Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/457

 and that  gratitude  which,  when  once  known,  it  inspires. And behold the  rocks,  which  the  dispositions  of  the  sages  of  the  east toward that  light  of  Heaven,  which  comes  to  show  new  routes  to them,  teach  us  to  shun.

Accustomed, in  consequence  of  a  public  profession  of  wisdom and philosophy,  to  investigate  every  thing,  and  reduce  it  to  the judgment of  a  vain  reason,  and  to  be  far  above  all  popular  prejudices, they  stop  not,  however,  before  commencing  their  journey, upon the  faith  of  the  celestial  light,  to  examine  if  the  appearance of this  new  star  might  not  be  solved  by  natural  causes;  they  do not  assemble  from  every  quarter  scientific  men,  in  order  to  reason on an  event  so  uncommon;  they  sacrifice  no  time  to  vain  difficulties, which  generally  arise,  more  from  the  repugnance  we  feel  to truth,  than  from  a  sincere  desire  of  enlightening  ourselves,  and  of knowing  it. Instructed by  that  tradition  of  their  fathers  which the captive  Israelites  had  formerly  carried  into  the  east,  and  which Daniel and  so  many  other  prophets,  had  announced  there,  relative to the  Star  of  Jacob  which  should  one  day  appear,  they  at  once comprehended, that  the  vain  reflections  of  the  human  mind  have no connexion  with  the  light  of  heaven;  that  the  portion  of  light which heaven  shows  them  is  sufficient  to  determine  and  to  conduct them;  that  grace  always  leaves  obscurities  in  the  ways  to which  it  calls  us,  in  order  not  to  deprive  faith  of  the  merit  of submission;  and  that,  whenever  we  are  so  happy  as  to  catch  a single  gleam  of  truth,  the  uprightness  of  the  heart  ought  to  supply whatever deficiency  may  yet  remain  in  the  evidence  of  the  light.

Nevertheless, how  many  souls  in  the  world,  wavering  upon faith, or  rather  enslaved  by  passions  which  render  doubtful  to them  that  truth  which  condemns  them;  how  many  souls  thus floating, clearly  see,  that,  at  bottom,  the  religion  of  our  fathers hath marks  of  truth  which  the  most  high-flown  and  proudest reason would  not  dare  to  deny  to  it;  that  unbelief  leads  to  too much; that  after  all,  we  must  hold  to  something;  and  that  total unbelief is  a  choice  still  more  incomprehensible  to  reason  than  the mysteries which  shock  it;  who  see  it,  and  who  struggle,  by  endless disputes, to  lull  that  worm  of  the  conscience  which  incessantly reproaches their  error  and  their  folly;  who  resist  that  truth,  which proves itself  in  the  bottom  of  their  heart,  under  the  pretence  of enlightening  themselves;  who  apply  for  advice  only  that  they may say  to  themselves,  that  their  doubts  are  unanswerable;  who have recourse  to  the  most  learned,  only  to  have  the  power  of alleging,  as  a  fresh  motive  of  unbelief,  the  having  had  recourse  in vain! It would  seem  that  religion  is  no  longer  but  a  matter  of discourse;  it  is  no  longer  considered  as  that  important  affair  in which  not  a  moment  is  to  be  lost;  it  is  a  simple  matter  of  controversy, as  formerly  in  the  Areopagus;  it  fills  up  the  idle  time;  it  is one  of  those  unimportant  questions  which  fill  up  the  vacancies of conversation,  and  amuse  the  languor  and  the  vanity  of  general intercourse.

But, my  brethern,    "the   kingdom   of   God  cometh  not  with