suspects him. The stone in the wall is silent, and the timber in the roof does not cry out; who, then, can know? Nobody could prove anything, even if people suspect. Safety is impunity, and impunity leads to impenitence. In the end all comes out into the light, not so much by the search of man as by the finger of God. Long impunity gives time and occasion for a long career of reiterated sins, and a daily practice of simulating piety and of dissembling sin hardens his forehead and his heart. He defies all witnesses, denies all evidence, and persists in deceiving all who can be deceived. But the priest who loves him, and knows all, cannot be deceived; and his sorrow is for the soul on which the sacerdotal character was indelibly impressed in the day when he was consecrated to be the light of the world, the salt of the earth, the image of the Son of God, a shepherd of the sheep. His sorrow is also for the souls that have been wrecked by the priest in his fall; for the scandal to the faithful and to those that are without, and for the sanctity of the priesthood which has been stained, and for the Church which has been dishonoured, and for our Divine Master, who has been once more sold and betrayed. What sorrow can go beyond this? All that can be said is, "Alas, alas, my brother!"[1]
- ↑ 3 Kings, xiii. 30.
