Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/183

 The righteous  man,  then,  appears  to  me,  like  another  Moses, expiring on  the  holy  mountain,  where  the  Lord  had  marked  out  to him  his  grave;  "  Get  thee  up  into  the  mountain  Abarim,  and  die," &c., Deut. xxxii. 49; who,  before  he  expired,  looking  down  from that sacred  place,  and  casting  his  eyes  over  that  extent  of  country, the nations  and  kingdoms  he  had  traversed,  and  now  leaves  behind him, — reviews, in  imagination,  the  numberless  dangers  he  had escaped, — his battles  with  so  many  conquered  nations, — the  fatigues of the  desert, — the  snares  of  Midian, — the  murmurs  and  calamities of his  brethren, — the  rocks  split  in  pieces, — the  dangers  of  Egypt avoided, — the waters  of  the  Red  Sea  got  over,  hunger,  thirst,  and weariness struggled  against, — and  touching  at  last  the  happy  term of so  many  labours,  and  viewing  from  afar  that  country  promised to his  father,  he  sings  a  song  of  thanksgiving  and  praise  to  God, dies transported  with  joy,  both  at  the  remembrance  of  so  many dangers avoided,  and  at  the  prospect  of  that  place  of  rest  which the Lord  shows  him  from  afar,  and  looks  upon  the  holy  mountain, where he  is  to  expire,  as  the  reward  of  his  toils,  and  the  happy term of  his  course.

Not that  the  remembrance  of  the  past,  in  recalling  to  the  dying righteous soul  the  trials  and  dangers  of  his  past  life,  does  not  also remind him  of  his  infidelities  and  wanderings;  but  these  are  errors expiated by  the  sighs  of  repentance,  wanderings  which  have  fortunately been  followed  by  a  renewal  of  fervour  and  fidelity,  wanderings, which  recall  to  him  the  mercies  of  God  to  his  soul,  who  hath made his  crimes  the  means  of  his  repentance,  his  passions  of  his conversion, and  his  errors  of  his  salvation. The grief  for  his  faults, in his  last  moment,  becomes  only  a  sorrow  of  consolation  and  tenderness;  the  tears  which  this  remembrance  draws  from  him  still are no  longer  but  the  tears  of  joy  and  gratitude.

The former  mercies  of  God  to  his  soul  fill  him  with  confidence, and inspire  him  with  a  just  hope  of  more;  the  past  conduct  of  God, with regard  to  him,  comforts  his  heart,  and  seems  to  answer  for what he  shall  experience  in  future. He no  longer,  as  in  the  days of his  penitence  and  mourning,  figures  to  himself  the  Almighty under the  idea  of  a  terrible  and  severe  Judge,  whom  he  had  insulted, and  whom  it  was  necessary  to  appease;  but  as  the  Father of Mercies,  and  a  God  of  all  consolation,  who  prepares  to  receive him into  his  bosom,  and  there  shelter  him  from  all  his  afflictions.

" Awake,  righteous  soul,"  says  then  to  him,  in  secret,  his  Lord  and his God;  "  Thou,  who  hast  drunken  the  dregs  of  the  cup  of  trembling, thou  shalt  no  more  drink  it  again;  the  days  of  thy  tribulation are  past.  Shake  thyself  from  the  dust,  arise,  and  sit  down; loose  thyself  from  the  bands  of  thy  neck.  O,  captive  daughter of  Zion!  put  on  thy  strength,  put  on  thy  beautiful  garments: enter  into  the  everlasting  joy  of  thy  Lord,  where  thou  shalt  obtain gladness  and  peace,  and  sorrow,  and  mourning,  shall  flee  away  f Isaiah  li.  17,  &c.

First consolation  of  the  upright  soul  in  the  bed  of  death;  the remembrance of  the  past. But all  which  takes  place  around  him;