Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/99

 not long  alarm  us;    and  to  the  misery  of  a  departure  from  virtue, you will  add  the  misery  of  ignorance  and  security.

Such is  the  inevitable  lot  of  a  lukewarm  and  unfaithful  life:  passions which  we  have  too  much  indulged. " Young  lions,"  says  a prophet,  which  "  have  been  nourished  without  precaution,  at length  grow  up,  and  devour  the  careless  hand  which  has  even  assisted to  strengthen  and  render  them  formidable." The passions, arrived to  a  certain  point,  gain  a  complete  ascendancy:  in  vain  you then try  to  regain  yourself. The time  is  past;  you  have  fostered the profane  fire  in  your  heart,  it  must  at  last  break  out;  you  have nourished the  venom  within  you,  it  must  now  spread  and  gain upon you,  and  the  time  is  past  for  any  application  to  medicine; you should  have  taken  it  in  time. At the  commencement  the  disease was  not  irremediable;  you  have  allowed  it  to  strengthen,  you have irritated  it  by  every  thing  which  could  inflame  and  render  it incurable;  it  must  now  be  conqueror,  and  you  the  victim  of  your own indiscretion  and  indulgence.

Do you  not  likewise  say,  my  brethren,  that  you  have  the  best intentions in  the  world;  that  you  wish  you  could  act  much  better than you  do;  and  though  you  have  the  sincerest  desires  for  salvation, yet  a  thousand  conjunctures  happen  in  life,  where  we  forget  all our good  intentions,  and  must  be  saints  to  resist  their  impressions? This is  exactly  what  we  tell  you;  that  in  spite  of  all  your  pretended good  intentions,  if  you  do  not  fly,  struggle,  watch,  pray,  and continually take  the  command  over  yourself,  a  thousand  occasions will occur  where  you  will  no  longer  be  master  of  your  own  weakness. This is  what  we  tell  you,  that  nothing  but  a  mortified  and watchful life  can  place  us  beyond  the  reach  of  temptation  and  danger;  that  it  is  ridiculous  to  suppose  we  shall  continue  faithful  in those  moments  when  violently  attacked,  when  we  bear  a  heart weakened, wavering,  and  already  on  the  verge  of  falling;  that  none but the  house  built  upon  a  rock  can  resist  the  winds  and  the  tempest;  and,  in  a  word,  that  we  must  be  holy,  and  firmly  established in virtue,  to  live  free  from  guilt.

And when  I  say  that  we  must  be  holy, — alas! my brethren,  the most faithful  and  fervent  Christians,  with  every  inclination  mortified as  far  as  the  frailty  of  our  nature  will  permit;  imaginations purified by  prayer,  and  minds  nourished  in  virtue  and  meditation on the  law  of  God,  frequently  find  themselves  in  such  terrible situations that  their  hearts  sink  within  them;  their  imaginations become troubled  and  deranged;  they  see  themselves  in  those  melancholy agitations  where  they  float  for  a  long  time  between  victory and death;  and  like  a  vessel  struggling  against  the  waves,  in  the midst of  an  enraged  ocean,  they  can  only  look  for  safety  from  the Almighty commander  of  winds  and  tempests. And you,  with  a heart  already  half  seduced,  with  inclinations  at  least  bordering  upon guilt, would  wish  your  weakness  to  be  proof  against  all  attacks, and the  most  powerful  temptations  to  find  you  always  tranquil  and inaccessible? You would  wish,  with  your  lukewarm,  sensual,  and worldly morals,  that  on  these  occasions  your  soul  should  be  gifted