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PASTORAL  INSTRUCTIONS, 
 
 ETC.  ETC. 
 
%^ 
 
 THE 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUcitONS 
 
 OF  HIS  LORDSHIP 
 
 STEPHEN-ANTHONY  DE  BOULOGNE, 
 
 BISHOP  OF  TROYES,  ELECTED  ARCHBISHOP  OF  VIENNE, 
 PEER  OF  FRANCE. 
 
 A  ,    -I      ' 
 
 TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH 
 
 BY   ABBE    CUMMINS, 
 
 PP.IEST  OF  THE  RELIGIOUS  CONGREGATION  OF  THE  MOST  SACRED 
 HEARTS  OF  JESUS  AND  MARY,  BACH.  OF  THEOL.  IN  SORBONNE, 
 PROF.   OF  THEOL.    IN  THE  SEMINARY   OF  PICPUS,  PARIS. 
 
 Narrabo  nomcn  itnnu  fratribiis  ntcis. 
 
 PsAr..  XXI. 
 
 KILKENNY : 
 
 PRINTED    BY    JOHN    REYNOLDS,    BOOKSELLER  AND  STATIONER,   PARADE, 
 
 1822. 
 
 [entered    at  stationers'  HALL.] 
 
TO 
 
 THE  MOST  REVEREND  AND  THE  RIGHT  REVEREND 
 
 THE  ROMAN  CATHOLIC 
 
 ARCHBISHOPS  AND  BISHOPS  OF  IRELAND. 
 
 My  Lords, 
 
 The  Religious  and  Literary  Repu- 
 tation of  the  Illustrious  Stranger,  whom  I 
 have  the  honour  to  present  to  you,  needs  now 
 but  the  Suffrage  of  our  Country,  to  become 
 European.  To  whom  could  it  belong  to 
 offer  Ireland's  tribute  of  applause,  if  not  to 
 
VI 
 
 your  Lorcls]ii])Si  the  natural  organs,  llic  faitli- 
 t'ul  guardians  of  her  Reb'gion,  her  Sacred  Let- 
 ters and  nobler  mterests?  The  name  of  M.  de 
 Boulogne  will  recommend  him  to  you,  as 
 men  of  learning:  as  Bishops,  you  will  re- 
 ceive a  Brother,  a  Colleague  in  your  August 
 Ministry,  with  those  hospitable  feelings  com- 
 manded you  by  your  vocation,  and  be- 
 queathed us  by  our  Ancestors.  Travelling, 
 in  Spirit,  through  our  Country,  the  Bishop  of 
 Troyes  will  not  be  an  idle  spectator  of  your 
 pious  labours.  He  wishes  to  add  liis  name 
 to  the  glorious  cause  in  which  your  Lord- 
 ships are  engaged,  and,  by  combating,  in 
 your  ranks,  the  spirit  of  impiety  and  inde- 
 pendence, now,  alas !  so  w  idely  diffused,  to 
 consolidate  in  Great  Britain,  as  he  is  la- 
 bouring to  do  for  nearly  half  a  century  in 
 France,  the  true  principles  of  Religion  and 
 social  order.  This  cause.  My  Lords,  is  now 
 become  general,  and  the  Princes  of  the 
 Church  and  those  of  the  State  are  equally 
 interested  in  its  success.  Never  did  the 
 Spirit  of  irreligion  juore  powerfully  com- 
 
Vll 
 
 bine,  than  in  our  days,  with  the  spirit  of 
 rebellion  and  licentiousness,  against  the  Al- 
 tar, the  Throne,  and  Society — and  never 
 have  we  found  a  warmer  friend,  a  more 
 zealous  advocate  of  those  great  interests  of 
 the  world,  than  his  Lordship  the  Bishop  of 
 Troyes. 
 
 Happy  then,  My  Lords,  if  I  shall  be  able 
 to  interpret  liim  to  my  Countrymen  in  lan- 
 guage as  elevated  as  his  own,  and  thus  com- 
 mune, though  at  a  distance,  with  the  beloved 
 land  whose  image  is  still  as  fresh  and  as  dear 
 to  my  memory,  as  that  of  Sion  to  the  exiles 
 who  vvept  her  by  tlie  waters  of  Babylon ! 
 Still  happier  if,  by  the  light  of  his  name, 
 mine  too  shall  be  read  on  the  list  of  the  im- 
 mortal witnesses  of  Truth  and  Order — if,  like 
 the  Prophet,  I  too  may  contribute  to  justify 
 the  ways  of  God,  and  celebrate  his  praises 
 in  the  place  of  my  pilgrimage  !  (1) 
 
 Whatever  be  my  STiccess,  I  shall  ever  con- 
 sole myself  in  this  recollection,  that  my  first 
 
 (1)  Psal.  CXVllI. 
 
Vlll 
 
 essay  was  a  tribute  of  admiration  lo  the  ge- 
 nius and  the  zeal  of  a  distinguished  Prelate, 
 and  to  each  ot"  you  the  unfeigned  pledge  of 
 the  profound  veneration  and  lively  gratitude, 
 with  Avhich  I  am, 
 
 My  Lords, 
 
 Your  Lordships' 
 Most  obedient, 
 Most  devoted. 
 And  most  humble  Servant, 
 Abbe  Cummins. 
 Pin  is,  Nov.  21,  1822. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 OF  THE  TRA^NSLATOR. 
 
 In  making  this  selection  amongst  the 
 works  of  his  Lordship  the  Bishop  of  Troyes, 
 We  had  rather  in  view  the  interest  of  Reli- 
 gion and  social  order,  than  that  of  his  literary 
 fame.  If  this  first  essay  be  well  received  by 
 the  public,  We  shall  offer  with  equal  plea- 
 sure to  our  readers,  the  other  publications  of 
 our  illustrious  AutJior.  His  Panegyric  o( 
 the  Great  Dauphin  of  France,  Father  of  his 
 present  Majesty;  his  Funeral  Orations  of 
 Lewis  XYI,  and  of  His  Royal  Highness, 
 the  Duke  of  Berry  j  his  Sermon  for  the  Feast 
 of  Saint  Lewis,  and  others  of  this  nature, 
 hold  a  first  rank  in  this  fust  order  of  elo- 
 
quence,  and  will  ensure  him,  in  every  lan- 
 guage and  in  every  country  to  wliicli  they 
 shall  be  faithfully  transmitted,  an  immortal 
 recollection.  We  preferred,  however,  to 
 pul:)lish,  in  the  first  place,  those  of  his  Pas- 
 toral Instructions,  which  we  considered 
 best  adapted  to  the  present  position  of  so- 
 ciety. 
 
 From  their  title,  and  the  occasions  on 
 Avhich  they  were  Avritten,  they  may  appear, 
 at  first  view,  to  offer  a  local  interest  only  • 
 but,  on  their  perusal,  they  will  be  found  as 
 general  as  our  wants,  and  as  extensive  in 
 their  motives  and  bearings,  as  the  genius  and 
 the  zeal  to  which  we  owe  them.  And,  in- 
 deed, his  Lordship  is  animated  throughout 
 with  one  great  sentmient — that  of  Religion 
 and  Order.  The  strong  desire,  with  wliich 
 he  burns  for  their  establishment,  only  re- 
 medy^ as  he  himself  says,  for  the  double 
 wound  inflicted  on  the  world  by  impiety 
 and  rebellion,  i)ierces  through  every  page  of 
 his  works,  and  mingles  itself  with  almost  all 
 l)is  topics,  however  isolated  or  local  they 
 
XI 
 
 may  appear.  He  had  watched  the  rise  and 
 progress  of  the  false  philosophy  of  the  age. 
 and  his  comprehensive  mind  easily  calculated 
 its  fatal  consequences.  His  strong  and  lively 
 faith  preserved  him,  through  all  the  bad  days 
 he  witnessed,  from  the  contagion  of  the 
 times  and  the  dangers  of  his  own  genius. 
 His  noble  and  generous  heart  naturally  at- 
 tached liim  to  the  Royal  Cause,  which  he 
 never  separates  from  that  of  Religion.  (1) 
 
 Hence  it  is,  that  we  find  liim,  through  all 
 the  stages  of  his  public  life,  sustaining  tliis 
 double  quarrel.  In  the  pulpits  of  the  ca- 
 pital and  elsewhere,  he  never  ceased,  during 
 thirty  or  forty  years,  to  inculcate  the  great 
 principles  of  faith  and  morals,  and  to  thun- 
 der, with  all  the  zeal  of  an  Apostle,  against 
 the  progressive  corruption  of  the  times.  In 
 the  Court  of  Lewis  XYI,  who  had  named 
 him  one  of  his  ordinary  Preachers,  he  strenu- 
 
 (1)  Our  immorlal  Burke  somewhere  says,  at  least  in 
 substance,  that  he  who  would  level  the  grandeur  of  Roy- 
 alty and  the  other  social  distinctions,  is  either  an  ambitious 
 wretch,  or  naturally  ignoble  and  ungenerous  of  heart. 
 
xu 
 
 oiisly  laboured  to  endear  to  all  Religion  and 
 Loyalty,  to  enlighten  his  Royal  Master  on  the 
 dangers  with  which  he  was  surrounded,  to 
 console  him  with  the  hopes  of  a  better  world ; 
 and  thus,  perhaps,  did  he  too  contribute  to 
 prepare  him  for  the  Martyrdom  he  so  glori- 
 ously consummated  in  this.  Since  his  ele- 
 vation to  the  See  of  Troyes,  in  1809,  he  has 
 pursued  the  same  career,  but  with  a  new  ar- 
 dour for  truth,  a  new  zeal,  he  had  not  till 
 then  so  strongly  felt,  and  which  he  attri- 
 butes, in  his  first  Pas  formal  Instruction^  to 
 the  graces  and  character  of  his  new  vocation. 
 Some  of  our  English  readers  might  perhaps 
 imagine,  that  it  does  no  honour  to  his  political 
 reputation,  to  have  been  named  to  this  dig- 
 nity under  Buonaparte;  but  they  must 
 know,  that  he  never  solicited,  even  indi- 
 rectly, the  chair  of  honour^  nor  ever  me- 
 rited it  at  his  hands  by  any  means  unworthy 
 of  his  own  character.  He  had  already  po- 
 sitively refused  another  See,  and  did  not  ac- 
 cept that  of  Troyes  but  on  the  most  pressing 
 solicitations  of  his  friends,  wha  represented 
 
Xlll 
 
 to  him,  how  much  the  Church  of  France 
 then  stood  in  need  of  his  talents  and  his  cou- 
 rage :  so  that  his  nomination  by  Buonaparte 
 was,  in  the  views  of  God,  a  new  occasion  of 
 displaying  the  zeal  of  his  Minister;  a  new 
 resource,  as  we  shall  shortly  see,  reserved 
 for  the  Church,  when  on  the  eve  of  being 
 attacked  in  her  faith  and  discipline.  It  was 
 also,  perhaps,  one  of  those  homages,  which 
 usurpation  sometimes  unconsciously  pays  to 
 fidelity,  to  truth,  and  transcendent  merit. 
 And  who  ever  better  understood,  or  more 
 courageously  professed  the  consecrated  inde- 
 pendence of  Episcopacy,  than  he  who  ne- 
 ver ambitioned  its  dangerous  sublimity?  St. 
 Ambrose  had  shunned  it  with  the  utmost 
 precaution,  but  once  enthroned  in  the  chair 
 of  the  Apostles,  he  knew  how  to  defend  the 
 rights  of  the  Church,  and  command  the  ve- 
 neration and  obedience  of  a  Roman  Em- 
 peror. If  the  Bishop  of  Troyes  had  not  the 
 same  success  with  the  Emperor  of  France, 
 this  was  not  owing  to  the  want  of  courage 
 in  the  Prelate,  but  to  the  absence  of  all  ge- 
 
XIV 
 
 nerous  feeling  in  the  Persecutor.  If,  like 
 the  Archbishop  of  Milan,  he  did  not  find  in 
 him  a  Prince  as  docile  as  therepentantTheo- 
 dosius,  he  at  least  showed  him  how  a  great 
 Prelate  can  feel  and  act  in  the  most  critical 
 circumstances.  .  A¥hen  he  cannot  force  the 
 Prince  to  respect  tlic  Canons  of  the  Church, 
 he  will  endeavour  to  conquer  him  by  the 
 most  passive  obedience  in  every  thing,  which 
 affects  not  faith,  morals,  or  discipline.  If 
 the  Tyrant  shall  wrest  him  from  his  flock, 
 he  will  still  edify  [them  in  his  captivity  by 
 '  his  lieroic  patience;  and  his  forced  silence 
 will  there  be  no  less  honoural)le  to  himself, 
 no  less  advantageous  to  the  Church,  than  the 
 eloquence  with  which  he  used  to  enlighten 
 her,  and  the  zeal  with  which  he  had  endea- 
 voured to  enforce  her  precepts  and  preserve 
 her  faith.  He  was  one  of  the  Prelates,  who, 
 in  the  conventicle  convoked  at  Paris  by 
 Buonaparte,  in  1810,  did  not  opine  that 
 Bishops  might  be  elected,  consecrated,  and 
 then  lawfully  govern  the  Church,  without 
 the  Canonical  Institution  of  the  Holy  See. 
 
XV 
 
 To  bis  eloquence  and  zeal,  on  the  con- 
 trary, we  owe  it,  that  this  mock  council  did 
 not  add  the  note  of  Schism  to  its  degrading 
 complaisance.  Appointed  reporter  of  the 
 preparatory  commission,  and  indeed  its  na- 
 tural orator,  he  so  eloquently  developed  the 
 principles  of  Church-discipline,  and  so  evi- 
 dently demonstrated  that  not  the  whole 
 Gallicaii  Church  could  legalize  the  unhal- 
 lowed project  of  Napoleon,  that  he  drew 
 over  the  majority  to  his  opinion.  Buona- 
 parte, accordingly,  fearing  for  the  success  of 
 his  measure,  dissolved  the  assembly,  and 
 only  sought  to  avenge  on  some  of  its  leading 
 members  the  injury  of  his  defeat.  The  Bi- 
 shop of  Troyes  was  one  of  his^  first  victims. 
 He  was  ordered  to  the  Castle  of  Vincennes, 
 where  he  suffered,  during  six  months,  all 
 the  horrors  and  privations  of  the  closest 
 captivity. 
 
 The  Persecutor,  so  little  scrupulous  on 
 other  occasions  even  about  the  forms  of 
 justice,  deputed  to  him  a  police  officer,  to 
 demand  the   resignation   of   his  See.     His 
 
XVI 
 
 Lordship,  after  having  represented,  that  all 
 such  acts  done  during  his  confinement  won  Id 
 be  invalid,  signed  the  instrument,  l)ut  took 
 care  to  date  it  from  the  dungeon  of  Yin- 
 cennes.  He  was  then  liberated  from  prison, 
 but  his  captivity  was  changed  into  an  exile 
 of  two  years.  With  this  sole  authorization 
 in  hands,  the  Emperor  named  a  successor 
 to  the  See  of  Troyes,  as  if  it  had  really  be- 
 come vacant.  Tlie  Pope,  however,  having 
 no  document  of  canonical  resignation  before 
 him,  refused  the  Bull  of  institution.  This 
 disappointment  served  onjy  to  exasperate  the 
 Emperor's  wounded  feelings.  Too  proud 
 to  acknowledge  an  error  or  a  defeat,  and  too 
 crafty  not  to  dissemble  them,  he  wished  to 
 save  his  religion  by  a  show  of  proceeding, 
 and  his  imperial  honour  even  by  a  sham 
 Victory.  He  solicited  a  second,  but  more 
 canonical  form  of  resignation  j  confident 
 now  of  success,  as  the  Bishop  of  Troyes 
 could  no  longer  allege  his  captivity  as  a 
 motive  which  would  invalidate  such  acts, 
 and  as  he  imagined  that,  already  worn  out 
 
XYJl 
 
 \vith  his  coniinement  and  an  exile  of  two 
 yearsj  he  would  yield  for  his  own  personal 
 quiet  and  the  tranquillity  of  his  diocess. 
 Here,  however,  he  happily  miscalculated. 
 The  Prelate  peremptorily  refused  to  resign, 
 and  this  second  act  of  episcopal  firmness 
 merited  for  him  a  second  committal  to  tlie 
 same  prison,  where  he  remained  otlier  six 
 months,  and  where  he  would  have  longer 
 suffered,  with  other  friends  of  Religion,  had 
 not  a  just  Providence  visited  the  Persecutor 
 in  his  turn,  and  restored  the  August  and  Le- 
 gitimate Family  of  the  Bourbons. 
 
 Meanwhile,  the  Diocess  of  Troyes  was 
 much  agitated  by  the  diversity  of  interests 
 and  opinions,  which  resulted  from  this  un- 
 natural position  of  affairs.  Some  feeble 
 minds  yielded  to  the  torrent  of  circumstances 
 — others,  little  versed  in  Ecclesiastical  sci- 
 ence, imagined  they  were  governed,  in  the 
 interim y  by  a  legal  authority.  Some  few, 
 devoid  of  the  spirit  of  their  vocation,  hesi- 
 tated not  to  plunge  into  the  troubled  waters. 
 His    Lordship,    in   the  beautiful    Pastoral 
 
 b 
 
will 
 
 Instructlo/i^  in  which,  when  named  to  the 
 Archbishoprick  of  Yienne,  he  bids  so  tender 
 a  farewell  to  his  first  beloved  See,  laments 
 this  weakness,  pardons  this  ignorance,  but 
 consigns  to  eternal  shame  this  coward  apos- 
 tacy.  The  good  Pastor  forgets  not  the 
 faithful  portion  of  his  flock.  And,  indeed, 
 it  was  consoling  for  him,  on  this  occasion, 
 to  have  rather  to  applaud  than  to  condemn. 
 He  honours  their  fidelity  with  the  most  flat- 
 tering approbation,  and  thus  associates  them 
 to  his  own  merits  more  than  once  solemnly 
 recognised  by  his  present  Holiness.  It  is 
 not  the  only  instance,  in  which  Rome  has 
 rendered  him  this  authentic  testimony.  At 
 the  restoration  of  the  Bourl^ons,  he  was  ap- 
 pointed by  the  Pope,  to  represent  to  his  Most 
 Christian  Majesty  the  Views  of  the  Holy 
 See  on  the  various  necessities  of  the  Church 
 of  France ;  and  to  negociate  the  prelimi- 
 naries of  the  new  alliance,  so  long  desired, 
 between  Religion  and  Royalty.  A  ])elter 
 friend  of  both  could  not  have  been  chosen, 
 than  the  late  courageous  confessor  of  the  one, 
 
XIX 
 
 and  the  old  and  eloquent  advocate  of  the 
 other.  If  liis Lordship,  then,  was  named  un- 
 der Buonaparte  to  the  See  of  Troyes,  none  of 
 our  readers  should  consider  this  circum- 
 stance as  a  blemish  on  his  political  character. 
 His  elevation  was  rather  the  recompense  of 
 his  merits  than  the  boon  of  the  Prince's  par- 
 tiality. It  was  to  himself,  and  not  to  Buo- 
 naparte, that  he  owed  this  dignity.  ''  It  was 
 M.  E Ahhe  de  Boulo^ne^^  as  Her  Boyal 
 Highness,  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme,  so 
 graciously  and  so  flatteringly  said  to  him: 
 '•''It  was  M.  L'Abbe  de  Boulogne  that 
 created  the  Bishop  of  TroyesT 
 
 Beturned  after  an  absence  of  three  years, 
 he  employed  all  his  zeal  in  reforming  the 
 various  abuses  which  had  crept  into  the 
 administration  of  his  Diocess.  By  his  pas- 
 toral vigour  and  his  paternal  clemency,  he 
 succeeded  in  reclaiming  almost  all  the  re- 
 fractory, and  in  re-establishing,  as  the  Apostle 
 says,  the  unity  of  doctrine,  the  harmony 
 of  sentiment^  which  should  ever  reign  be- 
 tween the  Shepherd  and  the  Flock.      Since 
 
XV 
 
 that  time,  he  lias  continued  his  usual  Pas- 
 toral Instructions  for  the  Lent,  and  has 
 sometimes,  especially  in  those  latter  days, 
 gratified  his  readers  with  more  than  one  pub- 
 lication in  the  year. 
 
 '''Before  I  gr^ow  much  older^''  said  the 
 Illustrious  Prelate,  in  our  hearing,  '^  I  must 
 endeai^our  to  render soine  new  services  to 
 m.y  Religion    and  my    King.''     He   has, 
 indeed,  grown  old  in  the  love  and  defence 
 of  Religion   and  Royalty;    and  his  works 
 breathe  throughout  these  mingled  sentiments. 
 Hence,  perhaps,  this  uniformity,  w  hich  may 
 be  remarked  in  their  tone  and  general  bearing. 
 He  had  proposed  to  himself  one  great  object, 
 to  cure  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  age,  so 
 deeply  wounded  by  impiety  and  rebellion ; 
 to  recall  us  to  the  double  duty  we  owe  to 
 Religion  and  to  the  sublime  powers^    (l) 
 which  govern,  underGod,  this  lower  world. 
 This  is  the  double  yoke,  from  w^hich  mo- 
 dern philosophy  w^ould  emancipate  us.     His 
 
 (1)  Rom.  xm. 
 
XXI 
 
 Lordship  combats  it  in  its  last  retrenchments. 
 Here  he  displays  all  his  strength  j  here  he 
 turns  the  whole  brunt  of  his  warfare.  Hence 
 it  is,  that  he  appears  sometimes  to  repeat  the 
 same  strokes,  and  employs  so  frequently, 
 but  yet  so  happily,  this  pointed  antithesis, 
 which  pierces  the  foldings  of  sophistry  j 
 those  high,  inspirited  tones,  which  prove 
 his  own  conviction,  and  easily  inspire  it. 
 Hence,  this  frequent  cry  of  indignation,  so 
 familiar  to  high-born  souls  •  and  those  loud 
 appeals  to  eternity,  this  display  of  its  charms, 
 or  its  terrors,  to  which  the  most  guilty  minds 
 can  never  be  indifferent.  Hence,  those  sub- 
 lime invocations,  those  magnificent  ideas  of 
 the  Deity,  in  order  to  awaken  in  man  the 
 first  sentiment  he  feels,  and  which,  before 
 the  age  of  Sophistry,  it  was  thought  he  could 
 never  forfeit.  Here,  in  fine,  in  this  one 
 field  which  he  has  chosen  for  his  combats, 
 and  which  he  has  already  covered  with  his 
 trophies,  he  summons  up  all  that  Religion 
 and  Royalty,  Conscience  and  Country,  pos- 
 sess in  sacred  and  sublime  for  the  mind,  in 
 
XXll 
 
 powerful  and  pathetic  lor  the  heart,  to 
 clothe  ill  all  its  charms  and  all  its  strength 
 this  one  great  truth  he  would  inculcate,  this 
 one  great  sentiment  lie  would  inspire. 
 Hence  this  sameness  even  in  the  variety  of 
 his  movements  and  his  figures ;  but  the  ge- 
 neral, who  often  returns  to  the  charge,  and 
 thereby  surprises  and  dislodges  the  enemy, 
 merits  no  less  of  his  country,  than  if  he  had 
 displayed  in  battle  a  great  variety  of  evolu- 
 tions. He  must  often  follow  the  tactics  of 
 the  adverse  party,  and  when  they  retire  to 
 their  last  strong  hold,  there  must  he  point 
 all  his  battery.  Hence  it  is,  that  we  have 
 collected  the  most  of  all  his  pieces ;  happy, 
 indeed,  to  have  begun  this  literary  monu- 
 ment which  he  himself  appeared  to  neglect ; 
 but  happier  still,  to  have  thereby  embodied, 
 against  the  spirit  of  the  age,  those  great  prin- 
 ciples of  truth,  order  and  justice  laid  down 
 and  developed  in  his  different  Pastoral  In- 
 structions* 
 
 No  doubt,  we  should  not  look  for  therein 
 those  chaste  academic  graces,  lliose  harmo- 
 
XXlll 
 
 nious  tones,  this  classic  precision,  which  we 
 remark  in  his  panegyric  of  the  Great  Dau- 
 phin :  nor  yet  this  effusion  of  soul^  those 
 tender  strains,  with  which  he  hallows  the 
 memory  of  the  Martyr  Princes,  Nor, 
 indeed,  are  these  the  beauties  of  the  demon- 
 strative order,  which  should  reign  in  this 
 kind  of  polemic  writing.  But  thereby  has 
 he  proved,  that  his  genius  could  successfully 
 embrace  more  than  ones})ecies  of  eloquence. 
 And  though  we  here  subscribe,  with  all  the 
 deference  oi"  loyalty  and  all  the  pleasure  of 
 conviction,  to  his  Majesty's  refined  judg- 
 ment of  our  Illustrious  Author ;  though  we 
 say  to  him  with  the  King,  so  competent  in 
 matters  of  classic  taste  •  '•'You  will  ever  be 
 for  me  31.  L'Ahb^  de  Boulogne^  and 
 your  early  Victories  have  rendered  this 
 name  still  more  lasting  than  tliat  of  the 
 Bishop  of  Troyes'P  (l)  it  must  yet  be  ob- 
 
 (1)  M.  L'Eveque  de  Troyes  a  eu,  le  jeudi  12septeni- 
 bre  dernier,  une  audience  particuliere  dii  Roi.  S.  M.  lui 
 a,  dans  cette  circonstance,  adresse  les  choses  les  plus 
 flatfcuses.   Le  Trclat  ayanl  eu  occasion  de  parler  de  son 
 
XXIV 
 
 served,  that  his  mind,  even  at  the  advanced 
 period  of  seventy-six  years,  is  still  as  strong 
 and  as  vigorous  as  ever.  It  even  appears  to 
 shine  forth  with  more  brilliancy  and  force, 
 in  proportion  as  lie  advances  in  his  career  j 
 so  that,  when  other  suns  decline,  his  seems 
 to  mount  towards  its  meridian.  So  true  it  is, 
 that  the  spirit  of  God,  source  of  all  sci- 
 ence, (I)  does  not  count  our  years,  and  that, 
 as  he  unlocks  the  lips  of  children,  and  ren- 
 ders them  eloquent,  (2)  so  can  He,  at  any 
 age,  preserve  or  renew  the  youth  (3)  and 
 eagle-gaze  of  genius.  This  is  the  spirit 
 which  nourishes  the  Minister  of  the  Gospel 
 
 Eloge  du  Dauphin,  ouvrage  par  lequel  il  entra  dans  la 
 carriere  litteraire,  et  commenca  sa  reputation,  S.  M.  a 
 temoigne  qu'EIle  se  rappelait  parfaitement  ce  morceau 
 oratoire,  et  qu'EIle  ne  pouvait  oublier  ce  juste  hoaimage 
 rendu  a  son  Auguste  Pere  :  "  Vous  etes  tonjoiirs  pour  mot 
 ^'  M.  I' Abbe  de  Boulogne,  a  dit  le  Roi,  et  i^os  ann'ens  suc- 
 "  ces  ont  rendu  ce  nom  plus  durable  encore  que  celui  de 
 "  M.  I'Evequede  Troyes.  " 
 
 Journal  des  Debats.   Sep.  15,  1822. 
 
 (i)  I.  Kings,  II.  (2)  >Visd.  X. 
 
XXV 
 
 In  the  society  of  the  Prophets,  the  Apostles 
 and  the  Fathers ;  which  elevates  his  mind 
 above  the  vulgar  cares  and  pleasures  of  this 
 world  j  teaches  him  the  most  eminent  sci- 
 ence of  the  charity  of  Jesus  Christy  {}) 
 and,  by  giving  him  a  disgust  for  the  vain 
 science  which  only  inflates  the  mind^  (2) 
 and  the  wordly  spirit  which  dries  up  the 
 heart,  prepares  him  to  celebrate  with  dig- 
 nity, in  every  period  of  his  life,  tlie  name 
 of  his  Divine  Master,  and  to  close  his  ho- 
 nourable career  witli  all  the  recollections 
 and  all  the  hopes  of  an  Apostle.  (3) 
 
 This  is  the  source  from  which  he  must 
 draw  this  eloquence  of  the  heart,  which 
 alone  can  convince  and  convert.  It  was  at 
 this  school,  that  the  Prophets  educated  the 
 children  of  the  Temple.  Here,  did  they 
 teach  them  to  discern  and  interpret  the 
 Word  ^f  God  J  to  hear  and  cultivate  this 
 internal  voice^  (4)  which  spoke  to  them  in 
 
 (1)  Eph.  III.  (2)  I.  Cor.  VII r. 
 
 (■•5)  II.  Tim.  IV.  {h)   I.  Kings,  III. 
 
XXVI 
 
 the  lioly  hour  ot  their  pious  meditations. 
 Here,  have  the  Fathers,  the  Doctors,  the  Sa- 
 cred Orators,    found  those  subHme  docu- 
 ments, this  profound  science,  those  pious 
 maxims,    wliich  form,    in   their   writings, 
 the  double  chain  of  truth  and  morals,  that 
 links  us,    as    Bossuet   somewhere   says   it, 
 to  the  throne  of  God.     And  where  shall 
 we  look  for  sacred  eloquence,  if  not  in  its 
 very  source?  Where  shall  we  find  truth  and 
 charity,  which  are,  as  it  were,  its  essence 
 and  its  means,  if  not  in  the  books  of  truth 
 and  the   models  ot  charity :    Domine  ad 
 quern  ibimus?   And  Vv^liat  writings  can  be 
 compared  to  the  Sacred  Scripture  ?    It  bears 
 upon  itself  all  the  marks  of  inspiration,  and 
 as  much  excels  in  sublimity  and  beauty,  as 
 it  does  in  its  origin  and  its  end,  all  other 
 poetry  and  eloquence. 
 
 The  Pagans  (1 )  themselves  were  struck  with 
 admiration  at  its  imposing  features,  and, 
 perhaps,  owed  it  more  obligations  than  they 
 were   aware   of,    or    willing  to   recognise. 
 
 (1)  Longinus. 
 
XXVll 
 
 This  is  not  the  place,    nor,   happily,    the 
 time,  to  set  fortli  the  proofs  of  a  truth,  now 
 so  generally  acknowledged  and  already  so 
 ably  demonstrated.     Suffice  it  to  say,   that 
 there  is  no  sublime  emotion  of  the  soul,  no 
 tender  sentiment  of  the  heart,  no  beauty  of 
 classic  taste,  that  does   not  somewhere  find 
 its  image  and  its  model  in  this  book  by  ex- 
 cellence^ Avhich  opens  with  the  Father  of 
 history,  of  eloquence  and  of  song,  to  re- 
 ceive its  last  perfection  from  the  last  heir  of 
 Sion,  to  whom  the  Evangelists,  the  Apostles 
 and  the  Prophets,  seem  to  have  bequeathed 
 tlie  whole  heaven  of  their   harmony  and 
 their  colours.     Does  the  Preacher  wish  to 
 enforce  truth,  to  triumph  over  error,  to  per- 
 suade, to  convince?      Let  him  still  listen  to 
 St.  Paul,  let  liim  study  the  tone- and  manner 
 of  this  closest  reasoner,  this  first  logician, 
 this   ablest    controvertist ;    and  then,    per- 
 haps, like  Chrysostom,   he  may  catch  the 
 lire  of  his  zeal,  the  precision  of  his  positions, 
 and  the  strength  of  his  movements.     It  was, 
 in  a  \N  ord,  at  this  fountain  of  living  wa- 
 
XXVUl 
 
 ters^  (1)  which,  alter  hai'ing  rejoiced  the 
 cltj  ofGodj  (2)  flowed  on  and  fertilized  the 
 deserts  of  our  w  orld,  that  the  Theologian  of 
 Nanzianzurn,  the  Bishop  of  Gesarea,  the  Bi- 
 shop of  Carthage,  Augustine,  the  Gregories 
 and  Leos  of  Rome,  Bernard  and  the  pious 
 Fathers  of  the  Solitude  drank    so   deeply; 
 and  thence  transmitted  to  us  those  streams 
 of  sacred  eloquence^  which  Gibbon  him- 
 self would,  perhaps,  have  fomid  less  trou- 
 bled^ had  he  been  happy  enough  to  have 
 tasted  them.     It.  was  here  Bossuet  (himself 
 is  witness  !)  used  to  invigorate  his  mind  and 
 refresh  his  genius.      It    is  only  near  their 
 waters,  that  we  can  hope  to  gather  the  flow- 
 ers and  the  fruits  of  this  diviner  art.      Here, 
 must  we  cultivate  the  young  plants  of  the 
 sanctuary,  far  from  the  storms  of  the  world 
 and  tlie  contagion  of  its  vanities.    Formerly, 
 the  solitude  served  as  their  retreat,  and  the 
 arts  and  sciences,  neglected  elsewhere,  owed 
 more  than  once  to   its  shades   their  preser- 
 vation,   or  their  revival.     Alas  I    its  pious 
 
 (1)  Ap..c.  \\I.  (2)  l'<.  XLV. 
 
XXJ^ 
 
 inhabitants   are  no  more,    their  inheritance 
 has  been  plundered,  and  there  now  remain 
 but  some  of  their  grateful  pupils,  amongst 
 whom  our  Illustrious  Author,   to  show  us 
 where  thev  flourished,  and  teach  us,  by  their 
 example,  to  weep  over  their  tombs.     This 
 Great  Prelate,  distinguished  advocate  of  Re- 
 ligious education,  of  which  he  himself  had 
 so  well  profited,    continually  deplores  the 
 loss  of  those  respectable  Orders  and  Congre- 
 gations, to  which  it  had  been  confided.     He 
 did  not  hesitate  to  proclaim  his  opinion  on 
 their  necessity,  and  his  wish  for  their  return. 
 By  a  similar  feeling,   has    he   bent  all  his 
 cares  tovyards  the  re-establishment  or  reform 
 of  many  schools  in  his  Diocess,  but  chiefly 
 of  the  school  by  excellence,  as  he  so  happily 
 calls  his  Seminary.     We  too,    should  feel 
 with  him,   that  this  house  of  the  Lord^ 
 this  nursery  of  the  Priesthood,  should  now, 
 more  than  ever,  become  a  particular  object 
 of  Episcopal  solicitude,  on  account  of  the 
 decline  of  public  education,  the   dearth  of 
 labourers^  and  the  progressive  contagion  of 
 
the  times.  Hence  it  is,  that  we  liiid  the 
 Bishop  of  Troyes  so  often  recurring  to  the 
 charity  of  the  faitliful  and  to  Royal  mu- 
 nificence, in  favour  of  his  Establisliments. 
 He  himself  indeed  had  given  a  noble  exam- 
 ple, by  receiving  into  his  own  palace*  a 
 large  proportion  ot  his  candidates :  thereby 
 imitating  the  paternal  liospitality  oi  the  an- 
 cient Prelates. 
 
 His  zeal,  however,  is  not  confined  to  this 
 one  object.  It  eml^races  all  the  wants  and 
 miseries  of  the  age,  as  it  attacks  and  com- 
 bats their  principal  authors.  Hence,  his 
 celebrated  Pastoriil  Instruction^  already 
 translated  into  several  languages  of  the 
 continent,  against  Voltaire  and  Rousseau. 
 It  will  be  found  in  this  collection,  which 
 is  closed  by  the  latest  publication  of  our 
 Illustrious  Author,  on  the  excellence  and 
 utility  of  the  Alissions  considered  in 
 the  order  of  Religion  and  the  State. 
 These  two  letters  will  be  read  with  general 
 interest.  Some  of  our  Protestant  Brethren 
 may  there  unlearn  certain  unfounded  pre- 
 
XXXI 
 
 judices  againsl  us.  Government  will,  as 
 we  hope  it,  be  still  more  disposed  to  protect 
 the  Catholic  Religion,  w^hich  has  done  so 
 much  good  to  humanity,  Avherever  it  has 
 been  introduced j  and  which,  established 
 for  the  salvation  of  all,  moulds  itself  to 
 every  political  form  of  society,  as  it  power- 
 fully protects  all  its  better  interests.  Then, 
 perhaps,  Sacred  Literature  might  sooner 
 reflourish  amongst  us:  perhaps,  like  the 
 profane  letters,  it  too  requires  an  Augustus 
 and  a  Mecenas.  If  so,  we  love  to  think 
 that,  in  this  respect  also,  our  religion  will 
 not  be  persecuted,  but  protected ;  and  then, 
 every  obstacle  removed,  and  every  means 
 of  improvement  in  our  power,  Ave  may 
 hope  that,  as  our  Country  has  surpassed  all 
 other  Nations  in  the  glory  of  the  Bar  and 
 Senate,  she  will  attain  a  first  rank  amongst 
 them  in  Sacred  Eloquence. 
 
 We  stop  the  press,  to  gratify  our  Readers 
 with  our   Author's  beautiful   panegyric  of 
 
XXXIl 
 
 Saint  Vincent  of  Paul,  pronounced  on  the 
 21  St  of  October,  1822,  in  a  charitable  as- 
 sembly, at  the  hospital  of  Maria  Tlieresa, 
 in  Paris ;  and  which  Her  Royal  Highness 
 tlie  Duchess  of  Berry  honoured  with  her 
 presence.  We  leave  to  our  Readers,  of 
 every  religious  profession,  to  judge  by  this 
 single  discourse,  l^y  the  Priest  who  is  its 
 theme  and  tlie  Prelate  who  is  its  Author, 
 what  the  Catholic  Religion  can  do  for  the 
 happiness  of  man  and  the  glory  of  letters. 
 We  hasten  to  announce  to  the  public  ano- 
 ther work,  not  yet  edited,  on  tlie  causes 
 of  the  decline  of  literature^  and  of  sa- 
 cred eloquence  in  particular.  This  will 
 be  a  publication  of  general  interest  and 
 utility,  as  it  embraces  both  profane  and 
 sacred  letters  j  though  his  Lordship  chiefly 
 intends  it  for  the  candidates  of  pulpit  elo- 
 quence. 
 
PASTORAL  LETTER 
 
 OF  HIS  LORDSHIP 
 
 THE  BISHOP  OF  TROYES. 
 
 On  his  first  Entrance  hito  his  Diocess. 
 
 OTEPHEN  Anthony  ue  Boulogne,  by  the  Divine 
 Mercy  and  the  Grace  of  the  Holy  Apostohcal 
 See,  Bishop  of  Troyes,  Chalons-sur-Marne  and 
 Auxerre,  to  the  Clergy  and  the  Faithful  of  our 
 Diocess,  greeting  and  benediction  in  our  Lord 
 Jesus  Christ. 
 
 At  length,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  after 
 a  delay  much  longer  than  we  could  have  fore- 
 seen and  which  it  has  not  been  in  our  power 
 to  shorthen,  we  are  arrived  at  the  happy  moment 
 so  much  and  so  anxiously  expected.  It  is  indeed 
 wirii  a  hearfelt  joy,  that  we  behold  the  cessa- 
 tion of  those  imperious  circumstances,  that  have 
 hitherto  separated  the  Pastor  from  the  Flock, 
 
(2) 
 
 and  whicli,  in  checking  our  eagerness,  have 
 only  served  to  augment  it.  It  is  now  we  can  say 
 to  you  with  the  Apostle  :  Until  this  moment, 
 various  obstacles  had  prevented  us  from  follow- 
 ing the  movements  of  our  heart,  that  continually 
 directed  us  towards  you.  Impediebar  plurimum 
 venire  ad  vos,  et  prohibitus  sum  usque  adhuc.{\) 
 But  though  absent  in  person,  we  never  ceased 
 to  be  present  in  mind  in  the  midst  of  you.  (2) 
 We  did  not  the  less  thank  Divine  Providence 
 for  having  allotted  us  so  interesting  a  portion  of 
 the  Church  :  we  did  not  the  less  congratulate  our- 
 selves on  the  government  of  a  flock  so  worthy 
 of  our  tender  solicitude  :  we  did  not  the  less 
 rejoice  in  the  Lord,  in  the  ministry  of  salvation 
 and  grace  we  have  to  fulfil  amongst  you,  and 
 the  numberless  consolations  you  reserve  for  us, 
 Desidero  enim  ^ndeve  vos,  ut  aliquid  impertiav 
 vobis  graticB  spiritualis .  (3) 
 
 With  what  confidence  then  we  approach  you, 
 Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren;  with  what  joy  and 
 with  what  hopes  have  we  not  been  filled  by  all 
 that  we  have  heard  of  your  dispositions  in  our 
 reg-ard !  With  what  emotions  have  we  not 
 learned  the  vows  you  offered  for  us,  and  your 
 eagferness  to  receive  us  I     How  much  have  not 
 
 (1)  Rom.  XV,  22.      (2)  I.  Cor.  V,  S.       (3)  Rom.  I,  2. 
 
(3) 
 
 those  flattering  marks  of  your  zeal  and  piety 
 rekindled  our  courage  !  From  that  moment  we 
 felt  the  load  of  our  Episcopacy  grow  lighter. 
 We  have  forgotten  the  pains  attached  to  it,  in 
 order  to  contemplate  its  rewards  and  compen- 
 sations; and  your  affection,  which  we  have  not 
 yet  been  able  to  merit,  is  become  for  us  at 
 once  our  sweetest  encouragement  and  our  most 
 glorious  recompenseo 
 
 We  know  then,  may  we  say  it  with  the  Apos- 
 tle, we  know  that  we  come  in  the  midst  of  you 
 with  the  most  abundant  benedictions  of  the 
 Gospel :  Scio  quoniam  veniens  ad  vos  in  abun- 
 dantid  henedictionis  EvangeliiChristi  veniam.{\) 
 Benediction  on  a  people  so  renowned  for  their 
 loyalty,  their  goodness,  their  urbanity  and  their 
 respect  for  the-  ancient  and  hospitable  virtues. 
 Benediction  on  our  Episcopal  City,  distinguished 
 amongst  the  rest  by  the  abundant  variety  of  its 
 charities,  its  attachment  to  religion,  and  its  do- 
 cility to  the  instruction  of  its  Pastors.  Bene- 
 diction on  our  Clergy  sorecommendable  for  their 
 doctrine  and  virtues;  so  capable,  by  this  double 
 title,  of  supporting  the  ancient  fame  of  the 
 Church  of  Troyes.     Benediction  on  those  res- 
 
 (1)  Rom.  XV,  29. 
 
peclable  magislrales,  so  inclined  to  second  us, 
 so  friendly  to  the  cause  of  order  and  justice,  and 
 consequently  to  the  cause  ot  religion,  without 
 which  no  order  nor  justice  can  exist.  In  a  word, 
 benediction  on  our  Episcopal  Ministry;  and,  in- 
 deed, we  dare  to  hope  it  from  the  Divine  Mercy, 
 as  at  the  bottom  of  our  hearts  we  can  render 
 ourselves  this  testimony,  that  we  have  not  called 
 ourselves  to  its  functions ;  that  we  have  not  to 
 reproach  ourselves  the  smallest  desire  or  effort 
 to  ohtainfroni  the  Prince  the  chair  of  honour }{\ ) 
 and  by  the  persuasion  in  which  we  are  founded, 
 that  the  same  Providence,  which  has  done  all 
 without  us,  will  do  all  with  us,  and  will  deign  to 
 accept,  in  expiation  of  our  faults,  the  sacrifice 
 we  have  made  of  our  independence  and  our 
 repose. 
 
 Yes,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  it  is  with 
 the  most  lively  confidence,  we  can  say  to  you 
 with  Pope  Saint  Leo  :  He  who  imposed  the  bur- 
 den on  me,  will  be  my  assistance  and  support : 
 He  who  conferred  the  dignity,  will  also  give  the 
 strength  that  is  necessary  to  preserve  so  feeble 
 a  being  from  falling  under  the  weight  of  so 
 great  a  grace.      Quoniani  qui  oneris  est  auctor, 
 
 (1)  Eccl.  VII,  A. 
 
(5  ) 
 
 ipse  Jiet  administrationis  adjiitorj  cl  ne  sab 
 magnitudine  gratice  succumbat  iiifirmitas,  dabit 
 virtuteni  qui  contidit  dignitatem.  (1) 
 
 The  very  fact  of  succeeding-  so  holj  a  Pontiff 
 as  our  predecessor,  is  for  us  a  source  of  courage 
 and  of  confidence.  For  if,  on  the  one  hand,  his 
 venerated  memory  imposes  on  us  great  obliga- 
 tions ;  if  it  be  difficult  to  replace  a  man,  in  whom 
 the  episcopal  spirit  shone  out  so  eminently,  a 
 model  of  meekness,  charity,  simplicity  and  zeal, 
 ornamented,  in  a  word,  with  all  the  virtues  that 
 render  piety  amiable;  on  the  other  hand,  what 
 advantages  do  we  not  find  in  labouring  in  a  field 
 cultivated  by  his  own  cares,  embalmed  with  the 
 good  odour  of  his  examples,  covered  over  with 
 his  services  and  his  good  works,  and  to  enter 
 thus  on  the  inheritance  of  his  zealous  labours 
 and  the  abundant  fruits  of  his  solicitude. 
 
 Still,  however  great  and  multiplied  those 
 motives  of  encouragement  and  consolation,  we 
 cannot  overlook  the  difficulties  and  contradic- 
 tions which  roughen  the  new  path  we  are  going 
 to  pursue.  If  ever  it  was  crowded  with  obsta- 
 cles, it  is  no  doubt  in  an  age,  in  which,  to  new 
 maxims  we  must  oppose  new  precautions;  to 
 new   dangers,    new  vigilance;  to  new  attacks, 
 
 (1)  Seiin.  I.  De  Anniversario  Assumptionis  suse. 
 
new   efforts,    and   to    new  oppositions  of  false 
 science,  (1)  new  combats  and  new  arms. 
 
 But  wLat  is  calculated  to  inspire  us  with 
 grounded  alarms,  what  renders  our  functions 
 painful  and  sterile,  is  the  small  number  of  sacred 
 ministers.  How  many  fields  without  cultivators  I 
 What  harvests  without  labourers  !  And  how 
 our  soul  has  been  saddened  on  learning,  that  of 
 near  eight  hundred  parishes  which  compose  our 
 Diocess,  there  is  almost  one  third  of  them  de- 
 void of  Pastors.  Who  shall  fill  up  this  immense 
 breach,  which  is  daily  enlarging?  Thanks  to  the 
 zeal  of  our  predecessor,  and  to  the  generous 
 dispositions  of  the  faithful ;  thanks  to  the  new 
 encouragement  granted  by  the  state  for  clerical 
 education ;  we  behold  forming  around  us  the 
 school  of  the  priesthood,  where  talent  is  proved 
 as  well  as  vocation,  and  where  the  ardour  of 
 piety  rivals  with  the  ardour  of  science.  AVe 
 have  the  firm  hope,  that  those  young  plants,  well 
 cultivated,  will  produce  good  fruits  in  their  sea- 
 son, and  that  our  candidates,  already  the  models 
 of  students,  will  be  one  day  the  edification  of 
 the  flocks  to  be  confided  to  their  vigilance.  But 
 how  little  are  those  resources  calculated  to  suf- 
 fice for  the  present,  and  to  tranquiUise  us  for  the 
 
 (1)  Tim.  Yi,  '^O. 
 
future.  The  Ji^'e  barley  loaves  and  the  two 
 fishes,  multiplied  by  Jesus  Christ  in  the  desert, 
 were  scarcely  less  disproportioned  to  the  nou- 
 rishment of  five  thousand  men,  than  the  paucity 
 of  our  candidates  to  the  wants  of  so  vast  a 
 Diocess,  and  to  replace  all  those  ancients  of  the 
 sanctuary,  who  are  disappearing  every  day,  and 
 with  whom  are  burying  in  one  common  grave 
 the  last  remains  of  our  riches  in  lights,  talents, 
 virtues,  instruction  and  experience. 
 
 Hence,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  this  pro- 
 gressive corruption  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
 country,  who,  in  accustoming  themselves  to  live 
 without  pastors,  are  consequently  habituated  to 
 live  without  morality.  Formerly,  atleast  good  mo- 
 rals, banishedfrom  cities  by  luxury  andindolence, 
 used  to  take  refuge  amongst  our  peasantry;  but 
 since  they  have  begun  to  wander  like  sheep  with- 
 out a  shepherd,  (1 )  deprived  of  christian  educa- 
 tion, the  only  one  they  can  receive,  and  of  that 
 familiar  religious  instruction,  the  only  one  they 
 can  comprehend;  since  they  have  ceased  to  enjoy 
 the  spectacle  of  our  holy  ceremonies,  which,  in 
 softening  their  manners,  innocently  distracted 
 them  from  their  toilsome  labours,  corruption  has 
 overflown   amongst  them  like   a  torrent,  their 
 
 (1)  Mark  VI,  U. 
 
(8) 
 
 probitj  has  disappeared  willi  their  simplicity^ 
 their  happiness  with  their  belief,  and  they  have 
 left  us  to  behold  those  excesses  of  incredulity 
 and  licentiousness  that  seemed  reserved  only  for 
 the  most  dissolute  capitals.  Even  the  youth  are 
 become  learned  in  the  art  of  perversity,  and  the 
 tribunals  of  justice  in  their  astonishment  scarcely 
 believe  the  crimes  they  are  obliged  to  punish. 
 A  striking-  example,  which  demonstrates  to  the 
 less  clear-sighted,  that  there  is  no  religion  with- 
 out pastors,  and  no  moral  without  religion.  In 
 vain  the  sophists  of  the  age  would  artfully  en- 
 deavour to  disguise  this  great  truth.  It  will  still 
 be  true,  that  nothing  can  ever  replace  the  sweet 
 insinuations  of  pastoral  authority;  that,  unaided, 
 it  can  simplify  the  painful  and  complicated  ope- 
 rations of  government,  and  that,  wherever  the 
 ministers  of  charity  shall  have  disappeared,  we 
 must  necessarily  multiply  the  ministers  of  jus- 
 lice.  It  will  still  remain  demonstrated,  that 
 there  can  exist  for  the  people  no  other  philo- 
 sophy than  the  catechism;  that  for  them  there 
 can  be  no  more  morality  without  representatives, 
 than  justice  without  tribunals;  that  those  repre- 
 sentatives can  only  be  the  ambassadors  of  the 
 Most  High  and  the  interpreters  of  the  Divine 
 Laws  ;  that  they  alone  can  teach  with  authority; 
 
(9  ) 
 and  that,  in  a  word,  wherever  there  is  no  mo- 
 ralitj  preached,  there  never  will  be  any  morality 
 practised. 
 
 But  what  really  menaces  the  entire  ruin  of 
 morals,  and  what  places  Pastors  in  a  disposition 
 unexampled  in  the  history  of  morality  and  reli- 
 gion, is  this  indifference  for  religion  itself,  true 
 character  of  our  age.  And  when  we  speak  of 
 indifference  for  religion,  we  have  precisely  in 
 view  the  forgetfulness  of  religious  duties,  the 
 neglect  of  the  sacred  mysteries  and  the  exer- 
 cises of  christian  piety.  We  speak  of  this  sys- 
 tematical indifference,  which  tends  to  neutralise 
 ail  religious  principles  and  simplify  all  creeds  ; 
 of  this  abandonment  of  all  truths,  which  consists 
 rather  in  forgetting  than  in  refuting  them,  in 
 leaving  tliem  aside  than  in  attacking  them;  of 
 this  fatal  indolence,  which  throws  the  shade  of 
 suspicion  on  every  species  of  zeal,  and  brands 
 religion  with  the  censure  of  intolerance  if  she 
 dares  to  defend  her  own  cause,  whilst  every 
 opinion  has  its  champion  and  every  system  its 
 partisan.  We  speak  of  this  false  philanthropy, 
 decorated  with  the  fair  name  of  moderation, 
 with  which  they  pretend  to  do  honour  to  the 
 polished  mildness  of  ourmanners,  whileit  simply 
 marks  the  nullity  of  our  principles.  In  fine , 
 we  speak  of  this  species  of  tacit  capitulation  with 
 
(  JO  ) 
 
 every  creed,  which,  under  the  pretext  of  tran- 
 quillising  consciences,  shakes  all  certainty  to  its 
 basis  and  gives  tranquillity  only  to  vice.  Shameful 
 compromise,  fatal  source  of  destructive  impiety  ! 
 perfidious  truce,  which  silently  undermines  every 
 principle  of  social  order,  relaxes  every  spring 
 of  moral  life,  dissolves  all  civil  bonds  in  dis- 
 solving those  of  religion,  and,  by  ruining  the 
 whole  foundation  of  sound  belief,  saps,  with  the 
 same  stroke,  the  whole  foundation  of  sound 
 morality ! 
 
 This  is  what  the  illustrious  Bossuet  announced, 
 when  from  the  chair  of  truth,  in  which  he  so 
 eloquently  instructed  generations  and  ages,  he 
 exclaimed  :  '^  I  foresee,  that  libertines  and  free - 
 '^  thinkers  may  he  discredited,  not  indeed  from 
 "  any  horror  for  their  sentiments^  hut  by  thein- 
 ' '  difference  in  which  men  shall  hold  every  things 
 "  save  their  pleasures  and  their  affairs."  {\) 
 0  prophecy  too  visibly  accomplished!  Picture, 
 alas!  too  faithful  of  the  manners  of  our  age  I 
 Thus  the  liuman  mind,  after  having  exhausted, 
 during  eighteen  centuries,  all  the  arts  of  so- 
 phistry and  all  the  modes  of  misbelief  in  dogma, 
 morals,  mysteries  and  every  object  of  revelation, 
 finds  itself  brought  round,  by  the  very  chain  of 
 
 (1)  Scrmou  for  the  second  Sunday  in  Advent. 
 
( 1^  ) 
 
 its  own  errors,  to  doubt  whether  men  believe  or 
 do  not  believe,  and  to  make  religion  a  mere 
 problem  without  result,  a  word  without  signifi- 
 cation, an  abstraction  without  consequence. 
 
 Indifference  so  much  the  more  fatal,  as  at  this 
 moment,  whenf'rance  is  seeking  to  repose  on 
 her  ancient  foundations,  when  new  institutions 
 and  a  new  legislation  are  forming,  it  is  of  the 
 last  importance  to  give  to  soul  a  new  temper, 
 to  wind  up  its  enfeebled  springs,  to  lend  new 
 vigour  to  morals,  to  public  confidence  a  new 
 guarantee,  and  to  virtue  a  new  lustre,  by  giving 
 to  religion  a  new  authority.  AVhat  is  there,  we 
 ask,  less  calculated  to  produce  those  grand 
 effects,  than  this  indifference,  which  slackens  the 
 nerves  of  policy  in  relaxing  those  of  religion, 
 and  deprives  the  soul  of  energj  in  robbing  it  of 
 its  conviction?  It  is  faith  that  animates  all: /£ 
 is  by-  faith,  says  St.  Paul,  that  the  fust  man 
 liveth.  (1)  It  is  the  strength  of  belief  alone  that 
 produces  the  energy  of  virtue.  Where  there  is 
 no  conviction,  there  is  no  action ;  he,  who  be- 
 lieves nothing,  practises  nothing.  As  strength 
 of  character  puts  forth  great  resolutions,  strength 
 of  principle  inspires  great  sentiments  and  great 
 virtues.     It  is  then,  indeed,    we   behold  those 
 
 (1)  Rom.  I,  17. 
 
(  '12  ) 
 
 heroic  spirits,  that  dare,  in  their  high  aspirings, 
 to  hope  and  execute  whatever  thej  may  have 
 undertaken.     It  is  then,  as  Christ  so  admirably 
 says,  that  one  is  capable  of  transporting  moun- 
 tains, (1)  that  is  to  say,  of  overcoming  oneself, 
 of  surmounting  the  greatest  obstacles  in  the  way 
 of  virtue,  and  of  bringing   forth    all  the  pro- 
 digies of  heroism.  Indifference,  on  the  contrary, 
 is  the  vice  of  feeble  and  wasted  spirits ;  with  it 
 man  does  nothing,  surmounts  nothing,  sacrifices 
 nothing;  the  public  good  is  nothing.     Under  its 
 cold  and  mortal  shade,   every  heart  is  withered 
 into  sterility   and  langour.      Omne   caput  lan- 
 guidiun.  (2)  And,  indeed,   what  can  Le  hoped 
 from  this  sad  philosophy,    which   judges  all  to 
 despise  all,  or  rather  which  despises  all  to  judge 
 of  nothing?     What  noble  efforts,  what  gene- 
 rous   emotions,   what    sublime     inspirations   of 
 virtue,  can  we  expect  from  those  beings,  who 
 call  themselves  impartial,   because  they   place 
 truth  and  falsehood   on  the  same  line,  and  who 
 boast  to  be  the  enemies  of  every  exaggeration, 
 because  on  no  point  have  they  a  fixed  idea  or 
 settled  judgment?  Are  they  not  those  men,  whom 
 St.  Jude  compares  to  clouds  without  water  and 
 to  trees  twice  dead,  (3)  dead  to  truth  as  well  as 
 
 (1)  Mark  XIj  23.     (2)  Isai.  I,  5.     (o)  St.  Jude,  12. 
 
(13) 
 
 to  virtue?  Is  it  not  of  them  that  the  Prophet 
 has  said  :  They  are  corrupted  in  their  ways; 
 there  is  not  one  that  doeth  good;  thej  are  all 
 become  useless,  and  their  wisdom,  as  well  as  their 
 
 faith,  is  reduced  to  nothing.  (1)    Simul  inutiles 
 
 facti  sunt. 
 
 And  what  is  still  more  deplorable,  Our  Dearlj 
 Beloved  Brethren,  this  age  applauds  its  own 
 misery,  and  triumphs  in  its  very  corruption.  It 
 looks  upon  this  confusion  of  principles  as  the 
 last  complement  of  human  wisdom,  and  ima- 
 gines thereby  to  have  seized  the  knot  of  every 
 difficulty  in  morals  and  politics.  It  flatters  itself 
 to  have  resolved  every  doubt,  when,  imitating 
 those  false  prophets  and  lying  physicians  spoken 
 of  by  the  Prophet  Jeremy,  it  repeats  with  them  : 
 Peace,  peace,  where  there  is  no  peace;  (2)  as  if 
 there  could  be  peace  for  the  impious;  as  if  the 
 real  enemies  of  peace  were  not  those,  who, 
 under  the  pretext  of  concord  and  union,  semi 
 forth  new  opinions,  displace  the  land-marks 
 fixed  hy  our  fathers,  and  stir  up  at  the  bottom 
 of  the  human  heart  every  seditious  thought  and 
 every  restless  sentiment;  as  if  a  peace,  that 
 destroys  virtue  in  its  very  root,  could  ever  be 
 useful  and  profitable ;  as  if  languor  were  peace, 
 
 (1)  Psalm  XIII,  3.  (2)  Jer.  VI,  U. 
 
( 14 ) 
 
 apathy  peace,  and  the  torpidness  of  every  men- 
 tal faculty  were  peace  ;  as  if  death  itself  had 
 not  its  peace,  and  the  tombs  their  tranquillity. 
 
 Ah  !  doubtless,  religious  peace  is  the  greatest 
 of  all  blessings,  and  woe  to  us,  if  we  do  not 
 make  every  effort  to  preserve  it !  Woe  to  those 
 who  should  attempt  to  disturb  it  by  dangerous 
 disputes,  interminable  questions,  and  those  con- 
 troversies  of -words,  (1 )  against  which  the  Apostle 
 has  taken  care  to  caution  us.  But  this  peace,  so 
 desirable  and  so  precious,  consists  in  the  unity, 
 not  in  the  confusion  of  principles;  in  the  charily 
 of  Christ  Jesus,  not  in  the  policy  of  the  world: 
 in  truth  which  unites,  not  in  error  which  divides. 
 Every  other  peace  is  no  peace  :  it  is  the  trea- 
 cherous calm  that  precedes  the  tempest ;  it  is 
 not  edification,  but  destruction ;  not  the  health 
 of  empires,  but  their  decline;  the  surest  symptom 
 of  their  utter  decadence,  the  last  and  cureless 
 stage  of  their  latest  decrepitude. 
 
 And  we  also,  said  St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzum 
 to  the  pretending  peace-makers  of  his  day,  and 
 we  also  love  peace  ;  but  the  peace  we  desire  is 
 not  that  which  should  be  purchased  by  the  loss 
 of  morals  and  the  contempt  of  the  holy  canons, 
 whereby  we  should  consent  to  relax  the  severity 
 
 (1)  Tim.  VI,  A. 
 
(15) 
 
 of  our  principles,  to  acquire  the  hollow  reputa- 
 tion of  mildness  and  condescension;  for  good  is 
 not  to  be  done  by  evil  means.  (1)  The  name  of 
 peace  is  imposing,  the  idea  of  union  is  beautiful, 
 sajs  St.  Hilary;  (2)  but  this  peace  can  only  be 
 found  in  the  unity  of  the  church  and  that  of 
 doctrine.  Otherwise,  it  is  not  the  peace  of  Jesus 
 Christ.  If  the  faith,  which  preserves  the  empire, 
 is  in  safety,  said  another  great  Bishop  to  an  Em- 
 peror, this  is  the  charity  alone  worthy  our  de- 
 sires ;  charity,  still  greater  than  the  empire 
 itself,  as  it  is  its  shield  and  safeguard.  Hoec  est 
 caritas  expetenda^  hoec  est  caritas  major  imperio, 
 si  fides  iuta  sit  quce  servat  imperium.  (3) 
 
 Such  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  is 
 the  great,  or  rather^  as  the  Scriptures  have  it, 
 the  desperate  wound  inflicted  on  the  Church, 
 despevata  est  plaga  ejus.  (4)  For,  what  can  we 
 oppose  to  this  state  of  things  ?  We  may  resist 
 violence  and  open  force ;  but  how  shield  our- 
 selves from  indifference  and  disdain,  those  invi- 
 sible arms  that  mock  every  species  of  resistance? 
 How  shall  we  dislodge  impiety  from  this  hold, 
 where,  fatigued  with  combats,  it  has  fixed  its 
 last  retrenchment?     We  know  the  remedies  of 
 
 (1)  Oral.  XLII,  n°13.  (2)  Lib.  contra  Auxent. 
 
 (3)  Ambr.  ad  Valeiit.  de  non  restituenda  Ara  Victoriae. 
 (A)  Mich.  I,  9. 
 
(  16  ) 
 
 corporal  diseases;  but  who  shall  discover  the 
 cure  of  this  epidemic  malady  of  the  mind?  We 
 may  relieve  the  patient,  that  desires  his  reco- 
 very ;  but  how^  undertake  his  treatment?  Who 
 shall  save  the  wretch  that  does  not  wish  it,  that 
 does  not  even  know  that  he  is  sick,  and  who  in 
 the  very  jaws  of  death  has  all  the  confidence  and 
 security  of  health?  We  know  how  to  refute  an 
 error  or  defend  a  principle;  but  what  refutation, 
 what  instruction  rensains,  when  doubt  usurps 
 all,  and  the  first  tenet  is  the  contempt  of  every 
 principle?  We  know  the  curb  to  be  imposed 
 on  religious  enthusiasm,  as  ^\e  find  it  in  religion 
 itself;  but  how  arrest  the  progress  of  philo- 
 sophical fanaticism?  Where  is  its  counterpoise? 
 How  convey  reason  to  men,  who  acknowledge 
 no  other  rule  of  truth  but  their  own  reasoij,  and 
 who,  like  those  vainly-presumptuous  Pharisees 
 spoken  of  in  St.  John,  tell  us  coldly  and  dogma- 
 tically :  We  are  wise,  because  we  are  wise — 
 and  we  see,  because  we  see.  Quia  videidus.  (1) 
 In  short,  we  may  stop  a  torrent  in  its  impetuous 
 course;  but  who  shall  stir  the  dull  and  dormant 
 waters  of  this  reasoned  corruption,  which  de- 
 lights in  its  own  stagnancy,  and  feels  no  other 
 motions  than  those  of  cupidity  and  intrigue  ? 
 
 (1)  John  IX,  hi. 
 
( IT) 
 
 Who  but  God  himself,  by  a  singular  miracle  of 
 his  mercy,  can  deliver  us  from  this  undefinable 
 torpor,  which  disconcerts  at  once  the  observa- 
 tions of  the  wise  and  the  solicitude  of  Pastors, 
 and  from  this  moral  consumption,  against  which 
 can  prevail  neither  force  of  reason,  nor  force  of 
 zeal,  nor  force  of  laws,  nor  force  of  arms? 
 
 And  yet,   what  more  calculated  to  rouse  us 
 from  this  mortal  lethargy,  than  the  chain  of  those 
 great  events  which   have  passed,  and   are   still 
 daily  passing,  before  our  eyes?  Let  us  open  the 
 great  book  of  the  world,  in  which  the  finger  of 
 God  is  so  strikingly  imprinted,  that  not  to  per- 
 ceive its  traces  were  voluntarily  to  close  our 
 eyes  against  the  light.     What  more  imposing 
 lessons  can  we  receive  on  the  nothingness  of 
 creatures,  and  the  incurable  weakness  attached 
 to  human  projects,  than  to  behold  those  proud 
 and   powerful  monarchies   fall  with  the   same 
 facility  as  the  shrub-leaf?     How  shall  we  then 
 abstain  from  feeling  that  nothing  is  permanent 
 under  the  sun ;  that  human  grandeur  is  as  little 
 solid  as  human  happiness ;  that  every  thing  grows 
 old  but  God,  and  that,  if  there  be  on  earth  a 
 true  philosophy,  it  consists  in  attaching  ourselves 
 to  nothing  in  this  universal  wreck,  save  to  the 
 immortal  King  of  Ages  P  What  more  proper  to 
 recall  our  minds   to  the  Sovcreiyfn  Arbiter  of 
 
(18) 
 
 things,  than  to  contemplate  him  disporting,  as  it 
 were,  in  this  world,  (1 )  and  mocking,  from  hea- 
 ven, all  human  wisdom;  (2)  at  one  time  preparing" 
 events,  bj  means  in  appearance  most  opposite  to 
 their  success;  at  another,  advancing  them  with 
 such  rapidity,  that  it  is  no  longer  in  the  power  of 
 man  to  impede  them;  and  when  He  pleases  to 
 raise  some  and  to  depress  others,  inspiring  the 
 former  with  the  irresistible  will,  which  bears  all 
 before  it,  and  that  strength  of  genius  whicli  seems 
 to  swaj  the  very  destinies,  whilst  the  latter  are 
 ruled  by  that  imbecility  which  yields  up  all,  and 
 the  spirit  of  infatuation  which  abuses  even  the 
 lights  it  may  possess.  Thus  it  becomes  evident, 
 that  God  is  here  the  great  and  only  agent,  be- 
 cause man  is  always  hurried  on  further  than 
 he  thinks,  or  further  than  he  wishes;  that  He 
 alone,  properly  speaking,  makes  peace  and  war, 
 and  that  He  never  makes  use  of  either  but  to 
 conduct  all  to  His  own  ends,  and  to  exercise  on 
 nations  His  awful  judgments.  What  more  cal- 
 culated to  confound  the  enemies  of  Providence, 
 who  feign  not  to  comprehend  how  the  God  of 
 Heaven  can  govern  this  earth !  for  if  a  feeble 
 mortal  can  move,"fl5  ifthejwere  a  single  man,{2>) 
 so  many  and  such  formidable  armies ;  if  he  can 
 
 (1)  ProY.  VHr,  3L     (2)  Ps.II,  A.     (3)  Judic.XX,  11. 
 
( 19) 
 
 execute  with  such  facility  such  great  and  me- 
 morable enterprises,  what  must  we  say  of  the 
 Almighty,  when  He  stretches  forth  his  arm  F  (1 ) 
 With  what  prompt  obedience  must  not  every 
 thing,  both  means  and  obstacles,  ply  under  His 
 living  hands?  If  genius,  whose  duration  is  mea- 
 sured by  a  single  day,  can  foresee,  at  such  a 
 distance,  events,  whose  issue  it  still  seems  rather 
 to  conjecture  than  direct ;  if  genius,  unaided 
 and  alone,  can  combine  those  vaster  plans  which 
 embrace  the  universe,  what  must  be  that  eter- 
 nal intelligence,  of  which  all  others  are  but  a 
 feeble  emanation  ?  If  tlie  war-bolt,  launched 
 by  a  mortal  arm,  can  strike  so  mighty  and  such 
 a  distant  blow,  what  must  we  say  of  Him  who 
 rules  the  lightning,  of  this  God  of  Majesty,  who 
 thunders  from  the  highest  heavens,  and  draws 
 from  his  secret  treasures  the  whirlwind  and  the 
 storm  F  (2) 
 
 But  how  much  more  is  not  the  soul  elevated, 
 when  amidst  those  great  catastrophes  and  those 
 dreadful  hurricanes  that  uproot  the  empires,  and 
 those  unheard-of  changes  which  chequer  the 
 destinies  of  this  world,  we  behold  Religion  still 
 august  and  venerable,  still  like  unto  herself,  still 
 stronger  than  all  revolutions,   still  erect  when 
 
 (1)   Jerem.  XXII,  17.  (2)  Jerem.  X,  13. 
 
(  20) 
 
 every  thing  is  falling  around  her  :  still,  whatever 
 hermisfortunes  or  success,  pursuing  majestically 
 her  glorious  destination  —  that  of  sanctifying 
 souls,  and  of  rendering  happy  or  miserahle  the 
 nations  that  submit  to  her  laws,  or  resist  her 
 lights.  Splendid  fact,  victorious  demonstration, 
 which  speaks  more  powerfully  for  rehgion  than 
 miracles  themselves;  or  rather,  subsisting  mi- 
 racle, which  baffles  all  the  art  of  reasoners  and 
 sophists ;  miracle  beyond  all  illusion,  within  the 
 reach  of  the  humblest  of  the  faithful,  which  con- 
 firms him  without  any  difiiculty  in  the  principles 
 of  the  faith,  by  giving  him  this  sweet  assurance, 
 that  were  a  new  deluge  to  submerge  the  world, 
 a  new  ark  would  float  upon  its  waters  to  save 
 the  family  of  the  just,  and  the  church  in  which 
 alone  they  are  begotten. 
 
 Thus  the  true  Christian  knows  how  to  con- 
 template, in  the  spectacle  of  human  affairs,  that 
 of  things  divine ;  thus  all  difficulties  vanish  be- 
 fore the  great  considerations  of  our  faith ;  thus 
 every  thing  becomes  a  gain  for  tlie  true  Chris- 
 tian, every  thing  instructs  and  consoles  him,  and 
 he  explains  all  by  the  inexplicable  Being :  whilst 
 the  impious  man,  having  no  rule  but  his  false 
 prudence,  no  compass  but  his  desolating  doubts, 
 strays  uncertain  and  bewildered  between  chance, 
 
(21   ) 
 
 which  explains  nothing,  and  annihilation,  which 
 destroys  all. 
 
 And  yet,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  who 
 remounts  to  this  first  principle  of  things  ?  \Vho 
 meditates  on  those  grand  objects?  Who  makes 
 those  serious  reflections  on  himself?  Who  trem- 
 bles under  the  hand  of  God,  or  awakens  at  those 
 mighty  strokes,  whose  repercussion  is  felt  at  suck 
 a  distance  P  (1 )  All  those  astonishing  scenes 
 pass  before  us,  like  those  shades  which  amuse 
 children,  and  serve  at  most  as  a  frivolous  pas- 
 time for  politicians  and  essayists.  What  a  new 
 mystery  is  this,  that  amidst  all  those  changes 
 man  alone  does  not  change,  and  that,  whilst 
 every  thing  is  renewing  around  us,  nothing 
 should  be  renewed  within  us  ?  This  is  the  deso-^ 
 lation  of  which  the  prophet  speaks,  in  which 
 man,  deaf  to  every  lesson  he  receives  from  hea- 
 ven, thinks  on  nothing,  foresees  nothing,  never 
 descends  into  his  own  heart :  heedless  of  the 
 future,  dissipated  for  the  present,  he  abandons 
 himself  at  random  to  the  course  of  events,  and 
 takes  no  interest  but  in  what  affects  his  repose 
 or  his  fortune.  It  is  this  incredible  levity,  or, 
 to  speak  with  the  prophet,  this  fascination  of 
 frivolity,  (2)  which  so  darkens  the  most  vivid 
 
 (1)  Disc,  on  Univ.  Hist.  (2)  Wisd.  IV,  1% 
 
(  22  ) 
 
 lights,  that  God  instructs  and  no  one  receives  his 
 instructions.  (1)  He  thunders  and  no  one  listens; 
 He  strikes  and  no  one  reforms  j  He  manifests 
 himself  every  where,  and  He  is  seen  no  where. 
 And  what  can  we  in  this  fatal  disposition  of  the 
 heart  and  mind?  What  resource  remains  for 
 our  zeal  .^  How  cultivate  a  field  covered  over 
 with  those  dry  bones,  which  lie  bleacliing  on  ils 
 surface,  as  in  the  vision  of  Ezechiel,  if  the  Lord 
 himself,  hy  a  new  miracle,  does  not  reanimate 
 those  senseless  corses,  does  not  breathe  over  those 
 dead  that  they  may  live  anew  P  (2) 
 
 But  have  we  not  already  said  too  much,  Our 
 Dearly  Beloved  Brethren;  do  we  not  appear 
 thereby  to  distrust  that  Providence  which  so 
 particularly  watches  over  this  empire  ?  Behold 
 the  ray  of  light  which  pierces  the  clouds  and 
 rises  on  our  horizon !  Behold  the  happy  revolu- 
 tion that  is  going  to  take  place  in  national  in- 
 struction, and  the  regeneration  so  long  wished 
 for  of  public  education  !  He  who  has  put  an 
 end  to  our  civil  discords  and  the  anarchy  of  our 
 laws,  has  also  resolved  to  abolish  the  anarcliy  of 
 our  schools.  In  restoring  our  altars,  he  thought 
 that  something  would  still  have  been  wanting  to 
 his  glory,  if  he  had  not  been  at  the  same  time 
 
 (1)  Sophon.  Ill,  2.  (2)  Ezechiel  XXXVII.  .9. 
 
(  23  ) 
 
 the  restorer  ol  our  sliidies.  After  so  many  un- 
 successful essays,  after  so  many  systems  and  so 
 many  plans,  -which  differed  only  in  their  degrees 
 of  folly ;  after  so  many  theories  as  idly  presump- 
 tuous as  they  were  happily  impracticable,  the 
 French  University,  created  by  the  genius  of 
 Charlemagne,  has  been  latterly  re-established 
 on  her  ancient  basis ;  celebrated  school,  illus- 
 trious and  fruitful  parent  of  so  many  others, 
 which  formerly  diffused  her  lights,  like  the  sun, 
 over  every  portion  of  the  empire.  No  doubt,  so 
 great  an  establishment  cannot  yet  attain  that  per- 
 fection which  results  only  from  lime  and  expe- 
 rience, this  mistress  of  the  world  to  whom  every 
 tiling  must  yield ;  but  in  awaiting  those  modi- 
 fications, which  time  shall  produce  and  expe- 
 rience command,  how  many  salutary  effects  have 
 we  not  a  right  to  promise  ourselves?  Who  would 
 not  hope,  that,  under  masters  and  rulers,  marked 
 out  by  their  talents  and  virtues  for  public  and 
 private  confidence,  every  thing  will  turn  to  the 
 profit  of  morals  and  of  science  ;  that  the  direc- 
 tors of  the  pupils  will  be  at  the  same  time  their 
 models ;  that,  in  approaching  nearer  and  nearer 
 to  the  ancient  spirit,  they  shall  acquire  a  new 
 degree  of  consideration ;  that  morality,  sheltered 
 from  every  attack,  shall  not  vary  according  to 
 the  caprice  of  opinion ;  and  that,  unity  of  pi'in- 
 
(  24.  ) 
 
 ciple  corresponding  with  unity  ol"  power,  there 
 shall  reign  one  great  harmony  in  education  as 
 well  as  in  government,  in  morals  as  well  as  in 
 politics. 
 
 But  how  much  should  not  our  hopes  be  ani- 
 mated, when  we  behold  established,  as  one  of 
 the  great  bases  of  education,  the  Catholic  Reli- 
 gion— the  religion  of  our  ancestors — religion, 
 which  founded  the  monarchy  of  the  Franks,  and 
 conquered  the  barbarians  who  had  conquered 
 us ;  and  to  which  we  owe  those  great  lights  and 
 those  great  virtues,  and  those  proud  institutions 
 and  those  numberless  establishments,which  have 
 placed  us  in  the  first  rank  amongst  the  nations 
 of  the  world.  We  shall  then  no  longer  behold 
 amongst  us  this  vague  and  undetermined  wor- 
 ship, which,  by  rendering  every  dogma  mat- 
 ter of  opinion,  rendered  thereby  every  duty  a 
 problem;  nor  this  empty  Jiaturalism ,  with  wliich 
 no  civilized  people  could  ever  content  itself ; 
 nor  this  hypocritical  deism,  which  at  bottom  is 
 but  a  disguised  or  practical  atheism;  nor  yet  this 
 pretended  religion  of  honest  folk,  which  bears 
 on  nothing,  and  can  never  have  any  hold  on  man, 
 as  each  understands  it  as  it  suits  his  fancy  or  his 
 pleasure.  We  shall  behold  amongst  us  the  ca- 
 tholic religion  only,  such  as  our  fathers  bequeath- 
 ed it  us  —  religion  inscribed  on  all  our  monu- 
 
(  2'>  ) 
 
 ments,  allied  to  every  page  of  our  hislory,  and  so 
 adapted  to  our;^overnment  and  to  our  character, 
 that  to  change  it  were  to  change  the  spirit  of  the 
 nation;  the  catholic  religion  with  all  its  precepts 
 and  all  its  creed,  because  the  one  is  inseparable 
 from  the  other;  because  if  man  has  need  of 
 precepts  to  direct  and  sanctify  his  heart,  he 
 equally  wants  a  creed  to  captivate  his  intelli- 
 gence and  define  the  limits  of  its  dominion;  be- 
 cause  a  religion  without  dogma  would  be  an 
 empty  shadow,  a  sad  plaything  of  our  opinions 
 and  our  fancies;  and  because,  if  a  creed  with- 
 out precepts  could  be  of  service  to  none,  pre- 
 cepts without  a  creed  would  want  the  sanction 
 which  consecrates  them,  and  the  authority  from 
 which  they  derive  their  strength. 
 
 How  consoling  is  it  not  then  for  us.  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  to  begin  our  Apostleship 
 amongst  you  under  such  happy  auspices  ?  How 
 much  we  love  to  think  that  we  shall  find  in  the 
 instructors  themselves  worthy  co-operators,  and 
 that  {diF  from  veerinf^  to  every  -wind  of  doctrine  j 
 they  shall  make  it  a  duty  to  profess  one  creed 
 with  us.  Yes,  it  is  encouraging  to  know,  that 
 the  masters,  who,  instead  of  this  august  religion, 
 eternal  bulwark  of  our  happiness  and  our  glory, 
 should  dare  to  inculcate  impious  maxims  or 
 strange   opinions,  would   deceive    at  once  the 
 
( 2r, ) 
 
 wishes  of  llie  monarch  and  the  hopes  of  the 
 nation,  and  would  thereby  render  themselves 
 equally  reprehensible  before  the  law  and  before 
 their  God. 
 
 Happy  then  our  dear  country,  if  she  remain 
 for  ever  faithful  to  this  august  alliance  of  religion 
 and  letters,  of  divine  and  human  sciences !  Happy 
 the  government  that  shall  be  penetrated  with 
 this  great  truth,  that  the  surest  medium  of  ren- 
 dering itself  respectable,  is  first  to  render  reli- 
 gion respected ;  that  the  majesty  of  worship  suits 
 the  dignity  of  a  great  people ;  that  a  nation 
 never  attains  immortality  but  by  lasting  institu- 
 tions, and  that  no  other  institutions  can  triumpli 
 over  the  ravages  of  time,  but  those  which  have 
 religion  for  their  basis,  and  on  which  she  im- 
 presses the  divine  seal  of  her  immortal  vigour. 
 Happy  the  monarch  who  is  grounded  in  this  con  - 
 viclion,  that  if  strength  or  genius  founds  an  em- 
 pire, religion  only  can  consolidate  and  preserve 
 it;  that  she  will  pay  him  back  in  an  hundred 
 fold  all  the  services  she  shall  have  received  at 
 his  hands;  and  that,  in  a  word,  it  is  much  less 
 the  sovereign  that  protects  religion,  than  reli- 
 gion that  protects  the  sovereign. 
 
 Another  proof,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 that  the  existence  of  religion  is  not  to  be  left  in  a 
 precarious  stale,  and  that  she  is  already  looked 
 
(27) 
 
 upon  as  the  first  element  of  social  order  and  the 
 kej-stone  of  the  political  edifice,  is  the  conse- 
 crated independence  of  pastoral  instruction,  the 
 regeneration  of  those  ancient  faculties,  where  the 
 sacred  sciences  were  cultivated  in  a  more  parti- 
 cular manner;  the  authorization  of  those  schools 
 of  Christian  doctrine,  fundamental  institutions 
 which  no  others  can  supply,  and  which  might 
 supply  all  others;  the  solemn  approbation  of 
 those  pious  institutors,  who  in  their  sublime  igno- 
 rance learn  all  and  know  all,  because  they  emi- 
 nently possess  the  sovereign  art  of  teaching  the 
 people  what  the  people  can  learn  and  ought  to 
 know — the  love  of  God,  the  loveof  the  neighbour, 
 the  love  of  parents,  and  the  love  of  the  sove- 
 reign. Admirable  compendium  of  morality,  in- 
 finitely more  precious  than  all  the  science  of  the 
 world,  compared  to  which  are  as  nothing  all  the 
 pompous  documents  of  human  wisdom. 
 
 It  is  then  the  exclusive  glory  of  the  Christian 
 religion  to  have  founded  those  popular  institu- 
 tions so  well  adapted  to  the  weakness  of  child- 
 ren, to  the  intelligence  of  the  simple,  and  the 
 necessities  of  the  multitude.  Suffer  the  little 
 ones  to  came  unto  me,  says  Jesus  Christ,  and  He 
 is  the  only  moralist  that  has  thus  spoken.  Mag- 
 nificent expression,  which  cannot  be  loo  much 
 meditated,    and   which    paints   with    a    single 
 
(28) 
 
 stroke  of  the  pencil  all  the  beauty  and  all  the 
 divinity  of  the  Gospel.  Such  is  not  the  language 
 of  proud  and  disdainful  philosophy.  She  says, 
 on  the  contrary :  Remove  from  me  the  litle  ones, 
 who  are  not  worthy  to  hear  me.  Suffer  to  come 
 to  me  the  learned,  the  essayist,  the  curious,  the 
 thinkers,  those  rare  and  transcendent  spirits  that 
 wish  to  know  and  scrutinize  every  thing.  I  will 
 admit  nothing  feeble,  little,  ignorant,  or  vulg^ar; 
 and  thereby  she  betrays  and  dishonours  herself, 
 hj  excluding  almost  the  generality  of  mankind, 
 destined  by  their  condition  to  labour  and  igno- 
 rance. And  beside,  what  could  she  teach  them? 
 AVould  she  confine  herself  to  speak  to  them  of 
 obedience  to  the  laws,  of  I  know  not  what  sys- 
 tem of  moral  feeling-,  of  the  necessity  of  harmo- 
 nising with  their  fellow-beings P  Would  she 
 pretend  to  encourage  them  by  the  empty  shade 
 of  ideal  beautj,  by  the  stimulus  of  honour,  of 
 self-love,  of  opinion,  of  human  esteem?  And  of 
 whatservice  this  vain  display  of  cold  abstractions 
 to  the  rude  and  unpolished  multitude,  created 
 rather  for  action  than  meditation,  still  less  for 
 science  than  belief?  What  profit  could  they 
 draw  from  this  nebulous  morality,  as  void  of 
 charms  as  of  authority,  as  hollow  and  empty  for 
 the  heart  as  unintelligible  for]  the  mind?  Of 
 what  utility  to  little  ones,  who  should  only  know 
 
(  29  ) 
 
 to  love,  fear  and  obey,  ibis  compUcated  doctrine 
 founded  merely  on  discussion?  Would  tbej 
 make  tbem  practise  it,  before  tbey  comprehend 
 it?  Would  they  give  them  for  guide  their  rea- 
 son, before  their  reason,  the  most  tardy  of  their 
 faculties,  were  formed? 
 
 And  now  may  we  ask  with  a  Prophet,  where 
 are  those  presumptuous  sages,  so  proud  of  their 
 false  lights,  whose  systems,  as  devoid  of  unction 
 as  of  perspicuity,  are  rather  calculated  to  dry 
 up  the  heart  than  to  nourish  it.  JJbi  est  littera- 
 tus  P  Where  are  those  men  who  place  all  mora- 
 lity in  questions,  all  precepts  in  words,  and  who, 
 taking  their  difficulties  for  discoveries,  imagine 
 they  enlarge  the  limits  of  the  human  mind 
 because  they  embarrass  it.  Ubi  est  legis  verba 
 ponderans?  Where  are  all  those  doctors  who 
 boast  to  be  guides  of  youth,  and  who  make  on 
 children  and  little  ones  the  essay  of  their  sub- 
 tleties and  their  wit.  Ubi  est  doctor  parvulorum  ? 
 A  race,  continues  Isaias,  that  only  seeks  to  distin- 
 guish itself  by  the  loftiness  of  its  language,  the 
 turgid  and  gorgeous  pomp  of  its  discourses 
 and  maxims,  populum  alti  sermonis :  race  of 
 essayists,  who  think  themselves  profound  because 
 they  are  obscure,  who  make  of  all  the  duties  of 
 man  but  one  long  and  intricate  enigma,  and  pos- 
 sess every  talent,  save  that  of  making  themselves 
 
( ;» ) 
 
 underslood:  ilautnon  possis  inLelligere  disser- 
 titudinem  linguce  ejus.  (1) 
 
 Jesus  Christ  alone  had  a  right  to  call  little  ones 
 to  his  school,  that  is  to  say,  the  weak  and  vulgar, 
 because  he  alone  knew  how  to  render  morality 
 sensible,  and  to  adapt  it  to  all  ages  and  condi- 
 tions ;  because  He  alone  united  precept  and 
 example ;  because  no  other  but  His  divine  doc- 
 trines can  be  learned  without  effort,  can  precede 
 the  progress  of  reason,  can  leave  in  the  heart 
 profound  and  lasting  impressions;  because  He 
 alone  knew  how  to  substitute  sentiment  to  dis- 
 cussion, authority  to  science,  faith  to  examina- 
 tion, the  imposing  lessons  of  the  master,  who 
 commands,  to  the  timid  and  tardy  instructions  of 
 nature,  which,  at  best,  can  only  warn  or  advise. 
 
 And  hence  it  is,  that  we  find  this  divine  doctor 
 always  addressing  himself  to  the  multitude,  di- 
 cehat  ad  omnes,  dicehat  ad  turhas,  because  He 
 was  sure  to  make  himself  understood  by  every 
 one  that  had  ears  to  heaj\  Hence  it  is,  that  the 
 Prophet  feels  himself  more  enlightened  and  in- 
 structed than  the  old,  because  he  has  compre- 
 hended the  law  of  his  God.  (2)  Hence,  one  of 
 the  grandest  eulogies  God  receives  in  the  Holy 
 Scriptures,  is  that  he  unlocks  the  lips  oichildreuy 
 
 \X)  Isai.  XXXIII,  18,  19.         (2)  Ps.  CXVIII,  100. 
 
(  31  ) 
 
 and  renders  them  eloquent.  (1)  And  what  means 
 this  word  eloquent  P  It  means  that  one  word  of 
 the  Gospel  renders  them,  on  the  first  hearing, 
 more  learned  in  morality,  and  instructs  them  iji- 
 comparably  J3etter  than  the  whole  collected 
 works  of  moralists  and  writers;  it  means,  that  a 
 child,  by  learning  his  catechism,  by  lisping  the 
 name  of  God,  by  penetrating  himself  with  his 
 love  and  his  fear,  is  more  deeply  initiated  into 
 moral  science,  more  solidly  instructed  in  llie 
 nature  of  his  duties,  farther  advanced  in  the  art 
 of  a  virtuous  life,  and  has  infinitely  greater  taste 
 for  virtue,  than  the  most  famous  philosophers 
 could  ever  inspire  him,  with  all  their  specious' 
 theories,  all  their  reasoned  motives,  and  all  their 
 learned  dissertations. 
 
 How^  admirable  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, this  grand  and  magnificent  law,  this  wo/v/, 
 as  precise  as  it  is   productive,    which  sheds  as 
 
 much  li"ht  on  the  mind  as  it  infuses  virtues  into 
 
 o 
 
 the  soul,  at  once  the  admiration  of  genius  and  the 
 charm  of  purity  and  innocence,  superior  to  the 
 most  towering  spirits  by  its  sublimity,  within  the 
 reach  of  the  humblest  intelligence  by  its  simpli- 
 city, so  elevated  we  cannot  too  mucli  meditate 
 it,  so  popular  we  cannot  fail  to  comprehend  it; 
 and  which,  by  a  privilege  peculiar  to  itself,  the 
 (1)  Sap.  X,  21. 
 
(  32) 
 
 learned  never  cease  to  explore  but  do  not  ex- 
 haust it,  and  the  ignorant  never  explore  but  never 
 fail  to  comprehend. 
 
 You  will  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 send  jour  children  to  those  Christian  schools  to 
 be  there  nourished  with  the  life-giving  milk  of 
 this  celestial  law.  It  is  their  interest,  it  is  jours  ; 
 the  only  means  of  saving  the  rising  generation 
 from  the  degradation  with  which  it  is  menaced. 
 There,  thej  cannot  but  gain  both  for  their  in- 
 struction and  their  innocence.  There,  thej  will 
 learn  to  be  happjin  the  accomplisliment  of  their 
 duties,  in  their  respect  and  their  obedience. 
 There,  instead  of  those  insipid  and  puerile  fables, 
 in  which  the  heart  has  no  part,  thej  shall  be  taugh  t 
 to  taste  those  touching  parables,  sealed  with 
 the  grandeur  and  the  goodness  of  Heaven;  and 
 if,  in  the  age  of  the  passions,  they  should  happen 
 to  straj,  thej  will  find  within  themselves,  in  the 
 calm  of  maturer  jears,  those  happy  seeds,  those 
 first  impressions  of  virtue,  which  shall  have  rather 
 been  forgotten  than  stifled,  rather  chilled  than 
 forgotten. 
 
 Wherever,  OurDearly  Beloved  Brethren,  those 
 schools  have  been  established,  a  total  change  has 
 been  remarked  in  the  children  of  the  lower 
 classes.  We  call  aloud  on  the  pastors,  magis- 
 trates, fathers  of  families,  and  all  men  of  worth, 
 
(  33  ) 
 
 to  attest  it.  Witnesses  of  this  happy  revolution, 
 they  vie  with  each  other  in  gratitude  towards  the 
 virtuous  institutors  who  have  efFected  it;  whilst, 
 on  the  contrary,  those  worldly  schools,  whence 
 religion  is  banished,  where  at  most  she  is  tole- 
 rated, are  become  the  repair  of  licentiousness 
 and  depravity ;  where  are  lost  in  one  sad  wreck 
 the  morals  of  the  first  age,  and  the  hopes  of  fa- 
 mily and  country.  Such,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  are  the  incontrovertible  facts,  such  the 
 irresistible  and  universal  experience  we  shall 
 continually  oppose  to  all  those  contemners  of 
 ancient  traditions,  who  insolently  impeach  the 
 reason  of  so  many  centuries ;  to  all  those  men 
 of  paradoxes,  who  proudly  stile  themselves  the 
 preceptors  of  the  human  race,  and  who  never 
 have  been  able  to  succeed  in  correcting  a  single 
 child;  to  all  those  men,  in  themselves  incorri- 
 gible, whom  so  many  idle  essays  could  not  dis- 
 abuse of  their  error;  or  rather  this  is  the  expe- 
 rience that  will  disabuse  them,  that  will  enlighten 
 them,  that  will  reconcile  them  to  a  Religion  so 
 eminently  philosophical,  as  she  rejects  only  the 
 errors  of  philosophy ;  experience,  which  will 
 shortly  bring  round  the  happy  day,  in  which,  far 
 from  struggling  against  religion,  we  shall  behold 
 lliem  uniting  their  efTorls  with  our  cfTorts,  their 
 
 c 
 
(  34  ) 
 
 Jabours  with  our  zeal,  in  order  lo  prodiide  in 
 concert  the  common  good,  and  lo  prove  at  last 
 what  the  united  liglils  of  genius  and  the  virtues 
 of  religion  can  do  for  the  Iiappiness  of  mankind. 
 What  was  our  joy.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, when  we  heard  that  in  general  the  schools 
 of  our  diocess  really  merited  the  name  of  Chris- 
 tian ;  that  they  were  directed  by  wise  administra- 
 tors animated  by  the  spirit  of  ancient  principles, 
 virtuous  ecclesiastics,  who  honour  their  state  by 
 the  purity  of  their  morals  and  the  integrity  of 
 their  doctrine.  With  what  consolation  we  be- 
 hold the  augmentation  of  those  precious  esta- 
 blishments, those  pious  associations,  whose  first 
 vow  is  to  be  useful:,  whose  first  recompense  is 
 still  to  be  useful;  where  consecrated  virgins,  of 
 whom  the  woT'/d  is  not  wotthj-,  and  whom  the 
 world  can  never  replace,  devote  themselves  to 
 education  with  as  much  disinterestedness  as  zeal. 
 Models  of  modesty,  decorum,  economy,  and 
 labour ;  respected  by  their  pupils,  because  they 
 merit  it,  they  seem  rather  to  inspire  than  teach 
 virtue.  May  those  retreats  of  innocence  still 
 more  augment  and  nmltiply  !  May  they  prosper 
 under  the  wings  of  a  tutelary  government,  and 
 enjoy  its  protection  as  it  enjoys  their  services ! 
 May  the  wish  we  here  form  for  them  be  a  solemn 
 
(35) 
 
 pledge  of  the  truly  paternal  interest  we  bear 
 them,  and  of  our  resolution  to  share  their  solici- 
 tude as  they  share  our  veneration  and  esteem. 
 
 We  regret,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  that 
 the  limits  of  this  Instruction  do  not  permit  us  to 
 develop  so  interesting  a  subject,  for  we  owe  you 
 all  useful  truths  in  the  order  of  your  salvation; 
 and  what  truths  more  useful  and  more  salutary 
 than  those  which  regard  public  education,  on 
 which  depends  the  happiness,  not  only  of  the 
 present,  but  of  future  generations.  Many  of 
 those  truths,  perhaps,  will  appear  harsh  to  a  pro- 
 fane world  which  loves  to  be  flattered;  but  woe 
 to  us,  if  we  should  seek  to  please  men  at  the  ex- 
 pense of  truth,  and  if  we  should  retain  instruc- 
 tion in  the  daj  of  saUmtion.  (1)  Woe  to  us,  if 
 we  do  not  announce  the  Gospel  j  (2)  and  what  is 
 the  Gospel,  if  it  be  not  truth?  What  is  our 
 fairest  title,  if  it  be  not  that  of  guardian  and  sen- 
 tinel of  truth?  (3)  What  is  a  Bishop,  if  he  be 
 not  the  corrector  of  vices,  as  the  magistrate  is 
 the  avenger  of  crimes?  Why  have  we  been 
 honoured  with  the  confidence  of  the  sovereign, 
 if  it  be  not  to  render  happy  and  virtuous  by  in- 
 struction, the  people  he  governs  by  his  laws  and 
 defends  with  his  sword?    And  of  what  service 
 
 (1)  Eccl.  IV,  28.    (2)  Cor.  IX,  IG.    (3)  EzecJi.  XXXIlf,  7. 
 
(  3G  ) 
 
 could  our  niinislry  be,  if  we  should  slumber^ 
 ■when  every  thing  around  us  awakens  our  solici- 
 tude, and  if,  instead  of  announcing  his  crimes  to 
 Israel,  and  to  Jacob  his  iniquities,  (1 )  as  God  com- 
 mands, we  should  become  by  a  coward  silence 
 his  accomplices  and  abettors?  What !  we  shall 
 have  preached  the  truth  during  more  than  thirty 
 years  in  the  capital,  we  shall  have  rendered  tes- 
 timony in  the  presence  of  kings  without  having 
 been  confounded,  (2)  and  now,  after  having  re- 
 ceived a  more  explicit  mission,  and  a  more  espe- 
 cial consecration  to  announce  it,  we  should 
 begin  to  retain  it  in  'captivity !  We  shall  have 
 shewn  a  certain  courage  at  a  time,  when  the 
 world  miglit  seduce  us  by  its  vanities,  life  by  its 
 illusions,  and  fortune  by  its  hopes,  and  we  should 
 want  courage  in  the  decline  of  years,  and  we 
 should  seek  to  flatter  the  age,  to  disguise  truth 
 by  perfidious  expedients,  now  that  the  eternal 
 jears  are  advancing;  and  that,  in  the  midst  of 
 all  those  great  events,  whose  rapid  succession 
 seems  to  hasten  the  pace  of  time,  every  thing  tells 
 us  so  eloquently,  that  the  figure  oj  this  world 
 passeth  awaj,  and  that  we  must  place  in  higher 
 ground  our  heart  and  our  hopesi  We  will  then  an- 
 nounce the  truth,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 
 (1)  Mich.  HI,  8.  (2)  Ps.  CXVIII,  A6. 
 
(37  ) 
 
 whenever  llie  honour  of  our  ministry  and  the 
 good  of  your  souls  shall  demand  it.  We  shall 
 announce  it  to  the  world,  precisely  because  the 
 world  hates  it,  and  will  not  hear  it,  and  only 
 seeks  to  weaken  and  dimmish  it;  (1)  because  a 
 silent  conspiracy  is  forming  to  retain  it  captive  in 
 injustice.  (2)  We  shall  announce  it,  because  we 
 love  the  state,  because  we  love  our  brethren, 
 and  because  truth  alone  can  do  good  to  men;  in 
 shorty  we  shall  announce  the  truth,  because  truth 
 is  the  first  necessity  of  the  flock  and  the  first 
 duty  of  the  shepherd ;  and  because,  if  it  should 
 ever  be  lost  on  earth,  it  should  be  found  in  the 
 mouth  of  a  Bishop.  Happy,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  if  we  could  thus  render  our  last  efforts 
 useful  to  you,  and  if,  supported  by  grace  from 
 above,  we  may  reserve  for  the  faithful  confided 
 to  us  the  frail  and  feeble  remains  of  our  exist- 
 ence ! 
 
 But  in  announcing  truth,  we  shall  not  forget 
 charitj,  (3)  this  sublime  virtue,  to  which  all  others 
 are  so  allied,  that  without  it  religion  would  have 
 nothing  to  teach  us.  In  loving  truth,  we  shall 
 also  love  peace,  i^k)  Such  was  the  two-fold  spirit 
 of  Elias — such  the  spirit  of  the  evangelical  mi- 
 
 (1)  Ps.  XI,  2.  (2)  Rom.  I,  18.  . 
 
 (3)  Eph.  IV,  15.  (A)  Zach.  VIII,  19. 
 
