Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/178

 whom we  see  not,  and  not  to  love  beings  whom  we  perceive,  and who interest  all  our  senses. Ah! in this  last  moment,  he  shall  see only God;  the  hitherto  invisible  will  now  be  visible  to  him;  his senses, already  extinguished,  will  reject  all  sensual  objects;  all  shall vanish around  him;  and  God  will  take  place  of  those  delusions which had  misled  and  deceived  him  through  life.

Thus every  thing  changes  to  this  unfortunate  wretch;  and  these changes, with  his  separations  and  surprises,  occasion  the  last  bitterness of  the  spectacle  of  death.

Change in  his  credit  and  in  his  authority. — From the  moment that nothing  farther  is  to  be  expected  from  his  life,  the  world ceases to  reckon  upon  him;  his  pretended  friends  withdraw;  his dependants already  seek,  elsewhere,  other  protectors,  and  other masters; even  his  slaves  are  employed  in  securing  to  themselves, after his  death,  an  establishment  which  may  suit  them;  scarcely, does a  sufficient  number  remain  around  him  to  catch  his  last  sighs. All abandon  him;  all  withdraw  themselves;  he  no  longer  sees around him  that  eager  crowd  of  worshippers;  it  is  a  successor,  perhaps, upon  whom  they  already  lavish  the  same  attentions;  whilst he, says  Job,  alone  in  the  bed  of  his  anguish,  is  no  longer  surrounded but  by  the  horrors  of  death;  already  enters  into  that  frightful solitude  which  the  grave  prepares  for  him,  and  makes  bitter reflections on  the  inconstancy  of  the  world  and  the  little  dependence to be  placed  on  men.

Change in  the  public  esteem,  with  which  he  had  been  so  flattered, so  intoxicated. — Alas! that world,  by  which  he  had  been so celebrated,  has  already  forgotten  him. The change  which  his death shall  necessarily  occasion  in  the  scene,  may,  perhaps  engage for a  few  days  the  public  attention;  but  this  short  interval  over, and he  shall  be  plunged  in  oblivion;  scarcely  will  it  be  remembered that  he  has  existed;  every  tongue  will  now  be  employed  in celebrating  the  abilities  of  a  successor,  and  exalting  his  character upon the  wrecks  of  his  memory  and  reputation. He already  perceives this  neglect;  that  he  has  only  to  die,  and  the  blank  will speedily be  filled  up;  that  no  vestige  of  him  shall  even  remain  in the  world;  and  that  the  upright  alone,  who  had  seen  him  surrounded with  all  his  pomp,  will  say  to  themselves,  Where  is  he now? Where now  are  those  flatterers,  which  his  greatness  attracted? Behold to  what  the  world  conducts,  and  what  is  to  be the  portion  of  those  who  serve  it!

Change in  his  body. — That flesh,  which  he  had  flattered,  idolized so much;  that  vain  beauty,  which  had  attracted  so  many  glances, and corrupted  so  many  hearts,  is  already  but  a  spectacle  of  horror, whose sight  is  hardly  supportable;  it  is  no  longer  but  a  carcass, which is  approached  with  dread. That unfortunate  creature,  who had lighted  up  so  many  unjust  passions:  alas! his friends,  his  relations, even  his  slaves  avoid  him,  conceal  themselves,  dare  not approach him  but  with  precaution,  and  no  longer  bestow  upon him but  the  common  offices  of  decency,  and  even  these  with  reluctance. He himself  shrinks  with  horror,  and  shudders  at  himself.