PTRE. f Ct^^^ SEEMONS FOR SUNDAYS AND FESTIVALS; THE BLESSED VIRGIN, CHARITY SERMONS, PANEGYRICS OF THE SAINTS, &c. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF REV, N. TUITE MAC CARTHY, S.J. BY D. MAHONY, ESQ, i^^irJb ^bilion. J. AGAPIT LEC PTBC:. fuWin: JAMES DUFFY & SONS, 15 Wellington Quay, And 1a Paternoster Kow, London. 1881. DUBLIN Printed by Edmund Burke existence which you invariably abused; from Me, who loved you so tenderly, as even to offer myself a victim for your sake, to weep, to suffer, to die for you, and who could obtain nothing but your hatred in return ; from Me, the only author of every blessing, who, rejected by you, reject you again in My turn, and abandon you a prey to all sorts of evils ; from Me, who am benediction itself; but I solemnly curse you this day. Unfortunate man ! you have loved malediction ; you have chosen it for your inheritance ; may it abide with you for ever !" Maledidi! At this word, a terrible voice issues from the throne of God, and resounds through the highest heavens; another re-echoes it with a dreadful roaring from the abyss of hell ; another comes forth from the four quarters of the earth, and they all repeat together "Malediction, woe, Alal edict i f'^ " Begone, then, far from me," resumes the supreme Judge, "to the abode of eternal misery — to that place where there are no limits to torture, and no end to desolation • where the fire is ever burning and never consumes ; where a never-dying worm devours, and never destroys : where there is not left so much as the consolation of beiiiic able to hope for death. Discediie a me in ignem mfermcm. These frightful prisons have not been created for man, the beloved work of My Father's hands, but for the rebellious angel, your eremy and mine. You are well aware that dark hatred exasperated him against you ; that the damnation of the human race was the only object of his desires ; and you have preferred him to your God. Not content with falling into all his snares, and piercing yourselves with all his darts, you have, moreover, conspired with him in his plots against mankind, and against Me also; you have become the seducers of your brethren, the corrupters of innocence, the calumniators of virtue, the per- secutors of piety, the devils of the earth, the ministers, the instruments, the organs of the prince of darkness; and it is but just that you should share his fate, after having embraced his cause and performed his work. Disceditc hi ignem cvternum qui paraiua ed diaho/o est angeli» ej'us.^' * (( • Depart from me into everlasting fire, which was prepared for the devil and his angels." — Matt. xxv. 41. SERMON ON THE LAST JUDCi.MENT. 21 After having pronounced this decree, directing towards those miserable beings a parting look, on which indignation and pity are depicted, He turns away from them for ever ; and after having dispelled the clouds which hung upon His brow, He fixes his eye upon the assembly of the just, with a smile full of sweetness and majesty, which makes heaven and earth rejoice. The never-ending canticle of praise and thanks- giving, in which all creatures join, immediately begins. At the sound of these concerts the heavens throw open their por- tals, and display their entire magnificence to the enrapturt^d eyes of the elect, who ascend into the air, accompanietl by Angels, and enter in the train of the Lamb into the everlasting Jerusalem, which resounds with iheir reiterated acclamations of joy and triumph. Whilst the reprobate contemplate this spectacle in sullen silence, oh ! appalling contrast ! — the earth gives way round them, and hell, displaying the depths of its prisons, demands its victims with expanded jaws ! Then it is that these untor- tunate beings, examining the dreadful depths of that abyss which is about to swallow them, and feeling more conscious than ever of the awful nature of their destiny, wliich they contrast with the happiness of the jast, can fix no limits to their despair. Strength and courage abandon them altogether, their hearts are broken; they burst into torrents of tears; and raising their eyes for the last time towards that heavenly country which they shall never more behold, recognising among those who now enter it, their friends, their fellow citi- zens, their relatives — looking upon the places which had been prepared for themselves, but which others now occupy — all the acuteness and intensity of feeling with which they had ever been endued, revives at the moment of this desolating separa- tion, and they exclaim, in a voice stifled by sobs and groans, " Farewell, paradise of delights, admirable city of the living Ood, abode of peace, of glory, and happiness, for which we had been created, and from which our crimes irretrievably banish us ! Farewell, Father of Mercies, whose children we no longer are; Divine Saviour, who recjgnlsest us no more a,s thy brethren ; Spirit of Love, whom we have compelled to hate us ! Farewell, adorable Redeemer, who hast shed all thy blood in vain to preserve us from these miseries to which our own madness has consigned us ! Farewell, incomparable Virgin, mother of all the living, whom we choose to have as an enemy rather than as a mother ; holy patrons, who once ob- tained for us so many graces, which our own obduracy has ren- d^jred unavailing; Angel-guardians and protectors whom we 22 SERMONS FOR SUNDAYS AND FESTIVALS. havp abandoned, to unite ourselves with those monsters to whom we have now fallen a prey ! Farewell you all, whose- memory is most tender and torments us most — virtuous fiiends^ whose advice and example we have despised — Christian parents, who so often entreated us, with tears, to have mercy upon ourselves, and we would not hear you — beloved spouses,, to whom we were united by such endearing ties, from whom our infidelity has separated us for ever! Farewell, all yon happy inhabitants of heaven ! Hell claims us as its portion ! Farewell, bright day of eternity ! we descend into a night that shall never end. Farewell, joy, peace, consolation, hope — farewell for ever! Torments, uesolation, and despair must be our inheritance lor ever more!" At these words they sink into- the burning prison-house, which groans as it swallows up its prey. The gates of the abyss are closed upon them, never mere to open. All is consummated. Tliere shall he loeepwg mid (juasliing of teeth. 1 have not strength to add any more. May the sincerity of your conversion, my brethren, your faithful co-operation with Divine grace, and the infinite mercy of the Lord, preserve you from such an awful destiny ! This is a blessing which I wish you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. SERMON ON THE WORD OF GOD. FOR THE THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT. " The voice of one crying out iu the wilderness : Make straight the way ot the Lord."