Book I, Part 2, Chapter 6. Of the fifth Privilege of Virtue, viz. the Peace of Conscience, which the Just enjoy, and of the inward Remorse that torments the Wicked

1. Besides the joy proceeding from the consolations of the Holy Ghost, there is another attends the just, which is the testimony of a good conscience. For the understanding of the nature and value of this privilege, you are to conceive that the divine providence, which has furnished all creatures with as much as is necessary for their preservation and perfection, being willing that the rational creature should be most perfect, has supplied it with all that was requisite for this purpose. And because the perfection of this creature consists in the perfection of its will and understanding, which are the two principal powers of the soul, the one made perfect by knowledge, and the other by virtue ; therefore, he created the principles of all sciences, whence the conclusions flow, and the seed of all virtues in the soul, endowing it with a propensity to good, and aversion to evil, which inclination is so natural and prevalent, that though a long habit of ill life may weaken, yet it can never totally destroy it. Thus we read, that, amidst all holy Jacob's misfortunes, there was always a servant escaped to bring him the news ; even so he that sins is never forsaken, by that faithful servant, conscience, who still escapes alive and safe, to show the wicked man what he lost by sin, and the miserable estate he is reduced to.

This plainly demonstrates how vigilant Divine Providence is, and its love for virtue, since it has furnished us with a monitor, that never sleeps, a continual preacher, that is never silent, and a master and tutor, that never ceases guiding and directing us. Epictetus, the Stoic, was very sensible hereof, when he said, "that as fathers are wont to commit their young children to some careful tutor, who will diligently divert them from vice, and lead them to virtue, so God, as our Father, after creating, put us into the hands of this natural virtue, called conscience, as it were of a tutor, that it might still put us forward in the way of goodness, and check us in wickedness."

3. Now this conscience, as it is a master and tutor to the good, so it is an executioner and scourge to the wicked, inwardly punishing and accusing them of the ills they do, and mixing such bitterness among their delights, that they have no sooner tasted the Egyptian onion, but their eyes presently begin to water. This is one of the punishments wherewith God threatens the wicked by the mouth of Isaias, saying, " He will deliver Babylon into the power of the hedgehog." For God's justice delivers the heart of a wicked man, signified by Babylon, to the hedgehogs, that is, the devils, and to the pricks of conscience that attend sin, which, like sharp thorns, pierce the heart. If you would know what these thorns are, one is the deformity and hideousness of sin, which is so abominable of itself, that a philosopher was wont to say, " If I knew the gods would forgive me, and men should know nothing of it, yet I could not dare commit sin, because of its own deformity." Another thorn is, when the sin is prejudicial to another, for then it appears like that blood of Abel spilt, which cried to God, and craved revenge. Thus it is written, in the first book of Maccabees, that king Antiochus had a full view of the mischiefs he had done in Jerusalem, which so afflicted him' that it hastened his death, and being ready to expire, he said, " I remember the evils that I did in Jerusalem, from whence also I took away all the spoils of gold and silver that were in it, and I sent to destroy the inhabitants of Judea without cause, I know, therefore, that for this cause these evils found me ; and behold I perish with great grief in a strange land." Another thorn is, the shame that attends sin, which the sinner cannot be ignorant or insensible of, because it is natural for man to desire to be beloved, and to be troubled at being hated : for, as a wise man said, " There is no greater torment in the world than public hatred." Another thorn is the inevitable fear of death, the continual uncertainty of life, the apprehension of the strict account that must be given of every action, and the dreadful horror of eternal torments; for* each of these things pricks and gores the sinner's heart in such a manner, that he can never think of this death, so certain on one hand, so uncertain on the other, without being extremely concerned, as the book of Ecclesiasticus says, because he is sensible that day will take vengeance of all his crimes, and put an end to all his sinful pleasures, it is impossible for any man to put this thought out of his mind, because there is nothing more natural to man than death is, and, therefore, the least indisposition fills him wTith a thousand fears and doubts whether he shall die or no ; for the excess of self-love, added to so violent a passion as fear is, make him afraid of every shadow, and puts him into a concern and apprehension where there is not the least ground for it: so that if any mortality should happen, any earthquakes, or thunder and lightning, the sinner is immediately disturbed by his conscience, and fancies that God sends all this to punish his iniquities.

