J 
 
 
 ' 
 
 XT'
 
 ^SERMONS 
 
 FOR EVERY 
 
 SUNBAY ANB JFESHVAL, 
 OF THE YEAR. 
 
 ' e .'-*.' 
 
 Chiefly taken from the 
 
 SERMONS OF M. MASSILLON, 
 
 X . It 
 
 BISHOP OF CLERMONT. 
 
 EV THE 
 
 REV. EDWARD PEACH. 
 
 Blessed are they who hear the word of God and keep it. 
 
 Luke s.\. 28. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Printed and published by 
 
 KEATING, BROWN, AND KEATING, 
 
 No. 38, Duke-Street, Grosvenor-Square.

 
 P R E F A C E, 
 
 IT is a subject of general 
 astonishment and regret, that the 
 English. Catholic has never been 
 presented with a translation of the 
 sermons of Massillon. The applause, 
 with which, they were received on 
 the Continent, is the most unequi- 
 vocal proof of their merit. His 
 sermons for Lent were preached, 
 with unparalleled, and undiminished- 
 success, twenty years successively, 
 before a most voluptuous court, and 
 before one of the most polished, 
 audiences in. the Christian world ; 
 and the whole of his works have 
 been, from the time of their pub" 
 a
 
 IV PREFACE, 
 
 lication, the delight and admiration 
 of the pious, and well-informed in 
 every country, where the French 
 language is understood. This is the 
 greatest commendation which can 
 be adduced in favour of works of 
 . this kind. An inferior preacher 
 may sometimes attract attention ;, 
 and unless liis merit be eclipsed 
 by the lustre of superior genius.,, 
 may maintain his reputation for 
 a time, and receive the flattering ap- 
 plause of the public ; but the power of 
 extorting the admiration, and ri- 
 vetting the ^attention of the most 
 voluptuous, the most irreligious, the 
 most fickle votaries of pleasure, is a 
 talent possessed by few : and to 
 be held up as a model of spiritual 
 eloquence even after death by men 
 of all nations and religions, is an 
 
 J L_ 
 
 honour which is attended only by
 
 PREFACE. V 
 
 extraordinary merit. This distin- 
 guished pre-eminence was due to 
 the talents of Massillon : and is 
 acknowledged as candidly by the 
 learned Protestant as by the Ca- 
 tholic; 
 
 Never, perhaps, was there a 
 Christian orator who possessed a 
 more perfect knowledge of the heart 
 of man. He insinuates himself into 
 its inmost recesses : he explores, 
 and lays open every avenue to pub- 
 lic inspection. He delineates the 
 affections, describes the first causes 
 of the corruption, and displays the 
 inward workings of the mind with 
 such precision and clearness, that 
 every individual who has departed 
 from the ways of virtue beholds as 
 exact a delineation of his own fea- 
 tures,, as if the picture had been, 
 designed for him alone. 
 
 9
 
 Vf PREFACE. 
 
 In the arrangement of his dis-- 
 courses, Massillon attends more to 
 sentiments than words. He prepares 
 his audience for hearing plain truths 
 by a short exposition of his subject ; 
 and, instead of demonstrating the 
 existence of the law, or the neces- 
 sity of implicitly submitting to its 
 injunctions, of which he supposes 
 that his auditory is already con- 
 vinced, he immediately proceeds to 
 combat the pretexts which the vio- 
 lators of it al ledge in justification of 
 their conduct. 
 
 The style of Massillon is animated, 
 chaste, and flowing; and, although 
 dignified and worthy of the Chris- 
 tian pulpit, it is simple and adapted 
 to the understanding of the unlearn- 
 ed. The liveliness of his imagina- 
 tion adorns it sufficiently to please 
 the man of taste and education : but
 
 PREFACE. VH 
 
 he rejects those decorations which 
 contribute only to throw a veil over 
 the subject, and to raise it above the 
 comprehension of the multitude. 
 He studies not to please the ear, 
 but to convey instruction, and re- 
 form the profligate. He admits only 
 the grand, and sublime conceptions, 
 which elevate the soul, and fix her 
 attention immoveably on the im- 
 portant truths which he announces. 
 
 Every sentiment is illustrated, 
 and enforced by the authority of the 
 scriptures. The similitudes, and the 
 quotations, which he adduces from, 
 the inspired writings, are never 
 sought after; they always rise from 
 the subject, and immediately strike, 
 sometimes by the novelty, and al- 
 ways by the justness of their appli- 
 cation. 
 
 An orator of such distinguished
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 talents, eloquence, and piety, could 
 not fail of success. It is, therefore, 
 unnecessary to add, that his audience 
 was always absorpt in attention, 
 that the just were comforted, the 
 tepid undeceived, and the wicked 
 confounded. When he delivered his 
 sermon on the small number of the 
 Elect before the voluptuous court of 
 Versailles, the powers of his elo- 
 quence were manifested in the most 
 extraordinary manner. So com- 
 pletely was the imagination of this 
 august assembly affected by his aw- 
 ful description, that, at length, ter-. 
 rified, and struck as it were by an 
 electric shock, they started involun- 
 tarily from their seats, and by their 
 loud and continued murmurs of as- 
 tonishment, and applause, obliged 
 him for a time to desist : he however 
 was not abashed, but concluded hi&
 
 PREFACE. JX 
 
 discourse in the most pathetic and 
 masterly manner. A more wonder- 
 ful instance of the effects of oratory 
 perhaps is not recorded in history. 
 The fruits, which always accompa- 
 nied his ministry, were great and 
 lasting. After the conclusion of a 
 discourse, the people did not form 
 themselves into parties in order to 
 canvas its merits and defects ; but 
 they all retired in silence, with pen- 
 sive looks, down-cast eyes, and sor- 
 rowful countenances. They thought 
 not of the preacher/: their attention 
 was immoveably fixed on the great 
 and sublime truths which he had 
 delivered. These silent commenda- 
 tions, if they may be so called, are, 
 more expressive of the merits of an 
 orator, than any public applause. 
 The one only flatters the speaker, 
 and assures him that he has pleased 
 
 A
 
 X PREFACE. ; 
 
 his auditory ; the other imparts the 
 sweetest consolation to his mind, and 
 assures him that he has touched the 
 heart. " I have heard many distin- 
 guished orators," said Louis XIV. 
 addressing himself to Massillon when 
 he preached his first Advent before 
 the court in the year 1702, " I have 
 heard many distinguished orators in 
 my chapel, who gave me very great 
 satisfaction, but when I hear you I 
 am dissatisfied with myself." 
 
 Respecting the doctrine of Mas- 
 sillon, I fear that its severity will be 
 criticised and reproved ; for he 
 preaches the gospel in its genuine 
 purity. Like another Jeremiah or 
 Ezekiel, he announces the precepts 
 of the Lord without fear, and with- 
 out 'disguise. He knows that the 
 laws of the gospel are unalterable, 
 and that every letter must be ful-
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 filled in the last age of Christianity, 
 as well as in the first. He refuses to 
 make any composition with the te^ 
 pid and slothful degeneracy of the 
 times ; because, in the first place, 
 he had received no authority for that 
 purpose ; and secondly, because the 
 mercies of the Lord were extended 
 to their utmost limits, when he con- 
 sented to receive us into favour on 
 the fulfilment of the conditions con- 
 tained in the scriptures. He is, 
 therefore, severe : but he is severe 
 because the gospel is severe ; be- 
 cause his duty compelled him to be 
 severe. 
 
 In the exercise, however, of his 
 painful ministry, he is actuated by 
 that charity, which seeks not only 
 the instruction, but the salvation of 
 men. He displays the most rigid 
 precepts of the gospel in the most 
 A2
 
 Xll PREFACE. 
 
 engaging colours ; and he exposes 
 the follies and pleasures of the world 
 in a light that is calculated to create 
 aversion and disgust. He exhibits 
 the just man adorned with 'honour 
 and glory, and happy in the sweet 
 enjoyments of peace and innocence : 
 and he represents the sinner covered 
 with ignominy and shame, and tor- 
 tured by the never-dying worm of 
 anxiety and remorse. Under his 
 pencil the character of the just man 
 assumes a new and surprising lustre. 
 He comes forth in all his native 
 greatness, the champion of truth and 
 justice, the brave and valiant soldier 
 of Jesus ^Christ, patiently enduring 
 the fatigues of the Christian warfare, 
 encountering with joy every obstacle 
 that opposes him, and finally subdu- 
 ing all the enemies of his soul, the 
 world, the flesh, and the devil ; the
 
 PREPACK. Xlll 
 
 sinner, on the other hand, appears 
 in the attitude and dress of a listless, 
 ignominious coward, whose only de- 
 light is sensual pleasure, whose cou- 
 rage fails at the first call to arms, 
 and who shrinks with terror when 
 he is summoned to quit the bed o 
 ease, aiid encounter the enemies of 
 his salvation. The features of the 
 true Christian appear dignified and 
 composed, and the enjoyments which 
 give pleasure to his manly soul, ra- 
 tional, noble, and sublime : the fea- 
 tures of the sinner, on the other 
 hand, appear relaxed by luxury, and 
 distorted by solicitude and fear, and 
 the pleasures which excite the long-, 
 ings of his noble soul, disgusting, 
 momentary, unworthy of a rational 
 being, and productive of misery both 
 
 in this world and the next. In 
 
 this manner the pious and eloquent 
 A3
 
 XIV PREFACE. 
 
 I 
 
 Massillon softens and decks with 
 charms the severities of God's law. 
 lie compels the sinner to acknow- 
 ledge the folly and madness of a 
 sinful life : he instils into his mind a 
 hatred and disgust of the cruel ty- 
 rant under whose despotism he has 
 languished so long : he convinces 
 him that sin is the fatal enemy of his 
 peace, and he describes in such plain 
 and energetic terms his blindness, 
 ingratitude, and misery, that he is 
 in a manner constrained to throw 
 himself into the arms of piety, as the 
 only means of asserting the dignity 
 of his nature, and of acquiring peace 
 and happiness, as well here,, as here- 
 after. 
 
 The English Catholic has reason 
 to regret that the works of this ce- 
 lebrated ornament of the pulpit have 
 been so Long concealed from him, A
 
 PREFACE. XV 
 
 regular and well executed translation 
 would be a valuable addition to the 
 libraries of ,the learned, and would 
 undoubtedly meet with encourage- 
 ment from the enlightened and weal- 
 thy part of the community. But 
 the difficulties of the undertaking, 
 the price which would be required for 
 the purchase of so large a work, and 
 the certainty, that the immoderate 
 length of the sermons, and their be- 
 ing chiefly confined to Lent and Ad- 
 vent, would operate against the 
 constant perusal of them by the great 
 body of the people, are reasons 
 which, I apprehend, will deter every 
 man of abilities equal to the task 
 from attempting the execution. In 
 order, however, that some benefit 
 may be derived from this treasure of 
 sacred eloquence, the present work 
 is respectfully offered to the public.
 
 XVI PREFACE. 
 
 It cannot properly be called a transla- 
 tion. It is a collection of pious and 
 enlightened discourses, drawn up af- 
 ter the manner to which the English 
 
 C7 
 
 reader is habituated, and appropri- 
 ated to the Sundays and festivals of 
 the year. 
 
 The substance is taken from Mas- 
 sillon, with the exception sometimes 
 of part, and sometimes of the whole 
 of the introduction and conclusion ; 
 instructions to the lower classes are 
 sometimes substituted in the place 
 of the numerous addresses to the 
 court, which abound in the original ; 
 and occasional hints at the times, and 
 the situation of the country are in- 
 serted. Sometimes two discourses 
 are formed out of one; at other 
 times, one part only is taken ; and 
 at others the whole is abridged. At 
 all times, the division, the arrange-
 
 PREFACE. XV11 
 
 ment, the subject (with the excep- 
 tions mentioned above) are JVlas- 
 sillon's ; and his method is followed 
 as closely as the nature of the work 
 would permit. 
 
 It is not presumed that a circum- 
 scribed selection like this will be 
 worthy of the reputation of Mas- 
 sillon : it could not be expected : it 
 was not hoped for. The passionate 
 admirers of eloquence, who prefer 
 the nice arrangement of words and 
 sentences before objects of higher 
 importance, may perhaps be dissa- 
 tisfied with this imperfect display of 
 the abilities of this celebrated 
 preacher, and exclaim against the 
 hand that has dared to violate the 
 integrity of such wonderful speci- 
 mens of oratory : but the sincere 
 lovers of piety, it is presumed, will 
 applaud the attempt, notwithstand-
 
 XV111 PREFACE. 
 
 ing the imperfect manner in which it 
 is executed ; and above all, a pleas- 
 ing hope is entertained that it will 
 meet with the approbation of HIM, 
 whose honour and glory alone it was 
 intended to promote. 
 
 Birmingham, 
 July llth, 1807- 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page Line 
 108 13, for duties, read deities. 
 
 aai 5, for confound, read confounded. 
 
 2 39 7> f or ^e inmost, read and lays open the 
 
 inmost. 
 
 416 22, for condition, read constitution. 
 48 8 13, for same state, nod same sense. 

 
 INDEX TO VOL. I. , 
 
 Page 
 
 First Sunday of Advent. 
 
 On the last day .y\\*-f;*' ' -f$Y- 1 
 
 Second Sunday of Advent. 
 On the conditions and consolations 
 of true repentance . . >+.**'.< 30 
 
 Third Sunday of Advent. 
 On the delay of repentance . . 53 
 
 Fourth Sunday of Advent. 
 On the dispositions required for a 
 worthy communion ..... 77 
 
 Christmas Day. 
 On the birth of Christ . . . . 103 
 
 Sunday within the Octave. 
 Continuation of the same . . , 1 30 
 
 Circumcision. 
 On the divinity of Christ . . . 154 
 
 Sunday before the Epiphany. 
 
 Continuation of the same . . . 179 
 
 Epiphany. 
 
 On the festival 203 
 
 First Sunday after Epiphany. 
 On the honours paid to virtue by the 
 world 226
 
 XX INDEX. 
 
 Pag 
 
 Second Sunday after Epiphany. 
 On works of charity to our neighbour 248 
 
 Third Sunday after Epiphany. 
 On a future state .-- . . . 273 
 
 Fourth Sunday after Epiphany. 
 
 On submission to the will of God . 295 
 
 Fifth Sunday after Epiphany. 
 
 On salvation 31? 
 
 Sixth Sunday after Epiphany. 
 On the worship of God .... 339 
 
 Septuagesima. 
 On the small number of the elect . 365 
 
 Sejcagesima. 
 Continuation of the same . . . 
 
 Quinquagesima. 
 On the fast of Lent . ... . . 
 
 First Sunday of Lent. 
 On the abuses of fasting . . . 
 
 Second Sunday of Lent. 
 On the motives for a change of life 455 
 
 Third Sunday of Lent. 
 On inconstancy in the ways of virtue 477 
 
 Fourth Sunday of Lent. 
 On confession 499
 
 FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT. 
 
 ON THE LA,ST DAY. 
 
 And then shall they see the Son of Man 
 coming in a cloud in great power and 
 majesty. . . , ;., Luke xxi. 27. 
 
 L HITS, my beloved 
 friends, shall the revolutions and king- 
 doms of this world be brought to a con- 
 clusion for ever. Thus shall end all 
 the earthly pursuits, which either 
 amused us by their novelty, or seduced 
 us by their charms. Thus shall the Son 
 of Man come. Thus shall be ushered 
 in the great day of his manifestation, 
 the beginning of his reign, the com- 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 First Sunday 
 
 plete redemption of his mystical body. 
 Qn this day the consciences of all 
 mankind shall be exposed to view : a 
 day of calamity and despair to the 
 sinner, but of peace, of joy, and con- 
 solation to the just : on this day the 
 eternal lot of the whole world shall be 
 decided. 
 
 The constant recollection of these 
 great truths animated the primitive 
 Christian with patience in persecution, 
 and inspired him with joy in the midst 
 of sufferings and contempt. It was 
 this that supported the courage of the 
 martyrs, invigorated the constancy of 
 virgins, and rendered sweet and agree- 
 able to the recluse, the dreary paths of 
 solitude and retirement. You, your- 
 selves, perhaps, have sometimes felt 
 sentiments of compunction and fear, 
 on the recollection of what will come 
 to pass on this day. But these senti- 
 ments were probably of short continu- 
 ance : thoughts of a more cheerful na-
 
 of Advent. 3 
 
 ture soon effaced them from vour mind, 
 
 / * 
 
 and restored you to your former tran- 
 quillity. In the first ages it would 
 
 have been deemed a kind of apostacy, 
 not to have sighed after the day of the 
 Lord. The thought of this great event 
 was a subject of consolation to these 
 primitive disciples: the apostles were 
 obliged to moderate the eager desires 
 which they expressed for its arrival. 
 But in these times, the church is 
 obliged to call forth all the powers of 
 her ministry to impress the thought of 
 this awful day on the minds of the 
 faithful : not indeed with the expecta- 
 tion of exciting within them the same 
 holy and devout impatience for its 
 speedy accomplishment, that, I ap- 
 prehend, is no longer possible, but 
 with the hopes of awakening them to 
 repentance by the fear, and consterna- 
 tion, which all must feel, who are sen- 
 sible of the alternative that awaits them 
 in the winding up of these general ac- 
 B2
 
 4 First Sunday 
 
 counts, in the last trying scene of this 
 awful and terrible catastrophe. 
 
 It is not my intention in this dis- 
 course to display the external terrors of 
 this great day ; I mean, the confusion 
 of the elements, the irregular motions 
 of the heavenly bodies, the universal 
 destruction of nature, and men wither- 
 ing away through fear : I shall confine 
 myself to a subject more adapted to 
 make a salutary impression on the 
 minds of my audience; I shall confine 
 myself solely to the consideration of 
 what will naturally present itself to 
 view on the opening of the book of 
 -conscience, when the secrets of all 
 hearts shall be revealed. Man, during 
 his abode in this world, knows not his 
 own heart : self-love spreads a veil 
 over his imperfections, and conceals 
 the knowledge of his true state, both 
 from himself, and from others. But on 
 this day he shall be seen in his true 
 Jress, both by himself, and by all
 
 ofAdvenf. 5 
 
 mankind. The just man is disregard- 
 ed, and despised in this world : he is 
 subjected in a great measure to the 
 will of the sinner ; his life is esteemed 
 folly, and his end without honour. 
 He, likewise, shall be seen in his true 
 light on this day, and shall be honour- 
 ed before the whole world with that 
 honour to which his merits are entitled. 
 I purpose, therefore, to make a few 
 reflections on the confusion which shall 
 seize the wicked, when the secrets of 
 their hearts shall be revealed ; and on 
 the glory and honour which the just 
 shall receive, when their secret virtues 
 and good works shall be fully mani- 
 fested. 
 
 1. It would be presumption to pretend 
 to describe in appropriate terms the 
 qualities of the Great Judge, who shall 
 preside on that awful day. He is a 
 severe lawgiver, who is jealous of the 
 sanctity of his laws, and who will judge 
 you by them alone. All extenuations,, 
 B3
 
 6" First Sunday 
 
 all favourable interpretations, which 
 custom or worldly wisdom have intro- 
 duced, will then disappear ; and the 
 advantages, which the sinner appeared 
 to derive from them, will end in no- 
 thing. He is a judge, highly interest- 
 ed in the glory of his Father against 
 the sinner : and on this day he will 
 display his zeal for the honour of the> 
 Divinity, against those who have re- 
 fused him the i-ist tribute of adoration 
 
 \) 
 
 and glory.-^-He is a Saviour, whose 
 sacred wounds will severely rebuke you 
 for your ingratitude, and whose blood 
 will raise its voice, and loudly demand 
 your condemnation. He is the search- 
 er of hearts, to whose eyes every thing 
 is open, even the most secret thoughts. 
 L In a word, he is a God of power 
 and majesty, before whom the hea- 
 vens will pass away, the elements be 
 dissolved, all nature be in confusion, 
 and the sinner, the sinner alone, be 
 obliged to sustain the terrors of his
 
 of Advent. 7 
 
 presence, and the rigour of his exa- 
 mination. 
 
 The particulars of this dreadful ex- 
 amination will, in the first place, be the 
 same for all. Difference of times, of 
 ages, of countries, of birth, and dis- 
 position, will be totally disregarded ; 
 and as the gospel, by which you will be 
 judged, is the same for all ages and 
 states, and proposes the same rules of 
 conduct to the strong and to the weak, 
 to the king and to the subject, to the 
 hermit and to the worldling, to the 
 primitive Christian, and to the Chris- 
 tian of the present times, there will be 
 no distinction in the mode of examina- 
 tion. No attention will be paid to ex- 
 cuses of rank, of birth, of the dangers 
 of particular states, of the customs of 
 the world, of weakness of constitu- 
 tion : but the same rigorous account 
 of chastity, of humility, of modesty, of 
 constant vigilance, of forgiveness of 
 injuries,, of self-denial, of mortifies 
 B.4
 
 8 First Sunday 
 
 tion, and of all other Christian virtues, 
 will be exacted from the poor and 
 from the rich, from the prince and 
 from the people, from the learned and 
 from the unlearned, from the primitive 
 and from the modern Christian. 
 
 In the second place, this examina- 
 tion will be universal; that is, it will 
 include every circumstance of your 
 lives. It will include the failings of 
 your younger years, which probably 
 have long since escaped your memory ; 
 the indiscretions of youth, almost 
 every hour of which was perhaps stain- 
 ed with crimes ; the desires and cares 
 of more advanced years ; the peevish- 
 ness and insensibility of old age. 
 
 With what surprise will the sinner per- 
 ceive, when the different stages of his 
 life are thus passed in review before 
 his eyes, that through the whole course 
 he was profane, dissolute, sensual, 
 without piety, without repentance, 
 without good works: that he busied
 
 of Advent. 9> 
 
 himself in the different situations of 
 life, txxno other purpose than to heap 
 up to himself a more abundant trea- . 
 sure of wrath ; and that he lived as if 
 all were to have ended with his mortal 
 existence.. 
 
 In this life we never behold the true 
 state f our interior :. our attention is 
 engaged by the few serious sentiments 
 with which we are occasionally animat- 
 ed j and the judgment which we form 
 of ourselves, is generally influenced by 
 the last impressions which are made 
 on our minds. A few thoughts of sal- 
 vation, with which God inspires us 
 from time to time ; a day, for in- 
 stance, spent in the exercises of piety, 
 causes us to forget many years spent in 
 the pursuits of vice ; and the declara- 
 tion of our crimes at the tribunal of pe- 
 nance, blots them out from our remem- 
 brance, and restores us to as perfect a. 
 state of tranquillity, as if we had ne- 
 committed them. But before this*
 
 10 First Sunday 
 
 terrible Judge all will appear at once : 
 our whole lives will be exposed to view. 
 Every motion of our hearts, from the 
 first developement of reason, to the last 
 moment of existence, will be mani- 
 fested : the long catalogue of crimes, 
 committed during the different stages 
 of life, will be all collected together. : 
 not an action, not a desire, not a 
 thought, not a word will be omitted ; 
 for if the hairs of our head are number- 
 ed, with greater reason are our works. 
 Then shall you see the true state of 
 your souls : then shall their secret ave- 
 nues, their hidden affections, their de- 
 praved appetites, be all laid open to 
 your view : then shall their unlawful 
 desires, their hatreds and animosities, 
 their vitiated and impure intentions, 
 their criminal projects, which were 
 overlooked because they proved abor- 
 tive, and all their other vices, be dis- 
 played before you. " Oh ! says St. 
 Bernard, crimes without number will
 
 of Advent. 11 
 
 burst suddenly upon the sight, as from 
 a secret hiding place, of which we never 
 thought that we were guilty*'." We shall 
 see what we never sa\\ before we shall 
 see our true selves : the dark abyss shall 
 be enlightened, and the mystery of ini- 
 quity shall be revealed. After the scru- 
 tiny into our transgressions is conclud- 
 ed, the J udge will enter into a strict exa- 
 mination of the good works which we 
 ought to have performed, but have neg- 
 lected. Here again we shall find that our 
 whole lives have been chequered with 
 sins of omission, of which we never 
 thought of repenting : so many oppor- 
 tunities, for instance, which, through 
 complaisance, through fear of offending, 
 through interest, or other motive**, we 
 suffered to escape in silence, when our 
 character required that we should have 
 vindicated the honour of God, and the 
 cause of virtue and truth : so many 
 
 * Quasi ex improvise, et quasi ex insidiis. St. Ber.
 
 12 First Sunday 
 
 occasions of promoting the spiritual 
 welfare of our neighbour, by example, 
 or by other means, which we have neg- 
 lected : so many favourable moments 
 suffered to pass by through indolence 
 or indifference, when we might have 
 prevented crimes in others, by season- 
 able advice, and by prudent remon- 
 strances : so many days, so many mo- 
 ments wasted away in idleness and sloth> 
 which might have been devoted, with- 
 out any inconvenience, to the great 
 affair of salvation. Ah ! my beloved, 
 this was the time which we called the 
 most innocent period of our lives: a 
 time, which, if it was not distinguished 
 by any good works, we considered, at 
 
 least, as totally void of evil. 
 
 With what regret will the sinner look 
 back on that length of days, which he 
 sacrificed to trifles, and to a world that 
 is no more, when he reflects that, had 
 he consecrated them to the service of 
 God, he might have merited heaven!
 
 of Ad-cent. 13 
 
 With what confusion will he recollect 
 the humiliations, the labours and crosses 
 to which he submitted for the acquisi- 
 tion of wealth, of a fortune which he 
 could possess only for an instant, when 
 he is convinced that one half, or even a 
 quarter of the same trials, endured for 
 the sake of Christ, would have placed 
 him for ever at rest in the secure en- 
 joyment of God's eternal kingdom. 
 
 After this^ we shall be called to ac- 
 count for all the graces which we have 
 abused ; for the many calls and in- 
 spirations which we have neglected ; 
 for the little profit which, we reaped 
 from the powerful exhortations of his 
 ministers ; for the improper use which 
 we made of the sufferings and afflicti- 
 ons, with which he was pleased to visit 
 us for our improvement in good ; for 
 the many gifts of nature, which ought 
 to have been devoted to the works of 
 piety, but which we made the instru- 
 ments of vice. Ah ! if the unprofita-
 
 14 First Sunday 
 
 ble servant was cast into outer dark- 
 ness, because he merely buried his ta- 
 lent, what favour can they expect, who 
 have received so many talents, and 
 have employed them all against the 
 Giver? 
 
 The account, which we shall here be 
 called upon to give, will be terrible in 
 the extreme. Christ will demand back 
 again at our hands the price of his 
 blood. We are sometimes inclined to 
 complain, that God has not done 
 enough for us ; that we are naturally 
 inclined to evil ; that we cannot soften 
 down the harshness of our temper and 
 disposition ; and that he has not given 
 us sufficient grace to resist the occa- 
 sions of sin to which we are exposed. 
 But at the last day, we shall clearly 
 perceive that our whole lives were one- 
 continued abuse of his favours and 
 graces ; we shall see that, preferably 
 to so many nations, whom he has left 
 in the darkness of infidelity, we were
 
 of Advent. 15 
 
 favoured with the light of faith, fed- 
 with his holy word, and with his sacra- 
 ments, and supported by his inspira- 
 tions and graces. Yes : you will be 
 astonished ta see how much God has 
 done for you, and how little you have 
 done for him. Your complaints will 
 be turned into confusion, which will 
 terminate in despair. 
 
 Hitherto, beloved Christians, the 
 examination has extended to those sins 
 only which the sinner has committed in 
 his own person. But whn the Sove- 
 reign Judge shall proceed to investi- 
 gate the sins which we have occasioned 
 in others, what an immense multitude 
 will be again presented to our view ! 
 We shall behold, assembled before our 
 eyes, all the souls to whom we have 
 been the occasion of sin ; all the souls 
 who have, either by our words, by our 
 counsels, by our example, by our so- 
 licitations or impurities, been seduced 
 from the paths of virtue, and con-
 
 16 First Sunday 
 
 demned to hell; all the souls, whose 
 faith we have shaken, whose piety we 
 have weakened, whose libertinism we 
 have encouraged. Yes : our Lord Je- 
 sus, to whom they belonged, and who 
 had bought them with his precious, 
 blood, will require them at our hands 
 as his inheritance as a conquest which 
 we have wrested from him as his chil- 
 dren, whom we have murdered. Ah!, if 
 he marked Cain with the seal of repro- 
 bation on account of the blood of his 
 brother, with what seal will he mark 
 the sinner, when he shall demand an ac- 
 count of the souls whom he has mur- 
 dered, and consigned to the secDiid 
 and eternal death? 
 
 In this manner will our whole souls 
 be exposed to view. Happy, exclaims. 
 St. Augustin,. should we be, if we 
 could open our. eyes, and behold the 
 state of our interior as clearly now as. 
 we shall behold it then. Truly, my 
 beloved, could we divest, ourselves of.
 
 of Advent. 17 
 
 those prejudices which cloud our sight, 
 could we resist the influence of those 
 examples, which encourage us in our 
 delusions, could we be convinced of 
 the falsity of those maxims and cus- 
 toms, which tranquillize our consci- 
 ences, could we measure by the stand- 
 ard of truth, the faculties and talents 
 on which we pride ourselves, could we 
 renounce that self-love, which is the 
 root of all our evils, and could we, 
 by these means, see ourselves in the 
 same light in which we are seen of 
 God, what a holy hatred should we 
 conceive against ourselves ! How stre- 
 nuously should, we endeavour to hum- 
 ble ourselves in his sight, during the 
 days of our mortality, in hopes of 
 avoiding the humiliations of that day, 
 when the secrets of all hearts shall be 
 laid open, and made manifest to the 
 whole world. 
 
 2. Let us, however, turn to a more 
 cheerful, subject, and describe the ex-
 
 18 First Sunday 
 
 animation of that happy few, of which 
 we all hope to form a part. 
 
 Two things, which, according to 
 appearances, are inconsistent with the 
 idea of infinite justice, may be said to 
 be unavoidable in the indiscriminate 
 society of the good and the bad. 1st, 
 Concealed crimes escape the public 
 censure which they deserve, and hid- 
 den virtue is deprived of the applause 
 to which it is entitled. 2dly, The sin- 
 ner is oftentimes raised to honours and 
 dignities, whilst the just man is oblig- 
 ed to tread the lowly paths of subjec- 
 tion and submission to his orders. 
 
 On this great day, these evils shall be 
 fully rectified. The sinner shall be 
 separated' from the just, as soon as the 
 book of conscience is displayed : and 
 the honours and dignities of the hea- 
 venly Jerusalem shall be conferred on 
 the deserving the tpue and faithful 
 servants of the Lord. 
 
 What a consolation will it be to the
 
 of Advent* 19 
 
 just, to have the secrets of their hearts 
 finally revealed ! Their perfections 
 were concealed from men in this world. 
 They were known to God alone. They 
 were unknown even to themselves ; for 
 humility had concealed from their view 
 the beauty and innocence of their inte- 
 rior, and had displayed before their 
 eyes only the few blemishes and imper- 
 fections to which human nature is un- 
 avoidably exposed. But now the veil 
 shall be withdrawn, and their secret 
 storehouse of merits shall be thrown 
 open to the inspection of all.- With 
 what astonishment will the great assem- 
 bly of the sons of men behold the tri- 
 umps of these humble servants of God !" 
 their hitherto concealed victories over 
 the world, the flesh, and the devil ; 
 rtheir heroic sacrifices their fervent 
 desires their tender sighs their trans- 
 ports of love their faith their humi- 
 lity their magnanimity their great- 
 ness of soul their perfect contempt 

 
 20 First Sunday 
 
 for all those false and fleeting vanities 
 on which the hopes and desires of 
 worldlings are so constantly fixed. 
 Then shall it be seen, and acknowledg- 
 ed, that nothing created has so just a 
 title to praise and admiration, as the 
 just man. Then shall it be seen, and 
 acknowledged, that the interior ex- 
 ploits of the true Christian are more 
 sublime, and more noble, than all the 
 great transactions of the world ; that 
 they alone are worthy to be recorded in 
 the book of life ; and that, in the esti- 
 mation of God himself, they exhi- 
 bit a spectacle more worthy of the ad- 
 miration of angels and .men, than all 
 the boasted victories and conquests 
 which swell the pages of history ; the 
 memory of which has been immorta- 
 lized by pompous monuments, but 
 which shall now be considered as the 
 effects of a puerile and barbarous am- 
 bition, and as the horrid fruits of pride 
 and vain-glory. Thus, the evil com-
 
 of Ad-cent. 2 1 
 
 plained of in the first instance, will be 
 entirely removed, and things will be re- 
 stored to their proper order. The 
 guilty will not triumph ; will not escape 
 the general opprobrium, nor the pu- 
 nishment which is due to their crimes : 
 and an ample recompence will be given 
 to the just man, in the clear and dis- 
 tinct view of an astonished and admir- 
 ing universe. 
 
 The second evil is the prosperity of 
 the wicked, and the adversity of the 
 good. The just man, as if of no more 
 account than the dust from which he 
 sprang, and as if resembling the basest 
 metals passing in the progress to re- 
 finement through the fiery ordeal of tri- 
 bulation, is, not unfrequently, the low- 
 est and most contemptible of his spe- 
 cies; whilst the sinner is exalted like the 
 cedar of Lebanon, and surrounded by 
 all that riches and honours can pro- 
 cure. This, in appearance, is contrary 
 to order and justice. But, although
 
 22 First Sunday 
 
 by this means the just are purified, and 
 the wicked hardened ; although this 
 confused mixture of good and evil en- 
 ters into the designs of Providence, 
 and the just and unjust are hastened to 
 their destination by ways which are in- 
 scrutable to man : nevertheless, it is 
 necessary that the Son of God should 
 rectify all things ; that he should pub- 
 licly manifest the distinction which ex- 
 ists between good and evil, between the 
 man who serves the Lord, and the man 
 who denies him. This will be effected 
 on the great day of the Lord : order 
 will be perfectly established : the good 
 will be separated from the wicked : 
 these will be placed on the right hand, 
 the others on the left. 
 
 Then shall the Son of Man, from his 
 exalted throne in the clouds of hea- 
 ven, cast his eyes over the immense 
 multitude of peoples and nations as- 
 sembled before him. Then shall he 
 collect his chosen people from the four
 
 of Advent. 23 
 
 corners of the earth : then shall he unite 
 together the true children of Israel: 
 then shall he introduce to notice, and 
 celebrate the exploits of heroes of reli- 
 gion, hitherto unknown to the world. 
 The different epochs, or stated periods 
 of time, he will distinguish, not by the 
 victories of warriors, not by the rise or 
 fall of empires, but by the particular 
 triumphs of his grace, by the victories 
 of the just man over his passions, by 
 the establishment of his reign in the 
 heart, by the invincible constancy of a 
 persecuted disciple. He will entirely 
 change the order of things : he will 
 create a new heaven and a new earth : 
 he will reduce this infinite variety of 
 peoples, of nations, of titles, dignities, 
 and states, to two different orders or 
 descriptions of men to the elect of 
 God, and to the reprobate. The one 
 shall be placed on his right hand, the 
 other on the left. 
 
 What a terrible separation, my be-
 
 24- First Sunday 
 
 loved brethren, will then take place ! 
 Father will be separated from son, bro- 
 ther from brother, friend from friend : 
 one shall be taken, the other left. 
 Death, which separates us for a time 
 from the dearest objects of our affec- 
 tions, has thus much, at least, of con- 
 solation in it, that hereafter, perhaps, 
 we may be united again. But here, 
 the separation which divides us will be 
 'eternal : as far as the east is from the 
 west, or heaven from hell, so far will 
 the just be removed from the reprobate 
 for ever. 
 
 All things being thus finally arrang- 
 ed ; all mankind thus divided ; each 
 one immoveable in the place allotted to 
 him ; confusion, dismay, terror, and 
 despair, shall be visible on the counte- 
 nance of the one, and joy, serenity, 
 and confidence, shall enliven the other: 
 the eyes of the just shall be fixed on 
 the Son of Man, their great and good 
 deliverer ; the eyes of the wicked shall
 
 of Ad-cent. 25 
 
 be cast on the earth, penetrating into 
 that dreadful abyss, which in a short 
 moment is to open, and swallow them 
 up for eternity. Then will the King 
 of Glory, says the gospel, place him- 
 self between the two assemblies, and 
 turning to the just on the right, with 
 looks of clemency and love looks, 
 which alone would repay them for all 
 their past afflictions, he will say to 
 them : Come, ye blessed of my Father, 
 possess the kingdom prepared for you 
 from the foundation of the world, 
 Matt. xxv. 34. Whilst you lived on 
 earth, you were treated by worldly 
 men as fools, as the outcast of society, 
 and as useless members of the state : 
 but they shall this day be convinced 
 that the world subsisted only for you ; 
 that the world was made only for you ; 
 and that, as soon as your number was 
 -complete, the final dissolution took 
 place. Come, then, my beloved, quit 
 this earth, where you were always 
 VOL, i. C
 
 26* First Sunday 
 
 strangers and pilgrims ; follow me in 
 the paths of glory and happiness, as you 
 followed me in those of humiliations 
 and sufferings. Your afflictions were 
 momentary, but the reward which 
 awaits you shall be eternal. Come, ye 
 blessed of my Father, possess the king- 
 dom prepared for you from the founda- 
 tion of the world. 
 
 Then turning to the wicked on the 
 left, with eyes flashing with indigna- 
 tion, and with a countenance replete 
 with terrors, with a voice, says the pro- 
 phet, that shall open the bowels of the 
 abyss, (Num. xvi.) he will say, not as 
 on the cross, Father, for give them, for 
 they know not what they do, (Luke xxiii. 
 34.) but, Depart from me, ye cursed, 
 into everlasting jire, which was prepared 
 for the devil and his angels, Matt. xxv. 
 41. You were once the chosen people 
 of my Father, but you are now the ac- 
 cursed : the enjoyments which you 
 preferred before me were false, and mo-
 
 of Advent. 27 
 
 mcntary, but your punishment shall be 
 eternal. Depart from me you cursed 
 into everlasting Jire. Then the just, 
 triumphantly ascending into the clouds 
 with the Son of Man, will sing to their 
 deliverer : " Thou art just, O Lord, 
 and rich in mercy : thou hast crowned 
 all thy blessings by the recompence 
 which thou HOW bestowest on our me- 
 rits." Then the wicked will curse the 
 Author of their existence, and the day 
 on which they were born ; or rather, 
 they will turn their rage against them- 
 selves, as the sole authors of their dam- 
 nation. Then shall the abyss be open- 
 ed, and the heavens shall stoop down ; 
 the reprobate shall go into eternal 
 torments, and the elect into life ever- 
 lasting. Afterwards, there will be no 
 further communication between them. 
 The sentence which divides them is ir- 
 revocable : and they separate for ever. 
 
 After such a description, calculated 
 to make an impression on the most har- 
 C2
 
 28 First Sunday 
 
 dened, I cannot better conclude than 
 by addressing to you the words, which 
 Moses addressed to the Israelites, after 
 he had represented to them the dread- 
 ful threats and the consoling promises 
 which were written in. the book of the 
 law : Children of Israel, says he, / this 
 day propose to your choice a blessing or 
 a curse ; a blessing, if you fulfil the 
 precepts of the Lord your God : a curse, 
 if you forsake his ways, which I have 
 pointed out to you, in order to follow 
 
 strange gods, Deut. "xi. 26. The 
 
 same do I address to you : it is in your 
 power to choose which of the two you 
 will embrace : you have heard the pro- 
 mises, and the threats : the blessing, 
 and the curse. You must take part ei- 
 ther with the devil and his angels, or 
 with Christ and his elect : there is no 
 alternative here. I have shewn you the 
 way which leads to heaven, and that 
 which leads to hell. In which of the 
 two will you walk? What would be
 
 of Advent. 29 
 
 your eternal lot, if this instant you were 
 summoned to appear before your Judge? 
 Be on your guard : man dies as he 
 lives. Dread, therefore, lest death 
 should surprise you in the state of sin. 
 Forsake the ways of the wicked, and 
 live the life of the just, if you hope to 
 be placed with them on the right, and 
 to accompany them into the regions of 
 a blissful immortality. 
 
 C3
 
 30 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT. 
 
 t)N THE CONDITIONS AND CONSOLA- 
 TIONS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 
 
 This is he, of whom it is written : Be- 
 hold I send my angel before thy face, 
 who shall prepare thy way before 
 thee ...... Matt. xi. 10. 
 
 DURING the sa- 
 cred time of Advent, the Church in- 
 vites us, in the most pressing terms, to 
 prepare our souls for the approaching 
 solemnity of the birth of Christ. This 
 is the time, she exclaims, to arise from 
 sleep, because our salvation is nearer 
 than when we first believed : this is the 
 time to do penance, for the kingdom of 
 heaven is at hand. She assumes the 
 office of the precursor : she goes before
 
 Second Sunday, 8$c. 31 
 
 the face of the Lord, and by the voice 
 of her ministers solicits us to open our 
 hearts to receive him at this holy time, 
 in order that his arms may be opened 
 hereafter to receive us on the great day 
 of final retribution. 
 
 But, beloved Christians, are we pre- 
 pared to accept these gracious invita- 
 tions ? Are we eager to rush forward 
 to the banks of the Jordan, confessing 
 our sins ? Ah ! we all listen to the 
 heavenly monitor, but we obey him not. 
 We are more inclined to flatter our- 
 selves with the supposition that we are 
 as perfect as the law of God requires us 
 to be ; that we fulfil all the divine com- 
 mandments with sufficient exactitude ; 
 that we comply with our duties, and 
 that we perform every good work 
 which our state of life obliges us to per- 
 form : we are more inclined, I say, to 
 form this favourable opinion of our- 
 selves, than to suppose that the words 
 of the Baptist are addressed to us : Ye 
 C4
 
 32 Second Sunday 
 
 vipers, who hath taught you to flee from 
 the wrath to come ? Bring forth worthy 
 fruits of penance, Matt. iii. 7. 
 
 But, iny beloved, in vain do we en- 
 deavour to deceive ourselves. Truth 
 itself, and the testimony of our own 
 conscience declare that we are sinners, 
 and consequently, that it is our boun- 
 den and indispensable duty to reform, 
 and to do penance. None have escap- 
 ed the general prevarication ; and 
 therefore none are exempt from the ge- 
 neral precept : Do penance, for the 
 kingdom of God is at hand, Matt. iii. 2. 
 
 In calling your attention to this 
 subject, I do not mean to enter into 
 any argument on the necessity of re- 
 pentance that is a settled point that 
 is undeniable. My object is to lay 
 before you the conditions which must 
 accompany your repentance, in order 
 that it may find acceptance with God ; 
 and in conclusion, to add a few reflec- 
 tions on the interior delights which
 
 of Advent. 33 
 
 smoothen the rugged paths of self- 
 denial and reformation. 
 
 1. Sin is an alienation of the affec- 
 tions from God, and an attempt to ex- 
 tract happiness- from the enjoyment of 
 created things, in apposition to the 
 will of the Creator. The first duty, 
 therefore, of repentance, is to renounce 
 these vain objects of attachment, and 
 to replace our affections on Him, who 
 alone is worthy of them. To this we 
 are urged, not only by the voice of re- 
 ligion, but by the united voice of rea- 
 son and experience, Reason informs 
 us, that that object alone is worthy of 
 our love, which can effectually contri- 
 bute to our happiness ; which can sa- 
 tisfy the cravings of our souls ; which 
 can administer to OUP wants,, alleviate 
 our afflictions, and procure us all good. 
 Now, God alone being the author of 
 these inestimable blessings, reason dic- 
 tates the necessity of fixing our affec- 
 tions solely on him. Experience ha& 
 C5
 
 34- Second Sunday 
 
 already convinced us of this truth. 
 During the time that our affections 
 were fixed on earthly things, we always 
 felt a deficiency in our breasts : AVC 
 perceived that creatures were caprici-, 
 ous, false, and inconstant : we saw that 
 our hearts were deluded, and that hap- 
 piness was not to be found in them. 
 
 With the authority, therefore, of re- 
 ligion, reason, and experience on my 
 side, I will boldly proclaim the neces- 
 sity of fixing your affections, in the 
 very commencement of your repent- 
 ance, solely on the great Author of 
 your existence, and on the Giver of 
 every good gift : I will confidently 
 assert that you will not persevere in 
 your great work, unless you often open 
 your hearts to the same seraphic flames 
 of love which animated the saints, and 
 endeavour to walk in their footsteps. 
 They are your models, and after them 
 must you form the plan of your new 
 life.
 
 of Advent. 35. 
 
 But methinks I hear you say, that if 
 such perfect love be a necessary ingre- 
 dient of repentance, it is in vain for you 
 to attempt it; and that to require that 
 you walk in the footsteps of the saints, 
 is to require impossibilities. But, my 
 beloved friends, why are you alarmed ? 
 Who, and what were the saints ? Do 
 you suppose that they were beings of a 
 superior order ? or that they possessed 
 qualities which were never implanted 
 in your nature ? Far from it. They 
 were men in pursuit of the same happi- 
 ness as yourselves. They differed in 
 nothing from you, except in fix- 
 ing on the proper object for their 
 pursuit. And will you say that you 
 are not susceptible of the same sublime 
 impressions of holy love as they were ? 
 You can adhere to creatures with the 
 most ardent warmth of passion ; and 
 are you incapable of adhering to the 
 Great Author of All with the same de- 
 gree of warmth and animation ? If this 
 C6
 
 36 
 
 be true, what are we to infer ? That you 
 were made for vanity and folly : that 
 your hearts are so mean and groveling, 
 that they cannot rise to the love or 
 fruition of any thing beyond the en- 
 joyment of sensual pleasures ! Ah ! for 
 God's sake, let not any thing like this 
 ever be said of you ! O, do not, do not 
 you subscribe to this assertion ! For, if 
 you are not formed for divine love, 
 what is the object of your existence, 
 and for whom were you made ? Will 
 you allow, that you were created for no 
 other purpose, than to be the victims of 
 melancholy and delusion ? Will you 
 allow, that the Great Author of your 
 existence has drawn you out of nothing, 
 merely to make you miserable ? and 
 that your souls are capacitated to enjoy 
 no other happiness than that which 
 eludes your search ; than that which, 
 in reality, has no existence ? 
 
 O man ! be no longer the dupe of 
 your own fears, The fervour of the
 
 of Advent. 37 
 
 saints is not difficult of imitation. Open 
 your eyes : look into your interior ; 
 and you will discover that the disposi- 
 tions, which you consider as obstacles 
 to divine love, are the very dispositions 
 which will promote its reign in your 
 souls. The more ardent you now are 
 in the pursuit of worldly vanities, the 
 more ardent will you be hereafter in 
 the service of God, and in the pursuit 
 of eternal pleasures. The more your 
 heart is susceptible of the love of crea- 
 tures, the easier access will it open to 
 the inspirations of divine grace. The 
 more haughty, proud, and ambitious 
 you are by nature, the more indepen- 
 dently will you serve the Lord, with- 
 out fear, without human respect, with- 
 out adulation. The more pliant, vola- 
 tile, and inconstant your disposition, 
 the more easy will it be for you to with- 
 draw your misplaced affections, and 
 fix them on God. In a word, your 
 passions themselves may be made, in a
 
 58 Second Sunday 
 
 great measure, the ground-work of 
 your repentance. You may make that, 
 which has hitherto been the cause of 
 your sins, the instrument of your sal- 
 vation ; and you Avill thus experience^ 
 that the heart, which is susceptible of 
 impressions from creatures, is more sus- 
 ceptible of the impressions of divine 
 grace. 
 
 2. The first condition, therefore, of 
 true repentance, which is the love of 
 God, is necessary, and within your 
 power. The second, which is equally 
 necessary, and which consists in works 
 of self -denial and mortification, may be 
 easily practised by the influence which 
 the former will necessarily have over 
 every part of your future conduct. 
 
 During the time that you were en- 
 gaged in sin, you lived in the constant 
 abuse of the gifts of God. Repara- 
 tion, consequently, must be made to di- 
 vine justice by the mortification of the 
 senses, and by the voluntary renuncia-
 
 of Advent* 3& 
 
 tion of those enjoyments, of which you 
 have made an improper use. 
 
 Strictly speaking, the sinner may be 
 said to have lost his right to the bles- 
 sings of God : he has forfeited his inhe- 
 ritance : he has incurred the maledic- 
 tion of his Creator : he is an anathema 
 in the midst of all the creatures, which 
 God had intended for his use. There 
 are, therefore, ordinances for the un- 
 faithful, which are not extended to 
 mankind in general. They are except- 
 ed from the common right : and they 
 are to judge of the extent of their li- 
 berties, not from general maxims, but 
 from the personal exceptions which 
 they have incurred. 
 
 On this principle, I will answer a 
 question which is frequently brought 
 forward by false penitents : " Is it un- 
 lawful," they ask, " to indulge the 
 fancies of dress, on purpose to engage 
 the attention of others ? Is this or that 
 public amusement, this or that inno
 
 40 Second Sunday 
 
 cent enjoyment, forbidden by the gos- 
 pel ?"' I will reply by another question : 
 Have you never criminally abused these 
 liberties ? Have you never made them, 
 the occasions of sin ? Ah ! by means 
 of these very amusements, you have 
 probably heaped up to yourselves trea- 
 sures of wrath : and now, that you are 
 deliberating on the means of effecting 
 a change of life, you stand up in de- 
 fence of vanity and folly : now that 
 you are entering on a course of atone- 
 ment to the divine justice for the num- 
 berless offences of your past lives; 
 when sackcloth and ashes ought to be 
 your only ornament, you maintain the 
 lawfulness of pomp and splendor, and 
 dissipation, from which, whether they 
 are allowable to others or not, you cer- 
 tainly ought, ki every view of the case, 
 on principles ef conscience and right 
 reason, carefully to restrict yourselves. 
 Beloved Christians, the sorrows of 
 repentance hurry away the soul
 
 of Advent. 41 
 
 with precipitation from every thing 
 which has at any time been to her an 
 occasion of sin. She considers not 
 whether this, or that, be innocent in 
 itself, but whether it has led, or is cal- 
 culated to lead her into the deep abyss 
 of sin. She entertains as great an ab- 
 horrence for the promoters of her 
 crimes, as for the crimes themselves. 
 She avoids the sparks which enkindled 
 her passions, with as much care as she 
 resists the passions themselves. She 
 trembles at the idea of her former ir- 
 regularities. She abhors the sight of 
 the places, persons, and things which 
 gave occasion to them : she flies from 
 them with haste, lest they should again 
 make an impression on her heart. 
 Instead, therefore, of maintaining the 
 lawfulness of again corresponding with 
 the objects and occasions of your for- 
 mer sins, you must hate, you must fly 
 from them as from a pestilence. You 
 must shun the rocks, on which you.
 
 42 Second Sunday 
 
 have already suffered shipwreck. Ne- 
 cessity compels you : for, be assured, 
 if you continue to love the danger, you 
 will infallibly perish in it. 
 
 Moreover, in the same manner as 
 concupiscence embraces every oppor- 
 tunity of indulging its unlawful pro- 
 pensities, so, likewise, the true penitent 
 endeavours on every occasion to satisfy 
 the divine justice by private mortifica- 
 tions. He sacrifices on the altar of 
 penance every thing that flatters the 
 senses, every thing that cherishes the 
 passions, and every superfluity that 
 tends only to strengthen the empire of 
 self-love. Like a two-edged sword, 
 he reaches unto the division of the soul 
 and the spirit : he makes separations 
 the most painful to flesh and blood ; 
 he cuts even to the quick, and re- 
 trenches every thing that favours the 
 inclinations of corrupt nature : he is in- 
 genious in his modes of penance : in 
 every occurrence of life, he discovers.
 
 of Advent. 43 
 
 means of contributing to the expiation 
 of his former sins : even the few amuse- 
 ments, which he allows himself, he 
 changes into acts of virtue, by the pi- 
 ous circumspection with which he in- 
 dulges them. 
 
 This, beloved Christians, is the hea- 
 venly secret of repentance. Now let 
 
 me exhort you to compare your sys- 
 tem of a penitent life, with the model 
 which I have displayed. Do not de- 
 ceive yourselves. It is in vain that 
 you have put off the defiled garments 
 of grosser sensualities, unless you re- 
 nounce likewise the love of pomp and 
 vanity, unless you have resolution to 
 mortify your will, and repress the insa- 
 tiable desires of self-love. Ah ! sel- 
 dom is there a true penitent ! Imperfect 
 and superficial conversions are fre- 
 quent : but there is too much reason 
 to fear that the greater number of those, 
 who appear reformed in the eyes of the 
 world, will carry with them to the
 
 44 Second Sunday 
 
 great tribunal of God hearts as much 
 attached to vanity, an.d as corrupt in 
 their affections, as they were in the 
 midst of their irregularities. 
 
 In order to settle your reform of life 
 on the most solid basis, you must ap- 
 ply diligently to the practice of the op- 
 posite virtues. If you have been ad- 
 dicted to gaming, vanity, or love of 
 dress, your dissipated state of mind 
 must be reformed by prayer, retire- 
 ment, and works of mercy. If you 
 have strengthened the empire of flesh 
 and blood, by abandoning yourselves 
 to the more disgraceful passions, the 
 flames of impurity and intemperance 
 must be extinguished by degrees by 
 fasts, austerities, watchings, and the 
 heavy yoke of self-denial and pe- 
 nance. This is not a matter of coun- 
 sel ; it is of precept. Your happiness 
 depends upon it, your perseverance 
 depends upon it : for your old attach- 
 ments will incessantly shoot forth, and
 
 of Advent. 45 
 
 spring up again, if they be not entirely 
 eradicated from your breasts. Your 
 passions will become more violent, and 
 will redouble their attacks, unless they 
 are completely subdued* You will be 
 in momentary danger of another ship- 
 wreck. You will enjoy neither peace 
 nor consolation in your new life. 
 Your weakness and pusillanimity will 
 increase. The pleasures which you 
 3iave renounced, will appear before 
 your eyes in the most engaging colours, 
 and the charms of piety and holiness 
 will appear faded, and uninviting. 
 Thus will you be a constant tempta- 
 tion to yourselves ; and, as it is not 
 easy to maintain a contest against your- 
 selves for any length of time, you will 
 soon turn away with disgust from a life 
 which costs you so dear. It is true, 
 therefore, my dear friends, and let me 
 entreat you to reflect seriously on what 
 I am about to say : it is true, that in 
 proportion as you increase and multi-
 
 46 Second Sunday 
 
 ply your sacrifices on the first com- 
 mencement of a reform of life, you di- 
 minish the difficulties ; and that, in pro- 
 portion as you favouryour former disor- 
 derly inclinations, instead of mitigating 
 the rigours of repentance, you make 
 them more disgusting and intolerable. 
 
 A change of life, therefore, consists 
 not merely in a reformation of your past 
 disorders, but in a reformation accom- 
 panied with suitable acts of atonement 
 to the divine justice. This is indis- 
 pensable ; and, notwithstanding the 
 contrary opinion which you have pro- 
 bably formed on this head, it is not at- 
 tended with much difficulty. The 
 graces and consolations of heaven 
 sweeten the bitter pains of mortification 
 and penance, and encourage the soul 
 to proceed with alacrity and rapidity in 
 the important task, until she shall have 
 brought it to a happy termination. I 
 will conclude with a few words on this 
 subject.
 
 of Advent. 47 
 
 3. Come to me, says our Saviour, 
 all you who are wearied in the ways of 
 iniquity : come, and taste the sweets 
 of my yoke, and you shall find that 
 peace and rest, which you have sought 
 in vain under the yoke of your pas- 
 sions : you shall find rest for your 
 souls. 
 
 Yes, beloved Christians ; instead of 
 that inconstancy, and ingratitude, 
 which you have experienced from crea- 
 tures ; instead of that emptiness, and 
 puerility, which accompanied your 
 worldly pleasures; instead of that 
 anxiety, solicitude, and remorse, which 
 were the attendants of dissipation, your 
 souls will overflow with the most en- 
 rapturing delights of innocence and 
 peace. With what interior joy will 
 you exclaim : " Hitherto I have lived 
 only for vanity. The days, the years, 
 the afflictions that are past, are now 
 as nothing : they are lost : they are 
 obliterated even from the memory of
 
 48 Second Sunday 
 
 that world, for which alone I have liv- 
 ed. My civilities, my condescensions, 
 my services, have been repaid only 
 with ingratitude. But now, every 
 thing that I shall either do or suffer 
 for Jesus, will be placed to account : 
 every act of self-denial, every trivial 
 sacrifice, every sigh, every tear will be 
 registered in indelible characters in the 
 book of life ; they will be all recorded 
 in the memory of the great Master 
 whom I serve ; they will be all, not- 
 withstanding the deficiencies arising 
 from the weakness of human nature, 
 they will be all purified by the blood 
 of my Redeemer : my merits, indeed, 
 will be nothing, independently of his 
 grace ; but he will crown his own gifts 
 with an infinite reward. I live now 
 for eternity alone : I no longer labour 
 in vain : my life is no more a dream." 
 
 Could you, my beloved brethren, 
 
 taste the ineffable consolations which 
 this soliloquy imparts to the penitent
 
 of Advent. 49 
 
 saint, you would be enraptured ; you 
 would exclaim in concert with all the 
 holy servants of God: "Piety is a 
 treasure indeed ! The man who is tru- 
 ly converted to the Lord, receives an 
 hundred-fold even in this life, for the 
 sacrifices which he immolates on the 
 altar of repentance.'* 
 
 I will not, however, pretend to assert, 
 that the true penitent is entirely free 
 from uneasiness and solicitude : expe- 
 rience proves the contrary ; and there- 
 fore I acknowledge, that the recollec- 
 tion of his past disloyalties will, some- 
 times, throw a gloom over his mind. 
 But, notwithstanding his incertitude 
 whether he be worthy of love, or ha- 
 tred, the secret peace which reigns 
 within, gives testimony that Jesus is 
 there ; and the ineffable interior de- 
 lights which he enjoys, convince him 
 that God has received him again into 
 favour. - I acknowledge, likewise, 
 that the lively ideas of the infinite jus- 
 
 VOL. i. D
 
 50 Second Sunday 
 
 tice of God, and of the multitude of 
 his sins, will sometimes excite appre- 
 hension and alarm. But these are tri- 
 als, sent only for the exercise of his 
 humility, and are, consequently, of 
 short duration : he quickly hears the 
 voice of Jesus in his soul : "Oh ' thou 
 of little faith, why dost thou doubt ? 
 Have I not given thee sufficient proofs 
 of my protection and benevolence ? Re- 
 cal to mind all that I have done, in 
 order to snatch thee from the abyss of 
 perdition. I seek not with such ear- 
 nestness the sheep that is not dear to 
 me. I never should carry it on my 
 shoulders with such patience, if I in- 
 tended that it should perish before my 
 eyes. Mistrust not my goodness. Thy 
 only motives for alarm, are thy own 
 tepidity and inconstancy." 
 
