inclination or choice; and which the Lord, says St. Augustine, permits to remain in the most faithful souls, in order to nourish their humility, excite their lamentations, reanimate their desires, their disgusts at their present exilement, and their longings for its termination. The second class are those which please us; which we justify to ourselves; which it appears impossible for us to renounce; which we look upon as necessary sweeteners of virtue; in which we see nothing criminal, because we perceive not the guilt; which form a part of the deliberate and general system of our morals and conduct, and constitute that state of indolence and coldness in the ways of God, which is the cause of condemnation to so many, born otherwise, perhaps, with principles of virtue, detestation of iniquity, a fund of religion and fear of God, and happy dispositions for salvation.
Now, I say, that this state of relaxation and infidelity; this tranquil and continued negligence of every thing which perhaps appears not essential in our duties; this effeminate indulgence of aU our desires, so long as they offer not actual guilt to our sight; in a word, this life altogether according to our animal nature, our humours, temperaments, and self-love, so common with those who make a public profession of piety, so safe in appearance, so glorious even in the eyes of men, and to which the general error attaches the names of virtue and regularity; — I say, that this is a state extremely doubtful to attain salvation; that it derives its source from an irregular heart, where the Holy Spirit no longer reigns; and that all the rules of faith induce us to think, that a soul of this description is already, without being sensible of it, fallen from righteousness and grace: in the first place, because the desire of perfection essential to Christian piety is extinguished in his heart. Secondly, because the rules of faith, almost always very uncertain in the distinction of guilt from venial errors, with regard to other sinners, are infinitely more so with respect to the unfaithful and lukewarm heart. Thirdly, because, of all the external marks of a living and habitual charity, there is not in it the smallest appearance of one. Let us investigate these truths; for they are indeed worthy of our attention.
Every Christian soul is obliged to bend every effort toward the perfection of his state. I say obliged, for although the degree of perfection be not comprised in the precept, to endeavour at, to labour for perfection, is nevertheless a commandment, and a duty essential to every believer. Be ye perfect, says our Saviour, because the heavenly Father whom ye serve is perfect. I can perceive but one essential point, said St. Paul, namely, to forget whatever I have done to this period (and what, my brethren, was he to forget? His endless labours, continual sufferings, and apostolic courses: so many nations converted to faith; so many illustrious churches founded; so many revelations and prodigies?) — and, incessantly advancing, to direct my views to the attainment of what I have yet to perform. The desire of perfection, the continued efforts to attain it, the holy inquietudes in consequence of
