Page:SermonsFromTheLatins.djvu/62

 morrow, but  of  this  you  may  be  certain,  that  the longer you  delay  like  Pharao  the  harder  will  your heart become,  till  finally  you  are  engulfed  in  the  sea of your  own  iniquities. You live  a  vulture's  life,  yet you hope  for  a  swan's  death — a  spotless  being  slowly floating down  to  the  ocean  of  eternity  chanting  the while sweet  melody. Young as  you  are  and  strong, you have  no  guarantee  of  time  sufficient  for  such  a metamorphosis,  for  our  physical  powers  are  like  the strings of  a  violin — there  is  more  danger  of  their snapping suddenly  under  the  tension  of  youth  than when relaxed  with  old  age. But even  granting  that you live  for  years  and  years,  will  your  ruling  passion be overcome  more  easily  then  than  now? Ah! a mountain rill  is  at  its  source  quite  easily  crossed,  but follow it  down  into  the  plain  and  see  how  broad  and deep it  grows. So, too,  your  sin;  the  farther,  the lower you  follow  it,  the  more  impassable  grows  the barrier between  you  and  your  God. Or will  your nature be  more  pliant  after  years  of  sin,  making  conversion easier  then  than  now? Ah! the twig  is  easily bent and  made  to  grow  this  way  or  that,  but  engines and ropes  and  chains  would  scarce  suffice  to  right  the leaning oak. And if  perchance  with  infinite  labor  the tree be  made  to  lean  from  left  to  right,  think  you  it will  retain  its  new  position,  or  will  it  not  rather  swing, back directly  the  tension  is  relaxed? So, too,  a  tardy conversion prompted  by  necessity  is  labor  in  vain, productive of  no  stable  results,  a  sham,  a  lie. But God the  just,  you  say,  the  merciful,  will  spare  me  for the little  good  I  have  done. On the  contrary. His