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THINK WELh ON'T : 
 
 OB, 
 
 BEFLECTIONS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 GREAT TRUTHS * 
 
 •OF THB 
 
 CHRISTIAN RELIGION, 
 
 FOB 
 
 JEVERY DAY OF THE MKHE. 
 
 BYR. CHALLONER, DD. 
 
 cftSi,^®'''-^''""" "?" *^® Jan J made desolate- b«. 
 cause there is none that considereth in W?heart 
 
 Jeremias xii. 11 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 D. & J. SADLIER & CO. 164 WILLIAM ST. 
 
 BOSTON: 128 FEDERAL-STBEBT. 
 
 MONTREAL, C. E. : 
 
 COtt KOTRK-DAMi: AND 8T. KRAJfCIS XATaK-nU. 
 1864. 
 
i 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I. Make choice of a proper time and place 
 for ecollecion; and ehut .he door of .h, 
 
 II. Place thyself in the presence of Godj 
 represenung his incomprehensible Majesty J 
 hyself by a lively faith, as filling L ve 
 
 bufes!" /he"?' '"'""^ ""'" "" "- -A 
 Dates in the very centre of thy soul Pm J 
 
 trate thyself in spirit before li^io !Z 
 .h.s sovereign Lord, make an en.i;e offeSg 
 of thyself ,0 him, humbly begging his naf 
 don for a„ thy past treason's agffnst'ht. ' "" 
 
 vou and™h '■'r " "«•" ""<• «"«=« *'«•> for- 
 the gospel may maite so deep an impression 
 on thy soul, that thou mayest efflctZl^ 
 lean, to love and fear him. "««B""y 
 
 IV. Head the chapter for the day leisurely 
 
 •oul time to digest what thou ,rt t^g, 
 
4 
 
 INTEODUCTION. 
 
 to Arn^ r, , prayer, endeavour 
 
 to draw from ,hy considerations auch affec- 
 Uons as are suitable to the subject, by oxci 
 
 «I ituda f r . " '" ^'^ goodness- 
 gratuude for h.s benefits-a horror of sin 
 
 and smcere repentance for thy past sins Z' 
 
 .hen open thy heart as much a's po^^ L^: 
 
 tarv^:;""' """ '" ">-« Srel and n ! 
 .hyZ'"" '"'' '""^ •'•^ "^-P- -ot in 
 
 VI. Conclude with ri.<.nl»;„» 
 ment of l,f^ • • "^"""ig on amend- 
 
 ment of hfe, insisting in particular on those 
 fatUngs to which thou art most subject a,!! 
 finn y determining within thyself to pu; !hf 
 reaoluttonsthou hast made in'executVn;: 
 
 viirT: ? ""^ °"" '"»' -^y <Jay 
 
 ,k. ;■ ffoquently in the course of 
 
 ^e day on the chief points of .ho subject 
 of hy constderation, lest the enemy rob tly 
 
 Md conBa^rin;"" '"" ""' ""» ""«»« 
 
 I 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Days. 
 
 « On the necessity of consideration, . . 7 
 
 2 On the end of our creation, . . ,1 
 
 3 On the benefits of God, J! 
 
 4 On tlto dignity and obligation" of a" 
 
 Christian, . 
 
 6 On T T""-^ "^ '^''^'°'^^' '•"•*•' 2 
 
 8 On the sentiments we shall "have at" ^^ 
 the hour of death, . ^ 
 
 " \^^ P"'i<">l" judgment after' 
 10 On the great accounting diy,' '. '. '.Z 
 
 U On the last sentence of the good and 
 bad, , , 
 
 13 On hell. ..'.'.'.' ^ 
 
 14 On the exterior pain8,of hell/ ! ! ' 7c 
 J^ un the interior pains of hell, . . ' i^ 
 
 16 On a miserable eternity, . 'Z 
 
 17 On heaven, ^^ 
 
 • ... 93 
 
Days. 
 
 18 On the small 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Pag< 
 
 100 
 107 
 112 
 
 "- mortal ^in:""""*'"^ •"-'- 
 
 SO On the relapsing 3i„„e;.; [ [ 
 
 ^ On domg penance for our Bins, ,,„ 
 
 22 Against delay of renpn..„ ' " ''® 
 
 «3 On .in,e and'et rZ "' ' * " "' 
 
 24 On .he presence o "Sod *'' 
 
 ^ On .he passion of cS, and firs." ''' 
 
 tZr^- '- - ---Of- 
 ^5 On^„„ «.,;„„;„-_; .^^^^..4. 
 
 "";Sd''^--^---"r-«"" 
 28 0urSavi„„ris.cou;geda"..-hepi,iar:"' 
 
 ^ ouTLrrca::;:; 1-°™- • • • '^ 
 
 nailed to it ""'' ^"-^ '» 
 
 30 Our Saviour o;.;e;r„;s; .' [ ' ' |^f 
 
 3'On.hedeatl.ofourSavi;ur. •.• ^ 
 
 Rules of a Christian life. " ?? 
 
 Acts of faith, hope, and chari.;,: i^I 
 
 >n«A 
 
 ■' 
 
Pag«. 
 t. . 100 
 . . 107 
 . . 112 
 • . 118 
 . . 126 
 . . 131 
 . 136 
 rst, 
 of 
 
 . 142 
 
 ai> 
 
 . 148 
 
 ite 
 
 . 155 
 r, 
 
 . 162 
 is 
 
 . 168 
 . 174 
 . 180 
 . 187 
 . 191 
 
 THINK WELL ON'T. 
 
 FIRST DAY. 
 
 ON THE NECESSITY OF CONSIDERATIOI.. 
 
 Consider, ^rst, those words of th. 
 
 of all our evils A n, • th» °'"^'^«°"''ce 
 of.an.i„dseldo.r„;tSC'.^^^^^^^ 
 
 arej.stalx>uttostep.^!S^°J,''l^',h«7 
 
 It they were only made for this !fc 
 or were always to dwell here i£ 
 
Ill 
 
 fif 
 
 If 
 
 u 
 
 ° ON THE NECESSITY 
 
 thoughts of Death, Judgment, Heaven 
 and Hell, mke but little or nolmpT^' 
 « on upon them, because the? Z no 
 aUow them to sink deep into th^eirsouk 
 
 They ru?r "'^■r'T ^""^''^^ratiol: 
 1 noy run on, w,th their eyes shut, to 
 
 and tKS SZ t™trf f ^^"''^ 
 finH fk / ^*" ^^ ^"^"^> when thcv 
 
 fht-KTh7Se!^"'""'=^''^"'"'«' 
 Consider, seconrf/^, that wo cannn» 
 
 »n^ him above all things. Now wr 
 can neither know, nor Zof. him ^s we 
 
 «o«. It ,s this which discovers to us 
 B.ZT f '•'^«'ion« of this sovereign 
 
 wve, and ail the benefits which he has 
 bestowed upon us his most undeservW 
 and ungrateful creatures. All which 
 alas! make no impression on us w Z 
 -ui serious consideration. Every ihiZ 
 about us, the heavens, the earth, and all 
 
 I 
 
OF CONSIDERATION. 
 
 9 
 
 HEAVEN; 
 
 impres- 
 y do not 
 leir souls 
 deration, 
 shut, to 
 eternity, 
 lien they 
 place of 
 n^er die, 
 uenched. 
 AjI that 
 
 cannot 
 and lov- 
 row we 
 •j as we 
 isidera- 
 s to us 
 vercign 
 eternal 
 he has 
 erving 
 which, 
 
 ! tvifli- 
 
 ' thing 
 ind all 
 
 creatures therein, cease not to preach 
 God unto us, and invite us to love him: 
 but without consideration wo remain 
 deaf to the voice of the whole creation; 
 we are like those that have eyes, and 
 see not; ears, and hear not. Ah! the 
 great and dreadful mischiefs that flow 
 from the want of that true knowledge 
 of God, which is the fruit of daily con- 
 sideration! Is it not upon this account 
 that the whole world is over-run with 
 wickedness; and that hell opens wide 
 its tremendous jaws, devouring without 
 end or number the unhappy children 
 of Adam, because God is forgotten, be- 
 cause there is no knowledge of God ujh 
 on earth? Osee iv. 1. 
 
 Consider, thirdly, that in order to 
 save our souls we must be sensible of 
 our own misery and corruption, that 
 we may become humble and diffident in 
 ourselves: we must know our irregular 
 inclinations and passions, that we may 
 fight against them, and overcom.e them: 
 — we must study and watch over the 
 motions of our own hearts, that we may 
 not be surprised by sin, and sleep in 
 
ON, THE NECESSITY 
 
 and vef n^^ "^ "^ know all fu- 
 
 f ■•««' me the g/:;etT'" "'^' "S' 
 grant me grace ",„ t '^""^ ^^^^, Lord • 
 'e' us labour to '° ^"°^ '":>'self:»Z," 
 
 fifej^afton. ''y frequent const- 
 
 ^ay of v.-.f ^^ ourselves nt • ."® 
 
 ~to* Of .„■"„:■„ t,""'--«» £ 
 
 ^on the vanifxr • '^^ ^^^ ParticnJn. 
 
 ^ ♦ 
 
^^ necessary 
 ' science of 
 '\^t the help 
 !• how un- 
 
 ,^" things, 
 jiemselves! 
 
 ^; "Lord! 
 ^^e, Lordf 
 seif:" and 
 two most 
 
 ^t COW52- 
 
 oi'der to 
 ^rne fear 
 
 o^ true 
 
 in the 
 -n'ously 
 ind the 
 ■ dread- 
 ?n the 
 icular: 
 Jeitful- 
 !'t and 
 
 awfuj 
 nthe 
 
 OF CONSIDERATION. 
 
 11 
 
 »■«• 
 
 certainty and uncertainty of death: 
 
 on the sentiments we should have when 
 we come to die; and on the small num- 
 ber of the elect, &c. Ah! Christians, 
 let us not neglect this great means 
 of salvation ! It was the consideration 
 I of these truths that made so many 
 I samts;— that has so often reclaimed 
 even the most abandoned sinners. Oh. 
 what a pj-ofound lethargy must not 
 that soul be immersed in, which is 
 not roused at the thunder of those 
 dreadful truths. Death,— Judgment,— 
 Hell, — Eternity. 
 
 Consider, Jifthly, the bitter but fruit- 
 less repentance of the damned, con- 
 demnmg their past folly for having 
 thought so little on ^hose things on 
 which they shall now think for an end- 
 less eternity. « Senseless wretches as 
 we were! we once had time, when, by 
 thinking upon this miserable eternity, 
 we might have escaped it. Those end- 
 less joys of heaven were offered to us 
 at a cheap rate, when a little reflection 
 might have put us in the way of secur- 
 ing to ourselves the everlasting posses- 
 
12 
 
 ^^ THE END 
 
 sion of them R.,* 
 
 «''«".• and n:;.,a^r^)^°"W not think 
 
 "y soul ! learn to ll' • °° '««e.'' c 
 
 ""ngs that apnertafn !^ t^^' «« the 
 
 tote on the great tr.uh^ ^1?' ^"'''- medi- 
 «"• thou musTeither^L \°^"'*^ «°«PeJ: 
 or hereafter, when^. ".^ °^them now 
 
 r"I only servl to ai. '^'°"^^' "^ 'hem 
 '^f all eternity, ^^^ravate thy mf^ery 
 
 SECOND DAY. 
 
 Consider, /fy,, o ru ■ ■ 
 «o many yeC;^„^J"«''a„ soul! that 
 come into the worW in^. J*''"' "ot yet 
 ,^a^ a mere noTh inrVh"' "^^ ^"S 
 lasted near six thotanH "^"'^^ ^^^ 
 mnumerable transaction, ^'."'■'' ^'th 
 tions ,n every na7on /"^ '^^o'"- 
 
 hou ail thJZZ7~A^'i,^here.yast 
 
5uid not think 
 too Jate." c 
 by their mis- 
 y ^ay, on the 
 
 ^'^y eternal 
 '^end;n)edi- 
 
 the Gospel : 
 'f them now 
 
 ^^^ or them 
 thy misery 
 
 OF 0T7R CREATION. 
 
 13 
 
 ATION. 
 
 soul ! that 
 5t not yet 
 ^^y being 
 ^'orld has 
 ^i's, with 
 ' re vol u- 
 lere wast 
 lou wast 
 
 ' of the 
 ^st thou 
 
 m such a state ? Learn then to hum- 
 
 Me thyself, whatever advantages thou 
 
 nayest enjoy of nature or grace, since 
 
 )t thyself thou art nothing; and, all 
 
 (hat thou hast above nothing, has been 
 
 ?iven or lent thee by thy Maker. Ah! 
 
 DOor wretch, what hast thou then to 
 
 )e proud of? or what canst thou call 
 
 Viy own, but nothing, and sin, which is 
 
 hvorse than nothing? 
 
 Consider, secowt^/y, that the almighty 
 land of God, descending into the deep 
 ibyss of nothing, has drawn thee forth 
 trom thence, and given thee the being 
 thou now enjoyest, the most accom- 
 plished and perfect of any in this visi- 
 ble world; capable of knowing and lov- 
 ing God in this life, and designed for 
 the enjoyment of everlasting happiness 
 with hmi in the next. Admire and 
 adore the bounty of thy God, who, 
 Irom all eternity, has designed this be- 
 mg for thee, preferable to so many 
 millions of others which he Las left b« 
 
 ^g 
 
 hind, that had £is fai#a title to a bei- 
 as thou hadst. Look forward into thai 
 immense eternity for which thou hast 
 
14 
 
 «N THE END 
 
 has neither bSina '' '^^'^ «heo 
 -aches ft.o„, Sky^fo eTrnit^ '"' 
 
 £- or ilSf '"^^- 1 ^^^ • 
 
 «nd art owld to ^ "^'" '° ^'•"' 
 service all f y pow. ° T'l" »° his 
 fenses; and arf /uiUv 'f """"'"'' «°d 
 '"justice, aa ofteft'^tho^\T' '^7'"^ 
 pan of thy beina h„ ahusest any 
 
 the pursuit^of vanl'tvLw"'^'"^'"^ '' '» 
 poor soul, hoJuZ Z '"• ^^- "^ 
 thought of th^» h!. ^^'"' r ''"herto 
 
 o- 'houghtsXrds't,Sri°^ 
 i*eferred to him v^u^- ®' ^^^ been 
 
 "■> and there"o7e'r hTt'ot',.'"^'"- 
 ^nd of all our action"? r« 'r^ '^' 
 :^;;^so great an Ee^f^-tS 
 
 «-7h'eT thf s^^r .««^ -ho 
 
 «fralonrZtTr.^.*'?-/orhim: 
 
 J^ot that he stood 
 
 m need 
 
«D 
 
 J^^ully acknow- 
 ^od bears thee 
 
 nor end, but 
 
 eternity. 
 
 ^Jng created 
 aving received 
 ^j thou hy the 
 "gest to him, 
 ecrate to his 
 lacullies, and 
 1 most crying 
 
 abusest any 
 ploying it in 
 
 ^n- Ah!mv 
 ^e hitherto 
 ^^I a part of 
 "^s, has been 
 first begin- 
 ^ be the last 
 e confound- 
 •^epent and 
 
 GocI who 
 
 ho createil 
 
 world f«« 
 
 ' ^or him- 
 ^ in need 
 
 OF OUR CREATION. I5 
 
 of thee, or can receive from thee anv 
 increase or addition to hi^ K. • ^ 
 but that he might dve thl v^^^''"''' 
 in this life, and'l^ nkss iovs^^^^^^^^ 
 kingdom in the ne^t %7 i^ ^^ ^^^ 
 
 Die an end! and since thou wert r^^L 
 
 wuh any thing less than God fear„ 
 then to contemn all that is p^hki ? 
 temporal, as things Eeath thJI^ ""^ 
 unworthy of thy affection r ' ^."'^ 
 
 past foll^ and l^Xe gi^s^pS 
 of mankind, who spend their dayrYn 
 vain amusements and restlp« /= 
 
 about painted toys and'meftrTfle?.' 
 e^d fo °UTT ^'"''•"g ^f that gSt 
 this'woria '"^ '^°"' ^''^J^ '^^'"^ '«to 
 
 wHI !^?h5""'"^' "'^ "'y soul, viz. th^ 
 
 .W '^^d In "Jf'»°'-y.-thy understand^ 
 •lb, and all the senses and r..-.«» „f .i,.. 
 
 ^y.were given thee by thy "Crrato/ 
 "ly creation, to be employed during 
 
h 
 
 16 
 
 ON THE BENEFITS OF GOD. 
 
 I 
 
 thy short abode in this k*ansitory life, 
 in the service of thy God, and to con- 
 duct thee to the eternal enjoyment of 
 him in the sweet repose of his blessed 
 kingdom. Alas! my soul, have we not 
 perverted all these gifts of our Maker, 
 by turning them all against the Giver. 
 Have mercy upon us, O Lord! have 
 mercy upon usj pardon our past trea- 
 sons, and give us grace to begin now 
 • to be wise for eternity. 
 
 THIRD DAY. 
 
 ON THE BENEFITS OF GOD. 
 
 Consider, ^/irst, my soul ! how many 
 and great are thy obligations to the 
 bounty of thy God. He has thought 
 of thee from all eternity; he has loved 
 thee from all eternity: all the blessings 
 and favours, which he has bestowed 
 upon thee in time, he designed for thee 
 from all eternity: they are all the con- 
 sequences of his eternal love for thee. 
 Is it possible that so great a God, the 
 Most High and Most Holy, who dwells 
 
 I 
 
OK THE BENEFITS OF GOD. 17 
 
 in eternity, should set his affections 
 
 eTthrts ^P°°^?■"'•"' worm of Z 
 earmr Is it possib e, mv snnH t^o* 
 
 thou sI,ouldst have h;da% ace" £ 
 all eternity in the heart of thy gT 
 and that th.s eternal n,i„d shouW nevtr' 
 
 .'^^"on^IeT^"hr"' '^'•''-' '•>'"" 
 return hL,f.h i'T '"■°"='^' ^hat 
 
 love? Hn I ?" u"^^ ^"^ 'his ancient 
 love f How late hast thou loved him 
 
 HOW ittle hast thou thought of him 
 
 who always thinks on thecr '""' 
 
 Consider, secondlj,, that thy God has 
 
 ^™ ?i°„!fy rS'-l "olhiDB. »bic5 
 ..:.-'„ "'.™'".°'y »•>• taen tty ra_ if 
 
 £ «od had but for u„« moment v 
 <l«awn his supporting hand. Poor 
 
 one moment with- 
 siu- 
 
18 
 
 ON THE BENEFITS OF GOD. 
 
 ner! why didst thou not think of this, 
 when by thy repeated crimes thou wast 
 waging war against thy God; and he, 
 with incomparable love, was night and 
 day watching over thee? How didst 
 thou dare presume so often and for so 
 long a time to provoke him, who held 
 the thread of thy life in his hand, and 
 who every moment could have crushed 
 thee into nothing, or cast thee head- 
 long into hell! O! blessed for ever by 
 all creatures be his mercy, for having 
 borne with thee so long. 
 
 Consider, thirdly^ the inestimable ben- 
 efit of our redemption, by which our 
 loving God has rescued us from sin, 
 and from hell, the just, reward of sin. 
 Alas! my poor soul, we must have been 
 lost for ever, had not this sovereign 
 Lord and Maker of heaven and e^rth 
 loved us to that degree as to deliver 
 himself up to the most cruel and igno- 
 minious death of the cross for our re- 
 demption. Greater love than this no 
 
 - - - ' • 74A 
 
 iiiau nut 
 
 /I, lllUb UllO lUl/ 
 
 
 for his friend, St. John xv. 13. But, 
 O dear Lord! thou hast carried thy 
 
ON THE BENEFITS OF OOD. JQ 
 
 love much farther, in dying for those 
 who by sin were thy decla.?.,! „L • ' 
 in dying for such /ngTalelf ,~««; 
 as would scarce evef S Th^f for' 
 
 Krita^.f 'i^^-' ^--K' 
 
 Whom the^ll\t -Tl^tti 
 ^mg, or rather less than nothrg) eT 
 
 fs:rwe^r/:rZte^:^E\ 
 
 «e notice of such immense love, which 
 
 thft t 
 
 dition, void as they are of .„« . 
 
 ««uge of Jesus Christ, or of his onh. 
 
 hK *^r '■"'' ^^'holic church ! Ho^ 
 I'ttle do they think of God, or of Z 
 

 20 
 
 ON THE BENEFITS OF GOD. 
 
 life to come! With how little appre- 
 hension or remorse do they run on from 
 sin to sin, and die impenitent! Ah! the 
 goodness of God, that has not suffered 
 us to fall into such misery, though born 
 and bred up amidst a people seduced by 
 error! or, if we have also had the mis- 
 fortune, like our neighbours, to have 
 gone astray from the womb, has by a 
 more distinguishing mercy drawn us 
 out of the dragon's jaws, and brought 
 us to his fold, the Catholic Church! 
 Blessed be our God for ever for all his 
 mercies. O! what^n inestimable hap- 
 piness it is to have, by the means of 
 this grace of vocation, God himself for 
 our Father, and his holy Church for 
 our Mother! To pass this transitory 
 life in the happy society of the only 
 Spouse of God's only Son! to be daily 
 partakers of the sacraments, those heav- 
 enly conduits of divine grace! to live 
 and die in the communion of the saints, 
 &c. Ah! Blessed are the people who 
 have the Lord /or their God. Ps. cxlin. 
 CoNsiDER,^///i?y, Christian soul ! who- 
 ever thou art, the particular providence 
 
ON THE DIGNliTY ETC. 21 
 
 of God towards thee ! With how man v 
 
 graces has he prevented thee fi^ "^^ 
 
 ender years: from how many mTsfor 
 
 tunes has he preserved thee/ K he 
 
 not borne with thee for a lomT^e 
 
 Mns/ Are there not millions now an 
 
 tually burning in hell for lesser s.nt 
 
 han thou hast committed? Reflect on 
 
 he advantages thou hast received atve 
 
 ihTf"'-7^^' conveniences of S 
 what fnends, what health, &c. while 
 
 ZT^l"""/^ worthy than hyselfZve 
 been abandoned to want and misery 
 
 01 thy God to thee: be astonished and 
 confounded at thy past ingratitude: re- 
 solve from henceforth never to ceie 
 
 FOURTH DAY, 
 
 On the dignity and, obligation op 
 a christian. 
 
 by na"^^'"^"' /r*'' *''^' «^«'y Christian 
 t>/ nature, and inasmuch as he is a man. 
 
ii 
 
 22 
 
 ON THE DIGNITY Ax^D 
 
 I 
 
 is the most perfect of all visible crea- 
 tures; endowed with understanding and 
 reason; composed of a body whose struc- 
 ture is admirable, and of a spiritual 
 and immortal soul, created to the image 
 and likeness of God, and capable of the 
 eternal enjoyment of him ; enriched with 
 a free will, and advanced by his Crea- 
 tor to the dignity of lord and master of 
 all other creatures; though not design- 
 ed to meet with his happiness in any 
 of them, but in the Creator alone. Ahl 
 my soul, hast thou hitherto been sensi- 
 ble of the dignity of thy nature? Hast 
 thou not too often, like brute beasts, 
 looked no farther than this earth, viz. 
 present, material, and sensible things? 
 Hast thou not too often made thyself a 
 slave to creatures, which were only 
 made to serve thee? 
 
 Consider, secondly, that every Chris- 
 tian, by grace, and inasmuch as he is a 
 Christian, has been by the sacranient 
 of baptism advanced to the participa- 
 !i3 divine nature, made the 
 ,,M c^ God,— heir of God, 
 
 tion 
 adopted 
 
 and co-heir rul 
 
 ii Chri?t. He has been 
 
 i 
 
*%* 
 
 le crea- 
 ing and 
 e struc- 
 piritual 
 B image 
 3 of the 
 icd with 
 is Crea- 
 ister of 
 design- 
 in any 
 e. Ah I 
 in sensi- 
 ? Hast 
 beasts, 
 rth, viz. 
 things? 
 hyself a 
 re only 
 
 y Chris- 
 s he is a 
 crament 
 articipa- 
 lade the 
 of God, 
 las been 
 
 I . OBLIGATIONS OF A CHUISTIAN. 23 
 
 made the temple of the Most IIiVh,con- 
 
 01 Christ, mJ the unction of his -race- 
 and receP.ed at the same time mTn 
 questionable right and title to an ever-' 
 asting kingdom. O Christian sou P 
 hast thou ever yet entertained a se- 
 nous thought of the greatness of the 
 
 . f'gj^'ty to whiQh thou hast been lied 
 at baptism? How has thv life corS 
 nonded with this dignity? 0» chTld 
 of heaven, ho:v Ion| wilt thou Z. 
 slave to the earth? ^"^ ^ 
 
 the obligations that attend this dignitv 
 greater than the generality of cS 
 tians imagine. These obligations are 
 briefly comprised in our baptismal en 
 gagements. The first condition upon 
 
 -y by oaptism, was that o£ faith tZ 
 minister of Christ examined us'at tL 
 font upon every article of our hJlf, 
 ana 10 each interrogation we answered' 
 
 mothers, Crcdo,^I do believe. What 
 
■"C'^^flkit-m-mimmmm 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 if) 
 
 24 
 
 ON THE DIGNITY AND 
 
 has thy faith been, O my soul? Has it 
 been conformable to this thy profession? 
 Has it been Jirm without wavering? Has 
 it been generous, so as not to be ashamed 
 of the doctrine of thy heavenly Master, 
 or the maxims of his gospel? Has it 
 shown itself in thy actions? or hast thou 
 not been of the number of those whose 
 life gives the lie to their faith? Of 
 whom the apostle complains, Tit. i. 16. 
 Who make profession of knowing God, 
 but deny him by their works. 
 
 Consider, fourthly, that at our bap- 
 tism we made a solemn renunciation of 
 the devil, and all his works, auii^all his 
 pomps. Have we ever seriously re- 
 flected upon this renunciation? or do 
 we rightly understand the obligations 
 of it? And yet our title to the inheri- 
 tance of our heavenly Father is for- 
 feited the moment we are false to this 
 sacred engagement. Ah! my soul, if 
 thou hast renounced Satan, take care 
 that in the practice of thy life thou 
 keep lar irom mm: iuku oaic tuuw ^--w 
 no longer his slave by sin. Fly from 
 all his works, the works of darkness 
 
? Hash 
 
 rofession? 
 ing? Has 
 ! ashamed 
 y Master, 
 ? Has it 
 hast thou 
 Dse whose 
 iith? Of 
 Tit. i. 16. 
 wing God, 
 
 our bap- 
 ciation of 
 ni^i^all his 
 iously re- 
 )n? or do 
 )bligations 
 ;he inheri- 
 ler is for- 
 ilse to this 
 y soul, if 
 take care 
 life thou 
 
 OBLIGATIONS OF A CHRISTIAN. 25 
 
 let him henceforth find nothing in theo 
 that .he may claim for his own! and bv 
 means of which he may also kv claim 
 to thee. Despise his vain S. the 
 false appearance of worldly gSeur 
 the prodigality, vanity, and sinful amuse' 
 ments by which he allures poor word 
 mgs into his net: and if a? any time 
 hou art invited to take part in tE 
 fooleries, repeat to thysel/^those wS'ds 
 
 CoNsimRffait,, that at baptism each ' 
 
 o thrSnl? '°;^ n-^ient'cerlonj 
 with a wh t. ^^'""'^' ^^« ^lo'hed 
 ilter of Ph • . garment, which the min 
 
 Zl?Zrt-f''f ^'"■'""''^' ""^^'^^ thou 
 
 -Uls that compiy^r thi? tt" 
 What a comfort will it be to themTn 
 We, what a joy and satisfaction in d™.L" 
 
 iv^ ijuve Rent thic ■^r.u^ ^r • ^"^ 
 
 innocence un- 
 innocence. 
 
 ♦ .TV 1 
 
 I" iiiX, 
 
 defiled 
 
 where <5h«n « ^ "^P"smai innocence, 
 wnere shall we find thee in this unhap- 
 
r^ 
 
 26 
 
 ON THE VANITY 
 
 mi 
 
 !'■=: 
 
 J 
 
 ! 
 
 py age? O! blindness and stupidity 
 of the children of Adam, that part so 
 easily with so inestixnable a treasure. 
 Alas! my poor soul, has it not been thy 
 misfortune? 01 make haste then to 
 wash away, with penitential tears, those 
 dreadful stains of sin, which must other- 
 wise become the eternal fuel of hell's 
 merciless flames. 
 
 FIFTH DAY. 
 
 ON THE VANITY OF THE WORLD. 
 
 Consider, first, those words of the 
 wisest of men, Eccles. i. Vanity of van- 
 ities, and all is vanity: and reflect how 
 truly vain are all those things which 
 deluded worldlings pursue with so much 
 eagerness. Honours, riches, and world- 
 ly pleasures, are all but painted bub- 
 bles, which look at a distance as if they 
 were something, but have nothing of 
 real substance in them; and, instead of 
 a solid content and joy, bring nothing 
 with them but a trifling momentary 
 satisfaction, followed by cares, uneasi- 
 
OF THE WORLD. 
 
 27 
 
 I stupidity 
 lat part so 
 1 treasure. 
 )t been thy 
 :e then to 
 ;ears, those 
 iQust other- 
 3l of hell's 
 
 WORLD. 
 
 rds of the 
 nity of van- 
 reflect how 
 ings which 
 ith so much 
 , and world- 
 ainted bub- 
 e as if they 
 nothing .of 
 , instead of 
 ng nothing 
 momentary 
 res, uneasi- 
 
 ness, apprehensions, and remorse. Ah 
 
 i ^"^^^^^ ^"^^. at which their admirers 
 
 i^ no sooner offer to grasp, but they d is- 
 
 jsolve into air, and leave their hands 
 
 |empty! O ! how justly were all S 
 
 My enjoyments compared by the royal 
 
 Prophet to a di^^am? Dormierunt som 
 
 Pmsmm et nihil invenerunt omnes 
 
 XXV. I hey have slept out their short 
 Meep, and when they awoke they found 
 bothmg m their hands of all those things, 
 
 ossess. O! ye sons of men, how lon^ 
 
 CirT I'n 1^"' ^'^'^^^ ^^^^'^^' ««^ run 
 ^Jter lies? Psalm iv. 
 
