Page:AceticLibraryV2PreparationForDeath.djvu/41

 thou drawest near to death: so do thy pleasures pass thy amusements, pomps, praises, acclamations and what remains? "The graves are ready for me." (Job xvii. I.) We shall be cast into a grave, and there we shall have to lie deprived of everything. At the moment of death the remembrance of all the delights enjoyed in life, of all the honours we have acquired, will only serve to increase the grief and the mistrust that we shall feel as to obtaining eternal salvation. The miserable wordly one will then exclaim, Alas! my house, my gardens, that furniture, those paintings, those garments, within a short time will no longer be mine! " The graves are ready for me."

Alas! for at that time no earthly possession will be regarded except with sorrow, by him who has loved it with, such devotedness. And this grief will only serve to place the salvation of the soul in greater danger; for we know that those people who are so fond of the world, at the time of death, will only permit their infirmities, the physicians who are to be called in, and the remedies which may relieve them, to be discussed; and when the condition of their souls is spoken of, they immediately grow weary, and desire that they may be left to repose, because they have a headache, and they cannot bear the noise of conversation; and when sometimes they answer, they get confused, neither do they know what to say. Even so do those die who think but little upon death.

Ah, my God and Lord of infinite greatness, I blush to appear before Thee. How often have I esteemed Thy friendship of less moment than a base pleasure, a passion of anger, a little earth, a vain whim, a vapour? I adore and kiss Thy holy wounds, which I, nevertheless, have inflicted on Thee by my sins, but, through which, however, I hope for pardon and salvation. Make me to feel, O my Jesus, the grievous wrong I have done Thee in leaving Thee Thou Who art the Fountain of all good to drink of waters which are putrid and poisonous. What do I now feel, because of all my many offences against Thee, except remorse of conscience and fruits for hell? "Father, .... I am no more worthy to be called Thy son." (S. Luke xv. 21.) My