— t/o/m i. 23. Although the humility of the holy precursor may seem to be, and really is, worthy of our admiration, wdien, on this day,. he repudiates those magnificent titles which the synagogue seems so ready to decree in his favour, we must, nevertheless, admit that he renders a glorious testimony in his own behalf,, and that he conveys a most sublime idea of his ministry, when he exclaims — " The voice which you hear in this desert is not my voice; it is not the voice of a mere mortal ; but I myself am the voice and the organ of Him who is every where present, though unseen, and never ceases to speak to mankind and to. say to them — ' Prepare my ways. I descend amongst you, through compassion and mercy. Appear in my presence by SERMON ON THE WORD OF GOD. 23. penance and by love.' " Ego vox clamantis in deserto, Dirigite viam Domini. Was it possible for John to state in less equivocal terms, that his word was the word of God himself? But, my breth- ren, what has been the result of that Divine preaching:, which ought to have produced such powerful effects? Multitudes, it is true, assembled from all quarters to listen to this extraor- dinary mortal, and the banks of the Jordan could scarce contain the crowds of hearers who thronged around him. But, in every other respect, if we except a few docile spirits who availed themselves of his instructions, what benefit was derived from these instructions, by that countless multitude which seemed to look for them with so much avidity? Some, in- fluenced by a vain curiosity, rather than by an humble faith, confined themselves to mere barren admiration of the propliet ; and satisfied with applauding his discourse, they cared neither to practise what he taught, nor to amend their lives. Venit Joannes, .... et non credidistis ei, .... 7iec jyoiiiitenflam habii' isfis.* Others, blinded by pride, could only find a subject for derision and censure in the austerity of his life, and in the mysteries which he proclaimed; they despised him, and in the excess of their folly, they regarded this angel of God, — " for such do the Scriptures designate him — as the instru- ment and the vile sport of the very devils. Venit JoanneSy . . . . et dicunt dcemonium hahet,j Finally, others — and these w^ere the great and the mighty- — ^offended at the holy freedom with which this new Elias censured their vices, furiously persecuted him. Captivity and death were the rewards which they reserved for the generous intrepidity of his zeal. Dico vohis quia Elias venit, et fecenint illi qucecunqiie volue- runt. I Such was the success of the Divine word when it was an- nounced by the greatest amongst the children of men. Can we feel astonished, therefore, that the same word should be attended with a different result, when it issues from our lips 1 When we announce it from these pulpits, we enjoy the conso- lation of seeing a few righteous confirmed in virtue, and a few sinners brought back from their evil ways ; but, ^\ ith the ex- ception of this small number of true believers and sincere penitents, what else do we behold ? Ah I can we say it with- out tears? what do we see but those who profane, who despise, * " For John came, and you did not believe him." — Matt. xxi. 32. t " For John came, and they say he hath a devil." — Matt. xi. 18. + " But I say to you, Elias is come, and they have done to him what- soever they would." — Mark ix. ^4 SERMONS FOR SUNDAYS AND FESTIVALS. and who persecute the word of God? First, those who pro- fane it — who listen to it as they would listen to human and profane discourses, and who, therefore, derive no benefit what- soever from it ; secondly, those who despise it— who, through proud disdain, refuse to hear it, and who thus deprive them- selves of a most important means of salvation ; and thirdly, those who persecute it — who hear it with perfidious intentions alone, who hate it, who calumniate it, and wish to be able to extinguish it in the mouths of its ministers. Oh, my God ! as I must support and vindicate the cause of Thy holy word this day, grant me, I entreat, that energy and wisdom which can come fiom Thee alone, so that I may announce the truth without the least restriction or reserve, and that 1 may also announce it with a religious moderation, which mav reach the hearts of its enemies, and disarm their resentment, instead of provoking and exasperating them. Ace, Maria, &c. I. — The word of God, in common with all other sacred and Divine things, requires certain dispositions, on our ])art, to guard it from ])rofanation. Now, what are these dispositions, my brethren ? I will reduce them to three principal ones, which seem to me to comprise all the others: first, a disposition of faith ; secondly, a disposition of humility ; and thirdly, a disposition of zeal for the sanctification of our souls. First, a disposition of faith. That is a sacred and mysterious tribune, my brethren, where man alone appears before your eyes — where the voice of man alone strikes your ears — but where, nevertheless, it is not man but God that speaks and teaches. Non en'im vus estis qui loqiiimim, sal spirilus jpatrls vestri qui loquitur in vobis.* The preaching of the gospel is therefore, as it were, a kind of sacrament or mystery in which we must carefully distinguish what strikes the senses from that which is hidden and Divine. But what is capable of making this necessary distinction except faith? — that faith which St. Paul commended to the Thessalonians, when he said to them, JVe give thanks to God without ceasing, because that ivhen you had received of us the icord of the hearing of God, you received it not as the hearing of men, hut as it is indeed, the 'word of God] — that faith, which, according to the judgment of the great Apostle, is so excellent, that he did not hesitate to ascribe to it, not only all the virtues of those newly-converted Christians, but moreover, all the success of the gospel, and its * " For it is not thou that speak, but the spirit of your father that fipeaketh in you." — Matt. x. 20. t 1 Thes.^. ii. 13. SERMON ON THE WORD OF (JOU. 25 rapid propagation through the universe. A vohis diffamatiKH ed Mrmo Domini et in omni locojides vestra .... profeda How ardently we desire, my dear brethren, to be able to address a like commendation to you. But I appeal to your- selves, is it in our power to do so? Have you, like the first Disciples, this enlightened faith which pierces through those veils which are impenetrable to the eyes of the senses'? Do you recognise Jesus Christ, who is now present in the midst of us, employing the tong'ie of the most unworthy of His ministers to communicate His Divine instructions to you 1 Is it this invisible Master you have come to hear 1 Have you ap- pi cached this pulpit as another Mount Sinai, where the Lord, \\ ithout displaying the awful pomp ^vith which He was attended of old, vouchsafes, nevertheless, to descend into the midst of us, in order to proclaim His oracles 1 Are you aware of this m3^sterious power, of this ineffable dignity of our ministry, by viitue of which, dust and ashes as we are, we, nevertheless, occupy the place of the great God, and cause His very voice to be heard ? Deo exhortante per nos. t Are yon aware that the lips of the priest which produce the Saviour every day upon the altar, by virtue of the mysterious words which they pronounce, are also employed in ])roducing the same Saviour in your souls, in a different manner, by the efficacy of another word? Ah, Christians! — too feeble and blind Christians ! — you must confess that you do not reflect upon all this ; that it is man alone you behold, and the discourses of man alone you have come to look for; and by a well-merited and awful chastise- ment you shall find precisely what you have sought. W hilst man shall speak, God will remain silent in your regard ; empty sounds will ring through your ears, but your hearts will remain deaf to those eternal truths which are alone able to save your souls; you will be affected solely by that frivolous brilliancy with which the thoughts and language of orators sometimes glitter, but no ray of heavenly light shall penetrate your souls, to dispel their thick darkness ; you will eagerly nourish your curiosity with some indefinable puerile arrange- ment of words and language to which you give the name of eloquence, but your soul, which stands in need of more solid nutriment, will depart void and hungry from this table where it ought to receive the life-giving bread of truth. Oh ! let us " For from you was spread abroad the word of the Lord, aud in every place your faith is gone forth."