"Far, far from it, my son," replied the Bishop. "I am ever willing to explain any thing, to enter into the most open and candid exposition of every thing that I think or feel. I have no design to embarrass, or to perplex, or to obscure; my whole view is to make my own doctrine clear and explicit, so that the mind of the merest child may choose between the right and the wrong."
"I merely wish to ask," said the Count, "whether by the words 'unhappiness in life, and in death,' you meant to allude to temporal or spiritual unhappiness? whether you meant delicately to point out to me that the hand of persecution is likely to be stretched out to oppress me? or----"
"No! no!" cried Bossuet, eagerly. "Heaven forbid that I should hold out as an inducement the apprehension of things that I disapprove of! No, Monsieur de Morseiul, I meant merely spiritual happiness and unhappiness, for I do not believe that any man can be perfectly happy in life while persisting in a wrong belief; certainly I believe that he must be unhappy in his death; and, alas! my son, reason and religion both teach me that he must be unhappy in eternity."
"The great question of eternity," replied the Count, solemnly, "is in the hands of God. But the man, and the only man, who, in this sense, must be unhappy in life, in death, and in eternity, seems to me to be the man who is uncertain in his faith. In life and in death I can conceive the deist, or (if there be such a thing) the atheist--if perfectly convinced of the truth of his system--perfectly happy and perfectly contented. But the sceptic can never be happy. He who, in regard to religious belief, is doubtful, uncertain, wavering, must assuredly be unhappy in life and in death, though to God's great mercy we must refer the eternity. If I remain unshaken, Monsieur de Meaux, in my firm belief that what we call the reformed church is right in its views and doctrines, the only thing that can disturb or make me unhappy therein is temporal persecution. Were my faith in that church, however, shaken, I would abandon it immediately. I could not, I would not, remain in a state of doubt."
"The more anxious am I, my son," replied the Bishop, "to withdraw you from that erroneous creed, for so firm and so decided a mind as yours is the very one which could the best appreciate the doctrines of the church of Rome, which are always clear, definite, and precise, the same to-day as they were yesterday, based upon decisions that never change, and not, as your faith does, admitting doubts and fostering variations. You must listen to me, my young friend. Indeed, I must have you listen to me. I hear some of our other friends in the next room; but we must converse more, and the sooner the better. You have visited me twice, but I will next visit you, for I think nothing should be left undone that may court a noble spirit back to the church of God."
Thus saying, he slowly led the way into the larger room, the young Count merely replying as he did so,--
"Would to God, Monsieur de Meaux, that by your example and by your exhortations you could prevent others from giving us Protestants the strongest of all temporal motives to remain attached to our own creed."
"What motive is that?" demanded Bossuet, apparently in some surprise.
"Persecution!" replied the Count; "for depend upon it, to all those who are worthy of being gained, persecution is the strongest motive of resistance."
"Alas! my son," replied Bossuet, "that you should acknowledge such a thing as pride to have any thing on earth to do with the eternal salvation of your souls. An old friend of mine used to say, 'It is more often from pride than from want of judgment that people set themselves up against established opinions. Men find the first places occupied in the right party, and they do not choose to take up with back seats.' I have always known this to be true in the things of the world; but I think that pride should have nothing to do with the things of eternity."