affecting conversions, held out to us by the church, as to lessons which no longer, in any degree, regard us.
The second goes to another extreme: we represent Christian penitence to ourselves as a horrible situation, and the despair of human weakness; a state without comfort or consolation, and attended by a thousand duties, every one more disgusting than another to the heart; and, repulsed through the error of that gloomy image, the examples of a change find us little disposed to be affected, because they always find us discouraged.
Now, the conversion of our sinner confutes these two prejudices, so dangerous to salvation. First, her penitence not only terminates her errors, it likewise expiates and makes reparation for them. Secondly, her penitence begins, it is true, her tears and sorrow; but it is likewise the commencement to her of new pleasures. Whatever she had despoiled Jesus Christ of in her errors, she restores to him in her penitence: behold their reparation! But with Jesus Christ she finds in her penitence, that peace and those comforts which she had never experienced in her errors: behold their consolations! The reparations, and the consolations of her penitence are the whole history of her conversion, and the subject of this Discourse.
Part I.— The office of penitence, says St. Augustine, is that of establishing order wherever sin hath introduced corruption. It is false, if it be not universal; for order solely results from a perfect subordination of all desires and emotions which spring up in our hearts: every thing must be in its place, in order that that divine harmony, which sin had disturbed, may be restored; and, while the smallest particular there remains deranged, in vain do you labour to repair the rest; you only rear up an edifice, which, being improperly arranged, is continually giving way in some of its parts, and confusion and disorder prevail through the whole.
Now, behold the important instruction held out to us in the conversion of this sinner! Her sin comprised several disorders: first, an iniquitous use of her heart, which had never been taken up but with creatures: secondly, a criminal abuse of all natural gifts, which she had made the instruments of her passions: thirdly, a shameful abasement of her senses, which she had always made to contribute to her voluptuousness and ignominy: lastly, a universal scandal in the notoriety of her errors. Her penitence makes reparation for all these disorders: all, consequently, are forgiven; for nothing is neglected in the repentance.
I say, first, an iniquitous use of her heart. Yes, my brethren, every love, which has for its object only the creatures, degrades our heart: it is a disorder, to love for itself that which can neither be our happiness nor our perfection, nor, consequently, our ease; for to love, is to seek our felicity in that which we love; it is the hope of finding, in the object beloved, whatever is wanting to our heart; it is the calling it in aid against that shocking void which we feel within ourselves, in the confidence that they shall be able to fill it:
