Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/131

 with thy  gifts,  and,  in  consequence  of  them,  capable  of  works  worthy of eternity! What a  life  is  that  life  which,  in  reality,  is  nothing, has nothing  in  view,  and  fills  up  a  time  which  is  decisive  of  its eternal destiny,  in  doing  nothing,  and  reckoning  as  well  passed those days  and  hours  which  imperceptibly  slip  away!

But if  inutility  be  opposite  to  the  price  of  time,  irregularity  and multiplicity of  occupations  are  not  less  so  to  the  proper  order  of time,  and  to  the  Christian  use  we  ought  to  make  of  it. You have just seen  the  dangers  of  a  slothful,  and  I  will  now  lay  before  you the inconveniences  of  a  hurried  life.

Part II. — To every  thing  we  have  hitherto  said,  my  brethren, the majority  of  those  who  listen  to  me  have,  no  doubt,  secretly opposed, that  their  life  is  any  thing  but  slothful  and  useless;  that scarcely can  they  suffice  for  the  duties,  good  offices,  and  endless engagements of  their  stations;  that  they  live  in  an  eternal  vicissitude of  occupations  and  business  which  absorbs  their  whole  life;. and that  they  think  themselves  happy  when  they  can  accomplish a moment  for  themselves,  and  enjoy,  at  leisure,  the  situation  which their fortune  denies  to  them.

Now this,  my  brethren  is  a  new  way  of  abusing  time,  still  more dangerous than  even  inutility  and  indolence. In effect,  the  Christian use  of  time  is  not  merely  the  filling  up  of  all  its  moments;  it is  that  of  filling  them  up  in  order,  and  according  to  the  will  of  the Lord, who  gives  them  to  us. The life  of  faith  is  a  life  of  regularity and  wisdom:  fancy,  passion,  pride,  and  cupidity,  are  false  prinples  of  conduct,  since  they  themselves  are  only  a  derangement  of the  mind  and  heart;  and  that  order  and  reason  ought  to  be  our only guides.

Nevertheless, the  life  of  the  majority  of  men  is  a  life  always occupied and  always  useless;  always  laborious,  and  always  void: their passions  give  birth  to  all  their  motions:  these  are  the  great springs which  agitate  men;  make  them  run  here  and  there  like madmen; and  leave  them  not  a  single  moment's  tranquillity;  and, in filling  up  all  their  moments,  they  seek  not  to  fulfil  their  duties, but to  deliver  themselves  up  to  their  restlessness,  and  to  satisfy their iniquitous  desires.

But in  what  does  this  order  consist,  which  ought  to  regulate  the measure of  our  occupations  and  to  sanctify  the  use  of  our  time? It consists,  in  the  first  place,  in  limiting  ourselves  to  the  occupations attached  to  our  stations;  in  not  seeking  places  and  situations which may  multiply  them;  and  in  not  reckoning,  among  our  duties, the cares  and  embarrassments  which  anxiety,  or  our  passions,  alone generate within  us. Secondly, however  agitated  may  be  our  situations, amidst  all  our  occupations,  to  regard  as  the  most  essential, and the  most  privileged,  those  we  owe  to  our  salvation.

I say,  in  the  first  place,  not  to  reckon,  amongst  the  occupations which sanctify  the  use  of  our  time,  those  which  restlessness  or  the passions alone  generate.

Restlessness! Yes, my  brethren,  we  all  wish  to  avoid  ourselves.