Page:SermonsFromTheLatins.djvu/212

 expect to  be  ours? O God  grant  it  be  that  of  the saint, but  is  there  one  point  of  resemblance  between our lives  and  hers? O God  forbid  it  should  be  that of the  sinner,  but  are  we  not  men  of  the  world,  careless Catholics,  relapsing  sinners  like  him? If he  were freed from  hell  and  sent  back  to  live  life  over  again, what a  great  saint  he  would  become! That grace denied to  him,  God  grants  to  us  to-night. We are plodding through  life  as  though  never  to  die. Men are dying  all  round  us,  but  we  look  on  unmoved. Our hearts, like  muffled  drums,  are  beating  our  funeral march to  the  grave. The sun  will  rise  some  morning soon, and  streaming  into  our  chamber,  reveal  our bodies cold  and  stiff  and  dead. The world  will  go about  its  business  as  usual  and  we  will  be  laid  away and forgotten. These hands  of  mine  will  wither;  the flesh will  fall  from  my  face;  my  jaws,  as  though  in grim  humor  over  the  folly  of  my  life,  will  assume  that horrible death's-head  grin,  and  my  whole  body  of which  I  am  now  so  careful  will  become  one  fetid  mass of corruption  and  decay. And my  soul;  where  will it be? Ah, as  a  man  lives  so  shall  he  die. The fate  of my  soul  after  death  depends  on  the  tenor  of  my  life. Every moment  of  life  should  be  a  preparation  for death, for  on  the  issue  of  my  death  depends  the  complete success  or  failure  of  my  life. St. Aloysius  one day at  play  was  asked:  "  What  would  you  do  were you  told  you  would  die  within  the  hour?  "  and  he  replied: "  I  would  continue  my  recreation." Doing all for the  glory  of  God,  even  his  recreation  was  a  preparation for  death. Seminarists prepare  for  death