Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/318

 in the  unjust  idea  formed  of  the  divine  justice. They persuade themselves that,  man  being  born  with  violent  inclinations  for  pleasure, our  errors  are  more  worthy  of  the  pity  than  of  the  anger  of the  Lord;  and  that  our  weakness  alone  solicits  his  favour,  in  place of arming  his  indignation  against  us.

But, in  the  first  place,  it  might  be  said  to  you,  that  the  corruption of  your  nature  comes  not  from  the  Creator;  that  it  is  the  work of man,  and  the  punishment  of  his  sin;  that  the  Lord  had  created man righteous;  and  consequently,  that  this  unfortunate  tendency, of which  you  complain,  is  an  irregularity  which  God  must  punish whenever you  fall  under  it;  how  then  can  you  suppose  that  it  shall serve you  as  an  excuse? It is  in  consequence  of  it  that  you  are  a child  of  wrath  and  an  outcast  vessel:  how  do  you  pretend  to  draw reasons from  thence,  in  order  to  enter  into  contestation  even  with God, and  to  challenge  his  j  ustice? It is,  in  a  word,  in  consequence of it  that  you  are  unworthy  of  all  favours:^how  dare  you  to  hold  it out  as  a  reason  for  demanding  them?

Secondly. It might  be  said  to  you,  that  whatever  be  the  weakness of  our  will,  man  is  always  master  of  his  desires;  that  he  hath been left  under  the  charge  of  his  own  resolution;  that  his  passions have no  more  empire  over  him  than  what  he  himself  chooses  to allow  them;  and  that  water,  as  well  as  fire,  hath  been  placed  in  our way, in  order  to  allow  a  perfect  freedom  of  choice  to  our  own  will. Ah! I could  herein  attest  your  own  conscience,  and  demand  of you,  above  all,  of  you,  my  dear  hearer,  if,  in  spite  of  your  weakness, whenever  you  have  forsaken  the  law  of  God,  you  have  not  felt that it  wholly  depended  upon  yourself  to  have  continued  faithful? If piercing  lights  have  not  discovered  to  you  all  the  horror  of  your transgression; if  secret  remorses  have  not  turned  you  away  from  it; if you  have  not  then  hesitated  between  pleasure  and  duty;  if,  after a thousand  internal  deliberations,  and  those  secret  vicissitudes, where one  while  grace,  and  the  other  while  cupidity  gained  the victory, you  have  not  at  last  declared  for  guilt,  as  if  still  trembling, and ^almost  unable  to  harden  yourself  against  yourself? I might go even  farther,  and  demand  of  you,  if,  considering  the  happy  inclinations of  modesty  and  of  reserve,  the  dispositions  with  which God had  favoured  you  at  your  birth,  the  innocency  of  virtue  would not have  been  more  natural,  more  pleasing,  and  more  easy  to  you than the  licentiousness  of  vice;  demand  of  you,  if  you  have  not suffered more  by  being  unfaithful  to  your  God,  than  it  would  have cost you  to  have  been  righteous;  if  you  have  not  been  obliged  to encroach  more  upon  yourself,  to  do  more  violence  to  your  heart,  to bear  with  more  vexations,  to  force  your  way  through  more  intricate and more  arduous  paths? Ah! what then  can  the  justice  of  God find in  your  dissipations  which  doth  not  furnish  to  him  fresh  matter of severity  and  anger  against  you?

Lastly. It might  be  added,  that,  if  you  are  born  weak,  yet  the goodness of  God  hath  environed  your  soul  with  a  thousand  aids; that it  is  that  well-beloved  vine  which  he  hath  fostered  with  the tenderest care,  which  he  hath  fenced  with  a  deep  moat,  and  forti-