ss of those
it punishes. Philanthropy is a sublime error; it tortures the body
uselessly, it produces no balm to heal the soul. Philanthropy gives
birth to projects, emits ideas, confides the execution of them to man,
to silence, to labor, to rules, to things mute and powerless. Religion
is above these imperfections, for it extends man's life beyond this
world. Regarding us all as degraded from our high estate, religion has
opened to us an inexhaustible treasure of indulgence. We are all more or
less advanced toward our complete regeneration; no one is sinless; the
Church expects wrong-doing, even crime. Where society sees a criminal
to be expelled from its bosom, the Church sees a soul to save. More, far
more than that! Inspired by God, whom she studies and contemplates,
the Church admits the inequalities of strength, she allows for the
disproportion of burdens. If she finds us unequal in heart, in body,
in mind, in aptitude, and value, she makes us all equal by repentance.
Hence equality is no longer a vain word, for we can be, we are, all
equal through feeling. From the formless fetichism of savages to
the graceful inventions of Greece, or the profound and metaphysical
doctrines of Egypt and India, whether taught in cheerful or in
terrifying worship, there is a conviction in the soul of man--that
of his fall, that of his sin--from which comes everywhere the idea of
sacrifice and redemption. The death of the Redeemer of the human race is
an image of what we have to do for ourselves,--redeem our faults, redeem
our errors, redeem our crimes! All is redeemable; Catholicism itself is
in that word; hence its adorable sacraments, which help the triumph
of grace and sustain the sinner. To weep, to moan like Magdalen in the
desert, is but the beginning; the end is Action. Monasteries wept and
prayed; they prayed and civilized; they were the active agents of our
divine religion. They built, planted, cultivated Europe; all the while
saving the treasures of learning, knowledge, human justice, politics,
and art. We shall ever recognize in Europe the places where those
radiant centres once were. Nearly all our modern towns are the children
of monasteries. If you believe that God will judge you, the Church tells
you by my voice that sin can be redeemed by works of repentance. The
mighty hand of God weighs both the evil done and the value of benefits
accomplished. Be yourself like those monasteries; work here the same
miracles. Your