(  38  ) 
 
 nistrj.  We  know  that  our  principal  lalent  should 
 consist  in  persuasion,  our  real  strength  in  our 
 prayers,  our  first  authority  in  our  examples,  and 
 our  arms  in  our  patience.  W  e  know,  that  if 
 truth  enhghtens  the  mind,  charity  gains  the  heart; 
 and  that  if  the  one  has  certain  rights,  against 
 which  nothing  can  prescribe,  the  other  has  cap- 
 tivating charms  which  nothino-  can  resist.  ^^  e 
 shall  recollect  with  the  \yise  man,  that  it  is  only 
 from  the  union  of  goodness  and  of  truth  that  all 
 hinds  of  goodness  can  result  y  (1 )  and  we  shall  un- 
 ceasin2"lv  have  before  our  eyes  the  beautiful  ex- 
 pression  of  the  Apostle,  that  though  we  should 
 speak  with  the  tongue  of  angels,  (2)  truth  with- 
 out charity  would  be  in  our  mouth  an  empty 
 sound,  as  useless  to  him  who  pronounces  as  to 
 him  that  hears  it. 
 
 You  will  assist  us,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Co- 
 operators,  in  this  sublime  ministry,  happy  mix- 
 lure  of  firmness  that  makes  truth  respected,  and 
 of  charity  which  makes  it  beloved.  3Iinisters  of 
 God,  you  will  be  his  imitators  in  doing  good  \\-ith 
 as  much  meekness  as  strength.  1  ou  will  rather 
 seek  to  touch  sinners  than  to  confound  tbem. 
 You  will  gain  the  heart  to  yirtue  by  preaching 
 not  only-  whatever  is  just  andholj,  but  also  what- 
 
 (1)  ProY.  XIY,  22.  (2)  I.  Cor.  XIII,  1. 
 
(  30  ) 
 
 Ci'er  IS  amiable.  (1)  lou  will  unite  zeal  with  pru- 
 dence, lou  will  be  wise  with  sobriety,  (2)  for 
 virtue  is  never  found  in  extremes.  Lnited  with 
 your  Head,  hy  the  bonds  of  the  same  faith,  the 
 same  sentiments,  the  same  confidence,  jou  will 
 form  around  us,  according-  to  the  expression  of 
 the  Holy  Ghost,  a  crown  of  brethren.  (3)  But  es- 
 pecially you  will  honour  your  ministrj-,  like  St. 
 Paul,  hj  a  noble  disinterestedness.    (4) 
 
 loQ  will  know  how  to  be  poor  with  diornitv. 
 You  will  prove  to  the  world  that  it  is  easier  to 
 humble  than  degrade  you.  The  less  the  world 
 shall  do  for  your  entertainment  and  subsistence, 
 the  greater  should  your  efforts  be  for  its  happi- 
 ness and  salvation.  The  more  scanty  the  means 
 the  world  shall  afford  you  to  do  charity,  the  more 
 ardent  should  you  be  to  inspire  charity  to  others, 
 and  thus  you  will  teach  the  world  that  a  Alinister 
 of  Christ  Jesus  possesses  I  know  not  what  eleva- 
 tion of  soul,  what  opulence  of  virtue,  that  makes 
 him  forget  his  own  necessities  to  sympathizemore 
 freely  and  more  feelin^lv  with  his  afflicted  bre- 
 thren.  Thereby,  shall  vou  command  the  esteem 
 of  our  enemies,  and  thev  shall  feel,  in  despite  of 
 their  prejudices,  that  you  still  have  a  noble  fiinc- 
 
 (1)  Phil.  IV,  8.  (2)  Rom.  XII,  o. 
 
 (3)  Eccl.  L.  1-3.  (i)  Rom.  XI.  13. 
 
(  40  ) 
 
 tion  on  earlh,  that  oC  rendering  men  happy  at 
 the  risk  of  proving  them  ungrateful ;  of  being 
 the  last  of  all  bj  the  slenderness  of  your  recom- 
 penses, and  the  first  of  all  by  your  utility  and  the 
 happy  influence  of  your  instructions.  And  thus, 
 even  in  the  order  of  Providence,  the  indiiFerence 
 of  the  flock  will  turn  to  the  glory  of  the  shep- 
 herd, and  the  injustice  of  worldlings  towards  the 
 sacred  ministers,  to  the  triumph  of  the  sacred 
 ministry  itself. 
 
 Given  at  Paris,  under  the  seal  of  our  arms,  our 
 sign,  and  the  countersign  of  our  Secretary, 
 the  20th  March,  1809. 
 
 "I"  Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes, 
 
 By  Order, 
 MiGNEAux,  Secretary. 
 
(41   ) 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTION 
 
 Addressed  to  the  Clergy  and  Faithful  of  his  Diocess, 
 on  the  occaslofi  of  Lent  and  of  his  Seminary, 
 
 We  had  proposed  to  ourselves,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  to  give,  this  year,  a  detailed 
 instruction  on  the  duties  imposed  on  us  by  the 
 holy  time  of  penance  which  approaches;  but  the 
 affairs  of  our  diocess,  and  other  important  mo- 
 tives, having  called  us  to  the  Capital,  we  have  not 
 been  able  to  execute  our  plan,  and  follow  in  this 
 respect  the  impulse  of  our  solicitude.  We  have 
 then  judged  proper  to  confine  ourselves  to  some 
 advices,  addressed  principally  to  our  beloved  co- 
 operators,  recommending  to  them  to  develop 
 them,  to  supply  by  their  instructions  what  may 
 be  wanting  in  ours,  and  to  inculcate  to  the  faith- 
 ful confided  to  their  care,  what  time  does  not 
 permit  us  to  say  to  them.     We  have  the  firm 
 
(42  ) 
 
 confidence  that  they  will  redouble  their  zeal  on 
 this  occasion,  in  order  to  recall  to  their  parishioners 
 the  essential  obligations  of  the  law  of  abstinence ; 
 to  make  them  feel  how  much  its  infraction  is 
 scandalous  in  those  who  exempt  themselves  from 
 it  without  lawful  motives,  and  without  having 
 recourse  to  the  authority  of  their  Pastors.  How 
 culpable  is  the  negligence  of  so  many  Christians, 
 unworthy  of  the  name,  who  imagine  so  many 
 false  wants,  and  so  many  false  pretexts,  and  who, 
 taking  advantage  of  the  decline  of  morals,  and 
 the  relaxation  of  the  times,  think  themselves 
 secure  because  they  follow  the  torrent,  tran- 
 quillize themselves  on  the  multitude  of  the  re- 
 fractory, and  look  upon  themselves  as  enfran- 
 chised from  the  law  because  they  despise  it. 
 
 However,  this  law  of  Lent,  so  respectable  and 
 so  ancient,  is  subject,  like  others,  to  exceptions, 
 rendered  necessary  by  circumstances  to  which 
 the  first  Pastors  should  attend,  according  to  the 
 rules  of  charity  and  prudence.  Our  wise  and 
 virtuous  predecessor  has  here  given  us  the  ex- 
 ample, and  we  think  we  ought  to  follow  it  this 
 year,  considering  the  rigour  of  the  season,  and 
 the  excessive  dearth  of  provisions,  and  particular- 
 ly of  those  necessary  for  the  observation  of  Lent; 
 and  consequently  we  permit,  but  without  estab- 
 
(  43  ) 
 
 lishing  any  precedent  for  future  times,  the  use  of 
 meat  during  certain  days  of  the  week. 
 
 But  in  using-  this  condescension,  Our  Dearly 
 Belpved  Brethren,  you  should  never  forget,  that, 
 if  there  be  lawful  motives  for  dispensing  with  the 
 law  of  abstinence,  there  never  are  any  with  re- 
 gard to  the  law  of  penance;  that  the  time  of 
 Lent  is  always  and  essentially  a  lime  of  expiation, 
 of  mortification  and  of  reconciliation,  without 
 any  exception  of  persons;  that  the  more  the 
 church  is  indulgent^  the  more  should  you  multi- 
 ply your  prayers,  your  alms,  your  good  works, 
 and  ransom  those  alleviations,  granted  in  favour 
 of  the  body,  by  the  sacrifice  of  self-love,  cupi- 
 dity, and  all  the  other  passions  which  bewilder 
 the  mind,  corrupt  the  heart,  and  give  death  to 
 the  soul. 
 
 We  feel  it  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 a  most  sacred  duty  to  profit  of  the  holy  career  in 
 which  we  enter,  to  recommend  most  particularly 
 to  your  pious  generosity  our  Seminary,  this  good 
 work  by  excellence,  to  which  all  the  others 
 should  be  subordinate,  on  which  depends  the 
 whole  success  of  our  ministry,  and  without  which 
 we  could  never  promise  ourselves  any  solid  and 
 durable  advantage.  We  are  so  much  the  more 
 authorized  to  do  so,  as  the  alms  and  donations  of 
 the  faithful  are  diminishing  every  day,  our  Semi- 
 
( « ) 
 
 nary  is  reduced  lo  its  fixed  and  annual  resources," 
 which  can  never  suffice  for  its  entertainment  and 
 existence.  Since  many  years,  no  appeal  has  been 
 made  for  this  purpose  to  the  public  charity;  no 
 collection  has  been  ordered — no  charity-box  has 
 been  placed  in  our  churches ;  and  whilst  they  are 
 all  destined,  as  well  as  the  collections,  for  the 
 public  worship,  and  the  various  wants  of  the  in- 
 digent, the  Seminary  is  almost  cou  nted  as  nothing, 
 and  remains  abandoned,  like  a  stranger  in  the 
 diocess  and  the  church,  as  if  this  sacred  school 
 were' not  the  first  of  the  poor — as  if  it  were  not 
 the  basis  of  all,  and  the  foundation  on  which 
 repose  the  preservation  and  the  perpetuity  of 
 divine  worship;  as  if,  before  we  should  think  of 
 decorating  the  sanctuary,  it  did  not  first  behove 
 us  to  know  if  there  shall  be  ministers  to  serve 
 there,  to  announce  the  oracles  of  salvation,  and 
 offer  up  the  Holy  of  Holies. 
 
 Still,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  notwith- 
 standing this  abatement  of  charity,  this  progres- 
 sive diminution  of  our  means,  we  have  this  year, 
 trusting  to  Divine  Providence,  augmented  its 
 number  by  twelve  new  subjects.  We  have 
 nearly  ninety  in  our  episcopal  house,  educated 
 under  our  eyes,  like  children  around  their  father. 
 
 These  youths  console  us  by  their  happy  dis- 
 positions, the  mildness  of  ihcir  manners,  and  the 
 
(45  ) 
 
 progress  thej  make  in  studj  and  in  piety.  They 
 are  the  edification  of  our  episcopal  city,  by  their 
 modesty  and  recollection.  Such  of  ihem  as  go 
 to  the  college  to  pursue  their  studies,  are,  we 
 can  affirm  it  without  fear  of  contradiction,  its 
 fairest  ornaments,  by  entertaining  therein  that 
 love  of  labour,  and  that  happy  emulation,  to 
 which  this  establishment  principally  owes  the 
 reputation  it  enjoys,  and  the  confidence  it  has 
 acquired.  It  would  seem  that  Divine  Providence 
 is  pleased  to  compensate  our  pains,  and  this 
 species  of  abandonment  in  which  the  faithful 
 leave  the  Seminary,  by  shedding  on  it  all  the  gifts 
 of  grace^  and  its  most  chosen  blessings. 
 
 Persuaded  as  we  are,  that  we  should  render  our 
 Seminary  as  useful  as  possible,  we  have  chosen 
 several  candidates  to  place  them  in  the  princi- 
 pal colleges  of  our  diocess,  where  they  were  de- 
 manded with  the  most  lively  instances,  and  where 
 they  appeared  to  us  necessary  to  superintend  and 
 ensure  the  maintenance  of  sound  doctrine  and 
 good  morals;  so  that,  by  aiding  our  Seminary, 
 you  contribute  not  only  to  ecclesiastical,  but  also 
 to  public  and  national  education, — to  the  edu- 
 cation of  your  children,  for  whatever  state  of 
 life  you  may  destine  them, — to  the  education  of 
 all  those  who  are  to  be  one  day  the  heads  of 
 families,  the  support  of  the  state  and  of  their 
 
(40) 
 
 country-  Besides  those  young  men  who  remain 
 with  us,  nearly  forty  are  distributed  in  different 
 schools,  and  await  the  moment  in  which  we  can 
 re-unite  them  in  one  common  dwelling.  This 
 number  is  no  doubt  very  great,  considering  the 
 mediocrity  of  our  resources.  But  what  is  it,  if 
 we  reflect,  that  in  the  diocess  there  are  more 
 than  three  hundred  parishes  without  pastors,  and 
 that  the  rest  are,  for  the  most  part,  administered 
 by  priests  infirm  and  advanced  in  years,  whose 
 courage  is  still  greater  than  their  strength,  and 
 who  will  shortly  go  to  receive  from  the  hands  of 
 their  sovereign  Judge  the  recompence  of  their 
 labours  and  their  zeal. 
 
 How  many  motives,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, without  mentioning  all  those  we  could 
 still  set  forth,  worthy  of  interesting  your  piety 
 and  benevolence  in  favour  of  a  work,  so  nearly 
 allied  to  your  most  sacred  and  dearest  obliga- 
 tions, the  only  hope  of  so  vast  a  diocess.  What 
 fairer  opportunity  can  present  itself  of  shewing 
 yourselves  generous  and  compassionate !  If 
 charity,  as  one  of  the  Fathers  says  it,  has  wings 
 to  bear  us  to  the  throne  of  the  Father  of  Mercies, 
 what  charity  more  meritorious  than  tliis,  or  more 
 capable  of  touching  the  heart  of  God,  and  draw- 
 ing down  on  you  and  your  children  all  the 
 blessings  of  heaven  and  earth? 
 
( " ) 
 
 We  have  ihen  taken  the  resolulion  of  re- 
 Jdndling  in  this  respect,  bj  every  means  our 
 ministry  ofFers  us,  the  charity  of  the  faithful ; 
 and  we  think,  that  one  of  the  most  efficacious 
 and  best  calculated  for  this  purpose  is,  to  follow 
 the  example  of  a  very  g-reat  number  of  our  ve- 
 nerable colleagues  in  the  prelacy,  who,  in  dis- 
 pensing their  diocesans  with  a  portion  of  the  law 
 of  Lent,  have  established  in  the  alms  done  to 
 their  Seminary  a  compensation  of  satisfactory 
 works  for  the  mitigation  they  find  in  such  ex- 
 emptions; compensation  most  legitimate  before 
 the  church  and  before  God; — before  the  church, 
 as  she  has  the  right  of  interpreting  and  modify- 
 ing her  own  laws, — before  God,  who  has  said 
 that  we  accomplish  all  in  accomplishing  those  of 
 charity,  in  the  order  and  manner  of  his  divine 
 will. 
 
 yVe  shall  then  begin  this  year  by  using  these 
 means,  which  Divine  Providence  presents  us,  re- 
 serving those  other  measures  we  may  hereafter 
 judge  suitable  for  this  purpose;  means  so  much 
 the  more  worthy  of  being  favourably  received  as 
 they  distress  no  one,  as  they  are  adapted  to  the 
 faculties  of  each,  and  as,  by  a  just  proportion, 
 they  associate  all  to  so  holy  and  so  excellent  a 
 work,  from  the  widow  with  her  mite  to  the  most 
 opulent  man  of  society. 
 
(  ^8  ) 
 
 (Here  follow  several  arlicles,  .which  indicate 
 the  mitigations  bis  Lordship  permits  of  the  law  of 
 abstinence,  andregulate  the  mode  of  transmitting 
 the  compensatory  alms  and  other  charitable  do- 
 nations in  favour  of  the  Diocesan  Seminary.) 
 
 Done  at  Paris,  February  the  10th,  1810. 
 
 •f  Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes. 
 
 By  Order, 
 
 Imbert,  Secretary. 
 
(49) 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTION, 
 
 On  the  occasion  of  Lent  and  of  his  Seminary. 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Boulogne,  etc. 
 
 PREVENTEDby  a  long  and  painful  indisposition, 
 Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  from  applying 
 ourselves  since  the  commencement  of  this  year, 
 to  any  continuous  occupation,  we  are  forced  to 
 confine  ourselves,  as  in  the  last  year,  to  some 
 simple  advices  relative  to  the  holy  career  on 
 which  we  enter.  How  much  we  regret  not 
 having  been  able  to  develop  more  at  large  our 
 paternal  exhortations ;  and  having  been  obliged 
 to  leave  to  the  sacred  ministers,  placed  at  the 
 head  of  our  churches,  the  care  of  amplifying  and 
 inculcating  those  great  truths  which  we  have 
 been  only  able  to  delineate.  Yes,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Co-operators,  it  is  with  the  most  lively 
 confidence  that  we  count  upon  your  zeal,  and 
 
( r>o  ) 
 
 every  thing  tells  ns  ihal  you  will  so  much  the 
 more  forcibly  inculcate  those  important  truths, 
 as  this  proud  and  indocil  age  is  less  disposed 
 to  hear  them.  And;  indeed,  how  many  things 
 will  you  not  have  to  say  to  them  on  the  neces- 
 sity of  penance,  with  which  no  one  can  dis- 
 pense himself,  without  renouncing  his  baptism 
 and  his  title  of  christian  ;  on  the  rigours  of  pe- 
 nance, of  which  the  cross  alone  of  Christ  Jesus 
 can  give  us  the  just  measure;  on  the  advantages 
 of  penance,  which,  in  mortifying  the  body, 
 elevates  and  purifies  the  soul,  and,  in  the  silence 
 of  all  the  passions,  gives  it  the  foretaste  of  those 
 divine  communications,  which  constitute  the 
 glory  and  happiness  of  the  celestial  spirits ;  on 
 the  sweets  of  penance,  which,  by  the  peace  of 
 soul  and  self-contentment,  procures  more  solid 
 satisfaction,  than  the  worldlings  could  ever  find 
 in  their  turbulent  pleasures;  on  the  true  cha- 
 racter of  penance,  which  consists  still  less  in  the 
 maceration  of  the  body  than  in  the  humiliation 
 of  the  mind  and  the  compunction  of  the  heart.  In 
 short,  on  the  dogma  of  penance,  so  well  assorted 
 to  the  wants  of  human  nature,  and  to  the  idea 
 of  God,  that  it  is  the  morality  of  the  human 
 race,  and  that  we  see  it  consecrated  by  the  be- 
 lief of  every  age,  the  spirit  of  every  creed,  and 
 the  conscience  of  every  people. 
 
(51   ) 
 
 Thereby  jou  will  confound  those  sensual 
 men,  in  whose  ejes  morlificalion  seems  an  ex- 
 travagance; penance,  the  iihision  of  weak  minds; 
 and  the  holy  law  of  Lent,  a  superannuated  and 
 unseasonable  morality;  men,  enemies  of  all 
 rule,  to  whom  those  meals  prohibited  by  the 
 law  of  abstinence  appear  more  agreeable  by 
 the  very  reason  that  they  are  prohibited,  and 
 who  seem  to  find  in  them  a  new  relish,  by  the 
 infraction  of  the  law  which  proscribes  them  ; 
 those  pretended  philosophers,  who  would  have 
 wisdom  without  efforts,  virtue  w^ithout  sacrifice, 
 repentance  without  amendment,  or  amendment 
 without  expiation,  or  satisfactory  works;  and 
 who,  with  a  morality  so  easy  and  commodious, 
 do  not  the  less  flatter  themselves  to  be  men  of 
 worth;  those  presumptuous  men,  who,  after 
 having  rendered  themselves  arbiters  of  their 
 faith,  still  wish  to  become  the  judges  of  theiaw, 
 and  interpret  it  according  to  their  caprices ; 
 who  make  of  their  obligations  as  many  problems 
 as  they  raise  discussions  and  doubts  on  the  points 
 of  faith;  and  who  imagine  themselves  free  from 
 the  yoke  of  holy  precepts,  by  the  refined  and 
 delicate  airs  they  assume,  as  they  think  them- 
 selves enfranchised  from  the  yoke  of  faith  and 
 submission,  because  they  set  up  for  suljtle  rea- 
 soners,  fine  wits,  and  able   men. 
 
(  52  ) 
 
 In  a  word,  against  this  age  enamoured  oC  no- 
 velty and  greedj  of  change,  and  wbich,  infatu- 
 ated with  its  false  lights,  pretends  to  reform 
 every  thing  but  its  own  vices,  and  to  perfect  all 
 but  its  own  morals,  you  will  constantly  oppose 
 the  holy  authority  of  antiquity  ;  you  will  recall  it 
 to  the  respect  due  to  those  venerable  traditions 
 so  much  the  more  sacred  for  us,  as  their  source 
 is  more  distant  from  us ;  you  will  preach  to  it 
 this  eternal  gospel,  (1 )  of  which  St.  John  speaks  ; 
 eternal  in  its  rigorous  maxims,  against  which  no 
 reason  of  custom,  no  reason  of  circumstances 
 can  prescribe  :  eternal  in  its  source,  for  ever 
 new,  and  in  which  we  must  for  ever  renew  oz//-- 
 5e/ve5,  (2)  according  to  the  counsel  of  the  Apostle; 
 eternal  in  itsopposition  with  our  passions,  andour 
 deceitfulpleasures,  and  our  senseless  joys;  eternal 
 enemy  of  a  world  already  judged,  (3)  and  which 
 bavin"-  no  other  law  but  fashion,  no  other  rule 
 but  opinion,  will  pass  away  like  opinion  and 
 fashion  ;  eternal,  wliiist  every  thing  perishes 
 and  crumbles  on  the  earth,  empires  and  arts,  and 
 laws,  and  the  fairest  monuments  of  genius  j  in 
 fine,  eternal  as  He  who  dictated  it,  as  this  Im- 
 mortal  King  of  Ages,   (4)   who  knows  neither 
 
 (1)  Apoo.  XIV,  C.  (2)  Eplios.  IV,  IS. 
 
 (3)  John  XVI,  11.  (A)  1.  Tim.  I,  17. 
 
(53) 
 
 the  vicissitudes  nor  the  sad  variations  of  time,' 
 and  who,  as  He  is  only  truth,  and  the  truth  it- 
 self, is  not  less  unchangeable  in  his  words  as  he 
 is  permanent  in  his  jears.  (1)  Evangeliiim 
 OEternum. 
 
 In  g-ranling  you,  last  year,  dispensation  of 
 lour  meat  days  in  each  week,  we  took  care  to 
 announce  to  you,  that  it  was  without  any  conse- 
 quence for  the  future;  and  behold,  this  year, 
 circumstances  still  more  imperious,  a  winter 
 still  more  rigorous,  a  far  greater  scarcity  and 
 dearth  of  vegetables  and  other  aliments  more 
 particularly  used  during  the  holy  quarantine, 
 call  still  more  loudly  for  the  indulgence  of  the 
 church ;  a  time  truly  calamitous,  which  neither 
 power  could  prevent  nor  policy  foresee,  and 
 which  Providence  sends  us,  in  order  to  temper 
 the  intoxication  of  prosperity,  and  to  serve  as  a 
 counterpoise  to  so  much  glory,  so  much  success, 
 and  so  many  triumphs;  to  bring  us  back  towards 
 the  God  we  are  so  much  tempted  to  forget, 
 when  every  thing  proceeds  according  to  the 
 bent  of  our  desires,  and  smiles  on  our  worldly 
 views;  to  detach  us  from  this  valley  of  tears, 
 where  every  thing  speaks  to  us  of  the  nothing- 
 ness of  life,  and  the  frailty  of  human  things ;  and 
 
 (1)   Ps.  CI,  28. 
 
(  54  ) 
 
 to  produce  williiu  us  those  serious  tlioughls,  this 
 salutary  recollecliou,  and  those  profound  rejflec- 
 tions  on  ourselves,  which  re-animate  faith  and 
 beget  salvation. 
 
 Yes,  Our  Dearlj  Beloved  Brethren,  such  are 
 the  adorable  views  of  Providence  in  the  calami- 
 ties with  which  we  are  visited.  The  impious 
 sees,  in  those  sad  circumstances,  only  the  blind 
 effects  of  the  laws  of  natm^e,  and  in  this  disorder 
 of  the  elements,  the  ordinary  march  of  things; 
 but  the  Christian  takes  a  higher  view  :  He  be- 
 holds therein  the  designs  of  God  to  purify  ihe 
 children  of  this  earth,  by  the  same  scourges 
 which  sadden  and  desolate  it.  lie  humbles 
 himself  under  the  hand  of  this  awful  Being,  who 
 creates,  according  to  the  expression  of  Isaiah, 
 good  and  evil,  peace  and  war,  abundance  and 
 scarcity  ;  who  commands  the  seasons,  draws  the 
 winds  from  his  treasures,  (1)  orders  the  clouds 
 not  to  rain,  and  of  the  tempests  and  storms 
 makes  the  ministers  of  his  will,  as  speaks  the 
 Royal  Prophet,  since  he  uses  them  as  he  pleases, 
 to  save  or  punish,  and  to  accomplish  on  the  chil- 
 dren of  men  his  dreadful  judgments.  In  a  word, 
 he  sees  in  them  the  time  of  probation,  the  time 
 of  repentance,  of  resignation  and  patience,  and 
 
 (4)  Isai.  XLV,  7. 
 
(  55  ) 
 
 thus  his  whole  study  is  to  iiiicl  in  all  calamities, 
 both  public  and  private,  a  source  of  happiness 
 for  himself. 
 
 Admirable  system  of  religion,  which  thus 
 unites  nature  and  grace,  and  only  employs  the 
 rigours  of  the  one  but  to  develop  the  wonders  of 
 the  other :  which  makes  all,  botli  <?ood  and 
 evil,  concur  to  the  perfection  of  the  Christian, 
 and,  by  making  enter  into  the  economy  of  sal- 
 vation, the  inclemency  of  the  seasons,  gives 
 to  the  transient  miseries  of  time,  consequences 
 and  impressions  that  re-echo  in  eternity. 
 
 And  yet,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  who  is 
 it  that  delights  to  meditate  on  this  magnificent 
 plan  of  eternal  wisdom?  who  reascends  to  this 
 first  cause  ?  who  is  it  that  endeavours  to  enter 
 into  those  views  of  faith,  and  to  profit,  as  a  Chris- 
 tian, of  the  scourges  and  calamities  sent  us  by 
 Heaven?  We  occupy  ourselves  with  them,  it 
 is  true,  but  just  as  we  do  with  the  daily  news, 
 vain  pastime  of  idlers  and  declaimers.  We  la- 
 ment them,  but  merely  on  account  of  the  losses 
 we  have  sustained,  and  the  attacks  our  fortune 
 may  have  experienced,  and  thus,  wholly  con- 
 centrated in  time  and  matter,  we  are  never  sen- 
 sible but  to  what  affects  our  pleasures,  our  inte- 
 rests, and  our  affairs.  It  is  the  reproach  God 
 made  formerly  to   his  people   by  the   Projiliet 
 
f  56) 
 
 Oseas:  *'  They  have  recourse  lo  me  in  iheir  ca- 
 *^  lamities:  ihej  groan  and  lament  in  their  dwel- 
 *'  lings,  and  care  only  to  procnre  corn  and  wine  : 
 **  but  their  crimes  and  the  torrent  of  iniquity, 
 "which  have  provoked  my  wrath;  but  the 
 *'  cause,  which  drew  on  them  all  these  chastise- 
 *'  ments,  are  not  for  them  objects  worthy  their 
 "  reflections  and  researches  :  far  from  receiving 
 *'  the  instructions  which  my  goodness  gives, 
 **  they  only  dream  of  shaking  off"  all  reflections, 
 **  of  withdrawing  from  Me,  and  of  disowning  the 
 "  powerful  arm  to  which  every  thing  must 
 "  bend."  (1 )  J^t  non  clamavennit  ad  me  in  corde 
 SILO  ;  sed  ululahant  in  cubilibus  suis :  super  tri~ 
 ticum  et  viniun  vuniinahant,  recesseriint  a  me. 
 We  could  not  choose,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, a  more  favourable  opportunity  of  oflering 
 those  great  truths  to  your  meditation,  than  this 
 holy  time  of  penance,  in  which  we  are  about 
 to  enter.  Penance  opens  the  eyes  of  the  soul ; 
 such  is  the  grace  attached  to  its  holy  rigours ; 
 and  as  the  animal  life  of  those  worldlings,  ido- 
 laters of  themselves,  and  plunged  in  the  mire  of 
 the  senses,  weighs  down  the  soul  and  darkens 
 Iter  most  vivid  Lights,  (2)  so  the  life  of  the  penitent 
 and  mortified  man,  all  interiour  and  disengaged 
 
 (1)  Oseas  VII,  k.  (2)  Wisd.  IX,  15,  16. 
 
(57) 
 
 from  carnal  appetites,  gives  him  the  knowledge 
 of  things  divine,  makes  him  relish  the  chaste  and 
 sublime  beauties  of  Christianity,  and  lends  him 
 wings  to  fly  more  rapidly  and  more  securely 
 towards  Him  who  is  but  spirit  and  life. 
 
 We  think  itneedless  to  warn  you.  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  as  not  one  amongst  you  could 
 mistake  it,  that  in  mitigating  the  law  of  absti- 
 nence, we  do  not  exempt  you  from  the  law  of 
 fasting;  and  that,  in  profiting  of  the  dispensations 
 granted  in  rigorous  circumstances,  you  should 
 only  become  more  exact  in  the  observation  of 
 this  inviolable  law,  and  this  sacred  practice 
 which,  as  a  holy  Father  tells  us,  is  the  death  office 
 and  the  soul  of  virtue.  (1)  To  fasting  you  will 
 then  add  prayer,  to  prayer  alms-deeds,  without 
 which  you  would  fast  in  vain,  and  your  prayers 
 would  not  mount  to  heaven  ;  for,  "'fasting,"  says 
 tlie  same  Father,  '^ cannot  produce  fruit,  if  it  be 
 ''  not  watered  by  alms.  Charity  is  to  fasting 
 "  what  the  Spring  is  to  the  earth ;  and  as  the 
 "  Spring  lends  flowers  to  the  plants  and  to  the 
 "  fields,  so  Charity  towards  the  poor  causes 
 ''  those  virtues  to  blossom  of  which  fasting  is 
 "  the  seed,  and  prepares  for  us  in  heaven  a  rich 
 "  harvest  of  glory."  (2) 
 
 (1)  Si.  Peter  Chrysol.  Serm.  8. 
 
 (2)  St.  Peter  Chrysol.  Serm.  2a. 
 
(58) 
 
 Wc  propose  lo  you  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brelliien,  an  efficacious  medium  of  reaping  this 
 glorious  harvest,  in  the  alms  you  will  give  to  our 
 Seminary  :  this  is  the  offering  we  impose  on 
 you,  as  the  supplement  of  a  part  of  your  absti- 
 nence, and  the  necessary  compensation  of  your 
 Lenten  obligations.  Those  are  the  collections 
 we  renew  this  year,  and  to  which  we  are  obliged 
 to  recur,  if  we  wish  that  a  work,  so  holy  and  so 
 happily  commenced,  should  not  perish  in  our 
 hands.  And  of  what  service.  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  to  have  already  given,  if  you  now  re- 
 fuse your  charity  ?  It  is  precisely  because  you 
 have  given,  that  you  should  continue  to  give, 
 because  the  fixed  and  annual  revenues  of  this 
 establishment  could  never  suffice ;  because,  as 
 your  first  alms  have  founded  it,  your  perse- 
 vering charities  alone  can  augment  and  consoli- 
 date it,  and  because,  in  ceasing  to  contribute  lo 
 its  entertainment,  you  would  thus  lose  the  merit 
 and  the  fruit  of  those  first  services  that  have 
 given  it  existence. 
 
 How  strangely  then  would  not  those  deceive 
 themselves,  who  would  reproach  us  with  impor- 
 tunity, and  who  should  here  ask  us  why  we 
 i^onliiiually  entertain  you  on  our  Seminary  ?  And 
 why  should  wc  cease  to  solicit  you,  as  its  wants 
 do  not  cease  to  recur?  of  what  should  we  then 
 
(59) 
 
 speak,  if  it  be  not  of  this  fimdamenlal  insliliitionj 
 on  which  depend  the  perpetuity  of  sacred  wor- 
 ship and  the  succession  of  the  priesthood  ?  What 
 object  more  worthy  our  attention  and  solicitude? 
 what  more  important  affair  in  our  Diocess,  than 
 to  follow  up,  until  we  shall  have  completed  it,  so 
 precious  an  enterprise?  Who  then,  if  not  we 
 ourselves,  shall  burn  with  the  zeal  of  the  house  of 
 God  and  the  glory  of  his  altars?  Who  shall  speak 
 of  it,  if  it  be  not  a  Bishop  fully  convinced,  that 
 where  there  is  no  Seminary  there  is  no  Bishop? 
 
 What  I  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  on  every 
 quarter  it  is  feared  that  the  parishes  shall  shortly 
 be  devoid  of  Pastors  :  we  are  assailed  incessantly 
 by  the  appeals  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  country, 
 who  call  on  us  aloud  for  Priests,  both  for  them 
 and  their  children,  and  we  should  not  unceas- 
 ingly speak  of  this  holy  House,  which  alone  can 
 furnish  them  with  Pastors?  No,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  it  shall  not  thus  be  ;  never  shall 
 we  cease  to  speak  of  it,  never  cease  to  insist,  like 
 St.  Paul,  in  time  and  out  of  time  ;  never  shall  we 
 imagine,  that  we  rendered  the  smallest  service, 
 as  long  as  any  thing  is  still  wanting  to  a  work, 
 which  equally  interests  the  great  and  the  little, 
 the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  present  and  future 
 generations. 
 
 We  feel  ourselves  the   more   authorised  to 
 
(60) 
 
 order  these  same  compensatory  alms,  as  last 
 year  they  have  not  entirely  satisfied  our  hopes. 
 It  is  with  great  regret  we  pubHsh,  as  we  have 
 witnessed  it  with  pain,  that  nearly  two  luindred 
 parishes  have  given  nothing  ;  and  that,  amongst 
 those  which  have  the  best  resources,  a  certain 
 number  have  but  feebly  contributed.  Is  this 
 the  fault  of  the  people  or  of  the  Pastors?  Is  it 
 impossibility  on  the  one  part,  or  indifference  on 
 
 the  other  ? But  why  seek  to  resolve 
 
 such  sad  questions,  when  we  find  elsewhere  so 
 much  praises  to  bestow,  and  so  many  flattering' 
 testimonies  to  render? 
 
 Let  us  rather  applaud  those  generous  districts 
 of  our  Diocess,  which  have  the  most  distinguished 
 themselves  by  their  zeal,  and  whose  alms  de- 
 serve to  be  related  ill  the  A ssemhlj  of  the  Faith- 
 ful. Let  us  name  with  honour  those  of  Auxerre, 
 Joigny,  ^AM-swx-kx^QsBar-sur-Seinej  Chaource, 
 Arcis'Sur-Aube,  Tonnerre,  Brienne,  Seiis,  and 
 Avallon.  Let  us  off'er  them  the  tribute  of  praise 
 and  gratitude  which  they  deserve.  But  it  is 
 chiefly  to  our  Episcopal  City  we  owe  our  most 
 special  thanks.  City  of  Troyes,  our  Joy  and  our 
 Crown  ;  City  of  God,  of  which  glorious  things 
 liave  been  told  us  as  of  Jerusalem,  receive  here 
 the  eflJ'usion  ol  our  heart  for  thy  pious  liberality, 
 worthy  thy  ancient  renown.     Receive  the  so- 
 
(61  ) 
 
 lemn  homage  we  love  to  render  to  this  ever- 
 active  charity,  of  which  thy  citizens  daily  offer 
 us  such  striking  examples.  We  have  happily 
 experienced  it,  when  docile  to  our  voice  we  have 
 seen  them  fly  to  the  succour  of  our  young  can- 
 didates, and  answer  the  first  appeal  we  made,  by 
 a  transport  of  generosity,  as  much  above  their 
 means  as  above  our  expectation.  Mayest  thou 
 surpass  all  cities  in  happiness,  as  thou  surpassest 
 them  in  pious  oblations  and  holy  munificence  ! 
 May  thy  children  long  be  blessed  by  the  presence 
 of  their  parents,  and  these  lalter  long  enjoy  the 
 respect  and  love  of  their  children  I 
 
 Mayest  thou  soon  behold  peace  and  plenty 
 reflourish  within  thy  walls, industry  revive,  com- 
 merce re-assume  a  new  vigour,  and  mayest  thou 
 receive,  in  recompense  for  so  many  good  works, 
 all  the  benedictions  of  Heaven  and  of  Earth  ! 
 
 The  pious  oiFe rings  of  the  different  districts  of 
 our  Diocess,  joined  to  the  succours  our  feeble 
 means  permit  us  to  lend,  have  enabled  us  this 
 year  to  meet  the  various  wants  of  our  Seminary. 
 Thus  have  we  been  able  to  ameliorate  its  move- 
 ables, to  augment  the  number  of  its  candidates, 
 and  aggrandize  its  locality.  For  this  purpose, 
 we  have  no  doubt  been  obliged  to  sacrifice  seve- 
 ral appartments  of  our  Episcopal  House  ;  but  no 
 personal  embarrassment  shall  stay  us,  when  there 
 
(62) 
 
 is  qiieslion  ol  an  establish  men  I,  which,  as  it  is 
 the  first  in  its  advantages,  should  be  the  first 
 object  of  our  cares.  Besides  about  forty  students 
 disseminated  in  the  different  schools,  or  confided 
 to  the  zeal  of  virtuous  Pastors,  who  do  not  hesi- 
 tate to  add  to  the  load  of  their  laborious  func- 
 tions the  noble  task  of  teaching  them  the  first 
 elements  of  clerical  education,  one  hundred  and 
 ten  are  placed  near  ourselves.  They  recall  to  us 
 those  happy  days,  when  the  house  of  the  Pre- 
 late was  that  of  the  young  Candidates  for  Orders. 
 
 They  grow  within  our  view  like  those  young 
 palms,  and  those  tender  olive-nurseries,  of  which 
 speaks  the  Royal  Prophet.  We  remark  their 
 progress,  we  encourage  their  efforts,  we  study 
 their  budding  dispositions,  we  often  animate 
 their  exercises  by  our  presence;  and  when  the 
 cares  and  pains,  inseparable  from  our  ministry, 
 come  to  sadden  our  thoughts,  we  console  our- 
 selves with  the  view  of  those  young  plants,  which 
 are  to  bring  forth  in  their  time,  and  to  diffuse 
 over  the  field  of  the  Lord  this  good  odour  of 
 virtue,  of  which  they  already  give  such  happy 
 promise. 
 
 The  situation  we  have  given,  it  is  true,  is  by 
 no  means  sufficient  to  procure  for  our  Seminary 
 that  solidity  and  consistence  suitable  to  an  insti- 
 tution  founded  on   the  general  interest,    and 
 
(  G3  ) 
 
 which,  by  its  very  nature,  should  be  independent 
 of  time  and  of  men.  It  is  in  too  great  a  dispro- 
 portion with  the  number  of  subjects  necessary 
 for  this  immense  Diocess,  and  our  Seminary 
 would  never  acquire  but  a  precarious,  uncer- 
 tain and  limited  existence,  if  we  do  not  succeed 
 in  obtaining  a  house  more  spacious,  more  sa- 
 lubrious, more  analogous  to  its  wants,  better 
 adapted  to  its  destination  ;  and  which,  by  being 
 more  sheltered  from  all  vicissitudes,  may  be 
 looked  upon  as  the  common  patrimony  of  the 
 Diocesan  Clergy. 
 
 Hence,  we  entertain  the  confidential  hope, 
 that,  penetrated  with  these  motives,  the  tutelary 
 Government  under  which  we  live,  will  not  delay 
 in  granting  us  a  more  eligible  situation  ;  and  that 
 those  generous  intentions,  which  our  august 
 Sovereign  has  deigned  more  than  once  to  mani- 
 fest to  us  in  person,  will  shortly  be  realized  ; 
 convinced  that  it  belongs  to  his  bounty,  as  well 
 as  to  his  greatness,  to  grant  the  locality  neces- 
 sary for  an  establishment,  we  may  truly  call  na- 
 tional, since  without  it  our  ministry  would  be 
 as  useless  to  the  service  of  the  Prince  as  to  that 
 of  Religion,  to  the  State  as  well  as  to  the  Church. 
 
 You  will  then,  second  us  with  all  your  efforts. 
 Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren;  you  will  asso- 
 ciate yourselves  with  pleasure  to  all  the  good 
 
(04) 
 
 those  young  Candidates  are  one  day  destined  to 
 produce.     You  will  make  it  a  duty  to  satisfy  the 
 Church,  to  which  you  owe  the  fairest  monu- 
 ments you  enjoy  ;  you  will  tremble  to  render 
 yourselves  culpable  of  ingratitude  towards  her, 
 if,  after  she  has  done  so  much  for  you  in  the  days 
 of  her  glory  and  of  her  opulence,  you  should 
 do  nothing  for  her,   now  that  she  possesses  no 
 longer  the  means  of  being  generous.      You  will 
 not  lose  sight  of  the  sad  desolation  which  me- 
 naces the  sanctuary,  if  the  hands  of  charity  do 
 not  hasten  to  support  its  tottering  pillars.    You 
 will  always  keep  in  \iew  this  frightful  chasm, 
 which  every  day  enlarges  by  the  death  of  so 
 many  Priests,  grown  old  before  their  time,  and 
 hurried  off  still  more  by  their  misfortunes  than 
 by  their  years;  immense  void   which  can  never 
 be  filled  up,  if  you  do  not  anticipate  the  fatal 
 epoch,  when  the  abyss  shall  be  without  bottom, 
 and  the  evil  without  remedy.     In  fine,  you  will 
 continually  reflect,  that  called,  as  you  all  are,  by 
 divine  Providence,  to  restore   the  tabernacles 
 and  support  the  holy  altars,  it  is  yours  to  second 
 it  in  so  great  a  design  :  and  that  if,  by  an  effect 
 of  this  indifference,  true  calamity  of  our  age,  the 
 Ministers  of   God   remain   without  successors, 
 morality  without  defenders,  and  faith  without 
 preachers;  if  our  temples  be  left  abandoned. 
 
(65) 
 
 our  churches  widowed,  and  our  pulpits  dumb ; 
 if  this  famine  of  the  divine  word  arrives,  of  which 
 the  Prophet  speaks— when  your  children  should 
 demand  in  vain  the  bread  of  instruction,  the 
 sinner  to  be  reconciled,  and  the  dying  to  be 
 consoled;  —  all  those  scandals  and  misfortunes 
 shall  fall  back  for  ever  on  your  heads,  and  be 
 imputed  to  you  during  eternity. 
 
 But  to  this  resource  of  compensatory  collec- 
 tions and  alms,  without  which  it  would  be  im- 
 possible for  us  to  support  our  Seminary,  we  think 
 we  should  still  add  that  of  charity-boxes,  by  or- 
 dering that  one  shall  be  placed  in  each  church 
 of  ourDiocess.  It  isa  practice,  of  which  many  of 
 our  venerable  colleagues  have  given  us  the  exam- 
 ple, and  of  which  it  is  now  more  necessary  than 
 ever  to  prescribe  the  execution.    There  the  poor 
 man  shall  more  easily  depose  his  slender  tribute ; 
 there  the  modest  rich,  jealous  only  of  the  looks 
 of  Heaven,  shall  conceal  his  generous  oblation ; 
 it  will  be  a  monument  always  present  to  recall  to 
 the  faithful,  already  moved  by  the  holy  instruc- 
 tions they  shall  have  received  in  our  temples, 
 their  obligation  of  succouring  the  most  interest- 
 ing class  of  the  poor,  that  is  to  say,  the  young 
 Candidates  of  our  Seminary,  who,  having  almost 
 abandoned  all  to  follow  their  sublime  vocation, 
 (the  humble  cottage  of  the  indigent)  are  not  the 
 
 E 
 
(66) 
 
 less  destined  one  day  to  be  the  fathers,  the  advo- 
 cates, and  the  solace  of  the  poor. 
 
 Here  follow  almost  the  same  regulations  as 
 those  of  the  preceding  year. 
 
 Given  atTroyes, in  our EpiscopalPalace,  under 
 our  sign,  the  seal  of  our  arms,  and  the  coun- 
 tersign of  our  Secretary,  the  tenth  of  Fe- 
 bruary, eighteen  hundred  and  eleven. 
 
 -f-  Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes. 
 By  Order, 
 
 HuiLLIER. 
 
(  67) 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTION 
 
 Ordering,  on  the  -2  \st  of  January,  the  celebration,  in 
 all  the  Churches  of  his  Dioccss,  of  a  solemn  Service 
 for  the  Anniversary  of  the  death  of  Leivis  XFl, 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Boulogne,  etc. 
 
 We  are  soon,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 to  behold  once  more  this  sad  and  deplorable 
 anniversary,  this  service  of  national  atonement, 
 in  which  the  most  solemn  mourning  should  ex- 
 piate the  g-reatest  of  crimes,  and  repair  the  most 
 memorable  outrage  man  ever  committed  against 
 Heaven.  Where  is  the  French  heart  that  has 
 not  outstripped  by  its  dearest  vows  this  funeral 
 commemoration,  and  that  does  not  hasten  to 
 share  a  sorrow  so  just  and  legitimate?  Where 
 is  the  Christian  heart  that  does  not  desire  to 
 
(C8) 
 
 make  of  this  day,  the  most  horrible  of  our  his- 
 tory, a  day  of  penance,  of  sadness  and  repent- 
 ance ;  that  does  not  feel  it  a  sacred  duty  to  assist 
 at  the  divine  sacrifice  which  is  going  to  be  offered 
 for  the  greatest  and  most  august  victim  that  was 
 ever  immolated  by  the  fury  of  faction  and  deli- 
 rious impiety  ? 
 
 Already,  no  doubt,  the  sacred  orators  were 
 preparing  to  celebrate  in  our  holy  temples  the 
 praises  of  the  Martyr-King.  Already  we  our- 
 selves were  determined  to  offer  him  a  tribute  so 
 dear  to  our  heart,  in  the  first  temple  of  the  ca- 
 pital, when  his  Majesty  communicated  to  us  his 
 desire,  that  no  funeral  oration  should  be  pro- 
 nounced in  any  church  the  ^\st  of  January .,  and 
 that  we  should  confine  ourselves  to  a  simple 
 lecture  from  the  pulpit  of  the  Testament  of 
 Lewis  XV I ^  as  being  the  most  noble  means  of 
 recalling  to  the  minds  of  Frenchmen  the  great 
 virtues  of  this  Prince. 
 
 And  indeed.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  it 
 is  the  most  excellent  panegyric  that  can  be  of- 
 fered to  our  admiration,  and  the  fairest  title  that 
 can  recommend  him  to  the  recollection  of  men ; 
 and  surely,  it  is  no  small  glory  for  Lewis,  that 
 tlie  most  eloquent  orators  can  say  nothing  in  his 
 praise  more  noble  and  more  touching  than  this 
 artless  production,  so  sublime  by  its  simplicity, 
 
(69) 
 
 in  which  this  virtuous  Prince   unwittinoly  dis-7 
 closes  the  whole  secret  of  his  heroic  mind* 
 
 We  shall  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 read  this  Testament  as  imperishable  as  our  mo- 
 narchy ;  so  much  the  more  worthy  to  be  pro- 
 claimed in  the  sacred  chair,  as  it  belongs  to  sa- 
 cred biography,  and  so  much  the  more  honour- 
 able to  Religion,  as  it  is  she  Kerself  that  dictated 
 it.  And  what  other  sentiment  than  that  of  reli- 
 gion could  have  upheld  Lewis  in  so  elevated  a 
 station,  and  inspired  him  with  that  supernatural 
 abnegation,  which  engages  him  not  only  to  par- 
 don his  enemies,  not  only  to  forget  their  crimes, 
 in  order  to  think  only  on  their  misfortunes,  but 
 to  ask  them  pardon  himself  of  the  wrongs  he  had 
 never  done  them  ^ — what  do  we  say?  of  the 
 wrongs  which  he  himself  was  then  receiving  at 
 their  hands.  Heroic  magnanimity,  of  which 
 there  is  no  example  in  the  annals  of  virtue,  and 
 of  which  we  should  seek  in  vain  the  smallest 
 vestige  in  the  most  boasted  sages  of  antiquity  ! 
 
 But  how  has  this  monument,  so  precious  for 
 the  nation  and  so  glorious  for  this  unfortunate 
 Monarch,  been  able  to  reach  us,  in  despite  of  so 
 many  treacherous  hands  so  interested  to  ravish 
 it  from  our  veneration.  Let  us  here  admire.  Our 
 Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  the  Providence  of  our 
 God,  who  has  willed  that  this  Testament,  which 
 
(  ^0  ) 
 
 serves  as  llie  most  supreme  condcmnalion  of  all 
 his  enemies,  sliould  be  preserved  bjliis  enemies 
 themselves,  and  bj  those  impious  Magistrates 
 who  presided  at  his  immolation  ;  who  has  willed 
 that  unsuspected  channels,  and  so  much  the 
 more  worthy  of  credit,  as  they  are  the  more 
 vile  and  culpable,  should  transmit  it  with  fide- 
 lity, in  order  that  no  doubt  should  attach  to  its 
 authenticity,  and  that  such  peremptory  evidence 
 should  immortalize  at  once  the  glory  of  the 
 victim  and  the  infamy  of  his  murderers. 
 
 We  must,  then.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 go  weep  between  the  Vestibule  and  the  Altar. 
 We  must  renew,  in  this  great  commemoration, 
 the  lively  horror,  the  profound  consternation,  in 
 which  the  nation  was  plunged  the  day  of  the 
 fatal  catastrophe.  From  one  end  of  France  to 
 the  other,  we  must  be  able  to  read  in  every  face, 
 that  the  French  Nation  is  innocent  of  the  death 
 of  its  King;  and  that,  far  from  having  shared  in 
 this  detestable  guilt,  we  devote  it  to  the  execra- 
 tion of  the  world.  After  the  example  of  a  rival 
 people,  who  every  year  avenges,  by  an  universal 
 mourning,  the  majesty  of  kings,  we  must  surpass 
 them  in  sorrow  and  regret,  as  we  have  surpassed 
 them  in  injustice  and  ingratitude.  We  must, 
 hy  more  frequent  supplications,  fasts,  and  good 
 works,  obtain  from  the  Father  of  Mercies,  that 
 
(71  ) 
 
 this  great  and  memorable  iniquity  be  not  im- 
 puted to  us,  may  he  far  removed  from  us,  accord- 
 ing to  the  expression  of  the  Prophet. 
 
 We  must,  in  fine,  prostrate  ourselves  before  the 
 Victim  of  propitiation,  in  order  to  invoke  heaven 
 in  favour  of  Him  who  was  the  victim  of  his  people 
 and  the  victim  of  virtue.  But  why  speak  of  in- 
 vocation ?  Is  it  true  that  Lewis  has  still  need 
 of  our  prayers?  Is  it  for  him,  and  not  for  us, 
 that  those  expiations  are  necessary  ?  Is  it  we 
 that  should  offer  the  aid  of  our  prayers,  or  is  it 
 he  that  already  intercedes  for  us  in  Heaven, 
 where  he  reposes?  Let  us  not  doubt  it,  Our 
 Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  we  may  believe  with- 
 out rashness,  that  this  pre-destined  soul,  purified 
 by  so  many  sufferings,  has  already  received  the 
 recompense  of  his  virtues;  that  the  Lord  has 
 shown  to  him  the  same  clemency  as  to  others, 
 and  that  all  the  frailties,  all  the  shades  of  his  life, 
 have  disappeared  before  the  immortal  day  of  his 
 death.  But  if  the  Testament  of  Lewis  gives  us 
 so  high  an  idea  of  his  soul,  and  inspires  us  with 
 so  much  veneration  for  him,  what  sentiments 
 should  we  not  experience  for  his  august  Testa- 
 mentary Executor,  for  him  who  is  still  more  the 
 heir  of  his  virtues  than  of  his  rights:  who  seems 
 to  augment  his  love  for  us  by  all  the  love  he 
 bore  him,  and  who,  so  nobly  faithful  to  his  last 
 
(72) 
 
 and  great  desires,  shines  forth,  by  his  clemency 
 and  his  bounty,  the  image  of  God  and  the  image 
 of  his  Brother. 
 
 Here  follow  certain  articles  which  indicate 
 the  day  and  the  ceremonies  of  the  service,  and 
 invite  thereto,  according  to  the  custom,  all  the 
 civil  and  mihtary  authorities. 
 
 Given  at  Troyes,  the  4th  of  January,  1816, 
 under  the  seal  of  our  arms,  and  the  coun- 
 tersign of  our  Secretary. 
 
 -j- Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes. 
 
 By  his  Lordship, 
 
 Constant  Migneaux^  Canon  Secretary. 
 
(73) 
 
 TESTAMENT  OF  LEWIS  XVI. 
 
 In  the  Name  of  the  Most  Holy  Trinity,  the 
 Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost.  This  day, 
 the  25th  of  December,  seventeen  hundred 
 and  ninety-two,  I,  Lewis,  sixteenth  of  the  name. 
 King  of  France,  being  now  more  than  four 
 months  confined  in  the  Tower  of  the  Temple  at 
 Paris,  by  those  who  were  my  subjects,  and  de- 
 prived of  all  communication  whatsoever,  even 
 since  the  eleventh  instant^  with  my  family. — 
 Moreover,  implicated  in  a  suit,  of  which  it  is  im- 
 possible to  foresee  the  issue,  on  account  of  the 
 passions  of  men,  and  of  which  we  can  find  no 
 pretext,  nor  means,  in  any  existing  law ;  having 
 God  alone  for  witness  of  my  thoughts,  and  to 
 whom  I  may  address  myself,  I  declare  here,  in 
 His  presence,  my  last  will  and  sentiments. 
 
 I  leave  my  soul  to  God  my  Creator  ;  I  pray 
 Him  to  receive  it  in  His  mercy,  and  not  to  judge 
 it  according  to  its  merits,  but  according  to  those 
 of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  offered  himself  in 
 Sacrifice  to  God  his  Father  for  us  men,  however 
 
( 74 ) 
 
 unworlhj  we  were  of  it,  and  I  myself  in  the  first 
 place. 
 
 I  die  in  union  with  Our  Holy  Mother,  the  Ca- 
 tholic, Apostolic,  and  Roman  Church,  who  holds 
 her  powers,  by  an  uninterrupted  succession,  of 
 Saint  Peter,  to  whom  Jesus  Christ  had  confided 
 them.  I  believe  firmly,  and  I  profess  all  that  is 
 contained  in  the  Creed  and  the  Commandments 
 of  God  and  the  Church,  the  Sacraments  and  the 
 Mysteries,  such  as  the  Catholic  Church  teaches, 
 and  has  always  taught  them.  I  have  never  pre- 
 tended to  constitute  myself  Judge  in  the  different 
 manners  of  explaining  the  dogmas,  which  rend 
 the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ ;  but  I  have  referred 
 myself,  and  shall  always  do  so,  if  God  grant  me 
 life,  to  the  decisions  which  the  Ecclesiastical 
 Superiors,  united  with  the  Holy  Catholic  Church, 
 give  and  shall  give,  conformably  to  the  disci- 
 pline of  the  Church  followed  up  from  the  time 
 of  Jesus  Christ.  I  bewail,  with  my  whole  heart, 
 my  brethren  who  may  be  in  error;  but  I  do  not 
 pretend  to  judge  them,  and  I  do  not  the  less  love 
 them  all  in  Jesus  Clirist,  according  as  Christian 
 charity  teaches  us  to  do. 
 
 I  pray  God  to  pardon  me  all  my  sins.  I  have 
 scrupulously  endeavoured  to  know  them,  to  de- 
 test them,  and  toliumble  myself  in  His  presence  : 
 not  having  it  in  my  power  to  avail  myself  of  the 
 
(  7fl  ) 
 
 minislry  of  a  Catholic  Priest,  I  pray  God  to  re- 
 ceive the  confession  I  have  made  to  Him  of  them, 
 and  chiefly  the  profound  sorrow  I  feel  for  hav- 
 ing (though  against  my  will)  put  my  name  to  acts 
 which  may  be  contrary  to  the  Discipline  and 
 Faith  of  the  Catholic  Church,  with  which  I  have 
 always  remained  sincerely  united  in  heart.  I 
 pray  God  to  accept  the  firm  resolution  which  I 
 have,  if  he  grant  me  life,  to  avail  myself,  as  soon 
 as  I  shall  have  it  in  my  power,  of  the  ministry 
 of  a  Catholic  Priest,  in  order  to  accuse  myself 
 of  all  my  sins,  and  receive  the  sacrament  of 
 penance.  (1) 
 
 I  pray  all  those  whom  I  might  have  inadver- 
 tently offended  (for  I  do  not  remember  to  have 
 knowingly  offended  any  one),  or  those  to  whom 
 I  might  have  given  bad  example  or  scandal,  to 
 pardon  me  the  evil  they  think  I  may  have  done 
 them . 
 
 I  pray  all  those  who  have  charity,  to  unite 
 their  prayers  to  mine,  in  order  to  obtain  of  God 
 the  pardon  of  my  sins. 
 
 (1)  His  Majesty  received,  some  time  after,  this  conso- 
 lation from  M.  L'Abbe  Edgeworth,  an  Irish  Catholic  Priest, 
 •who  accompanied  him  even  to  the  scaffold,  -where  he  bid 
 him  this  noble  and  truly  Christian  farcAvell  :  Fils  de 
 St.  Louis,  montez  au  CieiM\!  Son  of  St.  Lewis,  mount  to 
 Heaven ! 
 
(76  ) 
 
 I  pardon,  with  my  whole  heart,  all  those  who 
 have  made  themselves  my  enemies,  without  my 
 having  given  them  any  cause  for  so  doing  :  and 
 I  pray  God  to  pardon  them,  as  those  also,  who, 
 by  a  false  or  unenlightened  zeal,  have  done  me 
 much  harm. 
 
 I  recommend  to  God  my  Wife  and  my  Chil- 
 dren, my  Sister,  my  Aunts,  my  Brothers,  and  all 
 those  who  are  attached  to  me  by  the  ties  of 
 blood,  or  any  other  manner  whatsoever.  I  pray 
 God  particularly  to  cast  a  look  of  mercy  on  my 
 Wife,  my  Children,  and  my  Sister,  who  are  this 
 long  time  suffering  with  Me,  to  support  them  by 
 his  Grace,  if  they  happen  to  lose  Me,  and  as 
 long  as  they  shall  remain  in  this  perishable 
 world. 
 
 I  recommend  my  Children  to  my  Wife  ;  I 
 have  never  doubted  of  her  maternal  tenderness 
 for  them.  I  recommend  to  Her  particularly  to 
 make  good  Christians  and  honest  men  of  them, 
 not  to  make  them  look  on  the  grandeurs  of  this 
 lower  world  (if  they  shall  be  condemned  to  ex- 
 perience them)  but  as  dangerous  and  perishable 
 goods,  and  to  turn  their  views  towards  the  only 
 solid  and  lasting  glory  of  Eternity.  I  pray  my 
 Sister  to  have  the  goodness  to  continue  her 
 lender  cares  towards  my  Children,  and  to  be  as 
 
(77) 
 
 a  Mother  to  them,  should  they  have  the  misfor- 
 tune to  lose  their  own. 
 
 I  pray  my  Wife  to  pardon  Me  all  the  evils  she 
 is  sufFering-  for  Me,  and  all  the  sorrows  I  might 
 have  caused  her,  during  the  course  of  our  union, 
 as  she  maybe  assured  I  preserve  nothing  against 
 her  in  my  mind,  if  she  imagined  she  had  any- 
 thing to  reproach  herself  with. 
 
 I  most  instantly  recommend  to  my  Children, 
 after  what  they  owe  to  God,  who  must  go  before 
 all,  to  remain  always  united  together,  submissive 
 and  obedient  to  their  Mother,  and  grateful  for 
 all  the  care  and  trouble  she  gives  herself  on  their 
 account,  and  in  remembrance  of  Me.  I  pray 
 them  to  look  on  my  Sister  as  a  second  Mother. 
 
 I  recommend  to  my  Son,  if  he  should  have  the 
 misfortune  to  become  a  King,  to  reflect,  that  he 
 owes  himself  entirely  to  the  happiness  of  his 
 fellow-citizens,  that  he  should  forget  all  hatred 
 and  resentment,  and  namely,  every  thing  related 
 with  the  misfortunes  and  vexations  I  experience  ; 
 that  he  cannot  make  the  happiness  of  the  people 
 but  by  reigning  according  to  the  laws ;  but  at 
 the  same  time,  that  a  King  cannot  make  llie 
 laws  to  be  respected  but  in  as  much  as  he  pos- 
 sesses the  necessary  authority,  and  that  other- 
 wise, fettered  in  his  operations,  and  inspiring  no 
 respect,  he  is  more  hurtful  than  useful. 
 
(78) 
 
 I  recommend  to  my  Son  to  have  care  of  all 
 the  persons  who  were  attached  to  Me,  as  mud) 
 as  his  circumstances  sliall  give  him  the  means  of 
 so  doing-;  to  reflect  that  it  is  a  sacred  debt,  which 
 I  have  contracted  towards  the  children  or  parents 
 of  those  who  have  perished  for  Me ;  and  next, 
 of  those  who  suffer  misfortune  on  my  account. 
 I  know  that  many  of  those  who  were  attached 
 to  Me,  have  not  conducted  themselves  towards 
 Me  as  they  should,  and  that  they  have  shown  in- 
 gratitude; but  I  pardon  them  (in  moments  of 
 trouble  and  effervescence,  one  is  not  always 
 master  of  one's  self),  and  I  pray  my  Son,  if  he  shall 
 find  the  opportunity,  to  think  only  on  their  mis- 
 fortune. 
 
 1  could  wish  here  to  be  able  to  evince  my 
 gratitude  towards  all  those  who  have  shown  Me 
 a  real  and  disinterested  attachment.  If,  on  the 
 one  hand,  1  have  been  sensibly  afflicted  by  the 
 ingratitude  and  disloyalty  of  those  to  whom  I  had 
 never  shown  any  thing  but  kindness,  either  to 
 themselves,  their  relations,  or  their  friends  ;  on 
 the  other,  I  have  had  the  consolation  to  behold 
 the  attachment  and  gratuitous  interest,  which 
 many  persons  have  borne  Me.  I  pray  them  to 
 accept  my  best  thanks  for  it.  In  the  situation 
 which  things  still  are,  I  would  fear  to  compro- 
 mise tliem,   if  I  spoke  more  explicitly;   but  I 
 
(T9) 
 
 specially  recommend  to  mj  Son  to  seek  every 
 means  of  recog'nisin"'  them. 
 
 I  think,  however,  that  I  should  calumniate  the 
 sentiments  of  the  Nation,  if  I  did  not  openly  re- 
 commend to  my  Son  Messrs.  Chamilly  and  Hue, 
 whom  their  real  attachment  to  Me  had  engaged 
 to  shut  themselves  up  with  Me  in  this  sad  abode, 
 and  who  were  very  near  becoming  its  unfortu- 
 nate victims.  I  also  recommend  to  him  Clery, 
 with  whose  attention,  since  the  time  he  has  been 
 with  Me,  I  have  every  reason  to  be  satisfied.  As 
 it  is  he  who  has  remained  with  Me  to  the  last,  I 
 pray  the  Gentlemen  of  the  Common-Council  to 
 deliver  up  to  him  my  clothes,  my  books,  my 
 watch,  my  purse,  and  the  small  effects  which 
 have  been  deposited  at  their  office. 
 
 f  still  most  willingly  pardon  those  who  guarded 
 Me,  all  the  bad  treatment  and  constraint  they 
 thought  they  should  have  made  use  of  towards 
 Me.  I  have  met  with  some  feeling  and  compas- 
 sionate persons  j  may  they  enjoy  in  their  hearts 
 the  tranquillity,  which  their  manner  of  thinking 
 must  procure  them  I 
 
 I  pray  Messrs.  De  Malesherbes,  Tronchet,  and 
 Deseze,  to  receive  here  my  best  thanks  and  the 
 expression  of  my  sensibihty,  for  all  the  cares  and 
 pains  they  have  taken  on  my  account. 
 
(  80  ) 
 
 I  conclude,  by  declaring  before  God,  and 
 ready  to  appear  before  him,  that  I  do  not  re- 
 proach myself  with  any  of  the  crimes  advanced 
 asrainst  Me. 
 
 Done,  with  a  duplicate,  in  the  Tower  of  the 
 Temple,  the  25th  of  December,  1792. 
 
 LEWIS. 
 
(81   ) 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTION 
 
 On  ike  love  and  fidelity  we  owe  the  King,  and  on 
 the  re-establishment  of  the  Catholic  Religion  in 
 France. 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Boulogne,  etc. 
 
 We  addressed  to  jou  at  the  lime,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  our  Instructions  (1)  relative 
 to  the  sitting  of  the  two  Legislative  Bodies, 
 and  to  the  Prayers  marked  out  by  us  on  that 
 occasion,  in  order  to  second  the  intentions  of 
 our  virtuous  Monarch.  With  what  pleasing 
 satisfaction  have  we  not  learned  the  good  they 
 have  produced  not  only  in  ourDiocess,  but  also  in 
 divers  parts  of  France,  where  the  friends  of  Re- 
 
 (1)  These  Instructions  arc  "wanting  in  the  Collection 
 with  Avhich  the  Bishop  of  Troyes  has  honoured  the 
 TransFator. 
 
(82) 
 
 ligion  and  of  the  Monarchy  have  eagerly  diffused 
 them.  We  think,  then,  that  we  shall  fulfil  our 
 duties  and  your  desires,  by  further  developing  our 
 preceding  Pastoral  Instruction.  It  is  in  those 
 grave  and  important  circumstances,  when  our 
 Representatives,  under  the  auspices  of  our  Kg, 
 labour  more  strenuously  than  ever  to  strengthen 
 tlie  eternal  contract  between  the  Throne  and  the 
 Altar,  which  cannot  exist  without  each  other ;  it 
 is  in  this  moment,  so  decisive  either  for  our  safety 
 or  for  our  ruin,  that  it  has  appeared  to  us  neces- 
 sary, to  direct  more  particularly  the  public  atten- 
 tion towards  two  objects,  which  embrace  at  once 
 the  interests  of  Earth  and  those  of  Heaven,  that 
 is  to  say,  of  the  King  and  Religion ;  the  King,  in 
 order  to  penetrate  ourselves  with  those  senti- 
 ments of  love  and  fidelity  which  we  owe  him  ; 
 Religion,  in  order  to  feel  more  deeply  what  need 
 tve  have  of  its  speedy  and  eflicacious  restoration  : 
 the  King,  whom  all  France  desires,  and  the  Re- 
 ligion, which  all  France  demands.  Such  is  the 
 two-fold  object  which  has  appeared  to  us  best 
 calculated  to  interest  you  as  Frenchmen  and  as 
 Christians. 
 
 Wc  shall  not,  Our  Dearly  Reloved  Brethren, 
 labour  to  prove  to  you,  that  love  and  fidelity 
 towards  the  King  are,  as  it  were,  the  inbred 
 feelings  of  French  hearts;  that  they  have  formed, 
 
(83) 
 
 in  all  limes,  our  distinguishing  feature,  and  that 
 we  may  look  on  them  as  the  second  religion  of 
 our  country.  Every  thing  has  changed  around 
 us  ;  new  usages  have  replaced  the  old,  the  forms 
 even  of  our  Monarchy  have  been  modified  by 
 time ;  but  the  spirit  of  our  Monarchy  has  never 
 experienced  the  smallest  alteration,  and  this  is 
 the  only  point  which  has  fixed  our  inconstancy. 
 We  have  seen  this  sentiment  weather  throughout 
 every  political  tempest.  It  has  outlived,  or  rather 
 beaten  down  every  revolution.  Yes,  if  we  have 
 seen  France,  in  the  days  of  her  phrensy  tear  her 
 own  bowels,  in  order  to  bring  forth  this  mon- 
 strous Republic,  which  carried  on  its  forehead, 
 like  the  beast  of  the  Apocalypse,  the  mystery  of 
 all  crimes,  {\)  and  in  its  heart  all  the  depths  of 
 Satan  ;  (2)  the  very  excess  of  our  country's  mis- 
 fortunes at  this  lamentable  epoch,  has  only 
 served  to  attest  more  loudly  to  all  ages,  that  in 
 abandoning  her  King,  she  had  abandoned  her- 
 self, and  that,  in  returning  to  him,  she  has  equal- 
 ly followed  her  own  spontaneous  impulse,  and 
 the  force  of  things.  This  is  the  sacredfire  which 
 was  concealed  during  the  days  of  her  captiuitj  ; 
 but  which,  having  never  been  extinguished, 
 blazed  forth  anew  at  the   first  ray  of  the  sun, 
 
 CI)  Apoc.  XVII,  5.  (2)  Ibid.  II,  2A. 
 
(  8A  ) 
 
 at  the  first  apparition  oC  our  august  Bourbons, 
 and  whose  sudden  flash  has  proved  again,  that 
 France  is  llic  native  soil  of  the  Monarchy,  and 
 that  she  cannot  live  nor  die  but  with  her  King. 
 
 When  a  Minister,  not  less  enlightened  than 
 virtuous,  pronounced  in  the  midst  of  our  Repre- 
 sentatives these  words,  as  simple  as  they  are 
 touching,  "■  France  wishes  her  King  ;"  with  what 
 enthusiasm  were  they  not  hailed,  and  with  what 
 transports  was  it  not  answered  —  France  wishes 
 her  King !  This  explosion  of  sentiment,  this 
 unanimous  cry  of  the  heart,  piercing  the  pre- 
 cints  where  it  was  heard,  has  re-echoed  not  only 
 through  France,  but  through  all  Europe.  Botli 
 one  and  the  other  have  repeated,  with  a  kind  of 
 rivalry,  France  wishes  her  King,  and  she  shall 
 have  her  King,  because  she  wishes  him,  and  be- 
 cause she  cannot  but  wish  him;  because  Royalty, 
 being  her  centre  and  element,  she  can  find  in  it 
 alone  her  safety  and  repose ;  because  Providence 
 and  Nature  have  evidently  formed  her  for  this 
 kind  of  Government,  and  imperious  necessity, 
 the  first  of  laws,  thus  wills  it. 
 
 France  wishes  her  King,  but  her  legitimate 
 one ;  because  legitimacy  is  the  first  treasure  of 
 a  people,  and  a  favour  so  much  the  more  pre- 
 cious, as  it  can  supply  all  others,  and  cannot  be 
 supplied  by  any  ;  because  it  is  the  guardian  of 
 
(85) 
 
 all  rights  and  properties,  and  the  first  bulwark 
 of  public   morality ;  because    it  is  the  greatest 
 enemy  of  tyranny,  and  the  greatest  obstacle  to 
 despotism,  at  the  same  time  that  it  is  the  surest 
 guarantee    of   moderation    and   equity    in   the 
 throne  ;  her  legitimate  King,  whose  rights,  con- 
 secrated by  ages,  and  recognised  without  con- 
 testation, disconcert  all  intrigues,  silence  all  am- 
 bition, confound  all  plots  and  pretensions  ;  her 
 legitimate  King^  superior  to  every  fear,  because 
 he  is  without  a  competitor;  to  every  jealousy, 
 because  he  has  no  rival ;  to  every  vanity,  because 
 of  his  elevation  ;  to  every  partiality,  because  he 
 can  have  but  one  great  interest,  that  of  justice  ; 
 and  so  identified  with  his  own  subjects,  that  he 
 and  they  must  equally  profit  by  his  labours. .  In 
 a  word,  her  legitimate  King,  and  not  an  usurper, 
 who  could  not   be  her  King,  but  her  Tyrant  ; 
 who  should  make  much  noise  to  astound  and 
 distract_^  and  do  much  evil  to  enslave  and  cor- 
 rupt; who,  the  better  to  strengthen  his  bloody 
 throne,  should  wish  to  ruin  all  others;  and,  the 
 better  to  ensure  his  own  repose,  should  seek  to 
 trouble  that  of  the  entire  world  ;  who,  in  fine, 
 to  make   his  own  origin  be   forgotten,  should 
 have  need  of  the  splendour  of  victories,  and>  to 
 justify  those  victories,  should  have  need  of  every 
 crime. 
 
(  86  ) 
 
 France  wishes  her  King,   l)ut  she  likewise 
 wishes  the  Royal  Family  ;  this  race   of  heroes 
 and  of  sages,  which,  during  nine  centuries,  has 
 not  produced  a  single  tyrant;  this  race,  which 
 has  no  rival  in  grandeur,  and  effaces  by  its  bril- 
 liancy all  the  genealogies  of  the  world.     France 
 wishes  it,  because  she  wishes   the  hereditary 
 government,  as  the  most  simple,  the  most  for- 
 cible, the  most  lasting,  and  which,  like  nature, 
 as  Bossuet  says,  proceeds  onward  alone  and  un- 
 aided ;  because  the  Hereditary  Crown  is  for  the 
 Empire  the  surest  pledge  of  its  stability  and  re- 
 pose j   because  nothing  more  strongly  attaches 
 to  each  other  the  Sovereign  and  the  People  than 
 this  succession  of  Kings  in  one  and  the  same 
 family,  whose  antiquity  and  whose  glory  can  but 
 serve  as  new  titles  to  its  bounty  and  beneficence. 
 It  is  the  wise  man  himself  that  has  said  it :  happy 
 the  people,  whose  King    is  of  an   illustrious 
 race  ;  (1 )  nothing,  in  fact,  being  more  proper  than 
 this  illustrious  origin,  to  command  the  respect  of 
 the  people  j  nothing  better  calculated  to  render, 
 on  the  one  part,  obedience  more  easy  and  more 
 honourable,  and,  on  the  other,  authority  more 
 meek  and  more  paternal.     Wliat,  then,  should 
 we   think  of  those  men  so  little  jealous  of  the 
 
 (1)  Eccles.  X,  17. 
 
(87) 
 
 glory  of  the  French  name,  who  should  dare  to 
 prefer  for  a  single  moment  the  ignoble  blood  of 
 a  stranger,  unknown  even  in  his  native  country, 
 to  the  august  blood  of  Saint  Lewis,  Henry  the 
 Fourth,  and  Lewis  the  Great  ?  Is  there  a  single 
 idea  of  happiness  and  glory  that  does  not  attach 
 to  those  sacred  names  ?  It  is  then  a  true  motive  of 
 gratitude  towards  God,  but  which  certain  minds 
 do  not  sufficiently  appreciate,  that  there  is  nothing 
 in  this  world  to  be  compared  with  the  splendour 
 of  the  Lilies  J  and  that  nothing  greater  has  ever 
 been  produced  amongst  men  either  by  time  or 
 by  opinion.  This  single  consideration  should 
 suffice  to  make  us  for  ever  cherish  a  family  illus- 
 trated by  so  much  virtue  and  glory,  with  which 
 no  other  can  pretend  to  riv^l,  and  to  which  all 
 others  esteem  it  an  honour  to  yield  ;  a  family, 
 whose  various  titles  lend  new  dignity  to  the 
 Nation,  new  splendour  to  Majesty,  new  gran- 
 deur to  the  Monarchy,  and  more  solidity  to  the 
 Throne. 
 
 France  wishes  her  King,  but  she  still  wishes 
 him  for  his  own  personal  virtues,  his  happy 
 qualities,  and  all  those  gifts  of  the  mind  and 
 heart,  with  which  Heaven  has  endowed  him. 
 
 She  wishes  this  King,  the  first  lessons  of  whose 
 enlightened  education  were  those  of  misfor- 
 tune ;  who  only  \yishes,    according  to  his  own 
 
(88) 
 
 expressions,  whatever  can  render  France  1iapi>j; 
 lo  whom  no  reproach  can  be  made,  save  that 
 perhaps  which  Cesar  sometimes  received  ;  of 
 whom  nothing  can  be  feared  save  the  excess  of 
 his  magnanimity,  and  who,  after  having  con- 
 quered hy  his  tenderness  the  love  of  his  own 
 nation,  has  known  how,  by  the  loyalty  of  his 
 character,  to  command  the  confidence  and 
 esteem  of  all  others. 
 
 France  wishes  her  King,  because  Europe  thus 
 wills  it,  and  secures  our  throne ;  and  Europe 
 wishes  him,  because  she  has  repented  of  not 
 having  willed  it  efficaciously,  when  she  should 
 and  might  have  done  so  j  because  she  now  feels 
 too  sorely  how  much  it  has  cost  her  not  lo  have 
 sooner  avenged  the  insulted  Majesty  of  Kings  ; 
 because  she  believes  she  owes  her  safely  to  the 
 same  miracle  as  France ;  because  she  feels  no 
 security  but  in  ihe  stability  of  this  throne,  which 
 cannot  be  shaken  without  shaking  the  world  to 
 its  centre  5  because,  in  a  word,  the  destiny  of 
 Europe  is  inseparable  from  that  of  France,  and 
 hence  it  is,  that,  in  replacing  Lewis  on  the 
 throne  of  his  ancestors,  Europe  felt  herself,  as  it 
 were,  replaced  on  her  own  ancient  foundations. 
 
 France  wishes  her  King ;  but  in  thus  wishing 
 him,  she  does  not  prelend  she  can  wish  another ; 
 and  happily  she  does  not  claim  this  fatal  privilege. 
 
(89) 
 
 Far  from  us  ihe  thought,  that  Kings  hold  their 
 authority  from  the  people,  and  that  the  power 
 they  may  have  had  of  choosing  theni  carries 
 with  it  the  power  of  recalHng  them,  as  often  as 
 in  their  "wisdom  or  their  folly  they  may  deem  it 
 meet.  No,  it  is  not  true,  that  the  people  be 
 sovereign,  and  Kings  their  delegates,  no  more 
 than  fathers  be  the  delegates  of  their  children, 
 or  tutors  those  of  their  pupils.  This  is  the  cry 
 of  rebels  and  the  dream  of  independents,  the 
 obscure  chimera  of  seditious  democracy,  the 
 most  cruel  lie  ever  invented  by  our  tyrants  to 
 deceive  the  multitude.  It  is  not  our  design 
 seriously  to  refute  this  baleful  sovereignty, 
 which  could  never  be  exercised  by  the  people 
 but  to  their  own  ruin,  which  was  never  pro- 
 claimed amongst  us  but  across  rivers  of  blood  ; 
 this  mock  sovereignty,  which  cannot  be  any 
 thing  else  but  the  hard  necessity  of  obeying 
 and  the  right  of  deposing  itself;  this  fantastic 
 sovereignty,  which  at  best  is  but  a  coloured 
 title,  a  fiction  of  law,  a  mere  hypothesis,  and 
 which  can  exist  no  where  but  in  the  region  of 
 abstractions.  But  it  is  our  duty  to  appeal  here, 
 in  the  name  of  Religion,  against  this  antisocial 
 doctrine,  vomited  foilh  amongst  us  by  the  re- 
 volutionary volcano,  and  to  warn  the  faithful 
 confided  to  us,    against   this  double  heresy  in 
 
(90) 
 
 politics  and  relig-ion,  reproved  alike  by  the 
 greatest  doctors  and  the  most  eminent  legis- 
 lators; not  less  opposed  to  the  natural  than  to 
 the  divine  law,  not  less  destructive  of  the  au- 
 thority of  Kings  than  that  of  God. 
 
 j^ll  power  Cometh  from  God,  and  lie   who 
 resisteth  to  powei\  resisteth  to  God  himself.  (1) 
 Such,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  is  the  public 
 law  of  Religion,  without  which  no  one  has  the 
 right  to  command,  nor  the  obligation  to  obey. 
 This  is  the  first  sovereignly,  from  which  flow  all 
 the  others,  and  without  which  all  others  should 
 want  their  basis  and  their  sanction.     This  is  the 
 only  constitution  that  "was  ever  founded  for  all 
 times  and  all  places;  the  only  one,  with  which 
 we  can  want  all  others,  but  without  which  no 
 other  can  subsist ;   the  only  one  that  can  never 
 be  obnoxious  to  revision,  with  which  no  faction 
 can  meddle,  against  which  no  rebellion  prevail ; 
 superior  alike  to  people  and  kings,  to  rulers  and 
 subjects  :  all  power  cometh  from  God,  and  he 
 who  resisteth  unto  power,  resisteth  unto    God 
 himself.     It  is  hj  me  that  Kings  reign.  (2)  Mag- 
 nificent expression,  which   seems  to  share  the 
 fecundity  of  creation.    Hence  naturally  flow  all 
 the  rights  of  Princes  and  all  the  duties  of  sub- 
 
 "O' 
 
 (1)  Rom.  II,  2.  (2)  Prov.  Ill,  IS. 
 
(91   ) 
 
 jecls;  or,  if  you  will,  the  rights  of  subjects, 
 and  the  duties  of  Princes.  Substitute  to  this 
 truly  celestial  maxim  the  sovereignty  of  the 
 people,  and  hear  it  said  :  It  is  by  me  that  Kings 
 reign.  What  an  abyss  of  absurdities,  what 
 confusion  of  ideas!  Draw,  if* you  can,  some 
 happy  and  useful  consequence  for  nations  from 
 this  pretended  sovereignty;  what  do  we  say? 
 turn  it  in  every  sense,  and  nothing  can  resul'' 
 from  it  but  trouble  and  disorder,  and  uproar 
 and  anarchy.  This  people,  says  Isaias,  only 
 speaheth  and  dveameth  of  conspiracies.  (1)  Such, 
 Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  is  the  people 
 that  imagines  itself  a  sovereign,  and  that  in  fact 
 is  nothing,  and  can  be  nothing  but  its  own 
 enemy;  which  placing  its  first  privilege  in  resist- 
 ance, that  is,  in  the  destruction  of  the  established 
 order,  can  never  reign  but  over  ruins.  And 
 whence  this  dreadful  subversion  of  ideas,  which 
 looks  upon  treason  as  an  empty  sound,  and  per- 
 jury as  a  mere  pastime,  unless  from  this  fatal 
 principle,  that  the  sovereignty  of  Kings  being 
 but  the  effect  of  the  caprice  of  the  people  or 
 that  of  chance,  no  one  is  bound  to  obey  them, 
 but  as  long  as  interest  wishes  or  force  com- 
 mands. 
 
 (1)  Isal.  VIII,  12. 
 
(92) 
 
 O  Lord,  sajs  the  Prophet,  establish  Oi>er  them 
 a  Legislator,  that  the  nations  may  know  they 
 are  but  men  I  (1)     This  is  another  of  those  pro- 
 found maxims  which  flow  from  the  plenitude  of 
 the  holy  spirit,   and  which  contain  more  true 
 policy  than  all  the  books  of  all  the  sages  of  the 
 world.     Establish,  and  indeed  God  alone  can 
 establish  man  above  his  fellows.     Il  is  only  the 
 King  of  Heaven   that  can  make   us  bow    our 
 heads  to  the  King  of  the  earth.     The  Almighty 
 alone  can  have  subjects,  and  the  right  of  making 
 them  over  to  others.  He  that  judges  consciences 
 can  alone  have  the  power  to  bind  them ;  and,  in 
 giving  authority  to  command,  can  alone  impose 
 the  duty  of  obedience.     For  how  could  we  by 
 duty  obey  a  King,  who,  whatever  be  his  autho- 
 rity, is  no  more  than  man;  and  how  could  a 
 King  command  my  conscience,  if  my  conscience 
 be  not  already  chained  down  by  a  superior  will? 
 What  right  has  he  to  exact  my  oaths,  and  to 
 count  on  my  fidelity,  if  he  be  not  the  minister  of 
 God,  (2)  and  the  representative  of  Him,  who  re- 
 ceives those  oaths,  and  thus  renders  them  sacred 
 and  inviolable?  Constitue. 
 
 Establish  a  Legislator,  thatis^  a  King,  a  Legis- 
 lator by  excellence,  without  whom   there  can 
 
 (1)  Ps.  IX,  21.  (2)  Rom.  II,  A. 
 
(  03  ) 
 
 exist  no  law ;  a  supreme  Legislator,  who  shall 
 speak  and  execute  the  law  in  jour  name ;  one 
 Legislator  and  not  many;  for  the  more  nume- 
 rous the  Legislators,  the  less  perfect  the  law ;  a 
 Legislator  without  any  rival  authority,  in  order 
 that  he  may  do  good  without  any  obstacle ;  a 
 Legislator,  who  by  submitting  himself  to  his 
 own  laws,  can  subject  none  to  his  passions  and 
 caprices ;  in  a  word,  a  Legislator,  who,  by 
 establishing  just  laws  only,  shall  thereby  con- 
 duct his  people  to  true  liberty ;  for  liberty  is  as 
 inseparable  from  justice,  as  happiness  from 
 virtue  :    Legislatorem. 
 
 Establish  over  them  a  Legislator ;  that  is,  a 
 Sovereign,  who  shall  represent  himself  and  not 
 them  ;  a  Sovereign  above  them,  and  not  a  ma- 
 gistrate delegated  by  them,  and  removeable  at 
 will ;  establish  a  Sovereign,  who  shall  be  above 
 them,  and  not  them,  who  are  necessarily  be- 
 neath him  ;  a  Sovereign,  who  shall  defend  and 
 protect  them,  and  not  them,  who  are  to  be 
 defended  and  protected  ;  a  Sovereign,  who 
 weareth  not  the  sword  in  vain,  who  recom- 
 penseth  the  good  and  punisheth  the  wicked ^  (1 ) 
 and  not  them  who  are  to  be  punished  or  recom- 
 pensed according  to  their  works;  in  fine,  a  Sove- 
 
 (1)  Rom.  XIII,  h. 
 
(  94) 
 
 reign,  who  shall  hold  authority  in  hand  and  the 
 free  exercise  of  power,  and  not  them,  who  can 
 neither  exercise  nor  communicate  it,  because 
 they  possess  it  not;  and  they  do  not  possess  it, 
 because  they  have  received  it  from  none,  unless 
 indeed  they  may  have  given  it  to  themselves  : 
 Super  eos. 
 
 In  order  that  the  nations  may  know  they  are 
 but  men,  that  is,  feeble,  limited  and  helpless 
 beings  of  their  own  nature;  made  to  be  con- 
 ducted, and  not  to  conduct  themselves  by  their 
 own  wisdom;  who  can  neither  live  without  laws, 
 nor  govern  themselves ;  who  have  need  to  be 
 secured  against  their  own  passions,  their  own 
 liberty,  their  own  inconstancy;  always  ready 
 to  wander  and  to  lose  themselves,  unless  in 
 pity  God  give  them  a  master  ;  men  already  dis- 
 posed to  yield  themselves  up  to  the  first  ambi- 
 tious pretender  that  shall  wish  to  enslave,  to 
 the  first  rebel  that  may  wish  to  seduce  them, 
 always  blind  instruments  of  those  who  wish  to 
 make  use  of  them ;  always  victims  of  the  revo- 
 lutions which  are  ever  effectuated  by  them,  and 
 never  for  them  ;  men  who  of  themselves  are 
 neither  masters  nor  subjects,  but  who  must  have 
 masters  and  become  subjects,  if  they  wish  not 
 to  perish  by  their  own  fury  :  men,  in  fine,  who 
 cannot  revolt  against  authority,    and   shake  off 
 
(95) 
 
 the  yoke  iaiposed  on  ihem  by  Heaven,  with- 
 out renouncing  iheir  own  happiness,  without 
 punishing  themselves,  and  without  learning,  at 
 their  own  expense,  that  a  people  ceases  to 
 exist  and  to  be  counted  in  the  rank  of  nations, 
 when  it  ceases  to  be  faithful  to  its  God  and  to 
 its  King;  Ut  sciant  gentes  quoniam  homines  sunt. 
 
 It  is  here  that  Religion  is  truly  admirable. 
 She  makes  the  sovereignty  of  Kings  depend  on 
 Him  who  creates  all,  who  can  do  all,  who  pre- 
 serves all,  and  who  is  himself  essential  order. 
 Philosophism  makes  it  originate  with  the  people, 
 who  do  nothing,  can  do  nothing  but  overturn 
 and  destroy.  We  here  ask.  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  which  of  these  two  principles  is  the 
 more  worthy  of  the  Deity,  and  appears  to  you 
 the  better  calculated  to  consolidate  the  throne, 
 and  give  to  nations  that  repose  which  constitutes 
 their  happiness  ? 
 
 The  innovators  will  not  fail  to  reply,  that  this 
 system  is  nothing  but  a  base  flattery,  only  proper 
 to  create  despots.  A  singular  flattery  in  truth, 
 whicli  recalls  to  Monarchs  the  most  rigorous 
 duties;  which  teaches  them,  that,  as  they  are 
 the  representatives  of  God  himself,  they  should 
 also  be  the  images  of  his  bounty  and  his  justice  ; 
 which  shows  them  continually  this  great  God 
 above  their  heads;  which  drags  them  without 
 
(90) 
 
 respite  before   his  awful  tribunal,  and  teaelies 
 us,  tbat  for  llie  mighlj  is  reserved  a  more  mighty 
 measure   of  chastisement   and    vengeance.   (1) 
 Ah  !  the  -vilest  and  most  dangerous  of  all  flat- 
 terers are  those  who  intoxicate  the  people  with 
 the  fondest  follies  and  the  most  illusory  rights; 
 who  have  not  blushed  to  advance,  that  the  peo- 
 ple was  all,  could  do  all,  was  the  source  of  all 
 authority,  and  consequently  of  all  justice ;  that 
 all  its  wishes  are  sacred,  all  its  orders  equitable, 
 and  whatever  it  establishes  good  and  reasonable. 
 But   what   more   dreadful   fanaticism,  than    to 
 draw  the  principle  of  order  from  the  assem- 
 blage of  all  the  passions,  and  the  principle  of 
 wisdom  from  ignorance,  weakness  and  corrup- 
 tion itself?     For,  indeed,  what  is  the  multitude 
 in  itself,   if  not  all  the  vices  in  ferment  and  all 
 the  passions  in  delirium?     And  yet  we  should 
 devour  those  shameful  absurdities,    if  it  were 
 true  that  Royalty  be  national  properly,  and  that 
 there  were  no  lawful  power  but  that  of  whicli 
 the  people  be  the  sovereign  arbiter  and  supreme 
 dispenser.     Absurdities  so  much  the  more  pal- 
 pable, as,  this  principle  once  admitted,  it  is  im- 
 possible to  recognise    any   legitimacy,  or  any 
 right  of  succession  in  the  reigning  races;  whereas, 
 
 (1)  Wisd.  V,  7. 
 
(97  ) 
 
 in  this  system,  all  exercise  of  power  is  neces- 
 sarily conditional,  hypothetical  and  provisional. 
 ALnd  yet,  without  this  legitimacy  and  right,  what 
 guarantee  exists  for  the  repose  of  nations  and 
 the  stability  of  Empires  ?  And  what  duration 
 can  a  state  promise  itself,  where  nothing  is 
 known  to  be  sacred  and  immoveable,  save  the 
 changing  and  capricious  will  of  the  multitude, 
 which,  to  make  use  of  perhaps  too  vulgar  an 
 expression,  lives  only  from  day  to  day,  and 
 whose  eventual  existence,  holding  neither  to 
 the  past,  nor  to  the  future,  would  be  but  one 
 permanent  revolution,  one  perpetual  storm. 
 
 And  surely,  if  Kings  could  not  reign  legally 
 but  by  the  people,  it  might  thence  be  concluded, 
 that  every  government,  not  founded  on  this 
 basis,  does  not  oblige  in  conscience,  that  it  is 
 contrary  not  only  to  morals  but  even  to  nature. 
 Hence  would  it  follow,  that  sovereignties,  which 
 were  never  constitutional,  nor  representative, 
 are  at  bottom  but  tyrannical  and  abusive  govern- 
 ments, which  the  people,  when  become  the 
 stronger  party,  are  authorized  to  subvert.  Now, 
 who  could  dare  to  defend  such  fatal  paradoxes, 
 or  pretend,  that  they  do  not  flow  immediately 
 from  the  system  now  in  vogue,  whose  first 
 maxim  is,  that  without  a  King  hj  the  i^race  of 
 the  people,  there  is  no  safety. 
 
 G 
 
(  98  ) 
 
 Hence,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  have 
 we  seen  this  senate  of  Kings,  under  the  name 
 of  Congress,  consecrate  the  principle  of  the 
 legitimacy  of  Royal  Dynasties,  as  the  /Egis  of 
 their  throne  and  the  snrest  guardian  of  the  hap- 
 piness of  the  people  and  the  tranquillity  of  states. 
 We  are  Kings,  say  they,  because  we  are  Kings : 
 the  order  and  stability  of  the  social  world  re- 
 quire it,  our  own  safely  demands  it;  and  they 
 have  said  so  without  anxiously  inquiring,  whe- 
 ther they  willed  it  thus,  in  opposition  to  the  ideas 
 called  liberal,  and  still  less,  whether  the  parti- 
 tion of  the  states  according  as  it  suited  their 
 interests,  was  not  the  solemn  condemnation  of 
 the  sovereign  people.  Enlightened  by  their 
 own  misfortunes,  and  fearing  to  experience  still 
 greater  calamities,  they  have  recognised  in  con- 
 cert, that  legitimacy  was  the  true  guardian  of 
 European  civilization,  and  that  the  first  right  of 
 nations  was  the  peace  of  the  world. 
 
 It  is  true,  we  have  seen  many  of  them  favour- 
 ing, at  the  risk  indeed  of  self-contradiction, 
 though  they  thereby  have  not  experienced  any 
 losses,    those    popular    forms  and    other    new 
 
 fano-led  theories,    unknown  to   their  ancestors, 
 
 o 
 
 and  to  which  their  own  states,  until  our  days, 
 were  utter  strangers;  we  do  not,  however,  fear 
 to  say,  that  this  is  the  malady  of  Europe,  and 
 
(99) 
 
 the  most  alarming-  symptom  of  her  decline.  It 
 is  here  Providence  seems  to  attack  her^,  in  order 
 to  hasten  her  dissolution.  Add  to  this  rage  of 
 melting  down  the  old  governments,  and  of 
 founding  them  on  books,  the  tendency  of  inno- 
 vating spirits  to  melt  into  one,  every  worship  and 
 every  party,  and  to  believe  that  the  authority  of 
 Princes  gains  for  itself  all  the  strength  and 
 authority,  of  which  they  deprive  Religion,  and 
 we  shall  then  have  the  two  greatest  political 
 dissolvents,  which  undermine  empires,  and  by 
 whose  force  Europe  must,  sooner  or  later,  fall 
 into  pieces  and  corruption. 
 
 This  system  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  people 
 compromises  not  only  the  stability  of  thrones, 
 but  also  the  personal  safety  of  Sovereigns.  And 
 why  would  not  those,  who  pretend,  that  the 
 people  can  arbitrarily  dispose  of  the  sceplre, 
 believe  that  they  can  equally  dispose  of  the 
 life  of  the  Monarch,  if  ihey  shall  judge  this 
 crime  necessary  for  the  public  safety?  It  was 
 this  favourite  system  of  the  gloomy  Puritans  and 
 the  fanatic  Presbyterians,  that  prepared  the 
 scaffold  of  the  first  Charles,  and  whetted  the 
 knife  of  the  French  parricides.  Never  would 
 they  have  found  so  many  accomplices,  never 
 consummated  the  ever  detestable  crime  which 
 
(  100  ) 
 
 has  appalled  the  world,  if  they  had  nol  taken 
 care  to  inoculate  the  public  mind  with  this  sedi- 
 tious maxim,  that  the  people  is  the  source  of  all 
 right,  and  that  thereby,  properly  speaking,  the 
 real  crime  of  high-treason  exists  only  for  the 
 Monarch,  who  should  mistake  the  source  of  his 
 power  and  the  author  of  his  precarious  and 
 conditional  majesty. 
 
 Hence  it  is.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 that  all  the  impious  make  of  this  fatal  doctrine 
 the  leading  point  of  their  policy ;  and  here, 
 indeed,  they  are  conclusive.  Accustomed  to 
 judge  God  and  his  mysteries,  why  should  they 
 not  imagine  themselves  entitled  to  judge  the 
 King  and  his  actions?  And  why  should  they 
 think  it  a  crime  to  dethrone  the  representatives 
 of  the  Deity,  they  who  aim  at  nothing  less  than 
 to  dethrone  God  himself,  and  who  have  exhi- 
 bited, in  our  own  days,  the  frightful  spectacle 
 of  Atheism  seated  on  our  altars. 
 
 But  let  us  abandon  those  sad  ideas,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Bretliren,  in  order  to  repose  our  eyes 
 on  more  attractive  objects,  and  contemplate 
 Beligion,  this  sovereign  protectress  of  Kings, 
 that  covers  with  her  tutelary  shield  their  persons 
 which  she  consecrates,  as  she  does  those  of  her 
 Pontiffs,  and  which   the  Prophet  forbids  to  bo 
 
(  101   ) 
 
 touched  (1)  under  pain  of  sacrilege;  and  the 
 independence  of  their  crown  which  she  her- 
 self placed  on  their  head,  and  of  which  no  one 
 can  deprive  them  ;  and  the  sanctitj  of  the  oath 
 we  owe  them,  and  from  which  none,  not  even 
 the  nation,  can  be  dispensed  ;  and  that  fidelity 
 towards  them,  which  no  subject  of  discontent, 
 no  injustice  ever  can  enfeeble ;  and,  in  fine, 
 that  love  for  them,  which  she  inspires,  rather 
 than  prescribes,  in  order  to  strengthen  the  feel- 
 ing of  loyalty,  and  which  is  at  once  its  most 
 noble  and  its  surest  guarantee. 
 
 And  indeed.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 this  love  is  the  vital  principle  of  Empires  and 
 the  true  genius  of  Royalty.  Without  love, 
 every  thing  dies  in  the  State  as  well  as  in  Reli- 
 gion. It  is  for  Governments,  as  well  as  for 
 Religion,  the  link  of  perfection,  (2)  This  ncble 
 sentiment  supplies  all.  It  abridges  all  the  ope- 
 rations and  simphfies  all  the  wheels  of  adminis- 
 tration. Love,  says  St.  Augustin,  and  do  what 
 you  please ;  which  is  as  true  in  politics  as  in 
 morals.  Kings,  love  your  people;  people,  love 
 your  Kings,  and  then  do  what  you  please.  All 
 duties  will  go  on,  as  it  were  by  themselves,  and 
 every   thing   will    march  in  the   line   of  right 
 
 (1)  Ps.  CIV,  15.  (2)  Coloss.  Ill,  \h.. 
 
(  102  ) 
 
 wilbout  pain  or  difficulty.     It  is  the  only  senti- 
 ment which   the   passions    cannot   abuse,   and 
 "which  no  sophism  can  extinguish.     The  most 
 subtle  and  refined  policy  can  never  substitute 
 any  thing  in  its  stead ;  and  all  the  sophists,  with 
 all  their  learned  speculations,  can  never  produce 
 any  thing  to  equal  this  impulsive  movement  of 
 the   heart,  which   no   space    can    limit,  which 
 inspires  every  species   of   devotedness,   which 
 commands  every  sacrifice   and  removes  every 
 fear    and    distrust;    which  ennobles    servitude 
 itself,  if  indeed  servitude  could  exist  with  love. 
 It  is  to  this  sentiment  that  the  French  monarchy 
 owes  its  long  duration.     It  is  at  once  the  most 
 loving  and  the  most  ancient,  and  may  indeed 
 well  be   called  the   eldest  of  nations,    as  her 
 Kings  are  styled  the  eldest  of  Kings.  Supported 
 by  Religion,  this  loi^e  which  is  stronger   than 
 death,  {])  has  defended  France  against  the  most 
 untameable  of  all  enemies,  time;  and  we  may 
 say,  that  it  has  done  more  for  her  defence  and 
 preservation  than  the  valour  of  our  soldiers  and 
 the  genius  of  our  captains. 
 
 How  culpable  must  not  then  be  those  sys- 
 tematic reformers,  who  have  broken  this  pre- 
 cious link  by  their  senseless  innovations,  their 
 
 (1)  Cant.  VI,  7^ 
 
(  103  ) 
 
 pretended  social  contracts,  and  all  their  political 
 transmutations,  in  which  wit  is  all,  and  sentiment 
 nothing  ;  who,  far  from  attracting  towards 
 each  other  the  hearts  of  Kings  and  those  of  their 
 subjects,  have  bent  all  their  science  to  separate 
 the  nation  from  its  head,  and  to  keep  them  at 
 the  greatest  distance  from  each  other.  Not  less 
 expert  in  deceiving  than  in  perverting,  they  have 
 taught  the  people  to  count  as  nothing  their  most 
 sacred  duties,  and  as  everything  their  most  chi- 
 merical rights.  Alas  I  said  we,  in  a  discourse 
 pronounced  in  presence  of  the  Mavtjv  King,  (1 ) 
 on  the  eve  of  our  misfortunes,  and  at  a  moment 
 when  those  hollow  murmurs,  the  gloomy  fore- 
 runners of  the  tempest,  were  echoing  in  our  earsj 
 Alas!  seditious  wretches,  the  better  to  enslave 
 us,  already  begin  to  speak  to  us  of  our  rights,  in 
 order  to  make  us  forget  yours.  No  doubt,  Sire, 
 we  have  rights,  and  they  are  as  ancient  as  the 
 monarchy  ;  the  right  of  belonging  to  you,  as  to 
 the  head  of  the  great  family,  and  of  calling  our- 
 selves your  subjects,  as  this  term  signifies  your 
 children ;  the  right  of  putting  in  our  just  appeals, 
 to  have  them  listened  to  ;  the  right  of  confound- 
 ing our  interests  with  those  of  your  Majesty;  the 
 right  of  expecting,  that  your  paternal  tenderness 
 
 (1)  Lewis  XVI, 
 
(  .404  ) 
 
 shall  answer  our  loyal  devotedness  ;  liie  rig^ht, 
 in  fine,  of  being  happy  by  your  cares,  and  free 
 under  your  laws.  As  to  those  sacred  and  in- 
 alienable rights,  Sire,  we  confide  them  to  your 
 love,  and  we  deposit  them  in  the  heart  of  the 
 Bourbons.  These  are  the  tables  of  the  law,  still 
 more  durable  than  the  brass  and  marble — living 
 tables,  where  our  contract  is  written,  and  the 
 French  have  no  need  of  others. 
 
 Thus  spoke  we.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 and  thus  spoke  the  entire  nation,  before  this  sad 
 2)hilosophy  had  dried  up  our  hearts,  the  better, 
 forsooth,  to  enlighten  our  minds,  and  had  forbid- 
 den us  to  feel,  in  order  the  better  to  teach  us  to 
 think.     How  far  was  not  this  language  of  the 
 heart,   this  declaration  of  sentiments,  superior 
 to  their  declaration  of  rights,  that  criminal  and 
 daring  manifesto  against  the  sovereign  and  against 
 nature  itself !  What  then  must  w^e  think  of  those 
 dry    speculators,    who,    completely    misunder- 
 standing the  human   kind,  surrounding  them- 
 selves only  with  written  compacts,  with  no  other 
 arms  than  securities,   have  dissipated  all  those 
 happy   illusions  which  surrounded  the  throne, 
 and  enfeebled  every  idea  of   paternity  in   the 
 monarch,    and    every   feeling   of  love   in     the 
 subject. 
 
 Fanatics  I  they   think  themselves  at  the   ze- 
 
(  105  ) 
 
 nilli  of  political  science,  and  thej  have  not  as 
 yet  learned  the  first  elements  of  morality,  and 
 know  no  more  the  genius  of  nations  than  the 
 nature  of  the  human  heart.  Blind  guides  I  thej 
 see  not  that  the  surest  means  of  avoiding  oppres- 
 sion is  to  inspire  confidence ;  and  that,  the  less 
 we  sympathize  with  the  heart  of  the  sovereign, 
 the  less  also  will  he  confide  in  the  heart  of  his 
 people  ;  that  here,  the  excess  of  precaution  can 
 only  produce,  on  the  one  hand,  an  umbrageous 
 authority,  and,  on  the  other,  a  calculated  sub- 
 mission ;  and  that  thus,  they  efface  that  filial 
 character,  and  break  that  link  of  love,  which 
 alone  can  conduct,  alone  has  always  conducted 
 Frenchmen,  and  has  done  more  for  their  happi- 
 ness than  ever  could  do  the  most  beauteous  and 
 scientific  constitution  of  the  world. 
 
 But  what !  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  have 
 those  men,  who  know  all,  still  to  learn,  that  Pro- 
 vidence has  not  made  of  the  art  of  governing  a 
 science  of  calculation,  but  of  sentiment ;  and 
 that  the  Creator  would  have  been  in  some  sort 
 wanting  to  himself,  if  he  had  abandoned  the 
 social  world  to  endless  discussions,  as  he  deli- 
 vered up  the  realm  of  intellect  to  interminable 
 disputes.  Must  they  still  learn,  that  the  multi- 
 tude is  led  on,  more  strongly  than  is  generally 
 imagmed,  by  its  very  natural  propensity  toward;* 
 
(  106  ) 
 
 obedience  and  submission  ?  In  those  who  go- 
 vern them,  they  must  behold  an  object  of  vene- 
 ration. They  have  need  to  be  conducted,  with- 
 out knowing  too  precisely  who  conducts  them. 
 They  have  need  of  admiring  and  believing,  and 
 of  confiding  tliemselves  to  those  placed  over 
 them  ;  and  it  is  Heaven  that  has  done  so  for  the 
 repose  and  preservation  of  the  human  race. 
 Woe  to  the  people,  if  they  become  rea- 
 soners,  and,  consequently,  restless  and  turbu- 
 lent; calculators,  and,  consequently,  ungrateful 
 and  suspecting.  Yes,  the  moment  they  shall  lose 
 this  faith  in  authority,  this  confidence,  which 
 creates  the  harmony  of  society;  the  moment  the 
 people  shall  no  longer  believe,  no  longer  admire, 
 no  longer  love,  no  longer  hope,  no  longer  con- 
 fide in  the  heart  of  the  Sovereign,  and  thus  give 
 the  formal  lie  to  their  own  instinct  and  their  own 
 wants,  the  universe  is  no  more. 
 
 But  happily,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 we  have  Behgion  to  save  the  universe  and  pre- 
 serve it  from  the  wreck  with  which  it  is  menaced 
 by  a  cold  and  haughty  Philosophy,  which, 
 judging  all,  despises  all ;  a  Religion,  which  is  all 
 love,  and  which,  by  this  single  feature,  distin- 
 guishes its  legislation  from  all  other  human 
 legislations  ;  a  Religion,  which  writes  its  cove- 
 riant  and  its  decrees,    but  writes  them  in  the 
 
(   iOT  ) 
 
 heart:  (1)  a  Religion,  which  shows  us  Heaven, 
 whence  descends  all  paternity,  (2)  and  with  it 
 royalty.  Rich  with  sentiments  and  with  lights, 
 she  teaches  us  to  love  our  masters,  as  the  God 
 of  whom  they  are  the  living  images,  bearing  on 
 their  fronts  the  brilliant  rays  of  his  power  and 
 majesty ;  so  that  it  is  impossible  to  say,  which  of 
 them  owes  Religion  a  more  lively  gratitude, 
 whether  it  be  Kings,  whose  subjects  she  renders 
 more  docile  and  more  loving,  or  subjects,  whose 
 Kings  she  renders  more  sacred  and  more  vene- 
 rable. 
 
 Hence  it  is,  that  France  would  still  have  done 
 nothing  for  her  own  happiness  if  she  only  wished 
 lierKing;  if  she  did  not  carry  her  views  still  higher, 
 and  re-demand  that  Religion  she  prefers  to  all. 
 
 Yes,  Our  Dearly  Reloved  Brethren,  France 
 wishes  not  only  her  King,  but  also  her  Religion; 
 she  has  announced  this  wish  by  the  organ  of  her 
 Representatives,  and  by  the  mouth  of  our  King, 
 whose  word  cannot  be  vain.  She  wishes  for  that 
 Religion,  which,  by  the  hands  of  one  of  her 
 Pontiffs,  laid  the  first  stone  of  her  Monarchy,  in 
 consecrating  her  first  Christian  King  ;  that  Reli- 
 gion, which  she  had  received  even  before  she 
 
 (1)  Eph.  Ill,  15.  (2)  RoQi.  II,   15. 
 
(  108) 
 
 was  France,  and  which  conquered  the  barbarians 
 
 who  had  conquered   ns.      She  wishes  for  that 
 
 Religion,  which  the  heirs  of  Clovis  transmitted  to 
 
 Charlemagne,  the  heirs  of  Charlemagne  to  those 
 
 of  Hugo  the  Great,  and  which  the  heirs  of  this 
 
 latter  cause  to  flourish  in  our  days  on  the  throne, 
 
 still  more  by  their  virtuous  examples  than  by 
 
 their    power;  (1)   so   that,   says    our   Bossuet, 
 
 France  is  the  only  kingdom  whose  throne  was 
 
 never  filled  but  by  a  Catholic  King.     It  is  then 
 
 the  Catholic  Religion  that  France  desires  ;  this 
 
 Religion,  which  exclusively  possesses  the  centre 
 
 of  unity,  the  stem  of  succession,  the  vivifying 
 
 juice,  the  ever  fruitful  and  vivacious  trunk  of 
 
 Christianity  -,  this  ever  wakeful  guardian  of  the 
 
 ancient  deposit,  the  most  redoubtable  rampart 
 
 which  impiety  has  to  scale,  in  order  to  overturn 
 
 revelation  ;  this  luishakeable  pillar  of  truth,  (2) 
 
 on  whose  summit  floats  majestically  the  brilliant 
 
 standard  of  the  divinity  of  Jesus  Christ,  which 
 
 she  announces  to  the  two  worlds;  fundamental 
 
 dogma,  without  which  all  the  others  would  be  so 
 
 many  lies,  and  Christianity  would  present  but  a 
 
 vain  shadow  of  itself,  a  lifeless  spectre  and  a  cold 
 
 hypocrisy;  in  short,  this  corner  stone,  on  which 
 
 (1)  Sermon  on  ihc  unity  of  the  Church. 
 
 (2)  II.  Tim.  Ill,  15. 
 
(  109  ) 
 
 reposes  the  Chrislianitj  of  the  whole  world ;  so 
 that  every  thing,  which  bears  the  name  of  Chris- 
 tian, is  interested  in  its  preservation  and  in  its 
 propagation  ;  jes,  every  loss  the  Catholic  Reli- 
 gion sustains,  every  stroke  she  recives,  every 
 victory  she  loses,  is  a  loss  for  Europe,  an  attempt 
 against  morality,  a  conquest  on  her  happiness, 
 her  civilization  and  her  tranquillity. 
 
 France  wishes  for  her  Religion,  because  Reli- 
 gion is  the  most  sacred  and  inviolable  of  all  her 
 properties,  and  because  no  one  has  a  right  to  seize 
 upon  it,  none  can  even  shackle  its  free  exercise, 
 enfeeble  its  solemnity,  or  lower  its  pre-eminence 
 over  all  other  worships,  without  declaring  them- 
 selves at  once  the  enemies  of  morals  and  pubUc 
 liberty. 
 
 France  will  have  her  Religion,  because  the  im- 
 pious will  have  it  not;  and  because,  forced  to 
 acknowledge  one,  they  would  prefer  to  her 
 every  other  that  bears  not  the  curse  of  beino-  the 
 Religion  of  our  ancestors  ;  because  the  enemies 
 of  the  King  will  not  have  her,  convinced  as  they 
 are,  that  as  long  as  Catholicity  lives.  Royalty 
 can  never  perish ;  because  the  partisans  of  the 
 Usurper  will  not  have  her,  because  she  is  true, 
 as  they  do  not  love  the  King,  because  he  is  le- 
 gimate.     France  wishes  for  the  Catholic  Reli- 
 
(  110  ) 
 
 gion,  because  this  Religion  is  so  accommodated 
 to  her  wants,  to  her  genius  and  her  character, 
 so  harmonizes  with  her  happj  quaHties,  or  her 
 natural  defects,  that  every  other  would  be  in 
 contradiction  with  her;  that  she  could  not  di- 
 vorce her,  without  repudiating  herself,  without 
 renouncing  her  fairest  titles  of  grandeur  and 
 of  glory;  and  because  we  should  soon  cease  to 
 be  Frenchmen,  if  we  should  cease  to  be  Catholic. 
 
 And  indeed.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  a 
 people  of  lively  and  impetuous  passions,  natu- 
 rally swayed,  more  than  any  other  nation,  by  the 
 love  of  pleasures,  wants  a  worship  austere  and 
 repressive  by  the  severity  of  its  moral,  the  neces- 
 sity of  its  expiations,  the  abnegation  it  prescribes, 
 and  the  practises  of  mortification  it  imposes. 
 
 For  an  inconstant  people,  amorous  of  novelty, 
 and  greedy  of  ambitious  pursuits,  there  must 
 needs  be  established  a  worship,  whose  ruling 
 principle  is  authority,  whose  foundation  is  faith, 
 whose  first  dogma  is  belief,  whose  first  law  is 
 submission  ;  and  which,  by  repelling  this  private 
 spirit,  the  parent  of  discord  and  the  child  of 
 pride,  shall  curb  this  boundless  curiosity,  this 
 dangerous  thirst  of  knowledge,  which  the  mind 
 mistakes  for  its  strength,  and  which  is  nolhing 
 else  but  its  weakness. 
 
(  111  ) 
 
 For  a  light  and  frivolous  people,  there  must 
 needs  be  a  worship,  which,  bj  the  multitude  of 
 its  rites  and  precepts,  shall  unceasingly  recall  to 
 mind  the  multitude  of  their  duties,  and  by  that 
 means  bring  them  back,  and  fix  them  in  the 
 circle  of  social  order. 
 
 A  sensitive  people,  gifted  with  a  lively  imagi- 
 nation, has  need  of  a  worship  at  once  noble  and 
 animated,  which,  by  the  pomp  of  its  festivals, 
 the  holy  joy  of  its  solemnities,  and  the  majesty 
 of  its  liturgy,  shall  procure  for  the  great  and 
 little,  the  rich  and  poor,  useful  and  innocent  re- 
 laxations^ at  the  same  time  that  it  presents  to  the 
 mind  great  images,  to  the  heart  great  sentiments, 
 and  to  the  eye  a  grand  and  imposing  spectacle. 
 
 A  people,  friend  of  the  arts,  should  have  a 
 worship  that  should  honour  and  encourage  the 
 arts,  and  favour  their  progress,  by  making  their . 
 productions  serve  to  the  magnificence  of  the 
 Temples,  and  the  decoration  of  the  Altars,  and 
 thus  conduct  them  to  that  perfection,  which  con- 
 tributes so  much  to  the  splendour  of  a  great 
 Empire. 
 
 A  people  of  great  talents  needs  a  worship^  at 
 once  tender  and  marvellous,  alive  with  hope 
 and  with  love,  source  inexhaustible  of  sublime 
 beauties  and  high  conceptions;  and  which,  thus 
 gloriously  distinguished  from  all  others,  by  the 
 
(  112  ) 
 
 crowd  of  eloquent  orators  and  illustrious  wri- 
 ters created  by  its  august  inspirations,  shall 
 prove,  that  to  such  worship  alone  belongs  sound 
 literature  and  sound  doctrine  ;  that  it  not  less 
 enlarges  the  dominion  of  genius  than  that  of 
 morality,  and  that  in  it  alone  is  to  be  found  the 
 treasure  of  true  talents  and  the  true  promise. 
 
 In  short,  a  nation  naturally  monarchical,  and 
 the  lover  of  its  Kings,  needs  a  worship  favour- 
 able to  Royalty  and  essentially  monarchical ;  a 
 worship- which  excludes  the  people  from  the 
 formation  of  its  laws,  to  associate  them  to  its 
 advantages  only,  and  which  is  only  popular 
 by  its  charity  ;  a  worship  which  is  called  a 
 Royal  Priesthood,  (1 )  and  is  in  fact  Royal  in 
 its  spirit,  in  its  discipline,  in  all  the  forms  of  its 
 government;  Royal  in  its  Episcopacy,  which 
 itself  owns  a  King  and  Sovereign  Pontiff,  whose 
 power  is  attempered  by  the  canons,  as  the  kingly 
 power  by  the  laws. 
 
 Thus,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  to  take 
 those  things  in  a  human  view,  and  it  is  only  in 
 this  sense  we  consider  them,  humanum  dico,  (2) 
 independently  of  the  other  great  motives,  which 
 prove  the  truth  of  our  Religion  marked  with 
 the  seal  of  the  Divinity  itself,  we  have  the  right 
 
 (1)  I.   Pet.  II,  9.  (2)  Rom.  VI,   19. 
 
(113) 
 
 to  say,  ihat  Religion  is  the  greatest  favour  a 
 propitious  Providence  could  ever  bestow  on  our 
 country ;  because  Religion  is  more  suitable  to 
 ber  than  to  any  other  country  in  the  world, 
 more  analogous  to  her  manners,  more  adapted 
 to  her  wants,  more  conformable  to  her  genius ; 
 and  hence  it  is,  that  the  greatest  misfortune  she 
 could  ever  experience,  would  be  to  lose  the 
 Catholic  Religion ;  whereas  she  would  thereby 
 lose,  with  the  respect  due  to  her  ancestors,  the 
 respect  she  owes  herself;  and  disfigure  her  na- 
 tional feature,  that  is  to  say,  every  thing  which 
 constitutes  a  nation,  its  stability,  its  safely,  its 
 strength,  and  its  grandeur. 
 
 But  what  I  shall  we  then  have  a  predominant 
 Rehgion  ?  Such  is  the  question  which  will,  no 
 doubt,  be  put  to  us  by  certain  domineering- 
 leaders,  whom  the  very  name  of  domination 
 appalls,  unless  there  be  question  of  their  own, 
 and  who  have  but  too  sensibly  made  us  feel  its 
 smarts,  whenever  Heaven  in  its  wrath  has  per- 
 mitted them  to  exercise  it.  Thus  shall  we  be 
 questioned  by  those  levellers  of  Religion,  de- 
 scended in  right  line  from  those  levellers  of 
 property,  who,  in  haughtily  arrogating  to  them- 
 selves the  exclusive  honour  o^"  reason  and  of 
 thought,  can   no   longer  suffer  any  to  aspire  to 
 
 II 
 
(  114  ) 
 
 the  exclusive  honour  of  orthodoxy  and  of  truth  ; 
 those  men,  who  still  call  themselves  a  power, 
 and  who  plj  every  spring,  in  order  that  there 
 may  be  in  France  no  other  prevailing  Religion, 
 save  their  sect  and  their  Philosophy ;  who  Avish 
 for  no  predominant  Religion,  because  they  still 
 wish  to  see  Religion,  as  under  their  rule,  suffer- 
 ing and  dependant ;  and  who,  no  longer  able  to 
 persecute  it  by  open  violence,  wish  at  least,  by  a 
 more  refined  cruelty,  to  persecute  it  under  hand 
 by  humiliation  and  misery.  They  affect  to  con- 
 found a  predominant  Religion  with  one  of  per- 
 secution ;  as  if  Religion  did  not  condemn  per- 
 secution, as  if,  in  detesting  errors,  she  did  not 
 prescribe  the  support  and  protection  of  persons; 
 as  if,  in  order  not  to  persecute,  it  w^ere  neces- 
 sary to  grant  to  all  equal  honour  and  favour  ;  as 
 if  it  were  tyranny  and  intolerance,  not  to  put  on 
 the  same  line  the  stranger  and  the  child  of  the 
 family,  the  ancient  heir  and  the  new  possessor, 
 the  minister  of  truth  and  that  of  error,  the  Pon- 
 tiff who  succeeds  to  the  Apostles,  and  those  who 
 succeed  to  none. 
 
 What  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  we 
 wish  that  our  King'  w^ere  above  all  other  Kings  ; 
 that  our  sciences  and  arts  should  excel  those  of 
 all  other  countries  j  that  our  institutions  should 
 
(   115  ) 
 
 exceed  in  wisdom  and  public  utility  all  other 
 institutions ;  that  our  military  glory  should  sur- 
 pass (alas  I  it  has  but  too  much  surpassed)  all 
 other  military  fame  ;  and  we  would  not  wdsh, 
 that  our  worship  should  surpass  that  of  every 
 other  creed ;  and  we  could  deem  it  just,  that  a 
 worship,  at  once  the  most  noble,  the  most  pure, 
 the  most  ancient,  and  the  best  adapted  to  our 
 country,  should  enjoy  no  pre-eminence  over  a 
 worship  of  yesterday,  at  once  the  most  obscure, 
 and,  perhaps,  the  most  superstitious.  Then  deem 
 it  unseemly,  that  God  should  call  himself  the 
 greatest  of  all  Gods,  (1)  and,  if  you  dare  it, 
 forbid  him  to  name  himself  the  jealous  God.  (2) 
 Yes,  jealous  of  the  honour  of  his  worship,  as  of 
 our  love  ;  of  the  honour  of  his  w^ord,  as  of  our 
 homages ;  jealous  of  reigning  alone,  as  it  is  by 
 Him  alone  that  reign  all  others.  Has  he  not  said, 
 that  He  would  not  give  his  glory  to  another  P  (3) 
 The  glory  of  truth  to  error  and  bes  ;  the  glory 
 of  antiquity,  to  profane  innovations;  the  glory 
 of  his  Apostles  and  legates  to  adulterous  pastors 
 and  false  prophets?  A  predominant  Religion  is 
 then  but  a  mere  bug-bear,  with  which  free- 
 thinkers affright  the  feeble  ones. 
 
 (1)  Ps.  XCIX,  3.  (2)  Exod.  XX,  5. 
 
 (3)  Isaias  XLII,  S. 
 
(  416  ) 
 
 And  surely,  Oiir  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  she 
 must  predoniinale  in  the  Stale,  as  Heaven  over 
 Earth,  as  the  day-star  over  all  other  stars,  as  light 
 over  darkness.  She  must  prevail,  Ijecause  nothing 
 is  more  calculated  than  religious  unity  to  recall  to 
 social  union,  the  great  and  invariable  end  of 
 every  Government  that  understands  its  real  in- 
 terests ;  because  the  unity  of  Religion  is  not  less 
 necessary  than  unity  of  power,  and  the  multi- 
 plicity of  religious  professions  can  only  enfeeble 
 the  links  of  society,  by  relaxing  those  of  mora- 
 lity ;  and  because  Religion  is  never  more  useful 
 and  efficacious,  never  inspires  the  people  with 
 greater  veneration  and  attachment,  never  obtains 
 a  stronger  sway  over  the  heart  and  mind,  than 
 when  she  is  one,  and  thereby  fortifies  and  at- 
 tracts, whereas  plurality  weakens  and  disunites. 
 She  must  prevail,  because  that  state  is  properly 
 speaking  without  Religion,  which  recognises 
 none,  and  it  would  recognise  none,  if  ithonoured 
 all,  indiscriminately,  with  the  same  privileges 
 and  an  equal  share  of  veneration  ;  so  that  it 
 would  become  thereby  the  first  accomphee  of 
 public  corruption,  bj  giving  the  fatal  example 
 of  religious  neutrality,  and  of  that  indifference 
 for  all  creeds,  which  is  the  bane  of  morals,  and 
 the  death-stroke  of  every  virtue.     In  a  word, 
 
she  must  predominate,  because  this  undefined 
 admission,  this  naturalization  of  every  Religion, 
 already  existing,  or  yet  to  come,  would  in  truth 
 only  be  a  sufficient  impulse  given  to  each,  to 
 fritter  away  the  others,  and  the  surest  means  of 
 echpsing  all;  and  because,  in  short,  the  unli- 
 mited protection  of  all  false  religions  is  at  bottom 
 but  the  contempt,  the  derision,  and  persecution 
 of  the  true  one. 
 
 Yes,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  the  perse- 
 cution of  the  true.  And  is  it  not  what  we  our- 
 selves have  witnessed  at  the  moment  when  tole- 
 ration was  most  loudly  proclaimed  ?  This  is  the 
 persecution,  which  the  Catholic  Rebgion  has 
 undergone  by  those  pretended  organic  laws, 
 enacted  merely  to  disorganize  her  own  laws ;  by 
 those  fetters  thrown  unceasingly  over  Episcopal 
 instruction ;  by  the  subjection  of  Ecclesiastical 
 Schools  ;  by  this  forced  catechism,  sullied  with 
 the  stamp  of  tyranny  ;  by  the  scandalous  cessa- 
 tion of  her  most  beautiful  and  most  touching  so- 
 lemnities ;  by  those  penal  laws,  which  shackle 
 religious  administration,  but  more  than  indulgent 
 wlien  there  is  question  of  the  sacrilegious  and 
 the  impious,  but  worthy  of  Tiberius,  when  there 
 is  question  of  Priests;  laws,  at  once  afflicting 
 and  injurious  to  the  Religion  of  St.  Lewis,  and 
 
(  118  ) 
 
 which  no  doubt  shall  disappear  under  the  reign 
 of  his  august  decendants  ;    laws,  impolitic  by 
 dint  of  audacity,  because  they  have  betrayed  the 
 secret  of  this  hypocritical  toleration,  which,  ever 
 praised  but  never  defined,  always  moderate  in 
 principle  and  always  bold  in  application,  has 
 gone  on  from  enterprise  to  enterprise,  and  has 
 finished  by  changing  the  predominant  Religion 
 into  one  cruelly  domineered  ;   so  that  we  can 
 now  say,  that  in  the  letter,  as  well  as  in  the  spirit 
 of  the  code  which  governs  us,  we  see  nothing 
 protected  and  truly  independent  but  whatever 
 is  not  the  Catholic  Religion  :  so  true  it  is,  that  we 
 know  not  where  to  stop,  when  once  we  have 
 abandoned  the  great  principle  of  religious  unity  I 
 so  evident  it  is,  that  if  there  be  a  toleration  just 
 and  rational,   conformable   to  the   interests  of 
 society  and  sound  policy;  and  compatible  with 
 the  tenets  of  morality,  there  is  another  toleration 
 dangerous  and  fatal  to  that  same  society,  and 
 that  is  the  Religion  cf  those  who  have  none. 
 So  easy  it  is  to  see,    that,   as  there  is    a  false 
 liberty,  a  false  humanity,  a    false   Philosophy, 
 there  may  also   exist  a  false  toleration,  which 
 would  be  but  a  new  medium,  and  a  more  able 
 combination  of  destruction,  a  new  arm  of  im- 
 piety to  forward  its  plan  of  tormenting  the  Ca- 
 
(  119  ) 
 
 tholic  Religion  hj  secret  evils,  if  it  dares  not 
 attack  her  openly,  and,  as  they  say  it,  hand  to 
 hand;  of  injuring  her  alone,  whilst  it  appears 
 to  defend  all,  and  of  thus  pushing  her  more 
 surely  ofF  the  scene  by  simply  tolerating  her  ex- 
 istence than  by  decreeing  her  death. 
 
 We  shall  then.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 have  a  predominantReligion,  as  have  had  before 
 us  all  ages  and  every  people,  as  all  the  civilized 
 nations  still  have  it,  as  we  ourselves  have  enjoy- 
 ed it  from  the  very  cradle  of  the  French  monar- 
 chy :  that  is  a  National  Religion,  as  it  is  that  of 
 the  greatest  portion,  not  to  say  the  totality  of  our 
 countrymen  ;  the  R,eiigion  of  the  Sovereign,  and 
 hence  encouraged  and  honoured  as  such  ;  the 
 Religion  of  the  State,  and  hence  not  tolerated, 
 but  privileged,  but  defended,  but  maintained 
 and  established,  as  the  State  itself,  for  the  greater 
 good  of  the  Slate,  which  finds  in  her  its  firmest 
 prop  and  most  noble  guardian. 
 
 And  what  could  we  have  understood  from 
 the  Most  Christian  King,  the  Eldest  Son  of  the 
 Church,  when  He  solemnly  promised  us  from 
 the  throne  to  make  Religion  rejlowish,  if  it  be 
 not  the  Catholic  Religion,  that  is  to  say,  the 
 Religion  which  had  flourished  so  many  ages 
 amongst  us  ;  with  which  our  greatest  men,  our 
 
(  120  ) 
 
 most  learned  Schools,  our  hospitals,  all  our  es- 
 tablishments of  instruction  and  public  benevo- 
 lence have  flourished  more  than  in  any  other 
 nation,  and  which  could  not  be  overturned  but 
 with  the  Monarchy  itself?  What  means  to  make 
 Religion  rejlourish? 
 
 It  means,  to  give  her  a  title  to  existence,  by 
 giving  her  the  right  of  possession  ;  to  restore  to 
 her,  not  indeed  the  splendid  patrimony ,  be- 
 queathed her  by  our  fathers,  but  those  its  last 
 remains,  now  doubly  sacred,  as  they  are  still  the 
 property  of  God  and  of  the  poor. 
 
 Make  Religion  rejlourish,  is  to  restore  to  her 
 degraded  altars  their  ancient  lustre,  to  her  Mi- 
 nisters, that  authority  they  want,  in  order  to  do 
 good,  and  that  independence,  without  which 
 they  cannot  do  it ;  that  thus,  as  Isaias  says,  they 
 may  be  truly  called,  the  Priests  of  the  Lord,  and 
 the  Minister's  of  God.  (1 )  Ministers  of  the  poor, 
 that  they  may  assist  them  ;  of  the  afflicted,  that 
 they  may  console  them  j  of  the  weak,  to  support 
 them  ;  of  the  ignorant,  to  instruct  them  ;  rejlou- 
 rish, that  is  to  say,  resuscitate,  by  the  vigour  of 
 the  sacred  Canons  and  the  choice  of  worthy 
 Pontiffs,  this  illustrious  Gallican  Church,    for- 
 
 (1)  Isai.  iXI,  6. 
 
h 
 
 (  121   ) 
 
 merly  the  ornament  of  France,  by  her  precious 
 services;  the  ornament  of  Christendom,  (1 )  by  her 
 lights  and  virtues,  and  whose  majesty  so  well 
 corresponded  with  the  majesty  of  the  empire. 
 
 What  !  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  we 
 wish  that  commerce  and  industry,  the  arts  and 
 sciences  should  reflourish.  We  wish  to  see  re- 
 established discipline  in  our  armies,  justice  in  our 
 tribunals,  order  m  the  administration,  and  we 
 should  not  wish  to  see  reflourish  Religion,  first 
 source  of  all  discipline,  of  all  order  and  all  jus- 
 tice ?  We  should  not  wish  to  see  her  arise  from 
 amidst  those  ruins,  under  which  she  is  buried, 
 and,  with  her  ancient  glory,  re-assume  her  as- 
 cendency, in  order  to  repress  vices  and  give 
 life  to  every  virtue  ?  No,  no.  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  Religion  must  reflourish,  or 
 the  stem  of  our  monarchy  must  languish  and 
 wither ;  she  must  reflourish,  or  France  must 
 perish  and  crumble  to  her  last  foundation ;  for 
 it  is  written  :  euery  people  and  every  kingdom 
 not  serving  God  must  perish.  (2) 
 
 It  is  the  oracle  of  eternal  truth,  the  word  of 
 the  living  God,  who  sweareth  by  Himself,  and 
 
 (1)  Bossuet,  Sermon  on  the  Unity,  etc. 
 
 (2)  Isai.  LX,  12. 
 
(   122  ) 
 
 all  our  vain  murmurs  will  not  save  us.  Eternal 
 order  will  thus  have  it.  Thus  have  perished  the 
 most  powerful  monarchies  of  the  world,  and  all 
 the  ages  that  have  gone  before  us  stand  up  at 
 once  to  attest  to  the  world,  that  every  state, 
 which  abandons  God,  is  by  Him  abandoned  in 
 his  turn. 
 
 And  now,  sublime  politicians,  great  regene- 
 rators of  nations  and  of  governments,  who  deal 
 out  your  national  charters  with  the  same  extem- 
 poraneous facility  as  your  discourses  and  your 
 books;  you,  who  poise  with  so  much  art  your 
 social  edifice,  that  to  support  it  you  think  you 
 need  no  aid,  not  even  that  of  God  ;  multiply  as 
 much  as  you  will  your  theories  and  your  systems, 
 choose  your  weights  and  counter-poises — vain 
 attempts  and  senseless  enterprise  !     Whatever 
 equilibrium  you  shall  give  to  your  powers,  you 
 shall  never  establish  any  in   the  passions ;  you 
 siiall  no  more  dispose  of  wills  than  of  events ; 
 you  shall  never  be  wiser  than  nature,  nor  more 
 foresighted  than  Providence.     You  maybe  able 
 to  give  to  your  work  every  thing  else  save  the 
 breath  of  life,  and  this  artificial  masterpiece  of 
 your  hands,   not   bearing  on  the  eternal  basis, 
 shall  totter  at  the   first  shock,  and  crush  you 
 under  its  own  ruins. 
 
(  123  ) 
 
 You  shall  also  hear  it,  and  you  are  capable  oC 
 comprelientling  it ;  you,  whom  the  Nation  has 
 invested  with  its  confidence,  and  who,  by  the 
 calmness  of  your  deliberations,  and  the  wisdom 
 of  your  measures,  show  us  each  day  how  much 
 you  are  worthy  of  it.  If  you  do  not  place  Reli- 
 gion at  the  head  of  the  laws,  as  the  fundamental 
 law,  if  she  does  not  preside  over  your  institu- 
 tions^ as  God  over  the  universe  ;  if,  instead  of 
 re-establishing  her  promptly  and  efficaciously, 
 you  resorted  to  expedients,  not  less  unworthy  of 
 her  than  of  you ;  if,  yielding  perhaps  to  human 
 considerations,  to  the  suggestions  of  so  many 
 perverse  men,  who,  by  the  strangest  inversion 
 of  ideas,  look  upon  God  as  a  stranger  to  the  go- 
 vernment of  states,  and  Religion  as  a  public 
 calamity  which  must  be  proscribed,  or,  at  best, 
 tolerated  as  a  necessary  evil,  you  should  fear  to 
 give  her  too  much  power  and  preponderance ; 
 if,  not  daring  to  oppose  her  as  a  wall  of  brass 
 to  this  deluge  of  corruption  and  impiety,  which 
 carries  away  all,  you  composed  with  this  same 
 corruption,  which  you  should  cure,  and  with  this 
 impiety,  which  you  should  conquer,  and  thus, 
 by  an  error,  as  fatal  as  inexcusable,  you  lost  the 
 moment  of  mercy  Heaven  still  leaves  you,  to 
 
(124) 
 
 come  forth  again  to  life;  (1)  if  so,  we  shall  say 
 to  you,  as  the  Apostle,  with  sorrow  and  with 
 tears,  that  new  torrents  shall  overflow  and  break 
 down  every  mound.  It  is  then  that  hell,  as  the 
 Prophet  says  it,  shall  dilate  its  abysses  (2)  to  put 
 forth  new  disorders,  and  extend,  if  possible,  the 
 limits  of  human  perversity  ;  then,  as  in  the  days 
 of  Sion's  desolation,  the  sword  of  the  stranger 
 should  slay  us  ;  (3)  then  ruin  should  succeed  to 
 ruin,  revolutions  should  call  on  revolutions,  and 
 the  French  Nation,  struck  beyond  remedy,  should 
 only  serve  as  an  example  of  instruction  and 
 terror  to  all  others. 
 
 But  no  :  the  word  of  our  august  Monarch  shall 
 be  accomplished,  and  ihe  Catholic  Religion  shall 
 reflourisb,  and  wilh  her  the  oracle  of  the  Holy 
 Ghost  shall  be  fulfilled,  that  everj  people  which 
 shall  observe  the  law  of  God  shall  prosper  ;  (4) 
 and  this  other :  ReligioTi  holds  in  her  right  hand 
 length  of  days,  and  in  her  left  riches  and 
 glory;  (5)  and  this  other  :  the  multitude  of  vir- 
 tuous and  faithful  men  are  the  health  and  safety 
 of  the  universe.  (6)  She  will  reflourish,  and  with 
 
 (1)  Philip.  Ill,  18.  (2)  Isai.  V,  lA. 
 
 (3)  Jerem.  XX.  \h)  Prov.  XXIX,  18. 
 
 (5)  Prov.  Ill,  IG.  (6)  Wisd.  VJ,  26. 
 
(  125  ) 
 
 her  public  honest^y^  and  good  faith,  benevolence 
 and  justice,  good  children,  good  spouses,  good 
 magistrates,  true  heroes,  still  more  alive  to  ho- 
 nour than  to  glory ;  with  her,  shall  disappear 
 those  scandalous  marriages,  unconsecrated  hy 
 Religion,  and  this  hideous  divorce,  which  stains 
 our  legislation,  insults  our  morals  and  braves  our 
 faith  ;  with  her.  Public  Instruction  shall  divest 
 itself  of  every  alloy  which  might  tarnish  its  pu- 
 rity; with  her,  the  throne  of  St.  Louis  shall  con- 
 solidate itself  l?y  truth  andmercj,  (1)  and  like 
 that  of  David,  shall  last  as  long  as  the  sun,  (2)  for 
 the  eternal  repose  of  France  and  of  the  world  : 
 and  this  land  of  misery  and  desolation,  where  we 
 now  behold  only  thorns  and  brambles  and  bitter 
 wild-fruits,  shall  see  once  more  the  days  of  her 
 fruitfulness  and  her  abundance,  shall  become 
 once  more  as  a  warter-ed  and  fertile  garden,  (3) 
 her  ruins  shall  be  consoled,  (4)  and  as  the  Prophet 
 again  has  it,  she  shall  bloom  once  more  like  the 
 lily :  (5)  etjlorebit  quasi  liliuni. 
 
 The  false  sages  of  the  world  will  no  doubt 
 find  our  views  very  narrow  and  our  principles 
 
 (1)  Prov.  XX,  28.  (2)  Psal.  LXXI,  5. 
 
 (3)  Isal.  LVIII,  2.  (A)  Isai.  LV,  3. 
 
 (5)  Isai.  XXXV,  1. 
 
( '>'-^^ ) 
 
 superannuated.  We  arc  far  from  blushing  at 
 this  reproach,  and  God  forbid  that  we  shouhl 
 ever  share  with  ihem  this  rage  of  novelty  which 
 has  ruined  and  still  torments  cfur  unfortunate 
 country.  And  who  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  shall  be  the  enenaies  of  innovations 
 if  not  the  Ancients  of  the  Sanctuary,  if  not  the 
 Bishops,  those  guardians  of  the  old  traditions 
 and  of  the  primitive  truths?  And  what  Gospel 
 do  we  preach  to  you,  if  not  the  eternal  Gos- 
 pel P  (1)  What  Religion  do  we  announce  to 
 you,  but  that  which  descends  from  the  eternal 
 hills,  (2)  and  which,  born  before  the  daj- 
 star,  (3)  like  the  wisdom  of  God,  owns  not  the 
 law  of  changes  ?  Ah  !  no  doubt,  they  are  not 
 superannuated,  not  worn  with  the  rust  of  pre- 
 judices, all  those  architects  of  ruin,  all  those 
 ephemeral  innovators,  who,  born  but  yester- 
 day, are  not  sure  to  live  till  the  morrow ;  but 
 yet  they  are  the  scourges  of  the  earth,  and  the 
 enemies  of  the  human  race.  And  how  other- 
 wise shall  we  name  those  senseless  wretches, 
 who  in  order,  forsooth,  to  remedy  certain 
 abuses,  have  destroyed  every  rule,  and  to  lop 
 
 (1)  Apoc.  XIV,  6.  (2)   Psal.  CIX,   S. 
 
 (3)  Psal.  LXXV,  5. 
 
(127  ) 
 
 the  tree,  liave  put  the  axe  to  its  very  root ; 
 who  have  proposed  to  us  to  renounce  all  our 
 past  and  all  our  remembrances,  and  thus  to 
 disinherit  us,  of  all  the  nobility  of  our  history, 
 all  the  lessons  of  experience  and  all  the  gifts 
 of  time?  We  should,  indeed,  be  new,  or 
 rather  strange  novices  in  the  march  and  know- 
 ledge of  human  things,  not  to  know  that  the 
 less  any  thing  holds  to  the  past,  (1)  the  less  it 
 is  sure  of  the  future  ;  that  empires  live  only  in 
 the  future  ;  that  in  politics,  as  well  as  in  Reli- 
 gion, we  are  saved  only  by  the  belief  of  the 
 future,  and  that  the  true  legislators,  as  well  as 
 the  true  Christians  labour  only  for  eternity. 
 
 Far  from  us  then  all  those  blasphemers  of 
 eternal  reason,  who,  in  their  senseless  pride, 
 dare  to  speak  to  us  continually  of  modern  rea- 
 son^ who  wish  to  push  back  the  ancient  ages 
 and  who  pretend  that  the  human  mind  cannot 
 retrograde,  who  in  their  ceaseless  changes  fondly 
 tell  us,  that  they  displace  every  land-mark  in 
 order  that  nothing  may  hereafter  change.  In- 
 consistent with  themselves,  they  give  us  their 
 doubts,  their  changes,  their  hesitation  as  the 
 first  principles  of  things.     They   boast  to   us 
 
 (1)  Bossuet,  Polit.  Sac. 
 
(  128  ) 
 
 continually  of  the  progress  of  our  lights;  but 
 yet  they  despise  us  sufficiently  to  tell  us,  that 
 they  are  labouring  for  our  civilization,  and  in- 
 deed they  have  need  to  labour,  for,  thanks 
 to  their  learned  lessons,  they  have  brought  us  to 
 the  verge  of  the  savage  life. 
 
 For  our  parts.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 we  shall  not  cease  to  repeat  to  you  vv^hat  Moses 
 said  to  his  people  :  Ask  your  ancestors  and 
 the  God  of  your  fathers  and  go  hack  to  the 
 source.  (1 )  Think  that  the  less  we  wander 
 from  the  beaten  paths,  the  more  shall  we  be 
 secure;  think  that  social  order  never  marches 
 better  than  when  we  leave  in  the  shade  those 
 rights  of  people  and  of  Kings,  the  very  obscu- 
 rity of  which  constitutes  their  strength ;  that 
 there  exists  in  the  foundations  of  Empires,  I 
 know  not  what  secret  mystery,  that  requires  a 
 blind  faith,  and  by  dint  of  digging  them  we  find 
 an  abyss  ;  think  in  fine,  that,  to  despise  the  au- 
 thority of  ages,  is  to  despise  the  authority  of 
 God,  because  it  is  God  himself  that  has  made 
 antiquity,  and  that  to  renounce  it,  were  it  not 
 even  the  last  misfortune,  would  be  at  least  the 
 greatest  of  crimes. 
 
 (I)  Dcul.  XXXII,  7. 
 
(  129  ) 
 
 We  feel  it,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 and  never  did  God  before  more  strikingly  sig- 
 nalize his  vengeance  on  this  insolent  disdain. 
 Listen  to  his  Prophet  :  They  have  violated  their 
 ovv^n  laws,  fruit  of  the  wisdom  of  ages,  and 
 clad  with  the  seal  of  time.  Transgressi  sunt 
 leges.  (1)  They  have  changed  the  public  law 
 and  ancient  statutes  which  ruled  their  Fathers; 
 iniitaverunt  jus  :  they  have  broken  the  solemn 
 pact  and  the  eternal  alliance  which  united  the 
 Prince  and  his  Subjects,  the  Father  and  his 
 Children,  dissipaverunt  foedus  sempiternum  :  and 
 hence  have  I  struck  their  land  with  malediction; 
 the  country  shall  be  infected  by  the  corruption 
 of  its  inhabitants ;  (2)  those  who  cultivate  it 
 shall  become  senseless,  and  shall  experience 
 misfortunes  as  unexampled  as  their  crimes,  as 
 new  and  strang'e  as  their  own  thoughts ;  fruc- 
 tum  cogitationuni  ejus.  (3)  O  Prophecy,  too 
 visibly  accomplished  I  see  what  we  have  be- 
 come ;  to  whom  do  we  resemble,  if  not  to 
 those  nations  spoken  of  by  the  Prophet,  who 
 walk  giddy  and  as  it  were  drunk  with  wine,  (/i) 
 no  longer  knowing  where  to  stop,  or  how  to 
 
 (1)  Isai.  XXIV,  5.  (2)  Ibid.  6. 
 
 .    (3)  Jerem.  VI,  19.  (A)  Jorem.  LI,  7. 
 
(  130  ) 
 
 recover,  nor  even  recognising  themselves.  Was 
 there  ever  a  stale  more  undefinable  than  om^s? 
 No  longer  an  ancient  people,  and  not  even  a 
 new  people;  no  longer  holding  to  the  past 
 which  we  have  repudiated,  nor  to  the  future 
 which  nothing  guarantees  to  us ;  no  longer 
 able  to  become  what  we  have  been,  no  longer 
 knowing  what  we  would  be,  in  short,  without 
 ancestors  or  posterity,  what  are  we  save  an  in- 
 conceivable chimera,  disavowed  alike  hy  Heaven 
 and  by  Earth. 
 
 Thus,  Oup  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  since  our 
 first  Father,  has  God  ever  punished  pride  by 
 humiliation,  and  false  wisdom  by  the  spirit  of 
 fatuity.  Alas  !  we  had  imagined  after  his  ex- 
 ample that  Tve  should  become  Gods,  free,  inde- 
 pendent, immortal,  knowing  good  and  evil,  (1) 
 and  yet  scarcely  have  we  touched  the  forbidden 
 fruit,  that  is  the  altars  of  our  God  and  the  throne 
 of  our  King,  but  far  from  becoming  as  Gods,  vve 
 have  sunk  even  below  the  level  of  man.  If,  at 
 least,  we  had  afterwards  made  some  serious  re- 
 flexions on  ourselves,  and  that  a  great  chastise- 
 ment had  brought  on  a  great  repentance  ;  if  we 
 had  opened  our  eyes,  as  Adam  after  his  sin  ;  if, 
 
 (1)  Genes.  Ill,  5. 
 
(  131   ) 
 
 like  him,  we  knew  how  to  blush  at  our  naked- 
 ness and  moral  penury,  far  more  deplorable  than 
 the  poverty  of  our  resources,  as  the  one  only 
 causes  our  misery,  but  the  other  our  shame;  if, 
 like  him,  we  said  in  the  bitterness  of  our  hearts, 
 it  is  the  serpent  that  deceived  us,  it  is  the  demon 
 of  philosophy  that  seduced  us  by  his  fair  pro- 
 mises and  perfidious  lures  :  serpens  decepit 
 me.  {\ )  But  no  ;  our  pride,  far  from  being  broken 
 down,  continually  arises,  (2)  like  that  of  the  im- 
 pious spoken  of  in  the  Scriptures,  and  when  we 
 speak  to  you  of  your  errors  and  your  follies,  you 
 speak  only  of  your  lights  ;  and  when  they  re- 
 proach us  with  the  greatest  treacheries,  and  the 
 most  coward  disloyalty  that  ever  dishonoured  a 
 nation,  we  only  speak  of  our  glory.  (3)  We  say, 
 indeed  :  Woe  are  we,  because  our  cities  are 
 consumed,  and  our  lands  are  wasted,  and  for  a 
 long  time  we  shall  not  behold  the  prosperous 
 days  we  enjoyed  ;  but  we  do  not  say,  with  holy 
 Job,  woe  are  we  because  the  hand  of  God  hath 
 fallen  upon  us:  (4)  or  with  the  brethren  of 
 Joseph  :  miserable  that  we  are,  because  we  merit 
 our  misfortunes.  (5) 
 
 (1)  Genes.  Ill,  13.  (2)  Psal.  LXXIII,  23. 
 
 (3)  Jerem.  IV,  13.  (A)  Job.  XIX,  21. 
 
 (5)  Gen.  XLII,  21. 
 
(  132  ) 
 
 We  bewail  our  faults,  our  mistakes,  our  false 
 calculations  and  our  hopes  deceived ;  but  we  do 
 not  weep  over  our  disorders,  our  excesses,  and 
 those  crimes  as  nameless  as  unexampled.  We 
 lament  the  cruel  reprisals  exercised  against  us, 
 but  not  our  rash  aggressions,  and  our  unjust 
 provocations.  We  regret  the  loss  of  some 
 master-pieces  of  the  arts,  as  useless  to  our  hap- 
 piness as  to  our  glory ;  but  we  do  not  weep  over 
 those  sacred  monuments,  we  ourselves  have 
 broken  with  our  own  hands ;  over  those  august 
 temples,  raised  by  piety  and  genius,  which  have 
 fallen  under  the  stroke  of  a  barbarous  and  sa- 
 crilegious vandalism. 
 
 In  fine,  we  deplore  the  restoration  or  demo- 
 lition of  some  fortresses;  but  we  do  not  reflect 
 on  the  total  loss  of  public  morals,  the  true  cita- 
 dels of  the  State,  and  we  do  not  see,  that  it  is 
 in  vain  we  should  guard  the  gates  of  the  city,  if 
 the  Lord  be  not  their  sentinel ;  and  we  forget, 
 that  our  frontiers  are  still  better  defended  by 
 Religion  than  by  our  armies. 
 
 Let  us  speak  out :  in  a  word,  we  are  irritated 
 but  not  converted,  crushed  but  not  corrected ; 
 humbled,  and  we  do  not  see  that  we  ourselves 
 are  our  greatest   humiliation ;  (1)  such  is   our 
 
 (1)  Mich.  V,  U. 
 
(  133  ) 
 
 boundless  perversity,  which  confounds  crime 
 and  virtue,  and  w^hich,  according  to  the  caprice 
 of  our  opinions,  calls  good  evil,  and  evil  good.  (1 ) 
 Such  our  refined  depravitj>  w^hich  renders  us  vi- 
 cious still  less  bj  weakness  than  by  system,  and 
 which  admits  but  one  principle,  that  of  despising 
 all  others;  such  the  fanaticism  of  impiety,  which, 
 like  a  devouring  canker,  undermines  and  con- 
 sumes us;  and  in  fine,  this  shameful  triumph  of 
 public  immorality,  which  still  finds  public  abet- 
 tors. 
 
 Perhaps,  those  truths  shall  appear  hard  and 
 severe,  as  those  which  the  Saviour  announced 
 to  the  rebellious  and  impenitent  Jews  ;  but  to 
 whom  shall  we  announce  them,  if  not  to  men 
 who,  like  unto  those  spoken  of  by  Ezechiel, 
 harden  their  face  as  the  stone,  in  order  not  to 
 blush;  (2)  and  who,  powerful  ininiquitj,  glorify 
 themselves  in  their  malice.  (3) 
 
 Yes,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  we  must 
 announce  those  truths,  because  truth  alone  shall 
 deliver  us,  (4)  and  there  only  slaves  exist  where 
 truth  is  not  heard.  We  must  announce  them  to 
 a  blind  nation,  that  still  loves  its  own  misery, 
 and  chooses  rather  to  be  punished  than  enlight- 
 
 (1)  Isai.  V,  20.  (2)  Jerem.  V,  3. 
 
 (3)  Ps.  LI,  3.  (A)  John  VIII,  32. 
 
(  134  ) 
 
 ened.  Wc  must  announce  ihem,  because  wc 
 live  in  a  frivolous  and  distracted  age,  which  for- 
 gets all,  and  which  should  be  reminded  of  all : 
 because  we  must  instruct  the  children,  if  their 
 fathers  do  not  wish  to  open  their  own  eyes  to 
 the  light.  Let  us,  at  least,  endeavour  to  form 
 the  future  generations,  and  teach  them  to  profit 
 of  our  cruel  experience,  if  the  present  does  not 
 wish  to  receive  the  terrific  lessons  with  which 
 Heaven  instructs  us.  Scribantur  hcec  in  genera- 
 tione  altera,  (1 )  ^ 
 
 How  shall  we  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, better  terminate  our  instruction,  than  by 
 the  advice  given  us  by  the  Apostle,  to  fear  God 
 and  honour  the  King.  (2)  It  is  one  of  those 
 simple  and  profound  maxims  where  we  find 
 every  thing,  and  which  says  all  in  a  single  word. 
 Fear  God,  it  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom,  and 
 honour  the  King,  it  is  the  perfection  of  policy.  (3) 
 
 Fear  God,  it  is  what  makes  the  perfect  man  j 
 honour  the  King,  it  is  what  makes  the  accom- 
 plished Frenchman.  (4)  Fear  God  ;  and  he  is  not 
 feared  if  the  King  be  not  honoured  :  and  the 
 King  is  not  honoured,  if  God  be  not  feared. 
 
 (1)  Ps.  CI,  19.  (2)  I.  Petr.  II,  19. 
 
 (3)  Ps.CXI,  10.  (A)  Eccles.  XII,  IS. 
 
(135) 
 
 Admirable  and  truly  divine  policy,  which  thus 
 confounding  the  duties  of  Christians  and  citizens, 
 the  service  of  the  Prince  and  of  the  Eternal, 
 seems  to  share  with  the  Empires  of  the  Earth 
 the  immortahty  of  the  Heavenly  Kingdom. 
 
 It  is  by  penetrating  ourselves,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  with  this  holy  maxim,  that  we 
 can  truly  say,  that  France  wishes  her  King  and 
 her  Religion  ;  her  King,  to  maintain  and  protect 
 Religion  against  the  attacks  of  the  impious  ;  and 
 her  Religion,  to  defend  and  protect  her  King 
 against  rebels.  Magnificent  alliance,  by  which 
 we  can  dispense  with  all  others,  and  with  which 
 we  have  nothing  to  fear  but  our  own  frailty.  But 
 of  what  advantage  would  it  be  to  wish  our  King, 
 if  we  did  not  render  ourselves  worthy  of  him  by 
 our  efforts  to  second  him,  and  of  all  the  miracles 
 that  have  restored  him  to  us,  by  an  unshaken 
 and  boundless  loyalty  ? 
 
 How  could  he  reform  the  State,  if  we  did  not 
 begin  by  reforming  ourselves  .'*  How  could  he 
 defend  us  abroad,  if  the  Nation  was  stung  at 
 heart  by  the  venom  of  licentious  doctrines,  and 
 by  that  leprosy  of  Atheism,  a  thousand  times 
 more  fatal  than  that  which  once  afflicted  our 
 fathers?  How  could  he,  did  he  even  possess  all 
 the   wisdom    of  Solomon,  all    the  courage  of 
 
(  136  ) 
 
 Daviil,  and  all  the  piety  of  Josias,  become  the 
 master  of  an  undisciplined  and  untoward  nation, 
 impatient  of  every  yoke,  discontent  with  all 
 except  herself,  easy  and  indulgent  when  there  is 
 question  of  her  own  interests,  and  thereby  the 
 more  difficult  and  exacting  for  her  King.  If  it  has 
 been  said,  that  we  should  be  gods  in  order  to 
 govern  men,  what  should  be  the  leader  of  this 
 new  race  of  beings,  that  count  as  many  opinions 
 as  members,  and  as  many  follies  as  opinions,  and 
 who,  having  no  other  public  spirit  than  their 
 private  interest,  and  a  base  egotism,  would  still 
 remain  as  perverse  and  immoral  as  the  Revolu- 
 tion that  created  them? 
 
 What  we  say.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 with  respect  to  our  King,  is  still  more  urgent 
 with  regard  to  our  Religion.  Where  is  the  ad- 
 vantage of  having  her  Ministers  pensioned,  her 
 sacred  schools  recovered,  her  altars  and  her 
 temples  raised  anew,  if  these  same  temples  are 
 deserted^  and  these  altars  abandoned;  if  the  sick 
 no  longer  present  themselves  to  be  washed  in 
 the  pool  :  if  to  this  deplorable  famine  of  the 
 word  of  God,  which  they  neglect  to  hear,  suc- 
 ceeded the  still  deplorable  contempt  of  this 
 same  word  they  should  no  longer  wish  to  hear; 
 if,   after  having  seen  the  flock  wandering  like 
 
(  137  ) 
 
 sheep  witliout  a  shepherd,  (1)  we  should  now 
 behold,  by  a  new  calamity,  the  Pastors  wander- 
 ing without  a  flock  ?  It  is  then,  indeed,  we 
 should  despair  of  the  safety  of  France:  our 
 state  would  become  worse  than  the  former ;  and 
 our  malady  the  more  incurable,  as  the  remedy 
 would  then  be  turned  into  poison,  and  the  prin- 
 ciple of  life  into  a  principle  of  death. 
 
 Let  us  then.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 rally  around  our  King  and  return  sincerely  to 
 our  God,  and  all  our  woes  shall  disappear  and 
 all  good  things  shall  come  at  once  to  us.  (2) 
 Retrenched  behind  this  double  rampart,  we 
 shall  be  stronger  than  ever,  and  we  shall  brave 
 at  once  the  enemies  of  within  and  the  enemies 
 of  without. 
 
 Tempered  anew  in  the  fire  of  adversity  and 
 the  crucible  of.  tribulations,  we  shall  gain  new 
 strength  by  what  we  shall  curtail  from  our 
 pleasures  and  our  luxuries.  Our  sacrifices  shall 
 turn  to  the  profit  of  our  morals,  and  misfor- 
 tunes even  to  our  glory ;  our  faults  shall  serve  as 
 lessons,  and  the  chastisements  of  Heaven  shall 
 become  signal  favours.  With  the  esteem  of 
 ourselves,  we  shall  reconquer  that  of  nations, 
 
 (1)  MarkYI,  3A.  (2)  Wisd.  VII,  11. 
 
(  138  ) 
 
 and,  after  having  been  their  shame  and  their 
 scourge,  we  shall  be  the  object  of  their  jealousy 
 and  imitation.  Yes,  we  shall  prove  to  the  world, 
 that  we  could  be  conquered,  but  not  humbled; 
 humbled,  but  not  cast  down  ;  and  that  our 
 France  could  want  nothing  as  long  as  she  shall 
 have  her  Religion  and  her  King  :  her  King,  to 
 serve  him  ;  her  Religion,  to  fulfil  her  precepts  ; 
 her  King,  to  repair  our  losses  and  heal  our 
 wounds ;  her  Religion,  to  strengthen  us  in  good, 
 and  the  practice  of  every  virtue ;  her  King,  to 
 assure  our  transitory  happiness  in  this  world, 
 and  her  Religion,  our  eternal  felicity  in  the 
 next. 
 
 Our  present  Pastoral  Instruction  shall  be  read 
 in  all  the  Churches  of  our  Diocess,  the  Sunday 
 after  its  reception.  On  account  of  its  length, 
 we  permit  our  Parish  Priests  and  Curates  to 
 divide  it  into  as  many  portions  as  they  shall 
 think  proper,  and  to  accompany  it  with  the 
 details  and  explanations,  they  shall  judge  useful 
 and  necessary  to  make  it  understood  by  their 
 auditors. 
 
 We  further  most  expressly  recommend  to  all 
 our  beloved  co-operators,  to  profit  of  this  occa- 
 sion to  warn  the  faithful  confided  to  them 
 against  those  false  and  perfidious  reports,  which 
 
(  139  ) 
 
 though  always  belied,  are  still  sent  abroad  with 
 new  audacity  by  the  guilty  emissaries  of  the 
 enemy.  It  will  be  easy  to  open  the  eyes  of 
 these  simple  people  that  may  have  fallen  into 
 the  snares  laid  for  their  credulity,  by  shewing 
 them,  that  this  artifice  is  the  last  sad  resource 
 of  a  faction  already  at  bay,  and  of  a  cause  for 
 ever  lost;  and  that  nothmg  can  give  them  a 
 better  idea  of  him  whom  we  may  justly  call 
 the  father  of  lies,  and  who  having  reigned  by 
 terror,  would  now  wish  at  least  to  trouble  our 
 repose  by  false  alarms,  and  to  console  himself 
 in  his  incapacity  to  dispose  at  his  whim  of  our 
 properties  and  of  our  blood,  by  hindering  us,  as 
 much  as  in  him  lies,  of  enjoying  in  peace  the 
 mild  and  beneficent  reign  under  which  we  have 
 the  happiness  to  live. 
 
 Given  and  preached  at  Troyes,  January  Tth, 
 4816. 
 
 -J-  Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes. 
 
 By  Order, 
 Constant  Migneaux^  Canon  Secretary. 
 
(  140  ) 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Boulogne,  etc. 
 
 Since  many  years,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, we  have  not  been  able  to  appeal  to  your 
 charity  in  behalf  of  our  Seminary.  Misfortunes 
 loo  well  known,  and  events  too  memorable  to  be 
 here  recalled  to  mind,  have  rendered  it  impos- 
 sible for  us  to  recur  to  your  benevolence  in  fa- 
 vour of  an  establishment  not  less  precious  to 
 Religion  than  to  the  Country,  not  less  calculated 
 to  interest  the  true  friends  of  the  Slate  than  those 
 of  the  Church.  Those  sad  obstacles  have  been 
 removed,  and  we  hasten  to  profit  of  the  holy 
 career  on  which  we  enter,  in  order  to  renew  our 
 exiiortations  on  this  subject,  and  that  with  more 
 
(  141  ) 
 
 urgent  solicitude  now,  as  new  circumstances  have 
 created  new  wants ;  and  those  new  wants  neces- 
 sitate an  augmentation  of  suppHes,  and  offer  to 
 your  piety  a  new  motive  to  concur  in  the  conso- 
 lidation of  a  work  as  holy  as  it  is  meritorious. 
 
 Hitherto,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  the 
 Students  of  the  Seminary  have  lived  near  our 
 own  person,  and  immediately  under  our  own  eye 
 (they  have  not  even  had  any  other  dwelling  than 
 our  own),  and  far  from  complaining  on  that 
 head,  we  would  have  congratulated  ourselves, 
 if  the  place  they  as  yet  occupy  therein  had  been 
 more  spacious  and  more  commodious,  better 
 suited  to  their  number  and  necessities,  and  if, 
 too  narrow  to  be  salubrious,  it  had  not  visibly 
 compromised  their  health,  and  even  their  lives. 
 These  several  years  past,  we  have  been  soliciting, 
 but  in  vain,  the  restitution  of  the  great  Seminary 
 (the  only  place  that  can  answer  all  their  pur- 
 poses); a  restitution,  so  much  the  more  just,  as 
 having  been  constructed  some  years  before  the 
 Revolulion,  at  the  expense  of  the  Diocess  and 
 its  generous  Prelate,  it  should  have  been  justly 
 looked  upon  as  their  patrimony.  This  important 
 edifice  has  at  length  been  restored  to  us  by  our 
 virtuous  Monarch,  and  in  granting  us  this  favour, 
 which  we  consider  as  the  prelude  of  many  others. 
 
(  U2  ) 
 
 he  has  less  yielded  to  our  prayers  than  to  his  own 
 natural  equity  and  the  pious  movements  of  his 
 heart.  It  was  worthy  of  the  legitimate  King  to 
 restore  to  the  legitimate  proprietor  a  building  of 
 which  he  could  not  have  been  despoiled  but  by  a 
 Revolution,  iniquitous  in  its  principle,  barbarous 
 in  its  means,  and  impious  in  its  object.  It  was 
 indeed  meet  that  a  descendant  of  St.  Lewis,  the 
 eldest  Son  of  the  Church,  should  restore  to  that 
 Church  the  sacred  School  of  her  Ministers,  whose 
 destination  could  not  have  been  thwarted  with- 
 out saddening  men  of  virtue  and  the  friends  of 
 public  morals. 
 
 We  have  it  in  contemplation,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  to  transfer  our  Seminary  to 
 the  building  lately  restored,  as  soon  as  we  shall 
 have  made  the  necessary  reparations,  and  ren- 
 dered it  capable  of  receiving  a  soldiery  so  dif- 
 ferent from  that  for  which  it  was  reserved. 
 These  reparations  cannot  take  place  without 
 much  expense,  and  consequently  render  our 
 succours  more  indispensable,  and  our  alms  more 
 urgent.  It  is  on  this  renewal  of  your  alms  that 
 we  count  with  the  most  lively  confidence.  We 
 have  no  doubt,  but  a  holy  emulation  of  zeal  and 
 pious  generosity  shall  be  established  amongst 
 you,  and  that  every  one  will  stand  forward  to 
 
(  U3  ) 
 
 contribute  to  the  restoration  of  this  cradle  of  the 
 Priesthood,  and  concur,  according"  to  his  means, 
 to  raise  this  Sanctuary  where  the  Lord  is  going 
 to  dwell  anew;  and  which  shall  soon  become 
 what  it  was,  and  what  it  should  never  have  ceased 
 to  be,  the  house  of  prayer,  the  abode  of  the  angels 
 of  peace,  (1)  ihe  asylum  of  piety  and  sacred 
 learning,  the  home  of  virtuous  poverty,  and  the 
 happy  nursery,  where  shall  soon  bud  forth  those 
 young  plants  destined  to  produce  in  their  season 
 the  most  abundant  fruits  of  salvation  and  grace, 
 and  thus  indemnify  Religion  for  its  losses  and 
 its  ruins. 
 
 This  hope  is  not  vain,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  and  if,  to  awaken  your  interest  in 
 favor  of  those, young  Levites,  it  were  necessary 
 to  speak  their  praises,  we  should  say,  at  the  risk 
 of  wounding  their  modesty,  that  their  progress 
 in  piety  corresponds  with  their  progress  in 
 study,  and  that  they  are.  at  once  our  consolation 
 and  our  joy,  as  well  as  of  the  virtuous  eccle- 
 siastics to  whose  care  we  have  confided  them. 
 We  should  say,  that,  docile  to  the  lessons  of 
 their  wise  conductors,  they  render  themselves 
 more  and  more  worthy  of  one  day  conducting 
 
 (1)  Isai.  XXXIII,  7. 
 
(  1/.4  ) 
 
 others,  and  ihal  after  having  been  faithful  and 
 submissive  sheep,  every  thing  promises  they 
 shall  be  vigilant  and  zealous  Pastors,  and  edify 
 tlieir  flocks  as  much  as  they  now^  do  our  Clergy 
 and  Episcopal  City.  We  should  recall  to  your 
 minds  those  days  of  alarm  and  persecution,  in 
 which  they  have  shown  themselves  superior  to 
 every  fear  and  every  seduction.  They  have  then 
 shown  themselves  not  less  courageous  than  faith- 
 ful, not  less  sensible  to  our  misfortunes  than  to 
 those  of  the  Church  ;  not  less  attached  to  our 
 person  than  to  our  authority,  they  have  proved 
 that  they  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree  the 
 virtues  of  their  calling,  as  they  knew  its  rules 
 and  principles,  and  thus  have  merited  that  we 
 may  say  of  them  what  the  Prophet  says  of  those 
 children  whose  tongues  God,  when  he  pleases, 
 can  render  most  eloquent  in  his  praise.  JSx  ore 
 infantium  pevfecisti  laudem.  (1) 
 
 You  will  learn.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethen, 
 not,  perhaps,  without  surprise,  that  this  year  we 
 have  carried  the  number  of  those  pupils  to  more 
 than  two  hundred,  notwithstanding  the  scantiness 
 and  even  the  diminution  of  our  resources ;  and 
 you  will  no  doubt  inquire  how  such  a  great 
 
 (1)  Ps.  YlII,  S. 
 
(  145  ) 
 
 number  of  children,  so  few  of  whom  furnish  the 
 expenses  of  their  entertainment,  can  neverthe- 
 less subsist.     Istos  quis  enutrivit P {\^ 
 
 It  is  the  signal  favour  of  Divine  Providence, 
 the  visible  protection  of  Heaven,  the  aid  of  Him, 
 who  can  raise  from  the  very  stones  children  to 
 Abraham,  and  multiply  five  loaves  to  nourish  a 
 multitude.  But  this  favour  and  protection  of 
 Heaven,  which  it  is  impossible  to  disown,  far 
 from  exempting  you  from  aiding  us,  are,  on  the 
 contrary,  but  new  motives  to  second  Divine  Pro- 
 vidence by  your  efforts  and  your  sacrifices;  and 
 thus,  by  associating  yourselves  to  his  favours, 
 share  the  same  blessings  he  has  hitherto  shed  on 
 an  establishment  we  may  regard  as  the  work  of 
 his  right  hand  and  the  favourite  object  of  his 
 paternal  bounty. 
 
 We  feel.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  that 
 the  present  circumstances  are  not  too  favourable 
 to  obtain  great  assistance  from  you.  We  know 
 too  well  all  the  misfortunes  late  events  have 
 drawn  upon  our  Diocess,  already  weighed  down 
 by  the  disasters  of  last  year ;  so  that  we  can  ex- 
 claim with  the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem  :  Woe 
 to  us  because  we  walk  in  the  midst  of  devasta- 
 
 (1)  Isai.  XLIX,  21. 
 
 K 
 
(  146  ) 
 
 tion  and  ruins.  Vce  nobis  quoniam  vastati  sii- 
 mus.  (1)  But  if  now,  more  than  ever,  we  can  say 
 with  the  Apostle,  that  the  times  are  had,  (2)  we 
 can  also  say  with  him,  that  we  must  urgejou  in 
 season  and  out  of  season  and  not  fear  to  become 
 importunate,  (3)  whenever  it  is  necessary  to  sti- 
 mulate your  charity,  and  the  wants  of  the  church 
 require  it.  We  know  that  true  charity  knows 
 no  season,  and  that  the  moment,  perhaps  the 
 most  favourable  to  render  it  active  and  indus- 
 trious, is  the  very  season  of  afflictions  and  ad- 
 versity ;  because,  according  to  the  wise  man, 
 whatever  ajflicls  the  heart  awakens  the  under^ 
 standing,  (4)  by  inspiring-  good  desires  and  good 
 thoughts.  No  doubt,  our  misfortunes  are  great, 
 and  so  much  the  more  so  as  we  have  justly  de- 
 served them,  as  tliey  are  the  fruits  of  our  errors 
 and  our  crimes,  and  as  we  owe  them  still  less  to 
 the  vengeance  of  our  enemies  than  that  of  Hea- 
 ven. But  this  is  but  another  and  stronger  reason 
 to  disarm  that  Heaven  which  so  signally  chastises 
 us,  and  to  appease,  by  our  alms  and  ardent  sup- 
 plications, tliat  awful  Being,  who,  as  the  Scrip- 
 ture has  it,  strikes  us  with  an  extended  arm,  (5) 
 
 (1)  Jerem.  IV,  13.     (2)  Ephes.  V,  16.     (3)  Tim.  IV,  2. 
 (A)  Eccl.  XXII,  24.  (5)  Jerem.  XXVII,  5. 
 
( 1^' ) 
 
 and  who  in  his  wrath  (1)  bruises  the  people  as 
 he  bruises  kings.  (2) 
 
 No  doubt  our  misfortunes  are  great,  and  still 
 greater  than  we  imagine  ;  no,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  our  real  disasters  lie  neither  in 
 the  devastation  of  our  lands,  nor  in  the  burning 
 of  our  cities,  nor  in  the  loss  of  our  harvests,  nor 
 in  the  exhaustion  of  the  public  treasure,  nor  in 
 the  ruin  of  private  fortunes.  They  consist  in  the 
 overthrow  of  all  principles,  in  the  decay  of  all 
 moral  ideas,  in  this  profound  depravity  which 
 has  gained  every  age  and  every  state,  in  this  un- 
 measured and  unbridled  licentiousness  unknown 
 to  our  fathers ;  in  a  word,  in  this  contempt  of 
 God  and  of  his  laws,  and  this  total  forgetfulness 
 of  Religion  which  menaces  at  once  the  city  and 
 the  country  with  one  common  barbarity. 
 
 Such,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  is  the 
 great  misery  which  has  produced  all  others  j  the 
 sovereign  calamity,  source  of  all  calamities;  such 
 the  treasures  of  iniquity  (3)  that  have  drawn  upon 
 our  heads  the  treasures  of  wrath,  (4)  It  is  then 
 the  speedy  return  of  Religion  that  can  alone 
 heal  our  woes,  re- animate  France,  and  raise  her 
 
 (1)   Psal.  LV,  8.  (2)  Ps.  CIX,  5. 
 
 (3)  Mich.  VI,  10.  (A)  Jam.  V,  3. 
 
(  ^^'8  ) 
 
 from  ihe   abyss  into  which  her    impiety    has 
 plunged  her. 
 
 It  is  then  towards  this  happy  re-establishment 
 that  should  tend  our  most  ardent  wishes ;  and 
 how  shall  we  be  able  to  accomplish  this  great 
 end  but  by  contributing,  as  much  as  in  us  lies, 
 to  the  support  of  the  sacred  Ministers  destined 
 to  perpetuate  religious  worship,  and  replace  her 
 supporters,  whose  daily  reduction  is  so  rapid 
 and  alarming.  How,  if  it  be  not  by  upholding 
 with  all  our  means  those  Schools  of  the  Priest- 
 hood better  calculated  than  all  others  to  animate 
 your  zeal?  Those  schools,  eminently  national, 
 and  worthy  of  being  at  the  head  of  all  the  public 
 institutions,  if  it  be  true  that  the  morality  of  a 
 nation  should  be  set  before  every  thing  beside, 
 and  that  religion  is  to  a  people  what  soul  is  to  a 
 body,  what  the  air  we  breathe  is  to  life. 
 
 It  is  also.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  to 
 sympathize  with  you  in  the  rigorous  position  of 
 things,  and  in  the  difficult  times  in  which  we  are 
 circumstanced,  that  we  will  still  use  this  year, 
 but  without  consequence  for  the  future,  an  in- 
 dulgence which  appears  to  us  conformable  to 
 the  spirit  of  the  church,  by  dispensing  you  in  a 
 part  of  the  law  of  Lent,  but  which  shall  be  com- 
 pensated by  satisfactory  works,  and  particularly 
 
(  149  ) 
 
 hy  alms  given  to  our  Seminary,  according  to  the 
 faculties  and  conscience  of  each  person. 
 
 Here  follow  several  articles,  similar  to  those 
 noticed  in  a  foregoing  Pastoral. 
 
 Given  at  Paris,  under  the  seal,  etc.  etc.  Fe- 
 bruary 15th,  1816. 
 
 -}-  Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes. 
 
 By  Order, 
 Constant  Migneaux,  Canon  Secretary. 
 
(  150  ) 
 
 PASTORAL  LETTER 
 
 Ordermg  a  solemn  Mass  to  be  celebrated,  and  prayers 
 of  thanksgiving  to  be  offered  up  on  Monday  the  htli 
 of  May,  to  thank  God  for  the  return  of  the  King,  and 
 the  approaching  marriage  of  His  R.  II.  the  Duke  of 
 Berry  with  Her  R,  H.  the  Princess  Caroline  of  the 
 two  Sicilies. 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Boulogne,  etc. 
 
 Our  Most  Christian  King,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  has  deigned  to  inform  us,  by  a  closed 
 letter,  of  the  approach  of  the  epoch  for  ever  dear 
 to  our  hearts,  of  his  return  to  his  states,  and  to 
 express  to  us  the  ''^necessity  he  feels  of  re- 
 '^  turning  to  God  new  acts  of  thanksgiving 
 ^'  for  so  many  miraculous  events,  by  which  it 
 *'  has  pleased  Him  to  signalize  His  protection 
 ' '   towards  him  and  his  august  House." 
 
 His  Majesty,  well  penetrated  with  this  truth, 
 that  every  excellent  grace  and  every  perfect 
 
(  151   ) 
 
 gift  comes  from  on  high,  descending  from 
 the  Father  of  lights,  (1)  equally  recognises  the 
 *'  special  intervention  of  Divine  Providence,  in 
 "  the  happy  alliance  which  is  shortly  to  unite 
 '^  two  branches  of  the  Royal  Family,  and  which 
 "  promises  to  France,  Princes  to  inherit  his 
 *'  own  love  for  his  people." 
 
 He  then  expects  from  their  affection  and 
 piety,  ''that  they  will  unite  with  him  in  bearing 
 "  to  the  foot  of  the  altars,  the  homage  of  their 
 ''  gratitude  and  the  tribute  of  their  prayers." 
 
 Such  is  the  double  object  of  this  letter,  truly 
 worthy  of  the  son  of  Saint  Lewis,  by  the  piety 
 it  breathes ;  worthy  of  the  son  of  Lewis  the 
 Great,  by  the  elevation  and  majesty  which 
 reign  throughout  it ;  worthy,  in  fine,  of  the  Bro- 
 ther of  our  Martyr-King,  by  the  sentiments  of 
 paternal  bounty  with  which  it  abounds. 
 
 Could  your  hearts.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, not  open  to  the  grand  and  pious  expres- 
 sions of  your  beloved  Sovereign  ?  Who  amongst 
 us  could  be  insensible  to  an  event,  which  re- 
 traces the  greatest  miracle  in  the  political  order, 
 of  which  modern  history  furnishes  us  an  ex- 
 ample ?  Yes,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  this 
 prodigy  of  the  mercy  of  Heaven  towards  us,  is 
 
 (1)  James  I,  17. 
 
(  152  ) 
 
 marked  with  such  a  broad  seal  of  evidence,  thai 
 it  is  impossible  for  the  most  obstinate  not  to  re- 
 cognise it. 
 
 To  the  joy,  with  which  the  anniversary  of  the 
 liing's  return  should  inspire  the  heart  of  every 
 true  Frenchman,  a  memorable  event,  a  new 
 pledge  of  the  stability  of  his  Royal  Dynasty,  is 
 going  to  add  new  transports.  A  valorous  Prince, 
 after  the  example  of  so  many  kings,  his  glorious 
 ancestors,  secures  for  ever,  under  tlie  empire 
 of  the  Lilies,  the  destinies  of  our  country,  by 
 his  alliance  with  a  Princess  of  his  own  blood. 
 
 Blessed,  no  doubt,  shall  be  the  alliance  that 
 is  to  unite  the  blood  of  the  Bourbons,  piety  with 
 piety,  goodness  with  goodness,  the  love  of  the 
 ■people  with  the  love  of  the  people  I  How  much 
 do  we  not  regret.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 that,  on  so  solemn  an  occasion,  which  opens 
 every  heart  to  so  much  joy  and  so  much  hope, 
 a  moment  of  indisposition  should  prevent  us 
 from  announcing  to  you,  all  we  ourselves  expe- 
 rience; from  engaging  you  more  earnestly  to 
 prayer  and  thanksgiving  for  so  great  a  favor. 
 Our  Pastoral  histvuction  on  the  love  and  fi- 
 delity we  owe  our  king,  and  which  so  happily 
 coincides  with  this  memorable  event,  will  sup- 
 ])ly  what  our  present  debility  does  not  permit  us 
 to  say  to  you.     The  lecture  of  His  Majesty's 
 
(153) 
 
 letter  alone  will  excite  in  your  hearts  senti- 
 ments, which  our  painful  position  prevents  us 
 from  developing,  in  the  manner  and  degree 
 with  which  we  ourselves  are  penetrated. 
 
 Here  follow  a  few  articles  indicating  the  Mass 
 to  be  celebrated,  and  certain  psalms  and  other 
 prayers  proper  for  the  occasion,  with  injunc- 
 tions to  the  same  effect  for  the  other  Churches 
 of  thcDiocess,  whose  Pastors  are  to  invite,  in  the 
 accustomed  forms,  the  civil  and  military  autho- 
 rities. 
 
 Given  atTroyes,  etc.  etc.,  24th  April,  1816, 
 
 ■f  Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes. 
 By  Order, 
 Constant  Migneaux,  C«  Secretary. 
 
(  «54  ) 
 
 HIS  MAJESTY'S  LETTER  TO  THE  BISHOP 
 OF  TROITS. 
 
 "^Mt  Lord  Bishop  of  Troves,  we  could  not 
 behold  the  approach  of  the  Anniversary  of  the 
 memorable  epoch  of  our  entrance  into  our  states, 
 without  feeling  the  necessitv  of  makiuo^  to  God 
 new  acts  of  thanksiiiving  for  so  many  miracu- 
 lous events,  by  which  He  has  been  pleased  to 
 signalize  His  protection  towards  us  and  our 
 House. 
 
 *'  We  also  fondly  recognise  the  special  inter- 
 vention of  Divine  Providence  in  the  happv  alli- 
 ance, which  is  shortlv  to  unite  two  branches  of 
 our  family,  and  which  promises  to  France, 
 Princes  that  shadl  inherit  our  love  for  our  peo- 
 ple. 
 
 *' \ye  expect  then  from  the  affection,  of 
 which  they  daily  give  us  such  touching  proofs, 
 that,  on  this  occasion  they  will  unite  with  us  in 
 bearing  to  the  foot  of  the  altars  the  homage  of 
 their  gratitude  and  the  humble  tribute  of  their 
 pravers. 
 
 ''To  restore  to  Religion  her  power  and  her 
 splendour,  to  the  GaUican  Church  her  dignity, 
 to  good  morals  their  empire,,  to  all  sound  doc- 
 
(  ^55  ) 
 
 trines  their  salutary  influence ;  to  exting^uish  all 
 animosities,  reunite  all  hearts,  to  secure  repose 
 within,  and  maintain  peace  without ;  such  is  the 
 constant  object  of  our  paternal  solicitude;  such 
 the  favours  we  should  implore  at  His  hands  of 
 whom  all  empires  bold." 
 
 "For  these  causes,  our  intention.  Mj  Lord  Bi- 
 shop of  Troves,  is,  that  on  receipt  of  the  present 
 you  order  public  pravers  to  be  addressed  to 
 Heaven,  in  all  the  Churches  of  vour  Diocess.  the 
 first  Sundav  which  shall  follow  the  3rd  of  3Iaj, 
 the  dav  of  our  entrance  into  Paris  :  and  the  pre- 
 sent being  to  no  other  end,  we  prav  God  to  have 
 you  in  His  holv  and  worthy  keepino". 
 
 '  'Done  in  our  Palace  of  the  Thuileries,  the  1 9th 
 April,  in  the  year  of  Grace,  1816,  and  the  21st 
 of  our  reign. 
 
 Signed,   LEWIS. 
 
 And  nnder, 
 
 Va5BLA3C." 
 
(  15G  ) 
 
 PASTORA.L  LETTER 
 
 Ordering  that  on  the  idtfi  October,  or  the  Monday 
 immediately  following  its  reception,  there  be  cele- 
 brated, in  all  the  Churches  of  his  Diocess,  a  solemn 
 Service  for  the  soul  of  Marie- Antoinette  of  Austria, 
 Queen  of  France  and  Navarre. 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Boulogne,  etc.  etc. 
 
 We  have  just  now  received,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  the  letter  which  His  Majesty  has 
 deigned  to  address  to  us,  announcing  his  inten- 
 tion, that  we  should  order  a  solemn  Service  in 
 all  the  Churches  of  our  Diocess,  in  memory  of 
 the  late  Queen  of  France,  Marie-Antoinette  of 
 Austria.  We  hasten  to  fulfil  this  duty,  as  it  is 
 to  be  feared  that  our  letter  cannot  arrive  in  all 
 the  parishes  of  so  vast  a  Diocess,  before  the  1  Gth, 
 the  anniversary  of  the  death  of  this  great  and  un- 
 fortunate Princess.  And  who  indeed.  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  could  recall  her  to  his  me- 
 
(  157  ) 
 
 niory  without  feeling  the  throes  of  anguish  and 
 the  irresistible  desire  of  pouring  forth  his  tears 
 and  his  prayers  at  the  foot  of  the  holy  altars,  in 
 this  deplorable  commemoration?  If  the  21st 
 of  January  is  now  for  every  Frenchman  a  day  of 
 mourning  and  expiation,  how  could  the  1 6th  of 
 October  not  be  so?  What  an  enigma  for 
 our  history,  what  a  blemish  on  our  age,  are 
 those  two  outrages  !  If  the  first,  which  caused 
 the  best  of  Kings  to  perish  by  a  parricidal  sword, 
 was  more  bold  and  sacrilegious,  the  second, 
 which  associated  the  greatest  of  Queens  to  her 
 spouse's  martyrdom,  was  more  cruel  and  bar- 
 barous, as  it  was  more  useless  and  still  less 
 coloured  by  pretexts  or  excuse. 
 
 The  King  desires.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, that,  instead  of  a  funeral  oration,  the 
 Ministers  of  Religion  should  confine  them- 
 selves to  the  lecture  from  the  pulpit  of  this 
 touching  and  suhlime  letter j  which  has  been  dis- 
 covered hy  a  miracle.  It  is,  in  truth,  itself,  the 
 most  eloquent  panegyric  that  can  be  pronounced 
 on  this  Princess;  the  most  honourable  title  that 
 can  recommend  her  to  the  memory  of  man  and 
 the  veneration  of  posterity;  the  most  glorious 
 resemblance  she  could  have  to  the  Martyr- 
 King  :  same  firmness  of  soul,  same  resignation, 
 same  magnanimity,  same  pardon  for  her  mur- 
 
(  158) 
 
 derers,  same  spirit  of  religion  and  piety  which 
 animates  and  supports  her  in  her  last  hour. 
 It  is,  in  short,  the  most  triumphant  answer  she 
 could  make  to  her  cruel  persecutors,  who,  when 
 thej  could  not  condemn  her  without  injustice, 
 calumniated  her  without  shame  :  who  could,  in- 
 deed, rob  her  of  her  crown  and  her  life,  but  not 
 of  her  dignity  and  her  honour;  could  drench 
 her  with  humiliations  and  outrages,  but  never 
 degrade  her. 
 
 How  could  we  then.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, not  bless  and  adore  Divine  Providence, 
 which,  after  having  saved,  by  a  prodigy  which  the 
 most  incredulous  must  recognise,  the  immortal 
 Testament  of  Lewis  XVI,  has  permitted  that 
 that  also  of  his  august  companion  should  be 
 transmitted  to  us  by  means  not  less  extraordi- 
 nary and  surprising,  to  teach  us,  as  it  were, 
 never  to  separate  in  our  vows  and  prayers  those 
 two  great  victims,  so  worthy  each  other,  and 
 still  more  united  by  the  heroism  of  their  senti- 
 ments than  by  the  rigour  of  their  fortunes. 
 
 We  shall  insist  no  longer.  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  on  the  eulosrium  of  this  immortal  Prin- 
 cess,  accomplished  model  of  goodness  and  grace, 
 as  faithful  spouse  as  she  was  a  tender  mother ; 
 who  was  never  wanting  to  herself  on  any  occa- 
 
(  159  ) 
 
 sion ;  and  after  having,  upon  the  throne,  shown 
 herself  greater  than  her  rank,  still  knew  how  in 
 her  last  moments  to  prove  superior  to  herself. 
 We  shall  have  said  all  for  her  glory,  when  we 
 shall  remark  that  she  held  so  high  a  place  in  the 
 heart  of  this  heavenly  Elizabeth,  her  good  and 
 tender  sister,  and  Martyr  like  herself,  and  that  it 
 is  into  this  heart,  so  noble  and  so  pure,  that  she 
 poured  forth  all  her  own;  when  we  shall  have 
 said  that  the  King,  in  announcing  to  the  Depu- 
 ties of  the  Nation  the  unexpected  discovery  of 
 this  memorable  letter,  which  has  revealed  so 
 many  exalted  virtues,  has  felt  himself  honoured 
 with  having  been  her  subject,  her  brother,  and 
 her  friend :  what  a  new  motive  to  answer  to  the 
 wishes  of  his  pious  sorrows !  And  what  could 
 we  offer  him  more  agreeable  or  more  consoling 
 for  his  heart,  than  thus  to  pay  to  the  object  of  his 
 tender  affections  the  solemn  tribute  of  our  sup- 
 plications and  our  tears? 
 
 But  in  thus  corresponding  with  his  noble  de- 
 sires, could  we  neglect.  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  to  pray  for  himself,  to  demand  of  God 
 that  He  should  deign  to  inspire  Iiim  with  this 
 spirit  of  counsel,  prudence  and  strength,  of 
 which,  now,  more  than  ever,  he  stands  in  need  : 
 it  is  the  greatest  mark  of  gratitude  he  can  re- 
 
(  1G0  ) 
 
 ceive  at  our  hands,  at  a  moment  when  his  Roj'al 
 Charity  pours  out  on  our  Department  (1)  such 
 numerous  succours,  which  should  so  much  the 
 more  feelingly  touch  our  hearts,  as  they  are  the 
 fruits  of  personal  sacrifices  he  imposes  on  him- 
 self; succours,  which  he  retrenches  not  only 
 from  his  pleasures,  but  from  his  wants ;  proving 
 thereby,  that  there  is  no  privation  which  is  not 
 for  him  an  enjoyment,  whenever  it  can  contri- 
 bute to  the  alleviation  of  poverty  and  the  conso- 
 lation of  the  afflicted. 
 
 How  unjust  then,  and  how  culpable.  Our 
 Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  would  not  be  those 
 perfidious  agitators,  those  artisans  of  falsehood, 
 who,  not  less  insensible  to  his  favours  than  to  his 
 virtues,  should  fill  up  the  measure  of  their  in- 
 gratitude by  aggravating  the  toilsome  load  of  his 
 functions  with  their  exaggerated  complaints, 
 their  unfounded  reproaches,  and  those  fabulous 
 reports,  so  much  the  more  easily  accredited,  as 
 they  are  more  absurd,  and  more  easily  belied : 
 and  who,  instead  of  blessing  his  paternalsolicitude 
 
 (1)  The  succours  granted  to  the  Department  of  Aube, 
 by  the  King  and  the  Princes  of  his  Family,  amount  to  one 
 million,  forty-two  thousand,  nine  hundred  and  eighty 
 francs. 
 
(  161  ) 
 
 and  inexhaustible  bounty,  make  new  efforls, 
 every  clay,  to  turn  against  him  the  very  misfor- 
 tunes he  repairs,  the  casualties  he  cannot  avoid, 
 the  very  scourges  of  Heaven,  and  the  disasters  of 
 which  they  themselves  are  the  first  cause ;  and 
 thus  do  they  seek  to  enfeeble  those  sentiments 
 of  love  and  fidelity  to  which  he  has  acquired  so 
 strong  a  title,  and  which  alone  can  ensure  our 
 happiness  and  our  strength. 
 
 We  will  then.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 commemorate  the  16th  of  October  with  that 
 spirit  of  penance  and  compunction  which  so  well 
 suits  this  funereal  day.  We  will  celebrate  it 
 with  that  sadness  and  religious  recollection  com- 
 manded by  the  great  crime  of  which  it  recalls 
 the  horrid  memory.  We  shall  celebrate  it,  in 
 order  to  expiate  it  as  much  as  possible ;  in  order 
 to  wash  ourselves  from  the  shame  of  this  out- 
 rage which  shall  accuse  us  to  the  latest  genera- 
 tions; to  implore  the  Divine  Mercy  and  disarm 
 the  wrath  of  Heaven,  justly  irritated  against  us, 
 and  whose  anger  shall  not  cease  until  we  shall 
 have  ceased  to  offer  to  the  world  the  spectacle 
 of  a  nation  still  sick  with  her  own  vices  and 
 errors,  still  infatuated  with  her  own  false  lights, 
 and  so  desperately  situated,  that  no  calamity  can 
 correct,  no  experience  enlighten,  no  lesson  in- 
 
 L 
 
(1G2) 
 
 Struct,  no  grace  can  soften,  no  miracle  convert 
 her. 
 
 Here  follow  certain  articles  indicating  the  ex- 
 piatory ceremonies  to  be  performed  in  the  se- 
 veral churches  of  the  Diocess. 
 
 ■f  Stephen  Anthowy,  Bishop  of  Troyes. 
 By  Order, 
 
 Constant  Mtgweaux,  C.  Secretary. 
 October  12, 1816. 
 
(  163  ) 
 
 LETTER 
 
 Of  Marie- Antoinette  of  Austria,   Queen  of  France 
 and  Navarre,  to  Madame  Elizabeth  of  France. 
 
 This  16th  of  Oct.,  at  half-past  four  in  the  morning. 
 
 ^'  It  is  to  jou,  my  Sister,  I  write  for  the  last 
 time.  I  am  after  being'  condemned,  not  indeed 
 to  a  shameful  death,  (it  is  only  so  for  the  cul- 
 pable), but  to  go  rejoin  jour  Brother.  Like 
 him,  innocent,  I  hope  to  show  the  same  firmness 
 as  he  in  his  last  moments.  I  am  calm  as  one  is 
 when  conscience  reproaches  nothing ;  I  grieve 
 profoundly  to  quit  my  poor  children  :  you  know 
 I  existed  only  for  them  and  for  you,  my  good 
 and  tender  Sister;  you,  who  through  friendship, 
 have  sacrificed  all  to  be  with  us.  In  what  a 
 position  I  leave  you !  I  have  learned  by  the 
 pleadings  of  the  suit  that  my  daughter,  was  sepa- 
 rated from  you.  Alas!  poor  child,  I  dare  not 
 write  to  her,  she  would  not  receive  my  letter; 
 I  know  not  even  if  this  one  shall  reach  you. 
 
 *'  Receive  here  my  blessing  for  them  both.  I 
 hope,  that  one  day,  when  they  shall  be  older, 
 they  will  be  able  to  reunite  themselves  with  you 
 and  enjoy  entirely  your  tender  cares.     Let  them 
 
(  164  ) 
 
 both  reflect  on  what  I  have  never  ceased  lo  in- 
 culcate to  them;  that  principles,  and  the  exact  ac- 
 complishment of  our  duties,  are  the  first  basis  of 
 life  ;  that  their  mutual  friendship  and  confidence 
 will  be  their  happiness.  Let  my  daughter  feel, 
 that  at  her  age  she  should  alwajs  aid  her  brother 
 bj  those  counsels  her  greater  experience  and  her 
 friendship  for  him  may  inspire  her  with;  that  my 
 son,  in  his  turn,  should  repay  her  with  all  the 
 good  cares  and  services  friendship  can  suggest. 
 Let  them,  in  a  word,  both  feel,  that,  in  whatever 
 position  they  shall  be,  they  never  can  be  truly 
 happy  but  by  their  union.  Let  them  take  ex- 
 ample from  us.  In  misfortune,  what  consolation 
 does  not  friendship  aff'ord  us;  and,  in  prosperity, 
 our  enjoyments  are  doubly  delicious  by  sharing 
 them  with  a  friend  ;  and  where  can  we  find  more 
 tender  or  dearer  ones  than  in  our  own  family? 
 Let  my  son  never  forget  the  last  words  of  his 
 Father,  which  I  here  repeat  to  him  expressly ; 
 ^'  Let  him  never  seek  to  avenge  our  death.  " 
 
 '^I  have  now  to  speak  to  you  of  a  thing  very 
 painful  to  my  heart.  I  know  what  trouble  this 
 child  must  have  given  you.  Pardon  him,  my 
 dear  Sister ;  think  on  his  age,  and  how  easy  it 
 is  to  make  a  child  say  what  one  will,  and  even 
 what  he  does  not  comprehend.  The  day  will 
 come,  I  Iiope,  when  he  shall  better  appreciate 
 
(  165  ) 
 
 your  kindness  and  youF  tenderness  for  them 
 both.  It  still  remains  for  me  to  confide  to  you 
 my  last  thoughts.  I  had  wished  to  write  them 
 from  the  very  commencement  of  the  indictment ; 
 but  then  the  procedure  has  been  so  rapid,  that 
 though  they  had  not  even  prevented  me  from 
 writing,  I  really  would  not  have  had  sufficient 
 time, 
 
 "I  die  in  the  Catholic,  Apostolic,  and  Roman 
 Religion  ;  in  that  of  my  Fathers;  in  that  in  which 
 I  have  been  bred  and  which  I  have  always  pro- 
 fessed ;  having  no  spiritual  consolation  to  hope 
 for,  not  knowing  even  if  there  still  exist  here 
 Priests  of  that  Religion;  and  even  the  place 
 where  I  am  would  expose  them  too  much,  if  they 
 once  entered  here. 
 
 "  I  demand  sincerely  pardon  of  God,  for  all 
 the  faults  I  may  have  committed  dming  my  life. 
 I  hope  that,  in  His  goodness.  He  will  deign  to  re- 
 ceive my  last  wishes,  as  well  as  those  I  offer  Him 
 this  long  time ;  that  He  may  graciously  receive  my 
 soul  in  His  mercy  and  His  bounty.  I  ask  pardon 
 of  all  my  acquaintances,  and  of  you,  in  particular, 
 my  Sister,  for  all  the  pains  which  I  may  have 
 unwillingly  occasioned  you.  I  pardon  all  my 
 enemies  the  wrongs  they  have  done  me.  I  here 
 bid  farewell  to  my  aunts,  to  all  my  brothers  and 
 sisters.    I  had  friends;  the  idea  of  being  sepa- 
 
(  166  ) 
 
 rated  from  them  and  their  pains  are  amongst  the 
 greatest  regrets  I  carry  with  me  to  the  grave; 
 let  them  at  least  know,  that  even  in  my  last  hour 
 I  have  thought  on  them.  Adieu,  my  good  and 
 tender  Sister  j  may  this  letter  reach  you ! 
 
 Think  still  on  me.  I  embrace  you  from  my 
 whole  heart,  as  also  my  poor  dear  children. 
 
 Good  God !  how  heart-breaking  it  is  to  quit 
 each  other  for  ever  !  farewell!  farewell  I  I  shall 
 occupy  myself  no  longer  but  with  my  spiritual 
 duties.  As  I  am  not  free  in  my  actions,  they  will 
 perhaps  bring  me  a  Priest,  (1 )  hut  1  here  protest ^ 
 that  I  will  not  say  a  single  word  to  him,  and 
 that  1  shall  treat  him  as  an  utter  stranger*^ 
 
 (Signed)         Marie-Antoinette. 
 
 (1)  The  Queen  feared,  and  -with  reason,  that  they  would 
 introduce  to  her  a  Priest  that  had  taken  the  Oath  to  the 
 Constitution  of  the  French  Clergy,  and  under  this  im- 
 pression, she  could  not  place  her  confidence  in  any  one 
 sent  her  by  her  barbarous  Judges.  At  that  moment  she 
 could  procure  no  other. 
 
(  167  ) 
 
 THE  KING'S  LETTER 
 
 TO 
 
 HIS  LORDSHIP  THE  BISHOP  OF  TROYES. 
 
 ''  My  Lord  Bishop  of  Thoyes. — The  21st  of 
 January  has  been,  for  all  France,  a  day  of  mourn- 
 ing and  recollection  ;  Our  Subjects,  re-united  at 
 the  foot  of  the  altars,  have  been  profoundly 
 moved  at  the  lecture  of  the  last  will  of  the  best 
 and  most  unfortunate  of  Kings. 
 
 "  The  anniversary  of  the  16th  of  October, 
 which  recalls  such  great  and  dolorous  recollec- 
 tions, ought  equally  lo  be  an  epoch  of  public  and 
 expiatory  ceremonies. 
 