— I The^s. i. 8. t " God, as it were, exhorting by us." — 2 Cor. v. 20. 20 SERMONS FOR SUNDAYS AND FESTIVALS. be allowed, once and for all, to deplore with bitterness what constitutes your misfortune and our ignominy. It is the grovelling baseness of your earthly and human views that has enfeebled and degraded our ministry. You are not desirous of viewing us in any other light except as unprofitable and frivolous rhetoricians, whose sole business it is to satisfy the fastidiousness of your tastes and to banish the tiresomeness which besets your listless inactivity ; and God, in His just indignation, permits that we should be nothing more. He vv^ithdraws from us and abandons us to our own resources ; He deprives us of what would convert 3'ou, and He leaves us only what pleases and amuses you. Instead of these darts of fire which pierce and inflame the most obdurate hearts — instead of these lightnings from heaven which overturned Saul upon the road to Damascus — instead of these thunders which break the cedars, that is to say, proud spirits — instead of that voice of thunder which shakes the foundations of mountains, that is to say, sinners hardened in vice — He leaves us the coldness of rhetoricians, the barren resources of profane sk\\\, the persuasive vords of human visdom, which JSt. Paul disdained to use,* and which produce no fruit in the soul. Instead of zeal, we are ei.dowed with talents ; and because you are not believers, but rather fastidious and curious hearers, we, in our turn, are alas! no longer worthy interpreters of Jesus Christ — we are no longer Apostles, but eloquent men and sounding cymbals. Thus, the first defect by which you profane the Divine word is a want of faith. The second is a wai.t of humility. Ihis pulpit, around which you are now assembled, my breth- ren, is an august tribunal, upon which the word of truth, stated as upon its throne, pronounces decrees which it pro- claims at the same time, in the inmost recesses of the conscience of every one amongst you. In yotir capacity as sinners, you are impeached criminals cited before it, to hear yourselves accused of your errors and passions, that you may learn to know yourselves, to be confounded, and to condemn yourselves* Humble sentiments of respect, of fear, and repentance, are therefore the only sentiments which you should bring into the piesence of that word by which you are to be judged. But how very different are the dispositions which you bring with you to this place ! You come hither, to sit in judgment your- selves, to submit every thing to the supremacy of your criticism, to summon before your tribunal both your brethren, and the ministry of the word, and that divine word itself. Yes, your * 1 Cor. ii. 1, 4. SERMON ON THE WORD OF GOD. 27 brethren. You secretly apply to them every word which the zeal of a sincere charity inspires us to say, with the view of cautioning you about your own defects and disorders. The most striking likenesses we are able to draw of your habits, appear to you to be nothing more than the pictures of their vices; you invariably turn towards them the mirror which we hold up to ourselves, and every effort which we make to heal the incurable bliudness of your self-love, to inspire you with a salutary confusion, and to awaken remorse within you, has no better success than to make you see more clearly the faults of others, to render the malignity of your censures still more acute, and to furnish you with new arms against your neighbour. Yet this is not enough. The minister who speaks to you in the name of Heaven, is himself subjected to your rash judg- ments. So far from revering the au-ust dignity with which he is invested, so far from listening to him with a religious trembling, as an ambassador from God, commissioned to instruct and to reprove you, do you not rather seem to regard him as an actor who exhibits himself to gain your applause, or to endure your disdain ] To what a degree of humiliation is the Divine ministry reduced, in the eyes of the faithful^ when we have become the objects of the trifling and shallow criticism which they daily employ, in reference to us ! And how iireat is the extent of that criticism I I am ashamed to acknowledge it. Everything that appeitams to us — even our language, our most trilling gestures, the very sound of our voice — are not all these made the subject sometimes of their puerile and senseless remarks, sometimes of their indecent sarcasms, and sometimes of their commendations, which are no less disreputable 1 Oh, my God I is this what ought to occupy the minds of Christians, when we speak to them of Tliy justice, of Thy mercy, and of the terrible account which they shall one day have to render of their works] Would that their censure extended no farther than our per- sons; that it respected, at least, the sacred word, of which God is the Author, and of which we are only the feeble organs I But no ; they are not afraid to judge that very word which judges the world, and whose inflexible truth will pass judgment upon us for all eternity. Some of them would strive to impose silence upon its doctrines and mysteries, as being too highly elevated above human reason ; others complain of its morality, as being too austere, and disproportioned to the infirmity of our nature ; every one of them, forgetting that it has come down from heaven, would strive to form and fashion it, ac- 28 SERMOiNS FOR SUNDAYS AND FESTIVALS. cording to the bent of his own caprice. My brethren, you ap- plaud the Divine power of that word, when it is raised against ciinnes of which you are not guilty ; against those enormous public disorders to wliich you may have fallen victims; against the injustice which you suffer, and the conspiracies which threaten you: in such cases you imagine that it does not dis- play its terrors, or launch its thunders with sufficient force. P)Ut let it afterwards assail these particular abuses in which you delight — these dangerous pleasures, in which you persist in inaintainin*; that nothing but what is innocent can be found — that scandalous nudity, which even pagans would have con- demned, but which Christians justify — these criminal familiari- ties, whose depravity passion alone conceals ; these suspected intrigues, which you hide by so many pretexts and devices — this hatred, these dissensions, these scandalous rumours, which sever the bond of charity, and disturb the repose of society itself — your luxury, your amljition — that dissipated, indolent, sensual life, with which j^ou have never reproached yourself — this moral indifference to all religion, which leads you to violate its most sacred laws and most essential prohibitions on every occasion ; let it be said to you, in reference to these things and a multitude of others, as John the Baptist said to Herod, Nan licet — "That is not lawful" — Oh ! how severe, how unmanage- able, and even unjust, do you not then find it to be ! In how great complaints, and murmurs, and railings against it do you not then indulge ! Thus, it loses all its authority for you as soon as it undertakes your correction, because, instead of the humility which submits to its decisions and decrees, you bring to it the pride