ought not to have my trust in men; that prosperity is a dream; glory a mistake; the talents which men admire, vices concealed under the brilliant outsides of human virtues; the whole world a deception, which feeds us with only vain phantoms, and leaves nothing solid in the heart; and that thou alone art worthy to be served, for thou alone forsakest not those who serve thee."
Behold the most natural effect of afflictions; they facilitate all the duties of religion; hatred of the world, in rendering it more disagreeable to us; indifference toward all creatures, by giving us experience, either of their perfidy by infidelities, or of their frailty by unexpected losses; privation of pleasures, by placing obstacles in their way; the desire of eternal riches, and consoling returns toward God, by leaving us almost no consolation among men; lastly, all the obligations of faith become more easy to the afflicted soul; his good desires find fewer obstacles, his weakness fewer rocks, his faith more aids, his lukewarmness more resources, his passions more checks, and even his virtues more meritorious opportunities.
Thus the church was never more fervent and purer than when she was afflicted; the ages of her sufferings and persecutions were the ages of her splendour and of her zeal. Tranquillity afterward corrupted her manners; her days became less pure and less innocent as soon as they became more fortunate and powerful; her glory ended almost with her misfortunes; and her peace, as the prophet said, was more bitter, through the licentiousness of her children, than even her troubles had ever been through the barbarity of her enemies.
Even you who complain that the crosses with which the Lord afflicteth you discourage you, and check any desire of labouring toward your salvation; you well know that happier days have not been for you more holy and more faithful; you well know that then, intoxicated with the world and its pleasures, you lived in a total neglect of your God, and that the comforts of your situation were only the spurs of your corruption, and the instruments of your iniquitous desires.
But such is the perpetual illusion of our self-love. When fortunate, when every thing answers to our wishes, and the world smiles upon us, then we allege the dangers of our state to justify the errors of our worldly manners: we say that it is very difficult, at a certain age and in a certain situation, when a rank is to be supported, and appearances to be kept up with the world, to condemn ourselves to solitude, to prayer, to flight from pleasures, and to all the duties of a gloomy and a Christian life. But on the other side, when under affliction; when the body is struck with lassitude, and fortune forsakes us; when our friends deceive, and our masters neglect us; when our enemies overpower, and our relations become our persecutors; we complain that every thing estranges us from God in this state of bitterness and sorrow; that the mind is not sufficiently tranquil to devote any thoughts to salvation; that the heart is too exasperated to feel any thing but its own misfortunes; that amusements and pleasures, now become necessary, must be