 "For  these  reasons,  Our  intention  is,  that  there 
 be  celebrated,  in  all  the  Churches  of  the  King- 
 dom, a  solemn  Service  in  memory  of  the  late 
 Queen  Marie-Antoinette.  You  will  have  to  in- 
 vite all  the  Civil  and  Military  Authorities.  We 
 wish  that  there  be  pronounced  no  discourse  or 
 funeral  oration,  but  that  they  should  confine 
 themselves  to  a  Lecture  from  the  Pulpit  of  the 
 
(  168  ) 
 
 touching  and  sublime  Letter,  which  lias  been 
 found  as  it  were  by  miracle,  and  in  which  this 
 Princess,  some  hours  before  her  death,  has  ex- 
 pressed all  the  sentiments  with  which  Religion 
 can  inspire  the  Most  Christian  Queen,  and  the 
 most  tender  of  mothers. 
 
 ''  The  present  being  to  no  other  end,  We 
 pray  God,  my  Lord  Bishop,  to  have  you  in  his 
 holy  and  worthy  keeping. 
 
 ''  At  the  Castle  of  the  Tuileries,  the  9th  Octo- 
 ber, 1816. 
 
 (Signed)  LEWIS.': 
 
(  160  ) 
 
 PASTORAL  LETTER 
 
 On   the  occasion  of  the  Lent  of  1817,   and  of  his 
 Seminary. 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Boulogne,  etc. 
 
 If  ever,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  it  has 
 been  necessary  to  prepare  ourselves  for  the  time 
 of  penance  and  the  holy  quarantine,  into  which 
 we  are  about  to  enter,  it  is,  no  doubt,  this  year  of 
 tribulation  and  of  trials  which  Divine  Providence 
 has  sent  us,  and  which  should  be  the  continual 
 subject  of  our  most  serious  meditations  and  daily 
 reflections.  At  what  period,  indeed,  have  we 
 seen  such  accumulated  misfortunes?  When  did 
 the  hand  of  God  weigh  down  on  us  more  visibly? 
 When  did  he,  more  than  in  this  season,  add  sor- 
 row to  sorrow,  and  misery  to  misery  P  (1 )  And 
 does  he  not  here  seem  to  ask  us  by  his  Prophet,  // 
 
 (1)  Jerem.  XLV,  3. 
 
(  170  ) 
 
 we  are  as  jet  sujficientlj  punished,  (1)  and  if  he 
 can  still  inflict  another  scourge,  in  order  to  recall 
 us  to  ourselves,  and  to  strike  more  deeply  into 
 our  hearts  the  terror  of  his  judgments?  Super 
 quo percutiam  vos  ultra? 
 
 The  menace  which  Moses  held  out  to  his  peo- 
 ple, is  then  accomplished.  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren  ;  ''  if  you  do  not  listen  to  the  voice  of 
 ^'  God,  and  that  you  be  unfaithful  to  his  com- 
 "  mandments,  you  shall  be  cursed  in  the  city 
 "  and  in  the  country;  cursed  in  your  houses  and 
 ''  your  fields;  you  shall  see  Heaven  refuse  its 
 '*  dew,  at  the  same  time  that  the  Earth  shall  re- 
 fuse its  fruits."  (2)  In  vain  should  we  dissemble  and 
 endeavourto  conceal  it  from  ourselves :  the  lesson 
 is  too  strong,  and  the  events  speak  too  loudly. 
 And  indeed,  unless  we  have  arrived  to  that  pitch 
 of  blindness  as  to  believe  that  God  is  tired  of  go- 
 verning this  world,  and  that  he  leaves  to  chance 
 the  care  of  its  destinies,  how  could  we  not  re- 
 cognise, in  those  numberless  misfortunes  accu- 
 mulated on  our  heads,  the  avenging  arm  which 
 enrols  against  us  the  winds  and  storms,  and  the 
 strokes  of  that  wakeful  rod,  (3)  spoken  of  by 
 Jeremy,  natural  image  of  that  eternal  justice  we 
 
 (1)  Isai.  I,  5.     (2)  Dcut.  XXVIII,  16,  and  following. 
 (3)  Jcrcm.  I,  11. 
 
(  m  ) 
 
 can  neither  deceive  nor  decline  ;  justice,  wliicli, 
 because  we  have  abused  all,  punishes  us  for 
 all ;  for  the  abuse  of  prosperity  by  all  sorts  of  ad- 
 versity ;  for  that  of  abundance,  by  every  kind  of 
 privation  ;  for  that  of  riches,  by  the  overthrow 
 of  our  fortunes;  for  that  of  our  successes  and  our 
 victories,  by  humiliation,  and  the  presence  of  the 
 strangers  who  crush  our  country ;  (1 )  for  the 
 abuse  of  Religion,  by  all  the  scourges  impiety 
 bears  in  its  train ;  in  fine,  for  the  abuse  of  the 
 lights  of  reason,  by  the  chaos  of  our  thoughts, 
 and  the  spirit  of  infatuation  and  of  error,  which 
 still  possesses  us :  so  that,  punished  alike  with 
 our  vices  and  our  follies,  our  disorders  and  our 
 false  principles,  our  corrupted  morals  and  our 
 corrupting  systems,  we  cannot  but  cry  out  with 
 the  Prophet :  Thou  art  just,  O  Lord,  and  thj 
 judgments  are  equitable  and  righteous.  (2) 
 
 But  this  is  not  yet  enough,  and  his  hand  is  still 
 stretched  out  farther.  (3)  Cast  your  eyes  around, 
 and  see  if  there  be  a  single  spot  on  the  earth 
 where  they  do  not  complain  ;  if  from  one  end 
 of  Europe  to  the  other,  you  do  not  hear  a  cry  of 
 distress  and  alarm,  which  announces  that  she 
 suffers  ;  if  this  word  of  the  Apostle  be  not  every 
 
 (1)  Isai.  I,  7.  (2)   Psalm  CXVIII,  9. 
 
 (3)  Isai.  V,  25. 
 
(172) 
 
 where  verified  :  that  every  creature  groans  and 
 feels  the  throes  of  child-birth  ;  (1 )  feels  I  know 
 not  what  restlessness,  so  much  the  more  alarming 
 as  it  is  undefinable  :  so  that^  we  no  longer  know 
 what  mankind  should  fear  the  more,  whether 
 the  derangement  of  nature,  or  the  dissolution  of 
 social  order ;  what  we  should  the  more  bewail, 
 whether  the  ills  we  suffer,  or  those  we  foresee. 
 What  then  !  are  the  times  arrived  ?  Does  the 
 world  touch  on  the  days  of  its  decadence  and 
 decrepitude  ?  Let  us  leave  to  God,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  the  secret  of  this  mystery. 
 But  let  us  not  lose  sight  of  a  state  of  things  as  sad 
 and  afflicting  as  it  is  fruitful  in  instruction.  Let 
 us  not  hesitate  to  recognise,  in  this  universal 
 scourging  of  Nations  and  Empires,  or  rather  as 
 Isaias  calls  it,  this  inundation  of  scourges,  (2) 
 which  seems  to  make  the  tour  of  the  world,  that 
 all  flesh  is  punished,  because  all  flesh  has  cor- 
 rupted its  ways ;  (3)  and  that  to  a  deluge  of 
 crimes  and  iniquities  has  succeeded  a  deluge  of 
 misfortune  and  misery  :  flagelluni  inundans. 
 
 And  yet.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  who 
 trembles  before  God?  Who  humbles  himself 
 under  his  powerful  hand  ?  (4)  Who  awakens  at 
 the  noise  of  his  thunder  ?   Wlio  thinks  of  shel- 
 
 (1)  Rom.  VIII,  22.  (2)  Isai.  XXVIII,  15. 
 
 (3)  Gen.  VI,  12.  (A)  I.  Pclcr,  V,  6. 
 
(1T3) 
 
 tering  himself  from  the  storm  of  his  wrath  ^  {\ ) 
 What  prayers  and  what  vows  have  we  addressed 
 to  Heaven  ?  What  resolutions  formed  for  our 
 amendment?  What  change  has  been  operated 
 in  our  minds  and  in  our  hearts  ?  Would  it  then 
 be  true,  that  we  are  of  the  number  of  those  des- 
 perate men  spoken  of  by  Jeremias  :  you  have 
 struck  them,  and  they  have  not  felt  it ;  you  have 
 crushed  them,  and  they  have  refused  to  yield 
 and  to  obey  :  percussisti  eos  et  non  doluerunt, 
 attrivisti eos  et  renuerunt  accipere  disciplinam.  (2) 
 But  no;  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  it  shall 
 not  be  said,  that  God  strikes  us  in  vain,  and  that 
 so  many  calamities  shall  be  lost  for  our  instruc- 
 tion. It  shall  not  be  said,  that,  as  blind  as  the 
 Pagans,  we  know  not  how  to  turn  to  good  ac- 
 count the  evil  with  which  he  visits  us,  and  that, 
 after  their  example,  we  shall  suffer  without  con- 
 solation and  without  merit.  We  shall  then  suffer 
 but  with  patience  and  resignation  ;  we  shall 
 suffer  in  God  and  for  God,  employing  all  the 
 means  his  bounty  procures  us,  in  order  to  ap- 
 pease his  justice.  And  amongst  those  means, 
 are  there  any  more  efficacious  and  more  propi- 
 tious for  the  ransom  of  our  sins,  than    alms- 
 
 (1)  Job  IV,  9.  (2)  Jeiem.  V,  3. 
 
( ^7A ) 
 
 deeds?  And  what  charity  more  suitable,  more 
 capable  of  mounting  to  the  throne  of  mercy  than 
 that  we  solicit  this  day  in  favor  of  our  Semi- 
 nary ?  Is  there  any  more  agreeable  to  God,  than 
 that  which  concurs  to  the  restoration  of  his  own 
 house  and  his  own  worship  ;  any,  in  short,  more 
 worthy  of  being  counted  amongst  good  works, 
 than  that  employed  to  form  the  Ministers  of  all 
 good  works,  the  Apostles  of  a  Religion  supremely 
 benevolent,  the  source  and  principle  of  every 
 virtue,  and  without  which  benevolence  is  but  a 
 name  and  virtue  a  chimera? 
 
 Hence  it  is.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  that 
 we  have  not  feared  to  order  this  year  the  ordi- 
 nary quest  in  favor  of  this  precious  establish- 
 ment, the  first  object  of  our  solicitude;  and  such 
 is   the  favourable  idea   we    entertain  of  your 
 generous  dispositions,  that  even  the  excess  of 
 public  misery  has  been  for  us  a  new  motive  of 
 confidence.     Our  hopes  even  in  this  respect  are 
 so  much  the  more  grounded,  as  charitable  souls 
 never  signalized  their  zeal  for  the  Seminary  more 
 than  in  those  sad  circumstances,  and  as  extraor- 
 dinary succours  have  happily  corresponded  to 
 the  great  and  indispensable  expenses  to  which 
 we  have  latterly  been  put  ;   so  that  now  our 
 whole  clerical  family  is  therein  installed,  and 
 
(Its) 
 
 soon,  at  least  we  hope  it  from  Divine  Provi- 
 dence, it  will  be  worlhy  in  all  respects  of  its 
 noble  and  holy  destination. , 
 
 Yes,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  it  is  a 
 pleasure  for  us  to  publish  it  aloud,  and  indeed 
 we  do  so  with  the  most  grateful  feelings.  Last 
 year's  collection,  though  far  inferior  to  that  of 
 the  preceding  ones,  and  greatly  disproportioned 
 to  our  wants,  was  yet  more  considerable  than 
 we  could  have  naturally  expected.  It  has  proved 
 that  your  charity  is  proof  against  all ;  that  it  is 
 still  stronger  than  the  inclemency  of  the  seasons; 
 that  the  Heavens  in  vain  open  their  cataracts,  and 
 the  Earth  pours  forth  its  torrents  ;  nothing  can 
 relent  it,  thus  meriting  to  have  applied  to  you 
 this  saying  of  the  Holy  Ghost :  that  the  multitude 
 of  waters  could  not  extinguish  your  charity. 
 Aquae  multce  non  potueriint  extinguere  cari- 
 tatem.  (1) 
 
 Infinite  thanks  be  then  rendered  to  the  Author 
 of  all  good,  to  Him  who  is  charity  itself  ;  and  if 
 any  thing  can  reassure  us  in  our  fears,  and  con- 
 sole us  in  our  sorrows  ;  if  our  heart  still  tells  us, 
 that  all  is  not  lost ;  that  we  must  despair  neither 
 of  our  salvation  nor  of  that  of  our  country,  and 
 that  France,-  returning  to  her  God,  as  she  has  re- 
 
 (1)  Cantic.  VIII,  7. 
 
(176) 
 
 turned  lo  her  King,  shall  reconquer  by  her 
 virtues  her  first  lustre  and  her  ancient  glory  ;  it 
 is  this,  that  we  still  behold  so  much  charity 
 amidst  the  wreck  of  so  many  fortunes,  the  ruin 
 of  so  many  families,  and  the  exhaustion  of  so 
 many  resources. 
 
 (Here  follow  the  ordinary  mitigations  and  or- 
 dinances.) 
 
 Done  at  Paris,  where  we  are  detained  by  the 
 affairs  of  our  Diocess,  under  the  seal  of  our 
 arms,  etc.  February  the  1st,  1817. 
 
 -j-   Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes. 
 
 By  Order, 
 
 FiRMiN,  Secretary. 
 
( ^^^  ) 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTION 
 
 On  the  occasion  of  Lent  and  of  his  Seminary. 
 
 Stephen  Antilojsy  de  Boulogne,  etc. 
 
 Circumstances  not  as  jet  permitting  us,   Our 
 Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  to  take  possession  of 
 the  illustrious  Metropolis,  (1)  to  the  g-overnment 
 of  which  we  have  been  called  contrary  to  our 
 expectations  and  contrary  to  our  desires,  and  of 
 course  still  your  Bishop  and  your  Pastor,  it  is 
 for  us  a  real  satisfaction  to  continue  to  instruct 
 you  at  the  approach  of  the  holy  time  of  Lent. 
 How  delightful  to  us  to  entertain  ourselves  with 
 a  Flock,  that  was  always  so  dear  to  our  heart, 
 and  whose  happiness  can  never  to  us  be  indif- 
 ferent; but  chiefly  with  a  Clergy  to   separate 
 from  whom  has  cost  us  so  many  pangs,  who 
 have    shown    us    so    many   marks  of    attach- 
 ment,   as    indeed    we    have   never   ceased    to 
 give  them  pledges  of   our   esteem  and   confi- 
 dence, and  who,  rendering  justice  to  the  senti- 
 (1)  The  Archbishopric  of  Vienne. 
 
 M 
 
(  ITS  ) 
 
 ments  llial  Jiave  always  animalecl  us  in  the  course 
 of  our  administration,  have  still  been  pleased  to 
 lliank  us,  not  only  for  the  little  good  we  have 
 had  the  means  of  doing,  but  also  for  that  which 
 time  and  the  posture  of  aflairs  have  not  suffered 
 us  to  effectuate. 
 
 Nor  indeed,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 are  you  ignorant  of  the  unfortunate  circum- 
 stances in  which  we  were  placed,  and  of  the 
 honourable  disgraces  we  have  incurred  by  our 
 courage  in  defending  the  rights  of  the  Church 
 against  audacious  enterprises  and  fatal  innova- 
 tions; and  none  of  you,  no  doubt,  could  imagine, 
 that,  in  the  midst  of  so  many  agitations  and 
 crosses,  we  could  have  abandoned  ourselves  to 
 the  multiplied  cares  of  so  vast  a  Diocess,  with 
 all  the  zeal  we  might  have  manifested  in  happier 
 and  more  tranquil  days. 
 
 Permit  us,  however,  to  say,  that,  whilst  we 
 regret  not  having  been  able  to  yield  to  the  im- 
 pulse of  our  good  will,  we  bear  with  us  the  con- 
 soling thought  that  all  our  efforts  have  not  proved 
 vain  ;  and  that,  if  we  have  not  been  able  to  re- 
 alize all  the  plans  we  had  formed  for  the  happi- 
 ness of  this  Church,  we  have  done  for  her  at 
 least  all  we  could  do  in  the  bad  days  in  which  we 
 have  lived,  and  in  the  midst  of  that  fire  of  tribu- 
 lation through  which  we  have  passed.  We  leave 
 
(  1^9  ) 
 
 behind  us  the  greatest  number  of  our  Religious 
 Communities  in  as  prosperous  a  state  as  the 
 rigour  of  eircumstances  allowed;  and  thanks  to 
 the  restoring  Government,  which  has  always  been 
 prepared  to  second  us  in  every  kind  of  good 
 works,  they  apply  themselves  with  equal  zeal 
 and  disinterestedness  to  Christian  education,  the 
 only  one  truly  popular  and  elementary ;  the  only 
 one  eminently  adapted  to  the  poor  and  to  little 
 ones  ;  the  only  one  that  can  regenerate  a  Nation, 
 which  decays  and  no  longer  recognises  itself; 
 the  only  one,  in  short,  we  recommend  more  than 
 ever  to  the  tenderness  and  vigilance  of  fathers  of 
 families,  as  the  guarantee  of  all  others,  the  sup- 
 plement of  all  others,  and  without  which  all  the 
 others  would  be  but  so  many  snares  for  virtue 
 and  for  innocence. 
 
 Why  has  it  not  been  given  us,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  to  augment  the  number  of  those 
 pious  jnstitutors,  whose  doctrine  is  as  pure  as 
 their  hearts  ?  How  deeply  we  regret  not  having 
 been  able  to  put  in  action  the  resources  which  had 
 already  been  offered  us  by  generous  souls,  for  the 
 establishment  of  two  of  those  Christian  Schools, 
 so  worthy  of  the  name.  Schools,  consecrated  by 
 the  gratitude  and  the  respect  of  every  man  of 
 virtue,  and  which  we  should  the  more  zea- 
 lously protect,  as  worldlings  fear  them ;  schools, 
 
(  180  ) 
 
 proved  by  time  and  experience,  and  insured 
 since  a  century  by  a  success  as  unquestionable  as 
 it  is  uninterrupted ;  schools,  truly  French,  mo- 
 narchical and  national,  and  as  holy  in  their  origin 
 as  unsuspected  in  their  means ;  schools,  in  a 
 word,  whose  pious  and  modest  heads  know 
 their  Pastors  as  their  Pastors  know  them.  (1) 
 They  instruct  as  much  by  example,  as  by  their 
 lessons,  and  are  for  the  education  of  the  poor, 
 what  the  daughters  of  St.  Vincent  of  Paul  are 
 for  their  assistance  and  solace. 
 
 Beautiful  and  happy  institutions,  distinguished 
 by  their  object,  but  animated  with  the  same 
 spirit ;  unaided  and  alone,  they  render  in  one 
 day  more  service  to  humanity  than  shall  ever  do 
 all  those  scientific  speculators,  who  wish  togovern 
 all,  from  Children  to  Kings,  and  renew  all,  both 
 Schools  and  Empires. 
 
 But  obliged  as  we  are,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  to  suspend  so  important  an  under- 
 taking, which  we  leave  to  the  zeal  of  our  suc- 
 cessor, we  have  at  least  the  satisfaction  of  having 
 consolidated  this  truly  fundamental  School,  on 
 which  all  the  others  seem  to  repose,  our  Semi- 
 nary, which  Providence  has  blessed  with  its 
 most  chosen  favors,  and  which  is  at  once  the  joy 
 
 (1)  John  X,  U. 
 
(  181  ) 
 
 and  crown  of  our  Episcopacy.  We  have  there 
 seen  more  than  two  hundred  young  Students, 
 and  the  number  is  scarcely  diminished  this  day  ; 
 and,  what  it  is  indeed  but  justice  to  pubUsh  here, 
 for  the  satisfaction  of  the  generous  souls  that 
 have  seconded  us,  all  those  young  labourers  who 
 have  gone  forth  from  this  School  of  Virtue,  and 
 on  whom  we  have  imposed  hands,  now  cultivate 
 the  vineyard  of  the  Lord  with  the  most  edifying 
 success,  and  render  no  less  honour  to  the  vener- 
 able Priests  who  so  well  inspired  them  with  the 
 taste  of  their  calling,  than  service  to  the  Pastors, 
 whose  labours  and  holy  solicitude  they  share. 
 
 How  much  should  you  applaud  yourselves, 
 Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  for  having  so  much 
 forwarded;  by  your  charities,  this  precious  esta- 
 blishment! What  more  powerful  incentive  not 
 only  not  to  interrupt,  but  even  to  augment  the 
 current  of  those  pious  succours,  that  have  pro- 
 duced such  happy  and  consoling  fruits  !  No 
 doubt,  a  new  ray  of  hope  shines  this  day  on  those 
 sacred  retreats  of  science  and  piety,  without 
 which  Beligion  could  no  more  exist  than  the 
 State  without  Religion.  No  doubt,  we  should 
 expect  other  ameliorations  from  this  late  traiis^ 
 action,  (1)  happily  concluded  between  the  sue- 
 
 (1)  The  Concordat  oi  1817. 
 
(  182  ) 
 
 cessor  of  St.  Peter  and  the  son  of  St.  Lewis.  All 
 ihis;,  however,  we  are  bold  to  assert  it,  is  but  a 
 new  engagement  for  truly  Christian  souls  to  se- 
 cond, by  every  means  in  their  power,  the  reli- 
 gious views  of  our  Monarch  ;  a  new  obligation 
 imposed  on  us  of  insuring,  by  the  concurrence 
 of  our  good  works,  the  various  advantages  which 
 Religion  and  the  State  should  expect  from  so  great 
 an  event.  May  it  call  into  new  life  this  beautiful 
 and  ancient  Gallican  Church,  the  honour  of 
 France,  and  the  admiration  of  Christendom  !  (1) 
 May  it  restore  to  the  sacred  Ministers,  what  only 
 they  are  ambitious  of,  the  means  of  doing  good, 
 and  that  noble  independence,  without  which  they 
 could  never  do  it  I  May  it  give  to  the  throne 
 new  supports,  to  the  country  new  defenders,  to 
 public  order  new  securities,  to  impiety  new  ob- 
 stacles, to  France  a  new  life,  and  shed  on  the 
 King  and  his  august  race  new  graces  and  bene- 
 dictions I 
 
 But  there  is.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 another  duty,  no  less  important  and  sacred  for  a 
 Bishop  than  that  of  clerical  education,  we  mean  the 
 maintenance  of  the  holy  rules,  and  of  the  sacred 
 deposit  of  Doctrine,  in  order  that  unity  may  be 
 
 (1)  Discourse  of  his  Excellency  the  Minister  of  the  In- 
 terior, to  the  Cliamber  of  Deputies. 
 
(183) 
 
 preserved,  and  that  Christ  Jesus  he  not  divided.  (1 ) 
 You  know  llie  deadly  blows  that  were  directed 
 against  them  in  the  days  of  our  honourable  dis- 
 graces, by  a  Presbyterial  Administration  which^ 
 of  ils  own  private  authority,  invaded  our  juris- 
 diction. In  vain  the  most  considerable,  and  un- 
 questionably the  sounder  portion  of  the  Chapter 
 disclaimed  it.  In  vain  all  the  respectable  and 
 learned  men  amono-st  the  Parish-Priests  refused 
 lo  recognise  those  Vicars-General  who  created 
 themselves.  In  vain  did  we  make  known,  as 
 much  as  our  rigorous  position  could  permit  it, 
 that  there  could  exist  no  other  Yicars-General 
 than  our  own.  In  vain  did  the  Sovereign  Pontiff, 
 several  times  consulted  on  the  subject,  confirm, 
 as  we  here  attest  it,  our  own  decision,  and  con- 
 stantly recognise  us  as  your  only  and  true  Bishop. 
 Weak  and  coward  hearts  thought  otherwise  ; 
 the  will  of  the  persecutor  prevailed,  and  by  his 
 tyrannic  orders,  instrusion  usurped  the  place  of 
 legitimate  authority. 
 
 We  have  omitted  nothing,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  to  repair  this  scandal.  After 
 having  made  known  our  appeal  in  the  Christian 
 pulpit,  we  have  since  several  times  protested  in 
 our  instructions,  and  in  the  name  of  the  Church, 
 
 (1)  I.  Cor.  I,  13. 
 
(  184  ) 
 
 against  the  injury  clone  to  the  Church.  We  have 
 ordered,  that  all  the  illegal  acts,  which  might  be 
 found  in  the  Register  of  our  Chapter,  should  dis- 
 appear, and  that  there  should  remain  no  trace 
 of  deliberations  more  than  irregular.  We  have 
 declared  null  and  of  no  effect  whatever  powers 
 might  have  been  given  by  the  invaders  of  our 
 jurisdiction,  and  we  have  alike  suppressed  them 
 in  the  Registers  of  our  Secretary-office,  and  ne- 
 vertheless we  have  rendered  those  powers  valid 
 for  the  tranquillity  of  the  Faithful,  whose  good 
 faith  formed  for  them  what  the  Church  calls  a 
 coloured  title.  In  fine,  we  have  ordered,  that 
 all  the  nominations  to  Parish  Churches  and  others, 
 as  well  as  all  Letters  of  Ordination  and  all  Per- 
 missions, bearing  the  seal  of  an  imaginary  va- 
 cancy, and  not  clad  with  our  Signature,  should 
 be  sent  back  to  us  in  order  to  procure  new  ones. 
 This  has  been  executed.  Thereby  have  we  effa- 
 ced every  vestige  of  schism  and  every  pretext  of 
 discord.  This,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 is  what  we  believed  ourselves  in  duty  obliged  to 
 do,  for  the  honour  of  our  Episcopal  character, 
 the  maintenance  of  peace  and  discipline,  and  the 
 discharge  of  our  conscience.  No  doubt  we  might 
 have  done  more.  We  might  have  required  of  the 
 guilty  canonical  penance  and  satisfaction.  We 
 might  have  branded  l>y  our  censures  an  erro~ 
 
(  185) 
 
 neous  writing,  and  punished  its  rash  author  ac- 
 cording to  the  rigour  of  the  holj  canons.     We 
 might,  in  fine,  according  to  the  Apostle,  have 
 reprimanded  forcibly ,  and  firmly  corrected  our 
 contradictors ;   (1)  but  for  ever  guided   by  our 
 heart-felt  sentiments  of  indulgence  and  modera- 
 tion, we  have  preferred  exhorting  them  in  all 
 patience  and  awaiting  them  in  all  charity.  (2) 
 In  omni patient i(i  et  doctrind.    It  is  thus  we  still 
 exhort  them  to  those  satisfactory  proceedings, 
 from  which  nothing  can  exempt  them.    Certain 
 men,  always  ready  to  protect  insubordination,  and 
 to  judge  their  own  judges ;    as  slow  to  enlighten 
 themselves,  as  prompt  to  decide  on  matters  as 
 much  out  of  their  reach  as  their  competency, 
 may,  perhaps,  misconstrue  into  oppression  the 
 smallest  marks  of    our  disapproval,    and  into 
 excess  of  rigour  the  very  excess  of  our  cautious 
 indulgence.     But  wise  men  and  the  true  friends 
 of  the  Church  are  far  differently  affected.   They 
 have  deemed  that  we  could  not,  without  failing 
 in  our  first  duties,  have  been  silent  under  such 
 circumstances,  and  thus  deceive  the  Faithful  by 
 a  shameful  compromise  with  the  violation  of  the 
 most  sacred  canons.     They  do  deem,  that  the 
 only  reproach  which  can  be  made  us  before  God 
 
 (1)  Epist.  to  Titus,  I,  19.  (2)  Tim.  IV,  2. 
 
(  186  ) 
 
 and  man,  is  perhaps  not  to  have  advanced  as  lar 
 as  the  line  of  duty,  and  not  having  thus  accom- 
 plished all  justice. 
 
 However  it  may  be.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, we  have  the  satisfaction  of  leaving-  our 
 Diocess  in  the  greatest  harmony  on  all  the  points 
 which  concern  Churcli  Government,  and  notably 
 on  the  double  nullity  of  an  extorted  and  non- 
 accepted  abdication ;  and  whatever  may  think 
 on  the  subject  certain  men,  interested  in  support- 
 ing a  bad  cause,  in  publishing,  in  the  teeth  of 
 evidence,  that  the  Diocess  is  divided,  we  have 
 the  consolation  of  leaving  it  on  this  point  in 
 the  most  perfect  concord ;  and  we  delight  to 
 see,  that,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  individuals 
 without  authority,  and  whose  number  is  in  all 
 respects  a  mere  nullity,  all  are  united  with  us  in 
 heart  and  soul ;  all  glory  in  holding  the  same 
 doctrine  with  their  first  Pastor ;  all  condemn  the 
 conduct  of  those  who  should  dare  to  separate 
 themsehes,  and  thus  forget  the  beautiful  maxim  of 
 thegreatlrenoBus,  so  much  and  so  often  developed 
 in  his  Writings,  that  the  Bishop  is  in  the  Church, 
 and  the  Church  in  the  Bishop,  and  that  he  who 
 is  not  with  the  Bishop  is  not  in  the  Church  : 
 Scire  clehes  Episcopum  in  Ecclesid  esse,  et  Ec- 
 clesiatn  in  Episcopo  :  et  si  quis  cum  Episcopo 
 non  sit,  in  Ecclesid non  esse,  (Epist.  ad  Magncs.) 
 
(  187  ) 
 
 Such,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  is  Ihe 
 succinct  account  of  our  conduct,  and  the  declara- 
 tion of  our  sentiments,  which  long  since  we  have 
 been  solicited  to  state  by  the  Faithful  and  the 
 Pastors  of  our  Diocess,  for  their  own  instruction 
 and  the  direction  of  their  consciences.  Such  is 
 the  solemn  protest  we  have  wished  to  consign  in 
 the  archives  of  the  Church  of  Troyes.  We  owed 
 it  to  ourselves  and  to  the  preservation  of  the  true 
 principles,  of  which  we  are  the  natural  guardians 
 and  the  first  depositaries,  as  established  by  Christ 
 to  govern  the  flock,  (1 )  We  owed  it  to  our  suc- 
 cessors, in  order  that  they  may  not  accuse  us  of 
 having  sacrificed  the  truth  to  trifling  considera- 
 tions, unworthy  of  our  ministry.  We  owed  it  to 
 our  colleagues  in  the  Prelacy,  who  in  our  cause 
 have  all  beholden  their  own.  We  owed  it  to  the 
 Sovereigrn  Pontiff,  who  has  honoured  us  with 
 two  Rescripts,  in  which  he  has  deigned  to  give 
 us  the  most  flattering  marks  of  his  approbation 
 and  his  esteem.  We  owed  it  to  the  glory  of  those 
 our  first  co-operators,  who  never  in  those  diffi- 
 cult times  bent  the  knee  to  Baal,  and  who  have 
 defended,  at  the  risk  of  their  personal  liberty, 
 the  sacred  rights  of  Episcopacy.     We  owed  it 
 
 (1)  I   Cor.  V,9. 
 
(  188  ) 
 
 even  to  those,  who,  availing  themselves  of  our 
 silence^  turned  against  us  the  delays  of  our  pa- 
 ternal circumspection.  We  owed  it,  in  a  word, 
 to  history,  that  it  may  not  be  deceived,  and  to 
 posterity  that  they  may  know,  that,  in  the  days 
 of  persecution,  the  Church  of  France  was  not 
 wanting  to  herself,  and  that  she  never  believed, 
 that  her  Pontiffs  could  lose  their  spiritual  rights 
 by  the  single  fact  of  superior  force,  and  that  a 
 tyrant  could  enchain  all  their  powers,  whenever 
 he  should  enchain  their  persons. 
 
 How  can  we  better  conclude,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  than  by  addressing  you  this 
 advice  of  the  Prophet;  love  peace  and  truth, 
 pacem  et  veritatem  diligite.  Admirable  expres- 
 sion, the  most  beautiful,  perhaps,  and  the  most 
 fruitful  that  has  ever  dropped  from  the  mouth  of 
 the  Holy  Ghost ;  expression,  which  comprehends 
 the  whole  science  of  Religion  and  the  entire  rule 
 of  human  life  ;  expression,  more  applicable  than 
 ever  to  this  age  of  indiiference  and  relaxation, 
 which,  under  the  vain  pretext  of  not  reviving 
 disputes,  s,eeks  only  to  extinguish  the  zeal  of 
 discipline  ;  which  counts  peace  as  all,  and  truth 
 as  nothing  :  without  reflecting  that  one  cannot 
 exist  without  the  other,  and  that  truth  alone  is 
 the  mother  of  peace  and  the  pledge  of  concord; 
 
(  189  ) 
 
 as  the  contempt  of  rules  is  the  source  of  schism 
 and  the  principle  of  dissensions,  pacem  et  verita- 
 tern  diligite. 
 
 Let  us  then  love  peace,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  it  is  the  greatest  of  all  goods,  without 
 which  we  could  enjoy  no  other;  but  let  us  be- 
 ware of  those  who  would  not  wish  to  obtain  it 
 but  at  the  expense  of  order  and  discipline.  Let 
 us  love  peace  without  prejudice  to  the  truth ; 
 but  let  us  beware  of  those,  who  should  hesitate 
 to  sacrifice  to  it  their  erroneous  opinions,  then 
 wounded  self-love,  and  their  defeated  vanity. 
 Let  us  love  peace  in  the  unity  of  the  Church  and 
 its  doctrine,  and  in  submission  to  those  charged 
 by  Christ  himself  to  teach  it  to  others.  Such  is 
 the  only  profitable  peace,  the  only  one  Religion 
 can  recognise.  All  other  peace  is  no  peace,  but 
 war  and  chaos :  it  is  not  edification,  but  destruc- 
 tion -J  not  union,  but  discord  :  pacem  et  verita- 
 tem  diligite. 
 
 May  we.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  be- 
 queath you  those  two  great  goods,  this  double 
 inheritance,  including  in  itself  the  promises  of 
 the  present  life  and  those  of  the  future  :  may 
 this  instruction,  perhaps  the  last  we  address  you 
 in  pledge  of  our  tenderness,  crown  all  our  wishes ; 
 in  cementing,  by  the  reconciliation  of  minds, 
 the  reconciliation  of  hearts  I     And  oh  I   may  the 
 
(  190  ) 
 
 Church  of  Trojes  repay  us,  in  recollections  and 
 in  prayers,  all  the  regrets  we  offer  her,  all  the 
 interest  we  bear  her,  and  all  the  wishes  and  the 
 blessings  we  leave  her ! 
 
 Hitherto,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  we 
 had  established,  in  favour  of  our  Seminary,  com- 
 pensatory alms  that  might  replace,  if  not  the  fast, 
 at  least  the  abstinence  of  Lent.  We  had  be- 
 lieved this  measure  necessary  to  give  a  new  im- 
 pulse to  public  charity.  It  was  even  in  the  spirit 
 of  the  Church,  as  she  often  grants  to  her  first 
 Pastors  the  right  of  dispensing,  for  a  greater 
 good,  in  the  most  rigorous  obligations  j  but  we 
 think,  that  this  concession  should  have  an  end, 
 lest  too  frequent  exceptions  should  bear  on  the 
 rule  itself,  and  draw  on  the  neglect  of  the  sacred 
 duty  of  an  abstinence  as  ancient  as  the  Church 
 herself.  We  think  then  that  we  should,  this 
 year,  put  a  stop  to  this  compensation,  allowing 
 at  the  same  time  to  each  Pastor  the  faculty  of 
 granting  in  this  respect  the  dispensations  he  shall 
 judge  suitable  and  necessary.  But  we  as  strongly 
 insist  on  your  obligation  of  coming  to  the  aid  of 
 an  establishment  which  should  so  much  the  more 
 nearly  interest  you,  as  it  is  partly  your  own 
 work.  We  are  as  strongly  persuaded,  that  you 
 will  contribute  with  new  ardour  to  the  great  and 
 indispensable  expenses  its  wants  command ;  and 
 
(191  ) 
 
 that,  like  perfect  Christians,  jou  will  thus  unite 
 penanee  and  charity,  the  two  great  complemen- 
 tary virtues  of  our  Religion,  and  which  lend 
 each  other  a  mutual  support ;  penance,  which 
 curbs  the  senses,  and  charity,  which  enflames 
 the  heart;  penance,  which  deadens  the  ignoble 
 desires  and  carnal  concupiscences,  and  charity, 
 which  enkindles  all  the  high  and  generous  pas- 
 sions ;  penance,  which  causes  to  flow  the  happy 
 tears  that  prepare  salvation,  and  charity  which 
 assures  and  accomplishes  it  ;  penance,  which 
 stays  the  arm  of  an  avenging  God,  and  charity 
 which  ensures  his  mercy.  In  a  word,  penance, 
 which  appeases  Heaven,  and  charity  which  opens 
 it. 
 
 Here  follow  the  regulations  of  the  fast,  etc. 
 
 Done  at  Paris,  etc.  etc.  etc.  January  17th,  1818. 
 "i*  Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes. 
 
 Ey  Order, 
 
 De  Boxjkdeille,  C.  Secretary. 
 
(  192  ) 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTION 
 
 On  the  publication  of  bad  books,  and,  chiefly,  on  the 
 Complete  Editions  of  the  Works  of  Voltaire  and 
 Rousseau. 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Boulogne,  etc. 
 
 Of  all  the  scandals,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, that  have  hitherto  afflicted  Religion  and 
 Virtue,  there  is  none  more  alarming  in  its  conse- 
 quences, none  more  calculated  to  draw  down  on 
 France  new  calamities,  than  the  publication  of 
 so  many  impious  writings,  which  circulate  every 
 day  with  as  much  boldness  as  impunity.  With 
 what  sorrow  do  TVe  not  behold  our  Diocess 
 daily  more  infested  with  their  pompous  adver- 
 tisements and  their  fatal  prospectus,  multiplied, 
 now  more  than  ever,  under  a  thousand  different 
 forms.     It  is  now,  indeed,  when  the  wounds  in- 
 
(  193  ) 
 
 flicted  on  the  country  by  an  impious  philosophy 
 are  still  bleeding-,  when  we  are  scarcely  deli- 
 vered from  our  long-  aHtations  and  cruel  misfor- 
 tunes  :  when  the  scarce  extinguished  volcano  is 
 still  smoking-,  and  leaves  us  in  the  horrid  uncer- 
 tainty whether  its  crater  shall  ever  close;  it  is 
 this  sad  and  critical  moment  they  have  chosen 
 to  open  new  sources  of  corruption,  and  scatter 
 new  seeds  of  dissension  and  discord,  new  fire- 
 brands, only  made  to  rekindle  the  conflagration 
 that  was  but  beginning  to  abate. 
 
 What  then!  Has  not  France  been  already 
 sufficiently  perverted  not  to  be  plunged  into  a 
 deeper  perversity?  Is  she  not  ill-fated  enough 
 not  to  throw  new  obstacles  against  her  return  to- 
 wards order  and  peace,  towards  Virtue  and  Re- 
 ligion, the  only  balm  of  her  misfortunes,  the 
 only  remedy  for  her  wounds?  It  is  then  true, 
 that  there  still  exist  men  whom  no  experience 
 can  correct,  no  misfortune  enlighten  ?  Great 
 God !  and  what  blow  must  you  still  strike,  if  all 
 the  scourges  with  which  you  have  visited  us, 
 have  not  rendered  us  more  circumspect  and 
 more  cautious?  We  find,  indeed,  in  Holy  writ, 
 that  the  Lord  shall  pour  forth  on  the  Nations  the 
 spirit  of  infatuation  and  give  them  up  to  their 
 own  madness,  and  our  eyes  this  day  witness  the 
 most  exact  and  literal  accomplishment  of  this 
 
 N 
 
(  194  ) 
 
 awful  prophecy.     Alas  !  who  could  have  lold  us 
 thirty  years  ago,  that  those  same  authors,  whose 
 persons  had  been  branded  by  our  Magistrates, 
 whose  works  had  been  burnt  by  the  hands  of  the 
 public  Executioner,  would  be  now  re-printed  and 
 re-published  with  all  the  luxury  of  art,  and  an 
 unexampled  pomp  of  impiety,  and  that  we  should 
 read  on  the  doors  of  our  Temples  this  new  de- 
 fiance to  public  morals,  this  new  declaration  of 
 war  against  Religion  and  her  Ministers  ?  AVhen, 
 conformably  to  the  pious  intentions  of  our  au- 
 gust Monarchy  we  did  order  expiatory  prayers 
 and  public  reparations  for  the  bloody  outrages 
 done   to    our  holy  Religion    in    the    frightful 
 days  of  the  Revolution,  who  then   could  have 
 told  us,  that  we   should  hear  publicly  cried  up 
 the  editions  of  those  same  books  which  served  as 
 the  catechism  of  profanation  and  the  symbol  of 
 sacrilege  ?     What  then  means  the  Government, 
 Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  when  it  so  often 
 invokes  Heaven  in  its  wants  by  the  organ  of  the 
 first  Pastors?     What  mean  those  public  vows, 
 those  solemn  sacrifices  offered  up  in  the  name 
 of  the  Nation  and  of  Public  Power,  whenever  we 
 have  some  blessing  to  demand,  some  calamity  to 
 avert,   or  some   acts  of  thanksgiving  to  make. 
 Those  vows,  those  prayers,  this  concurrence  of 
 the  two  Authorities,  which  proves  so  clearly  that 
 
(  195  ) 
 
 ihej  make  but  one  inseparable  whole,  would  all 
 this  be  but  an  empty  form  and  an  unmeaning 
 ceremony  ?  Is  their  object  to  appease  Heaven, 
 or  to  irritate  it ;  to  obtain  the  prosperity  of  the 
 kingdom,  or  to  draw  down  on  it  a  new  ven- 
 geance? Who  then  shall  explain  to  us  this 
 strange  contradiction  between  the  Nation  and 
 the  Nation,  the  laws  and  the  laws,  our  morals 
 and  our  morals,  ourselves  and  ourselves? 
 
 We  shall  here  refrain,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  from  unfolding  before  you  those 
 shameful  depositories  of  impiety  and  licentious- 
 ness, re-published  to-day  by  a  vile  cupidity, 
 which  contain  so  many  writings,  whose  very 
 names  would  profane  our  pen.  We  shall  satisfy 
 our  duty  and  your  wants  by  saying,  that  nothing 
 can  be  more  fatal  to  you  as  Christians  and  French- 
 men, nothing  more  injure  your  morals  and  your 
 faith,  than  the  lecture  of  those  works  of  dark- 
 ness, amongst  which  we  should  signalize  those 
 of  the  two  arch-enemies  of  Christianity,  the  two 
 greatest  corrupters  that  ever  existed  of  the  hu- 
 man race.  A  certain  class  of  men,  interested 
 to  sport  with  the  credulity  of  the  simple,  and 
 who  in  this  point  lie  as  much  to  evidence  as  to 
 themselves,  will  tell  you  that  there  is  only  ques- 
 tion of  certain  light  blemishes,  some  points  of 
 doctrine  more  or  less  erroneous,  certain  asser- 
 
(  10G  ) 
 
 tionsniore  or  less  temerarious,  that  have  escaped 
 an  inattentive  pen.  No,  it  is  a  plan  of  attack, 
 followed  up  with  as  much  perfidy  as  boldness, 
 against  the  Throne  and  the  Altar ;  it  is  all  the 
 insolence  of  falsehood,  which  can  only  be  sur- 
 passed by  that  of  blasphemy.  It  is  modesty  in- 
 dignantly decried,  and  the  majesty  of  sacred 
 worship  trodden  under  foot.  On  the  one  hand, 
 it  is  the  fanaticism  of  philosophy  in  all  the  pa- 
 roxysms of  its  fury;  on  the  other,  apolitical  fana- 
 ticism in  the  last  stage  of  its  delirium.  In  the 
 Philosopher  of  Ferney,  what  a  revolting  cynic  ! 
 What  atrocious  malignity  I  What  an  overflow  of 
 gall!  What  open  contempt  of  truth,  decorum, 
 and  equity!  What  does  he  mock  the  more,  his 
 readers,  or  his  own  judgment  ?  What  the  more 
 travesty,  holy  writ,  history,  or  himself?  In  the 
 Citizen  of  Geneva,  what  vile  egotism  !  What  a 
 disgusting  miscellany  of  mock  modesty  and  un- 
 bridled pride  ?  What  a  deplorable  talent  of 
 defending,  with  the  same  dexterity,  truth  and 
 falsehood,  both  sides  of  the  question  !  What  an 
 absence  of  all  fitness  !  Is  it  in  his  actions,  or  else 
 in  his  ideas,  we  shall  the  more  discover  his 
 singularity^  his  inconsistency,  his  disorders  ? 
 The  first  replies  to  every  thing  by  sarcasms,  and 
 gives  us  his  epigrams  for  demonstration  ;  the  se- 
 cond lays  down,  as  the  first  principles  of  things. 
 
(  197  ) 
 
 the  ravings  of  his  sick  imagination.  The  first, 
 noted  for  falsehood  and  vanity,  is  the  favourite 
 patron  of  frivolous  aspirants  in  literature,  of 
 half-scholars,  and  superficial  minds  ;  the  second, 
 noted  for  sophistry  and  paradox,  is  the  cherished 
 idol  of  visionaries,  of  men  of  systems,  and  hot 
 heads.  The  one  has  placed  virtue  in  the  rank 
 of  ridicule,  which  is  the  greatest  of  crimes  ;  the 
 other  has  placed  the  passions  in  the  rank  of  the 
 virtues,  and  thereby  divinised  vice,  and  this  is 
 the  last  degree  of  immorality.  Both,  in  a  word, 
 divided  in  opinion  and  interest,  and  opposed  to 
 each  other  by  the  very  temper  of  their  mind 
 and  character,  have  only  united  in  the  same  am- 
 bition of  upturning  all,  and  have  advanced  by 
 dilFerent  ways  towards  the  same  end — that  of 
 universal  corruption  and  destruction. 
 
 Such  are  the  two  heroesof  impiety,  pompously 
 proposed  this  day  to  our  admiration,  as  the 
 models  and  the  oracles  of  the  age  I  Such  the 
 Complete  Works  which  shall  steel  anew  the 
 arms  of  every  libertine,  of  every  lover  of  novelty 
 and  revolution;  and  which  are  now  re-published 
 at  the  very  lowest  price,  in  order  that  their  cir- 
 culation may  be  more  ready  and  more  rapid, 
 their  poison  more  easily  insinuate  itself  into  every 
 vein  of  the  social  body,  and  their  acquisition  be- 
 come thereby  as  easy  to  the  poor  as  to  the  rich. 
 
(  198  ) 
 
 to  the  small  and  to  the  great,  to  the  young  as  to 
 the  old,  and  that  the  whole  French  people  may 
 drink  at  full  draughts  in  this  cup  of  prostitution 
 and  lies.  Great  God  !  and  what  have  the  peo- 
 ple to  do  with  such  Works?  What  profit  therein 
 for  their  repose  and  happiness?  What  shall  the 
 poor  do  with  them,  and  what  resources  shall 
 they  there  find  in  their  afflictions?  What  con- 
 solation for  the  old  in  their  decline  of  life? 
 What  lessons  to  forward  the  youth  in  the  ways 
 of  wisdom?  Where  is  the  honest  man,  that 
 would  dare  to  put  them  in  the  hands  of  his  chil- 
 dren, the  master  in  those  of  his  pupils  ?  What, 
 then,  are  those  Works  which  we  could  not  read 
 without  blushing  in  any  school,  nor  introduce 
 without  danger  into  any  family  ?  Far  from  Us, 
 those  books  of  education,  wherein  the  teachers 
 would  learn  to  corrupt  their  scholars,  and  these 
 latter  to  despise  their  teachers ;  wherein  servants 
 can  only  learn  the  art  of  betraying  their  masters; 
 children,  lessons  of  disobedience  and  ingratitude 
 towards  their  parents  ;  parents,  lessons  of  indif- 
 ference and  cruelty  for  their  children  ;  spouses, 
 lessons  of  adultery;  young  men,  lessons  of  liber- 
 tinism; the  unfortunate,  lessons  of  suicide;  sub-, 
 jecls,  lessons  of  insubordination  and  revolt  ; 
 kings,  lessons  of  disquiet  and  distrust,  which 
 conduct  to  tyranny  ;  and  all,  of  whataver  age  and 
 
(  199  ) 
 
 condition,  lessons  of  delirious  and  fanatical  im- 
 piety. And  for  whom  can  those  Complete 
 Works  be  specially  destined,  if  not  for  those 
 schools  of  prostitution,  where  Rousseau  himself, 
 and  he  dares  to  say  it,  wishes  his  pupils  to  be 
 conducted,  in  order  that  they  may  be  formed  to 
 virtue,  and  make  a  course  of  education  and  mo- 
 rality ?  Execrable  counsel,  and  truly  worthy  of 
 the  maniac  who  styled  himself  by  excellence  the 
 Man  of  Nature  ! 
 
 Tlie  true  friends  of  the  state  and  of  morals,  as 
 indeed  the  warmest  partisans  of  the  reputation 
 of  those  two  writers,  would  not  have  given  their 
 Complete  Works  ;  they  would  have  left  them  to 
 enjoy  their  obscurity  in  certain  libraries  ,*  they 
 would  have  made  a  selection',  for  which  honest 
 men  might  have  been  thankful  to  them;  they 
 would  have  discerned  the  works  which  good 
 taste  and  decency  could  adopt,  from  those  dis- 
 avowed alike  by  morality,  truth,  and  propriety. 
 They  would  have  carefully  separated  the  gold 
 or  tinsel  mixed  with  so  much  dregs,  though  the 
 gold  itself  is  never  without  alloy,  and  they  would 
 have  spared  us  so  many  fatal  and  deplorable  pro- 
 ductions, which  can  only  serve  to  blast  the  me- 
 mory of  the  masters,  and  corrupt  the  mind  and 
 heart  of  the  disciples.  Unless,  indeed,  they  would 
 pretend,  that  the  good  things  they  contain  can 
 
(  200  ) 
 
 make  us  forget  the  bad  ones ;  that  certain  rea- 
 sonable sentiments  can  become  the  passport  ol 
 criminal  maxims ;  that  the  advantage  of  orna- 
 menting the  mind  can  counterbalance  the  evil  of 
 sulljing  the  imagination  and  falsifying  the  judg- 
 ment, and  that  we  can  compensate,  by  the  lec- 
 ture of  fine  verses  and  brilliant  pages,  for  the 
 total  loss  of  morals,  the  studied  contempt  of 
 holy  things,  the  degradation  of  our  country*s 
 religion,  and  the  perversion  of  its  ardent  and 
 impassioned  youth,  who  may  indeed  love  fine 
 poetry,  but  who  far  prefer  licentious  romances 
 and  obscene  tales. 
 
 Besides,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  what  need 
 have  we  of  all  those  Complete  TVoihs,  of  those 
 thirty  volumes  of  impious  railleries  and  sacrile- 
 gious sarcasms?  Is  it  then  indispensably  neces- 
 sary, that  the  most  venerable  objects  should  be 
 condemned  to  an  eternal  ridicule  ?  Is  it  true, 
 that  this  spirit  of  philosophical  persecution  is  not 
 yet  extinguished ;  that  it  is  rather  compressed 
 than  healed,  and  that,  to  show  itself  anew,  it 
 only  awaits  the  moment  and  the  opportunity? 
 To  what  purpose  these  shameful  repertories  of 
 cynic  buffoonery  and  burlesque  witticisms,  the 
 wanton  and  light  sports  of  a  giddy  pen  ?  Have 
 we,  then,  reason  to  jest  on  what  we  have  seen, 
 or  to  laugh  at  what  we  wilniess?     Are  we  in  the 
 
(  201   ) 
 
 time  of  joy,  or  in  that  of  sadness?  Inthe  lime 
 of  amusing-  ourselves  at  the  expense  of  morality, 
 or  in  that  of  shedding  bitter  tears  on  our  misfor- 
 tunes and  our  crimes?  What  have  we  to  do 
 with  those  quaint  Utopias,  and  all  the  political 
 ravings  of  the  Genevan  Philosopher?  Would 
 we  go  back  to  the  beauteous  days  of  liberty  and 
 the  Republic,  plan  new  conspiracies  against  the 
 State,  and  hazard  once  more  French  civili- 
 zation ? 
 
 Must  we,  then,  recommence  at  new  costs,  and 
 under-build,  at  our  risk  and  peril,  our  civic  edu- 
 cation? What  use  shall  we  make  of  all  their  dull 
 and  disgusting  Homilies  on  fanaticism,  as  if  there 
 were  any  other  fanaticism  than  their  own?  On  ty- 
 ranny, as  if  there  were  any  other  than  theirs?  On 
 superstition,  as  if  impietyhad  not  taken  its  place? 
 On  toleration,  as  if  every  thing,  even  their  sediti- 
 ous doctrine  and  sacrilegious  writings,  were  not 
 tolerated?  What  shall  we  do  with  those  antiqua- 
 ted declamations  on  the  disputes  of  Theologians, 
 when  there  are  no  more  disputes  but  amongst 
 the  Philosophers  of  the  day,  who  no  longer  'un- 
 derstand each  other,  and  who  will  yet  long  dis- 
 pute before  they  can  come  to  an  agreement? 
 In  short,  to  what  purpose  all  those  common 
 places,  not  less  contrary  to  truth  than  good  taste, 
 on  the  evils  produced  by  religion,  while  we  have 
 
(  202  ) 
 
 slill  before  our  eyes  the  frightful  evils  inflicted 
 by  Philosophy?  What  mean  the  partizans  of 
 the  Complete  and  even  of  the  Posthumous 
 Works?  Is  not  their  author's  wish  accom- 
 plished, and  is  not  Religion  crushed  F  They 
 wished  to  close  up  our  cloisters,  and  have  they 
 not  been  closed  up?  To  proscribe  Religious, 
 and  have  they  not  been  proscribed?  To  pull 
 down  our  temples,  and  have  they  not  been 
 pulled  down  ?  To  despoil  the  Clergy,  and  have 
 they  not  been  despoiled?  In  a  word,  has  not 
 every  thing  they  wished  for  succeeded  beyond 
 their  hopes?  If  they  came  back  to  the  world, 
 would  they  not  be  transported  with  joy  on  find- 
 ing that  they  have  accomplished  all  we  have 
 witnessed? 
 
 The  three-fourths  of  the  Complete  Works 
 are  then  out  of  season,  and  can  have  no  applica- 
 tion in  the  present  position  of  things.  They 
 then  can  only  lose  by  their  publication,  unless 
 indeed  we  are  told  that  every  thing  that  favours 
 more  or  less  the  spirit  of  licentiousness  and  liber- 
 tinism is  always  in  season;  that  blasphemies  are 
 as  ancient  as  the  world,  and  that  nothing,  which 
 may  lend  to  degrade  Religion  and  its  Ministers, 
 could  be  inopportune  ;  unless  they  pretend  that 
 all  is  not  yet  accomplished,  that  we  must  have 
 new  convulsions  still  more  to  purify  men  and 
 
(  203  ) 
 
 matters  ;  that  the  liberal  intentions  of  those  two 
 grand  Reformers  are  not  entirely  fulfilled,  that 
 the^y  have  bequeathed  us  other  misfortunes,  other 
 plans  of  destruction  and  ruin  ;  that  we  must 
 hasten  to  work  again  those  fruitful  mines  of  po- 
 licy and  philosophy,  where  the  people  may  ex- 
 plore new  rights.  Princes  new  chains,  and  both 
 new  lessons  on  the  better  organization  of  our 
 social  perfection. 
 
 What,  then,  can  authorize  such  licentious- 
 ness; what  pretext  can  be  alleged  to  legalize 
 those  scandalous  editions?  Shall  we  be  told,  that 
 they  are  the  natural  consequence  of  the  liberty 
 of  the  Press?  We  shall  not  here  examine  to 
 what  point  we  might  admit  this  consequence  ; 
 still  less  shall  we  discuss  the  nature  of  this  liberty, 
 on  which  our  great  wits  have  not  yet  been  able 
 to  fix  a  settled  opinion,  and  which  is  still  in  the 
 class  of  our  greatest  political  problems.  But  we 
 shall  not  hesitate  to  say,  what  cannot  be  called 
 in  question  by  any  one  that  has  not  renounced 
 common  sense,  that,  if  the  printing  of  this  kind 
 of  works  be  a  natural  consequence  of  the  liberty 
 of  the  Press,  we  should  look  upon  this  liberty  as 
 the  most  deadly  and  incurable  wound  inflicted 
 on  the  body  of  society.  We  do  assert,  that  a 
 Stale  which  would  tolerate  such  a  liberty,  would 
 expose  itself  to  the  greatest  misfortun#>,  and 
 would  merit  them  by  becoming  the  accomplice 
 
(  204  ) 
 
 of  public  corruption;  that  we  can  no  more  have 
 the  liberty  to  print,  and  publicly  hawk,  about 
 those  impious  writings,  than  to  deal  out  poison- 
 ous drugs,  or  sell  false  keys  for  the  use  of  rob- 
 bers; and  that,  if  eacli  man  is  free  to  print  his 
 opinions,  it  does  not  follow  that  he  is  free  lo  print 
 his  criminal  and  immoral  opinions,  as  the  liberty 
 of  conscience  can  never  extend  itself  to  the  free 
 and  legal  publication  of  those  frightful  doctrines 
 which  giwe  death  to  the  cojiscience.  (1) 
 
 What  then  !  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  it 
 would  be  a  crime,  and  indeed  a  great  one,  to 
 write  against  the  King;  and  it  will  not  be  a  crime 
 to  write  against  Him  by  whom  Kings  reign,  the 
 only  King  we  are  obliged  to  obey,  as  without 
 His  orders  we  would  not  be  obliged  to  obey  the 
 King.  We  could  not  write  against  Second  Ma- 
 festj,  and  we  may  write  against  the  First,  from 
 which  all  other  majesty  descends  I  It  would  be 
 a  crime  to  outrage,  in  public  writings,  the  per- 
 son of  the  Monarch,  and  it  will  be  permitted  to 
 outrage  the  adorable  person  of  Jesus  Christ! 
 It  is  forbidden  to  decry  the  JMinisters  of  the 
 Prince,  and  it  will  not  be  forbidden  to  rail  in- 
 decently against  the  Ministers  of  the  Living  God, 
 the  Ministers  of  Morality,  the  born  Guardians  of 
 the   Holy  Truths  which  preserve  Empires  I     It. 
 
 (1)  Prov.  VII,  16. 
 
(  205  ) 
 
 would  be  a  crime  to  attack  thfe  Charter,  and 
 abandon  it  to  the  mockery  of  politicians,  and  it 
 will  be  permitted  to  abandon  Religion  to  the 
 insults  of  the  impious  !  Religion,  the  Charter 
 bj  excellence,  foundation  of  all  Charters,  and 
 without  which  no  other  could  subsist ;  Religion, 
 whose  existence  is  guaranteed  and  recognised 
 by  the  State  itself,  at  the  same  time  that  it  pro- 
 tects and  consolidates  the  existence  of  the  State. 
 Was  there  ever  such  a  delirium?  How  long- 
 shall  those  scandals  continue  ?  How  long  shall 
 it  then  be  permitted  to  the  first  wretch  that  am- 
 bitions celebrity,  to  make  a  frightful  pastime  of 
 God  and  his  Religion  ?  Would  you  again  be- 
 come the  shame  of  Nations  and  the  terror  of  the 
 world?  Where  is  the  single  Nation,  from  the 
 commencement  of  time,  that  ever  separated  its 
 cause  from  that  of  the  Divinity ;  where  the 
 People,  that  did  not  feel  itself  attacked  and  dis- 
 honoured by  the  attacks  made  on  the  received 
 religion  ?  Yes,  Our  Dearly  Reloved  Brethren, 
 let  us  go  over  every  age,  and  summon  the  annals 
 of  the  most  ancient  people;  let  us  question  the 
 laws  of  the  most  famous  founders  of  Empires, 
 those  of  Nuraa,  Lycurgus,  and  Solon,  and  we 
 shall  find  that  the  attacks  on  the  Religion  of  the 
 State,  either  by  action  or  writing,  were  always 
 punished  as  the  greatest  crimes.     Such  in  par- 
 
(  206  ) 
 
 ticular  were  the  moral  and  policy  of  Rome  in 
 the  fair  days  of  her  glory,  and  her  glory  was 
 never  eclipsed  until  impiety  had  prevailed  ;  and 
 with  the  liberty  of  writing  every  thing,  arose  the 
 equal  liberty  of  every  enterprise  : — and  the  eter- 
 nal city  fell.  She  had  resisted  formidable  armies ; 
 she  could  not  resist  innovators  and  sophists.  The 
 deluge  of  books  prepared  the  deluge  of  barba- 
 rism :  the  Capitol  crumbled  to  ruins,  undermined 
 by  atheism,  grown  bold  in  its  impunity,  and  the 
 Mistress  of  Nations,  after  having  conquered  all 
 save  Herself,  disappeared  from  the  face  of  the 
 world. 
 
 And  even  now,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 let  them  show  us  a  single  nation  of  Europe,  sick 
 as  she  is  with  her  philosophism  and  her  vices, 
 where  obscene  and  blasphemous  writings  are 
 publicly  authorised!  Who  has  not  heard  of  this 
 Nation  of  the  North,  were  the  authors  and  printers 
 of  such  works  are  condemned  to  perpetual  ba- 
 nishment? So  closely  allied  is  this  crime  to  that 
 of  felony,  to  sedition  !  Who  knows  not  the 
 rigorous  prohibitions  on  this  subject  in  the  penal 
 codes  of  several  States  of  Germany  ?  Do  we  not 
 see  England,  whom  we  would  copy  in  every 
 thing,  in  harmony  on  this  point  with  the  universal 
 jurisprudence  :  and  has  not  Switzerland  herself 
 lately  proscribed  those  fatal  editions,  which  they 
 
{  20T  ) 
 
 dare  hold  up  amongst  us  to  triumphant  vice  and 
 affrighted  virtue  ?  In  vain  did  the  Apostles  of 
 Reason  appeal  to  the  interests  of  commerce  and 
 book-selling;  thej  were  answered,  as  we  shall 
 answer  to  the  partisans  of  the  Complete  Works, 
 that  the  Monarchical  and  Christian  Spirit  is  pre- 
 ferable to  the  mercantile  one;  that  a  nation  does 
 not  owe  its  safety  to  its  commerce,  or  its  armies, 
 but  to  its  religion  and  its  principles ;  that  we  have 
 enough  of  philosophical  speculations  to  corrupt 
 morality  and  shake  thrones,  without  spreading 
 our  speculations  of  commerce;  and  that  it  more 
 behoves  a  State  that  good  morals  should  flourish  at 
 the  expense  of  typography,  than  that  typography 
 should  flourish  at  the  expense  of  good  morals; 
 maxim  sovereignly  rational,  though  it  be  not 
 modern  !  It  is  to  this  policy  that  empires  owe 
 their  duration,  and  nations  their  tranquillity  and 
 their  happiness.  We  know  all  it  has  cost  us  to 
 have  forgotten  it,  by  tolerating  the  circulation  of 
 those  empoisoned  volumes,  which,  in  giving  life 
 to  commerce,  have  given  dealh  to  the  State. 
 
 Will  we  here,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 cite  an  authority,  in  itself  nideed  of  no  weight 
 with  honest  men,  but  most  imposing  in  the  eyes 
 of  philosophers,  that  of  their  patron,  the  Sophist 
 of  Geneva?  In  one  of  the  constitutions  he  ad- 
 dresses to  the  sovereign  people,  fromthesummit 
 
(  208  ) 
 
 of  his  laboratory,  he  places  Religion  at  the  head 
 of  the  State,  with  tlie  inj unction ,  as  he  says,  to 
 believe  it  under  pain  of  banishment,  and  to  con- 
 form  the  conduct  to  the  belief,  under  pain  of 
 death,  as  having  otherwise  committed  the  greatest 
 of  crimes  and  lied  before  the  law.  So  convinced 
 was  he,  that  no  State  could  be  founded  but  on 
 the  basis  of  Religion,  and  that  no  Religion  could 
 be  established,  if  the  impious  possessed  the  pri- 
 vilege of  speaking  or  writing  against  it.  It  was, 
 no  doubt,  a  strange  contradiction  on  his  part, 
 and  a  new  blunder  that  escaped  his  pen.  It 
 shall  always  be  a  difficult  matter  to  compre- 
 hend this  dull  and  singular  inconsistency,  that 
 the  same  man,  who  regarded  an  action,  or  even 
 a  doubt,  against  the  religion  to  which  he  himself 
 gave  birth,  as  the  greatest  of  crimes ,  should  spend 
 his  life  in  combattino-  the  relisfion  in  which  he 
 was  born;  that  he,  who  would  punish  with  death 
 the  writer  who  should  have  attacked  the  new 
 Religion,  should  pass  his  time  in  blaspheming 
 the  old  one  j  that  he,  who  so  far  extended  his 
 rigour  against  the  enemies  of  a  humaji  Religion, 
 he  himself  established  on  his  own  private  autho- 
 thority,  should  prostitute  his  talents  in  combat- 
 ting the  Divine  Religion  he  found  already  esta- 
 blished. The  more  evident  the  inconsistency  of 
 the  master,  the  more  conclusive  is  it  against  the 
 
(  209  ) 
 
 disciples,  and  the  greater  right  have  we  to  object 
 to  them.  Hear  it  then  you  Editors,  Printers, 
 and  Hawkers  of  his  Complete  Works:  let  him 
 be  banished  from  the  State  ;  and  you,  his  abet- 
 tors, panegyrists,  readers,  and  admirers,  listen  to 
 your  sentence  :  let  him  be  punished  with  death. 
 It  is  one  of  the  oracles  of  the  age  that  has  pro- 
 nounced this  judgment ;  and  you  do  not  see  that, 
 in  printing  and  publishing  him,  you  seal  with 
 your  own  hands  your  condemnation  and  your 
 shame  I 
 
 Ah !  no,  let  them  not  be  punished  with  death ! 
 This  may,  indeed,  be  the  wish  of  our  romantic 
 legislator;  it  cannot  be  that  of  a  Religion,  all 
 merciful,  which  seeks  not  to  destroy  the  body 
 but  save  the  soul ;  and  which,  according  to  the 
 Prophet,  does  not  demand  the  death  of  the 
 sinner,  but  rather  his  conversion  and  penance. 
 It  is  not  the  wish  of  the  Ministers  of  Christ  Jesus  : 
 they  can  never  punish  but  for  the  good  and  profit 
 of  the  guilty,  as  they  never  instruct  or  condemn 
 them  but  to  enlighten  the  mind,  and,  by  exciting 
 the  vigilance  of  the  State,  thereby  save  it  from 
 new  misfortunes. 
 
 It  was  under  the  impression  of  those  meek  and 
 charitable  feelings,  which  have  ever  animated 
 the  Church,  and  which  shall  never  leave  our 
 heart,    that  the  French   Clergy,   assembled  at 
 
 o 
 
(  210  ) 
 
 Paris,  in  tlie  jear  1757,  prayed  ihe  King,  to 
 abolish  the  penalty  of  death,  awarded  by  the 
 law  of  that  year,  against  the  authors  of  impious 
 writing's;  and  this  did  not  prevent  the  sophists 
 from  exclaiming,  in  their  usual  style,  against  in- 
 tolerance and  persecution.  But,  in  giving  this 
 example  of  moderation,  so  congenial  to  its  spirit, 
 and  after  having  obtained  the  abolition  of  the 
 capital  penally  against  impious  authors,  the 
 Clergy  reclaimed  with  greater  energy  against 
 the  printing  and  circulation  of  their  works.  It 
 but  the  more  loudly  demanded,  that,  as  it  did 
 not  wish  that  they  should  forfeit  their  heads  for 
 their  odious  provocations  and  criminal  doctrines, 
 they  should,  atleast,  be  prevented  from  assuming 
 such  a  hanglity  air,  from  challenging  Heaven 
 with  impunity,  from  insulting,  as  they  now  do, 
 the  Religion  of  the  State  and  public  morality  ; 
 and  that,  if  the  gibbet  were  not  to  do  justice  on 
 them,  at  least  the  cry  of  universal  indignation 
 and  the  scorn  of  the  human  race  should  do  so. 
 
 We  will  be  told,  perhaps,  that  impious  writers 
 no  longer  lie  before  the  law,  as  the  law  no  longer 
 considers  their  licentiousness  as  the  greatest  of 
 crimes.  We  answer  that,  even  in  this  supposi- 
 tion, which  it  is  most  afflicting  for  us  to  admit, 
 honest  meni,  interested  in  their  own  reputation 
 and  the  public  weal,  would  never  avail  them- 
 
(  211   ) 
 
 selves  of  the  silence  of  the  law,  because  it  is  not 
 always  permitted  to  do  what  the  law  does  not 
 punish,  and  because  it  is  not  the  law  that  makes 
 morality,  but  morality  that  makes  the  law.  We 
 answer  that,  if  impious  writers  do  no  longer  lie 
 before  the  law,  they  lie  at  least  before  God  and 
 the  world.  They  lie  to  the  public  morals  they 
 insult ;  to  the  State,  they  shake  in  its  foundations ; 
 to  the  King,  whose  majesty  they  revile  :  to  the 
 whole  body  of  society,  whose  decline  and  ruin 
 they  prepare.  We  answer,  that  if  blasphemous 
 writings  are  no  longer  proscribed  by  the  law, 
 they  are  ever  branded  and  reproved  by  the 
 Divine  law,  against  which  no  other  law  can  pre- 
 scribe; which  abrogates,  without  appeal,  every 
 law  opposed  to  it ;  which  alone  supplies  their  in- 
 sufficiency, speaks  as  a  sovereign  when  all  the 
 others  are  silent,  still  lives  on  when  all  others 
 perish,  and  no  more  accords  to  a  State,  the  right 
 of  destroying  itself  by  not  repressing  the  auda- 
 cious impiety  ever  ready  to  devour  it,  than  it  can 
 bestow  on  man  the  right  of  attacking  his  own 
 life,  or  that  of  his  fellow  men. 
 
 Let  them,  then,  cease  to  speak  to  us  of  their 
 natural  rights,  their  unqualified  liberty  of  pub- 
 lishing their  opinions  and  the  inviolable  property 
 of  their  thoughts.  Who  ever  called  in  question 
 their  exclusive   right  to   their   own    thoughts? 
 
(  ^-12  ) 
 
 Wlio  ever  dreams  of  molesling  lliem  in  this  hor- 
 rible possession,  and  this  shameful  dominion? 
 If  yet  they  wish  by  all  means  to  enjoy  the  full 
 and  entire  exercise  of  their  natural  rights,  let 
 them  betake  themselves  to  the  woods,  and  trans- 
 port their  presses  amongst  the  savages  ;  and  it  is, 
 indeed,  there  that  their  Master  sends  them  to 
 contemplate  his  favourite  man,  the  man  of  na- 
 ture ^  in  all  his  dignity.  There,  they  may  enjoy, 
 widiout  controul  or  censure,  their  natural  right 
 of  speaking  and  writing,  and  even  of  slaying 
 each  other:  the  right  of  trafficking  with  their 
 thoughts,  and  withal  of  robbing  each  oilier;  the 
 right  of  making  Complete  Editions,  and  even  of 
 living  without  laws  as  without  God. 
 
 But  as  long  as  they  remain  in  a  civilized  coun- 
 try, in  the  bosom  of  a,  nation  whicli  respects 
 itself,  of  a  government  which  understands  ils 
 true  interests,  and  watches  over  its  preservation, 
 they  nmst  be  compelled  to  be  silent  when  their 
 opinions  are  dangerous,  and  not  to  write  when 
 their  maxims  are  licentious ;  they  shall  not  be  more 
 free  to  publish  blasphemies  against  Religion  than 
 libels  against  the  King;  to  undermine  the  throne 
 by  murderous  doctrines,  than  to  overthrow  il  by 
 violent  means. 
 
 Butwhatsay  we,  OurDearly  Beloved  Brethren^ 
 do  we  not  hear  the  liOrd  say  to  us  here,  by  the 
 
(  213  ) 
 
 ?nouUi  of  liis  Prophet :  pass  into  tJie  islands  of 
 Cethiii,  and  see  what  is  there  doing  ;  send  unto 
 Cedar,  and  see  if  joii  shall  find  any  thing  like 
 unto  it.  (1)  See  if  those  barbarous  countries  will 
 permit  their  Gods  to  be  changed  or  outraged  ; 
 their  altars  to  be  overturned,  or  insulted ;  their 
 worship  to  be  attacked,  or  mocked  at ;  or  that 
 each  one  may  employ  all  the  resources  of  his 
 wit  to  render  their  idols  ridiculous,  or  contemp- 
 lible.  No  doubt,  they  deceive  themselves,  in 
 recognising  them  as  divinities  wortliy  of  their 
 homage ;  but  they  are  not  so  inconsistent  and 
 senseless,  as  to  suffer  the  altars  on  which  they 
 have  placed  them  to  be  degraded.  And  surely  they 
 are  less  absurd  and  contemptible  than  this  pre- 
 tended enlightened  race^  who  acknowledge  the 
 living  Godj  and  yet  hold  Him  in  less  fear  and 
 respect  than  the  idolater  his  gods  of  clay.  Gates 
 of  Heaven,  be  je  desolate  and  inconsolable ,  ex- 
 claims the  Prophet,  for  my  people  has  done  two 
 evil  things :  they  have  abandoned  me,  thefoun- 
 tain  of  living  water,  and  have  dug  for  themselves 
 brohen  cisterns  that  can  hold  no  water.  (2  This, 
 Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  is  what  we  have 
 done,  or  what  they  would  have  us  do  ;  such  the 
 infectious  sloughs,  such  the  sources  of  corrup- 
 tion they  slill  purpose  to  spread  amongst  us;  such 
 
 (1)  Jcreni.  XI,  10.  (2)  Jcrcm.  XI,  1-3. 
 
( '^1^' ) 
 
 ihe  broken  cisterns,  y^\nc\.\  can  contain  no  waler^ 
 or  can  retain  only  a  putrid  stagnant  water, 
 whence  exhales  a  deadly  odour;  such  the  vile 
 idols  and  lying  oracles  ihey  hold  up  to  our  ad- 
 miration, for  which  they  would  have  France 
 exchange  her  glory  ;  idols  still  more  abomina- 
 ble than  those  of  Baal  and  .Moloch,  as  we  can 
 please  them  only  by  the  sacrifice  of  modesty, 
 morals,  country,  and  Religion,  the  source  of 
 living  water,  which  can  contain  but  what  is  pure, 
 to  which  the  greatest  geniuses,  as  the  most 
 simple  souls,  equally  approach  to  quench  their 
 thirst;  source  of  the  health  of  empires,  (1)  to 
 which  France  chiefly  owes  her  fifteen  centuries 
 of  grandeur,  prosperity,  and  glory.  Populus 
 vera  meas  mutavit  gloriam  suani  in  idolum.  (2) 
 
 AVhat  could  be  alleged  to  justify  this  criminal 
 idolatry,  this  senseless  worship  ?  Where,  then, 
 is  their  title^  that  we  should  squander  on  them 
 so  much  incense  ?  Is  it  in  the  brilliancy  of  their 
 talents?  It  is  the  good  use  of  talents,  and  not 
 their  brilliancy,  that  renders  them  estimable.  Is 
 it  in  the  great  services  they  have  rendered  to  our 
 language  and  to  letters  ?  And  what  matters 
 purity  of  style,  purchased  at  the  expense  of 
 purity  of  morals,  purchased  only  by  vices  and  by 
 scandals?     Is  it  in  the  beauty  of  their  genius? 
 
 (1)  Wisd.  VI,  2C.  (2)  Jerem.  XI,  11. 
 
(  215  ) 
 
 The  inferiiai  spirits  too  are  full  of  genius.  Is  it 
 ill  the  glory  ihey  shed  on  the  human  mind? 
 I'hey  are  its  shame,  and  have  only  proved  its 
 weakness.  Is  it  in  the  splendour  of  their  virtues? 
 There  is  no  virtue  w^ithout  morality,  and  neither 
 of  those  two  men  had  any.  Is  it  in  the  honour 
 they  do  the  Nation  ?  Woe  to  the  Nation,  that 
 would  honour  itself  with  such  corrupters  !  Woe 
 to  the  people,  to  whom  such  models  sliould  be 
 proposed  I  Woe  to  France,  that  gave  them  birth, 
 and  woe  to  this  age,  which  publishes  them 
 anew! 
 
 Ah!  if,  instead  of  opening  once  more  amongst 
 us  those  poisoned  sources,  those  dry  cisterns, 
 spoken  of  by  the  Prophet,  those  fetid  reservoirs 
 of  so  much  moral  turpitude,  so  mucli  political 
 folly  hollowed  out  by  so  many  malignant  spirits, 
 we  had  employed  the  same  art  and  industry  to 
 publish  and  diffuse  the  magnificent  productions 
 of  those  geniuses,  truly  worthy  of  the  name,  all 
 those  treasures  of  eloquence  and  reason,  be- 
 queathed to  posterity  by  the  Great  Men  of  the 
 Great  Age,  what  gratitude  would  not  have  been 
 due  to  such  editors  from  every  friend  of  virtue  and 
 sound  literature;  what  vows  would  we  not  have 
 offered  up  for  the  success  of  so  laudable  an  en- 
 terprise? What  a  distance  between  these  im- 
 mortal writers  whom  Religion  avows,  with  whose 
 
(  216  ) 
 
 name  she  honours  herself,  and  those  heroes  of 
 impiety  boasted  of  by   philosophy  I     What  an 
 immense  superiority  over  the  latter  do  not  those 
 men  possess,  whose  pen  was  ever  chaste,  whose 
 taste  was  ever  pure,  whose  intentions  were  ever 
 upright,  and  whose  judgment  was  ever  sound  I 
 Here,  virtues  always  go  hand  in  Land  with  lights, 
 examples  with  lessons,  and  the  dignity  of  their 
 writings  corresponds  to  that  of  their  lives.  They 
 treat    not  the    most  serious   matters  with  the 
 lightest  frivolity,  like  Voltaire  ;    nor  do   they 
 combat  vice,  like  Rousseau,  with  arms  which 
 cast  the  blush  of  shame  on  virtue.     Here,  yea 
 will  not  find  a  single  unprofitable  instruction,  a 
 single  unreasonable  thought,  a  single  maxim  at 
 which  morality  may   blush,  a  single  principle 
 which  passion   can  abuse.      Here,  authority  is 
 enlightened  rather  than  contradicted.  Kings  re- 
 primanded with  courage,  but  not  ruled  with  inso- 
 lence ;  and  even  then,  when  they  thunder  against 
 the  impious,  the  horror  and  indignation  they  in- 
 spire never   offend    propriety    and   good  taste. 
 Here,  in  a  word,  every  thing  leads  to  conviction, 
 because  every  tiling  here  arises  from  it;  every 
 thing  enlightens  the  mind  at  the  same  time  that 
 it  elevates  the  soul ;  so  that  we  know  not  which 
 is  here  more  indebted  to  the  other,  the  Majesty 
 of  Religion,  or  the  Majesty  of  their  Genius.  Thus 
 
(  217  ) 
 
 olFer  themselves  to  our  admiration  all  those  suh- 
 liine  orators  of  the  sacred  chair,  all  those  profound 
 moralists  who  have  walked  in  the  footsteps  of  the 
 Deity,  and  even  all  those  poets  of  the  first  order, 
 whom  we  could  here  name  :  so  superior  have 
 thej  shown  themselves  by  their  talents,  so  irre- 
 proachable in  their  principles!  Such  are  the 
 authors  we  should  applaud,  imitate,  republish, 
 as  the  honour  of  our  country  and  the  ornament 
 of  the  human  mind.  Such  the  men,  of  whom  we 
 can  say,  with  as  much  pride  as  gratitude,  that 
 they  truly  belong  to  France,  and  are  the  glory 
 of  the  nation  :  laudemus  viros  gloriosos,  and  not 
 those  two  modern  wits,  who  have  not  ransomed, 
 by  a  single  service,  the  dreadful  abuse  of  their 
 talents;  men,  whose  names  our  country  cannot 
 remember  without  remembering  their  errors, 
 who  wished  that  their  wit  should  shine  only  at 
 the  expense  of  truth,  who  never  sought  fame  but 
 in  tumult,  nor  tumult  but  in  our  own  disasters. 
 Strange  followers  of  Empedocles,  to  arrive  at 
 immortality  and  glory,  they  have  not  plunged 
 themselves  but  us  into  the  abyss. 
 
 Their  passionate  admirers  will,  no  doubt,  tell 
 us  that  we  are  unjust  in  their  regard,  and  that 
 we  are  wanting  to  that  respect  which  is  due  to 
 them.  Would  to  God,  they  had  never  been 
 wanting  to  themselves,  and  to  every  thing  that  is 
 
(  218  ) 
 
 most  holy  and  sacred  upon  earth  !  What,  then ! 
 would  the  Philosophers  allow  them  to  dishonour 
 themselves  without  any  consequence  for  their 
 glory?  How  could  thej  require  of  us  to  treat 
 him  honourably,  w4io  was  excommunicated  by 
 his  own  fellow-citizens,  as  their  corrupter  ;  or 
 grant  an  hospitable  asylum  to  the  writings  of  a 
 man,  banished  from  his  country  as  its  shame, 
 and  from  his  church,  as  unworthy  of  being  its 
 member  ? 
 
 Besides,  is  this  deference  so  inviolable,  that 
 we  should  have  none  for  justice,  morality,  and 
 truth?  Is  respect,  then,  and  reserve  due  only  to 
 those  daring  men,  who  respected  nothing  ?  And 
 why  would  we  not  despise  two  men,  who  held 
 each  other  in  the  most  sovereign  contempt;  who 
 had  vowed  against  each  other  the  most  invete- 
 rate and  the  most  cordial  hatred?  Why  should 
 we  be  more  obliged  to  esteem  them  than  they 
 did  themselves,  to  be  more  generous  and  more 
 deferential  towards  them  than  they  were  to  each 
 other?  Why  would  not  we,  as  they  were  accus- 
 tomed to  do,  reproach  the  one  with  perverting 
 his  country,  and  the  other  with  perverting  the 
 human  race?  To  learn  to  despise  Voltaire,  we 
 have  only  to  listen  to  Rousseau  ;  and  to  learn  to 
 despise  Rousseau,  we  have  only  need  to  listen  to 
 Yollaire. 
 
(  219  ) 
 
 How  much  do  we  not  regret,  that  the  grave 
 decoruQi  of  our  Ministry  does  not  allow  us  lo 
 place  before  your  eyes  the  solemn  invectives, 
 and  reciprocal  insults  they  have  addressed  each 
 other.  No,  never  did  the  Philosopher  of  Ferney 
 say  so  much  evil  of  Priests,  never  did  he  vomit 
 forth  so  many  outrages  against  the  Popes,  or  so 
 many  gross  calumnies  against  the  Holy  Fathers, 
 as  he  has  done  against  the  Author  of  Eniile ; 
 never  did  he  rage  with  more  fury  against  the 
 Bible  than  against  the  Social  Contract.  Never 
 shall  we  be  able  to  speak  so  ill  of  modern  Phi- 
 losophers, as  the  Philosopher  of  Geneva  has 
 done  ;  never  shall  we  speak  so  ill  of  him  as  he 
 has  done  of  himself.  Yes,  we  would  blush  to 
 repeat  the  crimes  of  which  he  accuses  himself, 
 and  which  he  confesses  in  the  face  of  Heaven  and 
 Earth  ;  Providence  having  thus  permitted  it,  in 
 order  that  they  could  not  have  to  complain^  that 
 they  were  not  judged  by  their  Peere,  and  in  order 
 that,  by  a  sentence,  at  once  irrevocable  and 
 without  appeal,  they  should  themselves  justify 
 the  words  of  the  Holy  Scripture,  thatZ/z  boasting 
 tkemseh'es  to  be  wise,  thej  were  but  fools. 
 
 Let  us  then  cease  to  be  told,  that  we  aire  the 
 calumniators  of  those  great  men,  and  that  tliere 
 is  as  much  injustice  as  ingratitude  in  the  aversion 
 and  horror  we  inspire  for  them.     But  we  ask  it, 
 
(  220  ) 
 
 do  we  char<^e  ihem  with  blasphemies  they  never 
 itllerctl,  or  reproach  them  with  a  baseness  of 
 which  ihey  were  not  guilty  ?  Have  we  then  fal- 
 sified their  correspondence,  or  misconstrued  their 
 confidential  letters?  Have  we  supposed  this  au- 
 thentic repertory  of  tlieir  perversity,  of  which 
 Providence  has  betrayed  the  secret,  and  by  the 
 very  fact  visited  it  with  the  most  signal  justice  ? 
 Where,  then,  is  the  injustice  to  paint  them,  not 
 only  such  as  they  have  been,  but  such  as  they 
 wished  to  appear  ? 
 
 The  zealous  partisans  of  the  Complete  Works 
 do  not  certainly  believe  tliemselves,  when  they 
 lell  us  that  the  principles  of  their  Patrons  have 
 been  abused,  and  that  it  is  ignorance  that  has  ill 
 seized  their  meaning.  But  what  wonder  is  it 
 they  be  abused^  when  the  contrary  is  impossi- 
 ble ?  When  we  raise  the  passions,  must  not 
 the  passions  take  fire  ?  When  we  heat  the  mind, 
 must  not  the  head  go  astray?  When  we  break 
 <^lown  every  mound,  must  not  the  torrents  over- 
 flow ?  When  we  give  loose  reins  to  the  fiery 
 courser,  will  he  not  plunge  amain,  and  bear 
 down  every  obstacle  in  his  passage  ? 
 
 Who  could  have  promised  to  those  wise  men 
 by  excellence,  that  they  should  be  able  to  direct 
 at  will  the  storms  and  tempests,  after  having 
 unchained  them?     And  how  could  those  men> 
 
(  221   ) 
 
 who  wrote  only  witli  their  passions,  their  haired, 
 and  their  fanaticism,  flatter  themselves,  that  their 
 adepts  would  act  only  with  prudence,  discretion, 
 reserve,  and  wisdom? 
 
 What,  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 have  we  so  badly  comprehended  in  their  wri- 
 tings, and  how  could  ignorance  here  mistake  ? 
 Is  it  their  words,  or  their  intentions  we  have  not 
 seized?  Was  this  furious,  boundless,  and  until 
 then  unexampled  hatred  to  Christianity,  but  a 
 mere  sport,  in  which  the  heart  was  not  con- 
 cerned ?  Have  we  misinterpreted  this  shocking 
 word,  this  infamous  eternal  chorus,  which  con- 
 cluded all  his  letters,  and  which  our  pen  refuses 
 to  retrace  ?  Was  this  order,  signed  by  Satan, 
 to  crush  Religion  at  anj  price,  but  a  simple  coun- 
 sel ill-inlerpreted  either  in  its  spirit,  or  its  letter? 
 
 But  were  the  great  leaders  ignorant,  who  con- 
 ducted the  Revolutionary  Gar  over  a  sea  of  crimes 
 and  blood?  Have  they  not,  on  the  contrary, 
 given  proofs  of  sufficient  capacity?  Have  not 
 those  learned  and  able  men  given  the  honour  of 
 their  frightful  success  to  the  two  ring- leaders  of 
 philosophy?  Have  they  not  decreed  them  civic 
 crowns?  Have  they  not  sung  hymns  to  their 
 glorious  memory  amidst  their  songs  of  death? 
 Have  they  not  borne  them  in  triumph,  and  in- 
 stalled them,  in  the  \iiidst  of  a  phrensied  people. 
 
(  222  ) 
 
 amongst  the  Gods  or  Demons  of  the  Temple  of 
 Great  Men  :  (1)  Providence  thns  permitting  it,  in 
 order  that  llie  authors  of  the  Complete  Works 
 should  be  dishonoured  bj  their  own  commen- 
 tators; that  there  should  no  longer  exist  the 
 smallest  doubt  on  the  sense  of  their  principles  ; 
 that  nothing  should  be  wanting  to  the  shame  and 
 disgrace  of  their  memory,  and  that  they  should 
 be  no  less  branded  with  confusion  by  their 
 triumphs,  than  by  their  enterprises. 
 
 Remark,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  the 
 inconsistency  of  those  great  preachers  of  huma- 
 nity and  toleration.  At  the  same  time  that  they 
 claim  the  right  of  publishing  every  thing  they 
 please,  without  the  smallest  restraint  or  censure, 
 against  Religion  and  its  Ministers,  they  would 
 interdict  the  first  Ministers  of  Religion,  not  the 
 right  of  speech,  which  may  shortly  happen,  but 
 the  very  right  of  complaint.  It  is  at  this  moment 
 that  they  misconstrue  our  bewailings  into  insults, 
 our  protests  into  persecutions,  our  defence  into 
 
 (1)  The  Pantheon,  on  whose  front  we  ourselves  have 
 read  this  inscription  :  ^nx  Grands  Homines  la  Patrie 
 reconnaissante  :  with  nioltos,  such  as  Droits  de  I'homme, 
 etc.  etc.  It  has  been  lately  restored  to  its  primitive  des- 
 tination, and  Divine  Service  is  now  performed  in  it,  under 
 the  invocation  of  St.  Genevieve,'  Patroness  of  Paris. 
 
(  223  ) 
 
 attack^  our  afiliction  into  defamalion,  and  our 
 vigilance  into  fanaticism. 
 
 What  then  !  they  shall  have  the  ridit  of 
 spreading  the  poison,  and  we  shall  not  have  that 
 of  diffusing  the  antidote  ?  The  perverters  of  the 
 people  shall  then  become  its  Ijenefactors?  And 
 when  we  would  secure  our  flocks  from  the  mis- 
 fortunes with  which  they  are  menaced,  and  the 
 snares  which  are  set  for  them,  weshallbe  looked 
 upon  as  aggressors,  the  enemies  of  concord  and 
 the  disturbers  of  public  peace  ?  What  an  incre- 
 dible confusion  of  ideas  !  Heirs,  in  this  point,  of 
 the  spirit  of  their  Patrons,  who,  persecuting  and 
 attacking  with  violence  the  prejudices  of  the 
 world,  could  not  bear  a  single  error  of  their  own 
 to  be  censured  ;  who,  though  it  was  their  glory 
 to  pass  for  impious,  became  transported  vs^ilh 
 fury,  whenever  they  were  condemned  as  such. 
 As  intolerant,  as  they  were  intolerable  despots, 
 they  supported  their  opinions,  with  the  same 
 rage  as  the  enthusiasts  and  heresiarchs  at  all 
 limes  defended  their  dogmas.  They  only  wanted 
 armies  at  their  command  to  effectuate  in  their 
 age,  what  the  last  Reformers  had  done  in  theirs. 
 This  is  what  prompted  a  celebrated  King,  (1) 
 proclaimed  by  the  Philosophers  themselves  the 
 
 (1)  Frederick  II,  King  of  Prussia. 
 
(  224  ) 
 
 Solotnon  of  the  North,  to  exclaim  :  Great  God  ! 
 how  tJien  can  so  much  genius  he  allied  to  so  much 
 peivcrsity  P 
 
 This  is  not  all,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 iheir  audacity  still  increases,  and  their  pride^  as 
 the  Prophet  says  it,  mounts  unceasingly .  (1)  After 
 having  disputed  us  the  very  right  of  complaint, 
 they  still  pretend  to  wrest  from  us  that  of  con- 
 demning the  most  condemnable  writings.  Look- 
 ing upon  our  protests  as  provocations,  our  cen- 
 sures as  proscriptions,  our  anathemas  as  usurpa- 
 tions, they  reserve  to  the  magistrates  alone  the 
 privilege  of  judging  of  morality  j  as  if  we  were 
 not  the  born-guardians,  the  interpreters  and 
 sentinels  of  morality,  as  the  magistrates  are  its 
 protectors  and  avengers.  Aad  indeed  we  con- 
 ceive it  clearly,  that  those  men  who  imagine  that 
 God  cannot  reign  on  earth  but  as  they  will, 
 when  they  will,  and  as  long  as  they  will,  should 
 think  they  have  the  right  of  making  over  on  his 
 Ministers  a  portion  of  their  authority.  Why 
 would  they  not  ask  us  to  render  account  of  our 
 Pastoral  Instructions,  when  they  demand  of 
 God  himself  an  account  of  his  decrees,  and  even 
 of  his  secrets  ?  Thus  Episcopacy  would  be  a 
 phantom  without  power,  an  empty  name  with- 
 
 (1)  Ps.  LXXm,  23. 
 
(  225  ) 
 
 out  reality.  We  would  no  more  have  a  right  to 
 watch  over  the  deposit  of  your  faith,  than  the 
 security  of  your  salvation ;  we  could  no  longer 
 say  with  the  Saviour  of  the  world  :  who  hears 
 you,  hears  me  ;  he  who  hears  not  the  Church, 
 let  hint  be  looked  on  as  a  heathen  and  a  publican . 
 Jesus  Christ  himself,  of  whom  we  hold  our 
 mission,  could  not  then  call  the  Jews  rebels,  and 
 chiefly  those,  who  acted  the  Doctors  and  Philo- 
 sophers, a  race  of  vipers,  and  while-washed  se- 
 pulchres covered  over  with  a  varnish  of  fine 
 words,  but  within  full  of  worms  and  putrefac- 
 tion. We  could  then  no  longer,  in  our  Pastoral 
 Letters,  say  to  the  Philosophers  of  our  days, 
 what  an  Apostle,  in  his  Apostolic  Epistles,  said 
 to  the  Philosophers  of  his  time  :  trees  twice 
 dead  to  truth  and  virtue ;  clouds  without  water, 
 charged  with  winds  and  storms ;  wandering 
 stars,  which,  rolling  in  no  certain  orbit,  have 
 only  caused  us  to  go  astray  and  lose  ourselves 
 in  an  inextricable  labyrinth.  Thus  the  Bishops, 
 whose  predecessors  had  assisted  at  the  founda- 
 tion of  the  monarchy,  and  who  at  all  times  were 
 looked  upon  as  its  firmest  pillars  and  natural 
 counsellors,  should  now  look,  upon  themselves 
 as  strangers  to  its  preservation  and  its  glory  ;  and 
 those,  who  have  fallen  with  so  much  greatness, 
 in  the  defence  of  its  last  remnants,  should  now 
 
(  226  ) 
 
 have  lost  the  right  ol'  defending  it  against  the 
 new  attacks  with  which  it  is  menaced  by  new 
 conspirators.  Even  our  preachers  could  no 
 longer  thunder  against  vices  and  scandals  with- 
 out being  taxed  with  temerity;  and  one  of  our 
 greatest  Kings  would  not  have  known  the  rights 
 of  his  crown,  when  he  said  of  the  sacred  Orator, 
 who  was  after  announcing  to  him  the  boldest 
 truths:  he  has  done  his  duty,  let  us  do  ours.  (1) 
 We  shall  then  do  our  duty,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 
 (1)  This  remarkable  saying  is  aUributed  to  Lewis  XIV, 
 and  does  as  much  honour  to  this  illustrious  Monarch,  as 
 to  the  celebrated  Orator  in  whose  favour  it  was  used.  Some 
 of  the  Body-Guards,  who  were  present  at  the  Sermon,  in 
 which  Father  Bourdaloue  most  pointedly  signalized  certain 
 faults  of  their  Royal  Master,  wished  to  avenge,  on  the 
 spot,  what  they  imagined  his  insulted  honour.  Their 
 arms  were  already  pointed  at  the  Preacher's  breast,  when 
 his  Majesty,  touched  with  a  sense  of  his  own  duty,  and 
 summoning  up  those  great  sentiments  he  so  well  knew 
 how  to  put  forth  on  the  occasion,  exclaimed.  Stop,  my 
 guards,  the  Preacher  has  done  his  duty,  let  ns  do  onrs. 
 The  part  of  the  discourse,  which  offended  the  Royal 
 Guards,  was  a  commentary  on  the  words  of  Nathan  to 
 David,  T«  es  ille  vir,  and  it  was  worthy  of  Bourdaloue 
 and  Lewis  XIV,  to  have  imitated  a  Prophet  and  a  Great 
 King.  It  was  chiefly  this  instance  of  courageous  zeal  that 
 merited  for  the  first  of  modern  preachers  the  application 
 of  this  verse  of  the  118th  Psalm,  Loquebar  de  iestimoniis 
 tuis  in  conspectu  Regum,  et  non  confundchar. 
 
(  22T  ) 
 
 Drethren,  assured  as  we  are,  that  we  shall  not, 
 in  so  doing,  incur  the  displeasure  of  the  Heir  ol 
 Lewis  the  Great,  and  convinced  that,  in  protest- 
 ing against  an  enterprise  so  fatal  to  the  Slate  and 
 to  Religion,  we  no  less  conform  ourselves  to  his 
 intentions  than  we  serve  his  interests,  that  we  no 
 less  serve  the  Church  than  himself,  and  that,  by 
 our  silence  on  this  occasion,  we  would  fail  as 
 much  in  our  episcopal  as  in  our  civil  duties. 
 We  shall  do  our  duty,  in  order  to  pay  our  ho- 
 mage of  honour  to  the  memory  and  sentiments 
 of  the  Martyr-King,  who,  during  his  sad  cap- 
 tivity, felt  with  a  dolorous  conviction,  that  these 
 two  men  had  ruined  France,  (1)  and  he  might 
 have  added ,  prepared  my  scaffold.  We  shall 
 do  our  duty,  though  we  should  merit  the  ana- 
 themas of  the  impious,  by  pronouncing  with  the 
 Apostle,  anathema  to  all  who  love  not  Christ 
 Jesus,  (2)  and  still  more  so  to  all  those  who  blas- 
 pheme, or  who  publish  blasphemies  ',  anathema 
 to  those  all  who  would  announce  to  you  another 
 Gospel  than  that  you  have  received  ;  (3)  ana- 
 
 (1)  It  was  in  visiting  the  archives  of  the  order  of  Malta, 
 which  were  at  the  Temple,  (then  the  King's  Prison)  and 
 there  finding  the  works  of  Voltaire  and  Rousseau,  that 
 Lewis  XVI,  expressed  those  words.      Mems.  of  M.  Hue. 
 
 (2)  Gal.  I,  8,  9.  (3)  I.  Pot.  IV,  17. 
 
 P  * 
 
(  228  ) 
 
 thema  to  those  corrupters  of  nations,  who  sport 
 in  their  ruin  and  destruction,  who  no  less  shake 
 the  foundation  of  morals  than  of  empires,  and 
 who,  sensible  to  the  interests  of  public  reason 
 only,  think  that  it  is  a  matter  of  little  conse- 
 quence that  morals  should  perish,  and  States 
 should  crumble,  provided  the  press  be  free^  and 
 commerce  flourish  ;  an  anathema  to  those  pro- 
 pagators of  the  Complete  Works,  who  pretend 
 that  the  law  is  the  rule  of  all,  even  of  conscience, 
 and  that  nothing'  that  wounds  conscience  can 
 wound  honour  ;  and  who,  far  from  blushing  at 
 this  scandalous  publication,  openly  assert  that 
 there  is  here  no  public  scandal  save  the  censure 
 and  condemnation,  with  which  we  brand  it : 
 anathema  sit. 
 
 Such,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  is  the 
 degree  of  confusion  introduced  into  all  the  re- 
 ceived notions  and  ideas.  This  is  the  new  plan 
 of  attack,  the  new  persecution  the  impious  are 
 about  to  substitute  to  that  from  which  we  are 
 scarcely  yet  delivered.  This  the  science  of  op- 
 pression, of  which  speaks  the  sacred  writer,  and 
 to  which  every  day  adds  new  perfection  :  infer- 
 nal mixture  of  prudence  and  audacity,  of  craft 
 and  impudence  :  sapienler  opprimanms  eiim.  (1) 
 
 (1)  Exod.  1, 10. 
 
(  229  ) 
 
 And  the  impious  have  also  said  it  in  their  coun- 
 sels: let  us  oppress  Relig-ion  wilh  wisdom  and 
 with  art ;  to  open  persecution  let  us  substitute 
 a  more  calculated  and  studied  war,  whose  effects 
 shall  be  more  certain  as  its  means  shall  be  less 
 violent,  sapienter :  no  longer  daring  to  attack 
 her  with  open  force,  let  us  persecute  her  by 
 books.  We  have  not  been  able  to  conquer  her 
 by  making  martyrs,  let  us  make  deserters  by 
 licentious  writings,  and,  as  we  have  not  talent 
 enough  to  compose  new  works,  let  us  republish 
 the  old.  Let  us  make  use  of  the  name  of  Reli- 
 gion, the  better  to  overthrow  her;  let  us  sub- 
 stitute sophisms  to  blasphemies,  and  irony  to 
 outrage  ;  in  levelling  against  her  the  most  deadly 
 blows,  let  us  caress  her  with  feigned  praises, 
 hollow  concessions  and  lying  offers.  Let  us 
 propose  to  her  peace,  nay  even  alliance;  and  if 
 she  answers,  that  life  cannot  be  allied  with 
 death^  Jesus  Christ  with  Belial,  Heaven  with 
 Hell,  we  shall  then  publish  aloud,  and  in  every 
 corner,  that  it  is  she  that  declares  war,  and  that 
 every  instruction  of  her  Ministers  against  bad 
 books  is  a  true  manifesto  of  hostilities.  Let  us 
 shut  them  up,  as  much  as  we  can,  in  their  tem- 
 ples, as  we  cannot  chase  them  thence,  and,  if 
 we  cannot  bind  their  hands,  let  us  at  least  en- 
 chain their  zeal.     If  they  have  pulpits  in  their 
 
(  230  ) 
 
 Churches,  let  us  have  them  also  in  our  Lyceums  ; 
 and,  if  they  have  Preachers,  let  us  have  Profes- 
 sors; let  us  lake  care  not  to  make  them  die,  be 
 our  only  care  to  prevent  them  from  living. 
 When  they  shall  speak  to  us  of  the  spirit  of  the 
 Gospel,  let  us  speak  to  them  of  the  spirit  of  the 
 age,  which  cannot  go  backward,  and  to  which 
 all  mus'  yield. 
 
 When  they  shall  propose  to  us  the  principles 
 of  justice,  let  us  oppose  to  them  the  duties  of 
 charity,  which  should  bear  with  all,  even  with 
 derision  and  outrage.  Let  us  calumniate  their 
 intentions,  if  we  can  no  longer  tire  out  their 
 patience;  let  us  treat  them  as  incendiaries,  if 
 they  should  seek  to  extinguish  the  fires  we  are 
 enkindling.  Let  us  particularly  beware  of  put- 
 ting their  faith  once  more  to  the  test,  in  order 
 not  to  leave  them  even  the  merit  of  resistance. 
 So  prudent  be  all  our  measures  of  precaution,  as 
 to  leave  them  a  life  without  honour,  and  a  death 
 without  glory  :   sa-pienlev  opprimamus  eiuii. 
 
 It  is  almost  the  same  persecution  the  Church 
 had  to  sustain  in  the  sad  days  of  Arianism,  and 
 which  the  Great  Hilary,  of  Poitiers,  in  his  address 
 to  the  Emperor  Constantius,  has  so  eloquently 
 deplored.  Would  to  Heaven,  he  exclaimed, 
 that  we  were  still  under  the  reign  of  a  Nero,  or 
 a  Diocletian  I     Far  preferable  was  the  violent 
 
(  231   ) 
 
 persecution,  then  directed  against  the  Christian 
 name,  to  this  deaf  and  disguised  war  now  waged 
 against  us.  With  what  superior  advantages 
 should  we  not  have  coinbatted  in  the  defence 
 of  our  faith  !  Clothed  in  the  armour  of  Heaven, 
 we  should  then  have  feared  neither  the  racks, 
 nor  tortures,  nor  the  burning  braziers;  we  should 
 have  borne  ofF  glorious  palms  of  victory,  and 
 our  executioners  wouldj  at  least,  have  been  con- 
 founded by  the  courage  of  our  champions.  The 
 people  themselves,  animated  bj  our  example,  in 
 loudly  professing  the  faith  of  Christ  Jesus,  would 
 have  profited  of  the  advantages  of  an  open  per- 
 secution. But  now,  the  scaffolds  are  replaced 
 by  hidden  snares,  and  the  tortures  by  subter- 
 raneous ambushes.  AVe  have  no  longer  to  com- 
 bat a  tyrant,  who  threatens  our  lives,  but  a  per- 
 fidious enemy,  who  sometimes  flatters  us,  the 
 better  to  lull  us  into  slumber ;  an  able  perse- 
 cutor, so  much  the  more  dangerous,  as  he  turns 
 aside  his  blows,  the  better  to  deprive  us  of 
 the  occasions  of  precaution  and  the  means  of 
 defence.  Nunc  pugnamus  contra  persecutorem 
 fallentem.  contra  hostem  blandientem.  (1) 
 
 Thus,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  and  re- 
 mark it  well,  to  the  persecution  of  Religion  is 
 
 (1)  Lib.  Conf.  Const.  Iinper.  No.  1,2,  3. 
 
(  232  ) 
 
 now  going  lo  succeed  the  perseculion  of  mo- 
 rality. We  are  now  arrived  at  this  fatal  epochs 
 when  all  the  moral  principles  are  about  to  be 
 overthrown,  as  have  been  all  those  of  sound 
 policy  ;  when  vice  imagines  in  itself  alone  the 
 right  of  pardoning,  and  virtue  alone  has  need  of 
 an  apology ;  when  a  U  duties  are  placed  in  the 
 class  of  problems,  and  all  the  virtues  in  that  of 
 prejudices ;  when  men  are  put  in  the  place  of 
 principles,  justice  is  named  vengeance,  and  the 
 defence  of  truth  the  spirit  of  party;  when  indif- 
 ference calls  itself  impartiality,  and  the  contempt 
 of  every  thing  is  styled  toleration  ;  when  mode- 
 ration is  ever  recommended  with  regard  to  duties 
 and  the  holy  canons,  never  when  there  is  ques- 
 tion of  the  desires  and  passions ;  when  nothing 
 dishonours  but  mismanagement,  when  there  exist 
 no  other  crimes  than  those  which  may  prove 
 hurtful  to  their  authors.  This  is  the  confusion, 
 spoken  of  by  the  Prophet^,  which  places  no  dif- 
 ference between  sacred  and  profane,  just  and 
 unjust,  what  is  permitted  and  prohibited,  the 
 received  worship  and  the  foreign  one,  revealed 
 and  invented  religion.  Inter  prof anum  et  sanc- 
 tum noii  hahuerunt  distantiam.(\)  Unexampled 
 confusion,  which  renders  every  thing  a  matter 
 
 (1)  Ezech.  XXII,  26. 
 
(  233  ) 
 
 of  opinion;  atheism  an  opinion,  the  sanctity  of 
 oaths  an  opinion,  perjury  and  treason  an  opinion, 
 the  right  of  property  an  opinion_,  leg-ititnacy  an 
 opinion,  monarchy  an  opinion,  and  the  existence 
 of  the  State  an  opinion  :  so  that  opinion  is  the 
 reason  and  the  answer  of  every  thing,  and  thus 
 the  ground  on  which  we  tread,  as  moving  and 
 unstationary  as  opinion,  may  sink  under  our  feet 
 at  every  instant.  Sad  and  deplorable  fruit  of 
 those  philosophical  books,  in  which  doubt  is 
 taken  for  instruction  and  incredulity  for  learning. 
 By  dint  of  attacking  every  prejudice,  they  finish 
 by  shaking  every  certainty  ;  moral  phenomenon^, 
 still  the  more  alarming  as  it  alarms  no  one,  and 
 which  seems  to  us  to  portend  the  total  eclipse  of 
 the  sun  of  faith  and  truth;  new  abyss,  now  yawn- 
 ing under  our  footsteps,  far  more  frightful  than 
 that  of  our  overthrow,  than  the  pressure  of  the 
 stranger,  than  the  disorder  of  the  seasons  and  the 
 overflowing  of  the  torrents,  and  from  which 
 neither  commerce,  nor  arts,  libraries,  nor  the 
 learned,  nor  yet  all  the  luxuriant  richness  of  the 
 Complete  and  Posthumous  Editions,  shall  ever 
 save  us. 
 
 Ah  !  no  doubt,  we  should  not  despair  of  the 
 safety  of  our  country,  as  long  as  we  shall  possess 
 our  King  given  us  by  God,  the  legitimate  race, 
 and  those  August  Princes,  models  of  every  virtue. 
 
(  234  ) 
 
 God  forbid,  we  should  liere  seek  to  alarm  you 
 by  exaggerated  terrors,  and  the  image  of  dan- 
 gers, more  terrible  than  they  are  in  reality.  It 
 is  still,  however,  true,  that  false  confidence  is 
 the  ruin  of  empires,  as  it  is  of  souls,  and  that,  if 
 the  miracles  God  has  wrought  in  our  favour, 
 supply  us  with  new  motives  of  courage,  we  have, 
 nevertheless,  to  tremble  at  the  chastisements 
 prepared  for  those  who  abuse  such  graces.  It  is 
 still  our  duty  to  sound  the  trumpet,  (1 )  and  to 
 say  :  ivoe  to  us  if  we  observe  a  guilty  silence!  (2) 
 and,  indeed,  do  not  our  alarms  become  more 
 grounded,  in  proportion  as  we  see  the  means  of 
 amendment  and  instruction  every  where  dimi- 
 nishing, while  those  of  dissolution  and  licentious- 
 ness every  where  acquire  new  strength  ;  when 
 we  behold  a  large  portion  of  the  kingdom  de- 
 prived of  Pastors,  condemned  to  this  deplorable 
 dearth  of  the  Divine  word,  true  nourishment  of 
 souls,  without  which  we  would  shortly  become 
 a  barbarous  generation,  without  faith  as  without 
 morals,  and  as  estranged  from  our  God  as  from 
 our  King. 
 
 But  what  would  happen.  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  if  this  ill-fated  generation  were  told, 
 that    it  is  wrong  to   disturb  it   in  its  lethargic 
 
 (1)  Isai.  LXVIII,  2.  (2)  Isai,  VI,  5. 
 
(  235  ) 
 
 slumber ;  that  its  true  friends  are  those  who 
 flatter,  and  not  those  who  enlighten  it;  that  we 
 should  despair  of  nothing,  as  we  can  print  with 
 full  liberty  those  works,  which  blaspheme  alike 
 the  faith  of  our  fathers  and  the  reason  of  Si^es. 
 Ah  !  it  is  then,  indeed,  that  the  evil  would  be 
 without  remedy,  the  abyss  without  bottom,  and 
 the  oracle  of  the  Apostle  should  receive  its  ac- 
 complishment :  They  will  speak  of  peace,  and 
 ruin  shall  arrive ;  of  security,  and,  at  the  moment 
 when  they  will  least  think  on  it,  the  thunder 
 shall  awaken  them  :  JSt  cum  dixerint  paoc  et 
 securitas,  tunc  superveniet  eis  repentinus  inte- 
 ritus.  (1) 
 
 Let  them  then  speak  to  us  of  the  progress 
 of  lights,  of  our  literary  conquests  and  the  flou- 
 rishing and  prosperous  state  of  our  civilization. 
 And  what  are  the  lights  of  a  corrupted  people, 
 but  new  means  of  its  greater  perversity  and  cor- 
 ruption? The  progress  of  lights  !  (2)  When 
 the  French  genius  is  bastardized,  when  letters 
 
 (1)  1  Thes.  V,  3. 
 
 (2)  The  cant  word  and  rallying  signal  of  the  Philosophers 
 and  Revolutionists  of  the  age.  They  sometimes  translate 
 it  in  England  by  the  march  of  mind,  the  force  of  things, 
 and  other  favourite  idioms  now  received  in  the  radical 
 schools. 
 
(  236  ) 
 
 are  as  sad  and  degenerate  as  our  morals ;  when 
 every  thing  amongst  us  attests  the  sterility  of 
 talent  and  the  poverty  of  the  arts ;  when  the 
 Exterminating  Angel  has  already  sealed  up 
 amongst  us  the  book  of  science,  in  punishment 
 of  the  aljuse  we  made  of  it  —  the  progress  of 
 lights  !  while  we  are  as  yet  in  the  first  rudiments 
 of  state  government;  when,  after  a  quarter  of  a 
 century,  we  are  slill  debating,  in  our  public 
 assemblies,  on  the  meaning  of  liberty  of  opinion 
 and  liberty  of  person  ;  when  we  are  scarcely 
 initiated  into  the  art  of  a  good  education,  a  good 
 legislation,  a  good  constitution  :  mysterious 
 words  w^e  the  less  understand,  as  we  return  on 
 them  more  frequently  !  What  then!  would  we 
 confound  some  discoveries,  brought  round  by 
 time  or  by  chance,  with  the  true  social  lights, 
 which  depend  neither  on  chance  nor  on  time  ? 
 Would  we  take  our  restless  curiosity,  for  the 
 extent  of  our  genius,  or  the  fatal  art  of  question- 
 ing and  corrupting  every  thing  by  words,  for 
 the  love  of  truth  ?  What  great  and  useful  truth 
 has  ever  come  out  of  our  alembics,  and  all  our 
 manufactories  of  morals  and  policy  ?  Does  so- 
 ciety find  itself  the  better  of  having  been  new 
 molten  in  our  laboratories?  Are  our  wars  more 
 just,  because  more  scientific?  and  what  have 
 our  arts  availed,  when  applied  to  our  military 
 
(  237  ) 
 
 tactics,  but  to  render  them  more  sanguinary  and 
 more  wasteful  ? 
 
 For  having  added  some  degree  of  perfec- 
 tion to  certain  instruments  of  optics,  do  we 
 now  see  more  clearly  into  the  science  of  our 
 duties  ?  Have  the  superior  art  and  symmetry 
 of  our  parks  and  gardens  augmented  the  good 
 order  and  happiness  of  our  families?  For  having 
 repaired  our  high-roads  with  greater  care,  are 
 we  now  more  surely  in  the  path  of  virtue  ?  Have 
 all  our  systems  and  calculations  saved  us  from  a 
 single  error,  a  single  folly,  a  single  disaster? 
 Have  they  destroyed  a  single  house  of  gambling, 
 of  prostitution,  or  of  scandal  ?  Since  we  have 
 begun  to  meddle  ourselves  with  the  government 
 of  insects,  have  we  made  any  progress  in  the 
 art  of  governing  ourselves?  Has  the  embellish- 
 ment of  our  public  buildings  ameliorated  the 
 sad  dwellings,  or  the  nourishment  C*"  the  poorj 
 or  the  reform  of  our  prisons  rendered  the  cap- 
 tives less  vicious  or  less  numerous  ?  and,  because 
 we  have  multiplied  our  museums  and  lyceums, 
 are  the  youth  of  the  country  less  licentious,  less 
 impatient  of  every  yoke,  less  ardent  to  eman- 
 cipate themselves  at  once  from  the  authority  of 
 their  parents  and  that  of  their  God?  Is  it  not 
 then  evident  that,  by  becoming  greater  rea- 
 
( '238  ) 
 
 soners,  we  only  prove  this  word  of  Holy  Writ : 
 that  the   number  of  fools  has  no  limits  F  (1) 
 
 The  progress  of  lights  I  When  the  torch  of  phi- 
 hisophy  has  hitherto  been  but  a  firebrand,  which 
 after  having  enflamed  our  own  houses,  threatens 
 to  set  all  Europe   in  a  blaze;  when,  until  this 
 day,  we  have  only  well  known  how  to  demolish 
 without  end,  to  heap  destruction  on  destruction, 
 and  still  applaud  ourselves,  flaunting  with  com- 
 placency over  those  vast  ruins  ;  like  unto  chil- 
 dren, who  are  never  more  rejoiced  than  when 
 they  dash  down  the  frail  edifices  they  had  raised 
 for  their  amusement.      77^e  progress  of  lights  ! 
 Ah  I  let  us  rather  speak  of  the  progress  of  this 
 unexampled  depravity,   which  disconcerts   our 
 tribunals  and   appals   our  magistrates.     Let  us 
 speak  of  the  progress  of  suicides,  poisonings,  of 
 parricides  and   other  horrors,  unknown  in   the 
 history  of  crimes,  with  which  our  public  papers 
 are  sullied  at  each  page,  and  now  become  so 
 familiar  to  us,  that  they  make  no  more  impres- 
 sion on  us  than  those  ephemeral  tales,  which 
 amaze  us  to-day,  and  are  forgotten  on  the  mor- 
 row.     Ah!   perish  all   those  lights,  if  we  must 
 purchase  them   at  such  a    price,  and   acquire 
 them  at  the  expense  of  what  we  have  been  and 
 
 (l)Eccl.  I,  15. 
 
(  239  ) 
 
 what  we  should  be.  No,  it  is  neither  science 
 nor  the  progress  of  industry,  but  morality  and 
 virtue,  which  can  ensure  the  destinies  of  a  na- 
 tion. It  is  good  sense,  useful  in  all^  like  piety  : 
 it  is  honour,  it  is  probity,  elevation  of  character, 
 respect  for  ancestors  ;  it  is,  in  a  word,  the  science 
 of  duty  and  the  love  of  religion  that  aggrandize 
 a  state :  all  the  rest  is  nothing  but  a  chimera, 
 vanity  and  affliction  of  spirit,  the  concupiscence 
 of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life.  (1 )  These  are 
 the  lights  we  should  cultivate  and  cherish,  and 
 of  which  a  people  can  justly  boast;  these  are 
 the  lights  of  those  strong  and  robust  nations, 
 which  defy  at  once  the  strength  of  armies  and 
 the  force  of  time  ;  and  not  those  fugitive  phos- 
 phoric fires  of  philosophy,  which  only  gleam  an 
 instant,  and  leave  after  them  a  deeper  darkness ; 
 and  not  this  luxury  o^  material  ^erieclion,  which 
 can  only  impoverish  the  intellect,  instead  of  ex- 
 ercising its  powers  j  and  not  those  futile  con- 
 quests of  wit,  which  have  no  more  served  us 
 than  our  conquests  of  war;  and  not  those  pre- 
 tended victories  over  prejudices,  of  which  we 
 ,  should  no  more  boast  than  of  our  victories  over 
 the  stranger  ;  and  not  those  theories,  so  profound 
 and  so  hollow,  which  have  only  made  us  wander 
 
 (1)  Eccl.  I,  lA. 
 
(  240  ) 
 
 from  error  to  error,  from  folly  to  folly,   from 
 disgrace  to  disgrace. 
 
 Beware  then,  more  and  more,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  of  this  great  word,  so  often 
 told  over  and  repeated,  that  it  provokes  ridicule 
 and  disgust,  the  progress  of  lights,  which  can  no 
 longer  impose  even  on  the  most  simple  ;  and 
 never  forget,  that  the  more  an  age  speaks  of  its 
 lights,  the  less  it  possesses  of  them.  Remove 
 still  further  from  this  mass  of  regenerators,  new- 
 founders,  undertakers,  who  find  nothing  good 
 but  what  is  new,  and  would  reform  all,  even 
 thought  itself.  Escape  from  this  new  deluge  of 
 books,  which  will  shortly  finish  by  the  total 
 submersion  of  the  human  mind  :  beware  particu- 
 larly of  those  fatal  editions  they  are  now  adding 
 to  the  treasure  of  your  lights  or  your  misfor- 
 lunes.  What  need  you  more,  to  render  them 
 for  ever  contemptible  in  your  eyes,  than  to  think 
 on  the  unclean  hands,  from  which  they  came 
 forth,  and  the  frightful  calamities  they  have  cost 
 you? 
 
 Friends  of  Reason  and  good  Sense,  beware  of 
 those  Complete  Works,  whose  author  informs 
 us,  that  they  were  composed  during  ten  years  of 
 a  delirious  fever,  and  who  was  the  less  astonished 
 that  others  did  not  understand  them,  as  he  ac- 
 knowledged he  did  not  understand  them  himself. 
 
(  2^1    ) 
 
 J3eware  of  those  works,  wherein  the  iiseful  is 
 ever  sacrificed  to  the  agreeable,  greatness  to 
 frivolity  ;  where  sophisms  and  subtlety  can  only 
 falsify  your  judgment,  and  the  good  and  reason- 
 able things,  if  any  they  contain,  might  be  for- 
 gotten, without  any  consequence  for  your  hap- 
 piness, your  virtue  and  your  true  instruction. 
 
 Friends  of  your  country,  beware  of  the  Com- 
 plete  TVorhs  of  this  bad  Frenchman,  who  ever 
 praised  our  rivals,  at  the  expense  of  our  glory  ; 
 of  the  TForks  of  this  wild  demagogue,  citizen 
 without  country,  and  who  would  only  teach  you 
 to  despise  your  own  :  both  ecpially  calculated  to 
 extinguish  in  our  bosoms  the  sentiments  of  love 
 and  fidelity  we  owe  our  masters  j  the  one,  by 
 calumniating  every  social  institution ;  the  other, 
 by  reviling  the  manners  and  institutions  of 
 France. 
 
 Friends  of  good  morals,  beware  of  the  Com- 
 plete Works  of  this  filthy  poet,  who  has  made 
 the  master-piece  of  his  talent  of  the  master-piece 
 of  ribaldry  ;  so  natural  to  him  was  the  love  of 
 vice  !  Beware  of  the  Works  of  this  romancer  of 
 systematic  perversity,  who  confesses,  that  he 
 never  wrote  but  when  impassioned;  who  pre- 
 tends to  correct  the  passions  by  the  most  dan- 
 gerous and  the  most  violent  of  all,  and  bad  morals 
 
 Q 
 
( m ) 
 
 by  a  book,  which,  as  he  again  acknowledges;, 
 can  only  corrupt  them.  Inconceivable  avowal, 
 the  eternal  shame  of  a  man  who,  thereby  com- 
 promising the  honour  of  families  and  the  inno- 
 cence of  young  hearts,  does  not  believe  himself 
 the  less  free  from  every  account  towards  God, 
 and  from  all  blame  on  the  part  of  mankind,  pro- 
 vided we  admire  his  style,  and  vaunt  the  hardi- 
 hood with  which  he  mocks  the  human  race  ! 
 
 Friends  of  sound  literature  and  good  studies, 
 beware  of  those  Complete  TVorks,  which,  even 
 under  the  head  of  talents,  will  never  be  classic 
 models,  and  whose  authors,  by  dint  of  attempting 
 wit  every  where,  have  carried  their  genius  no 
 Avherej  of  those  Works,  where  you  will  find  no 
 fine  eloquence,  because  there  is  none  without 
 reason  and  truth  ;  nor  true  taste,  because  there 
 is  none  without  propriety  and  moderation  ;  nor 
 true  graces,  because  nature  has  not  wished  they 
 should  flourish  in  vicious  hearts,  and  because 
 she  has  established  such  harmony  and  affinity 
 between  beauty  and  decorum,  between  elevation 
 of  genius  and  that  of  soul,  that  one  never  goes 
 without  the  other.  Ah  I  never  forget  that  amuse- 
 ment is  not  instruction  ;  that  to  learn  to  despise 
 all,  is  to  learn  nothing;  that  to  doubt  of  all,  is 
 to  know  nothing  ;  and  that  there  is  but  one  way 
 
(  243  ) 
 
 to  the  beautiful,  as  there  is  but  one  to  the  true, 
 that  is,  Religion,  eternal  source  of  all  truth  and 
 beauty. 
 
 Friends  of  Religion,  beware  of  those  Complete 
 Works,  where  Religion  is  reviled,  calumniated, 
 disfigured  j  where  her  greatest  services  are  re- 
 presented as  scourges  ;  where  is  qualified  as 
 barbarous,  the  Religion  which  drew  us  from 
 barbarity,  and  can  alone  prevent  us  from  re- 
 lapsing therein;  where  every  quotation  against 
 her  is  a  lie,  where  her  mysteries  are  treated  as 
 visions,  her  miracles  as  impostures,  her  Martyrs 
 as  fanatics,  her  Doctors  as  unlettered,  her  Apo- 
 logists as  persecutors,  and  her  persecutors,  the 
 most  cruel  even,  and  the  most  branded  in  his- 
 tory, as  humane  men,  worthy  not  only  of  our 
 admiration,  but  even  of  our  gratitude  ,•  where, 
 in  a  word,  to  crown  their  impious  treachery,  we 
 cannot  say  what  the  most  injures  Religion,  whe- 
 ther their  praises  or  their  outrages,  or  the  false 
 concessions  they  sometimes  make  her,  or  the 
 violent  blows  they  cease  not  to  level  against 
 her. 
 
 Fathers  and  Mothers,  beware  of  those  Com- 
 plete Works,  where  it  is  laid  down  as  a  prin- 
 ciple, that  children  have  no  need  of  a  catechism, 
 that  we  must  take  care  not  to  speak  to  them  of 
 Religion,  or  leach  ihem  to  love  God,  before  they 
 
 Q* 
 
(  -244  ) 
 
 themselves  shall  think  proper  to  recognise  Him 
 by  their  own  means  :  as  if  the  sentiment  of  the 
 Divinity  could  be  too  soon  inspired,  and  that 
 God  were  unseasonable  in  the  first  storms  of 
 life.  Senseless  and  barbarous  education,  which 
 takes  all  human  nature  at  contraries  ;  monstrous 
 system,  and  worthy  of  him,  whom  no  father 
 would  have  wished  to  have  for  his  son,  and  no 
 son  for  his  father  !  and  can  we  then  be  sur- 
 prised, that  this  strange  education  never  formed 
 but  one  scholar,  and  that  this  scholar  was  the 
 despair  of  his  family  and  the  dishonour  of  his 
 master? 
 
 And  you,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Co-operators, 
 you  will  second  us  with  all  your  power  in  com- 
 battingthis  new  league,  which  is  forming  against 
 the  Lord  and  against  Christ,  by  firmly  fixing  in 
 the  hearts  of  your  flocks  those  important  truths. 
 These  are  the  lessons  you  should  never  cease  to 
 inculcate  in  those  days  of  delirium  and  dark- 
 ness, when  every  thing  tends  to  surprise  your 
 vigilance,  or  fatigue  your  patience.  The  greater 
 activity  impiety  shall  employ  to  diffuse  those 
 TVorks,  with  proportioned  ardour  should  you 
 multiply  your  instructions,  and  watch  over  those 
 houses  of  education  they  endeavour  to  empoison. 
 You  will  principally  recall  to  mind^  that  this 
 barbarous  impiety,   after  having  attempted  to 
 
(  245  ) 
 
 corrupt  our  schools,  still  endeavours  to  pervert 
 our  very  hamlets,  and  that,  at  this  very  moment, 
 it  announces  without  fear  or  without  shame,  an 
 edition  entitled:  The  Voltaire  of  the  Cottages. 
 Unheard  of  scandal,  complement  of  all  others, 
 ag-ainst  which  you  could  not  stand  up  with  too 
 much  force,  nor  secure  with  too  much  care  the 
 flocks  confided  to  your  solicitude.  The  Voltaire 
 of  the  Cottages  !  Great  God  !  what  road  are  we 
 taking',  and  what  name  shall  we  give  to  this  age? 
 What  relation  can  there  exist  between  so  many 
 frivolous  tales,  or  impious  romances,  and  those 
 sad  repairs  of  labour  andindigence  ?  With  what 
 virtues,  what  consolations,  what  motives  of  re- 
 signation and  patience,  can  they  inspire  those 
 wretches,  who  water  our  furrows  with  their 
 sweat  and  their  tears?  With  what  new  and 
 ardent  zeal  should  you  not  signalize  this  new 
 wolf,  that  seeks  to   enter  your  sheepfolds  and 
 
 carry  desolation  and  death into  our 
 
 Cottages  P 
 
 How  many  things,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, would  we  not  still  have  to  say  to  you, 
 what  sad  reflexions  still  to  make,  if  we  here 
 followed  the  impulse  of  our  zeal,  and  abandoned 
 ourselves  to  all  the  sentiments  of  affliction  and 
 bitterness,  with  which  our  heart  is  affected.  But 
 we  know,  with  the  wise  man,  that  there  is  a  lime 
 
(  246  ) 
 
 for  speaking,  and  a  time  for  silence  i  (1)  we  know, 
 with  St.  Paul,  that  every  thing  that  is  good  is  not 
 expedient ;  (2)  and  that,  as  there  is  a  prudence 
 in  evil,  of  which  the  children  of  the  world  make 
 but  too  much  use,  so  there  is  a  prudence  in  good, 
 of  which  the  Gospel  makes  us  a  law.  (3)  We 
 shall  then  be  prudent  as  the  serpent^  (A)  as  Jesus 
 Christ  himself  commands  it;  we  shall  be  so  for 
 your  good,  and  even  for  the  triumph  of  truth, 
 which  it  is  not  always  seasonable,  which  it  would 
 be  perhaps  dangerous  to  state  in  all  its  bearings. 
 A  stronger  and  too  vivid  light  might  wound  your 
 eyes,  as  yet  too  feeble  to  bear  and  support  it  at 
 present:  nonpotestisportare  mbdo.  But  we  shall 
 state  it,  when  the  day s  of  error  shall  he  shortened j 
 when  the  charm,  which  now  fascinates  you, 
 shall  have  been  dissipated;  when  the  mind  shall 
 be  more  calm,  and  the  passions  less  irritated, 
 and  the  earth,  on  which  shall  fall  the  grain, 
 better  fitted  to  receive  it.  Then  shall  we  say  to 
 you,  witliout  reserve,  what  you  can  hear  with 
 advantage  :  Scies  ant  em  postea.  It  only  remains 
 for  us  now  to  weep  and  pray,  to  await  with  re- 
 signation the  moment  of  Divine  Providence,  and 
 cover  ourselves  with  tlie  mantle  of  a  wise  dis- 
 
 (1)  Eccl.  I,  17.  (2)  I.  Cor.  VI,  2. 
 
 (a)  Luke  XVI,  8.  (A)  Matlh.  X,  16. 
 
(  24T  ) 
 
 crcliou;,  until  llie  Jays  of  blindness  and  lolly 
 shall  have  passed,  and  the  torrent  of  iniquity  shall 
 have  flown  away  :  donee  transeat  iniquitas.  (1) 
 
 We  think  we  should  have  J)etrajed  the  most 
 sacred  duty  of  our  ministry,  by  passing  over  in 
 silence  those  deplorable  editions  of  unexampled 
 boldness  and  impunity  ;  hence,  we  think  we 
 should  protest,  in  concert  with  our  venerable 
 colleagues,  the  Bishops,  against  the  greatest  in- 
 sult Religion  ever  received  in  the  Christian  King- 
 dom. We  protest  against  them  in  the  name  of 
 public  morals  and  of  the  monarchy,  in  the  name 
 of  every  true  Frenchman,  of  every  true  friend  of 
 the  King  and  of  his  august  race,  who  have  no 
 greater  or  more  irreconcilable  enemies  than 
 those  of  Religion.  We  renew  all  the  censures 
 of  the  Clergy  of  France,  assembled  in  \  782  and 
 1785,  together  with  those  of  the  two  Archbishops 
 of  Paris,  our  illustrious  metropolitans,  who  de- 
 clared those  same  Works  impious,  blasphemous, 
 seditious,  and  sacrilegious.  We  forbid,  as  much 
 as  in  us  lies,  and  under  the  penalties  of  the  canon 
 law,  to  print  in  our  Diocess,  to  hawk  about,  or 
 favour  the  publication  of  said  works.  We  re- 
 serve to  our  Vicars-General  the  absolution  of  a 
 crime,  against  which  cannot  be  too  severely  ap- 
 
 (1)  Ps.  LVI,  2 
 
(  248  ) 
 
 plied  the  spiritual  penalties  ;  and  if,  alter  having 
 thus  discharged  our  conscience  and  our  Pastoral 
 duty,  those  fatal  editions  should  still  sully  the 
 French  Press,  and  sadden  the  looks  of  men  of 
 \irlue  ;  if,  in  punishment  of  this  scandal.  Heaven 
 should  again  become  wrothful,  and  threaten  us 
 anew  with  the  weight  of  its  vengeance ;  if  the 
 stabilitv  of  the  throne  of  St.  Lewis  should  once 
 more  be  compromised,  and  another  deluge  of 
 woes  poured  out  on  our  country ;  Pontiffs  of  the 
 Lord  !  We  are  absolved  in  the  eyes  of  posterity 
 and  of  the  Church,  and  to  Us  shall  not  be  impu- 
 luated  the  misfortunes  of  the  Nation. 
 
 Given  at  Troyes,  in  our  Episcopal  Palace, 
 under  the  seal  of  our  arms,  and  the  counter- 
 sign of  our  Secretary. 
 
 -f  Stephen  Anthoivy,  Bishop  of  Troyes, 
 Elected  Archbishop  of  Vienna. 
 
 By  Order, 
 Constant  Migneaux^  Canon  Secretary. 
 
(  2/,0  ) 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTION 
 
 On  the  occasion  of  Lent  and  his  Seminary. 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Boulogne,  etc. 
 
 In  oui:'  Lenten  Instructions  of  last  year,  we 
 endeavoured  to  forewarn  you.  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  against  the  spirit  of  the  age. 
 We  laid  before  you  the  illusions  of  its  promises, 
 the  perversity  of  its  designs,  and  the  artifices  of 
 its  language.  We  pointed  out  to  you  this  im- 
 pious age,  which  blasphemes  whatever  it  knows 
 not,  (1 )  stands  up  against  every  thing  that  is 
 God, (2)  imagines  itself  above  all,  and  as  the 
 monarch  of  all  the  children  of  pride,  (3)  holds 
 itself  the  paragon  of  all  ages,  because  it  re- 
 sembles no  other.     These   Instructions,    solely 
 
 (1)  Jiule,  X.  (2)  I.  Thcs.  II,  A. 
 
 (3)  Job,  XLI,   27. 
 
(  250  )      - 
 
 (JiclalcJ  hy  our  zeal  in  the  discharge  ot  our 
 Pastoral  duly,  have  been,  we  doubt  not,  most 
 warmlv  received  by  every  true  Christian  and  all 
 men  of  worth,  zealous  at  once  of  their  own  sal- 
 vation and  the  happiness  of  the  country.  But 
 this  age,  which,  like  those  spoken  of  by  Jere- 
 inias,  wishes  not  to  receive  instruction,  {\),  lias 
 been  offended  by  ours.  In  vain  we  tell  it  that 
 we  possess  the  sacred  right  of  pointing  out  the 
 attempts  of  impiety,  not  only  in  the  name  of 
 God  whose  Ministers  we  are,  but  also  in  the 
 name  of  society,  of  which  he  is  the  great  conser- 
 vator: in  vain  we  represent  to  it,  that  the  first 
 of  our  duties  is  to  secure  asjainst  the  ravenin"- 
 wolves  the  flocks  committed  to  our  care  :  the 
 age  answers  us,  that  if  it  be  our  duty  to  save 
 souls  and  to  direct  consciences,  it  belongs  to  it 
 to  enlighten  minds  ;  and  that  if  before  God  we 
 be  responsible  for  your  salvation,  it  must  answer 
 to  posterity  for  our  civilization  and  our  glory. 
 Thus  it  is,  because  impiety  raises  higher  than 
 ever  her  hideous  front,  that  the  age  orders  Reli- 
 gion, the  daughter  of  Heaven,  to  lower  her 
 august  head.  Tliis  same  age,  which  complains 
 daily  that  no  one  dares  utter  the  truth  to  the 
 Kings  of  the  earth,  becomes  itself  indignant  to 
 
 (1)  Jer.  V,  3. 
 
(  25!   ) 
 
 hear  it  from  our  lips,  and  imagines  lliat  we  in- 
 vade the  profane  territory  of  policy,  because 
 we  demonstrate  that  it  usurps  and  ravages  the 
 sacred  dominions  of  Religion.  Thus,  at  a  mo- 
 ment when  morals  perish  in  such  a  frightful  pro- 
 gression, and  their  decadence  disconcerts  all  the 
 wisdom  of  the  law;  when  the  most  impious 
 writings  circulate  with  as  much  boldness  as  im- 
 punity ;  it  is  at  this  moment  they  wish  to  shackle 
 Pastoral  Instruction,  reduce  into  servitude  Chris- 
 tian eloquence,  or,  to  speak  with  the  Apostle, 
 retain  it  in  injustice.  {\)  Thus  vi^ould  they,  by 
 little  and  little,  establish  the  slavery  of  the  word 
 of  God  ;  of  this  magnificent  word,  which  hreahs 
 the  cedars,  (2)  shakes  the  deserts,  and  re-echoes 
 to  the  very  bottom  of  the  abyss  •  this  fruitful 
 word,  which  founded  the  Heavens,  (3)  saved 
 the  world,  and  is  yet  to  save  it.  But  no  ;  this 
 word,  says  the  Holy  Ghost,  canot  be  enchain- 
 ed. (4)  We  have  received  orders  io  preach  it  on 
 the  house-tops;  (5)  and  as  it  is  subjected  to  none, 
 all  must  submit  to  it.  Woe  then  to  us,  if  we 
 should  conceal  it  under  the  bushel,  (6)  and  if,  like 
 the  unfaithful  servant,  we  should  bury  the  talent 
 
 (1)  Rom.  I,   18.  (2)  Ps.  XXVIII,   5. 
 
 (3)  Prov.  Ill,  19.  (A)  II.  Tim.  II,  19. 
 
 (5)  MaUh.  X,  27.  (6)  Matlh.  V,  15. 
 
(  25^  ) 
 
 int rusted  to  us,  (1)  and  of  which  we  are  to  ren- 
 der an  account.  We  are  preaching  it  these  forty 
 years  without  fear  or  subterfuge,  and  we  shall 
 still  preach  it.  We  have  preached  it  to  Kings 
 and  to  tyrants,  we  shall  now  preach  it  to  the 
 age.  What  care  we  for  its  smiles?  Is  it  not 
 written,  that  if  we  wish  to  please  men,  we  shall 
 not  he  faithful  servants  of  Jesus  Christ  ?(2) 
 
 Yes,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  we  have 
 said  it,  and  we  still  repeat  it :  The  greatest  error 
 of  this  age  is  its  licentious  taste  for  novelty, 
 which  disdains  every  thing  that  has  been,  in 
 order  to  rave  only  what  may  be.  It  is  this  im- 
 pious war  declared  against  a  holy  and  hoary 
 antiquity,  by  a  swarm  of  false  sages  and  non- 
 commissioned reformers,  who,  as  impatient  in 
 their  desires,  as  they  are  limited  in  their  views, 
 and  as  ardent  to  attempt  all,  as  incapable  of 
 foreseeing  any  thing,  are  not  less  zealous  to  des- 
 troy, than  true  sages  to  preserve.  This  is  the 
 folly  of  those  thinkers  of  a  day,  who,  having  no 
 zeal  but  for  what  never  existed,  no  love  but  for 
 institutions  not  yet  existing,  shamelessly  insult 
 tlie  majesty  of  ages,  and  not  satisfied  to  extin- 
 guish amongst  us  our  hereditary  traditions  and 
 our  ancient  recollections,  the  better  to  fashion 
 
 (1)  Matlh.  XXV,  25.  (2)  Gal.  I,  10. 
 
(  253  ) 
 
 us  to  their  new  errors,  would  still  wish  to  tear 
 Religion  from  the  very  pages  of  our  history,  the 
 better  to  tear  it  from  our  very  hearts.  True 
 apostates  to  country,  they  thereby  delight  in 
 effacing  whatever  causes  the  pride  of  the  French 
 name,  and  the  glory  of  that  of  Christian.  Guilty 
 offspring,  they  despise  their  fathers,  and  teach  us 
 thereby  to  despise  ourselves,  and  lose  this  senti- 
 ment of  national  dignity  a  people  holds  for  its 
 very  agedness,  and  which  it  never  renounces 
 without  punishing  itself.  Imprudent  men,  they 
 thus  abandon  the  lessons  of  experience,  and  the 
 brilliant  beacon  of  our  fathers'  faith,  to  float 
 adventurously,  without  guide  or  compass,  on  the 
 stormy  sea  of  human  opinions,  without  knowing 
 what  port  to  make,  and  thus  yield  to  the  mercy 
 of  a  thousand  tempests  the  new  nation  that  was 
 to  spring  from  their  hands.  Blind,  they  see  not 
 that  God  alone  can  make  a  new  people,  by  send- 
 ing Jorlli  his  creating  spirit,  {\)  and  replacing  it 
 on  the  eternal  basis  of  truth,  justice  and  sanc- 
 tity. It  is  in  this  sense  that  he  says  he  will  create 
 new  heavens  and  a  new  earth ;  and  St.  Paul  re- 
 commends us  to  shake  off  the  old  man,  in  order 
 to  put  on  the  new,  (2)  which  no  doubt  is  not  the 
 man  of  novelties,  but  that  one  that  is  born  again 
 
 (1)  Ps.  cm,  30.  (2)  Col.  HI,  9. 
 
(  ^54  ) 
 
 lo  llie  life  of  grace,  and  renews  his  joiitJi  like 
 that  of  the  eagle,  (1)  bj  remowiting  to  the 
 source  ;  (2)  by  bathing  his  soul  once  more  in  the 
 salutary  waters  of  antiquity,  and  thence  drawing 
 new  strength  lo  return  to  virtue,  to  recommence 
 a  second  life,  and  recall  the  beaiitj  of  ancient 
 days.  (3) 
 
 But  this  endless  and  lawless  innovation  of  our 
 age,  does  not  reform,  but  demolish;  not  rectify, 
 but  build  on  nothing ;  not  regenerate  a  people, 
 but  corrupt  it ;  not  call  it  to  youth,  but  to  old 
 age,  hastens  its  dissolution  and  precipitates  its 
 decline,  takes  away,  with  the  tranquillity  of  the 
 present,  the  hope  of  a  future,  and  thus  makes  a 
 problem  of  its  existence  and  a  sport  of  its 
 destinies. 
 
 It  was  no  doubt  to  palliate  the  shame  and  dan- 
 gers of  a  spirit  so  restless  and  so  fond  of  change, 
 that  this  age  has  decorated  it  with  the  pompous 
 title  of  the  progress  of  lights.  Empty  pomp, 
 with  which  it  seeks  to  cloak  its  haughty  poverty. 
 In  vain  this  long  time  we  represent  to  it  that  a 
 nation  is  always  enlightened  when  it  is  virtuous ; 
 lliatit  can  owe  its  safety,  not  to  arts  and  sciences, 
 l)ul  lo  morals  and  to  virtue ;  lo  the  love  of  private 
 
 (1)  Ps.  CII,  5.  (2)  Dcut.  XXXII,  7. 
 
 (3)  Isa.  LI,  1. 
 
(  255  ) 
 
 (Julies,  without  which  there  is  no  public  mo- 
 ralitj  ;  to  its  faith  in  the  divine  principle  whence 
 flows  all  power,  and  which,  by  consecrating 
 authority,  consolidates  the  established  order ; 
 and  that  in  fine  nothing  is  wanting  to  a  people 
 faithful  to  its  God  and  to  its  Kins:.  The  aae 
 haughtily  replies,  that  a  nation  cannot  be  saved 
 but  by  the  enlightened  sentiment  of  its  own 
 strength;  that  no  power  but  its  own  is  sacred; 
 that  its  duties  repose  on  the  studied  conscious- 
 ness of  its  rights;  that  its  fidelity  is  never  so  in- 
 violable as  when  it  is  discussed ;  and  that  nothing 
 is  more  fatal  to  a  state  than  an  uncalculated  sub- 
 mission and  an  unreasoned  love  for  God  and  for 
 the  King. 
 
 In  vain  we  ask  it,  by  what  miracle  and  by 
 what  inspiration  it  finds  itself  more  capable  and 
 more  enlightened  than  all  the  other  ages,  and 
 wlience  it  holds  this  emancipation  of  which  it 
 makes  so  great  a  display,  and  of  which  until 
 now  it  has  made  such  happy  use  I  It  still  replies, 
 that  its  mission  comes  from  its  reason,  its  reason 
 from  its  lights,  its  lights  from  the  necessity  and 
 the  very  force  of  things ;  that  hence  it  must  ad- 
 vance, and  we  along  with  it;  and  that  we  can  no 
 more  impede  its  progress  than  hinder  the  sea 
 from  murmuring,  the  thunder  from  rolling,  or 
 the  sun  from  shedding  his  light. 
 
(  25G  ) 
 
 Was  there  ever,  Onr  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, a  more  deplorable  phrensy?  And  who 
 can  accuse  us  here  of  misstating  its  sentiments, 
 or  of  perverting  its  language?  This  then  is  the 
 real  malady  of  the  age  :  the  fanaticism  of  false 
 science  and  of  false  lights,  still  more  violent  and 
 more  incurable  than  that  of  ignorance  and  false 
 zeal.  Tliis  unprecedented  position  of  affairs, 
 wherein  reason  has  no  longer  any  faith  than  in 
 itself;  when  every  writer  imagines  himself  a 
 doctor,  every  doctor  a  legislator,  every  legislator 
 an  oracle ;  when  each  constitutes  himself  his 
 own  judge  ',  when  in  short  we  can  say  that  every 
 thing  on  earth  is  sovereign  except  the  Sovereign 
 of  Heaven.  PFoe  tojou,  says  Jesus  Christ  to  the 
 false  doctors  of  the  synagogue,  who  imagine  that 
 you  alone  carrj  the  keys  of  science,  in  which  you 
 have  never  entered,  nor  made  others  enter.  (1 ) 
 This  is  the  anathema  which  equally  merit  all  those 
 scribes  and  political  pharisees,  who  attribute  to 
 themselves  alone  the  dominion  of  reason,  con- 
 centrate in  themselves  the  conscience  of  every 
 people,  the  faith  of  every  age,  and  look  upon 
 themselves  as  the  mind  of  the  human  race.  In- 
 finitely more  dangerous  than  those  false  doctors 
 condemned  by  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  they 
 
 (1)  Luke  XI,  52. 
 
(  257  ) 
 
 think  they  possess  the  key  of  every  law  and  of 
 all  the  mysteries  of  social  order.  They  boast 
 they  can  open  all  the  treasures  of  light,  and  they 
 have  no  other  key  than  that  of  the  abyss  :  vce  ! 
 legis  peritis,  quia  tiilistis  clavem  scientios. 
 
 It  is  now,  indeed,  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 we  can  say  with  the  Scripture,  that  the  hour  of 
 the  power  of  darkness  is  arrived,  (1 )  and  that  now, 
 more  than  ever,  we  must  beware  of  false  pro- 
 phets. (2)  No,  never  was  the  art  of  embarrass- 
 ing reason  by  a  thousand  windings  more  learn- 
 ed;  never  cold  theories  more  ably  united  with 
 the  violent  passions,  to  support  and  justify  each 
 Other;  never  was  hell  more  fruitful  in  dark 
 machinations  to  deceive  ignorance  and  credulity. 
 An  universal  snare,  or  to  speak  with  the  prophet, 
 an  extensive  net  is  spread  over  mount  Thabor  ; 
 Et  rete  expansum  super  Thabor.  (5)  Who 
 then  can  escape  the  snare  of  a  false  philanthropy, 
 which  is  no  more  humanity  than  their  philoso- 
 phy is  wisdom.  It  calls  itself  the  love  of  man, 
 and  it  is  not  the  love  of  Godj  the  true  life  of  the 
 soul ;  it  goes  beyond  the  pole  to  seek  for  bre- 
 thren, and  it  scarcely  knows  the  neighbour  God 
 
 (1)  Luke,  XXII,  53.  (2)  Mark  VII,  16. 
 
 (3)  Osee  V,  1. 
 
(  258  ) 
 
 has  confided  to  each  of  us.  (1 )  By  din  I  of  loving 
 the  human  race,  it  has  finished  by  loving  none. 
 
 Snare  of  false  charity,  which  the  age  would 
 wish  to  confound  with  true  Christian  charity, 
 whose  first  duty  is  to  support  and  pardon  all,  and 
 hail  the  true  repentance  which  covers  transgres- 
 sions ;  charity,  to  which  the  age  so  often  appeals 
 in  order  to  make  use  of  charity  against  charity 
 itself,  and  to  render  the  queen  of  Virtues  and 
 the  image  of  Divine  Goodness,  the  abettor  of  its 
 vices,  the  shield  of  its  iniquities,  and  the  accom- 
 plice of  its  destructive  and  ruinous  plans. 
 
 Snare  of  false  toleration,  false,  because  unli- 
 mited, and  consequently  without  wisdom.  Far 
 from  reconciling  the  interests  of  humanity  with 
 those  of  religion,  it  betrays  the  latter  under  pre- 
 tence of  defending  the  former.  Its  whole  art 
 consists  in  insinuating  that  all  should  be  tolerat- 
 ed, in  order  that  nothing  should  be  believed. 
 Unmasking  itself  daily  by  its  own  excesses,  it 
 proves  to  us  evidently,  that  it  only  requires  cre- 
 dit for  every  false  religion,  but  the  better  to  op- 
 press the  only  true  one. 
 
 Snare  in  this  false  moderation,  which  is  not 
 the  restraint  of  the  desires,  nor  of  the  passions, 
 
 (1)  Eccl.  XVII,  12. 
 
(  259  ) 
 
 nor  of  worldly  pleasures ;  not    this  sobriety  of 
 wisdom,  (1 )  which  knows  no  exag-geration  nor 
 extreme,  even  in  virtue  j  but  a  deplorable  com- 
 promise between  good  and  evil,  vice  and  virtue ; 
 as  if  there  were  a  medium  between  them,  and  as 
 if  the  fairest  feature  of  virtue  were  not  an  effi- 
 cient hatred  of  vice.    Shameful  transaction,  and 
 unworthy  a  Christian,  whose  spirit  is  strength, 
 and  who  knows  but  one  way,  the  straight  way 
 which  conducts  to  life.  (2)     Fatal  neutrality,  in 
 which  moderation  is  nothing  else  than  lukewarm- 
 ness,  impartiality  indifference  ,•  the  love  of  peace, 
 that  of  self  repose;    where  forsooth  I  there  is  no 
 spirit  of  party,  because  no  one  embraces  that  of 
 virtue  ;    and  thus   do  we  prepare  ourselves  for 
 this  terrible  anathema  of  the  Holy  Ghost  against 
 those  men  whom  he  calls  neither  liot  nor  cold, 
 and  whom  God,  for  that  very  reason,  rejects  from 
 his  bosom  and  vomits  forth  from  his  mouth;  (3) 
 men  not  less  criminal  than  those  spoken  of  by 
 the  Prophet,    who  change  from   right  to  left, 
 from  God  to  Baal,  according  as  their  ambition 
 or  their  interest  urges  them,  usquequb  claudice- 
 tis  in  duas partes.  (4) 
 
 Snare    in    this  lying  perfectibility,  so   much 
 
 (1)  Rom.  XIII,  3.  (2)  Matlh.  VII,  lA. 
 
 (3)  Apoc.  Ill,  16.  (A)  III.  Kings,  XVIII,  21. 
 
(  260  ) 
 
 vaunted  by  this  age,  and  which  it  calls  unlimited, 
 because  it  knows  not  where  to  stop  and  is  a 
 mjslerj  to  itself;  which  it  calls  undefined,  be- 
 cause it  is  undefinable,  and  as  far  removed  from 
 Christian  perfection,  as  pride  from  humility,  as 
 self-idolatry  from  heroic  abnegation,  the  love 
 of  pleasure  from  holy  temperance ;  as  the 
 grosserinclinations,  and,  if  we  may  speak  so,  this 
 religion  of  the  senses,  which  will  shortly  re- 
 place all  others,  differ  from  the  perfection  of 
 the  soul  which  only  seeks  and  tastes  the  things 
 above :  {\)  fantastic  perfectibility,  which,  far 
 from  advancing  from  virtue  to  virtue,  (2)  far 
 from  rendering  us  half  because  God  is  holy,  (3) 
 and  perfect  as  our  heavenly  Father  is  perfect,  (4) 
 only  proceeds  from  dream  to  dream,  from  ab- 
 straction to  abstraction,  and  has  until  now  per- 
 fected but  our  social  corruption. 
 
 Snare  in  this  religious  morality,  which  now- 
 a-days  they  would  substitute  to  Religion,  and 
 which  is  nothing  else  but  the  absence  of  all  re- 
 ligion. Illusory  moral,  that  would  make  Chris- 
 tians without  Christianity,  and  give  us  a  Gospel 
 without  worship,  or  worship  without  a  Gospel; 
 a  faith  without  a  creed,    or  a  creed  without 
 
 (1)  Colos.  Ill,  1.  (2)  Ps.  LXXXIII,  8. 
 
 (3)  I.  Pet.  I,  16.  (A)  Matth.  V,  48. 
 
(  261  ) 
 
 belief;  and  which,  by  the  contempt  of  every 
 dogma,  and  the  arbitrary  latitude  it  leaves  for 
 the  objects  of  faith,  is  at  bottom  but  an  indirect 
 profession  of  impiety,  a  disguised  atheism  and 
 the  imposing  mask  of  this  fatal  indifference, 
 which  blushes  at  its  own  name  and  dares  not 
 openly  avow  itself. 
 
 Snare  in  this  novel  system  of  education, 
 whence  they  have  exiled  the  noble  inheritance 
 of  those  principles  and  tenets  which  informed 
 our  fathers ;  snare  in  this  reasoning  education, 
 entirely  directed  according  to  the  elements  of  the 
 world,  (1)  as  St.  Paul  has  it,  and  not  according 
 to  Jesus  Christ  J  wherein  the  first  of  our  acquire- 
 ments, Religion,  is  subordinate  to  all  others,  and 
 appears  rather  a  matter  of  form  than  a  duty, 
 rather  meet  than  necessary, 
 
 A  sadly  calculating  education,  wherein  all  the 
 lines  they  trace,  and  all  the  circles  they  describe 
 could  not  preserve  a  child  from  a  single  fault, 
 nor  snatch  him  from  a  single  vice  ;  whose  doc- 
 trines, as  emphatic  as  they  are  dry,  instead  of 
 curbing  the  rising  passions,  only  excite  them  to 
 fermentation,  and,  far  from  prolonging  the  too 
 short  period  of  innocence,  first  object  of  every 
 
 (1)  Col.  11,  8. 
 
(  262  ) 
 
 good  education,  only  hasten  ihal  of  licentious- 
 ness and  corruption. 
 
 Snare  in  those  anti-Christian  ideas,  which  the 
 age  decorates  with  another  name;  ideas,  con- 
 ceived but  yesterday  in  the  slime  of  the  revolu- 
 tion, and  which  should  the  more  awaken  our 
 precaution,  as  they  are  more  obnoxious  by  their 
 novelty,  more  vague  in  their  acceptation,  and  so 
 much  the  more  foreign  to  our  ancient  morals,  as 
 we  can  no  more  discover  them  in  our  Cate- 
 chisms than  in  our  vocabularies.  Real  enigmas, 
 which  each  interprets  according  to  his  caprice, 
 and  the  spirit  of  which  consists  in  confounding 
 all,  in  order  to  justify  all,  and  in  finding  for  itself, 
 in  the  general  absolution  it  deals  out,  a  permis- 
 sion and  license  for  every  crime. 
 
 This  is  the  worst  state  to  which  a  nation  can 
 degrade  itself,  a  true  moral  putrefaction,  or  to 
 speak  with  Isaias,  a  secret  and  universal  languor^ 
 wherein  the  frame  of  society  only  exhibits  the 
 sad  spectacle  of  a  corpse,  where  soul  is  without 
 a  spring,  characters  without  vigour,  moral  with- 
 out dignity,  belief  without  conviction  ;  where 
 there  is  no  activity  but  for  vice,  and  no  energy 
 but  for  the  passions  :  omne  caput  languidufn .  (1 ) 
 
 (1)  Isai.  I,  15. 
 
(  263  ) ' 
 
 What  still  shall  we  saj  ?  It  is  the  gangrene  that 
 succeeds  the  fever;  the  lethargy  that  follows  our 
 convulsions ;  the  agony,  forerunner  of  death ; 
 it  is  this  spirit  of  insensibilitj  and  of  slumber,  so 
 much  announced  by  the  same  Prophet,  which 
 God  sends  forth  on  the  nations  rebellious  to  his 
 laws,  when  it  enters  into  his  views  to  punish  and 
 destroy  them. 
 
 Such,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  are  the 
 various  dangers  with  which  we  are  surrounded, 
 such  the  numerous  snares  the  enemj  has  laid  on 
 our  path-way,  and  which  should  the  more  alarm 
 our  vigilance,  as  at  every  instant  they  may  com- 
 promise our  safety.     Ah  !  amidst  these  oblique 
 ways,  those  treacherous  documents,  those  clouds 
 whose  double  tongue  veers  to  every  wind,  (1 )  in 
 this  anarchy  of  mind  and  this  transposition  of 
 every  fixture,  this  confusion  of  good  and  evil, 
 and  this  sad  mixture  of  wily  virtues  and  learned 
 vices,  this  labyrinth  without  issue,  where  man, 
 where  the  Christian  cannot  find  his  way :  let  us 
 preserve  the  sacred  deposit,  (2)  Let  us  rally  more 
 than   ever  around  this  divine  wisdom'  which  is 
 before  all  time  and  all  ages.  (3) 
 
 Let  us  hold  firmly  to  the  anchor  of  faith.     Let 
 
 (1)  Eccl.  V,  XI.  (2)  I.  Tiin.  VI,  20. 
 
 (o)  Eccl.  11. 
 
(  26/i  ) 
 
 us  quit  this  moving  ground  that  may  at  every 
 moment  yield  under  our  feet,  and  there  unshaken 
 in  our  hopes  (1)  and  strengthened  by  the  au- 
 thority of  all  ages  re-united  with  that  of  God, 
 let  this  age  perish  if  it  will  without  us,  a.ndfall 
 into  the  pit  it  has  hollowed  out  for  itself.  (2) 
 
 It  is  for  you,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Co-operators, 
 to  redouble  in  zeal,  and  to  second  us  with  all 
 your  power  at  a  time  when  to  maltiplied  errors 
 and  scandals  you  should  oppose  an  augmented 
 supply  of  zeal  and  vigilance.  This  general  in- 
 struction we  address  you  will  make  the  subject 
 of  your  particular  instructions.  You  will  place 
 it  within  the  reach  of  the  simple ;  not  forgetting, 
 as  St.  Paul  says,  that  we  are  debtors  to  the  igno- 
 rant, as  well  as  to  the  learned,  to  the  wise  as 
 well  as  to  the  senseless,  to  the  weak  as  well  as 
 to  those  who  call  themselves  strong-minds.  It 
 is  no  doubt  for  you  that  we  can  say,  that  a  great 
 net  is  spread  over  mount  Thabor,  and  that  you, 
 still  more  than  others,  have  to  defend  yourselves 
 against  those  insidious  men,  who  would,  as  they 
 say  it,  make  you  harmonize  with  the  times,  that 
 is  to  say  with  chaos.  It  is  chiefly  against  you, 
 that  is  let  loose  the  strong-armed,  (3)  that  is  to 
 say,  the  genius  of  evil. 
 
 (1)  I.   Cor.  XV,  18.  (2)  Ps.  VII,  16. 
 
 (3)  Luke  XI,  21. 
 
(  265  ) 
 
 You  should  arm  yourselves  against  him  with 
 all  the  genius  of  good.  For  the  arms  of  our 
 warfare,  sajs  the  Apostle,  are  not  carnal  onesy 
 hut  the  power  of  God  himself.  The  power 
 of  jour  prayers  to  disarm  the  vengeance  of  God, 
 and  engage  him  in  favour  of  those  even  who 
 would  wish  to  ruin  you.  The  power  of  your 
 examples,  by  becoming  the  living  rule  of  the 
 Jlocky  and  exhibiting  yourselves  as  irrepre- 
 hensihle  in  your  discourses  as  in  your  actions. 
 The  power  of  your  good  works,  by  assisting  the 
 poor,  though  poor  yourselves,  by  consoling  the 
 unfortunate,  reconciling  enemies,  protecting  the 
 widow  and  the  orphan,  and  showing  yourselves 
 as  the  eje  of  the  blind  and  the  foot  of  the  lame^  (1 ) 
 \i^  forming  true  adorers  for  God  and  true  sub- 
 jects for  the  state.  In  short,  the  power  of  your 
 instructions,  by  arming  yourselves  withthe  sword 
 of  the  Spirit,  (2)  which  is  the  word  of  God,  and 
 making  use  of  it  with  as  much  meekness  as 
 strength.  You  will  exhort  in  all  patience ; 
 hw\.jou  will  insist  in  season  and  out  of  season. 
 And  what  means,  in  the  mind  of  St.  Paul,  insist- 
 ing out  of  season,  if  it  be  not  to  rise  up  against 
 the  spirit  of  the  age,  that  is,  against  the  passions 
 
 (1)  I.  Pet.  V,  3.  (2)  Ephes.  VI,  17. 
 
(  266  ) 
 
 which  agitate  it,  the  vices  which  torment  and 
 the  dehrium  which  overrules  it?  You  should 
 exhibit  as  much  zeal  to  enlighten  it,  as  it  shows 
 itself  obstinate  in  resisting  jou  and  headlong  in 
 its  own  ruin.  It  is  thus,  by  a  happy  mixture  of 
 an  inexhaustible  charity  and  an  unshaken  firm- 
 ness, you  will  teach  the  age,  that  if  wisdom  could 
 vary  with  the  times,  Jesus  Christ  is  always  the 
 same,  the  virginal  purity  of  his  doctrine  the 
 same,  the  object  of  our  ministry  always  the 
 same;  that  if  there  be  revolutions  in  empires, 
 there  are  never  any  in  our  principles ;  that  if  phi- 
 losophy be  as  versatife  as  opinion,  Religion  is  as 
 unalterable  as  God  himself ;  and  that  if  the  lights 
 of  our  age  be  new,  truth,  which  we  announce,  is 
 eternal. 
 
 But  if,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  your 
 pastors  have  great  duties  to  fulfil  in  your  regard, 
 what  you  owe  them  is  not  less  important.  If 
 they  should  instruct  you,  you  should  hear  them ; 
 if  their  state  obliges  them  to  point  out  to  you  your 
 obligations,  you  should  console  them  by  your 
 faithful  conformity  to  the  holy  laws  imposed  on 
 you  by  the  august  character  of  Christian.  It  is 
 chiefly  in  this  holy  season  of  penance,  and  at  the 
 approach  of  the  Paschal  solemnity  to  which  the 
 church  invites   her  children,    tliat  you  should 
 
(  267  ) 
 
 enter  seriously  into  yourselves.  It  is  in  a  time  of 
 sacrifices  and  privations,  that,  to  the  mortifica- 
 tion of  the  senses,  you  should  add  that  of  the 
 mind.  You  will  mortify  it  as  well  as  the  body, 
 because,  like  the  body,  it  has  its  excesses  and  its 
 intemperance.  You  will  interdict  it  those  cri- 
 minal lectures,  not  less  calculated  to  nourish  its 
 pride  than  to  heighten  its  restless  spirit.  At  the 
 same  time  that  you  will  listen  with  respect  to 
 the  words  of  eternal  life,  you  will  reject  far  from 
 you  those  pestilential  writings  they  sell  you  at 
 so  low  a  price,  but  which  you  would  purchase  so 
 dearly ;  those  hawkers  of  impoisoned  doctrines, 
 who  invade  at  once  the  cabin  of  the  poor  and 
 the  palaces  of  the  great.  At  the  same  time  that 
 you  will  follow  those  Apostles,  those  men  of 
 God,  who  announce  the  good  tidings,  those 
 evangelists  of  the  poo?',  who,  like  those  spoken 
 of  by  Isaias,  announce  peace  and  preach  happi- 
 ness on  the  mountains, {\)  you  will  drive  far 
 from  you  those  preachers  of  impiety  and  rebel- 
 lion, those  enemies  of  order,  who  cannot  be 
 satisfied  until  they  shall  have  disturbed  your 
 tranquillity;  whose  only  object  is  to  make  you, 
 not  happy,  but  discontent.  You  will  shut  your 
 ears  against  those  missionaries  of  corruption  and 
 
 (1)  Isaias  HI,  7. 
 
(  268  ) 
 
 licentiousness,  not  less  enemies  of  the  salvation 
 of  jour  souls,  than  of  the  safety  of  the  state  ;  who 
 do  not  alarm  sinners,  but  tranquillize  them;  who 
 do  not  trouble  consciences,  but  lull  them  into 
 false  repose ;  do  not  awaken  scruples,  but  laugh 
 at  them  ;  and  who,  acknowledging  no  other 
 God  than  reason,  will  teach  jou  to  disregard 
 remorse,  because  remorse  does  not  reason.  In 
 a  word,  you  will  turn  aside  from  those  preachers 
 of  Atheism  and  death,  who  will  not  intimidate 
 you  with  the  fear  of  eternal  punishments,  but 
 would  teach  you  to  brave  them,  like  themselves, 
 with  a  vanity  mingled  with  apprehension.  Far 
 from  animating  you  to  the  conquest  of  Heaven, 
 they  boast,  in  their  despair,  to  make  the  con- 
 quest of  annihilation.  Penetrated  then  with 
 those  great  truths  of  salvation,  still  more  desirous 
 of  becoming  good  Christians  than  great  politi- 
 cians, true  faithful  than  vain  reasoners  j  more 
 occupied  with  the  progress  of  your  virtues  than 
 that  of  your  lights,  you  will  never  forget  that 
 the  most  beautiful  of  all  sciences  is  to  unite 
 yourselves  by  submission  with  him  who  knows 
 all,  as  one  of  the  greatest  blessings  of  God  is  to 
 cnjoj  in  peace  the  fruit  of  one  s  labour.  [\)  Thus 
 will  you  have  gained  all  both  for  this  world  and 
 
 (1)  Eccl.  V,  18. 
 
(:i269  ) 
 
 the  next,  when,  by  the  aid  of  your  faith,  you  shall 
 learn  the  art  of  a  virtuous  life  and  the  science  of  a 
 happy  death. 
 
 Understand  then,  says  the  Prophet,  jou  all 
 who  forget  God;  (1)  you  who  would  reform  all 
 but  yourselves ',  heal  all  except  your  own  de- 
 praved desires  and  earthly  concupiscences  :  you 
 who  imagine  that  every  thing  that  shines  is 
 light,  that  every  thing  that  dazzles  enlightens : 
 who  think  that  your  lights  are  the  more  vivid, 
 because  your  passions  are  more  ardent,  your 
 desires  more  impetuous,  your  vices  more  refined, 
 and  your  souls  more  enfeebled.  Understand 
 once  for  all,  that  to  diffuse  science  is  not  to  dif- 
 fuse light;  that  truths,  and  not  scientific  acquire- 
 ments, are  the  true  riches  of  the  mind,  as  well 
 as  the  true  wealth  of  nations ;  that  we  may  make 
 discoveries  without  acquiring  more  lights,  be- 
 cause nothing,  properly  speaking,  merits  this 
 name  but  what  tends  to  render  us  wiser,  more 
 solidly  established  in  the  order  where  God 
 wishes  us,  more  capable  of  advancing  without 
 pretensions  and  without  noise  towards  the  grand 
 end  of  human  life, — the  happiness  of  others  and 
 our  own  perfection.  Hence  it  is  that  there  are 
 no  true  lights  but  in  Religion,  as  she  alone  can 
 
 (1)  Ps.  XLIX,  22. 
 
(270) 
 
 offer  us  sufficiently  strong-  motives  to  surmount 
 our  irregular  aiFections  and  conquer  ourselves. 
 
 Think  well  that  there  is  infinitely  more  sap 
 and  substance  in  a  single  vrord  of  the  Gospel, 
 than  in  all  the  shov^  of  those  vain  systems,  which 
 we  may  be  utterly  ignorant  of,  or  which  we  may 
 perfectly  comprehend,  without  losing  or  gaining 
 one  single  degree  of  merit.  Think  that  a  child, 
 well  instructed  in  his  catechism,  knows  more  of 
 the  nature  of  his  duties  and  the  true  principles 
 of  social  life,  than  all  those  pretended  doctors, 
 bristling  with  theories  as  little  conducive  to  their 
 happiness  as  to  their  virtue.  Think,  in  a  word, 
 that  no  light  whatsoever  can  supply  that  of  Reli- 
 gion, whilst  Religion  can  supply  all  other  lights  ; 
 that  a  single  Sister  of  Charity,  who  takes  care  of 
 our  poor  sick,  or  a  single  brother  of  the  Chris- 
 tian schools,  who  instructs  our  poor  children, 
 merit  better  of  the  country  and  do  more  good 
 in  one  day  with  their  modest  simplicity,  than  all 
 our  great  thinkers,  all  our  luminaries  of  the  age, 
 with  their  scientific  methods  and  their  brilliant 
 discourses. 
 
 How  shall  we,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Rrethren, 
 better  terminate  this  instruction,  than  by  ad- 
 dressing you  in  these  words  of  the  Saviour  of  the 
 world:  Seek  je  therefore  first  the  kingdom  of 
 God  and  his  justice,  and  all  these  things  shall  he 
 
(2T1  ) 
 
 added  unto  you  :{\ )  that  is  to  say,  that  all  the  rest 
 is  superfluous,  and  that  the  only  thing  necessary 
 and  the  only  principle  of  life,  is  Religion  itself 
 and  justice  which  flows  from  it.  Would  you 
 have  judges  virtuous  and  impartial,  who  will 
 never  sell  justice  ? — you  shall  have  them  :  legis- 
 lators worthy  their  mission  and  your  confidence? 
 — you  shall  have  them  :  schools  to  protect  in- 
 nocence and  the  early  morals,  children  docile 
 and  respectful,  the  joy  and  consolation  of  their 
 parents,  and  parents  that  shall  attract  the  love  of 
 their  children  by  their  cares,  and  their  respect  by 
 their  example  ? — you  shall  have  them.  Would 
 you  wish  to  behold  once  more  the  arts  animated, 
 as  in  the  age  of  our  glory,  by  elevated  taste  and 
 noble  sentiments?  all  the  branches  of  industry 
 and  commerce  flourishing  by  credit,  good  faith, 
 probity  and  confidence?^ — you  shall  behold  it. 
 Et  hcec  oTnnia  adjicientuv  vobis. 
 
 But  by  the  inverse  reason,  you  shall  have  no- 
 thing of  all  that  without  Religion  :  or  rather,  you 
 shall  have  tribunals  where  shall  preside  corrup- 
 tion and  venality  ;  institutors  without  morals, 
 from  whose  hands  shall  go  forth  children  eman- 
 cipated before  the  season,  already  constituting 
 themselves  your  judges,  in  wailing  to  call  them- 
 
 (1)  Matth.  VI,  S3. 
 
(  272  ) 
 
 selves  your  masters;  scandalous  marriages,  unit- 
 ed only  by  law,  but  reproved  of  Heaven  ;  social 
 transactions  without  guarantee  and  oaths  with- 
 out faith  ;  laws,  in  fine,  which,  established  by  the 
 passions  and  discussed  by  unworthy  organs,  shall 
 lose  their  sanctity  and  the  respect  of  the  people ; 
 and  then,  says  the  Gospel,  instead  of  one  un- 
 clean spirit,  seven  others  still  more  so  shall  seize 
 upon  you,  and  the  latter  state  shall  be  worse 
 than  the  former :  your  actual  reforms  shall  be 
 worse  than  past  abuses ;  your  acquired  lights 
 than  past  prejudices ;  your  conquered  liberty 
 than  your  broken  chains  :  your  promises  made 
 with  so  much  assurance,  worse  than  your  demo- 
 litions efiectuated  with  so  much  rashness ;  and 
 your  corruption  by  laws,  than  your  corruption 
 by  morals.  Etfiunt  novissimapejorapriorihus. 
 This  is  what  shall  happen,  as  Christ  says,  to 
 this  perverse  nation,  if  it  obstinately  continue  to 
 forget  its  God  in  order  to  deify  itself,  and  ca- 
 lumniate the  past,  the  better  to  corrupt  the  pre- 
 sent:  sic  erit  et  generationi  huic pessimce .  (1)  All 
 ages  attest  it,  and  against  ages  this  one  shall  not 
 prevail ;  eternal  order  thus  wills  it :  thus  must 
 be  accomplished  the  oracle  of  truth  itself,  that 
 when  the  Religion  of  a  nation  disappears,  the 
 
 (1)  Matlh.  XII,  A5. 
 
( 2n ) 
 
 nation  itself  must  fall  and  disappear  with  her, 
 and  that  happiness  cannot  be  found  but  in  fidelity 
 to  her  laws  :  cum  prophetia  defecerit  dissipabi- 
 tur  populus  et  qui  custodit  legem  heaLus  erit.{\) 
 How  happy  should  we  feel,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  if  we  had  succeeded  in  graving 
 on  your  minds  and  hearts  those  salutary  truths, 
 and  if,  for  proof  of  the  success  of  our  instruc- 
 tions, we  could  witness  the  cessation  of  the 
 various  disorders  that  afflict  our  ministry,  the 
 greatest  of  which,  no  doubt,  is  the  profanation 
 of  the  holy  day  of  the  Lord;  profanation  against 
 which  we  shall  never  cease  to  stand  up.  Scandal 
 so  much  the  more  deplorable,  as  we  do  not  see 
 a  single  example  of  it  in  all  the  Christian  nations. 
 So  much  the  more  afflicting,  as  it  is  continually 
 progressive,  and  no  longer  seeks  to  justify  itself, 
 but  rather,  divested  of  all  fear,  seems  to  brave 
 at  once  the  reproach  of  man  and  the  wrath  of 
 Heaven.  How  consoling  would  it  be  for  us,  if 
 we  had  been  able  to  rekindle  your  zeal,  and 
 recall  to  your  pious  recollections  those  precious 
 establishments,  the  object  of  all  our  solicitude, 
 as  of  all  our  hopes.  We  love  to  remind  you. 
 Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  that  it  is  by  your 
 care  and  the  succour  of  your  charity,  by  the 
 
 (1)  Prov.  XXIX,  18. 
 
(  274  ) 
 
 pious  ofTcrings  of  some  generous  Icstators,  we 
 have  been  enabled  to  enlarge  the  entrance  of 
 the  house  of  the  Lord,  and  to  acquire  the  vast 
 site  on  which  we  have  constructed  llie  second 
 Seminarj  of  Trojes,  and  which  will  almost  dou- 
 ble the  number  of  our  young  candidates  and 
 help  us  to  repair  those  continual  losses  which 
 afflict  our  heart.  But  all  those  benefits  and  the 
 other  resources  Divine  Providence  procured  us, 
 far  from  slackening  the  impulse  of  jour  charity, 
 should  be,  on  the  contrary,  a  new  incentive 
 towards  the  entertrdnment  of  these  holy  schools, 
 destined  to  propagate  the  succession  of  Pastors, 
 without  which  would  soon  be  broken  the  links 
 that  unite  Heaven  and  earth.  Already  our  se- 
 cond Seminary  at  Sens  flourishes  under  the  eyes 
 of  its  wise  superiors,  happily  seconded  by  the 
 virtuous  local  Magistrates.  The  King  himself, 
 informed  of  its  success,  has  deigned  to  grant  it 
 some  marks  of  his  interest  and  particular  bene- 
 volence. So  penetrated  is  he  with  the  impor- 
 tance of  clerical  education;  so  convinced  is  he, 
 that  his  throne  is  more  firmly  established  hy 
 principles  than  by  arms  ;  by  the  zeal  of  pious 
 pastors,  than  by  the  valour  even  of  his  soldiers. 
 His  Majesty  has  not  shown  himself  less  generous 
 towards  our  grand  Seminary,  and  every  thing- 
 leads  us  lo  believe  that  we  shall  still  experience 
 
(  275  ) 
 
 the  happy  effects  of  his  royal  munificence.  \  on 
 will  second,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  this 
 pious  solicitude  of  the  Father  of  the  country, 
 who,  however  great  his  power,  could  not  with- 
 out your  concurrence  fill  up  the  immense  and 
 still  widening  void  of  the  sanctuary,  and  main- 
 tain those  precious  institutions,  whose  prosperity 
 is  one  of  the  "-reatest  blessing's  a  Christian  nation 
 can  expect,  as  their  downfal  would  be  the  most 
 fatal  blow  to  social  life  and  public  happiness. 
 
 Here  follow  several  articles  as  usual. 
 
 Done  at  Troyes,  under  the  seal  of  our  arms, 
 and  the  countersign  of  our  Secretary,  February 
 10,1820. 
 
 -|-  Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes, 
 elected  Archbishop  of  Vienne. 
 
 By  Order, 
 Constant  Mtgneaux,  Canon  Secretary. 
 
(276) 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Boulogne,  elc. 
 
 They  are  approaching,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  those  days  of  grace  and  salvation ; 
 those  days  of  penance  and  reconciliation,  in 
 which  we  love  to  nourish  you,  during  the  holy 
 fast,  in  a  most  particular  manner,  with  the  bread 
 of  instruction,  in  order  to  prepare  your  souls  to 
 receive  the  bread  of  life,  and  to  recall  you  to 
 your  God,  whose  remembrance  is  decaying 
 amongst  us,  and  whose  terrors  are  but  too  sen- 
 sibly diminishing  amidst  the  tumult  of  pleasures 
 and  the  agitation  of  worldly  affairs.  Those  in- 
 structions, as  you  well  know  it,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  are  chiefly  directed  against  the 
 spirit  of  the  age  they  would  erect  into  a  model, 
 in  order  to  render  them  more  profitable,  after 
 
(  277  ) 
 
 the  example  of  all  the  Holy  Fathers,  whoso  well 
 knew  how  to  direct  their  zeal  and  eloquent 
 writings  against  the  predominant  vices  of  their 
 time  ;  and  thus  give  them  a  more  decided  blow 
 and  more  effectually  preserve  from  their  influ- 
 ence the  people  confided  to  their  care.  Could  we 
 avoid  copjinfj-  such  beautiful  examples?  Alas  I 
 the  children  of  this  age  are  far  from  thinking  so. 
 They  wish  that  we  should  confine  ourselves  to  a 
 moral  foreign  to  our  present  disorders,  an  ordi- 
 nary moral  belonging  to  all  times  and  places, 
 and  that,  lost  in  vague  generalities  inapplicable 
 to  the  evils  which  afflict  us,  we  should  not  give 
 to  our  Christian  documents  a  new  direction, 
 whilst  they  give  to  their  corrupting  doctrines  a 
 more  deceitful  colour  and  a  more  insidious 
 form.  They  wish  that  the  graces  of  style  and 
 the  ornaments  of  language  should  be  reserved 
 to  deck  out  vice  and  embellish  falsehood,  and 
 that  every  pen  should  be  mute  that  they  may 
 speak,  and  thus  becoming  masters  of  the  ground 
 diffuse  without  any  obstacle  their  fatal  poisons. 
 It  is  for  us,  on  the  contrary,  a  new  motive  to 
 speak  to  you  without  disguise  or  colouring,  and 
 to  say  to  you  with  the  Prophet :  sound  the  Irum- 
 petj  cry  aloud,  and  cease  not.  (1)     If  God  has 
 
 (1)  Isai.  LVUI,  1. 
 
(  278  ) 
 
 given  jou  any  strength,  employ  it  more  than 
 ever  against  his  enemies  ;  if  he  has  granted  you 
 lights,  maJce  them  shine  out  in  this  darkness s  (1) 
 and  think  that  the  best  use  you  can  make  of 
 them  is  to  lend  a  strong  hand  to  truth,  as  truth 
 deigns  to  employ  your  earthly  arm  in  her 
 defence. 
 
 And  it  is  what  we  shall  again  do,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  in  this  instruction,  in  which 
 we  sliall  continue  to  unmask  the  age,  although 
 we  should  be  looked  upon  as  the  enemy  of  the 
 progress  of  lights  and  incur  their  honourable 
 censures.  We  shall  never  cease  to  combat  the 
 age,  because  it  never  ceases  to  bewilder  and 
 corrupt  us  ;  because  its  spirit  is  as  far  removed 
 from  the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  darkness  from 
 li gilt,  as  Earth  frojn  Heaven.  (2)  We  shall  never 
 cease  to  cry  out  to  you  :  fly  from  amidst  this 
 Babylon.  (3)  Fly  from  this  age,  which  pretends 
 to  enlighten  the  world,  because  it  troubles  it, 
 and  enliven  the  nations,  because  it  inflicts  death 
 upon  them. 
 
 Ungrateful  age!  it  shamelessly  calumniates  the 
 ages  to  which  France  owes  her  glory  and  the 
 nation  its  dignity.     Little  and  frivolous  age,  that 
 
 (1)  Matth.  V,  15.  (2)  Eccl.  II,  13. 
 
 (3)  Isai.  XLVIII,  20. 
 
(  2'9  ) 
 
 imagines  llscU  at  llie  very  zenith  oi  reason, 
 wliilst  it  is  at  the  very  nadir  of  common  sense  ! 
 Poor  and  proud,  one  of  the  three  things  God 
 most  ahominates  :  (1)  and  which,  in  punishment 
 of  its  pride,  Providence  has  decreed  should  never 
 produce  anj  thing  great.  Age,  fondly  enamoured 
 of  itself,  which  takes  its  presumption  for  merit, 
 its  audacity  for  strength,  its  uncertainty  for 
 wisdom,  its  restlessness  for  activity,  its  ruins  for 
 creations,  our  misfortunes  for  its  conquests,  and 
 in  fine  for  its  own  superior  excellence  the  sense- 
 less encomiums  it  bestows  on  itself.  Ao-e  in 
 perpetual  contradiction  with  itself,  it  continually 
 tells  us  that  it  cannot,  that  it  ought  not  go 
 back,  and  yet  these  thirty  years  it  does  nothing' 
 else  than  go  backwards  in  every  path,  except 
 the  path  of  crimes.  We  see  it  continually 
 counting  back  its  own  footsteps,  doing  and 
 undoing  with  the  same  facility,  accommodat- 
 ing itself  to  opinions  as  fickle  and  as  fugitive 
 as  the  fleeting  vapour,  changing  to  everj  wind 
 of  doctrine,  (2)  without  ever  finding  a  point  of 
 repose,  without  fixing  itself  on  any  thing  if  not 
 on  the  art  of  destroying,  thus  verifying  the  word 
 of  the  wise  man,  that  the  impious  know  no  rest, 
 but  wander  unceasingly   in  the  same  circle  of 
 
 (1)  ^ccl.  XXV,  3.  (2)  Eph.  IV,  14. 
 
(  280  ) 
 
 error  aiKloflolly:  impii in circuUu  ambulant, {\) 
 Utterly  incurable  age,  which  no  lesson  can  en- 
 lighten, no  experience  undeceive,  no  chastise- 
 ment correct.  Wearied  bj  force  of  marching, 
 as  the  Prophet  has  it,  in  the  ways  of  iniquity,  (2) 
 it  seeks  rather  to  please  itself  therein  than  the 
 means  of  its  deliverance,  makes  us  pass  from  the 
 throes  of  convulsion  to  the  slumber  of  lethargy, 
 and,  after  having  plunged  us  into  a  torrent  of 
 blood,  would  wish  to  make  us  wallow  in  the 
 mire  of  impiety  and  the  stagnant  waters  of  vice. 
 This  is  the  age.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 that  produces  itself  with  so  much  confidence, 
 and  sets  up  for  a  prodigy  of  light,  beyond  which 
 there  is  no  salvation.  This  the  monstrous  idol, 
 to  which  its  blind  adorers  would  wish  you  to  sa- 
 crifice your  happiness  and  your  glory,  your  prin- 
 ciples and  your  faith,  your  present  interests  and 
 your  eternal  destinies.  Will  it  be  so,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren  ?  Would  you  listen  to  these 
 enchanters,  who,  like  those  spoken  of  by  the 
 Prophet,  have  the  art  of  making  their  very  poisons 
 lovely  P  (3)  and  who,  in  eternal  discord  with 
 reason,  would  fain  make  us  harmonize  with  the 
 age,  that  is,  with  chaos,  and  thus,  forsooth  !  raise 
 
 (1)  P^.  XI,  9.  (2)  Wisd.  V,  7. 
 
 (3)  Ps.  LXV,  5. 
 
( -isi  ) 
 
 us  to  their  own  height,  without  retlecling  that  no 
 created  being-  ever  surpassed  the  elevation  of 
 Lucifer,  and  that  no  fall  was  ever  more  rapid  or 
 more  profound  than  his. 
 
 Would  it  be  true,  that  you  could  still  listen  to 
 those  indefatigable  destroyers,  who  wish  to 
 renew  at  once  your  religious  and  French  educa- 
 tion, who  do  not  fear  to  plunge  the  state  into 
 anarchy  and  desolation,  for  the  mere  pleasure  of 
 reforming  and  renovating  its  youth?  Proud  de- 
 tractors of  our  social  antiquities,  no  less  the 
 enemies  of  their  country,  than  those  of  our  reli- 
 gious antiquities  are  the  enemies  of  God.  Bar- 
 barians, who  thus  openly  decry  the  consecrated 
 maxim  as  old  as  the  world  itself  :  thus  have  our 
 fathers  willed  it.  Modern  Chams,  who  thus 
 despise  the  authors  of  their  days;  who,  not  less 
 criminal  than  the  son  of  Noah,  merit  to  be  visited 
 with  the  same  malediction.  They  never  cease 
 in  their  folly  to  demand  that  time  should  put  its 
 seal  on  their  novel  institutions  ;  and  thus,  by  an 
 inconceivable  contradiction,  they  disinherit 
 themselves  in  the  past,  awaiting  from  futurity 
 the  stability  of  their  works.  They  dare  to  prefer 
 a  future  antiquity,  which  nothing  can  secure  to 
 them,  to  the  antiquity  of  the  past  with  all  its 
 solid  proofs  and  certain  pledges,  and  thus,  at  as 
 much  variance  with  time   as  with  themselves^ 
 
(  282  ) 
 
 they  repose  on  our  grand- children  after  having 
 reviled  our  fathers. 
 
 Is  it  possible  that  you  could  yet  listen  to  those 
 luiughly  enemies  of  prejudice,  who  imagine 
 themselves  emancipated  from  all  errors,  because 
 they  wish  to  receive  no  article  of  faith,  nor  sub- 
 mit to  the  immortal  word  of  God  until  they  shall 
 have  first  submitted  it  to  the  uncertain  reason  of 
 man  :  who  never  thought  that,  though  divested 
 of  the  prejudices  of  the  multitude,  they  had  all 
 the  prejudices  of  their  pride,  of  their  impiety 
 and  of  all  their  passions  mutually  exciting  each 
 other;  that  there  is  no  true  knowledge,  when 
 once  God,  the  source  of  all  knowledge,  is  taken 
 away ;  that  the  humble  faith fol  who  believes,  is 
 more  learned  than  the  sage  who  doubts  ;  that 
 none  is  more  subject  to  prejudices  than  he  who 
 despises  them  all,  as  none  is  more  credulous  than 
 the  incredulous  himself  ;  and  that  of  all  preju- 
 dices, the  most  shameful  and  the  most  fatal  is 
 that  which  attacks  Religion  without  knowing  it, 
 and  which  would  substitute  to  the  belief  of  cen- 
 turies the  wisdom  of  a  day. 
 
 Could  you  still  listen  to  those  politicians  buried 
 in  matter,  whose  viJe  tongue,  as  the  Prophet 
 says,  creeps  along  the  earth,  (1 )  and  who  disown 
 
 (1)  Ps.  LXXI. 
 
(  283  ) 
 
 all  the  poweis  oi  Heaven  and  the  sucreJ  source 
 whence  flows  all  authoritj  and  all  justice,  who 
 would  banish  God  from  society,  not  being  able 
 lo  exile  him  from  the  world;  who  of  kings,  his 
 august  images  and  the  sons  of  the  most  High, 
 make  nothing  but  the  sport  of  the  multitude 
 they  flatter  but  to  deceive,  they  deceive  but  to 
 in  thrall,  and  then  to  compensate  them  for  their 
 misery  and  chains,  not  knowing  what  else  to  do 
 with  them,  they  create  and  call  them  the  sove- 
 reign people  ? 
 
 Is  it  true  you  could  still  listen  to  those  sophis- 
 tical men,  as  the  wise  man  caUs  them,  doubly 
 odious  to  God  and  their  fellows;  who,  by  dint 
 of  seeking  what  they  can  never  attain,  and  of 
 studying  what  they  should  not  learn,  are  cor- 
 rupted, as  St.  Jude  says,  in  what  they  naturally 
 know,  (1)  by  using  their  talents  lo  justify  vice, 
 and  their  reason  to  lead  reason  itself  astray : 
 
 Qui  sophistice  loquitur  odibilis  est.  (1) 
 
 What  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  is 
 there  more  odious  than  those  miserable  thinkers, 
 who  are  continually  thinking  and  who  offer 
 themselves  as  masters  in  the  art  of  thought,  as  if 
 
 (1)  Jude  X,  iO.  (2)  Eccl.  XXXVII,  23. 
 
(  284  ) 
 
 all  ages   and  all  nations  had   nol  thought  be- 
 fore them  !     Deplorable  foUj !    Whence    then 
 have    thej   learned    this   exclusive    science   of 
 thought,  who   then  has  revealed    it   to  them, 
 in  what  cavern  or  abjss  had  it  lain  concealed 
 before   them  ?     Is  it  not  here  we   should  ask 
 them,  with  holy  Job,  whence  cometh  -wisdom y 
 and    from    what    heights    has    she    descended 
 amongst  us?  (1 )  Unde  sapientiavenit  ?  For  if  she 
 comes  from  them,  by  what  right  do  they  impose 
 her  on  us?     And  if  they  allow  that  she  belongs 
 to  mankind,  with  what  front  dare  they  make  so 
 shameful  a  divorce  with  mankind  by  differing 
 from  them  in  belief?     This,  no  doubt,  is  what 
 the  Prophet  deplores,  when  he  complains  that 
 the  earth  is  desolated  with  the  greatest  desolation, 
 because  no  one  thinketh  in  his  heart :   (2)  that  is 
 to  say,  that  every  one  is  a-thinking,  and  no  one 
 really  thinks  on  any  thing,  because  the  heart  has 
 no  share  in  those  thoughts  ;  that  is  to  say,  that 
 every  one  thinks  and  no  one  reflects,  nor  makes 
 any  serious  return  on  oneself.  They  wish  to  think 
 on  every  thing,  except,  as  the  Prophet  says,  on 
 doing  good.     Our    true   desolation,   the  great 
 malady  under  which  we  labour,  is  this  general 
 giddiness  of  mind.   Wishing  to  comprehend  all, 
 
 (1)  Job.  XXIII,  19.  (2)  Jer.  XII,  11. 
 
(  285  ) 
 
 khey  no  longer  understand  lliemselves,  and  we 
 may  well  apply  to  them  these  words  of  the  Pro- 
 phet :  they  march  like  drunken  men  whose 
 \visdom  has  been  devoured.  (1)  Shameful,  but 
 well  merited  chastisement,  which  should  at 
 length  open  our  eyes  and  lead  us  to  think  on 
 every  thing  else  but  what  so  long  occupies  an 
 age  as  frivolous  as  it  is  perverse,  which  imagines 
 it  acts  because  it  thinks,  and  thinks  because  it  is 
 in  agitation ;  wicked  occupation,  says  the  Holy 
 Ghost,  and  labour  as  sad  as  it  is  vain.  Occupa- 
 tionem  pessimam.  (2)  Ah  !  do  not  think.  Our 
 Dearly  Beloved  Brethren  j  this  is  the  empty  toil 
 of  the  idle,  the  curious,  the  declaimers,  of  those 
 minds  as  devoid  of  thought  as  full  of  themselves, 
 puffed  up  with  wind  and  words,  like  those 
 reptiles  that  swell  with  their  own  venom.  Do 
 not  think,  but  pray  ;  for  prayer  is  the  life  of  the 
 soul,  the  source  of  lights  and  the  first  channel  of 
 grace.  Do  not  think,  but  believe  ;  for  faith  is 
 the  true  pathway  of  intellect,  the  surest  guide  of 
 reason,  and,  as  St.  Paul  says,  the  foundation  of 
 things,  (3)  without  which  all  truths  must  totter 
 and  all  principles  crumble  into  ruins.     Do  not 
 
 (1)  Ps.  CVI.  (2)  Eccl.  I,  13. 
 
 (3)  Hebr.  XI,  1. 
 
(  28G  ) 
 
 ihink  but  on  your  salvation,  the  only  thing  neces- 
 sary 5  think  on  God,  profound  in  his  thoughts, 
 and  terrible  in  his  counsels  on  the  children  of 
 men.  Think  on  eternity,  which  should  be 
 the  centre  and,  as  it  were,  the  meeting-place  of 
 your  thoughts,  and  after  that  let  the  age  vanish 
 and  lose  itself  in  its  vaiji  thoughts.  (1)  Never 
 forget  that  the  great  and  only  secret  of  thinking, 
 is  to  live  well ;  and  that,  to  heal  us  of  all  our 
 woes,  and  to  satisfy  all  our  real  necessities,  we 
 need  only  an  upright  heart,  a  sound  reason,  a 
 lively  faith,  a  pure  conscience.  Reflect  that  the 
 true  thinker  is  he  who  best  knows  his  own  ig- 
 norance and  his  own  misery,  who  is  best  con- 
 vinced that  reason  is  not  made  to  command,  but 
 to  obey.  Never  forget,  that  the  thoughts  truly 
 great  and  useful,  truly  worthy  of  the  name,  are 
 those  only  ivhich  do  not  perish  at  the  hour  of 
 death,  which  we  shall  find  again  beyond  the 
 grave,  and  which  we  can  present  with  confi- 
 dence to  the  supreme  tribunal  of  Him  who  is  ^ 
 thought  itself,  who  shall  judge  without  appeal 
 not  only  our  thoughts,  but  our  actions,  and  the 
 very  least  thoughts  that  lie  hidden  at  the  bottom 
 of  our  hearts,  and  in  whose  balance  a  thousand 
 thoughts  will  not  equal  in  value  a  single  virlue. 
 
 (1)  Rom.  I,  21. 
 
(  2«T  ) 
 
 See  to  what  a  pitch,  Our  Deai^ly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, is  arrived  the  public  corruption  which 
 will  shortly  know  no  bounds.  Witness  this  con- 
 fusion of  ideas,  that  makes  of  science  the  art  of 
 doubting-,  and  of  morality  the  art  of  laveering 
 with  all  the  passions ;  in  which  they  call  good 
 evil  and  evil  good;  where  all  notions  of  just  and 
 unjust  are  confounded,  justice  bcomesveng-eance, 
 impunity  justice,  where  vice  pretends  not  only 
 to  avoid  dishonour,  but  to  enjoy  all  the  advan- 
 tages of  virtue  and  to  dishonour  virtue  itself ; 
 where  the  wisest  and  most  moderate  are  those 
 who  seek  to  divide  Christ  Jesus,  (1)  as  St.  Paul 
 says,  in  order  that  He  should  yield  to  all,  even 
 to  the  triumph  of  their  passions,  in  order  that 
 they  may  take  or  leave  Him  according  to  their 
 caprices;  as  if  Jesus  Christ  were  not  truth  itself, 
 or  that  truth  could  admit  a  medium,  or  that  this 
 medium  were  not  as  immoral  as  it  is  chimerical. 
 Save  us  Great  God,  may  we  exclaim  with  the 
 Prophet, /or  the  number  of  thj  truths  is  dimi- 
 nished j  (2)  that  is  to  say,  changed  by  some,  re- 
 jected by  others  and  baffled  by  all ;  because 
 the  only  truth  that  can  deliver  us,  is  the  only 
 one  that  has  not  the  privilege  to  speak.  (3)  Sadly 
 
 (1)  Cor.  I,  13.  (2)   Ps.  XI,  2. 
 
 (3)  Isai.  LIX,  Vu 
 
(  288  ) 
 
 beaten  down  in  the  public  places,  (\)  she  is 
 become  the  sport  and  mockery  of  those  that 
 upHft,  as  of  those  that  repulse  her.  Deplorable 
 and  unheard-of  position  I  It  is  here  we  can 
 recall  the  words  of  Jeremy  :  Lament  ye  Pastors, 
 and  send  forth  loud  cries  ;  (2)  announce  to  Jeru- 
 salem the  misfortunes  which  threaten  her.  Alas! 
 the  tempests  are  appeased,  and  the  ocean  which 
 bellows  to-day  will  become  calm  to-morrow. 
 All  scourges  are  transitory  and  grow  dull  by 
 their  own  violence:  war  has  its  season,  and  fi- 
 nishes by  fatigue  :  contagion  its  crisis,  and  we 
 know  its  remedies:  fanaticism  its  fits,  and  bears 
 within  itself  its  own  counterpoise.  But  who 
 shall  appease  this  fanaticism,  unexampled  in  the 
 history  of  the  world,  which  burns  to  defend 
 religious  indifference,  or  is  enamoured  of  anni- 
 hilation ;  this  zeal  without  conviction,  which 
 combats  with  fury  for  opinions  without  belief, 
 or  for  creeds  without  authority  ?  Who  shall 
 deliver  us  from  this  slow  and  unremitting  fever 
 of  impiety,  which  insensibly  devours  the  gene- 
 rations ;  from  this  undermining  war  against  God, 
 which  still  goes  forward  gnawing  the  social 
 frame  without  shock  or  convulsion  ?  Who  shall 
 preserve  us  from  the  plague  of  this  systematic 
 
 (1)  Gal.  IV,  ;51.  (2)  Jer.  XXV,  SA. 
 
(289) 
 
 and  calculating  atheism,  which  carries  into  the 
 very  heart  of  the  state  the  principle  of  death? 
 Who  shall  conjure  and  dissipate  this  cloud  of 
 shameless  and  licentious  writers  that  cover  and 
 infest  the  soil  of  France,  as  the  cloud  of  venom- 
 ous insects  which  desolated  unfortunate  Egypt? 
 Religion  alone,  which  is  resurrection  and  life^ 
 can  draw  us  from  this  abyss ;  or,  to  speak  with 
 the  Prophet,  from  this  pool  of  misery  and 
 mire.  (1)  And  indeed,  if  France  is  still  more  va- 
 luable than  her  laws;  if  she  is  not  yetsmplhered 
 under  the  heavy  mass  of  her  mighty  ruins  j  if, 
 across  all  her  disasters,  she  still  preserves  so 
 many  traces  of  her  ancient  glory  ;  if  she  still  sur- 
 vives so  many  principles  of  death,  so  many  and 
 such  active  causes  of  destruction,  to  what  should 
 we  attribute  it,  if  not  to  the  very  Religion  they 
 calumniate  and  outrage,  to  this  immense  want 
 felt  and  manifested  on  all  parts  of  returning  to 
 her,  to  this  innate  thirst  for  truth,  to  this  cry  of 
 sentiment  which  nothing  can  wrest  from  the 
 heart  of  man,  that  Religion  is  not  less  necessary 
 to  nations  than  the  root  to  the  tree,  the  founda- 
 tion to  the  edifice,  the  air  to  life.  To  what  attri- 
 bute it,  if  not  to  the  prayers  of  so  many  celestial 
 souls,  to  the  noble  efforts  of  so  many  pious  asso- 
 
 (1)  Ps.  XXX,  S. 
 