 Consider, secondly, that saying of St. 
 "f "^^^"'^onfes. L. i. c. 1. \hou to 
 ^ade us, O Lord! for thyself: and our 
 
 nd reflect, that our great Creator has 
 Siven us a noble soul, made to his own 
 
 &/ and like him spiritual and im- 
 "wnal; which therefore n,^n n. 
 iiness * 
 
 happ 
 
 
 earthly and fading 
 
 hings. No, my soul! thou hast a, 
 lerstanding and a will capable of 
 
 an un- 
 con- 
 
28 
 
 ON THE VANITY 
 
 !'' ' 
 
 templating the sovereign beauty and 
 sovereign truth, and of enjoying the 
 one supreme infinite Good; and what- 
 ever is less than he, is not worthy of 
 thee. Ah! resolve then no longer to 
 fatigue thyself, and waste away thy 
 spirits in running like a* child after but- 
 terflies : but since thou canst not be 
 without seeking for happiness, seek it, 
 in the name of God, where it is to be 
 found, viz. in the way of virtue and de- 
 votion, and not in the by-paths which 
 lead to endless misery. 
 
 Consider, thirdly, the shortness of 
 all worldly enjoyments. The days of 
 man are very short: the longest life is 
 less than a moment, when compared 
 with eternity. A tJiousand years, in 
 the sight of God, the very truth, are but 
 as yesterday that is past and gone, Ps. 
 Ixxxix. Alas ! does not daily experience 
 convince us, that we are here to-day, 
 and gone to-morrow, and no sooner out 
 of sight, but also out of mind ? For as 
 
 soon as IVA nro in iVta n-fn'^m 4-U^r.^ *U.»* 
 
 we leave behind think no more of us: 
 All Jlesh is grass, says the prophet 
 
 Iw 
 
 fa 
 
 >ii 
 
 [V. 
 
 ^s 
 m 
 ror 
 
 y 
 
 fin 
 
 pi 
 (fi 
 nei 
 ^e : 
 C 
 loin 
 
 lOSi 
 
 leg, 
 
 fur 
 ley 
 
 parci 
 
 TAm . 
 
1 beauty and 
 enjoying the 
 )d,- and what- 
 lot worthy of 
 no longer to 
 ite away thy 
 hild after but- 
 canst not be 
 •iness, seek it, i 
 re it IS to be 
 virtue and de- 
 ^-paths which 
 
 shortness of 
 The days of 
 ongest life is 
 en compared 
 md years, in 
 truth, are but 
 and gone, Ps. 
 ly experience 
 here to-day, 
 no sooner out 
 Ind? For as 
 
 vc, tiiUJSC liiUi. 
 
 ) more of us: 
 the prophet Jfve 
 
 OF THE WORLD. 
 
 29 
 
 Iwhich flour Shi t -Sr "-^ ■'"'•^''''' 
 
 -» life compareVt J.' JZ ''"'/ '^ 
 v. to a vapour or a >h^. , ' ""^"P- 
 
 Mispersed%3.ri r;S"fS 
 im no more *5^^Pn? rr - ^iim, 
 
 Wared ^Y sZln^^-^l' JV' 
 
 :) to a shadow, or to tho fl°^' ''^P' 
 
 "d upon the wiZ t * ^'^^^ "^ « 
 
 ,™m the bow, whfc'h eak'"""^ '^"^ 
 
 )me of afl ;/ '■'^^^' ^''^' i« now be- 
 "iifaniy monarchs, eallant tr^nr. 
 
 Ue an'Sutd? %rS" r 1 
 i^'y are all Innr. • "^ ^^- ^^as 
 
 - -'s=ea: just so it will be wii^u' 
 years hence. ^Ih » wn^Mi" 
 " for one «t^oThieX' 
 
•smrT" 
 
 30 
 
 ON THE VANITY, ETC. 
 
 I 
 
 are gone before you; and who, from 
 their silent monunnenls,. where the re- 
 mainder of their dust lies mingled with 
 the common earth, call upon you in the 
 words of the wise man : Memento judicii 
 mei; sic enim erit et tuum: mihi heri, 
 tibi hodie, Eccl. xxxviii. "Remember 
 what we are come to; it will soon be 
 the same with you: it was our turn 
 yesterday, it will be yours to-day. We 
 once had our parts to act upon the stage 
 of the w#ld; we once were young, 
 strong, and healthy, as you now are,| 
 and thought as little as you of what we( 
 are now come to: like you, we set our| 
 hearts upon trifles and toys, which wej 
 could but enjoy for a moment; and for! 
 these we neglected eternity. Senselessj 
 wretches as we were, we chose to b6| 
 slaves to a cheating world, to incon-1 
 stant perishable creatures, which aban 
 doned us so soon, rather than serve tha 
 •Lord and Master to whom nothing dies| 
 and who neither in life nor death eves 
 
 •ft^vcolr^ci fVii^csQ xtrlirk ^reolro nnf n inn IB 
 
 O Christian! let us take this warning 
 let the miscarriages of so many othel 
 
 t 
 I 
 li 
 
 m 
 U 
 m 
 
 }US1 
 
> ETC. 
 
 md who, from 
 
 where the re- 
 s mingled with 
 pon you in the 
 VLemento judicii 
 um: mihi heri, 
 i. " Remember 
 it will soon be 
 
 was our turn 
 rs to-day. We 
 
 upon the stage 
 5 were young, 
 
 you now are,?; 
 fo\x of what we 
 ''ou, we set our 
 toys, which we 
 omcnt; and for 
 lity. Senseless 
 ve chose to be 
 or Id, to incon 
 es, which aban 
 than serve tha 
 m nothing dies| 
 nor death eve 
 
 -JtllS.'»wf i2-«' 
 
 e this warning 
 so many otheJ 
 
 W THE HAPPINESS, ETC. Sj 
 
 t teach us wisdom • let ,.„ . 
 i hearts on this misp!,n "°' ^^' O" 
 I look upon any thin^n . '^ ^°'^^' "or 
 ^hat i^ eternal. ^ ^ ""'^ S^eat, but 
 
 SIXTH DAY. 
 
 ON T:ie HAPPIWF.SO „„ 
 
 '■WNESS OP SERVING GOD 
 
 Consider, firof tu 
 ."•ophet Isa ah l^f T'^' °f the 
 i' i^ well, Isai ii^^^ "a ^^ >*^ «««, 
 
 hri well comprisff 2i^"''' *'"«• short 
 W, both for ^mc !'n?'',^"'"''^« t° 'he 
 »"•. riches, and Sea " ^'"""J^" H°n- 
 
 ;" -hich theXi7s74'iT '''^ "'-g^ 
 
 't'"«= but they are no^ '''^greatest 
 
 '^^l^ the world seeks th. ^ ^°""'' 
 ,' the service of S p""^' •>"« on'y 
 ["r upon earth h^ „ ' **" ^"^ hon- 
 
 Wp se^t^e ;St: «r ''^' 
 
 ^n of the great idZ \fl ' ^^ ^^opted 
 ''^eeternalFath^a^^J-aeild 
 
> 
 
 ?■ 
 
 32 
 
 ON THE HAPPINESS 
 
 eternal Son, a temple of the eternal 
 Spirit; heiress of the kingdom of heav- 
 en, and sister and companion to the 
 angels. O my soul! let such honours 
 as these be the only object of thy am- 
 bition. 
 
 Consider, secondly^ that the truest 
 riches are to be found in the service of 
 God; not indeed always those worldly 
 possessions, which are attended with so 
 many cares and fears, and daily ex- 
 posed to so many accidents, and which 
 are not capable of satisfying the heart; 
 but the inestimable treasure of the grace 
 of God, which is the seed of everlasting 
 glory; tbe gifts of the Holy Ghost; the 
 love of God; in a word, God himself, 
 whom the world cannot take from the 
 soul, unless she be so miserably blind 
 as to force him away by mortal sin. 
 Add to this, the fatherly providence of 
 God, whose eyes are continually fixed 
 upon the just, to watch over their wel- 
 fare: that his angels always encamp | 
 about them, to guard them 
 
 -i-i 
 
 oy liigi 
 xxxiii. 8. That as 
 he formerly said to Abraham, Gen. xv. 
 
 and by day, Ps. 
 
ss 
 
 > 
 
 the eternal 
 lorn of heav- 
 inion to the 
 uch honours 
 t of thy am- 
 
 t the truest 
 le service of 
 hose worldly 
 nded with so 
 [id daily ex- 
 ;s, and which 
 ig the heart J 
 3 of the grace 
 )f everlasting 
 y Ghost; the 
 God himself, 
 ake from the 
 serably blind 
 r mortal sin. 
 )rovidence of 
 tinually fixed 
 er their wel- 
 vays encamp 
 em by night 
 8. That as 
 am, Gen. xv.' 
 
 4 
 
 ■i 
 
 OF SERVING GOD. 33 
 
 He himself is their protector, and that 
 reward exceeding great, lie is the r 
 fnend the best of fdends; the l^^ 
 herd of their souls, who leads them o^ 
 his admirable pastures, to the foun- 
 tain of living witers. His tenderne^ 
 towards then, is beyond that of a lathe- 
 nay, beyond that of the tenderest motK 
 ?r,/*a xlu. 15,16. In a wordrOod 
 IS all things to those that fear him 0» 
 ray soul, seek no other treasure' than 
 him Fear nothing but the losing him. 
 If thou hast Inm, nothing can make thee 
 
 rkTtSir'^^'^^'--^'''^''^-" 
 
 Consider, thirdly, the pleasure that « 
 attends a virtuous life; the satisfaction 
 
 E' hv ,h'°^ •"'^ " S-^ conscience 
 Which by the wise man is compared to 
 
 of the Hot ri!"''"''! "'^ conLlatio^s 
 nLfM- ^.^'""u""'' ">^ comfortable ex- 
 pectation of a happy eternity after our 
 exit out of this vale of tears; a holy 
 confidence in the protection and provi^ 
 dence of God, and a perfect conformilv 
 i" an liungs to his blessed will. From 
 these fountains flow such delights, w 
 
34 
 
 ON THE HAPPINESS, ETC. 
 
 cannot be conceived by worldlings who 
 have no experience of them: pleasures 
 ,pure and spiritual, which sweeten all 
 the crosses of life, are an unspeakable 
 comfort in death, and carry with them 
 a certain Ibretaste of the immortal joys 
 of heaven. Whereas all worldly plea- 
 sures, like the world itself, are false 
 and delusive, always besprinkled with 
 bitterness, attended by uneasiness, fol- 
 lowed with remorse, and at last ter 
 minate in eternal sorrow. 
 
 Consider, fourtlily^ the saying of ou r 
 Saviour, one thing is necessary^ Luke x. 
 42. And what is that one thing, O my 
 soul! which alone can make thee hap- 
 py, both here and hereafter? It is to 
 serve thy God, and to provide in earn- 
 est for sr.3rnity. As time, compared to 
 eternuy i 3ss than nothing; so are all 
 temporal, ancerns, if compared with the 
 concerns ot' eternity/ This in reality 
 :is thy oAj jusiness: if thou art careful 
 ^of this, all IS well; but if thou neglect 
 it, all is lost, and lost for ever. As for 
 all other things of which thou mayest 
 >8tand in need in this life, give ear 
 
ON DEATH. 
 
 35 
 
 isiness, fol- 
 
 again to the same Saviour, Matt. vi. 33. 
 Seek first the kingdom of God and his 
 justice, and all these things shall be 
 given you over and above. Conclude * 
 then, my soul! since both thy temporal^Hi 
 and eternal welfare depend on serving^^ 
 God,' to make this for the future thy 
 only care. Thus only shalt thou meet 
 true comfort here; thus only shalt thou 
 come to never-ending happiness. 
 
 SEVENTH DAY. 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 Consider, first, that there is nothing 
 more certain than death. It is appointed 
 for all men once to die; and, after that 
 judgment. This sentence is general; 
 ^1a^ P^o^ounced on all the children of 
 Adam : neither wealth, nor strength, nor 
 wisdom, nor all the power of this world, 
 can exempt any one from this common 
 doom. From the first moment of our 
 uirin, we hasten to death: every mo- 
 ment brings it nigher to us. The day 
 will come, it will certainly come, and 
 
86 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 God only knows how soon, when we 
 shall never see the night; or the night 
 will come, when we shall never see the 
 nsuing morning. The day will most 
 lirtainly come, when thou, my soul! 
 must hid a long farewell to this cheating 
 world, and all thou hast admired 4here- 
 in; and even to thy own body, the in- 
 dividual companion of thy life; and take 
 thy flight to another country, where all 
 that thou settest a value upon here will 
 vanish like smoke: learn then to despise 
 this miserable world, with all its enjoy- 
 ments with which thou must part so 
 soon, whether thou wilt or not. 
 
 Consider, secondly, that as nothing is 
 more certain and inevitable than death, 
 so nothing is more uncertain than the 
 time — the place — the manner, and all 
 other circumstances of our death. " O 
 my soul!" says St. Francis of Sales, 
 " thou must one day part with this body: 
 but when shall that day be? Shall it 
 be in winter, or in summer? in the city, 
 or in the country? by day, or by nicht? 
 Shall it be suddenly, or on notice gfven 
 theo? Shalt thou have leisure to make 
 
s^hen we 
 he night 
 r see the 
 all most 
 [ly soul! 
 cheating 
 3d <here- 
 ', the in- 
 and take 
 ^here all 
 lere will 
 3 despise 
 ts enjoy- 
 part so 
 
 )thing is 
 n death, 
 han the 
 and all 
 th. " 
 f Sales, 
 is body: 
 Shall it 
 the city, 
 i night? 
 :e given 
 to make 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 37 ^ 
 
 » thy confession? Shalt thou have the 
 assistance ofthy ghostly father?" Alas! 
 of all this thou knowest nothing at all* 
 only that it is certain thou must ML 
 j^ and th*t, as it ahnost always happens, 
 thou must die much sooner than thou 
 dost imagine. 
 
 Consider, thirdli/, that death being so 
 certam, and the time and manner of it 
 so uncertain, it would be no small com- 
 fort if a man could die more than once, 
 that so, if he had the misfortune once to 
 die.ill, he might repair the fault by be- 
 ing more careful a second time. But, 
 alas I' we can die but once: for when 
 once we have set our foot within the 
 gates of eternity, there is no returning 
 back. If we die once well, it will be al- 
 ways well; but if once ill, it will be ill 
 with us for all eternity. O! dreadful 
 moment, on which depends an endless 
 eternity! O blessed Lord! prepare us 
 for that fatal hour. 
 
 Consider, fourthly, the folly and stu- 
 pidity of the greatest part of mankind, 
 who, though they daily see some or 
 II other of their friends, acquaintance, or 
 
38 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 neighbours carried off by death, and 
 that very often suddenly in the vigour 
 of youth, yet always imagine death to 
 be at a distance from them; as if those 
 arrows of death, which are falling on 
 all sides of them, would not reach them 
 too in their turn; or as if they had a 
 greater security than so many others 
 who are daily swept away. Senseless 
 worldlings! why will you not open your 
 eyes? why will you fondly imagine 
 yourselves secure from the stroke of 
 death, when you cannot so much as 
 promise yourselves one single day 'of 
 life? How many will die before the 
 end of this month, that are as young, 
 as vigorous, and as fiealthy as you are? 
 and who knows but you may be of that 
 number? Ah! Christians, take care 
 lest you be surprised; set your house 
 in order, and for the future avoid sin, 
 the only evil which makes death ter- 
 rible. Live always in those disposi- 
 tions in which you would gladly be 
 
 
 the hour of death. To act 
 
 otherwise, is to renounce both religion 
 and reason. 
 
 f 
 
 *^ 
 
 
ith, and 
 ) vigour 
 leath to 
 if those 
 ling on 
 :h them 
 y had a 
 others 
 enseless 
 en your 
 imagine 
 :'oke of 
 luch as 
 day'of 
 3re the 
 young, 
 ou are? 
 of that 
 e care 
 • house 
 Did sin, 
 th ter- 
 disposi- 
 dly be 
 To act 
 eligion 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 39 
 
 i 
 
 Comimn, ffthly, the state and condi- 
 tion of this corruptible body of ours, as 
 soon as we are dead: alas! it immediate- 
 ly becomes pale, stiff, loathsome, and hid- 
 eous,- insomuch, that our dearest friends 
 can scarce endure to watch one night in 
 the same room with it, much less bear 
 to he with it in the same bed : for so 
 fast does it tend to stench and corrup- 
 tion, that its nearest relations are the 
 first to wish it out of the house, and to 
 lay It deep under ground, that it may not 
 mfect the air. But what companions, 
 what attendants must it there meet with? 
 Worms and maggots. For these, O 
 man! thou art pampering thy body: 
 these are to be thy inheritance, O man! 
 or rather, they are to inherit thee: 
 whatever thou art to-day, to-morrow 
 thou will be the food of worms. Ah! 
 worldlings, that are enaimoured with 
 your own, or the beauty of others, and 
 thereby too often drawn from your al- 
 legiance to God, vouchsafe for once to 
 reflect upon the condition to which both 
 you and they must soon be reduced, 
 and you will see what little reason you 
 
40 ON THE SENTIMENTS WE SHALL 
 
 have to fix your affections upon such 
 painted dunghills, which quickly betray 
 what they are, and end in noisome- 
 ness and corruption. We read that St. 
 trancis Borgia was so affected with the 
 bare sight of the ghastly countenance of 
 the Empress Isabella after her deatli, 
 whom he had seen a little before in all 
 her majesty and charms, as to conceive 
 an eternal disgust of this world, and a 
 happy resolution of consecrating him- 
 self wholly to the service of that Kina 
 who never dies. Let the like conside- 
 ration move us to the like resolution. 
 
 EIGHTH DAY. 
 
 ON THE SENTIMENTS WE SHALL HAVE 
 AT THE HOUR OF DEATH. 
 
 Consider, first, Christian soul ! what 
 thy sentiments will be at tho hour of 
 death with regard to this world, and all 
 Its perishable goods, vain hononvo r=io.. 
 riches, and cheating pleasures! aImI 
 the world must then end in thy regard: 
 « will turn upside down before thy 
 
 I 
 
 
LL 
 
 n such 
 betray 
 )isome- 
 hat St. 
 ith the 
 mce of 
 death, 
 ! in all 
 nceive 
 and a 
 ; him- 
 ; King 
 •nside- 
 Lon. 
 
 [AVE 
 
 what 
 ir of 
 id all 
 
 Alas! 
 
 jard; 
 
 thy 
 
 i 
 1^ 
 
 
 DAVE AT THE HOUR OF DEATH. 41 
 
 eyes; and thou will begin to see dearly 
 the .nothingness of all those things on 
 which thou hast here set thy heart. 
 How wilt thou then despise all worldly 
 honours and preferments, when thou 
 seest thyself at the brink of the grave, 
 vyhere the worms will make no distinc- 
 tion between the king and the beggar? 
 How httle account wilt thou then make 
 ot the esteem of men, who then will 
 think no more of thee? How will thou 
 undervalue thy riches, which must now 
 be left behind- thee, when six foot of 
 land, a coffin, and a shroud, will be all 
 thy possessions? How despicable will 
 all worldly pleasures then seem to thee, 
 which at the best could never give thee 
 any true satisfaction, and which thou, 
 now beholdest to fly from thee, and dis- 
 solve into smoke? Ah! my poor soul, 
 enter now into the same sentiments 
 which thou Shalt certainly have at the 
 hour of thy death: as thus, and thus 
 
 fifllV. Ciifjlf 4-1-.^.. !-___.■/», 
 
 only, 
 
 snait thou be out of danger of 
 
 being deceived by this deceitful world. 
 
 Consider, secondlt,, what will then bo 
 
 thy thoughts with regard to thy sins; 
 
II 
 
 42 ON THE SENTIMENTS WE SHALL 
 
 when the curtain, with which thy busy- 
 self-love has industriously hidden or dis- 
 guised the deformity and malice of thy 
 crimes, shall be withdrawn, and all thy 
 sins shall be set before thy eyes in their 
 true light: when so many things, which 
 thou wast willing to persuade thyself 
 were but small faults, or none at all, 
 will present themselves before thee in 
 othar colours, as great and hideous 
 olfences: when that false conscience, 
 which thou hast framed to thyself, and 
 under the cover of which thou hast 
 passed over many things in thy con- 
 fussioDs, as slight and inconsiderable, 
 which thou wast ashamed to declare, or 
 unwilling to forsake, shall no longer be 
 able to maintain itself at the approach 
 of death. Ah ! what anguish, what con- 
 fusion, what dreadful temptations of 
 despair must such a sight as this give 
 to the dying sinner ! Learn then, my 
 soul! to take better measures now in 
 time, and thus to prevent so great a 
 misery. 
 
 Consider, thirdly^ and take a nigher 
 view of the lamentable state of a sinner 
 
 i\ 
 
I 
 
 
 HAVE AT THE HOUR OF DEATH. 43 
 
 at the hour of his death: when all things 
 seem to conspire against him, and which 
 way soever he looks for any ease or 
 comfort, he can find none. Before his 
 eyes, he sees a whole army of sins mus- 
 tered up: a viper's brood of his own off- 
 spring, which stick close to him, and, 
 assailmg him with their united force, 
 make him already begin to feel the 
 gripes of that never-dying worm of con- 
 science, which shall be the eternal tor- 
 ment of the damned. O! how gladly 
 would he shake off this troublesome 
 company: but all in vain; they are re- 
 solved not to leave him. If he look 
 back into his past life, to seek for some 
 good works, to oppose this army of sins, 
 alas ! he finds the good that he has done 
 has been so inconsiderable, so insigni- 
 ficant, as to give him no hopes of its 
 weighing down the scales, when ba- 
 lanced with his multiplied crimes. His 
 very prayers, and the confessions and 
 
 his face, and upbraid him with his 
 wretched negligence, and sacrilegious 
 abuse of these great means of salvation. 
 
44 ON THE SENTIMENTS WE SHALL 
 
 The sight of all things about him, his 
 wife, his children, his friends, bis world- 
 ly goods, which he has loved more than 
 God, serve for nothing now but to in- 
 crease his anguish. And what is his 
 greatest misery is, that the agonies of 
 his sickness give him little or no leisure 
 or ability to apply himself seriously to 
 the greatest and most difficult of all con- 
 cerns, which is, a perfect conversion to 
 God after a long habit of sin.' O! bow 
 truly may the sinner now repeat those 
 words of the Psalmist: The sorrows of 
 death have encompassed me, and the per- 
 ils of hell have found me, Ps. cxiv. O! 
 what unspeakable anguish must it be, 
 to see himself just embarking upon eter- 
 nity, an infinite and endless duration, 
 an immense ocean, to whose further 
 shore the poor sailor can never reach: 
 and to have so much reason to fear, it 
 will be to him an eternity of wo. 
 CoNsiDEn,fourthIy, my soul ! what thy 
 
 ^^»x^-lXil^^li^O Will UC UL IJIU JIOUT OI tflV 
 
 death, with relation to the service of 
 God, and to virtue and devotion: how 
 lovely will the way of virtue then ap- 
 

 - 
 
 HAVE AT THE HOUE OF DEATH. 45 
 
 pear to thee ! How wilt thou then wish 
 to have followed that charming path! 
 O! what a satisfaction is it to a dyinff 
 man to have lived well! What a com- 
 fort, to see himself now at the end of 
 al his labours and dangers; to find him- 
 selt at the gates of eternal rest, of ever- 
 lasting peace, after a long and doubtful 
 war! he may now securely come down 
 from his watch-tower, and repose him- 
 
 Father O! what a pleasure, what a 
 joy to look forward into that blessed 
 eternity! O! how precious in the sigM 
 0/ God IS the death of his saints, Ps. 
 CSV. Ah! Let my soul die t7ie death of 
 the just and let my last end be like to 
 theirs Numb, xxiii. Christians! if we 
 
 live the life of the just! The only se- 
 curity for a good death, is a good life. 
 
 Consider ffiMy, or rather conclude 
 trom the foregoing considerations on 
 death,_to make it the whole business of 
 your life to prepare for death. Upon 
 dying well depends nothing less than a 
 happy eternity. If we die ill, we are 
 
46 
 
 ON THE PARTICULAR 
 
 lost, and lost for ever. As, then, we 
 came into the world for nothing else, 
 but to provide for eternity, so we may 
 truly say, we came into the world for 
 nothing else, but to learn to d'o well. 
 This the great lesson which we must 
 all study. Alas! if wp miss it, when 
 we are called to a trial, an endless 
 duration of wo must be the necessary, 
 consequence. Ah! how hard is it to 
 learn to perform that well, which can 
 be done but once. 
 
 NINTH DAY. 
 
 ON THE PARTICULAR JUDGMENT AFTER 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 Consider, firsts that the soul is no 
 sooner parted from the body, but she is 
 immediately presented before the judge, 
 in order to give an account of her whole 
 life, of all that she has thought, said, or 
 done, during her abode in the body, and 
 
 A- :-- ^ i j: — u, "P^- 
 
 lo recuivu SuiiLUiiuu uutjuruiuji^i}'. xvx 
 
 that the eternal doom of every soul is 
 decided by a particular judgment imme- 
 

 .. 
 
 JUDCMENT AFTER DEATH. 47 
 
 diately after death, we learn from the 
 gospel ,n the example of Dives an^ La! 
 zarus: and the sentence that is passed 
 here will be ratified in the generaljudo'- 
 ment at the last day. Ch>ltiarsVhol 
 stand your accounts with God? What 
 
 If t us mght you should be cited to the 
 bar? It may be perhaps your case 
 Remember that your Lord wil[ come 
 
 then to be always ready. 
 
 Consider secondly/, how exact, how 
 rigorous this judgment will be, whel 
 even the least idle word cannot'eecaje 
 
 Jeasures'T-"'^ '>' •'"''g^- O! wh^at 
 treasures of iniquity will here come to 
 
 which h des at present the greatest oart 
 of our sins from the eyes of the woriS 
 and even from our own:_wherfi 
 whole history of our lives shall at oS 
 be exposed to our view, ^ood G^ 
 who can be able to be^r this dread^.' 
 -S"u iiere shall the poor souf te 
 
 thM^K* 'rT'' «^a°t account of aU 
 that she has done, or left undone, dur 
 
48 
 
 ON THE PAtlTICTTLAR 
 
 4 
 
 ing the whole time of her pilgrimage 
 in this mortal body: how she has cor- 
 responded with the divine inspirations; 
 what use she has made of God's graces;, 
 what profit she has reaped from the 
 sacraments she has received, from the 
 word of God which she has heard or 
 read; what advantage she has made of 
 those favourable circumstances in which 
 God Almighty has placed her; how she 
 has employed the talents with which 
 he has entrusted her: even her best 
 works shall be nicely sifted : her pray- 
 ers, her fasts, her alms-deeds: the in- 
 tention with which she has undertaken 
 them; the manner in which she has 
 performed them: not in the deceitful 
 balance of the judgment of men, but in 
 the scales of the sanctuary. Ah I how 
 many of our actions will then be found 
 to want weight, according to that of 
 "Dan. v. Thou hast been weighed in ike 
 balance, and art found of too little 
 weight. Enter not into judgment with 
 thy servant, O Lord! for no man living 
 shall be justified in thy sight. Psalm 
 cxlii. 
 
-*-• 
 
 I 
 
 JUDGMENT AFTER DEATH. 49 
 
 , Consider, thirdly, the qualities of the 
 judge before whom we must appear. 
 He IS mfinitely wise, and therefore can- 
 not be deceived; he is in^nitely jjozoer- 
 ful, and therefore cannot be resisted: 
 he is mfinitely just, and therefore will 
 render to every one according to his 
 r«orks No favour is to be expected at 
 this day: the time of merit and of ao 
 oeptable repentance is now at an end. 
 Ah . Christians, think well onH now whilst 
 It IS your day: you may now wash away 
 your sins by penitential tears, and thus 
 hide them from the eyes of your future 
 judge: you may at present tie up his 
 hands by humble prayer; you may ap- 
 peal from his justice to the court of his 
 mercy, and cause him to cancel the 
 sentence that stands against you: but at 
 that day you will find him inexorable- 
 y°"[^P''=*yers and tears will then come 
 
 Consider, fourthly, the inestimable 
 comfort that the souls of th^ ;„=. „i,~ii 
 receive at this day from the company 
 of their good works, which like an in- 
 vincible rampart shall surround them 
 
it 
 
 50 
 
 ON THE PARTICULAR 
 
 on all sides, and keep their hellish foes 
 at a distance. O my soul I let us take 
 care to provide ourselves with such 
 attendants as these, against that hour 
 which is to decide our eternal doom. 
 These are friends indeed, who will not 
 forsake us even in deatlj, but effectually 
 plead our cause at that bar where no 
 other eloquence will be regarded. 
 
 Consider, ffthly, in what a wretched 
 plight the sinner, who has taken no care 
 to lay up any such provision of good 
 works, shall now stand before his judge. 
 01 how all things now speak to him 
 the melancholy sentence, that is just 
 now going to fall upon his guilty head. 
 Whatever way he looks, he sees no- 
 thing that can give him any comfort; 
 but on the contrary, all things that con- 
 tribute to his greater ar-^uish and ter- 
 ror. Beneath his feet he sees hell open 
 ready to swallow him up: above his 
 head an angry judge prepared to thun- 
 der out against him the irrevocable sen- 
 
 
 __ _/• 
 
 ic rirrVit 
 
 hand, he sees his guardian angel now 
 abandoning him:' on his left the devils, 
 
JUDGMENT AFTER DEATH. 
 
 51 
 
 his merciless enemies, just ready to seize 
 upon him, and only waiting for the beck 
 of the judge: if he look behind, he dis- 
 covers a cheating world, which now 
 retires from him; if he look before, he 
 meets with nothing but a dismal eter- 
 nity. Within he feels the intolerable 
 stings of a guilty conscience; and on all 
 sides he perceives an army of those hid- 
 eous monsters, his own sins, more terri- 
 ble to him now than the furies of helL 
 Good God! deliver me from ever hav- 
 mg any share in such a scene of misery. 
 Consider, sixtlily, that in order to 
 prevent the judgment of Gou irom fall- 
 ing heavy upon us after death, we must 
 take care to judge and chastise our- 
 selves, by doing serious penance in this 
 lite; for thus, and thus only, shall we 
 disarm the justice of God, enkindled by 
 our sins. Let us follow the advice of 
 him who is to be our judge, who calls 
 upon us to watch and pray nt all times, 
 so that we may be found 
 escape these dreadful "d 
 with confidence before 
 Luke 
 
 worthy to 
 
 dangers, and stand 
 
 . e the Son of Man. 
 
