Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/127

 awarded him? Would he  be  embarrassed  how  to  use  it? Would he search  for  frivolous  amusements  to  assist  him  to  pass  those precious  moments  which  were  left  him  to  merit  his  pardon  and  deliverance? Would he  not  endeavour  to  profit  by  an  interval  so decisive  with  regard  to  his  destiny? Would he  not  replace,  by the  anxiety,  vivacity,  and  continuance  of  his  exertions,  what  might be wanting  from  the  brevity  of  the  time  allowed  to  him? Fools that we  are! Our sentence  is  pronounced;  our  guilt  renders  our condemnation certain:  we  are  left  a  single  day  to  shun  the  evil, and to  change  the  rigour  of  our  eternal  decree;  and  this  only  day, this rapid  day,  we  indolently  pass  in  occupations  vain,  slothful,  and puerile.

This precious  day  is  a  burden  to  us,  wearies  us;  we  seek  to abridge  it;  scarcely  can  we  find  amusements  sufficient  to  fill  the  void; the evening  arrives  without  our  having  made  any  other  use  of  the day left  to  us  than  that  of  rendering  ourselves  still  more  worthy  of the  condemnation  we  had  already  merited. And, besides,  my brethren,  how  do  we  know  that  the  abuse  of  the  day,  left  to  us  by the  Almighty's  goodness,  will  not  oblige  his  justice  to  abridge  and to cut  off  a  portion  of  it? How many  unexpected  accidents  may arrest us  in  a  course  so  limited,  and  crop,  in  their  fairest  blossoms, the hopes  of  a  longer  life! How many  sudden  and  astonishing deaths do  we  see;  and  generally  the  just  punishment  of  the  unworthy use  they  had  made  of  life! What age  has  ever  witnessed more of  these  melancholy  examples? Formerly these  accidents were rare  and  singular;  at  present  they  are  events  which  happen every day. Whether it  be,  that  our  crimes  have  drawn  down  upon us this  punishment;  whether  it  be,  that  excesses  unknown  to our  forefathers  lead  us  to  them;  but  at  present  they  are  the  deaths most common  and  frequent. Number, if  you  can,  those  of  your relations, friends,  and  connexions,  whom  a  sudden  death  has  surprised without  preparation,  repentance,  or  a  moment  allowed  them to reflect  upon  themselves,  upon  that  God  whom  they  have  offended, and upon  those  crimes  which,  far  from  detesting,  they  never  had leisure sufficiently  to  be  acquainted  with.

Will you  tell  us,  after  this,  that  there  are  many  spare  moments in the  day;  that  we  must  contrive  to  amuse  ourselves  some  way or another?

There are  many  spare  moments  in  the  day! But your  guilt  consists in  leaving  them  in  that  frightful  void. The days  of  the  upright are  always  full. Spare moments  in  the  day! But are  your duties always  fulfilled? Are your  houses  regulated,  your  children instructed, the  afflicted  relieved,  the  poor  visited,  the  works  of  piety accomplished? Time is  short;  your  obligations  so  infinite;  and you can  still  find  so  many  spare  moments  in  the  day? My God! how many  holy  characters  have  in  solitude  complained  that  their days passed  too  rapidly  away;  have  borrowed  from  the  night  what the brevity  of  the  day  had  taken  from  their  labours  and  zeal;  have lamented, even  in  the  calm  and  leisure  of  their  solitude,  that  sufficient time  remained  not  for  them  to  publish  thy  praises  and  eternal