Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/244

 fortune to  displease  you:  that  you  find  amiable  only  those  who have nothing  to  contest  with  you;  that  all  who  rise  above,  or  are even equal  to  you,  constrain  and  hurt  you;  and  that,  to  have  a claim  to  your  friendship,  it  is  necessary  to  have  none  either  to  your pretensions or  expectancies.

But I  go  still  farther,  and  I  entreat  you  to  listen  to  me. I admit your brother  to  have  more  faults  than  even  you  accuse  him  of having. Alas! you are  so  gentle  and  so  friendly  toward  those  from whom you  expect  your  fortune  and  your  establishment,  and  whose temper, haughtiness,  and  manners  shock  you. You bear  with  all their pride,  their  repulses,  their  scorns;  you  swallow  all  their  inequalities and  caprices;  you  are  never  disheartened;  your  patience is always  greater  than  your  antipathy  and  your  repugnance,  and you neglect  nothing  to  please. Ah! if you  regarded  your  brother, as he  upon  whom  depends  your  eternal  salvation,  as  he  to  whom you are  to  be  indebted,  not  for  a  fortune  of  dross,  and  an  uncertain establishment, but  for  the  fortune  even  of  your  eternity,  would  you follow, with  regard  to  him,  the  caprice  of  your  fancy? Would you not conquer  the  unjust  antipathy  which  estranges  you  from  him? Would you  suffer  so  much  in  putting  your  inclinations  in  unison with your  eternal  interests,  and  in  doing  upon  yourself  so  useful and  so  necessary  a  violence? You bear  with  every  thing for the  world  and  for  vanity;  and  you  cry  out,  how  hard! from the moment  that  a  single  painful  proceeding  is  exacted  of  you  for eternity.

And say  not  that  there  are  caprices  of  nature,  of  which  no account  can  be  given,  and  that  we  are  not  the  masters  of  our fancies and  likings. I grant  this  to  a  certain  point;  but  there is a  love  of  reason  and  of  religion,  which  ought  always  to  gain ascendancy over  that  of  nature. The gospel  exacts  not  that  you have a  fancy  for  your  brother,  it  exacts  that  you  love  him;  that  is to  say,  that  you  bear  with  him,  that  you  excuse  him,  that  you  conceal his  faults,  that  you  serve  him;  in  a  word,  that  you  do  for  him whatever you  would  wish  to  have  done  for  yourself. Charity is not  a  blind  and  capricious  fancy,  a  natural  liking,  a  sympathy  of temper  and  disposition;  it  is  a  just,  enlightened,  and  reasonable duty; a  love  which  takes  its  rise  in  the  impulses  of  grace,  and  in the  views  of  faith. It is  not  rightly  loving  our  brethren,  to  love them only  through  fancy;  it  is  loving  one^s  self. Charity alone enables us  to  love  them  as  we  ought,  and  it  alone  can  form  real and steadfast  friends. For fancy  is  continually  changing,  and  charity never dieth;  fancy  seeks  only  itself,  and  charity  seeketh  not  its  own interest, but  the  interest  of  whom  it  loves;  fancy  is  not  a  proof against every  thing,  a  loss,  a  proceeding,  a  disgrace, — and  charity riseth superior  to  death:  fancy  loves  only  its  own  conveniency; and charity  findeth  nothing  amiss,  and  suffereth  every  thing  for whom it  loveth:  fancy  is  blind,  and  often  renders  even  the vices of  our  brethren  amiable  to  us;  and  charity  never  giveth praise to  iniquity,  and  in  others  loveth  only  the  truth. The friends of grace  are  therefore  much  more  to  be  relied  on  than  those  of  na-