Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/311

 turn, ah! you must  break  through  inclinations  fortified  by  time; you must  hate  and  resist  yourself,  tear  yourself  from  the  dearest objects, break  asunder  the  tenderest  ties,  make  the  most  heroical efforts, you  who  are  incapable  of  the  commonest  ones. Now, I  demand, if,  in  a  matter  to  come,  or  in  uncertain  events,  we  ever  augur in favour  of  those  who  have  most  obstacles  to  surmount,  and  most difficulties to  struggle  against? Doth not  the  most  easy  always appear the  most  probable? Soften as  much  as  you  please  this truth in  your  mind;  view  it  in  the  most  favourable  light;  this  proposition on  your  eternal  destiny  is  the  most  incontestable  of  the Christian morality. It is  beyond  comparison  more  certain  that  I shall  never  be  converted,  and  that  I  shall  die  in  my  sin,  than  that the Lord  shall  have  pity  upon  me,  and  at  last  withdraw  me  from it: this  is  your  situation;  and,  if  you  can  still  be  indifferent,  and flatter yourself  in  such  a  state,  your  security,  my  dear  hearer,  terrifies me.

But I  go  farther,  and  I  entreat  you  to  listen  to  me. The sinner who, without  labouring  to  reclaim  himself,  assures  himself  of  conversion, presumes  not  in  a  fearful  uncertainty,  and  where  every thing seems  to  conclude  against  him,  but  also  in  spite  of  the  moral certainty, as  we  are  taught  by  faith,  that  he  is  lost. Here are  my proofs:  first,  you  expect  that  God  shall  convert  you;  but  how  do you  expect  it? By continually  placing  new  obstacles  in  the  way of his  grace;  by  rivetting  your  chains;  by  aggravating  your  yoke; by multiplying  your  crimes;  by  neglecting  every  opportunity  of salvation,  which,  his  solemnities,  his  mysteries,  and  even  the  terrors of  his  word  offer  to  you;  by  always  remaining  in  the  same dangers; by  changing  nothing  in  your  manners,  your  pleasures, your intimacies;  in  short,  in  every  thing  which  continues  to  nourish in  your  heart  that  fatal  passion  from  which  you  hope  that  grace shall deliver  you. How! the foolish  virgins  are  rejected,  solely  for having negligently  and  without  fervour  awaited  the  bridegroom; and you,  faithless  soul,  who  await  him  while  completing  the  measure of  your  crimes,  you  dare  to  flatter  yourself  that  you  shall  be more  favourably  treated?

Secondly. Grace is  accorded  only  to  tears,  to  solicitations,  to eager  desires;  it  requires  to  be  long  courted. Now, do  you  pray? At least,  do  you  entreat? Do you  imitate  the  importunity  of  the widow of  the  Gospel? Do you  labour,  like  Cornelius,  the  Gentile, to attract  that  grace  by  charities  and  other  Christian  works? Do you say  to  the  Lord,  every  day,  with  the  prophet,  ie  Hide  not  thy face from  me,  O  Lord,  lest  I  be  like  unto  them  that  go  down  into the pit?"  Ah!  you  say  to  him,  "  Lord,  thou  wilt  draw  me  to  thyself;  in  vain  I  resist  thee;  thou  wilt,  at  last,  break  asunder  my chains;  however  great  be  the  corruption  of  my  heart,  thou  wilt  ultimately change  it."  Fool!  what  more  likely  to  repeal  a  gift  than the  temerity  which  exacts  it,  and  even  in  the  very  moment  when most  unworthy  dares  to  claim  it  as  a  right!  Fresh  argument against  you;  grace  is  reserved  for  the  lowly  and  the  fearful,  who dread  being  refused  what  is  not  owing  to  them:  it  is  upon  these