Page:SermonsFromTheLatins.djvu/171

 eminent sanctity  open  to  him. For three  years  the fig-tree, in  the  parable,  bore  no  fruit,  but  the  fourth year it  bore,  being  watered  and  pruned. Very often, too, when  God  applies  to  the  sinner  the  pruning-knife  of  persecution — when  the  tears  flow  under affliction, disease,  and  approaching  death,  the  blessed change is  accomplished  that  gives  joy  to  heaven — a great  sinner  becomes  a  great  saint. And even before this  change  occurs,  the  poor  sinner  is  not wholly bad. Many, if  not  most,  of  his  faults  are results of  habit,  done  thoughtlessly,  and  not  near so guilty  as  they  seem. 'Neath an  ugly  hill  often  lies a gold  mine;  fathoms  deep  lie  priceless  pearls,  and  I tell  you,  friends,  deep  down  in  the  worst  of  characters, there  lie  mines  of  goodness  and  brilliant virtues, that  are  never  discovered  except  by  the plummet of  intimate  acquaintance,  or  in  some  tremendous upheaval  or  crisis. Who would  look  to  find saints among  a  rough  ship's  crew,  and  yet,  not  long since, we  were  told  of  a  band  of  them  shipwrecked  and cast away,  dying  one  by  one  rather  than  touch  the little store  of  provisions  they  had  turned  over  to  the only child  among  them. There is  nothing  particularly saintly  about  a  poor  hod-carrier,  yet,  quite lately, when  two  of  them,  a  married  man  and  a  single, were hanging  by  a  thread,  almost,  on  a  high  building in  Paris,  the  single  man  let  go  and  was  killed rather than  that  the  other's  wife  should  be  a  widow and his  children  orphans. Nor need  we  go  so  far for examples  of  this  kind. If you  care  to  mingle among the  poor  you  will  find  them,  the  most  sinful