4. All these thorns gore the wicked at once, as one of holy Job's friends declares at large, whose words I will add, as a clearer proof of wThat I have asserted : " The wicked man," says he, " spends his whole life in pride, notwithstanding that he is uncertain how soon his tyranny may be put to an end. The noises of fear and terror are continually rattling in his ears" (Job xv. 20, 21, 22), which are nothing but the cries of his guilty conscience, accusing and reproaching him every moment; and in the very midst of peace, he is afraid of the snares and treacheries of his enemies : because, let him live ever so quiet, his wicked conscience never fails of putting him into continual apprehensions. He cannot persuade himself that he can possibly return from darkness to the light ; that is to say, he does not believe there is any possibility of his getting out of the dreadful darkness he lives in, to enjoy the tranquillity of a good conscience, which, like a comfortable and clear light, rejoices and enlightens the most secret parts of the soul ; for which way soever he turns himself, he fancies he sees a naked sword pointed at him ; so that, even whilst he is at table, which is, generally speaking, a place of mirth and joy, he is racked with all kinds of fears, distrusts and jealousies, "and imagines he is just beginning the day of darkness" (ver. 23), that is, the day of death and judgment, and on which his last sentence is to be passed on him. " He shall be frightened with tribulation, and surrounded on all sides with misery, as a king is with his guards, when he is going into the field of battle ;" ver. 24. This is the description which Job's friend gives of the dreadful torments those unhappy wretches suffer within ; for to make use of the saying of a philosopher, " God, by his eternal law, has ordained that fear should be the constant companion of the wicked;" which agrees very well with the sentence of Solomon, who says, " that the wicked man fleeth, when no man pursueth ; but the just, bold as a lion, shall be without dread;" Prov. xxviii. 1. St. Augustine has the same thing, in short, when he says, " Thou, O Lord ! hast commanded, that every soul that is irregular should be its own executioner, and we find that it is so;" St. Aug. L. 1. Conf. c. 12. There is nothing in nature that does not convince us of this truth ; for can you tell me of any thing in the world which is* not disturbed when out of its order ? what sensible pain a man feels if he has but a bone out of joint? what violence does the element suffer which is out of its centre? and what sickness does not follow when the humors of our bodies are out of their due proportion and temperament ? Since, therefore, it is so natural to a rational creature to live a regular, orderly life, how can its nature choose, but suffer and be uneasy when life is irregular, and contrary to reason? Job had a dealof reason to say, "Was there ever any man that resisted God, and yet lived in peace?" Job ix. 4. Upon which words, St. Gregory says "that the order in which God has disposed of all things for the continuing and preserving of them in their -being, is no less the matter of our admiration than the power with which he has created them ;" St. Greg. Moral. L. 9. c. 12. Whence it follows that no one can disturb the order of the Creator, without breaking that peace which he has intended should be the effect of this order: because it is impossible for any thing to be at rest when it is out of the place where God had put it. And thus we see, that those things which were undisturbed, whilst they submitted to the order of God, no sooner break off from this subjection than they lose the peace they enjoyed before. We have an example hereof in our first parents and the fallen angels, who, as soon as ever they disobeyed the will of God, to follow their own, and went out of the order he had put them in, were deprived of their former happiness, and lost that content they had before. And man, who, whilst he continued obedient, was absolute over himself, when he cast off that obedience, found a war and rebellion within himself.

