Page:SermonsFromTheLatins.djvu/508

 themselves, were  it  not  that  these  arguments,  by their  very  weakness,  prove  the  necessity  of  religion. In a  series  of  religious  chats  with  a  young  gentleman, lately,  I  found  his  first  great  difficulty  was  that religion was  an  old  story,  something  belonging  to  a bygone  age. Old! most assuredly  it  is  old! As old as the  human  race,  for  it  is  the  relation  of  man  to God. I trace  it  back  through  the  Christian  era;  back to Calvary  and  the  cross  of  Christ;  back  to  Moses and Aaron;  back  to  the  caves  of  the  prophets  and the tents  of  the  patriarchs;  back  to  the  cradle  of humanity,  and  thence  back  to  heaven,  whence  it comes. Is age  her  shame,  or  is  it  not  rather  like  an old  lady's  gray  hairs,  her  crown  of  glory? A crisp bank-note or  a  brilliant  coin  is  suspected  as  counterfeit by  reason  of  its  very  newness. So, too,  the various non-Catholic  sects  are  discredited  by  their own modernity;  whereas  one  instinctively  turns  for the genuine  article  to  that  religion,  and  that  alone, which with  its  God  can  say  of  itself:  "  Before  Abraham was,  I  am;"  of  which  the  Psalmist  says: " Thou  art  ever  the  selfsame  and  thy  years  shall  not fail." " Oh,  but,"  my  friend  replies,  "  religion  has changed  and  does  change!" Change, yes,  as  Christ changed from  a  babe  to  a  youth  and  full-grown man. True, she  was,  in  times  of  persecution,  often changed, as  was  Christ  by  His  Passion  from  the most beautiful  of  the  sons  of  men  to  a  mangled  felon on the  cross  with  no  beauty  in  Him. Change! yes, as the  tree  changes  its  girth  and  the  spread  of  its branches; changes  in  her  ceremonies  as  the  tree