 XXI. 36. Ah! let this judgment 
 
 'E:v^S^««€^ 
 
"'/r — 
 
 52 
 
 ON THE GREAT 
 
 be always before our eyes: let us medi- 
 tate on this account that we are one day 
 to give. . Let us never forget that there 
 is an eye above that sees all things; that 
 there is an ear that hears all things; 
 that thePB is a hand that writeth down 
 all our thoughts, words, and deeds, in 
 the great accounting-book; and that all 
 our actions pass from our hands to the 
 hands of God; that what is done in time, 
 passeth not away with time, but shall 
 subsist after all time is past. 01 that 
 men would be wise, and would under' 
 stand these truths, and provide in earn- 
 est jTor their last end! Deuter. xxxii. 
 
 TENTH DAY. 
 
 ON THE GREAT ACCOUNTING DAS'. 
 
 Consider, first, that nothing can be 
 conceived more terrible than the pros- 
 pect which scripture gives us of the 
 last accounting day, with all the pro- 
 digies that shall go before it. The sun 
 darkened, — the moon red as blood, — 
 the stars without light, and seeming to 
 
 ,j 
 
1 
 
 
 ACCOUNTING DAT. 
 
 53 
 
 fall from the firmament!-— the earth 
 shaken with violent earthquakes,—the 
 sea swelhng and roaring with unusual 
 tempests,— the elements all in confu- 
 sion, and whole nature in disorder. 
 I he day of the Lord, says the prophet 
 Joel, chap. li. is a dap of darkness and 
 obscurity, a day of clouds and whirl- 
 winds. Before its face devouring fire, 
 and behind it burning flames. The earth 
 shall tremble at the appearance of it, 
 and the heavens be moved at its sight, 
 Ihe sun and moon are darkened, and 
 ihe stars have ivithdrawn all their light. 
 And the prophet Sophonias, chap. i. 
 cries out, That day, a day of wrath, a 
 day of tribulation and anguish, a day 
 of calamity and misery, a day of dark- 
 nass and obscurity, a day of mists and 
 whirlwinds. Can any thing be more 
 trightful than these descriptions? Ah' 
 what will then be the thoughts of sinful 
 man, who sees himself threatened by 
 ail inese signs. Alas! he shall perfect- 
 ly wither away with fear, in expecta- 
 tion of that tragedy which must follow 
 these dreadful preludes. 
 

 ^ I 
 
 h 
 
 ■I 
 
 64 
 
 ON THE GREAT 
 
 Consider, secondly, that the last day 
 being come, a fire raging like an impet- 
 uous torrent, shall, by the command of 
 God, consume the whole surface of the 
 earth, and all that is thereon; — nothing 
 shall escape it. Where, O worldlings, 
 will then be all your stately palaces, 
 pleasant seats, gardens, fountains, and 
 grottoes; — where your gold, silver, and 
 precious stones, &c. Alas! all that you 
 set your hearts on in this world shall, 
 in a moment, be reduced to ashes; to 
 shew you the vanity of the things you 
 loved, and your own folly in placing 
 your affections upon such glittering 
 shadows, upon such painted bubbles. 
 Learn then, my soul, to despise this 
 world, with all its goods, since all must 
 end in smoke and ashes, and lay up to 
 thyself treasures in heaven, which alone 
 will be out of the reach of this last fire. 
 
 Consider, thirdly, that the final end 
 of this world being now come, the arch- 
 angel shall sound the last trumpet, and 
 raise his voice with a Surgite mortuiy 
 4^. Arise ye dead and come to judg' 
 ment: a voice that shall at once be heard 
 
 1 
 
 m 
 
ACCOUNTING DAY. 
 
 55 
 
 f 
 
 over the whole universe, that shall 
 pierce the highest heavens, and pene- 
 trate down to the lowest abyss of hell: 
 at this voice, in an instant, by the al- 
 mighty power of God, all the children 
 of Adam, from the first to the last, shall 
 arise from the dust, and each soul shall 
 «be united again to its respective body, 
 never more to be separated for eternity. 
 01 my soul, let ihh i-ist trumpet always 
 echo in thy ears O! take care to pre- 
 vent the terrors of this summons, by 
 hearkening now to another summons 
 of the great trumpet of the Holy Ghost, 
 who calls upon thee by the mouth of 
 the apostle. Arise thou that sleepeth, and 
 rise from the dead, that is, from the 
 death of sin, and Christ shall enlighten 
 thee, Eph. v. It is by thus having part 
 in the first resurrection, thou shalt pro- 
 vide in time against that dreadful hour, 
 when time shall he no more, Apoc. x. It 
 is thus thou shalt escape the second death. 
 CoissiijEn, fourthljf, the wonderful dif- 
 ference there will be at the time of this 
 general resurrection between the bodies 
 of the just and the wicked. The just 
 
I 
 
 ■ I 
 
 it 
 
 H 
 
 •I 
 
 56 
 
 ON THE GREAT 
 
 shall arise in immortal and impassible 
 bodies, more pure and beautiful than 
 the stars, and more resplendent than 
 the sun : but the wicked shall arise in 
 bodies suitable to their deserts, foul, 
 black, hideous, and in every other re- 
 spect loathsome and insupportable,- im- 
 mortal, it is true, but to no other pur^ 
 pose, than to endure immortal torments. 
 O what an inexpressible rack will it be 
 to these wretched souls, to be re-united 
 to such carcasses, to be condemned to 
 eternal confinement in such horrid and 
 filthy abodes! Ah! my soul, take thou 
 care to keep thy body now pure from ^ 
 ^ the corruption of carnal sins, lest other- 
 wise it become hereafter an aggravation 
 of thy eternal misery. 
 
 Consider, Jifthlj/, with how much joy 
 •and satisfaction the souls of the just 
 shall be again united to their bodies, an 
 union which they have so long desired; 
 with what affection will they embrace 
 those fellow-partners in all their la- 
 'bours, sufferings, and mortifications; 
 and now designed io give an addition 
 io their eternal happiness, by sharing 
 
;ll 
 
 ACCOUNTING DAY. 
 
 67 
 
 issible 
 
 than 
 
 than 
 ise in 
 
 foul, 
 sr re- 
 ; im- 
 
 pur# 
 lents. 
 
 it be 
 nited 
 3d to 
 i and 
 thou 
 from ^ 
 ther- 
 atioQ 
 
 just 
 s, an 
 ired; 
 race 
 • !a- 
 ons; 
 ition 
 ring 
 
 in the glory of the heavenly Sion. 
 But, O! what dreadful curses shall pass 
 at the melancholy meeting of the souls 
 and bodies of the reprobate? Accursed 
 carcass! will the soul say, was it to 
 please and indulge thy brutish inclina- 
 tion's, that I have forfeited the immortal 
 joys of heaven? Ah! v/retch, to in- 
 dulge thee in a filthy pleasure for a 
 moment, I have damned both myself 
 and thee to all eternity. O thrice ac- 
 cursed carrion! it is just, it is just, that 
 thou, who hast been the cause of my 
 damnation, shouldst be my partner ia 
 eternal wo. But oughtest thou not 
 rather, unhappy soul, to be a thousand 
 times more accursed by the body, since 
 it was thy business, and in thy power, 
 to have subjected its passions and lusts 
 to the rule of leason and religion; but 
 thou didst rather choose, for the sake 
 of a momentary satisfaction, to enslave 
 thyself to its sensual inclinations, and 
 
 is\j i.\j punjiiacsc iic;ii injiti ikjl' il uiiu liiV- 
 
 self. Ah! Christians, let us learn to be 
 wise by the consideration of the mis- 
 fortunes of others. 
 
I 
 
 '' 
 
 ;, 
 
 58 ON THE GENERAL JUDGIVIENT. 
 
 ELEVENTH DAY. 
 
 ON THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 
 
 Consider, first, that immediately af- 
 ter the resurrection of the dead, all 
 mankind shall be assembled t.>gether 
 in the place designed for the last judg- 
 ment, commonly believed to be the val- 
 ley of Josaphal, near Jerusalem, in 
 sight of mounts Olivet and Calvary, 
 where our Lord heretofore shed his 
 blood for our redemption. O! what a 
 sight will it be ID behold all the chil- 
 dren of Adam, that innumerable multi- 
 tude of all nations, ages, and degrees, 
 standmg together, without any distinc- 
 tion, as now, between rich and poor, 
 great or little, master or servant, mon- 
 arch or subject; excepting only the dis- 
 tinction of good and had, which shall 
 be wonderful and eternal. Alas! how 
 mean a figure will an Alexander, a 
 
 (jjpsar. or nnir r\. 
 
 
 heros of 
 
 antiquity, whose very name has made 
 whole nations tremble, then make? 
 Those mighty monarchs, who once had 
 
 01 
 
2NT, 
 
 ON THE GENERAL JTTDGMENT. 
 
 59 
 
 lately af- 
 dead, all 
 t.)gether 
 ast judg- 
 > the val" 
 alem, in 
 Calvary, 
 shed his 
 ! what a 
 the chil- 
 le multi- 
 degrees, 
 ' distinc- 
 id poor, 
 nt, mon- 
 
 the dis- 
 ch shall 
 is ! how 
 inder, a 
 leros of 
 IS made 
 
 make? 
 nee had 
 
 f 
 
 the world at their beck, are now on a 
 level with the meanest of their slaves, 
 and would wish a thousand times never 
 to have borne the sceptre, nor worn 
 the diadem. 
 
 Consider, secondly^ that the deed be- 
 ing assembled together, the great Judge 
 shall descend from heaven with great 
 glory and majesty, environed by his 
 heavenly courtiers, and whole legions 
 of angels. O! how different from his 
 first coming, will this his second ap- 
 pearance be^ His first coming was in 
 great meekness and humility; because 
 that was our day, in which he came to 
 redeem us by his mercy: but at his se- 
 cond coming it will be his day, when he 
 phaL arm himself with all the terrors 
 ot his justice, tc revenge upon sinful 
 man the cause of his injured mercy, 
 with a final irrevocable vengeance. — 
 Miserablr sinners, how will you be able 
 to stand b^ore his face, or endure his 
 wrathful countenance? - Ah! then it is 
 you will begin to cry out to the moun- 
 tains and rocks to fall upon you, and 
 hide you from the wrath of the Lamb, 
 
i ' 
 
 li 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 60 ON THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 
 
 from the face of him that sit'eth on the 
 throne. Nay, such a dread and hor- 
 ror will the very sight of the incensed 
 Judge carry with it, that you will even 
 wish a thousand times to hide your 
 guilty heads in the lowest abyss of hell, 
 rather than endure this dreadful ap- 
 pearance: but all in vain, you must 
 endure it. 
 
 Consider, thirdli/, that before the 
 •'"^g® shall be borne the royal stand- 
 ard of the cross, shining more bright 
 than the sun, to the great comfort of 
 the good, and the unspeakable anguish 
 and confusion of the wicked, for havinir 
 made so littje use of the inestimabll 
 benefit of their redemption. Here they 
 Shall see plainly how much their God 
 has suffered for their salvation; how 
 great has been his love for them; that 
 boundless and unparalled love, which 
 brought him down from his throne of 
 glory, and nailed him to th# cross. O! 
 
 how will tlipir ri^«, ^ J_ .1 . 
 
 : "'^^j "Q"' Cuudumn meir ob- 
 stinacy in sin, their blindness and in- 
 gratitude! O! how will this glorious 
 ensign justify, in the face of the whole 
 
lENT. 
 r 
 
 eth on the 
 and hor- 
 e incensed 
 will even 
 Lide your 
 ''ss of hell, 
 ^adful ap- 
 you must 
 
 efore the 
 ^al stand- 
 ee bright 
 3mfort of 
 e anguish 
 )r having 
 estimable 
 lere they 
 heir God 
 on; how 
 em; that 
 1?, which 
 hrone of 
 OSS. O! 
 ^heir ob- 
 and in- 
 glorious 
 le whole 
 
 ON THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 61 
 
 universe, the conduct of God, and the 
 eternity of hell's torments: for what 
 less than a miserable eternity can be a 
 sufficient punishment for so much ob- 
 stinacy in evil after such love? 
 
 Consider, fourthly^ how at the com- 
 mand of the sovereign Judge, which 
 shall be instantly obeyed, the servants 
 of God shall be selected from out of 
 the midst of that vast multitude, and 
 placed with honour on his right hand; 
 whilst the wicked, with those evil spir- 
 its, whose parts they have taken, shall 
 be driven with ignominy to the left. 
 0! dreadful and eternal separation, after 
 which these two companies shall never 
 any more meet. And thou, my soul! 
 where dost thou expect to stand at that 
 day? In which of these two companies 
 shalt thou be ranked? Thou hast it 
 now at thy option: choose then now that 
 letter part, which will never he taken 
 from thee. Fly now from the midst of 
 Babylon; renounce now the false max- 
 ims, corrupt customs, and sinful plea- 
 sures of worldlings; separate thyself 
 from the wicked in time, that thou 
 
I>' 
 
 h 
 
 il 
 
 
 «{f 
 
 62 ON THE GENERAL JUDTxMENT. 
 
 mv 
 
 in 
 
 mayest not 
 (lam nation. 
 
 Consider, ffthhj, what will then be 
 the thoughts of the great ones of this 
 world; what fury, envy, bitter anguish 
 and confusion will then oppress their 
 souls ; when they shall see the poor 
 m spirit, the meek and humble, who 
 were so contemptible in their eyes 
 whilst they were here in this mortal 
 life, now honoured and exalted in the 
 sight of the universe; and themselves 
 treated with such confempt. Hearken 
 to their complaints, as foretold by the 
 wise nian, Wisd. v. The^e are they whom 
 heretofore we laughed at, and whom 
 we made the subjects of our scoffs, 
 senseless wretches as we were, we es- 
 teemed their life madness, and their end 
 without honour. See how they are now 
 reckoned among the children of Gob, and 
 with the saints is their eternal lot. Er- 
 go erravimus a via veritatis, S^c. Alas! 
 after all, it is ourselves are the persons 
 ti^at have been mistaken; it is we that 
 have unfortunately run on in the wrong 
 way ! and they were truly wise in mak 
 
 m 
 
/ 
 
 lENT. 
 
 3ir eternal 
 
 11 then be 
 les of this 
 sr anguish 
 ress their 
 
 the poor 
 able, who 
 leir eyes 
 lis mortal 
 3d in the 
 lemselves 
 
 Hearken 
 id by the 
 hey whom 
 id whom 
 ir scoffs, 
 e, we es- 
 their end 
 ' are now 
 Goi),a?id 
 Jot. Er- 
 z, Alas! 
 
 persons 
 I we that 
 le wrong 
 
 in mak 
 
 ON THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 63 
 
 ing a better choice, which afforded them 
 comfort in life, and has now entitled 
 them to endless joys. 
 
 Consider, sixthly, how much the an- 
 guish and confusion of the wicked will 
 be increased, at the opening of the books 
 of conscience, when the guilt of their 
 whole lives shall be laid open to the 
 public view of the universe. Ah ! poor 
 sinner! what will thy thoughts be, when 
 those crimes, which thou hast commit- 
 ted in the greatest secresy, and which 
 thou wouldst not have had known for 
 the world; — those abominations which 
 thou imaginedst covered with the ob- 
 scurity of night and darkness, and which 
 thou didst flatter thyself thy friends 
 and acquaintance would never know;— . 
 those works of iniquity, which perhaps 
 thou couldst not find in thy heart to 
 discover to one person, tied by all laws 
 to a perpetual secresy, shall all now be 
 exposed in their true colours to the eyes 
 of the whole world, angels and men, 
 good and bad, to thy eternal shame. 
 Ah! Christians, it is now in your power 
 to prevent, by a sincere repentance and 
 
64 
 
 ON THE LAST SENTENCE 
 
 confession, this confusion, which you 
 must otherwise one day suffer. 
 
 TWELFTH DAY. 
 
 ON THE LAST SENTENCE OF THE GOOD AND 
 
 BAD. 
 
 Consider, Jirst, how this great trial 
 shall be concluded by a final definitive 
 sentence in favour of the just, and for 
 the condemnation of the wicked. And 
 first, the sovereign Judge, turning him- 
 self towards his elect, with a most sweet 
 and amiable countenance, shall invite 
 them into the happy nnansions of ever- 
 lasting bliss: Come, ye blessed of tny 
 Father, take possession of the kingdom 
 prepared for you from the beginning of 
 the world, Matt. xxv. O happy invita- 
 tion" happy, thrice happy they who 
 shall be found worthy to hear that com- 
 fortable sentence! What unspeakable 
 satisfaction, what torrents of joy and 
 
 j-.v„.,^..,i._. TTixi mv^ iicaiiiiy KJi 11 t^iVe to 
 
 those blessed creatures? I am filed 
 with joy, says the royal prophet, at the 
 
 hP 
 
CE 
 
 i^hich you 
 r. 
 
 OF THE GOOD AND BAD. 
 
 65 
 
 GOOD ANJ) 
 
 • 
 
 ^reat trial 
 definitive 
 t, and for 
 :ed. And 
 ning him- 
 lost sweet 
 all invite 
 3 of ever- 
 ed of my 
 
 kingdom 
 inning of 
 3y invita- 
 hey who 
 that com- 
 speakable 
 
 joy and 
 it give to 
 im filled 
 et, at the 
 
 happy tidings which I have heard, we are 
 to enter into the house of the Lord, Pa. 
 cxxi. But, O! what envy, what rage 
 and malice will the reprobate feel at 
 the hearing of this invitation, whan 
 they shall see several of their acqrdmt- 
 ancc called to take possession of t) at 
 eternal kingdom, which they also mi,^.;Ht. 
 have so easily purchased, had not their 
 own folly and stupidity blindly exchang- 
 ed it for the flames of hell. 
 
 Consider, secondly, and ponder at lei- 
 sure upon this happy sentence: Come^ 
 says the Judge, ye blessed of my Father^ 
 SfC. Come from the vale of tears, where 
 for a little while you have been tried 
 and afflicted by the appointment of my 
 providence, to the kingdom of never- 
 ending joy; where grief and sorrow 
 will exist no more. Come from the 
 place of thy banishment, where for a 
 time thou hast sighed and groaned at a 
 distance from thy heavenly country, to 
 
 ■"'J '-- T -^i itx^t-iii^ iiv/iiic, ^T(,iic;i,c iiiuu oiiaii 
 
 meet with all that thy heart can desire 
 to complete thy happiness; where thou 
 shalt be for ever inebriated with the 
 
66 
 
 \ 
 
 ON THE SENTENCE 
 
 plenty of my house, and drink for ever 
 at the fountain of life. "Arise, my be- 
 loved, the winter is now pastj the floods 
 and storms are over; arise and come." 
 O universal and eternal blessings ! How 
 my poor soul contemns all other happi^ 
 ness, in hcpes of having a share one 
 day in this blessed sentence! 
 
 Consider, tkirdly, how the great 
 Judge, after having invited the just to 
 his glorious kingdom, turning himself 
 towards the wicked on his left hand, 
 with fire in his eyes and terror in his 
 countenance, shall thunder out against 
 them the dreadful sentence of their 
 eternal doom in these words: Go from 
 tne you accursed into everlasting fre, 
 which was prepared for the devil and his 
 angels. Christian souls, weigh well 
 «very word of this dismal sentence. 
 Go for ever from me, and from the joys 
 of my kingdom: O terrible excommuni- 
 cation! O cruel divorce! O eternal 
 tanishment! Who can express— who 
 can conceive, what it is to be for ever 
 separated from God, — our first begin- 
 ning and last '^nd,— our great and sov- 
 
OF THE GOOD AND BAD. 
 
 67 
 
 k for ever 
 36, my be- 
 the floods 
 id come." 
 igs! How 
 ler happi- 
 hare one 
 
 tie great 
 le just to 
 : himself 
 3ft hand, 
 :or in his 
 t against 
 of their 
 Go from 
 ■ing fire, 
 I and his 
 igh well 
 sentence. 
 
 the joys 
 ommuni- 
 
 eternal 
 ss — who 
 for ever 
 it begin- 
 and sov* 
 
 4 
 
 ereign good. Ah! wretches who now 
 make so little account of losing your 
 God by mortal sin, what will you then 
 think, when you shall be sentenced 
 to this eternal banishment from him; 
 doomed to seek him during eternity, 
 and yet never to meet him in any of 
 his attributes, except his avenging jus- 
 tice, the weight of which you must feel 
 for ever. But take notice whither you 
 are to go, when you go from God. 
 Alas! into everlasting fire, there to lead 
 an ever-dying life, there to endure a 
 never-ending death, in the company 
 of the devil and his angels; to whom 
 you made yourselves slaves, and who 
 shall now, without controul, exercise 
 their tyranny over you for ever. 
 
 Consider, fourthly, that dreadful — 
 that universal curse which this just but 
 dismal sentence involves. Go from me, 
 ye cursed, says the sovereign Judge: as 
 if he should say. Go, depart from me, 
 
 \\iti tn}rck VY\\T u'tirvp \u\jt\\ vnn T wniiM 
 
 have given you my blessing, but you 
 would not have it; a curse you havfi 
 chosen, and a curse shall be your ever 
 
08 
 
 ON THE LAST SENTENCE 
 
 lasting inheritance. It shall stick close 
 to you, like a garment, for all eternity j 
 it shall enter into your very bowels, and 
 search into the very marrow of your 
 bones. A curse upon your eyes, never 
 to see the least glimpse of comfortable 
 light : — a curse upon your ears, to be en- 
 tertained for all eternity with the fright- 
 ful shrieks and groans of the damned: 
 — a curse on your taste, to be for ever 
 
 embittered with the gall of dragons: 
 
 a curse on your smell, to be always tor- 
 me ted with the noisome stench of the 
 pit :f hell:— a curse on your feelings 
 and on all the members of your body, 
 to burn and never consume in that 
 
 ^re which shall never be quenched: 
 
 a curse upon your understanding, never 
 to be illuminated with any ray of truth: 
 —a curse upon your memory, to be al- 
 ways revolving in bitterness upon a 
 late but fruitless ^-^pentance, and the 
 shortness and vanity of past pleasures: 
 — a curse upon your imagination, ever 
 representing present and future mis- 
 eries:— a curse upon your will, obsti- 
 nate in evil, torn in pieces with a 
 
OF THE GOOD AND BAD. 
 
 69 
 
 ick close 
 ternity; 
 ^e Is, and 
 of your 
 s, never 
 fortable 
 o be en- 
 3 fright- 
 lamned : 
 or ever 
 gons : — 
 ays tor- 
 of the 
 feelingy 
 r body, 
 in that 
 ;hed : — 
 ", never 
 f truth: 
 ► be al- 
 jpon a 
 nd the 
 asures : 
 », ever 
 e mis- 
 ) obsti- 
 ^ith a 
 
 -3 
 
 .1 
 
 thousand violent, and withal, opposite 
 desires, and unable to accomplish' any 
 of them: — a curse, in fine, upon your 
 whole soul, to be a hell to itself for all 
 eternity! Good God! let it never be 
 our misfortune to incur such dreadful 
 curses! 
 
 Consider, Jifthly, how, after sentence 
 has been given, the elect shall enter 
 without delay into the posserision of 
 that everlasting kingdom, which God 
 has prepared for those that serve him, 
 where sorrow can have no place, and 
 joy no end. But as for the wicked, 
 the earth shall immediately open and 
 swallow them all down in an instant, 
 with the devils who seduced them, into 
 the bottomless pit; when the gate shall 
 he shut, never, no never more to be 
 opened. Behold the end of all worldly 
 pride: behold the end of all carnal plea- 
 sure. O! how horrid a thing it is to 
 fall into the hands of the living Godf 
 Heb. X. 
 
;i 
 
 70 
 
 ON HELL 
 
 THIRTEENTH DAY. 
 
 ON HELL. 
 
 CoN&iDER, first, that as it is said in 
 holy writ, that neither eye has seen, nor 
 ear heard, nor has it entered into the 
 heart of man what God has prevared 
 for those that serve him, 1 Cor. n. 9.; 
 so we may truly say with regard to " 
 hell's torments, that no mortal tongue 
 can express, nor human heart conceive 
 them. Beatitude, acco.'ding to divines, 
 is a perfect and never-ending state, com- 
 prising at once all that is good, w hout 
 any mixliire of evil If then da-nnacion 
 be the opposite to beatitude, it must 
 needs be a complication, an everlasting 
 deluge of all that is evil, without the 
 lecst mixture of good, the least alloy 
 of ease, the least glimpse of comfort; in 
 a word, a total privation of happiness, 
 and a chaos of misery. 
 
 Consider, secondly, in a more narti- 
 culac manner, what'^ damnation is, and 
 how many and great are the miseriej 
 It involves. A dying life, or rather a 
 
 mm 
 
 r w 
 
 
 a 
 
 #'1 
 
 1 ^ 
 
 .♦ "V 
 
 1* w 
 
 ■■'J 
 
 I N 
 
ON HELL. 
 
 11 
 
 said in 
 een, nor 
 into the 
 revared 
 r. ii. 9.; 
 ^ard to 
 tongue 
 onceive 
 iivines, 
 te, com- 
 tb \out 
 tiRation 
 t must 
 lasting 
 )ut the 
 t alloy 
 brt; in 
 piness, 
 
 parti- 
 is, and 
 iseriej 
 Lther a 
 
 
 ♦i 
 
 living death; — a darksonne prison, a 
 loathsome dungeon; — a binding of hand 
 and foot in eternal chains; — a land of 
 horror and misery; — a land of fire and 
 brimstone; — a bottomless pit; — devour- 
 ing flames;— a serpent ever gnawing; 
 — a worm never dying; — a body al- 
 ways burning, and never consumed; — 
 a feeling always fresh for suffering;— 
 a thirst never extinguished ; — perpetual 
 weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. 
 No other company but devils, and damn- 
 ed wretches, all hating and cursing 
 each other, and hating and cursing God; 
 spirits always sick and in agony, yet 
 never meeting with death, which they 
 so much desire; cast forth from the 
 face of God into the land of oblivion, 
 none to comfort, none to pity them; 
 wounded to the heart with the sense of 
 lost happiness, and oppressed with the 
 feeling of present misery: and all these 
 sufferings everlasting, without the least 
 hope of end, intermission, or abatement 
 This is a short description, drawn for 
 the most part from the unerring word 
 of God, of the miseries which eternal 
 
''M 
 
 ON HEtL. 
 
 damnation imports: this is that bitter 
 cup of which all the sinners of ^e earth 
 must drink, Psalm Ixxiv. -^ "'^ ^"'^'^ 
 Consider, thirdly, that God in all his 
 attributes ,s infinite: as in his powe^! 
 wisdoir,, goodness, &f. so in his aveng- 
 wg just.ce als,.. He is a God as mu4 
 in hell as m Heaven; so that bv the 
 greatness of his love, n.ercy, and pa! 
 tience here, we n.-,y measure the great- 
 ness of his future wrath and venglance 
 agamst impenitent sinners hereafter! 
 «y his infinite goodness he has drawn 
 ^em out of nothing: he has preserved 
 dbw^ Z'' long time; he hr •• even come 
 down from his throne of glory and si.f 
 fared himself to be nailed'to a'dis" 
 ful cross for their eternal saivatiol: he 
 has frequently delivered them from the 
 dangers to which they were dail? ex! 
 posed; patiently borne with their inso- 
 lence and repeated treasons; still gra- 
 ciously inviting them to repentance. 
 AM how justly does his patience, so 
 -"S aousea, turn at length into fury? 
 Mercy at last gives place to justice: aid 
 a thousand woes to th«„, wretches, that 
 
ON HELL. 
 
 73 
 
 4 
 
 must ibr ever feel the dreadful weight 
 of the avenging hand of the living God! 
 Consider, fourthly, and in order to 
 uadeiStaiid somewhat better what hell 
 ip,; set before your eyes a poor sick 
 man \fmg on his bed, burning with a 
 pestilential fever attended with an uni- 
 versal pain over all his body, his head, 
 as it were, rent asunder, his eyes ready 
 to fly out, his teeth raging, his sides 
 pierced with dreadful stitches, his belly 
 racked with a violent cholic, his reins 
 with the stone and gravel; all his limbs 
 tormented with rheumatic pains, and all 
 his joints with the gout; his heart even 
 bursting with anguish, 'and he crying 
 out for a drop of "water to cool his ton- 
 gue. Can any thing be conceived more 
 miserable? and yet, let me tell you, 
 this IS but an imperfect picture of what 
 the damned must endure in hell for 
 eternity! where these victims, immo- 
 lated to the justice of God, shall be 
 salted all ni^fiT* tnUit ^^^ „^j J 
 
 ._ ,-.,., i.xjt.vtt, jvro, anu UiJUUre ill 
 
 all the senses and members of their 
 body, and in all the faculties of their 
 souls, exquisite torments! 
 
 
74 
 
 ON HELL. 
 
 Co}>isiJ)EVx,JifthIi/, that the state of the 
 poor sick man, of whom we have just 
 now been speaking, how deplorable so- 
 ever it may seem, might still be capable 
 of some alloy of ease, or degree of com- 
 fort; an easy bed to lie on, a good friend 
 to encourage or console him, a good 
 conscience to support him, a will re- 
 signed to the will of God, and, in fine, 
 a certain knowledge that his pains must 
 shortly abate, or put an end to his life. 
 But the damned have nothing of all 
 this. Their bed in hell is a lake or 
 pit burning with fire and brimstone, to 
 which they are fastened down with eter- 
 nal chains: their companions are mer- 
 ciless devils, or what will be to them 
 worse than devils, the unhappy part- 
 ners of their sins: their conscience is 
 ever gnawed with the worm that never 
 dies: their will is averse from God, and 
 continually struggling in vain with his 
 divine will : and what comes in to com- 
 plete their damnation, is a despair of 
 ever meeting with an end or abatement 
 of their torments. Good God! what 
 would not a prudent man do to prevent 
 
ON THE EXTERIOR, ETC. 
 
 76 
 
 the lying but for one night in torments 
 in this life? and where then are our faith 
 and reason, when we do so little for 
 escaping the dreadful night of hell's 
 merciless flames! 
 
 FOURTEENTH DAY. 
 
