Gentlemen, after Achilles had killed Hector, and had dragged him seven times around the besieged city, in the evening, at the threshold of his tent, an old man, disarmed, presented himself. It was Priam. He came to demand back from the inexorable conqueror the mangled body of his son, and, having kissed his hand, he said to him, “Judge of the greatness of my misfortune, since I have kissed the hand which has killed my son!" Achilles wept, and gave up the body of his enemy. What power rent that savage heart? What charm triumphed over him? That power, that charm, was prayer. If power had not on some hand met with a barrier to check its sway, if there were here below only force against force, what would have become of the meek and lowly? God owed to weakness and misfortune an arm which should make the sword powerless, calm anger, extinguish misery, and repair the inequality of condition he gave them prayer. Prayer is the queen of the world. Covered with humble apparel, the head bent, the hand outstretched, she protects the universe by her entreating power. She flies unceasingly from the heart of the weak to the heart of the strong; and the more lowly the place whence her lamentations arise, the greater is the dominion to which she attains, the more her empire is assured. If an insect could pray to us when we are about to tread upon it, its prayer would excite in us great compassion; and as nothing is higher than God, no prayer is more victorious than that which ascends towards him. It is prayer, Gentlemen, which re-establishes our intercourse with God, which recalls to us his action, which does violence to him without injuring his liberty, and which is consequently the mother of faith. This is why Jesus Christ said, "Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you. For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened." (1) I see the objection; is it that in order to pray faith is (1) St. Matthew, ch. 7, v. 7, 8. not necessary? And if it be necessary to pray for faith, is it not an imperfect circle? Ah, yes, Gentlemen, an imperfect circle! I believe I have already said it, the world is full of these imperfect circles. But see how God escapes from this. To pray, I admit that faith is necessary, at least a faith begun but do you know what a faith begun is? Faith begun is doubt; doubt is the commencement of faith, as fear is the beginning of love. I do not speak of that scepticism which affirms in doubting, but of that doubt which is familiar to many of my hearers, of that sincere doubt which causes them to say to themselves, Yet, perhaps, after all, mean and imperfect being that I am, I am the work of a Providence who governs me and who watches over me! Perhaps that blood which but just now flowed upon the altar is the blood of a God who has saved me! Perhaps I may be able to attain to the knowledge, the love of this God! Perhaps! that doubt, Gentlemen, is that which is the beginning of faith, and that faith begun, you will not easily root it out of your heart; God has made it fast there with the diamond. This is faith in its vague state, which will pass on to the state of conviction if you desire it, which will not proceed if you do not desire it; which lends itself to all, to affirming God or to denying him, to loving or to hating him. You possess this faith so really that you struggle against it, and desire to rid yourselves of it. Even persecution is a homage which you pay to it; men persecute only that which they esteem. Persecution comes from faith which does not avow itself and which fears even itself; persecution is an act of faith. The philosophers of antiquity despised paganism; they also left its gods alone. These gods did not impart faith; this is why the philosophers did not fear them. Doubt never descended into their hearts from before Jupiter and Neptune. But when Christianity came, these princes who believed not in their own idols, and who were so contented with being great sacrificers, these rich men who took pleasure in the haughtiness of their hecatombs, these writers who flattered Apollo and Mercury, all these stood up against the truth. They stood up when the truth made them afraid, when faith took possession of them with doubt. Yes, we are hated only because we possess too much truth, truth too visible. Ah! if we brought falsehood to men they would adore us; they would place us upon the altars, and say to us, Give faith to the multitude, and make them serve you. But as we pretend to impart belief to the small as well as to the great, as we penetrate through their vices and their passions in order at least to carry doubt into their hearts, they lift themselves up against us, they would impose silence upon us, they would that from henceforth nothing in the world might speak to them of God, that they might see if conscience would continue to direct them towards him. We can, then, Gentlemen, all pray, because we all believe or doubt. Insects of a day, lost under a blade of grass, we waste our strength in vain reasoning. We ask ourselves whence we come, and whither we go; but can we not pronounce these words: O thou, whoever thou mayest be, who hast created us, deign to lift me up from my doubt and misery! Who cannot thus pray? Who is excusable if he does not endeavour to found his faith upon prayer? May I, Gentlemen, at least have inspired you with the good thought of turning yourselves towards God in prayer, and of renewing your relations with him, not only by the mind, but also by the impulsion of the heart! I bear this hope away with me, this is my desire in parting from you. I leave in the hands of my bishop this pulpit of Notre-Dame, established from henceforth, established by him and by you, by the pastor and by the people. For a moment this double suffrage has shone upon my head: suffer me to remove it from myself, and permit me again to be alone for some time in presence of my weakness, and before God. |