Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/271

 united with  corruption  of  heart;  it  inspires  all  the  passions,  yet  it always  blames  the  consequences  of  them;  it  requires  you  to  study the art  of  pleasing,  and  it  despises  you  from  the  moment  that  you have succeeded;  its  lascivious  theatres  resound  with  extravagant praises of  profane  love,  and  its  conversations  consist  only  of  biting satires upon  those  who  yield  themselves  up  to  that  unfortunate tendency; it  praises  the  graces,  the  charms,  the  miserable  talents which light  up  impure  desires,  and  it  loads  you  with  everlasting shame and  reproach  from  the  moment  that  you  appear  inflamed with them. O, how  infinitely  above  description  wretched  are  those who drag  on  in  a  still  beloved  world,  and  which  they  find  themselves incapable  of  doing  without,  the  miserable  wrecks  of  reputation, either blasted  or  but  feebly  confirmed;  and  wherever  they  showthemselves,  to  arouse  the  remembrance  or  the  suspicion  of  their  crimes!

Such had  been  the  afflictions  and  the  disgraces  with  which  the passions and  the  debaucheries  of  our  sinner  were  followed;  but her penitence  restores  to  her  more  honour  and  more  glory  than had been  taken  from  her  by  the  infamy  of  her  crimes. This sinner, so despised  in  the  world,  whose  name  was  never  mentioned  without a  blush,  is  praised  for  the  very  things  which  even  the  world considers as  most  honourable,  namely,  kindness  of  heart,  generosity of sentiments,  and  the  fidelity  of  a  holy  love;  this  sinner,  with whom no  comparison  durst  ever  be  made,  and  whose  scandal  was without example  in  the  city,  is  exalted  above  the  Pharisee;  the truth, the  sincerity  of  her  faith,  of  her  compunction,  of  her  love, merits at  once  the  preference  over  a  superficial  and  pharisaical virtue: lastly,  this  sinner,  whose  name  was  concealed,  as  if  unworthy of  being  pronounced,  and  whose  only  appellation  is  that  of her  crimes,  is  become  the  glory  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  praise  of  grace, and an  honour  to  the  Gospel. O matchless  power  of  virtue!

Yes, my  brethren,  virtue  renders  us  a  spectacle,  worthy  of  God, of angels,  and  of  men:  it  once  more  exalts  a  fallen  reputation:  it renews  our  claim,  even  here  below,  to  rights  and  honours  which  we had  forfeited:  it  washes  our  stains,  which  the  malignity  of  men would wish  to  be  immortal:  it  rejoins  us  to  the  servants  of  Jesus Christ, and  to  the  society  of  the  just,  of  whose  intercourse  we were  formerly  unworthy:  it  calls  forth  in  us  a  thousand  laudable qualities, which  the  vortex  of  the  passions  had  almost  for  ever  ingulfed:  lastly,  it  attracts  more  glory  to  us  than  our  past  manners had attached  shame  and  contempt. While Jonah  is  rebellious  to the  will  of  God,  he  is  the  curse  of  heaven,  and  of  the  earth;  even idolaters are  under  the  necessity  of  separating  him  from  their  society, and  of  casting  him  out  as  a  child  of  infamy  and  malediction; and the  belly  of  a  monster  is  the  only  asylum  in  which  he  can  conceal his  reproach  and  shame. But, touched  with  contrition, scarcely hath  he  implored  the  eternal  mercies  of  the  God  of  his fathers, when  he  becomes  the  admiration  of  the  proud  Nineveh; when the  grandees  and  the  people  unite  to  render  him  honours  till then unheard  of;  when  the  prince  himself,  full  of  respect  for  his virtue, descends  from  the  throne,  and  covers  himself  with  sackcloth and ashes,  in  obedience  to  the  man  of  God. Those passions  which