Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/314

 in your  memory,  the  multitude  and  the  flagrancy  of  your  iniquities;  ah! no reparation  on  your  part  shall  then  be  sufficiently rigorous, no  mortification  sufficiently  austere,  no  humiliation  sufficiently profound,  no  pleasure,  however  innocent,  which  you  must not deny  yourself,  no  indulgence  which  will  not  be  criminal:  holy excesses of  penitence  will  be  necessary  to  compensate  the  duration and the  enormity  of  your  crimes;  it  will  require  you  to  quit  all,  to tear  yourself  from  every  thing,  to  sacrifice  your  fortune,  interests, and conveniency,  perhaps  to  condemn  yourself  to  a  perpetual  retreat, for  it  is  only  through  these  means  that  the  great  sinners  are recalled. Now, if  slight  rigours,  which  would  at  present  be  sufficient amends,  appear  so  insupportable,  and  disgust  you  at  the  idea of a  change,  shall  penitence  be  more  alluring,  when  more  toils, and steps  a  thousand  times  more  bitter,  present  themselves  in  its train? My God! upon the  affair  of  salvation  alone  it  is  that  men are capable  of  such  wilful  mistakes. Ah! my brethren,  of  what avail are  great  lights,  extent  of  genius,  deep  penetration,  and  solid judgment in  the  management  of  earthly  matters,  and  of  vain  undertakings which  shall  perish  with  us,  if  we  are  children  in  the  grand work of  eternity?

And allow  me  to  conclude  this  part  of  my  Discourse  with  a  final reason, which,  I  trust  will  serve  to  convince  you. You consider the vain  hope  of  a  conversion  as  a  feeling  of  grace  and  salvation, and as  a  proof  that  the  Lord  visiteth  you,  and  that  he  hath  not  yet delivered you  up  to  all  the  inveteracy  of  sin. But, my  dear  hearer, the Lord  cannot  visit  you  in  his  mercy  without  inspiring  you  with salutary troubles  and  fears  on  the  state  of  your  conscience:  all  the operations of  grace  begin  with  these;  consequently,  while  you  continue tranquil,  it  is  evident  that  God  treateth  you  according  to  all the rigour  of  his  justice,  and  that  he  exerciseth  upon  you  the  most terrible of  his  chastisements;  I  mean  to  say,  his  neglect  and  the denial of  his  grace. Peace in  sin,  the  security  in  which  you  live, is therefore  the  most  infallible  mark  that  God  is  no  longer  with you, and  that  this  grace,  which  in  the  criminal  soul  always  works trouble and  anxiety,  dread  and  distrust,  is  totally  extinguished  in yours. Thus you  comfort  yourself  on  what  ought  to  excite  your justest fears:  the  most  deplorable  signs  of  your  reprobation  form in your  mind  the  most  solid  foundation  of  your  hope:  trust  in  sin is the  most  terrible  chastisement  with  which  God  can  punish  the sinner, and  you  draw  from  it  a  prejudication  of  salvation  and  of penitence. Tremble, if  any  remains  of  faith  be  yet  left  you:  this calm is  the  forerunner  of  a  shipwreck:  you  are  stamped  with  the mark of  the  reprobate;  reckon  not  upon  a  mercy  which  treats  you so much  the  more  rigorously,  as  it  permits  you  to  hope  and  to depend  upon  it.

The error  of  the  majority  of  sinners  is  that  of  imagining  that  the grace of  conversion  is  one  of  those  sudden  miracles  by  which  the whole face  of  things  is  changed  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye;  which plants, tears  up,  destroys,  rears  up  at  the  first  stoke,  and  in  an  instant creates  the  new  man,  as  the  earthly  man  was  formerly  drawn