(  200  ) 
 
 cialions,  which  arc  daily  leaguing  against  the 
 genius  of  evil;,  as  they  are  inspired  by  the  genius 
 of  virtue  and  the  loveofgdod  works;  if  not,  in 
 short,  to  the  indefatigable  zeal  of  so  many  true 
 Pastors,  so  many  soldiers  of  truth,  who  daily 
 onricli  her  with  llie  most  brilliant  conquests, 
 rejoice  by  their  presence  the  deserts  of  Sion,  (1) 
 and  renew,  in  every  country  where  they  arc 
 sent,  the  wonders  of  the  cross  and  the  prodigies 
 of  its  power. 
 
 This  is  the  consolation,  which  Providence 
 deigned  to  reserve  for  us  in  the  midst  of  such 
 sad  and  anxious  solicitude.  And  we  also,  Our 
 Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  have  received  a  rein- 
 forcement of  those  Apostolic  men  ;   (2)   a  new 
 
 (1)  Isa.  XXXV. 
 
 (2)  M.  L'Al^be  Coudiin,  formerly  Vicar-gcneral  ot" 
 Mende  and  Seez,  Founder  and  Superior  General  of  ihe 
 Religious  Congregation  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  approved  and 
 conGrmed  by  his  Holiness  Pius  VII,  after  the  many  favours 
 bestowed  on  it  by  his  pious  predecessor,  is  at  the  head  of 
 the  Missions  he  himself  established,  under  the  auspices  of 
 the  bishop  of  Troyes,  -who  named  him  his  Vicar-General. 
 He  is  accompanied  in  his  apostolic  courses  by  several 
 Priests  and  Catechists  of  the  Seminary  of  Picpus,  at  Paris, 
 one  of  the  many  Religious  communities  he  has  founded  in 
 France.  ]M.  de  Boulogne  honours  him  ^\\\^\  an  entire  con- 
 fidence, aud  the  sii(rcs?fMl    zeal   Avilli    wliicli  M.  Coiidrin 
 
(  291  ) 
 
 Eslablishment  of  Auxiliavj  Priests  is  forming 
 under  our  ejes,  and  under  the  auspices  of  a 
 repairing  government,  in  order  to  supply  the 
 widowhood  of  so  many  churches,  deprived  long 
 since  of  Pastors,  menaced  with  barbarism,  and 
 to  labour  in  the  cultivation  oi  those  lands  without 
 water  J  where  no  longer  grow  but  brambles  or 
 poisons.  Their  number,  no  doubt,  is  dispro- 
 portioned  to  the  greatness  of  the  harvest ;  but 
 they  supply  this  defect  by  a  holy  and  unbound- 
 ed ardour,  and,  if  they  do  not  multiply  the 
 loaves  in  the  desert,  we  can  say,  that  they  mul- 
 tiply their  persons  j  thus  imitating  the  spirit  of 
 God,  mentioned  in  holy  writ,  which,  though 
 simple  and  one,  spreads  and  multiplies  itself  at 
 will,  and  in  a  single  spirit  discovers  many  ; 
 iinicus  et  multiplex.  (1)  Heaven  has  already 
 blest  their  first  essays.  Our  temples  are  no 
 lono-er  vast  enough  to  contain  the  multitude  thai 
 press  around  our  altars,  nor  our  tribunals  capable 
 of  receiving  so  many  penitents.  What  repara- 
 tions !  What  restitutions !  What  reconcilia- 
 tions I     How  many  prodigal  children  returned 
 
 has  already,  in  the  short  period  of  two  years,  changed  the 
 face  of  the  Diocess,  proves  at  once  his  Lordship's  sagacity, 
 and  the  eminent  merits  of  the  yirtuoas  Missionary. 
 (1)  Wisd.  VII,  22. 
 
 T* 
 
(  20-2  ) 
 
 to  the  paternal  roof !  IIow  many  spouses  into 
 the  path  of  lidehl)'  !  IIow  manj  anti-christian 
 marriages  sanctified  bj  the  benediction  of  the 
 Church,  which  is  that  of  Heaven  !  Ah  !  it  is 
 indeed  of  them  we  can  saj,  as  of  our  Divine 
 IMaster,  that  thej  pass  their  way  in  doing  good., 
 and  doing  nothing  but  good,  incapable  of  doing 
 any  thing  but  good  with  the  pure  and  noble  in- 
 tentions which  guide  them. 
 
 One  of  the  most  sensible  proofs  of  the  Divi- 
 nity of  our  Religion,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, is  this  continual  triumph  of  the  Divine 
 word,  the  power  of  this  grand  and  magnificent 
 voice,  which  Iveahs  the  cedars  and  shakes  the 
 desert  ;  (1j  which  at  one  time  compares  itself 
 to  the  evening  dew,  the  more  softly  to  penetrate 
 the  heart,  at  another  lime  to  the  thunder,  the 
 more  strongly  to  agitate  it ;  now  transforms  itself 
 into  a  soft  shower,  and  again  into  an  impetuous 
 river,  which  rejoices  the  House  of  God;  which 
 with  one  word  overthrows  Saul,  and  with  another 
 awakens  Augustin :  (2)  ineffable  talent,  which 
 can  dispense  with  all  others  and  supply  them, 
 which  the  world  cannot  give,  and  which  God 
 alone  inspires.  Whilst  the  word  of  man  can 
 only  ornament  the  mind  and  flatter  the  ear,  the 
 
 (1)   Ps.  XVIIl,   5.  (2)   Ps  XLV,   5. 
 
(  293  ) 
 
 word  of  God  goes  to  the  verj  marrow  of  the 
 heart,  (1)  enlightens  the  eyes,  and  converts 
 souls.  (2)  Admirable  science,  proportioned  to 
 the  weakest  and  to  llie  strongest  minds  ;  milk 
 for  children,  and  nourishment  for  the  greatest 
 geniuses;  shooting  to  the  highest  regions  like 
 the  eagle,  and  visiting  in  its  descent  the  little 
 ones  in  ihe  most  obscjire  places;  speaking  to  the 
 Greek  and  to  the  barbarian  ;  understood  bj  the 
 poor,  and  making  Kings  themselves  tremble 
 on  their  thrones  ;  unfolding  the  abyss  of  con- 
 sciences, as  it  had  done  that  of  chaos,  and  by 
 a  double  miracle  sanctifying  the  world,  after 
 having  created  it. 
 
 Tliis  is  the  source  of  the  inveterate  hatred,  Our 
 Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  borne  it  by  the  chil- 
 dren of  the  world.  Hence  the  rage  with  which 
 they  pursue  those  Apostolic  men  who  announce 
 it  every  where  with  so  much  success,  and  whose 
 zeal  is  augmented  with  the  obstacles  they  en- 
 counter. How  happens  it  that  so  much  virtue 
 does  not  disarm  those  implacable  enemies  ?  And 
 what  is  wanting  to  merit  their  esteem  and  vene- 
 ration? Nothing  is  wanting  to  their  glory  but 
 the  haired  of  the  wicked  :  this  should  be  their 
 best  eulogium,  and  they  have  obtained  it.     Un- 
 
 (1)  Hebr.  IV,   12.  (2)  Ps.  XXXIV,  20. 
 
(  294  ) 
 
 just  and  ungrateful  men  I  of  what  do  jou  com- 
 plain, and  of  wJiat  do  jon  accuse  them?  Will 
 you  make  a  crime  to  them  of  the  very  haired 
 they  extinguish,  of  the  domestic  dissensions  they 
 appease,  of  the  scandals  they  remove,  and  of  the 
 disorders  they  repair? 
 
 You  speak  of  their  exaggerated  morality. 
 Would  you  wish  they  should  adopt  yours,  that 
 falsely  moderated  morality,  with  which  the 
 wicked  have  all  to  gain,  and  the  virtuous  all  to 
 lose ;  that  fatal  art  of  making  concessions  to 
 vice  and  imposing  restrictions  on  virtue  ;  that 
 sacrilegious  traffic  between  God  and  the  world, 
 Religion  and  impiety,  with  the  perfidious  design 
 to  weaken  and  degrade  the  one,  in  order  to 
 honour  and  encourage  the  other? 
 
 You  accuse  them  of  awakening  painful  recol- 
 lections, and  of  exalting  the  passions  ;  thus  lying 
 to  evidence  itself,  and  to  your  own  hearts,  which 
 are  conscious  that  they  are,  as  the  Prophet  says, 
 pacific  even  with  those  that  hate  peace ;  (1) 
 true  Ministers  of  this  divine  charity,  which  is 
 ever  ready  to  grant  pardon  to  repentance,  and 
 tears  to  the  errors  it  pursues  and  the  vices  it 
 condemns;  placing  at  the  head  of  their  instruc- 
 tions, not  indeed  the  oblivion  of  those  crimes  that 
 
 (1)  Ps.  GXIX,  7. 
 
(  --^^  ) 
 
 shoiiUl  seivo  to  iiiiili'uct  [he  world  aiij  ap[)al  ihe 
 most  dislant  posterity,  but  the  oblivion  oT  inju- 
 ries and  personal  ofFences,  of  faults  inseparable 
 from  human  nature,  and  for  which  an  extreme 
 riyour  would  be  an  extreme  injustice. 
 
 You  speak  of  their  intolerance.  YeSj  no  doubt, 
 they  are  as  intolerant  and  as  inexorable  as  truth; 
 as  intolerant  against  errors  as  the  Catholic 
 Church,  which  admits  no  pact  with  the  doctrines 
 contrary  to  her  faith,  but  tolerant  as  she  is  for 
 erring  and  misguided  persons.  Would  you  then 
 have  them  preach,  that  all  worships  are  good, 
 because  you  wish  that  all  should  be  free  ;  that 
 all  are  equal  before  God,  because  they  are  equal 
 before  the  law  ;  that  there  is  no  true  Religion  of 
 exclusive  salvation,  because  you  wish  that  all  the 
 false  ones  should  be  favoured,  and  that  each 
 man  should  be  free  to  choose  any  of  them  at  his 
 fancy. 
 
 You  afFect  to  say,  that  the  Missionary  Priests 
 occupy  themselves  with  politics.  God  forbid, 
 that  in  their  instructions,  no  more  than  we  do 
 in  ours,  they  should  ever  mingle  discussions  as 
 foreign  to  their  studies  as  to  their  functions.  But 
 there  is  a  celestial  policy,  to  which  all  others 
 should  be  subordinate  ;  an  immutable  policy, 
 with  which  a  people  cannot  be  in  opposition 
 without   punishing  itself;   a  saered  policy,  by 
 
( ^yc ) 
 
 which  Kings  reign,  and  without  which  they  coultl 
 not  long  reign,  and  which  is  nothing  else  than 
 Religion  itself.  Such  are  the  politics  with  which 
 ihej  and  we  are  occupied,  and  shall  continue  to 
 be  so,  if  indeed  we  can  give  the  name  of  politics 
 to  that  science  descended  from  above,  which 
 guides  all  without  being  itself  guided,  the  eternal 
 light  of  society  as  the  sun  of  the  world. 
 
 You  speak  of  the  transports  of  their  zeal,  as  if 
 they  could  transact  with  their  duties,  with  their 
 ministry,  as  you  do  with  principles  and  morality  ; 
 as  if  they  should  manage  iniquity,  because  you 
 are  its  complaisant  flatterers,  and  drink  it  like 
 water,  (1)  as  the  Prophet  says  it.  Can  they  speak 
 otherwise  than  the  Prophets,  than  the  Apostles, 
 than  Jesus  Christ  himself  ;  who,  during  his  mortal 
 life,  never  ceased  to  thunder  against  impenitent 
 Jerusalem,  and  announce  to  the  rebellious  sy- 
 nagogue the  misfortunes  that  were  to  befal  it? 
 Must  then  the  Ministers  of  the  Gospel  no  longer 
 say  with  St.  Paul  :  TVoe  to  me  if  1  do  not 
 announce  the  Gospel?  Must  they  no  longer 
 strive  to  stir  and  stasraer  consciences,  because 
 youno  longer  feel  either  remorse  or  repentance; 
 must  they  no  longer  bear  in  hands  the  thunder  of 
 God,  because  you  defy  it,  and  no  more  own  a 
 master  on  earth  llian  you  do  in  Heaven  ? 
 
 (1)  Job,  XV,  16. 
 
(  29T  ) 
 
 What,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  the  ajce 
 is  already  laid  to  the  root  of  the  treCj  which  is 
 to  be  cut  down  and  thrown  into  the  fire ;  and 
 whilst  this  fire  is  gaining  on  all  sides,  thej  accuse 
 the  sacred  Ministers  of"  crying  too  loudly,  and 
 reproach  them  with  the  crime  oi  throwing  them- 
 selves into  the  midst  of  the  flames  in  order  to 
 extinguish  them!  They  leave  nothing  untried 
 to  slacken  their  zeal  by  hypocritical  fears  and 
 imaginary  troubles  ;  and  whilst  we  do  not  find  a 
 single  page  of  our  public  papers  which  is  not 
 sullied  with  a  homicide,  a  suicide,  a  fratricide,  a 
 parricide,  and  that  a  torrent  of  immorality  is 
 threatening  to  overwhelm  society,  they  seek  to 
 repel  and  blacken  those  men  of  holy  courage, 
 who  alone  are  capable  of  stopping  the  course  of 
 this  new  deluge,  whilst  the  age,  in  order  to 
 ensure  its  superiority,  unites  to  the  faction  of 
 the  seditious  that  which  the  Prophet  calls  the 
 faction  of  the  libertines  )  (1)  whilst  we  behold 
 it.  by  a  double  sacrilege,  shaking  the  palaces  of 
 Kings  and  profaning  the  House  of  God,  they  still 
 dare  to  tell  us  that  we  should  not  thwart  the 
 spirit  of  the  age,  nor  impede,  by  too  lively  exhor- 
 tations, the  happy  movementitimpresses.  Was 
 there  ever.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  a  si- 
 
 (1)  Amos  VJ,  7. 
 
(  29S  ) 
 
 liiilar  delirium  V  What  iheii  I  Is  it  nvc  liiat 
 exaggerate,  or  is  it  the  age  that  is  hurried  away 
 with  passion?  Is  it  we  that  sow  false  alarms, 
 or  is  it  the  age  that  is  running  to  its  ruin  ?  Is  it 
 we  that  suppose  so  many  abominations,  lliat 
 invent  at  pleasure  all  those  nameless  and  un- 
 exampled crimes,  or  is  it  the  age  that  coinniits, 
 provokes,  palliates,  dissembles,  vaunts,  and  jus- 
 tifies them  ? 
 
 Fly  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  those 
 Apostles  of  falsehood,  who  hate  nothing  so  much 
 as  truth ;  who,  abusing  at  once  morality  and 
 language,  not  less  learned  in  sophistry  than 
 fruitful  in  calumny,  have  but  too  well  succeeded 
 in  making  a  bug-bear  of  the  name  of  the  Mis- 
 sionaries. Fly  those  hypocritical  Apostles,  who, 
 counting  as  nothing  your  salvation  and  yom^ 
 souls,  should  only  occupy  themselves  with  your 
 lights,  that  is  to  say,  with  what  is  most  useless, 
 even  were  it  not  most  dangerous,  for  you . 
 Fly  those  Apostles  of  egotism  and  immorality, 
 who  will  sneak  to  you  of  plans  of  fortune  and 
 never  of  virtue,  of  sacrifices  and  of  privations ; 
 whose  whole  mission  is  limited  to  disclose  to  you 
 the  secret  of  acquiring  riches,  no  matter  at  what 
 price  :  for  whom  the  very  words  amendment 
 and  contrition  are  devoid  of  sense,  who  detest 
 all  conversions  and  confessions  as  much  as  they 
 
(  299  ) 
 
 love  troubles  an  J  revolutions  ;  true  missionaries 
 of  hell,  whence  thej  are  sent,  and  in  which  they 
 would  prevent  you  from  JDclieving  because  they 
 fear  it,  as  they  are  irritated  against  those  who 
 preach  Heaven,  because  every  thing  tells  them, 
 that  Heaven  is  not  made  for  them. 
 
 You  will  also  learn  to  know  them  by  their 
 works;  and  as  they  are  so  greatly  offended  by 
 the  number  of  sinners,  whom  holy  exhortations 
 bring  back  to  God,  ask  them  what  wicked  men 
 their  learned  lessons  bring  back  to  reason.  Ask 
 them,  where  are  the  injustices  they  repair,  the 
 dissensions  they  calm,  the  spouses  they  render 
 more  faithful,  the  children  more  docile,  the  un- 
 fortunate more  resigned,  the  victims  of  liber- 
 tinism whose  impetuosities  they  curb  and  whose 
 repentance  they  excite.  Ask  them  above  all  to 
 show  you  a  philosopher  who  reforms,  a  philoso- 
 pher who  pardons,  a  philosopher  who  restores, 
 and,  what  is  still  niore  difficult,  a  philosopher 
 who  humbles  and  mortifies  himself.  Insist  still, 
 and  summon  all  those  professors  of  morality  and 
 philosophy,  who  so  arrogantly  dictate  their  doc- 
 trines to  the  human  race,  to  tell  you  what  can 
 avail  their  prudence  to  calm  the  ardent  passions, 
 their  tempered  morality  to  extinguish  fires,  their 
 learned  calculations  to  appal  the  guilty,  to  soften 
 
(  300  ) 
 
 llie    hardened,     lo    overlhrovv     llie    rebel    and 
 awaken  the  dead. 
 
 Shutling-  jour  ears  against  their  perfidious 
 insinuations,  which  you  will  repel  Tar  from 
 you.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  you  will 
 only  listen  with  more  docility  and  gratitude  to 
 those  venerable  men,  who  will  not  speak  to 
 you  of  prejudices  to  be  conquered,  but  of 
 passions  to  be  surmounted ;  not  of  rights  to  be 
 established,  but  of  duties  to  be  accomplished ; 
 not  of  liberty  to  be  acquired,  but  of  the  chains 
 of  sin  to  be  broken  ;  who  will  not  teach  you 
 to  make  laws,  but  to  know  and  practise  the 
 law  of  God,  without  which  there  are  no  laws. 
 Far  from  stirring  up  the  poor  against  the  rich, 
 the  only  talent  the  children  of  this  age  possess, 
 they  will  move  the  rich  in  favour  of  the  poor. 
 
 Forgetting  themselves  to  think  only  on  you, 
 as  disinterested  on  the  score  of  vanity  as  of 
 fortune,  they  ask  no  other  applauses  but  your 
 tears,  no  other  gratitude  but  your  prayers,  no 
 other  salary  but  your  salvation;  and,  after  ha- 
 ving consecrated  to  the  happiness  of  their 
 Brethren,  their  repose,  their  health,  and  if 
 need  require,  their  lives,  they  demand  lo  be 
 rewarded  by  no  other  hand  than  that  of 
 God. 
 
(  '^01   ) 
 
 And  you  also,  Respectable  Magislrales,  and 
 all  }'Oii  who  preside  over  public  order,  jou 
 will  not  cease  to  protect  those  men  of  God, 
 one  of  whom  renders,  in  a  single  daj,  more 
 service  to  humanity  than  ever  can  do  all  the 
 reasoning  moralists  with  whom  France  is  en- 
 cumbered. You  will  feel  more  and  more  how 
 well  their  ministry,  by  purifying  public  morals, 
 is  calculated  to  second  and  simplify  the  action 
 of  Government,  at  this  day  so  complicated  an 
 art  and  so  difficult  a  talent.  You  will  cause 
 to  be  rendered  to  their  persons  the  respect 
 which  they  procure  for  your  authority ;  you 
 will  favour  their  zeal,  as  they  w^ill  abridge 
 your  labours  and  alleviate  the  load  of  your 
 duties.  Thej  will  pursue  those  vices  which 
 mock  your  vigilance,  and  are  not  even  of  your 
 judicial  competency  ;  they  will  prevent  crimes 
 and  infractions  which  the  laws  know  only  how 
 to  punish. 
 
 Stronger  than  earthly  power,  they  will  pre- 
 pare the  heart  for  submission  and  the  love  of 
 ordep;  and  thus,  by  persuasion  alone,  they 
 will  effectuate  what  the  most  absolute  Kings 
 could  not  command  by  terror.  In  short,  you 
 will  support  each  other,  and  thus  will  it  be 
 true  to  say,  in  a  more  proper  and  literal  sense, 
 
(  m  ) 
 
 that  lliey  will  be  your  co-operalors,  your  helps, 
 and  auxiliaries. 
 
 It  is  then  truCj  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 that  the  depositaries  oi"  authority  feel  more  than 
 ever  the  necessity  ol  this  happy  accord  be- 
 tween the  throne  and  the  altar;  policy  and 
 Religion,  two  things,  says  our  Bossuet,  whicli 
 roll  together  in  the  great  movemeJit  of  ages  :  (1) 
 every  thing  announces  that  they  are  now  fully 
 convinced  that,  if  the  great  work  of  our  rege- 
 neration can  ever  be  accomplished,  it  must 
 be  by  the  holy  alliance  of  the  two  Powers, 
 mutually  assisting  each  other,  and  concurring 
 by  different  means  to  the  same  grand  object, 
 that  of  rekindling  the  sacred  fire  on  the  point 
 of  being  extinguished  amongst  us,  and  of  re- 
 uniting the  interests  of  the  Earth  to  those  of 
 Heaven.  Yes,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 let  piety  be  honoured,  the  sacred  ministry  en- 
 couraged, the  distribution  of  the  word  of  life 
 eOicaciously  supported  ;  let  new  efforts  be  made 
 to  fill  up  the  daily  augmenting  vacancies  which 
 desolate  the  Sanctuary;  let  them  be  sounded 
 from  one  end  of  France  to  the  other^  those 
 evangelical  trumpets,  at  whose  voice  the  wicked 
 
 (1)  Politique  Sacree. 
 
(  mi]  ) 
 
 grow  pale,  and  the  good  are  filled  with  new 
 life;  which  do  not  call  to  battle  and  to  glory, 
 but  to  the  peaceful  conquest  of  souls  and 
 to  the  happiness  of  virtue ;  which  will  over- 
 turn, not  the  walls  of  cities,  like  those  of  Joshua, 
 but  all  those  ramparts,  from  whose  heights 
 audacious  impielj  still  dares  to  defy  Heaven 
 with  its  insolence.  Thus  shall  we  force  Vices 
 into  their  last  retrenchment.  Let  us,  in  a  word, 
 have  Pastors  according  to  the  heart  of  God^ 
 Heralds  of  Truth,  powerful  in  works  and  words, 
 who  shall  diffuse  every  where  the  Christian 
 and  Monarchical  spirit  which  is  the  spirit  oi 
 France,  and  France  is  saved,  and  France  will 
 become  what  she  was,  the  country  of  great 
 talents  and  great  virtues;  and  to  speak  with 
 a  celebrated  writer,  the  fairest  Kingdom  after 
 that  of  Heaven. 
 
 To  this  end  it  is,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, that  we  offer  up  our  ardent  prayers 
 for  the  arrival  of  our  Brethren  of  the  Christian 
 Schools,  who,  though  demanded  on  all  hands, 
 have  not  been  able  to  answer  our  pressing 
 solicitalions,  and  the  desire  of  so  many  vir- 
 tuous people.  It  is  now,  alas !  when  impiety 
 has  formed  the  horrible  system  of  poisoning 
 our  schools,  and  the  detestable  policy  of  cor- 
 rupting   youth,    and    dragging  to   its   ruin    the 
 
(  304  ) 
 
 rising  generalion,  as  it  has  destroyed  the  past: 
 it  is  in  this  extremity  and  deplorable  situation 
 ol  aftairs,  that  it  is  more  urgent  than  ever  to 
 bestow  our  cares  on  the  first  age,  and  repel 
 far  from  it  the  dangers  with  which  it  is  sur- 
 rounded, and  all  the  snares  that  are  scattered 
 on  its  pathway.  Who  can  better  fill  this  dif- 
 ficult employment,  than  those  pious  lustitutors, 
 whose  zeal  equals  their  disinterestedness,  and 
 who  will  furnish  at  once  the  lesson  and  the 
 example  ?  Alas  I  they  too  shall  be  our  aux- 
 iliaries :  they  too  will  have  their  Missions,  as 
 we  can  say  that  childhood  in  ils  precocious 
 perversity  has  need  to  be  converted !  They 
 too    have    their   Crosses    to    plant  {\)  in  their 
 
 (1)  The  Planting  of  the  Cross  is  the  last  but  one  of  the 
 most  solemn  and  touching  ceremonies  of  the  Mission.  It 
 is  generally  of  a  most  imposing  height,  and  its  weight  so 
 considerable,  that  sometimes  fifty,  sometimes  a  hundred, 
 and  even  two  hundred  persons,  carry  it  processionally  to 
 the  place  of  its  destination.  When  the  subscriptions  allow 
 it,  they  attach  to  the  cross  a  Christ  carved,  and  painted  in 
 ils  natural  form  and  colour,  along  with  the  instruments 
 of  the  passion.  With  this  grand  spectacle  before  him,  what 
 emotions  must  not  the  Christian  orator  excite  in  the  hearts 
 of  the  numberless  penitents  prostrate  before  the  image  of 
 the  Saviour,  whose  mercies  they  have  learned  and  felt 
 during  the  instructions,  whose  pardon  they  received  in  the 
 Tribunals  of  penance,  with  whose  life-giving  bread  they 
 
(  305  ) 
 
 Schools,  to  present  it  to  the  respect  and  ailo- 
 ration  of  those  unfortunate  youths,  destined  by 
 their  calling  to  labour  and  to  misery;  and  this 
 sacred  sign  alone  is  infinitely  more  capable  of 
 inspiring  their  hearts  with  good  sentiments, 
 and  their  minds  with  good  thoughts,  than  all 
 those  dry  documents  and  Material  Instructions{\ ) 
 now  in  vogue ;  which  put  nothhig  into  the 
 heart,    and  very  little    into  the   head. 
 
 We  cannot  take  leave  of  you,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  without  speaking  to  you  of 
 our  Seminary,  and  particularly  of  the  new  es- 
 tablishment which  has  been  the  object  of  our 
 solicitude;  and  which,  begun  last  year,  is  now 
 happily  terminated.  After  having  won,  by 
 force  of  entreaties,  or  rather,  after  having  ob- 
 tained from  the  justice  and  piety  of  the  iMost 
 Christian  King  the  Great  Seminary  we  occupy, 
 we  thought  we  heard  the  Lord  say  to  us  by 
 his  Prophet :    ''  Do  not  stop   here,  go  still  for- 
 
 have  been  nourished  in  the  Holy  Communion.  Every  one 
 salutes  the  cross  in  passing.  The  peasants  every  evening 
 make  a  station  at  its  feet;  and  travellers,  beholding  the 
 tears  with  which  they  still  bcAvail  offences  long  since 
 effaced,  have  been  heard  to  exclaim,  tfmt  Iltligion  must 
 be  true. 
 
 (1)  In  allusion  to  the  mechanical  and  pantomime  lessons 
 of  the  Lancasterian  Schools. 
 
 u 
 
(  30G  ) 
 
 ward,  raise  your  pavilions,  and  expand  your 
 tents  :"  dilata  locum  tentorii  tui  et  pelles  taher- 
 naculorum  tuoriun.  (1)  Let  not  the  expenses 
 affright  you,  fear  not,  spare  not,  ne  p areas : 
 count  on  me,  and  you  will  penetrate  without 
 difficulty  from  right  to  left,  et  ad  Icevani  et  ad 
 sinistram  penetrabis.  (2)  Encouraged  by  this 
 word;  and  full  of  confidence  in  Him  who  builds 
 and  no  one  destrojs,  who  destroys  and  no  one 
 biulds  up,  (3)  We  have  put  our  hand  to  the 
 work,  and  God  has  assisted  us,  and  his  work 
 has  grown  to  an  unexpected  height,  and  the 
 holy  edifice  has  come  forth,  as  it  were,  from 
 nothing,  astonished  to  find  itself  on  foot.  Al- 
 ready are  there  reunited  one  hundred  and 
 sixty  pupils  who  console  us  by  their  piety  and 
 happy  dispositions.  What  acts  of  thanksgi- 
 vings have  we  not  to  render  to  Divine  Provi- 
 dence? And  you,  generous  Souls,  who  have 
 hitherto  done  so  much  for  our  clerical  family, 
 how  much  should  you  now  redouble  your  zeal, 
 in  order  to  preserve,  increase^  and  perfect  this 
 precious  School,  which  will  be  for  the  city  of 
 Troyes  a  new  subject  of  edification,  for  our 
 Diocess  a  new  pledge  of  Heaven's  protection, 
 
 (1)  Isai.  LI\,  3.  (2)  ibid. 
 
 (3)  Kings,  XIV. 
 
(  307  ) 
 
 and  for  our  Episcopacy  a  new  source  of  grace 
 and  benediction.  Thus,  sajs  Holy  Writ,  when 
 Solomon  had  finished  the  house  of  the  Lord, 
 his  reign  was  prosperous,  and  every  thing  suc- 
 ceeded according  to  his  desires  :  complevit 
 Salomon  domiim  Domini  et  prosperatus  est. 
 
 It  is  on  you,  chiefly,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Co-operators,  we  must  call  for  succour  in  this 
 important  undertaking.  Not  only  you  will  make 
 with  zealous  fidelity,  the  collections  ordered  by 
 us,  and  from  which  no  pretext  can  exempt 
 you;  not  only  will  you  pay  to  the  Holy  House 
 which  educated  you,  the  annual  tribute  imposed 
 on  you  by  gratitude,  but  you  will  still  labour  to 
 form  for  it  worthy  subjects,  and  prepare  for 
 the  Sanctuary  those  chosen  children  who  may 
 present  themselves  to  you,  by  cultivating  their 
 minds,  proving  their  vocation,  and  protecting 
 their  innocence.  They  are  the  best  alms  you 
 can  bestow,  the  most  meritorious,  the  most 
 worthy  of  you,  and  the  most  suitable  to  your 
 state  and  means.  Thus  concurring  to  the 
 glory  of  the  Sanctuary,  you  will  contribute 
 to  your   own. 
 
 You  will  partake  of  all  the  good  these  chil- 
 dren will  in  time  perform;  you  will  find  therein 
 the  sweet  recompense  of  your  labours;  you 
 will  honour  yours,  and  console  ours;  you  will 
 
 u 
 
(  308  ) 
 
 merit  the  gratitude  of  every  friend  of  the  Church 
 and  of  Rehgion,  and  furnish  us  a  new  motive 
 of  recalling  to  mind  those  words  we  delight 
 to  repeat.  Solomon  finished  the  House  of  the 
 Lord,  and  every  thing  succeeded  well  with 
 him,  and  he  was  ever  happy  in  all  his  en- 
 terprises.    Et  prosperatus  est. 
 
 Here  follow  several  ordinances  similar  to 
 those   already  noticed. 
 
 Done  at  Troyes,  under  the  seal  of  our  arms, 
 and  the  countersign  of  our  Secretary,  Febru- 
 ary 23,  1821. 
 
 -|-  Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troves, 
 elected  Archbishop  of  Vienne. 
 
 By  Order, 
 
 Constant  Migneaux,  C.  Secretary. 
 
(  309  ) 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTION 
 
 On  the  occasion  of  Lent  1822. 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Boulogne,  etc. 
 
 Of  all  the  divine  characters,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  which  distinguish  the  moralitj 
 of  Jesus  Christ,  and  place  it  at  so  great  a  dis- 
 tance from  all  others,  none  is  so  striking  as  this 
 abnegation  and  self-denial,  of  which  none  of  the 
 sag-es  before  Him  had  ever  doubted.  All  the 
 decl aimers  of  the  Portico  had  said,  abstain,  ah- 
 stine  ;  but  none  ever  said,  renounce  yourselves, 
 abneget  semetipsum.  They  have  indeed  said  : 
 abstain  from  those  pleasures  which  might  injure 
 heaith,  from  all  excesses  which  might  enfeeble 
 the  body  :  none  of  them  ever  said,  we  must 
 mortify  the  body.     They  have  indeed  said  :  ab- 
 
(  310  ) 
 
 stain  from  all  vain  cares  and  useless  precautions, 
 which  are  only  proper  to  sadden  the  heart  and 
 and  disturb  the  spirit's  tranquillity;  none  of  them 
 ever  said,  we  must  mortify  the  spirit.  Jesus 
 Christ  alone  has  proclaimed  this  double  morti- 
 fication, this  double  abstinence,  which  severs  man 
 entirely  from  himself,  to  subject  him  to  a  spirit 
 far  greater  than  his  own,  the  source  of  all  virtue 
 and  lig-ht.  Mortify  the  body,  in  order  to  repress 
 vice  and  elevate  the  soul,  (1)  as  speaks  the 
 church  ;  mortify  the  spirit,  to  render  the  cor- 
 poral privations  more  meritorious  j  this  is  the 
 whole  secret  of  the  Gospel,  the  whole  science 
 of  the  Christian,  the  whole  happiness  of  the 
 faithful  soul. 
 
 Yet,  there  is  an  essential  difference  between 
 the  fast  of  the  body  and  that  of  the  spirit.  We 
 can  be  dispensed  with  in  one  for  lawful  reasons, 
 no  motive  can  exempt  us  from  the  other.  This 
 is  the  fast  of  all  ages  and  conditions,  and  it  is  in 
 this  sense  we  can  truly  say,  that  every  one  is 
 obliged  to  fast ;  the  feeble  and  the  strong,  the 
 young  and  the  old,  the  rich  and  the  pooir,  the 
 sick  and  those  in  health.  But  in  what  consists 
 this  renunciation,  this  abstinence,  or,  to  speak 
 with  the  Gospel,   this  crucifixion  of  the  spirit. 
 
 (1)  Preface,   Quachag. 
 
(  311   ) 
 
 None  oi  you,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  can 
 here  mistake  it.  It  consists  in  this  renunciation 
 of  intemperate  pride,  source  of  all  our  miseries; 
 of  this  insatiable  curiosity,  one  of  our  greatest 
 mental  maladies;  of  this  spiritual  libertinism, 
 parent  of  incredulity ;  of  this  love  of  false  science, 
 which  only  inflates  the  mind,  and  leaves  in  the 
 soul  no  virtuous  sentiment ;  of  this  rage  of  end- 
 less reasoning  on  things  we  should  not  know, 
 and  oi  scrutinizing  matters,  (i)  as  the  wise  Man 
 says,  more  elevated  than  ourselves  ;  in  a  word, 
 of  this  vain  luxuriancy  of  superfluous  knowledge 
 and  idle  studies,  whose  end  is  not  God  ;  poor 
 pasture  of  feeble  minds  and  narrow  souls,  or,  to 
 say  it  still  with  the  wise  man,  miserable  labour 
 carried o^ by  the  wind  (2)  and  lost  for  eternity. 
 This  is  the  spiritual  penance,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  and  the  interiour  fast  chiefly 
 imposed  on  us  by  the  Divine  Legislator,  the  ex- 
 cellence and  necessity  of  which  are  so  great, 
 that  without  it  the  corporal  abstinence  would  be 
 of  no  avail  for  salvation,  of  no  merit  before  God. 
 In  this  sense  can  we  truly  say,  that  the  spiritual 
 fast  is  the  true  nourishment  of  the  soul,  whereas 
 it  purifies,  enriches,  and  strengthens  it.  Thus  the 
 more  it  abstains,  the  more  it  acquires;  the  more 
 
 (1)  Eccles.  Ill,  22.  (2)  Ibid.  V,  15. 
 
( ^«'-^ ) 
 
 it  iiumbles  itself,  the  nearer  it  approaches  lo  the 
 source  of  all  good  ;  and  thus,  its  abundance  and 
 riches  spring-  from  its  very  poverty.  It  is  then,  it 
 becomes  fitter  for  serious  meditation,  and  this  self- 
 recollection  so  necessary  in  order  to  disabuse  it 
 of  wordly  illusions,  penetrate  it  with  the  nothing- 
 ness of  life,  and  bring  back  its  thoughts  towards 
 the  eternal  years.  It  is  then  that,  divested  of 
 itself,  it  is  but  the  more  capable  of  receiving  the 
 spirit  of  God,  of  humbling  itself  under  his  hand, 
 oi  trembling,  as  the  Prophet  says,  at  the  ^iew  of 
 His  judgments,  (1)of  profiting  of  the  graces  He 
 bestows,  or  the  chastisements  He  sends  us,  and 
 of  all  the  great  lessons  unceasingly  given  us  by 
 His  justice  or  His  mercy. 
 
 And  surely,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  if 
 this  spirit  of  meditation  and  of  self-recollection 
 should  be  recommended  to  you,  it  is  principally 
 in  those  deplorable  days  in  which  we  live.  It  is 
 surely  more  necessary  in  this  age  of  phrensy  and 
 infatuation.  And  when  were  ever  more  subjects 
 for  serious  reflexion,  more  motives  than  at  pre- 
 sent of  returning  to  ourselves,  or,  as  the  Prophet 
 says,  to  our  hearts.  To  what  a  degree  should 
 we  be  possessed,  or,  as  the  Wise  Man  has  '\\,fas- 
 cmnled,  (2)  in  order  not  to  be  astonished  at  the 
 
 (1)  Ps.  CXX.  (2)  >Yisd.  IV,   12. 
 
(  313  ) 
 
 spectacle  of  our  miseries,  and  the  sad  image  of 
 so  man  J  crimes  superadded  to  so  many  follies? 
 On  all  parts  how  manj  lessons  comparatively 
 deepening  with  instructive  terrors  !    It  is  now, 
 indeed,  we  can  saj  with  the  Apostle,  that  every 
 creature  groans,  and  that  the  whole  world  is  in 
 the  throes  of  child-birth.  (1)  Why  do  the  nations 
 chafe  with  wrath,  and  the  people  meditate  vain 
 projects  P  (2)    What  means   this  disquiet,    this 
 vague  restlessness,  this  unexampled  agitation  ? 
 What  here  should  most  alarm  ?  Is  it  the  anarchy 
 of  the  mind,  or  the  consumption  of  the  heart? 
 Is  it  the  effervescence  of  the  one,  or  the  mortal 
 chill  of  the  other?     Is  it  the  sick  that  deceive  the 
 physicians,  or  the  physicians  that  deceive  the 
 sick?     What  then  is  this  fantastic  Divinity,  this 
 delirious  liberty,  which  knows  neither  what  it 
 wishes,  nor  where  it  tends,  nor  what  it  says,  nor 
 what  it  does,  and  which  the  multitude  pursues, 
 provided  it  but  hear  its  name?  (3)     Inconceiv- 
 able giddiness  !   We  find  it  foretold  by  the  Pro- 
 phet Jeremy  :  you  have  not  been  willing  to  hear 
 me,  in  order  that  each  of  you  might  at  pleasure 
 preach  liberty  to  his  brother,  but  behold,  says 
 the  Lord,  I  announce  it  to  you,  and  you  shall 
 
 (1)   Rom.  VIII,  22.  (2)  Ps.  II,  k. 
 
 (3)  Bossuet,  Funeral  Oration  of  the  Queen  of  Eag^land. 
 
(  31/.  ) 
 
 find  it  either  in  war,  or  in  pestilence,  or  in  fa- 
 mine, and  I  will  give  jou  ?io  other  power  and 
 strength  than  to  shake  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
 earth.{\)  0  prophecy  too  literally  accomplished  ! 
 does  it  contain  a  single  word  that  is  not  refer- 
 able to  what  we  have  seen,  or  to  what  we  wit- 
 ness?    Is  it   the   prophecy,   is  it  the  abridged 
 history  of  this  age  of  trouble  and  commotions, 
 which,  in  ransom    for  so   many  victims  immo- 
 lated on  the   altar  of  liberty,  has  hitherto  only 
 found  war^  or  famine,  or  pestilence,   or  these 
 three  scourges  united  together?     We  no  longer 
 have  war,  our  children  are  no  longer  devoured 
 for  the  triumph  of  a  single  man :  we  no  longer 
 labour   under  famine,    and    abundance   is   re- 
 turning with  security ;    we   have    never    been 
 visited    with  pestilence,    in   this  point  happier 
 than  a  neighbouring  nation  dear  to  Frenchmen 
 by  more  than  one  title.       Labouring  at  once 
 under  two  mortal  fevers,    one  of    which   at- 
 tacks the  vital  principle  of  the  human  body, 
 and    the    other    impregnates    with   its  deadly 
 venom  all  the  veins    of  the  social  frame,  (2) 
 
 (1)  Vos  non  audistis  me,  ut  predicaretis  libertatem 
 unusquisque  fratri  suo :  Ecce  ego  praedico  libertatem,  ait 
 Dominus^  ad  gladium,  ad  peslem,  ad  famem ;  et  dabo  vos  in 
 commotionem  cunclis  regnis  tense. — Jerem.  XXXIV,  17. 
 
 (2)  The  daily  accounts  from  Spaio  confirm  the  truth  of 
 
(  315  ) 
 
 Spain  thus  finds  herself,  by  this  double  con- 
 taoion,  infinitelj  more  unfoi'tunate  than  she  ever 
 was  under  the  barbarous  Moors  who  conquered 
 her.  If  we  have  been  preserved  to  this  daj 
 from  this  fatal  contagion,  shut  out  from  us  by 
 those  inaccessible  mountains  that  seem  to  pro- 
 hibit its  passage,  have  we  alike  escaped  from 
 a  fever  still  more  terrible  and  disastrous,  which 
 undermines  and  consumes  us  ;  which  has  not 
 arrived  amongst  us  from  beyond  the  seas,  but 
 which  sprung  up  in  the  midst  of  us  from  the 
 revolutionary  Volcano,  threatens  to  transplant 
 into  the  two  hemispheres  the  bitter  fruits  of 
 our  soil.  (1) 
 
 This  is  the  fever  of  an  unbridled  impiety, 
 as  fearless  in  its  boldness  as  it  is  triumphant  in 
 its  impunity.     It  is  the  fever  of  novelty,  whose 
 
 his  Lordship's  assertion.  It  is  indeed  true  that  the  Rings 
 of  Europe  should  succour  their  Brother  in  captivity,  the 
 Bourbons  their  Royal  Kinsman,  France  her  best  ally. 
 She  latterly  sent  her  nuns  and  her  physicians  to  deliver 
 Spain  from  the  plague.  Was  not  this  as  it  were  a  pledge 
 that  she  -would  raise  in  the  same  country  the  standard  of 
 Religion  and  Legitimacy  to  deliver  her  from  the  double 
 contagion  of  impiety  and  rebellion  under  which  she  now 
 labours  ? 
 
 (1)  Witness  the  Revolution  which  is  after  taking  place 
 in  the  Spanish  Colonies. 
 
(310) 
 
 ills  are  daily  redoubling;  the  fever  of  a  dis- 
 loyal philosophy,  which  these  thirty  years  is 
 nourished,  but  never  satiated  with  crimes.  How 
 much  it  is  to  be  feared  that  we  have  been  so 
 infected  with  its  virulent  poisons,  that  it  is  no 
 longer  possible  for  us  to  escape,  and  that  it 
 shall  turn  into  this  incurable  wound  spoken  of 
 by  the  prophet,  which  mocks  all  the  secrets  of 
 the  art,  and  renders  every  remedy  useless : 
 plaga  insanahilis .  (1) 
 
 Alas !  we  justly  thank  the  able  Doctors,  who 
 furnish  us  with  the  means  of  guarding  against 
 corporal  pestilence;  but  who  shall  preserve  us 
 from  that  of  the  heart  and  of  the  mind?  What 
 ventilations  shall  dissipate  the  dark  vapours  that 
 have  arisen  from  the  bottom  of  the  abyss?  What 
 remedies  to  be  applied  to  the  cankers  and 
 plague-sores  of  those  cadaverous  souls,  cor- 
 rupted with  egotism,  materialism,  epicurianism, 
 and  atheism?  We  may  take  our  precautions 
 against  physical  pestilence,  from  the  hideous 
 spectacle  it  offers  to  our  senses;  but  how  se- 
 cure ourselves  against  this  moral  plague,  which 
 attacks  us  with  all  the  witchery  of  voluptu- 
 ousness, the  love  of  independence,  and  the  de- 
 ceitful repose  in  crime  which  it  promises.   We 
 
 (1)  Isa.  XIV,  6. 
 
(  317  ) 
 
 may  burn  the  clothing  of  the  infected  patient, 
 but  what  shall  we  burn  before  all  those  obscene 
 and  impious  writers,  who  corrupt  the  vouth  of  the 
 country,  and  make  a  sport  of  exalting  its  passions, 
 and  a  glory  of  justifying  its  crimes,- whose  first  ob- 
 ject is  to  poison  our  schools  by  criminal  publica- 
 tions, not  less  made  to  degrade  literature  than  mo- 
 rality? What  shall  we  burn  before  all  those 
 masters  of  lies,  who,  as  the  prince  of  Apostles 
 says  it,  introduce  amongst  us  sects  of  perdition. {\  ) 
 What  sanative  measures  shall  we  employ  to 
 purge  those  numerous  schools,  where  impiety 
 and  libertinism  mutually  fortify  each  other? 
 We  may  ruin  a  house  whence  proceed  con- 
 tagious vapours,  but  how  demolish  all  these 
 political  work  shops,  or  rather  those  gloomy 
 caverns  where  they  melt  down  empires,  where 
 so  many  artizans  of  iniquity  forge  the  rights  or 
 the  chains  of  man,  and  fabricate  those  social  or 
 anti-social  compacts  which  desolate  the  world  ? 
 How  pull  down  those  seats  of  pestilence,  from 
 which  a  swarm  of  uncommissioned  and  un- 
 blushing preachers  deal  out  so  many  maxims 
 subversive  of  all  moral  order,  and  so  many  se- 
 ditious discourses,  which,  as  Saint  Paul  says, 
 work  their  way  like  a  canker? (2)      In    short, 
 
 (1)  II.  St.  Pet.  JI,  1.  (2)  IT.  Timothy,  II,  17. 
 
(  318  ) 
 
 we  may  cut  off  all  communications  with  an  in- 
 fected country;  hut  what  barrier  shall  we  raise 
 against  all  those  fetid  and  corrosive  doctrines, 
 which  menace  with  destruction,  not  one  city, 
 not  one  province,  but  tlie  very  body  of  the  slate 
 and  the  vital  principle  of  social  existence? 
 
 Such,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  is  the 
 sad  but  faithful  picture  of  our  moral  corruption. 
 We  may  say  it  with  as  much  candor  as  cou- 
 raere,  it  is  in  her  schools  that  France  is  sick  ; 
 here  lies  the  true  state-sore.  Houses  of  educa- 
 tion should  now  more  than  ever  employ  the 
 attention  of  authority,  as  it  is  on  them  that  re- 
 poses the  fate  of  the  Monarchy,  and  the  happi- 
 ness or  misfortune  of  future  generations. 
 
 God  forbid  that  we  should  here  give  way  to 
 indiscreet  censures,  or  throw  the  slightest  shade 
 on  those  respectable  men,  who,  in  this  branch, 
 are  the  depositaries  and  agents  of  public  power. 
 Eut  would  it  be  an  insult  to  them,  or  rather  do 
 we  not  enter  into  their  wise  views,  and  do  ho- 
 mage to  their  noble  intentions,  by  aspiring  to 
 a  more  fixed  and  competent  system  of  public 
 instruction?  What  then  !  we  daily  reform  laws 
 that  have  been  so  learnedly  discussed  and  so 
 highly  sanctioned;  and  we  would  fear  to  reform 
 laws  declared  simply  provisional,  (1j  law^s  at 
 (1)  The  university  Taws  sanetiotied  by  Bonaparte. 
 
(  31!)  ) 
 
 least  suspicious  bj  their  very  origin,  and  which 
 not  clothed  with  the  Sacred  Seal  of  the  legiti- 
 mate Sovereign,  will  never  obtain  confidence  or 
 respect ;  and  yet,  perhaps,  it  will  be  looked 
 upon  as  most  rash,  to  provoke  in  so  capital  a 
 point,  an  amelioration  so  much  sighed  lor  by 
 every  friend  of  Religion  and  the  Monarchy. 
 
 AVe  leave  then  to  others.  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  the  care  of  discussing  such  or  such  a 
 point  of  discipline,  such  or  such  a  method, 
 such  or  such  means  of  perfecting  profane  rudi- 
 ments and  grammatical  studies  ;  but  what  cannot 
 be  indifferent  in  our  eyes,  what  essentially  inte- 
 rests our  holy  ministry  and  could  not  be  looked 
 on  as  foreign  to  our  solicitude,  is  the  object,  the 
 end,  and  the  securities  of  moral  and  religious 
 education;  the  faith  and  virtue,  more  than  the 
 ability  of  the  masters ;  the  zeal  to  inculcate  the 
 holy  maxims  and  first  duties  of  Christianity ;  the 
 preference  that  should  be  given  to  education 
 before  instruction,  which  is  no  more  education 
 than  science  is  virtue,  or  wit  the  teacher  of  the 
 heart.  Can  we  persuade  ourselves  that  this  ob- 
 ject and  this  end  are  determined  with  sufficient 
 clearness  and  precision?  Can  we  behold  with- 
 out grief  those  securities  abandoned  to  the  dis- 
 cretion and  authority  of  those  who  are  not  their 
 natural  judges?     Can  we  behold  without  pain 
 
(  3-20  ) 
 
 the  scarcity  of  good  masters,  or  rather  the 
 number  of  masters  in  open  contradiction  with 
 their  Pastors,  and  as  little  capable  of  giving  the 
 lesson  as  the  example?  Who  can  deny  that, 
 now-a-days,  they  are  more  occupied  with  the 
 rules  of  language,  than  the  rules  of  morals;  and 
 that  instruction,  which  at  best  puts  but  w^ords 
 in  the  head,  has  acquired  more  importance  than 
 education  which  puts  good  sentiments  into  the 
 heart?  Can  Ave  pass  by  in  silence  the  sad  stale 
 of  so  many  schools,  where  each  can  found  a 
 doctrine  apart,  and  a  mode  of  instruction  as 
 fickle  as  opinion,  as  versatile  as  interest  or  ca- 
 price? And  may  we  not  say,  in  more  than  one 
 respect,  that  the  French  schools,  novel  as  they 
 are,  are  already  tottering  to  decay  by  the  very 
 dint  of  their  novelty?  No  doubt,  they  no  longer 
 employ  themselves  therein,  as  in  the  days  of  des- 
 potism, to  form  slaves  and  soldiers  ;  but  is  their 
 principal  object  to  form  good  Christians,  in  or- 
 der the  more  easily  to  form  good  citizens  ?  No 
 doubt,  we  are  far  from  that  fatal  system  that 
 had  at  first  made  of  public  instruction  a  dis- 
 guised conspiracy  against  Religion  ;  but  does 
 Religion  preserve  therein  this  ascendancy,  this 
 imposing  authority  peculiar  to  the  Queen  of 
 minds  and  the  supreme  rule  of  morals?  No 
 doubt,  there   are  religious  exercises  ;  but  who 
 
(  321   ) 
 
 does  not  see  the  little  importance  attached  to 
 them?  And  is  not  one  induced  to  believe,  on 
 beholding  the  manner  in  which  they  are  per- 
 formed, that  Religion  is  rather  permilted  tlian 
 practised,  rather  tolerated  than  honoured? 
 
 Is  it.  Our  Dearlj  Beloved  Brethren,  the  fault 
 of  the  Institulors,  or  of  the  Institution?  Is  it 
 the  age  that  imposes  the  law,  or  the  law  that 
 yields  to  the  spirit  of  the  age?  What  portion 
 must  we  allot  in  it  to  things  or  to  men  ?  How-- 
 ever  it  may  be,  we  cannot  here  avoid  remarking 
 the  equivocal  stale  and  the  precarious  position 
 of  Religion  ;  and  this  policy,  too  much  alas  !  in 
 vogue  in  our  days,  of  making  of  it  a  secondary, 
 an  accessary  object  of  education.  We  cannot  but 
 deplore  this  fatal  tendency  of  minds  to  make  no 
 more  of  it  than  a  problem,  and  to  envelop  it  in  so 
 many  windings  and  cautious  restrictions  that 
 we  no  longer  know  to  what  degree  we  should 
 believe  or  teach  it.  No  one  has  yet  dared  or 
 pretends  to  say  that  Religion  should  not  enter 
 into  public  education,  the  impious  themselves 
 are  often  the  first  to  establish,  at  least  not  to 
 contradict  this  evident  necessity;  and  this  no 
 doubt  is  no  small  homage  rendered  to  Reli- 
 gion by  an  hypocritical  impiety  which  here 
 does  not  dare  to  betray  itself,  and  thereby 
 make  an    absolute  divorce    with    the    human 
 
 X 
 
(  .T22  ) 
 
 kind.  Bui  what  means  this  word  Religion? 
 It  is  here  that  the  children  of  the  world  dis- 
 pute with  each  other  the  palm  of  subtlety  and 
 artifice.  What  a  succession  of  systems  still 
 more  tortuous  the  ones  than  the  others!  AVe 
 were  first  told  to  abandon  the  dogmas  and 
 only  attach  ourselves  to  the  precepts  of  the 
 Catholic  Religion :  as  if  the  precepts  and  dog- 
 mas could  be  separated  and  did  not  guarantee 
 each  other  I  Then  they  spoke  to  us  of  a  Ca- 
 techism of  morality  ;  lying  rudiment^  in  which 
 each  constitutes  himself  judge  of  his  morality, 
 and  consequently  learns  to  dispense  with  it. 
 Next  arrived  a  religious  moral,  which  is  nothing 
 else  but  a  Religion  without  moral,  or  a  moral 
 without  Religion,  true  labyrinth  where  morality 
 loses,  and  impiety  alone  can  find  its  way.  At 
 one  time,  they  showed  forth  Religion  under  the 
 brilliant  and  seductive  varnish  of  a  pure  Reli- 
 gion, which  can  only  be  preached  in  the  temple 
 of  reason.  At  anothejr,  they  presented  us 
 with  the  magic  words  of  liberty  and  toleration, 
 that  is  to  say,  the  liberty  of  taking  or  leaving 
 it,  and  the  art  of  tolerating  every  thing  but 
 Religion.  It  is,  in  fine,  I  know  not  what  phan- 
 tom of  worship,  of  which  they  would  fain  be 
 speaking  without  saying  any  thing,  or  of  which 
 they  wish  to  say  something  in  order  not  to  speak 
 
(  :m  ) 
 
 of  it  at  large.  Slavery  of  a  new  kind,  under 
 which  Religion  has  more  cause  to  complain  of 
 the  chains  she  sees  not,  than  of  those  thej  show 
 her :  new  machination  come  forth  from  hell,  to 
 strike  against  Religion  a-more  dangerous  because 
 unsuspected  blow;  to  pursue  her  without  noise 
 or  commotion ;  to  make  her  be  forgotten,  as 
 they  dare  not  openly  combat  her;  to  persecute 
 her  by  treachery  when  they  can  no  longer  do 
 so  by  violence;  to  drown  her  in  a  deluge  of 
 words,  as  they  had  not  been  able  to  overwhelm 
 her  in  a  torrent  of  blood. 
 
 Let  us  then,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 abandon  those  fraudulent  words  and  treacherous 
 discourses,  that  we  may  hold  more  firmly  than 
 ever  to  the  unshaken  principles  of  faith.  Let 
 us  abandon  this  Catechism  of  moralitj,  to  con- 
 fine ourselves  invariably  to  that  of  our  Pastors. 
 Let  us  leave  this^/ee  Religion,  to  submit  our- 
 selves to  the  obligatory  and  necessary  one,  with- 
 out which  the  whole  rule  of  duty  would  be  aban- 
 doned to  chance.  Let  us  quit  this  pureReligion, 
 in  order  unreservedly  to  attach  ourselves  to  that 
 of  our  Divine  Master,  out  of  which  there  is  no- 
 thing pure,  nothing  certain  for  our  happiness 
 and  the  salvation  of  our  souls,  no  good  morality, 
 no  good  education. 
 
 Assuredly    they   are  busy  enough  about  this 
 
(  324  ) 
 
 svstem  of  puhlic  elementary  insiruction  :  but, 
 we  ask  it,  what  inslruc-tion  more  elementarv 
 than  Religion,  this  primordial  reason,  which 
 precedes  all  reason,  the  parent  of  all  our  know- 
 ledge, and,  as  the  Apostle  sajs,  the  verj  foun- 
 dation of  things.  (1)  What  instruction  fitter 
 for  childhood,  more  appropriate  to  its  first  wants, 
 better  adapted  to  its  feeble  power  I  What  lan- 
 guage more  simple,  more  within  its  reach  I  What 
 more  proper  to  penetrate  the  hearts  of  children^ 
 and  to  lie  graven  in  their  memory  !  Is  it  not  of 
 Religion  that  the  Holj  Ghost  says :  it  renders  the 
 tongues  of  children  eloquent,  (2)  even  before 
 they  know  how  to  speak?  What  morality  bet- 
 ter calculated  to  serve  as  basis  to  public  instruc- 
 tion, than  that  which,  every  one  understands 
 without  difficulty  or  effort  j  which  speaks  to  men 
 of  every  nation  and  of  every  tongue,  which  ex- 
 cludes no  one  for  poverty  or  ignorance,  receives 
 alike  the  widow  with  her  mite,  the  poor  man  with 
 his  cup  of  cold  watery  the  simple  with  their 
 creed,  the  child  with  his  catechism,  thereby  re- 
 sembling to  the  Heavenly  manna  whicli  every 
 one  might  gather.  And  w^hen  our  great  wits 
 come  aTid  tell  us  that  it  is  only  fit  for  the  people 
 they  despise,  though  they  call  it  sovereign,  they 
 
 (1)  Hebr.  II,  1.  (2)  \Yisd.  X,  21. 
 
(  325  ) 
 
 speak  more  truly  than  they  imagine,  and  pro- 
 nounce unwittingly  its  fairest  apology,  by  show- 
 ing us,  in  this  magnificent  expansion  ol  light  pe- 
 culiar to  Religion  alone,  that  it  is  the  true  sun  of 
 Justice  which  strikes  every  mind,  as  the  sun  of 
 Nature  strikes  every  eye,  thereby  far  superior  to 
 this  nebulous  reason  so  eulogised  in  our  days, 
 whicli  arises  so  slowly,  declines  so  rapidly,  and 
 which,  deprived  of  the  beam  of  Religion,  and 
 delivered  up  to  its  own  perplexities,  can  never 
 furnish  for  an  elementary  system  but  the  ele- 
 ments of  chaos. 
 
 We  shall  say  as  much.  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  for  the  unity,  the  conformity  called  for 
 on  all  hands,  as  the  indispensable  attributes  and 
 necessary  conditions  of  public  instruction.  What 
 is  more  congenial  to  unity  than  Religion,  one  by 
 essence,  one  as  truth,  one  as  the  Godhead  whence 
 it  originates  ;  to  uniformity  in  instruction  and 
 education,  than  this  same  Religion,  descended 
 from  Heaven,  and  which,  no  more  than  its  Divine 
 Author,  cannot  own  one  shade  of  vicissitude  P 
 What  disorders,  what  anarchy  must  not  await 
 those  modern  fabricators  of  education,  who 
 would  seek,  without  Religion,  for  uniformity  in 
 their  schools?  As  if  this  morality  they  would 
 fondly  render  problematical  were  not  already 
 found;  as  if  there  could  be  any  other  than  that 
 
(  ^^20  ) 
 
 of  Religion,  as  if  morality  could  ever  be  uniform 
 without  this  fulcrum  which  fixes  it,  this  sanction 
 which  consecrates  it,  and  this  Divine  Authority 
 which  makes  it,  not  a  matter  of  calculation 
 but  of  duty;  not  a  system  but  a  law;  as  if  it  were 
 not  evident  that,  without  this  august  and  eternal 
 uniformity,  there  would  be  as  many  moralities 
 as  schools,  without  speaking  of  those  schools 
 whence  morality  would  be  excluded.  Shameful 
 uncertainty,  sad  variation,  still  more  fatal  than 
 simple  ignorance,  and  by  which  there  would 
 exist  but  an  eventual  and  provisional  instruction 
 as  much  opposed  to  the  majesty  of  Religion  as 
 to  the  dignity  of  a  great  people. 
 
 Never  then  forget,  O  you  to  whom  are  con- 
 fided the  various  functions  of  public  instruction, 
 never  cease  to  repeat  it  to  your  own  bosoms, 
 that  without  Religion  everything  would  perish  in 
 your  hands;  that  therein  only  are  to  be  found  at 
 once  the  faithful  mirror  and  the  only  guarantee 
 of  the  reciprocal  duties  of  masters  and  scholars ; 
 that  without  it  you  would  have  no  more  right  to 
 be  believed  than  feared,  that  it  alone  can  give 
 value  to  your  labours,  weight  to  your  instruc- 
 tions, splendour  to  your  functions;  can  alone  al- 
 leviate your  pains  and  abridge  the  difficulties  in- 
 separable from  your  calling.  Without  Religion, 
 the  cultivation  of  letters  and  tlie  education  of  the 
 
(  327  ) 
 
 mind  would  be  only  a  new  misfortune  and  new 
 means  of  perversion  and  corruption.  Religion 
 alone  possesses  the  splendid  privilege  of  being 
 the  chief  guardian  of  innocence  in  the  schools, 
 as  it  is  in  empires  the  greatest  bulwark  of  Royal 
 Majesty. 
 
 We  hear  continually  spoken  of  a  society  of 
 instruction,  and  more  than  ever  we  feel  its  ne- 
 cessity. But  what  would  such  a  society  be  with- 
 out Religion  but  a  body  without  a  soul,  teaching 
 nothing,  or  knowing  not  what  it  would  teach  ; 
 what  would  it  be  but  an  edifice  without  a  foun- 
 dation, a  labyrinth  without  issue,  an  empty  word 
 to  deceive  our  ears  ?  Human  philosophy  could 
 not  rule  the  mind,  nor  submit  it  to  ilsdoctrines,  but 
 by  two  ways  ;  by  force  without  authority,  which 
 would  be  unjust  and  tyrannical,  or  by  authority 
 without  force,  which  to  it  would  be  impossible. 
 Relis-ion  alone  reunites  at  once  force  and  autho- 
 rity  ;  a  force  which  commands  without  tyranny, 
 and  a  Sovereign  authority  which  ensures  obedi- 
 ence without  efiPort  as  without  injustice.  This 
 is  a  peculiar  character  of  the  Catholic  Religion, 
 which  is  in  itself,  by  its  divine  constitution,  no- 
 thing but  a  teaching  hodj,  without  which  mark 
 it  would  cease  to  exist.  Supreme  tribunal,  in- 
 vested by  Christ  himself^  with  the  right  of  pro- 
 nouncing without  appeal  j  it  defines  when  doubt 
 
(  328  ) 
 
 hesitates;  condemns  when  heresy  goes  astray; 
 shows  to  opinion  the  point  where  it  should  stop  ; 
 thus  terminating  disputes,  whilst  reason,  aban- 
 doned to  itself,  can  only  perpetuate  them. 
 Without  this  power,  there  would  no  longer  exist 
 any  thing  sacred  in  faith,  any  thing  fixed  in  in- 
 struction, any  solid  truths  amongst  men  ;  and  it 
 is  because  they  want  this  fundamental  basis,  that 
 all  the  communions,  separated  from  the  bosom 
 of  the  Catholic  Church,  fall  into  dissolution,  melt 
 away,  and  lose  themselves  in  the  boundless  ocean 
 of  human  opinions,  and  are  no  longer  but  a  sha- 
 dow of  themselves. 
 
 And  can  we  speak  of  a  societj  of  instruction^ 
 without  recalling  to  our  minds  those  Illustrious 
 Societies  which  have  educated  our  fathers,  and 
 bequeathed  us,  by  their  eminent  services,  such 
 great  and  glorious  recollections  ?  What  tempest 
 has  uprooted  those  antiquated  trees,  under  whose 
 tutelary  shade  the  youth  of  France  used  to  shelter 
 themselves  from  the  first  storms  of  the  passions  ? 
 What  parching  blast  has  then  dried  up  those 
 fruitful  sources  of  light  and  virtue;  happy  focus 
 of  rivalry  and  labour,  where  every  acquirement 
 was  put  into  a  common  stock ;  the  noble  de- 
 positaries of  preserving  principles  and  sound 
 doctrines?  How  can  we  here  avoid  accusing 
 this    genius   of  destruction,    whose    devouring 
 
(  329  ) 
 
 scythe,  like  that  of  death,  has  moved  over  the 
 most  sacred  objects,  whose  sacrilegious  arm,  as 
 the  Prophet  says,  has  stretched  itself  forth  on 
 every  thing  precious  and  lonely  in  Sion.{\) 
 Alas!  they  exist  no  longer;  those  venerable  con- 
 gregations, as  laborious  as  disinterested,  who 
 knew  no  other  ambition  than  that  of  being  useful, 
 no  other  recompense  than  that  of  doing  good, 
 no  other  emolument  than  the  progress  of  their 
 pupils ;  wherein  the  splendour  of  the  body  dif- 
 fused itself  on  each  member,  and  the  zeal  of 
 each  member  harmonized  with  the  glory  of  the 
 whole  body.  Animated  with  this  divine  breath, 
 source  of  all  creation,  they  seemed  to  brave  the 
 hand  of  time,  alone  knew  the  great  art  of  self- 
 perpetuation,  and  attested,  by  their  long  dura- 
 tion, that  every  thing  done  and  inspired  by  Re- 
 ligion bears  with  it  the  stamp  of  its  strength  and 
 the  seal  of  its  immortality.  They  are  then  no 
 more !  and  how  much  does  not  our  affliction 
 deepen,  when  we  reflect  that,  perhaps,  they 
 would  make  a  crime  even  of  our  vows,  even 
 of  ourregrets,  nay,  even  of  our  gratitude.  The 
 very  name  oi  Religious  Congregation,  as  that  of 
 Missionary,  makes  impiety  chafe  and  bellow 
 with  rage;   but  this  rage  is  their  best  eulogy, 
 
 (1)  Jerem.  I,  10. 
 
(  330  ) 
 
 deposes  more  loudly  in  their  favour,  and  be- 
 comes a  new  proof  of  the  need  we  have  of  them, 
 the  immense  good  they  produced,  and  the  no 
 less  considerable  advantages  their  return  would 
 still  procure  us.  In  vain  would  the  age  forget 
 or.  disown  them.  The  facts  speak :  evidence 
 strikes  us  here  on  all  sides,  and  we  should  vo- 
 luntarily blindfold  ourselves,  not  to  see  that 
 nothing  can  be  substituted  in  their  stead.  What 
 is  this  inconceivable  infatuation  ?  Can  we  be- 
 lieve our  eyes,  when  they  tell  us  that  it  is  a 
 thing  resolved  and  decided,  on  the  part  of  those 
 men  implacable  against  the  past,  to  will  nothing 
 that  have  willed  our  Fathers,  to  repel  far  from 
 them  every  thing  that  was,  because  it  was,  and 
 thus  to  prefer  to  the  wisdom  of  ages,  the  wis- 
 dom of  a  day. 
 
 In  vain  would  they  tell  us,  that  those  Societies 
 of  Education  are  no  longer  in  harmony  with  our 
 manners,  with  the  new  lights,  and,  to  speak  the 
 emphatic  language  of  the  day,  with  our  new 
 civilization.  God  forbid.  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  we  should  think  so,  that  we  should 
 offer  to  the  French  nation  the  insult  of  believing 
 her  so  little  enlightened,  so  much  her  own 
 enemy,  as  to  fear  and  reject  the  same  kind  of 
 education  to  which  she  owed  her  civilized  and 
 polished    forms.     God    forbid    we   should    be 
 
(  331   ) 
 
 Frenchmen  so  degenerate  as  to  imagine,  as  in- 
 compatible with  our  laws  and  institutions,  the 
 return  of  those  Religions  Congregations  which, 
 re-established  under  the  auspices  of  the  laws 
 themselves,  would  become  their  surest  stays  and 
 their  principal  auxiliaries.  Far  from  us  for  ever 
 the  idea^  that  we  cannot,  without  betraying  the 
 love  we  owe  our  King,  and  the  devotedness  we 
 owe  our  Country,  hail  and  invoke  the  return  of 
 those  Religious  Associations  our  Kings  have  so 
 much  protected,  and  which  have  covered  our 
 country  with  so  much  glory  ;  in  whose  bosom 
 have  been  educated  all  the  Great  Men  France 
 can  so  proudly  boast;  whence  have  gone  forth 
 so  many  immortal  productions  which  do  honour 
 to  the  human  mind ;  the  asylum  which  saved 
 from  barbarity  the  precious  deposit  of  sciences 
 and  of  letters ;  by  whose  means  public  educa- 
 tion was  carried  to  that  pitch  of  perfection  and 
 splendour,  to  which  we  could  never  attain  with 
 all  our  laborious  calculations,  our  cold  theories, 
 our  learned  processes,  our  impromptu  tactics, 
 and  our  adventurous  essays. 
 
 In  vain  the  age  moves  and  advances ;  it  must 
 stop,  or  carry  ofF  the  world  with  itself  into  the 
 abyss.  It  must  arise  from  its  lethargic  slumber, 
 or  the  thunder  shall  awaken  it.  It  must  re- 
 nounce its  false  lights,  or  await  barbarity;  ren- 
 
(  332  ) 
 
 der  to  Religion  its  ancient  influence  in  education^' 
 or  Religion  must  perish;  must  return  to  God 
 and  his  holy  law,  or  God  shall  abandon  us  with- 
 out return.  But,  no  I  God  will  not  abandon  us  ; 
 He  will  not  suffer  the  glories  of  Sion  to  be  ex- 
 tinguished for  ever.  France  is  still  His  people, 
 and  He  daily  proves  it  to  us ;  whereas  we  behold 
 our  horizon  daily  clearing,  and  our  soil,  thrown 
 up  to  so  great  height,  gradually  reposing  each 
 day,  and  re-assuming  new  consistency.  He  has 
 latterly  given  us  a  sweet  pledge  of  it  in  the  new 
 organs  of  Supreme  Power,  whom  our  virtuous 
 Monarch  has  honoured  with  his  confidence,  and 
 who,  we  doubt  not,  will  justify  His  choice,  and 
 the  hopes  of  the  nation.  May  they  never  for- 
 get, that  there  is  but  one  true  strength,  that  of 
 justice;  one  true  courage,  that  of  truth;  one 
 true  policy,  the  genius  of  good;  and  but  one 
 true  path  of  State-Government,  as  of  eternal 
 salvation,  the  straight  road,  the  only  safe  one, 
 the  only  one  which  leads  to  life.  May  they  be 
 more  and  more  persuaded  that  Religious  Edu- 
 cation is  the  only  true  National  one;  the  only 
 one  worthy  the  name;  the  one  to  which  all 
 others  should  be  subordinate ;  the  only  one 
 which  can  supply  all  others,  and  cannot  be  itself 
 supplied  by  any,  after  the  example  of  all  ages 
 and  nations,  which  have  all,  without  exception. 
 
(  333  ) 
 
 confided  public  instruction  to  the  hands  of  Re- 
 ligion. May  they,  in  a  word,  feel  and  acknow- 
 ledge that,  if  the  Catholic  Religion  be  the 
 Religion  of  the  State,  and  that  this  title  be  not 
 an  empty  name  and  an  illusory  privilege,  to  Her 
 belongs,  above  all,  the  right  of  being  taught  in 
 the  State,  and  of  holding,  in  public  education, 
 the  rank  which  is  due  to  Her — that  is  to  say,  the 
 first.  To  Her,  who  gave  birth  to  our  ancestors, 
 created  France,  founded  her  throne,  and  planted 
 her  lilies,  enhanced  the  Crown  of  our  Monarchs 
 by  the  consecration  of  their  foreheads,  honoured 
 them  with  the  title  of  Her  Eldest  Sons,  marked 
 their  legitimacy  with  the  seal  of  lime,  and 
 thereby  acquired  for  Herself  a  legitimacy  as  ini- 
 prescrip table,  the  violation  of  which  would  be 
 a  real  felony,  and  which  the  nation  could  not 
 disown  without  repudiating  and  disowning  itself. 
 But  w^hatever  changes  and  successive  modifica- 
 tions Public  Instruction  and  the  System  of  its 
 Organization  may  undergo,  whatever  justice 
 may  be  rendered  to  the  wishes  of  every  true 
 friend  of  Religion  and  Royalty,  we  shall  not  the 
 less  feel  it  a  duty,  as  much  as  in  us  lies,  to  watch 
 over  the  Schools  of  our  Diocess.  How  could 
 we  neglect  their  care  and  think  them  foreign  to 
 our  solicitude?  To  visit  and  superintend  them  is 
 an    obligation    inherent    in   our    Ministry,    and 
 
(  :m  ) 
 
 essential  to  our  Pastoral  charge.  No  one  can 
 give  or  take  away  the  right  we  possess,  with 
 that  of  your  instruction,  of  conducting  you  in 
 the  ways  of  Salvation,  of  administering  the 
 Sacraments,  of  preserving  youth  from  the  dan- 
 gers it  may  have  to  encounter.  Who  would 
 pretend  that  the  right  of  superintendance  and 
 inspection  is  a  precarious  concession,  made 
 to-day  to  be  revoked  to-morrow;  would  they 
 not  thereby  attack  Moral  Education  in  its  source, 
 and  destroy  Episcopacy  in  its  last  foundations? 
 And  you,  also,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Co-operators, 
 you  can  and  should  say  as  much  of  your  re- 
 spective Schools.  This  charge  should  equally 
 interest  you,  as  you  have  here  contracted  the 
 same  responsibility.  This  is,  besides,  the  first 
 and  the  most  sacred  of  your  obligations.  You 
 can  be  no  more  molested  in  fulfilling  it,  than 
 commanded  to  keep  silence  when  you  announce 
 the  word  of  God.  And,  what  affliction  would 
 be  yours !  What  misfortune  for  you  if  those 
 children  of  your  zeal,  and  of  your  hearts,  after 
 having  been  instructed  in  your  Catechisms,  be- 
 came perverted  in  their  Schools,  and  lost  therein 
 the  fruit  of  your  lessons!  It  is  here  then  you 
 should  redouble  your  attention  and  vigilance. 
 It  is  principally  in  those  bad  days,  when  I  know 
 not  what  moral  putrefaction  pervades  on  all  sides 
 
(  335  ) 
 
 ihe  body  of  jjOcietj,  attacking  it,  like  the  Man 
 of  Sorrow,  from  the  sole  of  the  feet,  to  the  verj 
 suTumit  of  the  heady  (1)  that  you  should  recall 
 to  mind  those  words  of  the  Saviour:  That  we 
 are  the  salt  of  the  earth,  and  that  if  the  salt  lose 
 its  flavour,  there  is  no  other  preservative  against 
 co7'ruptio7i(2).  You  will  then  put  yourselves  above 
 those  insipid  precautions,  this  timid  condescen- 
 sion, which  would  only  enervate  the  strength  of 
 truth,  and  the  holy  authority  of  your  Ministry. 
 
 You  will  never  forget  that  this  age  would  be 
 the  first  to  brand  you  with  coward  complaisance; 
 that  it  only  asks  concessions  on  your  parts  to 
 insult  you  with  greater  haughtiness,  and  turn 
 them  against  yourselves,  thereby  to  ravish  from 
 you  the  last  remains  of  respect  still  left  you  by 
 your  virtue  and  your  courage. 
 
 And  you,  Fathers  and  Mothers,  reofardinsT  it 
 as  your  first  duty  to  ensure  the  happiness  and 
 salvation  of  your  children  by  a  Christian  Edu- 
 cation, fear  nothing  so  much  as  to  confide  them 
 to  hands  so  unsafe,  so  unworthy  your  confi- 
 dence. A  simple  and  easy  method  of  discerning 
 the  Schools,  without  running  any  risk  of  error 
 or  mistake,  lies  before  you.  Consult  your  Pas- 
 tors, and  observe  the  Schools  they  watch  over 
 
 (1)   Isai.  I,  6.  (2)  Mauh.  V,  13. 
 
(  33G  ) 
 
 and  direct.  Wberever  education,  as  well  as 
 he  who  educates,  is  not  ensured  bj  your  Pas- 
 tors, there  is  no  Christian  School  there  ;  instruc- 
 tion there  is  suspicious,  and  the  Masters  danger- 
 ous. Such  are  the  true  means  of  avoiding 
 mistakes,  and  of  doing  nothing  inconsiderately, 
 in  so  capital  a  point;  of  fulfilling  what  you  owe 
 to  God,  to  yourselves,  and  to  your  children,  and 
 of  satisfying  at  once  your  conscience  and  your 
 tenderness. 
 
 Amongst  those  consoling  Schools  which  merit 
 the  entire  confidence  of  families,  and  the  esteem 
 of  virtuous  men,  you  should  chiefly  distinguish, 
 Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  those  called 
 Christian  Schools,  really  worthy  of  the  name. 
 This  long  time  we  desired  to  have  one  of  them 
 in  our  Episcopal  City,  and  we  have  been  happy 
 enough  to  succeed  in  our  desires,  with  the  found- 
 ed hope  of  soon  obtaining  another.  We  have 
 had  the  consolation  of  instalHng  it  ourselves, 
 and  of  presiding  at  its  solemn  inauguration  in 
 our  Cathedral  Church. 
 
 If  we  should  thank  Divine  Providence  for 
 this  precious  School,  whose  happy  effects  we 
 daily  experience,  would  we  not  also  be  unjust  ' 
 and  ungrateful  towards  God,  if  we  lost  sight  of, 
 or  could  forget,  those  other  valuable  establish- 
 ments, as  pious  as  useful,  which  we  still  ow  e  to 
 
(  337) 
 
 his  special  protection?  Not  to  speak  here  of 
 those  worthy  Hospitalers,  those  Angels  of  Car- 
 mel,  who,  from  the  summit,  of  their  Sacred 
 Mount,  conlinuall  J  stretch  forth  to  Heaven  xlidr 
 supplicating  arms;  how  sweet  it  is  to  recall  to 
 mind  those  respectable  communities,  wholly 
 consecrated  to  the  instruction  of  the  poor,  and 
 the  education  of  youth  ;  that  of  the  Visitation, 
 rivalling  with  that  of  the  Ursulines;  the  New 
 House  of  Refuge,  where  virtue  and  repentance 
 are  hailed  with  equal  joy;  and  that  of  the 
 Adorers  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  (1)  who  are  not 
 
 (1)  The  foundations  of  the  Religious  congregation  of  the 
 Sacred  Heart,  approved  by  a  Bull  of  his  Holiness  Pius 
 VII,  were  laid  in  the  very  commencement  of  the  French 
 Revolution,  by  the  Countess  Henrietta  Aymer  de  la  Che- 
 valerie,  a  Lady  of  distinguished  rank  and  still  more  emi- 
 nent piety,  conjointly  with  M.  L'Abbe  Coudrin,  in  whom 
 she  found,  like  another  Chantal,  the  milder  and  attractive 
 virtues  of  St,  Francis  of  Sales.  The  fall  of  Robespierre 
 delivered  her  from  the  prison,  where  she  was  awaiting, 
 with  other  victims  of  his  tyranny,  the  day  of  execution, 
 and  gave  her  back  to  Religion  she  is  still  consoling  by  the 
 good  odour  of  her  virtues,  and  to  her  country  she  is  still 
 enriching  with  many  precious  asylums  for  piety  and  po- 
 verty. At  the  age  of  fifty  years,  and  Avithin  the  period  of 
 the  Revolution,  she  has  already  been  the  Foundress  and  Su- 
 periorGeneralof  morethansixhundred  professed  Nuns,  and 
 
 Y 
 
(  338  ) 
 
 so  devoted  to  holy  meditation  as  not  to  aspire 
 withal  to  the  happiness  of  rendering  themselves 
 useful,  and  who  only  wait  the  favourable  mo- 
 ment of  giving  themselves  up  to  the  gratuitous 
 instruction  of  the  poor! 
 
 If  we  add  to  all  those  precious  resources  the 
 House  of  our  Missionaries,  destined  to  evangelize 
 the  Poor  in  our  Diocess,  and  who  daily  bring 
 forth  the  happiest  fruits  of  grace  and  salvation, 
 can  we  forbear  to  congratulate  ourselves  before 
 God  and  Men  on  a  state  of  things  as  consoling 
 for  the  Pastor  as  salutary  for  the  flock?  What 
 more  is  wanting  to  effectuate  in  our  Episcopal 
 City  a  happy  regeneration  in  morals  and  virtue, 
 that  may  one  day  render  it  worthy  to  be  called, 
 
 has  sUll  the  consolation  of  seeing  her  numerous  children 
 daily  increasing.  In  each  of  her  Establishments,  accord- 
 ing to  the  rule  of  the  Congregation,  one  or  two  Nuns  adore, 
 in  uninterrupted  succession,  day  and  night,  the  Blessed 
 Sacrament  of  otir  Altars.  She  has  already  founded  houses 
 in  Paris,  Poitiers^  Mende,  Cahors,  Sarlat,  Seez,  Laval, 
 Tours,  Rennes,  Mans,  Troyes,  Mortagne,  etc.  etc.  etc. 
 and  many  applications  have  been  addressed  to  her  from 
 other  Dioceses.  In  each  of  her  establishments  the  Nuns 
 devote  themselves  to  the  education  of  Young  Ladies  of  the 
 better  classes  of  Society,  and  to  the  gratuitous  instruction 
 ©f  the  poor. 
 
(  339  ) 
 
 like  Jerusalem,  the  Faithful  City,  the  City  of 
 GodF 
 
 Could  we  speak,  Our  Dearlj  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren^ of  all  those  precious  and  holy  establish- 
 ments, without  mentioning  at  the  same  time  our 
 Great  and  Small  Seminary,  which,  by  their  con- 
 tiguity, encourage,  edify,  and  consolidate  each 
 other.  (1)  You  have  been  informed  of  the  sepa- 
 ration of  the  two  Departments,  hitherto  submitted 
 to  our  Episcopal  Jurisdiction.  This  separation 
 will  be,  no  doubt,  an  advantage  in  the  present 
 state  of  the  Church  of  France;  but  in  what 
 respect  will  it  serve  our  two  Seminaries?  We 
 have  yet  to  learn  it.  In  the  mean  time,  it  re- 
 mains but  too  well  proved,  that  these  fruitful 
 nurseries  are  thereby  deprived  of  many  im- 
 portant resources,  which  had,  until  now,  ad- 
 vanced them  to  the  present  state  of  their 
 prosperity. 
 
 It  is  but  too  true,  that  this  state  of  prosperity 
 cannot  but  lower,  if  your  charity  relents  and 
 does  not  make  new  efforts  to  repair  the  sup- 
 pression of  a  great  number  of  burses  in  both 
 
 (1)  The  See  of  Sens,  then  united  to  that  of  Troyes,  has 
 been  re-established  by  the  last  Concordat,  and  is  now  go- 
 verned, as  formerly,  by  its  own  Archbishop. 
 
(  340  ) 
 
 Seminaries,  and  the  retrenchment  of  the  greater 
 part  of  the  collections  now  become  foreign  to 
 us  by  this  separation.  These  new  circumstances 
 necessitate  new  alms,  and  new  annual  collec- 
 tions, which  we  have  resolved  to  publish.  And, 
 indeed,  we  flatter  ourselves  that,  far  from  dis- 
 couraging jour  generous  piety,  they  will  only 
 the  more  excite  it  in  favour  of  those  young 
 Levites,  whom  we  nourish  at  once  with  the 
 bread  of  instruction  and  the  bread  of  life.  And 
 liow,  indeed,  could  those  children  be  forgotten? 
 Are  they  not  the  principal  poor,  the  most  in- 
 teresting by  their  age,  by  their  growing  piety, 
 and  the  happy  omens  we  discover  in  them? 
 Are  not  they  the  poor,  most  worthy  of  fixing 
 the  public  interest  by  their  vocation  to  a  state 
 entirely  consecrated  to  the  alleviation  of  poverty, 
 destined  at  least  to  console  the  poor  when  it 
 cannot  assist  them,  to  aid  them  by  zeal,  when  it 
 cannot  relieve  them  by  charity?  To  forget 
 those  real  poor,  to  be  indifferent  to  their  lot, 
 and  to  the  maintenance  of  an  establishment  in 
 which  we  bring  them  up  for  the  State  as  well 
 as  for  the  Church,  for  the  service  of  the  Prince 
 and  that  of  the  Altars,  and  without  which  the 
 other  poor  would  want  institulors,  intercessors, 
 guardians,    consolers,    advocates,   and   fathers, 
 
( 3/.1 ) 
 
 would  be  to  betray  at  once  the  cause    of   Re- 
 ligion and  Country. 
 
 We  cannot  conclude  this  Instruction,  Our 
 Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  without  here  pour- 
 ing forth  our  sorrows  on  the  horrible  profana- 
 tion lately  witnessed  in  one  of  the  Cities  of  our 
 Diocess.  There  has  been  seen;  as  in  the  City 
 of  Rheims,  a  young  lad,  scarcely  come  out  of 
 the  years  of  childhood,  but  already  arrived  to 
 such  a  degree  of  daring  and  impious  phrensv 
 as  to  approach — not,  indeed,  as  Oza,  a  rash  hand 
 to  the  Ark,  but  an  impure  mouth — to  the  Holy 
 of  Holies,  and,  by  an  openly  sacrilegious  com- 
 munion, eat  and  drank  his  own  judgment  and 
 condemnation,  braving  at  once  the  indignation 
 of  Earth  and  the  thunders  of  Heaven.  Unheard- 
 of  outrage,  and  as  yet  unexampled  in  history ! 
 Profanation  so  afflicting,  that  we  scarcely  know 
 whether  it  be  useful  or  dangerous  to  publish  it; 
 whether  it  would  not  have  been  better,  perhaps, 
 to  deprive  us  of  the  terrible  lesson  it  affords, 
 than  to  signalize  too  strongly  the  frightful  scan- 
 dal it  has  produced.  And  how  much  does  not 
 our  sorrow  augment  when  we  reflect  that  so 
 criminal  an  outrage  may  rest  unpunished;  or 
 that,  if  it  be  followed  by  a  legal  punishment,  the 
 
(  3/..2  ) 
 
 penalty,  by  its  insufficiency,  can  only  become  a 
 new  scandal.  (1) 
 
 May  then  our  new  Legislators,  and  truly 
 worthy  of  this  name,  still  more  and  more 
 purify  our  Code  from  so  many  sad  concessions 
 made  to  impietj,  from  so  many  afflicting  stains 
 stamped  on  it  by  the  spirit  of  the  age!  May 
 they  be  more  and  more  deeply  penetrated  with 
 this  truth,  that  every  blow  levelled  against  our 
 Altars  re-echoes  in  the  very  foundations  of 
 society;  that  Religion  must,  under  pain  of 
 death,  reassume  all  her  empire  on  the  minds 
 of  the  people  ;  and  that  every  State,  blind 
 enough  to  efface  it  from  the  book  of  the  law, 
 will  soon,  by  an  irrevocable  decree,  be  itself 
 blotted  out  of  the  Book  of  Life. 
 
 (1)  The  unfortunate  young  man  in  question  formed  the 
 design,  on  Christmas  Eve,  of  going  to  communion  in  his 
 Parish  Church  at  midnight  mass,  merely  for  the  horrible 
 pleasure  of  profaning  the  Blessed  Sacrament.  After  which 
 he  immediately  returned  among  his  libertine  companions 
 to  enjoy  publicly  his  monstrous  triumph.  We  spare  our 
 Readers  certain  details,  too  afflicting  to  be  read,  and  pei'- 
 haps  to  be  believed.  The  culprit  is  at  this  moment  in  the 
 prison  of  Troyes,  Avaiting  to  be  judged  at  the  Assizes. 
 We  cannot  here  too  highly  applaud  the  truly  religious  zeal 
 manifested  on  this  occasion  by  the  local  authorities  of 
 Arcys-sur-Aubc. 
 
(  343  ) 
 
 Here  follow  almost  the  same  Ordinances  as 
 those  we  have  already  noticed. 
 
 Done  at  Trojes,  under  the  seal  of  our  arms, 
 and  the  countersign  of  our  Secretary,  Feb.  19, 
 1822. 
 
 ■f  Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes, 
 Elected  Archbishop  of  Vienne. 
 
 By  Order, 
 
 Constant  Migneaux^  Canon  Secretary. 
 
(  ^4-''  ) 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTION 
 
 On  the  excellence  and  utility  of  the  Missions^   consi- 
 dered in  the  order  of  Religion  and  the  State. 
 
 Stephen  Anthony  de  Doulogne,  etc. 
 
 We  have  occasionally  entertained  ourselves 
 with  you,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  on  the 
 great  utility  of  Missionary  Priests,  and  in  par- 
 ticular on  the  progressive  success  of  those  who 
 still  devote  themselves  to  llie  service  of  our 
 Diocess.  (1)  We  have  often  refuted  the  re- 
 proaches made  iheui  hy  bad  faith,  and  the 
 charges,  no  less  absurd  than  atrocious,  con- 
 tinually thrown  out  against  them,   with  an  in- 
 
 (1)  The  Missionaries  of  the  Religious  Congregation  of 
 the  Most  Sacred  Hearts  of  Jesus  and  Mary,  conducted  by 
 M.  L'Abbe  Coudrin,  Superior  General. 
 
(  345  ) 
 
 credible  obstinacy,  by  those  men  who  will 
 tolerate  no  JMissionaries,  because  they  no  longer 
 wish  to  tolerate  the  Religion  of  the  Apostles. 
 "We  should  now,  indeed,  have  abstained  from 
 treating  this  subject  anew,  however  great  its 
 importance,  if  the  need  We  have  of  those  Ve- 
 nerable Men  did  not  become  every  day  more 
 urgent,  and  their  utility  more  sensible;  if  the 
 rage  of  impiety  against  them  did  not  impose  upon 
 Us  the  duty  of  opposing  a  new  defence  to  new 
 attacks,  and,  to  shameless  calumnies,  unan- 
 swerable replies. 
 
 And  who  amongst  you,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  that  does  not  know  this  system  of 
 persecution,  framed  with  so  much  art  by  all 
 those  enemies  of  virtue,  who  have  received 
 from  Hell  the  mission  of  destroying  all,  and  to 
 whom  Heaven,  in  order  to  punish  them,  has 
 left  no  other  power?  Who  that  does  not  know, 
 in  particular,  what  shameful  violence  has  been 
 offered,  in  the  face  of  the  Capital,  to  those 
 Champions  of  the  Holy  Word  of  God,  by  the 
 reprobate  Children  of  Philosophy  and  the  Sol- 
 diers of  Impiety?  And,  since  We  must  speak 
 out,  w^ho  that  has  not  heard  those  Legislators 
 unworthy  of  the  name,  the  Declaimers  of  our 
 Rostrum,  justify  such  excesses,  and  thus  pro- 
 fane the  Temple   of  our  Laws  by  their  bias- 
 
(  346  ) 
 
 phemies,  whilst  the  Disciples  of  their  School 
 were  profaning-  the  Temples  of  God  by  their 
 sacrilegious  outrages?  Scandal  truly  dolorous 
 for  the  friends  of  Religion  and  France,  but  which 
 will  not  the  less  turn  to  the  glory  of  our  Mis- 
 sionaries, and  to  the  shame  of  their  persecutors ; 
 Providence  having- permitted  it,  in  order  still  more 
 to  uncover  their  criminal  intentions,  to  betray 
 their  perfidious  designs,  to  blast  for  ever  this 
 hypocritical  toleration  which  they  reserve  for 
 themselves  only,  and  show  us  v^^hat  lot  should 
 await  Religion  and  her  Ministers,  if  those  men 
 became  our  masters. 
 
 Upon  the  slightest  reflection,  Our  Dearly  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  it  will  not  be  diflicult  to  per- 
 suade ourselves,  that  nothing-  is  more  sacred 
 than  the  Missions,  that  their  very  name  is  their 
 surest  defence,  as  their  success  is  their  best  eu- 
 logy. It  is,  indeed,  of  them  we  can  say,  as  of 
 the  Works  of  the  Lord,  that  thej  are  justified 
 hy  themselves .  (1)  To  attack  them  is  to  attack 
 Religion  in  its  principle,  as  Religion  is  nothing 
 else,  in  its  principle,  but  one  great  and  subsist- 
 ing Mission.  It  is  the  Heavenly  Father  who 
 sends  his  Son ;  it  is  the  Son  who  sends  his 
 Apostles;    the  Apostles  send  their   Successors, 
 
 (1)  Ps.  XVIII,   10. 
 
(  34T  ) 
 
 and  their  Successors  are  sent  by  the  Church. 
 Admirable  chain,  in  which  every  thing  holds, 
 and  each  part  acts  with  the  strength  of  the 
 whole;  {\)  wherein  the  whole  is  so  linked  to- 
 gether, and  forms  so  perfect,  so  compact  a 
 bodj,  that  it  presents  no  vacancy,  and  cannot 
 be  broached  on  any  side !  Error  may,  indeed, 
 go  forth,  and  schism  detach  itself  from  it,  as  we 
 have  but  too  often  witnessed  j  but  neither  error 
 nor  schism  can  ever  enter  into  it.  Truly  divine 
 economy,  which  renders,  at  once,  the  doctrine 
 invariable,  and  the  teaching  uniform,  and  the 
 authority  irrefragable,  and  the  ministry  grand, 
 and  the  Word  all  powerful!  The  Apostles  of 
 Reason  and  the  Teachers  of  the  Age  have  no 
 Mission,  or  only  hold  it  of  themselves ;  it  is  their 
 private  spirit  which  makes  all  their  law,  and 
 their  caprice  all  their  rule.  Whence  do  they 
 come,  and  on  whose  part  do  they  speak?  They 
 teach  by  their  own  commission  only;  and  then 
 where  is  the  obligation  that  we  should  hear 
 them?  What  have  we  to  do  with  their  counsels? 
 Still  less  have  we  to  do  with  their  precepts. 
 They  deal  in  morality — why  do  they  not  keep 
 it  for  themselves?  They  wish  us  to  believe 
 them  'j  let  them  begin  by  proving  that  they  be- 
 
 (1)  Bossuet,  Scrm.  on  the  Unity  of  the  Church. 
 
(  3/.8  ) 
 
 lieve  ibemselves.  Who  can  assure  us,  thai  it  is 
 neither  the  spirit  of  pride  that  intoxicates  them, 
 nor  the  spirit  of  partj  that  blinds,  nor  the  spirit 
 of  lies  that  possesses  them  ?  And  if  they  have 
 their  reason,  or  their  opinion,  has  not  every  one, 
 beside,  bis  own?  It  is  not  so  with  tbe  sent,  or, 
 to  speak  with  St.  Paul,  with  the  Ambassadors  of 
 Christy  (1)  commissioned  to  announce  the  Word 
 of  God  in  the  name  of  Him  who  is  the  Word  it- 
 self, and,  consequently,  invested  with  the  in- 
 contestible  right  of  teaching-,  and  the  right,  not 
 less  sacred,  of  being  heard.  August  investiture, 
 derived  from  the  first  Pastors,  Missionaries  by 
 excellence,  to  whom  it  has  been  said  :  Go  and 
 teach  all  nations,  and  behold  I  am  with  joii  to 
 the  consummation  of  time.  (2)  Tliere  shall  then 
 be  Missions  as  long  as  time  subsists,  and  they 
 shall  last  as  long  as  the  world  for  its  ha])piness 
 and  its  instruction.  The  Annals  of  the  Church 
 present  to  us  nothing"  grander  and  more  magni- 
 ficent than  the  recital  of  those  Apostolic  con- 
 quests, whicli  still  happily  furnish  the  fairest 
 pages  of  her  history.  They  flourish  from  age 
 to  age,  for  the  triumpli  of  truth  j  and,  whether 
 borne  to  the  most  distant  climates,  they  succour 
 the  barbarian  and  the  infidel,  bringing  xhtm  the 
 
 (1)  II.  Cor.  V,  20.  (2)  Matth.  XXVIII,  20. 
 
(  349  ) 
 
 good  tidings,  and  announcing  to  them  peace  and 
 happiness  on  the  mountaimj  (1)  or,  confined  to 
 the  interior  of  our  Churches,  they  devote  them- 
 selves to  the  salvation  of  the  Christian  people ; 
 we  still  behold  them  worthy  of  themselves  and 
 of  their  origin,  still  worthy  of  our  admiration 
 and  Our  gratitude. 
 
 And,  first,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  if 
 we  consider  them  abroad,  what  prodigies  of 
 comparative  grandeur  does  not  each  of  them 
 offer  to  our  view  !  What  miracles  of  intelli- 
 gence, of  virtue,  and  of  zeal  I  What  subjects 
 of  edification  for  our  piety,  and  of  meditation 
 for  the  wise!  What  objects  better  calculated  to 
 elevate  the  soul  and  teach  the  heart  I  Who  then 
 are  those  Men,  who  Jlj  like  the  clouds  (2)  to 
 shed  the  morning  dew  of  the  Gospel  on  those 
 dark  regions  seated  in  the  shades  of  death? 
 Where  have  they  found  this  courage — how  dis- 
 covered this  secret?  And  what  is  it  that  most 
 transports  them,  the  zeal  of  truth,  or  the  fire  of 
 charity,  or  the  love  of  God,  or  that  of  man- 
 kind? To  explain  the  mystery  of  human  civiliza- 
 tion, fabled  antiquity  could  find  no  better  means 
 than  to  invent  an  Orpheus  enchanting  the  forests, 
 and  assuaging  the  monsters  by  the  harmony  of 
 
 (1)  Nahum,  I,  2.  (2^  Isai.  XL,  8. 
 
(  350  ) 
 
 his  lyre  and  the  charms  of  his  voice,  still  greater, 
 in  fact,  than  this  fantastic  God  was,  in  fable.  Our 
 Missionaries  have  humanized  tigers,  and  tamed 
 ferocity  itself,  by  the  unaided  charms  of  their 
 virtues  and  the  ascendency  of  their  example. 
 Since  the  preaching  of  the  Apostles  who  con- 
 verted the  old  world — since  the  Mission  of  the 
 Great  Paul  who  announced  the  unknown  God, 
 made  the  Areopagus  tremble,  and  humbled  the 
 Majesty  of  the  Roman  Fasces  (1) — none  more 
 admirable  has  existed  than  that  of  the  Illustrious 
 Xavier.  Without  any  other  treasure  than  his 
 poverty,  or  any  other  aid  than  his  patience,  any 
 other  arms  than  the  Gross,  he  extended  still 
 further  the  Kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ,  than  Alexan- 
 der, with  the  thunder  in  hand,  enlarged  the 
 limits  of  his  own  empire. 
 
 What  then  are  those  extraordinary  stars,  which 
 hound  like  Giants  who  pursue  their  course  P 
 Who  are  those  new  Conquerors,  before  whom 
 the  mountains  sink,  the  vallies  are  filled,  the 
 abysses  close,  and  the  astonis-hed  ocean  is  hushed 
 into  tranquillity?  They  speak,  and,  at  their 
 voice,  the  islands  come  running  from  afar,  ('2) 
 the  barbarian  submits,  the  idols  fall,  the  temples 
 
 (1)  Bossuet,  Paneg.  of  Saint  Paul. 
 
