Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/340

 respects virtue;  but  it  always  despises  those  who  make  a  profession of  it:  it  acknowledges  that  nothing  is  more  estimable  than  a solid  and  sincere  piety;  but  it  complains  that  such  is  no  where  to be  found:  and,  by  always  separating  virtue  from  those  who  practise it,  it  only  makes  a  show  of  respecting  the  phantom  of  sanctity and righteousness,  that  it  may  be  the  better  entitled  to  contemn and to  censure  the  just.

Now the  first  object,  on  which  the  ordinary  discourses  of  the world fall  against  virtue,  is  the  probity  of  the  intentions  of  the  just. As what  is  apparent  in  their  actions  gives  little  hold,  in  general,  to malignity  and  censure,  they  confine  themselves  to  the  intentions: they pretend,  and  above  all  at  present,  when,  under  a  prince equally great  as  religious,  virtue,  formerly  a  stranger,  and  dreaded at court,  is  now  become  the  surest  path  to  favour  and  reward, — they pretend  that  it  is  there  to  which  all  who  make  a  public  profession of  it,  point  their  aim;  that  their  only  wish  is  to  accomplish their ends;  and  that  those  who  appear  the  most  sanctified  and disinterested, are  superior  to  the  rest  only  in  art  and  cunning. If they excuse  them  from  the  meanness  of  such  a  motive,  they  give them others  equally  unworthy  of  the  elevation  of  virtue  and  of Christian  sincerity. Thus when  a  soul,  touched  for  its  errors,  becomes contrite,  it  is  not  God,  but  the  world,  whom  it  seeks  through a more  cunning  and  concealed  path;  it  is  not  grace  which  hath changed the  heart,  it  is  age  which  begins  to  efface  its  attractions, and to  withdraw  it  from  pleasures,  only  because  pleasures  begin  to fly  from  it. If zeal  attaches  itself  to  works  of  piety,  it  is  not  that they are  charitable,  it  is  because  they  wish  to  become  consequential. If they  shut  themselves  up  in  solitude  and  in  prayer,  it  is not  their  piety  which  dreads  the  dangers  of  the  world,  it  is  their singularity and  ostentation  which  wish  to  attract  its  suffrages. Lastly, the  merit  of  the  most  holy  and  the  most  virtuous  actions  is always  disparaged  in  the  mouth  of  the  worldly,  by  the  suspicions with which  they  endeavour  to  blacken  the  intentions.

Now, in  this  temerity,  I  find  three  hateful  characters,  which  expose the  absurdity  and  the  injustice  of  it:  it  is  a  temerity  of  indiscretion, seeing  you  judge,  you  decide  upon  what  you  know  not: it is  a  temerity  of  corruption,  seeing  we  generally  suppose  in  others only what  we  feel  in  ourselves:  lastly,  it  is  a  temerity  of  contradiction, seeing  you  find  unjust  and  foolish  when  directed  against yourself, the  very  same  suspicions  which  to  you  appear  so  well-founded  against  your  brother. Lose not,  I  entreat  of  you,  the  consequence of  these  truths.

I say,  first,  a  temerity  of  indiscretion. For, my  brethren,  to God  alone  is  reserved  the  judgment  of  intentions  and  thoughts: He alone  who  sees  the  secrecy  of  hearts  can  judge  them;  nor  will they be  manifested  till  that  terrible  day  when  his  light  shall  shine through and  dispel  every  darkness. An impenetrable  veil  is  spread here below,  over  the  depth  of  the  human  heart;  we  must  then  wait till that  veil  shall  be  rent,  before  the  shameful  passion  which  it conceals,  as  the  apostle  says,  can  become  manifest,  and  before  the