Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/395

 brethren: not  one  of  all  those  who  affect  to  profess  themselves  unbelievers has  ever  been  seen  to  begin  by  doubts  upon  the  truths  of faith,  and  afterward  from  doubts  to  fall  into  licentiousness:  they begin with  the  passions;  doubts  come  afterward:  they  first  give way to  the  regularities  of  the  age  and  to  the  excesses  of  debauchery; and when  attained  to  a  certain  length,  and  they  find  it  no  longer possible to  return  upon  their  steps,  they  then  say,  in  order  to  quiet themselves, that  there  is  nothing  after  this  life,  or  at  least,  they are well  pleased  to  find  people  who  say  so. It is  not,  therefore, the little  certainty  they  find  in  religion,  which  authorizes  their  conclusion that  we  ought  to  yield  ourselves  up  to  pleasure,  and  that self-denial is  needless,  since  every  thing  dies  with  us:  it  is  the yielding of  themselves  up  to  pleasure  which  creates  doubts  upon religion, and,  by  rendering  self-denial  next  to  impossible,  leads  them to conclude  that  consequently  it  is  neeedless. Faith becomes  suspected only  when  it  begins  to  be  troublesome;  and  to  this  day  unbelief hath  never  made  a  voluptuary,  but  voluptuousness  hath  made almost all  the  unbelievers.

And a  proof  of  what  I  say,  you  whom  this  Discourse  regards,  is, that while  you  have  lived  with  modesty  and  innocence,  you  never doubted. Recollect those  happy  times  when  the  passions  had  not yet corrupted  your  heart:  the  faith  of  your  fathers  had  then  nothing but what  was  august  and  respectable;  reason  bent  without  pain  to the  yoke  of  authority;  you  never  thought  of  doubts  or  difficulties: from the  moment  your  manners  changed,  your  views  upon  religion have no  longer  been  the  same. It is  not  faith,  therefore,  which hath found  new  difficulties  in  your  reason;  it  is  the  practice  of  duties which  hath  encountered  new  obstacles  in  your  heart. And, should you  tell  us,  that  your  first  impressions,  so  favourable  to faith,  sprung  solely  from  the  prejudices  of  education  and  of  childhood;  we  shall  answer,  that  the  second,  so  favourable  to  impiety, have sprung  solely  from  the  prejudices  of  the  passions  and  of  debauchery;  and  that,  prejudices  for  prejudices,  it  appears  to  us,  that it is  still  better  to  keep  by  those  which  are  formed  in  innocence and lead  us  to  virtue,  than  to  those  which  are  born  in  the  infamy of the  passions,  and  preach  up  only  free-thinking  and  guilt.

Thus nothing  is  more  humiliating  for  unbelief  than  recalling  it to  its  origin;  it  bears  a  false  name  of  learning  and  of  light:  and  it is  a  child  of  iniquity  and  of  darkness. It is  not  the  strength  of reason  which  has  led  our  pretended  unbelievers  to  scepticism;  it  is the  weakness  of  a  corrupted  heart,  which  has  been  unable  to  surmount its  infamous  passions;  it  is  even  a  mean  cowardliness,  which, unable to  support  and  to  view  with  a  steady  eye  the  terrors  and  the threatenings of  religion,  endeavours  to  shake  off  their  thoughts  by continually  repeating,  that  they  are  childish  terrors:  it  is  a  man who, afraid  of  the  night,  sings  as  he  goes  along,  to  prevent  himself from thinking;  debauchery  always  makes  us  cowardly  and  fearful; and it  is  nothing  but  an  excess  of  fear  of  eternal  punishments,  which occasions a  sinner  to  be  continually  preaching  up  and  singing  to  us that  they  are  doubtful;  he  trembles,  and  wishes  to  strengthen  him-