distress and misfortune; and after having censured and cast a stain upon the piety of afflicted souls, as a measure too easy, and to which little merit is attached, as it required almost no exertion, you excuse yourself from adopting it in your affliction, and from making a Christian use of it, because you pretend that it is not possible in it to pay attention to any thing but to your sorrow. Answer, or rather tremble, lest you find the rock of your salvation in a situation which ought to be its surest resource. After having abused prosperity, tremble lest you now make your misfortunes the fatal instruments of your destruction, and lest you shut upon yourself all the ways of goodness which God might open to you in order to recall you to him.
When, O my God! will the time come that my soul, exalting itself through faith above all creatures, shall no longer worship but thee in them; shall no longer attribute events to them of which thou alone art the author; shall recognise, in the diverse situations in which thou placest it, the adorable arrangements of thy providence; and, even amid all its crosses, shall taste that unalterable peace which the world, with all its pleasures, can never bestow? How melancholy, in effect, my brethren, when visited and afflicted of God, to seek for consolation in rising up against the hand which strikes us; in murmuring against his justice; in casting ourselves off from him, as it were in a frenzy of rage, despair, and revenge, and to seek consolation in our madness! What a horrible situation is that of a foolish soul whom God afflicteth, and who for consolation flies in the face of his God; seeks to ease his troubles in multiplying his trespasses; yields himself up to debauchery, in order to drown his sorrows; and makes the overwhelming sadness of guilt a horrible resource against the sadness of his afflictions!
No, my brethren, religion alone can truly console us in our misfortunes. Philosophy checked complaints, but it did not soften the anguish. The world lulls cares, but it does not cure them: and, amidst all its senseless pleasures, the secret sting of sadness always remains buried in the heart. God alone can comfort our afflictions; and is another necessary to a faithful soul? Weak creatures! You may easily, by vain speeches, and by that customary language of compassion and tenderness, make yourselves to be understood by the ears of the body; but there is none but the God of all consolation who can speak to the heart: in the excess of my pains, I have vainly sought consolation among ye: I have sharpened my sufferings, while thinking to soften them, and thy vain consolations have been to me only fresh sorrows.
Great God! it is at thy feet, that I mean henceforth to pour out all the bitterness of mine heart. It is with thee alone, that I mean to forget all my grievances, all my sufferings, all creatures. Hitherto I have given way to chagrins and to sadness altogether human; a thousand times have I wished that thy wisdom were regulated by the mad projects of my heart: my thoughts have wandered; my mind hath formed a thousand delusive dreams; my heart hath
