Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/102

 appetites, that  a  retired  and  mortified  life  becomes  indispensable. It is  because  you  are  weak,  that  with  more  caution  you  ought  to shun  every  danger;  take  a  greater  command  over  yourself;  pray, watch, refuse  yourself  every  improper  gratification,  and  attain  even to holy  excesses  of  zeal  and  fervour,  in  order  to  accomplish  a  barrier against  your  weakness. You are  weak? And, because  you are weak,  you  think  you  are  entitled  to  expose  yourself  more  than another; to  dread  danger  less;  with  more  tranquillity  and  indifference to  neglect  the  necessary  remedies;  to  allow  more  to  your appetites; to  preserve  a  stronger  attachment  to  the  world,  and every thing  which  can  corrupt  the  heart? What illusion! You make your  weakness,  then,  the  title  of  your  security? In the  necessities you  have  to  watch  and  pray,  you  find,  then,  the  privilege of dispensing  with  them! And since,  whence  is  it  that  the  sick  are authorized to  allow  themselves  greater  excesses,  and  make  use  of less  precaution,  than  those  who  enjoy  a  perfect  health? Privation has always  been  the  way  of  the  weak  and  the  infirm;  and  to  allege your weakness  as  a  right  of  dispensation  from  a  more  fervent  and Christian life,  is  like  enumerating  your  complaints,  in  order  to persuade  us  that  you  have  no  occasion  for  medicine. — Second reason, drawn  from  the  passions,  which  are  strengthened  in  a  state  of lukewarmness,  and  which  proves  that  this  state  always  ends  in  a departure  from  virtue  and  the  loss  of  righteousness.

To all  these  reasons  I  should  add  a  third,  drawn  from  the  external succours  of  religion  necessary  to  the  support  of  piety;  and which become  useless  to  the  lukewarm  and  infidel  soul.

The holy  sacrament  not  only  becomes  of  no  utility,  but  even dangerous to  him;  either  by  the  coldness  with  which  he  approaches it, or  by  the  vain  confidence  with  which  it  inspires  him:  it  is  no longer  a  resource  for  him;  it  has  lost  its  effect:  like  medicines  too frequently made  use  of,  it  amuses  his  languor,  but  cannot  cure  him: it is  like  the  food  of  the  strong  and  healthy,  which,  so  far  from  reestablishing, completes  the  ruin  of  the  weak  stomach:  it  is  the breath of  the  Holy  Spirit,  which,  unable  to  re-illuminate  the  still smoking spark,  entirely  extinguishes  it;  that  is  to  say,  that  the grace of  the  holy  sacrament,  received  in  a  lukewarm  and  infidel heart, no  longer  operating  there  an  increase  of  life  and  strength,  never fails, sooner  or  later,  to  operate  the  death  and  condemnation attached to  the  abuse  of  these  divine  remedies.

Prayer, that  channel  of  grace;  that  nourishment  to  a  faithful heart; that  sweetener  of  piety;  that  refuge  against  all  attacks  of the  enemy;  that  cry  of  an  affected  soul,  which  renders  the  Lord so attentive  to  his  necessities: — prayer,  without  which  the  Almighty no longer  makes  himself  felt  within  us;  without  which  we  no longer  know  our  Father;  we  no  longer  render  thanks  to  our  benefactor, nor  appease  our  judge;  we  expose  no  longer  our  wounds to our  physician;  we  live  without  God  in  the  world: — prayer,  in a  word,  so  necessary  to  the  most  established  virtue,  to  the  lukewarm soul  is  no  longer  but  the  wearisome  occupation  of  a  distracted mind; of  a  heart  dry  and  shared  between  a  thousand  foreign  af-