which i)asses judgment on everything, and finally presumes to judge and to condemn itself. Can there be a more manifest profanation 1 Finally, the last defect which leads you to profane the word of God, is a want of zeal for the sanctification of your souls. Ah ! my brethren, if you a[)preciated the value of that im- mortal soul which is within you, if you had a sincere desire of adorning it with virtue, and earning for it eternal happiness, how great consolation would you not aff'ord our ministry ! with what pious avidity would you not receive the lessons of tlie divine science of salvation ! how carefully would you not engrave it upon your hearts, to make it the rule of all your thoughts and actions ! Tiiis sacred seed of the word would no longer fall upon a dry and barren ground, where it is immediately trampled under foot, but upon a well-prepared and fertile soil, where it would produce fruit an hundred-fold ; the face of Christianity would be reneweil, and the preaching of the gospel SEHMOX ON THE AVORD OF GOD. 20- would be even at the present time, what it has been in its brightest days, the foundation of every virtue. But, alas! what influence is it capable of exercising upon a carnal and infidel generation, who have no longer ears to hear it? Man, buried in the mire of his senses, no longer feels the least concern for his true glory or his dearest interests ; he has rejected his heavenly inheritance, to seek only earthly and perishable goods. Degraded by his own hands, he repudiates that noble portion of his being by which he is made like unto the Angels, and re- cognises only that which he possesses in common with the brute. In this state of abasement, he is unable to comprehend our language; and thus the doctrine of Jesus Christ has ceased to be- inteliiirible to Christians. How can we feel astonished, there- fore, that all our efforts to move them are unavailing 1 If we treated upon the interests of time, the objects of avarice, the affections of flesh and blood, it would be easy for us to arrest their attention, to excite their iears or desires by turns, to make them sometimes even shed tears ; but as long as there will be question merely of the loss or the possession of God, of the life or death of their souls, of the alternative of everlasting happiness or misery, they will remain cold, distracted, and insensible, they will continue asleep upon the brink of the abyss, and will not awake until they have fallen into its depths. But what ! are there not Christians at the present day wha wish to be saved? There are, my brethren, even still ; but where are they who desire it efficaciously, who desire it upon the conditions which Jesus Christ has required? Where are they who persuade themselves that heaven is a kingdom of con- quest, which must be won by offering violence to nature; that the path of salvation is narrow, rugged, and lonely, and that the broad way pursued by the multitude leads to perdition ; that the world is reprobated with its examples, which are scandals, its pleasures, which are disorders, its maxims, which are only falsehood, and its glory, which is mere pride; that self- denial, humility, mortification of the senses, the spirit of re- collection and prayer, are fundamental and indispensable virtues of the Christian religion ? Where are they who do not look upon all these truths, when we announce them from the pulpit, as a conventional language, which they may inter2)ret according to their fancy ; as figures and hyperboles, which serve to embellish our discourses ; which they may retrench as much as they please, and derive no practical benefit from them ? How many there are, then, oh, my God ! among those who hear Thy holy word, who profane it ! and in the crowds which fill Thy 30 SERMONS FOR SUNDAYS AND ]■ ESTIVA LS. temples, how few there are truly faithful who seek the sancti- fication of their souls ! This, O Lord ! is the reason why our ministry, though all glorious and divine, has become a crushing burden, a sad and oppressive task for us. Sorrow withers our hearts, when we see that Thou art forgotten and disowned by men, and that they disown and forget themselves : that they live in a sense- less disregard of their future destiny, and that our admonitions, our cries, and our tears, are unable to prevent them from hastening to inevitable ruin. Alas ! Thy ministers are some- times congratulated upon their success, and upon the good which they effect, when the world crowds eagerly to hear them, and especially when it seems to applaud them ; but, great Ood ! what good do we effect if we do not change the heart; if every one, when leaving this place, carries with him the same prejudices, the same passions, and the same vices, as he had brought with him ; if we cannot present to Thee, as the fruit of our labours, and of the sweat of our brows, one true penitent, who may become our crown, and may attest the victorious power of Thy word? Oh, how happy were these holy preachers of old, who carried Thy name to barbarous and infidel nations, and who, after incredible fatigue, gained them over to grace, either by the power of their discourses, or at least by shedding their blood ! How happy would we be ourselves, if even at the loss of all that is ours, we may be able to affect those sinners who hear us, to arouse them from a fatal slumber, which is so much akin to death, and to rescue others from darkness, which is, perhaps, even more profound than the darkness of infidelity itself! But we have said enough about those who profane the word of God and hear it without advantage. Let us now proceed to consider those who despise it — who disdain to hear it. n. When we raise our voices agrainst those who absent themselves from our pulpits, and who despise the sacred word to such a degree that they seldom or never evince any inclina- tion to hear it, it might be supposed that it is our own glory we have in view, and our own interests we strive to vindicate. Ko, my brethren, God forbid that we should ! We have interests to defend which are infinitely more exalted and more precious. It is not our own cause we plead, but the salvation of our souls, the interests of religion, the cause of God himself. The words which we employ are His words, and not our own. It is to Him you listen when you lend an ear to our discourses; it is to Him you offer the insult when you despise them. Qui SERMON ON THE WORD OF GOD. 31 vos audit me av/l'tt : qui ms .^pernit me .'