Page:SermonsFromTheLatins.djvu/210

 in the  pillow,  and  his  hands  clutch  convulsively,  making those  that  hold  them  feel  what  a  fearful  thing  it  is to  hold  the  hand  of  a  dying  man  and  feel  the  soul within him  struggling  for  liberty. But the  struggle is nearly  ended— one  last  great  effort;  a  stretching  to the  utmost  of  every  muscle  of  the  body;  a  momentary startled  expression  of  countenance,  a  ghastly  upheaval of  the  eyes,  and  then  the  mouth  gapes  slowly open and  with  one  long,  weary  moan  of  despair,  he breathes  out  his  soul. " Vengeance  is  Mine,"  saith the Lord,  "  and  I  have  repaid,  for  he  sought  Me  and he  found  Me  not,  but  he  died  in  his  sins." Oh do  not leave that  chamber  of  death  without  fully  realizing what a  fearful  thing  it  is  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the living God. Of what  good  now  to  him  are  all  that man's honors,  riches,  pleasures? They are  all  here behind him,  while  he  has  gone  forth  into  eternity  poor and naked  and  miserable. His life  was  a  failure,  for he left  undone  the  one  work  he  should  have  done;  he lost  the  one  treasure  he  should  have  gained. Not only was  his  life  a  failure,  it  was  a  lie. He belied  the God of  all  truth  by  turning  away  from  the  one  end for which  he  was  intended  and  created. He lied  to the  world  by  clothing  his  interior  corruption  in  a cloak  of  outward  respectability. He lied  to  the Church when  he  dared  to  gain  admission  to  her  sacraments by  false  promises  of  amendment. He lied  to his  little  children  by  imposing  burdens  on  them  he could  never  bear,  by  asking  them  to  practice  virtues he himself  never  possessed. And as  a  man  lives,  so shall  he  die. His life  was  a  lie;  a  lie  also  was  his