Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/70

 only to  the  senses:  but  the  disgusts  of  the  world,  ah! they pierce to  the  quick;  they  mortify  all  the  passions;  they  humble pride, pull  down  vanity,  light  up  envy,  mortify  ambition,  and none of  our  feelings  escape  the  influence  of  their  sadness  and bitterness.

Thirdly. Those of  virtue  are  sensible  only  in  their  first  operation:  the  first  efforts  cost  us  much;  the  sequel  softens  and  tranquillizes them. The passions,  which  are  generally  the  occasion  of any  disgust  at  virtue,  have  this  in  particular,  that  the  more  we repress  them,  the  more  tractable  they  become;  the  violences  we do  to  them,  gradually  calm  the  heart,  and  leave  us  less  to  suffer from those  to  come:  but  the  disgusts  of  the  world  are  always  new; as they  always  find  in  us  the  same  passions,  they  always  leave  us the  same  bitternesses;  those  which  have  gone  before  only  render those that  follow  more  insupportable.

In a  word,  the  disgusts  of  the  world  inflame  our  passions,  and consequently increase  our  sufferings;  those  of  virtue  repress  them, and by  these  means  gradually  establish  peace  and  tranquillity  in our  soul.

Fourthly. The disgusts  of  the  world  happen  to  those  who  most faithfully serve  it:  it  does  not  treat  them  better,  because  they are more  devoted  to  its  party,  and  more  zealous  for  its  abuses;  on the  contrary,  the  hearts  most  ardent  to  the  world,  are  almost always those  who  experience  the  largest  share  of  its  mortifications; because they  feel  more  sensibly  its  neglect  and  injustice;  their ardour for  it  is  the  source  of  all  their  uneasinesses. But with  God, we have  only  our  coldness  to  dread;  for  the  disgusts  which  may accompany virtue,  in  general,  have  only  relaxation  and  idleness for principle;  the  more  our  ardour  for  the  Lord  increases,  the more do  our  disgusts  diminish;  the  more  our  zeal  inflames,  the more do  our  repugnances  weaken;  the  more  we  serve  him  with fidelity, the  more  charms  and  consolations  do  we  find  in  his  service. It is  by  relaxing,  that  we  render  our  duties  disagreeable; it is  by  lessening  our  fervour,  that  we  add  a  new  weight  to  our yoke; and  if,  in  spite  of  our  fidelity,  the  disgusts  continue,  they are then  trials,  and  not  punishments:  it  is  not  that  consolations are refused,  it  is  a  new  occasion  of  merit  which  is  prepared  for  us: it is  not  an  irritated  God,  who  shuts  his  heart  to  us,  it  is  a  merciful God, who  purifies  our  own;  it  is  not  a  discontented  master,  who suspends his  favours,  it  is  a  jealous  Lord,  who  wishes  to  prove our love:  our  homages  are  not  rejected,  our  submissions  and services are  only  anticipated;  it  is  not  meant  to  repulse,  but  to assure  to  us  the  price  of  our  sufferings,  by  rejecting  every  thing which might  still  mingle  the  man  with  God,  ourselves  with  grace, human supports  with  the  gifts  of  heaven,  and  the  riches  of  faith with the  consolations  of  self-love. Behold, my  brethren,  the last truth  with  which  I  shall  terminate  this  discourse: — Not  only the disgusts  accompanying  virtue,  are  not  so  bitter  as  those  of  the world, but  they  likewise  possess  resources  which  those  of  the world have  not.