of simplicity; only speak as Jesus Christ to render
testimony to the truth, and you will find that you meet with no better
treatment there than Jesus Christ. To be well received there, you must
have pomp and splendor. To keep your station there, you must have
artifice and intrigue. To be favorably heard there, you must have
complaisance and flattery. Then all this is opposed to Jesus Christ;
and the court being what it is--that is to say, the kingdom of the
prince of this world--it is not surprizing that the kingdom of Jesus
Christ can not be established there. But wo to you, princes of the
earth! Wo to you, men of the world, who despise this incarnate wisdom,
for you shall be despised in your turn, and the contempt which shall
fall upon you shall be much more terrible than the contempt which you
manifest can be prejudicial.

A Savior placed upon a level with Barabbas, and to whom Barabbas is
preferred by a blind and fickle rabble! How often have we been guilty
of the same outrage against Jesus Christ as the blind and fickle Jews!
How often, after having received Him in triumph in the sacrament of
the communion, seduced by cupidity, have we not preferred either a
pleasure or interest after which we sought, in violation of His law,
to this God of glory! How often divided between conscience which
governed us, and passion which corrupted us, have we not renewed this
abominable judgment, this unworthy preference of the creature even
above our God! Christians, observe this application; it is that of St.
Chrysostom, and if you properly understand it, you must be affected by
it. Conscience, which, in spite of ourselves, presides in us as judge,
said inwardly to us, "What art thou going to do? Behold thy pleasure
on the one hand, and thy God on the other: for which of the two dost
thou declare thyself? for thou canst not save both; thou must either
lose thy pleasure or thy God; and it is for thee to decide." And the
passion, which by a monstrous infidelity had acquired the influence
over our hearts, made us conclude--I will keep my pleasure. "But what
then will become of thy God," replied conscience secretly, "and
what must I do, I, who can not prevent myself from maintaining His
interests against thee?" I care not what will become of my God,
answered passion insolently; I will satisfy myself, and the resolution
is taken. "But dost thou know," proceeded conscience by its remorse,
"that in indulging thyself in this pleasure it w