 (2)  Isai.  LXVI,  19. 
 
(  351  ) 
 
 of  superstition  crumble,   and  on  iheir  profane 
 ruins  arises  a  new  Jerusalem ,  brilliant  with  lights 
 and  virtues,  and  recalling  the  fairest  days  of  the 
 primitive  Church.     What  more  worthy  of  the 
 homages  of  the  Earth  and  the  looks  of  Heaven, 
 than  those  Evangelical  Heroes,   who,  not  less 
 intrepid  than  disinterested,  renounce  all  the  ties 
 of  blood   and  friendship,  all  the  charms  of  life, 
 all  the  hopes  of  fortune,  nay,  even  the  love  of 
 country,  in  order  to  fly  beyond  the  seas,  and 
 bear,  at  the  peril  of  their  lives,  to  the  extremity 
 of  the  world,  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God? 
 Who    can    conceive   how,    notwithstanding    so 
 man  J   obstacles,    contradictions,    and  dangers; 
 notwithstanding   the    inclemencies  of    climate, 
 the  distance  of  place,  the  difference  of  manners, 
 and  of  language ;   notwithstanding  all  the  most 
 insurmountable  passijOns,  habits,  and  prejudices, 
 they  have  been  able  to  realize  such  enterprises, 
 to  enlighten  new  worlds,  and  inundate  with  the 
 torrents   of   grace   the    remains    of    infidelity? 
 What  other  Religion,  than  that  of  the  Gospel, 
 can  boast  of  such  triumphs?     W^hat  unknown 
 power  has  then  performed  those  miracles?   And 
 who  can  here  refuse  to  acknowledge  the  strength 
 of  truth,  or  the  virtue  of  this  Cross  which  is  to 
 draw  all  to  itself,  or  the  ineffable  power  which 
 spoke,  and  light  was,  which  said  to  the  North 
 
(  352  ) 
 
 and  to  the  South,  give  me  children,  and  the 
 South  and  the  North  gave  them  ?  (1 ) 
 
 But,  in  order  to  be  well  acquainted  with  their 
 means  and  their  motives,  we  must  hear  them- 
 selves:— 
 
 ^'  Experience  but  too  well  proves,  that  the 
 "  conversions  efFected  by  human  means  are  only 
 *'  feigned  and  apparent,  or,  at  best,  imperfect 
 *'  and  inconstant.  The  first  storm  raised  against 
 *'  Religion  uprooted  and  bore  away  all  that 
 **  human  industry  had  sown  in  various  countries. 
 "  These  plants  had  not  been  put  down  by  the 
 "  hand  of  God ;  so  have  they  been  deracinated 
 *'  and  cast  out  of  the  field  of  the  Lord?  Let  us 
 '^  then  undeceive  ourselves,  and  be  convinced 
 '^  by  this  sad  experience^  that  we  shall  not  dis- 
 "  abuse  men  of  ostentaUon  by  ostentation,  of 
 ^'  luxury  by  luxury,  of  riches  by  riches,  of  pro- 
 ^'  digality  by  splendid  luxury,  nor  of  the  love 
 ''  of  the  world  by  the  attachments  which  are 
 *'  therein  contracted.  But  that  we  can  destroy 
 *'  ostentation  by  humility  j  the  love  of  riches  by 
 ^^  poverty;  the  delicacies  of  life  by  sobriety  and 
 ^^  abstinence;  the  love  of  pleasures  by  mortifi- 
 *'  cation;  all  the  vices  which  reign  in  the  world 
 "  by   the   flight  and  contempt  of  the  world. 
 
 (1)  Isai.  XLIII,  6. 
 
(  353  ) 
 
 "  Jesus  Christ  wished  to  ransom  mankind  bj  the 
 "  Cross ;  he  wishes  to  convert  them  bj  the 
 ''  Ministry  of  those,  who  accomplish  in  them- 
 "  selves,  what  is  wanting  to  his  passion.  His 
 ^'  Apostles  carried  neither  gold,  nor  silver,  nor 
 "  various  garments,  norsandals:  poor,  despised, 
 "  persecuted,  they  have  converted  the  world. 
 "  We  preach  the  same  Gospel;  we  should  hold 
 "  the  same  line  of  conduct.  We  combat  the 
 "  same  errors,  and  the  same  vices ;  we  cannot 
 "  triumph  but  by  the  same  arms."  (1) 
 
 Who  are  those  men,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, who  hold  this  language?  Are  they  mortals 
 or  angels?  Whence  have  they  borrowed  this 
 style,  and  this  morality,  and  this  unheard-of  plan 
 of  life,  and  this  heart  still  greater  than  the  world? 
 Shall  we  be  told,  that  this  is  ambition  or  pride, 
 the  love  of  rule,  or  fanaticism?  Would  we  not 
 be  more  barbarou.s-  than  the  barbarians  them- 
 selves, if  we  could  here  see  any  thing  else  but 
 the  hig-hest  de^-ree  of  self-denial  and  of  human 
 heroism  ? 
 
 It  is  then  with  these  supernatural  arms  and 
 means  that  our  Missionaries  have  succeeded  in 
 consolidating,  in  the  field  of  the  Lord,  those 
 great  and  beautiful  plantations,  which  no  storm 
 
 (1)  Hist,  of  the  Estab.  of  Christ,  in  the  East-Indies. 
 
 z 
 
(  354  ) 
 
 could  ei>er  uproot.  It  is  by  this  divine  iiitlnstry 
 that  they  have   found    the  secret  of  chanffina; 
 
 •'  DO 
 
 wolves  into  sheep,  and  that,  more  powerful 
 llian  Moses,  they  have  drawn,  not  water  from 
 the  rock,  but  light  from  darkness,  and  life  from 
 the  tombs  ;  new  proof  of  the  power  of  this  holy 
 Religion,  established  for  man  but  not  by  man. 
 Before  they  came,  we  knew  well  that  Religion 
 alone  can  uphold  society,  and  that,  to  form  a 
 State  without  its  aid,  is  to  build  in  the  air.  But 
 those  admirable  establishments,  founded  by  it 
 in  the  bosom  of  barbarity,  and  governed,  during 
 so  long  a  period,  by  the  single  influence  of 
 morals,  conscience,  and  the  inspirations  of  the 
 Divine  Word,  have  taught  us,  what  we  did  not 
 till  then  sufficiently  know,  that  a  State  may  be 
 polished  by  Religion  only,  without  the  concur- 
 rence of  human  laws;  that  Religion,  properly 
 speaking,  is  the  only  law  that  has  no  need  of 
 others;  that  itself  is  all;  that  without  it  nothing 
 can  live  in  the  moral  order,  as  without  respira- 
 tion nothing  lives  in  the  animated  reign  ;  and 
 that,  drawing  all  from  its  own  strength,  it  needs 
 only  its  own  light  and  its  own  arm  to  vivify  and 
 maintain  it. 
 
 Would  we  not.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Bre- 
 thren, betray  the  glory  of  the  Missions,  the 
 theme  we  have  undertaken,  and  your  hopes, 
 
(^55) 
 
 if  we  here  forgot  those  magnanimous  marljrs  of 
 truth,  those  immortal  lieroes  of  the  Gospel,  who 
 have  surpassed  all  others  hy  their  talents  and 
 their  success;  those  men  eminently  useful,  of 
 whom  Fenelon  was  the  friend,  (1 )  whose  pre- 
 sen'ation  he  demanded  of  Heaven  (2)  in  the 
 chair  of  truth;  of  whom  Bossuet  said,  that  it  is 
 not  in  vain  that  they  bear  the  name  of  Jesus;  (3) 
 and  whom  the  Holy  PontifF,  Pius  VII,  calls  the 
 strong  rowers  of  St.  Peter  s  bark?  (4)  Could  we 
 here  refrain  from  presenting  to  your  admiration 
 and  gratitude  those  immortal  men,  whose  ser- 
 vices may,  indeed,  be  disowned,  but  whose 
 memory  can  never  be  tarnished;  whose  de- 
 struction saddened  the  whole  Church,  and  whose 
 re-establishment  the  whole  Church  witnesses 
 with  joy;  whose  name  shall  live  as  long  as  the 
 two  worlds  they  have  enlightened  with  the  rays 
 of  the  Gospel,  and  whose  glory  is  as  indelible 
 as  our  shame  and  our  ingratitude?  What  con- 
 quests! what  prodigies  have  gone  forth  from 
 their  hands!  Ah!  yes,  mdij  my  tongue  cleave  to 
 nif  palate,  rather  than  to  pass  by  in  silence  things 
 so   honourable    to   piety,    so   glorious    for   the 
 
 (1)  Hist,  of  Fen.  by  the  Card,  de  Bausset. 
 
 (2)  Fen.  Sermon  Epiph. 
 
 (3)  Bos.  Sermon  on  the  Nat.  of  Jesus. 
 (A)  Tins  VII.  Bull,  August  7, 181A. 
 
 z* 
 
(  35C  ) 
 
 Church !  Alas !  what  is  become  of  so  many 
 monuments  of  their  zeal,  in  which  Genius  vied 
 with  Virtue  ?  To  speak  of  one  only,  as  we  cannot 
 speak  of  so  many  others,  what  is  become  of  this 
 i>ast  country,  which,  (1)  according  to  the  most 
 famous  leader  of  the  impious  sect,  thej  had 
 succeeded  in  governing,  as  in  Europe  tJicj 
 govern  a  convent,  (2)  so  well  did  it  present  the 
 image  of  peace,  order,  and  happiness?  Alas ! 
 this  beautiful  work,  which  he  again  called  the 
 triumph  of  humanitj ,  this  sublime  creation,  this 
 miraculous  colony,  come  out,  as  it  were,  of  no- 
 thing, has  disappeared  with  the  heroes  who  had 
 brought  it  to  this  high  pitch  of  perfection,  and 
 this  convent  is  now  almost  no  longer  but  the 
 repair  of  savages,  gone  back,  for  want  of 
 guides  and  fathers,  to  their  first  habits;  and  the 
 convents  of  those,  who  had  founded  this  one, 
 have  been  demolished;  and  those,  who  had 
 opened  so  many  asylums  to  the  wandering 
 hordes,  have  been  seen  wandering  without 
 country,  without  bread,  without  an  asylum;  and 
 those  same  men,  who  had  softened  the  bar- 
 barians of  the  new  w^orld,  have  been  devoured 
 by  the  Philanthropists  of  the  old.    And  those 
 
 (1)  Paraguay. 
 
 (2)  Letter  to  the  King  of  Prussia,  Nov.  10,  1769. 
 
(  357  ) 
 
 Aposlles,  who  had  watered  with  their  sweat, 
 and  even  with  their  blood,  so  many  immense 
 deserts,  have  received,  for  the  only  recompense 
 of  such  noble  devoledness,  a  general  proscrip- 
 tion, a  condemnation  without  judgment,  or  a 
 judgment  without  trial.  And  the  Philosophers 
 have  rejoiced  in  seeing  thus  treated  those  men, 
 who,  not  satisfied  with  having  established  con- 
 vents amongst  the  Indians,  and  churches  amongst 
 the  Chinese,  had  still  the  ambition  of  founding 
 colleges  amongst  the  Christians.  And  they  have 
 told  their  children  to  rejoice  at  no  longer  having 
 for  preceptors  those  men,  who  had  so  religiously 
 educated  their  fathers.  And  the  fathers  have 
 been  despised  by  their  children.  And  the  age, 
 in  which  was  committed  this  great  crime  against 
 policy,  humanity,  and  justice,  has  not  the  less 
 sliled  itself  the  Age  of  Reason,  and  has  only  the 
 more  loudly  spoken  of  the  progress  of  its  lights/ 
 and,  in  the  train  of  this  progression,  all  the  re- 
 volutionary winds  have  blown,  public  educa- 
 tion has  perished,  the  youth  are  become  savage, 
 the  pulpits  dumb,  the  throne  has  crumbled  with 
 the  altar,  and  France  no  longer  presented  but  a 
 shade  of  herself,  regretting  the  past,  weeping 
 over  the  present,  and  trembling  for  the  future. 
 Peiverse  and  adulterous  Nation,   art  thou  not 
 
(  358  ) 
 
 then  sufficiently  punished?    -And  tvhence  comes 
 thy  ruin,  if  it  be  not  from  thyself?  (i ) 
 
 And  is  not  this  the  place,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  to  demand  of  our  zealous  partisans  of 
 humanity  and  civilization,  why  they  have  not  as 
 yet  undertaken  to  execute,  in  favour  of  science 
 and  philosophy,  what  our  Missionaries  have 
 done  in  favour  of  the  faith  and  of  the  interests 
 of  Christianity?  Why  have  they  never  had  the 
 amhition  to  succeed  them  amongst  the  savages, 
 in  order  to  make  them  good  reasoners,  as  our 
 Apostles  had  made  them  good  Christians? 
 Why  do  we  not  find  amongst  them  that  same 
 zeal  for  the  propagation  of  reason  and  lights, 
 without  which,  they  tell  us,  the  people  cannot 
 be  happy  ?  Why  do  not  those  men,  so  zealous 
 for  the  cultivation  of  the  mind,  and  so  hot  with 
 philanthropy,  set  out  and  carry  both  one  and 
 the  other  to  the  extremities  of  the  world! 
 Why,  instead  of  working  and  tormenting  the 
 old  people  of  Europe,  now  rusted^  as  they  say 
 it,  with  -prejudices  and  superstitions,  why  do  not 
 they  go  amongst  the  savages,  to  cultivate  tliis 
 virgin-soil,  where  prejudices  and  superstition 
 have  never  taken  root,  and  which  is,    conse- 
 
 (1)  Osc.  XIII,  \). 
 
(  359  ) 
 
 quenlly,  beller  calculated  to  receive  the  pre- 
 cious seeds  of  philosophy?  Why,  instead  of 
 exciting  the  nations  against  the  established  go- 
 vernments, do  not  they  found  them  in  those 
 countries  where  they  do  not  exist,  and  thus, 
 without  any  effusion  of  blood,  without  any 
 violent  commotion,  without  any  spoliation  of 
 the  neighbours'  property,  sow  the  Rights  of  Man 
 amongst  those  barbarous  clans,  make  them  re- 
 nounce their  false  Gods,  in  order  to  embrace 
 pure  reason,  and  plant  in  its  native  beauty  the 
 Tree  of  Liberty?  What  honour  would  not 
 thence  accrue  to  their  sublime  theories?  What 
 glory  for  their  Apostleship,  and  what  a  tri- 
 umph for  the  New  Gospel,  if,  by  dint  of  labour 
 and  sacrifices,  they  should  ever  succeed  in  es- 
 tablishing, amongst  the  Talapoins  and  Illinois, 
 as  many  lyceums  as  the  children  of  Ignatius,  of 
 Dominick,  and  Francis  founded  Christian  com- 
 munities? Would  not  this  rivalry  of  labour, 
 of  preaching  and  of  conquests,  be  the  best 
 means  of  enfeebling  the  victorious  argument  we 
 draw,  in  favour  of  Religion,  from  the  great  suc- 
 cess of  our  Apostles  and  from  the  blood  of  our 
 Martyrs? 
 
 This  was  the  argument  which  most  embar- 
 rassed the  Patriarch  of  the  Free-thinkers;  and 
 we  find  in  his  correspondence  all  that  his  spirit 
 
(  3G0  ) 
 
 of  ambilion  and  anti-religious  proselylism  would 
 have  undertaken  for  the  advancement  of  the 
 great  work,  and  the  propagation  of  the  new  Re- 
 ligion of  reason.     He  also  wished  to  have  mis- 
 sions after  his  own  fashion,  and  he  had  chosen 
 for  the  theatre  of  his  zeal  that  part  of  Germany, 
 where  the  lUuminees    and  other  Seers    or  Vi- 
 sionaries of  this  sort  most  abound.    But  he  never 
 found  amongst  them  but  lukewarm  souls,  as  he 
 called  them,  little  disposed  to  sacrifice  for  that 
 purpose  their  ease  and  pleasures.     It  was  this 
 that  prompted  him  to  say,  tliat  he  was  tempted 
 to  believe  that  reason  was  good  for  nothing  • 
 sad    truth,    and    so    well    proved    by   himself. 
 Hence  it  is  easy  to  conclude,  that  if  reason  was 
 good  for  nothing  with  regard  to  such  easy  mis- 
 sions, whose  only  object  was  to  diffuse  the  great 
 principles  amongst    the    neighbouring   people, 
 without  risk  of  life  or  even  of  repose,  how  luke- 
 warm would  it  not  prove,  when  there  would  be 
 question  of  transporting  them  beyond  the  seas, 
 across  the  ices  of  the  North,   or  the  parching 
 heats  of  the  South? 
 
 But,  if  the  philosophers  are  incapable  of  civi- 
 lizing the  barbarous  nations,  if  they  have  hitherto 
 proved  that  they  had  neither  the  talent  nor  the 
 courage  requisite  for  it,  they  arc  at  least  well 
 calculated  to  barbarise  the  nations  already  po- 
 
(  361   ) 
 
 Jished.  And  wlio,  wilhout  feeling  the  most 
 lively  sorrow,  can  cast  a  look  on  those  iinfor- 
 lunale  countries,  which,  after  having  been 
 humanized,  civilized,  purified,  and  sanctified  by 
 our  Missionaries,  at  the  expense  of  so  much  pains 
 and  such  accumulated  labours,  are  at  this  day 
 a  prey  to  all  the  horrors  of  revolutions,  and 
 ravaged  by  the  soldiers  of  philosophy,  whose 
 double  mission  is  to  upturn  the  earth  and  people 
 hell?  What  more  dolorous  spectacle!  The 
 sovereignty  of  God,  replaced  by  that  of  the 
 people — legitimacy,  by  the  law  of  force  —  the 
 parching  wind  of  impiety  drying  up  those  happy 
 lands,  which  had  been  so  softly  fertilized  by 
 the  dew  of  the  Gospel — the  savage  cry  of  in- 
 dependence succeeding  to  the  holy  canticles  of 
 Sion — all  those  fire-brand  heroes,  bringing 
 back  desolation  and  death  where  our  generous 
 Evangelists  had  carried  resurrection  and  life, 
 hoisting  on  their  homicidal  lances  a  rebellious 
 charter  stained  with  blood,  and  in  their  strange 
 fanaticism  speaking  only  of  lights,  and  creating 
 around  them  nothing  but  chaos  :  like  the  fabled 
 hero,  who,  in  attempting  to  conduct  the  chariot 
 of  the  sun,  set  fire  to  the  universe. 
 
 Thus  remains  it  proved  that  reason,  without 
 Religion,  is  good  for  nothing,  if  it  be  not  for 
 digging  abysses  and  heaping  tombs  on  tombs ; 
 
(302  ) 
 
 and  thai,  if  an  ancient  called  the  philosophers  of 
 his  da/,  gatherers  of  clouds,  we  may  call  those 
 of  our  days  gatherers  of  ruins,  working  evil 
 wherever  they  prevail,  as  our  Missionaries  do 
 good  wherever  they  pass  :  thus  verifying  this 
 saying,  or  awful  sentence  of  Eternal  Truth,  that, 
 wherever  the  impious  reign,  there  is  to  be  found 
 the  misfortune  of  states  and  the  ruin  of  nations : 
 regnantihus  impiis,  ruinahominum.  (1) 
 
 What  then  must  we  think  of  this  unparal- 
 leled sophist,  who  has  dared  to  tell  us,  that  the 
 Missionaries  appear  to  him  scarcely  wiser  than 
 the  conquerors  P  (2)  Singular  idea,  even  though 
 it  were  not  impious,  and  as  devoid  of  good  sense 
 as  of  good  faith,  whence  we  should  conclude, 
 that  tliose  who  enlighten  and  humanize  the  na- 
 tions, are  scarcely  wiser  than  those  who  depo- 
 pulate them  J  that  between  the  conquerors,  who 
 massacred  the  inhabitants  of  the  new  world  and 
 only  sought  to  subdue  them  by  lire  and  sword, 
 and  the  Priests,  who  only  sought  to  gain  them  by 
 persuasion  and  the  sweet  effusions  of  charity, 
 there  was  scarcely  any  difference ;  and  that,  in 
 a  word,  those  pretended  heroes,  who  ordered 
 them  to  be  slaughtered,    were   scarcely  more 
 
 (1)  Prov.  XXVllI,  12. 
 
 (2)  Rousseau  judge  of  Jean  Jacques. 
 
(  303  ) 
 
 blameworlhy  in  the  eyes  of  posterity,  than  the 
 holy  Ministers,  who,  in  favour  of  the  Indians, 
 loudly  appealed  against  their  oppressors  to  the 
 ric»-hls  of  humanity  :  reasoning  truly  worthy  of 
 him,  who  had  been  chosen  as  their  patron  by 
 the  Missionaries  of  an  Anti-christian  revolution, 
 by  the  Missionaries  oi  fralernity  and  death,  and 
 all  those  bloody  propagandists,  who,  far  from 
 being  scarcely  wiser  than  the  conquerors,  have 
 surpassed  ihem  in  their  devastations,  and  have 
 more  cruelly  ravaged  France  than  the  Huns  and 
 Vandals. 
 
 Besides,  conquerors  make  for  themselves  as 
 many  enemies  as  they  subdue  ;  the  Missionaries 
 as  many  friends  and  brothers  as  they  reclaim 
 and  convert.  The  enemies  conquered  by  force 
 of  arms  blush  at  their  defeat  and  burn  to 
 avenge  it;  the  converts  of  grace  and  of  the  Di- 
 vine Word  glory  in  their  submission  and  tri- 
 umph in  their  fall.  It  is  here  indeed  we  can 
 say,  that  the  crown  belongs  to  the  vanquished. 
 In  fine,  the  conquerors  of  the  world  triumph 
 only  for  themselves,  and  for  this  fleeting  vapour 
 they  call  glory;  the  conquerors  of  the  faith  for 
 God  and  for  virtue.  What  an  immense  distance 
 between  them  I  And  who  but  a  dreamer  could 
 have  said,  that  the  Missionaries  appear  to  hint 
 scarcely  wiser  than  the  conquerors  P 
 
(  36/.  ) 
 
 But  another  patron  of  the  sect,  the  rival  of 
 this  latter  in  sophistry  and  lies,  is  at  least  wiser 
 than  he  is,  when  he  tells  us  that  the  pains  and 
 fatigues  of  the  Missionaries  have  equalled  those 
 of  the  conquerors  of  the  New  World  -,  when  he 
 informs  us,  on  this  occasion,  thai  the  courage  of 
 Religion  is  as  great  as  the  courage  of  our  war- 
 riors :  (1  )  comparison  lessshockmg  but  not  more 
 just.  And  indeed,  what  resemblance  can  exist 
 between  the  courage  of  those,  whose  whole 
 strength  consisted  in  their  arms  ;  and  tlie  courage 
 of  those,  whose  whole  strength  is  centered  in 
 their  souls — between  the  fiery  ardor  of  some 
 ambitious  adventurers,  who  only  exposed  life  for 
 fortune,  only  sought  to  enrich  themselves  by  wad- 
 ing through  torrents  of  blood;  and  the  zeal,  as 
 calm  as  it  is  pure,  of  those  heavenly  men,  whose 
 views  are  as  elevated  as  their  means  are  ad- 
 mirable? Can  we  not  then  say  with  truth,  that 
 these  two  kinds  of  courage  can  be  no  more 
 compared  together,  than  tumultuous  rapine  to 
 heroism,  ferocity  to  humanity,  and  the  thirst  of 
 gold  to  that  of  the  world^s  happiness  ? 
 
 But,  whilst  impiety  disperses,  dissolves  and 
 deracinates,  Religion  plants  and  waters,  sows 
 and  gathers,  and,  like  her  Divine  Author,  edifies 
 
 (1)  lissai  sur  Ics  inoeurs. 
 
(  n63  ) 
 
 and  no  one  destroys.  Let  us  raise  our  eyes^  and 
 we  shall  behold  new  lights  piercing-  the  clouds 
 — new  creations  forming — new  churches  ap- 
 pearing ill  the  North — the  tents  of  Jacob  en- 
 larging and  extending  themselves  (1 )  even  in  the 
 bosom  of  an  empire  stranger  to  the  ancient 
 faith  (2)  —  truth  every  day  spreading  her  domi- 
 nion even  in  the  very  land  of  error,  and,  not- 
 withstanding the  misfortunes  of  the  times,  and 
 the  alarming  scarcity  of  Apostolic  labourers, 
 fountains  of  living  water  gushing  in  those  new 
 deserts,  in  order  to  prepare  the  richest  and  the 
 most  abundant  harvest. 
 
 Thus  the  Catholic  Churc  h  repairs  on  the  one 
 side  what  she  loses  on  the  other;  thus  is  daily 
 accomplishing  this  saying  of  the  Prophet:  from 
 the  South  to  the  North  the  name  of  the  Lord 
 shall  he  praised,  (3)  and,  thanks  to  our  Missions, 
 we  shall  behold  the  sun  of  faith  gloriously  con- 
 summate his  course.  Such  is  the  real  triumph 
 of  the  Catholic  Religion,  and  the  most  striking 
 proof  that  she  aloneis  Apostolic,  and  the  heiress 
 of  the  promises,  because  to  her  alone  belongs 
 the  convA^rting  power  and^he  reproductive  fa- 
 
 (1)  Isai.  LIV.  2. 
 
 (2)  The  United  States  and  North  America. 
 
 (3)  Psahii  CXII,  3. 
 
(  36G  ) 
 
 culty  ;  because  in  her  alone  we  discover  llie 
 quality  of  mother,  and  the  principle  of  fruitful- 
 ness  :  because  here  only  is  to  be  found  the  nou- 
 rishing juice,  the  primitive  sap,  this  living  trunk 
 of  Christianity,  detached  from  which  every 
 branch  languishes  and  dries  up  witliout  return  ; 
 like  the  barren  tree  no  longer  fit  but  to  be  cast 
 into  the  fire.  (1) 
 
 And  surely,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 this  vigour  of  Apostleship,  and  this  genius  of 
 zeal,  exclusive  appendage  of  the  Catholic 
 Church,  strikes  every  eye  with  such  evidence, 
 that  even  Our  Separated  Brethren  are  forced  to 
 acknowledge  it,  and  have  made  on  this  point 
 the  most  unequivocal  avowals.  (2)  We  behold 
 even  amongst  them  an  Illustrious  Scholar,  (and 
 he  is  not  the  onlj  one),  (3)  rendering  homage  to 
 this  immense  superiority  of  our  Missions  over  all 
 others,  when  he  teils  us  in  one  of  his  letters  : 
 ''  China  is  open  to  the  Missionaries  :  the  Pope 
 sends  a  great  number  there ;  but  the  little  union 
 that  exists  amonost  us  does  not  allow  us  to  under- 
 take  those  great  conversions  ;"  and  he  mighl, 
 perhaps, have  added,  our  little  order  and  zeal — 
 words  so  much  the  more  remarkable,  as  they 
 
 (1)  MaUh.  VII,  19. 
 
 (2)  Bacon,  de  angmentis  scicntiaruin. 
 
 (3)  Leibnitz. 
 
(  3GT  ) 
 
 cannot  be  suspected  in  llie  mouth  of  this  great 
 philosopher?  Now,  if  they  were  true  in  the 
 I^eginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  when  the 
 scliism  was  still  in  the  vigor  of  its  first  age,  how 
 much  more  weight  should  they  not  have  at  this 
 day,  when,  struck  to  the  very  heart's  core  by  the 
 philosophical  serpent  it  is  so  long  caressing,  it 
 has  fallen  into  a  state  of  consumptive  languor, 
 which  can  no  longer  be  for  it  but  a  more  or  less 
 protracted  agony? 
 
 We  hear  much  spoken  of  the  English  Mis- 
 sions, (1)  and  others  of  this  sort.     But  what  are 
 
 (1)  It  is  chiefly  within  these  twenty  years  that  certain 
 English  Missioners,  of  the  Anabaptist  Sect,  have  settled 
 in  the  East.  It  is  matter  of  notoriety  that  all  their  labours 
 are  limited  to  a  printing  office  destined  to  the  translation 
 of  Chinese  and  Indian  works  into  our  language,  or  of 
 English  books  into  that  of  the  country.  One  of  these 
 Sectaries  published  a  Chinese  version  of  the  New  Testa- 
 ment, and  this  is  the  greatest  effort  of  their  Apostolical 
 zeal,  as  it  appears  from  a  work  entitled  :  Review  of  the 
 first  ten  years  of  the  Protestant  Missions  in  China, printed 
 at  Malaga,  1820.  Notwithstanding  the  party  spirit  and 
 ruling  prejudices  of  the  author,  he  could  not  refrain  from 
 paying  a  just  homage  to  the  success  of  the  Catholic 
 Missioners,  and  their  vast  superiority  over  those  of  the 
 English  Church.  "The  learning,"  says  he,  ''the  per- 
 "  sonal  merits,  and  the  ardent  zeal  of  the  Roman  Mis- 
 "  sioners  deserve  to  be  imitated  by  all,  may  perhaps  be 
 '^  equalled  by  a  few,  but  can  never  be  surpassed  by  any." 
 
(  368  ) 
 
 thev,  even  lliougli  thej  were  worthy  of  this 
 name,  when  compared  with  our  Catholic  Mis- 
 sions ?  What  great  conversions  have  tliey  ever 
 undertaken?  What  altar  have  they  ever  raised 
 to  the  true  God?  What  infidel  country  have 
 they  ever  conquered  ?  And  what  then  is  their 
 result  for  the  salvation  of  souls  and  the  triumph 
 of  truth?  And  what  are  they  at  bottom  but 
 fiscal  and  financial  speculations,  wherein  the 
 mercantile  spirit  predominates,  and  of  which 
 policy  alone  bears  all  the  expenses  ?  What  are 
 they  but  merely  human  means  to  establish,  not 
 Missions,  but  counting  houses — not  churches, 
 but  colonies,  rather  to  form  sailors  or  husband- 
 men, than  fervent  neophytes,  or  true  Christians, 
 and  to  enlarge  still  more  the  British  Empire  than 
 the  Reign  of  Christ? 
 
 But  how  could  we,  even  for  a  single  moment, 
 compare  those  slender  conquests  of  reason,  and 
 all  those  cold  calculations  of  interest,  with  our 
 truly  Apostolic  Missions  wherein  every  thing  is 
 equally  grand  and  sublime,  both  the  spirit  which 
 directs  them,  and  the  motives  which  conduct 
 them,  and  the  means  they  employ,  and  the  sacri- 
 fices they  suppose,  and  the  brilliant  success  with 
 which  they  are  daily  crowned? 
 
 Let  us  then  unceasingly  repeat  it.  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  for  the  glory  of  the  Roman 
 
(  :m  ) 
 
 Church  ;  it  is  in  her  bosom  onij  that  the  Mis- 
 sions bear  fruit — in  her  unity  onlj  are  recruited 
 the  true  Champions  of  the  Gospel,  the  great 
 propagators  of  the  Christian  faith.  From  these 
 sacred  mountains  are  issued  all  the  orders  of  the 
 Master  of  the  harvest,  and  all  the  blessings  of 
 the  Common  Father  descend.  From  those  eter- 
 nal hills  flows  the  impetuous  river  of  truth  which 
 rejoices  the  city  of  God,  (1)  and  thence  spreads 
 and  diffuses  itself  through  the  four  quarters  of 
 the  world.  Take  away  the  chair  of  St.  Peter 
 — those  great  conversions  could  no  longer  be 
 undertaken:  take  away  Unity,  which  is  still 
 stronger  than  Union — We  would  behold  no 
 more  those  admirable  conquests,  which  daily 
 console  the  Church  for  the  losses  she  has  sus- 
 tained,  and  those  she   still  experiences. 
 
 But  there  is  another  still  more  fruitful  and 
 more  vivifying  principle  of  those  happy  enter- 
 prises and  those  great  miracles  of  grace  :  it  is 
 this  spirit  of  martyrdom,  which  animates  our 
 Catholic  Missionaries,  and  which  lives  only 
 amongst  them — it  is  this  heroic  devotedness  of 
 our  sj>iritual  workmen,  who  not  only  bear  the 
 burden  of  the  day  and  the  heat,  and  water  with 
 their  sweat  \\.\e  field  of  the  father  of  the  family, 
 
 (1)  Ps.  XLV,  5. 
 
 A  A 
 
(  370  ) 
 
 but  are  yel  readj,  as  daily  experience  proves,  lo 
 water  it  with  their  blood.  We  know  no  martyr 
 amongst  the  deserters  from  the  ancient  faith  ; 
 and  we  do  not  believe  we  shall  oflPend  them  by 
 sayings  that  they  never  had  any  pretensions  to 
 this  glory,  which  belongs  only  to  the  children  of 
 unity.  We  know  no  Illuminist,  no  Puritan,  no 
 Methodist,  no  hawker  of  Indian  Bibles,  (1)  that 
 ever  felt  himself  called  to  this  sublime  vocation, 
 or  whose  name  may  be  read  in  any  martyrology. 
 Thus  the  proof  drawn  from  the  martyrs  in  favour 
 of  Christianity  still  subsists,  and  this  perpetual 
 miracle  exclusively  belongs  to  the  Catholic 
 church.     Yes,  it  is  she  alone  that  brings  forth 
 
 (1)  The  Indian  Bibles  naturally  remind  us  of  those 
 Bible  Societies  now  so  widely  diffused  throughout  Europe. 
 Of  all  the  persecutions  of  the  Church,  this  is  the  most 
 perfidious  and  the  most  ably  combined — the  surest  means 
 of  undermining  the  Gospel  it  pretends  to  propagate, 
 ■whereas  this  Tariely  of  versions,  those  arbitrary  inter- 
 pretations, can  only  serve  to  render  the  articles  of  our 
 Faith  and  Christianity  itself  a  mere  problem.  The  Bible 
 Societies  have  the  same  origin  as  certain  other  secret  asso- 
 ciations, and  the  same  means  of  propagation  as  those  of 
 the  Illuminists.  To  the  same  source  may  we  trace  the 
 Lancasterian  and  other  systems  of  education.  And  hence 
 it  is  that,  whilst  the  secret  societies  introduce  into  the 
 State,  the  Bible  Societies  introduce  into  the  Church,  a 
 monstrous  democracy. 
 
( '^^  I  ) 
 
 the  niarljrs  :  it  is  their  blood  which  daiij  be- 
 comes in  those  infidel  countries  the  seed  of 
 Christians i  (1)  and  the  fruilful  source  of  those 
 heroes,  who  never  find  their  labours  too  painful, 
 or  their  privations  too  hard,  or  the  dangers  too 
 gTeat,  or  their  lives  more  precious  than  them- 
 selves, (2)  whenever  there  is  question  of  the 
 glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls. 
 
 Now  if  temporal  advantages  and  political  in- 
 terests could  be  counted  with  those  of  salvation 
 and  eternity— if  we  could  speak  of  the  progress 
 of  human  knowledge  at  the  same  time  as  of  that 
 of  truth  and  faith,,  we  might  liere  remark  how 
 favourable  the  Missions  have  been  to  arts  and 
 letters,  and  how  greatly  conducive  to  the  pros- 
 perity and  the  grandeur  of  our  country.  yVe 
 might  show  them  establishing  new  points  of 
 communication  between  the  most  distant  people 
 —  opening  new  avenues  to  commerce — offering 
 to  the  observator  new  discoveries,  to  the  histo 
 rian  new  riches,  new  hospitable  asylums  to 
 European  travellers — drawing  more  closely  all 
 those  links  which  should  unite  the  great  family 
 of  mankind ;  and  thus  might  we  prove  that  tliere 
 is  no  species  of  good,  for  which  the  Universe  is 
 not  the  debtor  of  Religion   and  her  ministers. 
 
 (1)  Tertul.  (2)  Acts  XX,  2A 
 
(   372  ) 
 
 We  could  show  you  lliat  our  greatest  statesmen 
 had  always  regarded  the  missions  as  a  capital 
 object  of  their  solicitude,  and  always  favoured 
 tlieni  as  one  of  the  most  powerful  means  of  ac- 
 quiring and  preserving  colonial  possessions.  AVe 
 could  prove,  in  a  word,  that  if  we  conquered 
 our  colonies  by  our  arms,  we  never  really  attach- 
 ed them  to  our  country  but  by  those  Mission- 
 aries, whose  loss  has  greatly  contributed  to  the 
 fatal  revolutions  which  have  wrested  from  us 
 those  splendid  establishments.  Whence  it  is 
 easy  to  conclude,  that  by  persecuting  those  pre- 
 cious men,  France  has  betrayed  her  own  inte- 
 rests, and  turned  her  arms  against  herself :  So 
 true  it  is,  that  every  state  loses  by  attacking  this 
 holy  religion,  which  is  useful  for  allj{\)  with 
 which  all  prospers,  both  literature  and  virtue, 
 the  treasure  of  the  learned  and  that  of  the  poor, 
 and  which,  as  the  Holy  Ghost  says,  bears  in  one 
 \\^nAj)eace  and  happiness,  and  in  the  o\hev  riches 
 and  glory.  (2) 
 
 And  could  we  here,  Our  Dearly  Beloved 
 Brethren,  refrain  from  forming  the  most  ardent 
 vows  for  the  entire  re- establishment  of  those 
 Oriental  Missions  which  have  been  destroyed 
 with  so  much  scandal  and  impolicy?     Is  it  not  a 
 
 (1)  Tim.  IV,  8.  (2)  Prov.  YIII. 
 
(  '-"s  ) 
 
 Iiomage  we  pay  to  the  spirit  of  zeal  and  piety 
 which  animates  the  son  of  St.  Lewis,  when  we 
 express  the  hope  that  vows  in  themselves  so  just 
 shall  shortly  receive  their  accomplishment  ?  Holy 
 Church  of  Siam  and  of  Tong-Ring  I  venerable 
 portion  of  this  Catholic  Church,  which  fills  the 
 universe,  accept  the  vows  of  the  Church  of 
 France,  which  engendered  thee  in  Jesus  Christ, 
 and  now,  though  at  a  distance,  embraces  and 
 salutes  thee !  Say,  hast  thou  learned  the  misfor- 
 tunes and  all  the  sufferings  of  thy  mother?  Alas  I 
 she  too  has  been  afflicted — she  too,  like  the 
 daughter  of  Sion,  has  seen  all  her  beauty  ob- 
 scured, and  her  grief  has  been  great  as  the  ocean 
 which  separates  thee  from  her.  But  now  the 
 calm  has  succeeded  to  the  tempest,  and  the  peace 
 at  least,  if  not  the  glory,  of  ancient  days  lias  been 
 restored  to  her.  With  her  then  rejoice  thee, 
 and  rekindle  thy  hopes.  The  same  God  who 
 has  dried  up  her  tears,  will  assuage  thy  pains- 
 he  who  has  given  her  back  her  Kings,  will  restore 
 thee  thy  Apostles  :  yet  a  moment,  and  thou  too, 
 like  her,  shalt  be  consoled. 
 
 But  if  the  Catholic  Church  sends  Missionaries 
 amongst  the  savage  or  infidel  nations,  she  also 
 sends  them  amongst  the  Christian  people;  and 
 the  interior  and  domestic  missions  are  not  less 
 dear  to  her,  nor  less  worthy  her  solicitude,  than 
 
( ^'^ ) 
 
 those  slie  directs  to  distant  countries.  ]\o  doubt, 
 our  Missionaries  of  France  have  no  inaccessible 
 mountains  to  cross,  no  impenetrable  forests  to 
 pervade^  no  ocean  to  navigate;  but  thej  have  to 
 float  on  the  stormj  sea  of  the  world,  in  the  midst 
 of  all  the  tempests  excited  bj  impiety  :  thej  liave 
 to  venture  on  this  torrent  of  depravity,  which 
 after  having  broken  all  its  mounds,  threatens  ruin 
 to  the  cities  and  the  countries.  They  have  to 
 save  France  from  this  studied  corruption,  the 
 most  fatal  and  incurable  of  all.  They  have  to 
 overturn,  not  indeed  the  idols  of  polytheism,  but 
 those  of  materialism  and  of  atheism,  more  hi- 
 deous by  far  than  the  false  divinities  of  Greece 
 and  Rome.  Generous  auxiliaries  of  our  Pastors, 
 they  lend  a  strong  hand  to  those  amongst  them 
 who  still  exist,  and  happily  supply,  as  much  as  in 
 them  lies,  the  afflicting  vacancies  of  so  many 
 widowed  churches.  In  a  word,  worthy  rivals  of 
 that  truly  apostolic  man,  Brydaine,  who  knew  so 
 well  how  to  unite  to  the  unction  which  per- 
 suades, the  strength  which  overthrows,  and 
 whose  thunderinsr  voice  seemed  at  once  to  rend 
 
 O 
 
 the  vaults  of  our  temples  and  the  hearts  of  his 
 auditors.  They  daily  distinguish  themselves  by 
 conquests,  which  draw  upon  them  the  increasing- 
 veneration  of  men  of  viitue,  and  the  cordial 
 hatred  of  the  wicked. 
 
(  '^'^'^  ) 
 
 How  happens  it  ihatsuch  glorious  titles  <lo  not 
 disann  their  fanatic  persecutors?  who  then  shall 
 explain  to  us  this  incredible  fury  with  which 
 they  pursue  them?  or  rather,  is  it  not  natural 
 that  the  enemies  of  God  should  not  tolerate 
 those  who  cause  Him  to  be  adored  and  served — 
 that  the  obdurate  criminals  cannot  bear  those 
 who  touch  the  heart,  and  that  the  unjust  pos- 
 sessors of  the  neighbour's  property  do  not  wish 
 to  restore  it  ?  Hence  this  list  of  their  odious 
 charcres  belied  bv  the  universe,  and  not  believed 
 by  themselves.  Hence  the  bold  affectation  with 
 which  they  tell  us,  that  we  have  no  need  of  Mis- 
 sionaries ;  that  the  ordinary  succours  are  more 
 than  sufficient :  and  that  every  mission  which 
 should  take  place  amongst  us  would  be  a  dan- 
 gerous, useless,  and  unseasonable  measure. 
 
 They  ask  ns,  in  the  first  place,  To  what  pur- 
 pose those  Missionaries?  Is  France  a  savage 
 clime, — a  barbarous  nation?  Imprudent  ques- 
 tion, if  ever  there  was  one,  but  which  suggests 
 to  us  another  w^e  shall  here  put  to  those  new 
 reformers, — to  those  incurable  madmen,  who 
 never  cease  to  labour  at  our  civilization,  and  talk 
 to  us  of  it  even  unto  disgust,  as  if  we  had  need  ol 
 it,  and  were  only  just  come  out  of  the  hands  ol 
 Nature.  Entirelv  occupied  with  moulding  us 
 anew,   ihev  would,   forsooth,  bring  us  back  to 
 
(  ;}7(;  ) 
 
 the  first  elements  of  reason,  as  it'  reason  Iiad 
 hitherto  done  nothing  for  us.  We  ask  them, 
 in  our  turn,  if  France  be  a  savage  clime  and  a 
 barbarous  nation ;  and  why  this  new  general 
 fusion  at  our  risk  and  peril,  and  whence  comes 
 it  that  they  no  longer  wish  we  should  be  the 
 children  of  our  fathers?  In  awaiting  their  answer 
 to  this  question,  we  shall  tell  them,  that  France 
 is  not  a  savage  clime,  because  she  is  fertile  and 
 rich  in  harvests;  but  that  it  is  sad  to  think 
 that  she  persecuted  the  pious  solitaries  who  had 
 reclaimed  her  deserts  whilst  thej  cultivated  our 
 letters.  We  shall  tell  them,  that  if  the  savages 
 devour  their  enemies,  we  have  devoured  our 
 friends,  our  benefactors,  our  brethren.  We 
 shall  tell  them,  that  France  is  not  a  barbarous 
 nation,  as  Religion  has  drawn  her  from  bar- 
 barism ;  but  that  without  Religion,  she  would 
 shortly  fall  back  into  the  savage  state.  We 
 shall,  in  fine,  tell  them,  that  the  greatness  of  the 
 remedy  should  be  proportioned  to  the  greatness 
 of  the  evil — that  the  helps  should  not  be  less  ex- 
 traordinary than  the  needs — and  that,  barbarous 
 or  not,  we  are  not  the  less  arrived  to  the  last 
 degree  of  human  perversity.  Alas  !  would  to 
 God  that  France  could  be  as  easily  converted 
 now,  as  Iiave  been  Canada,  Louisiana,  and  the 
 Other  savage  countries  conquered  by  the  Gos- 
 
(377) 
 
 pel !  Would  to  God  that  it  were  not  more  easy 
 to  bring-  back  a  barbarous  people  to  civilization, 
 than  to  prevent  a  civilized  nation  from  falling 
 into  barbarity,  and  that  a  bastardized  and  dege- 
 nerate race  should  find  no  greater  obstacles 
 against  its  return  to  reason  and  to  virtue,  than  a 
 new-formed  nation,  which  never  owned  the  in- 
 fluence of  virtue  or  of  reason  !  True  barbarity 
 consists  not  in  the  ignorance  of  every  thing,  but 
 in  the  knowledge  of  every  thing  except  what  we 
 should  know — not  in  the  absence  of  lights,  but 
 in  the  abuse  of  those  we  possess.  It  is  not  that 
 state  which  awaits  civilization,  but  that  which 
 falls  from  it  by  its  rottenness  and  decrepitude — 
 not  that  which  exhibits  the  grosser  vices  and  the 
 rustic  habits,  but  that  which  puts  forth  vices, 
 refined,  analysed,  justified,  as  ours  are,  by  dint 
 of  subtleties  and  philosophy.  It  is  not  that  slate, 
 in  a  word,  wherein  we  discover  more  hardness 
 in  the  heart,  and  a  blinder  impetuosity  in  the 
 desires  ;  but  that  in  which  we  find  the  greatest 
 falsehood  in  the  sentiments,  and  the  greatest 
 suppleness  in  the  mind,  to  take  whatever  direc- 
 tion it  receives  from  passion  or  interest.  Now 
 such  is  our  state,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 and  such  the  nev^'  civilization  to  which  we  are 
 but  too  truly  arrived.  Hence  it  is  easy  to  con- 
 clude, that  the  Missions  were  never  more  neces- 
 
( '^^^ ) 
 
 sary  or  inoie  seasonable,  and  that  we  may  now 
 look  upon  ourselves  as  existing-  in  a  Missionary 
 country.  No,  never  had  our  Missionaries  a 
 greater  number  of  blind  to  enlighten,  of  lame 
 and  paralytics  to  raise  up  and  make  walk,  of 
 lepers  to  cleanse,  of  dead  to  raise,  of  im.pious  to 
 confound,  and  of  devils  to  cast  out. 
 
 Was  France,  we  ask  it,  barbarous  under  the 
 great  King-  who  gave  his  name  to  his  own  age — 
 at  this  most  polished  and  most  brilliant  period  of 
 our  history,  when  the  splendour  of  virtue  vied 
 with  that  of  talents — in  that  ever  memorable  a3ra, 
 of  which  ours  is  hut  the  dregs Pi\)  And  yet, 
 was  it  not  then  that  our  Missionaries  took  their 
 highest  flight  ?  Was  il  not  then  that  were 
 founded  those  schools  for  the  propagation  of  the 
 faith,  those  companies  of  zealous  Evangelists, 
 those  fathers  of  the  Mission,  at  whose  head  was 
 St.  Vincent  of  Paul?  Then  might  you  have 
 seen  Bossuet  and  Fenelon,  and  many  other  illus- 
 trious characters,  making  in  the  Missions  the 
 noviciate  of  their  episcopacy.  To  our  Domestic 
 Missions  were  then  added  those  Foreign  Mis- 
 sions, w  hich  carried  to  such  a  distance  the  glory 
 of  the  Christian  and  of  the  French  name.    What 
 
 (1)  The  identical  expression  of  the  Oracle  of  the  Phi- 
 losophers. 
 
(  379  ) 
 
 llieri  I  The  age  of  decorum  and  of  honour  spoke 
 almost  exckisively  of  Missions,  would  have  no 
 others  than  Missionaries  ;  and  the  age  of  degra- 
 dation and  of  licentiousness  would  take  offence 
 at  their  very  name,  and  would  refuse  them  as 
 unseasonable  monitors  and  importunate  censors. 
 The  Missionaries  were  the  general  theme  when 
 the  number  of  pastors  was  jet  proportionate  to 
 the  number  of  the  flock,  and  they  would  now  be 
 rejected,  whilst  so  many  sheep  are  wandering 
 without  any  pastors  to  guide,  or  any  sheep  fold  to 
 shelter  them.  They  w^ere  the  general  theme, 
 when  the  chair  of  Truth  still  shone  in  all  its 
 splendour;  and  they  would  be  rejected  in  this 
 deplorable  time,  when  we  can  say  that  there  is 
 scarcely  any  pulpit  that  is  not  deserted  and 
 dumb.  They  were  the  general  theme  before 
 public  order  had  been  compromised,  whilst  yet 
 the  Throne  reposed  solidly  on  its  foundation, 
 and  Religion  held  the  same  rank  in  the  state,  as 
 God  in  the  universe — and  they  would  now  be 
 rejected,  on  the  very  close  of  aii  impious  Revo- 
 lution, which  has  shaken  every  thing  to  its  basis, 
 set  up  all  the  passions  as  principles,  put  all  the 
 vices  in  play,  and  rendered  the  existence  of  Re- 
 ligion so  precarious,  that  she  no  longer  knows 
 what  place  she  occupies  amongst  us.  Was 
 there  ever  a  more  odious  or  more  palpable  con- 
 
(  380  ) 
 
 tradiction?  Who  shall  ever  explain  this  deli- 
 rium, unless  indeed  we  be  told,  that  what  suited 
 an  age  of  piety,  of  zeal  and  good  works,  is  no 
 longer  adapted  to  the  age  of  ideas,  of  learned 
 theories  and  high  speculation  ;  and  that  if  Con- 
 fessors, Preachers,  and  Converters,  were  neces- 
 sary for  the  age  of  genius,  the  age  of  lights  needs 
 only  framers  of  constitutions  and  writers  of"  ro- 
 mances, declaimers  and  buffoonS;  thinkers  and 
 stage-players. 
 
 Let  them  then  no  longer  ask  us  if  France  be  a 
 savage  clime  and  a  barbarous  nation.  Let  us 
 rather  ask  how  it  happens,  that  with  so  much 
 misery  and  so  many  motives  of  self-humiliation, 
 after  so  many  of  the  grossest  misconceptions,  we 
 can  still  have  so  much  pride,  still  imagine  that 
 we  may  reject  the  word  of  salvation  because 
 we  are  running  daily  to  our  ruin.  Let  us  rather 
 ask  if  it  be  not  more  difficult  to  convert  us  than 
 the  infidels  themselves,  and  if  France  has  not  as 
 much  need  of  Missionaries  as  China  and  the 
 Indies.  What  do  we  say?  The  state  of  those 
 distant  countries  is  perhaps  preferable  to  ours; 
 it  forces  us  at  least  to  doubt  which  of  the  two 
 nations  presents  the  greatest  obstacles  to  the 
 light,  and  the  greatest  difficulties  for  its  conver- 
 sion. On  the  one  hand,  we  behold  a  people, 
 fond  even  to  idolatry  of  its  ancestors, — on  the 
 
(  381  ) 
 
 other,  a  people  that  cjespises  its  own,  loves  no- 
 thing that  they  loved,  and  tramples  under  foot 
 their  venerable  ashes.  In  the  first,  a  people 
 jealous  of  an  antiquity  vv^hich  it  claims  over  all 
 other  nations, — in  the  second,  a  people  that 
 blushes  at  its  own,  and  shamefully  renounces  its 
 own  history.  On  the  one  side,  a  people  that 
 will  admit  no  revolution,  and  that  repels  with 
 horror  any  idea  which  might  recall  its  recollec- 
 tion,— on  the  other,  a  people  so  little  satisfied 
 with  the  revolution  which  has  crushed  it,  that  it 
 calls  down  on  its  head  new  calamities,  and  fears 
 not  to  plunge  the  country  into  a  new  chaos. 
 Now  we  ask  it,  which  of  these  two  people 
 announces  the  greater  blindness,  or  advances 
 more  rapidly  towards  its  entire  dissolution  ?  Is 
 it  the  nation  which  is  always  prepared  to  combat 
 for  the  preservation  of  its  usages,  its  institutions 
 and  its  manners,  or  the  people  still  enamoured  of 
 novelty,  and  which,  by  dint  of  continual  changes, 
 has  already  succeeded  in  extinguishing  at  once 
 its  moral  and  its  French  life?  The  nation  which 
 will  not  change  religion,  or  that  which  outrages 
 its  own,  and  will  have  no  other  religion?  Is  it, 
 in  short,  the  nation  which  persecutes  the  Mis- 
 sionaries by  the  fanaticism  of  superstition,  or 
 that  which  persecutes  them  by  the  fanaticism  of 
 impiety  and  reason?     It  is  then  evidently  their 
 
(  382  ) 
 
 shocking  prifle  which  prompts  the  children  of 
 this  age  to  ask  us  :  to  -what  purpose  those  Mis- 
 sionaries'^. As  if  their  homilies  too  simple,  or 
 their  sermons  too  forcible,  compromised  the  na- 
 tion's dignitj ;  as  if  it  were  an  insult  on  the 
 refined  polish  of  our  French  civilization,  to 
 preach  to  us,  in  the  style  of  the  Prophets,  the 
 four  last  ends  of  man — death — judgment — hell 
 — and  heaven  ! 
 
 The  impious  will,  no  doubt,  tell  us  that  thej 
 do  not  attack  the  foundation  of  the  morality  or 
 the  doctrine  of  the  Missionaries,   but  only  the 
 means  they  use  to  ensure  success.     They  conse- 
 quently ask  us,  why  so  much  pomp  and  show, 
 so  many  spectacles  and  ceremonies,  to  move  the 
 multitude  and  speak  to  its  eyes?     But  how  do 
 those  men,  who  pretend  to  know  all,  not  know 
 at  the  same  time,  that  man  is  born  sensible  be- 
 fore he  becomes  rational,  and  that,   as  he  is  so 
 constituted,  nothing  is  more  natural  than  to  insi- 
 nuate ourselves  into  his  mind  by  the  senses,  and 
 thence  more  easily  into  his  heart?     Who  then 
 can  reasonably  decry  those  pious  exercises,  those 
 solemn  processions,  and  all  those  popular  prac- 
 tices, which  can  only  leave  impressions  of  virtue, 
 can  only  furnish  ideas  of  good  to  the  mind,  and 
 which,   though  subject  to  abuses,   as  all  other, 
 even  the.  holiest  things,  are  not  less  conformable 
 
(  383  ) 
 
 to  the  order  of  Nature  than  lo  that  of  Religion? 
 What  then   must  we  think  of  these  cold  and 
 sterile  speculators,  for  whom  calculation  is  everj 
 thing,  who  analyse  and  discuss  all,  incessantly 
 divide  and  subdivide,  and  anatomize  the  human 
 heart  just  as  they  dissect  a  dead  body  ?     What 
 are  those  fretful  and  gloomy  spirits  who  reproach 
 our  Missionaries,  even  with  their  holy  joy  and 
 their  pious  canticles,  so  strikingly  emblematic  of 
 the  Heavenly  Choirs?     To  whom  belong  those 
 souls,  so  obdurate  as  to  behold  without  emotion 
 those  processions  of  tender  virgins,  ornamented 
 at  once  with  their  piety  and  their  modesty — this 
 crowd  of  youths,  whose  recollection  and  fervor 
 are  still  heightened  by  the  charm  of  their  age,  so 
 happily  contrasting  with  that  of  the  elders  who 
 accompany  them — this  very  contrast  lending  to 
 all  a  new  strength  and  a  more  solid  edification 
 — those  solemn  plantations  of  the  Tree  of  Life, 
 of  this  Cross  which  has  conquered  the  world,  and 
 whose  aspect  is  so  well  calculated  to  console  the 
 unfortunate,  and  teach  us  to  carry  our  cross, — in 
 a  word,  all  those  pious  festivals,   in  which  the 
 sentiment  of  joy  and  that  of  Religion  mutually 
 aid  and  augment  each  other  ?     Is  there  in  the 
 world  a  more  pleasing  spectacle,   or  one  more 
 proper  to  elevate  the  soul  towards  God  ?     How 
 dead  must  we  not  be  to  virtue,  if  we  do  not  feel 
 
(  384  ) 
 
 its  charms!  To  speak  even  according  to  human 
 feeling,  where  could  we  find  for  the  people 
 more  innocent  distractions,  less  costlj  amuse- 
 ments, less  dangerous  and  more  suitable  recrea- 
 tions? Are  there  any  others  more  analogous  to 
 the  wants  of  man,  to  his  natural  miseries,  to  the 
 situation  and  circumstances  of  the  multitude? 
 What  more  proper  to  soften  the  manners,  and  to 
 promote  ugion  and  concord,  than  those  touching 
 ceremonies,  in  which  every  one  can  bear  a  part, 
 the  children  and  their  parents,  the  young  and  the 
 old,  the  ignorant  and  the  learned,  the  poor  and 
 the  rich  ?  Egregious  philosophers  !  tell  us  then 
 what  you  would  substitute  to  those  happy  expe- 
 dients, to  those  pious  stratagems,  in  order  to 
 bridle  vice  and  inspire  virtue  :  explain  to  us  then, 
 if  you  dare  it,  the  motives  of  your  feasts  and 
 your  songs,  your  dances  and  your  shows,  if  it  be 
 not  to  speak  to  the  passions  and  flatter  libertin- 
 ism. And  you  great  exercisers  of  our  corporal 
 and  mental  faculties,  inform  us  what  happy 
 changes  they  operate  in  the  soul.  Is  it  not  then 
 evident,  that  a  single  Missionary  with  those  sim- 
 ple means,  and  those  innocent  artifices,  inspired 
 by  his  zeal  and  his  industrious  charity,  is  infinitely 
 more  capable  of  conducting  men  in  the  ways  of 
 duty,  than  all  the  pedants  of  the  age,— all  the 
 professors  of  morality,  already  born  or  yet  to 
 
(  385  ) 
 
 come,  with  their  scientific  methods,  their  sopo- 
 riferous  lessons,  their  superfine  harangues,  and 
 all  their  prizes  of  eloquence,  of  poetry,  and  even 
 of  virtue,  were  they  even  more  common  than 
 they  are? 
 
 To  this  absurd  charge  of  indiscreet  and  extra- 
 ordinary  means  brought  against  the  Missionaries 
 by  the  children  of  this  age,  is  added  another  not 
 less  ridiculous,  and,  indeed,  the  natural  conse- 
 quence of  the  first.  They  reproach  them  with 
 a  too  ardent  zeal  for  making  converts.  Assuredly, 
 they  are  not  disposed  to  disculpate  themselves 
 from  this  charge  ;  their  zeal  is  a  duty  imposed  on 
 them,  nay,  a  right  granted  them,  by  truth.  It  is 
 of  the  essence  of  truth  to  endeavour  to  propa- 
 gate itself;  it  belongs  to  its  dignity  to  enlarge 
 its  conquests ;  to  truth  it  is  given,  as  to  the  Sun, 
 to  make  the  tour  of  the  world.  What  then  is 
 this  new  fanaticism^  which  would  proscribe  the 
 progress  of  virtue  and  true  knowledge;  as  if, 
 forsooth!  it  were  a  gratuitous  concession  to  truth 
 to  leave  it  its  disciples,  and  an  insult  on  error 
 to  deprive  it  of  its  slaves?  Was  there  ever  a  more 
 sad  confusion  of  ideas,  a  more  deplorable  abuse 
 of  language? 
 
 Who  then,  we  ask  it,  are  those  men  who 
 dare  continually  to  speak  to  us  of  proselytism? 
 Have  they  not  their  own,   and  who  could  be 
 
 B  B 
 
(  asG  ) 
 
 ignorant  of  iheir  indefatigable  zeal  for  the  dif- 
 fusion of  their  disastrous  systems?  Have  they 
 not  their  Propagandas,  and  even  their  Crusades, 
 whose  arms  are,  not  indeed  the  Cross,  but  the 
 firebrand,  and  whose  object  is,  not  to  rescue  the 
 sepulchre  of  the  Saviour,  but  to  dig  the  graves 
 of  Kings?  Have  they  not  their  Missions  in 
 schools,  in  houses  of  education,  and  even  in 
 those  places  we  dare  not  name?  After  having 
 corrupted  opulence,  are  they  not  still  labouring 
 to  corrupt  misery  ?  Does  not  their  furious  zeal 
 hurry  them  from  the  palace  even  to  the  cottage  ? 
 Do  they  not  sow  in  our  very  furrows  their  em- 
 poisoned writings?  And,  the  belter  to  circulate 
 their  venom,  do  they  not  bestow,  when  they 
 cannot  sell  them?  Do  they  not  recruit  their 
 ranks  with  every  debauchee,  with  every  am- 
 bitious aspirant,  with  all  the  friends  of  liberty 
 or  licentiousness,  all  the  abettors  of  anarchy,  all 
 those  usurers  and  other  adventurers,  who  only 
 dream  of  fortune,  rapine,  and  confiscation? 
 And  why  would  not  the  Missionaries  do  for 
 good,  what  the  Philosophers  do  for  evil?  Why 
 would  they  not  propose  to  their  proselytes  the 
 peace  of  the  heart  for  encouragement,  and 
 Heaven  for  recompense  ;  as  the  latter  only  pro- 
 pose to  their  followers  money  for  incentive, 
 money  for  motive,  and  slill  money  for  their  last 
 
(  387  ) 
 
 end  ?  And  is  it  not  far  better,  by  our  preaching, 
 to  render  the  youth  virtuous,  and  even  scrupul- 
 ous, than  to  render  them  studious,  debauched, 
 and  factious? 
 
 Here  naturally  presents  itself,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  the  important  confession  of 
 the  first  Sophist  of  the  age:  that  the  rage  of 
 proseljtism  seems  to  animate  the  incredulous.  (1 ) 
 This  he  wrote  to  a  famous  unbeliever;  and  this 
 impious  wretch,  at  the  head  of  his  sect,  passed 
 his  whole  life  in  making-  proselytes,  or  ac- 
 complices, by  every  the  most  wily  means,  and 
 laboured,  with  rage,  at  the  great  work — that  of 
 regenerating  or  revolutionising  France.  Precious 
 confession,  wrested  from  him  by  the  force  of 
 truth,  and  which  it  is  good  to  remember,  in 
 order  that  it  may  remain  demonstrated  that  this 
 rage  of  proseljtism  has  ever  been  the  portion  of 
 the  incredulous^  whether  they  enrolled  dis- 
 ciples, as  formerly,  in  favour  of  humanity  and 
 benevolence,  or  whether  they  enroll  them,  as  in 
 our  days,  in  the  cause  of  insurrection,  of  anarchy, 
 and  independence. 
 
 With  the  same  frankness  does  this  same 
 Sophist  stand  up  against  the  ardent  Missionaries 
 of  Atheism  s  (2)  Missionaries  so  much  the  lesscon- 
 
 (1)  Rousseau.  Let.  to  D'Alembert.  (2)  Ibid. 
 
 15  B* 
 
(  388  ) 
 
 sistent  in  llieir  ardor,  so  much  the  more  inex- 
 plicable in  their  Missions,  as  there  is  nolhing 
 more  gloomy  than  the  empire  of  the  dead,  no- 
 thing more  horrible  than  the  conquest  of  annihi- 
 lation. And,  surely,  it  is  a  real  phenomenon — 
 which  could  only  belong  to  the  age  of  lights — to 
 behold  the  hottest  spirits  combatting  for  the 
 coldest  and  the  most  pitiful  systems,  and  zealots 
 without  conviction  defending,  with  ardor,  creeds 
 without  authority  and  opinions  without  belief ! 
 We  easily  conceive  that  men  may  have  a  taste 
 for  pleasures,  and  be  hurried  on  by  the  passions ; 
 but  how  explain  this  fanatical  taste  for  the 
 tombs,  or,  to  speak  with  a  celebrated  writer, 
 this  taste  for  despair ^  (1)  which  we  must  sup- 
 pose in  the  Atheist?  We  defy  all  those  ardent 
 Missionaries  to  resolve  this  problem,  unless  they 
 tell  us,  that  they  greedily  devour  those  Atheistical 
 doctrines,  in  order  the  better  to  break  every 
 curb,  to  free  themselves  from  all  control,  to  con- 
 found, in  one  ruin.  Thrones  and  Altars,  and  thus 
 become  themselves  the  sole  idols  of  their  own 
 worship. 
 
 It  is  here  essentially  necessary  to  remark,  that 
 this  same  charge  of  proseljtism,  with  which  the 
 impious  inculpate  our  Missionaries,   is  equally 
 
 (1)  Pensces  de  Pascal. 
 
(  389  ) 
 
 brought  against  the  Catholic  Church  by  the  sects 
 which  have  gone  forth  from  her  bosom.  Alarmed 
 at  the  numerous  and  splendid  conversions  which 
 daily  take  place,  whilst  no  member  of  Catholic 
 unity  abandons  her,  in  order  to  go  elsewhere, 
 they  cry  out  more  loudly  than  ever  against 
 those  conversions,  imperiously  commanded  by 
 reason  and  conscience.  They  even  go  so  far  as 
 to  take  severe  measures,  in  order  to  arrest  their 
 progress:  measures  as  unjust  as  they  are  im- 
 politic, and  which  appear  to  us  incompatible 
 with  their  principle;  that  nothing  is  more  lawful 
 than  a  change  of  religion.  Miserable  and  ill- 
 timed  precautions,  which  are,  at  bottom,  but  a 
 cry  of  alarm  and  a  signal  of  distress,  evidently 
 betraying  the  secret  of  this  hypocritical  toleration 
 so  much  lauded  in  our  days — -of  this  systematic 
 indifference,  which  wholly  consists  in  neutralising 
 every  thing,  and  putting  all  on  the  same  line — 
 truth  and  falsehood — the  ancient  Church  and  the 
 new  sects — the  Church  which  comes  down  from 
 Jesus  Christ,  and  that  which  comes  from  I  know 
 not  whom,  and  which  knows  not  where  it  goes. 
 Treacherous  combination!  by  which  they  would 
 establish  the  communion  of  all  creeds,  in  order 
 the  better  to  destroy  them  by  each  other. 
 Fatal  system,  —  slow  poison  —  which  silently 
 corrodes  all  the  stays  of  social  order.     Dreary 
 
(  390  ) 
 
 and  deplorable  confusion,  the  greatest  wound 
 which  could  be  inflicted  on  public  morals,  and 
 the  most  artful  persecution  ever  contrived,  dur- 
 ing these  eighteen  centuries,  against  the  true 
 Religion. 
 
 From  this  charge  of  proselytism,  which  the 
 children  of  impiety  are  pleased  to  confound 
 with  in*;olerance,  springs,  no  doubt,  another 
 which  they  still  bring  against  our  Missionaries, 
 to  wit,  that  of  troubling  consciences.  And, 
 indeed,  nothing  is  more  worthy  of  them.  Here 
 lies  their  fairest  triumph,  as  their  greatest  sor- 
 row is  not  to  be  able  to  trouble  them  all.  Thus 
 Paul  made  the  haughty  Felix,  though  a  Pagan 
 and  a  Philosopher,  tremble.  We  know  per- 
 fectly why  those  men,  who  would  stifle  all  re- 
 morses, do  not  wish  they  should  be  awakened. 
 In  this  point,  do  they  show  themselves  more 
 guilty  than  the  infernal  spirits,  who  believe  and 
 tremble  (1) — if,  indeed,  it  be  true  that  they  do 
 not  tremble,  and  that  it  cannot  be  said  of  them 
 that  they  only  fear  this  troubling  of  consciences, 
 because  their  own  troubles  and  torments  them. 
 What  then !  do  they  wish  that  the  Men  of  God 
 should  speak  of  peace,  when  there  is  no  peace,  (2) 
 or  that  they  should   not  otherwise  attack  the 
 
 (1)  James  XI,  19.  (2)  Jerem.  VI,  ih. 
 
(  391   ) 
 
 great  disorders  of  the  age  than  by  palliating 
 them  all  with  this  coward  moderation — the  only 
 virtue  we  now  possess?  Has  not  the  Lord  said, 
 that  his  impetuous  word  is  all  Jire,  and  lihe  the 
 hammer  -which  breaks  the  stone?  (1)  And  must 
 not  the  word  of  his  interpreters  bear  the  im- 
 pression of  this  vehement  ardor?  But  yet,  if 
 they  are  as  inexorable  as  truth,  they  are  as  in- 
 dulgent and  as  merciful  as  charity.  If,  on  the 
 one  hand,  they  alarm,  on  the  other  they  console. 
 No  doubt  they  arm  themselves  with  the  terror 
 of  God's  judgments,  in  order  to  overawe  the 
 impenitent  and  the  rebellious j  but  still  they 
 announce,  Glory  to  God  on  high,  and  peace  on 
 earth  to  r?ien  of  good  will. {2)Lik.e  the  Aposile, thej' 
 correct  and  reprimand  those  restless  and  haughty- 
 spirits  who  bid  defiance  even  to  God;  but,  like 
 him  also,  do  thej  encouruge  the  timid  and  show 
 forbearance  to  all.  (3)  Doubtless,  they  consign 
 to  hell  all  those  Atheistical  dogmatiz^rs,  those 
 corrupters  of  youth,  and  the  editors,  abettors, 
 and  hawkers  of  certain  Complete  Tf^orks :  and 
 to  what  then  should  they  condemn  them,  since 
 God  has  no  greater  chastisement  to  inflict?  But 
 who  can  upbraid  them  with  this  as  with  a  crime? 
 
 (1)  Jerem.  XXIII,  29.  (2)  Luke  II,  lA. 
 
 (3)  I.  Thess.  V,  lA. 
 
(  392  ) 
 
 And  must  not  our  sight  have  failed,  must  not  our 
 senses  be  confounded,  if  we  turn  against  them 
 the  greatest  glory  of  their  Apostleship?  Who 
 shall  own  with  sufficient  gratitude  this  important 
 service  rendered  by  them  to  humanity  and  public 
 morals?  ^^Do  you  not  remark/'  said,  in  one  of 
 his  lucid  intervals,  the  Philosopher  already 
 quoted,  *'  Do  you  not  remark,  that  this  long 
 time  past,  we  hear  not  a  word  of  restitutions,  of 
 reparations,  of  death-bed  reconciliations — that 
 all  the  dying,  strangers  to  repentance  and  re- 
 morse, fearlessly  carry  to  the  other  world  the 
 neighbour's  property,  lies,  and  fraud,  in  the 
 consciences  which  they  had  charged  with  those 
 crimes  during  their  lives."  (4)  It  was  then,  ac- 
 cording to  him,  most  useful,  nay,  even  extremely 
 urgent,  to  strike  terror  into  consciences  and  to 
 appal  the  guilty.  And  such  are  the  happy 
 fruits  produced  by  the  Missions,  and  none,  but 
 those  abandoned  by  God,  could  be  interested  in 
 proscribing  them.  Alas!  how  many  misfor- 
 tunes would  we  not  spare  our  country,  if  we 
 could  make  all  those  audacious  miscreants 
 tremble,  whose  whole  art  consists  in  strengthen- 
 ing the  passions  by  sophistry,  and  sophistry  by 
 the  passions.     Those  impious  fanatics  who,  like 
 
 (1)  Rousseau  judging  Jean  Jacques. 
 
(  393  ) 
 
 those  spoken  of  by  the  Prophet,  have  made  a 
 compact  with  death  and  hell,  not  to  enter  into 
 themselves!  (1)  And  how  happy  should  we 
 feel,  if  we  succeeded  in  overturning-  their  con- 
 sciences, that  thereby  they  should  no  longer 
 think  of  overturning"  our  country,  and  of 
 troubling  the  peace  of  mankind! 
 
 And  when  was  it  more  necessary,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren,  to  sound  the  alarm,  and  to 
 strike  terror  into  consciences,  than  in  those 
 days,  in  which  philosophy  seeks  to  lull  us  into  a 
 moral  torpor,  and  a  mortal  lethargy?  When 
 had  we  greater  need  of  new-tempering  the 
 armour  of  faith,  of  lending  energy  to  zeal,  and 
 courage  to  sacred  eloquence,  than  in  this  age  of 
 thoughtless  improvidence  and  false  security,  in 
 which,  like  those  spoken  of  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
 who,  after  having  lost  their  helm,  slumber  in 
 full  sea  to  the  noise  of  the  roaring  waves,  (2) 
 we  wander,  at  hazard,  in  the  midst  of  a  thousand 
 shoals,  on  the  troubled  sea  of  the  world  which 
 has  burst  through  all  its  mounds — on  the  shore- 
 less ocean  of  human  opinions — after  having  lost 
 sight  of  the  beacon  of  faith,  and  of  the  star  of 
 truth?  It  is  thus,  without  repentance  for  the 
 past,  without  fear  for  the  future,  we  are  already 
 
 (1)  Isai.  XXVIII,  5.  (2)  Prov.  XXIII,  3A. 
 
(  394  ) 
 
 arriving,  in  a  deadly  calm,  at  the  dreary  port  of 
 eternity — dormiens  in  mari^  amisso  clavo.  Ah! 
 surely  it  is  now  we  must  seize  the  trumpet — 
 strike  all  those  great  blows  which  awaken  the 
 dead — hurl  all  the  thunders  of  Divine  wrath, 
 and  cry  still  more  loudly  than  ever:  TVoe  to 
 thee,  Corozain!  (1)  TVoe  to  thee.  Bethsaidal 
 Yet  forty  days,  and  Ninive  shall  he  no  more,  (2) 
 Jf  you  do  not  penance,  you  shall  all  perish.  (3) 
 It  is,  no  doubt,  because  our  Missionaries 
 trouble  consciences,  that  the  children  of  the 
 world  still  accuse  them  of  troubling  the  public 
 peace.  But  in  what  age  was  it  ever  remarked, 
 that  to  preach  conjugal  failh  to  the  married — to 
 children,  respect  for  their  parents — to  the  peo- 
 ple, the  love  of  their  King — to  Kings,  the  love 
 of  their  people — was  a  cause  of  troubling  pub- 
 lic order?  hy  what  means  then  shall  we  pre- 
 serve and  consolidate  it  ?  What  then  I  Are  the 
 Missionaries  those,  who  set  fire  to  our  pro- 
 perties— provoke  seditions — foment  conspiracies 
 — and  contrive  the  most  criminal  plots?  Have 
 they  ever  forced  the  doors  of  those  repairs 
 where  their  enemies  are  seate-d,  and  where  they 
 celebrate  their  obscene  mysteries  and  political 
 
 (1)  Luke  X,  13  (2)  Jonas,  IV. 
 
 (3)  Luke  XIII,  5. 
 
(  395  ) 
 
 orgies?  Do  tliej  scatter  gold  in  our  public 
 places,  to  corrupt  the  people?  Were  they  ever 
 beard  to  cry,  to  arms,  unless,  indeed,  to  those 
 arms  with  which  we  combat  the  passions,  the 
 vicious  habits,  and  shameful  inclinations?  Were 
 they  ever  heard  to  speak  of  independence  and 
 liberty,  unless^  indeed,  of  the  liberty  of  the 
 children  of  God,  the  only  true  Freemen,  (1) 
 according  to  the  Apostle  ?  Do  they  ever  meddle 
 in  politics — the  light  and  ludicrous  amusement 
 of  our  great  and  little  wits — unless,  indeed, 
 when  they  tell  us,  that  the  true  and  unerring 
 policy  is  Religion,  without  which  every  thing 
 must  totter  and  fail  in  its  foundation  ?  Is  it  at 
 tlieir  school  that  we  are  taught  insurrection,  and 
 that  we  learn  revolt?  Alas!  all  those  young 
 apprentices  of  revolution,  who  only  dream  of 
 liberty,  and  burn  to  distinguish  themselves  in 
 the  career  of  disorder,  may,  indeed,  have  made 
 their  studies,  but  most  certainly  they  have  not 
 made  their  mission.  Such  is  the  grand  reply 
 we  have  to  make  to  those  unjust  and  passionate 
 accusers.  And  does  not  our  indignation  here 
 equal  our  surprise,  when  we  reflect  that  such 
 charges  are  brought  forward  by  men  who,  after 
 having  set  fire  to   the  four  corners  of  France, 
 
 (1)  Rom.  VIII. 
 
(  39G  ) 
 
 are  yel  labouring  to  throw  all  Europe  into  con- 
 flagraliori  ? 
 
 In  fine,  those  detractors  imagine  thej  insult 
 our  Missionaries,  hj  calling  them  converters. 
 This  we  conceive  in  men,  who  never  regret  but 
 the  evil  they  have  not  done,  and  never  repent 
 but  when  they  fail  in  their  designs.  But  here 
 they  speak  more  properly  than  they  think,  or 
 even  than  they  would  do,  when  they  call  those 
 importunate  prophets,  converters ;  for  they  are 
 nothing  else,  and  this  is  the  very  expression 
 which  suits  them.  They  do  not  style  them- 
 selves the  regents  of  kings,  the  tutors  of  the 
 people,  the  preceptors  of  the  human  race,  the 
 propagator's  of  light,  and  the  regulators  of  pub- 
 lic opinion — no,  they  are  merely  Converters. 
 They  are  not  come  to  cure  you  of  your  pre- 
 judices, but  of  your  vices, — to  speak  to  you  of 
 your  rights,  but  of  your  duties.  They  are  men 
 inspired  by  this  Divine  Law  which  converts 
 souls,  (1)  and  sent  by  him  who  has  said:  Be  con- 
 verted unto  me  from  jour  whole  heart.  (2) 
 They  are  converters,  as  the  Apostles  were,  and, 
 like  them,  are  fishers  of  men,  (3)  who  continually 
 cast  their  nets  to  draw  us  from   the   stagnant 
 
 (1)  Psal.  XVIII,  8.  (2)  Joel  XI,  12. 
 
 (3)  Mafth.  XVI. 
 
(  397  ) , 
 
 waters  of  iniquity.  They  wish  that  we  should 
 divest  ourselves  of  the  old  man,  to  put  on  the 
 new,  (1)  and  that  every  sinner  should  rend,  not 
 his  garment,  but  his  heart.  (2j  We  now  feel 
 how  strange  this  grand  and  magnificent  morality 
 must  appear  to  all  those  refined  wits,  whose 
 greatest  talent  lies  in  polishing  the  surface  of 
 man,  and  in  white-washing  the  sepulchre.  They 
 only  apply  themselves  to  the  outside  of  things, 
 and  make  all  education  consist  in  palliating  vice, 
 all  virtue  in  moderation,  and  all  conversion  in 
 counterfeit  hypocrisy.  It  is  not  so  with  our 
 Missionaries,  who  look  upon  the  soul  as  all,  and 
 the  outside  as  nothing.  They  are  true  con- 
 verters; they  would  wrest  you  from  the  world 
 and  your  passions,  to  restore  you  to  yourselves, 
 or  rather,  they  would  wrest  you  from  your- 
 selves, to  restore  you  to  your  God.  Herein 
 consists  all  their  ambition,  and  all  their  science. 
 Was  there  ever  a  more  noble,  a  more  glorious 
 ambition?  What  then  must  we  think  of  the 
 madmen  who  could  require  of  them  any  other? 
 And  are  not  the  children  of  the  world  also 
 converters?  Would  they  not  make  of  a  good 
 Frenchman,  who  loves  his  king,  a  factious 
 rebel  to  judge  and  even  betray  himj — of  a  good 
 
 (1)  Colos.  Ill,  9.  (2)  Joel  XI,  IS. 
 
(  398  ) 
 
 Christian,  who  loves  his  God,  a  sage  to  love  only 
 himself,  or  others  for  himself  ?     And  if  we  here 
 dared  to  speak  out — if  it  were  not  contrary  to 
 the  gravity  of  our  Ministry  to  invent  new  terms, 
 could  we  not,  in  our  turn,  call  them  perverters  ; 
 name  peculiarly  adapted  to  them,  as  it  is  in  itself 
 unequivocal,  and  as  no  one  can  mistake  in  its 
 application.    Yes,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 they  are  perveHers^  who  torture  their  wits  to 
 exalt  the  imagination,  to  deceive  the  credulity 
 of  the  simple,  and  flatter  the  pride  of  the  bHnd 
 and  impassioned  multitude.    Perverters  so  much 
 the  more  dangerous,  as  their  great  art  consists 
 in  working  a  confusion  of  ideas  by  the  confusion 
 of  words :  like  those  men    spoken  of    by    the 
 Prophet,   who  habituate  themselves  to  I  know 
 not  what  magic  cant,   proper  and  peculiar  to 
 themselves,   and  whicJi   ihey  have  invented  for 
 the  misfortune    of  the  world — -firmaverunt  sibi 
 sermonem  nequain.  (1)  Each  of  their  words  is  a 
 snare,  each  of  their  discourses  a  dart.  (2)  Wor- 
 thy heirs  of   those    who   created    a   Supreme 
 Being,  (3)  ihat  men  should  no  longer  mention 
 the  name  of  God,  they  attack  Rehgion  in  the 
 
 (1)  Psal.  LXllI,  6.  (2)  Psal.  LIV,  22. 
 
 (3)  On    the   motion  of   Robespierre   in   the   National 
 Assembly. 
 
(  399  ) 
 
 very  name  of  Religion,  and  the  Missionaries, 
 saj  thej,  for  the  honour  of  the  Missions  them- 
 selves. Thus  do  thej  transform  those  angels  of 
 peace  into  promoters  of  discord — those  lambs,  in 
 the  midst  of  v^olves,  into  the  wolves  themselves 
 — those  physicians  of  souls  into  tyrants  of  con- 
 sciences— those  legates  of  the  first  pastors  into 
 religious  adventurers — those  men,  who  live  on 
 little  and  often  want  the  necessaries  of  life,  into 
 avaricious  wretches  possessed  with  the  love  of 
 gain.  Thus  to  preach  the  Gospel  in  the  face  of 
 day,  is  to  work  secret  conspiracies — to  preach 
 the  pardon  of  injuries,  is  to  exasperate  the 
 passions — to  reconcile  enemies,  is  to  divide 
 families — to  pour  balm  into  the  wounds,  is  to 
 envenom  them— and  to  call  for  restitutions,  is 
 to  alarm  proprietors.  Is  not  this  the  very  genius 
 of  perversity,  and  could  it  make  a  more  shame- 
 ful traffic  of  falsehood?  Is  not  this  the  double 
 and  accursed  tongue  (1)  spoken  of  by  the  pro- 
 phet,—  the  lying  language,  which  calls  day 
 night,  and  night  day,  changes  good  into  evil, 
 and  evil  into  goodP  (2)  Surely,  if  it  be  given 
 to  the  infernal  spirits  to  utter  themselves  in 
 language,  they  can  speak  no  other  language 
 than  this! 
 
 (1)  Ecd.  V,  il.  (2)  Isai.V,  20. 
 
(  400  ) 
 
 The  moderation-  men  of  our  age,  that  is  to 
 say,  the  furious  partisans  of  moderation  and  to- 
 leration, those  men  who  require  of  us  a  coward 
 lukewarmness  and  an  effeminate  condescension 
 whenever  there  is  question  of  avenging  outraged 
 virtue,  and  who  demand  for  themselves  alone 
 power  and  even  violence  to  defend  their  fatal 
 doctrines,  will  no  doubt  find  our  zeal  too  ardent 
 and  our  style  too  strong.  They  will,  perhaps, 
 even  repeat  to  us  what  the  iniquitous  judge  said 
 to  Jesus  Christ :  He  hath  blasphemed,  blasphe- 
 mavit  J  (1)  but  why  have  we  not  rather  this  iron 
 pen  which  holy  Job  demanded,  in  order  to  re- 
 count the  crimes  of  Juda  and  the  iniquities  of 
 Jacob  ?  Why  does  not  our  voice,  like  that  of 
 the  Lord,  resemble  the  thunder  rolling  in  the 
 cloud,  (2)  that  we  might  paint  in  their  true  co- 
 lours the  implacable  enemies  of  conversions  and 
 converters,  who  will  no  longer  hear  of  amend- 
 ment for  themselves  or  even  for  others,  and  not 
 content  with  remaining  what  they  are,  still  daily 
 labour  to  become  worse  than  they  can  be?  And 
 this.  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren,  at  the  mo- 
 ment when  public  corruption  is  without  bottom, 
 and  public  immorality  without  bounds;  when 
 we  must  enlarge  our  Jails,  so  great  the  number 
 
 [1)  Maiih.  XXVI,  65.  (2)   Job.  XIX,  2A. 
 
(  401   ) 
 
 of  prisoners,  and  our  hospitals,  so  augmented  the 
 list  ol'  foundlings;  when  we  must  multiply  our 
 judges  and  magistrates,  so  rapid  the  progression 
 of  the  crimes  to  be  judged,  and  the  penalties  to 
 be  inflicted;  when  we  must  augment  our  mad- 
 houses, so  increased  the  proportion  of  fools,  ac- 
 cording to  the  Judgment  and  Report  of  Medical 
 Men.  (1)  Hereby  is  it  demonstrated,  that  im- 
 piety and  philosophy  do  not  less  derange  the 
 head  than  they  degrade  the  heart.  Is  it,  we  ask 
 it,  in  this  deplorable  moment  of  unexampled 
 perversity,  that  it  should  be  imputed  to  us  as  a 
 crime  to  labour  for  the  conversion  of  the 
 wicked,  who  are  springing  up  on  all  hands, 
 and  who  loudly  accuse  this  regenerating  age  ? 
 At  this  moment  forsooth,  they  ask  us  why  so 
 many  Missionaries  to  convert,  when  there  are 
 so  many  Magistrates  to  punish  us?  It  is  at  such 
 a  moment  we  hear  them  more  loudly  than  ever 
 repeat  the  favourite  maxim  of  their  Professors  of 
 morals :  that  the  whole  secret  of  social  order  and 
 public  administration  consists  in  the  Law  and 
 the  Executioner  !  Whence  it  follows,  that 
 those  zealous  friends  of  humanity  love  rather  to 
 punish  crimes  than  to  prevent  them — to  erect 
 
 (1)  Printed    Report   of  one    of  the  Freach  Phj^sicians 
 sent  to  Barcelona  during  ibe  late  plague. 
 
 c  c 
 
(  402  ) 
 
 iribbets  than  lo  plant  crosses— to  send  criminals 
 to  the  gallows  than  to  confession. 
 
 Hasten  then,  intrepid  Apostles  of  truth,  fly  ye 
 quick  Angels  and  preach  to  this  nation  which  is 
 dissolving  and  tearing  itself  with  it  sown  hands.  (1 ) 
 Have  pitj  on  its  miserj,  convert  and  snatch 
 from  its  own  fury  this  people  tormented  with 
 the  double  distemper  of  its  laws  and  morals, 
 and  which,  like  that  spoken  of  by  an  ancient,(2) 
 has  no  longer  the  strength  to  support  the  evils 
 under  which  it  labours,  nor  the  remedies  whicli 
 might  save  it.  Go  to  this  nation  which  calls 
 itself  new,  because  it  no  longer  recognises  itself  ; 
 which  imagines  it  commences,  because  it  is 
 closing  its  career.  Placed  between  the  past 
 which  it  rejects,  but  which  incessantly  pursues 
 it,  and  the  future,  which  it  invokes,  but  which 
 continually  escapes  it,  no  longer  knows  it  what 
 road  to  follow,  or  what  road  to  leave.  More 
 infidel  in  short,  than  the  infidels  themselves,  it 
 owns  no  God  but  for  form,  no  religion  but  for 
 the  name.  Ite  Angel  iveloces  ad  genteni  con- 
 vulsani  el  dilaceratam.  Did  you  ever  receive  a 
 Mission  more  capable  of  inflaming  your  ardor 
 and  of  interesting  your  zeal  !  Go  ye  then  !  It 
 was  with  earthen  vessels  that  the  Lord  was  for- 
 
 (1)  Isai.  XVII.  (2)  Livy. 
 
(  403  ) 
 
 merlj  pleased  that  his  people  should  defeat  his 
 enemies.  You  are  those'  feeble  instruments 
 which  Divine  Providence  wishes  to  emploj,  in 
 order  to  break  the  iron  vessels  of  the  age.  Be- 
 ware of  mistrusting  the  protection  of  Heaven,  or 
 of  believing  them  too  obstinate,  or  too  obdurate 
 to  be  converted.  Is  it  not  written,  that  God  is 
 powerful  enough  of  these  stones  to  raise  up  chil- 
 dj-efi  to  Abraham  F  (1 )  Has  not  Jesus  Christ  said  : 
 have  confidence,  I  have  overcome  the  %vorld?(^) 
 Go  je  then  I  If  thej  banish  you  from  one  city, 
 shake  off  even  the  dust  of  jour  feet,  and  go  into 
 another.  (3)  Render  yourselves,  by  your  vic- 
 tories, still  worthier  of  the  honourable  hatred  of 
 your  detractors.  The  very  rage  with  which 
 they  pursue  you  will  suffice  for  your  glory. 
 They  attack  you  by  insults— answer  them  by 
 your  good  works :  pardon  them,  although  they 
 knoiv  what  they  do — oppose  your  prayers  to  their 
 persecution;  yourgoodexamplestotheiroutrages. 
 Prove  to  them  still  more  strongly,  that  your  zeal 
 equals  your  disinterestedness — that  your  recom- 
 pense is  in  Heaven,  and  that  they  shall  never 
 succeed  in  fatiguing  your  patience,  as  long  as 
 you  shall  hp-^^e  good  to  do,  the  unfortunate  to 
 
 (1)   Matth.  Ill,  9.  (2)  John  XVI,   33. 
 
 (3)  Luke  IX,   5. 
 
 GC* 
 
(  404  ) 
 
 console,  llie  ignorant  to  enlighten,  the  poor  to 
 evaiigelize,  the  impious  to  confound,  and  souls 
 to  save. 
 
 And  you.  Our  Dearlj  Beloved  Co-operators, 
 you  will  repulse  far  from  you  those  detractors 
 of  our  Missions,  who  have  not  hesitated  to  ad- 
 vance with  efiProntery,  that  the  ordinary  Ministry 
 of  the  Pastors  is  suflicient  for  the  wants  of  the 
 people,  and  that,  even  were  it  not  so,  it  were 
 better  they  should  be  deprived  of  Pastors,  than 
 supplied  with  Missionaries.  You  will  the  more 
 cautiously  distrust  those  perfidious  flatterers, 
 whose  great  art  lies  in  exciting  self-love,  in 
 holding  out  to  you  as  strangers  to  your  Churches 
 men  called  and  sent  by  Us;  as  rivals,  your  bro- 
 thers in  the  Priesthood  who  go  amongst  you  in 
 our  name,  to  share  your  pains,  not  your  privi- 
 leges; your  solicitude,  not  your  authority;  and 
 who  will  never  own  any  other  rivalry  with  the 
 Pastors  than  that  of  the  love  of  good,  and  of  zeal 
 for  the  happiness  of  their  flocks.  You  will  ne- 
 ver forget,  that  those  artisans  of  falsehood,  who 
 speak  so  much  of  your  rights,  are  the  very  same, 
 or  at  least  the  heirs  of  those  who  despoiled  you 
 of  them,  though  they  now  set  up  for  the  assertors 
 of  your  privileges.  Remember  that  they  no  more 
 recognise  the  rights  of  the  Church  than  those  of  the 
 Monarch,  and  that  it  is  of  them  we  can  say,  that 
 
(  405  ) 
 
 if  j'Oii  still  enjoy  the  right  of  breathing  it  is  not 
 their  fault.  Shutting  your  ears  against  their 
 perfidious  suggestions,  you  will  then  hail  with 
 greater  joy  those  generous  auxiliaries  of  your 
 Pastoral  charge,  and  throwing  into  one  common 
 stock  your  efforts  and  your  labours,  your  vows 
 and  your  prayers,  you  will  share  their  merit  be- 
 fore God,  and  their  glory  before  men  ;  if  indeed 
 there  can  be  any  glory  here  below  save  that  of 
 merit  before  God. 
 
 You  are  now,  Our  Dearly  Beloved  Brethren, 
 acquainted  with  the  principal  motives  and 
 grounds  of  the  calumnies  with  which  the  chil- 
 dren of  the  world  asperse  our  Missionaries,  in 
 order  to  embarrass  their  Ministry.  Were  there 
 ever  any  falsehoods  more  pitiful  and  more  absurd, 
 and  is  it  possible  they  could  have  shaken  your 
 minds  a  single  moment?  You  have  seen  the 
 Great  Age  send  those  indefatigable  labourers 
 through  France  and  through  the  world,  whilst 
 our  age,  the  meanest  of  all  others,  would  banish 
 them  from  the  last  of  our  hamlets,  and  extermi- 
 nate them  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  You  have 
 heard  our  great  speakers  of  civilization  declaim 
 with  violence  against  the  true  creators  of  the  ci- 
 vilization of  the  two  worlds  j  our  great  speakers 
 of  humanity  insult  the  best  benefactors  of  the 
 human  race;  and  pretended  friends  of  the  people 
 
(  406  ) 
 
 abuse  their  credulity  and  traffic  with  their  igno- 
 rance, by  representing  to  them  as  their  greatest 
 enemies  their  mediators,  their  advocates,  and 
 their  fathers — our  false  friends  of  freedom  blas- 
 pheme against  the  Missions,  because  they  only 
 dream  of  faction  and  conspiracy.  You  have 
 heard  impiety //e  to  itself,  and  render  a  forced 
 homage  to  the  eminent  services  due  to  the  labours 
 of  our  Missionaries,  and  to  this  truly  Apostolic 
 zeal  to  be  found  amongst  our  Pastors  only. 
 Have  you  need  of  other  motives  to  render  them 
 for  ever  dear  and  venerable  in  your  eyes?  What 
 Ministry  shall  ever  replace  their  Ministry? 
 What  laws  or  what  books  shall  ever  supply 
 them  ?  What  political  lever  shall  ever  raise  this 
 mass  of  corruption,  under  which  the  best  con- 
 stituted empire  must  one  day  sink?  And  what 
 gratitude  do  we  not  owe  to  Divine  Providence, 
 which  has  designed  to  reserve  for  us  this  precious 
 reinforcement  of  Evangelists  so  capable  of  stop- 
 ping the  torrent  of  vices  and  of  scandals,  with 
 which  we  are  on  all  sides  menaced!  Lend 
 yourselves  then  still  and  more  to  their  zeal — 
 render  yourselves  still  more  docile  to  their  in- 
 structions, and  now  more  than  ever  shut  your 
 ears  against  the  insinuations  of  their  criminal 
 detractors.     Do  not  fear  their  blasphemies,  (1) 
 
 (1)  Isai,  LI,  7. 
 
(  407  ) 
 
 sajs  the  Holj  Ghost :  they  onlj  unmask  them^ 
 and  fall  back  upon  their  own  heads.  They  fear 
 the  Missions— our  Missions  are  consequently 
 good  and  desirable.  They  persecute  our  Mis- 
 sionaries, our  Missionaries  are  then  men  of  infi- 
 nite value,  whom  you  cannot  approach  with  too 
 much  confidence,  nor  receive  with  too  much  ea- 
 gerness. This  is  the  best  reasoning  we  can  es- 
 tablish, and  the  surest  rule  you  have  to  follow. 
 The  consequence  is  infallible,  and  here  it  is  not 
 possible  to  deceive  ourselves. 
 
 The  fear  and  lively  anxiety  caused  by  our 
 Missions  amongst  the  Philosophers  and  Revolu- 
 tionists— the  daily  alarms  occasioned  by  their 
 success  in  the  enemy's  camps  — recall  to  our 
 minds  the  great  sensation  excited  amongst  the 
 Philosophers  and  Leaguers  of  the  last  century, 
 by  the  Mission  which  took  place  in  the  Capital, 
 during  the  jubilee-year,  1775,  and  which 
 operated  a  sensible  renovation  in  public  morals. 
 The  exercises  of  that  Mission  were  performed 
 with  the  greatest  .  edification,  and  the  solemn 
 processions  attended  with  an  almost  unexampled 
 affluence  of  people.  Never  did  piety  enjoy  a 
 more  consoling  spectacle — never  were  there 
 distributed  more  abundant  alms,  never  witnessed 
 a  greater  number  of  good  works,  or  of  striking 
 conversions.     But  what  account  will  Philoso- 
 
(  408  ) 
 
 phers  make  of  such  prodigies  of  grace?  What 
 matters  it  to  them,  that  libertines,  usurers,  bad 
 parents,  or  even  highway  robbers,  should  be 
 converted,  if  Reason  does  not  triumph,  and  if 
 lights  retrograde?  We  heard  one  of  the  heads 
 of  the  sect  disclose  his  anxieties  to  the  Patriarch 
 of  the  Free-thinkers.  Thus  he  writes  to  him, 
 in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul :  This  jubilee  has 
 caused  us  to  go  backwards  more  than  half  a 
 century:  one  jubilee  more^  and  our  cause  is 
 lost  for  ever.  (1)  This  is  what  we  daily  hear 
 from  the  impious  of  every  city  where  the 
 Mission  has  succeeded.  One  Mission  more,  and 
 our  cause  is  lost, — devotion,  enemy  of  our 
 lights,  will  narrow  every  mind,  and  fanaticism 
 will  become  more  ardent  than  ever.  Yet  ano- 
 ther Mission,  and  the  youth,  in  whom  we  placed 
 all  our  hopes,  will  be  rescued  from  us, — the 
 empire  of  the  Priesthood  will  revive,  and  ours 
 disappear  and  vanish, — every  marriage  will  be 
 blessed  by  the  Church,  and  every  misfortune 
 and  disorder  will  follow  those  benedictions. 
 One  Mission  more,  and  we  shall  retrograde  at 
 least  half  a  century. 
 
 This,    indeed,    is    what    will    happen,    Our 
 Dearly  Beloved    Brethren,    if    the  Missions  be 
 
 (1)  Correspond.  D'Alembert  and  Voltaire. 
 
(  409  ) 
 
 encouraged, — if  the  Apostles  of  Faith  and  Truth 
 receive  the  efficacious  protection  they  have  a 
 right  to  expect  in  the  Most  Christian  Kingdom. 
 Yes,  give  us  Missions,  and  our  cause  is  gained, 
 saj  the  true  Faithful,  and  all  men  of  worth. 
 Revive  those  Apostolic  Establishments,  so  well 
 calculated  to  repair  the  losses  of  the  Sanctuary, 
 by  giving  it  holy  Ministers.  Favour  those  holy 
 Schools,  destined  to  enlarge  the  dominion  of 
 the  Gospel,  wherein  good  morals  and  good 
 letters,  the  spirit  of  piety  and  study,  naturally 
 assist  and  perfect  each  other, —  where  our  youth 
 will  be  renewed,  and  public  education  purified, — 
 the  Monarchy  consolidated,  and  France  saved 
 from  its  ruin.  Give  back  its  vigour  to  the  holy 
 Ministry  of  the  Word, — restore  to  -it  the  au- 
 thority and  freedom  which  are  its  natural  ap- 
 pendages,— and  the  spirit  of  the  age,  however 
 determined  to  hold  against  us,  must  go  back- 
 wards, though  it  should  drag  us  into  the  abyss. 
 We  have  only  to  will  it,  and  to  say,  with 
 courage,  to  all  the  enlighten ers  of  the  age,  and 
 all  the  supporters  of  impiety,  that  neither  the 
 Monarchy,  nor  Legitimacy,  nor  the  August  Race 
 of  the  Rourbons,  nor  the  Catholic  Religion,  nor 
 the  Faith  of  Ages,  shall  recoil.  We  have  only 
 to  announce,  without  fear  or  subterfuge,  that 
 France  and  the  King  will  have  it  so.     God,  no 
 
(  410  ) 
 
 doubly  will  approve  what  the  King  and  France 
 shall  have  decreed,  —  he  will  bless  this  high 
 resolve,  by  giving  us  himself  both  to  will  and  to 
 accomplish, — he  will  forget  the  excess  of  our 
 iniquities,  and  appease  his  wrath, — he  will  again 
 become  for  us  the  God  of  Clovis,  of  Charlemagne, 
 and  of  Saint  Lewis, — with  his  merciful  hand  he 
 will  close  for  ever  the  abyss  of  the  Revolution, 
 and  he  will  say  to  this  deluge  of  misfortunes 
 and  crimes  it  has  poured  out  on  us :  Hither  shalt 
 thou  come  and  no  further,  and  here  shalt  thou 
 break  thy  swelling  waves: — Hue  usque  venies, 
 et  hie  coTifringes  tumentes  Jlactus  tuos. 
 