 This, beloved Christians, is but a 
 faint description of the pleasures which 
 enliven the paths of virtue. Why 
 then will you hesitate ? Are you re-
 
 of Advent. 51 
 
 strained by the fear of difficulties ? 
 Ungenerous souls ! You have endured 
 the anguish and remorse of sin without 
 complaint for many years ; and is it 
 possible that you should dread the holy 
 sorrows of repentance ? You have 
 borne the yoke of the world a yoke 
 which admitted neither of ease, nor of 
 comfort, nor of real pleasure ; and 
 will you dare to call the yoke of the 
 Lord insupportable ? Be no longer the 
 dupes of imaginary fears. The anxie- 
 ties, and the pains to which you hatfe 
 been accustomed, have prepared you 
 for the sufferings of penance. This 
 apprenticeship will make every thing 
 easy, particularly as your future la- 
 bours will be accompanied and sweet- 
 ened by the graces and consolations of 
 heaven. 
 
 Good God ! having walked so long 
 
 in the rugged paths of sin, and under 
 
 the hard tyranny of the world and my 
 
 passions, is it possible that I should be 
 
 D2
 
 52 Second Sunday, fyc. 
 
 unable to walk with thee, under the 
 wings of thy mercy, and supported by 
 thy powerful arm ? Art thou then a 
 hard master ? No : the worid knows 
 thee not, and therefore it supposes that 
 thou impartest no consolations to thy 
 faithful servants. But we, O Lord, we 
 know thee. We know that thou art 
 the best of Masters, the most tender of 
 Fathers, the most faithful of Friends, 
 the most bountiful of Benefactors. We 
 know that thou wilt pour thy choicest 
 gifts on thy servants during their mor- 
 tal pilgrimage, and give them a fore- 
 taste of that eternal happiness which 
 thou hast prepared for them in heaven.
 
 THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT. 
 
 ON DELAY OF REPENTANCE. 
 
 / am the voice of one crying in the 
 wilderness, make strait the way of the 
 Lord. John i. 23. 
 
 J. HE paternal solici- 
 tude of our Jesus, ever attentive to 
 the interests of his beloved creatures, 
 and desirous of ensuring to himself the 
 free, and sole possession of our hearts, 
 continues to invite us, by the mouth 
 of the Baptist, during this time of Ad- 
 vent, to make strait his ways, and to re- 
 move the impediments which have hi- 
 therto obstructed the channel of, his 
 graces, and prevented our complete, 
 
 D3
 
 54 Third Sunday 
 
 and permanent union with him. These 
 impediments are the crimes which we 
 commit, the passions by which 
 our unthinking hearts are led astray, 
 and the occasions of sin, which have 
 so often proved fatal to our innocence. 
 The means by which alone these im- 
 pediments can be removed, are a 
 change of heart, and a complete re- 
 form of life, accompanied with a true 
 and sincere repentance. 
 
 To this gracious invitation he adds 
 threats. He commands his ministers 
 to display before you the miseries which 
 await impenitence, and the dangers of 
 delay : and to declare openly that, un- 
 less you do penance, you shall inevitably 
 perish. 
 
 This is not all : he speaks to you in 
 the interior of your souls ; " is it not 
 time," he says, " to arise from that 
 abyss of wickedness, in which you have 
 been so long immersed. Why will you 
 not turn your thoughts to your eternal
 
 of Advent. 3,5 
 
 welfare, and consecrate the short re- 
 maining period of your lives to my 
 service, after having devoted so many 
 years to vanity and folly ?" 
 
 To these importunities of your Crea- 
 tor, what reply do you make ? Do you 
 pour forth your soul in acts of thanks- 
 giving for this his paternal, his gratuit- 
 ous solicitude ? Are you resolved to 
 prostrate yourselves at his feet, and 
 declare aloud, that you are ready to 
 embrace the means which he has pro- 
 vided for your deliverance ? Alas ! this, 
 I fear, is far from being the state of 
 your mind. You are solicitous only 
 to elude his importunities, and to re- 
 fuse your consent : you say either that 
 you have not sufficient grace to under- 
 take so great a work ; or that you are 
 too much engaged in your pursuits to 
 think of a reform of life at the present 
 time. These, in general, are your pre- 
 texts.--^ these, therefore, I will call 
 your attention ; and I will prove, in the 
 D4
 
 56 Third Sunday 
 
 i 
 
 plainest terms, that they are ground- 
 less, that they are injurious to God, 
 and that they are prejudicial in the 
 highest degree to your eternal welfare. 
 
 i. It is not uncommon for those sin- 
 ners, who are determined not to for- 
 sake their evils ways, to attempt to 
 justify themselves by alleclging the in- 
 competency of man to effect the great 
 work of an entire change of life, by his 
 own powers alone. "A particular 
 grace from God," they say, " is neces- 
 sary, and indispensably necessary for 
 the success of such an arduous under- 
 taking : happy they who have been fa- 
 voured with this grace ! As for them, 
 they have long waited with anxious 
 expectations of receiving it : but, as 
 yet, it has not pleased God to dispense 
 to them so inestimable a blessing." 
 
 Plausible as this pretext may appear, 
 a slight examination will prove that it is 
 unjust on the part of the sinner, injuri- 
 ous to God, and unwarrantable in itself.
 
 of Advent. 5? 
 
 If in this assembly, there is any in- 
 dividual whose impenitence is owing to 
 this cause, let me beg the favour of his 
 attention for a few moments. Chris- 
 tian brother, I allow in the first in- 
 stance that a true and sincere reforma- 
 tion of life cannot be effected without 
 the grace of God, and if it be true that 
 you have never been blessed with that 
 grace, your impenitence has some ex- 
 cuse. But this is what you cannot assert 
 with justice. If you take a review of 
 your past life, you will be convinced 
 that God favoured you in every stage 
 of it with the most singular graces. He 
 blest you with a happy disposition, 
 and a good heart He favoured you. 
 with the light of faith, provided yoa 
 with necessary instructors, and nou- 
 rished you with his sacraments. When 
 you turned your back upon him, and 
 walked in the ways of iniquity, he fol- 
 lowed after you with the solicitude of 
 a parent, and importuned you, by his
 
 58 Third Sunday 
 
 graces and inspirations, to return ta 
 his embraces : he did not suffer your 
 conscience to be hardened in guilt : he 
 convinced you of the emptiness, and 
 vanity of sinful pleasures, and tortured 
 you witb anxiety and remorse : he dis- 
 played before your eyes the charms of 
 innocence, and by the voice ,of his 
 ministers, urged you in the most press- 
 ing terms to give peace to your soul 
 by throwing yourself into its arms : at 
 the time even that I am speaking, he 
 works within you, and inspires me with 
 these sentiments in order to reclaim 
 you. Ah! my dear friend, your whole 
 life has been one continued chain of 
 graces ; and you will discover hereafter, 
 that it has been your greatest crime to 
 have received so much, and to have 
 profited so little. 
 
 If, indeed, by grace, you mean that 
 miraculous grace, which in a moment 
 converted Paul the persecutor into an 
 apostle, you probably have never yet
 
 of Advent. 59 
 
 received it ; and more probably never 
 will i it would be presumption to ex- 
 pect it. : No i you will never receive a 
 grace that will exempt you from diffi- 
 culties, that will break your chains, 
 and subdue your passions without your 
 concurrence. Your conversion will 
 necessarily cost you. dear : you will 
 have many violent struggles with cor- 
 rupt nature before your evil inclina- 
 tions are repressed, before you can tear 
 yourselves from the dear, but criminal 
 objects of your affections, and make 
 the sacrifice of every thing that holds 
 you in captivity. The grace, which 
 the saints received, and which made 
 them saints, did not exempt them from 
 these conflicts ; and if you wait for a 
 greater grace, before you enter upon 
 the work of self-reformation, you 
 might as well give up your soul for 
 lost, and consign yourself to the hor- 
 rors of despair. 
 There is another subject, likewise,
 
 60 Third Sunday 
 
 for your consideration : by alledging 
 that you never yet have been favoured 
 with the grace, on which alone a 
 change of life depends, you are guilty 
 of ingratitude against God; and 
 tacitly accuse him of being in some 
 degree the author of your impenitence- 
 You might as well say in plain terms : 
 " God alone can change my heart, 
 and, therefore, it is to no purpose that 
 I attempt it without his special con- 
 currence : I must wait his good 
 time : I have only to spend my 
 days agreeably in pleasure and sin; 
 and when he thinks proper, he will 
 divest me of the old man, and clothe 
 me with the new, without any labour 
 on my part, without my thinking of 
 it, without any previous disposition, 
 but a life of wickedness, and opposi- 
 tion to his graces : salvation that 
 great, that only business for which I 
 came into the world, is no longer en- 
 trusted to me : the Lord has reserved 
 the means, and taken it entirely on
 
 of Advent. 6 1 
 
 himself. " But, my friend, let me ask, 
 in what new gospel is this promise 
 contained, for it is not in the gospel of 
 Jesus Christ? Ah! with reason does 
 the prophet exclaim : the sinner can 
 speak only foolish things in justifica- 
 tion of himself, and he will endeavour 
 to extenuate his crimes in opposition 
 even to God himself, Isa. xxxii. 6. 
 
 Lastly, this pretext is irrational in 
 itself. For what consequence can you 
 deduce, supposing it were true that 
 God had never visited you with his 
 grace? That you would not be ac- 
 countable for the sins you commit, 
 were you to die impenitent ? You dare 
 not say it. That you are allowed to 
 extend the catalogue of your crimes, 
 till God shall please to touch your 
 heart, and impart to you the long ex- 
 pected grace ? That the delay of your 
 repentance will not be criminal in the 
 sight of God, because it depends not 
 on your will? If this excuse, my dear
 
 6% Third Sunday 
 
 friend, were admissible, every sinner^ 
 that defers his repentance^ and dies in 
 his sins, would be justified ; the gates 
 of hell would be shut, and the broad 
 road, in which the multitude are said 
 to walk, would be annihilated. O 
 man! exclaims the apostle, in opposi- 
 tion to the folly, and impiety of this 
 pretext, O, man ! is it thus that you. 
 despise the riches of the bounty of 
 your God ? Are you not aware that 
 his patience in enduring your crimes, 
 ought to be the most cogent motive to 
 hasten your repentance, and not to be 
 alledged as the motive for the con- 
 tinuance of your disorders ? 
 
 If God had actually refused you the 
 assistance of his grace, the following is 
 the only rational consequence to be 
 deduced ; namely,, that your eternal 
 welfare is exposed to the most immi- 
 nent danger, that it is your duty to 
 pray incessantly for the inestimable 
 blessing, of which you are deprived : and
 
 of Advent. 63 
 
 to endeavour, by every means in your 
 power, to appease the anger of God, and, 
 as it were, to take heaven by storm: 
 that it is your duty, in the mean time, 
 to avoid the occasions where your in- 
 nocence has been so often endangered, 
 and to renounce the worldly affections 
 which have hitherto shut your heart 
 against the inspirations of the Holy 
 Ghost. This, my dear friend, would 
 be giving glory to God in a truly 
 Christian manner: this would be sin- 
 cerely confessing his supreme dominion 
 over the heart, and acknowledging that 
 he is the Giver of every good gift.. 
 But to be continually repeating, that 
 God will visit you, when in his mercy 
 he shall think fit; and in the mean 
 time, making no efforts to relinquish 
 the error of your ways, is the height 
 of impiety : you might as well say, "I 
 am not inclined at the present moment 
 to enter upon the service of God : I can, 
 do without him yet a little longer : I
 
 64 Third Sunday 
 
 live happy, and content : when he 
 forces me to attend to his calls, and 
 when I can no longer avoid his so- 
 licitations, then I will yield, then I will 
 say, Lord, here I am : but in the mean 
 time I will enjoy my good fortune, 
 and indulge the liberty he has given 
 me of deferring my conversion to a 
 future period." What a preparation is 
 this, my beloved, for receiving that 
 inestimable grace which works a change 
 of heart ! Nevertheless, this it is that 
 gives confidence to the sinner, and 
 hardens him in his guilt. 
 
 But beware, beloved Christians : the 
 longer you defer your change of life, 
 the less grace you will receive : the 
 more your crimes are multiplied, the 
 farther will God remove himself from 
 you. The moments of mercy flow ra- 
 pidly on: the dreadful time of indigna- 
 tion approaches: and, if it be true that 
 you have not sufficient grace to effect 
 your change to-day, in a short time
 
 of Ad-vent. 65 
 
 you will probably not have sufficient 
 grace to be sensible that you stand in 
 need of repentance. 
 
 2. There is another, and perhaps a 
 more numerous class of sinners, who 
 defer their conversion, not on account 
 of any deficiency of grace, but be- 
 cause they are too much attached to 
 the world ; and are deluded by the 
 supposition, that, if they reform their 
 conduct at a later period of life, their 
 salvation will be as secure as if they 
 embraced the austerities of repentance 
 at the present moment. 
 
 They say, that they cannot devote 
 their younger years to the severe duties 
 of religion; that their blood is too 
 warm to submit to such multiplied re- 
 straints : but that the time will come, 
 when their passions will be cooled, and 
 the pleasures of the world less attrac- 
 tive ; and that then they will apply to 
 their eternal concerns in good earnest. 
 
 In reply to this pretext, it is natural
 
 66 Third Sunday 
 
 to ask ; whether you have an absolute 
 assurance that you will reach that time 
 of life ; that death will not surprise 
 you, during the course of those years, 
 which you so deliberately devote to 
 your passions; and that the Lord, 
 whom you expect only at the third 
 watch, will not come at the first, or 
 second watch, at a time when you least 
 expect him ? Ah ! the thousands whom 
 you see drop into the grave in the very 
 prime of life, proclaim the uncertainty 
 of the term of your existence : perhaps, 
 the sentence is even already pronounced 
 against you : Thou fool ! this night, 
 perhaps, thy soul will be required of 
 thee : and, if so, what will thy pro- 
 jects of a future conversion avail thee? 
 Supposing, however, that you are 
 permitted to reach thut advanced stage 
 of life : are you certain that you 
 will be then more disposed to enter 
 upon a new course of life than you are 
 to-day? Did age change the heart of
 
 of Advent. 67 
 
 Solomon of Saul of Jezabel of He* 
 rodias ? It was then that their pas- 
 sions mounted to the highest pitch, 
 and that their crimes were multiplied 
 beyond number. The same, probably, 
 will be your lot : your old age will 
 either be contaminated with the follies 
 of your youth, or, if satiety should 
 create a disgust for the grosser pas- 
 sions, it will be attended with a hard- 
 ness of heart, and a seared conscience, 
 which will infallibly lead to final im- 
 penitence. 
 
 However, for the sake of argument, 
 we will suppose that you have received 
 an assurance that you will both attain 
 to old age, and be then sincerely 
 reformed. Nevertheless, can you, 
 my beloved brethren, can you seri- 
 ously, and deliberately resolve on treat- 
 ing your God in this unworthy, this 
 contemptuous manner ? He is. the Lord 
 of all ages, and times ; he requires that 
 both the bud, the bloom, and thedecay of
 
 6S Third Sunday 
 
 life be consecrated to him : he is a jea- 
 lous God: he will not give his glory to 
 another, nor endure a partner in your 
 affections. And can you resolve before 
 hand to devote the most precious part of 
 your life to the devil, and his works, and 
 reserve only the shattered remains for 
 your God ? Can you have the harden- 
 ed boldness to say : " Lord, \vhen I am 
 no longer capable of enjoying the world, 
 1 will turn to thee. I shall be always 
 sure of finding thee. But the world, 
 after a certain time, will no longer be 
 an object of amusement. I must en- 
 joy it before it is gone. At a certain 
 age it will reject me; and then, for 
 want of other pleasures, I will turn to- 
 thee : thou alone shalt possess my 
 soul.'* Worthless creature ! with rea- 
 son may I address to you the words, 
 which the prophet Isaiah addressed to 
 his idolatrous neighbours : You take, 
 ' says he, a cedar of Lebanon, you 
 choose the best parts for your plea-
 
 of Advent. 69 
 
 sures, and luxuries, and not kn6wing 
 how to employ the remainder, you 
 carve an image of your idol, and bow 
 down before it, and worship it, Isa. 
 xliv. 15. You, in the same manner, se- 
 lect the most precious parts of your 
 life, and devote them to your passions : 
 and not knowing how to employ the 
 wretched remnant, which has become 
 unfit for the world, you make an idol 
 of it, you consecrate it to religion, 
 and vainly flatter yourselves that your 
 offering will be acceptable to God ! 
 
 Ah ! be not deceived, my beloved 
 friends. You certainly will reap in an 
 advanced age the fruits of that only 
 which you sowed in your youth. 
 If you sow in corruption, says the 
 apostle, you shall reap in corruption, 
 Gal. vi. 8. As you live, so shall you 
 die. 
 
 You perhaps may say, that happy 
 is the man who has served the Lord 
 from his youth ; and that happy
 
 70 Third Sunday 
 
 should you have been, if you had en- 
 joyed the same blessing : but, un- 
 fortunately, you have followed the 
 beaten tract of the world, and are now 
 engaged in pursuits, from which you 
 cannot desist until a more favourable 
 opportunity arrives. 
 
 But, my beloved, are you certain that 
 this favourable opportunity will ever 
 arrive ? Are you certain that you will 
 not be surprised by death ? Would you 
 be the first that was surprised in his 
 sins ? Ah ! this is the common lot of 
 all who walk in the broad ways of the 
 world. Could you but attend the mi- 
 nister of the Lord when he is sum- 
 moned to the bed of sickness : could 
 you hear the useless regrets, the 
 vain protestations of the measures they 
 would have taken, had they foreseen 
 their approaching dissolution, you 
 would be convinced that, seldom is 
 there a man that has completely re- 
 nounced his passions, and prepared
 
 of Advent, 71 
 
 himself by repentance for his last end. 
 If you defer you conveision, the same 
 melancholy task shall we have one day 
 to perform for you. You will summon 
 us in your turn : and, instead of con- 
 gratulating with you on your timely 
 repentance, we shall be necessitated to 
 listen to your useless regrets, and en- 
 deavour, perhaps in vain, to inspire you 
 with sentiments of sincere sorrow; and 
 engage you to look forward with hope 
 to the result of that dreadful scrutiny, 
 for which you intended to have been 
 prepared, and are not. 
 
 Perhaps, however, you may say, that 
 you are disposed, at the present time, 
 to reform your lives ; that you are 
 fully convinced of the emptiness, and 
 folly of worldly pleasures, and would 
 gladly renounce them in order to labour 
 in earnest for your salvation ; but that 
 you are diffident ; that you are afraid 
 lest the difficulties, necessarily attend- 
 ing such an important, and arduous
 
 f l -. 
 
 72 . Third Sunday 
 
 undertaking, should discourage you ; 
 and that, if you make the attempt, 
 and fail, you would be exposed to the 
 ridicule, and scorn of all your acquain- 
 tance. 
 
 But, my dear friends, whence origi- 
 nates this fear? You defer your repent- 
 ance on the supposition, that God will 
 touch your heart at a future period: 
 and, if you reform to-day, you say 
 that you dare not rely on his assist- 
 ance ! You confide in his mercies at 
 the time you offend him ; and you 
 cannot confide in them when you at- 
 tempt to serve him ! O man ! where is 
 that reason, that soundness of judg- 
 ment on which you pride yourselves ? 
 Are you then only senseless, and con- 
 tradictory, when your salvation is at 
 stake ? 
 
 Would it not be more reasonable to 
 say : " I will begin at least : I will try 
 what I can do with the help, and assist- 
 ance of God : the experiment is cer-
 
 of Advent. 73 
 
 tainty worth making." The man who 
 is surprised by the sudden torrent, and 
 in danger of perishing, endeavours 
 to reach the land, and does not give 
 himself up for lost, until his strength 
 is exhausted. He does not say : " Per- 
 haps I shall not succeed ; my strength 
 may possibly fail me; and therefore I 
 will not try to save myself." No : he 
 exerts his whole strength ; he stretches 
 every nerve ; he yields not, till he is 
 fairly overpowered by the force of the 
 torrent that opposes him. You, my 
 friends, are in clanger of perishing : the 
 waters gain upon you : the torrent is 
 carrying you away : and will you hesi- 
 tate whether it be prudent to en- 
 deavour to save yourselves ? Will you 
 sacrifice to deliberation the few mo- 
 ments which alone remain for you to 
 effect your escape, and avoid the death, 
 which has overtaken so many before 
 your eyes ? 
 
 E
 
 74- Third Sunday 
 
 Supposing, however, that you were 
 unable to endure the seventies of re- 
 pentance, and that you were obliged 
 to desist : still you would have the sa- 
 tisfaction to reflect, that you had 
 spent some time in innocence ; that 
 you had made some efforts to appease 
 an angry God ; that you had avoided 
 some sins ; and that the treasure of 
 divine wrath, which is laid up against 
 you, is not quite so great as it other- 
 wise would have been. You would 
 have acquired a right to represent your 
 weakness to your Lord : " Lord ! thou 
 seestmy weakness," you would have a 
 right to say, " thou art witness to the 
 desires of my heart. Why am I not 
 more resolute in thy service, more 
 hardened against the allurements of 
 the world, and more watchful over 
 myself ! Put a final conclusion, O 
 Lord, to my inconstancy : deprive the 
 world of the dominion, which it still
 
 of Advent. 75 
 
 holds over my heart : take possession 
 of thy ancient rights, and draw me 
 not to thee by halves, lest I forsake 
 thee again. I have so often sworn to 
 thee eternal love; I have so often 
 prostrated myself at thy feet ; and, 
 with my eyes bathed in tears, confessed 
 my iniquities, and have again returned 
 to my former ways, that I can no lon- 
 ger confide in my own strength. With 
 a heart so fickle, and inconstant, what 
 can I expect? Be moved, O Lord, at 
 the sight of my danger and distress : 
 my weakness discourages, and alarms 
 me : I know that inconstancy in thy 
 ways is a presage of perdition. But, 
 my God ! whilst I am yet susceptible 
 of the impressions of thy grace, I will 
 endeavour to return to thee : and, if I 
 must lose my soul, I will rather perish 
 in the attempt to be virtuous, than 
 seek an imaginary, a terrible tran- 
 quillity in a fixed; and declared revolt 
 E2
 
 76 Third Sunday 8$c. 
 
 against thee, and thus renounce the 
 hope of those eternal goods, which 
 thou hast prepared for thy faithful 
 servants."
 
 77 
 FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT. 
 
 ON THE DISPOSITIONS REQUIRED FOR 
 A WORTHY COMMUNION. 
 
 Prepare the way of the Lord, make strait 
 his paths Luke iii. 4. 
 
 THESE words the 
 Church incessantly repeats during the 
 time of Advent, in order to infuse into 
 our souls a perfect knowledge of the 
 dispositions which are required for 
 worthily celebrating the approaching 
 solemnity of Christmas. Prepare, she 
 says, the ways of the Lord, make his 
 paths strait. .Let the rallies be jilled 
 up, and the mountains and hills be le- 
 velled: let the crooked roads be made 
 
 E3
 
 78 Fourth Sunday 
 
 strait, and the rough smooth. Or, in- 
 other words, prepare yourselves, my 
 dear children, to reap the abundant 
 fruits of this mystery by humiliation 
 of heart, by meekness and chanty, by 
 uprightness and uniformity of life, by 
 renouncing your own vain wisdom and 
 exalted ideas, and by the spirit of self- 
 denial and penance. 
 
 In the name of the Church, > there- 
 fore, I address the same words to those 
 of my present auditory, who piously 
 intend at this time to purify their souls 
 by the sacrament of penance, and to 
 prepare a place for the spiritual birth of 
 Jesus in their hearts by a worthy com- 
 munion. Prepare the way of the Lord :. 
 the sacrament, which you propose to 
 receive, is the most solemn rite of 
 our religion, and the source of the 
 greatest graces. Take every precau- 
 tion, adopt every means which can con- 
 tribute to prepare your souls for a wor- 
 thy communication with the Deity :.
 
 of Advent. 79 
 
 \ 
 for there is this dreadful alternative ; 
 
 if your hearts be not worthily disposed, 
 this heavenly bread, instead of nourish- 
 ing your souls, and fitting you for 
 eternal life, will draw down on your 
 heads the heaviest judgments, even 
 eternal damnation. Perhaps you may 
 say: "If there be this alternative, it 
 would be more adviseable to abstain 
 from this divine food." By no means : 
 in this bread alone will you find the 
 true nourishment of your souls : it is 
 the strength of the strong, and the 
 support of the weak ; the consolation 
 of the afflicted, and the pledge of eter- 
 nal happiness. To communicate sel- 
 dom, is the surest way to communicate 
 unworthily. I repeat therefore again : 
 Prepare ye the way of the Lord. 
 
 The importance of the subject is 
 worthy your most serious attention. 
 On the one side, you are to avoid the 
 most grievous of all crimes the pro- 
 fanation of the body and blood of the 
 E4
 
 80 Fourth Sunday 
 
 Son of God : and on the other, you are 
 to qualify yourselves in a proper man- 
 ner for reaping the immense fruits of a 
 worthy communion. The dispositions 
 which are indispensably requisite foF 
 this important work, I will reduce to 
 three, namely, a lively faith, a pure 
 conscience, and an ardent love : these 
 I will discuss as briefly as the subject 
 will permit., 
 
 1. The first disposition required, is a 
 lively faith. I speak not of that faith 
 which distinguishes us from unbeliev- 
 ers, and which the mercy of God in- 
 fused into our souls in our very infancy : 
 but 1 speak of that faith, which pierces 
 tke clouds where the Most High re- 
 sides : I speak of that faith, which 
 beholds him, not as through a perspec- 
 tive glass, but as if face to face : I 
 speak of that faith, which sees the an- 
 gels covering their faces with their 
 wings, and the pillars of heaven tremb- 
 ling in the presence of this great King-;
 
 of Advent. 8 1 
 
 of that faith, which would not be in- 
 creased by the testimony of the senses, 
 and which is happy, not because it has 
 not seen and has believed, but because 
 here its belief has made him, as it were, 
 present to the sight : I speak of that 
 humble faith, which approaches to the 
 altar, like Moses to the burning bush, 
 like the Israelites to Mount Sinai' ; 
 of that faith, which feels the presence 
 of the Deity, and which cries out with 
 St. Peter: Depart jrom me, O Lord, 
 for I am a mortal man, and a sinner, 
 Luke v. 8. I speak of that faith, 
 which annihilates the soul in the pre- 
 sence of the God of Majesty, and fills 
 her with dread, lest she should present 
 herself at his table without due dispo- 
 sitions, without the wedding garment. 
 
 This is the faith, which the apostle 
 requires in all who approach the holy 
 table. But, my God ! can such a 
 faith be found upon earth ! If thou wert 
 again to appear amongst us, thou
 
 82 Fourth Sunday 
 
 wouldst find thy chosen people, the 
 Christians, as sensual, and as carnal, 
 as thy once chosen people the Jews : 
 thou wouldst be a stranger amongst us. 
 Ah ! my beloved, when he shall be 
 seen coming in the clouds of heaven, 
 men shall wither away through fear ; 
 the sinner shall hide his face, and call 
 out to the mountains to fall upon him, 
 and cover him : and is not the same 
 God seated on our altars.? Do not the 
 celestial spirits descend from heaven, and 
 minister to the priest when he offers up 
 the tremendous mysteries ? Yes : from 
 this mysterious tribunal, the great God 
 of heaven examines the heart of every 
 individual that bends his knee before 
 him : he separates the elect from the 
 reprobate ; he passes the sentence of 
 dath and of life ; he holds the thun- 
 ders of his vengeance in one hand, and 
 crowns of glory in the other. 
 
 Formerly, no one could see God and 
 live. The unhappy Bethshamites were
 
 of Advent. 83 
 
 exterminated merely for looking into 
 the ark : Heliodorus was chastised vi- 
 sibly by angels from heaven, because 
 he presumed to enter the sanctuary : 
 the Israelites were not permitted to ap- 
 proach the mount, when God gave the 
 
 commandments, But now, because 
 
 the fire of his wrath does not burst 
 -forth from our altars, and destroy the 
 wretch who presumes unworthily to 
 approach him, we receive him into our 
 breasts without fear, without respect ! 
 Half an hour employed in reciting a 
 set form of prayers, is our only prepara- 
 tion : we receive him we recite a few 
 more prayers, in the same tepid manner 
 as the first and depart, perhaps never 
 more to thank him for this unutterable 
 favour. Ah ! if we beheld the body 
 of the Lord in its glorified state present 
 before us ; if the testimony of faith 
 made the same impression on our mind 
 as the testimony of the senses, with what 
 E6
 
 84 Fourth Sunday 
 
 sentiments should we present ourselves 
 at the sacred table * How constantly, 
 how profoundly would our thoughts be 
 employed even for a month before- 
 hand ! and when the time itself drew 
 near, with what ardour should we 
 devote the preceding days to retire- 
 ment, to silence, to prayer, and mortifi- 
 cation ! ifes : my beloved, every in- 
 stant would increase our solicitude, our 
 fears, and our joy. With difficulty 
 should we be able to divest ourselves 
 sufficiently of that awful respect, with 
 which the presence of incomprehensi- 
 ble Majesty inspired us, and to assume 
 sufficient confidence to open our hearts 
 to so great a guest. Whether we were 
 engaged in our accustomed occupa- 
 tions, in company, or in amusements, 
 we should be unable to divert our 
 thoughts from this subject : Jesus, and 
 his infinite love and condescension, 
 would engross our whole attention.
 
 of Advent. 85 
 
 The Christian who is affected in this 
 manner, truly discerns the body of the 
 Lord. 
 
 The worldly man, I acknowledge, is 
 troubled and confused on the approach 
 of a solemnity, when either custom, 
 example, or the laws of the Church, 
 require that he should present himself 
 at the table of the Lord. But, my 
 God ! whence originate these senti- 
 ments ? From a heart overflowing with 
 love and fear? From a heart which is 
 convinced of its unworthiness, and 
 which, prostrate in spirit at the feet of 
 Christ, implores the pardon of its mul- 
 tiplied transgressions ? No, my be- 
 loved : they are engendered by a heart 
 which delights not in the things of 
 God ; which loathes the delicacies of 
 the banquet of the Lord : which, like 
 the blind and the dumb in the gospel, is 
 dragged by the laws of the Church 
 from the lanes and hedges, and high-
 
 85 Fourth Sunday 
 
 ways of perdition, and placed against 
 its will at the marriage table. 
 
 The true Christian, on the contrary, 
 has a greater relish for this heavenly 
 bread, than for all the luxuries of the 
 world. This divine food is the only 
 comfort in his banishment, the remedy 
 for all his evils, the alleviation of all his 
 afflictions, the desirable object of his 
 wishes and tears. He is more attentive, 
 more cautious, more solicitous in his 
 preparations to receive it, than about 
 any other action in life. 
 
 Now, my brethren, examine your- 
 selves, and certify with candour and im- 
 partiality, whether or not you are ani- 
 mated with this lively faith of the true 
 Christian. We will then proceed to 
 the second part of the preparation, 
 which consists in a purified conscience, 
 and to which St. Paul alludes in these 
 words : Let a man prove himself before 
 he eat of this bread, 1 Cor. xi
 
 ef Advent. 87 
 
 2. But in what does this probation 
 consist? Is it merely in the confession 
 of sins, and in the transitory sentiments 
 of contrition, with which, the genera- 
 lity of Christians are animated on 
 these occasions ? Far from it. You- 
 must reflect, that you are hastening to 
 receive the body of Jesus Christ, the 
 bread of angels, the Lamb without 
 spot, who will endure those only in his 
 sight, who have either preserved their 
 innocence undefiled, or have regained 
 it* by repentance. You must reflect, 
 that it is the Christian Passover of 
 which you propose to partake, and 
 that the participation is lawful only to 
 those who are the disciples of Jesus in- 
 deed ; who renounce their own will, 
 who carry their cross, and who walk 
 in the footsteps of their crucified Sa- 
 viour. You must reflect, that you are 
 about to receive a God of such infinite 
 purity, that the angels are not clean in, 
 his sight, and consequently, that you
 
 88 Fourth Sunday 
 
 must banish from your heart every de- 
 filement, every stain that is offensive to 
 the eyes of his sanctity. This, my be- 
 loved, is your probation. Examine 
 yourselves, therefore ; look into the 
 state of your souls ; scrutinize your af- 
 fections ; reason with yourselves in 
 this manner : " I am invited to partake 
 of the sacred body and blood of my 
 Jesus, and to partake in such a manner 
 as to be changed into him. But when 
 this great Searcher of hearts shall enter 
 into my breast, will he discover no- 
 thing that is unworthy of the sanctity 
 of his presence ? Will he find the source 
 of my passions and vices dried up, or 
 will he find that the torrent is pent up 
 only for a time ? Will he say to my 
 soul, as he said to Zacheus : This day 
 salvation is come to this house ? Luke 
 xix. 9. Have I entirely subdued that 
 passion which has so long exercised its 
 tyranny over me ? that spirit of re- 
 sentment, of which I
 
 of Advent. 89 
 
 myself guilty, and repentant at the 
 feet of God's minister r that love of 
 riches, which has so often led me into 
 acts of injustice ? that unequal and 
 capricious temper, which is impassioned 
 by the slightest contradiction ? that 
 vanity, which despises the lowly state 
 in which my forefathers lived ? that 
 envy, \v hich was always jealous of the 
 reputation and prosperity of my equals? 
 that censorious and malignant dis- 
 position, which is always ready to con- 
 demn the actions of others, and to ap- 
 plaud my own ? that spirit of sen- 
 suality, of pleasure, and of immortifi- 
 cation, which reigns in my whole 
 frame ? Has the confession of my 
 crimes entirely eradicated them from 
 my heart ? Am I a new man ? What 
 am I, O God ? Am I dead, or am I 
 alive in thy sight ? Enlighten my eyes, 
 I beseech thee, and sutfer not thy 
 Christ, thy Holy One to see corrup* 
 tion." In this manner, my beloved
 
 90 Fourth Sunday 
 
 friends, ought we to prove ourselves. 
 God forbad the Jews to offer honey 
 and leaven in sacrifice : see that you 
 bring not to the altar the leaven of sin 
 and the honey of pleasure; I mean, 
 that love of pleasure and the world, 
 that soft and effeminate disposition, 
 which is an enemy to the cross, and ir- 
 reconcileable with salvation. 
 
 3. In the third place, when we com- 
 municate, we must endeavour to be ani- 
 mated with the same sentiments with 
 which our Lord was animated when he 
 instituted this sacrament / have ar- 
 dently longed, said he to his apostles, to 
 eat this pasch with you, Luke xxii. 15. 
 He sighed for the happy moment : the 
 thought of it soothed the agonizing 
 pains which were occasioned by the 
 foresight of his approaching passion. 
 Here then is our model. We must seat 
 ourselves at this heavenly table with a 
 heart burning with the seraphic flames 
 of love,, with a heart panting after the
 
 of Advent. 91 
 
 waters of life, with a heart tormented 
 with a holy hunger and thirst for the 
 body and blood of her Redeemer. 
 " Lord, come and take full possession 
 of my soul," the pious Christian ex- 
 claims with St. Augustine, Conf. b. 1. 
 c. ,5. " come, O Lord, and be my only 
 delight; satisfy my eager desires, ine- 
 briate me with the torrent of thy plea- 
 sures : take off my affections from all 
 creatures, from the whole world itself, 
 and unite me to thee for ever. If thou 
 shouldst discover in my soul any re- 
 mains of my former corruption, cleanse 
 me with thy grace ; command that I be 
 made whole, John v. 6. Come, O Lord, 
 and delay not : every good thing will 
 come together with tbee : sufferings, 
 persecutions, afflictions, and humilia- 
 tions, will appear as nothing, when I 
 shall have tasted thy ineffable sweet- 
 ness." These, my beloved, are the sen- 
 timents which ought to accompany us 
 to the altar.
 
 92 Fourth Sunday 
 
 But, alas ! what are the sentiments of 
 the generality of Christians ? Some 
 have a loathing, a disgust for this di- 
 
 O * O 
 
 vine food ; to partake of it at the times 
 of indulgence, is thought too often : 
 some would not communicate even 
 once a year, were they not driven to 
 the altar by the anathemas and excom- 
 munications of the Church. My God! 
 is it possible that this precept of love, 
 which constitutes the whole happiness 
 of a Christian on earth, should be 
 considered even by a single individual 
 as a painful duty ! Is it possible that 
 the most glorious privilege, with which 
 man can be favoured, should be a sub- 
 ject of constraint and disquietude! 
 Didst thou expect such treatment, O 
 divine Jesus ! when, out of compassion 
 to lost man, thou didst bequeath thy- 
 self to him in this adorable sacra- 
 ment ? Others approach the altar with 
 a sluggish heart, a depraved taste, a 
 frozen soul, These people frequent
 
 of Advent. 93 
 
 the sacraments, and'indulge in worldly 
 pleasures alternately : they partake as 
 freely of the table of Satan, as of the 
 table of Jesus : they attempt to serve 
 two masters. A communion costs them 
 only one day of restraint and reserve : 
 their devotion ends with the solemnity : 
 they are content with what they have 
 done, and they return, as if by a pre- 
 concerted agreement with self-love, to 
 their former ways. Thus they come to 
 the banquet with a palate vitiated by 
 the pleasures and follies of the world : 
 they taste not the sweets of this hea- 
 venly food : the tumult of their pas- 
 sions, the recollection of their unlawful 
 pastimes, make a greater impression on 
 their minds, than the presence of Jesus. 
 Against these the Royal Prophet de- 
 nounces a curse : May their table be to 
 them a snare, a stumbling-block, and a 
 scandal, Ps. Ixviii. 23. 
 
 To communicate in commemoration 
 of Jesus, my beloved brethren, we must
 
 94 Fourth Sunday 
 
 awaken in our souls all the tender emo- 
 tions, which are naturally excited in the 
 mind of a lover when communing with 
 the object of his dearest affections. 
 The most tender connections are weak- 
 ened, the warmest friendship is cooled 
 by absence. Jesus foresaw that, after 
 his ascension, his disciples would soon 
 forget his favours and instructions, 
 Moses was only forty days on the 
 mount, and yet, in that short interval 
 of time, the Israelites forgot the prodi- 
 gies which he had wrought in their fa- 
 vour: Let us make gods, they said, who 
 may go before us^ and defend us from 
 our enemies, Exod. xxxii. 1. In con- 
 sideration of this our natural inconstan- 
 cy, the paternal goodness of our divine 
 Redeemer would not leave us in an or- 
 phan and defenceless state : his infinite 
 love would not expose us to the danger 
 of forgetting him, and therefore he de- 
 scends daily on our altars ; he resides 
 constantly in our tabernacle. From
 
 of Advent. 95 
 
 hence the voice of the turtle dove is 
 heard, calling to her beloved, (Cant. ii. 
 12.) : here we may enjoy his presence, 
 and dwell with increasing raptures on 
 his wonders, his blessings, and his love. 
 
 Our pious ancestors, with a truly re- 
 ligious spirit, visited the land which he 
 had sanctified by his presence. The 
 sentiments which were inspired by the 
 sight of the places where he wrought 
 his principal miracles, and shed his pre- 
 cious blood for our salvation, gave 
 confidence to repenting sinners, en- 
 dowed the weak with strength, and in- 
 flamed the just with increased ardour. 
 
 It is not necessary, however, to cross 
 the seas. Salvation is near at hand. 
 The word which we preach will, if you 
 please, rest on your lips and in your 
 heart. Open the eyes of faith fix 
 them on the altar, and you will see, not 
 a country which he formerly sanctified 
 by his presence, but Jesus Christ him- 
 self. Approach, then, in commemora-
 
 96 . Fourth Sunday 
 
 tion of him.: draw near to this un- 
 quenchable fire of love : rekindle in 
 your breasts the seraphic flames of affec- 
 tion and gratitude. Learn from his 
 
 meekness, which would not suffer him 
 to break the bruised reed, or extinguish 
 the smoaking flax, (Isa. xlii. 3. Matt, 
 xii. 20.) that is, to revenge the injuries 
 he received from the weakest, the most 
 defenceless of mankind ; learn, I say, 
 to correct the sallies of an impatient 
 and hasty temper. From his laborious 
 and painful life, learn to renounce a life 
 of softness and ease. From his modesty 
 and humility, learn to correct the odi- 
 ous passions of pride and vain-glory. 
 From his zeal against the profaners of 
 his temple, learn to present yourselves 
 before him with respect and fear. 
 From his fast of forty days, learn to 
 exercise yourselves in the holy virtues 
 of mortification and penance. From 
 his love and charity for lost man, learn 
 to pity the distresses of the afflicted,
 
 of Advent. 97 
 
 and to relieve their wants. From his 
 pious and instructive conversation with 
 his disciples, learn to converse with 
 your neighbour in the language of 
 piety and instruction. In a word, 
 from his innocence and example, learn 
 to correct every imperfection, every 
 weakness to which you have hitherto 
 been subject. In this manner, you 
 will communicate in commemoration 
 of Jesus. 
 
 But if you approach the altar with a 
 heart constantly defiled with the same im- 
 perfections imperfections, a hundred 
 times repented of, and never sincerely 
 renounced; if you do not endeavour to 
 advance daily more and more in the 
 ways of perfection, but propose to 
 yourselves a certain degree of sanctity, 
 beyond which you never intend to pass ; 
 if you relapse as often as you pretend 
 to repent, and, after many years, are 
 not more devout than you were at first ; 
 if you continue addicted to animosi- 
 
 VOL. i. F
 
 98 Fourth Sunday 
 
 ties, dislikes, calumny, detraction, va- 
 nity, and pride ; and if you are as 
 unmortified, and as much the enemy of 
 the cross of Christ as betore, oh ! you 
 have more than sufficient reason to 
 tremble. 
 
 Perhaps you may ask : " Does the 
 Christian, who is defiled with these 
 habitual imperfections, receive the body 
 of the Lord unworthily ?" This ques- 
 tion can be solved only by the great 
 Searcher of hearts. The following is 
 the only answer that man can give: 
 namely, that such a one does not com- 
 municate in commemoration of Jesus 
 that, at the last day, many things 
 which appear right and just to man, 
 will be discovered to have been abomi- 
 nations in the eyes of God that 
 many, who had even prophesied in his 
 name, will be rejected with, I know 
 you not and that the state of such a 
 communicant is exposed to the great- 
 est danger. Peter, although the voice
 
 of Advent, 99 
 
 of Truth had declared him undefiled, 
 was not permitted to partake of the 
 last supper, until Jesus had washed his 
 feet. Magdalen, although she had 
 washed away her sins, and bathed the 
 feet of her Saviour with floods of tears, 
 was forbidden to touch him after his 
 resurrection, because her eagerness was 
 not divested of every imperfection. 
 And we, defiled and imperfect as we 
 are, strangers to t rue penance, i ntent 
 only on enjoyment and ease, tepid, and 
 callous to the tender feelings of divine 
 love we, who neither endeavour nor 
 desire. to advance in piety beyond a cer- 
 tain point we frequently partake of 
 
 his sacred body ! O ! what an abyss, 
 
 my friends, perhaps, what a multi- 
 tude of crimes is concealed from our 
 view, of which we repent not, because 
 we are ignorant of their existence; 
 and which, perhaps, are the stock on 
 which we. engraft innumerable ' pro- 
 fanations ! What an abyss ! I say 
 F<2
 
 100 Fourth Sunday 
 
 '- V ' 
 
 again what a mystery of iniquity 
 will, perhaps^ be revealed on the day 
 
 of final retribution ! What am 
 
 I in thy sight, O God ! I can neither 
 please thee nor displease thee by 
 halves; my state will not allow me to 
 steer a middle course between virtue 
 and vice : if I am not a saint, I am a 
 sacrilegious profaner : if I am not a 
 vessel of honour, I am a vessel of dis- 
 honour : if I am not an angel of light 
 -(there is no medium) -I am an angel 
 of darkness : if I am not the living 
 temple of the Holy Ghost, I am a den 
 of unclean spirits. Good God ! what 
 powerful motives are here for vigilance, 
 circumspection, fear, and love, when 
 we receive the holy communion. 
 
 Ah ! the fruits produced by one 
 worthy communion are so abundant, so 
 manifest, the soul is overwhelmed with 
 such a torrent of heavenly graces and 
 communications, that, had I no other 
 reason to suspect the unworthiness of
 
 of Advent. 101 
 
 my communions, than the little proiit 
 I reap from them, I should have suffi- 
 cient reason to tremble. The Christi- 
 an, who partakes worthily of this sa- 
 cred food, feels his pious hunger in- 
 creased ; and I retire from the holy 
 table fatigued, and satiated ; I rejoice 
 that the business is concluded, as if it 
 were a painful, an unwelcome task. 
 The Christian, who partakes wor- 
 thily of this sacred food, lives only for 
 God ; and I continue to live for the 
 world, for myself, for my friends, ,for 
 my family ; seldom do I live a single 
 
 day for God alone. What then 
 
 must I do ? Ought I to refrain from 
 this sacred food ? What ! shall the 
 fruit of the tree of life be forbid- 
 den me? What! shall the bread of 
 consolation be no more broken for me? 
 
 No : my God ! thou wilt not 
 
 banish me from thy table. Thou wili- 
 est onl/ that I put on the wedding gar- 
 ment : thou dost not refuse me the 
 F3
 
 J 02 Fourth Sunday, fyc. 
 
 bread of thy children, but thou wiliest 
 that I should not, by my unworthi- 
 ness, oblige thee to give me a serpent 
 in its place. Come, then, dear Je- 
 sus, and prepare a place in my heart 
 worthy of thy presence : humble my 
 pride; correct my failings; purify my 
 desires. Thou alone canst be the pre- 
 cursor to prepare thy ways. Fill the 
 immense void in my soul with the gifts 
 of thy Holy Spirit ; enable me to par- 
 take worthily of thy sacred body at 
 the approaching solemnity ; and to 
 live solely, and eternally for thee, O 
 Jesus, my Mediator, my Lord, my 
 God, and my All ; to whom be honour, 
 and power, and praise, and glory, and 
 benediction for ever and ever. Amen.
 
 103 
 CHRISTMAS DAY. 
 
 ON THE BENEFITS CONFERRED ON 
 MAN BY THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 
 
 / bring you good tidings of great joy 
 which shall be to all the people ; for 
 this day is born to you a Saviour, 
 who is Christ the Lord, in the city 
 of David. '*Jr . Luke ii. 10, 11. 
 
 THESE are the great 
 tidings which had raised the expec- 
 tations of the world during the long 
 period of four thousand years : this 
 is the great event, which so many 
 prophets had foretold, so many cere- 
 monies had prefigured, so many just 
 men had looked for, and which all 
 nature seemed to promise, and to has- 
 ten, by the universal corruption of all 
 F4
 
 ] 04- Christmas Day. 
 
 flesh : this is the great blessing, which 
 the goodness of God had prepared for 
 man, from the time that the infidelity 
 of his first parents had subjected him 
 to sin, and death. 
 
 The Saviour, the Christ the Lord 
 at length appeals on the earth. The 
 clouds rain down the Just One : the 
 Star of Jacob is manifested to the 
 universe : the sceptre is taken from 
 Juda; and he, who was to come, is 
 arrived : the Lord exhibits to his cho- 
 sen people the promised sign : a virgin 
 conceives, and brings forth a son ; and 
 from Bethlehem the leader comes forth, 
 who is to instruct and govern his peo- 
 ple Israel. 
 
 What an accumulation of blessings 
 does this birth announce to the chil- 
 dren of men ! It would not have been 
 so pompously announced, so ardently 
 expected, and desired during so many 
 ag;es : it would not have been the 
 
 o ' 
 
 great object of all the great disprensa-
 
 Christmas Day. 105 
 
 tions of God to man, had it not been 
 the most signal testimony of love 
 which the Almighty could give to his 
 creatures. What a happy night !' The 
 heavens resound with canticles of 
 thanksgiving and praise. 
 
 In order that we may be entitled to 
 participate in the transports of joy, 
 which this wonderful mystery dis- 
 penses in heaven, and on earth, it is 
 necessary that we be disposed to par- 
 take of the blessings, which it has 
 purchased for us. The only cause of 
 this universal gladness, is the means of 
 salvation, which this mystery has pro- 
 cured for all mankind. If, therefore, 
 instead of embracing these means, we 
 are obstinately resolved on perishing, 
 the church weeps over us; and we 
 mingle sorrow, and grief with the joy, 
 which these happy tidings occasion. 
 
 But, what are the inestimable bles- 
 sings, which the birth of the Son. of 
 God has purchased for man ? They are. 
 F5
 
 1 06 . Christmas Day. 
 
 proclaimed by the angel to the shep- 
 herds ; Glory to God on high; and 
 peace to men of good will. The glory, 
 which ignorant, and infatuated man 
 had attempted to usurp, is secured to 
 God; and the peace, to which man had 
 been hitherto a stranger, is imparted 
 to him. The first shall form the sub- 
 stance of the present discourse ; and 
 the second shall be reserved for a future 
 discussion. 
 
 1. Man was placed on earth for the 
 sole purpose of giving to the Author of 
 his existence the glory, and homage, 
 which exclusively belonged to him.- 
 Every created object reminded him 
 of this duty, To the sovereign majesty 
 of his God he owed the tribute of ho- 
 mage, and adoration : to his paternal 
 goodness, the tribute of love ; to his 
 infinite wisdom, the sacrifice of his rea- 
 son, and understanding. These duties 
 were engraven in his heart, and im- 
 planted in his very nature ; they were
 
 Christmas Day. 107 
 
 incessantly announced to him by every 
 creature ; man could not listen to the 
 dictates of his own heart, or to the 
 silent voice of the inanimate creation, 
 without hearing them enforced. Ne- 
 vertheless he forgot them : he turned 
 a deaf ear to every admonition, and 
 entirely effaced them from his mind. 
 The idolater gave to creatures that 
 glory which was due to the Creator 
 alone: the Jew honoured him w r ith 
 his lips, and confined his testimonies of 
 love and gratitude to an exterior ho- 
 mage, which was unworthy of his in- 
 finite majesty : while the philosopher, 
 hewildered, and lost in the intricacies 
 of his own researches, measured the 
 understanding of God by that of man, 
 and vainly thought that reason, which 
 was a stranger even to its own nature, 
 could fathom the deepest truths. With 
 these three evils was the whole world 
 infected. God was either not known, 
 or not glorified; and man forgot his 
 F6
 
 108 Christmas Day. 
 
 own weakness, and corruption, by lis- 
 tening to the suggestions of ignorant 
 pride. 
 
 To what excess did idolatry extend 
 its profane worship ! The death of an 
 universally admired character was the 
 signal for his introduction to the 
 rank of a divinity, and his vile remains, 
 on which his inanity was stampt in the 
 most indelible character, became the 
 title of his imaginary glory, and im- 
 mortality. Conjugal love had its pe- 
 culiar duties ; impure love imitated its 
 example, and erected altars to its own 
 shameful abominations. The adulterer, 
 and the fornicator had their temples, 
 their priests, and their sacrifices. 
 The general folly, or rather, the gene- 
 ral corruption adopted this confused, 
 and detestable worship : the whole 
 world was infected with it : the laws 
 of empires authorized it: the splendor 
 of the sacrifices, the magnificence of 
 the temples, and the immense riches of
 
 Christmas Day. 109 
 
 the idols, gave an awful respectability 
 to its extravagance. Every nation was 
 jealous of having gods of its own: 
 and when no individual of the human 
 species could be found, who had so far 
 distinguished himself as to be judged 
 Avorthy of the god-head, they pros- 
 tituted their adoration to the brute 
 creation. Impure homage became the 
 worship of these impure divinities : 
 cities, mountains, fields, and deserts 
 were defiled by the superb edifices 
 erected to the gods of pride, impurity, 
 and revenge. The multitude of divini- 
 ties was equal to that of the passions : 
 gods were almost as numerous as men: 
 every thing was a god on earth, except 
 the God who made it. Pie alone was 
 unheard of by the greater number of 
 his creatures. He alone was either re- 
 jected, forgotten, or unknown. 
 
 In this manner was the world, al- 
 most from the beginning, plunged in 
 the horrors of darkness, and ignorance :
 
 1 10 Christmas Day. 
 
 every age added new impieties. The 
 nearer the time approached, which was 
 decreed for the coming of the Messiah, 
 the more did the corruption of man 
 increase : Rome herself, the mis- 
 tress of the world, adopted every mode 
 of worship peculiar to the different na- 
 tions who submitted to her yoke ; and 
 erected within her walls temples to the 
 idols of every conquered people ; 
 temples, which might be more properly 
 denominated the public monuments 
 of her folly, than of her victories. 
 
 But the general corruption of all- 
 flesh could not induce the Almighty to 
 shower down the fire of his wrath on 
 the guilty, as formerly on Sodom and 
 Gomorrah, nor to exterminate the 
 whole race by another deluge : no ; 
 his mercy had decreed to effect their 
 salvation. He placed in the heavens the 
 sign of his alliance with mankind; and 
 this true sign was not the luminous 
 rainbow which appears in the clouds,
 
 Christmas Day. 1 1 I 
 
 but Jesus Christ his only Son, the 
 Word made flesh, the true seal of an 
 eternal alliance, and the only light 
 which enlighteneth the world. 
 
 On this day he appeared on the 
 earth, and restored to his Father the 
 glory, which an impious idolatry had 
 endeavoured to wrest from him. The 
 homage^ which his pure and immacu- 
 late soul, united to the Word Incar- 
 nate, paid to the majesty of God, made 
 abundant amends in an instant for all 
 the honour which an ungrateful world 
 had withheld from him, and prosti- 
 tuted on creatures. An Adorer God- 
 man, gave more glory to the Divinity, 
 than all ages, and all idolatrous na- 
 tions had taken from him. Agreeable 
 must this homage of an Incarnate God 
 have been in the eyes of the Great 
 Sovereign of the universe; since it 
 alone erased idolatry from the earth, 
 overturned its profane altai^ crumbled 
 to dust the vain, idols, imposed silence
 
 1 1 2 Christmas Day. 
 
 on the oracles of devils, and changed 
 their superb temples, which had hi- 
 therto been the asylums of every abo- 
 mination, into houses of adoration, 
 and prayer. Thus was the face of the 
 earth renewed: (Ps. ciii. 30.) the 
 only true God, who had hitherto been 
 unknown in the midst of cities the 
 most renowned for learning, and civi- 
 lization, began to be adored: the 
 world acknowledged its Maker: God 
 entered into the possession of his 
 rights : a worship worthy of him was 
 established over the earth: and adorers 
 were selected in every place, Avho began 
 to adore him in spirit and truth. 
 
 This was the first benefit arising 
 from the birth of Christ. But, my 
 beloved brethren, are we partakers of 
 this benefit ? We do not indeed adore 
 idols: we abhor an incestuous Jupiter, 
 an impure Venus, a dissolute Apollo, 
 a cruel and vindictive Mars. But is 
 the true God more glorified, in the 
 whole, by us, than he was by the pa
 
 Christmas Day. 113 
 
 q;ans ? Do we not substitute in his 
 
 o . 
 
 place, and adore riches, sensuality, the 
 world and its pleasures ? For every 
 thing, that we love more than God, 
 we adore : every thing that we prefer 
 before our Creator, we make the God 
 of our heart : every thing, that exer- 
 cises supreme dominion over our 
 thoughts and actions, our desires and 
 affections, our hopes and fears, is in 
 reality the object of our worship ; and 
 in this sense, may it not be said with 
 truth, that our passions are our gods, 
 and that to them we sacrifice the true 
 God? 
 
 How many idols of this description 
 are there in the Christian world ! 
 Impure love has its votaries r at its 
 shrine are sacrificed riches, repose, 
 peace of mind, and health both of body 
 and soul. Wealth is a divinity, which 
 engrosses the thoughts, the cares, the 
 actions, the soul, the mind, the will 
 of thousands : its altars are incessantly
 
 1 1 4 Christmas Day. 
 
 surrounded, and no sacrifice is refused 
 which it exacts as the price of its fa- 
 vours. Shameful intemperance, like- 
 wise, which vilifies the name, and 
 character of man, which is the bane 
 of morality, which stupifies and drowns 
 the brightest talents in the excesses of 
 liquor and debauchery, and leaves a 
 relish and inclination for nothing but 
 the grossest pleasures of the sensual 
 appetite; this shameful intemperance, 
 I say, is another idol ; and its senseless 
 votaries proclaim, that life would not 
 be worth enjoying, unless a considera- 
 ble portion of it were consecrated to 
 
 its worship. The passions of men 
 
 created the impure gods of heathen- 
 ism : and Jesus destroyed those idols, 
 by subduing the passions which created 
 them. You seat them again on their 
 usurped throne, when you indulge the 
 same passions which made the whole 
 world idolaters. Of what avail is it, 
 therefore, to know that there is only
 
 Christmas Day. M5 
 
 one God, if you prostitute your ho- 
 mage to other objects ? True worship 
 proceeds from the heart; and if you 
 devote not your heart to the service of 
 God, you substitute, like the pagans, 
 vile creatures in his place, and you 
 give him not the glory which belongs 
 to him. 
 
 The object, therefore, of the birth 
 of Jesus was, not merely to manifest 
 the name of his Father to mankind, 
 and to establish on the ruins of idolatry 
 the knowledge of the true God, but 
 to form a congregation of adorers, who 
 would place neither merit, nor reli- 
 ance in exterior worship, when di- 
 vested of the interior spirit of purity 
 and love; and who would consider 
 mercy, justice, and sanctity, as the 
 most acceptable offering to the Di- 
 vinity, and the most pompous orna- 
 ments of his worship. This is the se- 
 cond important benefit arising from 
 the birth of Christ.
 
 1 16 Christmas Day. 
 
 2. God was known in Judea, says 
 the prophet. Judea erected no idol 
 in her public places ; nor paid to any 
 other the homage which was due to 
 the God of her father Abraham, Num. 
 xxiii. 21. This was the only portion 
 of the earth preserved from the general 
 contagion. But the magnificence of 
 her temple, the- splendor of her sacri- 
 fices, the pomp of her solemnities, the 
 exactitude of her legal observances had 
 alone engrossed the attention of her 
 children. She entered not into the 
 spirit of interior worship, but confined 
 her whole religion to the strict per- 
 formance of these exterior duties. The 
 morals of her inhabitants were not less 
 corrupt than were those of the Gen- 
 tiles: injustice, fraud, deceit, adultery, 
 and every vice was prevalent, and even 
 promoted by their attention to exterior 
 observances alone. God was honoured 
 with the lips, but the hearts of this un- 
 grateful people were far from him.
 