/f/. J "And reaching into the divisiou of the soul and the spirit, of the joints also and the marrow," — Heh. iv. 12. § "And is adiscerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.'' — Heb. SERMON ON THE WORD OF GOD. 33 sanctity of the place, upon those altars upon which the blood of that adorable victim flows, and from all those sacred objects which surround US'? How great is the efficacy which is im- parted to it by the presence of the word of God, who resides in these tabernacles, of the sanctifying spirit who hovers unseen beneath these vaulted roofs, and some ineffable but sensible impression of the divine presence which cannot be found elsewhere 1 Tell us after this, that you disdain to listen to the tidings of life and salvation, because they are announced to you by inferior preachers. Alas ! my brethren, we freely admit that we are endowed neither with the profound wisdom, nor cer- tainly with the virtues, of those who have preached before us with so much brilliancy and success ; we are not endowed with the sacred and wonderful eloquence of these men who, without detractins: in the slisrhtest deo;ree either from the au«:ust sim- plicity of the gospel, or the power which it derives from the humility of the cross, are, nevertheless, able to decorate and embellish it, and to display it in their discourses with no less brilliancy than strength and success. This splendour, and these attractions of the sacred word, were suited to happier times ; and they probably were a just reward which heaven conferred upon the zeal and fervour of our fathers. But, have the Christians of our days the least right to expect such favours'? Will they presume to complain of the want of elegance and refinement when they have deserved by their contempt and haughty fastidiousness, that they should be deprived even of the bread of children, and that the Lord should condemn them to the famine of His word — that most awful aflftiction with which He has ever threatened His people 1 Why do I speak of their contempt and fastidiousness'? Oh! I could address infinitely more severe and overwhelming reproaches, not to you, my brethren, but to a great many others who manifest so much disregard for our ministry, and who obstinately avoid our temples ! How long is it since the eloquence of the gospel has degenerated amongst us 1 It is scarce thirty years since we have seen the Christian pulpits occupied by preachers who were not unworthy of the brightest ages of the Church. Their voice was that of a Nathan or an Isaias ; their zeal that of a Paul or a Barnabas ; their language that of a Basil, a Chrysostom, or an Ambrose. We have heard them in our youth ; and we have soon after looked round for them in vain. What has become of them? How could they have disappeared so suddenly "? Oh! Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who killest the prophets and destroyest those who have been sent c 34 SERMONS FOR SUNDAYS AND FESTIVALS. to thee, how canst thou ask why they are silent whilst thy hands are still crimsoned with their blood "? After having hurled the pontiff, the priest, and the Levite, into one com- mon grave, does it become you to reproach the holy tribe thus mutilated, with its lustre faded, and its strength enfeebled'? What right have you to require that we — the sad relics of our departed brethren — the weak and only remaining ruins of the Church of France, which has been so illustrious and so flourishing in by-gone days — could, of our- selves alone, revive its undiminished glory, and support the whole burden of maintaining its ancient renown 1 Alas ! reduced as we are to so small a number, wasted b}^ fatigue, distracted by so many different duties, and so many laborious occupations, assailed by so many enemies, inundated by such torrents of bitterness, what leisure can we devote to that study and deep contemplation to which our more fortunate predecessors dedicated their lives in peace ? Ah ! instead of regarding our efforts with contempt, and thus conspiring to crush our spirit, would it not be more eqiiitable to console us in our sorrow, and to animate our confidence by renewed earnestness and docility'? If the Divine word has lost any of its outward ornaments and magnificence, when pronounced by our lips, ought it not, on the other hand, be more precious in your sight, inasmuch as it is more rare"? Is it not your duty to preserve with the most jealous care those expiring embers of the sacred fire v/hich still remain amongst you, and which threaten every moment to be extinguished? Moreover, my brethren — for we are not afraid to do justice to ourselves — what have those celebrated preachers announced to your fathers ; what has John the Baptist announced to the people of Judea, and Peter and Paul to those of Rome and Athens, but what we address to you now, as they have done'? Do we not continually repeat that the world jmsseth away; that eternity is fast approaching; that everj^ hour may be your last ; that your impious pleasures will not make you more happy even herel3elow, though they provide for you misery with- out limits after the present life ; that virtue is the only one true glory of man, and vice his only real disgrace; that the salvation of his soul is his only important concern; that the judgments of God should be dreaded even by the most holy ; that to bid defiance to them is the highest excess of madness and of guilt '? What is there in any one of these truths, in whatever point of view they are regarded, that is not important, serious, impres- sive, worthy of the attention of solid minds, and calculated to affect every noble and generous heartl Wliat must we SERMON ON THE WORD OF GOD. 35 think of those who regard them only as objects of contempt and derision, who close their ears against these Divine instruc- tions, to open them to the poisonous maxims of a base, carnal, senseless philosophy, which deludes, degrades, corrupts, and casts them headlong through every sort of error and disorder, into a bottomless abyss of woe, out of which they never can escape 1 Oh 1 proud and contemptuous men, against whose unmerited contempt it is our lot to struggle, it any one of you is to be found in this Christian assembly, to him I appeal. You may despise our persons as much as you please ; we shall suffer your contempt without a murmur; but, do not despise your own souls ; do not despise a ministry which has been insti- tuted to save them ; do not despise that word which God him- self places upon our lips, to instruct you and to lead you to Him. How feeble soever our voice may seem to you, disdain not to hear it. Such is the grace attached to that character with which we are invested, to that mission which we have re- ceived from above, that perhaps some auspicious moment may arrive at last, when a heavenly light will suldealy enlighten you at the foot of this pulpit, a salutary dart will pierce your soul ; your prejudices will be dissipated, your tastes, your in- •clinations, will be changed ; astonished at yourself, because now you love nothing but virtue, because you esteem nothing but faith, because you are a stranger to every other regret, except that of having sinned, and to every other desire, except •the desire of being reconciled with Heaven ; and filled with ad- miration and gratitude, you shall exclaim, " This is the work of the right hand of the Most High ; it is He alone could effect such a prodigy : yes, it is He that speaks in this place, and I did not comprehend Him ; but I now experience the power of His grace and this heart, which He has renewed, shall hence- forth breathe no other desire except for Him alone." Vere JJom'mus est in loco isto, el ego nescleham* In conclusion, my brethren, we shall briefly refer to those who persecute the word of God. HI. — Infidelity, my brethren, must be conscious of its ex- treme weakness, and must feel a singular distrust in its own -cause. If such were not the case, how could it imagine that it were still necessary to persecute our ministry ] What ! after having exhausted all the arms of sophistry, of false wit, of misguided science, of slander and calumny, against religion, during the last eighty years ; after having combined with these * (( Indeed, the Lord is iathis place, and I knew it not." — Gen. xxviii. 16. 