Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/162

 to swallow  a  mortal  poison,  would  you  put  off  to  another  day the trial  of  the  only  antidote  which  might  save  your  life? Would the agent  of  death,  which  you  carried  in  your  bowels,  allow  of  delays and  neglect? Such is  your  state. If you  be  wise,  have  instant recourse  to  your  precautions. You carry  death  in  your  soul, since in  it  you  carry  sin;  hasten  to  apply  the  remedy,  since  every moment is  precious  to  him  who  cannot  depend  on  one. The poisonous beverage  which  infects  your  soul  cannot  long  be  trifled with; the  goodness  of  God  still  holds  out  to  you  a  cure;  hasten, once more  I  say,  to  secure  it,  while  it  is  not  yet  too  late. Should entreaties be  necessary  to  determine  your  compliance,  ought  not the prospect  of  relief  to  be  sufficient? Is it  necessary  to  exhort  an unfortunate  wretch,  just  sinking  in  the  waves,  to  exert  his  endeavours to  save  himself? Ought you,  in  this  matter,  to  have  occasion for  our  ministry? Your last  hour  approaches;  you  soon  shall have to  appear  before  the  tribunal  of  God. You may  usefully  employ the  moment  which  yet  remains  to  you;  almost  all  those, whose departure  from  this  world  you  are  daily  witnessing,  allow  it to  slip  from  them,  and  die  without  having  reaped  any  advantage from it. You imitate  their  neglect;  the  same  surprise  awaits you, and,  like  them,  you  will  be  cut  off  before  the  work  of  reformation has  commenced. They had  been  warned  of  it,  and in the  same  manner  we  warn  you;  their  misery  touches  you  not; and the  unfortunate  lot  which  awaits  you,  will  not  more  sensibly affect those  to  whom  we  shall  one  day  announce  it;  it  is  a  succession of  blindness,  which  passes  from  father  to  son,  and  is  perpetuated on  the  earth:  we  all  wish  to  live  better,  and  we  all  die  before we have  begun  to  reform.

Such, my  brethren,  are  the  prudent  and  natural  reflections which the  uncertainty  of  our  last  hour  should  lead  us  to  make. But if,  on  account  of  its  uncertainty,  you  are  imprudent  in  paying no more  attention  to  it,  than  as  if  it  were  never  to  arrive,  the  fearful portion attending  its  certainty  still  less  excuses  your  folly,  in  striving to remove  that  melancholy  image  from  your  mind,  under  the  pretence of its  only  tending  to  empoison  every  comfort,  and  to  destroy  the tranquillity of  life. This is  what  I  have  still  to  lay  before  you.

Part II. — Man loves  not  to  dwell  upon  his  nothingness  and meanness; whatever  recalls  to  him  his  origin  puts  him  in  mind also of  his  end,  wounds  his  pride,  interests  his  self-love,  attacks  the foundation of  all  his  passions,  and  gives  birth  to  gloomy  and  disagreeable ideas. To die,  to  disappear  from  the  earth,  to  enter  the  dark abyss of  eternity,  to  become  a  carcass,  the  food  of  worms,  the  horror of  men,  the  hideous  inmate  of  a  tomb;  that  sight  alone  revolts every sense,  distracts  reason,  blackens  imagination,  and  empoisons every comfort  in  life;  we  dare  not  fix  our  looks  on  so  hideous  an image;  we  reject  that  thought,  as  the  most  gloomy  and  bitter  of all. We dread,  we  fly  from  every  thing  which  may  force  its  remembrance on  our  mind,  as  though  it  would  hasten  the  approach of the  fatal  hour. Under a  pretence  of  tenderness,  we  love  not  to