 Given  at  Paris,  where  we  are  detained  by  the 
 affairs  of  our  Diocess,  September  20,  1822. 
 
 ■j-  Stephen  Anthony,  Bishop  of  Troyes, 
 Elected  Archbishop  of  Vienne. 
 By  Order, 
 Constant  MigneauX;,  Canon  Secretary. 
 
(  411   ) 
 
 PANEGYRIC 
 
 OF 
 
 SAINT  VINCENT  OF  PAUL, 
 
 Spiritus  Domini  super  me .  . .  .ut  ■mederer  contritis  corde 
 . . .  .lit prcedicarem,  captivis  indulgentiam. .  .  .nt  conso- 
 larer  omnes  lugentes. 
 
 The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me. ...  to  heal  the  contrite 
 of  heart. ...  to  preach  a  release  to  the  captives. ...  to 
 comfort  all  that  mourn. 
 
 Isaias,  ch.  LXI,  ver.  1.— 2. 
 
 Such  are  the  striking  characters  in  which  the 
 Saviour  of  the  world  describes  the  object  and 
 success  of  his  mission.  Let  proud  philosophers 
 seek  to  dazzle  the  people  bj  brilliant  discourses — 
 let  conquerors  ambitiously  gather  their  laurels, 
 whilst  they  heap  ruins  on  ruins  ;  for  his  part,  his 
 glory  consists  in  breaking  our  chains,  and  his 
 triumpii  in  consoling  us.     His  friends   are  the 
 
(  412  ) 
 
 poor.  It  is  in  favour  of  the  afflicted  that  he 
 manifests  his  power,  and  his  heart  will  not  be 
 satisfied  unless  he  leave  behind  him  substitutes  of 
 his  mercy,  who,  full  of  his  own  spirit,  shall 
 serve,  from  age  to  age,  as  the  proofs  and  wit- 
 nesses of  this  oracle  of  the  Prophet  :  — ''  The 
 spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me.  . .  .to  heal  the 
 contrite  of  heart.  .  .  .to  preach  a  release  to  the 
 captives. . .  .to  comfort  all  that  mourn." 
 
 At  the  view  of  this  sublime  charity,  Christians, 
 you  already  name  its  most  accomplished  hero, 
 and  its  most  striking  model.  Every  heart  feels 
 itself  borne  towards  St.  Vincent  of  Paul — Yin- 
 cent  of  Paul,  to  whom  God  gave  this  immensity 
 of  heart,  this  soul,  as  expansive  as  the  limits  of 
 the  ocean  ;  (1)  which  rejects  no  prayer,  and  can 
 supply  all  wants — which,  burning  as  it  were  with 
 the  passion  of  doing  good,  undertakes  at  once  to 
 wage  war  against  all  the  vices,  and  carry  succour 
 to  all  kinds  of  misfortune.  Devoting  himself  by 
 turns  to  the  glory  of  the  Temple  and  the  assist- 
 ance of  the  cottage,  we  behold  in  him  suc- 
 cessively the  country  Missioner  and  the  oracle  of 
 the  Holy  See— the  catechist  of  children  and  the 
 legislator  of  the  clergy  —  the  humblest  in  the 
 
 (1)  Bedit  Dens  latitudinem  cordis,  arenam  qua  est  in 
 littore  maris. — III.  Rings,  IV;,  29. 
 
(  413  ) 
 
 house  of  God,  now  the  protector  of  our  churches, 
 and  so  revered  by  all  that  his  solemnity  is  be- 
 come a  national  feast,  wherein  country  and 
 Religion  seem  to  rival  with  each  other  in  the 
 applauses  they  bestow  on  him. 
 
 What  do  you  expect  from  me.  Christians?  Is 
 it  a  discourse,  or  a  history  ;  the  spirit  of  his  vir- 
 tues, or  the  recital  of  his  actions  ?  Must  we  here 
 multiply  reflexions  or  facts,  confine  ourselves  to 
 narration,  or  aspire  to  move  you  ?  Should  we 
 rather  flatter  the  ear  of  curiosity  than  interest 
 the  heart  of  feeling?  My  Brethren,  you  are 
 already  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  life  of 
 Vincent  of  Paul:  you  could  not  walk  through 
 this  capital  without  meeting  some  vestige  of  his 
 charity  and  his  zeal.  If  our  tongues  could  be 
 silent,  the  stones  themselves  would  speak  for  his 
 glory  and  his  triumph.  Let  us  then  rather  yield 
 to  the  emotions  of  eloquence  than  to  the  details 
 of  history  ;  or  rather  let  eloquence  be  forgotten, 
 provided  our  hearts  be  touched.  Let  us  endea- 
 vour to  praise  him  without  art,  as  he  has  loved 
 without  measure  ;  to  infuse,  if  possible,  into  his 
 panegyric  a  portion  of  the  overflowing  unction 
 with  which  his  soul  was  penetrated,  and  thus  put 
 no  bounds  to  sentiment,  as  he  never  put  any  to 
 his  zeal  and  tenderness. 
 
 Far  from  us  those  haughty  spirits  who  feel  no 
 
(  414  ) 
 
 interest  save  in  the  din  of  revolutions  and  the 
 pomp  of  spectacles !  The  eulogy  of  St.  Vincent 
 of  Paul  can  never  fix  their  attention.  Limited 
 as  we  are  to  events  as  simple  as  his  life,  as  ob- 
 scure as  his  ministry  ;  obliged  to  follow  him 
 amongst  the  poor,  the  sick,  the  prisoners,  aban- 
 doned children,  disconsolate  mothers,  the  aged 
 and  infirm;  not  being  able  to  praise  one  of  his 
 virtues  without  recalUng  at  the  same  time  to 
 mind  some  misfortune  or  calamity,  we  could  not 
 present  them  those  brilliant  features  which  dazzle, 
 or  those  commotions  which  astound.  But  what 
 matters  to  us  their  indifference,  if  feeling  souls 
 listen  and  answer  to  our  appeals?  Woe  to  us, 
 if  we  should  fear  to  recount  what  charity  has  not 
 blushed  to  perform,  or  if  we  ever  should  forget 
 that  it  is  the  Queen  of  Virtues  that  aggrandizes 
 and  ennobles  the  eloquence  which  celebrates  her 
 praises,  and  the  heroism  which  reduces  her 
 precepts  into  practice  ! 
 
 What  have  I  said,  Christians;  wliat  picture 
 more  capable  of  inflaming  our  hearts,  and  of 
 commanding  our  admiration,  than  that  of  a  simple 
 Priest,  from  whose  hands  flow  so  abundantly 
 more  than  Royal  alms  ;  who  appeared  in  France 
 during  half  a  century,  as  it  were,  public  charity 
 and  Providence  personified  ;  who,  alone  and  un- 
 aided, raised  more  useful  monuments  than  the 
 
(  415  ) 
 
 most  fruitful  genius  could  have  conceived  pro- 
 jects, whose  intrepid  zeal  continually  struggled 
 against  united  scourges  and  the  conspiring  ele- 
 ments— whose  charity,  in  a  word,  as  active  as 
 provident,  embracing  at  once  the  present  and 
 the  future,  presents  to  us  an  image  of  the  good- 
 ness, the  grandeur,  the  magnificence,  and  the 
 power  of  God  himself? 
 
 Such,  then,  is  the  double  view  in  which  we 
 are  going  to  exhibit  Vincent  of  Paul.  We  shall 
 show  him  to  jou  as  the  benefactor  of  his  age, 
 the  benefactor  of  future  generations,  and  not  less 
 admirable  in  the  exercise  than  in  the  success  of 
 his  charity  ;  great  by  all  the  generous  virtues 
 which  adorned  his  soul,  still  greater  by  all  the 
 precious  establishments  to  which  he  gave  exist- 
 ence. In  a  word  :  charity  of  St.  Vincent  of  Paul 
 and  all  he  has  done  to  practise  it — charity  of  St. 
 Vincent  of  Paul  and  all  he  has  done  to  perpe- 
 tuate it.      Such  is  the  plan  of  this  discourse. 
 
 And  how  delightful  to  us  to  pronounce  it  in 
 this  new  Temple,  (1)  especially  consecrated  to 
 the  God  of  charity,  to  the  Father  of  Mercies  ;  in 
 this  holy  house,  the  very  name  of  which  must 
 interest  every  generous  soul  and  every  French 
 heart ;   new  asylum  opened  to  misfortune  and 
 
 (1)  The  Hospital  of  Marie-Therese,  Paris. 
 
(  416  ) 
 
 human  infirmities  by  hands  as  active  as  ihey  are 
 industrious,  and  directed  by  a  charity  not  less 
 indefatigable  in  its  cares  than  admirable  in  its 
 means  —  monument  worthy  to  rank  amongst 
 those  raised  by  the  holy  Priest,  every  stone  of 
 which  seems  to  bear  this  sacred  inscription  ;  — 
 God  and  the  King  I  Yes,  its  prosperity  will  be 
 zealously  advanced  by  this  noble  and  pious  as- 
 sembly, still  more  eager  to  imitate  the  virtues  of 
 our  Saint,  than  to  hear  his  panegyric.  Happy 
 should  we  ourselves  feel,  if,  in  recompense  of  all 
 our  efforts,  we  could  render  ourselves  this  con- 
 soling testimony,  that  abundant  succours  and 
 generous  offerings  are  this  day  to  crown  them. 
 And  indeed,  if  we  needed  a  new  encouragement 
 to  excite  our  zeal  and  animate  our  charity  in 
 favour  of  this  beautiful  Eslablishment,  what 
 more  powerful  incentive  than  the  example  of  its 
 august  Protectress,  (1)  angel  of  reconciliation 
 still  left  us  by  Heaven  as  the  happy  pledge  of  its 
 mercy  ;  and  the  presence  of  this  heroic  Prin- 
 cess, (2)  still  greater  than  her  misfortunes — 
 modern  Blanche,  whose  miraculous  child,  (3) 
 object  of  our  love  and  of  our  hopes,  is  already 
 
 (1)  The  Duchess  of  Angouleiiie. 
 
 (2)  The  Duchess  of  Berry. 
 
 (3)  The  Duke  of  Bordeaux. 
 
(  VI T) 
 
 the  friend  of  ihe  poor,  like  his  revered  mother, 
 and  like  Her  shall  one  day  be  the  living  image 
 of  the  God  of  charity,  of  the  God  who  has  given 
 him  to  us  P  (1 ) 
 
 FIRST  PART. 
 
 Divine  Providence,  ever  awake  to  the  glory  of 
 Vincent,  granted  him  the  privilege  of  being  born 
 without  ancestors.  Whether  it  was  that  God  was 
 pleased  to  confound  human  vanity  by  showing  us 
 the  greatest  of  souls  formed  in  the  very  bosom  of 
 obscurity — or  that  He  had  intended  to  teach  us, 
 by  a  great  example,  that  fortune  does  nothing 
 for  the  Hero  whom  Religion  inspires — or  that 
 He  wished,  in  fine,  to  lend  a  new  lustre  to  the 
 virtues  of  Vincent  by  the  great  distance  which 
 separated  his  origin  from  the  elevation  he  was 
 one  day  to  attain  :  under  the  humble  roof  of  a 
 labourer  was  born  the  future  ornament  of  his 
 age,  and  the  most. distinguished  benefactor  of 
 his  country. 
 
 Do  not  expect;.  My  Brethren,  that  I  will  here 
 recount  by  what  chain  of  events  the  Lord  con- 
 ducted him  from  his  childhood  to  the  Sanctuary ; 
 nor  how,  when  thrown  by  an  unforeseen  stroke 
 
 (1)  Dieu-donne—gift  of  God,  one  of  the  names  he  bears 
 in  memory  of  his  providential  birth. 
 
 D  D 
 
(  418  ) 
 
 of  fortune  into  the  hands  of  pirates,  and  hurried 
 off  to  a  barbarous  clime,  he  there  wore  the  irons 
 of  captivity.  We  shall  not  tell  jou  by  what 
 miracle  Heaven  broke  his  chains,  who  was  one 
 day  to  break  or  soften  those  of  so  many  others ; 
 nor  how,  during  the  two  years  of  his  slavery,  he 
 made  the  first  essay  of  his  Aposlleship,  by  bring- 
 ing" back  his  Master  to  the  faith  of  his  forefathers 
 by  the  sole  impressions  of  his  celestial  canticles. 
 We  will  pass  over  in  silence  his  heroic  labours 
 in  the  Parish  of  Clichi,  wherein  nothiog  equals 
 the  success  of  his  charily  save  that  of  his  instruc- 
 tions— where,  in  less  than  one  year,  he  finds  the 
 means  of  re-establishing  sacred  worship,  and  of 
 building  an  august  temple.  Appointed  to  govern 
 a  new  Flock,  we  shall  not  stop  to  relate  the  new 
 prodigies  he  performs  at  Ghatillon-les-Dombes, 
 and  how  in  six  months  he  there  efi'ecluates  the 
 entire  regeneration  of  a  parish  abandoned  for 
 half  a  century  before.  This  might  serve  for  the 
 panegyric  of  another;  it  is  the  feeblest  ray  of 
 Yincent's  glory.  Still  greater  objects  hurry  us 
 along;  let  us  liasten  to  transport  ourselves  with 
 him  to  the  Capital,  where  Providence  calls  him. 
 Placed  in  this  vortex  of  affairs  and  pleasures, 
 Vincent  only  perceives  great  disorders  to  be  re- 
 paired, great  scandals  to  be  removed.  He  is 
 already  distinguished  by  Francis  of  Sales  ;  al- 
 
( ^10 ) 
 
 ready  those  two  sublime  souls  seek,  discover  each 
 other,  and  become  mutually  attached.  Vincent, 
 struck  with  the  mild  majesty  which  shone  on  the 
 features  of  the  holy  Bishop  of  Geneva,  imagines, 
 as  he  himself  says  it,  he  contemplates  in  him  the 
 Saviour  of  the  world  conversing-  amongst  men. 
 Francis  of  Sales  discerns  in  Vincent  of  Paul  zeal 
 united  to  prudence,  science  embellished  by 
 candour,  and  the  divine  art  of  governing  souls. 
 The  one  chooses  for  rule  and  model  the  most 
 holy  of  Pontiffs — the  other  confides  to  the  most 
 virtuous  of  Priests  the  direction  of  the  Daughters 
 of  the  Visitation  with  whom  he  had  lately  en- 
 riched the  cliurch.  Their  progress  in  piety  will 
 soon  prove  to  him  that  a  more  precious  deposit 
 was  never  intrusted  to  abler  hands. 
 '  In  the  midst  of  those  noble  pursuits,  he  con- 
 ceives a  new  design  ;  he  beholds  all  made  for 
 cities,  and  knowledge  there  abounding,  whilst 
 theinhabitantof  the  country,  deprived  of  instruc- 
 tion, grows  old  in  ignorance,  and  dies  without 
 consolation.  Struck  with  all  those  misfortunes^, 
 Vincent  exclaims,  in  the  words  of  the  Saviour  : 
 I  feel  compassion  for  these  poor  people,  for  these 
 good  people,  so  eager  for  instruction  and  so 
 capable  of  virtuous  impressions  :  misereor  super 
 turbam.  All  his  solicitude  turns  towards  the 
 country.     But  what  can  he  do  alone  in  order  to 
 
 D  D  * 
 
rend  the  veil  of  ignorance  which  covers  il?  He 
 said  —  and  numbers  of  Evangelical  Labourers 
 come  crowding  to  his  standards,  and  associate 
 themselves  to  his  zeal.  Already  are  established, 
 bj  his  means,  those  celebrated  conferences 
 which  united  together  all  that  the  sanctuary  then 
 possessed  in  learning  and  virtue.  Here  it  was 
 that  Bossuet  preluded  his  triumphs — here  this 
 voung  eagle  tried  his  wing  and  essayed  the 
 thunder-bolt.  "  Vincent,"  says  this  great  man, 
 "  was  the  soul  of  those  assemblies,  through  which 
 he  diffused  unction  and  light:  pium  ccctum 
 animahat  T^incentius .  Here,  raising  his  thoughts 
 to  the  elevation  of  his  sentiments,  he  fixes  the  true 
 sense  of  the  Scriptures,  recalls  the  ancient  spirit 
 of  Religion,  the  sacred  rules  of  the  Prieslliood, 
 and  the  true  end  of  sacred  eloquence.  And  what 
 then  used  the  holy  Priest  to  say  to  them?  That  they 
 should  prepare,  by  the  purity  of  their  lives^  the 
 great  effects  of  their  discourses  -,  that  the  autho- 
 rity of  virtue  alone  can  maintain  the  authority  of 
 the  word  ;  that  science  inflates,  and  that  charity 
 edijies ;  that  true  eloquence  disdains  eloquence; 
 in  a  word, ''  that  prajer  is  to  the  Preacher  what 
 their  arms  are  to  the  Soldier  and  to  the  General. '^ 
 Penetrated  with  these  maxims,  simple  in  them- 
 selves, but  more  instructive  than  books,  these 
 men  of  God  went  forth  from  this  new  upper  room 
 
(  421   ) 
 
 lo  renew    I  he  labours  and  the  prodigies  of  ihe 
 first  Disciples.   Like  them,  ihej  visit  the  humble 
 hamlet,  break  the  bread  of  the  word  under  the 
 rustic  roof,  circuibant  per  castella;  like  them, 
 thej  sow  the  good  grain  everj  where,  and  reap 
 wherever  thej  sow.     How  beautiful  are  the  feet 
 of  them  that  preach  the  gospel  of  peace,  of  them 
 that  bring  glad  tidings  of  good  things,  (1 )   Listen 
 to  those  long  laments  sent  forth  bj  the  spirit  of 
 compunction  ;  behold  this  holy  horror   spread 
 over  every  countenance,  those  hardened  sinners 
 who  return,  like  those  of  the  Gospel,  striking 
 their  breasts,  those  irreconcilable  families  now 
 swearin"-  to   each  other  an  eternal  friendship. 
 Such  are  the  miracles  of  their  zeal,  supported  by 
 the  miracles  of  their  charity.     Feeble  Orators  of 
 Capitals  and  of  Courts,  what  are  we  in  presence 
 of  those  Apostolic  men?     They  appear,  and  an 
 immense  crowd  follows  them— they  speak,  and 
 this  crowd  surrenders.    Does  Vincent  send  them 
 to  instruct  our  warriors  ?   Four  thousand  soldiers 
 bow  their  heads   to  the  yoke  of  penance  and 
 renew  the  virtues  of  the  first  Christian  Legions. 
 Does  he  send  them  to  the  Cevennes,  (2)  where 
 error    and  revolt  seemed  to    have  fixed   their 
 
 (1)  Qudm  spec losi  pedes  evangelizantium  pacem,  evan- 
 gelizantium  bona. — Rom.  X. 
 
 (2)  Mountains  of  Languedoc  in  France. 
 
(  422  ) 
 
 strong-hold  ?  At  their  voice,  the  spirit  of  schism 
 is  extinguished,  the  strayed  flocks  abandon  their 
 false  Pastors,  and  the  ramparts  of  lieresj  fall, 
 like  those  of  Jericho,  at  the  sound  of  their  Evan- 
 gelical trumpets.  Do  thej  undertake  to  visit  the 
 hospitals,  and  there  give  instructions  not  less 
 necessary  than  the  succours  of  art?  Eight  hun- 
 dred Mahometans  do  not  hesitate  to  open  their 
 eyes  to  the  light,  and  renounce  their  false  Pro- 
 phet. So  powerful,  so  sovereign  is  zeal  when 
 united  to  goodness !  So  true  it  is,  that  the  secret 
 of  persuasion  lies  in  the  empire  of  virtue  and  the 
 ascendency  of  example! 
 
 But  what  are  those  new  colonies  now  prepar- 
 ing to  depart  for  new  climates  ?  Vincent  has 
 raised  his  ejes,  according  to  the  expression  of 
 the  Gospel,  and  has  discovered  from  afar  new 
 fruits  to  be  gathered,  a  new  harvest  to  be  reaped. 
 He  saw,  in  Ireland,  the  Children  of  the  Faith 
 ever  in  danger  of  losing  it  by  suggestion  or  vio- 
 lence— in  Poland  and  in  Italy,  the  poor  and 
 plague-struck  demanding  aloud  the  ministers  of 
 consolation — at  Tunis  and  Algiers,  victims  of  op- 
 pression watering  with  their  tears  their  heart- 
 rending chains  —  in  Madagascar,  an  immense 
 country  seated  in  the  shades  of  death,  which 
 only  awaits  Preachers  for  the  propagation  of  the 
 light.     These  woes  and  these  wants  are  great; 
 
(  423  ) 
 
 but  his  soul  is  still  greater,  and  will  provide  tor 
 them.  In  vain  has  Cromwell  sworn  the  destruc- 
 tion of  the  Catholics  :  the  hypocritical  tyrant 
 may  hinder  kings  from  succouring  a  king ;  he 
 shall  not  prevent  Vincent  from  succouring  the 
 poor.  In  vain  Earth  and  Heaven,  and  men  and 
 elements  shall  thwart  his  zeal  in  the  mission  of 
 Madagascar ;  in  vain  his  Missioners  are  thrice 
 buried  in  the  waves  :  Vincent  will. not  command 
 the  winds  and  tempests,  but  in  despite  of  the 
 winds  and  tempests,  he  will  send  forth  new  Apos- 
 tles, and  if  success  does  not  crown  his  efforts,  he 
 will  at  least  prove  that  Heaven  may  disconcert 
 his  enterprises,  but  not  his  courage  —  that  his 
 charity  is  as  strong  as  death,  and  that  his  zeal  is 
 as  invincible  as  the  ocean  is  untameable  :  aqucv 
 multce  lion  potiierunt  extinguere  cantatem. 
 
 And  here,  Christians,  whom  should  we  the 
 more  admire  ?  Is  it  Vincent  who  never  fails  to 
 find,  on  the  occasion,  those  Apostolic  men,  or 
 those  Apostolic  men  ever  faithful  and  docile  to 
 his  call?  By  what  secret  charm  did  he  inspire 
 them  with  so  many  virtues  and  so  much  courage? 
 Let  us  this  day  celebrate  those  Martyrs  of  mercy 
 and  of  truth :  praise  and  honour  be  for  ever 
 given  to  those  miraculous  Conquerors  now 
 named,  perhaps  through  disdain,  Missionaries  ! 
 
(  424  } 
 
 What  inoffable  sentiment  animated  their  sublime 
 souls?  If  humanity,  if  virtue,  if  sound  philoso- 
 phy are  jet  esteemed  here  below,  what  is  there 
 more  worthy  of  our  admiration  than  their  heroic 
 labours?  To  bid*farewell  to  repose — to  cross 
 the  torrents,  the  seas  and  immense  deserts  — to 
 speak  to  men  for  whom  the  spectacle  of  the 
 universe  is  dumb — to  unite  their  wandering  fa- 
 milies, seek  them  in  the  depth  of  forests,  follow 
 them  to  ihe  summit  of  their  mountains,  pursue 
 them  across  abysses,  fix  and  establish  them  in 
 despite  of  their  inconstancy,  soften  them  not- 
 withstanding their  barbarity — to  create  for  them 
 at  once  a  heart,  a  soul,  a  morality,  a  worship, 
 and  a  country;  and  all  those  efforts  of  mag- 
 nanimous constancy,  without  any  return  of  self- 
 interest,  without  any  other  incentive  than  that 
 
 of  Man's  happiness Assuredly, 
 
 Christians,  something  divine  is  here  !  How  hap- 
 pened it  that  mankind  did  not  fall  prostrate 
 before  those  men,  or  those  Gods?  That  bril- 
 liant adventurers,  with  the  double  ambition  of 
 fortune  and  of  glory,  should  have  undertaken  to 
 conquer  the  world — all  this  is  human  and  even 
 vulgar  ;  but  that  men  should  brave  so  many 
 perils,  should  devote  themselves  to  so  many  sa- 
 crifices, without  any  olher  motive  than  the  love 
 
(  425  ) 
 
 of  truth,  without  any  other  hope  than  that  of 
 martyrdom  —  this  is  the  first  miracle  of  human 
 heroism,  and  the  fairest  triumph  of  the  Religion 
 which  inspires  it. 
 
 After  having  been  the  Missionary  of  the  poor, 
 Vincent  of  Paul  is  now  going  to  prove  himself 
 their  Tutor  and  their  Father.  Henceforward, 
 all  their  wants  will  become  those  of  his  own 
 heart.  In  the  eyes  of  an  ordinary  charity  the 
 poor  indeed  are  men  ;  in  those  of  Vincent  of  Paul 
 it  would  seem  that  there  are  no  men  save  the  un- 
 fortunate. As  long  as  any  shall  remain  on  earth, 
 he  will  taste  no  joy,  no  repose  ;  ihey  shall  be,  ac- 
 cording to  his  own  feeling  expression,  h/s  burden 
 and  his  grief.  But  what  can  he  do  to  assist  them  in 
 the  midst  of  so  much  misery?  He  Jjegins  by  in- 
 teresting in  their  behalf  the  feebler  sex,  Heaven 
 seems  to  have  created  for  sensibility,  and  which 
 finds  in  its  very  weakness  the  most  powerful 
 spring  of  its  commiseration.  He  assembles  around 
 him  the  purest  and  the  most  zealous  of  the  Chris- 
 tian women,  and  thereby  forms  those  charitable 
 meetings,  of  which  he  had  no  where  found  the 
 model,  and  yet  this  means  was  so  efficacious  and 
 withal  so  simple,  that  we  this  day  ask  with  sur- 
 prise how  no  one  had  until  then  imagined  it. 
 There,  under  the  auspices  of  Vincent,  were 
 agitated,  not  questions  of  policy,  but  the  grander 
 
(  42(>  ) 
 
 interests  of  humanity.  There,  the  poor,  always 
 sure  to  be  heard,  went  to  plead  their  cause. 
 Was  it  necessary  to  gather  the  orphans,  to  ran- 
 som the  captives,  or  to  endow  the  virgin — was  it 
 iii  ocssary  to  procure  labour  for  indigent  in- 
 dustry, to  estabhsh  a  country  school,  to  support 
 a  declining  hospital,  to  repair  the  losses  occa- 
 sioned by  shipwrecks,  or  the  rigour  of  the  sea- 
 sons, or  else  to  aid  a  family  on  the  verge  of  ruin 
 — Vincent  in  the  midst  of  those  assemblies,  as 
 if  in  the  centre  of  charity,  directed  all  and  pro- 
 vided for  all. 
 
 Let  us  not,  however,  imagine  that  those  other 
 Paulas,  those  modern  Marcellas,  raised  up  by 
 the  Holy  Priest,  distinguished  themselves  by 
 their  abundant  alms  only :  Vincent  so  often 
 repeated  to  them  that  they  should  serve  God  at 
 the  expense  of  their  strength,  and  by  the  sweat 
 of  their  brow,  that  no  fatigue  discouraged,  no 
 service  affrighted  them,  whenever  ^charity  de- 
 manded their  cares  or  their  labours.  How  de- 
 lightful to  contemplate  this  heroic  confederation 
 of  more  than  two  hundred  illustrious  ladies, 
 armed  with  the  code  of  charity,  traced  out  to 
 them  by  Vincent  of  Paul,  choosing  for  the 
 theatre  of  their  zeal  the  Hotel-Dieu  of  the 
 capital,  and  forming  the  generous  design  of 
 thence  extirpating  all  abuses,  of  re-establishing 
 
(  427  ) 
 
 its  discipline,  and  of  rendering  this  abode,  so 
 dreary,  alas  I  for  the  indigent,  the  sweet  solace 
 of  their  misery,  the  happy  term  of  their  old 
 age!  Heaven,  no  doubt,  rejoiced  as  the  Earlh 
 was  astonished  at  the  sight  of  so  many  valiant 
 women,  (1)  visiting,  from  rank  to  rank,  each 
 couch  of  languor;  humbling  their  souls,  as  the 
 Holy  Ghost  says  it,  before  the  poor  and  infirm  ; 
 disputing  with  each  other  the  prize  of  activity 
 and  compassion;  and,  noble  rivals  of  the  con- 
 secrated Virgins,  mingling  with  all  the  succours 
 of  humanity,  all  the  consolations  of  religion. 
 Ah!  it  is  then,  indeed,  we  might  justly  call  this 
 refuge  of  misery  the  House  of  God!  It  was  the 
 most  beautiful  of  his  temples — every  thing  there- 
 in breathed  his  bounty — the  poor  no  longer 
 doubted  of  a  Providence,  and,  for  the  first  time, 
 desired  therein  to  die,  happy  to  find,  amidst  the 
 consoling  cares  of  those  divine  souls^  the  first- 
 fruits  and  foretaste  of  Eternal  Mercy ! 
 
 But  the  charity  of  Vincent  was  not  destined  to 
 confine  itself  to  the  alleviation  of  particular 
 misfortunes,  however  great  and  multiplied.  It 
 was  little  for  him  to  succour  numberless  families, 
 and  entire  parishes — his  still  increasing  charity, 
 or  rather  (shall  I  say  it?)  his  indefatigable  Pro- 
 
 (1)  Prov.  XXXI. 
 
(  -'-28  ) 
 
 vidence,  is  now  to  nourish  entire  Slates.  A  prey 
 to  five  different  nations,  disputing  with  each 
 other  the  glory  or  the  shame  of  laying  them 
 waste,  the  Duchies  of  Lorraine  and  Bar  are  no 
 longer  but  one  theatre  of  horror,  one  scene  of 
 all  those  miseries  that  have  ever  been  deplored 
 hy  the  lamentations  of  the  Prophets.  It  is  no 
 longer  tlie  beauty  of  Sion  sadly  darkened — her 
 streets  in  mourning — her  Temples  razed  — her 
 Priests  weeping,  and  her  Virgins  disconsolate. — 
 No;  we  have  here  to  behold  every  species  of 
 cruelty  united  to  every  species  of  profanation, 
 and  all  the  woes  of  anarchy  with  all  the  scourges 
 of  nature.  Tlie  flames  have  consumed  what 
 had  escaped  the  sword — contagion  devours  what 
 escapes  from  famine — we  no  longer  behold  in 
 the  country  but  deserts,  in  the  city  but  ruins — 
 every  where  men remnants  of  men — chil- 
 dren expiring  on  the  bosom  of  llieir  mothers; 
 
 mothers Oh,  Heaven  I   shall  I  here  relate 
 
 their  horrid  nourishment?  What  alms,  what 
 succours,  what  miracles,  shall  suffice  for  such 
 calamities?  Who  command  sufficient  strength, 
 and  courage,  and  power,  and  riches,  to  repair 
 them? — The  poor  Priest,  Vincent  of  Paul. 
 Another  Joseph,  he  will  save  another  Egypt. 
 True  it  is,  indeed,  that,  like  the  Minister  of 
 Pharaoh,  lie  has  not  foreseen  the  days  of  famine 
 
(  -'i29  ) 
 
 and  sterility;  like  him,  he  possesses  not  ac- 
 cumulated treasures,  nor  seven  years'  harvests 
 in  reserve,  but  he  possesses  more — his  tried  zeal, 
 his  all-sufficing  charity,  and  those  funds  of  Pro- 
 vidence, which  never  failed  him.  In  vain  is  he 
 told  that  he  should  not  succour  the  enemies  of 
 the  nation  :  Vincent  replies,  that  though  Lor- 
 raine be  the  enemy  of  France,  its  suffering" 
 inhabitants  are  the  friends  of  God.  Full  of  this 
 fine  feeling,  he  flies  to  their  aid  j  he  sends  them 
 Ministers  of  peace  to  raise  the  standard  of  charity 
 in  the  region  of  discord,  and  carry  life  into  this 
 vast  tomb.  By  turns,  Physiciaris  and  Pastors 
 healing  and  teaching;  —  placed  between  the 
 dying  and  the  dead,  to  assist  the  ones  and  bury 
 the  others  ; — here,  distributing  ornaments  for 
 the  Altars; — there,  instruments  of  agriculture ;  — 
 raising  at  once  the  cottage  and  the  temple  ; — they 
 show  themselves  doubly  worthy  of  Vincent. 
 More  than  twenty-five  thousand  relieved  from 
 distress  load  him  with  their  benedictions.  Lor- 
 raine respires — and  what  all  the  power  of 
 sovereigns  could  not  have  undertaken,  Vincent 
 of  Paul  has  accomplished  without  any  other  aid 
 than  his  virtue,  any  other  credit  than  his  zeal. 
 
 Have  I  not  here  exaggerated.  My  Brethren? 
 And  do  you  not  imagine .  that  I  have  been  less 
 guided  by  truth  than  hurried  on  by  enthusiasm? 
 
(  430  ) 
 
 I  am  not  astonished,  Christians,  that  you  should 
 be  tempted  to  believe  it.  But,  what  shall  be 
 your  admiration,  when  you  shall  have  learned 
 that  it  was  not  by  transitory  succours  the  holy 
 Priest  distinguished  himself  in  those  deplorable 
 times; — but  that  he  bore  during  several  years 
 this  immense  burden?  When  you  shall  be  told 
 that,  whilst  he  poured  out  incalculable  alms  on 
 these  sad  regions,  he  sent  off  new  treasures  to 
 the  provinces  cT  Artois,  Le  Maine,  Augoumois, 
 and  Berry ;  and  that,  whilst  his  children  were 
 there  generously  distributing  the  gifts  of  mercy, 
 he  himself  welcomed,  succoured,  entertained 
 the  Exiles  of  EraN  then  flying  from  persecution, 
 and  the  refugees  of  Lorraine  who  had  escaped 
 from  famine;  and  numerous  communities  which 
 wanted  a  retreat  and  even  bread;  and  entire 
 legions  of  our  soldiers,  forgotten  by  the  country 
 for  which  they  were  shedding  their  blood. — 
 Munificent,  inconceivable  charity,  and  which 
 would  indeed  appear  fabulous,  if  authentic 
 monuments  did  not  still  attest  its  existence,  if 
 we  did  not  hold,  as  it  were,  to  the  generation 
 that  witnessed  its  prodigies. 
 
 But,  My  Brethren,  we  must  grow  familiar 
 with  miracles,  for  new  calamities  are  now  to 
 beget  new  wonders.  Picardy  is  at  the  last 
 extremity,  and  Champagne  is  going  to  renew 
 
(  ^31   ) 
 
 within  its  bosom  all  the  calamities  of  Lorraine  — 
 war  without  and  war  within.  Already  Vincent 
 of  Paul  has  heard  that  every  thing  therein  re- 
 traces the  image  of  death;  that  the  eye  can 
 only  meet  famished  phantoms;  that  distress  is 
 there  at  its  height ;  and  that  one  moment's  delay 
 might  bring  on  incalculable  evils.  He  has 
 heard  it,  and  he  will  prove  that,  though  the  evil 
 be  beyond  all  expression,  the  remedy  is  not 
 above  his  strength.  He  immediately  convokes 
 his  pious  assembly — he  presses,  he  insists,  he 
 conjures.  If  his  words  have  no  effect,  he  will 
 make  his  tears  speak.  The  more  difficulties 
 theyjexpose  to  him,  the  more  resources  has  he 
 already  discovered.  Heaven  will  sooner  grow 
 fatigued  with  scourging,  than  Vincent  with 
 giving,  assisting;  and  bestowing.  During  more 
 than  ten  years,  successively,  these  ill-fated 
 Provinces  behold  their  misfortunes  returning; 
 during  more  than  ten  years,  Vincent  of  Paul 
 multiplies  and  lavishes  his  succours.  By  what 
 admirable  industry  could  he  then  augment  his 
 means,  in  proportion  to  the  necessities?  Where 
 did  he  learn  the  magic  secret  of  nourishing  this 
 never-failing  contribution,  which  meets  every 
 calamity?  Christians,  in  the  treasure  of  his 
 economies,  his  privations  and  his  sacrifices;  in 
 the   daily   retrenchments   imposed  on   his   own 
 
(  432  ) 
 
 children,  who,  like  him,  often  wanted  the 
 necessaries  of  life;  in  this  attractive  sweetness  to 
 which  you  could  refuse  nothing — in  I  know  not 
 what  divine  art  of  teaching,  of  inspiring  com- 
 passion— in  I  know  not  what  lavish  confidence  in 
 Heaven  which  never  deceived  him  — in  I  know 
 not  what  ineffable  power,  not  indeed  of  mul- 
 tiplying the  nourishment  of  starving  multitudes, 
 not  of  changing  stones  into  bread,  but  of  mul- 
 tiplying charitable  souls,  but  of  changing  the 
 hearts  of  the  rich,  and  holding  them  in  his 
 hands  as  the  Lord  holds  those  of  kings. 
 
 Let  us,  My  Brethren,  forget,  if  possible,  the 
 past  achievements  of  Vincent.  He  will  not 
 thereby  appear  less  great,  less  admirable.  For 
 the  people,  itis  only  a  commencement  of  sorrows; 
 for  Vincent,  only  a  commencement  of  labours 
 and  of  glory.  It  would  appear  that  Heaven,  in 
 order  to  exhibit  him  to  the  world,  was  then 
 pleased  to  multiply  misfortunes,  and  proportion 
 its  scourges  to  his  compassion  and  tenderness. 
 No  — we  can  never  forget  that  period  of  national 
 phrenzy,  unexplicable  miscellany  of  ridiculous 
 adventures  and  bloody  catastrophes — that  period 
 of  civil  discords  excited  by  factious  patriots, 
 wherein  each,  hurried  on  beyond  his  own  mea- 
 sure, passed  continually,  and  often  in  the  seme 
 dav,  from  revolt  to  submission,  and  from  sub- 
 
(  433  ) 
 
 mission  to  revolt.  (1 )  The  best  characters  them- 
 selves went  onward  blindly,  without  knowing 
 whilher  thej  were  borne  by  contradictory  pre- 
 tensions; and  the  State  in  fine,  shaken  in  its 
 very  foundations,  was  agitated  with  convulsions 
 so  much  the  more  deplorable  as  the  cause  and 
 remedy  of  the  evil  were  equally  unknown. 
 Strange  revolution,  which,  by  a  singularity  un- 
 known to  our  annals,  was  not  less  calamitous 
 in  its  consequences  than  frivolous  in  its  object. 
 Amidst  those  wild  agitations,  and  those  vain  and 
 cruel  and  deplorable  factions,  we  need  not  ask 
 on  what  side  stood  Vincent  of  Paul.  My  Bre- 
 thren, he  stood  for  God,  for  the  King,  and  for 
 the  poor — the  poor,  alas!  ever  victims  of  the 
 interests  of  the  rich,  and  then  especially  paying 
 hy  lamentable  misfortunes  their  most  frivolous 
 pretensions!  Whilst  the  Princes  cabal  and 
 Ministers  negociate,  the  unfortunate  are  languish- 
 ing at  the  very  gates  of  death.  Vincent  of  Paul 
 is  witness  of  this  sad  state  of  affairs — he  beholds 
 a  crowd  of  innocent  victims  involved  in  the 
 proscription  of  the  guilty — the  city  of  pleasures 
 plunged  on  a  sudden  into  an  abyss  of  horrors — 
 and  the  Princess  of  the  Provinces  changed  into 
 an  abode  of  desolation  and  mourning.  At  this 
 spectacle,    the   bowels   of    his   tenderness   are 
 
 (1)  La  Fronde. 
 
 E   E 
 
(  434  ) 
 
 moved,  and  be  labours  to  recall  all  minds  to 
 peace  and  all  bearts  to  pity.  After  having 
 wept  at  the  foot  of  the  Altar  over  the  iniquities 
 of  the  people,  he  will  now  weep  at  the  foot  of 
 the  Throne  over  their  misfortunes.  The  humblest 
 of  Priests  presents  himself  before  the  Mother  of 
 his  King  with  all  the  conscious  dignity  of  a  high 
 and  holy  courage.  Still  more  intrepid  than 
 courtiers  are  adroit  and  supple,  he  speaks  to 
 her  in  favour  of  the  poor  with  as  much  truth  and 
 boldness  as  if  he  had  hecji,  to  use  his  own  words, 
 at  God''s  judgment.  Grand  and  beautiful  ex- 
 pression !  It  is  not  then  true  that  piety  is 
 pusillanimous,  and  that  self-denial  is  incom- 
 patible with  true  greatness.  But  what  are  the 
 affairs  of  the  poor,  when  there  is  question  of 
 affairs  of  State?  What  matters  it  that  the  orphan 
 should  weep  in  abandonment,  and  the  widow 
 withoutresource,  provided  the  politician  triumph , 
 and  the  intriguer  attain  his  end,  and  the  ambi- 
 tious man  preserve  his  credit  and  his  place  I 
 Vincent  has  then  spoken  in  vain,  and  the  poor 
 have  none  but  him  for  Saviour  and  for  Father. 
 More  than  two  thousand  are  daily  nourished  in 
 his  own  house — fourteen  thousand  infirm  are 
 daily  assisted  by  his  cares.  Corn  is  wanting  to 
 the  rich,  it  is  not  wanting  to  Vincent.  What 
 he  has  not  he  borrows,  and  what  he  cannot  bor- 
 row he  creates.     Here,  several  inundated  cities 
 
(  435  ) 
 
 are  suddenly  succoured ;  there,  abandoned  coun- 
 tries are  provided  with  Pastors.  On  one  side 
 arises  a  Mont  de  Piete,  that  defeats  the  hopes 
 and  mocks  the  perfidious  proffers  of  the  usurer; 
 on  the  other,  more  than  eight  hundred  young 
 persons  retire  to  the  retreat  of  virtue  from  the 
 perils  of  poverty,  which  prepare  those  of  crime. 
 
 Admirable    omnipotence    of  Vincent's 
 
 charity  I  And  what  more  can  we  add  to  his 
 glory?  A  glory  still  greater,  My  Brethren, — that 
 of  the  crosses>  and  contradictions,  and  calumnies, 
 with  which  he  is  loaded,  and  the  persecutions  he 
 endures.  He  is  accused  of  having  contributed 
 to  the  public  calamities,  he  who  had  done  all  to 
 prevent,  and  is  doing  all  to  heal  them — of  pro- 
 moting the  new  subsidies,  he  who  had  So  much 
 bewailed  the  old  already  so  heavy  on  the  pom? — 
 of  sharing  the  coward  complaisance  of  the  cour- 
 tiers, he  who,  by  his  generous  freedom,  lately 
 exposed  himself  to  the  disfavour  of  Mazarin,  as 
 ten  years  before  to  that  of  Richelieu.  To  those 
 idle  imputations  are  added  outrages;  to  outrages, 
 attempts  on  his  life  ;  twice  his  house  is  horribly 
 pillaged;  twice  his  person  is  indignantly  in- 
 sulted ;  in  Rheims  and  Bordeaux  he  is  obliged  to 
 fly;  and  he,  who  ha^  saved  the  lives  of  so 
 many  wretches,  is  more  than  once  in  danger  of 
 losing  his  own.     What  then !  Are  men  worthy 
 
 E  E  * 
 
(  436  ) 
 
 of  the  services  we  render  them?  Is  this  horrid 
 ingratitude  then  possible  ?  Mj  Brethren,  we  may 
 conceive  it,  provided  we  reflect  on  human  per- 
 versity. But  what  we  cannot  conceive  is  the 
 unalterable  meekness  of  Vincent,  in  the  midst 
 of  such  commotions — his  resolution  to  avenge 
 himself  by  new  services — his  oblivion  of  all 
 wrongs,  in  order  to  alleviate  all  misfortunes, 
 and  to  employ,  in  favour  of  the  guilty,  a  credit 
 he  never  employed  for  himself  or  his  own. 
 ''Good  God!"  he  exclaimed  one  day,  on  seeing 
 the  Holy  Bishop  of  Geneva,  ''Good  God!  if 
 "  Francis  of  Sales  be  so  good,  how  good  must 
 *'  you  not  be  yourself!  "  Admirable  conclusion, 
 My  Brethren ;  let  us  draw  it  this  day  for  the  glory 
 of  Vincent.  No,  Great  God!  no,  it  is  not  in 
 books,  it  is  not  even  in  the  splendour  of  the 
 Heavens,  we  must  learn  to  know  you ;  but  in  the 
 heart  of  the  just  man,  in  the  predestined  and 
 compassionate  souls,  your  bounteous  hand  en- 
 riches. If  the  emanation  is  good,  what  must  be 
 its  source?  If  the  feeble  image  is  so  striking  and 
 so  lovely,  what  must  we  think  of  the  substance 
 and  the  principle  itself? 
 
 Do  not  imagine,  however.  Christians,  that 
 Vincent's  zeal  was  unaccompanied  with  talent, 
 or  his  goodness  with  elevated  feeling.  Far  from 
 us  this  miserable  prejudice,  not  less  injurious  to 
 
(  437  ) 
 
 ^nius  than  to  virtue,  which  would  confound 
 with  vulgar  minds  merciful  and  simple  hearts. 
 How  little  would  we  be  acquainted  with  the 
 holy  Priest  whose  praises  we  are  celebrating,  if 
 we  did  not  know  that  his  talents  equalled  his 
 goodness,  and  that  his  genius  was  not  less 
 astonishing  than  his  virtue !  How  then  shall  we 
 name  this  admirable  facility  he  possessed,  of 
 associating  the  most  dissimilar  objects,  of  giving 
 himself  up  to  occupations  scarcely  compatible, 
 and  of  passing  from  one  to  the  other  without 
 being  confused  by  their  number  or  embarrassed 
 by  their  difficulties?  How  shall  we  name  this 
 wondrous  talent  of  rising  and  descending  by 
 turns,  according  to  the  place  he  occupies,  and 
 the  persons  with  whom  he  converses  ;  from  the 
 man  of  the  people  he  instructs,  to  the  Monarch 
 he  assists  in  his  last  moments;  from  the  child 
 of  the  peasant  with  whom  he  lisps,  to  the  Master 
 in  Israel,  to  whom  he  speaks  the  language  of 
 the  perfect;  from  the  heavenly  soul  he  conducts 
 to  the  most  elevated  regions  of  virtue,  down  to 
 the  sinful  wretch  he  victoriously  raises  from  the 
 depths  of  his  disorders?  What  lights  did  he 
 not  need  in  order  to  prove  superior  to  himself 
 on  all  occasions,  whether  he  had  to  inspire  his 
 pupils  with  sentiments  worthy  of  their  rank,  or 
 to  direct   the  Christian  Virgin  in  the  humble 
 
(  438  ) 
 
 paths  of  interior  life,  or  to  govern  an  obscure 
 Paris!),  or  sit  in  the  council  of  Kings,  or  to  de- 
 cide in  his  conferences  the  highest  questions  in 
 dogma  and  moral;  or  jet,  when  charged  by 
 the  Great  Henry  with  the  most  intricate  nego- 
 ciation,  he  acquitted  himself  with  as  much 
 talents  as  success;  or  when,  in  fine,  he  saga- 
 ciously discovered  the  errors  of  his  day,  and 
 courageously  unmasked  their  perfidious  authors. 
 What  rare  talent  did  he  not  need  to  draw  to  his 
 discourses  the  first  men  of  his  age,  and  give 
 occasion  to  the  Prince  of  French  Orators  to  say : 
 that  -when  the  Holy  Priest  spoke  he  imagined 
 he  heard  God  himself  speaking  by  his  mouth. 
 No,  he  who  knew  how  to  direct  affairs  as  well  as 
 consciences,  to  unite  strength  with  meekness, 
 ardor  with  prudence,  the  knowledge  of  religion 
 with  that  of  the  human  heart;  he  whom 
 Richelieu  admired,  Mazarin  esteemed,  Conti 
 honoured,  and  the  Great  Conde  consulted;  he 
 who  never  failed  in  a  single  enterprise,  and 
 could  bend  to  his  own  will  so  many  discordant 
 minds;  who  was  never  deceived  either  in  the 
 counsels  he  gave,  or  in  the  means  lie  adopted : 
 this  man,  I  am  bold  to  say  it,  could  not  be  an 
 ordinary  man.  But,  why  do  we  speak  of  talent 
 and  of  genius?  My  Brethren,  he  possessed  the 
 talent  of  zeal    and   the  genius  of  mercy — the 
 
(  439  ) 
 
 talent  of  giving  continually  and  of  possessino- 
 nothing,  and  that  of  exhausting  himself,  in  or- 
 der to  begin  anew.  He  had  the  gift,  not  of 
 drawing  from  Heaven  the  dew  and  the  rain,  but 
 of  supplying  both  when  Heaven  refused  them. 
 Let  us  not  ask  any  other  glory  for  him,  and  this 
 day  let  every  other  title  be  effaced  by  that  of  his 
 charity.  Let  us  no  longer  behold  in  him  but 
 the  man  without  model  in  the  annals  of  virtue, 
 whose  love  for  poverty  equalled  his  love  for 
 the  poor.  As  humble  as  he  was  useful,  he  alone 
 was  ignorant  of  the  services  he  rendered;  whilst 
 he  was  nourishing  an  entire  nation,  he  envied 
 himself  his  own  scanty  subsistence  ;  and,  whilst 
 he  was  pouring  forth  on  the  world  the  flood  of 
 his  charilies,  asked  his  children  if  it  were  indeed 
 true  that  he  had  a  claim  to  life,  and  to  eat  the 
 bread  of  the  poor,  he  who  has  done  nothing  to 
 gain  his  own.  Have  you  heard  him,  Our  Dearly 
 Beloved  Brethren?  He  has  done  nothing  to 
 gain  his  bread!  Simple  but  admirable  expres- 
 sions! It  is  here,  indeed,  we  should  cry  out, 
 with  the  great  Bishop  of  Meaux:  that  they 
 efface  the  most  brilliant  discourses,  and  that  we 
 should  never  speak  anj  other  language  than  this. 
 No,  Great  Saint, — no.  Great  Man!— ^oz/  have 
 done  nothing  to  gain  your  breads  if  we  look  to 
 what  yet  remains  for  you  to  perform.     This  is 
 
(  UO  ) 
 
 jour  greatest  glory — herein  lies  jour  imniorlal 
 triumph,  that  the  labours  which  would  fill  the 
 bistorj  of  several  illustrious  characters  are  only 
 the  essay  and  prelude  of  your  career. 
 
 We  have  seen  him,  Christians,  labouring  for 
 the  salvation  and  happiness  of  his  contemporaries; 
 his  vast  mind  is  now  to  occupy  itself  with  future 
 generations.  Charity  of  Vincent  of  Paul  and 
 all  he  has  done  to  practice  it :  Charity  of  Vincent 
 of  Paul  and  all  he  has  done  to  perpetuate  it. 
 Such  is  the  subject  of  the  second  part. 
 
 SECOND  PART. 
 
 One  of  the  greatest  and  most  noble  privileges 
 of  Divine  Charity  is  this  seal  of  immortality,  by 
 which  it  floats  over  the  wreck  of  time  and  its  sad 
 vicissitudes.  Whilst  every  other  virtue  seems 
 to  sink  with  the  body,  and  vanish  with  the 
 shades  of  life.  Charity,  still  august,  still  full  of 
 life  and  vigour,  gathers  strength  from  destruc- 
 tion, and  triumphs  over  death  itself.  It  was 
 this  made  the  Apostle  say,  that  Charity  never 
 dies:  caritas nunquhm  excidit.  It  was  reserved 
 for  |Vincent  of  Paul  to  prove,  more  evidently 
 than  any  other  Saint,  the  truth  of  this  Oracle,  by 
 giving  us  a  model  of  charity  brilliant  with  the 
 double  immortality  of  Heaven  and  of  Earth. 
 Transitory  succours,  which  should  die  wath  him- 
 
(  441   ) 
 
 self,  cannot  satisfy  his  great  heart.  He  must 
 g-ive  to  all  the  good  he  is  doing  a  lasting  and 
 fruitful  action;  he  must,  if  we  can  thus  say  it, 
 measure  his  strength  with  time  itself,  and  en- 
 sure, as  much  as  in  him  lies,  even  to  the  latest 
 ages,  the  happiness  of  his  fellow-men.  We 
 are  now  to  behold  him  embracing  in  his  active 
 providence  the  most  distant  posterity,  and  lay- 
 ing hold  of  futurity,  in  order  to  perpetuate  the 
 Apostleship  of  his  charity — the  Ministry  of  his 
 charity — the  monuments  of  his  charity — the  in- 
 fluence of  his  charity. 
 
 I  have  said,  in  the  first  place,  to  perpetuate 
 the  Apostleship  of  his  charity.  Here,  Christians, 
 each  of  you  names  the  Priests  of  the  Mission, 
 No  doubt,  other  celebrated  Societies  had  been 
 established  for  the  cultivation  of  the  sciences, 
 the  cares  of  education,  or  the  pious  meditations 
 of  the  contemplative  life.  Vincent  will  form 
 the  plan  of  a  Sacerdotal  Tribe,  for  the  instruction 
 of  the  simple  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  country. 
 Destined  by  their  state  of  life  to  the  humbler 
 functions  of  the  House  of  God,  they  will  decline 
 the  exercise  of  the  Ministry  in  great  cities,  in 
 order  to  devote  themselves  entirely  to  their 
 principal  object — the  salvation  of  the  poor.  It 
 is  then  to  Vincent  of  Paul  we  are  indebted  for 
 the  existence  of  an  Association  of  Men,   who 
 
(  442  ) 
 
 prefer  emplojment  to  dignity,  poverty  to  riches, 
 modest  virtues  and  utility  to  splendour  of  talents 
 and  to  glory — an  Association  ^vbose  labours 
 could  not  be  greater,  or  its  recompense  smaller, 
 and  so  much  the  more  dear  to  Religion  and  the 
 State,  as  it  serves  the  one  without  pretensions, 
 and  the  other  without  interest — an  Association, 
 in  a  word,  which,  without  despising  science, 
 chooses  only  that  which  is  simple,  usual,  prac- 
 tical, and  popular.  Admirable  design,  inspired 
 by  no  other  than  God  himself  !  And,  oh !  what 
 grandeur  in  this  august  simplicity!  How  distant 
 this  divine  popularity  from  the  bloated  show  of 
 human  wisdom  I  How  sublime  the  holy  Reli- 
 gion, the  first  object  of  whose  solicitude  is,  what- 
 ever is  feeble  and  obscure  !  What  other  Religion 
 than  ours  ever  occupied  itself  with  the  poorer 
 classes  ?  What  other  ever  said :  Suffer  the 
 little  ones  to  come  to  me;  Blessed  are  the  poor 
 in  spirit!'  What  sage,  what  legislator  ever 
 believed  himself  called  to  the  instruction  of  the 
 rude  and  the  unlettered?  The  property  of 
 Philosophy  is  to  shine,  to  distinguish  itself,  to 
 concentrate  itself  in  a  certain  number  of  minds 
 they  call  privileged,  and  to  imagine  itself  the 
 more  enlightened  as  it  is  farther  removed  from 
 the  reach  of  the  vulgar.  And  what  then  must 
 we  think  of  this  proud  science,  from  which  the 
 
(  4^3  ) 
 
 greatest  portion  of  mankind  are  excluded  by 
 their  State,  or  by  their  ignorance?  The  pro- 
 perty of  Religion  is  to  dilate  and  diffuse  itself, 
 and  to  embrace  all  in  its  instructions,  as  the  sun 
 does  with  his  light.  Its  grandeur  is  to  be  com- 
 mon and  intelligible  to  all.  Truth,  say  the 
 Philosophers,  is  not  made  for  the  people :  and 
 this  falsehood  proves  that  their  philosophy  is 
 not  truth. 
 
 But  Vincent  of  Paul  would  imagine  he  had 
 yet  done  nothing,  even  after  having  insured  the 
 bread  of  instruction  to  the  flock,  if  he  did  not 
 give  the  same  consistence  and  solidity  to  the  in- 
 struction of  the  shepherd.  Not  content  with 
 having  formed  particular  retreats,  wherein  the 
 Ministers  yearly  renew  in  holy  recollection  the 
 grace  of  their  ordination,  he  will  establish  per- 
 petual asylums,  where  the  young  Levites  shall 
 be  nourished  with  the  milk  of  piety,  shall  be  in- 
 spired with  the  taste  of  sacred  lore,  and  be  tried 
 in  their  talents  and  their  vocation.  Already  those 
 sacred  Schools,  ordered  by  the  Council  of  Trent, 
 and  sketched  in  Italy  by  the  great  Borromeo, 
 are  established  and  consohdated  in  France  by 
 Vincent  of  Paul.  More  than  sixty  Seminaries 
 are  raised  by  his  cares ; — a  holy  emulation  mul- 
 tiplies them  in  succession,  and  to  him  are  we 
 chiefly  indebted  for   those   precious  establish- 
 
(  4U  ) 
 
 ments  which  have  transmitted  unto  Our  days  the 
 spirit  of  the  Priesthood,  have  put  forth  so  many 
 virtues  and  so  much  light,  and  the  re-establish- 
 ment of  which  can  alone  revive  the  Church  of 
 France,  console  her  in  her  distress,  and  repair 
 her  losses,  alas  !  perhaps  irreparable. 
 
 Christians,  it  was  in  order  to  multiply  and  con- 
 solidate those  happy  nurseries  of  the  Priesthood, 
 that  Vincent  constantly  laboured  to  procure  for 
 the  Church  great  and  virtuous  Prelates.  Admitted 
 to  the  council  of  the  Regent-Mother,  and  asso- 
 ciated to  this  important  Ministry,  so  improperly 
 denominated  that  of  Ecclesiastical  favours,  as 
 nothing  here  should  be  favour,  and  as  the  eternal 
 law  decides  for  the  most  worthy,  Yincent  placed 
 none  at  the  head  of  each  Diocess,  but  oracles 
 and  models.  Far  from  the  Sanctuary  be  this 
 presumptuous  mediocrity,  which  would  usurp 
 the  patrimony  of  talents  !  Still  farther  this  bold 
 and  intriguing  ambition,  which  would  not  blush 
 to  arrogate  the  sacred  right  of  labour  and  of 
 virtue !  It  is  in  the  Hospitals,  in  the  Missions, 
 amongst  the  humblest  catechists  and  the  most 
 zealous  labourers,  that  Yincent  will  seek  modest 
 merit  to  raise  it  to  the  Episcopal  throne.  He 
 will  listen  to  no  pretensions  of  birth,  to  no  dis- 
 tinctions of  flesh  and  blood  :  to  this  he  answers, 
 that  the  Royalty  of  our  Priesthood,  like  that  of 
 
(  445  ) 
 
 Melchisedech,  needs  no  name  or  genealogy,  and 
 that  the  true  ancestors  of  the  Prelate  are  his 
 talents  and  his  virtues.  Why  can  I  not  here 
 unrol  the  list  of  the  holy  Pontiffs  named  by  his 
 suffrages?  Scarcely  one  amongst  them  that  did 
 not  distinguish  himself  by  his  benevolence, 
 scarcely  one  that  did  not  acquire  an  immortal 
 claim  to  the  gratitude  of  the  people ;  scarcely 
 one  that  did  not  contribute  to  enact  those  Sy- 
 nodic laws  which  are  still  the  honour  of  our 
 discipline  ;  scarcely  one  that  did  not  enrich  the 
 Church  with  many  useful  establishments,  and  so 
 well  disposed  that  succeeding  administrators  had 
 little  left  them  to  add  to  their  perfection.  Thus 
 it  was  that,  by  the  selections  made  by  Vincent, 
 the  Church  of  France  re-assumed  her  ancient 
 vigor — thus,  was  formed  this  celebrated  body 
 of  the  Clergy,  worthy  of  the  greatest  epoch  of 
 our  Monarchy — thus,  shall  ever  remain  this  me- 
 morable example  of  the  power  of  him  who  dis- 
 penses church-dignities,  and  who  seems  to  hold 
 in  hand  the  two  mainsprings  of  resurrection  and 
 of  ruin;  who  recompenses  virtue,  and  the  virtues 
 multiply ;  who  forgets  genius,  and  genius  pe- 
 rishes; who,  in  a  word,  can  the  better  regene- 
 rate the  sanctuary  as  he  seems  to  rule  therein, 
 as  God  in  the  universe,  by  the  two  great  motives 
 of  action — hope  and  fear. 
 
(  /i4G  ) 
 
 And  why  then,  Christians,  would  not  the  same 
 resources  produce  again  the  same  advantages? 
 Re-animated  by  these  means,  why  would  not 
 the  body  of  the  Prelates,  formerly  so  renowned 
 and  since  fallen  with  so  much  greatness,  arise 
 once  more  with  honour  and  with  glory  ?  At 
 what  other  period  could  we  have  more  justly  in- 
 dulged so  sweet  a  hope  than  at  this  moment,  in 
 which  we  witness  the  happy  and  the  perfect 
 harmony  established  between  the  Head  of  the 
 Church  and  that  of  the  State,  the  successor  of 
 Saint  Peter  and  that  of  Saint  Lewis?  May  the 
 sacred  links  which  unite  them,  be  drawn  still 
 more  closely,  in  order  to  consolidate  their  mutual 
 power  and  common  prosperity  I 
 
 After  having  perpetuated  the  Apostleship, 
 Vincent  of  Paul  still  labours  to  perpetuate  the 
 ministry  of  his  charity.  Alas  !  benevolent  men 
 must  die  and  misery  is  eternal !  Vincent  will 
 then  bequeath  to  posterity  a  new  congregation, 
 immortal  ornament  of  the  Catholic  Church — an 
 association  of  Christian  Heroines,  formed  by  his 
 own  genius  and  founded  by  his  own  hands,  to 
 give  to  the  poor  both  servants  and  friends,  and 
 mothers,  whose  tender  solicitude  shall  never  be 
 wanting  to  them.  We  shall  then  behold  the 
 Daughters  of  Charity  discharging  at  once  the 
 functions  of  Mary  and  of  Martha,  happily  uniting 
 
(  447  )       . 
 
 the  activity  of  zeal  with  the  holy  recollection  of 
 the  contemplative  life,  producing  in  the  midst  of 
 society  the  milder  virtues  of  the  cloister,  and 
 allying  to  the  most  austere  self-denial  the  most 
 tender  sensibility  for  the  afflicted.  Rare  and 
 striking  prodigies  of  Christian  piety !  Can  we 
 sufficiently  admire  this  unalterable  patience  and 
 magnanimous  courage  in  surmounting  disgusts 
 almost  invincible,  and  this  heroic  abnegation 
 amidst  so  many  forbidding  objects,  and  this 
 masculine  energy  by  which  they  triumph  over 
 the  very  compassion  which  animates  them? 
 What  secret  strength  supports  this  delicate  sex? 
 What  hand  secures  them  against  the  evils  they 
 remedy?  What  miracle  shelters  at  once  their 
 lives  and  their  virtue  ?  Is  it  a  protecting  pillar 
 that  marches  before  them  ? — is  it  a  ray  of  divine 
 glory  that  shines  on  their  countenance?  Public 
 writings  say  nothing  of  their  habitual  courage; 
 they  do  not  admire  this  continuous  sacrifice,  day 
 and  night :  and  we  thank  Heaven  for  their  si- 
 lence, as  it  proves  to  us,  that  there  exist  sublime 
 souls,  for  whom  such  great  services  are  only  a 
 common  and  ordinary  duty,  which  no  one  no- 
 tices. All  for  God,  all  for  virtue,  nothing  for 
 self-love,  nothing  for  interest,  or  fortune,  or 
 even,  perhaps,  for  esteem.  Respectable  Daugh- 
 ters !     0  my  Sisters  I     My  venerable   Sisters  1 
 
(  448  ) 
 
 Yes,  the  Priesthood  adopts  you,  you  are  our  co- 
 operators  and  our  colleagues,  august  Priestesses 
 of  Charity,  receive  this  day  the  grateful  tribute 
 humanity  owes  you.  You  are  indeed  free  to  be 
 as  humble  and  unassuming  as  you  are  useful  and 
 generous  :  are  we  so  to  be  ungrateful?  Are  we 
 free  to  forget  this  perpetual  immolation  of  your 
 liberty,  your  repose,  and  even  of  your  lives,  and 
 thus  rob  piety  of  its  most  touching  instruction, 
 and  Vincent  of  Paul  of  his  fairest  crown? 
 
 But  let  us  hasten  to  relate  how  our  Saint  con- 
 tinues to  edify  and  undertake.  Still  full  of  this 
 spirit  of  charity  which  never  dies,  he  conceives 
 the  sublime  project  of  procuring  for  each  misery 
 a  safe  asylum,  and  of  perpetuating  the  monu- 
 ments of  his  mercy,  as  fortune  does  her  rigors, 
 and  nature  her  infirmities.  I  behold  in  the  first 
 place,  amongst  the  numerous  wretches  who  in- 
 terest his  charity,  those  criminal  galley-slaves, 
 branded,  as  it  were,  as  unworthy  of  public  pity 
 by  the  very  crimes  which  forged  their  chains. 
 Like  the  Apostle,  he  remembers  them,  as  if  they 
 dragged  their  chains  together — lanquam  simul 
 vincti ;  his  heart  already  transports  him  into  the 
 sad  abode  of  their  captivity.  O,  Heavens!  is  it 
 a  prison,  or  a  vast  sepulchre?  He  beholds  men 
 whose  lives,  by  the  hunger,  the  nakedness  and 
 cruel  treatment  they  endure,  are  only  a  slowly 
 
(  449  ) 
 
 protracted  death;  wretches,  who  own  humanily 
 only  by  the  hatred  of  their  fellow  men,  sentiment 
 hj  their  sorrow,  and  God  hy  their  blasphemies. 
 At  this  sad  spectacle,  bitter  tears  flow  from  his 
 eyes,  and,  in  the  holy  transports  of  his  afflicted 
 heart,  he  promises  to  earth  and  Heaven,  that  he 
 will  neglect  nothing  that  may  alleviate  such  mis- 
 fortunes. He  interests  in  their  favour  the  com- 
 mander of  the  galleys — he  implores  the  succour 
 of  Governmen — the  appeals  aloud  to  the  sacred 
 rights  of  Religion  neglected  and  humanity  tram- 
 pled under  foot.  He  procures  for  them  a  safer 
 and  more  salubrious  asylum;  he  sends  them  mi- 
 nisters of  peace,  who,  not  content  with  teaching 
 them  how  to  make  a  holy  profit  of  their  suff'er- 
 ings,  constantly  labour  to  assuage  them.  His 
 heart  is  not  yet  satisfied.  What  he  has  under- 
 taken in  the  capital,  is  soon  executed  in  the  ex- 
 tremities of  France.  Lewis  XIII,  astonished  at 
 the  immense  good  produced  by  bis  zeal,  appoints 
 him  grand  Almoner  of  the  Galleys — new  dignity, 
 vast  and  magnificent  superintendence,  worthy 
 of  being  created  for  Vincent  of  Paul,  who  gave 
 the  first  example  of  this  new  species  of  compas- 
 sion I  Proud  of  a  title  which  only  added  to  his 
 pains,  only  promised  him  continual  fatigues,  he 
 set  out  for  the  various  sea-ports  of  the  kingdom. 
 We  behold  him  successively  at  Bayonne,  Mar- 
 
 r  f 
 
(  450  ) 
 
 seilles,  Bordeaux,  mounling  lliosc  floating'  pri- 
 sons, and  diffusing  therein  all  kinds  of  instruc- 
 tion and  succour,  as  he  there  finds  ail  kinds  of 
 crimes  and  misfortunes.  What  must  have  been 
 the  surprise  of  llie  wretched  slaves,  when  Vin- 
 cent of  Paul  first  appeared  to  ihem;  when  they 
 saw  this  venerable  Priest,  or  this  Angel  of  Hea- 
 ven, enter  their  gloomy  dwellings,  stir  the  wet 
 straw  that  served  as  their  bed,  lift  their  heavy 
 chains,  go  from  rank  to  rank  to  listen  to  their 
 complaints,  and  pour  into  their  scathed  souls  the 
 precious  balm  of  resignation  and  patience?  Su- 
 preme power  of  Vincent's  charily  I  The  most 
 desperate  throw  themselves  into  his  arms — they 
 call  him  their  father,  they  proclaim  him  their 
 friend.  Those  hearts,  hardened  as  much  by  the 
 enormity  of  their  crimes  as  by  the  excess  of  their 
 torments,  open  to  repentance  and  jield  to  the 
 impressions  of  virtue.  Their  implacable  tyrants, 
 feeling  for  the  first  time  the  soft  sentiment  of 
 pity,  acknowledge  that  next  to  impunity  the 
 greatest  injustice  is  extreme  justice. 
 
 We  will  not  here  advance,  my  Brethren,  that 
 Vincent  bore  the  chains  of  a  galley-slave  whom 
 he  wished  to  restore  to  his  family.  To  what 
 purpose  such  doubtful  facts  in  a  discourse,  in 
 which  the  orator  sinks  under  the  weight  of  au- 
 thentic miracles,  and  in  which,  to  be  eloquent, 
 
(  451   ) 
 
 we  have  only  need  to  be  veracious.  It  is  not 
 proved  that,  to  ransom  a  slave,  he  sold  his  own 
 liberty  ;  but  what  is  proved  beyond  contestation 
 is,  that  he  consecrated  his  cares,  his  time,  and 
 his  whole  life  to  the  assistance  of  the  unfortunate; 
 that  he  still  considered  himself  their  debtor, 
 until  he  had  procured  them  instructions  as  solid 
 and  lasting  as  his  succours ;  that  he  allotted  them 
 funds  for  perpetual  missions ;  that  his  charity,  ever 
 Animating  futurity,  raised  in  Marseilles  as  well  as 
 in  the  capital,  an  hospitable  asylum  for  their  re- 
 ception and  solace  ;  that  a  Royal  endowment, 
 obtained  by  his  means,  consolidated  those  houses 
 of  consolation,  wherein  his' children  still  renew 
 the  prodigies  of  his  mercy,  and  daily  offer  the 
 most  captivating  of  all  spectacles — that  of  crime 
 alleviated  by  the  very  hands  of  virtue. 
 
 But,  my  Brethren,  I  hear  a  great  cry  in  Rama : 
 Vox  in  Rama  audita  est.  Whence  proceed 
 those  plaintive  voices  and  those  sad  accents :  plo- 
 ratus  et  uhdatus  multiis  P  Is  it  another  Rachel 
 inconsolable  for  the  loss  of  her  children  ?  Are 
 they  other  ravishers  ready  to  snatch  the  tender 
 nurslings  from  the  arms  of  their  trembling  mo- 
 thers? Alas  I  They  are  the  mothers  themselves 
 who  sadly  sacrifice  to  a  lost  honour  the  fruit  of 
 their  own  wombs  !  Can  we  hear,  without  shnd- 
 derino-,  to  what  a  state  were  reduced  those  de- 
 
 F  r 
 
(  452  ) 
 
 piorable  viclims  of  shame  and  of  crime  ?  Exposed 
 in  the  public  places,  and  sold  at  the  vilest  price — 
 confided  to  mercenary  hands,    that  prostituted 
 them  to  the   most  inhuman  uses — often  buried 
 ere  yet  their  hearts  ceased  to  beat ;  ever  uncer- 
 tain of  their  lot,  and  abandoned  to  chance  — 
 their  offspring  perished  inevitably  with  misery 
 and  with  hunger.    How  did  an  unwatchful  police 
 tolerate  such  misfortunes  or  such  crimes  ?    How 
 l)appened  it  that  humanity  beheld  them  without 
 indignation — that  Religion  did  not  launch  against 
 tliem  all  her  anathemas — that  country  herself, 
 interested  as  she  Avas  to  gather   to  her  bosom 
 those  numberless  wrelclies,  looked  on  with  in- 
 difTerence  ?     Ah  I  let  us  rather  ask  how  to  this 
 immense  calamity  Vincent  of  Paul  was  able  to 
 supply  a  proportioned  remedy  ;  where  he  found 
 for  those  poor  children,  a  heart  infinitely  more 
 lender  than  the  hearts  of  their  mothers  ;  how, 
 when  nature  and  humanity  ceased  to  plead  for 
 ihem,  he  was  capable    of  finding  for  them  so 
 many  fostering  hands — how,  in  fine,  he  succeed- 
 ed in  opening  for  them   this   respectable  and 
 magnificent  asylum,    unknown,    unlhought  of 
 before  him,  and  whicli   alone  would  suffice   to 
 immortalize  his  memory. 
 
 But  what  obstacles  oppose   themselves  to  so 
 useful  and  so  important  an  enterprise  I     What 
 
•(  /|.53  ) 
 
 tlo  we  here  behold  ?  Licentiousness  augments, 
 and  with  it  the  number  of  those  abandoned  chil- 
 dren ;  new  misfortunes  beget  new  wants;  the 
 resources  of  charity  lower  while  the  first  fervor 
 is  relenting.  Those  generous  ladies,  whose  zeal 
 until  then  Vincent  had  rather  to  moderate  than 
 excite,  begin  to  repent  of  having  undertaken  too 
 much  :  for  the  first  time,  those  great  souls  are 
 wanting  to  him.  Vincent  himself,  Vincent,  ac- 
 customed to  attempt  impossibihties,  is  staggered. 
 What  have  I  said.  Christians  ?  When  every- 
 thing seems  in  a  desperate  slate,  it  is  then  he 
 hopes,  and  impossibility  itself  changes  in  his 
 hands  into  a  means  of  success.  Already  is  con- 
 voked, in  the  first  Temple  of  the  Capital,  the 
 Counsel-General  of  those  Christian  Heroines. 
 There,  raising  his  voice,  as  if  inspired  from  on- 
 high,  mingling,  in  the  happy  strains  of  an  unam- 
 bitious eloquence,  all  the  pathos  of  sudden  emo- 
 tion with  all  the  authority  of  his  holy  Ministry,  he 
 proposes  to  them  to  pronounce  the  sentence  of 
 those  unfortunate  children,  to  be  their  mothers 
 or  their  judges,  and  to  decide  inimediatelj  on  life 
 or  death.  Struck  with  this  alternative  —  no 
 longer  able  to  resist  the  virtue  which  speaks  in 
 him,  they  can  only  reply  to  him  by  their  tears. 
 'Tis  done^ — Vincent  of  Paul  has  triumphed — his 
 whole  soul  has  passed  into  the  soul  of  the  assem- 
 
(  454   ) 
 
 blj — the  work  ol  God  is  accomplished — all  iLuse 
 children  are  gathered  together  without  distinc- 
 tion, without  reserve,  and  the  festival  of  their 
 adoption  is  solemnly  proclaimed. 
 
 Vincent  shall  then  be  able  to  give  a  free  cur- 
 rent to  his  tenderness.  What  means  he  is  now 
 to  try  in  order  to  nourish  them  at  little  costs,  to 
 distribute  them  through  the  country,  to  promote 
 their  development,  and  procure  for  their  delicate 
 frames  a  mild  temperature  I  What  labours, 
 what  assiduous  cares  to  watch  over  their  educa- 
 tion, to  direct  their  minds  to  good,  to  teach  them 
 how  to  cultivate  at  once  talents  and  virtue  !  But 
 oh!  how  delightful  to  me  to  contemplate  Yin- 
 cent  of  Paul  with  his  hoary  and  venerable  locks, 
 folding  in  his  arms  those  innocent  creatures, 
 fostering  them  in  his  bosom,  inclining  over  them 
 like  another  Eliseus,  applying  his  hands  to  their 
 hands,  his  eyes  to  their  eyes,  and  repeating  to 
 them,  amidst  the  close  and  melting  embraces  of 
 charity,  the  words  of  the  Prophet :  though  jour 
 mother  should  forsake  thee,  1  will  never  forsake 
 thee.  0  great  Saint!  we  here  reply  to  the  expres- 
 sion of  your  dearest  sentiments,  by  celebrating 
 your  tender  cares  towards  those  innocent  victims. 
 Methinks,  at  their  very  name  your  cold  ashes 
 revive,  and  that  we  feel  the  new  life-throb  of 
 this    great   heart,    where    maternal   tenderness 
 
(  455  ) 
 
 seemed  to  have  taken  refuge.  Why  was  it  not 
 given  us  to  assemhle  them  all  in  his  Temple,  and 
 place  around  your  Altar  all  the  cradles  of  those 
 new  images  of  Moses !  Ah  !  no  doubt,  their 
 plaintive  accents  and  their  native  charms  would 
 have  here  more  eloquently  spoken  than  our 
 feeble  discourses.  All  those  trophies  of  mercy, 
 still  brighter  than  those  of  victory,  would  have 
 put  the  last  hand  to  the  panegyric  of  this  creative 
 charity^  that  is  to  give,  from  age  to  age,  so  many 
 children  to  Religion,  so  many  helps  to  country  : 
 Ex  ore  infantiiim  et  lactentiiun  perfects ti  lau- 
 dem. 
 
 And  yet,  my  Brethren,  a  still  greater  work  is 
 reserved  for  his  tenderness.  What  is  this  vast 
 monument,  the  very  name  of  which  equally  in- 
 spires horror  and  pity  ;  which,  by  turns,  rends 
 and  softens  the  soul — w^herein  misfortune  appears 
 .with  the  most  touching  features,  and  vice  in  its 
 most  hideous  forms  ?  At  those  marks  who  does 
 not  recognise  the  general  hospital  of  this  capital  ? 
 Who  will  sound  the  dreary  depths  of  this  abyss 
 of  misery,  degradation. and  misfortune  I  Here, 
 are  shut  up  those  idle  impostors  who  used  to  sur- 
 prise public  pity  ;  there,  those  men,  more  ill-fated 
 than  culpable,  who  have  been  betrayed  by  for- 
 tune or  improvidence  \  here,  those  younger 
 victims  of  error,  whom  a  moment's  weakness  has 
 
(  4o6  ) 
 
 precipitated  into  ruin  ;  ihere^  those  monsters  of 
 perversity  who  have  lost,  by  the  long  habit  of 
 crime,  even  the  sad  consolation  of  remorse.  On 
 the  one  hand,  you  behold  those  phrenzied 
 wretches  who,  deprived  of  reason,  and  even  of 
 instinct,  are  struggling  in  iheir  chains — on  the 
 other,  those  living  corses,  covered  over  with 
 their  shameful  sores,  and  showing  to  the  affright- 
 ed eye  how  licentiousness  can  punish  itself.  .  .  . 
 Ah  I  let  us  fly  those  lamentable  objects,  so  pain- 
 ful to  the  sight,  so  difficult  for  the  pencil,  in  order 
 to  contemplate  Vincent  of  Paul  forming  the 
 noble  project  of  collecting  in  one  place  all  hu- 
 man miseries  ;  of  delivering  humanity  of  those 
 afflicting  images,  society  of  all  those  dangerous 
 burdens,  the'  State  of  all  those  degraded  mem- 
 bers ;  and  thereby  raising  one  of  the  strongest 
 bulwarks  of  public  tranquillity.  Perhaps,  his 
 spirit  of  mercy  has  therein  been  enfeebled — 
 perhaps,  justice  is  there  sometimes  not  less  re- 
 pulsive than  crime  itself — perhaps,  it  is  only 
 rarely  that  are  now  to  be  found  there  those 
 consoling  cares  which  lighten  the  load  of  mis- 
 fortune— perhaps,  in  short,  is  there  but  too  often 
 neglected  what  Vincent  so  strongly  recom- 
 mended, to  respect  humanity  in  those  even  who 
 degrade  it,  and  to  be  well  convinced  that  we 
 have  not  the  right  of  rendering  unfortunate  even 
 
(  457  ) 
 
 those  we  cannot  correct.  But  whatever  abuses 
 afflict  feeling-  souls,  let  us  not  the  less  celebrate 
 the  praises  of  this  magnanimous  Priest,  who,  not 
 less  prudent  in  his  measures  than  intrepid  in 
 the  midst  of  difficulties,  succeeds  in  consum- 
 mating this  memorable  enterprise,  which  had 
 baffled  all  the  tenderness  of  the  fourth  Henry, 
 and  all  the  royal  magnificence  of  Medicis  herself. 
 Why  can  I  not,  My  Brethren,  point  out  to 
 you  the  other  establishments  which  Vincent 
 founded,  repaired,  or  preserved?  Here,  w^e 
 would  behold  him  raising,  with  the  same  hands 
 that  prepared  the  soft  cradles  of  childhood,  a 
 house  of  retreat  for  forty  old  men;  there,  open- 
 ing an  asylum  to  shelter  tender  innocence ;  on 
 one  side,  a  retreat  of  penance  for  the  culpable 
 sex,  who  sacrifice  their  shame  to  wants  which 
 crime  augments  but  never  satisfies;  every  where 
 resources  for  humanity- — at  Sainte-Reine,  a  Re- 
 ligious Hospital  for  the  assistance  of  Travellers — 
 in  the  capital,  the  Orphan  Females,  the  Daugh- 
 ters of  Magdalen,  the  House  of  Providence, 
 that  of  Christian  Union,  that  of  the  Propagation 
 of  the  Faith,  that  of  the  Daughters  of  Saint 
 Genevieve,  and  those  of  the  Cross.  I  have  not 
 time  to  enumerate  them,  and  he  found  time  to 
 build,  endow,  and  consolidate  them.  Who 
 then  is  this  extraordinary  man,  who  undertakes 
 
(  /i58  ) 
 
 all  he  wishes — executes  all  he  undertakes — im- 
 mortalizes all  he  executes?  What  can  ancient 
 or  modern  history  offer  us  worthy  to  be  com- 
 pared to  an  obscure  citizen,  who,  bj  the  very 
 strength  of  his  unaided  virtue,  launches  a  new 
 world  from  his  creatinf^  hands?  What!  My 
 Brethren,  we  have  seen  Royal  power  embarrassed 
 with  the  new  reparation  of  the  Hotel-Dieu.  In 
 vain  this  noble  enterprise  excited  the  zeal  of 
 men  of  virtue;  in  vain  was  it  deemed  necessary 
 for  its  success  to  flatter  vanity  and  encourage 
 self-love:  for  a  long  time  the  augmenting- difli- 
 cullies  obliged  them  to  renounce  it.  What  idea 
 must  we  then  form  of  this  wonderful  man,  who, 
 whilst  he  divides  his  strength  amongst  so  many 
 objects,  as  costly  as  they  were  useful,  knows 
 how  to  expedite  them  with  an  equal  facility, 
 and,  whilst  he  shows  forth  his  charity  in  forms 
 as  multiplied  as  misfortunes,  brings  to  perfection 
 all  those  tutelary  asylums  which  astonish  us  at 
 once  by  their  number  and  their  goodness  ! 
 
 We  must  here,  however,  acknowledge  it, 
 My  Brethren;  Vincent  of  Paul  found  in  his  age 
 resources  which  would  have  been  wanting  to 
 him  in  ours.  Amidst  all  those  scandals,  not- 
 withstanding the  misfortunes  of  which  he  was  so 
 long  witness,  his  zeal  was  seconded  by  many 
 and  most  powerful  means.     Then  indeed  were 
 
(  .V59  ) 
 
 seen  at  the  court  great  weaknesses,  but  also 
 great  conversions — in  ihe  army,  the  most  famous 
 heroes,  whose  glory  was  to  he  Christians — in 
 the  capital,  political  factions,  but  also  established 
 principles  and  morals — on  the  throne,  Lewis  XIII. 
 in  whose  eyes  justice  was  ever  sacred;  Anne  of 
 Austria,  whose  name  was  that  of  mercy — at  the 
 head  of  the  State,  Richelieu  and  Mazarin,  whose 
 genius  laboured  for  more  than  one  age — in  the 
 Magistracy,  Mole,  the  friend  of  the  weak  and 
 the  terror  of  the  wicked;  Le  Tellier  and 
 Lamoignon,  whose  learning  equalled  their  vir- 
 tues; Seguier,  friend  of  letters  and  of  the  poor 
 — in  the  Sanctuary,  Francis  of  Sales,  Berulle,  (1 ) 
 Sourdis,  La  Rochefoucault,  Abelli,  andGodeau, 
 and  Yialart,  and  Solminiac,  illustrious  and  holy 
 names!  And,  in  a  less  eminent  order,  Eudes 
 and  Bourdoise,  and  Gondren,  and  the  poor 
 Priest  Bernard,  so  rich  in  faith  and  good  works; 
 and  Francis  Regis,  rival  of  Xavier;  and  the 
 virtuous  Olier,  his  worthy  friend;  and  this 
 crowd  of  celebrated  Priests,  great  and  simple 
 souls,  who  wrote  and  laboured  only  for  the  hap- 
 piness of  mankind.  But  let  us  remark,  My 
 Brethren,  for  the  glory  of  Vincent  of  Paul,  that 
 
 (1)  The  Cardinal  de  Berulle,  founder  and  first  Superior 
 of  the  Congregation  of  the  Oratory. 
 
(  400  ) 
 
 lie  sliowctl  a  rare  talent,  in  proliliny-  of  lliose 
 illustrious  and  venerable  names,  and  that  they, 
 in  turn,  associated  him  to  all  their  pious  projects 5 
 that  he  knew  how  to  merit  their  esteem  and  gain 
 their  confidence,  encourage  their  zeal^  and 
 make  use  of  their  credit;  and  thus  armed  with 
 those  powerful  means  and  those  imposing 
 suffrages,  commence,  forward,  and  raise  to  its 
 proudest  height  the  immortal  edifice  of  his 
 mere  J. 
 
 But  why  would  not  you  also  be  named  in  his 
 panegyric,  incomparable  Heroines,  who  had  so 
 great  a  share  in  his  charities  and  his  glory — 
 D'Aligre,  De  Herse,  Traversai,  Lamoignon, 
 Fouquet;  and  you,  illustrious  Gondi,  first  instru- 
 ment of  his  mighty  designs;  and  you,  virtuous 
 Polletion,  ever  rigorous  towards  yourself  and 
 ever  generous  towards  the  poor;  and  you,  pious 
 Miramion,  who,  afterhaving  given  all,  still  found 
 the  means  of  bestowing;  and  you,  immortal 
 D'Aiguillon,  who  to  immense  wants  applied  no 
 lesser  remedies;  and  you,  Duchess  of  Mantua, 
 still  greater  when  your  hands  served  the  poor, 
 than  when  ihey  swayed  the  sceptre;  and  you, 
 Marillac,  (1)  whose  pure  and  noble  spirit  ever 
 
 (1)  Louise-le-Gras,  of  the  illustrious  family  of  Marillac, 
 founded  the  Daughters  of  CharU^f  conjointly  with  Saint 
 Viucent  ol  Paul, 
 
( ^'^'1 ) 
 
 rivalled  wilh  that  of  Vincent;  all  you,  in  a 
 word,  Ills  holy  and  inderatigable  auxiliaries, 
 who  supplied  according  lo  your  means,  or  rather 
 above  your  means,  the  inexhaustible  treasure 
 of  his  charity?  Ah  I  receive  this  day  the  ejQPusion 
 of  my  heart,  and  the  tribute  of  our  homages  — 
 share  the  incense  we  burn  on  his  altar;  and  may 
 your  revered  memory  never  more  be  separated 
 from  his,  as  your  hearts  were  ever  united  by 
 the  same  links  of  zeal  and  virtue! 
 
 And  now  approach  hither,  you  modern  apostles 
 of  benevolence,  and  fall  prostrate  at  the  feet  of 
 Vincent.  Assemble  together  in  one  point  of 
 view  all  the  monuments  of  his  charity —represent 
 to  yourselves  all  the  sacrifices  and  privations 
 they  must  have  cost  him,  and  all  the  difficulties 
 and  obstacles  they  naturally  suppose — calculate, 
 if  possible,  the  funds  he  collected  for  the  Mis- 
 sions, for  Seminaries,  for  Hospitals,  and  for 
 Prisons — add  to  his  public  services  all  those  his 
 humility  concealed — cease  not  to  count  as  Vin- 
 cent ceased  not  to  bestow — and  then,  make  the 
 trumpet  announce  your  coming,  inscribe  your 
 alms  on  the  registers  of  fame,  inform  the  world 
 of  the  progress  of  humanity,  and  boast  to 
 us  of  your  pompous  subscriptions,  your  plans 
 of   economy,    the  well-balanced    accompts  of 
 
(  ^6'-^  ) 
 
 your  donations,  and  the  Fiigh  deeds  of  philan- 
 thropy .' 
 
 But  no — let  us  refrain  from  mingling  any 
 thing  sad  or  bitter  in  a  discourse  consecrated  to 
 the  triumph  of  Christian  charily.  Let  us  rather 
 contemplate  this  holy  Religion,  so  beauteous  by 
 her  virtues,  so  brilliant  by  her  good  works. 
 How  can  they  resist  so  many  charms?  How 
 attack  her  with  vain  subtleties,  when  she  only 
 *  replies  by  her  services?  Why  do  they  obtrude 
 their  reason,  when  ihey  should  only  listen  to 
 sentiment?  Does  Religion  need  any  other  proof 
 of  her  divinity,  than  the  good  she  never  ceases 
 to  perforin?  "  Tell  what  jou  have  seen,'^  said 
 Jesus  Christ  to  the  disciples  of  John,  ^' the  sick 
 are  healed,  and  the  Gospel  is  preached  to  the 
 poor."  And  this  is  the  saaie  language  we  speak 
 to  them  at  this  day.  Behold  all  the  prodigies  of 
 charity  daily  and  hourly  performed  by  Religion 
 —  see  by  what  unnumbered  channels  she  spreads 
 the  spirit  of  life  through  the  social  frame — see 
 bow  her  striking  moral  penetrates  into  the 
 humblest  countries,  her  soft  and  mellow  light 
 into  the  darkest  prisons,  her  generous  cares  into 
 the  abode  of  misfortune.  What  profit  then  in 
 disputing,  and  to  what  purpose  all  their  sophisms? 
 The  sick  are  healed,   the  gospel  is  preached  to 
 
(  ^oa  ) 
 
 the  poor.  Could  so  sound  a  principle  not  be 
 good,  so  good  a  principle  not  be  Xvxxe'^  Renuntiate 
 quce  vidistis  :  leprosi  mimdantur,  pauperes  evan- 
 gelizantur . 
 
 But  whilst  we  are  running  over  the  history  of 
 so  many  wonders,  we  forget  that  Vincent's 
 years  are  accumulating,  and  that  he  is  already 
 arrived  at  the  last  stage  of  his  career.  ,  Too 
 rapid,  alas  I  the  course  of  such  ilkistrious  mor- 
 tals! And  why  are  not  those  heroes  of  humanity, 
 who  partake  so  largely  of  the  goodness  and 
 sanctity  of  God,  exempt  from  the  frail  caducity 
 of  man?  He  dies  then  like  the  rest  of  mankind, 
 he  whose  every  breath  was  a  throb  of  love  for 
 the  poor!  But  let  us  admire  this  All-provident 
 Being,  who  will  not  permit  that  Vincent,  in 
 ceasing  to  live,  shall  cease  to  be  useful.  He 
 dies  —but  the  influence  of  his  charity  shall  be 
 eternal;  his  bones  shall  prophesy j  and  from  his 
 tomb  shall  come  forth  strong  and  lively  sparkles 
 to  rekindle  in  our  hearts  the  sacred  fire  of  mercy, 
 to  perpetuate  the  love  of  good  works,  and  give 
 a  new  impulse  to  public  charity.  Admirable 
 change  I  The  spirit  of  Vincent  breathes  over 
 all.  His  establishments  give  birth  to  others  not 
 less  propitious  to  misfortune.  Placed  in  the 
 Boyal  Houses,  his  humble  disciples  exhibit  the 
 spectacle  of  simplicity,  happily  contrasting  with 
 
(  'i6/i  ) 
 
 magnificence.  Formed  by  their  cares,  soon  ap- 
 pears the  Venerable  Founder  of  the  Christian 
 Schools,  (1)  wherein  the  people  learn  this 
 ignorance  which  knows  all — the  love   of  God 
 
 o 
 
 and  the  love  of  labour.  The  zeal  of  salutary 
 reforms  becomes  more  general  and  more  per- 
 fect, and  the  art  of  succouring  the  needy  more 
 active  and  industrious.  The  august  age  of  let- 
 ters begins,  in  fine,  to  employ  itself  for  the 
 welfare  of  man,  and  Lewis  the  Great  feels  that 
 he  cannot  truly  merit  this  name  but  by  endear- 
 ing himself  to  humanity,  by  tutelary  laws  slill 
 more  glorious  than  all  his  conquests.  On  all 
 sides  arise  numerous  hospitals,  schools  in  favour 
 of  the  poor,  and  those  houses  of  refuge,  until 
 then  unknown,  for  mendicity.  Each  Pastor 
 establishes  for  his  flock  Christian  assemblies, 
 formed  on  the  model  of  those  of  Vincent. 
 Foreign  nations  emulously  adopt  them,  and  in 
 their  honourable  jealousy  boast  that  they  too 
 possess  their  pious  hospitallers,  who,  from  one 
 end  of  Catholic  Europe  to  the  other,  diffuse  at 
 once  their  generous  cares  and  the  good  odour  of 
 their  virtues.  And,  that  nothing  may  be  want- 
 ing to  the  glory  of  Vincent,  we  shall  see  the 
 
 (1)  Jean  de  la  Salle,  Doctor  of  Sorbonne,  founded  the 
 Christian  Schools  in  1679. 
 
(  /.65  ) 
 
 Daughters  of  Charity  his  zeal  had  founded, 
 yisiblj  protected  by  Heaven,  surviving  all  our 
 political  tempests,  escaping  from  this  genius  of 
 destruction,  which,  in  the  spirit  of  its  impious 
 rage,  annihilated  all  beside.  We  shall  behold 
 them  still  afloat  on  the  wreck  of  all  our  ancient 
 institutions,  and  heiresses  of  the  spirit  of  their 
 illustrious  Father,  transmit  it  from  age  to  age ; 
 thus  giving  us  the  means  of  celebrating  his  name 
 and  of  blessing  his  memory  for  ever :  Justitia 
 ejus  manet  in  sceculum  sceculL 
 
 Thus,  almost  all  the  advantages  the  poor 
 enjoy  this  day,  are  due  to  Vincent  of  Paul,  who 
 has  merited  our  lastmg  gratitude  by  the  services 
 he  rendered  to  humanity  during  his  life,  and 
 those  v^e  daily  receive  at  his  hands  since  his 
 death.  Yes,  posterity  will  say,  that  a  single 
 Priest  animated  with  the  spirit  of  his  vocation — 
 that  is  to  say,  the  Spirit  of  God — has  done  more 
 for  the  happiness  of  his  country  than  her  greatest 
 Statesmen,  and  most  powerful  Monarchs.  Thus, 
 the  enemies  of  the  Priesthood,  even  though  they 
 were  not  the  most  inconsistent  reasonersj,  would 
 still  be  guilty  of  the  blackest  ingratitude.  And 
 it  is  here  indeed  we  can  say,  that  impiety  is  not 
 less  a  vice  of  the  heart  than  a  folly  of  the  head. 
 Thus  remains  for  ever  demonstrated  this  im- 
 portant truth — that,  if  we    owe  to  Vincent  all 
 
 G  G 
 
(  U6G  ) 
 
 those  immense  services,   Vincent  owes  to  Re- 
 ligion all  the  good  he  himself  has  done.     Yes,  it 
 is  Religion  that  enlarges  the  soul  by  sanctifying 
 it,  and  inspires  by  the  sublimity  of  its  motives 
 the  sublime  in  sentiment.     And  do  you  imagine 
 that  he  would  have  loved  mankind  with  so  much 
 ardor,  if  he  himself  had  not  burned  with  the 
 love  of  his  Go^  Do  you  imagine  he  would  have 
 withstood    so    many    contradictions,    and    sur- 
 mounted so  many  obstacles,  if  he  had  had  no  other 
 incentive  than  this  fond  philanthropy  which  is 
 as  quickly  extinguished  as  it  is  easily  inflamed? 
 Do  you  imagine  he  would  have  done  all  he  has 
 done,  if  all  his  hopes  l****!  been  limited  to  time — if 
 he  had  had  no  other  aliment  than  the  vapour  of 
 glory,  no  other  ambition  than  a  vain  statue?  (1) 
 A  statue !    And  could  this  scanty  honour  be  the 
 measure  of  the  Just  Man  P     Could  we  repay  at 
 so  low  a  price  eighty  years  of  sacrifices  and 
 virtues?  What  proportion  between  this  frivolous 
 
 (1)  This  statue,  erected  in  the  Louvre,  at  the  instigation 
 of  the  Club  of  the  Philosophers,  bore  this  lying  and  ridi- 
 culous inscription  :  To  Vincent  of  Paul,  French  Philo- 
 sopher of  the  nth  Century.  Pitiful  attempt  to  rank  amongst 
 the  Philosophers,  the  enemy  of  all  Sophists,  the  friend 
 of  his  country,  the  hero  of  charity,  the  model  of  Priests, 
 the  Preacher  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  canonized  Saint  of  the 
 Church !  ^ 
 
(  467  ) 
 
 recompense,  which  pride  may  enjoy  and  vice 
 itself  may  share,  and  this  humble  simplicity,  this 
 heroic  self-denial,  and  all  the  charms  of  modesty? 
 Let  them  affect  to  place  him  in  the  rank  of  their 
 great  men,  who  resemble  him  neither  in  the 
 nature  of  his  labours,  nor — what  was  still  more 
 difficult — in  the  elevation  of  his  views.  Let 
 them  decree  him  a  worthless  glory  he  never  de- 
 sired, and  those  civic  honours  he  would  have 
 rejected  with  scorn.  For  our  parts,  My  Be- 
 loved Brethren,  we  claim  him  in  the  sacred  name 
 of  Religion,  as  a  hero  who  belongs  to  her  alone, 
 as  it  was  for  her  alone  he  lived,  as  it  was  she 
 who  formed  him.  Prostrate,  not  before  his 
 statue,  but  in  presence  of  the  only  monument 
 worthy  of  him — his  altar,  we  beseech  him  to 
 raise  our  minds  to  the  elevation  of  his  own;  we 
 will  promise  him,  on  his  holy  tomb,  to  love  the 
 poor;  we  will  often  approach  his  venerable 
 ashes,  to  invoke  the  sacred  fire  which  burned  in 
 his  heart,  and  this  divine  charity,  which,  emanat- 
 ing from  the  bosom  of  God,  is  ever  pure  as  its 
 motive,  immense  as  its  object,  and  immortal  as 
 its  recompense. 
 
 THE  end; 
 
Jd 
 
 V 
 
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