 Christmas Day. 1 1 7 
 
 Jesus came to undeceive Judea of an 
 error so gross, so ancient, and so in- 
 jurious to his Father. He came to 
 teach his people that, however satisfied 
 man may he with the performance of 
 mere exterior worship, God considers 
 the heart alone ; that every species of 
 homage in which the heart has no 
 share, is rather an insult* and a mock- 
 ery, than true worship ; that it is use- 
 less to purify the outside, if the inside 
 continue defiled with corruption ; 
 and that the only adoration which is 
 acceptable to him, is adoration in spirit 
 and truth. 
 
 J3ut, alas ! my brethren, is not this 
 gross error this error which was so 
 often the subject of our Saviour's re- 
 proaches against the synagogue, is it 
 not, I say, the error of the greater 
 number of Christians of the present 
 time ? In what does the chief part of 
 our religion consist? It consists, I am 
 afraid, in certain exterior observances
 
 1 1 8 Christmas Bay. 
 
 alone, in fulfilling certain public duties 
 prescribed by the laws of God and of 
 the Church : and, what is more, I 
 fear that the piety even of the more 
 regular members of the Christian body 
 extends no further. They assist at the 
 holy mysteries regularly ; they scruple 
 to transgress the laws of the Church: 
 they recite certain prayers to which 
 they are habituated; they celebrate 
 the solemn festivals by the frequenta- 
 tion of the sacraments ; and this is all. 
 They are not jnore detached than other 
 men from the world, and its criminal 
 pleasures ; they are not less attentive 
 to the vanities of dress, or to the ac- 
 quisition of wealth ; they are not more 
 disposed to break off a criminal en- 
 gagement, or to avoid the occasions 
 which have always proved fatal to their 
 innocence : they perform not even 
 these exterior duties of religion either 
 with a pure heart, a lively faith, or an 
 unfeigned charity ; all their passions
 
 Ch ristmas Day. 1 1 9 
 
 maintain their influence notwithstand- 
 ing these religious exercises, which 
 they are prompted to observe, proba- 
 bly, more out of respect to decency and 
 custom, than from a sense of the duty 
 which they owe to God. I will allow, 
 indeed, that they are actuated by a kind 
 of fear : for, if they lived, like the im- 
 pious, without attendance on any pub- 
 lic duties of religion, without any ex- 
 terior profession of worship, they 
 would consider themselves as accursed 
 in the sight of God, and worthy of the 
 sudden, and most dreadful judgments 
 of heaven. But how inconsistent is 
 the heart of man ! These very duties 
 they do not scruple to violate, and 
 render nugatory by their criminal ex- 
 cesses ; and without remorse, without 
 dread, or rather with the most pre- 
 suipptuous confidence, they dare to 
 frustrate the effect of these superficial 
 remnants of religion by a conduct 
 which religion condemns, and abhors :
 
 ] 20 Christmas Day. 
 
 they continue on in the commission of 
 crimes which will inevitably draw down 
 the wrath of God, and they appear not 
 to be conscious of their danger : they 
 are satisfied in mind with what they 
 do, and imagine that they give to God 
 what belongs to him, whereas their 
 only religion is, and has been all along, 
 mere external homage : a homage 
 which is entirely useless; a homage 
 which He looks down upon with abhor- 
 rence, and indignation. 
 
 Nevertheless, these, as I have al- 
 ready said, are the most upright, the 
 most regular, in the eyes of men, of all 
 who are designated under the class of 
 worldings. They have not shaken 
 off the yoke, like so many others ; 
 they blaspheme not what they do not 
 understand : they laugh not at the sa- 
 cred mvsteries of religion ; thev con- 
 
 v \j v 
 
 sider not the service of God, ,as be- 
 neath their attention ; but notwith- 
 standing all this may be said of them,
 
 Ch ristmas Day. 1 2 1 
 
 their attachment to religion is not 
 centered in the heart, it possesses no 
 influence over their conduct; they 
 dishonour the service of God by their 
 crimes: they are Christians only in 
 name. Thus, exterior pomp of wor- 
 ship exists amongst us, with a depra- 
 vation of morals more deeply rooted, 
 and more universal, than the prophets 
 even imputed to the obduracy and 
 hypocrisy of the Jews. Thus the re- 
 ligion, in which we glory, is no more 
 than a superficial mode of worship in 
 respect to the greater number of the 
 faithful. Thus the new covenant, 
 the law of spirit and life, which ought 
 to be written on our hearts, and which 
 ought to form adorers in spirit and 
 truth, produces mere phantoms, false 
 adorers, worshippers only in appear- 
 ance, a people like the Jews, who honour 
 him with their lips, but whose cor- 
 rupted hearts, defiled with numberless . 
 crimes, and bound down to the earth 
 VOL. i. G
 
 122 Christmas Day. 
 
 by the chains of lawless passions, are 
 always far removed from him. 
 
 In this second benefit, therefore, of 
 the birth of Jesus, the greater number 
 of Christians have no share. Jesus 
 abolishes the worship of the Jews be- 
 cause it was purely exterior, and con- 
 fined to the sacrifices of beasts, and to 
 legal observances. In the place of 
 these empty shadows he substituted a 
 law which the heart alone can fulfil : 
 he substituted a system of worship, 
 of which the love of his Father is the 
 first and principal act of homage. But 
 this sacred worship, this new com- 
 mandment of love, this holy deposit 
 which he has bequeathed to us, has de- 
 generated in our hands : we have de- 
 based it into a pharisaical worship, in 
 which the heart has no share, which 
 restrains not our irregular inclinations, 
 which has no influence over our morals, 
 and which makes us so much the more 
 criminal, as we abuse the gift which
 
 Christmas Day. 1 2 3 
 
 was intended to eradicate our vices 
 and purify our souls. 
 
 3. In the third place, the ignorance 
 and corruption of mankind had de- 
 prived the Almighty of the glory 
 which was due to his Providence, and 
 eternal wisdom. The philosophers of 
 old, who were necessitated by the voice 
 of reason to acknowledge the existence 
 of one only Supreme Being, represented 
 him either as a Deity wrapped up with- 
 in himself, and too great to condescend 
 to pay attention to the things of this 
 .earth, or as a God without liberty; 
 who, although he was the Lord over 
 mankind, was governed by the decrees 
 of what they called Fate, and on ac- 
 count of this subjection, could not 
 prevent any action of man, or any oc- 
 currence in the world ; all which they 
 supposed were predestinated so to be, 
 and must happen of necessity. Jesus 
 -came to restore to his Father the glory 
 which had been wrested from him by 
 G 2
 
 1 24 Christmas Day. 
 
 this pernicious error : he came to teach 
 mankind that faith is the source of 
 true wisdom, and that the sacrifice of 
 reason is the first step to Christian phi- 
 losophy : he came to remove every 
 doubt respecting the nature of the 
 Deity, and to teach us what was pro- 
 per to be known concerning him, and 
 what to remain unknown. 
 
 But, alas ! where are the believers 
 who make the entire sacrifice of their 
 reason to faith, and bow down their 
 heads in silent respect, and adoration, 
 before the majestic veil of religion? 
 I speak not of the impious who say, 
 There is no God : but I speak of the 
 greater number of the faithful, whose 
 .ideas of the Divinity are as false and 
 human, as those formerly entertained 
 by the pagan philosophers. This nu- 
 merous class of adorers of the true 
 God, consider not the occurrences of 
 life as ordained, or permitted by his 
 providence : they live as if either
 
 Christmas Day. 
 
 chance, or the caprice of men were the 
 causes of what happens on the earth ; 
 they seem to think that prosperity and 
 adversity are the two divinities which 
 govern, and preside over every thing 
 that passes in the world. - This is cer- 
 tainly the fact : for, if they looked up 
 to God as the great disposer of all hu- 
 man events, would they murmur and 
 complain, would they indulge impa- 
 tience and despondency, would they 
 entertain the spirit of envy and re- 
 venge, when any thing happens con- 
 trary to their inclinations, or interest ? 
 I speak, likewise, of those men who 
 imagine, that the mysterious ways of 
 God, in promoting our eternal welfare, 
 ought to be laid open to the under- 
 standing ; and finding that the powers 
 of reason are too weak to fathom the 
 secrets of his grace in operating the 
 salvation of his elect, will not exclaim 
 with the apostle : O the depth of the 
 wisdom, and knowledge of God, (Rom. 
 G3
 
 J 26 Christmas Day. 
 
 xi. 33.) but are tempted to believe 
 that, either God does not concern him- 
 self about our salvation, or that it is to 
 no purpose that we be concerned about 
 it ourselves. I speak of those men, 
 who delight in the giddy circles of 
 dissipation, who discover something 
 plausible, and convincing in the weak- 
 est, and most senseless arguments which 
 incredulity opposes to faith ; who seem 
 to wish that religion were false, and 
 who are less affected by the weight of 
 proofs, by which the swellings of our 
 Reason are repressed, and truth and im- 
 mortality brought to light, than by a 
 declamatory harangue, which proves 
 nothing except the boldness of impiety 
 
 and blasphemy. Finally, I speak of 
 
 many Christians who tacitly avow that 
 the belief of the wonderful prodigies, 
 which religion has recorded, is cal- 
 culated only for the ignorant and the 
 simple; and who seem to think that 
 the subversion of the order of nature.
 
 , Christmas Day. 1 27 
 
 by the miraculous interposition of pro- 
 vidence, is a work too great for the 
 Almighty to effect, except on the most 
 extraordinary occasions ; and who re- 
 fuse to acknowledge a continuation of 
 miracles in a church which was founded 
 on them, which glories in them as the 
 peculiar and distinctive mark of her 
 divine origin, and which is herself the 
 greatest miracle. 
 
 These unhappy men wrest from God 
 the glory which the birth of Jesus had 
 ensured to him. He taught us to cap- 
 tivate our reason to the belief of the 
 incomprehensible mystery of his mani- 
 festation in our flesh. He terminated 
 the wanderings of the human mind, 
 and withdrew it from the abyss of 
 error, into which it had fallen under 
 the guidance of human reason, and 
 brought it to the paths of truth and 
 life. We, nevertheless, refuse to sub- 
 mit to his authority, and even under 
 the empire of faith, we desire to follow 
 G 4
 
 128 Christmas Day. 
 
 as formerly the standard of weak rea- 
 
 I 
 
 son. Those mysteries of religion which 
 are above our comprehension, stagger 
 our belief: we wish to reform every 
 thing : we have doubts about every 
 tiling : we imagine that God thinks 
 like man. Without entirely renouncing 
 our faith, we destroy its influence. 
 Hence our morality is vitiated, our 
 vices are multiplied : the love of pre- 
 sent things is enkindled in our hearts; 
 the love of the good things to come is 
 utterly lost and extinguished. Hatred, 
 and dissensions are diffused every where 
 among the faithful, and the primitive 
 tracts of innocence, holiness, apd cha- 
 rity, which in the first ages made re- 
 ligion appear amiable in the eyes even 
 of those who refused to embrace it, 
 are in danger of being effaced for 
 ever from the minds of the greatest 
 part of men. Let not this be said of 
 all. 
 
 Let us, mv beloved brethren v enter
 
 Christmas Day. 129 
 
 into the spirit of this solemnity. May 
 Jesus be born again in our souls : may 
 he take possession of his rights over 
 us. We shall then, in union with his 
 faithful followers, give to God the 
 glory which in justice belongs to him ; 
 and he, in return, will admit us into a 
 partnership of his glory in the king- 
 dom of heaven. 
 
 G5
 
 130 
 
 SUNDAY WITHIN THE OCTAVE 
 OF CHRISTMAS. 
 
 ON THE BENEFITS CONFERRED ON 
 MAN BY THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 
 
 / bring you good tidings of great joy, 
 which shall be to all the people : for 
 this day is born to you a Saviour, who 
 is Christ the Lord, in the city of 
 David. .... Lukeii. 10, 11. 
 
 AGAIN, my beloved 
 friends, your attention is summoned to 
 the joyful tidings announced by the 
 angels. A Saviour is born to us, who 
 is Christ the Lord. His empire shall 
 be extended, and there shall be no end 
 of peace, Isa. ix. 7. By the comple- 
 tion of this wonderful mystery, the 
 seed of the woman has crushed the ser- 
 pent's head, (Gen. iii. 15.) ; the hand-
 
 Sunday within the Octave, 8$c. 1 3 1 
 
 writing, that was against us, is revers- 
 ed, (Col. ii. 14.) : the jaws of hell are 
 closed, and the gates of heaven are 
 thrown open to all who are seriously 
 disposed to enter. The times foretold 
 by the prophet are, in a spiritual sense, 
 arrived : The wolf dwelleth with the 
 lamb, (Isa. xi. 6.) ; the lawless pas- 
 sions of the mind are hushed, and the 
 spirit of meekness resides undisturbed 
 in the breast. The calf, the lion, and 
 the sheep live together, and a little child 
 leadeth them, (ibid.) Pride, ambi- 
 tion, and the lust of power, the 
 haughty tyrants of the soul, have re- 
 signed their place to the more humble 
 virtues of mildness and simplicity. 
 Or, in another sense, the lion, the great 
 and mighty ones of the earth, mix 
 confusedly with the calf and sheep 
 the ignorant and the simple, in the 
 fold of Christ ; and a little child the 
 humility and simplicity of the gospel, 
 is the indiscriminate guide of all. The 
 G 6
 
 Sunday within the Octave 
 
 bear feeds with the calf, and their young 
 ones lie down together ; they do not 
 hurt) neither do they kill in all my holy 
 mountain, (Isa. xi. 7, 9) : hatred, 
 animosity, and revenge are forgotten, 
 and the spirit of brotherly love, and 
 unlimited forgiveness of injuries, have 
 dispelled the tumults of the breast, and 
 diffused an universal peace. The lion 
 eats straw like the ox, (ib. 7.) : 
 the love of sensual pleasures is re- 
 nounced, and the evils which it en- 
 tailed on mankind are no more. The 
 sucking child plays on the hole of the 
 asp, (ib. 8.) : innocence of mind has 
 dispelled the terrors and alarms which 
 haunt the imagination of the guilty, 
 and the securest confidence and peace 
 direct all their steps. 
 
 These mystic times, my beloved, 
 are arrived. An universal peace is an- 
 nounced to us. But have we hitherto 
 enjoyed this peace ? It is, indeed, an- 
 nounced to all ; but it is enjoyed only
 
 of Christmas. 1 33 
 
 by men of good will. On this subject 
 I will enlarge in the present discourse ; 
 hoping that the description of the be- 
 nefits imparted by this happy peace 
 will stimulate your endeavours to banish 
 from your breasts the evils. which have 
 hitherto prevented your enjoyment 
 of it. 
 
 1. An universal peace reigned over 
 the universe when Jesus, the Prince of 
 Peace, (Isa. ix. 6.) appeared on the 
 earth. All the nations subjected to the 
 Roman empire peaceably endured the 
 yoke of those haughty conquerors of 
 the world. Rome herself, after the- 
 numberless dissensions which had de- 
 populated her streets, and inundated 
 Asia and Europe with the blood of her 
 citizens, rested from the horrors df 
 war, and, reduced under the authority 
 of a Caesar, found in her servitude that 
 peace, which she never enjoyed during 
 the days of her boasted liberty. 
 
 The universe was thus in a state of
 
 1 34 Sunday ^within the Octave 
 
 profound peace; but it -was not the 
 peace which was promised to men of 
 good will. Notwithstanding the din 
 of arms had ceased, mankind were ad- 
 dicted to the most violent and tor- 
 menting passions, and experienced 
 within themselves wars and dissensions 
 of the worst description. Ignorant of 
 their God, victims of the tumults and 
 divisions of their own breasts, assaulted 
 by the multiplicity and the incessant 
 contrariety of their disordered inclina- 
 tions, they were strangers to true 
 peace : and no wonder ; for they 
 sought after this peace in the very 
 source that gave rise to all their trou- 
 bles and disquietudes. 
 
 Our divine Redeemer descends on 
 the earth with full power to impart to 
 man that happy peace, which the world 
 could not give. He comes to apply 
 the proper remedy to the disorder. His 
 divine philosophy is not confined to 
 pompous precepts, which flatter the un-
 
 of Christmas. 135 
 
 derstanding without eradicating the 
 evil ; but as pride, self-love, hatred, 
 and revenge, were the sources from 
 whence proceeded the tumults of the 
 heart of man, he comes to hush them 
 into peace by his grace, his doctrine, 
 and his example. 
 
 Yes, my beloved, pride was the pri- 
 mary source of the evils which were 
 endured by the children of men. 
 What wars, what devastations had this 
 detestable passion occasioned in the 
 Avorld ! With what torrents of blood 
 had it deluged the universe ! What 
 was the history of all ages and states ? 
 What was the history of peoples and 
 nations, of princes and conquerors ? 
 What was it, but the history of the 
 direful calamities which pride had 
 poured forth on mankind ? The whole 
 world resembled a melancholy theatre, 
 on. which this restless and haughty 
 passion daily exhibited the most shock- 
 ing spectacles. The external effects,
 
 ] 36 Sunday within the Octave 
 
 however, of this vice were only a faint 
 resemblance of the agitations which 
 proud man experienced in his soul. 
 Ambition was exalted to the rank of 
 virtues ; and indifference about honours 
 and supereminence was treated as mean- 
 ness of soul. A single man spread ter- 
 ror and devastation over a whole king- 
 dom, overturned its laws and customs, 
 and buried thousands in the abyss of 
 poverty and distress, with no other 
 object in view, than the usurpation of 
 the first place among the people. The 
 success of his crimes excited admira- 
 tion and respect: and his name, 
 stained with the blood of his fellow 
 creatures, shone in the annals of 
 history with superior lustre. Thus 
 was a fortunate and bloody warrior 
 considered the greatest man of his 
 
 age. This passion in the hearts of 
 
 the multitude was equally furious and 
 restless, although attended with less 
 brilliant effects. The obscure man was
 
 of Christmas. 137 
 
 n ot more tranquil than the man of dig- 
 nity : each one contended for supe- 
 riority above his equals : each one at- 
 tempted to satisfy the desires of pride ; 
 and, as these were insatiable, each one 
 divested himself of the possibility of 
 enjoying either peace or tranquillity. 
 Thus was pride the source of honour 
 and human glory ; and thus, likewise, 
 was it the fatal destroyer of the repose 
 and happiness of mankind. 
 
 The birth of Christ exposes the fal- 
 lacy of this error, and restores to the 
 world the means of attaining true 
 
 peace. He could have manifested 
 
 himself to mankind decorated with all 
 the splendor of wealth and power : he 
 had a right to assume the pompous ti- 
 tles of Conqueror of Juda of Legisla- 
 tor of his people of Saviour of Is- 
 rael : Jerusalem would have acknow- 
 ledged him with those glorious dis- 
 tinctions. But Jerusalem had worldly 
 glory only in view; whereas Jesus
 
 138 Sunday within the Octave 
 
 came to teach her that such glory 
 was vain ; that worldly pomp 1 and gran- 
 deur were of no consideration in the 
 eyes of God, and, consequently, ought 
 to be of no consideration in the eyes of 
 men ; and that the oracles of the pro- 
 phets foretold the coming of a Saviour, 
 who was to redeem and sanctify the 
 world, not by riches, and honour, 
 and power, but by humility, ignominy, 
 and suffering. 
 
 He, therefore, was born in Bethle- 
 hem, in a state of poverty and abjec- 
 tion : He, whose birth was celebrated 
 by the canticles of all the heavenly 
 choirs, was born without any external 
 pomp: He, who was superior to prin- 
 cipalities and powers, was not decorat- 
 ed with any title that could distinguish 
 him in the eyes of men : He, whose 
 name was above all names, and who 
 alone had power to inscribe the names 
 of his elect in the great book of life, 
 permitted his own name to be enrolled
 
 of Ch ristmas. 1 39 
 
 amongst the most obscure of the sub- 
 jects of Caesar: to him, only shep- 
 herds simple and ignorant shepherds, 
 pay their homage, although every 
 thing that is in heaven, in hell, or on 
 earth, was dependant on him : in a 
 word, every thing that was calculated 
 to confound human pride was exhibit- 
 ed at his humble birth. Ah ! my 
 
 beloved, look at your Saviour : if ti- 
 tles, if rank, if prosperity and wealth, 
 were calculated to make you happy 
 here below, and give peace to your 
 souls, Jesus would certainly have pos- 
 sessed them, and imparted the valuable 
 gift to his favoured disciples. But he 
 informs us, by his example, that peace 
 can be obtained only by despising 
 them : he teaches us, that happiness 
 depends on repressing those desires, 
 which had hitherto been the only ob- 
 jects of our solicitude : he points out 
 to us blessings of a more durable and 
 substantial quality j blessings, which
 
 140 Sunday within the Octave 
 
 alone are capable of tranquillizing our 
 hearts, of satisfying our desires, of as- 
 suaging our pains ; blessings, which 
 man cannot take from us, and which 
 may be obtained by only loving and 
 desiring them. 
 
 And yet, where is the man that en- 
 joys this happy peace ? Wars, tumults, 
 and miseries, are as common now as at 
 any former period. Empires and states, 
 which- adore the God of peace, are not 
 more peaceable than the nations of 
 idolatry ! Where will you find that 
 peace among Christians which 'ought 
 to be their inheritance ? Will you find 
 it in cities ? No : pride reigns tri- 
 umphant there ; "every one is actuated 
 by pride ; every one attempts to be 
 greater than his forefathers ; every one 
 envies the good fortune of a neighbour 
 who attains honour or wealth. Will 
 you find it within the precincts of do- 
 mestic retreat ? Here you will discover 
 that every enjoyment is embittered by
 
 of Christmas. 141 
 
 solicitudes and cares : you will see the 
 father incessantly husied and troubled, 
 not so much about the Christian edu- 
 cation, as about the temporal advance- 
 ment of his children : these disquie- 
 tudes and anxieties will accompany 
 him to the grave, he will bequeath 
 them to his children as an inheritance, 
 and they in the same manner will 
 hereafter transmit them to their de- 
 scendants. Will you find it in the 
 palaces of kings ? Here, likewise, a 
 boundless ambition corrodes every 
 heart : here, under the specious ap- 
 pearances of festivity and joy, the most 
 violent and destructive passions are 
 matured : here, happiness seems to re- 
 side, but in reality, the victims which 
 pride consigns to wretchedness and 
 discontent, are more numerous than 
 elsewhere. Will you find it in the 
 humble cottage ? From hence, indeed, 
 many of the more violent passions are 
 removed, but peace is not admitted in
 
 Sunday within the Octave 
 
 their place : petty animosities, disap- 
 pointments, jealousies, the fear of com- 
 ing to want, and numberless other 
 evils, torment their souls : there is al- 
 ways some untoward accident, some 
 disagreeable behaviour, or unkind 
 treatment from a neighbour, that dis- 
 turbs their peace : and even where no 
 external evils exist, there is always 
 something wanting to complete their 
 comfort ; they are not satisfied with 
 exactly what they have, and conse- 
 quently, they enjoy not that peace 
 which our Saviour came to impart to 
 men of good will. O blessed peace of 
 my Jesus ! which surpasseth all under- 
 standing, and which art the only re- 
 medy for the innumerable evils occa- 
 sioned by pride, when wilt thou come, 
 and take full possession of our hearts ? 
 2- To the calamities I have already 
 described, were added others arising 
 from a different, though not less ma- 
 lignant source ; I mean, from the im*
 
 of Christmas. 143 
 
 pure desires of the flesh. Man had 
 forgotten the excellence of his nature, 
 and the sanctity of his origin, and had 
 given himself up, like the beasts, to 
 the impetuosity of that animal instinct. 
 He concluded that, as this was the 
 most violent and the most universal 
 passion of the human breast, it was on 
 that account the most innocent and 
 lawful. To give a still greater sanc- 
 tion to these lustful excesses, he made 
 them a part of his religion, and formed 
 to himself impure gods, in whose tem- 
 ples this impious vice became a part of 
 their religious worship. Even a phi- 
 losopher, who in other respects stands 
 in the first rank amongst the pagan 
 sages, fearing that marriage would put 
 a restraint on that abominable passion, 
 proposed the abolition of that sacred 
 union, in order to introduce a promis- 
 cuous intercourse between the sexes, as 
 it is with beasts, and to continue the 
 succession of the human race by crimi-
 
 ] 44 Sunday within the Octave 
 
 nal means alone. In proportion as 
 this habit of dissoluteness was the pre- 
 vailing distemper of the times, the ap- 
 pearance of its depravity seemed to be 
 lost in the general corruption. But, 
 my beloved friends, what a deluge of 
 evils has it spread over the world ! 
 With what fury have we seen nations 
 lighting against nations, kings against 
 kings, brothers against brothers, 
 spreading carnage and devastation on 
 every side ! These, in all probability, 
 were for the most part judgments of 
 God, which the multiplied commission 
 of this vice drew down on the heads of 
 the guilty.- In the individual this 
 vice became an inexhaustible source of 
 troubles and remorse. It flattered the 
 soul with the assurance of pleasure, and 
 of cairn, undisturbed enjoyment ; but 
 jealousy, suspicion, rage, excess, satiety, 
 inconstancy, and melancholy, attend- 
 ed its footsteps. So apparent, indeed, 
 were these effects, that, although laws,
 
 of Ch ristmas. 1 45 
 
 religion^ and universal example autho- 
 rized it, the love alone of internal peace 
 inspired a few prudent men, even in the 
 ages of darkness and corruption, to fly 
 from it with abhorrence. 
 
 This motive, however, was too weak 
 to stem the general torrent, and ex- 
 tinguish in the hearts of men the im- 
 petuous violence of this passion* A 
 more powerful remedy was necessary : 
 and this remedy was the birth of a Sa- 
 viour, whose ministry would withdraw 
 mankind from the deep abyss of cor- 
 ruption, would exalt to honour the 
 heavenly virtues of purity and chas- 
 tity, would disengage the unhappy 
 victims of this vice from their disgrace- 
 ful bonds, and would open the gates of 
 peace, by restoring to them the liberty 
 and innocence, of which they had been 
 deprived by their multiplied and abo- 
 minable excesses. Jesus was born 
 of a virgin, the most pure of all crea- 
 tures. This circumstance alone was a 
 
 VOL. i. H
 
 146 Sunday within the Octave 
 
 distinguishing encomium on a virtue, 
 to which the world had hitherto been 
 strangers, a virtue, which was deem- 
 ed a reproach even by his own people. 
 But in addition to this, by taking 
 upon himself our nature, he has incor- 
 porated himself, as it were, with us : 
 we are become the members of his 
 mystical body, and we are destined to 
 sit with him on the right hand of the 
 living }od, and to glorify him for all 
 eternity. 
 
 Exalted, then, dear Christians, is the 
 degree of honour to which our flesh is 
 raised by this mystery. It is made 
 the temple of God, the sanctuary of 
 the Holy Spirit, the portion of a body, 
 in which the plenitude of the divinity 
 resides ; the object of the complacen- 
 cy and love of the Father. What a 
 dignity ! What an honour ! But do 
 we not still continue to defile this tem- 
 ple? Do we not enslave to iniquity 
 these members of Jesus Christ ? Do we
 
 of Christinas. 147 
 
 respect our flesh the more, because it is 
 made a sacred portion of the mystical 
 body of our Lord ? Ah ! this detest- 
 able passion exercises the same tyranny 
 over Christians, who are the children 
 of liberty, light, and holiness, as it 
 formerly exercised over the children of 
 darkness. The havoc it makes in all 
 ranks and conditions is too well known 
 to require description. It is the most 
 universal passion, the most favoured 
 passion. The loss of health, of peace, 
 of content, of happiness, are insuffi- 
 cient motives to arrest its progress. 
 The justice of God, this goodness and 
 love of God, the hopes of heaven, the 
 remorse of conscience, the fears of'hell, 
 are considerations too weak to resist its 
 attacks. Oh! if you are solicitous 
 to enjoy that peace which our Saviour 
 purchased on this day for -mankind, 
 banish the impure spirit from your 
 hearts ; follow the paths of innocence, 
 and you will experience a tranquillity
 
 148 Sunday within the Octave 
 
 and happiness, which is unknown to 
 the children of lust. 
 
 3. Lastly, the birth of Jesus recon- 
 ciles the world to his Father ; it unites 
 together the Jew and the Gentile; it 
 abolishes the odious distinction of 
 Greek and Barbarian ; it extinguishes 
 hatreds and enmities; of. all nations, 
 it makes but one people ; of all disci- 
 ples, but one heart and one soul. 
 
 Formerly, mankind were united toge- 
 ther by no common band of amity and 
 union. The diversity of religions, of 
 manners, of country, of language, and 
 interest, had, in some degree, diversi- 
 fied in them the same common nature. 
 They exterminated each other like wild 
 beasts ; they placed their glory in 
 slaughtering their fellow creatures, and 
 carrying their bleeding heads in tri- 
 umph, as trophies of their victory. It 
 seemed as if they had received their ex- 
 istence from distinctandirreconcileable 
 creators, who placed them here below
 
 of Christmas. 149 
 
 for no other purpose than to espouse 
 their quarrel, and terminate the con- 
 test by the total extinction of one of 
 the parties. 
 
 Jesus, therefore, is come to be our 
 peace, our reconciliation, the corner 
 stone, to support and compact the 
 whole edifice ; the living head, to di- 
 rect all the members, and form all man- 
 kind into one body. Every thing 
 tends to unite us to him, and every 
 thing that unites us to him, unites and 
 reconciles us to each other. We are all 
 animated by the same spirit, the same 
 hope is our common consolation, and we 
 partake of the same divine food. We 
 are enclosed in the same sheepfold, and 
 are led to pasture by the same shep- 
 herd. We are children of, the same 
 father, heirs of the same promise, citi- 
 zens of the same eternal city, and 
 members of the same body. 
 
 These are sacred bonds indeed. But, 
 my beloved, have they hitherto been 
 H3
 
 150 Sunday within flte Qctcroe 
 
 sufficient to unite us together in peace r 
 Far otherwise : Christianity, which 
 ought to unite all hearts, which ought 
 to he the connecting link of the faith- 
 ful among themselves, and of Jesus 
 with them Christianity, which ought 
 to reflect the image of the pface which 
 reigns above Christianity itself is a 
 scene of carnage and devastation. 
 Whilst the idolater and the pagan are 
 reposing under their fig-trees in the 
 arms of peace, the inheritors of the pro- 
 mises, the children of peace, are advanc- 
 ing against each other with fire and 
 sword. Ambition stimulates the rulers 
 to begin the contest; and a false glory 
 inspires the combatants to drench their 
 swords in the blood of their fellow 
 Christians. 
 
 - This is not all: even within, the 
 precincts of towns and families, 'the 
 hearts and affections of men are as lit- 
 tle united, as between kingdoms. 
 Animosities are perpetuated between fa-
 
 of Christmas. 151 
 
 milies ; dissensions are fostered in ci- 
 ties ; injuries and affronts are every 
 where revenged ; reconciliations and 
 sincere forgiveness are extraordinary 
 events ; detraction, back-biting, and 
 slander, infect every company, and 
 enter into every conversation ; self- 
 interest is the motive of every action ; 
 and the humiliations and sufferings of 
 a neighbour are matters of indifference, 
 provided they do not operate as obsta- 
 cles to our own advancement. This 
 is the unhappy state of the Christian 
 world. Thus, my friends, you see that 
 Jesus has descended on earth in vain. 
 He came to bring us peace : he be- 
 queathed it to us for our inheritance: 
 his favourite injunction was mutual 
 forgiveness and love. But, alas ! peace 
 and union, and brotherly love, are 
 banished from amongst us. Reli- 
 gion, which endows an enemy with 
 "the endearing qualities of a bro- 
 ther, is no longer attended to : the 
 H4
 
 152 Sunday within the Octave 
 
 menace of experiencing from the hand 
 of God the same seventy with which 
 we treat our offending brethren, has no 
 effect on our minds ; and in defiance 
 of every consideration, hatred and dis- 
 likes retain possession of our hearts. We 
 live on in this state without fear or ap- 
 prehension : the imaginary justice of 
 our cause calms our conscience, and 
 shuts our eyes to the injustice and cri- 
 minality of our hatred and aversion : 
 and if, at the point of death, we form 
 a reconciliation, or publicly declare 
 before our surrounding attendants 
 that we forgive them, the motive 
 that actuates us is, not that we love 
 them as we love ourselves, but either 
 that the power of perpetuating our ha- 
 tred is about to be taken from us, or 
 that we shudder at the idea of appear- 
 ing before the tribunal of God with a 
 conscience avowedly defiled with gall 
 and bitterness. 
 
 Let us, my dearly beloved, throw
 
 of Christmas. 153 
 
 ourselves into the arms of our infant 
 Jesus : let us enter into the spirit of 
 this mystery : let us give to God the 
 glory which belongs to him. This is 
 the only means of regaining the peace, 
 of which our passions have deprived us, 
 and of acquiring a title to the peace 
 which is prepared for us in the world to 
 come.
 
 154 
 
 THE CIRCUMCISION: 
 
 ON THE DIVINITY OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 His name was called Jesus, which was 
 called by the angel. . . . Luke ii. 21. 
 
 H.OW is reason asto- 
 nished and confounded at the sight of 
 a God assuming the form of a creature ! 
 and into what a labyrinth of errors 
 would it not have precipitated itself, 
 had not the light of faith disclosed the 
 depth of the divine Wisdom, which is 
 concealed under the supposed folly of a 
 God-man ! It may, perhaps, be 
 deemed superfluous to enter on this 
 subject before a Christian auditory.
 
 Circumcision. 159 
 
 are ready to acknowledge that he was a 
 holy and just man :, and, although 
 there have been sqine of late years who 
 have blasphemed againfet his innocence, 
 and have dared to rank him amongst 
 seducers, their names are held in ab- 
 horrence, and their memory is deserv- 
 ing of the detestation of all who have 
 evei\ confessed the name of Christ. 
 
 In effect, what man ever, appeared on 
 earth decorated with such indubitable 
 marks of innocence and sanctity ? In 
 v/hat philosopher was ever discovered 
 such a love for virtue, such a sincere 
 contempt of the world, such charity 
 for mankind, such an indifference to 
 human glory, such interest for the 
 glory of the Supreme Being, such an 
 elevation above all that the world ad- 
 mires and seeks after? How ardent was 
 his zeal for the salvation of men ! To 
 this object were referred his discourses, 
 his cares, his desires, his solicitudes. 
 The wise men of old exercised their ge-
 
 160 Circumcision. 
 
 nius; and acquired a reputation by ex- 
 posing the weakness and follies of their 
 fellow creatures : Jesus speaks of their 
 vices only for the purpose of prescrib- 
 ing remedies. The philosophers took 
 occasion of pride, from discovering 
 vices in others from which they them- 
 selves were not exempt: Jesus, with a 
 heart melting with compassion, points 
 out faults in others, of which he him- 
 self was innocent ; and sheds tears over 
 the immoralities of a faithless and un- 
 grateful city. The object of the phi- 
 
 t losophers was not so much the reforma- 
 tion of the morals of men, as the desire 
 
 1 of acquiring a great name by the supe- 
 riority of their talents and wisdom: 
 Jesus seeks only to save lost man, and, 
 in the pursuit of this object, is as in- 
 sensible to the calumnies and persecu- 
 tions of his enemies, as he is to the ap- 
 plause and commendation of his ad- 
 mirers. 
 Enter into the whole detail of his
 
 Circumcision . 
 
 moral conduct, and tell me whether 
 there ever appeared on earth a just 
 man more universally exempt from 
 weaknesses the most inseparable from 
 human nature ? The more you scruti- 
 nize, the more incontrovertible will his 
 sanctity appear. The disciples, who 
 were the most intimately acquainted 
 with his conduct, were the most asto- 
 nished at the innocence of his life : and 
 familiarity, which discovers faults in 
 the most heroic virtue, contributed 
 only to the more perfect knowledge of 
 his perfections. On all occasions he 
 speaks the language of heaven; and all 
 his replies are calculated to promote the 
 salvation of those who question him. 
 Never does he exhibit symptoms of 
 mental weakness : he always appears in 
 the quality of Ambassador of the Most 
 High. In him, the most common ac- 
 tions are rendered extraordinary by 
 the novelty and sublimity of the dis- 
 positions with which he performed
 
 1 62 Circumcision. 
 
 them. He appears not less divine 
 when he eats with a Pharisee, than 
 
 when he raises Lazarus to life. 
 
 Truly, my brethren, mere human na- 
 ture is not susceptible of such subli- 
 mity ; nor can it so perfectly divest it- 
 self of the weakness to which it is con- 
 stitutionally liable. He does not daz- 
 zle the understanding by the display of 
 eloquence and sophistry, like the philo- 
 sophers : but, like a truly just man, he 
 draws the rules and , precepts of his 
 doctrine from his own conduct. What 
 greater proofs of his sanctity could be 
 given, than that the traitor himself, 
 whose interest it was to exculpate him- 
 self by exposing his master's defects, 
 should give public testimony in his fa- 
 vour ; and that the malice of his most 
 declared enemies should not be able to 
 accuse him of any crime ? John viii. 46. 
 Jesus Christ, therefore, being holy, 
 he must consequently be God : other- 
 wise, the doctrine- which he taught,
 
 Circumcision. 1 63 
 
 as well respecting his Father, as re- 
 specting the duties of man, would be 
 no more than equivocations, calculated 
 to lead mankind into the grossest er- 
 rors. 
 
 . 2. Now, what was his doctrine re- 
 specting the Father ? Moses and the 
 prophets incessantly proclaimed that 
 the Lord was the One Great All ; that 
 it was an impiety to debase him by a 
 comparison with any of his creatures ; 
 and that they themselves were his ser- 
 vants and envoys, humble instru- 
 ments in the performance of the won- 
 ders which he wrought by their minis- 
 try. Not a doubtful expression escap- 
 ed them respecting this most essential 
 point of their mission : no comparison 
 between themselves and the Supreme 
 Being : no equivocal term, which 
 could give rise to superstition and ido- 
 latry, by inducing the people to believe 
 they were equal to the God in whose 
 name they spoke.
 
 l64f Circumcision. 
 
 If Jesus Christ were like them, a 
 messenger sent from God, and nothing 
 more, it was certainly incumbent on 
 him to fulfil his ministry with equal 
 fidelity. But what is his language ? 
 he proclaims himself equal to the Fa- 
 ther, (Matt. xi. 2?. ) : he says, that he 
 is descended from heaven, (Johnvi.Sl.y, 
 that he proceeds from the bosom of 
 God, (John xvi. 28.) ; that eternal life 
 depends on knowing the Son, as well as 
 on knowing the Father, (John xvii. 3.) ; 
 that he was before Abraham, (John viii. 
 58.) ; that he was before all things, 
 (John xvii. 5.) ; that he and the Fa- 
 ther are one, (John x. 30. ) ; and that 
 whatever is done by the Father, is done 
 
 by the Son likewise, (Johnv. 19.) 
 
 What prophet, except Christ, ever held 
 such extraordinary language ? Who, 
 except Jesus, ever attributed to his 
 own strength the great wonders which 
 the Lord wrought by his ministry ? 
 Hpw consoling is it, my beloved, to
 
 Circumcision. 165 
 
 behold the certitude on which our faith 
 is founded! Jesus on all occasions 
 places himself on a level with the Deity. 
 Once, indeed, he says, that the Father 
 is greater than him : but what would 
 this mean, were he not himself a God 
 incarnate ? What man of sense would 
 dare to insult our understanding, by 
 seriously asserting that the Supreme 
 Being was greater than he ? Are we not 
 all sensible that there is no proportion 
 between God and man? between the 
 great ALL, and created nothing ? Je- 
 sus, however, does not content himself 
 with asserting that he is equal to 
 God, but he justifies the novelty of his 
 expressions, in opposition to the mur- 
 murs of the Jews, who were scandaliz- 
 ed : and so far from undeceiving, he 
 confirms them in their scandal : - he 
 every where speaks a. language, which 
 would be either senseless or impious, if 
 his divinity were not admitted to ex- 
 plain and justify it. My friends,
 
 f 
 
 166 Circucmision. 
 
 would the pious, the meek r the humble 
 Jesus have acted thus, if he were not 
 God ? Paul and Barnabas rent their 
 garments when they were taken for 
 Gods: they proclaimed aloud before 
 the people, who were preparing to offer 
 sacrifices to them, that they \\ere no- 
 thing more than mortal men ; and that 
 God alone ought to be adored, of whom 
 they were only the envoys and mi- 
 nisters, (Acts xiv. 14.) The angel in 
 the Apocalypse rejected the adoration 
 of St. John with horror,and. with a loud 
 voice commanded him tto adore God 
 alone, (Apoc. xix. 10.) But Jesus 
 Christ unresistingly permits divine ho- 
 nours to be paid to him : he applauds 
 the faith of his disciples, when they 
 adore, and eall him with St. Thomas, 
 My Lord, and my God, (John xx 28.)' 
 he even confounds his enemies, when 
 they dispute his divhiity, and deny his 
 eternal origin, (Joknvui.) And can 
 at be supposed that Jesus was less zeal-
 
 Circumcision. .. 16*7 
 
 ous for the glory of Him that sent him, 
 than his disciples were ? Or was it less 
 incumbent on him than on them, 
 plainly to undeceive the people of a 
 mistake so injurious to the Supreme 
 Being, and by which the whole fruit of 
 his ministry M^ould be destroyed ? 
 
 Ah ! what benefit has Jesus conferred 
 on the world, if he be not God? Has 
 he not plunged mankind deeper into 
 the abyss of idolatry r For by whom is 
 he not adored as the eternal Son of the 
 Father, the image of his. substance, and 
 the splendor of his glory ? A small num- 
 ber only of men have existed amongst 
 Christians, who received him merely as 
 the envoy of God, and refused him 
 divine honours. This impious sect, 
 which has acquired the name of Unita- 
 rian, consists only of a few obscure 
 disciples, whose doctrine is held in 
 detestation, and. rejected and anathe- 
 matized by the whole Christian world. 
 Recal to mind the great promises
 
 168 Circumcision . 
 
 which were so pompously announced to 
 mankind, and tell me whether the small, 
 the obscure society of Unitarians, can 
 be that great people of every tongue, of 
 every tribe, and of every nation, of 
 which the Church of Jesus was to be 
 formed ? Where would then be that 
 superabundance of grace, that pleni- 
 tude of the Holy Spirit, which was to 
 be spread over all flesh ? Where would 
 be that universal renovation, which the 
 prophets foretold with such solemnity, 
 and which was to accompany the birth 
 of the great Deliverer? Are the great 
 advantages, which the world was to 
 acquire by the ministry of Jesus, con- 
 fined within such contracted limits ? 
 Did the oracles of the prophets con- 
 cerning the future magnificence of the 
 gospel, mean nothing more than the 
 formation of the sect of an impious So- 
 cinus ? 
 
 My God ! how wise, how reasonable 
 does the faith of thy Church appear,
 
 Circumcision. 1 69 
 
 when put in opposition to the sense- 
 less contradictions of incredulity ! How 
 consoling is it to believe and hope in 
 Jesus, when we bebold the abyss which 
 pride opens for itself, by preaching 
 new doctrines, and sapping the foun- 
 dation of the faith and hope of Chris- 
 tians ! 
 
 Thus, dear brethren, you see that 
 the doctrine of Jesus in respect to the 
 Father proves the reality of his eternal 
 origin. When the prophets spoke of 
 the great God of heaven and earth, 
 they could not find words to express 
 the grandeur and magnificence of their 
 ideas. Lost in the contemplation of the 
 immensity, the omnipotence, and the 
 majesty of the Supreme Being, they 
 exhausted the weakness of human lan- 
 guage in describing the sublimity of 
 their conceptions. This God, they 
 said, is he who measures the wa- 
 ters of the ocean in the hollow 
 of his hand ; who weighs the moun- 
 
 VOL, i. I
 
 1 70 Circumcision. 
 
 tains in his balance, (Isa. xl. 12.) ; 
 who speaks the word, and it is done, 
 (Ps. xxxii. 9.) Thus they spoke; and 
 it was fit that mortal man should speak 
 of the eternal God in this manner. 
 But when Jesus speaks of the glory of 
 the Lord, he adopts not the pompous 
 descriptions of the prophets : on the 
 contrary, the most tender, the most 
 simple expressions are his choice. He 
 calls him a holy Father a just and 
 clement Father a shepherd seeking 
 the lost sheep, and placing it on his 
 shoulders to carry it back to the fold, 
 (Luke xv. 4, 5.) a father of a family, 
 moved to compassion by the return 
 and repentance of his prodigal child, 
 (Luke xv.) This is the language of a 
 Son. The freedom and simplicity of 
 his expressions manifestly prove that 
 he is acquainted with the secrets of 
 heaven, and that the majesty and glory 
 of the Divinity are familiar to him. 
 This affectionate language of Jesus
 
 Circumcision. 171 
 
 implies a severe condemnation of the 
 sentiments of the greater number of 
 Christians. We know that we are now 
 no longer servants, but brethren, and 
 coheirs with Jesus Christ ; that we have 
 acquired the right of calling God our 
 Father, and ourselves his children. 
 From this knowledge we learn that love, 
 not fear, is to regulate our obedience. 
 But, my beloved, in what manner do 
 we avail ourselves of this glorious 
 privilege ? By what are we influenced ? 
 Ah ! too true it is, that we serve him 
 more like hirelings and slaves, than 
 like children. We obey him, not be- 
 cause we are affected by his promises 
 and love, but because we dread his 
 judgments. His law, so holy and just, 
 appears not amiable in our eyes : on 
 the contrary, like a yoke it weighs 
 heavy on our shoulders ; it excites our 
 complaints ; and, if no punishment 
 awaited our transgressions) we should 
 soon shake it off, and rejoice at our 
 12
 
 1 72 Circumcision. 
 
 happy deliverance. We murmur inces- 
 santly against the severity of his pre- 
 cepts; and we employ every argument 
 in order to justify the relaxations which 
 the world has introduced. Thus, we 
 may conclude that, if he were not an 
 avenging God, we should renounce 
 our allegiance to him, and that the lit- 
 tle homage and respect we pay him, is 
 extorted by the terrors of his justice 
 and indignation. 
 
 3. We will now proceed to the proofs 
 of his divinity which arededucible from 
 his doctrine and instructions. It is 
 not my intention to enlarge on the wis- 
 dom, the sanctity, the sublimity of 
 this doctrine : I will only remark that, 
 the whole does honour to reason, and 
 to the soundest philosophy : that the 
 whole is proportioned to the weakness, 
 and to the excellency of man ; to his 
 wants, and to his high destiny : that the 
 whole inspires a contempt for perish- 
 able things, and a love of the good
 
 Circumcision.. \ 75 
 
 things of eternity : that the whole is 
 calculated to maintain order and tran- 
 quillity in the world : that the whole is 
 grand, because the whole is true. The 
 wise man of the gospel is excited to the 
 performance of good actions, by the 
 only satisfaction of obeying God, who 
 will be his reward exceeding great; and 
 he is taught to prefer the testimony of 
 a good conscience before the applauses 
 of men : he is superior to the whole 
 world by the liveliness of his faith ; and 
 he is inferior to the last of men in his 
 modest opinion of himself. Glory in his 
 eyes is fallacious ; prosperity is replete 
 with dangers ; afflictions are blessings ; 
 the earth is a place of banishment ; 
 and all that passes with time is no 
 more than a dream. What man, before 
 Christ, ever delivered such doctrine ? 
 And if his disciples, who only an- 
 nounced his precepts, were taken for 
 gods descended on earth, (Acts xiv, 
 13
 
 1?4 Circumcision. 
 
 10.) what ought to be our opinion of 
 Him who was the author of them ? 
 
 But we will pass over these general 
 reflections, and proceed to the more 
 precise testimonies of love and depend- 
 ance, which he requires should be paid 
 to him, as well as to the Father. 
 He commands us to love him in the 
 same manner as he loved the Father, 
 (John xv. 10.) to refer all our ac- 
 tions, our thoughts, our desires, and 
 even our whole selves to his glory, in 
 the same manner as to the Father, 
 (Matt. x. et alibi.} ; he even declares 
 that sins are remitted only in propor- 
 tion as we love him, (Luke vii. 47-) 
 What prophet, before Christ, ever said 
 to mankind : You shall love me in the 
 same degree as you love the Father ; 
 every thing that you do, you shall do 
 fqr my glory ? 
 
 But this is not all that he requires. 
 Tt is his command, not only that we
 
 Circumcision. 1 75 
 
 \ 
 
 love him, but that we give testimonies 
 of the most generous, the most heroic 
 love ; that we love him more than we 
 love our relations, our friends, our 
 goods, our life, more than the whole 
 world, more even than we love our 
 own souls, (Luke xiv. 26.) He de- 
 clares that the Christian who is not so 
 disposed, is not worthy of him ; and 
 that he who places him on a level with 
 creatures, or even with himself, disho- 
 nours and injures him, and shall never 
 partake of his promises. 
 
 My friends, who but a God could 
 impose such commands ? Life is the 
 gift of the Most High ; and who, but 
 the Most High, can exact the sacrifice 
 of it? Jesus, however, commands us to 
 suffer tortures and death for his name, 
 and with the authority of a God, de- 
 clares, that if we renounce him before 
 men, although it be to avoid the great- 
 est evils, he will renounce us before his 
 Father, (Matt. x. 33.) Ah ! if the 
 14
 
 1 76 Circumcision*. 
 
 hand of God were not with him, if he 
 were not the Word made flesh, can it 
 he supposed that people could have ex- 
 isted on earth so devoid of every na- 
 tural feeling, so deaf to the tender 
 calls of self-preservation, as to run 
 with extasies of delight into the very 
 jaws of destruction in support of such 
 a doctrine ? Can it be supposed that 
 innumerable multitudes of every age, 
 condition, and sex, would have fore- 
 gone the sweetest pleasures of human 
 nature, and have lingered out a miser- 
 able existence in caverns, in naked- 
 ness, and in want,, in hourly expecta- 
 tion of being dragged to the torture, 
 and to martyrdom,, rather than re- 
 nounce their belief in the divinity of 
 Jesus the Son of God ? Can it be sup- 
 posed that such a doctrine, had it been 
 erroneous, could have triumphed over 
 the universe, confounded all sects, 
 united all hearts, and have been ac- 
 knowledged by the wisest men to be
 
 Circumcision, 1 77 
 
 superior to all science, wisdom, and 
 doctrine that ever appeared on earth ? 
 No : the ear of rational man cannot 
 listen to such suppositions ; it turns 
 from them with abhorrence. 
 
 How consoling, my beloved, is it to 
 see the veil of the sanctuary withdrawn, 
 and to behold the stability of the foun- 
 dation on which our faith and hope are 
 founded ! 
 
 One reflection shall conclude this 
 discourse. Since we confess that Jesus 
 is the Christ, the Son of God, it is our 
 indispensable duty to follow his doc- 
 trine. This doctrine requires that we 
 sacrifice to him our will, our friends, 
 our relations, our property, our lives, 
 and every other thing that impedes our 
 progress in the paths of salvation. Faith 
 teaches us that he will make us ample 
 amends for all that we relinquish for 
 his sake ; or rather, that he will give 
 us himself, the greatest of all treasures 
 the most exquisite of all rewards. 
 15
 
 78 Circumcisiow. 
 
 Let us, therefore, confess Christ, by- 
 acknowledging that he is greater than 
 the world, that he is more able to make 
 us happy, and consequently, more wor- 
 thy of being loved : let us confess him 
 in this manner both in word and deed, 
 and then we may rest assured that he 
 will confess us before .his Father, and 
 unite us to the happy society of his 
 elect in the kingdom of heaven.
 
 T79 
 
 SUNDAY BEFORE THE 
 EPIPHANY. 
 
 ON THE DIVINITY OF CHRIST. 
 
 His name was called Jesus, which was 
 called by the angel. . Luke ii. 21. 
 
 1 HIS, my beloved, 
 is the sacred name given to the great 
 Messiah the Saviour of the human 
 race : this is the name, which God 
 himself hath cnosen for his only Son : 
 this is the name, at the sound of which 
 every knee shall bend, of those that 
 are in heaven, on earth, and in hell, 
 (Phil, ii.10.) This sacred name you 
 all revere ; and from your infancy you 
 have confessed that Jesus Christ is in;
 
 180 Sunday before 
 
 the glory of God the Father, (Phil. 
 ii. 11.) Jesus the Son of God, has al- 
 ways been the object of your adora- 
 tion, the Author and Finisher of your 
 faith, (Heb. xii. 2.) and the comple- 
 tion of your hope even to the end, (Heb. 
 vi. 11.) In him have been centered all 
 your desires, all your expectations. 
 From him you have sought consola- 
 tion in distress, refreshment in labour, 
 patience in sufferings, and joy in 
 afflictions. From his bountiful hand 
 you acknowledge that you have re- 
 ceived all the blessings and comforts of 
 your life : and that your crosses and 
 adversities have proceeded from no 
 other source than his merciful justice. 
 Your morning sighs have been all waft- 
 ed before his throne ; and your evening 
 lamentations have been poured forth at 
 the foot of his cross. His sacred 
 wounds have preserved you from the 
 horrors of despair ; and his austere 
 doctrine and example have repressed
 
 the Epiphany. 1 8 1 
 
 in your bosom the pleasing, but delu- 
 sive dreams of presumption. In him, 
 and for him, you have lived, and 
 moved, and in his embraces, and 
 through his merits you continue to look 
 forward with joyful hope to a blissful 
 immortality. In a, word,, you. have 
 always considered Jesus as truly Ged, 
 the second Person of the Blessed 
 Trinity, made man for your redemp- 
 tion. These are your grounded senti- 
 ments. This has always been your 
 creed^ 
 
 If, therefore, I pursue the subject 
 of my last discourse, let it not be sup- 
 posed that I am actuated by the sense- 
 less desire of convincing you of a 
 truth, of which I acknowledge you 
 are already convinced ; or that I un- 
 dertake to resolve doubts, which I 
 know have never existed in your 
 minds : no ; the real motive, which 
 induces me to lay before you the argu- 
 ments in proof of the divinity of Jesus
 
 182 Sunday before 
 
 is no other than the desire of consoling 
 your faith, of displaying before your 
 eyes the great blessings, which are en- 
 sured to you by the incarnation of a 
 God, and of arming you against the 
 insidious and sophistical arguments of 
 modern infidelity. 
 
 In my discourse on the late festi- 
 val, I deduced my proofs from the 
 doctrine of Jesus ; I will now apply to 
 another source, namely, the benefits, 
 which Jesus conferred on mankind by 
 his personal ministry on earth, and the 
 magnificent promises, which he held out, 
 of still greater blessings after his. ascen- 
 sion into heaven. 
 
 1. The benefits which Jesus was ap- 
 pointed to impart to the world form 
 one of the most incontrovertible proofs 
 of his divinity. He was sent to deliver 
 men from eternal death : he was sent 
 to blot out the hand- writing that was 
 against them, to reverse the sentence 
 of malediction, and to make them ckil-
 
 the Epiphany. 18$ 
 
 dren of God : he was sent to open for 
 them the gates of heaven, and to admit 
 them into a partnership of glory with 
 the angels in the bosom of the divinity. 
 These ineffable gifts he was to dispense 
 not to one generation only, but to 
 every succeeding generation to the end 
 of the world* We, as well as our fore- 
 fathers, are to find in him the remedy 
 for all our evils : his sacred body is to 
 be our food, and the application of his 
 precious blood is to wash away all our 
 defilements, and to restore peace and 
 innocence to our souls. It is he who 
 continues to appoint and consecrate 
 pastors for our guidance in the paths 
 of virtue : it is he who inspires teachers, 
 by whose ministry we are instructed 
 in the secrets of salvation : it is he who 
 raises up, from time to time, living 
 models of perfection, whose example is 
 intended to animate us to fight with 
 determined resolution against our spi- 
 ritual enemies. He is always present
 
 184f Sunday before 
 
 with us (Matt, xxviii. 20.) for dur 
 comfort and support in this place 
 of banishment : he is our way, our 
 truth, and our life, (John xiv. 6.) : 
 he is our justification, our redemp- 
 tion, and our light, (John viii. 12.) 
 This is the doctrine of the scripture 
 respecting the Messiah. Now, my 
 beloved brethren, would it have been 
 consistent with the wisdom of God to 
 have conferred such, power, such au- 
 thority on any being that was merely 
 human ? Would his jealousy have per- 
 mitted that a mortal man should be 
 the author and the source of so many 
 gifts and graces, and that he should 
 assume a character of such indepen- 
 dence, and self-existence ? Would not 
 his omniscience have foreseen that the 
 great Messiah, so far from effecting the 
 redemption of the world 1 , would plunge 
 it deeper into the horrors of idolatry, 
 and shut up every remaining avenue 
 to the light of heaven ? Yes, my be
 
 the Epiphany. 1 85 
 
 loved : God foresaw all this ; he knew 
 that man would prostrate himself, and 
 pay divine honours to the author of 
 such inestimable blessings ; he, there- 
 fore, sent his only Word, the second 
 Person of the adorable Trinity. 
 
 There are many, I presume, of my 
 present hearers, who have but an im- 
 perfect idea of the nature, and the ex- 
 tent of paganism. For their instruc- 
 tion, therefore, it will not be foreign 
 to my subject to state, that, before the 
 coming of Christ, the greater part of 
 mankind were ignorant of the true 
 God. The voice of nature loudly 
 proclaimed to all, that there existed a 
 Supreme Being : but what this Supreme 
 Being was, human nature, unassisted 
 by revelation, could not discover. The 
 secrets of heaven were involved in im- 
 penetrable darkness, and man was left 
 to follow the dictates of his own mind. 
 He knew that he himself was dependent, 
 and that submission was due to him on,
 
 ] 86 Sunday before 
 
 whom he depended. From this great 
 Being he knew must be derived what- 
 ever might befal him ultimately of 
 good or evil, and he rightly supposed 
 that gratitude for the past was the only 
 way of ensuring the continuance of a 
 favourable interposition in future, 
 and of averting the calamities, which 
 he imagined would otherwise be his un- 
 happy portion. When, therefore, he 
 perceived that any visible thing, whe- 
 ther inanimate, animate, or human, was 
 the channel, through which great 
 blessings were conveyed to him, he 
 concluded that the Deity assumed that 
 shape in order to communicate his 
 gifts : hence, by a natural transition, 
 he represented and adored him under 
 that shape. It was this that induced 
 some nations to adore the sun; others, 
 the moon and stars ; others, the earth 
 from which they received their nourish- 
 ment; others, the cow, the ass, the 
 dog. Others supposed that great and
 
 the Epiphany. 1 87 
 
 good princes, and the inventors of use-? 
 ful arts were gods, and for this reason 
 adored Jupiter, Hercules, Cybele, Vul- 
 can, Mars, Mercury, &c. In a word, 
 during those dark times of ignorance 
 and blindness, man seemed to sigh 
 after the knowledge of the true God ; 
 and, even while the Author of his 
 existence was unknown to him, he did 
 not forget the sentiments of gratitude 
 and dependance which the voice of na- 
 ture suggested towards him. Thus, 
 we see that the origin of the false 
 gods of idolatry was gratitude on the 
 part of man ; and that his ignorance 
 of the true and living God was the 
 only reason why he did not worship 
 him. 
 