5. This is the torment the wicked, by God's just judgment, are perpetually racked with, and of the greatest miseries they can suffer in this life, according to the opinions of all the amongst whom St. Ambrose, m his Book of Offices, as there any greater torment in the world than the inward remorse of a man's own conscience? Is it not a misery we ought to fly more than death itself or the loss of our estates, our health, or our liberty ?" L. iii. c. 4. And St. Isidore tells us, " There is nothing in nature which man cannot fly from but himself; for let him run where he will, he will still carry the sting of his o ked conscience along with him)" St. Isid. in St. L. ii. c. 36. The same saint says, in another place, "The greatest pur. ment that can be inflicted is that of an evil conscience ; if, therefore, you desire to live in peace, follow virtue and piety ;" Idem, L. u. Sinom. c. 36. This is so undeniable a truth, that the very heathen philosophers themselves acknowledged it, though they neither knew nor believed any thing of those pains, which our faith teaches us the wicked are to suffer; and, therefore, Seneca asks, "What avails it to fly from the conversation of others? A good conscience calls all the world to witness for it, whilst a bad one is always tormented, though in the midst of a desert. If what you do be good, you need not be ashamed to let the whole world know it ; but if, on the contrary, it be bad, what matter is it whether any body knows it or not, as lone know it yourself? Your condition will be miserable if you t no notice of such an evidence, since every man's own conscience is as good as a thousand witnesses." Sen. Epist. 97. The same author tells us, in another place, " That the severest punishment which can be inflicted for any crime is, the very committing of it ;" Epist. 98. And he repeats the same elsewhere, saying, " If you have been guilty of any crime, you ought not to fear any witness that can come against you so much as your own self, because you may find out some means or other to fly from every body else, but you will never be able to fly from yourself, for every wicked action you do is its own executioner ;" Epist. Cicero has something to the same purpose, in one of his orations, where he says, " There is nobody so able as a man's own conscience is, either to cast or to acquit him ; and, therefore, an innocent man is never afraid, whilst the guilty lives always in apprehensions." St. Isid. in St. L. ii. c. 36. This, therefore, is one of those torments which the wicked are never free from : it begins in this life, and will remain for all eternity in the next : it is the never-dying worm, as Isaias (lxvi. 24) calls it, that shall never cease to gnaw the consciences of the wicked. And it is in this sense St. Isidore interprets those words of the Psalmist ( xli. 8): "One abyss calls upon another; that is," says he, " the wicked shall be carried from the sentence which their own consciences pass against them, to that of eternal damnation ;" St. Isid. in Sent. L. ii. c 26.

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§ 1. Of the Pen re of Conscience which the Virtuous enjoy. — Virtuous men e from this plague, because they are never tormented with the stings of a bad conscience, but, on the conpy, enjoy the comforts they receive from the sweet fruits of virtue, which the Holy (J host has planted in their souls, as in an ihly paradise and a private garden in which he delights. So Augustine terms it in his book on Genesis, where he says, " The joy a good conscience gives a virtuous man is a true paradise" (Torn. iii. Lib. 12. de Gen* ad lit. c. 34); and this is the reason why the church is called a paradise full of all kinds of graces and innocent pleasures for those who live justly, piously and tern-y. And the same saint, in his Method of instructing the orant, has these words: " You who seek after that true peace which is promised to Christians after death, assure yourself that it is to be found amongst the bitter troubles and pains of this life, if you will but love him that has made you this promise, and will p his commandments; for you will soon find, by your own nee, that the fruits of justice are much sweeter than those of iniquity ; and you will meet with a much more solid satisfact ion from a good conscience, amidst all your afflictions and tribulations, than a bad conscience would ever let you take, though ID the very midst of delights and pleasures ;" Lib. de Catech. rud. Hitherto the words of the saint, wThich gives us to understand that this comfort is of the nature of honey, which is not only sweet itself, but makes those things so, though of themselves unsavory, that it is mixed with ; so a good conscience brings so much peace along with it, that it makes the most painful life and easy. And as we have said that the foulness and enormity of sin are of themselves a torment to the wicked, so, on the contrary, the beauty and worth of virtue, without any thing , are comforts to the good : it is what the holy prophet David ressly teaches us, when he says, The judgments of the Lord (that is, his holy commandments) are true, justified in themselves. They are more to be desired than gold and many precious stones, are sv:eeter than honey and the Jwney-comb* Ps. xviii. 10, 11. This holy prophet, who had tasted how sweet they were, took no greater pleasure in any thing than in the observance of them, as* he tells us himself in another psalm, where he says, J have taken pleasure in the way of your commandments, as if they hod been the dest riches in the world; Ps. cxviii. 14. His son Solomon, in book of Proverbs, is of the same opinion ; for he says, It is a pleasure to a jusLman to do justice (Prov. xxi. 16) ; that is, to act virtuously, and to do his duty. Though there are several causes for this joy, yet it proceeds chiefly from the bare splendor and brightness of virtue, which, according to Plato, is most incomparably fair and beautiful. In fine, the advantages and delights which a good conscience brings are such, that St. Ambrose, in his Book of Offices, makes the happiness of the jusl in this fl£ depend on it ; and, therefore, he says, " The brightness of virtue is so great, that the peace of conscience and the assurance of our own innocence are enough to make our lives pleasant and happy ;" St. Amb. L. ii. de Off. c. 1.