36 SERMONS FOR SUNDAYS AND FESTIVALS. every contrivance of intrigue and corruption, during a long period of time; after having at length summoned proscriptions, murder, and conflagration to its assistance ; after having demo- lished the temples, and broken down the altars ; after having almost drowned the priestly tribe in its own blood; it trem- bles at the sight of a small band of priests, who have escaped almost naked from the shipwreck, destitute of all human sup- port, and preaching the doctrines of the gospel, with simplicity, above the ruins of the sanctuary. What a cry of alarm has it not raised at the sight of the cross of Jesus Christ, appearing once more amongst us — at seeing it borne into our cities and hamlets by a few men, as poor and humble as the Apostles themselves, and erected, with religious veneration, in the pub- lic squares and rural districts, amidst the applause and homage of a delighted people 1 What efibrts has it not employed to make the adorable sign of redemption be regarded as a stand- ard of revolt, the teaching of Christianity in this most Christian kingdom as the most dangerous of all conspiracies, the gospel of charity and peace, as the war-cry of enmity and discord, and the teachers of a morality the purest and most attractive, as the enemies of social order and morality ! Have we not detected it in the ignominious position of a spy, endeavouring to overhear our discourses with the malignant but vain expec- tation of being able to lay hold upon some ungu.* rded expres- sion, which may excite the suspicion of public authority, and arm the severity of the law against us 1 We do not complain of its persecutions, my brethren ; on the contrary, we rather welcome these as a precious portion of the apostolic inheritance. We have not forgotten the in- struction of our Divine Master — Blessed are you when they shall revile you and imsecute you, and sjjeak all that is evil against you untruly, fur my sake ; he glad and rejoice, for your reward is very great in heaven* And have we not reason to rejoice indeed 1 Is it not mani- fest to every one, that the calumnies which are directed against us serve to procure our ow^n glory, and that of the sacred ministry whose duties we perform^ If our doctrine were nothing more than a vain imposture, as some are so anxious to exhibit it, how could it excite so much rage 1 If our ad- versaries — they who so loudly boast of their liberality — held our discourses in as much contempt as they affect, why do they not rest satisfied with complaining, with regarding our €rror compassionately, and not have recourse to so many * Matt. V. 11, 12. SERMON ON THE WORD OF GOD. 37 detestable contrivances, in order to prevent our voice from being heard ? Do they bestow upon religions which they know to be false, and upon their ministers, the distinction of hating them with so much virulence 1 Why do they ex- clusively exhibit their hatred against one religion, which is the most sacred of all, and the only one which, to use the expres- sion of a celebrated philosopher, is supported by proofs 1 Ah ! there must be something in this ; it must be hated only be- cause it is feared ; something which enrages men so far as to make them desire its extinction, because they cannot banish a reverence for it from their hearts. Would you desire to see this mystery explained, my bre- ^thren, and to learn the hidden but real cause of all this enmity and anger ? I beg of you to consider that mighty accusation which they so constantly urge against us. I omit all the others, which carry their own refutation along with them, and are evidently false ; but what is the capital charge which our enemies have constantly upon their lips, by the aid of which they strive to excite the whole world against us 1 I repeat it in their own words, which you have heard a thousand times — *'■ You disturb consciences." Oh, infidel ! you admit, then, in defiance of all the sophistry, and all the systems of a sceptical and unbelieving philosophy, that man possesses a conscience ; that there is an eternal, im- mutable law, superior to every human code, engraven upon our souls in characters that can never be eff'aced ; that no one can violate this law without being immediately condemned by a secret tribunal, which each one hears within him — which issues its decrees, and employs remorse as the instrument of their execution in spite of every resistance. You feel the force of this invisible domestic power ; and after ineffectual attempts to withdraw yourself from its influence, you say that we disturb your conscience, because our language is identical with that which your conscience speaks, and because the ex- terior word of God, of which we are the organs, when united with the interior word of the same God, which is heard within your heart, produces a voice of thunder, which strikes your heart with terror. We disturb consciences! But we merel}'" threaten the judg- ments of God — the punishments of eternity. These threats alarm and confound you. You are not, therefore, so regard- less as you pretend to be of the terrors of religion, which is the ordinary subject of your ridicule and sarcasms • you are not so certain that the immortality of the soul and the eternity of hell, are mere illusions and inventions. All this strength of mind 38 SERMONS FOR SUNDAYS AND FESTIVALS. wliich you assume in profane society, all these airs of auda- cious infidelity which you exhibit, are therefore a deceitful mask beneath which you conceal a feeble, agitated, and tremu- lous heart. Hence we are justified in assuring our hearers that it is better to take precautions against the danger of such an awful future, than to have the misfortune to face them and to fear them still, and thus to indulge in the insane and impious sport of leaving our eternal destiny at the mercy of the most awful of all hazards. We disturb consciences ! But whose consciences do we dis- turb 1 Is it the conscience of the good man 1 Our doctrine is, that man must honour and obey God, and love his neigh- bour as himself; that he must obey his rulers, respect the property and reputation of his neighbour ; that he must be just, chaitable, pure, sincere, and disinterested ; and thus he shall be blessed upon earth, and enjoy unalloyed happiness in a better world. What is there in all this that can afflict or disturb the man who lives virtuously ? Ah ! honey is not more sweet to the mouth, nor the morning dew more refreshing to the parched grass, than these words and promises are to the faithful and innocent soul. It is only the conscience of the sinner we disturb. Oh ! what more glorious praise can be be- stowed upon our doctrine 1 What system of morality could be perfect and worthy of having God as its author, unless it con- soled the just man in affliction, and alarmed the sinner in his iniquity and exultation 1 We disturb consciences ! Blessed be Thou, Lord, who dost thus derive glory from the insane blasphemies of Thy enemies! Our word has the power of exciting the conscience;, it is, therefore}, most certainly Divine ; for who else but God can have power over the conscience? Let all the kings, and sages, and legislators of the universe combine in attempting either to add a new law 1o the code of conscience, or to abro- gate one of its enactments ; let them decree that such a virtue will henceforth be a vice, or that such a vice will be a virtue ; their effort will be productive only of universal ridicule ; and why ? Because it is too manifest that conscience is essentially independent of all human wisdom and power. Accordingly — and mark it well — there is only one religion upon earth which appeals to the consciences of all mankind, because there is only one, that has come down from heaven. Let a hiero- phant or a mufti ascend this pulpit and assume our position, he may say whatever he pleases, he may dart forth his thun- ders and