 ON XIIE EXTERIOR PAINS OF HELL. 
 
 Consider, /rs^, the description which 
 holy Job gives us of hell. Job x. when 
 he calls it a darksome land, and covered 
 with tht obscurity of death; a country of 
 misery and darkness, where no order, 
 but everlasting horror dwells. In this 
 gloomy region, no sun, moon, or stars 
 appear; no comfortable rays of light, 
 not even the least glimpse, are ever 
 seen. The very fire that burneth 
 there, contrary to the natural property 
 of that element, is black and darksome, 
 and affords no light to the wretches it 
 torments, excent it hfi in fli«r»nvoi. tr. 
 them such objects as may increase their 
 misery. Christians, v/'rut would you 
 thixik, were you to be ■ ^atenced to pass 
 
76 
 
 ON THE TxiTmon 
 
 the remainder of your days in some 
 horrid dungeon, or deep hole under 
 
 F^'u"? \Y.*'^'^ y"""" ^^"'^ '^^ver see uib 
 ligh Would not death itself be pre- 
 lerable to such a punishment? And 
 what IS th.i., when compared to that 
 eternal mght to which the damned are 
 sentenced! The Egyptians were in a 
 sad condition, when for thrc3 days the 
 whole kingdom was covered with a 
 dreadful darkness, caused by such -ross 
 exhalations, that they might even be 
 felt by the hand. But this misery was 
 soon over, and they were comforted by 
 the return of light. Not so the damned 
 in hell, whose night shall never have a 
 
 ^^Te"fa T ^'''''' ^''^''''^ ^^^ dawning 
 Consider, secondly, a.at the horror 
 ot this eternal night shall be beyond 
 measure aggravated by .nu dismal /nu- 
 SIC wherewith those poor wretches shal? 
 be for ever entertained in this melan- 
 choly abode; which shall be n. ot^^er 
 than the dreadfnl nnv^c.^^ ui. 
 
 and nsulting voices of the tormentors 
 and the nowlings, groans, and shrieks 
 
PAINS OP HELl. 77 
 
 of the tormented, &c. And that the 
 other senses may also partake in 'their 
 Share of misery, the smell shall be for 
 ever regaled with the loathsome oxt 
 ations of those infernal dunZ„s and 
 the mtolerahle stench of half put 'S 
 
 lac.e shall Lo oppressed with a mn^t 
 
 letling with an insupportable fire. 
 
 tormf t'f ■^'r'^^^' "'^^ ''f "» bodily 
 
 S there "^ "" '^''" ^"«'" '" »his 
 
 , , '"'^y? '^ none more terrible than 
 
 to burn alive- .yt, alas! the e is „o 
 
 omp^uson b< .ween burning h:r:\"d 
 
 DaintJd fl? -7^ • ■°" ««'-'h «re but 
 
 of hell Th''' f '°'"/'"°^ '» 'be fire 
 ot iiell. The fire of this world was 
 made to serve u<! .mrt i,„ """"was 
 but that nr h!n ' ^ """^ comfort; 
 
 out mat of hell was creaed to be an 
 
 instrument of the vengeance of r^ 
 upon sinners. The firf ofThis wS 
 cannot subsist witho.U beinl nourished 
 by some pnrr.b..»'.hl'- ---'■ °°'^^'^"cd 
 
 Tuk^'irT"""'-' »>"' 'he fi're of hel 
 «^mdted by the breath of an angry 
 ^, requires no other fuel th^n L. 
 
78 
 
 ON Tins EXTERIOR 
 
 which feeds it without ever decaying 
 or consuming. 01 dreadful stain of 
 sin, which suffices to maintain an ever- 
 lasting fire! The fire of this world 
 can only reach the body; but the fire 
 of hell reaches the soul itself, and fills 
 it with most exquisite torments. Ah! 
 sinnej-s, which of you all can endure 
 eternal burning? 
 
 Consider, /owr/A7?/, and in order to 
 frame a just notion of hell's torments, 
 give ear to a most authentic vision, re- 
 lated by St. Teresa, chap, xxxii. of her 
 Life. "As I was one day," says the 
 saint, «in prayer, on a sudden I found 
 myself in hell: I know not how I was 
 carried thither; only I understood, that 
 our Lord was pleased that 1 should see 
 the place which the devils had prepared 
 for me there, and which I had deserved 
 by my sins. What passed here with me 
 lasted but a very short while; yet if I 
 should live many years, I do not be- 
 lieve I should ever be able to forget it. 
 The entrance appeared to me To re- 
 semble that of an oven, very low, very 
 narrow, and very dark. The groand 
 
PAINS OF HELL. 
 
 79 
 
 cay in g 
 \m of 
 1 ever- 
 world 
 le fire 
 ad fills 
 . Ah! 
 endure 
 
 dor to 
 ments, 
 on, re- 
 ef her 
 ^s the 
 found 
 I was 
 i, that 
 ild see 
 spared 
 ;erved 
 ithme 
 !t if I 
 ot be- 
 ret it- 
 
 3 - - 
 
 to re- 
 , very 
 round 
 
 seemed like mire, exceedingly filthy, 
 slinking, insupportable, and full of a 
 multitude of loathsome vermin. At the 
 end of it there was a certain ho-llow 
 place, as if it had been a kind of a lit- 
 tle press in a wall, into which I found 
 myself thrust, and close pent up. Now, 
 though all this which I have said was 
 far more terrible in itself than I have 
 described it, yet it might pass for a 
 pleasure in comparison with that which 
 1 felt in this press: this torment was so 
 dreadful, that no words can express the 
 least part of it. I felt my soul burning 
 m so dismal a fire, that I am not able 
 to describe it. I have experienced the 
 most insupportable pains, in the judg- 
 ment of physicians, which can be cor- 
 porally endured in this world, as well 
 by the shrinking up of all my sinews, 
 as by many other torments in several 
 kinds: but all these were nothing in 
 comparison with what I suffered there: 
 
 •» ™ "viiiU ni^ugiu, liiii, TiiiS 
 
 was to be without end or intermission 
 for ever: and even this itself is still 
 little, if compared to the agony the soul 
 
80 
 
 ON THE EXTERIOR 
 
 IS in; It seems to her that she is choked, 
 that she IS stifled, and her anguish and 
 torture go to a degree of excess that 
 cannot be expressed. It is too little to 
 say, that it seems to her that she is 
 butchered and rent to pieces; because 
 this would express some violence from 
 without, which tended to her destruc- 
 tion; whereas, here it is that she her- 
 self IS her own executioner, and^ tears 
 herself in pieces. Now as to that in- 
 tenor fire and unspeakable despair, 
 which comes in to complete so many 
 horrid torments, I own I am not able 
 to describe them. I saw not who it 
 was that tormented me; but I perceived 
 myself to burn; and, at the same time, 
 to be cut as it were, and slashed in 
 pieces. In so frightful a place, there 
 was no room for the least hopes of 
 comfort; there wsa no such thing as 
 even sitting or lying down: I was 
 thrust into a hole in a wall; and those 
 horrible walls close in upon the noor 
 prisoners, and press and stifle them. 
 Ihere is nothing but thick darkness 
 Without any mixture of light, and 
 
 yet 
 
 '^v. 
 
PAINS OF HELL. 
 
 81 
 
 > is choked, 
 iguish and 
 xcess that 
 00 little to 
 bat she is 
 ?; because 
 3nce from 
 r destruc- 
 t she her- 
 ana tears 
 that in- 
 5 despair, 
 so many 
 not able 
 )t who it 
 perceived 
 ime time, 
 lashed in 
 ce, there 
 hopes of 
 thing as 
 : I was 
 nd those 
 the poor 
 ^e them, 
 darkness 
 and yet 
 
 I know not how it is, though there be 
 no light there, yet one sees all that 
 may be most mortifying to the sight. — 
 Although it be about six years since 
 this happened which I here relate, I am 
 even now in writing of it so terrified, 
 that my blood chills in my veins: so 
 that whatsoever evils or pains I now 
 suffer, if I do but call to my remem- 
 brance what ! then endured, all that 
 can be suffered here appears to me just 
 nothing." So far the saint, whose re- 
 lation deserves to be pondered at lei- 
 sure: for if such t'^rrible torments had 
 been prepared for her, whose life from 
 her cradle (a few worldly vanities, 
 which for a short time she had follow 
 ed, excepted; had been so innocent, 
 what must sinners one day expect? 
 
 Consider, Jifthly, that there is no 
 man on earth, in his senses, who would 
 be willing, even for the empire of the 
 world, to be broiled on a gridiron like 
 
 u-x_A i--.ir 
 
 hour by a slow fire, though he was 
 sure to come off with his life; nay, 
 where is the man that woifld even ven- 
 6 
 
82 
 
 ON THE INTERIOR 
 
 ture to hold his finger in the flame of a 
 candle for half a quarter of an hour, 
 for any reward that this world can 
 give? Where is then the judgment of 
 the far greater part of Christians, who 
 pretend to believe a hell, yet live on 
 with so little apprehension and concern, 
 for years together, in the guilt of mor- 
 tal sin; in danger every moment of 
 falling into this dreadful and everlast- 
 ing fire, having no more than a hair's 
 breadth, that is, the slender thread of 
 an uncertain life between their souls 
 and a miserable eternity! Good God! 
 deliver us from this unfortunate blind- 
 ness — from this desperate folly and 
 madness. 
 
 FIFTEENTH DAY. 
 
 ON THE INTERIOR PAINS OF HELL. 
 
 Consider, first, that the fire of hell 
 with all the rest of the exterior tor- 
 ments, which are endured there, are 
 terrible indeed ; but no ways compara- 
 ble to the interior pains of the soul; 
 
 If 
 
 € 
 
\me of a 
 Lii hour, 
 >rld can 
 ;ment of 
 ins, who 
 live on 
 concern, 
 of mor- 
 Tient of 
 3verlast- 
 a hair's 
 read of 
 ir souls 
 od God! 
 te blind- 
 >lly and 
 
 HELL. 
 
 o^hell 
 'iur tor- 
 3 re, are 
 ompara- 
 le soul; 
 
 PAINS OF HELL. 
 
 the pcona damni, or eternal loss of God, 
 and of all that is good — the extremity 
 of anguish which follows from this loss 
 — the rueful remorse of a bitter but 
 fruitless repentance, attended with ever- 
 lasting rage and despair — the complica- 
 tion of all those racking tortures in the 
 inward powers and faculties of the soul, 
 are torments incomparably greater than 
 any thing that can be suffered in the 
 body. 
 
 Consider, secondly, in particular, that 
 pain of loss, which, in the judgment of 
 divines, is the greatest of all the tor- 
 ments of hell; though worldlings here 
 have difficulties of conceiving how this 
 can be possible. Alas! poor sinners, so 
 v/eak is their notion of eternal goods, 
 and so deeply are they immersed in 
 the goods of this world, amusing them- 
 selves with a variety of created objects, 
 which divert their thoughts from God's 
 sovereign goodness, that they cannot 
 conceive bow the loss of God can he 
 so great and dismal a torment, as his 
 saints and servants, who are guided by 
 better lights, agree it to be. But the 
 
 fr 
 
^i 
 
 I 
 
 84 
 
 ON THE INTERIOR 
 
 case will be altered when they find 
 themselves in hell. There they shall 
 be convinced, by woful experience, 
 what a misery it is to have Iq^t their 
 God; lost him totally; lost him irrevo- 
 cably; lost him eternally; lost him in 
 himself; lost him in all his creatures*, 
 and to be eternally banished from him, 
 who was their only happiness, last end, 
 sovereign good, nay, the overflowing 
 fountain of all good: and in losing him 
 to have lost all that is good, and that 
 for ever. As long as sinners are in 
 this mortal life, they many ways par- 
 take of the goodness of God, v;ho makes 
 the sun to rise on the good and bad^ arid 
 the rain to fall upon the just and unjust. 
 All that is agreeable in this world, all 
 that is delightful in creatures, and all 
 that is comfortable in life, is all m some 
 measure a participation of the divine 
 goodness. No wonder then, that the 
 sinner, whilst he so many ways par- 
 
 ^.1„ - C .1 _ _. _J__ _f /~1-J -1 u 
 
 not in this life be sensible of what it is 
 
 # to be totally and eternally deprived of 
 
 him. But in helu alas! those unhappy 
 
 #1 
 
 5 
 
PAINS OF HELL. 
 
 85 
 
 jy find 
 y shall 
 rience, 
 it their 
 irrevo- 
 him ill 
 atures*, 
 m him, 
 ist end, 
 flowing 
 ng him 
 id that 
 
 are in 
 ys par- 
 ) makes 
 ad^ and 
 unjust, 
 >rld, all 
 and all 
 m some 
 
 divine 
 
 bat the 
 
 ys par- 
 -1 I J 
 
 bat it is 
 iveo 01 
 nhappy 
 
 wretches shall find, that in losing God, 
 they have also lost all kind of good or 
 comfort, which any of his creatures 
 ^ heretofore afforded ; instead of which 
 they find all things now .conspiring 
 against them, noi any way left of di- 
 verting the dreadful thought of this 
 loss, which is always present to their 
 minds, and grinds them with inexpres- 
 sible torments. 
 
 Consider, thirdly, that every damned 
 soul shall be a hell to herself,*and all 
 and every one of her powers and facul- 
 ties shall have their respective hells. 
 Her memory shall be for ever torment- 
 ed, by revolving without ceasing on 
 her past folly, stupidity and madness, 
 in forfeiting the eternal joys of heaven, 
 that ocean of bliss, which she might 
 have obtained at so cheap a rate, and 
 which so many of her acquaintance are 
 now in possession of, for an empty, 
 trifling pleasure, that lasted but for. a 
 "• "■ '-"77 ""^ i'-ii' "ULiHiig Deniiia but 
 the stam of sin, arid the remorse of a 
 guilty con.science; or, for some petty in- 
 terest, or punctilio of honour, bv which 
 
f 
 
 86 
 
 ON THE INTERIOR 
 
 'I 
 
 II 
 
 she was then robbed of all her trea* 
 sures and honours; and, upon account 
 of which, she is now so miserably poor 
 and vliispicable, eternally trodden under 
 foot by insulting devils. Oh! what will 
 her judgment then be of this transitory 
 world, and all its cheating vanities, 
 when after having been millions of 
 ages in hell, looking back from that 
 immense eternity, and scarce being able 
 to find out in that infinite duration, this 
 little pofnt of her "mortal life, she shall 
 compare time with eternity.^ past plea- 
 sures with present pains, virtue with 
 vice, and heaven with hell? 
 
 Consider, fourthly, that the under- 
 standing of the damned shall also have 
 its proper hell, in being for ever de- 
 prived of the light of truth, always em- 
 ployed in false and blasphemous judg- 
 ments and notions concerning God and 
 his justice, to the great increase of its 
 own misery; and ever dwelling upon 
 the thoughts of present and future tor- 
 ments, without being able for a moment 
 to think of any thing else: so that all 
 and every one of the torments which 
 
PAINS OF HELL. 
 
 87 
 
 er trea- 
 account 
 bly poor 
 111 under 
 'hat will 
 ansitory 
 vanities, 
 lions of 
 om that 
 ling able 
 ion, this 
 5he shall 
 ist plea- 
 ue with 
 
 i under- 
 Iso have 
 3ver de- 
 "dys em- 
 us judg. 
 jod and 
 se of its 
 ng upon 
 ture tor- 
 moment 
 that all 
 s which 
 
 the damned endure, and are to enduro 
 for eternity, are every moment before 
 the eyes of their understanding; and 
 ^ thus in every moment they bear the 
 ' insupportable load of a miserable eter- 
 nity. 
 
 CONSiBBu, Jifthlp, that as the obsti- 
 nate will of the sinner has been the 
 most guilty, so this power of the soul 
 shall suffer in proportion the greatest 
 torment; always seeking what she shall 
 never find, and ever flying from what 
 she must eternally endure. Ah I what 
 fruitless longings, what vain wishes, 
 shall be her constant entertainment,^ 
 whilst she is doomed for eternity, never 
 to attain to any one, even the least^ 
 thing which she desires! O! who caa 
 express that violent impetuosity, with, 
 which the will of these wretches is now 
 carried towards God : sensible as they 
 are of the immense happiness which is 
 found in the enjoyment of him? But, 
 alas! they always find arr invisible hand 
 that drives them back, or rather they 
 always find themselves bound fast down* 
 in eternal chains, struggling in vain» 
 
¥ 
 
 '^.--■n^XMtMMtSik? 
 
 i 
 
 P! 
 
 1 
 
 ON A MISERABLE ETERNITY. 
 
 with that hand which they cannot re 
 sist, and unable to make the least ap- 
 proach towards the objects of their reet- 
 less desires. Hence they break forth 
 into a thousand blasphemies; hence the * 
 whole soul is torn in pieces with a 
 whole army of the violeYit, and withal 
 opposite passions of fury, envy, hatred, 
 despair, &;c. These torments of the 
 interior powers of the soul, are attend- 
 ed with that never-dying worm of con- 
 science, which shall for ever pr^y upon 
 those miscreants. By which is meant 
 an eternal remorse, a bitter but fruit- 
 less repentance, which is ever racking 
 their despairing souls. Sweet Jesus, 
 deliver us from such a dreadful com- 
 plication of evils! 
 
 SIXTEENTH DAY. 
 
 ON A MISERABLE ETERNITY. 
 
 Consider, Jirst^ that what above all 
 things makes hell intolerable, is the 
 itoruity of its torments. It is this eter- 
 nity, which is au infinite aggravation 
 
ON A MISERABLE ETERNITY. 
 
 89 
 
 not re 
 last ap- 
 jir reet- 
 k forth 
 nee the 
 with a 
 
 withal 
 hatred, 
 of the 
 attend- 
 of con- 
 jy upon 
 
 meant 
 t fruit- 
 racking 
 
 Jesus, 
 il com- 
 
 ove all 
 
 is the 
 
 lis eter- 
 
 avatioa 
 
 to all and every one of them: it is 
 this loathsome ingredient which makes 
 every drop of that bitter cup of the 
 divine vengeance, of which the sinners 
 of the eai'th must drink, so insupport- 
 able. Were there any hopes that the 
 miseries of the damned would one day 
 have an end, though it was after mil- 
 lions of ages, hell would no longer be 
 hell, because it would admit of some 
 comfort. But, for all those inexpres- 
 sible torments to continue for ever, as 
 long as God shall be God, without the 
 least hopes of ever seeing an end of 
 them: Oh! this it is, that is the greatest 
 rack of the damned. O! eternity, eter- 
 nity! how little do worldlings appre- 
 hend thee now! But how terrible wilt 
 thou be to them one day, when they 
 shall find themselves engulfed in thy 
 bottomless abyss, there to be for ever 
 the butt and mark of all the arrows of 
 God's avenging justice! 
 
 Consider, secondly, if one short nierht 
 seems so long and tedious to a sick man 
 in a burning fever; if he tosses and 
 turns to and fro, and no where finds 
 
1 
 
 !H 
 
 ill! 
 
 90 
 
 ON A MISERABLE ETERNITY. 
 
 rest; if he counts every hour, and with 
 so much impatience longs for the suc- 
 ceeding morning, which yet will bring 
 him but little relief or comfort; what 
 must this dreadful ni^^ht of eternity be, 
 accompanied with all the interior and 
 exterior torments of hell! No man in 
 his senses would purchase a kingdom 
 at the rate of lying for ten years on a 
 soft bed of down, without arising from 
 it. Ah! what misery then must it be 
 to be chained dov ;k to a bed of fire and 
 brimstone, not ^" ion years, nor yet 
 for ten thousand Hmes ten, but for as 
 many hundred thousand millions of 
 ages, as there are drops of water in the 
 ocean, atoms in the air, or, in a word, 
 for an immense eternity. 
 
 Consider, thirdly^ and in order to 
 conceive still better what this eternity 
 is, imagine with thyself, that if any 
 one of the damned were to shed but 
 one single tear at the end of every 
 thousand years, till he had shed tears 
 enough to fill the sea; what an im- 
 mense space of time must this require! 
 The world has not yet lasted six thou- 
 
 I 
 
ON A MISERABLE ETERNITY. 
 
 91 
 
 im- 
 
 sand years; so that the first of all the 
 damned would not have shed six tears. 
 And yet, O dreadful eternity! the time 
 will certainly come, when anyone of 
 those wretches, that are now in hell, 
 may be able with truth to say, that, 
 at the rate of one tear, for a thousand 
 years, he might have shed tears enough 
 to drown the whole world, and fill up 
 the immense space between heaven and 
 earth: and happy v/ould he think him- 
 self if his torments were then to have 
 an end. But, alas I after these millions 
 of millions of ages, he shall be as far 
 from the end of his misery as he was 
 the first day he fell into hell. Com- 
 pute after this, if thou pleasest, as many 
 hundred thousand millions of years as 
 thy thoughts can reach to; nay, sup- 
 pose the whole surface of the earth to 
 be covered with numerical figures; cast 
 up, if thou canst, this immense sum of 
 years, and then multiply it by itself, 
 and multiply again a ^second time the 
 product by itself; and then at the foot 
 
 of this immense account 
 Here begins eternity, 
 
 write down, 
 terrible eter* 
 
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 92 ON A MISERABLE ETERNITY. 
 
 nity! is it possible that they who be- 
 Iieve thee, should not fear thee? and is 
 It possible, that they v,ho fear thee, 
 should dare to sin? 
 
 Consider, fourthli/, that in this eter- 
 nity It would be some small comfort to 
 the damned, if their pains, like those 
 ot this life, had any intermission or 
 abatement. But, alas! their torments 
 are always uniformly the same; their 
 eternal fever never abates. For as 
 their sins are always the same, and the ' 
 gate of mercy and pardon is eternally 
 shut against them,- so the punishment 
 ot their sins shall always continue in 
 one and the same degree of rigor, with- 
 out the least remission or diminution. 
 I he rich glutton in hell, Luke xiv. has 
 not yet been able to obtain so much as 
 that single drop of water, for which he 
 so earnestly begged; nor will he ever 
 obtain It for all eternity. Nor shall 
 length of time inure these wretches to 
 those evils which they suffer, so as to 
 make tjiem the more supportable; nor • 
 Siiau iiabit or custom harden them 
 against their acuteness; but after mil 
 
ON HEAVEN; 
 
 93 
 
 lions of ages their torments shall be as 
 fresh, and their feelings of them the 
 same as on the first day. Great God! 
 who can bear thy indignation, or sup- 
 port the weight of thy avenging hand. 
 O! dreadful evil of mortal sin, which 
 can thus enJcindle this eternal flame? 
 
 SEVENTEENTH DAY. 
 
 ON HEAVEN. 
 
 Consider, first, that if the justice of 
 God be so terrible in regard to his ene- 
 mies, how much more will his mercy, 
 goodness, and bounty, declare them- 
 selves in favour of his friends! Mercy 
 and goodness are his favourite attri- 
 butes, in which he most delights: His 
 tender mercies, says the royal prophet, 
 Psalm cxliv. are above all his works. 
 What then must this blessed kingdom 
 be, which in his goodness he has pre- 
 pared for his beloved children, for the 
 — "•"^'■^■^"-i^^xi v^i Ills liuuus, giory and 
 
 magnificei 
 
 dom, which the Son of God himself hai 
 
 mce for all eternity. A king- 
 
u 
 
 ON HEAVEN. 
 
 purchased for us, at no less a price, 
 than that of his own most precious 
 blood. No wonder then that the apos- 
 tle cries out, 1 Cor. ii. 9. That neiihei 
 eye hath seen, nor ear heard, nor hath 
 it entered into the heart of man, lohat 
 God has prepared for those that love 
 him. No wonder that this beatitude is 
 described by divines, as a perfect and 
 everlasting state, replenished with all 
 that is good, without the least mixture 
 of evil; a general and universal good, 
 filling to the brim the vast capacity of 
 our affections and desires, and eterr' "V 
 securing us from all fear, danger, d 
 want of change. O! here it is, that the 
 servants of God, as the Psalmist de- 
 clares. Psalm XXXV. shall he inebriated 
 with the plenty of God''s house, and shall 
 he made to drink of the torrent of his 
 pleasure; even of ihsit fountain of life 
 which is with him, and flows from him, 
 into their happy souls for ever and ever. 
 Consider, secondly, that although this 
 
 nlnca/:>f1 lrinrrrlrv>-r» nKr^nnrjcs tiritV* oil tViof 
 
 can be imagined good and delightful, 
 yet there is one sovereign good, in the 
 
 
ON HEAVEN. 
 
 95 
 
 sight, love, and enjoyment of which 
 consists the essential beatitude of the 
 soul; and that is, God himself, whom 
 \he blessed shaU ever behold face to 
 fice: and, by the contemplation of his 
 mhnite beauty, are set on fire with se- 
 raphic flames of love, and by a most 
 pure and amiable union, are transform- 
 ed in a manner into God himself: ,13 
 n^hen brass or iron in the furnace is 
 perfectly penetrated by the fire, it loseth 
 Its own nature, and becoiPeth all flame 
 and fire. Happy soul! what can be 
 wanting to complete your joys who are 
 in perfect possession of God, the over- 
 flowing source of all good; who have 
 within and without you, the vast ocean 
 of endless felicity! O! the excessive 
 bounty of our God, who giveth his ser- 
 vants, in recompense of their loyalty, a 
 reward so great and good, which is no- 
 thing less than himself, who is the im- 
 mense joy of angels. O ! shall not that 
 suffice, my soul, to make thee happy, 
 "■"'-" ^^"*xveo vjuu iiimseii happy/ 
 
 CoNsiDEii, thirdly, the glory and beau- 
 ty ot the heavenly Jerusalem, which 
 
96 
 
 ON HEAVEN. 
 
 I I i 
 
 the holy scriptiye, to accommodate it- 
 self to our weakness, represents under 
 the notion of such things as we most 
 admire here below. Thus St. John, in 
 his Apocalypse, describing this blessed 
 city, tells us, that its walls are of pre- 
 cious stones, and its streets of pure and 
 transparent gold: that these streets are 
 watered by the river of the waters of 
 life, which, resplendent as chrystal, flows 
 from the throne of God; and that on 
 each side the banks of this river grows 
 the tree of life; that thei^ shall he no 
 night, nor any sun or moon, but that 
 the Lord God shall be its light for ever. 
 O blessed Jerusalem! O! how glorious 
 are the things t]iat are said of tJiee, O 
 city of God! But what wonder? For 
 if our God has given us so great and 
 noble a palace here below, in this place 
 of banishment, beautified with the sun, 
 moon and stars, furnished and adorned 
 with such an infinite variety of plants, 
 flowers, trees, and living creatures of 
 
 on mnn\7- qnrtQ. nil siib«;firvip!nt. to man: 
 
 iff I say, he has so richly provided for 
 us in this vale of tears, and region of 
 
ON HEAVEN. 
 
 vt 
 
 nodate it- 
 nts under 
 
 we most 
 ;. John, in 
 is blessed 
 re of pre- 
 
 pure and 
 treets are 
 waters of 
 ^stal, flows 
 d that on 
 ver grows 
 hall be no 
 , but that 
 t for ever. 
 \w glorious 
 of thee, O 
 der? For 
 great and 
 
 this place 
 h the sun, 
 d adorned 
 
 of plants, 
 matures of 
 t to man* 
 ovided for 
 
 region of 
 
 the shade of death, what must our eter- 
 nal habitation be in the land of the liv- 
 ing, l^ here he be so bountiful even 
 to his enemies, in giving them so com- 
 modious so noble a dwelling, what may 
 not his friends and servants expect in 
 his eternal kingdom; in which, and by 
 which he designs to manifest to them 
 his greatness and glory, for endless 
 ages in an everlasting banquet, which 
 he has there prepared for his elect? 
 Jilessed by all creatures be his good- 
 ness lor ever. 
 
 Consider, fourthly, the blessed in- 
 habitants of this heavenly kingdom, 
 those millions of millions of angels, of 
 whom the prophet Daniel, having seen 
 God Alniighty in a vision, tells us, Dan. 
 yiu. I hat thousands of thousands min- 
 istered to him, and ten thousand of hun- 
 areds of thousands stood before him: 
 that infinite multitude of saints and 
 martyrs, and other servants of God of 
 both sexes gathered out of all nations, 
 
 tribes and tonsruRs- unf^ oK^,.« *u . 
 
 all, the blessed Virgin Mother of God, 
 ^ueen ot saints and angels: whoso 
 
d8 
 
 ON HEAVEN. 
 
 number is innumerable: but, O! who 
 can express the happiness of enjoying 
 the society of this most noble, glorious, 
 wise, holy and blessed company. They 
 are all of blood royal:— all kings and 
 queens: — all children and heirs of the 
 most high God; ever beautiful and al- 
 ways young; crowned with wreaths 
 of immortal glory, and shining more 
 bright than the sun. Their love and 
 charity for each other are more than 
 can be conceived : they have all but one 
 heart, will, and soul; so that the joy 
 and satisfactiou of every one are multi- 
 plied as many fold, as there are blessed 
 souls and angels in heaven, by the in- 
 expressible delight each other takes in 
 the happiness of all, and every one of 
 the rest. O! Christians, let us then 
 imitate their virtues here, that we may 
 enjoy their happy society hereafter, 
 and with them eternally sing to our 
 God the immortal canticles of praise 
 
 in Sion. 
 
 ComimK, fifthly, that what renders 
 the joys of heaven, and the felicity of 
 its blessed inhabitants completely great, 
 
 
 14. 
 
 i; 
 
 f*i 
 
'W 
 
 0! who 
 
 enjoying 
 glorious, 
 r. They 
 ings and 
 rs of the 
 il and al- 
 
 wreaths 
 ng more 
 love and 
 ore than 
 il but one 
 t the joy 
 ire multi- 
 re blessed 
 3y the in- 
 i' takes in 
 ry one of 
 
 us then 
 t we may 
 hereafter, 
 ig to our 
 of praise 
 
 it renders 
 felicity of 
 ely great, 
 
 ON IffiAVEW. 
 
 99 
 
 I 
 
 1 ■». 
 