 From this short account, my argu- 
 ment to you is simply as follows. No 
 man ever conferred such inestimable 
 blessings on mankind as Jesus. He has 
 purchased for us an eternal peace : he has 
 imparted to us happiness, justice, and
 
 j 88 Sunday before 
 
 truth : he has renewed the face of the 
 whole earth : his favours are not confin- 
 ed to one people, or to one generation, 
 they are extended to every nation, and 
 to every age; and, what is more, these 
 inestimable blessings he purchased for 
 us at no less a price than that of his 
 precious blood. If, therefore, grati- 
 tude exalted the mere instruments of 
 the mercies of God to the rank of 
 divinities, surely no one was more 
 entitled to that distinction than Jesus. 
 Ah ! my beloved, if Jesus be no more 
 than man, could God have seriously in- 
 tended to redeem the world, at the 
 ti*ne that he exposed it to the most 
 imminent danger of idolatry ? 
 
 If, indeed, Jesus had admonished his 
 disciples before his death that they 
 were indebted to the Great God aions 
 for so many benefits ; that he himself 
 was not the author and source, but 
 only the minister employed for the 
 distribution of these graces ; that no.
 
 the Epiphany. \ 89 
 
 extraordinary honours were clue to him, 
 but that the glory, and honour, and 
 gratitude were due to God alone ; then, 
 I allow, there would have been no 
 danger of our falling into error. But 
 Christ does not terminate his prodigies, 
 and ministry by any such admonitions. 
 On the contrary, he not only com- 
 mands his disciples to remember him, 
 and even place their hopes in him after 
 his decease; but at the moment that 
 he is about to take his final leave, he 
 declares that he will be present with 
 them all days, even to the consumma- 
 tion of the world, (Matt, xxviii. 20.) : 
 he promises them greater blessings 
 than any he had hitherto imparted, 
 and unites them to him still more 
 strongly by indissoluble, and eternal 
 bands. 
 
 2. Reflect an instant, my beloved, 
 on the wonderful promises, which he 
 made to his disciples, and you will see 
 that they portend greater blessings
 
 190 Sunday before 
 
 than any that he had imparted to them 
 during his mortal existence. 
 
 In the first place, he promises that 
 he will send to them the Paraclete, the 
 Comforter, whom he calls the Spirit of 
 the Father, and the Spirit of truth, 
 which the world cannot receive, (John 
 xiv.) ; the Spirit of fortitude, which 
 would animate his followers to suffer 
 martyrdom for his sake ; the Spirit of 
 understanding, which had enlightened 
 the prophets ; the Spirit of wisdom, 
 which would lead his church into all 
 truth ; the Spirit of peace, and 
 charity, which would unite all hearts, 
 and establish the bands of fraternal 
 love between all the faithful. What a 
 promise was this ! Could man pretend 
 to dispose of the Spirit of God, unless 
 he himself likewise 'were God, and the 
 Spirit were his Spirit ? The promise, 
 hoM^ever, is immediately fulfilled. No 
 sooner is Jesus ascended into heaven, 
 than the Spirit of God descends on his
 
 the Epiphany. ]t)i 
 
 disciples. Simple, and ignorant men 
 in an instant acquire a wisdom, that is 
 superior to the wisdom of the wisest 
 of men : the weak display a courage 
 that is proof against all the tortures of 
 the most cruel tyrants. New men, 
 animated with a new spirit, appear on 
 the earth : they draw all people after 
 them : they change the face of the 
 whole universe. 
 
 In the second place, Jesus promises 
 to his disciples the power of remitting 
 sins; of opening the gates of heaven 
 to the just man, and of shutting them 
 against the sinner. Surely, my bre- 
 thren, this is the work of Omnipotence 
 itself. Who but God can forgive sins? 
 And who but God, can give power to 
 weak man to exert sirch authority ? 
 But this is not all. He promises to his 
 disciples the gift of miracles, the power 
 of raising the dead to life, of giving 
 sight to the blind, health to the sick, 
 speech to the dumb, and of exercising
 
 Sunday before 
 
 an unlimited command over nature. 
 This promise, likwise, is immediately 
 fulfilled. The disciples wrought every 
 wonder which he had enumerated ; and 
 they wrought them, not in the name of 
 the Father, but in the name of Jesus 
 who was crucified. 
 
 To all these promises, he adds ano- 
 ther of still greater magnitude. He 
 assures them that the conversion of 
 the world, and the complete triumph 
 of the cross shall be effected by their 
 preaching : he declares that, at his 
 name the knee shall bend of all that are 
 great, or proudly eminent on earth ; 
 and that his gospel shall be received by 
 the whole universe. Pause awhile, my 
 brethren, and consider the extent of 
 this promise. Who but a God can exer- 
 cise dominion over the hearts of all 
 mankind, and foretel that an universal 
 change of sentiment would take place 
 a change, of which no example had 
 ever before been known r The un- 
 believer perhaps may say, that this
 
 the Epiphany. 193 
 
 great event was revealed to him by God, 
 after the same manner as future events 
 were revealed to the prophets. But no : 
 for, if he is no God, he certainly is no 
 prophet: The truth of his predictions 
 rests entirely on the truth of his di- 
 vinity. He foretold, that all people 
 sitting in the shades of -death would 
 open their eyes to the light: this pre- 
 diction is false, if he be not God ; for 
 the people from the beginning made him 
 the object of their adoration, and thus 
 fell into a more criminal darkness. He 
 foretold that his Father would be glo- 
 rified, and that his gospel would form a 
 society, of believers out of every na- 
 tion, and tongue, who would adore 
 him in spirit and truth : this predic-. 
 tion likewise is false; for the whole 
 Christian world have dishonoured the 
 Father by prostituting their adoration 
 to the prophet, and will continue to dis- 
 honour him even to the end. He 
 foretold that the idols would be thrown 
 VOL. i. K
 
 194 Sunday before 
 
 down : and ought be not to have fore- 
 seen that he himself would be exalted in 
 their stead ? He foretold that he would 
 form a holy people out of every tribe 
 and nation under the sun : but if he 
 were a prophet, and nothing more than 
 a prophet, ought he not to have fore- 
 seen that, by his coming, he would 
 only form a new sect of idolaters ? 
 Ought he not to have foreseen, that the 
 innumerable multitudes in every age, 
 who would be converted by the preach- 
 ing, and miracles of his disciples, 
 would place him on the throne of the 
 living God ; would refer all their 
 actions, and their homages to him; 
 would have his glory continually in 
 view; would wish to live only in him, 
 and for him ; would depend on him 
 alone, would look up to him for power, 
 strength, and motion; in a word, 
 "would adore and love him more spi- 
 ritually, more universally, and more in- 
 timately, than the pagans ever adored,
 
 the Epiphany* 195 
 
 and loved their idols ? Ah ! my be- 
 loved, if Jesus be not God, he is not 
 even a prophet : and if he be no pro- 
 phet, he is deserving of all the oppro- 
 brious epithets, which have been la- 
 vished on him by the worst of those, 
 who are, or who ever were in the list of 
 his opponents. 
 
 These are the extremes to which in- 
 credulity leads its unhappy votaries. If 
 you destroy the foundation, or re- 
 move the corner-stone, which is Jesus 
 Christ the eternal Son of the living 
 God, the whole edifice falls to the 
 ground. If- you reject the doctrine of 
 a God made man, you deprive faith 
 of its merit, hope of its consolation, 
 and charity of its motives. The first 
 disciples clearly foresaw all these dismal 
 consequences : and therefore they ex- 
 erted every power of eloquence against 
 the impious wretches who dared to call 
 in question the divinity of their master. 
 They knew that the doctrine of an 
 K2
 
 Sunday before 
 
 Ebion, and Cerinthus, tended to de- 
 stroy the very spirit of their religion, 
 to deprive them of their only consola- 
 tion under persecutions, and sufferings, 
 to do away their assurance of a future 
 recompense, and in the end to reduce 
 their exalted pretensions to a mere no- 
 thing. They knew that, if this grand ar- 
 ticle of their belief, namely, the divi- 
 nity of Jesus, were rejected, their religion' 
 would be vain, and that it would be no 
 more than a human doctrine, the work 
 of a man, who, like other founders of 
 sects, would have left no other inheri- 
 tance to his disciples than the honour 
 of being distinguished by his name. 
 
 So great was their zeal in defence of 
 this doctrine, that the pagans them- 
 selves made it the subject of their re- 
 proaches. Pliny, a Roman proconsul, 
 and a celebrated winter, (Plin. Ep, i. 1.) 
 in an account which he transmitted to 
 the Emperor Trajan concerning the 
 morals and doctrine of Christians,
 
 the Epiphany. 197 
 
 readily allows that they were just, in- 
 nocent, and upright men ; that they 
 assembled together before sun rise, not 
 to form plans of depredation, or of 
 civil commotion, but for the purpose 
 of living piously and justly, of excit- 
 ing each other to mutual detestation 
 of frauds, adulteries, and desires of 
 other men's goods. The only pre- 
 tended fault of which he accuses them 
 is, that they sung hymns and canticles 
 in honour of Jesus Christ, and paid to 
 him the same homage as to God him- 
 self. If the first Christians had not 
 given divine honour to Jesus Christ, 
 they would undoubtedly have refuted 
 this calumny : they would have re- 
 moved from their religion every ap- 
 pearance of the kind : they would have 
 discontinued a practice which they 
 knew to be the greatest if not the 
 only circumstance, that could operate 
 as a scandal to the Jews, and a stumb- 
 ling block to the Gentiles : they would 
 K 3
 
 198 Sunday before 
 
 have proclaimed aloud : " We do not 
 adore Jesus Christ ; far be it from us 
 to give to creatures the honour which 
 is due to God alone." But they were 
 silent : they did not attempt to excul- 
 pate themselves. Their apologists re- 
 futed every other calumny, which the 
 pagans had thrown upon their doctrine: 
 they justified themselves on every other 
 point: they explained, they refuted 
 the most trivial accusations; and by 
 their public addresses delivered to the 
 Senate imposed silence on all their 
 other enemies. But they say nothing' 
 respecting their idolatry towards the 
 person of Christ : they are not moved 
 by the reproach of adoring a crucified 
 man a reproach, which must have 
 been most severely felt by men, who. 
 were so holy, such declared enemies 
 to idolatry, and so jealous of the glory 
 of God. They not only do not vindi- 
 cate themselves, but they justify the 
 accusation by their silence : but why do.
 
 the Epiphany. 199 
 
 I say, by their silence ? They publicly 
 declare their belief by the most un- 
 equivocal testimonies : they suffer for 
 his name : they die for his name : they 
 confess him before tyrants and perse- 
 cutors : they expire with joy on racks 
 and gibbets, in the consoling expecta- 
 tion of being hereafter united to him, 
 and of receiving from him a life of 
 greater glory and happiness, than the 
 one which they sacrificed for his name. 
 When these truly virtuous men were 
 required to bend their knees before the 
 statues of Caesar, when even, out of a 
 mistaken compassion, their friends pro- 
 posed to give false testimony before 
 the magistrates, asserting that they had 
 offered sacrifice to idols, they declared 
 that they were ready to suffer every spe- 
 cies of torture and death, rather than 
 commit or mislead the people into a 
 supposition that they had committed 
 such a crime. And shall it be believed 
 K4
 
 200 Sunday before 
 
 that flqen like these would have suffered 
 themselves to be accused of paying 
 divine honours to Jesus; without en- 
 deavouring to refute the calumny ? 
 Let the enemies of our religion fancy 
 what they will, not a corner of the uni- 
 verse, I am very sure, but would have 
 resounded with their protests, and pro- 
 testations against the infamy of so de- 
 testable a charge. No torment can be 
 thought of, no sort of death, in any of 
 its most formidable shapes, and fright- 
 ful appearances, can be imagined, to 
 which they would not most willingly 
 have exposed themselves, rather than 
 give occasion to so odious, so execra- 
 ble a suspicion. What car incredulity 
 oppose to this ? Yes, my beloved, it is 
 an .incontrovertible truth, that the be- 
 lief in the divinity of Jesus began with 
 the Church, that it raised the whole 
 edifice of Christianity, that it formed 
 the whole host of martyrs, and that it 
 renewed the face of the universe.
 
 the Epiphany. 20 1 
 
 Now that I have displayed the proofs 
 of this great principle of our religion 
 before youreyes, Iwillconcludewith this 
 only reflection. Jesus Christ being the 
 grand object of the piety of Christians, 
 it is the indispensable duty of everyone 
 of you to be familiar with his doctrine, 
 and obedient to his precepts. YOU. 
 ought to meditate frequently and at- 
 tentively on his holy law, to have re- 
 course to him in ail your necessities, 
 to nourish your souls with his holy 
 sacraments, and to place your whole 
 reliance on the merits of his death, and 
 passion. This is clean religion : this 
 is knowing Jesus : this is simple and 
 sincere piety : nothing is firm and solid 
 but what is built on this foundation. 
 Reflect, therefore, dear Christians, that 
 the principle homage which Jesus re- 
 quires of you is, that you be like unto 
 him, and that his life be the model of 
 yours : and be assured that, if you 
 K5
 
 202 Sunday before the Epiphany. 
 
 be thus conformable to his likeness in 
 this life, you will be of the number of 
 those who are to be partakers of his 
 glory in the next.
 
 03 
 
 THE EPIPHANY. 
 
 We, have seen his star in the East, and 
 are come to adore him. Matt. ii. 2. 
 
 T*HE light of divine 
 truth, which was prefigured by the 
 illustrious appearance of the star of 
 Jacob, is alone worthy of the attention 
 and solicitude of man. By its beams 
 our souls are enlightened, the source 
 of true pleasure is laid open to view, 
 the solid basis, on which alone we can 
 found our hopes, is disclosed, and the 
 only lasting remedy for all our evils is 
 revealed. This heavenly truth alone 
 is the consolation of the innocent, and 
 the reprover of the guilty : this alone 
 immortalizes those who love it; en- 
 K6
 
 204 Epiphany. 
 
 nobles the chains of those who suffer 
 for it ; and gives respectability to the 
 abjection 'and poverty of those who 
 leave all to follow it : this alone gives 
 birth to noble sentiments, inspires 
 true heroism, and forms characters of 
 which the world is not worthy. 
 . With what solicitude, therefore, 
 ought we to labour for the acquisition 
 of such a treasure : with what resolu- 
 tion and zeal ought we to manifest it 
 to others ; and with what vigilance and 
 circumspection ought we to guard it 
 when possessed ! 
 
 It is astonishing, however, to ob- 
 serve the different impressions which 
 are caused by the manifestation of this 
 heavenly light on the minds of men. 
 To some it is a light which enlightens, 
 and makes the duties which it manifests 
 agreeable and easy. To others, it is 
 an unwelcome light, and by its appear- 
 ance creates uneasiness and sorrow. To 
 others, it is like a thick cloud, which
 
 Epiphany. 205 
 
 only excites their indignation, and 
 completes their blindness. 
 
 These various effects are exemplified 
 in the gospel of this festival. In the 
 three kings, we behold men, who open 
 their hearts to receive the light' of 
 truth with sincerity and readiness : in 
 the priests, men who either shut their 
 eyes, or pretend that they do not see 
 it; and in Herod, a dreadful example 
 of obduracy and wickedness. 
 
 The same effects are daily witnessed 
 among Christians at the present time. 
 Some few receive it with joy, like the 
 wise men ; others conceal it through 
 worldly motives ; and others perse- 
 cute it, by their scandalous lives and 
 irregular discourses. I will call your 
 attention to these three descriptions' of 
 people in this discourse ; and from 
 their conduct I will draw a faithful 
 sketch of the duties and obligations 
 which the manifestation of the truth 
 evidently points out to all Christians
 
 Epiphany. 
 
 as essentially connected with their fu- 
 ture happiness. 
 
 1 . The light of truth is manifested to 
 all, even to the most profligate livers ; 
 and points out in the clearest manner 
 the way in which we should walk in 
 order to fulfil the will of God. How- 
 ever deeply some men may be en- 
 gulphed in the abyss of sensuality and 
 vice, their eyes are sometimes opened 
 to the vanity of their pursuits, to the 
 splendid hopes which they renounce,, 
 and to the dreadful state which awaits 
 them in the world to come. But the 
 only effect which these rays of light 
 produce in men of this description, is 
 an increase of guilt; for, instead of 
 availing themselves of the proffered 
 blessing, they shut their eyes again, 
 and basely continue on in the career of 
 vice. 
 
 In the wise men we behold examples 
 of a ready correspondence with the 
 calls and inspirations of heaven;, il-
 
 Epiphany. 207 
 
 Tustrious examples indeed, and worthy 
 to be proposed to the imitation of all 
 Christians. Living r as they did, at an 
 immense distance from the chosen peo- 
 ple of God, they probably had no other 
 knowledge of a Redeemer to come r 
 than what was derived from the pro- 
 phecy of Balaam, or from the commu- 
 nications which their forefathers re- 
 ceived from the Israelites* during their 
 captivity in the East. These traditions, 
 however, may be supposed to have 
 made little impression on the minds of 
 men, who, by their public profession of 
 wisdom, were habituated to despise 
 popular and vague opinions, and to- 
 attribute them to the credulity of the 
 ignorant. But, no sooner did the star 
 of Jacob appear; no sooner did the 
 secret inspirations of the Holy Spirit 
 inform them that it denoted the birth 
 of the Great Leader, than they be- 
 lieved, and prepared to set out without 
 delay to pay their homage to him.
 
 203 Epiphany. 
 
 They examine not whether the appari- 
 tion could be aecounted for in a na- 
 tural way. No time was lost in solv- 
 ing difficulties : none in defence of so 
 extraordinary a project : they listened 
 not to the scoffs and derisions which, 
 a measure so unprecedented may rea- 
 sonably be supposed to have drawn 
 upon them : what might be said, or 
 thought of them by others, was not 
 an object for them to look to : they 
 loved the truth : they saw the light 
 that would conduct them to it ; and 
 heedless of every, difficulty that at- 
 tended them in the outset ; and re- 
 gardless of the perils that might await 
 them in the many unknown regions 
 through which they might have to 
 pass, like men whose wisdom and for- 
 titude was superior to every encounter, 
 they rejoiced at the sight of the happy 
 omen, and immediately followed it. 
 
 Were mankind as ready in these 
 times to open their eyes to the light of
 
 Epiphany. 20$ 
 
 the heavenly star, which now shines 
 with meridian splendor over the whole 
 universe, how different would be the 
 state of Christianity ! But, alas ! there 
 are multitudes of Christians I say it 
 to our shame there are multitudes of 
 Christians who live in a state of un- 
 certainty, or rather, are addicted to 
 passions which impel them to call in 
 question the truths which condemn 
 their disorders : and this, for no other 
 purpose than to silence the voice of 
 conscience, which incessantly reproves 
 them for their folly and inconsistency. 
 Sometimes they assume an air of can- 
 dour, and with a seeming eagerness 
 submit their doubts to the examina- 
 tion of the learned. But their candour 
 is counterfeit : they converse on the 
 subject, not with the desire of being 
 "convinced of the truth, fur of that 
 they are already convinced, but in 
 hopes of destroying that conviction by 
 their sophistry. I acknowledge, in-
 
 210 Epiphany. 
 
 deed, that real doubts on points both 
 of morality ana 1 faith may sometimes 
 exist in the understanding ; for illu- 
 sion will frequently put on so plausible 
 an appearance, that no little strength 
 of discernment is required to discover 
 the deception. Upon those occasions 
 it is the duty of every one to seek ad- 
 vice from those who are established to 
 discern between the spirit of truth and 
 the spirit of error. But then, we must 
 make our enquiries like the wise men : 
 we must be simple and undisguised ; 
 we must desire to be enlightened, and 
 not flattered ; we must seek the truth 
 sincerely, before we shall find it. 
 
 But unhappily, this method of en- 
 quiry is very uncommon amongst 
 Christians : and even amongst those 
 who have renounced the dissipations of 
 a worldly life, there are not a few to be 
 found, who, I will say, are frequently 
 strangers to it. There is generally 
 some favourite attachment, some im-
 
 Epiphany. 211 
 
 perfection, which keeps possession of 
 the heart, and which we refuse to relin- 
 quish. ..This we describe to our direc- 
 tor in such plausible terms, that it is 
 manifest we seek not the truth sincere- 
 ly, and that we should be sorry to find 
 it. Hence originate those habitual 
 imperfections in virtuous men, which 
 excite the derision of worldlings, and 
 occasion reproaches and censures to be 
 thrown on piety itself. 
 
 Ah ! beloved Christians, if we loved 
 the truth, our first solicitude would be 
 to discover every weakness and imper- 
 fection which are contradictory to its 
 maxims ; we should love, we should re- 
 verence the man who pointed out our 
 defects, and sought to heal the wounds 
 which rankled in ourhearts. David paid 
 the highest honours to the prophet Na- 
 than, because he reproved him for his~ 
 crimes ; and treated him during the 
 remainder of his life as his father and 
 deliverer* The same should be ouc
 
 212 Epiphany* 
 
 conduct. But, alas ! the man of God, 
 who dares to reprove us, immediately 
 forfeits our esteem. As long as he was 
 silent in our regard, he was treat- 
 ed as an enlightened, prudent, charita- 
 ble man ; as a friend in every respect 
 worthy of our confidence and esteem : 
 like the precursor of our Lord in his 
 remonstrances with the king of Gali- 
 lee, he was listened to with pleasure as 
 long as he did not interfere with our 
 favourite passions ; but no sooner does 
 he say : This is not lawful for you, 
 than all his former perfections vanish 
 instantly from our sight, and nothing 
 is any longer what it was before : his 
 zeal is now enthusiasm ; his charity, 
 ostentation, or a vain complacency in 
 Censuring and opposing others ; his 
 piety, imprudence, or a cloak with 
 which he conceals his pride; his ideas 
 of truth, mere visionary forms, which 
 he 'has mistaken fof realities. Thus, 
 it too. frequently happens, that, al-
 
 Epiphany. 213 
 
 though we are interiorly convinced of 
 the imperfect state of our souls, we 
 cannot endure that others should re- 
 flect upon it. Like Saul, we require 
 that Samuel should approve in public, 
 what we ourselves condemn in private ; 
 and, by a corruption of heart, which is 
 perhaps more criminal than the weak- 
 nesses themselves, we extinguish in the 
 minds of others that light of truth, 
 which we cannot extinguish in our 
 own. How few are actuated by the 
 same uprightness and. sincerity as the 
 wise men ! 
 
 Again, the light of truth is often- 
 times manifested to us without effect, 
 because we are influenced by the im- 
 pression which it makes on others. We 
 see no reason why we should act dif- 
 ferently from other men ; why we 
 should pursue the light of the divine 
 star with more eager steps than those 
 around us. Sometimes, indeed, the 
 clear light which it throws over our
 
 Epiphany. 
 
 past irregularities fills us with dismay : 
 we condemn ourselves; we tremble 
 at the idea of futurity ; we propose a 
 change of life. But, no sooner is our 
 attention engaged by the general ex- 
 ample before us, than we resist the 
 heavenly monitor, and ask with some 
 surprise, whether heaven is to be pur- 
 chased at a dearer rate by us, than it is 
 by other people. We will not believe 
 that the Christian is bound to shut his 
 eyes to the corrupted ways of the 
 world, and open them only to the du- 
 ties and obligations of his calling. We 
 will not believe that we shall inevitably 
 lose our souls, if we live like the gene- 
 rality of men ; that is, if we are con- 
 formed to the world, and are distin- 
 guished in nothing from the world : 
 and the reason is,, because we will not 
 believe that the world is already judg- 
 ed, and that it is the great Antichrist 
 which shall perish together with its 
 head and members* Ah ! how many
 
 Epiphany. 215 
 
 timid Christians are there, who dare 
 not declare for heaven, because their 
 change would be condemned by pub- 
 lic example ! How many, like Aaron 
 in the desert, dance round the golden 
 calf, and offer incense to an idol which 
 they detest, merely because they have 
 not courage to stand alone in the de- 
 fence of truth ! Senseless as we are ! we 
 look up to men, as if men were the 
 truth, and as if we were to seek on 
 earth, and not in heaven, like the wise 
 men, the rule and light which ought to 
 be our guide. 
 
 Small, indeed, is the number of 
 those who, having discovered the truth, 
 keep their attention permanently fixed 
 upon it, and are dead to the world, to 
 its empty pleasures, and to its vain 
 pomps. Small, indeed, is the number 
 of those, who find no delight but in 
 the truth, and who make it their con- 
 solation in affliction, the end and re- 
 compense of all their labours, and
 
 2 1 6. Epiphany. 
 
 their principal and only solid enjoy- 
 ment in this place of . exile. Ho\v 
 truly vain, puerile, and disgusting is 
 the world, with all its momentary plea- 
 sures, to the man who is enamoured of 
 the truth of the eternal promises ; who 
 is convinced, that all that is not God, 
 is not worthy of him ; and that the 
 earth is tire land of consolation to 
 those only, who will perish everlast- 
 ingly. Nothing can delight such a 
 man, but the prospect of immortal 
 good : nothing can fix his attention, 
 but what will last for ever: nothing 
 can engage his affections, but what he 
 can enjoy eternally. 
 
 2. It is the duty, therefore, of every 
 Christian to open his eyes to the light 
 of truth with sincerity, submission, and 
 joy. But this is not all : after we are 
 enlightened, we are bound to diffuse 
 the light abroad for the benefit of our 
 fellow-creatures. And so obligatory 
 is this duty, that, if our neighbour be
 
 Epiphany. 217 
 
 confirmed in his bad habits either by 
 our silence, or by our mean adulations, 
 we become partakers of his sins, and 
 shall be responsible for them before 
 the tribunal of the Great Judge. An 
 instance of such criminal behaviour is 
 recorded for our instruction in this 
 day's gospel. The priests and doctors 
 were fully acquainted with the circum- 
 stances foretold by the prophets con- 
 cerning the Messiah : and therefore, 
 Avhen consulted by Herod, they were 
 bound to return an answer expressive 
 of the whole truth. But what was 
 their reply ? They simply point out the 
 place assigned for his birth, and con- 
 ceal every other circumstance. They 
 neither proclaim the happy tidings to 
 the people, nor invite them by their 
 own example to pay their homage to 
 the new-born King. Restrained by 
 their criminal timidity, they detain the 
 truth of God in injustice, to their own 
 condemnation. 
 
 VOL. i. L
 
 2 1 8 Epiphany. 
 
 The obligation of publishing the 
 truth is imposed on all Christians* But, 
 alas ! by whom is it fulfilled? We 
 imagine that no defence is required 
 from us, when the children of error 
 espouse the cause of the world in our 
 presence ; when they justify its max- 
 ims and abuses : when they arraign the 
 severity of -the gospel precepts ; blas- 
 pheme what they do not understand ; 
 and assume the office , of judges over 
 that law, by which they themselves will 
 hereafter be judged. But I here so- 
 lemnly declare, that to be silent on 
 those occasions, is to take part with 
 the enemies of truth. For, to what 
 purpose has God enlightened us ? Was 
 it exclusively for our own individual 
 salvation? Far from it: his views were 
 of much wider extent. He enlighten- 
 ed us, in order that our words and ex- 
 ample should correct, or at least, re- 
 prove the irregularities of our relations, 
 friends, masters, servants, and neigh-
 
 Epiphany. 219 
 
 bours. The blessings which he has 
 bestowed on us, were intended to re- 
 dound to the benefit of the country to 
 which we belong, and to the age in 
 which we live. He never raises up a 
 vessel of election, without having in 
 view the salvation or condemnation of 
 many. He made us lights, for the ex- 
 press purpose that we should shine in 
 the midst of the surrounding darkness ; 
 that we should perpetuate the know- 
 ledge of his truths among mankind, 
 and give testimony to the wisdom and 
 justice of his law, in opposition to the 
 prejudices and vain thoughts of a pro- 
 fane world. 
 
 I acknowledge, indeed, that there is a 
 time for silence, as well as a time for 
 speaking, and that there are limits, be- 
 yond which the efforts of zeal would 
 be imprudence. But I am shocked at 
 the idea, that men who know and serve 
 God, should be afraid of espousing the 
 cause of truth, when they hear the 
 L2
 
 220 Epiphany. 
 
 maxims of religion vilified, the good 
 name of their neighbours injured, and 
 the most criminal abuses of the world 
 maintained and justified. I am shock- 
 ed at the idea, that the world should 
 have its declared partisans, and that no 
 one should dare to proclaim himself 
 the partisan of Jesus. Ah ! the truly 
 just man is far exalted above every 
 worldly consideration : his eye is fixed 
 on heaven alone : the approbation of 
 God is his only ambition : he fears no- 
 thing but remorse of conscience: he 
 has respect for nothing but justice and 
 truth : he was placed on earth in order 
 to give testimony to the truth, and to 
 that he will give testimony in the face 
 of the whole, world. The presence 
 alone of the truly just man is capable 
 of imposing silence on the most embit 
 tered enemies of piety : his venerable 
 appearance compels them to respect the 
 broad seal of truth, which is stamped 
 on his forehead ; to stand in awe of
 
 Epiphany. 221 
 
 his dignified intrepidity; and to pay ho- 
 mage, at least by their silence and confu- 
 sion, to that virtue which they refuse to 
 follow. The Israelites, awed and con- 
 found in this manner in the midst of their 
 profane dances and rejoicings round 
 the golden calf, instantly ceased at the 
 appearance of Moses descending from 
 the mountain, armed only with the 
 terrors of the law of the Lord, and of 
 his eternal truths. Take courage, then, 
 my beloved ; espouse boldly the cause of 
 God, and surfer no species of irreligion 
 to reign triumphant in your presence. 
 
 3. It was my design to call your at- 
 tention to the conduct of the impious 
 Herod after the departure of the wise 
 men, and to prove to you at large that 
 the same spirit of persecution, with 
 which he was actuated on that occasion, 
 is entertained by an infinite number 
 'of Christians at the present time; 
 but on this head I shall make only one 
 reflection. 
 
 L3
 
 5222 Epiphany. 
 
 The spirit of persecution, to which I 
 allude, is not of persecution by the 
 sword, for that spirit is unknown 
 amongst Christian brethren, but of per- 
 secutions by scandal ; and of this kind 
 the persecutions are widely extended, 
 and destructive indeed. It is not im- 
 probable but that you yourselves may 
 come under this class of persecutors, 
 although you have not thrown off the 
 reins of morality, nor given yourselves 
 up to a reprobate sense. The scandal 
 which is given by the declared advo 
 cate of vice, is undoubtedly great; 
 but the scandal which is given by the 
 imperfect follower of the gospel, is fre- 
 quently more pernicious in its effects. 
 If, therefore, you fulfil your duties 
 with exterior marks of tepidity, if 
 you attempt to associate the wofkl with 
 Jesus Christ, if you pretend to a life 
 of piety, and at the same time follow 
 the maxims of worldlings, you are per- 
 secutors of the truth : because, by your
 
 Epiphany. 23 
 
 example, you confirm the calumnies 
 which are invented against the truly 
 virtuous, and cause piety itself to be 
 blasphemed by sinners ; you throw a 
 shade over the beauties of truth ; 
 you make it appear disgusting to those 
 who are disposed to embrace it ; and 
 you encourage the impenitence of those 
 who are ready to seize the first pretext 
 for deferring their conversion. In this 
 nation, particularly, surrounded as you 
 are by men who are separated from the 
 church and temple of the Lord, you 
 cause the words of the prophet Jeremy 
 to be again accomplished : the un- 
 faithful Israel hath justified her soul in 
 comparison of the treacherous Juda> 
 Jer. iii. 1 1. The unfaithful Israel, 
 that is, your unbelieving neighbours, 
 beholding in you, the inheritors of 
 his promises, the same thirst after gold, 
 the same love of the world* the same 
 vanities and follies as in themselves, 
 turn away from your religion, and con-- 
 L4
 
 224- Epiphany. 
 
 elude that it signifies not which, or 
 what mode of faith they outwardly pro- 
 fess, since the moral conduct of all is 
 the same. 
 
 Let me, therefore, my dearly belov- 
 ed brethren, exhort you, with the apos- 
 tle, so to regulate your deportment in 
 the eyes of men, that, instead of 
 ranking you. among the workers of 
 evil, they may be edified by the dis- 
 play of your good works, and open 
 their hearts to the inspirations of God, 
 when in his mercy he shall visit them 
 with his graces. Impose silence on the 
 enemies of your religion, by the inno- 
 cence of your lives : convince the 
 world that your piety is useful for all 
 things ; that it not only holds out the 
 prospect of future happiness, but that 
 it imparts peace and tranquillity of 
 mind, the only pleasures worthy of en- 
 joyment in this life. 
 
 Let us, therefore, give glory to the 
 truth ; and for this purpose, let us re r
 
 Epiphany. 225 
 
 ceive it with joy, like the wise men, the 
 instant it is manifested to us : let us 
 not detain it in injustice, like the 
 priests, when it is our duty to discover 
 it to others ; and let us not persecute it, 
 like Herod, by the imperfections and 
 irregularities of our lives. Then, af- 
 ter having walked in its light during 
 the time of our mortal pilgrimage, 
 we shall be all hereafter sanctified 
 together in truth, and consummated 
 in charity. 
 
 - 
 
 L5
 
 226 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER THE 
 EPIPHANY. 
 
 ON THE HOMAGE WHICH IS PAID TO 
 VIHTUE BY THEWORLP. 
 
 / beseech you therefore brethren, by 
 'the mercy of God, that you present 
 your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, 
 pleasing to God, your reasonable 
 service ; and be not conformed to this 
 world. . . Rom. xii. 1, 2. 
 
 HAPPY should I be, 
 beloved Christians, could I convince 
 you that the service which God requires 
 of you, is reasonable ; and that not to 
 be conformed to this world is the 
 only means of attaining true honour 
 and glory in the estimation both of 
 God and man. But by what argu- 
 ments can this be effected? The greater 
 number of Christians are deterred from
 
 First Sunday after Epiphany. 227 
 
 the public profession of piety by the 
 fear of what the world will say. The 
 greater number of Christians are con- 
 formed to this world in order to avoid 
 its censures and ridicule. How then 
 shall I work an entire change in your 
 sentiments ; and convince you that 
 virtue is applauded by the world ; and 
 that the just man has more to fear from 
 its adulatory homage, and veneration, 
 than from its derision and contempt ? 
 Oh, had I the abilities of St. Paul, in, 
 what glowing colours would I exhibit 
 before your eyes the reasonableness of 
 this service ! in what words would I 
 describe the happy liberty, and peace 
 of mind M'hich attend the practice of 
 virtue ! how clearly would I expose the 
 futility of those pretexts which you 
 alledge in justification of your confor- 
 mity with the world ! and how satis 
 factorily would I prove, that every 
 species of true honour, esteem, admira- 
 tion, and applause amona; men would 
 L6
 
 228 First Sunday 
 
 attend your resolution, and exalt you 
 far above the level, which you at pre- 
 sent occupy among the followers of 
 the world ! 
 
 It is a fact, my beloved, that 'the 
 world, averse as it is to the practice of 
 virtue itself, has a respect for virtue in 
 others: it envies the happiness of the 
 just : it pays even public homage to 
 their piety : and although its censures 
 are sometimes loud, and contemptuous, 
 they are never aimed at virtue itself, 
 but at the weaknesses, and failings of 
 , its imperfect followers. 
 
 I readily allow that the scriptures 
 declare that persecutions shall be the 
 portion of all who live piously in Jesus 
 Christ, (2 Tim. ii. 12.) ; and therefore, 
 God forbid that, by describing the 
 honours which attend the virtuous on 
 earth, I should pretend to call in ques- 
 tion the words of truth ; or by denying 
 that virtue is characterized by suffer- 
 ings, deprive the just man of one of
 
 after Epiphany. 229 
 
 the most persuasive motives to patient 
 endurance under the many trials to 
 which his piety is exposed. But the per- 
 secutions, which he experiences from 
 the world, are not necessarily confined,, 
 says St. Augustin, to contempt and de- 
 rision. They more frequently consist 
 in the display of false charms, which 
 endanger his innocence : they more 
 frequently consist in flattering induce- 
 ments, and solicitations to vice : they 
 more frequently consist in scandals 
 authorized by custom, which are cal- 
 culated either to weaken h,is piety, or 
 at least to embitter his days with sor- 
 row. Various, therefore, are the spe- 
 cies of persecutions ; reproaches, and 
 contempt are neither the most danger- 
 ous nor the most common. 
 
 Although the world is the declared 
 enemy of Jesus Christ: although in 
 practice it knows not God : although 
 it calls good evil, and evil good; 
 nevertheless, worldly as it is, it enter-
 
 230 First Sunday 
 
 tains, a respect for virtue, it forms 
 the highest opinion of the hap- 
 piness of the just man, flies to his 
 society for refuge and consolation in 
 its distress, and frequently pays public 
 homage to him. 
 
 1. It must not be supposed that 
 error and corruption have so far pre- 
 vailed over the earth as to have effaced 
 from the minds of men the vestiges of 
 moral rectitude, and extinguished the 
 spark of virtue. The most abandoned 
 sinner is sometimes obliged to listen 
 to the voice of reason and religion, 
 which, in the interior of his soul, es- 
 pouses the cause of truth, and forces 
 him to respect what he has not the 
 resolution to embrace. The counte- 
 nance of the just man appears decked 
 with heavenly charms, and extorts se- 
 cret homage from the most flagitious : 
 he resembles the ark of the Lord, the 
 abode of his glory, which even among
 
 after Epiphany. 231 
 
 the Philistins retains its terrors, and 
 its majesty. 
 
 The more the worldling is enslaved to 
 his passions, the more does he interiorly 
 esteem the man who has fought and con- 
 quered them. The more rapidly he is 
 borne down the impetuous torrent of 
 pleasure, the more does he admire the 
 magnanimity, and courage of the soul, 
 which is capable of resisting its inces- 
 sant, and, in his opinion, irresistible 
 violence. From every shameful fall he 
 collects an honourable testimony in 
 favour of virtue; because, from the 
 experience of his own weakness, he 
 is more sensibly convinced of the 
 strength of mind which it inspires. 
 Hence the just man appears in his eyes 
 infinitely more worthy of admiration, 
 than all the great personages whom the 
 world extols. He forms a comparison be- 
 tween the respective merits of both, and 
 invariably gives the palm to the virtu- 
 ous. He remarks that good fortune, or
 
 232 First Sunday 
 
 even bold temerity may form conque- 
 rors ; that birth, or chance may bestow 
 crowns and sceptres ; that men who are 
 called great, may be indebted for that 
 proud appellation, either to the pecu- 
 liar circumstances of the age in which 
 they lived, or to the caprice and adula- 
 tions of the people ; that honours, and 
 dignities are not always the fruit of real 
 merit: in a word, that genius, cultivated 
 with labour and perseverance, may at- 
 tain every degree of glory which the 
 world can bestow : and moreover he re- 
 marks, that in all these various acquire- 
 ments the soul inherited from nature the 
 first dispositions, and, as it were, the out- 
 lines of that glory which was the object 
 of her ambition, and which she at- 
 tained. On the other hand, he reflects 
 that piety is a merit to which the just 
 man is entitled independently of every 
 living creature ; a merit pure and una- 
 dulterated ; a merit, which is acquired 
 by opposing the dispositions of nature,
 
 after Epiphany. 233 
 
 and in the pursuit of wh % ich, he must 
 necessarily encounter continual ob- 
 stacles and repugnances in. his own 
 breast. In this manner, even vice con- 
 tributes to honour virtue, and dark- 
 ness gives testimony to the light. 
 
 The esteem of the world, moreover, 
 -is not confined to silent admiration : 
 it raises its voice ; it publicly proclaims 
 that the just man is happy ; it envies 
 his lot," and declares that he has chosen 
 the betteV part. Ah ! my friends, you 
 perhaps have imagined that sinners, the 
 slaves of their debauched inclinations, 
 were incessantly inebriated with the 
 fumes of sensuality, and worldly enjoy- 
 ments ' you perhaps have thought that 
 the illusion continued without interrup- 
 tion, and that their whole life was a plea- 
 sant dream. But the case is far other- 
 wise. For, even in the midst of their false 
 pleasures, they secretly acknowledge 
 that the happiness of the just man is 
 far superior to their own ; they com-
 
 234 First Sunday 
 
 pare the peaceful serenity of his con- 
 science with the ceaseless remorse to 
 which they are the devoted prey ; the 
 sweet consolations which he enjoys 
 in the paths of virtue, with the bitter 
 ingredients which the world mixes 
 in their cups of pleasure; the silent 
 and undisturbed tranquillity of his re- 
 tirement, with the continual hurry and 
 anxiety of their hopes, and fears : his 
 days full of good works, and devoted 
 to the great business of salvation, with 
 their days spent in the pursuit of plea- 
 sure, in doing nothing to the purpose, 
 and in which few moments can be said 
 to be devoted either to the glory of 
 God, or the good of their fellow crea- 
 tures. They make this comparison, 
 even in the midst of their debaucheries, 
 and the effect which it produces on 
 their minds is painful indeed : it forces 
 repeated sighs from their bosom ; it dis- 
 plays before their eyes the melancholy 
 state of their own soul, nd exposes in
 
 after Epiphany. 235 
 
 the most engaging charms the happy 
 lot of the just. Why then do you he- 
 sitate to declare yourselves the servants 
 of Jesus Christ in the presence of sin- 
 ners ?. Be not afraid : they will wish 
 to resemble you, the instant you have 
 ceased to resemble them. 
 
 Perhaps you have frequently sought 
 after the applause of men, and with 
 that view, have exhibited before them 
 the full display of your talents. But 
 have you ever succeeded in the at- 
 tempt? No: the world looks down, 
 I will not say with indifference, but 
 with contempt and scorn on the person 
 who avowedly courts its approbation 
 and smiles. One beautiful woman will 
 not flatter another; one vain man will 
 not extol another. The world is not 
 fond of bestowing praise on its own : it 
 points out the weaknesses, and defects, 
 and not the good qualities of its a- 
 dorers ; it seeks to depress, and not to 
 exalt its votaries. But, if you embrace
 
 236 First Sunday 
 
 a life of virtue, the world no longer 
 considers you as its own, and, therefore, 
 it will not seek to lessen your reputa- 
 tion ; or rather it will not only allow you 
 the highest degree of merit to which 
 your piety is entitled, but will likewise 
 extol, and magnify every other good 
 quality which it had hitherto unjustly 
 called in question. Depend upon it, 
 therefore, that the M'orld will not es- 
 teem the qualities on which you now 
 pride yourselves, until you yourselves 
 despise them for the love of Jesus. 
 
 Do this, and the world will soon ex- 
 claim : "how admirable it is to see a 
 person of his age, or in his circum- 
 stances, renounce with a resolute mind 
 the vanities, and follies of a sinful life." 
 The minister of God indeed will not 
 flatter you so far as to say that your 
 merit will be equal to the applause 
 which you will receive. For, were 
 kings to throw their crowns and scep- 
 tres at thy feet, O God ! what would
 
 after Epiphany. 237 
 
 they renounce ? Agreeable dreams, 
 and real anxieties. What would they 
 sacrifice ? Nothing, when compared 
 with the treasures with which Thou 
 enrichest the faithful soul, and the 
 glory which he will acquire in serv- 
 ing Thee. The world, however, in- 
 competent as it is to judge of spiritual 
 things, will admire, and extol the merit 
 of this your sacrifice : and so far from 
 having reason to dread its censures, 
 you will be confused by its unmerited 
 applause; you will exclaim against their 
 adulations ; you will treat them as in- 
 jurious to the honour of God ; and 
 humbled into the dust at the sight of 
 your own nothingness, of which you 
 will then be more sensibly convinced, 
 you will say : " what have I renounced, 
 my God, for which Thou hast not re- 
 paid me a hundred fold !" 
 
 Great and glorious, indeed, is this 
 homage which the world pays to 
 piety. But this is not all; it not only
 
 238 -First Sunday 
 
 applauds, and envies the choice of the 
 just man, but in his fidelity and recti- 
 tude alone does it seek, and find con- 
 solation. For the truth of this asser- 
 tion I will appeal to your own expe- 
 rience. By whom were you comforted 
 and supported in your afflictions, and 
 distress, on those trying occasions, when 
 you were either deserted by your former 
 companions, or when their society was 
 become insupportable? Was it not by 
 the faithful, and pious friend ? Was it 
 not he, says St. Augustin, who poured 
 oil on your wounds, who instilled into 
 your troubled minds the soothing balm 
 of resignation to the decrees of heaven, 
 who alleviated your sorrows, and, by 
 beins: admitted into the secret recesses 
 
 O 
 
 of your heart, removed the heavy load 
 by which it was oppressed ? Have you 
 not experienced that the man of virtue 
 alone can share in the disgraces of a 
 friend without coolness, and rejoice in 
 his prosperity without envy?
 
 after Epiphany. 239 
 
 Yes, my beloved, the afflicted world- 
 ling seeks consolation in the society of 
 the just. There he breathes that air of 
 candour, sincerity, and truth which he 
 enjoys not in the world. Into their 
 bosoms he pours forth the secret emo- 
 tions of his heart, the inmost recesses 
 of his soul. In their presence he be- 
 holds the folly of indulging melancholy 
 and uneasiness on account of the vicis- 
 situdes of life, and candidly acknow- 
 ledges that there is nothing in the 
 world but vanity, and affliction of spirit. 
 With them he is not restrained by the 
 thought that perhaps he is confiding 
 his secrets to a false friend. With them 
 his heart dilates ; he enjoys peace ; he 
 is free from suspicion, and mistrust; 
 and he tastes the ineffable pleasure of 
 displaying his whole soul without fear. 
 
 In this source the public honours, 
 which the world pays to virtue, may 
 be said peculiarly to originate. Fre- 
 quently have we seen men of obscure
 
 240 First Sunday 
 
 extraction, but ennobled by the gifts of 
 grace, acquire greater esteem, and 
 more honourable distinctions, than 
 birth and dignity ever obtained. Ser- 
 vants of God, of the meanest origin 
 according to the world, have been the 
 arbiters of princes, and their people, 
 and have, by the mere reputation of 
 their sanctity, been received with great- 
 er homage and veneration than the most 
 haughty vanity ever dared to aspire 
 to. Anthony the hermit, a man who 
 enjoyed no worldly distinction amongst 
 his countrymen, was renowned through 
 the whole universe; and Emperors 
 themselves rejoiced more at receiving 
 a letter from the man of God, than in 
 wearing the diadem. Jehu, king of 
 Israel, seated the holy man Jonadab 
 in his own chariot at a pompous so- 
 lemnity ; and royal majesty did not 
 blush to behold on his right hand the 
 simplicity of a prophet. Daniel, one 
 of the children of captivity, received
 
 after Epiphany. 241 
 
 in the palace even of an infidel king, 
 and in a nation where he was a slave, 
 the honours of the purple robe and 
 golden collar, which were the highest 
 honours in the state. The most licen- 
 tious court of Palestine publicly vene- 
 rated the austerity of John the Bap- 
 tist ; and Herod endured with respect 
 the bold reproofs of the precursor, un- 
 til his weakness abandoned him to the 
 lascivious cruelty of his adulterous 
 consort. O man ! why are you asham- 
 ed of piety? Piety alone, says the 
 Spirit of God, will make you illustri- 
 ous among the people, cause you to be 
 honoured by the wise and the ancients, 
 give you respectability even in the 
 presence of kings, and. what is more, 
 will be the means of your attaining to 
 life eternal, and of leaving behind you 
 u renown that will last for ages to 
 come, fVisd.vm. TO, 11, 13. 
 
 Be careful only that your piety be 
 not stained with any weakness of hu* 
 
 VOL. i. M
 
 242 First Sunday 
 
 man nature, and that the remnants of 
 your former bad dispositions, passions, 
 and defects, be entirely subdued : for 
 these in general are the causes of the 
 derisions and censures of the world, 
 Do this, and then you will have no- 
 thing more to fear, than lest your first 
 step towards a reformation of life should 
 receive the applause which is due only 
 to perfect repentance ; lest the world 
 should attempt to crown you before 
 you have fought, and conquered ; lest 
 the misguided judgment of the public 
 should throw a veil over the remnants 
 of your former defects, and lest, by the 
 repeated approbations bestowed on 
 your feeble commencement in piety, 
 you should be lulled into a false secu- 
 rity, and should forget your past 
 crimes ; crimes, which perhaps a 
 whole life spent in weeping and pe- 
 nance would be inadequate to atone for. 
 Here is your danger. Tremble, then, 
 I say ; for perhaps this undeserved
 
 after Epiphany. 543 
 
 esteem of men may be a judgment of 
 <fod upon you, awarding this empty 
 Tecompense in consideration of some 
 natural virtues that you possess, and 
 reserving for hereafter the punishment 
 which your concealed pride has deserv- 
 ed. The number of false penitents, 
 who thus receive their reward in this 
 life, is probably very great : and there- 
 fore, the greatest danger which threat- 
 ens a Christian on his first entrance on 
 a life of piety, is the too hasty applause 
 of the world : for we are naturally in* 
 clined to over-rate our own exertions, 
 and if the public should over-rate 
 them likewise, we should be too ready 
 to conclude that we had finished our 
 career before we had completed the 
 first step ; and thus the world, which 
 first seduced us by diminishing in our 
 eyes the enormity of sin, would se- 
 duce us again by exaggerating our 
 virtues. 
 
 M2
 
 244 First Sunday 
 
 Be therefore on your guard; pay 
 no attention to man, or to the opini- 
 on of man, but perform all your ac- 
 tions as if God was your only witness ; 
 submit your cause to his decision, for 
 he alone is just and true ; and be re- 
 signed to the consequences which may 
 result from the impression which your 
 change may make on the world. If it 
 be his will that your conduct should 
 meet with the approbation and praise 
 of men, he will, in the midst of these 
 vain acclamations, infuse into your 
 souls a more perfect knowledge of 
 your weakness and dependence. Paul, 
 at the time that a whole city, captivat- 
 ed with the lustre of his piety, pro- 
 claimed him a god, and were preparing 
 their sacrifices ; Paul, at the time that 
 he was received by the faithful as an 
 angel of the Most High ; Paul, I say, 
 in the midst of these accumulated ho- 
 nours, was humbled by the shameful 
 sting of Satan : God, who alone was
 
 after Epiphany. 245 
 
 the author of his exaltation, stampt 
 upon his heart the humiliating evi- 
 dence of his own weakness, lest he 
 should attempt to exalt himself. But 
 if, on the contrary, it be his will that 
 derisions and censure be the portion of 
 your virtue, he will amply compensate 
 for these exterior trials by secret con- 
 solations ; and he will oppose an insur- 
 mountable barrier to the combinations 
 and efforts of a profane world. We 
 are despised, said the Apostle, we are 
 trodden under foot dike dirt, but we 
 are not dejected ; we are treated as the 
 outcast of the world, the offscouring 
 of all even until now ; but we rejoice 
 - in these tribulations, because we enjoy 
 the ineffable consolations of Jesus, who 
 never fails to administer the sweet balm 
 of heavenly delights to his servants 
 when they are suffering for his name. 
 
 Throw yourselves, therefore, into the 
 arms of his love, and be not solicitous 
 for the consequences. Begin at least 
 M3
 
 J24C First Sunday 
 
 \ 
 
 to s^rve him. Break asunder the chains,, 
 shake of the yoke, which have so long: 
 held you in bondage. Dare to despise 
 the judgment of a world, the fallacy 
 of whose pleasures you have experi- 
 enced : and no longer insult the ma- 
 jesty of God, by fearing him less than 
 manl Listen to the dictates of rea- 
 son, and attribute not too great im- 
 portance to the opinion of creatures; 
 or rather, be not led away by the sup- 
 position that piety is always ridiculed 
 and despised. 
 
 Do thou, O God, complete the work 
 thou hast begun. Enlighten and sup- 
 port the steps, give strength to the 
 timid arid wavering resolutions of these 
 thy servants, on their first entrance 
 through the narrow gate. Convince 
 them that thy judgments alone are to 
 be feared ; that the derisions and scoffs 
 of the world add a new lustre and 
 increased merit to the actions which 
 are agreeable to thy divine Majesty;
 
 after Epiphany. 247 
 
 and that the works of piety, which thy 
 grace has enabled them to perform, can 
 receive no competent reward, unless, 
 thou bestowest thyself. 
 
 M4
 
 248 
 
 -a! 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER 
 THE EPIPHANY. 
 
 ON WORKS OF CHARITY TO OUR 
 NEIGHBOUR, 
 
 Loving, one another with brotherly 
 love . . . communicating to the neces- 
 sities of the saints ; pursuing hospita- 
 lity. .... Rom. xii. 10, 13. 
 
 ALTHOUGH the obli- 
 gation of communicating to the neces- 
 sities of our neighbours is so frequent- 
 ly inculcated in holy writ, and so uni- 
 versally known and acknowledged by 
 Christians of every denomination, ne- 
 vertheless, its extent is so little under- 
 stood, and the means of making our 
 charities subservient to salvation are so 
 little attended to, that it is the dirty of
 
 Second Sunday after Epiphany. 249 
 
 the pastor to expose from time to time,, 
 before the eyes of the faithful, the pre- 
 cise maxims of the gospel on that sub- 
 ject. Many there are with revenues 
 
 more than ample to supply the utmost 
 wants of nature, whose unfeeling or co- 
 vetous dispositions induce them to be- 
 lieve that the precept is fulfilled to the 
 extent required, by bestowing a few 
 superfluities and a casual trifle on the 
 poor. To these it is necessary to< re- 
 peat the dreadful anathemas pronounc- 
 ed by the spirit of God agailist those 
 who refuse to administer assistance and 
 relief to their distressed fellow-mem- 
 bers in proportion to their means. 
 Others there are, who, because their 
 worldly substance, is small, and barely 
 sufficient for the supply of their own 
 necessities, imagine that they are totally 
 exempted from the obligation of cha- 
 rity^ To these it is necessary to state,, 
 that charity 'has many branches, and 
 that as much, in proportion, to their 
 
 M5
 
 250 . v .; Second Sunday 
 
 means, is required from the poor as from; 
 the rich. 
 
 It is, moreover, incumbent on the 
 pastor, not only to enlarge from time 
 to time on the above subjects, but to 
 display the motives on which charity 
 ought to be founded. The merit of 
 charity consists, not in the gift alone, 
 but in the intention and disposition of 
 the giver. The man who is charitable 
 through pride, vain-glory, or through 
 the mere natural sentiments of compas- 
 sion, will be rejected by the Judge at' 
 the last day with these words : Amen, 
 thou hast received thy reward. The 
 man who loves his neighbour, and 
 relieves his distresses, and at the 
 same time continues obstinate in his 
 wicked ways, will acquire no title to 
 an eternal recompense. Be atten- 
 tive, whilst I enlarge on these mani- 
 fold parts of charity. 
 
 1. It is an established maxim of re- 
 ligion, that every Christian is charged
 
 after Epiphany. 251 
 
 with the care of his brother in afflic- 
 tion, and that the law, hy command- 
 ing us to love him, imposes the obliga- 
 tion of succouring and relieving him in 
 distress. This is a necessary deduc- 
 tion : for love cannot exist without a 
 feeling and sympathy for the object 
 beloved, nor consequently without en- 
 deavouring to remove the cause of his 
 sufferings. The precept, therefore, of 
 loving our neighbour^ is something 
 more than a command to refrain from 
 injuring him either in his property, re- 
 putation; or person ; it enforces the 
 duty of protecting him against the ma- 
 levolence of others, and of parting even 
 with what is our own when his necessi- 
 ties require it: it is something more 
 than an interdiction of hatred, animo- 
 sity, and revenge; it exacts from us 
 the same sincerity of love towards him, 
 as we feel for ourselves. 
 
 Works of charity, therefore, are not 
 merely recommended as tending to 
 ' M 6
 
 252 Second Sunday 
 
 greater perfection, but they are imposed 
 as an indispensable lawou every Chris- 
 tian By the grace which united us in bap- 
 tism to the assembly of the saints, we 
 were all made members of the same bo-*, 
 dy, and children of the same Father, We 
 then contracted an intimate and sacred 
 connection with every individual of the 
 faithful. All distinctions between no- 
 ble and peasant, rich and poor, were 
 then done away. From that time the 
 distresses and wants of others are be- 
 come our own : when a fellow-member 
 suffers, we are bound to suffer with 
 him ; nor can \ve refuse him our atten- 
 tion, our solicitude, and our services, 
 "without renouncing the sacred band by 
 which we are all united together under 
 Jesus Christ, and which is the only 
 foundation of our hopes, and our only 
 pledge of eternal glory. The first 
 Christians possessed ' every thing in 
 common; because, from the time of 
 their conversion, they formed but one
 
 after Epiphany* 53 
 
 heart and one soul. They sold all they 
 had, and deposited the amount in the 
 hands of the apostles, because they 
 deemed it useless to be the legal owners 
 of a property which was become the 
 property of their brethren, and of 
 which necessity alone could regulate 
 the expenditure for their own use. 
 
 This duty of charity increases in pro- 
 portion to the wealth of the possessor. 
 The truth of this position I will demon- 
 strate in a few words. Prosperity, and 
 abundance of earthly possessions, can- 
 not make void the obligation of prac- 
 tising the frugality, the simplicity, and 
 the self-denial enjoined by the gospel. 
 In vainliave we amassed, like the Is- 
 raelites, more manna than our bre- 
 thren, we can apply no more to our own, 
 use than what is prescribed by the 
 law : he that had much had nothing 
 
 o 
 
 over, 2 Cor. viii. 15. This will not 
 admit of doubt ; unless it can be prov- 
 ed that Jesus forbad luxury, dissipa-
 
 ST54- Second Sunday 
 
 tion, and pleasures to the poor and 
 wretched only, the poverty of whose 
 state would have rendered such a pro- 
 hibition nugatory. 
 