lightnings, but you will listen to him without emo- tion or disquiet ; it will not be in his power to reach your SERMON ON THE WORD OF GOD. 39 conscience, or to aifect it in the least degree. Let the infidel ascend after him ; he may display all the powers of his elo- quence — all the ingenuity of his reasoning ; he may dazzle your intellects, he may seduce your hearts, he may inflame your passions, but he will have no power to terrify the con- sciences of those who reject his doctrines, or even to tran- quillize the consciences of those who receive them. But observe how Christian truth, the very moment it appeared on earth has brought the consciences of all mankind under sub- jection to its laws — how the Jew and the Gentile, the learned and the ignorant, the Greek, the Roman, the Scythian, and the barbarian, have heard its voice from pole to pole. It is because the same God who has created the sun to enlighten our bodies has also instituted Christianity to enlighten our souls; one of these lights does not penetrate our eyes more naturally than the other penetrates our consciences. This is the secret of the propagation and triumph of the Gospel, when preached by the Apostles and their successors, at all tini* s and in all places, whether a Paul, at the birth of Christianit^y, bears it to the most civilized nations of the earth, or a Francis Xavier, fifteen centuries later, announces it to a savage people, governed by no law. This is also, on the contrary, what ex- cites so many persecutions against it, and will continue to ex- cite them even to the consummation of time ; for those who resist it are, by such resistance, guilty of rebellion against their own consciences, and this revolt drives them into dreadful and insupportable torments of remorse, which agitate them, as it is related of the furies, and leave them no hope of a release, ex- cept by employing every means in their power to drown, if necessary, even in blood, that word which they shall eternally reproach with having disturbed their rebellious consciences. Oh ! I appeal to you all, whoever you be — unfortunate ene- mies of the only true religion, and of a ministry instituted for your salvation — you who, perhaps, hate us though we love you with all the tenderness of the most ardent and sincere charity. Oh ! that we were able, at the price of our own lives, to disturb your conscience at length so happily and so efficaciously, that, overcome by its cries, you may abandon that deplorable war- fare which you wage against your God, against your own soul, against that eternal truth, which the Creator has engraved with his own hand upon your inmost soul, in characters which you shall never be able to etface ! May our voice disturb your con- science as the voice of Nathan disturbed the conscience of David, when he pronounced that salutary ^eccaz'i,"* and became * 2 Kings xii. 13. 40 SERMONS FOR SUNDAYS AND FESTIVALS. SO illustrious a model of penitents — as the voice of Ambrose disturbed the conscience of the youthful Augustine, when he deplored his disorders, and abjured all his errors, and embraced with such reverence and love, that faith which he had assailed so long — as the voice of Peter disturbed the consciences of an entire people of Deicides who, when filled on a sudden with the most profound compunction, threw themselves at his feet, and with one voice exclaimed — " Teach us, Apostle of Jesus Christ, what shall we do to expiate our guilt, and to obtain mercy."* To disturb you in this manner would be to restore you to peace and happiness : it would deserve all your affection and gratitude ; it would obtain them. But, Lord ! that our discourses may be equally efficacious as the discourses of these men who were so powerful in word and work, vouchsafe to make us sharers — feeble and unworthy ministers as we are — in the sanctity with which they were en- dued, i^ ill us with the spirit which animated them, that we may be faithful stewards after their example ; that becoming dead to ourselves, and to every human motive and considera- tion, we may seek Thy glory alone in the exercise of a minis- try which is altogether divine ; that we may burn with an ar- dent zeal for the sanctification of our brethren, but above all for our own ; that we may never instruct them without having pre- viously examined our own state: that, by frequent and intimate communications with Thee we may be attentive to learn those lessons which we shall again impart to our people : and that we may never address them on Thy behalf but when we de- scend, like Moses, from the holy mountain where Thou Thyself shalt have dictated Thy will and Thy oracles; so that our words may derive all their efficacy from Him who is the author of them ; that they may penetrate, like a dew from heaven, to the bottom of every heart, and produce fruits of life and salva- tion which may abide for ever. Amen. * Acts ii. 37. SERMON ON THE HUMILIATION OF JESUS CHRIST. 41 SERMON ON THE STATE OF HUMILIATION IN WHICH JESUS CHRIST HAS BEEN BORN. FOR CHRISTMAS DAY. " A child is born to us, auJ a Son is given to us." — Isalas ix. 6. What humble words, my brethren ! — what simple and affecting language, to express the most stupendous mystery that has ever been proposed to the faith of man — the most ex- traordinary and the most Divine event which the annals of the world and of religion can exhibit ! This Son who is given to us — be astonished, ye heavens ! — is the Son of God Himself, who, by an ineffable prodigy, has become the Son ot man, and is conceived in time of a mortal mother, after having been be- gotten in the bosom of His Father before the existence of time began. This little infant who has been born to us is He whose immensity fills the whole creation, in whose presence the Angels tremble and fall prostrate — who has created the heavens and the earth by His word — who preserves them by His power, and by a single look could make them return back to nothing;. This infinite beins: is confined within the narrow limits of a stable; the eternal Word is silent in a manger; the increated Wisdom is wrapped in swaddling clothes ! mys- tery ! O abyss ! O truly unfathomable depth of the Divine councils, in which human reason can only be agitated and con- founded ! altUudo cUvitiarum scqnentke et scientire Dei.^ Accordingly, no less than four thousand years were neces- sary to prepare the world for the performance of so great and incomprehensible a miracle. Revealed obscurely in tlie begin- ning to our first parents after their fall, it became the source of all their hope and consolation; it was the object of the faith of the ancient just and of the ardent prayers ot the patriarchs. Subsequently prefigured by the sacrifices and ceremonies of the law, by the entire worship of the synagogue, and by all the in- stitutions of the chosen people, it was for a long time described under veils and shadows as the profound thought of God, the incomprehensible end of His adorable designs, the mighty and mysterious work of His wisdom and mercy. When it was at length more clearly revealed to the prophets, it excited their transports and became the subject of their sublimest canticles; * "0 the depth of the riches of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God."— i?o?/i. xi. 33. 