Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/35

 ing. When Jesus  Christ  declares  that  his  yoke  is  light  and  easy, he commands  us,  at  the  same  time,  to  bear  it  every  day. The unction is  attached  to  the  habit  and  usage  of  it:  the  arms  of  Saul were heavy  to  David,  only  because  he  was  not  accustomed  to  them. We must  familiarize  ourselves  with  virtue,  in  order  to  be  acquainted with  its  holy  attractions. The pleasures  of  sinners  are only superficially  agreeable;  the  first  moments  alone  are  pleasant; descend deeper,  and  you  no  longer  find  but  gall  and  bitterness; and the  deeper  you  go,  the  more  will  you  find  the  void,  the  weariness, and  the  satiety  that  are  inseparable  from  sin. Virtue, on the  contrary,  is  a  hidden  manna:  in  order  to  taste  all  its  sweetness, it is  necessary  to  dig  for  it;  but  the  more  you  advance,  the  more do its  consolations  abound;  in  proportion  as  the  passions  are calmed, the  path  becomes  easy;  and  the  more  will  you  applaud yourselves for  having  broken  asunder  chains  which  weighed  you down, and  which  you  no  longer  bore  but  with  reluctance  and secret sorrow.

Thus, while  you  confine  yourselves  to  simple  essays  in  virtue,  you will taste  only  the  repugnances  and  the  bitterness  of  it;  and,  as you  will  not  possess  the  fidelity  of  the  upright,  you  can  have  no right,  consequently,  to  expect  their  consolations.

In a  word,  you  perform  the  duties  of  piety  without  inclination, not only  because  you  do  them  too  seldom,  but  because  you  only, as I  may  say,  half  perform  them. You pray,  but  it  is  without recollection; you  abstain,  perhaps,  from  injuring  your  enemy,  but it is  without  loving  him  as  your  brother;  you  approach  the  holy mysteries, but  without  bringing  there  that  fervour  which  alone  can enable you  to  find  in  them  those  ineffable  comforts  which  they communicate to  the  religious  soul;  you  sometimes  separate  yourselves from  the  world,  but  you  carry  not  with  you  into  retirement the silence  of  the  senses  and  of  the  passions,  without  which  it  is only  a  melancholy  fatigue. In a  word,  you  only  half  carry  the yoke. Now, Jesus  Christ,  is  not  divided. That Simon  of  Cyrene, who bore  only  a  part  of  the  cross,  was  overcome  by  it,  and  the soldiers were  under  the  necessity  of  using  violence  to  force  him  to continue  this  melancholy  office  to  the  Saviour  of  the  world. The fulness alone  of  the  law  is  consolatory;  in  proportion  as  you  retrench from  it,  it  becomes  heavy  and  irksome;  the  more  you  wish to soften  it,  the  more  it  weighs  you  down. On the  contrary,  by sometimes  adding  extraneous  rigours,  you  feel  the  load  diminished, as if  you  had  applied  additional  softness. Whence comes  this? It is  that  the  imperfect  observance  of  the  law  takes  its  source  from a heart  which  the  passions  still  share. Now, according  to  the word of  Jesus  Christ,  a  heart  divided,  and  which  nourishes  two loves, must  be  a  kingdom  and  a  theatre  full  of  trouble  and desolation.

Would you  wish  a  natural  image  of  it,  drawn  from  the  holy Scriptures? Rebecca, on  the  point  of  her  delivery  of  Jacob  and Esau, suffered  the  most  cruel  anguish:  the  two  children  struggled within her;  and,  as  if  worn  out  by  her  tortures,  she  intreated  of