Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/172

 these objects,  the  only  ones  which  can  occupy  his  thoughts,  or  present themselves  to  his  fancy,  only  open  to  him  the  blackest  prospects, which  overwhelm  him  with  despair.

For what  can  the  past  offer  to  a  sinner,  who,  extended  upon  the bed of  death,  begins  now  to  yield  up  dependence  upon  life,  and reads, in  the  countenances  of  those  around  him,  the  dreadful  intelligence that  all  is  over  with  him? What now  does  he  see  in that  long  course  of  days  which  he  has  run  through  upon  the  earth? Alas! he sees  only  vain  cares  and  anxieties;  pleasures  which  passed away before  they  could  be  enjoyed,  and  iniquities  which  must  endure for  ever.

Vain cares. His whole  life,  which  now  appears  to  have  occupied but a  moment,  presents  itself  to  him,  and  in  it  he  views  nothing  but one continued  restraint  and  a  useless  agitation. He recalls  to  his mind all  he  has  suffered  for  a  world  which  now  flies  from  him; for a  fortune  which  now  vanishes;  for  a  vain  reputation,  which accompanies him  not  into  the  presence  of  God;  for  friends,  whom he loses;  for  masters,  who  will  soon  forget  him;  for  a  name, which will  be  written  only  on  the  ashes  of  his  tomb. What regret must  agitate  the  mind  of  this  unfortunate  wretch,  when  he sees  that  his  whole  life  has  been  one  continued  toil,  yet  that  nothing to the  purpose  has  been  accomplished  for  himself! What regret, to have  so  often  done  violence  to  his  inclinations,  without  gaining the advance  of  a  single  step  toward  heaven! — to have  always  believed himself  too  feeble  for  the  service  of  God,  and  yet  to  have  had the strength  and  the  constancy  to  fall  a  martyr  to  vanity  and  to  a world  which  is  on  the  eve  of  perishing!

Alas! it is  then  that  the  sinner,  overwhelmed,  terrified  at  his  own blindness and  mistake,  no  longer  finding  but  an  empty  space  in  a life  which  the  world  had  alone  engrossed;  perceiving,  that,  after a long  succession  of  years  upon  the  earth,  he  has  not  yet  begun to live;  leaving  history,  perhaps,  full  of  his  actions,  the  public monuments loaded  with  the  transactions  of  his  life,  the  world  filled with his  name,  and  nothing,  alas! which deserves  to  be  written  in the  book  of  eternity,  or  which  may  follow  him  into  the  presence  of God. Then it  is,  though  too  late,  that  he  begins  to  hold  a  language to  himself,  which  we  have  frequent  opportunities  of  hearing. "I have  lived,  then,  only  for  vanity?  Why  have  I  not  served my  God  as  I  have  served  my  masters?  Alas!  were  so  many anxieties,  and  so  much  trouble,  necessary  to  accomplish  my  own destruction?  Why,  at  least,  did  I  not  receive  my  consolation  in this  world?  I  should  have  enjoyed  the  present,  that  fleeting  moment which  passes  away  from  me;  and  I  should  not  then  have  lost  all. But  my  life  has  been  always  filled  with  anxieties,  subjections, fatigues,  and  restraints,  and  all  these  in  order  to  prepare  for  me everlasting  misery.  What  madness,  to  have  suffered  more  toward my  own  ruin,  than  was  required  to  have  accomplished  my  salvation;  and  to  have  regarded  the  life  of  the  upright,  as  a  melancholy and  an  insupportable  one;  seeing  they  have  done  nothing  so  difficult for  God,  that  I  have  not  performed  an  hundred-fold  for  the