Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/310

 For confess  it,  my  dear  hearer,  inveterate  sinner  as  you  are,  abiding, as  you  tranquilly  do,  in  iniquitous  passions,  in  the  midst  even of all  the  solemnities  of  religion,  and  of  all  the  terrors  of  the  holy word, upon  the  foolish  hope  of  one  day,  at  last,  quitting  this  deplorable state;  you  cannot  deny  that  it  is  at  least  doubtful  whether you shall  retrieve  yourself,  or,  even  to  the  end,  remain  in  your  sin. I even  admit  you  to  be  full  of  good  desires:  but  you  are  not  ignorant that  desires  convert  nobody,  and  that  the  greatest  sinners  are often those  who  most  long  for  their  conversion. Now, the  doubt here only  equal,  would  you  be  prudent  in  remaining  careless? What! In the  frightful  uncertainty  whether  you  shall  die  in  your irregularity, or  if  God  shall  withdraw  you  from  it;  floating,  as  I may  say,  between  heaven  and  hell;  on  the  poise  between  these  two destinies, you  could  be  indifferent  on  the  decision? Hope is  the sweetest and  most  flattering  choice;  and  for  that  reason  you  would incline to  its  side? Ah! my dear  hearer,  were  there  no  other  reason to be  afraid  than  that  of  hoping,  you  would  not  be  prudent  to  live in this  profound  calm.

But such  is  not  even  your  case;  things  are  far  indeed  from  being equal; in  this  shocking  doubt  which  every  sinner  may  inwardly form, — ei Shall  I  expire  in  mine  iniquity,  in  the  sin  in  which  I  actually and  have  so  long  lived;  or  shall  I  not  die  in  it?" — the  first part  is  infinitely  the  most  probable.  For,  first,  your  own  powers are  not  sufficient  to  regain  that  sanctity  you  have  lost;  a  foreign, supernatural,  and  heavenly  aid  is  necessary,  of  which  nobody  can assure  you;  in  place  of  which,  you  need  only  yourself  to  remain in  your  sin:  there  is  nothing  in  your  nature  which  can  resuscitate the  grace  lost,  no  seed  of  salvation,  no  principle  of  spiritual  life;  and you  bear  in  your  heart  a  fatal  source  of  corruption  which  may  every day  produce  fresh  fruits  of  death:  it  is  more  likely,  therefore,  that  you shall  die  in  your  guilt  than  it  is  that  you  shall  be  converted.  Secondly, not  only  is  a  foreign  and  divine  aid  necessary,  but  also  an aid  uncommon,  rare,  denied  to  almost  all  sinners;  in  short,  a  miracle for your  conversion;  for  the  conversion  of  the  sinner  is  one  of  the greatest prodigies  of  grace,  and  you  know  yourself  that  such  instances are  extremely  rare  in  the  world;  now  and  then  some  fortunate soul  whom  God  writhdraweth  from  licentiousness. But these are  remarkable  exertions  of  the  Divine  mercy,  and  not  in  the common track. In place  of  which,  you  have  only  to  let  things  pursue their  natural  course,  and  you  shall  die  such  as  you  are:  God hath only  to  follow  his  ordinary  laws,  and  your  destruction  is  certain;  the  possibility  of  your  salvation  is  founded  solely  on  a  singular effort of  his  power  and  mercy;  the  certitude  of  your  condemnation is founded  upon  the  commonest  of  all  rules:  in  a  word,  that  you perish, is  the  ordinary  lot  of  sinners  who  resemble  you;  that  you are converted,  is  a  singularity  of  which  there  are  few  examples. Thirdly, in  order  to  continue  in  your  present  state,  you  have  only to follow  your  inclinations,  to  yield  yourself  up  to  yourself,  and quietly to  allow  yourself  to  be  carried  down  by  the  stream;  to  do this  you  have  occasion  for  neither  effort  nor  violence;  but  to  re-