Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/235

 sheds a  universal  bitterness  through  the  heart,  which  renders  the invisible and  eternal  riches  insipid  and  disgusting  to  us. Thus, you never  come  to  prayer  but  with  an  insurmountable  disgust. Ah! it is  a  proof  that  your  heart  is  diseased;  that  a  secret  fever,  and perhaps unknown  to  yourself,  causes  it  to  languish,  saps  and  disgusts it;  that  it  is  engrossed  by  a  foreign  love. Mount to  the source of  your  disgusts  toward  God,  and  every  thing  connected  with him, and  see  if  they  shall  not  be  found  in  the  iniquitous  attachments of  your  heart;  see  if  you  are  not  still  a  slave  to  yourself,  to the  vain  cares  of  dress,  to  frivolous  friendships,  to  dangerous  animosities, to  secret  envies,  to  desires  of  rank,  to  every  thing  around you. These are  the  source  of  the  evil:  apply  the  remedy  to  it; take something  every  day  upon  yourself;  labour  seriously  toward purifying your  heart;  you  will  then  taste  the  comforts  and  the consolations of  prayer;  then  the  world  no  longer  engrossing  your affections, you  will  find  your  God  more  worthy  of  being  loved:  we soon  ardently  love  the  only  object  of  our  love.

And, after  all,  render  glory  here  to  the  truth. Is it  not  true, that the  days  in  which  you  have  been  more  guarded  upon  yourself, — the days  in  which  you  have  made  some  sacrifices,  to  the  Lord, of your  inclinations,  of  your  indolence,  of  your  temper,  of  your aversions; is  it  not  true,  that,  in  these  days,  you  have  addressed your prayers  to  the  Lord  with  more  peace,  more  consolation,  and more delight? We encounter,  with  double  pleasure,  the  eyes  of  a master  to  whom  we  have  lately  given  some  striking  proof  of  fidelity; on the  contrary,  we  are  in  pain  before  him  when  we  feel  that  he has  cause  of  a  thousand  just  reproaches  against  us:  we  are  then anxious and  under  restraint;  we  endeavour  to  hide  ourselves  from his view,  like  the  first  sinner:  we  no  longer  address  him  with  that overflowing heart,  and  that  confidence,  which  a  conscience  pure  and void of  offence  inspires;  and  the  moments  when  we  are  under  the necessity of  supporting  his  divine  presence  are  anxiously  counted.

Thus, when  Jesus  Christ  commands  us  to  pray,  he  begins  with ordering us  to  watch. He thereby  means  us  to  understand  that vigilance is  the  only  preparation  to  prayer;  that  to  love  to  pray,  it is  necessary  to  watch;  and  that  fondness  for,  and  consolation  in prayer,  are  granted  only  to  the  recollection  and  to  the  sacrifices  of vigilance. I know,  that,  if  you  do  not  pray,  you  can  never  watch over yourself  and  live  holily;  but  I  likewise  know,  that,  if  you  exert not that  vigilance  which  causes  to  live  holily,  you  can  never  pray with comfort  and  with  consolation. Prayer, it  is  true,  obtains  for us the  grace  of  vigilance;  but  it  is  yet  more  true,  that  vigilance alone can  draw  down  upon  us  the  gift  and  the  usage  of  the  prayer.

And, from  thence,  it  is  easy  to  conclude,  that  a  life  of  the  world, even granting  it  to  be  the  most  innocent,  that  is  to  say,  a  life  of pleasure,  continual  gaming,  dissipation,  and  theatrical  amusement, which you  call  so  innocent,  when  attended  with  no  other  harm  than that of  disqualifying  you  for  prayer;  when  this  worldly  life,  which you so  strongly  justify,  should  contain  nothing  more  criminal  than that of  disgusting  you  at  prayer,  of  drying  up  your  heart,  of  un-