Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/524

 and exhausted  so  much  praise, — not  those  public  records  in  which are set  down  the  nobility  of  our  birth,  the  antiquity  of  our  origin, the fame  of  our  ancestors,  the  dignities  which  have  rendered them illustrious,  the  lustre  which  we  have  added  to  their  name, and all  the  history,  as  I  may  say,  of  human  illusion  and  weakness; that  immortality  so  vaunted,  which  it  promised  to  us, shall be  buried  in  the  ruins  and  in  the  wrecks  of  the  universe;  but  there  we  shall  see  the  most  shocking  and  exact  history of  our  heart,  of  our  mind,  of  our  imagination;  that  is  to  say, that internal  and  invisible  part  of  our  life,  equally  unknown  to  ourselves as  to  the  rest  of  men.

Yes, my  brethren,  besides  the  exterior  history  of  our  manners, which will  be  all  recalled,  what  will  most  astonish  us  is,  the  secret history of  our  heart,  which  will  then  be  wholly  laid  open  to  our eyes; of  that  heart  which  we  have  never  sounded,  never  known;  of that  heart  which  continually  eluded  our  search,  and,  under  specious names,  disguised  from  us  the  shame  of  its  passions;  of  that heart whose  elevation,  probity,  magnanimity,  disinterestedness,  and natural goodness  we  have  so  much  vaunted,  which  the  public  error and adulation  had  beheld  as  such,  and  which  had  occasioned  our being exalted  above  other  men. So many  shameful  desires,  which were scarcely  formed  before  we  endeavoured  to  conceal  them  from ourselves; so  many  absurd  projects  of  fortune  and  elevation,  sweet delusions, up  to  which  our  seduced  heart  continually  gave  itself; so many  secret  and  mean  jealousies  which  were  the  invisible  principle of  all  our  conduct,  yet,   nevertheless,  which  we  dissembled through pride;    so  many  criminal  dispositions  which  had  a  thousand times  induced  us  ardently  to  wish  that  either  the  pleasures  of the  senses  were  eternal,  or  that,  at  least,  they  should   remain  unpunished;  so  many  hatreds  and  animosities,  which  unknown  to ourselves,  had  corrupted  our  heart;  so  many  defiled  and  vicious  intentions, with  regard  to  which  we  were  so  ingenious  in  flattering ourselves; so  many  projects  of  iniquity  to  which  opportunity  had alone been  wanting,  and  which  we  reckoned  as  nothing  because they had  never  departed  from  our  heart:  in  a  word,  that  vicissitude of passions  which  in  succession  had  possession  of  our  heart:  behold what shall  all  be  displayed  before  our  eyes. We shall  see,  says  a holy  father,  come  out,  as  from  an  ambuscade,  numberless  crimes  of which  we  could  never  believe  ourselves  capable. We shall  be shown  to  ourselves;  we  shall  be  made  to  enter  into  our  own  heart, where we  had  never  resided:  a  sudden  light  shall  clear  up  that abyss: that  mystery  of  iniquity  shall  be  revealed;  and  we  shall  see that which  of  all  we  knew  least,  that  was  ourselves.

To the  examination  of  the  evils  we  have  committed  will  succeed that of  the  good  which  we  have  failed  to  do. The endless  omissions of which  our  life  has  been  full,  and  for  which  we  had  never  felt  even remorse, will  be  recalled;  so  many  circumstances  where  our  character engaged  us  to  render  glory  to  the  truth,  and  where  we  have betrayed it  through  vile  motives  of  interest,  or  mean  compliances; so many  opportunities  of  doing  good,  provided  for  us  by  the  good-