 If, therefore, it be contrary to the> 
 rules of the gospel to devote wealth to 
 the gratifying of the sensual appetite; 
 if the rich man be obliged to carry his 
 cross, to seek not his consolation in 
 this world, and to deny himself conti- 
 nually, in the same manner as the poor 
 man, to what purpose, I ask, has Pro- 
 vidence heaped so large a portion of 
 the goods of the earth on a few indivi- 
 duals ? Was it that they might cherish 
 their disorderly passions ? But the 
 scriptures declare, that we are no longer 
 indebted to the flesh, to live>according 
 to the flesh. Was it that they might 
 support the pride of rank and birth ? 
 By no means : for our lives ought to be 
 hidden with. Christ in God. Was it 
 that their days might flow on in tran- 
 quillity and indolence ? Certainly, not:
 
 after Epiphany. 55 
 
 for if we do not mourn ; if we do not 
 suffer and fight, we shall perish. Was 
 it in order to attach them more to the 
 world ? Far from it : for the Christian 
 is not a citizen of this world, but of the 
 world to come. Was it that they 
 might feast sumptuously every day ? 
 No : for the rich, man in the gospel 
 was condemned on that very account : 
 and who shall walk in his footsteps and 
 be favoured with a milder sentence ? 
 Flesh and blood shall not possess the 
 kingdom of heaven: if you do not pe- 
 nance, you shall perish. Was it that 
 they might amass riches, and extend 
 their possessions ? Ah ! what will it 
 profit them, if they gain the whole 
 world, and lose their own souls. 
 Enumerate all the Advantages, accord- 
 ing to the world, which prosperity af- 
 fords, and you will find that almost all 
 are in opposition to the law of God-. 
 
 What, therefore, were the designs of 
 God iu. heaping riches on individuals ?
 
 256 Second Sunday: 
 
 It was, that they might be the minis- 
 ters of his Providence to those who 
 suffer : it was that certain depositaries, 
 secure alike from violence and fraud,, 
 might be provided for the widow and 
 the orphan, in order that strength and 
 life might be imparted to every mem- 
 ber of the body, and that none might 
 be in danger of perishing through 
 want. These were the designs of Pro- 
 vidence ; and these designs must be 
 fulfilled : for to him who knoweth to do- 
 good, says St. James, and doth it not 9 
 it is sin. Wo to you rich . . . your gold 
 and silver is cankered, and the rust of 
 them shall be for a testimony against 
 you, and shall eat your Jlesh like fire.. 
 You, have stored up to yourselves wrath 
 against the day of wrath, James v. 
 
 The precept of charity, therefore, is 
 obligatory, in the first place, on the 
 more wealthy members of the commu- 
 nity, and this in proportion to their 
 means. The obligation, however, is not
 
 after Epiphany. 257 
 
 confined solely to them : the precept 
 is general, and extends to all : every 
 member is required to succour his fel- 
 low-member in distress. I will eluci- 
 date this point by observing, that cha- 
 rity does not exclusively consist in dis- 
 tributing alms, as the scriptures abun- 
 dantly testify : but is divided into se- 
 veral branches, many of which may be 
 performed as well by the lower as by the 
 higher classes of society. To visit the 
 sick, to comfort the afflicted, to pray 
 for all, are acts of charity, from the 
 performance of which no one is de- 
 barred, and from the obligation of 
 which no one can be exempted. You> 
 therefore, amongst my present audito- 
 ry, whose poverty will allow you only 
 to bestow a little, let me exhort you to 
 bestow that little willingly, like the 
 poor widow in the gospel, Luke xxi. 2. 
 The Lord will repay you. In addition 
 to this, apply sedulously to the other 
 branches of charity which are within.
 
 258 ' .A Second Sunday 
 
 your power ; visit the sick, comfort 
 the afflicted, fly to the bedside of 
 your suffering fellow-member,' cheer 
 his desponding spirits, and reconcile 
 him to chastisements which are inflict- 
 ed by a merciful God. In order to 
 form a just estimate of these works of 
 charity, suppose for a moment that you 
 yourselves are laid on the bed of sick- 
 ness, languishing under the pains of a 
 mortal disease, and that the Christian 
 friend enters your apartment of sor- 
 row ; pours oil on your wounds ; re- 
 spects your loathsome flesh as the tem- 
 ple of the Holy Ghost ; venerates you 
 as the image of God ; loves you as a 
 brother as a fellow-member as a co- 
 heir of eternal bliss ; calms your impa- 
 tience by the maxims of faith ; and sub- 
 mits to every inconvenience, in order 
 either to mitigate your sufferings, or 
 promote your salvation. Would he 
 not impart the most soothing consola- 
 tion to your mind ? Ah ! you woukk
 
 after Epiphany. 259 
 
 \ 
 
 call this charity indeed. You would 
 lift up your hands to heaven, and ex- 
 claim : " Lord, thou art rich in mercy: 
 thou wilt never abandon them that put 
 their trust in thee : thy eye is ever at- 
 tentive to the necessities of thy crea- 
 tures, and thou wilt not suffer them to 
 be afflicted without consolation, or 
 above their strength." This, perhaps, 
 is the most eminent branch of charity, 
 and is in the power of every one to 
 perform. Let me exhort you, there- 
 fore, to be attentive to it, and consider 
 it as a duty which you owe to your 
 fellow-members. 
 
 I will now proceed to the motives by 
 which you ought to be actuated, in or- 
 der to be entitled to the reward which 
 is prepared for the charitable Chris- 
 tian. 
 
 2. Exterior works of piety Have no 
 merit in the sight of God, except they 
 tend to the sanctification of the inward 
 man; for the kingdom of God is with-
 
 260 Second Sunday 
 
 in us, and the establishment of that 
 kingdom is promoted only by works 
 which contribute to the extinction of 
 vice, and to the complete subjugation 
 of the passions. According- to this- 
 maxim of religion, the works of cha- 
 rity, namely, the relieving our brethren 
 by almsdeeds, the consoling, visiting, 
 or attending them in their afflictions, 
 are the promoters of piety, but they are 
 not piety itself: they are the duties of 
 a Christian, but they form not the 
 whole of his character. Charity, in 
 order to be entitled to an eternal reward, 
 must contribute to the increase and pu- 
 rification of our virtue ; it must be the 
 daily remedy for our imperfections, 
 and every individual act must tend to 
 the right ordering of some one or 
 other of our passions. For this pur- ( 
 pose we must look into the state of our 
 souls, and examine, by the light of 
 grace, the nature and the extent of our 
 
 O ' 
 
 depraved inclinations. This done> we
 
 after Epiphany, 
 
 must select those works of mercy 
 which, by their opposite tendency, are 
 calculated to effect our deliverance 
 from their odious tyranny. For in- 
 stance, if our affections are centered in 
 the world and its vanities, we must 
 give the preference to those works 
 which more frequently call us away 
 from the noise and hurry of the world, 
 and engage us in prayer, silence, and 
 retirement. If our disposition is pas- 
 sive and indolent, if we have not suffi- 
 cient courage to stimulate ourselves to 
 works of self-denial, and we lead a more 
 sensual and effeminate life than what is 
 usually led in the world, although per- 
 haps disgust or other motives have in- 
 duced us to live in retirement : ah ! 
 then the more laborious, the more 
 painful works of mercy, attendance on 
 the more disgusting, the more wretched 
 objects of misery ought to be our 
 choice. If in the duties of religion 
 we seek to distinguish ourselves from
 
 Second Sunday 
 
 mothers, and court the applause of the 
 world, we must then prefer the more 
 obscure works of mercy, and those in 
 particular which are likely to expose 
 us to the derisions of the unwise. 
 If our temper is hasty and vehement, 
 and we are irritated and ruffled by every 
 trifling contradiction or untoward 
 event, then we must choose the works 
 which require mildness, and patience in 
 the performance, and be ready to en- 
 dure with calmness the complaints, the 
 discontents, the ingratitude, and even 
 the abuse of those whom we relieve. 
 In a word, it must be our object to se- 
 lect the works which will the most ef- 
 fectually habituate us to the practice 
 of those virtues to which we are stran- 
 gers. 
 
 This, my beloved friends, is an im- 
 portant subject for your consideration. 
 Exterior works, as I said above, have 
 no merit except they promote our sane-
 
 after Epiphany. 263 
 
 tification : and oursanctification is not 
 promoted but by the correction of our 
 vices. The new man is formed in our 
 souls in proportion only as the old man, 
 the man of sin, is Sestroyed. Those 
 works only augment the life of the spi- 
 rit, which mortify the inclinations 
 of the flesh: those works only give 
 additional strength to the inspirations of 
 grace, which weaken our unlawful pro- 
 pensities. In the life of a Christian, 
 almost every action ought to be a sa- 
 crifice ; for the Christian lives by faith, 
 and every . action that is performed 
 through motives of faith, must, of its 
 own nature, be painful to flesh and 
 blood, because it is necessarilyin opposi- 
 tion to the dictates of the sensual man. 
 
 In this manner works of mercy 
 
 ought to be made the daily sacrifice of 
 the faithful Christian : the apostle 
 distinguishes them by that name ; 
 for by such sacrifices, says he, exhort-
 
 <264 Second Sunday 
 
 ing the faithful to the pious offices of 
 charity, by such sacrifices, God's fa- 
 vour is obtained, Heb. xiii. 16. 
 
 \Ve violate this maxim of religion 
 two different ways. In the first place, 
 having received from nature a tender 
 and feeling heart, which is easily af- 
 fected at the sight of others woes, we 
 are charitable merely through senti- 
 ments of human compassion ; on some 
 occasions we are charitable through 
 gratitude ; on others, through friend- 
 ship ; and on all, through motives 
 which are agreeable to our taste and 
 inclination. 
 
 I readily allow, that the man who is 
 charitable through these motives, ful- 
 fils a moral and social duty ; and there- 
 fore, I pretend not to say, either that 
 these happy dispositions ought to be 
 resisted, or that no merit is acquired 
 merely because they are in unison 
 with our natural feelings. No, my
 
 after Epiphany. 265 
 
 beloved brethren ; it is the duty of re- 
 ligion to make the gifts of nature sub- 
 servient to grace. These natural dis- 
 positions to virtue are gifts of the Crea- 
 tor, which, according to the designs 
 of his Providence, ought to be made 
 the first foundations of our spiritual 
 edifice. But we must reflect that piety 
 is not confined within the limits of na- 
 ture : that it extends far beyond them ; 
 and that, if we stop at these bounda- 
 ries, we have done nothing, we are only 
 at the entrance of the narrow gate, 
 where the path is rugged, and strewed 
 with thorns. Ah ! however happy 
 our dispositions may be, we shall never 
 advance far, if we only comply with 
 their dictates, without any reference to 
 the conquering of our vices and passi- 
 ons. This, therefore, is the rule which 
 we ought to bear in mind, namely, that 
 the exterior works of piety v which 
 leave us as sensual, as unmortified, as 
 VOL. i. N
 
 266 Second Sunday 
 
 imperfect as we were before, have only 
 the appearance, and not the substance 
 of the virtue of chanty. 
 
 In the second place, this maxim is 
 violated in a more culpable manner. 
 There are many who lead a worldly, 
 sensual, and profane life, and rely with 
 unsuspecting security on their works 
 of mercy, and on the abundance of 
 their alms. Like the daughters of 
 Tyre, they expect to appease the wrath 
 of the great King by mingling charity 
 with their worldly pleasures. They 
 imagine that charity covers all ; that 
 prayer, retirement, self-denial, and the 
 other most indispensable maxims of a 
 Christian life may be neglected, and 
 their sins atoned for by largesses to the 
 poor. But, my God ! how light 
 would then be thy cross ! how favour- 
 ,able to riches and sensuality would 
 then be thy doctrine ! and how very 
 open and easy the path that leads to 
 life ! Ah ! the Lord demands not our
 
 after Epiphany. 67 
 
 gold alone, but our hearts. Charity, 
 it is true, contributes to the expiation 
 of the sins of which we repent ; but it 
 does not justify the passions which we 
 continue to indulge : it is the fruit of 
 piety ; but it is not the licence for vice. 
 My God ! give me a compassion- 
 ate and tender heart, but suffer not my 
 eyes to be shut to my multiplied trans- 
 gressions. Infuse the holy spirit of 
 charity into my breast, but suffer not 
 the artful delusions of Satan to lead me 
 into that fatal error, that alms exempt 
 from penance, lest my good works con- 
 tribute more to my condemnation, 
 than to the accumulation of a never- 
 failing treasure in heaven. 
 
 Moreover, our title to a reward here- 
 after is forfeited, as often as we are not 
 actuated in the distribution of our cha- 
 rities by a proper intention. On this 
 subject, however, I shall only say, 
 that we must have no ostentatious 
 views, but be more desirous that our 
 N2
 
 268 Second Sunday 
 
 charities should be concealed from the 
 eyes of the public, than that they 
 should be the subjects of admiration 
 and applause: we must be willing that 
 even our left hand be ignorant of what 
 our right hand doeth. The love of 
 God, and the desire of accomplishing 
 his blessed will alone must be our mo- 
 tive : we must respect a brother in dis- 
 tress, as being a fellow-member of the 
 same body ; and we must relieve him 
 with the same love and good will, as if 
 Jesus Christ in person pleaded his 
 cause before us. 
 
 Good God ! exclaims St. Augustin, 
 how many good works, on which we 
 confidently rely here below, will be re- 
 jected when the Lord Jesus shall come 
 to judge justice ! how many fruits of 
 charity, with which we expect to be 
 enriched for eternity, will be found 
 corroded by the worm of pride and 
 vainglory! how little will be left in 
 our hands, after the Judge has sepa-
 
 after Epiphany. 2 69 
 
 rated the good from the bad, the works 
 of nature from the works of grace ! and 
 how will our supposed treasure melt 
 away, when he shall allot an eternal re- 
 ward to those only which were per- 
 formed through pure motives of love, 
 and with the sole desire of pleasing 
 Him! 
 
 Let us meditate on these truths, my 
 heloved brethren, whilst we have time. 
 This is our day: -let us work before 
 the night overtakes us. The condi- 
 tions which I have described are nu- 
 merous, I allow: but they are not 
 calculated to deter you from exerting 
 your whole strength in the cause of 
 God and of your souls : on the contra- 
 ry, they are consoling they are eiv- 
 couraging they are easy. I will enu- 
 merate them one by one, and appeal to 
 your own decision for the truth of 
 what I assert. In the first place, I in- 
 formed you that the exercise of charity 
 is a duty ; that it is imposed on you, 
 N3
 
 absolute and indispensable command. 
 What more persuasive argument than 
 this could I have employed, in order to 
 make it appear amiable in your eyes ? 
 Will its charms be diminished, because 
 it is imposed as a duty by Him who 
 made you ? Will it be less pleasing to 
 the disciple, because it is more pleasing 
 to the master ? Secondly, I declafd 
 that these works of mercy ought to be 
 made the daily sacrifices for the faults 
 which you daily commit. My friends, 
 what could be more consoling than to 
 be informed of a, new source of merit 
 in these pious duties ? to be directed to 
 hidden treasures, which the greater 
 number of Christians never expected to 
 discover in them ? What could be more 
 desirable, than to learn that you may 
 acquire, by the means of charity, every 
 virtue which you have not hitherto 
 possessed : that you may apply it as a 
 remedy to all your evils ; that you
 
 after Epiphany. 27! 
 
 may obtain by its means patience, pu- 
 rity, mildness, love of prayer, and, if 
 you please, love even of retirement; 
 and that in this single duty of re- 
 ligion, you may reap the fruits of all 
 
 the rest ? Lastly, I declared that 
 
 your acts of charity must be performed 
 as if God alone were your witness ; and 
 that the applauses and censures of men 
 must be totally disregarded. Is this 
 declaration calculated to diminish the 
 charitable dispositions of your breasts ? 
 What are all mankind, when compared 
 with God, that the faithful soul should 
 be influenced by them ? Shall the es- 
 teem of a world, which she despises, 
 which she has renounced, appear in her 
 eyes a sufficient reward for actions 
 which will be crowned with eternal 
 glory ? Is there danger of weakening her 
 charity, if I inform her that the whole 
 world is not worthy of her, that God 
 alone deserves to be the witness of 
 actions which he alone can reward ? 
 N4
 
 272 Second Sunday after Epiphany. 
 
 and that, in order to secure their just 
 recompense, it is necessary that she 
 seek no other glory than that which will 
 never end ? 
 
 No, my dearly beloved, the spirit of 
 the law does not operate against the 
 fulfilling of the law. On the contrary, 
 the more we advance in piety, the 
 more will our charity increase f the 
 more we are acquainted with the law of 
 love, the more vehemently shall we 
 aspire after its perfection in our souls. 
 Error is unmasked, in proportion as it 
 is examined : but truth appears in 
 greater splendor, the clearer it is seen. 
 Thus, when we behold it in its true 
 colours hereafter, we shall love it with 
 fervour, with sincerity, and with con- 
 stancy..
 
 273 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER 
 EPIPHANY. 
 
 ON A FUTURE STATE. -^ 
 
 The children of the kingdom shall be cast" 
 out info the exterior darkness ; there 
 shall be weeping, and gnashing of 
 teeth. * .... Matt. viii. 12. 
 
 THIS, dear Chris- 
 tians, is the term of all the desires, 
 hopes, counsels, and enterprises of the 
 wicked. Here shall end the vain re- 
 flections of the wise,, the doubts and 
 incertitude of unbelievers, the mighty 
 projects of conquerors, the monuments 
 of human glory, the solicitudes of 
 ambition, the distinctions of talents, 
 and the pride of man. This life, there- 
 
 N5
 
 274 Third Sunday 
 
 fore, is a fleeting moment, the prelude 
 only of an eternal futurity. Exterior 
 darkness, or inaccessible light, will be 
 the apportioned lot of all. 
 
 Unhappily, a spirit of irreligion 
 and incredulity, has, in these times, 
 spread its baneful influence over the 
 Christian world. The reality of a fu- 
 ture state is called in question by ma- 
 ny, and the evil continues to increase. 
 It is not, indeed, surprising that disso- 
 lute men, in order to silence the voice 
 of conscience in the midst of their un- 
 lawful pleasures, should endeavour to 
 raise doubts on this subject. A mi- 
 serable eternity is a dreadful thought : 
 it throws a gloom over all the enjoy- 
 ments of the world ; for which reason 
 the devil has at all times endeavoured 
 to efface the idea from the minds of his 
 followers. The belief of a future state 
 of punishments and rewards is a galling 
 check on the passions, and therefore he 
 is sensible that he can never succeed in
 
 after Epiphany. 275 
 
 forming hardened sinners, till he has 
 first made them unbelievers. 
 
 In this discourse I will prove the 
 weakness of the arguments on which 
 infidelity is founded. I will prove that 
 the wicked will survive their abomina- 
 tions, and that death, which puts an 
 end to their crimes, will not close 
 their existence. I will in the first place 
 prove the certainty of a future state 
 from the pure light of reason ; and se- 
 condly, the necessity, from the great- 
 ness and justice of God, and the uni- 
 versal consent of all ages and nations. 
 Not that I suppose that any individual 
 in this assembly is tainted with this 
 fatal error; but my object is, to shew 
 you the strong foundations on which 
 your faith is built, to excite you to 
 raise your thoughts to heaven, - the 
 happy mansion to which you are invit- 
 ed, and to supply you with proper ar- 
 guments if chance should lead you into 
 the company of unbelievers.
 
 276 Third Sunday 
 
 1. The pretended uncertainty of a 
 world to come is the basis on which 
 the security of unbelievers is founded. 
 " We know not what or where this 
 other world is," they observe: "per- 
 haps there is nothing beyond the 
 grave : let us therefore enjoy the pre- 
 sent moment, and leave to chance a 
 futurity, which either does not exist, 
 or which, at least, we are not permitted 
 to explore." 
 
 If we examine the origin of this per- 
 nicious error, we shall immediately dis- 
 cover that interest, and passion,- and 
 not the love of truth, was the source 
 from which it sprung. The unbeliev- 
 er inherited the same principles of natu- 
 ral religion as the rest of mankind : he 
 found written in his heart a law which 
 .forbad violence, injustice, and perfidy: 
 an interior monitor whispered in his 
 soul that he should not do to others 
 what he would not that others should 
 do to him. Education strengthened
 
 after Epiphany. 277 
 
 these principles of nature ; he was 
 taught to know, to love, and to serve 
 the author of his existence : instruc- 
 tion made him acquainted with the rules 
 of virtue, and example excited him to 
 follow them. 
 
 The unbeliever, therefore, at his en- 
 trance into life adored the Supreme 
 Beins: like the rest of men : he re- 
 
 o 
 
 spected his laws, he feared his judg- 
 ments, he hoped for the promises. 
 How comes it then, that he now re- 
 jects God, that he considers hell only 
 as a fable, futurity as a dream, the soul 
 as a spark which is extinguished with 
 the body ? By what means has he made 
 this wonderful discovery ? Was it by 
 deep and protracted meditation ? Did 
 he assist the efforts of his own weak 
 reason by consulting the learned and 
 the unprejudiced ? Did he purify his 
 heart, in order to counteract the influ- 
 ence of his passions ? In an affair of 
 such consequence, the greatest circum-
 
 27S Third Sunday 
 
 spection, the most mature reflections 
 were undoubtedly necessary. 
 
 No, he did nothing of all this. The 
 pretended discovery owes its origin to 
 far different causes. The truths of re- 
 ligion began to appear doubtful, in pro- 
 portion as his morals were corrupted : 
 then only he wished to be convinced 
 that man was like the beasts of the 
 field, when he had brutalized the facul- 
 ties of his soul : impiety gained ad- 
 mittance by shutting every avenue to 
 truth ; and incredulity gained his af- 
 fections, when he perceived that it 
 alone could deaden the stings of con- 
 science, and enable him to give loose 
 to the most infamous passions without 
 restraint. By these means he acquired 
 the sublime knowledge of infidelity ; 
 by these great efforts he discovered a 
 truth which had been concealed from, 
 or, more properly, held in detestation 
 by the rest pf men. 
 
 Yes; my beloved friends, corrup-
 
 after Epiphany. 279 
 
 tion of the heart was the source from 
 whence this fatal error took its- rise. 
 Shew me, if you can, a prudent, chaste, 
 disinterested, and temperate man, who 
 disbelieves in God, who expects not a 
 future state, and who considers impuri- 
 ties and abominations as the bias and 
 sport of innocent nature. If such a man 
 exists, he either indulges his passions in 
 private, and is exteriorly virtuous, in or- 
 der to give authority to his impious 
 tenets ; or he indulged them formerly, 
 and now, satiated with their excesses, 
 throws himself into the arms of tempe- 
 rance, as the only source of pure enjoy- 
 ment. Debauchery was the first origin 
 of infidelity ; Ms heart was corrupted 
 before his faith was lost : self-interest 
 induced him to believe that his soul wa's 
 mortal : and the cause of his present 
 moral deportment arises solely from the 
 disgust occasioned by the reiterated 
 gratification of the sensual appetite. 
 Let us, however, proceed to the rea-
 
 <280 Third Sunday 
 
 sons on which the basis of infidelity is 
 founded. You will allow that no one 
 should renounce a belief of such seri- 
 ous consequence as is that of eternity, 
 on slight and trivial grounds ; neither 
 should any one abandon the universal 
 opinion of mankind, the religion of all 
 ages, unless urged to it by the evidence 
 of truth. Now what are his reasons ? 
 " We know not," he says, " what of 
 where this other world is : perhaps 
 there is nothing beyond the grave." 
 These are the insurmountable rea- 
 sons which the Deist opposes to the 
 faith of the whole universe. O man ! 
 reflect for a moment.. A single doubt 
 is sufficient to make you an infidel, and 
 all the well-supported proofs of religion 
 are insufficient to make you a believer. 
 The only foundation of your opinion is 
 incertitude ; and you call religion, al- 
 though standing on the firmest basis, 
 an imposition on the credulity of the 
 multitude. But let us examine which.
 
 after Epiphany. 281 
 
 of the two, the infidel or the Christian, 
 is most open to this reproach of credu- 
 lity. The Christian's belief of a future 
 state is founded on the authority of the 
 scriptures ; a book beyond contradic- 
 tion the most deserving of credit; on 
 the deposition of apostolic men, who 
 have shed their blood in defence of the 
 truth, and to whose doctrine the con- 
 version of the most enlightened part of 
 the world has given testimony ; on 
 the accomplishment of prophecies, a 
 character of truth which impiety can- 
 not counterfeit ; on the tradition of all 
 ages, of all nations, of all people. The 
 infidel, on the other hand, gives credit 
 to a doctrine which is supported by 
 nothing more than a simple doubt, a 
 mere suspicion. " Who has seen it ?" 
 he says, "We know not where it is." 
 Credulity, therefore, is a reproach 
 which attaches, to the infidel alone. 
 
 But supposing that the reasons for 
 and against the belief of a futurity
 
 282 Third Sunday 
 
 Avere equal, nevertheless, even in this 
 case, I say, the infidel ought to admire, 
 and wish that the doctrine of the im- 
 mortality of the soul were true ; a doc- 
 trine which confers such honour on man; 
 a doctrine which teaches him that his 
 origin is heavenly, his hope's eternal. 
 He ought likewise to abhor the system 
 of infidelity, than which nothing can 
 be more humiliating to man : a system 
 which reduces him to a level with the 
 brute creation, which gives him neither 
 end, destination, nor hope ; and which 
 confines his existence to a small num- 
 ber of fleeting, restless, "painful days on 
 earth. Supposing, therefore, that equal 
 reasons existed on both sides, an ele- 
 vated mind ought to prefer the more 
 honourable doctrine : prudence de- 
 mands this choice. What name, then, 
 shall we affix on the infidel, who hav- 
 ing trivial doubts only on his side, and 
 beholding religion supported by au- 
 thority, prophecy, miracles, examples,
 
 after Epiphany . 283 
 
 prescription, reason, refuses his as- 
 sent, and chooses rather to consi- 
 der death as the close of existence, to 
 leave his eternal lot in the hands of 
 chance, and to expose himself delibe- 
 rately and tranquilly to the most 
 dreadful Consequences, namely, to a 
 miserable eternity. My God ! is such 
 a man guided by an unbiassed and en- 
 lightened reason, or rather is he not 
 hurried on by the dictates of the most 
 hopeless despair. 
 
 We will proceed to more cogent rea- 
 sons. If it be true, that man has no- 
 ttying to expect after this life ; and if it 
 be true, that the earth is his only seat of 
 enjoyment, why is he not happy ? Why 
 do not his days, like those of the brute, 
 flow on without disgust, without sor- 
 row, in the enjoyment of flesh and 
 blood? Why is he not satisfied with 
 pleasures ? Why cannot unrestrained 
 gratifications fill the vast capacity of 
 his heart ? Why is there always some*
 
 234 Th ird Sunday 
 
 thing wanting ? All other animals are 
 happy in the station in which God has 
 placed them : they joyfully inhabit the 
 woods and fields, without envying the 
 lot of man, whose means of enjoy- 
 ment are infinitely superior. Man 
 alone pants after more than this earth 
 can afford : .man alone is a prey to his 
 restless desires, tormented by his fears, 
 and sorrowful in the midst of pleasures. 
 
 And what, O man, is the reason of 
 this ? The reason is manifest : we were 
 not made for the earth ; we were made 
 for a more happy state : our souls are 
 susceptible of greater enjoyments than 
 the whole world can produce, and no- 
 thing less than God can ever satis- 
 fy us. 
 
 2. In the second place, if all ended 
 with the body, by what means could 
 men of every age and clime have con- 
 ceived the idea of the immortality of 
 the soul? If man were formed, like the 
 brute, for the earth alone, nothing
 
 after Epiphany. 285 
 
 could be more incomprehensible to 
 him than the idea of immortality. Ne- 
 vertheless, this so extraordinary an 
 idea, so contradictory to the senses, 
 since man dies, and is forgotten like 
 the brutes, is established over the 
 whole earth. Savage states, indeed, 
 have been found who live without a 
 mode of worship, but they all expect a 
 futurity, they all figure to themselves a 
 happy region, which their souls, will 
 inhabit after death. , Now let me ask, 
 by what means could men of such dif- 
 ferent climes, sentiments, and inte- 
 rests, agree in this one point, and all 
 declare themselves immortal? It was>. 
 not by collusion ; for no -communica- 
 tion existed between them. It was not 
 by education ; for manners, customs, 
 and .habits are not the same in all. The 
 fact is, that man convinced himself of 
 this truth ; or rather, nature taught 
 him. This is a sentiment infixed in 
 his soul by the Author of his existence,
 
 5286 Third Sunday 
 
 and has continued indelible from the 
 beginning of time. 
 
 The origin, therefore, of infidelity, 
 and the reasons on which it is founded, 
 are weak and trivial. We will exa- 
 mine the plausibility which they at- 
 tempt to throw over it, and you shall 
 see that the system, so far from being- 
 plausible, is equally repugnant to the 
 idea of an all-wise God, and to the tes- 
 timony of our conscience. 
 
 3. " Is it becoming the majesty of 
 God," they say, " to trouble himself 
 about what passes in the world, to count 
 the virtues or vices of us poor worms of 
 the earth? This would be an occupa- 
 tion which even man would disdain." 
 
 Before I expose the impiety of this 
 horrid blasphemy, I must remark, that 
 the greatest indignity to the Supreme 
 Being is offered by the unbeliever him- 
 self. For he supposes that the Deity 
 must endure cares, solicitudes, and a 
 studied attention. This is not the case ;
 
 after Epiphany. 287 
 
 for as we live, move, and exist in him, 
 every thought and every action of every 
 individual is instantly registered in his 
 eternal mind, and can no more escape 
 his notice, than he can cease to be 
 God. 
 
 This truth being acknowledged, I 
 answer in the first place, that if it be 
 beneath the majesty of God to reward 
 the virtues or punish the vices of us 
 poor worms of the earth, the man who 
 was just, upright, chaste, and pious, 
 would not be more acceptable in his 
 sight than the man who was profane, 
 impure, deceitful, and impious ; since 
 the one and the other would share the 
 same fate, and be buried for ever toge- 
 ther in the tomb. 
 
 This, however, is a small part of the 
 consequences attendant on this blas- 
 phemous system. God, so far from 
 looking down with indifference on,vir- 
 tue and vice, would declare himself in 
 favour of the impious. For, him he
 
 288 ThirdSunday 
 
 r ?. 
 
 exalts like the cedars of Lebanon, him 
 he crowns with riches and honours. 
 On the other hand, he seems to forget 
 the just man, he humbles him, he chas- 
 tises him, he delivers him up to the will 
 and power of his enemies ; for sufferings 
 and contempt are generally the lot -Of 
 the virtuous on earth. If, therefore, no 
 rewards be in store for virtue, no pu- 
 nishments for vice, in a future state, the 
 Divinity is the protector of adulterers, 
 blasphemers, and of wickedness in the 
 most abominable shapes ; he is the 
 persecutor of innocence, of purity and 
 virtue; his favours attend vice, and his 
 frowns lower over sanctity. Ah ! 
 dearly beloved, what a God of dark- 
 ness, confusion, and iniquity is ^created 
 by this s} 7 stem of infidelity ! 
 
 " Since this God is so just, then, 1 " . 
 the infidel will say, " how can he pu- 
 nish as crimes those inclinations for 
 pleasures which he himself has implant- 
 ed in our nature ?" To many, perhaps,
 
 after Epiphany. 289 
 
 this argument may appear specious ; 
 but a slight examination will be suffici- 
 ent to prove its fallacy. According to 
 this argument, desire is our own only 
 
 <J f 
 
 natural law ; inclination is our only 
 rule of conduct. We have only v to cast 
 an envious eye on the property of our 
 neighbour, and, strictly speaking, it will 
 be lawful to wrest it from him : we 
 have only to look on his wife with a 
 corrupted heart, and it will not be cri- 
 minal to violate the sanctity of matri- 
 mony, notwithstanding the most sa- 
 cred rights of society and nature : in a 
 word, we have only to possess inclina- 
 tions for every vice, and we 7 may in- 
 dulge them without remorse; and as 
 no one is fiee from vicious inclinations, 
 no one is debarred from this impious 
 liberty. Oh! how revolting to reason 
 is this doctrine. 
 
 But turn to the other side of the 
 question, and do justice to the nature 
 of man, or rather to the Creator who 
 
 VOL. j. O
 
 290 Third Sunday 
 
 formed him. If the law of our mem- 
 bers impel us to sensual enjoyments, we 
 find another law written in our hearts, 
 which invites us to chastity and tempe- 
 rance. Of these two opposite laws, 
 why should the unbeliever decide, that 
 the one which favours the senses is the 
 most conformable to the nature of 
 man ? If, indeed, no one could be 
 found who lived in opposition to this 
 law, he might with some reason argue 
 from its violence, and irresistible influ- 
 ence ; but there have always been, and 
 there still exist a multitude of chaste 
 and faithful souls, who live in the fear 
 of the Lord, and in the observance of 
 his holy laws. These inherited from na- 
 ture the same inclinations as the rest of 
 men ; the objects of passion are as ca- 
 pable of making an impression on them, 
 as on others ; they resist them never- 
 theless, and so far from lessening their 
 happiness by their resistance, they in- 
 crease it an hundred fold. The grati-
 
 after Epiphany. 291 
 
 fication of our passions, therefore, is 
 opposite, rather than conformable to 
 our nature. 
 
 Hence we must conclude, that it is 
 just on the part of God to punish the 
 transgressors of his law. Here, again, 
 the infidel will say, that " if there be 
 a future state, it will be only for the 
 just; that they perhaps may rise to a 
 life immortal, but that the punishment 
 of the sinner will be, the eternal anni- 
 hilation of his soul.'' This is his last 
 resource. 
 
 But in vain does he fly to this inse- 
 cure hold i for what punishment would 
 it be to the sinner to exist no more 
 after death? He desires annihilation. 
 It is his fondest hope. He lives peace- 
 able in the midst of sensual pleasures, 
 in thq agreeable expectation of it. And 
 can it be supposed that a just God will 
 punish the sinner by granting him an 
 end conformable to his desires ? No : 
 my beloved, God punishes not in this 
 
 O 2
 
 Tit Ird Sunday 
 
 manner. For where would be the pu- 
 nishment ? It would not he the loss of 
 the enjoyment of God ; for the infidel 
 neither loves him, nor wishes to enjoy 
 him. It M r ould not he annihilation ; 
 for nothing could be more desirable to 
 the wretch, who knows that, after death, 
 he shall exist only to suffer, and to ex- 
 piate the abominations of his past life. 
 It would not be the loss of the plea- 
 sures of the world, and of the dear ob- 
 jects of his passions ; for he knows, 
 that when he is no more, he can love 
 them no longer. In fact, a more de- 
 sirable lot could not be devised for the 
 impious : and shall this be the sweet 
 term of all his debaucheries, his blas- 
 phemies, and crimes ? 
 
 No ; beloved Christians, no : the 
 hopes of the wicked shall perish, but 
 their crimes shall not perish. Their 
 torments shall be as eternal as their un- 
 lawful pleasures would have been, had 
 they been masters of their own destiny.
 
 after Epiphany. 293 
 
 The just Judge, who scrutinizes "the 
 heart, will proportionate their suffer- 
 ings to their offences ; immortal flames, 
 to pleasures which they would willingly 
 have immortalized : eternity itself will 
 be their only just compensation, their 
 only equitable punishment. 
 
 Oh, my friends ! let us fly from this 
 cbaos of confusion, folly, and madness. 
 Let us entertain a salutary fear of futu- 
 rity. Do not ask what is done in this 
 other world, but ask yourselves what 
 you- are to do in this. Remove the 
 stings of conscience by the innocence 
 of your lives : call in God to your as- 
 sistance : seek happiness, not in shak- 
 ing off 'the yoke of piety, but in tast- 
 ing how sweet it is. Futurity will ne- 
 ver appear to you incredible, if you 
 live not like those unhappy men, who 
 confine all their hopes to the enjoy- 
 ments of the present life. Then, so far 
 from dreading a world to come, you 
 will long for its approach : you will sigh 
 03
 
 294 Third Sunday after 'Epiphany. 
 
 for that happy hour, when the Son of 
 Man, the Father of the world to come, 
 shall punish the unbelievers, and admit 
 into his kingdom the chosen few, who 
 have lived in the expectation of a 
 happy immortality.
 
 295 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 EPIPHANY. 
 
 ON SUBMISSION TO THE WILL OF GOD. 
 
 Behold a great tempest arose in the sea, 
 so that the ship was covered with the 
 waves and his disciples came to 
 Jesus, and awaked him saying, Lord 
 save us and he said, Why are. ye 
 fearful, O ye of little faith. Matt. 
 viii. 24. 
 
 . 1 HE conduct of the 
 disciples, as described in this day's gos- 
 pel, conveys a most instructive lesson to 
 Christians in adversity. They were in 
 the midst of a boisterous sea, they had 
 recourse to Jesus in their danger, and 
 nevertheless they are rebuked as men of
 
 296 Fourth Sunday 
 
 littlefaith. Theyare rebuked, not indeed 
 on account of their application to Jesus, 
 but on account of the fear they felt on 
 that occasion. They seejned to forget 
 that God was the author of their pre- 
 sent distress, and manifested by their 
 alarms a want of submission to his 
 holy will. 
 
 We, like the Apostles, are in the 
 midst of a boisterous ocean, and fre- 
 quently overwhelmed with the waves 
 of tribulation and sufferings. On those 
 occasions it is our duty, not only to 
 fly to Jesus for assistance, but, in or- 
 der to avoid the rebuke which the Apos- 
 tles received, to shew no symptoms of 
 alarm or despondency, to consider 
 God as the great author of all that 
 happens to us, and to be entirely sub- 
 missive to his will. Ah ! were this our 
 disposition, what happy effects would 
 it produce in our souls : it would 
 create cheerfulness in adversity, give 
 merit to our sufferings, sanctify our
 
 after Epiphany. 297 
 
 amusements, moderate our fears, and 
 regulate our hopes. "It would impart 
 happiness and content to each one in 
 the state in which God has placed him, 
 and, in opposition to every obstacle, 
 enable him to apply every circum- 
 stance in life to his own sanctification. 
 Seldom however is this submission 
 to the will of God to be found among 
 
 o 
 
 Christians.. All are unhappy; all are 
 grieving; all are repining ; all seem to 
 think that this constant vicissitude of 
 human things is occasioned, either by 
 chance, by their own imprudence, or 
 by the malice of others.: none attribute 
 them, to the decrees of the great Ruler 
 of the Universe. As this subject re- 
 lates to the happiness of, perhaps, every 
 individual of this assembly, I will en- 
 large upon it in this discourse. 
 
 The sorrows and disquietudes which 
 are felt from time to time by almost 
 every individual of the human race,, 
 arise from three different sources,, 
 
 05
 
 298 Fourth Sunday 
 
 namely, anxiety for the future, dissatis- 
 faction during the present moment, 
 and useless regrets for the past. The 
 future creates uneasiness by the fears 
 and hopes which it excites ; the pre- 
 sent disturbs the mind by the dis- 
 appointments, and cares which attend 
 it ; and the past throws a gloom over 
 the soul, by representing to the ima- 
 gination the sorrowful remembrance 
 of past evils, which time ought to have 
 obliterated. 
 
 1. Anxiety respecting the future, is, 
 in general, the most bitter alloy of hu- 
 man happiness. Men are wretched, 
 because they will not enjoy the present 
 moment. They anticipate cares and 
 troubles : they dive into the secrets of 
 futurity for causes of uneasiness : 
 they form imaginary phantoms, and 
 frighten themselves with them : not 
 reflecting that they have real griev- 
 ances in abundance, they trouble 
 themselves about to-morrow ; they at-
 
 after Epiphany. 299 
 
 rend not to the sentence of our Saviour, 
 who says, that, sufficient for the day is 
 the evil thereof, (Matt. vi. 34.) The 
 more enlightened class of men form to 
 themselves more subjects of uneasiness, 
 than the illiterate ; the wise are more 
 timid and restless than the simple ; 
 and the greater their foresight the 
 sooner do they descry future evils. 
 
 But, dear Christians, the man who 
 throws himself without reserve into the 
 hands of God, by perfect submission 
 to his holy will, is a stranger to the 
 troubles, the cares, and solicitudes 
 of the children of the world. He knows 
 that the secrets of futurity are con- 
 cealed in the bosom of his Providence ; 
 and that the power of man can no more 
 change the order of his adorable will, 
 than it can add to his own stature. He 
 is convinced that no danger is incurred 
 by confiding wholly in the power and 
 goodness of his Protector: or rather, 
 he rejoices, he exults in the assurance 
 06
 
 300 Fourth Sunday 
 
 that God vouchsafes to interest him- 
 self in his behalf: his joy and peace of 
 mind are increased, when the sacred 
 oracles announce that the Lord ex- 
 pressly commands him to trust in his 
 Providence, that He takes on himself 
 the care of the future, and orders him 
 to be solicitous only to sanctify the 
 present by the works of piety, and 
 religion. 
 
 I pretend not to insinuate that reli- 
 gion authorizes sldth and imprudence ; 
 and that dependance on God consists 
 in placing such an unlimited confidence 
 in him, as to suppose that he will pro- 
 vide for our future wants without our 
 concurrence. This is by no means 
 the case : the just man trusts in God, 
 but he does not tempt him : he labours 
 as if every thing depended on himself, 
 but he awaits the issue of his exertions 
 with placid tranquillity : he knows 
 that his reason must suggest the ne- 
 cessary precautions, but he knows
 
 after Epiphany. 30 1 
 
 likewise that success depends on GocI 
 alone : he is discriminating in the^ 
 choice of means, but he is simple, and 
 submissive in the expectation of the 
 event : in a word, he is as familiar 
 M'ith a prudent forecast as the world- 
 ling, but with this difference, that he 
 never sacrifices his peace, and tranquil- 
 lity of mind. 
 
 I should be more correct, if I as- 
 serted that the just man alone was 
 truly provident,, and that the prudence 
 of the worldling was purely nominal. 
 This I will prove by comparing the 
 beautiful description, given by St. 
 James, (James iii. 1 7.) of a Christian, 
 and submissive prudence, with a pru- 
 dence which is merely human. 
 
 First, the prudence of the just mart, 
 according ta the Apostle, is chaste, 
 and innocent. He acknowledges no 
 other means of attaining his ends, than 
 what conscience allows, and religion 
 approves : every species of prudence
 
 302 Fourth Sunday 
 
 incompatible with salvation,, is, ac- 
 cording to him, the height of folly. 
 The prudence of the sinner, on the other 
 hand, is corrupt, and criminal : he be- 
 trays his conscience in order to attain 
 Ilis ends : he considers only what will 
 be advantageous; and he soon per- 
 suades himself that it is innocent. 
 
 Secondly, the prudence of the just 
 man is placid. His measures are always 
 calm, and mild, because they are sub- 
 jected to the will of God : he wishes 
 for success inasmuch only as it will be 
 conformable to the will of heaven. 
 The prudence of the sinner, on the 
 other hand, is turbulent, because he is 
 not resigned to the will of God : .he 
 attaches happiness, not to the will 
 of heaven, but to the success, of his 
 plans ; and thus, his prudence becomes 
 the fruitful source of solicitude, and 
 anxiety. 
 
 Thirdly, the prudence of the just 
 man is modest He has no views be-
 
 after Epiphany. 303 
 
 yond his state of life : he fixes proper 
 limits to his desires : his ambition is to 
 make himself useful : and thus his mo- 
 deration is a treasure from whence the 
 sweets of peace, and the security of 
 innocence are derived. The prudence 
 of the sinner, on the other hand, is in- 
 satiable. He is always forming new 
 projects : his desires know no bounds : 
 the ill success of his measures is the 
 only subject of his fears : and the risk- 
 ing of his salvation is of little con- 
 sequence, provided he can. attain the 
 object of his pursuit. 
 
 Fourthly, the prudence of the just 
 man is humble, and docile. He al- 
 ways mistrusts his own powers : he 
 relies more on the assistance of heaven, 
 than on all the precautions of human 
 foresight : and although he neglects 
 nothing on his part, he looks to God 
 alone for success. The prudence of 
 the sinner, on the other hand, ' is full 
 of self-sufficiency. He relies on his
 
 304 Fourth Sunday 
 
 own means for success : lie confides in 
 his own wisdom : lie considers only 
 his own strength, as if the great Dis- 
 poser of all did not interfere with the 
 things of this world. 
 
 Fifthly, the prudence of the just man 
 is simple,, and without guile. He places 
 not his security in the constant mis- 
 trust of his fellow-creatures: he is not 
 disposed to believe evil : he would ra- 
 ther be the victim of the designs of a 
 few, than judge rashly of the thoughts 
 and intentions of many. The prudence 
 of the sinner, on the other hand, is di- 
 rected by suspicions, and mistrust. He 
 places confidence in none : he s-uspe'cts 
 evil where it does not exist: he ima- 
 gines that every individual, like himself, 
 is *solely intent on his own interest; 
 and therefore, for his own security, as 
 he thinks, he judges ill of all indiscri- 
 minately. 
 
 Sixthly, the prudence of the just man 
 is without dissimulation. He has not re-
 
 after Epiphany. 305 
 
 course to artifice : he wishes to deceive 
 no one, and therefore he never disguises 
 his real sentiments : his whole attention 
 is devoted to sincerity, and candour. 
 The prudence of. the sinner, on the 
 other hand, is a continued duplicity. 
 His lips belie his heart : his counte- 
 nance is the reverse of his sentiments : 
 he considers himself artful, in propor- 
 tion as he is crafty : his whole life is a 
 tissue of hypocrisy and deceit. His 
 prudence, therefore, is always attended 
 with uneasiness, and restraint, because 
 he can never appear in his true cha- 
 racter. 
 
 Lastly, the prudence of the just man 
 is pious, and compassionate. To human, 
 means he adds the practice of virtue, 
 and the advantages of prayer : his 
 hopes of success are grounded on the 
 abundance of his alms, and on the 
 merits of Christian charity ;. he dis- 
 covers in the duties of religion, the 
 principal resource, and only support of
 
 306' Fourth Sunday 
 
 his property. The sinner, on the other 
 hand, considers piety as, an obstacle to 
 his prosperity : he rejects the maxims 
 of religion as incompatible with his 
 worldly prospects : and, if at any time 
 he puts on the appearance of virtue, it 
 is merely external, in order to attain 
 more easily some favourite object which 
 he has in view. 
 
 Thus, continues the Apostle from 
 whom I have taken the heads of this 
 description, the prudence of the just 
 man is a never failing source of peace 
 springing up in his soul. Whereas, 
 the prudence of the world, the pru- 
 dence which cometh not from heaven, 
 but from the corruption of the sinner, 
 is an uninterrupted torrent of fears, of 
 desires, and of disappointments. 
 
 2. The unhappiness of the sinner is 
 occasioned, in the second place, by the 
 pretended evils which prevent his en- 
 joyment of the present time. Could he 
 enjoy the present moment all would be
 
 after Epiphany. 307 
 
 well; but generally his affections are 
 fixed on things which he does not 
 possess ; and his mind is ruffled by 
 every trivial circumstance that thwarts 
 his inclinations. If he has one 
 cause to rejoice, he has others to 
 mourn. If prosperity smile upon him, 
 health is wanting ; if he be in health, 
 prosperity refuses its smiles : if health 
 and prosperity be united, the loss of a 
 friend, disappointments, or anxieties 
 prevent the enjoyment of either : if he 
 possess every means of gratifying his 
 inclinations, and no serious cause 
 of uneasiness intervene, still he is not 
 happy, still there is always something 
 wanting; and so unfortunate is he. in 
 point of temper and disposition, that a 
 trivial, or even an imaginary grievance 
 will throw a gloom over a thousand 
 objects of pleasure, and prevent the en- 
 joyment of all that he possesses. 
 
 How preferable, even in a worldly 
 sense, is the state of the true Chris-
 
 308 Fourth Sunday 
 
 tian ! To him, even in the most trying 
 circumstances, submission to the will 
 of God is an abundant source of qon- 
 solation. "God is sufficiently power- 
 ful," he says, "to support me. It is 
 my duty to allow him to act as he 
 pleases : he has abundant means of sa- 
 tisfying all my wants; and although 
 things may appear desperate in the 
 eyes of men, his power can easily re- 
 dress them : it is his will that I should 
 hope even when there seems to be no 
 room for hope ; for, in proportion as 
 human assistance fails, he will be my 
 protector." 
 
 Another motive for this humble and 
 devout submission on the part of the 
 just man, is the knowledge that he 
 subjects himself to the will of a God 
 who is infinitely wise; of a God who 
 has the best motives for every affliction 
 which he sends ; who beholds the ad- 
 vantages of the different situations in 
 which he places him ; who does no-
 
 after Epiphany, 309 
 
 thing by chance ; and who knows the 
 effects before he adopts the means. If 
 we decided for ourselves, we might 
 reasonably indulge uneasiness*, for we 
 are not sufficiently acquainted with our 
 nature to know what would be best 
 for us. But God regulates events with 
 consummate wisdom, and although his 
 motives are concealed, they are just 
 and adorable. "I ought not," says the 
 true Christian, " to scrutinize his un- 
 searchable ways, with the weak, and 
 confined powers of human understand- 
 ing. I know not where the road will 
 lead tOj in which he has commanded 
 me to walk ; but since he has placed 
 me in it, I will walk on cheerfully, aijd 
 without fear: he frequently leads his 
 faithful servant to the promised land 
 through the dry, and fatiguing paths 
 of the desert ; and generally conceals 
 his motives, in order that he may reap 
 the whole merit of submission." 
 
 He reflects, moreover, that he sub-
 
 310. Fourth Sunday 
 
 jects himself to the will of a tender, 
 and merciful God, who loves him, and 
 who has his salvation only in view. If 
 he chastises him, he knows that it is 
 for his salvation; if he spares him, 
 it is for his salvation; if he hum- 
 bles him, it is for his salvation ; if he 
 exalts him, it is likewise for the same 
 beneficent purpose : in a word, in 
 whatever situation he may be, he 
 knows that he leads him as a tender 
 father ; directs him as a friend ; up- 
 holds him as a protector; and walks 
 before him as a guide to direct him in 
 all his M r ays. He knows that he is a 
 God, whose dispensations to his crea- 
 tures are directed solely by the dictates 
 of mercy, and goodness; that he is a 
 Father, who has no other object but 
 the welfare of his child ; and that 
 he is a friend, who has nothing so 
 much at heart as the interest of him 
 whom he loves. This is honour : 
 this is happiness : Can any condition
 
 after Epiphany. 3 1 1 
 
 on earth be more desirable ? Ah ! if 
 this were the only benefit which piety 
 conferred, the lot of the just, and 
 faithful soul is certainly the most ra- 
 tional, and happy that any one can 
 wish for in this world. 
 
 3. The third source of the unhappi- 
 ness of man is regret for the past. We 
 are too apt? to look back on the mis- 
 fortunes of our past life with sorrow. 
 Had we acted otherwise, we think, we 
 should have avoided all the evils which 
 embitter our days ; or had we seized 
 the advantages which were thrown in 
 our way, we should now be comforta- 
 ble, and happy. The grand science, 
 however, of religion, is to take ad- 
 vantage of the past by contemplating 
 the designs of God over the ways of 
 men. The ancient patriarchs beheld 
 the hand of God in every occurrence ; 
 they meditated on the various paths 
 by which his wisdom conducted them 
 through life ; and were lost in astonish-
 
 312 Fourth Sunday 
 
 ment at the thought of his inscrutable 
 ways. The sacred historians, likewise, 
 had the Deity only in view. They re- 
 present God as the great Disposer of 
 every event; and by them we are 
 taught to consider the various revolu- 
 tions which have agitated the universe, 
 as the history of the designs and in- 
 tentions of God upon men. With the 
 same eye the just man looks back on 
 the history of his past life. He sees 
 no cause to lament any misfortune or 
 loss, however serious or afflicting 
 the consequences may be ; because he 
 knows that all was directed by the will 
 of an all-wise, and merciful Providence. 
 He cannot indeed discover the motives 
 of God, but it is his consolation to 
 reflect, that hereafter he will behold 
 without disguise the adorable ways of 
 providence in the regulation of every 
 circumstance of his life, and admire 
 the wisdom, and goodness, with which 
 he made every thing contribute to his 
 sanctification.
 
 after Epiphany. 3 1 3 
 
 These are the benefits which the just 
 man derives from submission to the 
 will of God. Ah ! my friends, turn 
 yourselves to what side you please, you 
 will never find rest and peace except 
 in submission. You must will what 
 God wills. This is the great secret 
 of Christian piety ; this is the precious 
 treasure of religion ; this is the sub- 
 lime science of the saints. With- 
 out , this, what is man? He is the 
 sport both of his turbulent passi- 
 ons, and of the perpetual vicissitudes 
 of human things. Chained by the 
 corruption of his heart to present en- 
 joyments, with them he is hurried on 
 with rapidity, and like the figures 
 fixed on a wheel which are carried round 
 when it is put in motion, he has never 
 an assured permanence. He inces- 
 santly wishes to be united to creatures, 
 and is incessantly obliged to tear himself 
 from them. He is always supposing that 
 he has attained the place of rest, and is 
 
 VOL. 1. P
 
 314 Fourth Sunday 
 
 continually obliged to recommence his 
 pursuit. He is always weary with his 
 toils, and always drawn again into the 
 vortex. In the midst of these his sorrows 
 and regrets he finds no source of conso- 
 lation; not in the world, for the world 
 is the great cause of all his evils; not 
 in the testimonies of conscience, for 
 this is the seat of remorse ; not in the 
 love of God, for against him he has 
 revolted. He drinks the bitter chalice 
 even to the dregs. In vain does he 
 pour it from one cup into another, says 
 the prophet ; that is, in vain does he 
 seek for pleasure by substituting one 
 passion for another : anxiety, remorse, 
 and bitterness pursue him still in every 
 direction : he changes his situation, 
 but he does not diminish his sufferings, 
 He hath poured it out from this to that, 
 says the royal prophet, but the dregs 
 thereof are not emptied ; all the sinners 
 of the earth shall drink! (Ps. Ixxiv. 
 9.)
 
 after -Epiphany. 3 1 5 
 
 Great God ! why shall not my soul 
 be subjected to thee ? Art Thou such 
 a hard master that there would be dan- 
 ger in leaving my concerns in thy 
 hands ? What have I to fear, if I place 
 my whole dependance on Thee ? Ah ! 
 when I attempted to be myself the 
 director of my affairs, I always failed ; 
 the event never corresponded with my 
 wishes, and endeavours : I succeeded 
 only in forming to myself new anxie- _ 
 ties, and disappointments. Thou didst 
 take a pleasure in destroying the build- 
 ing as fast as I erected it : Thou 
 wouldst teach me, that man endeavours 
 in vain to build the house, unless 
 thy adorable hand support, and raise 
 it. How much more secure is it, my 
 God, to suffer Thee alone to act, 
 and to labour only under thy orders. 
 What disquietudes should I have 
 avoided, if I had been attentive to this 
 duty ! My condition in life would be 
 the same, but my sufferings would not 
 PS
 
 3 16 Fourth Sunday after, 8?c. 
 
 have been the same. I should have en- 
 joyed that peace, to which I have hi- 
 therto been a stranger, and hereafter, 
 that recompense which Thou hast pro- 
 mised to those, who on earth desire 
 only the accomplishment of thy will.
 
 317 
 
 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER THE 
 EPIPHANY. 
 
 ON SALVATION. 
 
 All whatsoever you do in word, or work, 
 do all in the name of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ. . . . . . Col. iii. 17. 
 
 1 HE advice, which 
 the apostle gives in the words of my 
 text, cannot be too frequently incul- 
 cated in these days of irreligion and 
 immorality. The cares and solicitudes 
 of the world so completely engross our 
 thoughts, and its riches and pleasures 
 are so universally the objects of our 
 conversations and actions, that every 
 other thing is disregarded and forgot- 
 ten : so earnestly do we labour for the 
 P 3
 
 318 ' Fifth Sunday 
 
 bread that perisheth, that no time is 
 kftj no solicitude is felt for the acqui- 
 sition of the bread which endureth unto 
 life everlasting. 
 
 In vain does the Church declare that, 
 if we labour exclusively for what passes 
 "with time, our labours are nugatory, 
 and that we are like unto men who 
 spend their time in raising heaps of 
 sand, which roll down again on their 
 heads, in proportion as they increase 
 their height, In vain does the Church' 
 proclaim that one thing only is worthy 
 of our serious attention, namely, the one 
 which will continue with us during the 
 whole term of our existence. We listen 
 eagerly enough to what the world will 
 tell us ; but we never hearken to any 
 of her admonitions. Notwithstanding 
 her remonstrances, we labour for these 
 perishable things with as much zeal, 
 earnestness, and vivacity, as if we were 
 labouring for goods which could never 
 be taken from us : and we labour for
 
 after Epiphany. 319 
 
 the real good things of eternity with as 
 much languor and indifference, as if 
 we were labouring for the things that 
 perish. 
 
 What are the causes of this perver- 
 sity in rational creatures ? We are co n- 
 manded by the apostle to refer all, 
 whatsoever we do in word, or in work, 
 to the glory of God ; and we refer all 
 to the world. We are commanded to 
 make salvation our great, our only 
 concern ; and our great, our only con- 
 cern is our welfare in the world. The 
 investigation of this subject is of the 
 highest importance, and worthy of your 
 most serious consideration. 
 
 1. Salvation is the great, the only 
 business for which we came into this 
 world. Our all for eternity depends 
 on it. We have, properly speaking, no 
 other thing to do on earth. The vari- 
 ous occupations and duties attached to 
 the state of life in which we are placed, 
 P4
 
 320 Fifth Sunday 
 
 are only so many means of attaining 
 this wished for term. 
 
 This is a truth, which no Christian 
 can refuse to believe : and yet, how 
 little is it attended -to! This happy 
 term, to which all our actions ought to 
 be referred, is overlooked and neglect- 
 ed. This principal employment, to 
 which all. others ought to yield, is the 
 last that gains attention. This amia- 
 ble occupation, to which all the conso- 
 lations of heaven, all the sweets of vir- 
 tue are annexed, is called tedious and 
 ' burthensome. 
 
 The cause of this fatal neglect may 
 be easily ascertained. "We are deluded 
 by the pompous names which the world 
 affixes to the enterprises of ambition 
 and vain-glory, and by the honours and 
 titles with which it distinguishes its 
 
 . <o 
 
 successful votaries : we are led to be- 
 lieve that actions thus ennobled and ap- 
 plauded, are truly great, and alone
 
 after Epiphany. 32 1 
 
 worthy of our notice : we admire them ; 
 and in proportion as our admiration of 
 them increases, we entertain a distaste 
 for those more humble exercises the 
 exercises of piety, which have nothing 
 to recommend them but their merit in 
 the sight of God. This is the first 
 cause of the general decay of piety, 
 and of the little solicitude that is felt 
 for the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 Cf 
 
 But, my beloved, how degrading 
 even to reason is this unworthy prefer- 
 ence which is given to the glory of the 
 world ! Yes : h&w degrading even to 
 reason! For, is it not agreeable to 
 every principle of reason, that those ac- 
 tions- should appear the most com- 
 mendable in our sight, which are the 
 most entitled to our admiration, and 
 esteem ? Certainly it is. Now, what 
 is there very commendable in worldly 
 exploits ? They will acquire, it is true, 
 a reputation, and perhaps hand down, 
 the name of the celebrated hero to the.
 