 1 
 
 M the consideration of the daration of 
 thw bhss, and that infallible certify 
 and security which they enjov hl^ 
 their happiness is even^linZd'S 
 Gods eternity; that as C .„ V^ 
 S'> «°t' they shall reli^ ^^ 
 3 '"'»«, Wessed kingdom. O! my 
 
 t'tkTorSrtoth-'^''^'''''"''"^ 
 and there tX thys Snnli^T"'^' 
 pr^pect of endless^gisVo! tSj: 
 
 joys for th J*' P'^Pf ^"^ ^"'^h i""norte^ 
 wis JJf •^''^"^ ^'^ ^»°h small ser- 
 vicer, and designed them for thee from 
 all eternity Norshill .k;„ • 
 eternity ren^r., *u ■ ""menso 
 
 th^ that etiSllv /'^ ^""^ " 
 
 ral. and fro;;;";^!; "^u'rlUa 
 journey toward, this glorLXvSf 
 
100 
 
 ON THE SMALL NUMBER 
 
 ly, and eternal kingdom. There thou 
 Shalt find all that thy heart can desire, 
 immortal honours; immense riches; 
 pure and eternal pleasures; life, health, 
 beauty never fading, &c. O I this alone 
 is thy true home — the land of the living. 
 
 EIGHTEENTH DAY. 
 
 ON THE S1\IALL NUMBER OF THE ELECT. 
 
 Consider, ^rs^, those words of Christ, 
 Many are called^ hut few are chosen; 
 which contain a great and awful truth, 
 frequently inculcated by the mouth of 
 truth itself, to rouse unthinking mortals 
 from that profound lethargy into which 
 the enemy has lulled them. This is 
 one of those lessons which he has laid 
 down for a foundation of christian moral- 
 ity, in his divine sermon on the moun- 
 tain, St. Matt. vii. 13, 14. where he 
 exhorts us to enter in at the narrow 
 gate, for broad is the gate, and wide is 
 the way, that leads to damnation, and 
 many there are that enter by it, O! how 
 narrmv is the gate, and strait the way 
 
3 thou 
 
 desire, 
 riches; 
 oealtb, 
 3 alone 
 living. 
 
 OF THE ELECT. 
 
 101 
 
 ELECT. 
 
 Christ, 
 chosen; 
 
 truth, 
 uth of 
 xiortals 
 
 which 
 Phis is 
 as laid 
 
 moral- 
 
 moun- 
 ere he 
 narrow 
 wide is 
 m, and 
 0! how 
 .he way 
 
 that leads to life, and how few there are 
 that find it. Hence in the same sermon 
 he declares, that not every one that says 
 to me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the 
 kingdom of heaven: hut he that doth the 
 will of my Father who is in heaven, viz. 
 by a faithful compliance with the law 
 of God and his gospel. Without this, 
 he assures us, that it will avail us no- 
 thmg, even to have done miracles ia 
 his name. Many shall say to me on 
 that day (of judgment,) Lord, have we 
 not prophesied in thy name, and cast out 
 devils in thy name, and done many won* 
 ders in thy name? And then I will de* 
 dare to them, that I never knew you, 
 depart from me, ye workers ot' iniquity. 
 Good God! what will become of us, if 
 those, that have even done miracles in 
 thy name, shall nevertheless be ex- 
 cluded thy eternal kingdom? 
 
 Consider, secondly, liow many ways 
 this frightful truth has been declared 
 or prefiffured in th*^ Olfl 'T'^cfow,^^* 
 
 -L V^ObClXiiUiib. 
 
 Ut a!l the inhabitants of the earth only 
 eight souls, viz. Noah and his family, 
 were preserved in the ark from the 
 
ON THE SMALL NUMBER 
 
 waters of the deluge; of six hundred 
 thousand of the children of Israel, who 
 came out of the land of Egypt under 
 the conduct of Moses, only two persons, 
 Joshua and Caleb, entered Canaan, the 
 land of promise; which figure the apos- 
 tle St. Paul expressly applies to us 
 Christians, 1 Cor. x. To the same ef- 
 fect the prophet Isaias, chap. xxiv. 13, 
 14. likens those that shall escape the 
 divine vengeance, to the small number 
 of olives that is left on the tree after 
 the fruit is gathered, or to the few 
 bunches of grapes that are found on 
 the vines after a well gleaned vintage. 
 Ah! Christians, hear then and obey the 
 voice of your Saviour, who bids you, 
 St. Luke xiii. 23. Contend (that is, 
 strive with all your force) to enter in at 
 the narrow gate, for many, 1 assure you, 
 shall seek to enter, and shall not be able: 
 because the generality of Christians, 
 though they use some endeavours to 
 enter, yet they do not strive with all 
 their force; they are not thoroughly in 
 earnest in their seeking, and therefore 
 shall never find. Hear again with fear 
 
 1 
 
 -^K 
 
OF THE ELECT. 
 
 103 
 
 lundred 
 el, who 
 i under 
 )ersons, 
 lan, the 
 le apos- 
 to us 
 imo ef- 
 dv. 13, 
 ipe the 
 lumber 
 e after 
 le few 
 jnd on 
 intage. 
 •ey the 
 s you, 
 iiat is, 
 r in at 
 re you, 
 eahle: 
 stians, 
 jrs to 
 ith all 
 hly in 
 refore 
 h fear 
 
 1 
 
 and trembling the groat apostle St. Peter, 
 when he tells you, that if the just mil 
 hardly he saved, where will the sinner ajh 
 pear? (First epistle, chap, iv.ver. 18.) O 
 my soul 1 let us then take care, as the same 
 apostle admonishes, 2 Pet. i. hygood works 
 to make our election sure: and if others 
 will go in crowds to hell, let us resolve 
 not to go with them for company sake. 
 Consider, thirdly, that though the 
 scripture had said nothing of the small 
 number of the elect, yet that this truth 
 must appear evident to us, if we com- 
 pare the lives of the generality of 
 Christians with the gospel of Christ 
 and his holy commandments. If thou 
 unit enter into life, says our Lord, Matt. 
 XIX. keep the commandments: there is 
 no other way to life everlasting. And 
 the first and greatest of all the com- 
 mandments, is this, thou Shalt love the 
 Lord thy God with aU thy heart, with 
 all thy soul, with all thy mind, and with 
 all thy strength. Matt. xxii. Now how 
 i8w are there that keep this command- 
 ment? It is easy to say, with the ge- 
 nerality of Christians, that we love 
 
104 
 
 ON THE SMALL NUMBER 
 
 God with our whole heart; but what 
 is the practice of our lives? Do not 
 self-love, vain-glory, sensuality, &c. on 
 every occasion take place? If so, it 
 is in vain to say we love Mm above 
 all things. And yet there is no salva- 
 tion without this love. Think well 
 ON THIS. Besides, the apostle James 
 declares, chap. iv. 4. that whosoever mil 
 he a friend of this world, becomes an 
 enemy of God: and St. John, epist. i. 
 chap. ii. ver. 15. If any one love the 
 world, the love of the Father is not in 
 him: nay, does not Christ himself de- 
 clare, that we cannot serve two masters^ 
 Matt. vi. 24. How then can we think 
 to reconcile the conduct of the greatest 
 part of those who call themselves Chris- 
 tians (whose whole study is to please 
 the world, and conform themselves to 
 its false maxims, corrupt customs, and 
 deluded vanities) with their expectation 
 of the kingdom of heaven, which is not 
 to be otherwise obtained but by using 
 T^x^,v,ii-^v- lO »juiocivu«, renouncing uns 
 sinful world, and by a life of self-denial 
 and mortification? 
 
t what 
 l)o not 
 &c. on 
 ' so, it 
 above 
 » salva- 
 
 WELL 
 
 James 
 er will 
 nes an 
 pist. i. 
 we the 
 not in 
 elf de- 
 asterSf 
 think 
 reatest 
 Chris- 
 please 
 ves to 
 s, and 
 station 
 is not 
 using 
 >' this 
 denial 
 
 OF THE ELECT. 
 
 105 
 
 Consider, fourthly, how great a cor- 
 ruption is generally found even amongst 
 the greatest part of true believing Chris- 
 tians, and from thence form a judgment 
 of their future lot. How few are proof 
 against human respects, and the -perni- 
 cious fear of what the world wiu say! 
 Alas! what numbers sacrifice their eter- 
 nal salvation to this accursed fear, by 
 rather choosing to forfeit the grace of 
 God, than the false honour and esteem 
 of this world! How many of those, 
 whose birth and fortune have advanced 
 them above the level of their fellow 
 mortals, live continually in the state of 
 damnation, by a cursed disposition of 
 never putting up with an affront, and 
 of preferring their worldly honour be- 
 fore their conscience! Unhappy men! 
 who, by conforming themselves now to 
 those false maxims of deluded world- 
 lings, will be trampled under foot by 
 insulting devils for all eternity! How 
 few masters of families are sincerelv 
 solicitous for those under their charge, 
 to see that instructions be not wanting, 
 devotions be not neglected, &c. and that 
 
I 
 
 if' 
 
 
 106 ON THE SMALL NUMBER, ETC. 
 
 nothing scandalous or sinful lurk under 
 the favour of their negligence or con- 
 nivance! and yet the apostle assures us, 
 that if any man neglects the care of 
 his family, he is worse than an infidel, 
 1 rim. V. 8. How few parents effect- 
 ually take care to bring up their chil- 
 dren from their infancy in the fear of 
 Cfod, and to inspire into them an early 
 horror of sin above all evils ! Ah ! what 
 a double damnation will the greatest 
 part bring upon themselves, by sacri- 
 ncing these tender souls to the devil 
 and the world, which they might with 
 so much ease have consecrated to heav- 
 ®? *,./". ^^^^' ^^^ to run over all states 
 ot life m particular, is it not visible 
 that injustice, impurity, pride, detrac- 
 tion, &c. every where reign among 
 Christians; and that the number of 
 those who live up to the gospel is in- 
 deed very small? Good God! have 
 mercy on us, and grant us grace to be 
 of the number of the few, that so we 
 i..^j »^j iiiuiuuuu m me number of the 
 saved. 
 
'C. 
 
 k under 
 or con- 
 ures us, 
 care of 
 infidel, 
 5 effect- 
 iir chil- 
 fear of 
 n early 
 i! what 
 greatest 
 ^ sacri- 
 B devil 
 It with 
 ) heav- 
 states 
 visible 
 detrac- 
 among 
 )er of 
 is in- 
 havo 
 ) to be 
 so we 
 of the 
 
 ON MORTAL SIN. 107 
 
 NINETEENTH DAY. 
 
 ON MORTAL SIN. 
 
 Consider, j^rs^, that there is not upon 
 earth, nor even in hell itself, a more hid- 
 eous, filthy, abominable monster, than 
 mortal sin : a monster, the first-born of 
 the devil ; or to speak more properly, 
 the parent both of the devil and hell. 
 There was not in the whole universe a 
 creature more beautiful, more perfect, 
 or more accomplished with all kinds of 
 gifts, both of nature and grace, than 
 was the bright angel Lucifer, and hia 
 companions,- yet one mortal sin, and that 
 only consented to in thought, changed 
 them in an instant into ugly devils, just 
 objects of horror and abomination to 
 God and man. What effect then think 
 ye will sin have upon man, who is but 
 mere dust and ashes, if it blast so foully 
 the stars of heaven? It was this mon- 
 
 . i~ i 
 
 xjrva, oiii, bliUl \^aOl, KJUl 111 SI UUiUIilS JJUl 
 
 of paradise, and condemned both of 
 them, and us their posterity, to innume- 
 rable miseries, and to both a tempo- 
 
108 
 
 ON MORTAL SIN. 
 
 I 
 
 ral and eternal death. It was sin that 
 drowned the world with the waters of 
 the flood, and daily crowds hell with 
 millions of poor souls, to be the fuel of 
 endless flames. Good God! deliver us 
 from this accursed evil. 
 
 Consider, secondly, that sin is the 
 death of the soul. For as it is the soul 
 of a man which gives life to his body, 
 so consequently that body from which 
 the soul has departed, is dead: in like 
 manner, as it is the grace of God which 
 IS the life of the soul, so that soul is 
 dead which has lost her God and his 
 grace by mortal sin. If, then, a dead 
 corcass, from which the soul has de- 
 paried, be so loathsome and frightful, 
 that few could endure to pass one night 
 m the same bed with it, how is it pos- 
 sible, unhappy sinner, that thou canst 
 endure to carry continually with thee 
 the carcass of a soul dead in mortal 
 sm, which is far more loathsome and 
 hideous! Ah ! beg of God that he would 
 open thy eyes to behold thine own de- 
 plorable state, and detest the hellish 
 monster sin, which thou hast so long 
 
ON MORTAL SIN. 
 
 109 
 
 «f * 
 
 nourished in thy breast, and which is, 
 alas! the true cause of all thy misery! 
 
 Consider, thirdly, what the soul loses 
 by sin, and what she gains in recom- 
 pense of this loss. She forfeits the 
 grace of God, the greatest of all treas- 
 ures; and in the loss thereof, she loses 
 God himself. She loses the fatherly 
 protection and favour of God, she loses 
 the dignity of a child of God, and spouse 
 of Christ; she forfeits her right and title 
 to an eternal kingdom; she is stripped 
 of all the gifts of the Holy Ghost, rob- 
 bed of all the merits of her whole life; 
 becomes a child of hell, and a slave of 
 the devil; spiritually possessed by him, 
 and with him liable to eternal damna- 
 tion: this is all she gains by sin: be- 
 cause the wages of sin is death, Rom. vi. 
 the death of the soul here, and a se- 
 cond and eternal death hereafter. Ah! 
 wretched sinners, open your eyes to 
 see, and bewail your lamentable blind- 
 ness, in thus exchanging God for the 
 
 UCVlI, llUUVUii lUi" iiuli. 
 
 ^ Consider, fourthly, that sin is infi- 
 nitely odious and detestable in the sight 
 
 li. ' . y* ". ' '* **' ''*"* " " *' * '* '** ' " *' ! ii't iM fci -ffnan i LiiiL. . 
 
 >m mmt ^ ; 
 
110 
 
 ON MORTAL SIN. 
 
 of God, as being infinitely opposite to 
 his sovereign goodness. He hates it 
 with an eternal and necessary hatred; 
 and can no more cease to hate it, than 
 he can cease to be just. Hence if the 
 most just man upon earth were so un- 
 happy as to fall into the least mortal 
 sin, he would in that instant become 
 the enemy of God, and were he to die 
 in the guilt thereof, he would certainly 
 feel the weight of God's avenging jus- 
 tice for all eternity. Ah! Christians, 
 never let us be so mad as to venture to 
 wage war with God. Alas! how many 
 dreadful judgments does he daily exer- 
 cise upon sin and sinners? How many, 
 in punishment of sin, are snatched away 
 in the flower of their age, by sudden 
 and unprovided death? How many die 
 in despair?' How many, after having 
 long abused God's graces, are given up 
 to a reprobate sense, and hardness of 
 heart, the worst and most terrible of 
 all his judgments? O! let us tremble 
 at the thoughts of so ereat a nnisfor- 
 tune; let us be convinced, that there 
 can be no misery so great as that which 
 
ON MORTAL SIN. 
 
 Ill 
 
 )osite to 
 
 hates it 
 
 hatred ; 
 
 it, than 
 
 e if the 
 
 e so un- 
 
 : mortal 
 
 become 
 
 3 to die 
 
 ertainly 
 
 ing jus- 
 
 ristians, 
 
 nture to 
 
 IV many 
 ly exer- 
 
 V many, 
 3d away 
 
 sudden 
 lany die 
 
 having 
 ;iven up 
 ness of 
 rible of 
 tremble 
 
 misfbr- 
 t there 
 t which 
 
 we mcur by mortal sin; and that we 
 ire more our own enemies, and do our- 
 selves more mischief, by consenting to 
 but one mortal sin, than all the men 
 upon earth, and all the devils in hell 
 could do us, though they were all to 
 conspire together to do their worst- 
 because all they can do, so long as we 
 refuse consent to sin, cannot hurt the 
 soul; whereas, by consenting to one 
 mortal sm, we bring upon our own 
 
 nMU ^ ^^^^^^"1 and eternal death. 
 Crdbd God! never suffer us to be so 
 blmded as to become thus the murder- 
 ers of our own souls. 
 
 Consider, ffihly, O my soul! and 
 tremble at the multitude of thy trea- 
 sons against God, by which thou hast 
 so often provoked his indignation dur- 
 ing the whole course of thy life. Alas ! 
 is It not too true, that no sooner didst 
 thou come to the use of reason, than 
 thou didst abandon thy king and thy 
 God, under the wings of whose father- 
 
 Iv nroffiPflnn thnij h-yAn*- 1 .•I— % 
 
 J- .. ^,,.^t» iiwuas. iiappiivr passed 
 
 the days of thy innocence? A! how 
 early didst thou fly away from the best 
 
n 
 
 112 ON THE RELAPSING SINNBE. 
 
 Of Fathers, and, like the prodigal son, 
 squandering away thy substance in a 
 strange land, hast sought in vain to 
 satisfy thy appetite with the husks of 
 swine. Recall to thy remembrance, in 
 the bitterness of thy soul, all the years 
 ot thy past life; and see what treasures 
 ot iniquity, in thought, word, and deed, 
 will discover themselves to thy eyes- 
 consider how long thou hast uncon-' 
 cernedly sported on the brink of a 
 dreadful precipice, having no more than 
 a hair's breadth betwixt thy soul thd 
 ije 1, and be confounded at thy past 
 tolly; admire and adore the goodness 
 ot thy God; and now at least resolve 
 to embrace his mercy. 
 
 TWENTIETH DAY. 
 
 ON THE RELAPSING SINNER. 
 
 Consider, frst, that if one mortal 
 sin be so heinous a treason against the 
 sovereign majesty of God, as we have 
 seen m the foregoing chapter; if every 
 such sin be an abomination to our Lord, 
 
 I 
 
 t 
 
SB. 
 
 igal son, 
 ice in a 
 
 vain to 
 msks of 
 •ance, in 
 le years 
 reasures 
 id deed, 
 y eyes: 
 
 uncon- 
 k of a 
 >re than 
 3ul Shd 
 ly past 
 Dodness 
 resolve 
 
 mortal 
 ist the 
 i have 
 every 
 Lord, 
 
 ON THE RELAPSING SINNER. 113 
 
 and the death of that unhappy sinner 
 who is guilty of it, what must we think 
 of the miserable condition of relapsing 
 sinners, that is, of such Christians as 
 are continually relapsing again and 
 again into the same mortal sins, after 
 repeated confessions and solemn prom- 
 ises of amendment? Alas! what can 
 we otherwise think, but that by this 
 method of life they are treasuring up 
 to themselves wrath against the day 
 of wi'ath; which will in all appear- 
 ance, sooner or later, draw down the 
 dreadful vengeance of God upon their 
 guilty heads. Because by every relapse 
 their crime is aggravated, and their lat- 
 ter condition becomes worse than the 
 former. 
 
 Consider, secondly, the ingratitude, 
 the perfidiousness, the contempt of God, 
 of which the relapsing sinner is guilty, 
 as often as, after his reconciliation, he 
 returns like a dog to the vomit. He is 
 guilty of the highest ingratitude, in 
 
 rcuuuig uiiuur iuul mu gracC Oi recon-' 
 
 f «.-.«.-?;=-..-»• ,,_J-« iV-* 4V-..-. 
 
 ciliation, by which he had been a little 
 before raised from the dunghill of sin, 
 
 •# 
 
 8 
 
 MiMHMlii 
 
 »»<.,. I.>.|«T .....Ma»^.-^-.»t- 
 
 I 
 
114 ON THE RELAPSING SINNER. 
 
 i and even drawn out of the jaws of hell • 
 
 and by a distinguishing mercy restored 
 to the friendship of God, to the dignity 
 of a child of God and heir of heaven. 
 [| tie is guilty of a base perfidiousness, in 
 
 breaking the solemn promise he made 
 to God in his confession. He is guilty 
 ot a notorious contempt of the Divine 
 Majesty, in banishing God from his 
 soul after having invited him in, and 
 of mtroducmg Satan in his place: and 
 this, after a full knowledge and expe- 
 rience of both sides. Good God! to 
 put the whole universe in balance with 
 thee, would be a most heinous affront- 
 since heaven, and all the powers there- 
 of, the earth and seas, and all things 
 therein, are less than a grain of sand, 
 ^compared to thee: what then must 
 we think of the unparalleled injury 
 done thee by the relapsing sinner, 
 when, putting thee and Satan in the 
 scales, he gives the preference to the 
 
 _ Consider, thirdly, the dreadful ^nn. 
 
 I if !!m ^^ "^^^"^^ ^^^ relapsing sinne7is 
 daily exposed, from the sword of the 
 
 t ■■ 
 
 • 
 
ON THE RELAPSING SINNER. II5 
 
 divine justice hanging over hi, „.,-r. 
 head, which he his dlily 'voke^ b^: 
 his ingratitude and insolent aiJ?^ 
 
 we are all n^ortal; we iX W 
 he day nor the hour that will be ou^ 
 ast : should we be surprised by dea?h 
 
 av^berV/ '""'•^' ''"' - *^ 
 imve been, we are irrecoverably lost 
 
 if then It be madness at any tirnr.« 
 
 mk eternity by consenting fo mortS 
 
 sin, how much more to provokTtt 
 
 wnere the worm never dies, nor i« tKi 
 fire ever quenched! Unhaly wietS 
 es! they designed as little'^Vdal' 
 themselves as any of us do- but P^ 
 will not be laughed at. ' ""' ^ 
 
 CoNsiDER,>„rtA/y, another evil which 
 
 "pprenend, is the insincerity of HIq noJ» 
 repentance. For in v^lv^ ^ P^* 
 
 pearanceisth'^l^rtUtSt'^^ 
 

 116 ON THE RELAPSING SINNER. 
 
 resolution of amendment have been 
 such as God requires, when after so 
 many confessions he is still the same 
 man? True contrition is a sovereign 
 grief, by which the penitent detests his 
 sm above all other evils, with a full 
 determination and firm resolution of 
 never returning to it any more. Now, 
 how is it likely, that the relapsing sin- 
 ner detests sincerely his sin above all 
 evils, with a firm purpose of amend- 
 ment, when he is so easily prevailed 
 upon by the first texnptation to return 
 to it again. 
 
 Consider, ffthly, the remedies and 
 means, by which we are to be pre- 
 served from this pernicious evil of re- 
 lapsing into mortal sin. The first is, 
 to avoid the dangerous occasions w'. .?h 
 have, or probably may, draw us into 
 the same sins: without this care io iiy 
 the occasions of sin, the strongest reso- 
 lution of amendment will prove inef- 
 U tnal, as we daily see by woful expe- 
 
 pins.\ ^ 
 
 put 
 
 merein, .iccl. lii. No pret 
 of woildly concerns must here be 
 
ON T!IE RELAPSING SINNER. 117 
 
 ,r\T> f '' °,'' ^y°' ^°°n°'- than lose 
 •r.souls Another main preservative 
 "gainst relapse, is to labour by fervent 
 prayer, and diligent frequenting of the 
 sacraments, to suppress the u°nhappy 
 dispos-Uons that insensibly lead thc^,^^ 
 unto: vigorously to resist the first mo- 
 
 .ons to evil,, and to strive with a" po^ 
 sible dil 2cnce to root out that wretched 
 
 hard tu "'^ !" '^^ ■'°"'- Ah! how 
 laid is It to mamtam a castle, where 
 
 the enemy has already surprised th^ 
 
 avenues, and has a strong pa ty witWn 
 
 ready to open the gates to him! The' 
 
 n hT I P^""°"' '° """"sh carefully 
 in his heart a truly penitential spirit^ 
 J-^'ly to renew his sorrow for his sins 
 and to recount in the sight of God "n 
 
 ntuit 'err,''' ""''' "'^' ^» hi; Pa^^ 
 Which he has been drawn out of so 
 
118 
 
 ON DOING PENANCE 
 
 much misery; daily to beg of God with 
 all the fervour of his soul, sooner to 
 take him out of this world, than suffer 
 him any more to die by mor al sin. 
 Good God ! grant that this may be al- 
 ways the disposition of our souls. Amen. 
 Amen, 
 
 TWENTY-FIRST DAY. 
 
 ON DOING PENANCE FOR OUR SINS. 
 
 CoNsiDER,/r5/, those words of Christ, 
 ^uke xiii. 3, 5. Except ye do penance, 
 ye shall all perish Behold here a ge- 
 neral rule, nor does our Lord make 
 any exception. Penance then is neces- 
 sary: first, for those whose conscience 
 accuses them of mortal sin:, alas! such 
 as these must either do penance for 
 their sms, or burn for them for all 
 eternity! Poor sinners! their state is 
 most deplorable! they are playing upon 
 the brmk of hell, and every moment 
 one or other of them is tumbling into 
 that bottomless pit; and is it possible 
 they should be unconcerned under so 
 
 r 
 
 \ 
 
 ^'.it 
 
FOR OUR SINS. 
 
 110 
 
 God with 
 sooner to 
 an suffer 
 )r al sin. 
 ly be al- 
 ls. Amen, 
 
 SINS. 
 
 •f Christ, 
 penance^ 
 n-e a ge- 
 d make 
 is neces- 
 nscience 
 is! such 
 nee for 
 for all 
 state is 
 ng upon 
 moment 
 ng into 
 possible 
 ader so 
 
 f 
 
 y 
 
 great and evident a danger ? Why then 
 do they not lay hold of the grace of 
 penance, the only plank that can save 
 hem from shipwreck; the only means 
 left for the salvation of their souls. 
 b,econdly Penance is necessary for all 
 those who, though their conscience ac- 
 cuses them not at present, yet have, in 
 heir past life, been guilty of such mor- 
 ta offences. Ah! Christians, one mor- 
 tal sm IS enough for us to do penance 
 during all our life. And how can we 
 do less, if we consider what mortal sin 
 is; what It IS to have been the enemies 
 ot God; what it i? .o have been under 
 the sentence of eterivil damnation; and 
 never to know for certain whether this 
 sentence has been cancelled! Is not 
 
 tKn1?^"p' *° oblige us to a peniten- 
 tial hie? Can we otherwise pretend to 
 be secure? Even these (and God best 
 knows how few they are) who are not 
 conscious to themselves of having com- 
 mitted such a sin in their whoiR i;c. 
 time, muse not therefore think theii 
 selves exempt from the obligation of 
 doing penance; as well because of their 
 
120 
 
 ON DOING PENANCE 
 
 I 
 
 own hidden sins, as of those which they 
 may have occasioned in others; for no 
 man knows whether he be worthy of love 
 or haired, Eccl. viii. 9. as also, because 
 a penitential life is the best security 
 against sin, which will insensibly pre- 
 vail over us, if not curbed by self-denial, 
 mortification, and penance. 
 
 Consider, secondly, that as in the me- 
 thod of penance, different rules must be 
 prescribed to different persons: those 
 who have the misfortune to be actually 
 in the state of mortal sin, or, what is 
 still more deplorable, are plunged in 
 the depth of a habit of one or more 
 kinds of mortal i^ns, as soon as their 
 eyes are opened to discover the hel- 
 lish monster which they carry aboul 
 with them, must, like the prodigal child, 
 arise without delay, and return to their 
 Father. A sacrifice of a contrite and 
 humble heart is what God, above all 
 things, requires at their hands; this 
 ought to be the sole foundation of their 
 penance: without this, corporal auste- 
 rities will be of small account. Such 
 sinners ought to allow themselves no 
 
 '^-.. 
 
FOR OXTR SINS. 
 
 121 
 
 ch they 
 for no 
 of love 
 because 
 ecurity 
 >ly pre- 
 -denial, 
 
 the me- 
 nust be 
 : those 
 ctually 
 vhat is 
 ged in 
 r more 
 s their 
 le hel- 
 
 aboul 
 I child, 
 their 
 te and 
 »ve all 
 ;; this 
 f their 
 auste- 
 
 Such 
 ^es no 
 
 
 respite: till they have made their peace 
 with God, their sins ought to be always 
 before their eyes. Their first thoughts 
 in the morning ought to be upon their 
 misfortune, in beiag at so great a dis- 
 tance from God, enslaved by the devil, 
 and liable to be his companions in eter- 
 nal misery: the like ought to be their 
 last thoughts at night'; when, like the 
 penitent David, they ought to wash 
 their beds with their tears. As often 
 as they appear before their God in 
 prayer, it ought to be in the spirit of 
 the humble publican, looking upon them- 
 selves as unworthy to lift up their eyes 
 to heaven, or towards the altar of God ; 
 and with, him, striking their breasts, 
 with a Lord he merciful to me a sinner. 
 Thus will they certainly obtain mercy 
 from him, who is the Father of mercy. 
 Consider, thirdly, that after the sin- 
 ner has done his best endeavours to 
 seek a reconciliation with his offended 
 God, by a sincere repentance and con- 
 fession of his sins, he must not think 
 himself exempt from any further pen- 
 ance, as if he had now no just debt to 
 
122 
 
 disch 
 
 ON DOmo PENANCB 
 
 :arge to the justice of God; nor ob- 
 iigation of making satisfaction for his 
 fr .^y,r»;'«?'ial works, or of bring- 
 
 Jrror°N ^ "" ^?^' ^"•^ dangerous 
 eiro, Nor must he content h!mself 
 
 with barely acquitting himself of tho 
 penancaenjoined by his confessor, which 
 IS, It IS to be feared, seldom sufficient to 
 satisfy the justice of God. Alas ! if sin- 
 ners were truly sensible of the enor- 
 mous injury done to God by mortal sin, 
 as true penitents must be, they would 
 certainly do penance in another man- 
 ner, than -too many do; they would be 
 more in earnest in chastising their sin- 
 tul flesh by penitential works, and thus 
 making a rnore proportionable satisfac- 
 tion lor their past treasons. 
 
 Consider fourthly, that the true 
 manner of doiug penance for our sins, 
 IS better learnt from the holy fathers 
 and doctors of the church, than from 
 the loose maxims of worldlings, or the 
 _,,.^.^ ^t ^^^ inany penitents in this 
 degenerate age. Let us give ear then 
 to those lights of the church, and fol- 
 
 
FOB OUR SINS. 
 
