Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/467

 sures which  surround  them,  may  lead  them  astray;  but  a  remaining principle  of  religion  renders  truth  always  respectable  to  them. We may  venture  to  say,  that  ignorance  condemns  more  princes and persons  of  high  rank  than  people  of  the  lowest  condition;  and that the  mean  complaisance  which  is  paid  to  them  is  more  dishonourable to  the  ministry,  and  is  the  cause  of  more  reproach  to  religion, than  the  most  notorious  scandals  which  afflict  the  church.

The conduct  of  these  priests  appears  base  to  you,  my  brethren: but, if  you  are  disposed  to  enter  into  judgment  with  yourselves, and to  follow  yourselves  through  the  detail  of  your  duties,  of  your friendships, of  your  conversations,  you  will  see  that  all  your  discourses and  all  your  proceedings  are  merely  mollifications  of  the truth, and  temporisings,  in  order  to  reconcile  it  with  the  prejudices or  the  passions  of  those  with  whom  it  is  your  lot  to  live. We never  hold  out  the  truth  to  them  but  in  a  point  of  view  in which  it  may  please;  in  their  most  despicable  vices  we  always  find some favourable  side;  and,  as  all  the  passions  have  always  some apparent resemblance  to  some  virtue,  we  never  fail  to  save  ourselves through  the  assistance  of  that  resemblance.

Thus, in  the  presence  of  an  ambitious  person,  we  never  fail  to hold  forth  the  love  of  glory,  and  the  desire  of  exalting  one's  self, only as  tendencies  which  give  birth  to  great  men;  we  flatter  his pride; we  inflame  his  desires  with  hopes  and  with  false  and  chimerical predictions;  we  nourish  the  error  of  his  imagination  by bringing  phantoms  within  his  reach,  upon  which  he  incessantly feasts himself. We perhaps  venture,  in  general  terms,  to  pity  men who interest  themselves  so  deeply  for  things  which  chance  alone bestows, and  of  which  death  shall  perhaps  deprive  us  to-morrow; but we  have  not  the  courage  to  censure  the  madman,  who,  to  that vapour, sacrifices  his  quiet,  his  life,  and  his  conscience. With a vindictive  person  we  justify  his  resentment  and  anger;  we  justify his guilt  in  his  mind,  by  countenancing  the  justice  of  his  accusations;  we  spare  his  passion  in  exaggerating  the  injury  and  fault of his  enemy. We perhaps  venture  to  say,  how  noble  it  is  to  forgive; but  we  have  not  the  courage  to  add,  that  the  first  step  toward forgiveness,  is  the  ceasing  to  speak  of  the  injury  received.

With a  courtier  equally  discontented  with  his  own  fortune,  and jealous of  that  of  others,  we  never  fail  to  expose  his  rivals  in  the most unfavourable  light:  we  artfully  spread  a  cloud  over  their merit and  their  glory,  lest  they  should  injure  the  jealous  eyes  of him  who  listens  to  us;  we  diminish,  we  cast  a  shade  over  the  fame of their  talents  and  of  their  services;  and,  by  our  iniquitous  crouchings  to  his  passions,  we  nourish  it,  we  assist  him  in  blinding  himself, and  induce  him  to  consider,  as  honours  unjustly  ravished  from himself, all  those  which  are  bestowed  upon  his  brethren. What shall I  say? — With a  prodigal,  his  profusions  are  no  longer,  in  our mouths, but  a  display  of  generosity  and  magnificence. With a miser,  his  sordid  callousness  of  heart,  in  which  every  feeling  is lost,  is  no  longer  but  a  prudent  moderation,  and  a  laudable  domestic economy. With a  person  of  high  rank,  his  prejudices  and  his