Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/182

 I say,  whether  they  recall  the  past;  and  here,  my  brethren, figure to  yourselves  a  righteous  character  on  the  bed  of  death, who has  long,  by  the  practice  of  Christian  works,  prepared  himself for this  last  moment,  has  amassed  a  treasure  of  righteousness, that he  may  not  appear  empty-handed  in  the  presence  of  his  Judge, and has  lived  in  faith,  that  he  may  die  in  peace,  and  in  all  the consolations of  hope;  figure  to  yourselves  this  soul,  reaching  at last  that  final  hour  of  which  he  had  never  lost  sight,  and  with which he  had  always  connected  all  the  troubles,  all  the  wants,  all the self-denials,  all  the  events  of  his  mortal  life:  I  say  that  nothing  is more  soothing  to  him  than  the  remembrance  of  the  past, — of  his sufferings, of  his  mortifications,  of  all  the  trials  which  he  has  undergone. Yes, my  brethren,  it  appears  frightful  to  you  at  present to suffer  for  God;  the  smallest  exertions  upon  yourselves,  required by religion,  seem  to  overpower  you;  you  consider  as  unhappy those who  bear  the  yoke  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  who,  to  please  him, renounce the  world  and  all  its  charms;  but,  on  the  bed  of  death, the most  soothing  reflection  to  a  faithful  soul  is  the  remembrance of what  he  has  suffered  for  his  God. He then  comprehends  all the merit  of  penitence,  and  how  absurd  men  are  to  dispute  with God a  moment  of  constraint,  which  will  be  entitled  to  the  recompense of  a  felicity  without  end  and  without  measure;  for  then his consolation  is,  that  he  has  sacrificed  only  the  gratifications  of  a moment,  of  which  there  would  only  remain  to  him  now  the  confusion and  the  shame, — that  whatever  he  might  have  suffered  for the world,  would  in  this  moment  be  lost  to  him;  on  the  contrary, that the  smallest  suffering  for  God,  a  tear,  a  mortification,  a  vain pleasure sacrificed,  an  improper  desire  repressed  will  never  be  forgotten, but  shall  last  as  long  as  God  himself. What consoles  him is, that  of  all  the  human  luxuries  and  enjoyments,  alas! on the  bed of death,  there  remain  no  more  to  the  sinner  who  has  always  indulged in them,  than  to  the  righteous  man  who  has  always  abstained  from them; that  they  are  equally  past  to  them  both;  but  that  the  one shall bear  eternally  the  guilt  of  having  delivered  himself  up  to them,  and  the  other  the  glory  of  having  known  how  to  vanquish  them.

This is  what  the  past  offers  to  a  faithful  soul  on  the  bed  of death:  sufferings,  afflictions,  which  have  endured  but  a  little  while, and are  now  to  be  eternally  rewarded, — the  time  of  dangers  and temptations past, — the  attacks  made  by  the  world  upon  his  faith at last  terminated, — the  trials  in  which  his  innocence  had  run  so many  risks,  at  last  disappeared, — the  occasions  in  which  his  virtue had so  nearly  been  shipwrecked,  at  last,  for  ever  removed, — the continual combats  which  he  had  to  sustain  against  his  passions,  at last  ended, — and  every  obstacle  which  flesh  and  blood  had  always placed in  the  way  of  his  piety,  for  ever  annihilated. How sweet  it is,  when  safely  arrived  in  port,  to  recall  the  remembrance  of  past dangers and  tempests! When victorious  in  the  race,  how  pleasing to retrace,  in  imagination,  our  exertions,  and  to  review  those  parts of the  course  most  distinguished  by  the  toils,  the  obstacles,  and the difficulties  which  have  rendered  them  celebrated.