42 - SERMONS FOR SUNDAYS AND FESTIVALS. they never ceased, during the lapse of many centuries, to pre- serve these in the minds of the holy nation, and as their voice resounded beyond the limits of Judea, they filled the whole earth with the hope of a liberator, who being, at the same time, God and man, was destined to bring salvation to man- kind from the summit of heaven. After such a magnificent display of promises, and predic- tions, and figures, when the time was come, He, whom the universe expected, v/hom the desires of all invited, appeared at length. And wdiat do we behold] As I have already said, a feeble infant, descended from the race of Adam, according to the flesh, born in a stable, cradled in a manger, scarcely pro- tected by a few rags from the inclemency of the season, and unable to express himself except by sighs and tears. Could such marks lead us to recognise the promised remedy of our evils — the desired of the eternal hills — the Son of the Most High 1 Shall we accompany the shepherds and the wise men to adore Him 1 or shall we, with the incredulous Jews, imagine that our expectations were deceived 1 and shall we turn our hopes to a Saviour different from Him who had been born in. Bethlehem 1 Will you hesitate to answer, my brethren 1 Do you belong to that class of short-sighted beings who can discover nothing by the light of faith, and who, Irom their inability to form an opinion, except by the aid of the senses, can recognise nothing but abjection and meanness where the saints have beheld so much elevation and magnificence? Are you induced to join with those infidels who despise our doctrines, and to assert that infinite Majesty could not be able thus to humble and annihi- late itselt ; that, if the God-head really vouchsafed to come down upon this earth, he would have appeared under a form more imposing and more capable of attracting the homage of our respect and veneration? Oh, proud and senseless unbeliever ! is this your wisdom and the amount of your knowledge of the things of God? Oh! how contracted are your views, and how really vulgar and grovelling are those conceptions which you imagine to be so elevated and sublime. Oh ! that I could now convince you of that truth; and that by leading you to consider the ideas which faith gives us, and which are alone sublime and true, I may induce you to abjure those errors to which pride and a presumptuous ignorance give birth in the great concern of religion. It is not the mystery of the Incarnation, ray brethren, but the mystery of the Nativity of our Saviour that I shall vin- SERMON ON THE HUMILIATION OF JESUS CHRIST. 43" dicate to-day. It is not, therefore, my duty to show upon the present occasion, how the economy of the redemption of the world, by the mediation of a God, made man, is altogether Divine ; but having supposed that economy, and that Christ is the Son of God, we shall show that when Ho was to assume our nature, He should be born precisely as Jesus Christ has been born ; that this birth, which is so humble, and so abject in the eyes of the senses, was, by that very humility and abjection, the most worthy of a God-man; and the reason may be said in three words. It is because no other birth could be better adapted : first, to His greatness ; secondly, to His wis- dom; and thirdly, to his goodness. The further explanation of these important points demands your most earnest attention. Ave Maria, &c. I. — You must certainly feel astonished, |my brethren, that I should presume to advance that nothing is more consistent with the greatness of a God, who assumes our nature, than to be born in a state of poverty, of humiliation, and meekness — to have only a stable for His palace, a manger for His cradle, and miserable and paltry rags as the robe of His royalty ; yet, this is not a vain paradox, but one of the most solid truths which it is possible to inculcate in a Christian pulpit; and I expect that you will soon agree with me in admitting it. Yes, to believe that the birth of Jesus Christ is that of a God, it is unnecessary to have recourse to the splendid and miraculous circumstances by M'hich it was accompanied — the supernatural light which suddenly pierced the darkness of night; the heavenly concerts which resounded through the air; the Angels who addressed the shepherds; the mira- culous star which appeared to the wise men of the east, and conducted them to the feet of the child at Bethlehem; without dwelling upon these prodigies, I can perceive in the very appearances of poverty and infirmity, indications of a Divine greatness which are no less certain, and which more deeply affect the heart. Let us for a moment imagine a gospel of human invention — ■ let us suppose that the genius of man had undertaken to describe the birth of our incarnate Deity; with what colours do you think he would have painted the entry of the adorable Infant into the world, and the reception which He should have experienced from men? What pomp and splendour would He not display ! What wealth and luxury would be lavished around His cradle ! What a sumptuous palace would be pre- pared to receive Him! What gold and marble would have shone in every part cf it ! How abundantly would purple and 44 SERMONS FOR SUNDAYS AND FESTIV^ALS. the most precious tissues be furnished for His dress ! AVhat a countless multitude of servants and courtiers would emulate each other in the performance of their humble duties in his service! In short, I leave it to your own imagination to represent to yourself every circumstance which an ingenious and creative mind would have added to this picture, in order to perfect and adorn it. Now, my brethren, at the sight of such a wealthy and gorgeous display, will you exclaim — ^' Oh, how great and divine is this ?" For my part, I would exclaim — " Oh, how paltry and puerile is all this when there is question of a God ! " Why should He collect around Him all the frail appliances of our weakness — the frivolous ornaments with which we endeavour to clothe and decorate our misery, the deceitful goods which our avarice alone desires, the splendid trifles, the glittering toys with which our folly sports? Can He stand in need of them'^ or is He captivated with them? What! how could he stand in need of all these ? How can that be reconciled with His Sovereign independence 1 He would then no longer be that God who is sufficient for Himself — that God. to whom David said : TJiou art my God, for Thou hast no need of my goods.^ But it will be said : *' It is not for Himself, but for us — it is to make a stronger impression upon our senses and to attract our hearts more securely towards Him that such splen- dour would be required." But where is His omnipotence in that supposition? Does He not possess supreme authority over the heart? and is He not able to inspire us with reverence and love, without dazzling us by a vain exterior ? *' But although He does not stand in need of such matters, perhaps He values their worth and is captivated by them." What, my brethren, can He who has made the heavens' and all the furniture of themf — who has scattered the stars like dust through the firmament — who can see nothing, even in the immortal abode of His gbry, which is worthy of His esteem and love, except the Father, in whose bosom He is begotten from all eternity — can He be captivated by our vanities ? Can He value what even we ourselves do not esteem, and what we know in reality to be nothing more than a heap of filth, or an empty vapour? I can understand how a God would humble Himself, through conde- scension and compassion, to the level of our miseries, but I cannot conceive how He could degrade Himself to such a degree ^s to borrow our false greatness, and to equip Himself in the puerile decorations of our pride. A prince certainly would not * Ps. XV. 2. t ^