 322' - Fifth Sunday. 
 
 latest posterity. But what is all this ? 
 The monuments of pride and ambition 
 will perish with the world that raised 
 them : the victories and conquests 
 which now shine with such lustre in 
 the page of history, will he effaced 
 from the memory of man, and be bu- 
 ried for ever in oblivion. But it is not 
 so with the works of piety. They are 
 w r orthy of immortality : they will be 
 recorded in the book of life, and sur- 
 vive the wreck of the whole world. 
 The rewards of the one are vain and 
 temporary ; those of the other, infinite 
 and eternal. -The most sublime occu- 
 pations of the one, to which prejudice 
 has affixed high-sounding appellations, 
 are trivial and insignificant ; those of 
 the other, grand and important. Every 
 action of the just man is noble and dig- 
 nified : the object of his love is the 
 Great Author of his existence the 
 Sovereign of the universe : he serves 
 an omnipotent Master : he sighs after
 
 after Epiphany. 323 
 
 eternal possessions : he forms projects 
 for gaining heaven : lie labours for an 
 immortal crown. According to every 
 principle, therefore, of right reason, we 
 ought to acknowledge, that works 
 which have eternity for their object, 
 are the most noble works in which man 
 can be engaged, and that, consequent- 
 ly, they are most entitled to our admi- 
 ration and applause. 
 
 2. Secondly, we are indolent in the 
 great affair of salvation, because we 
 neither make it our principal business, 
 nor give it the preference to our other 
 occupations. We all desire to save our 
 souls : the most abandoned do not re- 
 nounce this consoling hope : we all 
 perform actions, from time to time, 
 which have this object solely in view ; 
 for we know that heaven is , not to be 
 obtained without some efforts on our 
 part. So far we are consistent with our 
 profession of the Christian faith. But 
 the misfortune is, that we dp not pro- 
 P6
 
 324 Fifth Sunday 
 
 ceecl far enough. We do not allow the 
 works of piety to hold that rank among 
 the other occupations of our life to 
 which they are entitled ; and we are 
 deficient in our attention to the few 
 works of this kind that we do per- 
 form. 
 
 A slight inspection into the arrange- 
 ment of your different employments 
 will convince you of this truth. You 
 have stated times in the day allotted 
 for the duties of your state of life, for 
 the concerns of your families, for your ' 
 recreations and pastimes : but what 
 allotment is there for the great business 
 of salvation ? What consideration do 
 you give to that which ought to take 
 place of every other consideration ? 
 Does it even enter into the arrangement 
 of your various employments ? or, if it 
 does, is it not the first that is omitted 
 to give place to any occupation or 
 hurry of business that occurs ? Do 
 you not allow infinitely more to the
 
 after Epiphany. 325 
 
 world, than you do to God ? Some- 
 times, perhaps, you bestow a trifle on 
 the poor : hut what is it, when com- 
 pared with the sums you throw away 
 in idle gratifications, and useless ex- 
 penditure ? You, perhaps, lift up your 
 hands to heaven, and pour forth yotir 
 souls in fervent supplications to the 
 Lord every morning and night : but 
 when these are concluded, does not the 
 world rush in, and engross all your 
 other thoughts? You assist from time 
 to time at the holy mysteries : but is 
 not that act of piety counterbalanced 
 by your subsequent dissipation of 
 mind, and inattention to every other 
 spiritual duty ? You sometimes, per- 
 haps, perform an act of self-denial, pa- 
 tiently endure an affront, forgive an 
 injury, and mortify the sensual appe- 
 tite : but are not these solitary acts, 
 extraordinary occurrences, totally dis- 
 tinct from your common line of con- 
 duct ? You can hardly produce one
 
 326 Fifth Sunday 
 
 action done for heaven, but a thousand 
 may be produced on the other side, 
 which the enemy will claim as done for 
 him. Salvation is a business, to which 
 you attend only at vacant moments : 
 the world, and your temporal pursuits, 
 occupy the far greatest share of your 
 lirne and thoughts. 
 
 But, perhaps, you will say, "how 
 can it possibly be otherwise ? I devote 
 a part of the Sunday to religious exer- 
 cises : I allot to prayer a short time at 
 morning and night ; and more than 
 this I cannot do. My state of life re- 
 quires, that I devote my whole time to 
 business for the support of myself and 
 family." That this may be your state 
 I will not deny : and far be it from me 
 to censure your eagerness to fulfil 
 these duties. But you mistake my 
 meaning : you go upon the supposition 
 that attention to your spiritual con- 
 cerns is incompatible with the occupa- 
 tions attached to the state of life in
 
 after Epiphany. 327 
 
 which Providence has placed you. 
 This is not the truth. Every domestic 
 duty that you perform may, if you 
 please, he made to promote your sanc- 
 tification : every Christian virtue may 
 he practised at the time that your 
 hands are at work. Mortification and 
 penance may be exercised when your 
 employments are laborious and disa- 
 greeable: clemency and justice, when 
 you are in authority over others : sub- 
 mission to the will of God, when suc- 
 cess does not attend your labours, or 
 when any afflicting circumstance befals 
 you : forgiveness of injuries, when you 
 are persecuted, calumniated, or injured 
 either in your person or property : con- 
 fidence in God alone, when you expe- 
 rience injustice or oppression from 
 those above you. 
 
 When, therefore, we say that salva- 
 tion ought to be your only concern, 
 we do not pretend to insinuate that 
 you must neglect your other duties
 
 328 Fifth Sunday 
 
 and abandon every other pursuit. This 
 would he contrary to the designs of 
 God. We only mean to inculcate, that 
 all your actions must be performed 
 with the view of pleasing God ; that 
 they must be sanctified by piety, ani- 
 mated by religion, and regulated by 
 the fear of God; in, a word, that the 
 procuring the salvation of your souls 
 must be the end and motive of them 
 all. Merit or demerit does not ex- 
 clusively arise from the nature of the 
 actions which you perform, but from 
 the dispositions of mind with which you 
 perform them. Application to your 
 temporal .duties will either impede or 
 promote your sanctification according 
 to the spirit with which you are ani- 
 mated. This is the point to which we 
 wish to call your attention : every 
 thing depends on this. But, unhappi- 
 ly, the spirit of piety is a spirit to 
 which the greater-number of Christians 
 are strangers ; and this may be assign-
 
 after Epiphany. 529 
 
 eel as the third cause of your neglect- 
 ing the only means of ensuring your 
 salvation. 
 
 3. You are unacquainted with the 
 true spirit of piety. The world and its 
 vanities have made such deep impres- 
 sions on your minds, that you vainly 
 suppose that there is no other source of 
 enjoyment and delight. You imagine 
 that prayer is attended with no conso- 
 lation ; that retirement is melancholy ; 
 that spiritual reading is dull and insi- 
 pid ; that fasting and self-denial are 
 insupportable, and even prejudicial to 
 health; in a word, virtue appears to as- 
 sume such a forbidding aspect in your 
 eyes, that you shun its embraces ; and, 
 M'hen you fulfil any duties, you fulfil 
 them in as negligent a manner as if 
 they were so many odious debts, which 
 could only be discharged with a bad 
 grace, and as if it were by constraint. 
 
 But, my beloved, this is not the de- 
 scriotion of true virtue; the ideas that
 
 330 Fifth Sunday 
 
 you entertain of it are suggested by 
 your tepidity: the disgust that you 
 feel does not arise from any defect in 
 piety, but from the corruption of your 
 own heart : it is not the chalice of the 
 Lord that is bitter, but it is your taste 
 that is vitiated : to a sick man every 
 thing is loathsome. Were you to cor- 
 rect your failings, you would discover 
 that the yoke of the Lord was light : 
 were you to rectify your taste, which 
 has been depraved by sin, you would 
 experience that the Lord was sweet, 
 you would be convinced that virtue 
 was lovely and charming. 
 
 If words are not sufficient to remove 
 your doubts on this subject, examine 
 farther ; go to the just man : look into 
 his interior : behold with what delight 
 and joy he applies to these irjtsome 
 duties, as you call them : put your 
 questions to him ; ask him, whether 
 his pleasures would be increased were 
 he to intermit his pious exercises, and
 
 - after Epiphany. 33 1 
 
 live, like you, thoughtless and world- 
 ly ? " Ah !" he would immediately re- 
 ply, " how little do you know of the 
 sweets of holiness ! Could you but 
 taste the happiness I enjoy, you would 
 renounce the listless, the insipid, life 
 which you lead. From prayer I have 
 learned to draw whatever can be had 
 of pure and heartfelt satisfaction ; 
 from works of piety, the most enliven- 
 ing glow of pleasure; from constant 
 attention to the presence of God whilst 
 my hands are at work, refreshment in 
 the day of heat, and alacrity and joy 
 even under the oppression of the most 
 trying circumstances." It is from the 
 heart that every pleasure proceeds : that 
 is the seat of all true enjoyment : were 
 your hearts centered in God, you 
 would derive pleasures from the things 
 of God ; but, as long as they 
 are centered in the world, depend 
 upon it, you never can taste any 
 of the sweets of virtue : it is, and
 
 332 Fifth Sunday 
 
 must be necessarily, as long as these 
 are your dispositions, irksome and un- 
 inviting. 
 
 4. The yoke of the Lord appears to 
 be heavy and insupportable likewise on 
 another account, namely, because you 
 are not accustomed to its weight. A 
 -few transient moments, devoted to the 
 great affair of salvation ; a few trivial 
 exercises of piety performed during the 
 day, is the whole of your religion : and 
 when these are fulfilled, you immedi- 
 ately turn from them, as from an insi- 
 pid task, and fly with joy to your 
 worldly pursuits. You allow not suf- 
 ficient time for grace to alleviate the 
 burden : you lose the sweets and con- 
 solations of piety by your impatience 
 and haste. The kine, which the Philis- 
 tines selected to convey the ark of the 
 Lord beyond their frontiers, like those 
 unhappy men who are not accustomed 
 to the yoke of virtue, bellowed, says 
 the scripture, and seemed to groan un-
 
 after Epiphany. 333 
 
 der the weight of that sacred load : 
 whereas the sons of Levi, being habitu- 
 ated, like the just, to the sacred minis- 
 try, carried it with dignity even over 
 the burning sands of thedesart, making 
 the air resound at the same time with 
 their canticles of joy, and praise. The 
 law of the Lord is not burthensome to 
 him who is accustomed to fulfil it : the 
 worldly soul alone, who is not fami- 
 liarized with its holy observances, 
 groans under the lovely weight. When 
 our Saviour assured us that his yoke 
 was sweet, and his burden light, he at 
 the same time commanded us to carry 
 it daily. Habituate yourselves, there- 
 fore, to the hardships of the cross ; arid 
 then, after you have given proofs that 
 you possess the fidelity of the just man, 
 you also will experience the comforts 
 and satisfactions that are within him. 
 
 5. Lastly, the works of piety are irk- 
 some and tedious, because you do not 
 execute them in a proper manner. You
 
 334 Fifth Sunday 
 
 pray, but you pray without devotion : 
 you fast, but you enter not into the 
 spirit of compunction and penance : 
 you refrain from injuring an enemy, 
 but you do not love him as a brother : 
 you approach to the holy table, but you 
 possess not fervour, which alone can 
 impart to you the ineffable consolations 
 
 'of the Holy Ghost. -Jesus Christ, 
 
 my beloved, is not divided. The pleni- 
 tude alone of the law can delight you. 
 The more you retrench from it, the 
 more it will oppress you : the more you 
 endeavour to lighten the weight, the 
 more heavy and fatiguing it , will be. 
 On the other side ; the more you add 
 to it, the more agreeable you will find 
 it: the more austerities you practise, 
 the greater pleasure you will enjoy. 
 The reason is obvious : the imperfect 
 observance of the law is caused by the 
 heart not being entirely divested of its 
 passions ; and a divided heart, which 
 has two objects of 'its love, is necessa-
 
 after Epiphany. 335 
 
 rily, according to the declaration of 
 our Saviour, a kingdom full of inte- 
 rior trouble and disturbance. 
 
 Serve then the Lord with your whole 
 hearts, and you will serve him with joy: 
 give yourselves up to him without re- 
 serve ; make the full sacrifice of all 
 your passions ; fulfil the justice of the 
 Lord with strictness, and it will pour 
 the sweet oil of gladness over your souls. 
 Be not deluded by the supposition that 
 the tears of repentance are always bitter 
 and sorrowful : the sorrow is only ex- 
 terior. The just, like the burning 
 bush of Moses, appear to be surround- . 
 ed by thorns ; but the glory of the 
 Lord is within : you behold their fasts 
 and austerities ; but the holy unction 
 which sweetens them all is concealed 
 from your sight : you witness their si- 
 lence, their retirement, their hatred of 
 the world and its pleasures ; but you 
 behold not the invisible Comforter, who 
 abundantly repays them for every sa-
 
 336 Fifth Sunday 
 
 crifice they offer up to him : in your 
 eyes it seems that they lead a life of 
 melancholy and affliction, it seems that 
 their souls are troubled ; but you see 
 not the delight, the peace, and the se- 
 renity which reign within. Yes, my 
 beloved ; on these chosen vessels of 
 election the Father of mercies, and God 
 of all consolation pours his choicest 
 gifts, not only with a full and bounte- 
 ous hand, but frequently with such pro- 
 fusion, that the soul, unable to endure 
 the plenitude and excess, is obliged to 
 entreat the Lord to restrain the torrent 
 of his favours, and proportion the mea- 
 sure of his gifts to the weakness of his 
 creature. 
 
 Make the experiment, my brethren. 
 Put the fidelity of your God to the 
 test. In this he loves to be tempted. 
 Examine whether we have given an un- 
 faithful representation of his mercies, 
 or whether we attempt to allure the 
 sinner, by holding out false promises
 
 after Epiphany. 337 
 
 to entice him. Examine this : exa- 
 mine it thoroughly : and you will dis- 
 cover, that his gifts are far superior to 
 the description we have given of them. 
 You have already made trial of the 
 world : you have found that it did not 
 correspond with, its promises. It en- 
 gaged to give you pleasures, honours, 
 and happiness ; but you found that un- 
 easiness, solicitude, and pain, was al- 
 ways your unhappy lot. Come then and 
 try, whether God will not be more faith- 
 ful to his word ; whether he has pro- 
 mised more than he will give; whether 
 he will be an ungrateful, inconstant, 
 and capricious master. O God ! how 
 little deserving wouldst thou be of our 
 hearts, if thou wert not more amiable, 
 more faithful, more worthy of our ser- 
 vice than this wretched world ! 
 Make the experiment, my brethren, 
 with sincerity and ardour; and depend 
 upon it, in a short time you will taste 
 of that cup of pleasure, with which 
 VOL. i. Q
 
 338 Fifth Sunday after Epiphqny. 
 
 every just man has been inebriated in 
 this life : and when you have once 
 tasted, you will find the vanities of the 
 world so insipid, your hearts will be so 
 captivated with the desire of drinking 
 deeper of the cup of divine love, that 
 you will never rest until the happy 
 moment arrive, when you will be per- 
 mitted to drink of the torrents of his 
 delights in the heavenly Jerusalem.
 
 SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 THE EPIPHANY. 
 
 ON THE TRUE WORSHIP OF GOD. 
 
 We give thanks to God for you all . . ,;i- 
 being mindful of the work of your 
 faith, and labour, and charity, and 
 of the enduring of the hope of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, before God, and 
 our Father. ... 1 Thess. i. 2, 3. 
 
 JL HE commendations, 
 which the apostle bestows on tlie Thes- 
 salonians in the epistle of this day, ex- 
 press both the sincerity with.which they 
 received the word of God, and the 
 piety with which they fulfilled it : they 
 icere a pattern to all that believed in 
 Macedonia, and Achaia. With humble 
 simplicity they submitted to the law of 
 the gospel ; and, in opposition to the 
 dictates of proud reason, they embraced 
 Q 2
 
 340 SLvth Sunday 
 
 a mode of worship which, till then, 
 was unknown, and which, even at that 
 time, was rejected as folly by the Gen- 
 tile, and as scandal by the Jew.- They 
 captivated their understanding to the 
 obedience of faith; and so perfectly 
 did they serve the living and true God 
 in spirit and truth, and so widely was 
 the fame of their faith spread over the 
 Church, that it was unnecessary for the 
 apostle to speak any thing. 
 
 Happy, my beloved friends, should 
 we be, if, like the apostle, we could 
 commend the humble and enlightened 
 simplicity of Christians of the present 
 times ; if, like him, we could say, that 
 we were mindful of the work of their 
 faith, and labour, and charity, and of 
 the enduring of the hope of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ before God and our Father. 
 
 But it is too true, that although 
 
 the necessity of paying due homage to 
 the Lord of Glory is acknowledged by 
 all, there are few who pay it with sin-
 
 * I *** 
 
 after Epiphany. 34 1 
 
 cerity and truth. Some contend 
 that the true worship of God is purely 
 interior, and that the exterior observ- 
 ances of religion are unnecessary and 
 useless. Others fall into the opposite 
 extreme, and place such undue reliance 
 on the observance of exterior duties, 
 as to neglect the essential property of 
 religion, which consists in the interior 
 purification of the heart. These dan- 
 gerous, but prevalent opinions, I will 
 combat in this discourse. In the first 
 place, I will prove that piety must ne- 
 cessarily extend to the exterior observ- 
 ances of religious worship ; and second- 
 ly, that piety consists not in exterior 
 observances alone, but must extend 
 to the right government of the pas- 
 sions, and to the removal of every 
 defilement from the heart. 
 
 1. True worship, I acknowledge, 
 such as is performed by the angels and 
 saints in heaven, is purely interior. 
 This is the religion of the just who are 
 
 Q3
 
 Sixth Sunday 
 
 gone before us with" the sign of faith. 
 But during our abode on earth, the 
 ministry of the exterior senses is indis- 
 pensable: visible objects are required 
 to awaken our faith, to inflame our 
 love, to cherish our hope, and to ex- 
 cite our attention. This system of re^ 
 ligious worship is the only one adapted 
 to our present state. For this reason 
 Abel offered sacrifices ; Enos invoked 
 the name of the Lord with exterior 
 ceremony ; the Patriarchs erected al- 
 tars ; and under the law, religious prac- 
 tices and observances were multiplied 
 exceedingly. When the new law was 
 established the law of grace and love, 
 the number of these observances was 
 diminished, but exterior religion was 
 not abolished : even a G od became vi- 
 sible amongst us, in order to insinuate 
 himself into our hearts by means of the 
 .senses: and the great sacrifice perpe- 
 tuated on bur altars under mystical 
 and visible signs, was intended to be
 
 after Epiphany. 343 
 
 the consolation and exercise of pur ' 
 piety, even to the consummation of 
 the world. 
 
 Nevertheless, because it is acknow- 
 ledged that the worship of God essen- 
 tially depends on the heart, the world 
 presumes to infer that exterior observ- 
 ances are superstitious and unneces- 
 sary ; and that a man may be moral, 
 upright, sincere, generous, and con- 
 sequently acceptable in the sight of 
 God, without all that display of reli- 
 gion, without that fasting and absti- 
 nence, which only tends to impair the 
 health, and without that scrupulous 
 exactitude in fulfilling certain exercises 
 of devotion, which the cloister, and 
 not the apostles, introduced into the 
 Church; or in other words, the wis- 
 dom of the world objects against exte- 
 rior observances of piety, on account 
 of their pretended inutility, their sim- 
 plicity, and the many abuses to which 
 they are liable. 
 
 Q4
 
 344 Sixth Sunday 
 
 "In the first place, the world pretends 
 that the exterior duties prescribed by 
 religion are useless and unnecessary, 
 because they do not contribute to the 
 purification of the heart. This erro- 
 neous principle may be easily refuted. 
 But before I proceed I will ask, where 
 is the man who, at the time that he 
 rejects the exterior part of religion, is 
 scrupulously exact in the performance 
 of the interior part, which alone, accord- 
 ing to him, is essential ? Where is the 
 man, whose heart is sincerely devoted 
 to God, at the time that he is exte- 
 riorly devoted to the world ? Who 
 will dare to say, that he is contrite, 
 humble, penitent, and-absorpt in God, 
 at the time that he is immersed in 
 worldly pleasures ? Ah J the man who 
 has once acquired the interior spirit of 
 piety, .-never will dispute the necessity 
 of exterior observances. The sacri- 
 fice of the passions is the only difficul- 
 ty in a spiritual life; and when that
 
 after Epiphany. 345 
 
 sacrifice is completed, the exterior ex- 
 ercises of religion are easy and agree- 
 able, are readily acknowledged to be 
 indispensable. 
 
 But let us proceed in the refutation. 
 The same law, which commands us to 
 believe with the heart, commands us 
 likewise to confess with our lips, and to 
 give public and avowed testimonies of 
 our faith and piety : First, in order to 
 return glory to God, to whom we be- 
 long, and to acknowledge openly that 
 he alone is worthy of our homage and 
 adoration : secondly, in order to avoid 
 the crime of ingratitude, which would 
 attend the concealment of the hea- 
 venly blessings with which he favours 
 us : thirdly, in order to be free from 
 the imputation of detaining the truth 
 in injustice, and of behaving with a 
 tfmidity unworthy of the majesty of 
 the God whom we serve : fourthly, in 
 order to edify our brethren, and ani- 
 mate them to virtue by oui example ; 
 
 '
 
 346 Sixth Sunday 
 
 fifthly, in order to encourage the 
 weak, and enable them to withstand the 
 influence of public derisions by the 
 display of our own magnanimity : - 
 sixthly, in order to make reparation, by 
 the odour of a good life, for the scan- 
 dal which our past misconduct has oc- 
 casioned : seventhly, in order to 
 comfort the just, and to induce them 
 to bless -the riches of the mercies of 
 God, which are manifested in our 
 conversion : lastly, in order to con- 
 found the enemies of religion, and 
 oblige them to confess that true virtue 
 
 is still to be found v on earth. These 
 
 are the good effects produced by the 
 exterior exercises .of piety; and that 
 they are indispensable is tacitly ac- 
 knowledged even by those who declaim 
 against them. For, were the servants 
 of God to adopt the manners and cus- 
 toms of the world, were they to con- 
 fine their religious duties within the 
 same circle as the declared worldling,
 
 after Epiphany. 347 
 
 they would be the first to ridicule and 
 censure them : " If heaven is to be 
 gained at that price," they would say, 
 " we ourselves may expect to be 
 saints." Thus do they contradict their 
 own sentiments, and out of their own 
 mouths do they condemn themselves. 
 Luke xix. 22. -y^ 
 
 The wisdom of the world, in the se- 
 cond place, objects against exterior 
 worship, on account of the pretended 
 simplicity and insufficiency of its ob- 
 servances. This regular frequentation 
 of the sacraments, it is said, these set 
 times for prayer, this eagerness in pro- 
 moting pious undertakings, this zeal 
 in extending the knowledge of the true 
 faith, this respect for the laws of the 
 Church, this exactness in performing 
 certain pious exercises, these, and 
 such like, it is said r are fit only for 
 those bigoted and narrow minds, who 
 cannot attain to that genuine piety,, 
 Q6
 
 348 Sixth Sunday 
 
 which is centered in the heart, and 
 which alone is worthy of man, and ac- 
 ceptable to God. 
 
 But, my beloved friends, may we not 
 again ask these philosophic Christi- 
 ans, whether this pretended dignity 
 and elevation of sentiment, which they 
 claim exclusively to themselves, and 
 which induces them to despise the 
 humble and simple exercises of exte- 
 rior piety, be not too frequently de- 
 based by the irregularity of their own 
 conduct, and by the mean passions 
 which they indulge? Ah ! true it is, 
 that the greater number of them are 
 addicted to the most humiliating, the 
 most degrading vices : they are pas- 
 sionate even to excess, and vain even 
 to childishness ; they are elated by the 
 least trifle, and depressed by the slight- 
 est contradiction ; they are guided by 
 the instinct of the senses, like the ani- 
 mals of the field, and they exhibit no- 
 thing in their conduct that is either
 
 after Epiphany. 349 
 
 truly great, truly exalted, or truly wor- 
 thy of the sublimity and powers of 
 reason. These, nevertheless, are the 
 men who proclaim, that the exercises of 
 exterior piety are calculated, only for 
 weak rnmds* 
 
 True greatness depends on the ac- 
 quisition of an unrestrained power over 
 the sensual appetites and desires, and 
 on the exercise of a supreme dominion 
 over the rebellious passions and cor- 
 rupt inclinations. Without this, there 
 is no true greatness : and this is to be 
 found only in that society, which is as 
 much overlooked and despised, as if it 
 possessed none of the qualities Ayhich 
 do honour to the dignity of human na- 
 ture. Behold the just man : with 
 what sincerity does he pardon the most 
 poignant, the most malicious injuries ! 
 with what fervour does he pray for 
 those who hate and calumniate him ! 
 with what horror does he avoid even the 
 appearance of evil ! In, religion, in-
 
 350 Sixth Sunday 
 
 deed, he is simple, docile, and hum- 
 ble; and he even glories in his humble 
 obedience and simplicity. He is pru r 
 'dent, like the serpent, with respect to 
 evil; Jbut he ! is simple, like the dove,, 
 with respect to God. These are vir- 
 tues by which he alone is character- 
 ized ; and these are virtues which must 
 be united in the same breast, in order 
 to form the perfect man. They, on 
 the other, hand, who depreciate his me- 
 rits, are the sport of the meanest and 
 most contemptible passions : they are 
 reeds which are shaken by every wind. 
 In religious duties alone they pretend 
 to greatness of soul. They are heroes 
 in their opposition against God ; but 
 in their conflicts with themselves, they 
 are pusillanimous in the highest de- 
 gree. 
 
 The last objection which is urged 
 against exterior worship is taken from 
 the abuses with w r hich it is too fre- 
 quently accompanied. To this I
 
 after Epiphany. 351 
 
 will reply, that abuses ought to be 
 avoided, and that their existence 
 
 throws no reproach on piety itself.- 
 
 However, on account of the frequency 
 of abuses in the exterior part of divine 
 worship, I will call your attention to 
 them in the second part of my dis- 
 course. 
 
 2. Although the exterior works of 
 piety are profitable, as I have demon- 
 strated above, this is only to be under- 
 stood when they are accompanied with 
 that spirit of faith and love, without 
 which the flesh profiteth nothing. 
 
 The sanctification of the heart is the 
 principal object of every religious 
 duty : if that end be not promoted, our 
 piety is vain. In the sight of God, 
 our only distinguishing characteristic 
 is the heart : we are acceptable to Him 
 only inasmuch as we love Him : our 
 actions, our desires, our affections are 
 agreeable to Him only inasmuch as 
 they are referred to Him, The works,
 
 352 Sixth Sunday 
 
 which are performed without these dis- 
 positions, are unworthy of the Supreme 
 Being ; and before Him are no more 
 than as the sound of brass, or the tink- 
 ling of a cymbal. 
 
 Reliance, however, on exterior 
 works alone, divested of the interior . 
 spirit of faith and love, is an abuse 
 which is almost universally diffused. 
 Some people apply themselves se- 
 dulously to works of mercy, are affect- 
 ed at the sight of others woes, relieve 
 their distresses, and never fail to dis- 
 tribute alms according to their abili- 
 ties. This undoubtedly is praise-wor- 
 thy, aiid consonant with the precepts 
 of the gospel. But they imagine, that 
 this is the whole of their duty. They 
 conclude that, because charity covereth 
 a multitude of sins, the animosities, the 
 'dislikes, the detractions, and calumnies 
 to which they are habituated, will not 
 be imputed to them. Others regularly 
 attend at the celebration of the di-
 
 after Epiphany. 353 
 
 vine mysteries, frequent the sacraments 
 at stated timeSj are exact in the per- 
 formance of their morning and evening 
 devotions, and perhaps devote a few 
 moments to prayer at other times in 
 the day. All this is undoubtedly lau- 
 dable, and even in some degree neces- 
 sary. But they erroneously suppose, 
 that the whole of piety consists in the 
 regular performance of these exterior 
 duties of religion without any other 
 addition : thev serve the Lord faith- 
 
 V 
 
 fully with their lips, but their hearts 
 are far removed from him. At the time 
 that they are offering up their supplica- 
 tions to heaven, they are devoted to 
 the world and its pleasures ; they are 
 unmortified in their affections, and 
 strangers to self-denial : they are 
 more intent on the acquisition of the 
 mammon of this world r than on the 
 acquisition of a store of good works: 
 they look forward with more plea- 
 sure to worldly enjoyments, than to the
 
 354- Sixth Sunday 
 
 eternal happiness of the heavenly Je- 
 rusalem. This is certainly a delusion, 
 and a delusion of the most dangerous 
 kind. The scripture informs us, that 
 the voice of the Lord must be obeyed, 
 (1 Kings xv.) : and that heaven is to 
 be gained only by fulfilling his holy 
 will, (Matt. vii. 21.) If therefore they 
 neglect to subdue their passions, to 
 renounce vanity, and to live a truly 
 Christian life, they neglect the essenti- 
 als of religion : they do no* more than 
 display the outward show of piety like 
 the Pharisees, and like them they may 
 be called whitened sepulchres, (Matt, 
 xxiii. 27.) richly ornamented on the 
 outside with religious inscriptions and 
 devices, and decorated with the figures 
 of faith, of piety, of justice, and of 
 mercy; but within, defiled with rotten- 
 ness and corruption. 
 
 In our intercourse with the world> 
 we place little confidence in the verbal 
 professions of esteem^ or friendship : we
 
 after Epiphany. 355 
 
 are little affected by the officious at- 
 tentions of those whom we know to 
 be our enemies in private: we are at- 
 tached only to those who favour us* 
 with a, mutual attachment. And can 
 we suppose that He, who calls himself 
 a jealous God, the God of the heart; 
 can we suppose that He will be satis- 
 fied with exterior homage alone ? Can 
 we suppose that He has less discern- 
 ment than men, and that He does not 
 perceive the hypocrisy of our homage, 
 and adoration ? 
 
 How inconsistent even with the ideas 
 of human wisdom, is the confidence 
 which the abuse of piety inspires ! 
 and yet nothing is more common, and 
 nothing is more prejudicial to the sal- 
 vation of its unhappy victims. Aban- 
 doned wickedness is frequently succeed- 
 ed by repentance : the remorse and anx- 
 iety which haunt the conscience of the 
 depraved libertine, frequently awake 
 him from his sinful lethargy, and
 
 356 Sixth Sunday 
 
 pose his mind to embrace a reform of 
 life. But trje regular, and exact fulfil- 
 ment of the exterior duties of religion 
 calms the conscience, and forms, as it 
 were, a cloud over the soul. The de- 
 luded Christian is neither alarmed, 
 nor excited to repentance by the view 
 of his frailties and defects ; because he 
 relies with thoughtless security on the 
 mass of unprofitable good works which 
 he has accumulated. The confidence, 
 with which he is inspired by this sup- 
 posed treasure, fixes his soul in a state 
 of dreadful tranquillity, out of which, 
 in all probability, he will never be 
 awakened. ' Thus it was with the Jew- 
 ish people. They were strict observers 
 of the external works of the law, and 
 they persevered in their iniquities even 
 to the end. The prophets, whom the 
 Lord raised up from time to time, en- 
 'deavoured with the greatest earnest- 
 ness to undeceive them on this subject. 
 Confide not, they said, in the multi-
 
 after Epiphany . 357 
 
 tude of your victims and offerings. 
 Trust not in your works, and legal ob- 
 servances. The Lord requires, before 
 all other things, a pure heart, a sincere 
 repentance, a cessation from sin, a true 
 love of his commandments, a holy and 
 innocent life : rend your hearts, and 
 not your garments, and take away evil 
 out of the midst of you. Their remon- 
 strances, nevertheless, were ineffectual: 
 the temple, the altar, the .sacrifices 
 gave them confidence, and closed their 
 eyes to their injustices, their fornica- 
 tions, and defilements. On other oc- 
 casions, when they had fallen into ido- 
 latry, and had openly rejected the God 
 of their forefathers, the prophets re-, 
 claimed them with ease v ; but when 
 they were strict observers of the law, 
 remonstrances were in vain : they 
 thought that they were perfect, and 
 would not believe that more was re-, 
 quired of them. On the same account, 
 publicans and sinners were converted
 
 358 Sixth Sunday 
 
 by the preaching of Christ; but the 
 Pharisees, the men who resemble 
 these half Christians, who were at the 
 same time worldly and devout, who 
 united the exercises of piety with the 
 pleasures, the maxims, the passions, 
 and the excesses of the world, were 
 not converted, but died without com- 
 punction, in the same manner as they 
 had lived, without apprehension or 
 fear. 
 
 Ah ! if the precepts of the Christian 
 religion extended no farther than to ex-, 
 terior duties, never would a pagan 
 writer have declared that their sublimi- 
 ty and perfection surpassed the powers 
 of human nature. Exterior duties are 
 performed with little or no difficulty. 
 Easy would be the acquisition of hea- 
 ven, if nothing more was required. 
 The sublimity of the Christian rule con- 
 sists in the interior duties which it 
 exacts : in the renunciation of self- 
 will in the regulation of the passions
 
 after Epiphany. 359 
 
 in the forgiveness of injuries in the 
 love of the most inveterate enemies- 
 in the government of the tongue in 
 meekness, patience, and resignation 
 under the severest trials in the exer- 
 cise of universal charity and above 
 all, in the decided preferment of the 
 will of God on all occasions, before all 
 the pleasures and vanities of the world. 
 These are the difficulties of a 
 Christian life : these constitute its sub- 
 limity and perfection : these inspired 
 the heathens with the highest ideas of 
 the sanctity, the dignity, the wisdom 
 of the moral code of Jesus Christ. 
 Whereas exterior works alone, instead 
 of being sublime, are vain and trifling; 
 and instead of re-pressing the ardour of 
 self-love, they increase it, and are on 
 this very account performed by many, 
 whilst the essential duties of religion 
 are neglected. This is the last abuse 
 which I shall remark. 
 
 Exterior works are good and neces-
 
 360 Sixth Sunday 
 
 sary, as I have already demonstrated ; 
 but it is criminal to give them the 
 preference before the more indispensa- 
 ble obligations. This abuse is very 
 common: many Christians, who pro- 
 fess to live in the fear of God, perform 
 extraordinary works of virtue, through 
 no other motive, than because their va- 
 nity is flattered by the public approba- 
 tion which they receive; and at the 
 same time neglect the more humble 
 duties, because they have nothing to 
 recommend them but their merit in 
 the eyes of the Supreme Being. ' Thus, 
 ' for example, they distribute their lar- 
 gesses to the poor, and without scru- 
 ple defer the restitutions which the 
 law of God requires at their hands. 
 They spend that time in prayer which 
 ought to be devoted to their domestic 
 concerns. They effect reconciliations 
 between contending neighbours, and 
 cause dissensions at home by their own 
 capricious deportment. They conde-
 
 after Epiphany t 36*1 
 
 scene! to visit and console the poor af- 
 flicted members of Christ, and refuse 
 to make the least advances to their 
 own enemy, in order to induce him to 
 
 " 
 
 a reconciliation, and to gain him over 
 to Christ. They impose on them- 
 selves a daily task, consisting of a 
 variety of prayers, and with the same 
 tongue, with which they praise the 
 Lord, they wound the reputation of 
 their neighbour by backbiting and de- 
 traction : thus demonstrating that 
 their religion is vain, and that they de- 
 ceive themselves. 
 
 True piety requires that, in the first 
 place, all the obligations peculiar to 
 your state and condition * in life be 
 fulfilled. If you build not on this 
 foundation, your works are dead, and, 
 like stubble, destined only for the fire. 
 The essence of a truly Christian life 
 consists in the faithful performance of 
 every duty. When these are complet- 
 ed; then you may acquire merit from 
 
 VOL. i. R
 
 Sixth Sunday 
 
 extraordinary works of virtue. But 
 you must never prefer the unnecessary 
 before the indispensable, your own 
 caprice before the law -of God, or the 
 chimerical perfection of piety before 
 piety itself. 
 
 Avoid, therefore, with care, the two 
 fatal rocks which I have described ; 
 neglect not the exterior observances 
 of religion, and confine not your piety 
 to them alone. True and solid virtue 
 always keeps the just and equitable 
 
 medium : caprice alone adopts ex- 
 
 .\ . 
 
 tremes. Far be it from you to at- 
 tempt to make any improvements in 
 religion : piety is rational and sub- 
 lime, provided you leave it in its pre- 
 sent state: but if you pretend to pu- 
 rify it by the fancies of your own 
 imagination, you will cause it to de- 
 generate either into a philosophic 
 piety, which affords no consolatory en- 
 couragement to the mind, or into a 
 blind and superstitious zeal, which
 
 after Epiphany. 363 
 
 reason despises, ancj which pure reli- 
 gion disavows and condemns. 
 
 Let us all unite, my beloved, and by 
 our strict attention to every social, 
 domestic, and religious duty, convince 
 the world that piety.is not the offspring 
 of weakness or caprice, but that it is 
 the only proper rule of conduct, the on- 
 ly preserver of order, the only orna- 
 ment of reason, and the only wisdom 
 which ennobles the mind of man. Let 
 us enter into the spirit of the maxims 
 of our holy religion ; and let us extort 
 the confession even from the enemies 
 of our holy faith, that piety alone can 
 give dignity and elevation to our sen- 
 timents ; and that no people are so 
 mean and puerile, as they who are 
 guided and enslaved by their passions. 
 
 Let us exalt piety to honour, by 
 
 leaving it in possession of its divine 
 and amiable qualities its meekness 
 its equity its wisdom its excellence 
 its equanimity its disinterestedness 
 R2
 
 364 Sixth Sunday after Epiphany. 
 
 its sublimity. Men, prejudiced as 
 they are, will soon unite their suffrages 
 in its favour, when they behold it in 
 its true state, divested of our weak- 
 nesses and defects. Thus shall we 
 
 cause the name of the Lord to be prais- 
 ed even by those who know him not : 
 and then we may reasonably hope to be 
 united with them hereafter in a blissful 
 immortality.
 
 ON THE SMALL NUMBER OF THE 
 ELECT. 
 
 Many are called, but few are chosen. 
 
 Matt. xx. 16. 
 
 tl'-ifv,v ' ni^ ,;/.uv 1 
 
 1 HIS, my beloved 
 brethren, is a sentence, which is seldom 
 reflected on with that serious attention 
 which its importance requires. It is 
 generally supposed that salvation is 
 attainable at a much easier rate than 
 we represent it to be; and that the 
 number of the elect far surpasses the 
 number of the reprobate. But the 
 words of my text declare, that many 
 are called, but few are chosen. 
 
 RS
 
 36'6 Septuagesirtia. 
 
 Were it my intention to'strike terror 
 into your minds, instead of consulting 
 your improvement by instruction, I 
 would in this discourse enumerate the 
 alarming examples, with which the 
 scriptures are filled on this subject : I 
 would tell you, that the prophet 
 Isaias compares the small number of 
 elect to the few bunches of grapes, 
 which escape the eye of the vintager ; 
 to the few ears of corn, which chance 
 only preserves from the sickle of the 
 reaper. I would tell you, in the words 
 of God himself, that there are two 
 paths ; the one, narrow, rugged, 
 strewed with thorns, and frequented 
 by very few ; the other> broad, spa- 
 cious, adorned with flowers, and trod- 
 den by the far greater part of man- 
 kind. I would tell you, that the gos- 
 pel unreservedly declares, that perdi- 
 tion is the fate of the multitude, and 
 that the number of the elect bears no
 
 Septuagesima. 367 
 
 comparison with the number of the re- 
 probate. 
 
 But what profit would you reap from 
 this discourse, were I to confine my 
 observations to this subject alone? 
 You would be informed of the danger, 
 and you would not be acquainted with 
 the means of escape. You would be- 
 hold the sword of God's wrath lifted 
 over your heaoX and you would not 
 be empowered to avert the stroke. 
 Your peace of mind would be de- 
 stroyed, and you would not discover 
 the irregularities of your moral con- 
 duct. 
 
 For your instruction, therefore, I 
 will examine the causes why the num- 
 of the elect is so small, I will apply 
 the subject individually to yourselves, 
 and examine the foundation, on which 
 your hopes of salvation are established. 
 Banish all foreign thoughts from your 
 minds, and attend solely to my words. 
 The subject is important, if any sub- 
 R4
 
 368 Septuagesima. 
 
 ject can be so : and more immediately 
 relating to the concerns of your real, and 
 immortal welfare than 'any thing, I be- 
 lieve, that has ever before occupied 
 your attention. 
 
 1. The elect of God will be com- 
 posed of people of two different de- 
 scriptions ; of those who have been so 
 happy as to preserve their innocence 
 spotless, and undefiled by mortal sin ; 
 -r and of those who have regained their 
 lost innocence by suitable works of 
 penance. These are the elect. Heaven 
 is open only to the innocent, and to 
 the truly penitent. Now, my bre- 
 thren; of which description are you? 
 Are you of the number of the inno- 
 cent ? or are you of the number of the 
 penitent ? Faith assures you, that no- 
 thing defiled can enter heaven. You 
 must, consequently, either have avoid- 
 ed every defilement, or your defilements 
 must have been washed away by sincere 
 repentance. The first is a privilege
 
 Septuagesima. 36$ 
 
 which is enjoyed by very few ; and the 
 second requires a grace, which, in the 
 present general relaxation of morals and 
 discipline, is either seldom received, or 
 seldom corresponded with. 
 
 In those happy times, when the 
 Church was an assembly of saints, few 
 of the faithful, who had been cleansed 
 by the laver of regeneration, and had 
 received the Holy Ghost, relapsed into 
 their former ways. Ananias and Sap- 
 phira were the only prevaricators we 
 read of in the church of Jerusalem : 
 one incestuous man only is recorded 
 to have dishonoured the church of 
 Corinth. Seldom was it necessary to 
 subject a disciple to the rigours of 
 canonical penance : or at least, the 
 number of lepers, who were -banished 
 from the presence of the altar, and 
 separated from the society of their 
 brethren, was very small in comparison 
 J_with the rest of the faithful. 
 
 But those times are elapsed ; and 
 
 R5
 
 370 Septuagesima. 
 
 great is . the change that has taken 
 place. The gospel, indeed, has ex- 
 tended its empire, but the reign of 
 piety is confined within narrower 
 boundaries : the number of believers 
 is increased, but the number of the 
 just is diminished : the world is the 
 same now as it was from the beginning, 
 corrupt and profligate ; its conversion 
 to the faith has produced no change ia 
 its manners and customs ; when it en- 
 tered the Church, it introduced like- 
 wise its immorality and pEofaneness* 
 Yes, my beloved, true it is that the 
 land, even the land of Christianity, is 
 infected by the corruption of its inr 
 habitants : all work iniquity, and sel- 
 dom is there one who does good. Inr 
 justice, calumny, lying, adultery, and 
 crimes of the blackest hue lay waste 
 ithe fair inheritance of Christ : hatreds 
 are perpetual ; reconciliations are sel- 
 dom sincere ; an enemy is seldom lov- 
 ed : detractions, and censures on the
 
 Septuagesima. 371 
 
 conduct of others, are indulged on all 
 occasions : and the gifts, which God 
 intended for the support of the corpo- 
 ral frame, are abused by excesses too 
 shameful for description. All 
 states and conditions have corrupted 
 their ways* The poor murmur against 
 the rich : the ricli forget the author of 
 their abundance i the great seem to 
 exist only for themselves, and licenti- 
 ousness is made the privilege of their 
 independent station. Even the lamps 
 of Jacob are extinguished : the salt 
 has lost its savour: the priest has be- 
 come like unto the people. Behold, my 
 brethren, the state of Christianity. And, 
 my God J is this thy Church, thy 
 Spouse, thy beloved inheritance? Is 
 this thy delightful vineyard, the ob- 
 ject of thy tenderest care ? Ah ! more 
 heinous, or more enormous crimes were 
 not committed in Jerusalem, when* 
 thou pronouncedst against it the sen- 
 tence of its condemnation, 
 
 R6.
 
 372 Septuagesima. 
 
 Thus, one gate- the gate of inno- 
 cence, is irrevocably shut against us. 
 We have all gone astray. There, pro- 
 bably, was a time, when sin defiled 
 the heart of every individual of this 
 assembly. The impetuosity of the 
 passions has perhaps subsided in some : 
 the world, perhaps, is become disgust- 
 ing to others : grace, perhaps, has 
 wrought the conversion of others : but 
 there probably was a period, which we 
 all look back upon with regret, and 
 would gladly consent that it were for 
 ever blotted out of the history of our 
 lives. 
 
 But why do I lose my time in at- 
 tempting to prove the loss of our bap- 
 tismal innocence ? We know that we 
 are sinners : we dread the scrutinizing 
 eye of an omniscient God ; and we 
 have too much reason to fear that he 
 beholds innumerable stains even in that 
 part of our lives which appears to us 
 unsullied by any crime. It is in vain,
 
 Septuagesima. 373 
 
 therefore, to claim heaven on the score 
 of innocence : consequently, there is 
 only one road to salvation left, which 
 is that of penance. After the ship- 
 wreck of sin, this is the only plank, 
 say the holy Fathers, that can save us. 
 
 2. Now let me ask, where are the 
 penitents in 'this assembly ? Are their 
 numbers considerable? There are 
 more, said a holy Father, who have 
 never lost their baptismal innocence, 
 than have recovered it again by true 
 repentance. A dreadful sentence, my 
 dear brethren ; but, I hope, not too 
 strictly to be enforced, how_ever re- 
 spectable the authority. We will not 
 run into extremes. There are sufficient 
 motives for alarm in the exposition of 
 the known truth, without adding to 
 them by unnecessary declamations. 
 Let us only examine, whether the 
 greater number of us have any right to 
 expect eternal happiness on the score 
 of repentance. "
 
 374 Septuagesima. 
 
 In the first place, what is a penitent? 
 A penitent, says Tertullian, is one 
 who, every hour, calls to mind in the 
 bitterness of his soul the sins of his 
 past life : who takes part with the jus- 
 tice of God against himself, and re- 
 nounces innocent pleasures in order to 
 atone for the criminal excesses which he 
 formerly committed. A penitent is one, 
 who treats his body, as an obstinate 
 enemy,-* as a rebel, whom he must bring 
 into subjection, as a dishonest debtor, 
 from whom he must exact the last 
 farthing. A penitent is one, who con- 
 siders himself as a malefactor con- 
 demned by the justice of God to death, 
 and is convinced tjiathis only portion in 
 jthis life ought to be sufferings and 
 contempt. A penitent is one, who is 
 ready to submit to the loss of health 
 and property, as to the just privations 
 of blessings which he has criminally 
 abused ; to crosses and afflictions, as 
 to a punishment due to him on account
 
 Septuagesima. 375 
 
 v i ' 
 
 of his transgressions ; to corporal 
 .pains, as to a foretaste of the eternal 
 torments which his sins have deserved. 
 ~- This is the description of a true 
 penitent. Now let me ask ; where are 
 the men in this assembly who answer 
 this description ? 
 
 Are they prostrate in the porch of 
 the temple ? Are they covered with 
 sackcloth, and ashes ? Do they suppli- 
 cate the brethren, who are entitled to 
 enter the sa>nctuary, to offer up their, 
 prayers to the Father of mercies, in 
 their behalf? Have they spent whole 
 years in the exercises of prayer, of 
 fasting, of mortification, and of other 
 penitential austerities ? Are they ex- 
 cluded from the Church, and forbidr 
 den to assist at the celebration of the 
 tremendous mysteries ? Are they treat- 
 ed as the outcast of men, and deprived 
 of every cons-olation but that of their 
 tears and repentance? This at least was 
 the course of atonement prescribed to
 
 376 Septuagesima. 
 
 the ancient penitents, and scrupulously 
 fulfilled by them. 
 
 I admit that the Churcfi has, long 
 since, authorized a relaxation of this 
 discipline; and my motive for hinting 
 at the severities of those times, was not 
 to lead you into a supposition that the 
 observance of them was still necessary, 
 or to cast reflections on the mild con- 
 descension of the Church in abolishing 
 them ; but to stigmatize the general 
 corruption of the Christian world which 
 rendered the abolition necessary. Ex* 
 ternal discipline must be accommo- 
 dated to the manners and customs of 
 the times. But although laws framed 
 by men are liable to change, the laws 
 of penance are founded on the gospel, 
 and can never change We may satisfy 
 the Church without the rigours of 
 public penance ; but we cannot satisfy 
 either the Church, or God, unless by 
 our private penance we make full 
 atonement for our crimes.
 
 Septuagcsima. 377 
 
 Now, my brethren, what is your pri- 
 vate penance ? Is it proportionate to 
 the penance of the primitive Christians ? 
 Is it proportionate to the number, 
 and the enormity of your sins ? You 
 perhaps may say, that you endure the 
 cares and anxieties inseparable from 
 your state of life : that solicitude for 
 the present and future well-being of 
 yourselves, and families, embitters your 
 days : that you labour from morning 
 till night, and that, in spite of all your 
 endeavours, you are frequently the vic- 
 tims of want, of wretchedness, of infir- 
 mities, and of numberless other evils. 
 This, perhaps, may be true. But do 
 you submit to these trials with a truly 
 Christian spirit, without murmurings, 
 without complaints? Do you submit 
 to them in the spirit of penance, and 
 offer them up to God as an atonement 
 for your sins ? If not, they will be found 
 deficient in the scales of unerring jus- 
 tice; and they will not be entitled to
 
 378 Septuagesima. 
 
 a reward. But supposing that you did 
 not offend in any of these points ; 
 would you rank in the number of pe- 
 nitents ? Would nothing more be re- 
 quired of -you? Your merit, I allow, 
 would be great. You would offer up an 
 acceptable sacrifice of atonement to the 
 justice of God. But would his justice 
 be completely satisfied ? The primitive 
 Christians endured the ordinary trials 
 of life with patience ; and in addition, 
 submitted to all the rigours of canoni- 
 cal penance : and yet did not do too 
 much. Can your reconciliation be 
 effected by easier means ? Are not vo- 
 luntary mortifications in private re- 
 quired of you ? You know that the 
 penance of every individual must be 
 proportionate to his guilt : and can 
 you reasonably entertain hopes of sal- 
 vation, when your own penance is not 
 regulated according to this maxim ? 
 Oh \ be not deceived. , The ways of re- 
 pentance are far more painful than you
 
 Septuagesima. 379 
 
 imagine : the road to heaven presents 
 far greater difficulties to the sinner, 
 than you have hitherto experienced. 
 This is the real truth : and yet you 
 spend your days in perfect tranquil- 
 lity and peace ! 
 
 You are not, indeed, singular in this 
 respect. You do nothing more than 
 follow the example of a great majority 
 of your fellow Christians. You are 
 not more attached to worldly pleasures, 
 more averse to sufferings and crosses, 
 more deficient in the works of repent- 
 ance, than they. I allow that there 
 are men of more dissolute characters ; 
 for I will not suppose that you are 
 either destitute of religion, or uncon- 
 cerned about salvation : but where are 
 the men that are more penitent ? Alas ! 
 the few that there are of this description, 
 I fear, are chiefly to be found in the 
 shades of sequestered solitude. Amongst 
 the people of the world there is only a 
 small number, who, by a little stricter
 
 380 Septuagesima. 
 
 attention to religious duties, attract 
 the notice, and, perhaps, the censures, 
 and ridicule of the public. All the rest 
 tread the same beaten path : children 
 inherit the false security of their pa- 
 rents : seldom is there one that lives 
 innocent ; and seldom is there one that 
 dies penitent. Good God ! if thou 
 hast not deceived us ; if every precept 
 of the gospel must be fulfilled to an 
 iota; if the number of the reprobate 
 will not induce thee to relax something 
 of the severity of "thy la^r; what be- 
 comes of that multitude of people, 
 which daily drop into ete/nity before 
 our eyes ! What is become of our pa- 
 rents, our relations, our friends ! What 
 is their eternal lot ! 
 
 Formerly, when a prophet com- 
 plained to the Lord, that all Israel 
 had abandoned his alliance, the Lord 
 assured him, that he had reserved to him- 
 st If seven thousand men, who had not 
 bent their knee before Baak But can
 
 Septuagesima. 381 
 
 the faithful servants of Jesus be com- 
 forted with the same assurance in these 
 days ? There are undoubtedly many 
 chosen vessels of election : the priest- 
 hood, the army, the court, the cottage 
 have their ornaments men according 
 to God's own heart, with whom he de- 
 lighteth to dwell : for the world exists 
 only for the sake of the elect; and 
 when their? number is complete, the 
 final dissolution will take place. But 
 how few are they, when compared with 
 that immense multitude which is hur- 
 ried headlong into the deep abyss ! 
 
 3. You, perhaps, have been encou- 
 raged to rely with confidence on your 
 state, and to conclude that nothing 
 more was required of you, because you 
 perceived that you were as regular, as 
 moral, as attentive to your 4 duty as 
 other people. But, my beloved, this, 
 instead of being a subject of consola- 
 tion, ought to strike you with dismay. 
 Others, that is the generality of people,
 
 382 Septuagesima. 
 
 live in a state of tepidity, and spiritual 
 sloth ; they are the slaves of pride and 
 vain-glory ; they are addicted to de- 
 traction, hatred, and other vices ; they 
 love neither God nor their neighbour, 
 in the manner they ought; in a -word, 
 they walk in the broad road that lead- 
 eth to damnation. And can you ima- 
 gine that you are secure, because you 
 walk in the same path with them ? 
 The small number of the elect walk in 
 the narrow path : their lives are regu- 
 lated, not by the conduct of the multi- 
 tude, but by the precepts of the gos- 
 pel : their fervent piety, their strict 
 morality, their penitential austerity, 
 exalt them far above the rank of other 
 people: they are, and have been in 
 every age, men of singular lives : they 
 shine like lights in the midst of dark- 
 ness : they are spectacles worthy both 
 of angels and men : they hold in ab- 
 horrence the ways, the maxims, the 
 pleasures, and the vanities of the
 
 Septuagesima. 383 
 
 world: they live, says St. Paul, not 
 they, but Christ liveth in them. 
 
 Perhaps you will say, that the saints 
 are exceptions to the general rule, 
 worthy indeed of your admiration, but 
 not fit for your imitation. That they 
 are exceptions, I will readily allow. 
 But they are exceptions only from that 
 general rule of walking in the broad 
 road of perdition. A chosen soul, in 
 the midst of the world, must neces- 
 sarily be an exception. Are we then 
 obliged to walk in the footsteps of the 
 saints ? We are. It is the duty of 
 every one to be holy, and to be a 
 saint. Heaven is open only to saints. 
 There is no other gospel to be followed, 
 no other duties to be fulfilled, no other 
 promises to be hoped for, than those 
 proposed to the saints. Every one is 
 obliged to love God above all things, 
 and his neighbour as himself : every one 
 is obliged to seek heaven in the first 
 place, to be meek and humble of heart, to
 
 384 Septuagensima. , 
 
 comply with every precept of the gos- 
 pel, to avoid sin as the greatest of all 
 evils, and to do condign works of pe- 
 nance for the sins, into which he has 
 fallen : every one is obliged to do 
 good, to advance forward in the ways 
 of virtue, and to be perfect as his hea- 
 venly Father is perfect. These are ob- 
 ligations imposed on all : they are the 
 same that were imposed on the saints ; 
 and the fulfilling them alone made 
 them saints. Oh ! if there were an 
 easier road- to heaven, it would cer- 
 tainly have been pointed out to us ; it 
 would have been traced out in the gos- 
 pel ; there would have been saints who 
 would have walked in it ; and encou- 
 ragements would have been held out to 
 us by the Church, to follow their easy 
 example. But you know that there 
 has been nothing of the kind. Good 
 God! how little do men consult the 
 dictates of reason, when their eternal 
 salvation is at stake.
 
 Septuagesima. 385 
 
 Be not, therefore, lulled into a fatal 
 security by the assurance, that you are 
 as virtuous as other people. On the 
 contrary, beware of the multitude : 
 walk not with the multitude, lest you 
 share the same fate. Take your model 
 . from the saints, and imitate their vir- 
 tues, and sanctity. If you are inno- 
 cent, continue to fulfil every precept 
 of the gospel ; and, by self-denial and 
 prayer, prepare yourselves for future 
 temptations. If you are sinners, be- 
 wail your sins without ceasing: water 
 your couch every night with your 
 tears : put on the weeds of mourning ; 
 and anticipate the judgments of God, 
 by mortification, and penance. En- 
 ter on this penitential time with ala- 
 crity, and joy; and instead of seeking 
 to increase, or of availing yourselves of 
 the relaxations; which the multitude 
 has extorted, vie with the penitents 
 of old : make it a truly penitential 
 time. Be not seduced by the examples 
 VOL. i. S
 
 386 Septuageslma. 
 
 of the impenitent; but, with the 
 chosen few, devote both body and 
 soul to the painful works of fasting 
 and penance. Then you may con- 
 fidently hope that you will receive the 
 reward promised to the truly penitent, 
 and you will be united to their com- 
 pany hereafter in the joys of a blissful 
 immortality.
 
 387 
 SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 ON THE SM.ALL NUMBER OF THE 
 ELECT. 
 
 f A sower went out to sow his seed, and 
 as he sowed, some fell by the way side 
 ..... and other some fell upon a 
 rock ..... and other some fell 
 among thorns ..... and other 
 some fell upon good ground y and 
 brought forth fruit a hundred fold. 
 Luke viii. 5, 8. 
 
 OUR attention,' 
 
 my beloved, is again awakened by a 
 repetition of the dreadful truths, which 
 were the subject of my last discourse. 
 In this parable, the elect and the re- 
 probate are plainly designated ; and 
 the comparatively small number of the 
 elect is discernible to the slightest ob- 
 
 O 
 
 server. In the first place, out of that 
 immense multitude of people, who.ei- 
 S2
 
 388 Sexagesima. 
 
 ther know not God, or refuse obedi- 
 ence to his authority, and throw off 
 the restraints of religion, none are 
 chosen; the parable does not even no- 
 tice them : and the reason is, because, 
 according to the scripture, they who 
 believe not, are already judged. In 
 the second place, out of the seed which 
 God hath sown in his Church, watered 
 with the dews of heaven, and nourished 
 with the manure of his holy word, only 
 one of the four parts described forms 
 
 the number of the elect. -The man, 
 
 who hears the word of God, but never 
 
 follows it in practice, is rejected. 
 