 123 
 
 nor ob- 
 for his 
 * bring- 
 enance; 
 igerous 
 limself 
 of tho 
 , which 
 ;ient to 
 II sm- 
 5 enor- 
 tal sin, 
 would 
 ' man- 
 M be 
 ir sin- 
 d thus 
 tisfac- 
 
 true 
 r sins, 
 ithers 
 
 from 
 r the 
 I this 
 
 then 
 i fol- 
 
 low their direction on this important 
 subject. " God himself has taught us," 
 says St. Cyprian, (L. de Lapsis) "in 
 what manner we are to crave mercy 
 of him. He himself says. Return to 
 me with your whole heart, in fasting, and 
 weeping, and mourning, Joel ii. Let us 
 then return to the Lord with our whole 
 heart; let us appease his wrath by fast- 
 ing, weeping, and mourning, as he ad- 
 monishes us. — Let the greatness of our 
 grief equal the heinousness of our sins. 
 — We must pray earnestly, we must 
 pass the day in mourning, and the night 
 in watching and weeping, spending all 
 our time in penitential tears. Our 
 lodging should be on the floor strewed 
 with ashes; our covering haircloth, &c. 
 After having cast off the garment of 
 Christ, we should not now seek any 
 (worldly) cloathing. — We must employ 
 ourselves now i:i good works, by which 
 our sins may be purged away. We 
 must give frequent alms,#by which our 
 souls may be delivered from death." 
 >rian. With whom 
 
 Cyp] 
 
 ^gJ 
 
 St. Pacian; in his exhortation to pea- 
 
124 ON DOING PENANCE, 
 
 ance:«Ifanyone call you to a bath, 
 you must renounce all such delighls. 
 If any one invite you to a banquet, you 
 must say, such invitations are for those 
 that have not had the misfortune to lose 
 their God: but I have sinned against 
 he Lord, and am in danger of nlrish- 
 jng eternally. What have I to dl, with 
 ftasts, that have offended my God? 
 you must make your coprt to the poorj 
 you must beg the prayers of widows 
 you must cast yourself at the feet of 
 the priests; you must implore the inter- 
 cession of the church; you must try all 
 means, which may prevent your per- 
 ishmg everlastingly." And St. Am- 
 brose, in his second -book of penance, 
 chap.x "Can anyone imagine that 
 he IS doing penance, whilst he is in- 
 dulging his ambition in the pursuit of 
 honours, whilst he is swallowing wine, 
 &c. The true penitent must renounce 
 the world; must abridge even the nc- 
 
 ^r'J *™t *'■ '^'^P'" """^t interrupt it 
 
 With hl« ein-ho «v.J _,-i -•. 1 . .^^ 
 
 "o^^'^y ^"" cui u snort with his 
 
 prayers." And e ^ 
 
 Horn. 
 
 -" .c A Csesarius of Aries, 
 
 viii. «As often as we visit the 
 
FOB OUR SINS. 
 
 125 
 
 a bath, 
 elighle. 
 let, you 
 >r those 
 ! to lose 
 against 
 perish- 
 io with 
 God? 
 3 poor; 
 idows; 
 'eet of 
 I inter- 
 try all 
 r per- 
 . Am- 
 lance, 
 3 that 
 is in- 
 uit of 
 wine, 
 ounce 
 le ne- 
 upt it 
 h his 
 i^rles, 
 t the 
 
 sick, or those that are in prison, or 
 reconcile together those that are at 
 variance with each other; as often as 
 we fast on days commanded by the 
 church — give alms to the poor that 
 pass by our door, &c. by these, and 
 such like works, our small sins are 
 daily redeemed. But this alone is not 
 enough for capital crimes; we must add 
 tears, lamentations, and long fasts; and 
 give alms to the utmost of our power." 
 Thus, as the same saint tells us, Horn, 
 i. "By present mortification will be 
 prevented the future sentence of eter- 
 nal death: thus, by humbling the guilty, 
 will the guilt be consumed: and by 
 this voluntary severity, the wrath of 
 a dreadful Judge will be appeased.—* 
 These short penitential labours will pay 
 off those vast debts, which otherwise 
 everlasting burning will never be able 
 to discharge." Christians! let us fol- 
 low in practice these excellent guides. 
 
i 
 
 126 AGAINST DELAY 
 
 TWENTY-SECOND DAY. 
 
 AGAINST DELAY OF REPENTANCE. 
 
 Consider, /r5^, that of all the deceits 
 by which Satan deludes sinners to their 
 eternal ruin, there is none greater or 
 more dangerous than when he per- 
 suades them to put off their repentance 
 and conversion from time to time, till 
 no more time remains for repentance. 
 Alas! thousands, nay millions of poor 
 souls have been thus betrayed into ever- 
 lasting flames, who never designed to 
 damn themselves by dying in sin, any 
 more than we do at present. But, by 
 putting off their conversion, they have, 
 by a just judgment of God, been at last 
 surprised by death, when they least ex- 
 pected it; and by dying as they lived, 
 have been justly sentenced to that se- 
 cond and everlasting death. Unhappy 
 wretches ! who would not believe their 
 
 to watch; and declares in the gospel, 
 that other ^e he shall come at a time 
 when they least expect him. Ah! how 
 
OF KEPENTANCE, ' 127 
 
 dreadful and how common are these 
 unprovided deaths! ^ 
 
 Consider secoridly, the great pre- 
 sumption of sinners, who put off thefr 
 reconchat on with an offended God ,m 
 another t.me, shutting their ears to 
 his voice, by which he calls thm^ at 
 rr''T^ '^fusing him entrance in- 
 
 self thVv '^.^^ ""hdraw him- 
 
 self, they are undone for ever- how 
 
 iTeS 'T r ' ""^ -'"so m'u^ch 
 contempt? Is it not an infinite good- 
 ness a„d inexpressible condescerision 
 n this sovereign Majesty, to call after 
 them, whilst they are running from 
 
 without any interest on his side, to re- 
 turn to him who is their only good 
 
 ouitT"' ''^PPi"«««? What then 
 ought they not to apprehend from his 
 
 li Trf ' 'V^^y e'^""«'«'"y «"d insolent! 
 ly refuse to embrace his mercy? How 
 dare they m-etend to H,,,„„„„ J.,.. " 
 tn nr^rva "„' "~ " ' 'r'*i'"='° "» "lu lime 
 to come, or promise themselves greater 
 graces hereafter than those wWch they 
 now abuse;- Do they not kffow tha^ 
 
,«**" 
 
 \ . 
 
 128 
 
 AGAINST DELAY 
 
 m 
 
 God alone is master of time and gm«>, 
 and that by his just Pigment; those 
 ^ho presume to tempthim m this man 
 ner. generally speaking, die in their 
 sfns? Ahl it is too true, that he who 
 has promised pavdon to ^^e -nn" tha^ 
 is sincerely converted, has neither prc^ 
 mised time nor efficacious grace to those 
 who defer their conversion. 
 
 CoNSiDEK, tldrdly, the great folly ol 
 sinners, who put off their conversion to 
 God til another time, upon pretence of 
 do°ng more easily hereafter: where- 
 Sth reason ""d experience make it 
 evident, that the longer they defer ths 
 work, the more difficulties they meet to 
 rmpass it. And how can U be other- 
 S since by this delay, and by add- 
 ins daily sin to sin, their sinful habits 
 lather suength; the devil's power over 
 fhfm increases,' and God, who is dmly 
 more and more provoked, >s ^7 Jg-^l^ 
 less liberal of his graces, so that they 
 vl4» l.«« freouent and pressing; till 
 . rrengthrby accustoming themselves 
 to resist his grace, they fall mto the 
 wretehed stall of blindness and hard- 
 
id grace, 
 nt, those 
 this man- 
 in their 
 ,t he who 
 inner that 
 ither pro- 
 :e to those 
 
 1 folly of 
 iversion to 
 retence of 
 jr: where- 
 ^ce make it 
 r defer this 
 ey meet to 
 X be other- 
 nd by add- 
 nful habits 
 power over 
 ho is daily 
 
 by degrees 
 o that they 
 ressing; till 
 
 themselves 
 'all into the 
 3 and hard- 
 
 OF REPENTANCE. 
 
 129 
 
 to 
 
 ness of heart, the broad roc 
 impenitence! 
 
 Consider, fourthly, the unparallel. d 
 madness of those who defer their con- 
 version upon the confidence of a death- 
 
 nnnnT"'^^"""' ^^^^g^"^^ tO put a chcat 
 
 upon the justice of God, by indulging 
 themselves in sin all their life-irme; 
 and then making their peace with God 
 when they can sin no longer. Unhap- 
 py wretches! consider that God is not 
 to be mocked: that what a man soweth, 
 the same shall he reap, Gal. vi. 6. The 
 general rule is, that as a man lives, so 
 he dies: a rule so general, that in the 
 whole scripture we have but one exam^ 
 ^f^f/, person who died well after a 
 wicked life, VIZ. the good thief; an ex- 
 ample so singular in all its circum- 
 stances as to give no encouragement to 
 sinners who entertain ^ premeditated 
 design of cheatmg the justice of God 
 by a death-bed conversion. Ah! how 
 
 dreadfiillv dlf^i^nl* - -f u ^ "^^ 
 
 , . ---;.; -'-ixiv^uit ijjuyi, it be ior a 
 
 dying sinner, in whom the habit of sin 
 
 IS by long custom turned into a second 
 
 nature, to attain to a thorough change 
 
 i'ljiiiiiziip*'' 
 
130 
 
 AGAINST DELAY, ETC. 
 
 
 
 of heart, sincere sorrow and detestation 
 of sin, love of God above all things, 
 which he never thought of in his lite- 
 time, and which now become indispensa- 
 bly necessary. Ah! how deceitful are 
 those tears, which are often shed by 
 dying sinners, (as may be seen in the 
 case of King Antiochus,) who, being 
 wholly influenced by the fear of death, 
 prevail not with the just Judge. And 
 if there be so much danger, even when 
 tears are plentifully shed, what must 
 there be, when, as it commonly hap- 
 pens, either the dullness and stupidity 
 caused by the sickness, or the pains 
 ,and agonies of the body and mmd, are 
 so great, as to hinder any serious appli- 
 cation of our thoughts to the greatest 
 of all concerns? For if a head-achebe 
 enough to hinder us from being able to 
 pray with devotion, what an obstacle to 
 prayer must not the agonies of death 
 •be? No wonder then, that the saints 
 
 ana servants ui v^uu mtxi-^^- .^^^ 
 
 count of those death-bed performarices; 
 especially since, as we see by daily 
 experience, that those who made the 
 
 1 
 
! testation 
 I things, 
 his life- 
 dispensa- 
 iitful are 
 shed by 
 m in the 
 10, being 
 of death, 
 ge. And 
 ven when 
 hat must 
 Dnly hap- 
 stupidity 
 the pains 
 mind, are 
 LOUS appU- 
 B greatest 
 ;ad-achebe 
 ng able to 
 obstacle to 
 3 of death 
 the saints 
 
 r. liftlft no.' 
 
 "ormances ; 
 
 by daily 
 
 made the 
 
 ON TIME AND ETERNITY. 131 
 
 greatest show of repentance, when thev 
 were uj danger of death, n^ sooner es^ 
 ^ped that danger, but are still the same 
 
 hZsnJT'^u'^""'- O Christians! 
 le us not then be imposed upon by the 
 false and flattering discoursis of men! 
 who are so free in pronouncing favour- 
 ably of all those, w'ho after a life spl't 
 a^ Z'- """^^^^T show of repentince 
 
 a tie ,fr\.^'' "' rather' tremble 
 at the deplorable case of such souls- 
 
 and remember that the judgments of God 
 are very different from^ those of men 
 
 TWENTY-THIRD DAY. 
 
 ON TIME AND ETERNITY. 
 
 tim^Ts' wv' if'*'' ^°'' P''^°'°"« ^ thing 
 away as if u were of no value. Time 
 
 ^Jt [T ?^. °"''/""'=> so much of our 
 "- „ aosoiuteiy lost. Time is given 
 
 *e 1 ° .'"°'"f "' °f '™«' in which 
 
 We 
 
 may not work for eternity, and 
 
 IL 
 
138 ON TIItE AND ETERNITY. 
 
 Which we may not store "P i™*" 
 and everlasting treasures. As many 
 therefore as we lose of these precious 
 moments, are so many lost eternities. 
 The present is the only time of work- 
 ing: It is the only time we can call our 
 own, and God only knows how long it 
 will last. It is short; it flies away in 
 an instant; and when once it is gone, it 
 cannot be recalled; the very momen in 
 which we are reading this line, is just 
 passing, never, no never more to re- 
 turn. Every hour is posting away, 
 without stopping one moment, till it De 
 swallowed up in the immense gull ol 
 eternity: and as many of these hours 
 or moments as are lost, are lost toi 
 ever; the loss is irreparable, l-earn 
 hence, my soul I to set a just value 
 upon the present time; learn to husband 
 it well, by employing it in good works. 
 Consider, seco7My, Christian soul! 
 what thy thoughts will be. ^^t „the ap- 
 proach of death, ol tne vmue vt t,...,., 
 which thou makest so little account ot 
 at present. What wouldst thou not 
 then give for some of those hours which 
 
 f 
 
ON TIME AND ETERNITY. 
 
 133 
 
 immense 
 As many 
 5 precious 
 eternities. 
 } of work- 
 m call our 
 ow long it 
 3s away in 
 
 is gone, it 
 moment in 
 ine, is just 
 lore to re- 
 Ling away, 
 It, till it be 
 ise gulf of 
 ;hese hours 
 re lost for 
 ble. Learn 
 L just value 
 i to husband 
 good works, 
 istian soul! 
 I, at the ap- 
 
 1..«. r\C 4-iinno 
 
 e account of 
 it thou not 
 hours which 
 
 thou now losest in vanity and sin ? Ah ! 
 the dreadful anguish that will rack the 
 soul of the dying sinner, when seeing 
 himself at the brink of a miserable eter- 
 nity, he shall wish a thousand times, but 
 , m vain, that he could recall one day, or 
 i even one hour of his past time, and had 
 but the same health and strength as he 
 formerly had, to employ it in the love 
 of God, and sincere repentance for his 
 sms. Ah! worldlings, why are you 
 then so blind as not to see, that any one 
 of these hours, which you daily squan- 
 der away, is indeed more valuable than 
 ten thousand worlds. 
 
 Consider, thirdli/, what will be the 
 sentiments of the damned of the value 
 of time, when time shall be no more: 
 how bitterly will they regret during 
 eternity, all those hours, days, months, 
 and years, which were allowed them 
 by the bounty of their 'Creator, during 
 the space of this mortal life; by the due 
 employment of which, thev misht have 
 prevented that misery, to whu^h they 
 are new irrevocably condemned; and 
 might have made themselves eternally 
 
r^v:33g£-~.tESSa^S5 3i(jfc!cg=eri ! a ! a..'.''.' ".' W"!™ 
 
 
 r 1^' 
 
 s < 
 
 . !> 
 1! 
 
 : 
 
 ill I; 
 
 !^ 
 
 134 
 
 ON TIME AND ETERNITY. 
 
 and infinitely happy; but, alas! they 
 would not work whilst the time was, 
 whilst they had the day-light before 
 them: the night, the dismal and eternal 
 night is now come, in which it is too 
 late to work; and during which, they 
 shall eternally condemn their past folly 
 and madness, in neglecting and abusing 
 their precious time. Ahl Christians, 
 let us be wise at their expence. But 
 what do you think will be the senti- 
 ments of the blessed in heaven of this 
 precious time? Truly, if it were pos- 
 sible, and if their happy state could 
 admit of such a thing as grief, there is 
 nothing tho^e blessed souls would re- 
 gret more than the loss of those mo- 
 ments, which in their life-time had not 
 been well husbanded : when they shall 
 clearly see, in the light of God, what 
 an immense increase of glory and hap- 
 piness they might have acquired, by 
 the due employment of those precious 
 moments. 
 
 Co^swER^ fourthly, that as all time is 
 short, and passes quickly away, so all 
 temporal enjoyments, honours, riches, 
 
 ■ 
 
ON TIME AND ETERNITY. 
 
 135 
 
 
 i! they 
 le was, 
 before 
 eternal 
 t is too 
 h, they 
 tst folly 
 abusing 
 L'istians, 
 e. But 
 e senti- 
 L of this 
 ere pos- 
 e could 
 there is 
 auld re- 
 ose mo- 
 had not 
 ey shall 
 3d, what 
 ind hap- 
 ired, by 
 precious 
 
 il time is 
 y, so all 
 , riches, 
 
 ■ 
 
 and pleasures of this world, are all 
 transitory, uncertain, and inconstant. 
 Only eternity, and the goods or evils 
 which it comprises, are truly great, 
 as being without end, without change, 
 without comparison; admitting of no 
 mixture of evil in its goods, nor any 
 alloy of comfort in its evils. O! the 
 vanity of all temporal grandeur, which 
 must soon be buried in the coffin. O! 
 how quickly does the glory of this 
 world pass away? a few short years 
 are more than any one can promise 
 himself: and after that, poor sinner, 
 what will become of thee? Alas! the 
 worms will prey upon thy body, and 
 merciless devils on thy unrepenting 
 soul. Thy worldly friends will forget 
 thee; the very stones, on which thou 
 hast got thy' name engraved, will not 
 long out-live thee. 0! how true is that 
 sentence, Vanity of vanities, and all is 
 vanity: but to love God, and to serve 
 him alone? Tf is thn« nnlv w<i oVioii 
 
 be wise for eternity; all other wisdom 
 is but folly. 
 
ili'BtTn"W-Mm»iiiUMHr~T~ 
 
 136 ON THE PEESENCE OF GOD. 
 
 TWENTY-FOUETH DAY. 
 
 ON THE PRESENCE OF GOD. 
 
 Consider, first, that God is every 
 where present. If I ascend into heav- 
 en, says the Psalmist, Ps. exxx. 8. thou 
 art there; if I descend into hell, thou art 
 there. He fills both heaven and earth : 
 and there is no created thing whatso- 
 ever, in which he is not truly and per- 
 fectly present. In him we live, in him 
 we move; our very being is in him. 
 As the birds, wherever they fly, meet 
 with the air, which encompasses them 
 on all sides; and as the fishes swimming 
 in the ocean, every where meet with 
 the waters; so we, wherever we are, or 
 wherever we go, meet with God; we 
 have him always with us; he is more 
 intimately present to our souls, than 
 our souls are to our bodies. Alas! my 
 poor soul, how little have we thought 
 of this? And yet it is an article of our 
 faith, in which we have been instructed 
 from our very cradle. Let us seriously 
 reflect on this truth for the future : let 
 
 ? 
 
ON THE PRESENCE OF GOD. 137 
 
 {. 
 
 every 
 
 heav- 
 9. thou 
 hou art 
 
 earth: 
 vhatso- 
 [id per- 
 il! him 
 
 1 him. 
 , meet 
 3 them 
 mmirig 
 t with 
 are, or 
 Dd; we 
 3 more 
 3, than 
 IS I my 
 hought 
 of our 
 tructed 
 riously 
 re: let 
 
 us strive to be always with him, who is 
 always with us. 
 
 Consider, secondly, that God being 
 every where, sees us wherever we are; 
 all our actions are done in his sight; 
 our very thoughts, even the most secret 
 motions and dispositions of our hearts, 
 cannot be concealed from his all-seeing 
 eye. In vain does the sinner flatter 
 himself in his crimes, saying, like the 
 libertine mentioned by the wise man, 
 Eccl. xxiii. that darkness encompasses 
 him, and walls cover him, and no one 
 sees him whom he fears. Alas ! the eyes 
 of the Lord are infinitely brighter than 
 the rays of the sun; and no darkness, 
 clouds, walls, or curtains, can screen us 
 from his piercing sight, which pene- 
 trating clearly, sees the very centre of 
 the soul; and no wonder that he shouk 
 clearly see wliat passes in the place 
 where he is always present. 
 
 Consider, thirdly, that God, who is 
 in all places, and in all things, is every 
 where whole and entire, because he is 
 indivisible; he is every where with all 
 his majesty, attributes, and perfections. 
 
138 
 
 ON THE PRESENCE OF GOD. 
 
 We have then within us, O my soul! 
 the eternal, immense, omnipotent, self- 
 existent, infinite Lord and Maker of 
 all things; and we are with this infinite 
 Being, who accompanies us wherever 
 we go. He is in all places by his 
 omnipotence, to which all things are 
 subject; what then have his friends to 
 fear? He is every where with his in- 
 finite justice ; how then can his enemies 
 be secure? He is every where infinite- 
 ly good to his children; his love and 
 kindness to them surpasses that of the 
 most tender mother; his providence 
 watches over them, his wisdom won- 
 derfully disposes of all things for their 
 greater good: 01 what comfort then, 
 must this thought of the presence of 
 God afford his servants, and those that 
 truly fear and love him. 
 
 Consider, fourthly, that God existing 
 in all places, requires of us that we 
 should every where take notice of his 
 presence. Can there be any object more 
 vrxjiiiiy .ji uuuuLiuiii ciiiu shaii wc UieH 
 be so unfortunately blind, as to amuse 
 ourselves with every trifle that falls in 
 
ny soul! 
 ent, self- 
 aker of 
 3 infinite 
 wherever 
 by his 
 ingo are 
 riends to 
 1 his in- 
 enemies 
 infinite- 
 ove and 
 t of the 
 Dvidence 
 •m won- 
 br their 
 rt then, 
 ence of 
 ose that 
 
 existing 
 that we 
 e of his 
 ict more 
 we tiieu 
 ) amuse 
 falls in 
 
 f 
 
 on THE PRESENCE OF GOD. 139 
 
 our way, and let God, the sovereign 
 beauty and sovereign good, pass unre- 
 garded? Ah! let us never regret being 
 alone, since we have always in our 
 company that infinite Being, the sight 
 and enjoyment of whom is the eternal 
 felicity of angels. What if we see him 
 not with our corporal eyes, is he the 
 less present? But have we not more 
 noble eyes, viz. the eyes of the under- 
 standing, which, assisted by divine faith, 
 ought to contemplate God, always pre- 
 sent in the very midst of us? Ah! the 
 sweetest repose is to be found in him; 
 all other recreations are vain, when 
 compared to this. 
 
 Consider, ffthJy, that God being 
 every where present, it is requisite 
 that we should comport ourselves, in- 
 teriorly and exteriorly, in such a man- 
 ner as becomes those who are standing 
 in his sight. The presence of a per- 
 son, for whom we have a respect, is 
 sufficient to restrain us from doing any 
 thing trivial or indecent: and shall not 
 the presence of the infinite majesty of 
 God, in comparison with whom the ' 
 
140 
 
 ON THE PRESENCE 0^ GOD. 
 
 greatest monarchs of the earth are less 
 than nothing, restram us ir. that exterior 
 modesty and interior reverence which 
 are so justly his due? Ought we not 
 even to annihilate ourselves in the sight 
 of this immense Divinity? But, O my 
 God! how far are we from these dis- 
 positions, as often as we dare to sin in 
 thy almighty presence, and fly in the 
 face of thy sovereign Majesty? Alas! 
 my poor soul, how much should we be 
 ashamed to have our sins known to 
 such persons, whose esteem we covet? 
 we would be ready even to die with 
 confusion, to have them known to the 
 whole world. We would be very un- 
 willing to have our vain and ridiculous 
 amusements, though otherwise inno- 
 cent, laid open to the eyes of our neigh 
 hours: and why will we not consider 
 the all-seeing eye of our great God, 
 which is always fixed upon us, and 
 clearly discerns all that passes in the 
 most secret closet of our heart? Why 
 
 T- .ix iTv iiwt iv>iit;v/.L LiiaL uuruVii HiOUgntS 
 
 being known to God, is indeed a greater 
 shame, a greater loss of our true hon- 
 
 
ON THE PRESENCE OF GOD. 
 
 Ul 
 
 our, than if they were published by 
 sound of trumpet over the universe. 
 
 Consider, sixthly^ that God being 
 every where present, every where re- 
 quires our love: he is every where 
 infinitely amiable, beautiful, good, per- 
 fect, and at all times and in every 
 place, infinitely good to us. Why then 
 do we not love him, who is all love? 
 Deus charitas est, says St. John, chap, 
 iv. God is love. We have this loving 
 and most lovely God continually with 
 us and within us; why do we not run 
 to his embraces? He is a fire that ever 
 burns in the very centre of our souls; 
 how then comes it to pass that we feel 
 so little of its flames? It is because we 
 do not approach it. It is because we 
 will not restrain our thoughts at home, 
 attentive to that great guest who resides 
 within us, but suffer tbem continually to 
 wander abroad upon vain created amuse- 
 ments. O! convertere, anima mea, in 
 reouiem tuam. Ps. cxliv. Turn awav. 
 my soul, from all these worldly toys, 
 which keep thee at a distance from thy 
 God; return then to him who is thy 
 
142 ON THE PASSION OF CHRIST. 
 
 true and only happiness, for in him 
 only thou wilt find everlasting repose. 
 
 TWENTY-FIFTH DAY. 
 
 ON THE PASSION OF CHRIST: AND FIRST 
 ON OUR SAVIOUR IN THE GARDEN OF 
 GETHSEMANI. 
 
 Consider, first, how the Son of God, 
 (who came down from heaven, and 
 clothed himself with our humanity, in 
 order to be our priest and our victim 
 and to offer himself a bleeding sacrifice 
 lor our sms to his eternal Father,) was 
 pleased to begin his passion by a bloodv 
 sweat and agony in the garden o{ Geth- 
 semani, the night before his death. 
 Here having left the rest of his disci- 
 pies at some distance, and taking with 
 him Peter, James, and John, who be- 
 fore had been witnesses of his glorious 
 transfiguration on mount Thabor, he 
 
 begms to disclose to them that mortal 
 anormsh fom. ^-^a -,-4 ... 
 
 - -_,_ ,^,,,^ „,,^ suduess Winch on- 
 pressed his heart. My soul, saith he, 
 IS sad even unto death, Matt. xxvi. 
 
ON THE PASSION OF CHRIST. 143 
 
 That is, with a sadness which even 
 now would strike me dead, if I did not 
 preserve myself, in order to suffer still 
 more for you. Sweet Jesus, what can 
 be the meaning of this? Didst thou 
 not lately cry out, speaking of thy 
 passion, and the desire that thou hadst 
 of suffering for us: 1 have a baptism 
 loherewith I am to he baptized, and how 
 lam straitened till it be accomplished, 
 Luke xii. Whence then comes this 
 present sadness? Was it not thou, 
 who hast given such strength and cour- 
 Tige to thy martyrs, as not even to 
 shrink under the worst of torments? 
 and art thou thyself afraid? But, O 
 dear Lord, I plainly understand that it 
 was by thy own choice, that thou hast 
 condescended to suffer thyself to be 
 seized with this mortal anguish. It 
 was for my instruction, and that thou 
 mightest suffer so much the more for 
 my sake. I adore thee under this 
 weakness /'If T mnv Ho nllr^worl t^. /^oii 
 
 it so) no less than on thy throne of 
 glory; because it is here that I better 
 discover thy infinite love for me. 
 
■ I 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 u 
 
 144 ON THE i'ASSION OF CHRIST. 
 
 Consider, secondly, how our dear 
 baviour, under this anguish and sad- 
 ness, betakes himself to prayer, as the 
 only refuge under afflictions,-~the only 
 shield in the day of battle. But take 
 notice my soul, with what reverence he 
 prays, prostrate on the ground, to his 
 eternal Father,- and with what fervour; 
 with a loud cry and tears, says the 
 Apostle, Heh. v. 7. Learn then to im- 
 itate him. In this prayer he conde- 
 scended so far as to allow his inferior 
 part to petition, that the cup of his bit- 
 ter passion might be removed from 
 nim: but then he immediately added- 
 yet not my will, but thine he ^ done- to' 
 teach us, under all trials and crosses, a 
 perfect submissfon and resignation to 
 the divine will. 
 
 ^ Consider, thirdly, how our Saviour 
 interrupted twice his prayer to come 
 and visit his disciples, but found them 
 both times asleep. Ah! my sbul, and 
 IS it^nm thy case also to sleep, that is, 
 to iauuige thyself in a slothful sensual 
 way of living? whereas the whole life 
 01 thy Saviour was spent in labouring 
 
[ST. 
 
 our dear 
 and sad- 
 der, as the 
 —the only 
 But take 
 erence he 
 nd, to his 
 t fervour; 
 says the 
 ;n to im- 
 le conde- 
 5 inferior 
 f his bit- 
 ted from 
 y added; 
 done: to 
 crosses, a 
 lation to 
 
 Saviour 
 to come 
 nd them 
 oul, and 
 , that is, 
 
 sensual 
 bole life 
 bouring 
 
 • ON THE PASSION OF CHRIST. 145 
 
 for thy salvation; and all he then suf- 
 tered, he suffered for thee. Ah! pity 
 now at least his comfortless condition, 
 whilst on the one hand, his Father 
 seems deaf to his prayers; and on the 
 other, his disciples are too drowsy to 
 attord him the least attention. In this 
 desolate state, an angel from heaven 
 appears to comfort Him, who is the joy 
 ot angels. O! what humi^'^v* But 
 what kind of comfort, .,k you, did 
 this angel bring? N<> other but the 
 representing to him the will of his 
 eternal Father, and humbly entreating 
 nim, in the name oi heaven and earth 
 not to decline the imparting to poor 
 sinners, by his infinite love, the plenti- 
 lul redemption, for which he came into 
 the world, and to undergo the ignomi- 
 nies and torments of one short day's 
 continuance, with the prospect of pro- 
 moting the salvation of mankind, and 
 that eternal glory and honour which 
 the Godhead should 
 
 sufferings. Let the like 
 
 
 nLs 
 
 of the will of God, his 
 
 consideration 
 greater honour 
 
 and glory, and the good of thy 
 
 10 
 
 own 
 
146 ON THE PASSION OF CHRIST. 
 
 soul, comfort thee also under all thy 
 anguish and crosses. There can be no 
 comfort more solid. ' 
 
 ConisiDBK, fourthly, the mortal agony 
 which our Saviour suffered in his soul 
 this night during his prayer. We may 
 judge of his pains and anguish by the 
 wonderful effect they produced in his 
 body, by casting him into so prodigious 
 a sweat of blood, as to imbue the very 
 ground on which he lay prostrate. — 
 Sweet Jesus! who ever heard of such 
 an agony? But what thinkest thou,; 
 my soul ! was the true cause of all this 
 anguish, and bitter agony of thy Sa- 
 viour? Chiefly these: First, A clear 
 view and lively representation of all 
 that he was to suffer during the wholo 
 course of his passion: so that all the 
 ignominies and torments, that he was 
 afterwards successively to undergo, were 
 now all at once presented before the 
 eyes of his soul, with all their respec- 
 tive aggravations; by which means he 
 suffered his whole bitter passion twice 
 over, once by the hands of his enemies, 
 and at another time by his own most 
 
ON THE PASSION OF CHRIST. 147 
 
 clear and lively imagination of all that 
 
 these'' dr'"'"; ^"' ^'^y' '^'^ J-"'' 
 these additional agonies? 'Tis only 
 
 thy love can answer. Another cause 
 
 that contributed to our Saviour's an 
 
 gmsh was a distinct view of he sLs 
 of the whole world, from the first to 
 
 he last; of the horrid crimes and atom- 
 inations of mankind, all now laid To 
 h.s charge, to be cancelled by the last 
 drop of his blood. Ah ! how hideous - 
 how detestable were all these hellish 
 monsters, in the eyes of our SavjS' 
 
 eno'^Jrbv .' " ^"1 "°''°» °'- S 
 tZT^' u^ •'^"'"g *'«'»ys before him 
 a clear sight of the infinite majesty bv 
 them offended! OLord! how St a 
 share has not my sins had in th s tra^ 
 gical scene! how much, alas! did they 
 contribute to thy pains and grief? I 
 third cause of our Saviour's afoiy, wal 
 the foreknowledge he had of^he^ Hub 
 
 s"ffeSr'^?,in'^_r-^ °'-"'' •"^ 
 
 and haa-„ess";fT;;;^brwh?rtrev 
 would pervert this antidofe into a mor^ 
 tal poison, and tread his blood uX 
 
=liir^ 
 
 148 
 
 ON OUR SAVIOUR IN THE 
 
 their feet; as well as the eternal loss of 
 so many millions of souls, for which he 
 was to die. All these sad and melan- 
 choly thoughts assailing at once the soul 
 of our Redeemer, cast him into a mor- 
 tal agony, and forced from him those 
 streams of blood. Ah I Christians, pity 
 now the anguish of your Saviour, and 
 resolve never more to have any hand 
 in afflicting his tender soul by sin. 
 
