It is not only the honour of France which is interested in the annihilation of these vain disputes; the honour of religion is still more concerned in it, on account of the obstacles which they oppose to the conversion of unbelievers. I will suppose that one of those men, who have had the misfortune, in our times, to attack religion in their writings, and against whom the Jesuits and the Jansenists have equally exerted themselves, should address at the same time the two most intrepid theologists of each party, and speak to them thus: “You are right, gentlemen, to cry out shame against me, and it is my intention to repair it. Dictate to me then in concert a confession of faith proper for the purpose, and which may reconcile me first with God, and afterwards with every one of you.” On the very first article of the creed, “I believe in God the Father Almighty,” he would infallibly set by the ears the two Catechists, by asking them if God is equally powerful over the heart and over the body? “Without doubt,” the Jansenist would aver: “Not quite so,” the Jesuit would mutter. “You are a blasphemer,” the former would cry; “And you,” would reply the second, “a destroyer of the freedom and the merit of good works.” Both addressing themselves afterward to their proselyte, would say to him, “Ah, Sir, infidelity is still better than the abominable doctrine of my adversary: beware of confiding your soul to such bad hands. If the blind,” says the Gospel, “lead the blind, they will both fall into the ditch.” It must be owned, that the blind infidel would find himself a little embarrassed between two men, who offer each to serve him as guide, and yet mutually charge each other with being blinder than him. “Gentlemen,” would he say to them, without doubt, “I thank you both for your charitable offers: God has given me, to conduct me in the dark, a staff, which is reason, and which you say will lead me to the faith: well, I will make use of this salutary staff, and I will draw from it more utility than from you two.”