 The man, whose sloth and tepidity, 
 like the dryness of a rock, prevent the 
 word of God from taking root, in his 
 soul, and whose only efforts for salva- 
 tion consist in attending at the service 
 of the Church, and in performing a 
 few exercises of devotion without the 
 spirit, and without the fervour of di- 
 vine love, is rejected. The man,
 
 Sexagesima. 389 
 
 whose heart is divided between God 
 and the world, and whose entangle- 
 ment in the thorns of riches and plea- 
 sures draws off his attention to the du- 
 ties of religion, is rejected. He 
 
 alone, who hears the word of God, and 
 keeps it ; he alone, who seeks the king- 
 dom of heaven in the first place, and 
 makes salvation the great business of 
 his life ; he alone, who, notwithstand- 
 ing the opposition of his own nature, 
 and the influence of public example, 
 serves his Maker in spirit, and in truth, 
 and brings forth fruit in patience; he 
 alone is admitted into the number of 
 the elect, and entitled to the rewards 
 prepared for the saints. But, my bre- 
 thren, where shall we find men of this 
 description ? That you may be, enabled 
 to form an idea of the comparative 
 smallness of their number, I will de- 
 scribe in detail the obligations of a 
 Christian; and I will examine how far 
 they are observed by mankind in geue- 
 
 S3
 
 390 Sexagesima. 
 
 ral. Be attentive, for the subject is appli- 
 cable to every individual in thisassembly. 
 , 1. By the title and character of 
 Christian, which we bear, we are ob- 
 liged to renounce the world and all its 
 pomps, the devil and all his works, the 
 flesh and all its concupiscences. These 
 are our engagements. These are the 
 essential articles of the treaty conclud- 
 ed between us and God. On the ful- 
 filment of these we shall be entitled to 
 the promises, and not otherwise. 
 
 In the first place, we engaged in 
 baptism to renounce the world and all 
 its pomps. This engagement we made at 
 the foot of the altar of God ; the 
 Church witnessed, and sealed it ; and 
 on this condition alone received us into 
 the society of the faithful. 
 
 But what is this world which we en- 
 gaged to renounce ? I reply, that it is 
 the world, to which the greater part of 
 mankind are attached ; and by this 
 mark we may always distinguish it.
 
 Sexagesima. 391 
 
 ** 
 
 The world is that multitude of sin- 
 ners, whose desires and fears, whose 
 hopes and solicitudes, whose joys and 
 griefs are excited by the goods or evils 
 of this life alone. The world is that 
 great portion of the human race, who 
 fix their affections on the earth, as if it 
 were their true country ; who dread the 
 world to come, as if it were a land of 
 banishment ; who are less anxious* 
 about their eternal inheritance, than 
 about their temporal pursuits ; who 
 consider death as the greatest of all 
 evils, the extinction of every hope, 
 and the end of every enjoyment. The 
 world is that temporal kingdom, where 
 Christ is not known, or, if he be known, 
 is not glorified as God; where his max- 
 ims are reprobated, his faithful ser- 
 vants despised, his blessings abused, 
 his sacraments neglected, or profaned, 
 his worship abandoned. This is the 
 world which we have ensrao-ed to re- 
 
 o o 
 
 nounce, to avoid, to hate, to oppose by
 
 -Sexagesima. 
 
 our good example, and to resist Avith alf 
 our heart, and mind, and strength. This is 
 the world which ought to be crucified 
 to us, that is, ought to be the object of 
 our aversion ; and to which we ought 
 to be crucified, that is, ought to be the 
 objects of its censures and ridicule. 
 
 Now, my beloved, in what manner 
 ,do we fulfil this engagement ? Do we 
 loath the enjoyments of the world? Are 
 we grieved at the sight of its abomina- 
 tions, ad crimes? Do we sigh after 
 our true country, and lament that the 
 time of our pilgrimage is prolonged ? 
 Do we wish to be dissolved, and to be 
 with Christ ? No : we do nothing of 
 the kind : or rather, we do directly the 
 reverse. Our thoughts and affections 
 are centered in the world : its laws are 
 our laws : its maxims are our maxims : 
 we condemn what it condemns : and 
 we commend what it commends. When 
 I say we, I mean the generality of 
 Christians. I know that there are
 
 Scxagesima. 393 
 
 many who complain bitterly of the 
 world : who accuse it of injustice, in- 
 gratitude, and caprice ; who discharge 
 upon it the coldest venom of invective ; 
 and who describe its errors and abuses 
 in the strongest terms. But, notwith- 
 standing all this, they still continue to 
 Jove it ; they court its favours ; they 
 cannot live without it. Where is the 
 man who can say from his heart that 
 he hates the world, and that he has re- 
 nounced its pleasures, its customs, its 
 maxims, and its expectations ? All are 
 pledged, all, without exception, have 
 entered into a most solemn covenant 
 to do this, and not one will do it. 
 
 We engaged, in the second place, to 
 renounce the flesh, and all its irregular 
 inclinations, and desires : that is to say, 
 we engaged to shun indolence and sen- 
 suality ; to resist the cravings of a 
 corrupted heart ; to chastise the boi- 
 dy, to crucify it, and to bring it into^ 
 subjection. This was our vow ; and 
 S5
 
 394 Sexagesima. 
 
 o 
 
 we are obliged to fulfil it : it is one of 
 our principal duties : it is inseparable 
 from the character of a Christian. And 
 by whom is it fulfilled ? 
 
 Lastly, we engaged to renounce the 
 devil and all his works. If it be ask- 
 ed, what these works are ? I reply, 
 that they are the works which form the 
 history of the most considerable part of 
 our lives. They are ambition, pride, 
 hypocrisy, vain-glory, and deceit : 
 they are fraud, injustice, double-deal- 
 ing, and lies : they are hatred, dissen- 
 sion, envy, and jealousy : they are 
 worldly pomp and show, plays, come- 
 dies, and unprofitable parties of pleasure. 
 
 " What !" methinks I hear you say, 
 " is the Christian to be debarred the 
 theatres, and other public places of re- 
 sort ?" Certainly ; if his innocence be 
 . exposed to danger. Every action that 
 we perform must have for its object 
 ^the greater honour and glory of God, 
 or it is not innocent. Every work
 
 Sexagesima. 395 
 
 that is not placed to our account in the 
 book of life, is recorded against us. 
 The weakness of human nature, in- 
 deed, requires pastimes and relaxations; 
 but those pastimes and relaxations only 
 are innocent, which may be referred to 
 the honour of God, and which will en- 
 able us to apply with more vigour to 
 our more holy, and more serious 
 duties. 
 
 Now, according to this- universally 
 received point of Christian morality, I 
 leave you to decide whether the public 
 amusements, above mentioned, are in- 
 nocent or not. Do they unbend the 
 mind only for a time, and thereby en- 
 able it to apply with more earnestness 
 to the great affair of salvation ? Can 
 they be referred to the greater honour 
 and glory of God ? Is it possible to 
 frequent them through motives of reli- 
 gion and virtue ? No : the most pro- 
 fane Christian would blush to make the 
 assertion. Consequently, your inno 
 S6
 
 Sexagesima. 
 
 cence is not only endangered, but in- 
 jured by them ; and consequently, as 
 often as you frequent them, you vio- 
 late the sacred engagement to renounce 
 the devil and all his works, which you 
 contracted in baptism, and which you 
 ratify by your public profession of the 
 Christian faith. 
 
 2. These, my brethren, are our bap- 
 tismal vows. They are not matters of 
 counsel only : they are not what we 
 call pious practices. They are obliga- 
 tions the most essential the most in- 
 dispensable. And yet how few ob- 
 serve them { how few give them a 
 place in their thoughts ! Ah ! did you 
 but seriously reflect on the extent of 
 the duties, which the name of Christi- 
 an imposes on you : were you but once 
 thoroughly convinced that you are 
 obliged to hate the world,, and ail that 
 is not God ; to live the life of faith, to 
 maintain a constant watchfulness over 
 your senses, to be conformed to Christ
 
 Sexagesima. 397 
 
 crucified ; did you but seriously con- 
 sider, that the great command of lov- 
 ing God with your whole heart and 
 strength, is violated by every thought, 
 every action, which is not referred to 
 him ; oh, you would be seized with 
 fear and trembling ; you would shud- 
 der at the sight of the immense chaos, 
 which your infidelities have formed be- 
 tween you and God : you would ex- 
 claim with astonishment : " Who can 
 be saved 1 if these are our duties ; if 
 this constant watchfulness, this pure 
 and fervent love are required of every 
 individual, who can be saved !" This 
 would be your exclamation : and I 
 would immediately return this answer ; 
 " Very few indeed will be saved : 
 you will not be saved, unless you re- 
 form your lives ; they, who live like 
 you, will not be saved ; the multitude 
 will not be saved." 
 
 Who then will be saved ? The. man,, 
 who, in these days of irreb'gion and
 
 39 8' Sexagesima. 
 
 vice, walks in the footsteps of the pri- 
 mitive Christian : whose hands are in- 
 nocent, and whose heart is pure ; who 
 has not received his soul in vain, (Ps. 
 xxiii. 4.) ; who has successfully 
 struggled against the torrent of world- 
 ly example, and purified his soul; 
 who is a lover of justice, and swears not 
 deceitfully against his neighbour, (ib.) ; 
 who is not indebted to double-deal- 
 ing for an increase of fortune ; who 
 returns good for evil, and heaps favours 
 on the enemy that had laboured for 
 his destruction ; who is candid and 
 sincere, and never .sacrifices truth to 
 interest, nor conscience to civility ; 
 who is charitable to all in distress, 
 and a friend to all in affliction ; who 
 is resigned in adversity, and penitent 
 even in prosperity. 
 
 He, my dear brethren, will be sav- 
 ed ; and he only. Oh ! how alarming 
 is this truth ! And nevertheless, all, 
 the chosen few only excepted, who
 
 Sexagesima. 399 
 
 work out their salvation with fear and 
 trembling, all, I say, live on HI the 
 greatest peace and tranquillity of 
 mind. They know that the greater 
 numher is lost ; but they flatter them- 
 selves with the assurance that, al- 
 though they live like the world, they 
 shall die like the just : each one sup- 
 poses that God will favour him with a 
 particular grace : each one looks for- 
 ward with confidence to a happy death. 
 These are your expectations like- 
 wise. I will, therefore, say no more 
 about the rest of mankind, but address 
 myself solely to you, as if you wer& 
 the only inhabitants of the earth. Now 
 this is the thought which occupies my 
 mind, and strikes terror into the very 
 centre of my soul. I suppose that the 
 last day is arrived ; that the trumpet 
 has sounded ; that you are risen from 
 the dead ; that you are assembled toge- 
 ther in this place to wait the coming of 
 the great Judge; that the heavens are
 
 400 , Sexagesimq. 
 
 about 'to open ; and that you will 
 shortly behold the Son of Man descend- 
 ing with great power and majesty to 
 pronounce upon you the sentence ei- 
 ther of election or reprobation. 
 Rouse your attention, my brethren. 
 Are your accounts in order r Are you 
 prepared for the trial ? Are you ready 
 to meet your Judge ? Do not say that 
 you will prepare yourselves hereafter. 
 This is a delusive hope. What you are 
 now, the same will you probably be at 
 the hour of death. The intention of 
 reforming your conduct, which has so 
 long occupied your thoughts without 
 effect, will continue without effect as 
 , long as you live. This is testified by 
 the experience of ages. 
 
 Now I ask you ; I ask you with dis- 
 may, and without meaning to separate 
 my lot from yours ; were the Son of 
 Man to appear in this assembly, and 
 separate the good from the bad, the in- 
 nocent from the guilty, the penitent
 
 Sexagesima. 401 
 
 from the impenitent, how many would 
 he place on his right hand ? Would 
 he place the greater number of us ? 
 Would he place one half? Formerly 
 he could not find ten just men in five 
 populous cities : and could he find as 
 many, do you think, in this small as- 
 sembly ? How many, then, would he 
 place on his right ?- You cannot give 
 an answer : neither can I. Thou alone, 
 my God, knowest thy elect thy cho- 
 sen few. But if we cannot say who 
 will be placed on his right hand, we 
 can say, at least, that sinners will be 
 placed on his left. Who, then, are 
 sinners ? They may be divided into 
 four classes. Let every individual at- 
 tend, and examine whether he may 
 not be ranked in one of them. 1st, 
 They who are immersed in vice, and 
 will not reform : 2d, They who intend 
 to reform, but defer their conversion : 
 3d, They who fall into their former ha- 
 bits, as often as they pretend to renounce
 
 402 Sexagesima. 
 
 them : 4th, They who think that they 
 need not a change of life. These are 
 the reprobate : separate them from the 
 rest df this assembly, for they will be 
 separated from them at the last day. 
 Now, ye chosen servants of my God 
 ye remnant of Israel, lift up your 
 heads ; your salvation is at hand : pass 
 to the right : separate yourselves from 
 this chaff, which is destined for the 
 fire. O God ! where are thy elect ! 
 How few of us will be comprehended 
 in the number ! 
 
 Beloved Christians, our perdition is 
 almost certain ; and why are we not 
 alarmed ? If a voice from heaven were 
 heard in this temple, proclaiming aloud 
 that one of us here present would be 
 consigned to eternal flames, without 
 disclosing the name; who would not 
 tremble for himself ? who would not 
 examine into the state of his soul ? who 
 would not, like the apostles at the &st 
 supper, turn to Jesus, and say : Is it /,
 
 Sexagesima. 403 , 
 
 Lord ? And, if time were still at our 
 disposal, who would not endeavour to 
 secure his own soul by the tears, and 
 sighs of repentance ? 
 
 Where then is our prudence ? Per- 
 haps not more than ten of my present 
 auditory will be saved : perhaps not 
 even so many : perhaps . . . But, O 
 God ! I dare not,' I cannot fix my eyes 
 on the dreadful, unfathomable abyss of 
 thy justice: perhaps not more than 
 one of us will see heaven. And yet, 
 we all flatter ourselves that we shall be 
 the happy souls that will escape : we 
 all imagine, without considering either 
 our virtues or vices, that God will 
 have mercy on us in preference even to 
 those who are more innocent. and de- 
 serving. 
 
 Good God ! how little are the ter- 
 rors of thy justice known in the world ! 
 The elect in every age withered away 
 through fear, when they contemplated 
 the severity, and die depth of thy judg-
 
 404 Sexagesima. 
 
 ments on the sins of men. Holy soli- 
 taries, after a life of the severest pe- 
 nance, were terrified at the thought ; 
 and, when stretched on the bed of 
 death, shook their hard couch of po- 
 verty and mortification by the tremb- 
 ling motions of their emaciated frame. 
 They turned towards their weeping 
 brethren, and with 'a faultering and 
 dying voice asked them : " Do you 
 think that the Lord will have mercy on 
 me?" Their fears bordered on despair, 
 and their minds were in the greatest 
 agitation, until Jesus himself appeased 
 the storm, and produced a calm. But 
 now, the man, who has lived like the 
 multitude, who has been worldly 
 profane sensual and unthinking, 
 dies with the assurance of a happy im- 
 mortality : and the minister of God, 
 when summoned to attend him, is ne- 
 cessitated to cherish this false confi- 
 dence, to speak only of the infinite 
 treasures of the mercies of God, and, in
 
 Sexagesima. 405 
 
 some measure, to aid and assist him in 
 deceiving himself. Good God ! what 
 wrath is stored up by thy justice against 
 the day of wrath ! 
 
 What conclusion, my beloved, are 
 you to draw from these alarming 
 truths ? That you are to despair of sal- 
 vation ? God forbid. The impious 
 man alone, in order to indulge his pas- 
 sions with less restraint, endeavours to 
 convince himself that salvation is un- 
 attainable, and that all mankind will 
 perish with him. My object is, 'that 
 you should be undeceived, respecting 
 that almost universally received opi- 
 nion, that it is not unlawful to do what 
 is done by others, and that universal 
 custom is a sufficient rule for your con- 
 duct. My object is, that you should 
 be convinced, that in order to be sav- 
 ed, you must live in a different manner 
 from the generality of mankind, that 
 your piety must be singular, and that
 
 406 
 
 you must be separated from the multi- 
 tude. 
 
 When the captive Jews were on the 
 point of departing from their -beloved 
 country for the land of bondage the 
 great Babylon, the prophet Jeremiah, 
 who was commanded by God to remain 
 in Jerusalem, addressed them in words 
 to this purport : " Children of Israel, 
 when you arrive in Babylon, you will 
 behold their gods T>f silver and gold, 
 borne on the shoulders of the inhabi- 
 tants, and the multitude before and 
 behind adoring them : .but do not you 
 imitate their example ; on the contra 
 ry, say in your hearts, Thou alone, O 
 Lord ! art worthy to be adored" Bar. 
 vi. 6. 
 
 My advice to you, at parting, is near- 
 ly in the same words ; and I earnestly 
 exhort you never for a moment to lose 
 sight of it As soon as you have left 
 the house of God, you will find your-
 
 Sexagesimal. 407 
 
 selves in the midst of Babylon. You 
 will behold the idols of gold and sil- 
 ver, before which are prostrated the 
 greater part of mankind: you will see 
 the gods of this world, wealth, glory, 
 and pleasure, surrounded by their nu- 
 merous votaries and adorers : you will 
 witness abuses, errors, and disorders, 
 authorized by univeral example. Then, 
 my beloved brethren, if you are Is- 
 raelites indeed, you must turn to God, 
 and say : Thou alone, O Lord ! art 
 worthy to be adored. I will not take 
 part with people who are strangers to 
 thee : I will follow- no other law but 
 thine. The gods, which the senseless 
 multitude adores, are not gods ; they 
 are the work of men's hands; and 
 they shall perish with them. Thou 
 only art immortal : Thou alone art wor- 
 thy to be adored. The laws of Babylon 
 have no connection with thy holy laws. 
 I will adore thee in the society of thy 
 elect ; and with them I will ardently
 
 408 Sexagesima. 
 
 sigh after the heavenly Jerusalem, 
 the seat of bliss. The world, perhaps, 
 may attribute my conduct to weak- 
 ness, my singularity to vain-glory : 
 but, do thou, O Lord, give me strength 
 to resist the torrent of vice ; and suffer 
 me not to be seduced by evil example. 
 The days of captivity will have an end. 
 Thou wilt remember Abraham, and 
 David, thy servants. Thou wilt deli- 
 ver thy people from slavery, and lead 
 them into Sion. Then shaltThou alone 
 reign over Israel, and over the na- 
 tions that refuse to know thee. Then 
 shall the former things pass away ; and 
 Thou alone shalt remain for ever. 
 Then shall all nations know that Thou 
 alone, O Lord ! art worthy to be 
 adored. " 
 
 In order, therefore, to profit by 
 this discourse, you. must be resolved 
 to live differently from the rest of 
 men : you must bear constantly in 
 mind that the greater number are lost :
 
 Sexctgesima. 40<) 
 
 you must disregard all customs, which 
 are not consistent with the law of 
 God : you must reflect, that the saints 
 in every age were men of singular 
 lives. Then, after having been dis- 
 tinguished from sinners on earth, you 
 will be gloriously separated from them 
 for all eternity. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 410 
 
 QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 ON THE FAST OP LENT. 
 
 When you fast, be not, like the hypo- 
 crites, sad. Matt. vi. 16*. 
 
 ^ 
 
 Gospel for Ash-Wednesday . 
 
 WlTH this gospel, 
 the Church ushers in the solemn fast 
 of Lent. With this gospel she en- 
 courages us to put on the weeds of 
 penance, and to endeavour with united 
 efforts to disarm the wrath of God, to 
 avert his impending judgments, and to 
 expiate our sins. She exhorts us to 
 enter on this holy time without sad- 
 ness ; because, fasting will enable us 
 to triumph over the flesh, and the 
 devil : and ought sadness and grief to
 
 Quinquagesima . 411 
 
 be indulged by the warrior who has the 
 means of victory in his power? May 
 our enemy alone repine at the approach 
 of this happy season : may he be sad 
 during these days of propitiation: may 
 he be alarmed at the view of these 
 consolatory appearances of repentance, 
 and tremble at the display of the mer- 
 cies which God has prepared for sin- 
 ners. But you, my beloved, you 
 ought to anoint your heads, and to 
 o_pen your hearts to the feelings of holy 
 joy, and gladness : conquerors are never 
 sorrowful. 
 
 There are, indeed, various kinds of 
 sadness. There is a holy sadness the 
 sadness of repentance, which ad- 
 vanceth the great work of salvation, 
 and is enlivened by the interior 
 consolations of the Holy Ghost. There 
 is likewise the sadness which is alluded 
 to in the words of my text, the sad- 
 ness of hypocrisy, which observes the 
 letter of the law, and puts on the ap- 
 
 T2
 
 4 1 2 Quinquagesirna. 
 
 pearance of rigid austerity, in order to 
 gain the applause of men : this is very 
 uncommon in these times. Lastly, 
 there is a sadness produced by the de- 
 pravity of corrupt nature, which re- 
 volts at the idea of self-denial, and re- 
 straint : and this I am grieved to say, 
 is the sadness which is felt by the 
 generality of Christians, and against 
 which it is particularly necessary that 
 you should be guarded. 
 
 The consequences of this sadness are 
 obvious, and certain : every frivolous 
 pretext is adduced for the" purpose of 
 obtaining an exemption from the ri- 
 gour of the law.T-In order, therefore, 
 that you may not be led into error 
 on a subject of this importance, I will 
 display the futility of the pretexts 
 which are usually alledged, and lay 
 down in plain terms the conditions, 
 on which alone a dispensation can be 
 lawfully founded. 
 
 1. Were I speaking to men who de- 
 spised the laws of the Church on this
 
 , Quinguagesima. 413 
 
 head, and disputed her authority in 
 enacting them, I would prove that 
 fasting always was, and always will be 
 necessary for the support of a truly 
 Christian life. I would go back to the 
 pure ages of Christianity, and shew 
 you that religion itself was nourished 
 in the bosom of abstinence, and fast- 
 ing : I would say, that, after the 
 ascension of our Lord, the disciples 
 assembled in Jerusalem, and devoted 
 their whole time to prayer, and fast- 
 ing : I would say, that the primitive 
 Christians served the laborious appren- 
 ticeship to martyrdom in the austeri- 
 ties of fasting ; and that, in the midst 
 of the licentiousness of an idolatrous 
 camp, the Christian soldiers assembled 
 together in order to celebrate, with 
 greater solemnity, the fasts prescribed v 
 by universal custom : I would say, 
 that the emissaries of the persecutors 
 designated the faithful by the paleness 
 of their countenances, and by the odour 
 
 T 3
 
 4 1 4 Qiiinquagesima. 
 
 of sanctitv, and mortification, which 
 
 v * 
 
 distinguished them from the rest of 
 mankind :-*-! would say, that our mortal 
 enemy, who is ever ready to extract 
 pernicious effects from the most pious 
 observances, stirred up many restless 
 spirits to practise new, and extravagant 
 abstinences, not with a view to the re- 
 paration of the injured justice of God, 
 but with the idea that the meats them- 
 selves were unclean : so strongly was 
 the whole Christian world convinced, 
 that, after the death of the Spouse, 
 the obligation of fasting was indispen- 
 sable. 
 
 I proceed, however, on the supposi- 
 tion that I am speaking to men, who 
 are neither rebellious, nor obedient ; 
 who acknowledge the obligation of 
 fasting, but who will not fast ; who do 
 not openly exclaim, with the impious,, 
 / will nut obey, but who, with the 
 men invited to the marriage feast^
 
 Quinquagesima. 415 
 
 (Luke xiv. 19.), find some plea or 
 other, to excuse their disobedience. 
 
 In order to distinguish truth from 
 falsehood in a subject of this im- 
 portance, it is necessary to state, that, 
 since the law of fasting is made, and 
 received, it is impossibility alone that 
 can justify the infringement of it: 
 by impossibility, I mean, a difficulty 
 founded on evident and considerable 
 danger: for the Church established 
 the law with the intent, not to destroy 
 in this world, but to save in the next. 
 
 This being the truth, let us now 
 examine your excuses. You say, in 
 the first place, with great assurance 
 and boldness, that you are dispensed 
 with fasting for sufficient reasons; that 
 your conscience does not reproach 
 you on that head ; and that, if you 
 had nothing but the transgression of 
 this precept to answer for before God, 
 you could present youselves at his tri 
 bumal without fear : or, in other words, 
 T4
 
 4 1 6 Quinquagesima. 
 
 that you have naturally a weak con- 
 stitution, that you are not able to 
 undergo the severities of fasting, and 
 that the little health you enjoy, is en- 
 tirely owing to care and precaution. 
 
 If it be true, that your weakness is 
 such as you describe it to be, I will 
 ask, whence did it originate ? Was 
 it r not from this over solicitude 
 and care to preserve it ? - Was it 
 not brought on by that soft, voluptu- 
 ous life which you have led? Was it 
 not occasioned by habits of indolence, 
 and by constantly indulging your 
 sensual appetite in all its caprices ? 
 Were you, however, to examine impar- 
 tially into the state of your health, y^u 
 perhaps would discover that the con- 
 stant aversion you feel for self-denial, 
 and penance, has led you into an error 
 on this subject ; and that you imagine 
 that your condition is weak, because 
 you never have had piety and resolu- 
 tion sufficient to induce you to try 
 its strength. If this be the case, as it
 
 Quinquage&ima. 417 
 
 probably is, can you pretend that the 
 very reason, which makes penance 
 more necessary, is a sufficient plea for. 
 a dispensation ? Your imaginary weak- 
 ness is itself a crime, and ought to be 
 expiated by extraordinary austerities,, 
 instead of exempting you from those 
 which are common to all the faithful- 
 
 If the Church were to make any dis~ 
 tinction amongst her children; if she 1 
 was inclined to grant privileges to some 
 and not to others, it would be to those,. 
 Avhose lowly, and dependent station 
 exposes them to the hardships and -fa- 
 tigues of toilsome labour, who. suf- 
 fer from the severities of seasons, from. 
 hunger, from thirst, from public op-- 
 pressions, anrf from private" wrongs, 
 who have only a distant view of. the 
 pleasures which this world affords,- 
 and whose happiness has attained its- 
 oreatest height when a bare suffi- 
 
 CD O 
 
 ciency is procured for themselves and: 
 
 families. But as for those, on \vhorm 
 
 T~ 
 >
 
 418 Q u inquagesima. 
 
 the world has lavished its choicest 
 gifts, whose greatest unhappiness 
 arises from the satiety and disgust, 
 which is inseparable from sensual feli- 
 city ; they can pretend to no other dis- 
 tinction than that of increased auste- 
 rity, and a prolongation of the canoni- 
 cal rigours of penance. 
 
 But what is their conduct ? The 
 opulent, the independent, the higher 
 classes of society, the men, who alone 
 seem to need repentance, the men, 
 for whom this penitential time is prin- 
 cipally intended, are almost the only 
 ones who plead for a dispensation : 
 whilst the poor artisan, the indigent 
 labourer, who eats his bread in the 
 sweat of his brow, whose days of 
 feasting and merriment would be to 
 the rich man days of penance, and 
 mortification, whilst he, I say, bows 
 down with respect and submission to this 
 holy law, and, even in his poverty, re- 
 trenches from his usual pittance, and
 
 Quinquagesima. 4 1 9 
 
 ' - 
 
 makes the time of Lent a time of ex- 
 traordinary suffering and penance. 
 But, my God ! the time will come, 
 when Thou wilt openly espouse the 
 cause of thy holy law, and confound 
 the advocates of human concupiscence. 
 The Pharisees in the gospel disfigured 
 their faces, in order that their fasting 
 might be remarked by men : but this 
 is not the hypocrisy of the present 
 day ; no : after a year spent in excess, 
 in murmurings, and in sin, the pam- 
 pered disciples of a crucified Jesus put 
 on a pale, a weak appearance at the 
 commencement of this holy time, for 
 the sole purpose of setting up a plausi- 
 ble pretext to violate in peace the law 
 of fasting, and abstinence. 
 
 My dear brethren, has the tender- 
 ness of your constitution ever deterred 
 you from taking -part in any worldly 
 enjoyment r Ah ! you can bear the 
 fatigues of company, and entertain- 
 ments j you can overcharge yourselves 
 
 T6
 
 420 ; Quinquagesima. 
 
 with surfeiting, and wine ; you can 
 submit to the painful consequences of 
 high living, and intemperance ; you 
 can keep irregular hours, and take 
 other liberties, which would be felt by 
 the strongest constitution. It is fast- 
 ing alone that you cannot endure; 
 then only are you particularly solicit- 
 ous for your health, when penance is 
 required. 
 
 Is it for me only, says the Lord by 
 his prophet, is it for me only that you 
 refuse to suffer, O house of Israel ! 
 You are indefatigable, and strong in 
 the ways of iniquity, but in my service 
 you are weak, and discouraged by the 
 least difficulty. Tell me if you have any 
 thing to justify yourselves, (Isa. xliii. 
 26.) 
 
 So it is, my beloved friends ; and so 
 it always has been : pleasures are never 
 incommodious. The purchase of what 
 you love, is always cheap, The slavery 
 of the world, of riches, and of ini-
 
 Quitiquagesima. 
 
 quity, is not painful, because you are 
 worldly, ambitious, and sensual. But, 
 if you could once divest yourselves of 
 this spirit of the world, and imbibe the 
 spirit of Christ ; then, your strength 
 would not fail you in his service ; then, 
 you would be convinced that the law 
 of fasting was not a cruel and destruc- 
 tive law ; then, you would acknow- 
 ledge that the observance of your 
 duties was not incompatible with the 
 care of your health ; then, with Daniel 
 and the three children, you would ex- 
 perience that forbidden meats were not, 
 by any means, necessary for the pre- 
 servation of your strength, and vigour. 
 Supposing, however, that fasting 
 does weaken your corporal faculties ; 
 is it not just that you should stamp the 
 painful seal of the cross on , a body, 
 which has so often been marked with 
 the shameful characters of the beast ? 
 Is it not time that members, which 
 have served iniquity, should at length..
 
 422 Quinquagesima. 
 
 be subservient to justice ; and that 
 grace should he strengthened in your 
 infirmity ? 
 
 The law of fasting was instituted for 
 the express purpose of weakening the 
 body : and if you experience sensa- 
 tions of languor, and faintness, it is no 
 more than was intended : you ha\ 7 e 
 reason to rejoice on that account, for 
 your merit will be proportionate to 
 your patient suffering. The end, there- 
 fore, proposed by the law can never 
 be a proper reason for a dispensation. 
 
 .You perhaps may say, that the 
 Church has approved your reasons, 
 and released you from the obligation 
 of fasting by the ministry of your 
 director. 
 
 To this your own conscience will 
 reply, that a dispensation, obtained 
 contrary to the intention, and spirit of 
 the Church, is void ; and that the ob- 
 ligation is still in force : that is to say, 
 that the dispensation, which is granted
 
 Quinquagesima. 425 
 
 without a sufficient cause, is not a 
 dispensation in the sight of God. This 
 is the doctrine of the saints. If, there- 
 fore, your reasons are not candidly, 
 and truly of that nature as to require 
 a relaxation in your favour, you im- 
 pose upon your pastors, and you are 
 transgressors every time that you avail 
 yourselves of this fraudulent and un- 
 just dispensation. 
 
 The Church, indeed, is not ignorant 
 of the imposition. She sees with grief, 
 that almost the whole of the submis- 
 sion of these loose and supine Christians 
 consists in extorting her consent to 
 the infringement of her own laws. 
 And if, notwithstanding this convic- 
 tion, she still appear to favour their un- 
 just demands, she is influenced by the 
 fear of driving them to extremities, 
 and is willing to keep them in her com- 
 munion by the simple ties of outward 
 respect and obedience. But woe to the 
 Christians who force her to this afflict-
 
 424 Quinquagesima. 
 
 ing alternative. The disease'must be 
 dangerous indeed, when the patient is 
 allowed to choose his own regimen. 
 
 2. But allowing that your reasons 
 are just, and that a dispensation is ne- 
 cessary, nevertheless it not unfre- 
 quently happens, that you transgress 
 the law of penance by <the manner in 
 which you avail yourselves of this dis- 
 pensation of the Church. 
 
 It is incumbent on you, as Chris- 
 tians, to lament your inability to ob- 
 serve the law, and to offer up to God 
 the sacrifice" of an humble heart, as a 
 kind of compensation for the corporal 
 penance, which you are unable to en- 
 dure.' Esther called on God to witness 
 her necessity, and expressed her de- 
 testation, when she was obliged to par- 
 take of the profane meats, and ban- 
 quets of the uncircumcised. Urias 
 exclaimed, when he was pressed by his 
 sovereign to go down to his own house, 
 and enjoy the pleasures of a momentary
 
 Quinquagesima. 425 
 
 repose. What I shall I eat and drink, 
 while Israel and Juda are enduring the 
 severities of the camp, (2 Kings xi. 11.) 
 
 Are these, my beloved, your senti- 
 ments ? Do you exclaim : " why am, I 
 constrained to spare this criminal flesh, 
 while the Church is clothed in sack- 
 cloth, and ashes, while my fellow mem- 
 bers in Christ are walking courage- 
 ously on in the holy paths of penance ? 
 Why, O Lord ! have I not sufficient 
 strength to satisfy thy justice I, who 
 have had sufficient strength to offend 
 thee? Why was I not endued with a 
 bodily frame, capable of enduring every 
 degree of fatigue, and torture, that the 
 instrument of my crimes might be 
 made the instrument of my punish- 
 ment ?" 
 
 Ah ! if you were animated with the 
 true spirit of piety, you would blush 
 at a distinction so little merited by 
 your past life : you would consider 
 such a singularity as a kind of ana-
 
 426 Quinquagesima. 
 
 thema, as a leprosy, which caused you. 
 to be banished from the society, 
 and communion of the body of the 
 faithful, and you would endeavour 
 to compensate for your bodily in- 
 firmities by the strength and vigour of 
 your interior piety. 
 
 In the second place, you must re- 
 flect, that the dispensation from fasting 
 does not include a dispensation from 
 doing penance. The Church has no 
 intention of taking the cross from 
 your shoulders : she is not authorized 
 to do it : she can do no more than les- 
 sen its weight, and proportion it to 
 the strength of the bearer. Lent must 
 be, in some manner or other, a time of 
 penance. St. Paul says, that he, who 
 does not distinguish the eucharistic 
 bread from common food, is guilty -of 
 the body of the Lord : and I say to 
 you, that, whatever your infirmities 
 may be, if you do not make a distinc-
 
 Quinquagesima. 427 
 
 tion between the time of Lent, and 
 other times, you are guilty of the law 
 t of fasting. 
 
 Now, what distinction do you 
 make ? Do you pray more than at other 
 times ? Are you more charitable to the 
 poor ? Do you soothe the afflictions of 
 the suffering members of Christ, and 
 make amends in their persons for the 
 extraordinary gratifications which your 
 infirmities require ? Do you abstain 
 from lawful pleasures, which are not 
 necessary for your health ? Ah ! my 
 brethren, a compensation must be 
 made. He, who cannot offer a lamb 
 in sacrifice, must offer a pair of doves. 
 The justice of God must be satisfied. 
 If you cannot crucify your flesh by 
 fasting, you must chastise it by ab- 
 staining from unnecessary pleasures : 
 you must mortify your turbulent pas- 
 sions by retirement : you must have 
 less communication with the world : 
 you must be more attentive to your
 
 428 Quinquagesima. 
 
 domestic concerns : you must be more 
 assiduous in frequenting the place of 
 worship, in receiving the sacraments, 
 and in performing works of mercy,: 
 you must be more circumspect in your 
 whole conduct. This, says St. Chry- 
 sostom, is the fast, which the Church 
 requires from the infirm. To comply 
 with this, neither health, nor strength 
 are requisite : a firm faith, and the fear 
 of God, will alone enable you to per- 
 form it. But, alas ! a firm faith, and 
 the fear of God, are precisely the virtues 
 to which you are strangers. You ob- 
 ject to jsufterings of every description. 
 You imagine that you are freed from 
 all restraint, as soon as you are dis- 
 pensed with fasting : and because you 
 are not able to comply with the whole 
 precept, you joyfully conclude that 
 you are not obliged to do any thing. 
 
 There are many, I know, who say, 
 that fasting is a matter of no great im- 
 portance : that the great point is. tc*
 
 Quinquagesima. 429 
 
 be good moral men : and that, as to 
 food, whether it be this or that, whe- 
 ther they take three meals or one, at 
 can be of no such consequence in the 
 sight of God, as to justify the declama- 
 tions of the Church, or be a sufficient 
 reason to subject the faithful to so 
 many inconveniences, and vexations. 
 
 Thus, the children of the world are 
 not satisfied with merely violating the 
 law of fasting, and abstinence, they 
 proceed even to abuse ; they vilify it, 
 by giving it the name of prejudice 
 which custom has established : and 
 they put on the appearance of reason, 
 in order to infringe it without scruple. 
 But what do they degrade ? They de- 
 grade the most venerable tradition of 
 the Church, the most ancient, and the 
 most universal point of discipline, 
 which has descended to us from our 
 forefathers. The respectable institu- 
 tion of fasting,- established by the 
 apostles, consecrated by the custom of
 
 430 Qmnquagesima. 
 
 ages, honoured by the examples of pa- 
 triarchs, and prophets, and of Jesus 
 Christ himself, is nothing more, in 
 their language, than a popular devotion 
 a pious prejudice, of which enthu- 
 siasm alone can exact a rigorous, and 
 minute observance. 
 
 These, however, I trust, are not the 
 sentiments of any individual of this 
 assembly. If, therefore, I will say in 
 conclusion, if your infirmities require 
 a dispensation, indulge not beyond the 
 calls of necessity. Let your repasts 
 savour of the frugality of this time of 
 penance ; let them be stampt, in some 
 part or other, with the seal of mortifi- 
 cation. Remember, that, although the 
 Church consents that you do not ac- 
 company Moses on the mountain to 
 fast the forty days, she expects that, 
 while you remain in the plains below, 
 you neither partake of the profane en- 
 joyments, the excesses, and the festive 
 sports of the Israelites, nor unite with
 
 Quinquagesima. 43 1 
 
 them in the adoration of the golden 
 calf. 
 
 Let us, my beloved brethren, enter 
 into the true spirit of this holy time. 
 Ah ! can you remain unrnoved at the 
 affecting spectacle, which will shortly 
 be displayed before you? When you 
 behold the Church in affliction, and 
 clothed in the weeds of mourning 
 and sorrow; when you behold her 
 ministers prostrate, and weeping be- 
 tween the porch and the altar; when 
 you behold your brethren armed with 
 the weapons of penance, and lighting 
 with determined resolution against flesh 
 and blood, will you be able to refrain 
 from uniting with them ? Will you 
 have resolution sufficient to continue 
 immersed in the enjoyment of sensual 
 pleasures ? If the body cannot take 
 part in the penitential works of the 
 faithful, at least change your hearts, 
 and be converted to the Lord. If you 
 cannot rend, by fasting, the garment
 
 432 Quinqu'agesima. 
 
 of flesh, which encompasseth you, rend 
 your hearts, says the spirit of God, by 
 the tears of grief, and compunction. 
 Surpass your brethren, in the disposi- 
 tions of your minds, if you cannot fol- 
 low them in the exercises of the body. 
 In a word, live more holily than 
 they, and you will fast more profitably. 
 Thus, you will glorify God in your 
 infirmities, and in the end receive the 
 reward, which is promised to the truly 
 penitent.
 
 433 
 FIRST SUNDAY OF LENT. 
 
 ON THE ABUSES OF FASTING. 
 
 And when he had fasted forty days and 
 
 forty nights, he was afterzvards 
 
 hungry. *-'.. *'. Matt, iv. 2. 
 
 WHAT an exam- 
 ple, dear Christians, is displayed before 
 our eyes in die gospel of this Sunday ! 
 Innocence itself the Lamb without 
 spot the Holy One of Israel, fasts in 
 the midst of a dreary solitude, ! He 
 fasts, not during a small portion of the 
 day, nor from one only kind of food, 
 like his pretended <lisciples of these 
 times ; but Jie fasts during the pro- 
 tracted space of forty days, and forty 
 VOL. i. U
 
 434 First Sunday 
 
 nights ; he abstains from every species 
 of corporal nourishment. Prayer and 
 contemplation are his only food : tears, 
 and supplications for lost man, are his 
 only employment. The anguish, and 
 horror excited by the view of the innu- 
 merable sins, and of the obstinate im- 
 penitence of mankind, render him in- 
 sensible to the cravings of hunger 
 and thirst : and the ardent longings 
 of his soul to effect our deliverance 
 from them, cause him to submit with 
 alacrity and joy to every pain, to every 
 labour and fatigue. 
 
 Can we, my beloved, view this exam- 
 ple of the Son of God with indifference 
 at this holy time ? Can we, the authors 
 of his sufferings, the victims, who 
 alone ought to be devoted to sacrifice, 
 can we, I say, refuse to mingle our 
 tears with his ? Can we steel our hearts 
 against the sorrows of repentance ? He 
 suffered voluntarily ; and he suffered 
 for our good alone : we are command-
 
 of Lent. 435 
 
 ed to suffer ; and to suffer for our own 
 salvation. What more powerful in- 
 citement could be proposed to us, than 
 the sight of a God-Man fainting under 
 the languors of fasting ? But, alas ! I 
 fear, that the greater number of Chris- 
 tians, instead of being inspired with a 
 holy ardour, are solicitous only to 
 avoid the rigours of the law, and to add 
 to the mitigations which the relaxed 
 morals of our forefathers have intro- 
 duced. 
 
 My object, in thus introducing the 
 subject of fasting to your notice a se- 
 cond time, is to lay before you the ex- 
 tent of your obligations at this season, 
 both as Christians, and as sinners. 
 
 1. There is hardly any precept more 
 universally abused than is the precept 
 of fasting. At a time, when the judg- 
 ments of God are heavy upon the na- 
 tions of the earth, and fasting and 
 prayer are the only means of restrain- 
 ing his just indignation, Christians are 
 
 U 2
 
 436 - First Sunday 
 
 solicitous only for an increase of the 
 relaxations of the Church, and for a 
 total abolition of every thing that is 
 painful to flesh and blood. They say, 
 that, in the first ages, when innocence 
 and simplicity prevailed, severity of 
 discipline was seasonable; but that, hi 
 these times, when immorality has spread 
 its baneful influence on every side, a 
 greater latitude, or even free liberty in 
 the article of penance, is the only pro- 
 per system to be adopted. 
 
 Instead of entering into a refuta- 
 tion of this irreligious principle, a 
 principle which, I trust, is not enter- 
 tained by any one in this assembly, I 
 will examine what bounds the Church 
 has thought proper to prescribe to her 
 condescension, and I will endeavour to 
 distinguish those relaxations, which a 
 vitiated custom has introduced, from 
 the mitigations, which she either au- 
 thorizes or tolerates. These may be 
 collected from the motives which
 
 of Lent. 437 
 
 first gave rise to the institution of the 
 law. 
 
 The law of fasting was instituted 
 for the express purpose of crucifying 
 the flesh, in order, says St. Chrysostom, 
 to fortify the soul against future temp- 
 tations, and to contribute to the expia- 
 tion of past sins. Our fasting, there- 
 fore, must be sufficiently rigorous to 
 answer this desirable end ; otherwise, 
 our fasting will be fruitless. 
 
 The flesh is crucified, and the passi- 
 ons are weakened, either by the length 
 of abstinence, by the simplicity of 
 food, or by frugality in meals. Excuse 
 the detail into which I must enter ; it 
 is indispensable ; and I will be as con- 
 cise as possible. 
 
 The length of abstinence is the first. 
 The primitive Christians never broke 
 their fast before sunset : and for this 
 their slender meal they prepared them- 
 selves by an uninterrupted application 
 to works of piety. They frequently 
 U3
 
 438 First Sunday 
 
 w.atched in the temple, singing hymns 
 and canticles over the tombs of the 
 martyrs, during the whole preceding 
 night. This was their fast; and by the 
 length and severity of their sufferings, 
 they succeeded in weakening their 
 flesh, and in opposing an effectual bar- 
 rier to their criminal passions. But, 
 my beloved brethren, what benefit do 
 we reap from the severity of our fasts ? 
 What are our fasts ? In addition to the 
 indulgence of the Church, which has 
 advanced the hour of repast, and has, 
 moreover, tolerated a small refection 
 in the morning, and at night, we take 
 the most unwarrantable licences. Our 
 whole attention is apparently absorbed 
 in devising means to arrive at the time 
 of meal without pain or languor. We 
 avoid the craving of hunger with the 
 greatest care ; not considering that the 
 fast even of our Saviour was not exempt 
 from- it. And if, notwithstanding our 
 care, we feel a slight faintness and de-
 
 of Lent. 439 
 
 i 
 
 bility, we gladly take alarm for the 
 safety of our health, and plead for a 
 dispensation. 
 
 But, my beloved, do you not know, 
 that at this time you ought, with the 
 Royal Prophet, to prevent the rising 
 sun, in order to prolong your fast, and 
 to unite your prayers with those of the 
 Church ; that you ought scrupulously 
 to offer to the Lord the first fruits of a 
 day which is to be sanctified by pe- 
 nance, and that you ought to put to 
 profit every moment of this time of 
 grace and salvation? 
 
 Not sufficiently gratified with these 
 liberties and relaxations, you frequent- 
 ly make it a subject of enquiry, whether 
 the fast is injured or broken by drink- 
 ing out of meal-time ? I reply in the 
 first place, that, it being the intent of 
 the law of fasting, to mortify the sen- 
 sual appetites, and particularly the 
 taste, every liberty, between meals, 
 which is favourable to this sense, is a
 
 440 First Sunday 
 
 kind of infringement of the law. I 
 reply in the second place, that every 
 mitigation of the pains of abstinence is 
 contrary to the spirit of the law. But, 
 supposing that the unlawfulness of it 
 were only doubtful, would you be pru- 
 dent in exposing yourselves to the 
 danger ? This, at least, is incontesti- 
 ble, that these mitigations are of new 
 date; and that example can neither 
 justify an abuse, nor constitute any 
 thing like a prescriptive right in oppo- 
 sition to a positive injunction. 
 
 Allowing, however, for argument 
 sake, that these relaxations are inno- 
 cent ; nevertheless, out of respect for 
 this holy time, you ought to abstain 
 from them. You have many unlawful 
 gratifications to atone for; and when 
 will you atone for them, if, even in 
 Lent, you will not refrain, in the spirit 
 of piety and penance, from things 
 which you deem to be lawful at other 
 times? Do not, my beloved friends,
 
 of Lent. 441 
 
 suffer yourselves -to be so very easily 
 imposed upon : our fasts are already so 
 much relaxed by the tolerance of the 
 Church, that we cannot pass the 
 bounds which she has prescribed, even 
 in the most trifling degree, without in- 
 curring the guilt of venial sin. Her 
 indulgence has been extended to the 
 utmost li nits, and beyond them we 
 cannot take one step without trans- 
 gressing. 
 
 2. In the second place, what shall we 
 say of the simplicity of food, and of 
 the frugality in meals, which ought to 
 be observed at this holy time ? In Lent, 
 says St. Leo, we should live sparingly ; 
 we should feed the poor members of 
 Christ with what we retrench from our 
 tables; and our frugality, as the apos- 
 tle insinuates, should impart abund- 
 ance to our suffering, brethren. But is 
 this our rule of conduct? The fact is, 
 and it neither can, nor ought to be dis- 
 sembled, that we seek to gratify the. 
 
 U5,
 
 442 First Sunday 
 
 sensual appetite as much in Lent as at 
 other times. We procure every deli- 
 cacy that our means will permit : and 
 if we be so situated, that we cannot 
 procure so great a variety as we wish, 
 we either violate the fast by taking 
 meat, or we forfeit the merit of it by 
 our impatience and complaints. 
 
 I say nothing of our temperance in 
 the one meal allowed : for we seldom 
 prescribe any other limits to our appe- 
 tite, than what are suggested by sen- 
 sual avidity. In what part of 
 
 our fast, then, is any merit to be 
 found ? In the morning, the genera- 
 lity, so far from adhering strictly to 
 what is tacitly allowed in this king- 
 dom, and which is very little, abstain 
 only from butter, and take their fill 
 nearly as usual. At the great regular 
 meal of the day, every thing is given 
 up to the gratification of the appetite. 
 - And it is known that their collations, 
 as they are called, do, in point of 
 quantity at least, differ but little from
 
 of Lent. 443 
 
 their common evening refreshments : 
 sensuality, indeed, they cannot indulge, 
 because there is no tempting variety of 
 food, but they eat unsparingly of what 
 there is. Thus, abstaining from what 
 are called white meats at night -and 
 morning, and from flesh meat once or 
 twice in the week oftener than usual, is 
 the only penance that we perform in 
 Lent : or in other words, the relaxa- 
 tions, which our forefathers would have* 
 considered as a grievous infringement 
 of the precept, we consider as the high- 
 est point of observance. 
 
 You are well acquainted, my bre- 
 thren, that the Church existecl a thou- 
 sand years before any indulgence waS 
 granted to the faithful. One repast, 
 taken in the evening with thanksgiv- 
 ing, terminated the abstinence of the 
 whole day. And then, what a sorry 
 repast ! It consisted of herbs and ve- 
 getables : a repast of mourning, and 
 penance; where every thing breathed 
 U6
 
 444 First Sunday 
 
 the mortification of Jesus. Pious con- 
 versations, spiritual reading, and ex- 
 hortations to martyrdom, were the only 
 seasoning ; and they eat rather to pro- 
 long their sufferings, and to satisfy 
 nature, than to flatter sensuality. 
 
 The diminution of charity in the 
 breasts of the greater numher of her 
 children, obliged the Church in after 
 ages to relax from the rigour of her 
 , discipline in this point : she, however, 
 acted as, creditors are accustomed to 
 act with their bankrupt and insolvent 
 debtors ; she made a composition with 
 their tepidity ; she saved what she 
 could of the wreck, and acquitted them 
 of the rest with regret. 
 
 Every indulgence, therefore, which 
 the Church allows in addition to the one 
 meal, is a favour which she has grant- 
 ed through necessity. Our precau- 
 tions not to exceed cannot be too ri- 
 gorous. But where are the men, 
 
 who are solicitous to keep within the
 
 of Lent. 445 
 
 J * 
 
 narrow limits ? Alas ! few of this de- 
 scription are to be found : there are 
 none, I fear, except a small number of 
 retired souls, penitent solitaries, chaste 
 and tender virgins, habituated to the 
 yoke of the Lord from their infancy. 
 From appearances, one would judge 
 that severe discipline was intended for 
 them alone ; and that criminal, world- 
 ly-minded men, after a life of wicked- 
 ness and excess, were authorized to mi- 
 tigate and retrench every remnant of 
 penitential austerity. 
 
 Such, my brethren, is our fast of 
 Lent. Without the smallest intention 
 to exaggerate, such it is as I have de- 
 scribed it : such and no better. This, 
 then, in its fullest extent, is the entire 
 course of what has always been consi- 
 dered as the first and greatest of all our 
 penitential labours. And these are the 
 offerings which we make to God: these 
 the remains of that venerable institu- 
 tion^ which has been handed down to
 
 * 446 First Sunday 
 
 us from the earliest times of our apos- 
 tolic ancestors : these the fasts, for- 
 merly so famous amongst Christians, 
 and consecrated by the memorable ex- 
 amples of Moses, of Elias, and of Christ 
 himself. 
 
 3. I will not, however, dwell on this 
 discouraging subject any longer, but 
 continue the series of instructions 
 which I had formed for your benefit at 
 the commencement of this penitential 
 season. Let me exhort you, therefore, 
 in the first place, to bear in mind that 
 your works of self-denial and mortifi- 
 cation, at this time, must be devoted 
 to the expiation of the pleasures and 
 crimes of the past year. According to 
 the gospel, indeed, the whole- life of a 
 Christian should be devoted to mortifi- 
 cation. But in these days of degene- 
 racy, the~ Church despairs of inculcat- 
 ing with success the necessity of an 
 uninterrupted course of penance ; and 
 therefore, she insists particularly on the
 
 of Lent. 447 
 
 due observance of this time, lest the 
 spirit of penance should be totally ex- 
 tinguished in the breasts of her chil- 
 dren Fulfil, then, with alacrity this 
 easy course of penance which she im- 
 poses on you : and may the trivial suf- 
 ferings you will endure supply for 
 every other deficiency. Submit with 
 joy to so lenient a law. Do not mur- 
 mur under so slight a yoke ; and do not 
 exaggerate the inconveniences you may 
 experience, nor complain of the rigours 
 of this relaxed remnant of primitive 
 discipline. 
 
 Remember, likewise, that as the ob- 
 ject of the fast is to satisfy the justice 
 of God for your former infidelities, you 
 must be particularly on your guard 
 against the commission of fresh crimes. 
 If you are not, you destroy with one 
 hand, what you raise with the other ; 
 you offend your Judge, at the time 
 that you are endeavouring to appease 
 him. What will it profit you to ab-
 
 448 First Sunday 
 
 stain from meats, which are good in; 
 themselves, which God hath created, and 
 which may be lawfully eaten at other 
 times, if you abstain not from sin, 
 which, at all times, and in all seasons, 
 is strictly forbidden by the law of God? 
 What will your fasting and abstinence 
 avail you, if they are not accompanied 
 with purity of conscience, which alone 
 can insure you a reward from the great 
 Searcher of hearts ? Oh ! be not de- 
 ceived ; suffer what you will, unless 
 you refrain from sin, God will pay no 
 regard to your sufferings : fast as ri- 
 gorously as you please, God, says the 
 prophet,, will reject your fasts. For<, 
 can you suppose, even for a moment, 
 that fas-ting consists wholly and entire- 
 ly in. abstaining from forbidden food ? 
 This was the fast of the Jews, who foli- 
 lowed only the letter of the law, which 
 killeth. The fast of Christians is 
 sanctified by renouncing the ways of 
 sin, and is consummated by subduing
 
 of Lent. 449 
 
 the passions. If, therefore, you are 
 not more chaste, more humble, more 
 charitable, more patient, you fast not, 
 or at least you fast in vain. The law 
 of abstinence was instituted to promote 
 a reformation of your lives ; and if you 
 reform not, you do not fulfil the law, 
 or, at least, you fulfil it without profit. 
 Remember, in the third place, that, 
 as it is your duty, at this time, to satis- 
 fy the justice of God, you are not on- 
 ly to avoid sin, but you are required to 
 refrain from amusements, which may,, 
 perhaps, be innocent, and lawfully in- 
 dulged at other times. You are now 
 public penitents, striving to disarm the 
 anger of the Lord. Tears, silence, 
 prayers, are the only occupations suit- 
 ed to your penitential course. Plays, 
 parties of pleasure, indolence, and un- 
 necessary pastimes are forbidden. If 
 you partake of them, you renounce 
 the character of true penitents ; you. 
 abandon the enterprise, you interrupt
 
 450 First Sunday 
 
 your course. Yes : you violate the 
 law of Lent, as often as you mingle the 
 pleasures of the world with the holy af- 
 flictions of penance. 
 
 Lastly, remember, that it is the in- 
 tention of the Church, that you pre- 
 pare yourselves during these days of 
 penance, for the grace of the resurrec- 
 tion, and for the participation of the 
 Lamb of God, the true Christian pas- 
 sover. Begin, then, betimes, to eradi- 
 cate your vicious habits. Begin, im- 
 mediately, to abstain from the sins to 
 which you have been hitherto addict- 
 ed, and which you will lament at the 
 feet of God's ministers at the conclusi- 
 on of this season. For why should you 
 defer your preparation for the adora- 
 ble sacrament till the festival is at 
 
 ' V ' ^ ^ 
 
 hand ; and either expose yourselves to 
 the danger of an unworthy commu- 
 nion, or 'compel the judges of your 
 conscience to refuse you the bread of 
 heaven, at the time when they are
 
 of Lent. 451 
 
 breaking it for the rest of your bre- 
 thren ? Begin, I say, betimes : try 
 your strength ; try beforehand, whe- 
 ther your resolutions are sufficiently 
 firm to ensure your fidelity to the pro- 
 mises of amendment which you will 
 then make to God. It is a dreadful 
 thing to be exposed to the danger of 
 sacrilege and perjury. Fight reso- 
 lutely ; and prepare yourselves in such 
 a manner, that you may be able to al- 
 ledge the past as an earnest for the 
 faithful performance of your promises 
 for the future. The time that intervenes 
 is certainly not too long for your pre- 
 paration, after the life that you have 
 led. The space of forty days is not 
 more than is necessary for purifying 
 your souls from the defilement of sin, 
 and putting things in order for the re- 
 ception of the King of Kings and Lord 
 of Lords. 
 
 Hearken to the admonition of the 
 apostle read on this day : Behold now
 
 452 First Sunday 
 
 is the acceptable time : behold now is the 
 day of salvation, 2 Cor. vi. 2. Shake 
 off immediately the odious yoke under 
 which you have hitherto groaned; and 
 enter seriously on the ways of penance. 
 You have never experienced any real 
 pleasure in the paths of sin. The days, 
 in which you seemed to enjoy them, are 
 gone. The charm, that glittered be- 
 fore your eyes, is vanished; and no- 
 thing remains but the agonies of re- 
 morse in this world, and the prospect 
 of eternal misery in the next. What 
 are the advantages you -have derived ? 
 * Where are the fruits you have reaped 
 from your multiplied excesses ? Ah [ 
 you forged new chains to aggravate 
 your slavery ; you prepared fresh in- 
 gredients to embitter your cup withal* 
 Let the experience of the past unde- 
 ceive you; and return at length to the 
 Lord. Return to him for the love of 
 virtue; but if that motive be insuf- 
 ficient to influence your determine
 
 of Lent. 453 
 
 tion, fix your eyes on the vanity and 
 emptiness of all the pleasures of ini- 
 quity, and return to him on that ac- 
 count. 
 