 TWENTY-SIXTH DAY. 
 
 ON OUR SAVIOUR IN THE COURT OF 
 CAIPHAS. 
 
 Consider, /r5<, how our Saviour aris- 
 ing from his prayer, after having con- 
 quered all his fears, returns to his dis- 
 ciples, bidding them now sleep on and 
 take their rest, for that his hour was 
 come, and that the traitor was just at 
 hand. But thou, dear Lord! when wilt 
 thou enjoy rest or place? Not till the 
 last sleep" of death on the hard bed of 
 the cross. Contemplate, Christians! the 
 courage and readiness which our Savi- 
 
 , 
 
loss of 
 hich he 
 
 melan- 
 the soul 
 
 a mor- 
 n those 
 ns, pity 
 >ur, and 
 ly hand 
 in. 
 
 IT OP 
 
 )ur aris- 
 ing con- 
 his dis- 
 on and 
 3ur was 
 I just at 
 hen wilt 
 ; till the 
 I bed of 
 [ans! the 
 ►ur Savi- 
 
 COURT OF CAIPHAS. I49 
 
 words F, . r ^^^ ^°"'^ "^ two 
 
 ^iinas, the father-in-law of the hiVh 
 
 servant who struck him on the fZ 
 Prom thence they led him to he coun 
 of Catphas, where the chief priestS 
 elders were assemhio,! i P"®®'^ and 
 th;« „.„. __.-^^®'"°'«9' 'ongmg to see 
 
,p«" 
 
 150 
 
 ON OUR SAVIOUR IN THE 
 
 friends: contemplate this meek Lamb, 
 loaded wi.h their scoffs and insults, ia 
 the midst of ravenous wolves: but carry 
 the eyes of thy understanding still far- 
 ther: view the interior of his soul, and 
 see the joy and satisfaction he takes in 
 complying with the will of his eter- 
 nal F?Lther, and suffering for thee: and 
 learn from thence to have the like dis- 
 positions in all thy sufferings. 
 
 Consider, secondly, how our Lord 
 was no sooner brought to the court of 
 Caiphas the high-priest, where the 
 great council of the Sanhedrim were 
 assembled, but immediately after a 
 scornful welcome they proceed to his 
 trial, and call in the false witnesses, 
 who were to depose against him. But 
 behold the providence of God, see the 
 force of truth, and the wonderful inno- 
 cence of this Lamb of God; notwith- 
 standing the malice of this impious 
 court and their witnesses, men of 
 neither honour nor conscicnee, yet a^* 
 that they could allege against him was 
 either insignificant, or they could not 
 agree in their story, which made their 
 
COURT OF CAIPHA3. 
 
 151 
 
 t Lamb, 
 isults, ia 
 rt carry 
 still far- 
 joul, and 
 takes in 
 [lis eter- 
 lee: and 
 like dis- 
 
 ur Lord 
 court of 
 lere the 
 im were 
 
 after a 
 3d to his 
 vitnesses, 
 lim. But 
 I, see the 
 I'ful inno- 
 
 notwith- 
 i impious 
 
 men of 
 
 him was 
 could not 
 lade their 
 
 testimonies of no weight. But whilst 
 thou adorest this providence, behold 
 and admire the meekness and patience 
 of thy Saviour, who remained silent 
 under all the provocations given by 
 these false witnesses; giving thereby a 
 most convincing proof of his being 
 more than man, who could thus calmly 
 hold his peace, whilst his reputation 
 and life were both attacked by pal- 
 pable calumnies. The malice of our Sa- 
 viour's enemies being thus confounded, 
 the high-priest arises, and adjures him 
 by the living God, to tell him whether 
 he was the Christ, the Son of God ! Ia 
 reverence to which adorable name, our 
 Lord made a solemn confession and 
 profession of the truth, teaching, by 
 his example, all his followers, when 
 called to the like trial, never to be 
 ashamed of him or, his faith. Upon 
 this, Caiphas rends his garments, cry- 
 ing out, Blasphemy! and they all pro- 
 nounce him lanrtJtii nf florti'k D.,*. *i 
 
 my soul, let us, on the contrary, cry 
 out with the angels, and all the elect 
 of God, Rev. v. 12. The Lamb that wcs 
 
152 
 
 ON OUR "SAVIOUR IN THE 
 
 slain, is worthy to receive power, and 
 divinity, and wisdom, and strength, and 
 honour, and glory, and benediction, from 
 all creatures for ever. 
 
 Consider, thirdly, how that unjust 
 sentence against our Redeemer was no 
 sooner pronounced by the great coun- 
 cil) but immediately they all, with un- 
 heard of barbarity, fell upon him, more 
 like furies of hell than men, discharg- 
 ing upon him all kinds of injuries^ 
 blows, affronts, and blasphemy. See, 
 my soul! how these hell-hounds spit in 
 the face of thy Saviour, and disgorge 
 their filthy phlegm on that sacred fore- 
 head where beauty and majesty sit: be- 
 hold how they buffet, kick, and strike 
 him with merciless rage, whilst he, with 
 his hands tied behind him, is not able to 
 ward off one blow, nor has any friend 
 present to wipe his face, or afford him 
 any other help. See, how they muffle 
 up his face with a filthy rag, and then 
 in derision (as if he were a mock pro- 
 phet or impostor) at every blow bid 
 him prophesy who it was that struck 
 ihim: besides many other affronts, which 
 
COURT OF CAIPHAS. 
 
 153 
 
 wer, and 
 ngth, and 
 ion, from 
 
 it unjust 
 jr was no 
 ?at coun- 
 with un- 
 im, more 
 discharg- 
 
 injuriesj 
 ly. See, 
 ds spit in 
 
 disgorge 
 ;red fore- 
 y sit: be- 
 nd strike 
 ; he, with 
 Dt able to 
 ly friend 
 ford him 
 3y muffle 
 and then 
 
 lock nro- 
 _ , _ ^ - - 
 
 blow bid 
 
 it struck 
 
 ts, which 
 
 he endured with an invincible patience 
 and fortitude. 
 
 Consider, fourthly, that of all our 
 Saviour's sufferings in the court of 
 Uaiphas, none touched him so much to 
 the quick as the fall of Peter, the chief 
 ot his apostles, who bad received the 
 most signal favours from him; who, 
 alter having boasted that very night 
 that though all the rest of his disciples 
 should abandon their Master, he would 
 never forsake him, and that he would 
 sooner die with him, than deny him: 
 yet, behold the weakness and incon- 
 stancy of human nature; at the voice 
 
 u- ^^f ^ '^^^"^^ ^^ immediately denies 
 his Master, repeats his denial a second, 
 a third time, and even asserts with oaths 
 and imprecations, that he never knew 
 the man. Sweet Jesus! what is man? 
 Alas! O Lord, look to me, and support 
 me by thy grace, or I also shall deny 
 thee. The causes of Peter's fall were, 
 .. ..V.WV.I, piiuc uiiu presumption 
 upon his own strength. Secondly, a 
 neglect of the admonition of our Sa 
 viour, in Jeepin^, when he admonished 
 
,mt 
 
 mm 
 
 154 
 
 ON OUE SAVIOUR, ETC. 
 
 him to watch and pray. Thirdly^ in 
 exposing himself to the danger, by run- 
 ning into ill company. Beware that 
 the like causes do not produce the like 
 effects in thee, by leading thee also to 
 deny, and even crucify the Lord by sin. 
 Learn to imitate the speedy repentance 
 of this apostle, who, immediately after 
 his fall, going out, wept bitterly; a 
 practice which, it is said, he ever after 
 retained, as often as he heard the cock 
 crow. 
 
 Consider, ^i5/tZ^, how the high-priest 
 and scribes, after having pronounced 
 sentence of death against our Saviour, 
 retired to take their rest, leaving him 
 in hands that were not likely to suffer 
 him to take any rest. 01 what a night 
 did our Lord pass in the midst of such- 
 a rabble, who, to gratify their own 
 cruelty, and the malice of their mas- 
 ters, repeated over and over again, that 
 scene of inhumanity, which they had 
 begun whilst their masters were pre- 
 sent, loading him with all kinds of 
 outrages and blasphemies. So that we 
 may boldly afHrm, that one half of 
 
Mrdly, in 
 •, by run- 
 are that 
 
 the like 
 e also to 
 'd by sin. 
 jpentance 
 ely after 
 tterly; a 
 ver after 
 
 the cock 
 
 igh-priest 
 onounced 
 
 Saviour, 
 vmg him 
 
 to suffer 
 it a night 
 t of such- 
 leir own 
 leir mas- 
 gain, that 
 they had 
 ^ere pre- 
 kinds of 
 that we 
 
 half of 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR IS BROUGHT, ETC. 155 
 
 what our Saviour suffered on that night, 
 will not be known till the day of judg- 
 ment. All which insolencies he not 
 only bears in silence, but even whilst 
 they are abusing him, he prays for 
 them, excusing them to his Father, and 
 offering up all his sufferings in atone- 
 ment for their sins. Sweet Jesus! give 
 us the grace to imitate thee. 
 
 TWENTY-SEVENTH DAY. 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR IS BROUGHT BEFORE PILATE 
 AND HEROD. 
 
 Consider, Jirst^ how early in the 
 morning, notwithstanding their late sit- 
 ting up, the high-priest, and his fellows 
 in iniquity, convene a more numerous 
 assembly of the Sanhedrim, and there 
 again put the same question to our Sa- 
 viour, Whether he was the Son of God? 
 and receiving the same answer, con- 
 firm their former sentence. Yet- as 
 they did not think it safe for them- 
 selves, being subjects of the Roman 
 empire, to put this sentence in execu- 
 
156 
 
 OUR SAVIOUE IS BKOUGHT 
 
 tion, without the consent of Pontius Pi- 
 late the governor, they determined to 
 carry him to Pilate, and by his author- 
 ity to have him crucified: a kind of ex- 
 ecution which their malice made choice 
 of, because it was at the same time, 
 most ignominious, as being only for 
 vile slaves and notorious criminals; and 
 most cruel, as being a long and linger- 
 ing death, under the sharpest and most 
 sensible torments. Come now, O Chris- 
 tian soul! and contemplate thy Saviour, 
 whilst he is hurried along the streets 
 with his hands bound, from the house 
 of the high-priest to the court of Pilate, 
 attended by the whole council and their 
 wicked ministers, publishing aloud as 
 they go on, that now all his impostures 
 were laid open, his hypocrisy discover- 
 ed, and himself convicted of blasphemy. 
 Behold the giddy mob, who a little be- 
 fore reverenced him as a prophet, now 
 all on a sudden join with his enemies, 
 following him with opprobrious shouts 
 and insults as he passes along the high- 
 way, and discharging a thousand kind 
 of injuries and affronts upon him. 
 
'ontius Pi- 
 rmined to 
 lis author- 
 ind of ex- 
 ade choice 
 ime time, 
 
 only for 
 linals; and 
 nd linger- 
 ; and most 
 r, O Chris- 
 7 Saviour, 
 he streets 
 the house 
 
 of Pilate, 
 and their 
 
 aloud as 
 n postures 
 
 discover- 
 asphemy. 
 
 little be- 
 3het, now 
 
 enemies, 
 us shouts 
 the high- 
 and kind 
 im. 
 
 BEFORE PILATE AND HEROD. 157 
 
 Consider, secondly, and view the 
 Judge of the living and the dead, stand- 
 ing with his hands bound as a criminal 
 at the bar of a petty governor; and 
 behold the process. The chief priests 
 and princes of the people having deliv- 
 ered him up, and Pilate demanding 
 what particulars they had to allege 
 against him, they made no scruple of 
 inventing fresh calumnies, viz. that ho 
 was a factious and seditious man, a trai- 
 tor and rebel to the government, who 
 had forbid tribute to be paid to Ca3sar, 
 and set himself up for king of the Jews. 
 Once more take notice of the invincible 
 patience of thy Saviour, in hearing 
 with silence such notorious falsities as 
 these laid to his charge; in so much 
 that the governor was astonished that 
 a man could be silent under such accu- 
 sations, which aimed at nothing less 
 than procuring his condemnation to 
 the worst of deaths. However, as he 
 plainly saw through all the disguise of 
 
 scribes, 
 
 -priest 
 
 preted this silence in favour of ..u* 
 Saviour, only hesitating a little at the 
 
 mter- 
 
 our 
 
158 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR IS BROUGHT 
 
 word king, and having received full 
 satisfaction upon that head, by being 
 given to understand that the kir';dom 
 of our Saviour was not of this world, 
 and therefore not dangerous to Caesar's 
 government, he determined to set him 
 at liberty. Admire the force of inno- 
 cence, which could even move a hea- 
 then, and one of the worst of men, 
 such as Pilate was, and assure thyself, 
 that, generally speaking, patience and 
 silence are a thousand times better 
 proofs of thy innocence, than returning 
 injury for injury, and making an op- 
 probrious and clamorous defence. 
 
 Consider, thirdly, how Pilate being 
 convinced of our Saviour's innocence, 
 and desirous of setting him at liberty, 
 met with an obstinate resistance from 
 the malicious princes and deluded peo- 
 ple; and therefore understanding that 
 our Saviour, as being an inhabitant of 
 Galilee, belonged to the jurisdiction of 
 Herod, the tetrarch thereof, he from 
 thence took occasion to rid himself of 
 their importunity, by sending him to 
 Herod. Accompany thy Lord, O my 
 
;cived full 
 by being 
 3 kinndom 
 this world, 
 to Caesar's 
 to set him 
 :e of inno- 
 )ve a hca- 
 t of men, 
 re thyself, 
 tience and 
 nes better 
 I returning 
 ing an op- 
 mce. 
 
 ilate being 
 innocence, 
 at liberty, 
 tance from 
 sluded peo- 
 nding that 
 labitant of 
 sdiction of 
 r, he from 
 himself of 
 tig him to 
 Drd, O my 
 
 BEFORE PILATE AND IIEROD. 159 
 
 soul! in this new stage, and tak^ notice 
 of his incomparable meckn.ss, whilst 
 he passes through the stree.s, linec on 
 each side with an inlUlting i - !.Ui^..de, 
 and echoing with their reprouohes and 
 clamours. Herod rejoiced at his coming, 
 in hopes to see some miracle, and there- 
 fore put a thousand questions to him: 
 whilst the princes of the Jews, -with 
 unwearied malice, were repeating all 
 their false accusations against him; but 
 our Lord was still silent, nor would he 
 satisfy the curiosity of Herod, nor do 
 any thing by which he might incline 
 this prince to free him from that death 
 which he so ardently desired, as be- 
 ing by the decrees of Jieaven, tlie only 
 means of our redemption. Blessed by 
 all creatures be his goodness for ever! 
 Consider, fourthly., how Herod, pro- 
 voked by our SaviourVnot consenting 
 to gratify his inclinations of seeing a 
 miracle, sought to revenge himself by 
 treating him with mockery and scorn, 
 exposing him to the scoffs of his guards^ 
 by ordering him to be clothed in con- 
 tempt with a white garment as with a 
 
OUR SAVIOUR IS BROUGHT 
 
 fool's coat, or perhaps as a mock king: 
 
 and in inis dress sent him back agam 
 to Pilate, attended in the same manner 
 as he came, wilfl an insulting mob, 
 headed by the scribes and pharisees. 
 Stand amazed, my soul I to see the Wis- 
 dom of the eternal Father treated thus 
 as a fool ; and learn from hence, not to 
 repine, or be solicitous about the judg- 
 ment of the world. 
 
 Consider, ffthly, how Pilate, seeing 
 our Saviour brought back again to his 
 tribunal, contrived another way to bring 
 him off, so as to give at the same time 
 as little offence as might be to the high- 
 priest and the chief of the Jews. It 
 was the custom of that nation, on the 
 day of their paschal solemnity, (which 
 was celebrated that very day in mem- 
 ory of their delivery from the Egyp- 
 tian bondage,) to set at liberty one crim- 
 inal for whom the people should peti- 
 tion: wherefore Pilate, taking advantage 
 of this opportunity, proposed to their 
 choice our Saviour on one hand, ana 
 Bt*rabbas, a rotorious malefactor, rob- 
 ber, and murderer, on the other,- not 
 
ck king; 
 ck again 
 i manner 
 ng mobj 
 >harisees. 
 the Wis- 
 ated thus 
 ce, not to 
 the judg- 
 
 te, seeing 
 ain to his 
 y to bring 
 ;ame time 
 the high- 
 Jews. It 
 )n, on the 
 Ly, (which 
 ( in mem- 
 the Egyp- 
 one crim- 
 lould peti- 
 advantage 
 d to their 
 hand, and 
 actor, rob- 
 other; not 
 
 BEFORE PILATE AND HEROD. 161 
 
 doubting but they would rather choose 
 to have the innocent Lamb of God re- 
 leased, than that Barabbas, the worst 
 of criminals, should escape due punish- 
 ment. Ah! Pilate, what an outrageous 
 affront dost thou here put upon the Son 
 of God, whilst thou pretendest to favour 
 him ? What ! must the Lord of life and 
 immortality, the King of Heaven, stand 
 m competition with the vilest of men, 
 with the most notorious criminal that 
 could be pitched upon.? Must it be put 
 to the votes of the mob, which of the 
 two IS the better man, and which is the 
 more worthy of death? 01 the unpar- 
 alleled injury! O! the incomparable 
 humility of my Saviour! O! King of 
 glory, how low hast thou stooped, to 
 raise me up from the dunghill! 
 
 Consider, sixthly, if it was an into- 
 lerable affront to compare our Saviour 
 with Barabbas, what idea must we 
 frame, or what name must we give to 
 that blind people's choice, when thev 
 preferred Barabbas to Christ, and di 
 sired that the latter might be crucified, 
 and the former acquitted. Behold, O' 
 11 ' 
 
162 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR IS SCOURGED 
 
 h 
 
 1=^ 
 
 my soul, in this wonderful humiliation 
 of thy Lord, how deep and dangerous 
 was the wound of pride, which could 
 not be cured but by so great humility: 
 O! see if thine be yet cured. Examine 
 thyself also, whether thou hast not often 
 been guilty, like these blind Jews, of 
 preferring Barabbas to thy Saviour; by 
 turning thy back on him for some petty 
 interest or filthy pleasure? If so, thou 
 art more inexcusable than they, because 
 thou knowest him to be the Lord of 
 glory, at the same time as thou perse- 
 cutest him by sin; whereas had they 
 known him to be such, they would 
 never have preferred a Barabbas before 
 him. 
 
 TWENTY-EIGHTH DAY. 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR IS SCOURGED AT THE PIL- 
 LAR, AND CROWNED WITH THORNS. 
 
 Consider, Jlrst, how the Jews still 
 
 eontlniiinfT tn orv nut nfrnin«t nur Tinrd. 
 
 and in a tumultuous manner to demand 
 his crucifixion, Pilate contrives another 
 
 
GED 
 
 humiliation 
 dangerous 
 hich could 
 t humility: 
 Examine 
 st not often 
 d Jews, of 
 Javiour; by 
 some petty 
 If so, thou 
 3y, because 
 le Lord of 
 ihou perse- 
 j had they 
 hey would 
 bbas before 
 
 AT THE PILLAR, ETC. 
 
 163 
 
 DAY. 
 
 T THE PIL- 
 THORNS. 
 
 Jews still 
 t our Lord- 
 
 to demand 
 ^es another 
 
 
 way to bring about his being set at 
 liberty, VIZ. by striving to satisfy their 
 crue ty, ,n ordering him to be most se- 
 verely scourged. O! Pilate, how cruel 
 IS thy mercy! Is it thus' that thou 
 treatest mm whom thou declarest in- 
 nocent? Is this thy justice? But our 
 sins,0 my soul! required that the Lord 
 of glory should, be thus cruelly treated, 
 and subjected to this ignominious pun- 
 ishment, to which none but common 
 slaves, or the meanest wretches are 
 liable, and to which a Roman citizen 
 could upon no account be condemned, 
 btand thou, my soul! and see in what 
 ™^nner this sentence is executed. Be- 
 hold how the bloody soldiers lay their 
 impious hands on this meek Lamb of 
 G(^, how they strip oft" all his clothes, 
 and tie him naked fast to a stone pillar- 
 see how they discharge upon his sacred 
 DacJt and shoulders innumerable stripes, 
 lashes and scourges: behold the blood 
 come spouting forth on all sides: se« 
 now his body is all over rent and man- 
 gled by their cruelty, and the flesh lai(J 
 open to the very bones: behold bis en©. 
 
} 
 
 \ 
 
 Wli 
 
 164 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR IS SCOURGED 
 
 mies all the while insulting over him, 
 and rejoicing at his torments; whilst he, 
 with eyes cast up iowards heaven, is 
 offering up all that ho suffers for their 
 sins, and for those of ti?e whole world. 
 Ah! sinners, take a serious view of your 
 Redeemer's condition, and contemplat- 
 ing in his torn and mangled body, the 
 malice of sin, learn to detest this hell- 
 ish monster, which has brought on the 
 Son of God all these sul rings. 
 
 Consider, secondly, hotv these bloody 
 ruffians by their cruel scourging hav- 
 ing made but one wound of our Sa- 
 viour's body, from head to foot, loose 
 him at last from the pillar, leaving 
 him to put on his clothes as well as he 
 could. Ahl Christians, have compas- 
 sion now on your Saviour's abandoned 
 condition, who has no one to lend him 
 a helping hand to bind up his gaping 
 wounds, or staunch the blood that comes 
 flowing from them! O! present your- 
 selves now, and offer him what service 
 you are able : offer at least to assist him 
 in putting on his clothes, to cover his 
 green wounds from the cold air. But, 
 
 0!h 
 
 to hi 
 aifor 
 do hi 
 bing 
 Cc 
 less s 
 vioui 
 
 devil 
 such 
 since 
 a ba] 
 
 ragge 
 of loi 
 press 
 in his 
 in dCi 
 knees 
 saluta 
 
IGED 
 
 over him, 
 ; whilst he, 
 
 heaven, is 
 rs for their 
 hole world, 
 lew of your 
 contemplat- 
 d body, the 
 3t this hell- 
 jght on the 
 igs. 
 
 hese bloody 
 irging hav- 
 of our Sa- 
 
 foot, loose 
 ar, leaving 
 
 well as he 
 ve compas- 
 
 abandoned 
 ;o lend him 
 
 his gaping 
 I that comes 
 esent your- 
 ^hat service 
 o assist him 
 
 cover his 
 
 1 air. But, 
 
 AT THE PILLAE, ETC. 
 
 165 
 
 O! how rough are these woollen clothes 
 to his wounded back! Alas! instead of 
 affording him any ease or comfort, they 
 do but increase his sores, by their rub- 
 bing upon them. 
 
 Consider, thirdly, how these merci- 
 less soldiers had scarce given our Sa- 
 viour a short respite after his scourg- 
 ing, when they were pushed on by the 
 devil to act another scene of cruelty, 
 such as never was heard of before or 
 since: and that was, to make themselves 
 a barbarous sport in crowning him a 
 king. Therefore they drag him into 
 the court of the Proetorium, and assem- 
 ble together the whole regiment: then 
 violently strip him again of all his 
 clothes, which now begin to cleave to 
 his wounded body; set him on a bench 
 or stool, throw about him some old 
 ragged purple garment, tWist a wreath 
 of long, hard and sharp thorns, and 
 press it down on his sacred head, put 
 in his hand a reed for a sceptre : then 
 m dension, one by one, they bend their 
 knees before him, with the scornful 
 salutation, Hail, ktig of the Jews! they 
 
i ^ 
 
 III 
 
 166 OUR SAVIOUR IS fc^COJRGED 
 
 spit in his fhce, bullet him, m\d takin^ 
 the reed or cane out of his haud. strii.!' 
 him With It on the head, driving the 
 thorii^ deeper in, whilst the blood trickles 
 down apace from the many wounds 
 which ne receives from their points, 
 bweet Jesus! what shall we hfeie say 
 or which shall we most admire; the mal- 
 ice of these ministers of Satan, or thy 
 unparalleled charity, which made thee 
 undergo such c heard of reproaches 
 and torments for ungrateful sinners? 
 iilessed be thy goodness for ever. 
 . Consider, fourthly, how Pilate, hop- 
 ing now that the rage and malice of 
 the Jews would be satisfied, so as to 
 insist no longer upon our Saviour's 
 death, after they should see with how 
 much cruelty and contempt he had 
 been treated, in compliance to their 
 iury, leads him forth in the same • ^n- 
 dition, with the crown of thorns r .[s 
 head, and he ragged purpk his 
 
 shoulders; :..d from an eminen «ftews 
 "im to the people, saying, Ecvn ,omo, 
 hehold the man. Behold in what umx^ 
 ner he has now been handled, mjc 
 
 •\ 
 
rRGED 
 
 baud 
 
 3trik 
 
 .'iy 
 
 driving the 
 >lood trickles 
 iny wounds 
 heir points. 
 B hire say, 
 re; the mal- 
 itan, or thy 
 made thee 
 reproaches 
 ul sinners? 
 ever. 
 
 Pilate, hop- 
 l malice of 
 3, so as to 
 • Saviour's 
 J with how 
 3t he had 
 e to their 
 i same ' n- 
 3rns f i, is 
 >lt his 
 
 jn «fiews 
 
 what ' a- 
 
 Hed, -^oe 
 
 AT THE PILLAR, ETC. 
 
 167 
 
 then any longer to seek his death. Let 
 his body mangled from head to foot 
 bespeak your pity. But thou, O Chris- 
 tian soul! behold the man with other 
 kmd of eyes than these hard-hearted 
 wretches; and see to what a condition 
 thy sms and his own infinite charity 
 have reduced him. Behold his head 
 crowned with a wreath of sharp thorns, 
 piercmg on all sides his sacred flesh, 
 and entering into his temples with ex- 
 cessive pain. Behold his face quite 
 disfigured with blows, and quite be- 
 smeared with spittle and blood. Be- 
 hold his whole body inhumanly rent 
 and torn with whips and scourges; and 
 now covered with a hard ragged gar- 
 ment, rubbing, and at each moment 
 increasing his wounds; and then look 
 up, and conternplate Jiim upon his 
 throne of glory, and see what return 
 thou canst make him for having thus 
 annihilated himself for love of thee. He 
 desires no more of thee than an imita- 
 tion of his patience and humility: learn 
 then in what manner thou art to prac- 
 tice these lessons. 
 
168 
 
 OUE SAVIOUE CAERIES 
 
 TWENTY-NINTH DAY. 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR CARRIES HIS CROSS, AND IS 
 NAILED TO IT. 
 
 Consider, firsts how the malice of 
 the Jews, no way relenting at the sight 
 of the Lamb of God bleeding for the 
 sins of the world, but continuing still 
 in a tumultuous manner to demand that 
 he might be crucified, Pilate at last 
 yields to their importunity, and against 
 his own conscience, sentences our Sa- 
 viour to the death of the cross. Ah! 
 Christians, has it never been your mis- 
 fortune by the like cowardice to con- 
 demn your Saviour and his doctrine, 
 and basely to renounce in the practice 
 of your lives the maxims of the gospel, 
 for fear of what the world will say? 
 Has not too often a much weaker temp- 
 tation than the fear of losing Caesar's 
 friendship induced you to crucify again 
 the Son of God? Be confounded and 
 
 iC 
 
 pen I 
 
 Consider, secondly^ that this sentence 
 of death, how unjust soever from Pilate, 
 
HIS CROSS, ETC. 
 
