Astonished at such a declaration, according to which, no sins of
surprise, nor any of those committed in entire forgetfulness of God,
could be imputed, I turned round to my friend the Jansenist and easily
discovered from his looks that he was of a different way of
thinking. But as he did not utter a word, I said to the monk, "I would
fain wish, my dear father, to think that what you have now said is
true, and that you have good proofs for it."

    "Proofs, say you!" he instantly exclaimed: "I shall furnish you
with these very soon, and the very best sort too; let me alone for
that."

    So saying, he went in search of his books, and I took this
opportunity of asking my friend if there was any other person who
talked in this manner? "Is this so strange to you?" he replied. "You
may depend upon it that neither the fathers, nor the popes, nor
councils, nor Scripture, nor any book of devotion employ such
language; but, if you wish casuists and modern schoolmen, he will
bring you a goodly number of them on his side." "O! but I care not a
fig about these authors, if they are contrary to tradition," I said.
"You are right," he replied.

    As he spoke, the good father entered the room, laden with books;
and presenting to me the first that came to hand. "Read that," he
said; "this is The Summary of Sins, by Father Bauny- the fifth edition
too, you see, which shows that it is a good book."

    "It is a pity, however," whispered the Jansenist in my ear,
"that this same book has been condemned at Rome, and by the bishops of
France."

    "Look at page 906," said the father. I did so and read as follows:
"In order to sin and become culpable in the sight of God, it is
necessary to know that the thing we wish to do is not good, or at
least to doubt that it is- to fear or to judge that God takes no
pleasure in the action which we contemplate, but forbids it; and in
spite of this, to commit the deed, leap the fence, and transgress."

    "This is a good commencement," I remarked. "And yet," said he,
"mark how far envy will carry some people. It was on that very passage
that M. Hallier, before he became one of our friends, bantered
Father Bauny, by applying to him these words: Ecce qui tollit
peccata mundi- 'Behold the man that taketh away the sins of the
world!'"

    "Certainly," said I, "according to Father Bauny, we may be said to
behold a redemption of an entirely new description."

    "Would you have a more authentic witness on the point?" added
he. "Here is the book of Father Annat. It is the last that he wrote
against M. Arnauld. Turn up to page 34, where there is a dog's ear,
and read the lines which I have marked with pencil- they ought to be
written in letters of gold." I then read these words: "He that has
no thought of God, nor of his sins, nor any apprehension (that is,
as he explained it, any knowledge) of his obligation to exercise the
acts of love to God or contrition, has no actual grace for
exercising those acts; but it is equally true that he is guilty of
no sin in omitting them, and that, if he is damned, it will not be
as a punishment for that omission." And a few lines below, he adds:
"The same thing may be said of a culpable commission."

    "You see," said the monk, "how he speaks of sins of omission and
of commission. Nothing escapes him. What say you to that?"

    "Say!" I exclaimed. "I am delighted! What a charming train of
consequences do I discover flowing from this doctrine! I can see the
whole results already; and such mysteries present themselves before
me! Why, I see more people, beyond all comparison, justified by this
ignorance and forgetfulness of God, than by grace and the
sacraments! But, my dear father, are you not inspiring me with a
delusive joy? Are you sure there is nothing here like that sufficiency
which suffices not? I am terribly afraid of the Distinguo; I was taken
in with that once already! Are you quite in earnest?"

    "How now!" cried the monk, beginning to get angry, "here is no
matter for jesting. I assure you there is no such thing as
equivocation here."

    "I am not making a jest of it, said I; "but that is what I
really dread, from pure anxiety to find it true."

    "Well then," he said, "to assure yourself still more of it, here
are the writings of M. le Moine, who taught the doctrine in a full
meeting of the Sorbonne. He learned it from us, to be sure; but he has
the merit of having cleared it up most admirably. O how
circumstantially he goes to work! He shows that, in order to make
out action to be a sin, all these things must have passed through
the mind. Read, and weigh every word." I then read what I now give you
in a translation from the original Latin: "1. On the one hand, God
sheds abroad on the soul some measure of love, which gives it a bias
toward the thing commanded; and on the other, a rebellious
concupiscence solicits it in the opposite direction. 2. God inspires
the soul with a knowledge of its own weakness. 3. God reveals the
knowledge of the physician who can heal it. 4. God inspires it with
a desire to be healed. 5. God inspires a desire to pray and solicit
his assistance."

    "And unless all these things occur and pass through the soul,"
added the monk, "the action is not properly a sin, and cannot be