 Great God! I ackno\dedge this 
 day in thy presence, that I have never 
 enjoyed any real pleasure at a distance 
 from thee: may thy holy name be 
 for ever blessed. Reject not these 
 feeble commencements of my repent- 
 ance. I have run with sinners, and 
 have trod in all their ways. But, my 
 God, I here confess that all the plea- 
 sures of the world were insufficient 
 to satisfy my desires ; and therefore I 
 renounce them for ever. To acknow- 
 ledge that this were the motive of my 
 return to thee, would overwhelm me 
 with confusion, were I not convinced 
 that it was thy grace, O merciful 
 God 1 that embittered my palate, and 
 rendered insipid all the delights which 
 the world presented to me. For, 
 how many souls are there, who are
 
 454 First Sunday of Lent. 
 
 never disgusted with vanity, never 
 wearied with iniquity ? How many 
 souls are there, who are buried in a 
 profound sleep even to the end ; who 
 open not their eyes until time is no 
 more; until, struck with the ago- 
 nies of death, and already judged, 
 they are on the point of appearing be- 
 fore thy terrible tribunal r 
 
 Increase, O God, these first symp- 
 toms of disquietude, which thy grace 
 has excited in my soul : increase them, 
 I beseech thee, and cause me at length 
 to feel that happy anxiety, which lead* 
 to true repentance. Add to the disre- 
 lish of unlawful pleasures, that true 
 love of justice and virtue, which will 
 complete thy triumph over a corrupted 
 heart, and from a vessel of wrath, 
 change it into a vessel of election and 
 honour.
 
 455 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY OF LENT. 
 
 ON THE MOTIVES FOR A CHANGE OF 
 LIFE. 
 
 This is the will of God, your sanctifica- 
 tion. T .v ''.'.. . 1 Thess. iv. 3. 
 
 whose mer- 
 cies seem to be more abundant in pro- 
 portion as our iniquities increase, com- 
 missions me again to declare to you, 
 that in the dispensations of his justice 
 he has your sanctification. alone in 
 view. 
 
 In the old law, when his people had 
 abandoned the ways of virtue, He sent 
 his prophets to announce that his 
 avenging arm was extended ; and, by
 
 456 Second Sunday 
 
 the terror of his threats, He stemmed 
 the course of their crying enormities. 
 
 Then Jerusalem cloathed herself 
 
 in sackcloth and ashes : her priests 
 wept between the porch and the altar : 
 her elders assembled in the temple, 
 and with their enfeebled voices invok- 
 ed the God of Israel : the bride neg- 
 lected the ornaments of her state : the 
 desolate virgins made the air resound 
 with their sighs and lamentations : and 
 the Lord, moved by their tears and re- 
 pentance, restrained his arm, and look- 
 ed down with pity and compassion on 
 that unfaithful city. 
 
 Our ministry, in these days of salva- 
 tion, is the same. As all flesh hath cor- 
 rupted its ways, he sends us, as he for- 
 merly sent the prophets, not to an- 
 nounce future calamities, but to excite 
 you to repentance by the view of the 
 chastisements which he has already in- 
 flicted on the Christian world. He en- 
 deavours to draw you to himself, not by
 
 of Lent. 457 
 
 threats, but by the evils which he has 
 scattered with profusion around you. 
 We are not, however, sent by an im- 
 placable Judge, but by a God, who 
 pities your blindness, who wills your 
 sanctification, and who opens to you 
 the bosom of his eternal mercies. 
 
 Attend, therefore, beloved Christi- 
 ans, to the voice of the Lord. Behold 
 now is the acceptable time ; harden not 
 your hearts. Be converted to me, 
 saith the Lord, in fasting, and weep- 
 ing, and supplications : rend your 
 hearts, and not your garments ; and 
 be converted to the Lord your God, 
 because he is compassionate, and rich 
 in mercies, and because he is ready, on 
 your repentance, to suspend the cala- 
 mities which his justice has begun to 
 inflict upon you. 
 
 , This is .the day of salvation. The 
 gates of heaven are thrown open : 
 the blood of Jesus pleads power- 
 fully in your behalf: the cross is dis- 
 
 VOL. i. X
 
 4.58 Second Sundatf 
 
 played before you. Resist not, my 
 beloved friends, these graces of your 
 God : he invites you to return to him 
 by every motive: he strikes terror in- 
 to your souls when you look back on 
 your past sins; he encourages you by 
 the example of Jesus, and of all his 
 elect throughout the world ; he assists 
 you by the prayers of the whole Church; 
 and he terrifies you by the public ca- 
 lamities which his justice has begun to 
 inflict on the earth. 
 
 These are the motives which I am 
 commissioned to lay before you, in or- 
 der to hasten your return to God by a 
 sincere and perfect conversion. 
 
 1. Were you to call to mind the hisr 
 tory of your past life, you would there 
 alone discover sufficient inducements 
 to determine you to put your house in 
 order without delay against the great 
 day of the Lord. Consider for a mo- 
 ment, what your life has hitherto been. 
 Beginning from the moment that you
 
 of Lent. 459 
 
 received your existence from God, 
 what use have you made of your reason, 
 of the powers of your body, and of the ' 
 faculties of your soul ? How did you 
 employ your youthful years? What 
 profit have you reaped from your ta- 
 lents and acquirements ? How have 
 you spent the time which ought to have 
 been employed for heaven ? How have 
 you endured afflictions, losses, and 
 sicknesses ? What use have you made 
 of the mysteries of religion, of its so- 
 lemnities and sacraments, of the in- 
 structions, and of all the other aids 
 with which Christianity has supplied 
 you aids, which inspired the saints 
 with an increased ardour in their spi- 
 ritual warfare, and by the means of 
 which they were enabled to complete 
 the edifice of a truly Christian life? 
 Take, then, I say, a retrospective view, 
 and you will behold, with astonish- 
 ment, that your whole life has been a 
 continued tissue of excesses, of crimes, 
 
 , X2
 
 460 Second Sunday 
 
 of tepidity and sloth. If at any time 
 the thread has been broken ; or in other 
 words, if, from time to time, you have 
 listened to the inspirations of heaven, 
 and have felt the glow of divine love in 
 your breasts, you have steeled your 
 hearts against it ; you have quickly re- 
 turned to your former ways, and have 
 added to your other crimes the guilt of 
 turning'your backs on the gracious in- 
 vitations of your Redeemer. 
 
 How indispensably necessary for 
 your eternal welfare, my beloved, is a 
 change of life ! And have you as yet 
 fixed the time for your conversion ? 
 Reflect that your days flow rapidly on ; 
 years roll away in quick succession ; 
 youth is vanishing ; and life itself is on 
 the wing. Your friends, your relati- 
 ons, your companions are daily dropping 
 into the grave. You yourselves, per- 
 haps, are only a few paces distant from 
 the same term. The days which have 
 already flown over your head are like a
 
 of Lent. 
 
 dream, a vapour which has disap- 
 peared, and left no trace behind. The 
 days you have yet to live will disappear 
 in the same manner, and leave your 
 hands as empty as the former have 
 done. Why not, then, take advan- 
 tage of the present moment ? You have 
 numberless crimes to expiate ; why not 
 accept the mercies of the Lord, now 
 that they are offered to you ? Time is 
 now at your disposal : delay not, for, 
 ere long, time will be no more. , Your 
 experience of the vanity of the world, 
 and of all its fleeting pleasures, has 
 long since convinced you that happi- 
 ness was not to be found in its em- 
 braces : you have discovered that sin, 
 although decked in the most alluring 
 charms, is invariably accompanied by 
 
 anxiety, remorse, and misery.- On 
 
 what pretexts, therefore, do you defer 
 the reformation of your lives ? Have 
 they not been sufficiently criminal ta 
 induce the necessity of an immediate 
 X3
 
 / 462 Second Sunday 
 
 change ? ' Do you expect that your 
 chains , will break asunder of them- 
 selves? Do you wait for an opportu- 
 nity of doing penance without any lar 
 hour or expence? Do you intend to 
 delay this great work till you are 
 stretched on the bed of death, on the 
 supposition that the sentiments of fear, 
 which will then agitate your souls, will- 
 expiate the sins of your whole lives ? 
 Or, have you renounced the hopes of 
 salvation, like the impious who know 
 not God ? Ah ! beloved Christians, if 
 you had only once been so unfortunate 
 as to fall into mortal sin, a whole life 
 would not have been too much to 
 have devoted to tears and repent- 
 ance. Defiled as you are with' number- 
 less transgressions, can you refuse to 
 consecrate to God the small portion 
 that remains? To-morrow vour soul 
 
 tf 
 
 will be demanded of you ; and will you 
 dispute with God the small space tliat 
 intervenes? Too happy ought you to
 
 of Lent. 463 
 
 esteem yourselves, that the Lord in his 
 mercy will condescend to accept this 
 small remnant ; that he deigns to 
 . stretch out his fatherly hand to you 
 after so long, so dismal a shipwreck ; 
 and that he is ready to embrace and re- 
 ceive you into favour, although so 
 disfigured, and defiled by sin ? 
 
 2. Recollect, moreover, that by de- 
 ferring your conversion at this time, 
 you renounce all the merit arising 
 from the due observance of Lent. You 
 fast ; but what will your fast avail 
 you, if you forsake not your evil ways ? 
 What fruit will you gather from your 
 abstinence, from our instructions, and 
 from the penitential exercises K of this 
 time, if you bieak not your chains 
 asunder, if you arise not from the deep 
 abyss into which you have fallen ? The 
 Lord requires in the first instance a 
 change of heart ; and if you refuse him 
 this, neither prayer, nor fasting, HOP 
 X4
 
 464- i A.-';. Second Sunday 
 
 alms will be entitled to any merit in his 
 sight. 
 
 Should there, however, be any in this 
 assembly who refuse to turn to the 
 Lord at this holy time, I would not be 
 understood to advise them to neglect 
 the law of fasting, under the pretence 
 that the observance of the letter is of 
 no avail to the obstinate sinner : for 
 this would be to advise them to take 
 part with the impious at once. No : 
 dearly beloved,far be it from me. My ad- 
 vice is, that since God continues to in- 
 viteyou to holiness and justice; since he 
 still stretches out his hand to raise you 
 like Lazarus from the grave, and per- 
 haps has decreed that this present Lent 
 should witness the reformation of your 
 lives, and a happy termination of all 
 your miseries and crimes: my advice, 1^ 
 say, is, that you enter the lists coura- 
 geously with the just, and that it he 
 your earnest desire to fight, not as
 
 of Lent. 4&T 
 
 beating the air, to run, not as running 
 in vain. By this means, your observ- 
 ance of the letter will be a step, at 
 least, towards a change of life a pre- 
 paration for the grace of God ; by this 
 means you will unite yourselves ex- 
 teriorly with the just; you will testify 
 your fear of disobeying God ; you will 
 express your respect for his laws ; you 
 \vill pay homage to religion ; in a 
 word, you will have some reason; to 
 hope that, ere long, you will enter the 
 gates of mercy. But we will pass on to 
 the motives arising from the cross of 
 Jesus, and the examples of the saints. 
 
 3. The cross is the only inheritance 
 bequeathed by Christ to his Church. 
 Our union with him in heaven depends 
 on our suffering with him on earth, 
 2 Tim. 11. 22. 'This is the spirit of our 
 Avocation, and the foundation of our 
 hope. This alone distinguishes us . 
 from the idolatrous nations who know 
 not Christ. Take away from the mo-
 
 466 Second Sunday 
 
 rality of the gospel, the maxims of the 
 cross, self-denials, humility, the re- 
 nouncing of our own will, and a tho- 
 rough contempt of the world, and of all 
 its fleetingpleasures; and we might have 
 learnt the rest from the philosophers, 
 whose doctrines abounded with moral 
 precepts, and inculcated the necessity 
 of a strict guard against vice and 
 excess. 
 
 - The cross, therefore, of Jesus, pro- 
 perly constitutes the grand character- 
 istic of a Christian, and is the great 
 road to salvation, which he has marked 
 
 out to his disciples. ! say, the cross 
 
 of Jesus : for the world has its crosses ; 
 our passions have their crosses ; and we 
 possess the art of forming to ourselves 
 crosses of various kinds, that are purely 
 imaginary. These, however, are the 
 . crosses of concupiscence* They are 
 the t punishments due to our passions,, 
 and not the remedies of our crimes. 
 They are the sad consequences of vice,
 
 of Lent. 467 
 
 and not the rewards of virtue. And 
 yet, we submit, to them all; but, from 
 the cross of Jesus, we turn away with 
 precipitation and disgust. We refuse 
 to suffer any thing for his sake : we 
 neither resist our passions, our humours, 
 our caprices, nor make the sacrifice 
 of our disorderly inclinations or unr 
 lawful pleasures. We carry the cross 
 of our passions, the cross of our dis- 
 contents, the cross of our hatred and 
 envy ; that is to say, the cross of the 
 world and of the d-evil, and we^attempt 
 not to ease ourselves of the load. Alas ! 
 the cross of Christ is pleasant, and 
 much lighter, and we throw it from us ! 
 the cross of Christ imparts happiness 
 .to those who carry it, and sweetens the 
 crosses of the world, and we will not 
 give it the preference ! the cross of 
 Christ is the price of eternity, and we 
 think it beneath our notice ! 
 
 What infatuation is this ! How long 
 shall we be the dupes of our own illu- 
 X 6
 
 46*8 Second Sunday 
 
 sions, and shut our eyes to the light of 
 heaven ? Why will we not be convinc- 
 ed that the Lord sweetens the yoke we 
 carry for his sake ? We have experi- 
 enced that the yoke of the world is a 
 yoke of iron, which overpowers and 
 destroys : we believe that the wages of 
 sin are death ; and why will we not be- 
 lieve that the grace of God is everlast- 
 ing life. ? % 
 
 4. Ah ! be no longer deceived r 
 
 o 
 
 open your eyes to the light which the 
 Sun of Justice throws around you. 
 Now is the time to arise from sleep. 
 The graces which flow from the cross 
 during this season, offer you resources, 
 which you may not perhaps enjoy at 
 another time. The example of the 
 whole Church invites you, and the 
 prayers of all the elect are offered up in 
 your behalf. The saints crucify their 
 flesh by fasting and retirement ; and 
 their voice, like the voice of innocent 
 blood, ascends to the throne of God,
 
 of Lent. 469 
 
 not to solicit his judgments, but to 
 draw down his mercies. Be not, .then, 
 discouraged by the idea of difficulties : 
 but have confidence, and good will. If 
 the corporal mortifications of Judith 
 alone in Israel, reconciled the Lord 
 with his people, and averted the effects 
 of his just indignation, what may you 
 not expect from so many faithful souls, 
 who, in every quarter of the globe; offer 
 up their prayers and austerities to hea- 
 ven for the pardon of your sins ? What 
 may you not expect from so many 
 holy pastors, who contribute their sup- 
 plications and labours to gain you to 
 Christ ? from so many pious solita- 
 ries, from so many chaste virgins, 
 who, in the recesses of their retreat, 
 mourn like the dove, and endeavour 
 to disarm the anger of the Lord, and 
 change the thunders of his vengeance 
 
 into the mild dews of benediction and 
 grace? 
 
 Every assistance, my dear friends, is
 
 470 Second Sunday 
 
 offered you. And will you still refuse" 
 to enter into the bosom of the cle- 
 mency of your God ? Will you oppose 
 the efforts with which the whole 
 Gnurch endeavours to recall you to a 
 more Christian and holy life ? Are you. 
 obstinately bent on perishing, at the 
 time that the whole congregation of the 
 just are stretching out their hands to 
 
 save you from shipwreck ? What 
 
 more can the Lord do for you ? He 
 tortures you with remorse of consci- 
 ence, and you resist the motions of his 
 grace. He offers you the abundant 
 resources of religion, and you refuse 
 their aid. He unites in your favour 
 the prayers of all his elect, and you 
 render them useless by your obstinate 
 impenitence. He proclaims, by the 
 mouth of his ministers, the promises 
 and the threats of his law, and they, are 
 effaced from your minds the moment 
 they are pronounced. What more can 
 he do -for you? The only remaining
 
 of Lent. 47 1 
 
 access to your heart is punishment. He 
 must chastise you. He must execute 
 the threats of his indignation. This is 1 
 his last resource. He 'has spoken in 
 vain : now he must strike, in order to 
 compel you to listen to his voice. 
 
 5. Having, therefore, filled up the 
 measure of our iniquities, he has at 
 length poured out the bitter chalice of 
 his wrath on our guilty heads. He has 
 abandoned his inheritance ; he has de- 
 livered up the kingdoms of Christianity 
 to the rage of our mortal enemy, the 
 prince of darkness. He has permitted 
 the dissemination of the most pernici- 
 ous principles, of doctrines the most 
 , destructive of society, of harmony, of 
 peace, and of all our beloved worldly 
 enjoyments. He has permitted the 
 flames of war to ravage nations, and 
 destroy kingdoms. He has not spared 
 even the seat of* Christianity itself. He 
 has empowered misery, wretchedness, 
 and want, to fix their empire on the
 
 472 Second Sunday 
 
 ruins of prosperity, happiness, and 
 abundance ; and to heap their horrid 
 gifts with pjofusion on their devoted 
 subjects. 
 
 Yes, beloved friends, his wrath has 
 burst over our heads. The enormity 
 of our crimes has ascended to the tri- 
 bunal of his justice. He has looked 
 down from his high sanctuary, says 
 the prophet, (Ps. ci. 0.) and he has 
 beheld the faithful without morals, the 
 nobility without religion, the ministers 
 of the altar without piety, and the 
 fairest of our creation without chastity, 
 and without modesty. 
 
 He has looked down from his high 
 sanctuary, and he has beheld adulte- 
 ries, fornications, blasphemy, and im- 
 piety,, honoured and applau'ded in the 
 midst of his people; rapines and injus- 
 tice covered with the specious title of 
 lawful gain and traffic ; the most ex- 
 travagant excesses authorized by the 
 example of the great ; and profusion
 
 of Lent. 473 
 
 and luxury every where increasing 
 witn public calamities. 
 
 He has looked down from his high 
 sanctuary, and he has beheld the cor- 
 ruption of the whole human race. He 
 has seen them bend their servile knee 
 to mammon, and offer up their sighs 
 and tears, their prayers and supplica- 
 cations at the unhallowed shrine of the 
 golden calf : he has seen the false 
 deity, the molten god, the object of 
 universal adoration. He has seen reli- 
 gion despised, and treated as the low- 
 est weakness ; and the few that still 
 continue to pay their adoration to him, 
 he has seen coming to him with divid- 
 ed hearts, and confining their worship 
 to mere exterior horn age, to a few pray- 
 ers pronounced with their lips, whilst 
 their minds are given up to tepidity, 
 to 4 sensuality, to hatred, animosity, 
 and discontent. In a word, he has 
 seen himself dethroned from the hearts
 
 474 Second Sunday 
 
 of his people, and faith almost banish- 
 ed from the earth. 
 
 He has^ therefore, discharged the 
 cup of his indignation and wrath 'on 
 the earth: he has let loose the impla- 
 cable spirits, war, pestilence, and fa- 
 mine, to ravage the whole Christian 
 world. t <i$ii - 
 
 And what use have we made of these 
 public chastisements ? What measures 
 have we taken to disarm the anger of 
 the Lord ? We render ourselves more 
 criminal by our complaints, impati- 
 ence, and discontent ; and we neither 
 lament, nor do penance for our mur- 
 ders, our sorceries, our fornications, 
 and our thefts ! 
 
 Good God 1 how shall I endure the 
 scrutiny of thy justice ! What hast 
 thou not done for my salvation ? and 
 what have I not done to obstruct the 
 
 eifect of thy mercies ? Thou hast 
 
 exerted every means to preserve thy 

 
 of Lent. 475 
 
 x ,- 
 
 creature from destruction : Thou hast 
 invited him by thy graces and inspira- 
 tions ; Thou hast stimulated him by 
 anguish of mind, by thwarting his pas- 
 sions, by, disappointing his hopes ; 
 Thou hast endeavoured to compel him 
 by calamities both public and private : 
 Thou hast moreover formed his heart 
 for goodness ; Thou hast instilled into 
 it sentiments of virtue and uprightness 
 sentiments, which made him shud- 
 der at impiety and excess, which inces- 
 santly chided him in secret for his 
 shameful weaknesses, and importuned 
 him to return to Thee. My God ! 
 what reply shall I make, covered as I 
 am with thy "benefits, and with my 
 
 own ingratitude ? Lord, cease not 
 
 to stretch out thy hand to my relief. 
 Thou hast already done too much, to 
 suffer thy creature to perish without 
 aid. The more unworthy I am of new 
 favours, the more will I hope in 
 Thee. The wretchedness of my state
 
 4?6 Second Sunday of Lent. 
 
 increases my confidence, and the ex- 
 cess of my miseries is the only title 
 on which I claim thy eternal mer- 
 cies.
 
 477 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY OF LENT. 
 
 ON INCONSTANCY IN THE WAYS OF 
 VIRTUE. 
 
 And the last state of that man becometh 
 worse than thejirst. . . . Luke xi. 26*. 
 
 THIS parable of 
 the impure spirit is, according to St. 
 Chrysostom, a mystical prophecy of 
 our Saviour, debouncing the final re- 
 probation of the Jews, and the evils 
 which were, in a short time, to befal 
 Jerusalem. He seems to describe the 
 wretched state to which that ungrate- 
 ful city was so frequently reduced by 
 the sins of their fathers, and td display 
 the excess of his mercies in as frequent-
 
 478 Third Sunday 
 
 ly hastening to her relief. Hence, he 
 leaves them to conclude, that Jerusa- 
 lem will so often relapse into her infi- 
 delity, that God will at length entirely 
 forsake her ; and her last state will be- 
 come worse than the first. 
 
 Let us apply this parable to ourselves. 
 We, like the unfaithful Jerusalem, have 
 been oftentimes delivered from the im- 
 pure spirit ; and as often have we again 
 opened the doors of our hearts to him : 
 we have oftentimes bewailed our of- 
 fences ; and as often have we dried up 
 our tears by a. repetition of the same 
 crimes : we have oftentimes been dis- 
 gusted with the world and its follies, 
 and then we returned to the Lord ; the 
 next day, disgusted with piety, we 
 demanded back our hearts, and re- 
 stored them to the world : our whole 
 lives have been a continued succession - 
 of confessions and relapses. After so 
 many ineffectual attempts, therefore, 
 we have every reason to fear that God
 
 of Lent. 479 
 
 will at length entirely forsake us, and 
 that our last state will become worse 
 than the first. Perhaps you may ask 
 me, in what consists the danger of this 
 state ? We are not extortioners ; we are 
 not unjust ; we are not adulterers : we 
 fast ; we frequent the sacraments ; we 
 are not like the rest of men; why then 
 should we fear that the Lord will aban- 
 don us ? Is he rendered more inexor- 
 able by the Jew sins which we commit, 
 than by the multiplied -enormities of 
 others ? I answer, that the resources 
 which have frequently wrought the 
 conversion of the most abandoned sin- 
 ners, are too weak to complete the re- 
 formation of the fickle and inconstant 
 Christian ; and that of all characters, 
 the character of inconstancy is the 
 most remote from salvation. This 
 truth I will endeavour to establish in 
 this discourse. 
 
 1. Although the spirit of God 
 breathes where he will, and can, by in-
 
 480 Third Sunday 
 
 numerable means, draw the rebellious 
 heart of man to himself; although he 
 can work a change in the minds of the 
 most voluptuous, and turn their 
 schemes of pleasure into plans of re- 
 pentance ; there is, nevertheless, a 
 class of men who have frustrated all the 
 merciful designs of Providence, and of 
 whose salvation, consequently, little 
 hopes can be entertained. 
 
 This class is composed of those un- 
 steady and fickle Christians, who are 
 virtuous and worldly by turns; whore- 
 lapse into their former crimes as often as 
 they repent of them ; who are, at one 
 time, full of zeal for the honour and glo- 
 ry of God; and at another, full of ardour 
 in the pursuit of vanity and pleasure. 
 
 Of the salvation of this numerous 
 class of people, I say, little -hope can 
 be entertained. St. Paul says in ex- 
 press terms, that it is impossible for those 
 who were once enlightened^ have tasted 
 also the heavenly gifts, and were made
 
 of Lent. 481 
 
 partakers of the Holy Ghost, have more- 
 over tasted the good word of God, and 
 the powers of the world to come, and are 
 fallen away, to be again renewed to pe- 
 nance! Heb.vi. 4,5,6. Candour, indeed, 
 obliges me to acknowledge, that by the 
 word impossible, is meant, not an abso- 
 lute impossibility in the sight of God, 
 for the examples of David and St. Peter 
 are proofs of the contrary, but only, 
 that it is impossible to be renewed to 
 penance by the ordinary means em- 
 ployed by Providence for reclaiming 
 sinners. This position I will prove by 
 a few conclusive arguments. 
 
 The first method employed by the 
 Providence of God to withdraw the 
 sinner from the evil of his M'ays, is to 
 infuse into his soul a clear knowledge 
 of the truth. The children of the 
 world are immersed in the shades of 
 darkness : they are ignorant of the 
 great duties of religion ; they know not 
 that their maxims are false, their pre- 
 
 VOL. i. Y
 
 482 Third Sunday 
 
 judices unfounded, their customs dan- 
 gerous and sinful. The moment, 
 therefore, that the light of truth bursts 
 upon their sight, they are struck with 
 amazement ; they awake, as it were, 
 from a profound sleep ; they are asto- 
 nished to find that they are ignorant of 
 the only thing which it behoved them 
 to know ; they are startled at the 
 sight of the precipice, on the brink of 
 which they had been sleeping. These 
 first agitations of the soul are seconded 
 by the powerful attractions of grace, 
 and a sudden and permanent conver- 
 sion is frequently the effect. 
 
 This plentiful source of benedicti- 
 ons, however, is closed to the incon- 
 stant Christian ; or rather, it has been 
 frequently opened to him, and his in- 
 constancy has always prevented its ef- 
 fect. He has oftentimes been enlight- 
 ened, and as often has he replunged 
 into darkness : he has oftentimes seen 
 the error of his ways, and the danger
 
 of Lent. 483 
 
 to which his salvation is exposed, and 
 as often has he stilled the tumults of 
 his "breast hy a few works of piety, and 
 returned to his former habits. The 
 first time, indeed, that the light of 
 truth flashed on his soul, he felt the 
 agitations which I have described ; he 
 was for a time fervent, and repentant. 
 But now, that he has so often turned 
 his back on his God, the returns of 
 light are like the glimmerings of an 
 
 O ^^ t-J 
 
 -expiring taper, the gleam is momen- 
 tary and faint ; it enlightens not his 
 soul ; he can barely discern the gross 
 defilements of more heinous sins, and 
 lie vainly imagines that he removes 
 them by a mechanical reception of the 
 sacraments. 
 
 Much better would it have been, says 
 
 an apostle, if he had never known the way 
 
 of justice, than after having knonn it, 
 
 ' to turn Back, 2 Pet. ii. 21. The Jews, 
 
 on their return from captivity, melted 
 
 into tears, when the book of the law, 
 
 Y2
 
 484 Third Sunday 
 
 of which they had been so long de- 
 prived, was publicly read by the pro- 
 phet Esdras. They struck their breasts, 
 they dismissed their unlawful wives, 
 and they regulated their conduct ac- 
 cording to its maxims : so powerful is 
 the force of truth not abused. But the 
 daily lecture of this same law occasion- 
 ed, in process of time, not a reform of 
 conduct, but a hardness of heart. In 
 the same manner, the most enlightened 
 sinners, now a days, are generally the 
 most incorrigible : they are familiar with 
 every argument with which we enforce 
 the necessity of repentance; they will 
 speak with a flow of eloquence on the 
 vanities of the world, and on the im- 
 portance of salvation. But the know- 
 ledge of the truth seems to increase 
 their tranquillity : they are veterans in 
 the warfare against God ; and, vainly 
 supposing that it will be, at any time, 
 as easy to love the truth, as it is to 
 know the truth, they remain delibe-
 
 of Lent. 485 
 
 rately obstinate in the ways of sin ; till 
 at length they 'are surprised by the un- 
 expected summons of the Almighty -to 
 render an account of their stewardship. 
 
 Depend upon it, my friends : there 
 
 is every reason to be alarmed for the 
 salvation of these enlightened sinners. 
 
 o * 
 
 who know every thing, and who prac- 
 tise nothing. Yes : it is impossible for 
 those who have been enlightened, and 
 who are fallen away, to be again re- 
 newed to penance. 
 
 2. In the. second place, sinners are 
 frequently reclaimed by t he taste of the 
 heavenly gift of virtue, which always 
 accompanies the beginnings of 1 wis- 
 dom ; and by the joy which arises in 
 the soul when she is first disengaged 
 from the enormous load of guilt, and in 
 possession of the sweets of peace and 
 innocence. Ah ! dear Christians, no- 
 thing can exceed the pious transports 
 of the soul, which after having been 
 buried in the loathsome sink of vice, 
 
 / 'Y3
 
 486 Third Sunday 
 
 begins to breathe the pure air of piety, 
 and to taste the delights of love. Thou 
 hast broken my bonds asunder, exclaims 
 the penitent David in an extasy of de- 
 light : how happy am I to be of the 
 number of thy servants ! how glori- 
 ous is it to reckon amongst my ances- 
 tors one only soul who has been faith- 
 ful to Thee more glorious than a long 
 list of potentates and conquerors ! / 
 am thy servant, O Lord, and the son of 
 thy handmaid, Ps. cxv. 
 
 These -are the first attractions of 
 grace, and these are its effects on the 
 soul which has never before experienc- 
 ed the force of love, or tasted how 
 sweet is the Lord. But, as for the in- 
 constant Christian, who has so often 
 been in love with piety, and as often 
 returned to his former pleasures, what 
 new source of enjoyment can he open 
 by a change of life, of which he has 
 not already tasted too often ? Ah ! if 
 he had a heart of steel, it might be
 
 of Lent. 487 
 
 softened by grace, and made suscepti- 
 ble of retaining its impression. But, 
 as the prophet says, he has a heart of 
 wax, susceptible of every impression, 
 and incapable of retaining any : one 
 impression obliterates the former, and 
 the last that is made keeps full posses- 
 sion till it is succeeded by another. He 
 is fervent in his fits of devotion, and 
 when these are past, he is solely bent 
 on sensual gratifications : his love is 
 centered in God during the moments 
 of compunction, and when these are 
 elapsed, the world alone can satisfy his 
 desires. 
 
 If this unhappy man could be con- 
 vinced of his danger, he would indeed 
 tremble. Our Lord himself says, that 
 whoever putteth his hand to the plough, 
 and looketh back, is not Jit for the 
 kingdom of God t . Luke ix. 62. He 
 does not say, that he loseth his title to 
 the kingdom of God, or that be ex- 
 poseth himself to the danger of being 
 Y4
 
 488 Third Sunday 
 
 excluded from it ; but lie is not Jit for 
 the kingdom of God ; that is to say, 
 that his inclinations and dispositions, 
 both of mind and body, render him 
 unfit for completing the great work of 
 salvation. When we say that a man is 
 not Jit for any particular state of life, 
 for the church for instance, for the 
 army, or . for the law ; we mean that 
 his natural and acquired dispositions 
 are such as to preclude every probabi- 
 lity of success in that state. In the 
 same state does our Lord say, that of 
 all characters, the character of incon- 
 stancy is the most unfit for the kingdom 
 of God, Lukeix. 62. 
 ' The hardened, the obdurate sinner 
 may be softened into repentance by the 
 unctions of grace : Manasses in chains 
 adores the true God, whose altars he 
 had overturned : the publican does pe- 
 nance; Zacheus restores his ill-gotten 
 goods \ Magdalen washes away her 
 defilements at the feet of Jesus : but
 
 of Lent. 489 
 
 an Achab, a Sedeceas, \vho, at one 
 time, covered themselves with sack- 
 cloth and ashes, and at another/ wal- 
 lowed in the mire of sin ; who, at one 
 time, were obedient to the instructive 
 and inspired voice of the prophets and 
 ministers of God, and at another, stu- 
 died to heap the most outrageous in-? 
 suits on their venerable heads; ah f 
 the scriptures no where inform us that 
 they died penitent : no, their levity, 
 their inconstancy rendered them unfit 
 for the kingdom of God. 
 
 My friends ; in order to be a true 
 Christian, a constant disciple of the 
 crucified Jesus, a man must possess a 
 resolute mind : he must know how to 
 choose, and how to abide by his choice: 
 he must not be impeded by obstacles: 
 he must be guided, not by inclination, 
 but by the rules of the gospel. There 
 must be that something great, elevat- 
 ed, and noble in his character, which 
 exalts the mind above vulgar prejudices 
 V5
 
 490 Third Sunday 
 
 and ideas, and enriches it with true 
 wisdom. He must he separated from 
 the company of the inconstant, who, 
 in the words of St. Jude, may be com- 
 pared to clouds without water, which 
 are driven about by .the winds ; lo 
 wandering stars, which have no fixed 
 course ; to the raging sea, which casts 
 from its bosom the lifeless corpse, and 
 by the next swell of its waves swallows 
 it up again. 
 
 3. In the third place, the repenting 
 sinner is confirmed in his resolutions 
 by the sacraments. The awful solem- 
 nity of the tribunal of penance, the 
 shame and confusion occasioned by 
 the declaration of his crimes, make an 
 impression on his mind which is not 
 easily effaced . : But what advan- 
 tage does the inconstant Christian de- 
 rive from this plentiful and last re- 
 source? Do these things make an im- 
 pression on him ? No : he is familiar- 
 ized with confusion; he is hardened
 
 of Lent. 431 
 
 against impression : he changes the 
 waters of life into waters of maledic- 
 tion ; he profanes the sacraments, 
 
 Yes, I say, he profanes the sacra- 
 ments ; and I appeal to your candour 
 for the truth of my assertion. Can it be 
 said that the man who is constantly 
 sinning and constantly repenting ; who 
 rises up from the unclean bed of vice, 
 merely to shake himself and lay down 
 again ; who says, I have sinned, in or- 
 der to sin again with greater freedom ; 
 can it be said, that such a man is. re* 
 ceived every time into favour, and 
 made acceptable to God ? Ought it not 
 rather to be said, that he mocks, that 
 he insults the Almighty, and that he 
 receives the sacraments to his greater 
 condemnation r 
 
 I pretend not, however, to insinu- 
 ate that a worthy participation of the 
 sacraments will fix the soul unchange- 
 ably in a state of justification ; or, that 
 we must conclude that we have been
 
 492 Third Sunday 
 
 guilty of a profanation, if we fall again 
 into our former sins. But my object 
 is, to prove that the man who is truly 
 justified in the sight of God, retains 
 the deep impression for a length of 
 time ; and if he falls again, that he falls 
 not immediately, but continues stead- 
 fast until time and repeated tempta- 
 tions have obliterated the impression, 
 until many trivial faults have led 
 him on by degrees to the fatal preci- 
 pice ; for no one passes on a sudden 
 from a state pf justice to a state of 
 sin. 
 
 A true conversion is not the work of 
 .a moment. It requires floods of tears, 
 long prayers, painful self-denials, and 
 perseverance in good works. Now, 
 what a person has acquired with such 
 difficulty and labour, he will not easily 
 part with : he will not on a sudden 
 pass from a state of justice to a state 
 of sin. i ; -;s 
 
 A true conversion is a work of firm-
 
 of LenK 493 
 
 ness and solidity. It forms the sinner 
 into a new creature ; it changes the 
 inclinations ; it renews the whole man ; 
 it builds the house upon a rock. Now, 
 the first breath of temptation cannot 
 destroy that which is capable of M'ith- 
 standing the violence of the united 
 elements. The house that falls as soon 
 as the waves beat, and the winds blow, 
 is built on quick ,sand. 
 
 A true conversion is the work of 
 thought. A person deliberates before 
 he undertakes it he hesitates, he 
 trembles he shrinks he wills, and 
 he wills not he reckons up the obsta- 
 cles, and calculates their effects he is 
 lost in the multitude and variety of 
 his reflections. Now, a work that is 
 undertaken after such mature consi- 
 deration, certainly will not be aban- 
 doned in an instant. 
 
 A great change, therefore, must be 
 wrought, when the sinner is duly pre- 
 pared for the sacrament, aaid really ab-
 
 494 # Third Sunday 
 
 solved in the sight of God You, there- 
 fore, of my present hearers, who are 
 addicted to mortal sin, you may con- 
 clude, that, rf you are the same after 
 confession as you were before ; if yon 
 are as eager in the same criminal pur- 
 suits ; if yon feel the same repugnance 
 to fasts, watch ings, prayer, and re- 
 tirement ; if you take no precautions to 
 guard against future sins ; you, 1 say, 
 may conclude, that as the finger of God 
 is not visible in your conversion, the 
 devil is not cast out of your soul. No ; 
 my God ! when thou recallest a sinner 
 from his evil ways, the effects of thy 
 grace are durable ; it is not received 
 and forfeited again almost at the same 
 moment. 
 
 For this reason, the pretended re- 
 pentance of these inconstant souls has 
 been always treated by the saints as 
 public insults offered to the most sa- 
 cred mysteries of religion. They forbad 
 them to approach the altar, they consi-
 
 of Lent. 40,5 
 
 dered them as unclean^ before whom it 
 Avas unlawful to throw the pearls of the 
 Sanctuary the Holy of Holies. They 
 even suspected the reality of that Chris- 
 tian's repentance who relapsed only 
 once into his former sins. This, jhpw- 
 ever, would be an excess of severity in 
 these times : an excess, as detrimental 
 to religion, by deterring the faithful 
 from their duty, as a criminal compli- 
 ance would be in admitting all indiscri- 
 minately. It is, nevertheless, an indu- 
 bitable truth, that the body of the Lord 
 should not be given to those who have 
 repeatedly profaned it ; that reliance 
 should not be placed on promises which 
 have been repeatedly broken ; that ab- 
 solution should not be pronounced, 
 when there is every probability that it 
 will draw down the maledictions of 
 heaven, and strengthen the bad habits 
 of the false penitent, instead of procur- 
 ing his discharge from God. 
 Of all characters, therefore, my be*
 
 Third Sunday 
 
 loved friends, the character of incon- 
 stancy is the most unfit for the kingdom 
 of heaven. Hardened sinners, as I said 
 above, are frequently^ con verted by the 
 means I have described. But these 
 means are insufficient to procure the 
 same effect on the inconstant. Extraor- 
 dinary means are necessary ; and extra- 
 ordinary means are seldom resorted to 
 by the Almighty. This class of men y 
 nevertheless, are of all others the least 
 aware of their dangerous state. They 
 are lulled into a false security by the 
 sentiments of piety which, from time to 
 time, accompany them to the altar. The 
 unbounded licentiousness of so many, 
 in the present age, who live without 
 God, without religion, without sacra- 
 ments, sets off to advantage their exte- 
 rior pjous, and regular deportment. 
 They are satisfied, because they are not 
 yet arrived to the same pitch of irreli- 
 gion and immorality. They applaud 
 themselves, because they are regular, at 
 

 
 of Lent. 4)7 
 
 the place of worship, and frequent the 
 sacraments. They thank God in their 
 hearts, like the Pharisee, that they arc 
 not like the rest of men, Luke xviii. 4 1 . 
 This comparison flatters their pride, 
 and increases their false security; where- 
 as their whole religion, their whole pie- 
 ty, is no more than the reiterated pro- 
 fanation of the most tremendous mys- 
 teries of the Deity. 
 
 If there are any in this assembly, 
 who live in these alternatives of grace 
 and sin ; who will neither renounce 
 their passions, nor their devotions ; let 
 me entreat them to come to a determi- 
 nation. You cannot serve both God 
 and Baal. If Baal be your God, as a 
 prophet said to the Jews, follow him; 
 but if the Lord be your God, adore him 
 alone. Why these pleasures, and these 
 tears r Either dry up your tears, and 
 receive your consolation in this 'world ; 
 or seek that consolation, that pleasure 
 alone which proceeds from virtue and
 
 498 Third Sunday of Lent. 
 
 innocence. Have pity on your own 
 souls : come to a determination : fix a 
 solid peace in your interior : embrace 
 the mercies of Gocl, which are offered 
 you at this time. Perhaps your incon- 
 stancy is hastening to a fatal conclu- 
 sion. Enter, therefore, the paths of 
 virtue without delay ; fix the founda- 
 tion of your new building on the firm 
 basis of charity; and be no longer like 
 those men, of whom our Lord speaks, 
 who believed in him only for a time. 
 By this means, you- will be entitled to 
 ', the crown of glory and immortality in 
 heaven, which is promised to all who 
 persevere faithfully to the end.
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY OF LENT. 
 
 ON CONFESSION. 
 
 Confess your sins one to another, and 
 pray one for another y that you may be 
 saved. .... James v. ]6\ 
 
 the preced- 
 ing Sundays, my beloved brethren, I 
 enlarged on the great, and manifold 
 duties, which are imposed on you at 
 this time: I described the extent of, 
 and the necessity of complying with 
 the precept of fasting : I admonished 
 you, that the law is not confined to the 
 exterior mortification of the flesh, but 
 that you must rend your hearts, and 
 be converted to the Lord by a true, 
 and sincere reformation of life : and
 
 500 Fourth Sunday 
 
 lastly I guarded you against the 'dan- 
 gers of inconstancy, in order that your 
 repentance might be permanent and 
 effectual. I will, now, ^nter upon the 
 second part of my instructions for this 
 time, and explain to you at large the 
 preparation which is required for a 
 worthy participation of the sacred mys- 
 teries at the conclusion of this season. 
 I will begin with the sacrament of 
 penance, and it shall form the subject 
 of this, and the following discourse. 
 
 It is not my intention to enter into 
 a controversial discourse on the in- 
 stitution of this sacrament, because 
 such a disquisition would be unneces- 
 sary before a catholic audience. But 
 I propose to discuss the conditions, 
 on the due and faithful performance of 
 which the whole fruit of the sacra- 
 ment depends. This, perhapsy may 
 appear, at firs,t sight, as unnecessary as 
 the subject of its institution, on ac- 
 count of the instructions which you.
 
 of Lent. 501 
 
 have continued to receive on that head 
 even from your childhood. But if you 
 reflect on the many times you have 
 presented yourselves at the sacred tri- 
 bunal, and the little fruit that you have 
 hitherto reaped, you must conclude that 
 there are some deficiencies on your part ; 
 and that it is the duty of the pastor to 
 scrutinize " them, and to prescribe the 
 remedies. On the part of God there 
 can be no deficiency : the blood of 
 Jesus is as powerful now, as at any 
 former period. All the defects, there- 
 fore, must be laid entirely to your 
 charge, and in compliance with my 
 duty I will examine them, and lay be- 
 fore you the means of effecting their 
 
 cure. 1 shall reduce them to three 
 
 heads, by observing, first, that you 
 either acquire not a perfect knowledge 
 of the state of your interior ; or se- 
 condly, that you confess not your sins 
 with sufficient candour, and explicit- 
 ness ; or lastly, that you are deficient
 
 502 Fourth Sunday 
 
 in the most indispensable part, which 
 is that of contrition. 
 
 1. Man, generally speaking, is a 
 mystery to himself. Being influenced 
 in all his decisions, and guided in all 
 his actions by self-love, he always 
 views his own conduct on the most 
 favourable side ; and is generally the 
 last person who discovers the faults, 
 into which this deceitful prompter has 
 beguiled him. 
 
 This fatal ignorance of the true state 
 of our souls can be dispelled only by 
 two means; first, by a deliberate and 
 attentive examination of our con- 
 science ; and secondly, by a strict at- 
 tention to the relative duties of our 
 state. 
 
 In the first place, the whole life of 
 a Christian ought to be devoted to 
 self-examination. We must scrutinize 
 every thought ; every word ; every ac- 
 tion : we must not desist even for one 
 hour. For we experience such a con-
 
 of Lent. 503 
 
 tinual and rapid succession of desires, 
 of jealousies, of fears, of hopes, of trou- 
 bles, of hatred, and love, that if the 
 thread is but once broken in our recol- 
 lection, we are instantly lost: if we 
 cease for an instant to follow the secret 
 windings of the passions in our souls, 
 we know neither their extent nor their 
 consequences : all is confusion on ac- 
 count of the multiplicity of things ; 
 our conscience is formed into an abyss 
 which we cannot fathom ; the surface 
 aloue is open to our view. 
 
 It is an error, therefore, to suppose 
 that, after a long time spent in tepi- 
 dity, and in a dissipated and worldly 
 life, an hour or two spent in examina- 
 tion is sufficient to discover the true 
 state of your interior. You must be 
 habituated to give a daily account of 
 yourselves to your own souls : you 
 must enter into judgment on every 
 action ; if not frequently in the day, 
 at least, during the silence of the
 
 504- Fourth Sunday 
 
 night, after the labours, fatigues, and' 
 pastimes of the day are concluded ; 
 you must, like the Royal Prophet, 
 (Ps. cxviii. 109.), place your souls in 
 your hands before the Lord, . and 
 weigh in his sight every action that you 
 have performed. By this means alone, 
 can you be familiarized with your- 
 selves, and be disposed to carry to the 
 sacred tribunal hearts that have been 
 already judged. 
 
 But, is it in this manner that 
 , you prepare yourselves for the sacra- 
 ment of penance ? The generality 
 of Christians live in such a state of 
 dissipation that they dare not look into 
 their own hearts : the closet of their 
 interior is a place of melancholy and 
 
 I V 
 
 sadness, from which they fly with pre- 
 cipitation ; they dread the idea of 
 being left alone to their own reflec- 
 tions : they avoid with solicitude 
 every thought about their past dis- 
 orders. You,- perhaps, my beloved, are
 
 of Lent, 505 
 
 of this unhappy number, and therefore 
 I will ask you ; whether it is possible 
 that, in the space of one hour, you 
 should be able to explore the intricate 
 windings of your passions ? Whether 
 it is possible that so many unjust de- 
 sires, so many criminal indulgences, 
 so much tepidity, so many distractions, 
 so many compliances with self-will, 
 so many injurious words, ^o many 
 reflections on your neighbours, such 
 frequent hatreds and animosities, so 
 many sinful thoughts, so many crimes 
 which you have occasioned in others, 
 the greatest part of which were sedul- 
 ously erased from your mind almost 
 as soon as committed. Whether it is 
 possible, I say, that such an abyss 
 should be so suddenly enlightened, 
 and that such a disordered state of 
 conscience, to which you have hitherto 
 been strangers, should so suddenly be 
 made known, and become, as it were, 
 familiar to you? 
 
 Z
 
 ,506" Fourth Sunday 
 
 That such a thing is impossible you 
 must readily acknowledge, conse- 
 quently you yourselves must draw this 
 conclusion ; that the person who neg- 
 lects the sacrament of penance for any 
 length of time, and is inattentive to 
 the daily examination of his conscience, 
 must necessarily be deficient in the 
 knowledge of his interior, and ought 
 to attribute, in part, to this cause the 
 little fruit which he has hitherto reaped 
 from his confessions. 
 
 I must observe, likewise, that a very 
 notable defect arises from another 
 quarter: you examine not the sins 
 you commit in relation to the various 
 capacities in which you stand : as a 
 parent, for instance, as a private in- 
 dividual, as a tradesman, as a ser- 
 vant, and so on : you attend only to 
 personal failings in general terms, and 
 omit the relative duties of your state 
 and calling. 
 
 As parents, you are bound to con-
 
 of Lent. 107 
 
 sider your children, not as properly 
 belonging to you, but as a sort of trust 
 committed to your care by the provi- 
 dence of God. Him you are to con- 
 sider as their Father, and yourselves, 
 as merely occupying, for a time, the 
 place of guardians. 
 
 The duties of this guardianship are 
 manifold, and great. It is incumbent 
 on you to bring them up in the fear 
 and love of their heavenly Father ; to 
 prevent their entrance into the broad 
 road of the world ; to lead them by the 
 hand into the narrow path of virtue, 
 and piety ; to convince them of the 
 vanity, and emptiness of all things 
 here below ; and to warm their in- 
 nocent bosoms with the flames of 
 charity, and divine love. These are 
 your duties in quality of parents 
 duties which are indispensable, and in- 
 commutable. Nevertheless, how many 
 are there, who confine their solicitude 
 for their children to earthly things; 
 
 Z2
 
 508 Fourth Sunday 
 
 who leave the task of instructing them 
 in piety to their pastors, and then frus- 
 trate by their own example the instruc- 
 tions which they have received ; who 
 invite, and even force -them to take 
 part with the world, at the time that 
 they commission their directors to so- 
 licit them to take part with Jesus ; how 
 many, I say, are there of this descrip- 
 tion ! and how few who make this 
 the subject of their examination ! 
 Again, you have many duties to per- 
 form in respect to your servants. You 
 are their father, and pastor, as long as 
 they are under your command : and if 
 you neglect their spiritual welfare, you 
 become, as the scripture expresses it, 
 worse than infidels: and do you ever 
 examine yourselves on this head? 
 
 Moreover, as members of the body 
 of the faithful, you owe to your bre- 
 thren tire example of an edifying, and 
 irreprehensible life. The more exalted 
 3'ou are, the stricter is the obligation ;
 
 of Lent. 509 
 
 because your example is either more 
 efficacious, or more pernicious in pro- 
 portion to your rank. As members of 
 the true Church, it is a duty incumbent 
 on you, to shine like lights to those who 
 sit in the shades of error, and infi- 
 delity; to display before: them, by the 
 purity of your lives, the holiness of 
 your religion ; and to convince them, 
 if possible, of the truth of your faith, 
 by your strict adherence to the rules 
 of the gospel. But where are the Ca- 
 tholics whose lives are stricter, whose 
 morals are more evangelical, whose ex- 
 ample is more edifying than that of 
 their unbelieving brethren ? And yet, 
 this subject never enters into their 
 examination. 
 
 Again, if you are engaged in busi- 
 ness, you are bound to follow the 
 strictest line of justice; to be scrupul- 
 ous in your dealings; and, if in 
 trade, to see that all the orders 
 which you receive are properly exe- 
 
 Z3
 
 5 ] Fourth Sunday 
 
 cuted, and that every article, in point 
 of durability and real worth, is answer- 
 able to the price you set upon it, and to 
 the intentions of your employer. If 
 you are in service, you are bound to be 
 exact in the performance of your 
 duties ; to avoid extravagance, and 
 waste; to confine your perquisites 
 within the bounds of allowance; ami 
 neither to give away, nor to assume 
 to yourselves more than the will of 
 your master has consented to. These 
 are your duties, and these must all 
 form a part of your examination. But, 
 alas ! after you have read over the 
 catalogue of sins in your prayer 
 books, you conclude that your exa- 
 mination has been sufficiently minute ? 
 Although you enter into a new state, 
 although it may happen that your 
 obligations are increased, that you are 
 entrusted with five talents, instead of 
 two, or one, your examination is still 
 the same as it was before. Ah ! this is
 
 of Lent. 511 
 
 not acting like disciples of Jesus: 
 this is not judging yourselves as you 
 will hereafter be judged 
 
 The just man is minute in every 
 point; he approaches to the sacred 
 tribunal with fear, and trembling; he 
 accuses himself in the bitterness of his 
 soul of the smallest imperfections; he 
 discovers even in his works of piety 
 matter for accusation, and causes for 
 penance ; he is afraid that the involun- 
 tary feelings of nature were free acts of 
 his will ; he imagines that he discovers 
 in the first motions to sin, the guilt of 
 having fully consented to it, although 
 at the very time he acquired merit, by 
 an immediate resistance ; he is diffident 
 even of the experience of his director, 
 when he endeavours to expel his fears ; 
 and, like St. Peter in the excess of his 
 prayer at Joppa, he fancies that he 
 beholds objects forbidden by the law, 
 even when an angel from heaven con- 
 Z4
 
 51$ Fourth Sunday 
 
 demns his scruples, and commands him 
 to eat. 
 
 And \vhence arises this difference? 
 The one keeps a .constant watch over 
 his heart ; the other neglects examina- 
 tion till he commences his preparation 
 for confession. The one judges him- 
 self according to the maxims of the 
 gospel ; the other is influenced by the 
 prejudices of self-love. The one exa- 
 mines himself strictly on all the duties 
 of his state; the other looks no farther' 
 than to the open violations of the law, 
 of which he knows neither the extent, 
 nor the consequences. It is thus, O 
 God, that thou enlightenest the hearts 
 of the just, and that thou punishest the 
 crimes of the worldling by permitting 
 him to conceal them from his own eyes. 
 
 2. The second general defect, is a 
 want of sincerity in the confession of 
 our sins. Nothing is more repugnant 
 to the nature of man, than the acknow-
 
 of Lent. 5 1 3 
 
 ledgement of guilt. Pride is his pre- 
 dominant passion, and therefore, being 
 conscious of innumerable failings, 
 and dreading the confusion which 
 would attend their publicity, he has re- 
 course to artifice and dissimulation in 
 order to conceal them from the eyes 
 of others. 
 
 . This is his nature. But how truly de- 
 plorable is it, that this pride should in- 
 fluence him even in his acts of humilia- 
 tion ; and that he should carry his 
 dissimulation even to the foot of that 
 great tribunal, where he. presents him- 
 self on purpose to declare the secrets 
 of his conscience, and to judge himself 
 before Christ. 
 
 I allow, indeed, that few Christians 
 are so far abandoned, as to come with 
 a determined resolution of lying to 
 the Holy Ghost. To people of this 
 description, instructions would be of 
 little service ; the thunders of the Al-
 
 Fourth Sunday 
 
 mighty alone eould rouse them : the 
 language of St. Peter to Ananias, and 
 Sapphira, would be the only language 
 calculated to make an impression on 
 their hearts. 
 
 But there is a dissimulation of a 
 different kind ; a dissimulation, which 
 endeavours to palliate, and sometimes 
 to excuse entirely the sins confessed. 
 Of this dissimulation we are guilty 
 when we endeavour to expose our sins 
 in the most favourable light ; when we 
 are solicitous to extenuate their enor- 
 mity in the eyes of our director ; when 
 we confess our greatest crimes in the 
 fewest words, in order to avoid en- 
 quiries ; when we pass over in silence 
 circumstances, and incidents which in- 
 crease the sin, and which are, some- 
 times, more criminal than the sins, 
 themselves ; and when, instead of en- 
 tering into a minute explication,, we 
 substitute vague, and general expres-
 
 of Lent 515 
 
 sions, which declare the actions, but 
 which expose not the true state of 
 our interior. 
 
 My friends, the language of a con- 
 trite heart is an humble, simple, na<- 
 tural, sincere language. It is a stran- 
 ger both to dissimulation, and forced 
 excuses. It explains the beginning, 
 the progress, the minutest circum- 
 stances, and the consequences of every 
 crime. Instead of endeavouring to 
 extenuate the guilt, it exposes it in the 
 most odious colours before the minis- 
 ter of God. But how little is this lan- 
 guage known ! How few in number 
 are the Christians who confess their 
 sins without dissimulation \ If we con- 
 fessed to man only, such an artifice 
 would succeed; it would be easy to 
 deceive a judge who could not pene- 
 trate the recesses of the mind. But we 
 confess to Jesus Christ, who has been 
 invisibly the witness of the whole his- 
 tory of our lives; who reads in our
 
 516* Fourth Sunday 
 
 hearts, as in an open book, the most 
 hidden secrets, and who, at the time 
 that we endeavour to impose on his 
 minister by our hyprocrisy/ laughs at 
 the ridiculous efforts of our shame ; 
 and upbraids us, as the prophet up- 
 braided the Queen of Israel who endea- 
 voured to deceive him under a bor- 
 rowed dress: " why dost thou feign 
 thyself to be another ! (3 Kings xiv. 6.) 
 Senseless man ! Dost thou think to 
 conceal thy shame with a thin veil from 
 the sight of Him, whose eye pierces 
 the deepest abyss r Knowest thou nqt, 
 that thou attemptest to hide thy de- 
 sperate, and corrupted wounds from 
 him, from whom alone thou canst ex- 
 pect a cure ?" 
 
 We are guilty of dissimulation, in 
 the second place, when we neglect to 
 examine into the motives, and prin- 
 ciples which occasioned our sins. 
 Religion informs us that the whole 
 merit and demerit of every action de-
 
 of Lent. 517 
 
 pend solely on the intentions, and dis- 
 positions of the heart. In order, there- 
 fore, to be fully acquainted with their 
 nature, it is necessary that we trace 
 them to their very source. If we are 
 addicted, for instance, to calumny, and 
 detraction, we must examine from 
 whence this disposition takes it rise; 
 whether it be from pride, envy, or 
 avarice: if to swearing, quarrelling, or 
 hatred ; whether it be attributable to the 
 loss of the fear of God, or to a passionate, 
 and revengeful temper : if to intempe- 
 rance, and sensuality ; whether it pro- 
 ceeds from the spirit of irreligion, or 
 from an inordinate attachment to earth-, 
 ly things : if to the sins of the flesh, 
 whether it originate from a rooted, and 
 obstinate affection for those brutal 
 pleasures, or from courting the com- 
 pany of the objects which excite them. 
 These are indispensable subjects of 
 inquiry, and must be held in view 
 through the whole course of our exa-
 
 518 Fourth Sunday 
 
 mination : otherwise we shall never 
 acquire a competent knowledge of the 
 extent either of our sins, or of the cor- 
 ruption of our hearts. If, therefore, we 
 are negligent in this point, we are 
 guilty of dissimulation, by voluntarily 
 concealing the true state of our in- 
 terior both from ourselves, and from 
 the director of our consciences. 
 
 And yet how common is this dissi- 
 mulation ! and how serious are the 
 consequences ! Your confession is not 
 succeeded by that peace, and serenity 
 of mind, which attends a good con- 
 fession : you feel that you are not dis- 
 burdened of that heavy load of guilt 
 which oppressed your souls : you con- 
 tinue to be the devoted victims of anx- 
 iety, and remorse: your hearts tell 
 you that you are not at peace with 
 God. 
 
 Senseless as you are ! why will you 
 foster in your breasts a serpent, which 
 may so easily be dislodged? You
 
 of Lent. 519 
 
 undergo the humiliation of confession ; 
 and by your insincerity, you deprive 
 yourselves of its consolations. You 
 publicly declare that you are sinners ; 
 and this declaration, which is so pain- 
 ful to human nature, becomes one of 
 your greatest crimes. 
 
 Be no longer deceived, Christian 
 brethren. Suffer not the enemy of your 
 souls to impose on you by his delusive 
 artifices. Your salvation depends on 
 the worthily receiving the sacrament of 
 penance. Arise, therefore, from the 
 abyss. Subject every motion of your 
 souls to a strict examination. Investi- 
 gate minutely in what manner you 
 perform the duties of your state, to 
 what good purpose you employ the 
 talents entrusted to you. Open your 
 hearts without reserve to the minister 
 of God. Display the true state of 
 your interior before his eyes. Be not 
 satisfied with a mere verbal declaration 
 of your sins, but expose the causes ;
 
 520 Fourth Sunday of Lent. 
 
 lay open the root of the evil. Then, if 
 you are truly contrite, you will obtain 
 the pardon of them ; you will enjoy 
 the consolations of penance ; and you 
 will receive grace to live holily and 
 piously for the future. 
 
 END OF VOL. JU 
 
 
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