Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/225

 too much  to  ourselves;  if  pleasure  seduce,  and  pious  works  excite our pride;  if  health  arouse  the  passions,  and  sickness  nourish either lukewar nines s  or  murmurings:  in  a  word,  if,  since  the  fall  of nature,  every  thing  in,  or  around  us,  be  a  fresh  danger  to  be  dreaded; in a  situation  so  deplorable,  what  hope  of  salvation,  O,  my  God! could there  be  still  remaining  to  man,  if,  from  the  bottom  of  his wretchedness, he  had  it  not  in  his  power  to  make  his  lamentations to be  continually  mounting  toward  the  throne  of  thy  mercy,  in order  to  prevail  that  thou  thyself  may  come  to  his  aid;  that  thou may interfere  to  put  a  check  upon  his  passions,  to  clear  up  his  errors, to  sustain  his  weakness,  to  lessen  his  temptations,  to  abridge his hours  of  trials,  and  to  save  him  from  his  backslidings?

The Christian  is  therefore  a  man  of  prayer;  his  origin,  his  situation, his  nature,  his  wants,  his  place  of  abode,  all  inform  him  that prayer is  necessary. The church  herself,  in  which  he  is  incorporated through  the  grace  of  regeneration,  a  stranger  here  below,  is always  plaintive  and  full  of  lamentation;  she  recognizes  her  children only  through  their  sighs,  which  they  direct  toward  their  country; and  the  Christian  who  does  not  pray,  cuts  himself  off  from the assembly  of  the  holy,  and  is  worse  than  an  unbeliever.

How comes  it  then,  my  brethren,  that  a  duty  not  only  so  essential, but  even  so  consoling  for  man,  is  at  present  so  much  neglected? How comes  it  that  it  is  considered  either  as  a  gloomy  and  tiresome duty, or  as  appropriated  solely  for  retired  souls;  insomuch,  that our instructions  upon  prayer  scarcely  interest  those  who  listen  to us,  who  seem  as  if  persuaded  that  they  are  more  adapted  to  the cloister than  to  the  court?

Whence comes  this  abuse,  and  this  universal  neglect  in  the world of  prayer? From two  pretexts,  which  I  now  mean  to  overthrow. First, they  do  not  pray,  because  they  know  not,  say  they, how to  pray;  and,  consequently,  that  it  is  lost  time. Secondly, they do  not  pray,  because  they  complain  that  they  find  nothing  in prayer  but  wanderings  of  the  mind,  which  render  it  both  insipid and disagreeable. First pretext,  drawn  from  their  ignorance  of  the manner in  which  they  ought  to  pray. Second pretext,  founded  on the  disgusts  and  difficulties  of  prayer. You must  be  taught,  therefore, how  to  pray,  since  you  know  it  not. And, secondly,  the  habit of prayer  must  be  rendered  easy  to  you,  since  you  find  it  so  troublesome and  difficult.

Part I. — "  The  commandments  which  I  command  you,"  said formerly the  Lord  to  his  people,  "  are  neither  above  your  strength nor  the  reach  of  your  mind;  they  are  not  hidden  from  you,  nor  far off,  that  you  should  say,  who  shall  go  up  for  us  to  heaven  and  bring them  unto  us,  that  we  may  hear  them  and  do  them?  Nor  are  they beyond  the  sea,  that  you  should  say,  who  shall  go  over  the  sea  for us  and  bring  them  unto  us,  that  we  may  hear  them  and  do  them? But  the  word  is  very  nigh  unto  you,  in  your  mouth,  and  in  your heart,  that  you  may  do  it."

Now, what  the  Lord  said  in  general  of  all  the  precepts  of  the