Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/451

 leaves to  them,  for  inheritance,  his  agitations  and  disquiets,  which they, in  their  turn,  shall  one  day  transmit  to  their  descendants. In the  palaces  of  kings? But there  it  is  that  a  lawless  and  boundless ambition  gnaws  and  devours  every  heart;  it  is  there  that under the  specious  mask  of  joy  and  tranquillity,  the  most  violent and the  bitterest  passions  are  nourished;  it  is  there  that  happiness apparently  resides,  and  yet  where  pride  occasions  the  greatest number of  discontented  and  miserable. In the  sanctuary? Alas! there ought  surely  to  be  found  an  asylum  of  peace;  but  ambition pervades even  the  holy  place;  the  efforts  there  are  more  to  raise themselves above  their  brethren,  than  to  render  themselves  useful to them;  the  holy  dignities  of  the  church  become,  like  those  of  the age, the  reward  of  intrigue  and  caballing;  the  religious  circumspection of  the  prince  cannot  put  a  stop  to  solicitations  and  private intrigues; we  there  see  the  same  inveteracy  and  rivalships,  the same sorrow  in  consequence  of  neglect,  the  same  jealousy  toward those who  are  preferred  to  us;  a  ministry  is  boldly  canvassed  for, which ought  to  be  accepted  only  with  fear  and  trembling:  they seat themselves  in  the  temple  of  God,  though  placed  there  by other  hands  than  his:  they  head  the  flock  without  his  consent  to whom  it  belongs,  and  without  his  having  said,  as  to  Peter,  **  Feed my sheep;? and as  they  have  taken  the  charge  without  call  and without ability,  the  flock  are  led  without  edification  and  without fruit: alas! and often  with  shame. — O peace  of  Jesus  Christ! which surpassest all  sense,  sole  remedy  against  the  troubles  which  pride incessantly excites  in  our  hearts,  who  shall  then  be  able  to  give thee to  man?

But, secondly,  if  the  disquiets  of  pride  had  banished  peace  from the earth,  the  impure  desires  of  the  flesh  had  not  given  rise  to fewer  troubles. Man, forgetting  the  excellency  of  his  nature,  and the sanctity  of  his  origin,  gave  himself  up,  like  the  beasts,  without scruple, to  the  impetuosity  of  that  brutal  instinct. Finding it  the most violent  and  the  most  universal  of  his  propensities,  he  believed it to  be  also  the  most  innocent  and  the  most  lawful. In order  still more to  authorize  it,  he  made  it  part  of  his  worship,  and  formed  to himself  impure  gods,  in  whose  temples  that  infamous  vice  became the only  homage  which  did  honour  to  their  altars:  even  a  philosopher, in  other  respects  the  wisest  of  pagans,  dreading  that  marriage should put  a  kind  of  check  on  that  deplorable  passion,  had  wished to abolish  that  sacred  bond;  to  permit  among  men,  as  among  animals, a  brutal  confusion,  and  only  multiply  the  human  race  through crimes. The more  that  vice  became  general,  the  more  it  lost  the name of  vice:  and,  nevertheless,  what  a  deluge  of  miseries  had  it not  poured  out  upon  the  earth! With what  fury  had  it  not  been seen to  arm  people  against  people,  kings  against  kings,  blood against blood,  brethren  against  brethren,  every  where  carrying trouble and  carnage,  and  shaking  the  whole  universe! Ruins of cities,  wrecks  of  the  most  flourishing  empires,  sceptres  and  crowns overthrown, became  the  public  and  gloomy  monuments  which  every age reared  up,  in  order,  it  would  seem,  to  preserve,  to  following ages, the  remembrance  and  the  fatal  tradition  of  those  calamities