The ancient philosophers were no less acquainted, by the bare light of nature, with the comfort that proceeds from a good conscience, than they were with the disturbances which attended a bad one ; as we may see by Cicero, who, in his Tusculan Questions, says thus : " The life which is spent in actions of honor and virtue is accompanied with so much satisfaction and pleasure, that they who pass away their time thus, either never feel any-trouble at all, or, if they do, it is very light and insignificant ;" L. 8. Tuscus. He repeats almost the same thing in another place, and says, " That virtue can find no theatre, either more public or more honorable, than the testimony of a good conscience ;" Id. Ibid. Socrates, being asked who could live free from passion, immediately made answer, " A virtuous man." And Bias, another famous philosopher, being asked who, in this world, was free from fears and apprehensions, answrered, " A good conscience." Seneca, in one of his Epistles, writes thus : " A wise man is always cheerful, and his cheerfulness comes from a good conscience ;" Epist. 23. So that you see how these philosophers were of the same opinion in this matter with Solomon, who says, All the days of the poor man are evil ; that is to say, tedious and troublesome ; but a secure mind is a perpetual feast ; Prov. xv. 14. It is impossible for man to say more in a few words : by which we are to understand that, as he who is invited to a feast is pleased with a variety of dishes, and with the company of his friends that are invited, so the just man is delighted with the testimony of a good conscience, and with the sweetness of the divine presence, having such good ground to believe that God is in his soul. But yet there is this difference between these delights, that the pleasure a man has in a feast is but earthly, and transitory ; whereas this other is heavenly, eternal and noble. The one begins with hunger, and ends with distaste and loathing ; but the other begins with a virtuous life, is preserved and continued by perseverance, and ends with eternal honor and glory. Now, if the philosopher, who had no hopes of any reward after his life, had such an esteem for the pleasure wThich a good conscience gives, at what rate ought a Christian to value it, who knows very well what rewards God has prepared for him in the next life, and with what favors he honors him even in this? And though this assurance ought not to be quite void of a holy and religious fear, yet this is such a fear as does not dismay, but rather strengthens him that has it, after a wonderful manner ; because it tells him inwardly, that his confidence is then more the sinner's guide i35 secure and profitable, when it is tempered with, and kept in awe by, this wholesome fear, and that, if he had no fear at all, it would no longer be a confidence, but false security and presumption.

You see here another privilege which the virtuous enjoy, and which the apostle speaks of, when he says, Our glory is the testimony of our conscience, that we have lived in simplicity of heart, and in true sincerity, not according to the wisdom of the world ; 2 Cor. i. 12. •

This is almost all that is to be said of the greatness of this privilege ; but neither what I have said, nor what I am able to say, can discover its excellence to him that has never had any experience of it ; for how can any one explain the deliciousness of a meat to any one who has never tasted it ? This joy is, in effect, so great, that often, when a virtuous man is afflicted, and can find no ease which way soever he casts his eyes, yet if he but reflect on himself, he is immediately comforted with the consideration of the peace and quiet he finds in his own conscience. For he knows, that as for the rest, let it go which way it will, it is no matter to him ; this is the only thing he has to look after. And though, as I have said already, he cannot have an evident knowledge of his innocence, nevertheless, as the sun, in a morning, enlightens the world before we see it, by its advance towards us, so the testimony which a good conscience gives a just man, is a comfort to his soul, though this knowledge is not sufficiently clear and evident. This is so true, that St. Chrysostom, speaking of the same thing, says, " Let a man be ever so melancholy, if he have but a good conscience, all his trouble vanishes like a spark of fire that is extinguished when it falls into a great river ;" Horn. 10. in 2. ad Corinth, c. 3. & Hon. 54. in Matt. c. 16.