 169 
 
 yet as being most just from his eternal 
 leather, and necessary for our salvation, 
 was received with perfect submission 
 charity and silence, by our blessed Ee- 
 (leemer; who thereupon was immedi- 
 ately stripped again of his purple gar- 
 ment; clad with his own clothes; a 
 heavy cross, of a length and size pro- 
 portionable to the bearing of a mm, 
 laid on his wounded shoulders; and two 
 thieves or highway robbers appointed 
 to be his associates, and to be executed 
 with him; to verify the prophecy. With 
 me wicked he was reputed, Isai. liii 
 Come now, devout souls, and take a 
 view of our Lord in this his last pro- 
 gress or procession. A crier leads the 
 way, publishing aloud the pretended 
 crimes and blasphemies of this never 
 heard of malefactor: then follow the 
 soldiers and executioners, with ropes, 
 hammers, nails, fe. After whom go- 
 eth or rather r .epeth along, our 
 High-priest and Victim, all bruised and 
 bloody, with a thief on each hand, and 
 
 the cross on his 
 forward step by 
 
 houlde 
 
 "p; followed 
 
 ragging it 
 
 and sT:ir- 
 
OUR SAVIOUR CABRiJ2* 
 
 rounded on all sides by the priests, the 
 scr-bes, and the whole mob of the peo- 
 ple, cursing, reviling and scoffing at 
 him,- whilst the cruel executioners are 
 hastening him forward with their kicks, 
 and blows. Ah! Christians, now at 
 least take pity on your Saviour's suf- 
 lerings, and add not t( his load by your 
 sins. ^ -^ * 
 
 CoNsiLiiR, thirdly, how our blessed 
 J^ord, having for some time, with un- 
 speakable labour and torment, carried 
 his cross through the streets, at last 
 falls down under its wei ht, unable to 
 carry it any . rthe. . W under not, my 
 soul, at this, since besides the load of 
 the cross oppreoLig his woaried body, 
 wounded m every part, and exhausted 
 with the loss of so mud blood, his 
 heavenly Father hap ^aiH upon his 
 shoulders another mo i upportable. 
 weight, viz. that of the sins of the 
 whole world. Ah! Christians, it is un- 
 der this intolerable burthen that your 
 ^^ vi-xQ laiis uuwn. In or IS 
 
 i.!/7 ^i^ ^^^ °f this merciless 
 load by Simon of Cyrene, who was 
 
ests, the 
 the peo- 
 •ffing at 
 lers are 
 ir kicks, 
 now at 
 ir's suf- 
 3y your 
 
 blessed 
 ith un- 
 carried 
 at last 
 able to 
 lot, my 
 oad of 
 [ body, 
 lausted 
 )d, his 
 on hi" 
 triable, 
 of the 
 is un- 
 1^ your 
 LNor is 
 rciless 
 5 was 
 
 HIS CROSS, ETC. 
 
 171 
 
 compelled to take up the cro.. ^n* i. 
 no part of the weight ^r .?•' V"^^re 
 
 all which theTetlnf/S;^^f.«,' 
 upon h s belovPfl ^^Tr /^^^"^r laid 
 by his blood «n/l"'l^ be^ cancelled 
 
 by his blood and deatl? ni -^ • 
 ffonrin^oc ^r .i '"_"catn Qf infinite 
 
 • (Ji infinite 
 
 ^^ J "^^^^ anu aeatJi 
 
 being nor-ty.',tra^'°"'" 
 
 wear- 'i ^ll^^^^^^^^ ^r.- 
 wine seasoned 'wfcf '^^^Sht of 
 
 again bliding^rrC'cT^ 
 
172 
 
 OTJR SAVIOUR CARRIES 
 
 O! see how, while the cross is prepar 
 ing, he falls upon his knees, and offers 
 himself to his eternal Father, a bleed- 
 ing victim to appease his wrath en- 
 kindled by thy sins. 
 
 CoNsiB^, Jlfthly, how the cross lying 
 flat on the ground, they lay our dear 
 Redeemer stretched out upon it, who 
 like a meek lamb makes no resistance. 
 And first drawing his right hand to the 
 place designed to fix it on, they drive 
 with their hammers a sharp gross nail 
 through the palm^ forcing its way with 
 incredible torment through the sinews, 
 veins, muscles and bones, of which the 
 hand is composed, into the hard wood of 
 the cross; in the mean time the whole 
 body, to favour the wound and the 
 pierced sinews, was naturally drawn 
 towards the right side, but was not long 
 permitted to remain so; for immediately 
 these cruel butchers laying hold of his 
 left arm and hand, violently drag him 
 towards the opposite side, in order to 
 nail that hand also to the place d ign- 
 ed for it. Then pulling down his legs, 
 they fastened his sacred feet in like 
 
HIS CROSS, ETC. 
 
 173 
 
 en- 
 
 manner wuh „a Is to the *vood: and 
 all this with such violence, that it is 
 
 and pul Img they very much strained 
 
 many parts, verifying the prediction of 
 the royal prophet: They have dug mv 
 ^^ds and feet, they have numbered 2 
 my bones, Ps. xxi. ^h! Christians, if 
 the contracting or piercing of a nerve 
 
 >ng of a bone, though never so small 
 
 think o'?T \ ""•'"'■^' ^^''^ ">"«' we 
 think of the torments vrfiich our Sa- 
 
 vjour endured in his dijointed body. 
 
 ed, when his hands and feet, where so 
 many s.news, muscles, veins, and bones 
 ai meet, were violently bo.ed through 
 with gross nails! 0!let us never cele 
 to admire, adore, and love his mer^ 
 
 ll 
 
174 OUR SAVIOUR ON THE ^ROSS. 
 
 li 
 
 THIRTIETH DAY. 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 
 
 Consider, firsts how the bloody exe- 
 cutioners having now nailed our Sa- 
 viour fast to the cross, begin with ropes 
 to raise him up in the air. O! what 
 shouts did his enemies make, when he 
 appeared above the people's heads ! with 
 what blasphemies did they salute him! 
 whilst his most afflicted mother, and 
 other devout friends, stood by pierced 
 to the he^.rj at the sight. At length 
 they let the foot of the cross fall with 
 a sudden. jolt into the hole prepared for 
 it J and thus he hung suspended in. the 
 air under the most excruciating tor- 
 tures, the weight of his body continual- 
 ly increasing the wounds in his pierced 
 hands and feetj without any resting 
 place for his head, but thorns; or bed 
 for his wearied and wounded body, but 
 the hard wood of the cross. 
 
 Coi siDER, secon-^ly, the infinite char- 
 ity of our Saviour, and thj unparallel- 
 ed malice of his enemies. When in 
 
s. 
 
 Jy cxe- 
 ►ur Sa- 
 il ropes 
 ! what 
 hen he 
 s! with 
 ;e him! 
 jr, and 
 pierced 
 
 length 
 lU with 
 red for 
 I in the 
 ig tor- 
 itinual- 
 pierced 
 resting 
 
 or bed 
 dy, but 
 
 e char- 
 arallel- 
 hen in 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 175 
 
 ^a^^ r-> '^ -OS out, 
 not e.yi«^S«' i'^ >r ^^ep know 
 
 shake their heads athT-' '^'^ ^^"^ ^^^^ 
 thou that desZyest^h^^^^^^ ^«^-' 
 
 ^ave now thyself ffZ "" ^^^'' ^«^^. 
 of God, coZdiwn £1 M "'' '^' ^'^ 
 ' only the eon. Jn (^0^' ^.T!^^^^ 
 
 but a so the chiVf^ • ^ soldiers, 
 unite in loar'i„1"2"!f^'^ and elders 
 such like renrnaJ^^ ."* ^ 'housand 
 
 -wch h: hrtd'it^p^r-' 
 
 anf^t ince-hnt ni T '" patience 
 
 intenor e^pt2^t of H^'k/"" "^ ">« 
 whilst he hanJ? , '''^ '''^^^ed soul, 
 
 thoughtsVpTafe tTwTrd^lT"^ "'^ 
 ers for us th^ a^^^ • i. "^' ^'^^ P^'ay- 
 
 agon.es orihelntSlSf J^'^'Y 
 
 which wis to" «! f "'^ "'^^'^ Father, 
 
 reden,p.ir„,':Sh ^ast'n'^'^"'''""' 
 'ng to poor sinners. ^° '"Part- 
 
 bleSrCin'S' ^^ P^" '"-t the 
 ^-ngsori^SltdtSjJ-:- 
 
176 OUR SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 
 
 was verified that prophecy of old Sim- 
 eon, that the sword should pierce her 
 very soul. 0! how killing a grief must 
 have oppressed the soul of this most 
 tender and loving of all mothers, who 
 during the whole course of the passion 
 of her dearest Son, whom she loved 
 with an incomparable love, was an eye- 
 witness to all the injuries, outrages, and 
 torments he endured. Ah I blessed Lady, 
 may we not truly say that the whips, 
 thorns and nails, that pierced thy Son's 
 flesh, made as deep a wound in thy vir- 
 gin heart, and that nothing less than a 
 miracle could have supported thy life 
 under such excess of pain? But, O! 
 what a deep wound didst thou feel in 
 thy soul, when thy dying Son recom- 
 mended thee to his belovec' disciple St. 
 John, giving to thee the Son of Zebe- 
 dee, in exchange for the Son of God! 
 Blessed Virginfwe gladly acknowledge 
 .thee for our mother, an honour con- 
 ferred on each of us in the person of 
 t. Jonn: U; mrougii mi my suuciui^o, 
 remember us poor banished children 
 of Eve, before the throne of grace. 
 
iS. 
 
 old Sim- 
 lerce her 
 :ief must 
 his most 
 ers, who 
 3 passion 
 he loved 
 3 an eye- 
 iges, and 
 led Lady, 
 le whips, 
 Lhy Son's 
 I thy vir- 
 ss than a 
 thy life 
 But, 0! 
 u feel in 
 n recom- 
 isciple St. 
 of Zebe- 
 of God! 
 nowledge 
 lour con- 
 person of 
 
 tUliCl lilgOy 
 
 children 
 of grace. 
 
 OUR SAVIOUK ON THE CEOSS. 177 
 
 Christians! learn the admirable fessona 
 taught you by our blessed Lady, at the 
 J°?' °f 'h« cross; imitate her un hiken 
 faith and undoubted hope; perfect re 
 f'f «'!?"' Patience and fortitude! O- 
 
 L ?h2r ^"^ '° '°r^ J««-' ^"d detest" 
 sm the true cause of his sufferings 
 
 seem ''now"; ^T^'^^' ^""^ «" '^ings 
 seeni now to have conspired aeainst 
 pur dearest Lord. The thought ff be 
 mg forsaken by his Fatherf and the 
 gnef and presence of his Mother, pierce 
 him to the heart io <■ ''^MP'erce 
 onPnP.hr u \ ^ '°'" hisapostes, 
 dell V " ^'^y^^^^y^A him, another 
 
 Donea him. His friends, and all tho<!P 
 whom he had most favoured and mirac 
 ulously cured, now either join wi™ hS 
 persecutors or at least ire aThamed 
 01 mm His enemies ijisult him, and 
 triumph over him. His own b^dV tv 
 •t« weight i» a torment to him Biu 
 
 joiesigiu of the ingratitude of nh.;». 
 from' hU 'T.^'^'f **'*'>" ^'" d'^ri;; 
 eternal loss of so many souls redeem- 
 
178 OUR SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 
 
 ed by his precious blood. Ah! sweet 
 Jesus, suffer me not to be included in 
 that unhappy number; suffer me not to 
 be so miserable, as to join with thy 
 enemies in crucifying thee by sin! 
 
 Consider, j^/;/i/^, the lessons that our 
 Saviour gives us by his last words 
 upon the cross. First, Of perfect love 
 and charity to his enemies, by praying 
 for them, and pleading their excuse 
 with his eternal Father: Father, for- 
 give them, for they know not what tkey 
 do. O! let us learn from our dying 
 Redeemer, this necessary lesson, to 
 love and pray for those that hate and 
 persecute us: and instead of ag:gravat- 
 ing, excuse their crime, and impute it 
 to their ignorance! O! how true is it 
 of every sinner, he knows not what he 
 does, otherwise he would never dare to 
 % in the face of infinite Majesty; he 
 would never be so mad a#to renounce 
 heaven for a trifle, and cast himself 
 down the precipice that leads to hell. 
 Secondly, Learn the efUcacy of a sin- 
 cere conversion, and an humble confes- 
 sion of sins, in the plenary indulgence 
 
 
)SS. 
 
 h! sweet 
 eluded in 
 me not to 
 with thy 
 sin! 
 
 i that our 
 st words 
 'feet love 
 
 praying 
 r excuse 
 iher, for- 
 vhat they 
 n dying 
 3sson, to 
 hate and 
 iggravat- 
 mpute it 
 true is it 
 
 what he 
 r dare to 
 esty; he 
 renounce 
 
 hlmseif 
 
 to hell. 
 
 e confes- 
 iulgerice 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 179 
 
 given by our dying Saviour to the good 
 
 T^Jrr ^ ""''' "*« «■« paradise.-. 
 TuirdlyU^,, a filial devodon to he 
 
 blessed Virgm, recommended to us as 
 a mother by her Son, in the person of 
 
 l^arn the greatness of the interior 
 anguish of thy Saviour's soul from 
 •those words, Mu God m, cL i 
 
 for no other reason, but that poor sTn- 
 ful man m.ght not be forsaken^ Fmh- 
 
 ulTJ'f -T^'^ "f 'hy crucified 
 our t • *''i' '' '° ^ observed, that 
 our Saviour suffered two violent thirats 
 upon the cross; the one corpo"eal, pr^ 
 
 suffered so many torments, and shed S 
 much blood; the other spiritual in hk 
 Tation^ •'-/-h^ent defire of our sal! 
 vation. But, O! cruel wretches, who 
 would grant him nothing but vinegar 
 iri"?!'. 1'^. -'•P--' thirst! fnd 
 »kA^1„"' X- '"","^'''«' «'"" instead of sa- 
 t'&tying his spiritual thirst by gratitude 
 and devotion, give him notli|bat "he 
 
m i 
 
 ■ 3i 
 
 180 
 
 ON THE DEATH 
 
 
 gall of sin and vi-egar of wickedness! 
 Sixthly, From these words of our dying 
 Saviour, // is consummated, learn to 
 rejoice that the whole work of man's 
 redemption is now perfected ; that the 
 figures and prophecies of the law are 
 fulfilled,- and the hand-writing that stood 
 against us is now completely cancelled 
 by the blood of our Eedeemer. Se- 
 venthly, From those last words of our* 
 expiring Lord, Father, into thy hands 1 
 commend my spirit, learn both in life 
 and death to commit thyself wholly to 
 God. Happy they that study well these 
 lessons which their great Master teach- 
 es from the chair of his cross. 
 
 THIRTY-FIRST DAY. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF OUR SAVIOITE. 
 
 Consider, /rs/, how our Lord having 
 spoken these last words, Father, into 
 thy hands I commend my spirit, with a 
 loud and strong voice, leaning down his 
 head in perfect submission 'to his Fa- 
 ther's will, and perfect charity to us 
 
OF OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 ;kedness! 
 ur dying 
 learn to 
 of man's 
 that the 
 law are 
 hat stood 
 cancelled 
 ler. Se- 
 s of our* 
 ' hands 1 
 1 in life 
 wholly to 
 ell these 
 ;r teach- 
 
 181 
 
 OUE. 
 
 ; having 
 ler, into 
 , with a 
 uwD hi-*? 
 his Fa- 
 y to us 
 
 poor sinners, to whom in this posture 
 he offered as it were the kiss of peace, 
 breathed forth his pure soul, and thus 
 ended his mortal Iif;3j which, from the 
 moment of his birth till now, had been 
 nothing else but a series of sufferings 
 endured for us. Hasten now, my soul, 
 and approach boldly to kiss the sacred 
 feet of thy Redeemer, view his pale 
 •limbs, count at leisure all his wounds, 
 and lament all thy sins, for which he 
 suffered such exquisite torments. 
 
 Consider, secondly, in the passion of 
 our Saviour, the truth of those words, 
 which were delivered by him upon an- 
 other occasion, He that humbleth him- 
 selj shall he exalted: and see how our 
 Lord, having humbled himself to the 
 death of the cross, was even at that 
 very time honoured and exalted by his 
 heavenly Father, and that many ways, 
 i^or during the time he hung upon the 
 cross, the sun for three whole hours 
 withdrew his light from the world: and 
 at nis deatn the earth trembled, the 
 rocks were rent asunder, and the monu- 
 ments opened : the veil of the temple, 
 
182 
 
 ON THE DEATH 
 
 Which hung before the sanctuary, was 
 rent from top to bottom: the people, 
 touched with these wonders, went home 
 strikmg their breasts; and the centurion 
 or captain of the guards publicly pro- 
 fessed, that this man, whom they had 
 crucified, was truly the Son of God. 
 fiejoice O Christian soul! to see thv 
 SaviouK's death thus honoured; and 
 cT """^^l^ «'l events to confide in 
 Ood, who will at last convert the malice 
 ot thy enemies to thy honour and ad- 
 vantage. Sit now down at the foot of 
 the cross, and there at leisure. 
 
 CoNsiDEK, thirdly, and repeat in thv 
 mind the multitude and variety of the 
 sufierings which thy Saviour has en! 
 durec for thee, from his entrance into 
 the garden of Gethsemani, till his ex- 
 piring on the cross. View them one 
 by one and thou shalt see, that not one 
 part of his sacred body (which being 
 the most perfect, was to the same timi 
 the most sensible of pain of any that 
 has ever been) was free from it/n«n„. 
 nar torment. His Acarf crowned w[»h 
 thorns; h 
 
 face defiled with spittle, 
 
OF OUE SAVIOUE. 
 
 183 
 
 ary, was 
 people, 
 snt home 
 enturion 
 cly pro- 
 ley had 
 of God. 
 see thy 
 }d ; and 
 ifide in 
 3 malice 
 and ad- 
 foot of 
 
 in thy 
 
 of the 
 las en- 
 ice into 
 his ex- 
 >m one 
 lot one 
 
 being 
 le time 
 y that 
 
 i 
 
 i with 
 jpittle, 
 
 bruised, and swoln black and blue with 
 blows; his hair and heard plucked and 
 torn; his mouth drenched with gall and 
 vinegar; his shoulders oppressed with 
 the heavy weight of the cross; his hands 
 and feet pierced with nails; his whole 
 body exhausted with a bloody sweat, 
 mangled and laid open with whips and 
 scourges; his limbs wearied out, and all 
 disjointed upon the cross. What he en- 
 dured in his soul was not a jot less, but 
 rather infinitely more painful than what 
 he suffered in nis body. Witness that 
 mortal anguish which cast him into 
 an agony in the garden; witness that 
 grievous complaint on the cross, My 
 God! my God! why hast thou forsaken 
 me? He suffered moreover in his re- 
 putation, by false witnesses and outra- 
 geous calumnies, which is often dearer 
 to a man than his life: he suffered in 
 his honour, by all manner of reproaches 
 and affronts: he suffered in his goods, 
 being despoiled of his very clothes, and 
 
 han^inor nnlrfid nnnn i\\a n.'r\aa. l^rtciiT 
 
 fered in his friends, being forsaker »y 
 them all: not to speak of other sui^ir- 
 
184 
 
 ON THE DEATH 
 
 'ngs, which are usuallv ^ . 
 
 to flesh and blood vi^.i" '^"'''''° 
 
 of those whon he L^ r^ '"g'-atilude 
 
 mies, their in,,!,/"""''''" °'' '''« ene- 
 &c. And in al .K°'"" '"^ *'^«ip'e«. 
 denied himself fh. ^^ f "fferingsf he 
 
 "dually aSsfc^"'"'^'"'' ""^'^^ he 
 
 -osseJ,a„dwLtL\"ri"t'''''^'^ 
 est torment, nf ,. "^^^ ^^de the great- 
 tolerable b- »^? '""'■'y''^ "ot only 
 
 fortabi.' t rsraT' r ^-^"^ 
 
 no other comrn-ri, ? ? "°^^ himse f 
 
 will of his Ser « !,^^' °^ '^°'"g the 
 redemption *^'' ^"^ Purchasin|our 
 
 fersTllTh^^^f^^'-hoitisthatsuf. 
 
 to,be the eternal ^o'„°V Co?"' '''"' 
 nal, co-equal anri ^^ ^ °''' ^o-eter- 
 
 Father, tie great tTa^'T^^ '"> ^is 
 heaven' and SMnfint*^ •^'''^^^ "^ . 
 'n wisdom, and b all n! f .•"" P°^^'' 
 for whom 'does he sufffrf pr" ^"' 
 poor wretched worm of L ^?"' " 
 
 "ngrateful sinners ^raL.^^u''^ f»' 
 fifll P,.*u """^f t^Sj traitors to his ptf.r 
 nai leather, and tn h; ^^ " "is eter- 
 
 veryJews-that-c7udfi;T'^:4>-h- 
 
OF OtTR SAVIOUR. 185 
 
 mortals who for the most part were 
 never hke to thank him for, or everso 
 much as think of, his suflbHngs 0° 
 how admirable art thou, O Lord • n a^l 
 thy ways, but in none ^nore so than in 
 the contrivances of thy mercy' o" 
 
 of Sd" T/""'K^''^'"'>''*«"''utes 
 rnfln^f \ '^ ^^"^ ^e discover his 
 
 wond rffn^'^r" ^"'! *";»"'y' i" thus 
 us Ind 111 '"T'^T^^'^S himself to 
 
 sars'lTlre°:f^''''n°'°"' 
 nai-nii^i^j nere we discover his un- 
 
 paialle ed mercy, ,n taking upon him- 
 seU our miseries, and endLirinjr the 
 stripes due to our sins. Here we be 
 hold the admirable wisdom of his provi 
 
 us by his death. Hero we learn to fear 
 the seventy of his justice, which felU^ 
 
 prevent th^ terrors of his iushVp w 
 mstantly embracing his mercy ?^ ^^ 
 
^K -'^^ 
 
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 Sciences 
 
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 < <^^^/% 
 
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 33 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, NY. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 

 
186 
 
 ON THE DEATH, ETC. 
 
 Consider, ffthly^ in the sufferings 
 of thy Saviour, the infinite malice, the 
 unparalleled heinousness of mortal sin, 
 which could not be cancelled but by the 
 blood of the Son of God. This is the 
 chief lesson which thy Saviour desires 
 to teach thee, from the chair of the 
 cross; thou canst not please him bet- 
 ter than by studying it well. O! never 
 then be so ungrateful as to crucify him 
 again by mortal sip. O ! suffer not that 
 monster to live in thee, for the destroy- 
 ing of which Christ himself would die. 
 
 THE END. 
 
uffe rings 
 alice, the 
 ortal sin, 
 ut by the 
 lis is the 
 r desires 
 r of the 
 him bet- 
 0! never 
 cify him 
 ' not that 
 destroy- 
 mld die. 
 
 
 RULES OF 
 
 A CHRISTIAN LIFE. 
 
 To he observed hy such as desire to se- 
 cure to themselves a happy eternity. 
 
 Settle in thy soul a firm resolution, 
 on no account whatever to consent to 
 mortal sm. This resolution is the very 
 foundation of a virtuous life: whosoever 
 IS not arrived thus far, has not as 
 yet begun to serve God. Without this 
 resolution, it is in vain for any one to 
 fla ter himself with the hopes of living 
 hohly, or dying happily. ^ 
 
 2. In order to enable thyself to keep 
 this resolution, be diligent in flying all 
 dangerous occasions, such as bad com- 
 pany, lewd or profane books, immodest 
 plays, &c. for he that loves the danser. 
 shall perish in it. Eccl. iii. 27. 
 
 3. Watch every motion of thy heart, 
 and resist the first impressions of evil' 
 Keep a strict guard upon thy senses 
 and imagination, that the enemy may 
 not surprise thy soul by these avenues 
 
:i 
 
 188 RULES OF A CHRISTIAN LIFE. 
 
 Contemn not small faults, lest by de-^ 
 grees thou fall into greater. 
 
 4. Fly an idle life, as the mother of 
 all mischief; and take it for a certain 
 truth, that indulgence will never bring 
 a Christian to heaven. 
 
 5. Never omit, upon any account 
 
 thy morning and evening prayers. 
 
 Kemember in the morning to present 
 to God the first fruits of the day, by 
 giving him thy first thoughts; make 
 an offering to him of all the actions of 
 the day, and renew this oblation at the 
 beginning of every thing thou dost: 
 Whether you eat or drink, says St. Paul, 
 1 Cor. X. 31. or whatever else you do, 
 do all for the glory of God, 
 
 6. In thy evening prayers make a 
 strict examination of conscience, call- 
 ing thyself to an account how thou hast 
 passed the day; and whatever sins thou 
 discoverest, labour to wash them away 
 by penitential tears, before thou layest 
 thyself down to sleep: for who knows 
 but that night may be thy last. In 
 going to bed, think on the grave; com- 
 pose thyself to rest in the arms of thy 
 
E. 
 
 by de-^ 
 
 )ther of 
 
 certain 
 
 Jr bring 
 
 account 
 yers. — 
 present 
 day, by 
 ; make 
 tions of 
 1 at the 
 u dost: 
 >t. Paul, 
 you do, 
 
 nake a 
 e, call- 
 ou hast 
 ns thou 
 1 away 
 layest 
 knows 
 St. In 
 
 ,* com- 
 of thy 
 
 RULES OF A CHRISTIAN LIFE. 189 
 
 God: and if thou wake in the night, 
 raise thy thoughts to him, who always 
 watches over thee. 
 
 7. Besides morning and evening de- 
 votions, set apart some time in the day 
 for prayer, particularly mental, by an 
 interior conversation of thy soul with 
 God, her only sovereign good. In the 
 midst of all thy employments, keep 
 thyself as much as possible in the pre- 
 sence of God, and frequently aspire to 
 him by short ejaculations. Read often 
 spiritual books, as letters or messages 
 sent thee from heaven: and if thy cir- 
 cumstances permit, assist daily at the 
 sacrifice of the mass. 
 
 8. Frequent the sacraments at least 
 once a month, and take special care to 
 prepare thyself to receive them worthily. 
 
 9. Have a great devotion to the pas- 
 sion of Christ, and often meditate upon 
 his sufferings. " » 
 
 10. Be particularly devout to his 
 blessed mother; take her for thy mo- 
 ther, and seek upon all occasions her 
 protection and prayers; but iearn withal 
 to imitate her virtues. 
 
t 
 
 190 RULES OF A CHRISTIAN LIFE. 
 
 11. Study to find out thy predomi- 
 nant passion, and labour with all thy 
 power to root it up. ^ 
 
 12. Let not a day pass without ofl^er- 
 mg to God some acts of contrition for 
 past sms, and strive to nourish in thv 
 soul a penitent spirit. 
 
 13. Beware of self love as thy great- 
 est enemy, and often use violence to 
 thyself by self-denials and mortifica- 
 tions; for, remember the kingdom of 
 heaven is not to be taken but by vio- 
 lence, St. Matt. xi. 12. 
 
 .14. Give alms according to thy abil- 
 ity : for judgment without mercy to him 
 that has not showed mercy, St. James ii. 
 1|3. bet a great value upon spiritual 
 alms-deeds, by endeavouring to reclaim 
 unhappy sinners: and for that end daily 
 bewail their misery in the sight of God. 
 
 15. Be exact in all the duties of thy 
 calling, as being to give an account one 
 day to that great Master, who has al- 
 lotted to each one of us our respective 
 station in his family. 
 
 16. Bemember always thy last end 
 and thou shalt never sin. Eccl. vii. 
 
 i'OCJ>|. 
 
FE. 
 
 predomi- 
 i all thy 
 
 )ut offer- 
 ition for 
 \i in thy 
 
 ly great- 
 lence to 
 lortifica- 
 ^dom of 
 by vio- 
 
 hy abil- 
 y to him 
 ames ii. 
 ipiritual 
 reclaim 
 id daily 
 of God. 
 i of thy 
 unt one 
 has al- 
 ipective 
 
 St end 
 
 * • 
 
 11. 
 
 ACTS OF 
 
 FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY. 
 
 Jiecommended to the frequent use of the Fmihfui. 
 
 A PRAYER TO BE SAID BEFORE THESE ACTS. 
 
 O Almighty and eternal God! grant to us 
 the increase of Faith, Hope, and Charity and 
 that we may deserve to obtain what thou 
 promisest, make us to love what 7hou com^ 
 mandest. Through Christ our LovlVrZ, 
 
 AN ACT OF FAITH. 
 
 I FIRMLY believe there is one God, and that 
 m this one God there are three pe sons, the 
 Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; that 
 from ?1? *r^^^hi"^«elf the nature of man 
 from the Virgin Mary's womb, by the opera- 
 
 i^-^^r"" ^'''"''" "^^"'•«» he was crucified 
 and died for us; that afterwards he rose again 
 and ascended up into heaven, from whenfe he 
 shall come to repay the jusl eVerlastTng gW 
 Moreover ""ihpl-^ everiasting punishl^trll 
 it oCl; l^^^»^^« whatever else the Catho- 
 ..c v^xxUx^h proposes to be believed, and this 
 because God, who is the sovereign truth 
 which can ne ther deceive nor be deceived 
 has revealed all these things to this his ChS! 
 
192 ACTS OF FAITH, HOPE, ETC. 
 
 . 
 
 AN ACT or HOPE. 
 
 nn? fif ^^V -^^^'"^ °" ^^y al"^ighty power, 
 and thy infinite mercy and goodness, and 
 because thou art faithful to thy promises I 
 trust in thee that thou wilt grant me forgTv'e-' 
 
 ?hH«f r^..''"'' ^^T?^ ^^^ ^^"^« of Jesus 
 Christ thy Son: and that thou wilt give mo 
 
 the assistance of thy grace, with which I 
 
 may labour to continue to the end in the 
 
 diligent exercise of all gdod works, and may 
 
 nrn^V«%'- ""k'^'" '^^ ^^^'^ ^^^^^ ^hou ha/u 
 promised in heaven. 
 
 AN ACT OP CHARITY. 
 
 O Lord! my God! I love thee with my 
 
 thou, O God! art the sovereign good; and for 
 thy own infinite perfections, art most worthy 
 of all love. And, for thy sake, I also love 
 my neighbour as myself. 
 
 AN ACT OF CONTRITION. 
 
 O MY God! for the sake of thy aovereign 
 goodness, and infinite perfection, which I love 
 above all things, I am exceedingly sorry from 
 the botK>m of my heart, and am grieved for 
 having offended, Iw my sins, this thy infinite 
 ffoodness: and I firmlv roonKrr. k« *u^ *..«;- 
 
 tance Of thy grace, never more to offend thee 
 tor the time to come, and carefully to avoid 
 the occasions of sin. 
 
OPE, ETC. 
 
 )PE. 
 
 almighty power, 
 d goodness, and 
 > thy promises, I 
 grant me forgive-' 
 e merits of Jesus 
 lou wilt give mo 
 3, with which I 
 the end in the 
 works, and may 
 which thou haaU 
 
 # 
 
 ITT. 
 
 3 thee with my 
 things, because 
 jn good ; and for 
 art most worthy 
 ike, I also love 
 
 riOK. 
 
 i thy Bovereign 
 on, which I love 
 ingly sorry from 
 am grieved for 
 this thy infinite 
 
 rC, UJ 
 
 
 e to offend theo 
 refully to avoid 
 
 ^i 
 
 % 
 
 
 %