Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/389

 trated a  little  into  their  obscurity,  that  is  to  say,  it  hath  a  little  better conjectured  upon  them  than  the  preceding  ages;  but  what  are its discoveries  when  compared  to  what  we  are  still  ignorant  of?

Descend upon  the  earth,  and  tell  us,  if  thou  knowest,  what  it  is that  keeps  the  winds  bound  up;  what  regulates  the  course  of  the thunders and  of  the  tempests;  what  is  the  fatal  boundary  which places its  mark,  and  says  to  the  rushing  waves,  "  Here  you  shall go,  and  no  farther;"  and  how  the  prodigy  so  regular  of  its  movements is  formed? Explain to  us  the  surprising  effects  of  plants, of metals,  of  the  elements;  find  out  in  what  manner  gold  is  purified in  the  bowels  of  the  earth;  unravel,  if  thou  canst,  the  infinite skill employed  in  the  formation  of  the  very  insects  which  crawl  before us;  give  us  an  explanation  of  the  various  instincts  of  animals — turn on  every  side;  nature  in  all  her  parts  offers  nothing  to  thee but enigmas. O man! thou knowest  nothing  of  the  objects,  even under thine  eyes,  and  thou  wouldst  pretend  to  fathom  the  eternal depths of  faith! Nature is  a  mystery  to  thee,  and  thou  wouldst have a  religion  which  had  none! Thou art  ignorant  of  the  secrets  of man,  and  thou  wouldst  pretend  to  know  the  secrets  of  God! Thou knowest not  thyself,  and  thou  wouldst  pretend  to  fathom  what  is  so much  above  thee! The universe,  which  God  hath  yielded  up  to  thy curiosity and  to  thy  disputes,  is  an  abyss  in  which  thou  art  lost;  and thou wouldst  that  the  mysteries  of  faith,  which  he  hath  solely  exposed to  thy  docility  and  to  thy  respect,  should  have  nothing  which surpasses thy  feeble  lights! — O, blindness! Were every  thing, excepting religion,  clear  and  evident,  thou  then,  with  some  show of reason,  mightest  mistrust  its  obscurities;  but,  since  every thing around  thee  is  a  labyrinth  in  which  thou  art  bewildered, ought not  the  secret  of  God,  as  Augustine  formerly  said,  to  render thee  more  respectful  and  more  attentive,  far  from  being  more incredulous?

The necessity  of  faith  is  therefore  founded,  in  the  first  place,  upon the weakness  of  reason;  but  it  is  likewise  founded  upon  its  profound depravity. And, in  effect,  what  was  more  natural  to  man than to  confess  his  God,  the  author  of  his  being  and  of  his  felicity, his end  and  his  principle;  than  to  adore  his  wisdom,  his  power, his goodness,  and  all  those  divine  perfections  of  which  he  hath  engraved upon  his  work  such  profound  and  evident  marks? These lights were  born  with  us. Nevertheless, review  all  those  ages  of darkness  and  of  superstition  which  preceded  the  gospel,  and  see how far  man  had  degraded  his  Creator,  and  to  what  he  had  likened his God. There was  nothing  so  vile  in  the  created  world  but  his impiety erected  into  gods,  and  man  was  the  noblest  divinity  which was worshipped  by  man.

If, from  religion,  you  pass  to  the  morality,  all  the  principles  of natural  equity  were  effaced,  and  man  no  longer  bore,  written  in his  heart,  the  work  of  that  law  which  nature  has  engraven  on  it. Plato, even  that  man  so  wise,  and  who,  according  to  St.  Augustine, had  so  nearly  approached  to  the  truth,  nevertheless  abolishes the holy  institution  of  marriage;  and,  permitting  a  brutal  confusion