Thus, my beloved friends, shall the revolutions and kingdoms of
this world be brought to a conclusion for ever. Thus shall end
all the earthly pursuits which either amused us by their novelty,
or seduced us by their charms. Thus shall the Son of Man
come. Thus shall be ushered in the great day of his manifestation,
the beginning of his reign, the complete redemption of his
mystical body. On this day the consciences of all mankind shall
be exposed to view a day of calamity and despair to the sinner,
but of peace, joy, and consolation to the just. On this day the
eternal lot of the whole world shall be decided.
The constant recollection of these great truths animated the
primitive Christian with patience in persecution, and inspired him
with joy in the midst of sufferings and contempt. It was this
that supported the courage of the martyrs, invigorated the constancy
of virgins, and rendered sweet and agreeable to the recluse
the dreary paths of solitude and retirement. You yourselves,
perhaps, have sometimes felt sentiments of compunction and fear,
on the recollection of what will come to pass on this day. But
these sentiments were probably of short continuance — thoughts of
a more cheerful nature soon erased them from your mind, and
restored you to your former tranquillity.
In the first ages it would have been deemed a kind of apostacy
not to have sighed after the day of the Lord. The thought of this
great event was a subject of consolation to these primitive disciples.
The apostles were obliged to moderate the eager desires
which they expressed for its arrival. But in these times the
Church is obliged to call forth all the powers of her ministry to
impress the thought of this awful day on the minds of the faithful —
not indeed with the expectation of exciting within them the same
holy and devout impatience for its speedy accomplishment that,
I apprehend, is no longer possible, but with the hopes of awakening
them to repentance by the fear and consternation, which
all must feel who are sensible of the alternative that awaits them
in the winding up of these general accounts, in the last trying
scene of this awful and terrible catastrophe.
It is not my intention in this discourse to display the external
terrors of this great day — I mean, the confusion of the elements,
the irregular motions of the Heavenly bodies, the universal destruction
of nature, and men withering away through fear. I
shall confine myself to a subject more adapted to make a healthy
impression on the minds of my audience. I shall confine myself
solely to the consideration of what will naturally present itself to
view on the opening of the book of conscience — when the secrets
of all men's hearts shall be revealed.
Man, during his abode in this world, knows not his own heart.
Self-love spreads a veil over his imperfections, and conceals the
knowledge of his true state — both from himself and from others.
But on this day he shall be seen in his true dress, both by himself
and by all mankind. The just man is disregarded and despised
in this world; he is subjected in a great measure to the will of
the sinner; his life is esteemed folly, and his end without honour.
He, likewise, shall be seen in his true light on this day, and shall
be honored before the whole world with that honor to which his
merits are entitled. I purpose, therefore, to make a few reflections
on the confusion which shall seize the wicked, when the secrets of
their hearts shall be revealed, and also on the glory and
honour which the just shall receive, when their secret virtues and
good works shall be fully manifested.
1. It would be presumption to pretend to describe in
appropriate terms the qualities of the Great Judge, who shall preside
on that awful day. He is a severe lawgiver, who is jealous of the
sanctity of his laws, and who will judge you by them alone. All
extenuations, all favorable interpretations, which custom or
worldly wisdom have introduced, will then disappear — and the
advantages, which the sinner appeared to derive from them, will
end in nothing. He is a Judge, highly interested in the glory of
his Father against the sinner; and on this day he will display his
zeal for the honour of the Divinity, against those who have refused
him the just tribute of adoration and glory. He is a Saviour,
whose sacred wounds will severely rebuke you for your ingratitude,
and whose blood will raise its voice, and loudly demand your condemnation.
He is the searcher of hearts, to whose eyes every
thing is open, even the most secret thoughts. In a word, he is a
God of power and majesty, before whom the Heavens will pass
away, the elements be dissolved, all nature be in confusion, and
obliged to sustain the terrors of his presence, and the harshness of
his examination.
The particulars of this dreadful examination will, in the first
place, be the same for all. Difference of times, of ages, of countries,
of birth, and disposition, will be totally disregarded. And as
the gospel, by which you will be judged, is the same for all ages
and states, and proposes the same rules of conduct to the strong
and to the weak, to the king and to the subject, to the hermit and
to the worldling, to the primitive Christian and to the Christian of
the present times, there will be no distinction in the mode of examination.
No attention will be paid to excuses of rank, of birth,
of the dangers of particular states, of the customs of the world, of
weakness of constitution — but the same rigorous account of chastity,
of humility, of modesty, of constant vigilance, of forgiveness
of injuries, of self-denial, of mortification, and of all other
Christian virtues, will be exacted from the poor and from the
rich, from the prince and from the people, from the learned
and the unlearned, from the primitive and from the modern
Christian.
In the second place, this examination will be universal — that
is, it will include every circumstance of your lives. It will
include the failings of your younger years, which probably
have long since escaped your memory, the indiscretions of
youth, almost every hour of which was perhaps stained with
crimes, the desires and cares of more advanced years, the
peevishness and insensibility of old age. With what surprise will
the sinner perceive, when the different stages of his life are thus
passed in review before his eyes, that through the whole course he
was profane, dissolute, sensual, without piety, without repentance,
without good works — that he busied himself in the different
situations of life, to no other purpose than to heap up to himself a more
abundant treasure of wrath — and that he lived as if all were to
have ended with his mortal existence.
In this life we never behold the true state of our interior. Our
attention is engaged by the few serious sentiments with which we
are occasionally animated, and the judgment which we form of
ourselves is generally influenced by the last impressions which are
made upon our minds. A few thoughts of salvation, with which
God inspires us from time to time. A day, for instance, spent in
the exercises of piety, causes us to forget many years spent in the
pursuits of vice, and the declaration of our crimes at the tribunal
of penance, blots them out from our remembrance, and
restores us to as perfect a state of tranquillity, as if we bad never
committed them. But before this terrible Judge all will appear
at once — our whole lives will be exposed to view. Every motion
of our hearts, from the first developement of reason, to the last
moment of existence, will be manifested — the long catalogue of
crimes, committed during the different stages of life, will be all
collected together. Not an action, not a desire, not a thought, not
a word will be omitted; for if the hairs of our head are numbered,
with greater reason are our works. Then shall you see the true
state of your souls. Then shall their secret avenues, their hidden
affections, their depraved appetites, be all laid open to your view.
Then shall their unlawful desires, their hatreds and animosities,
their vitiated and impure intentions, their criminal projects, which
were overlooked because they proved abortive, and all their other
vices, be displayed before you. "Oh!" says St. Bernard,
"crimes
without number will burst suddenly upon the sight, as from a secret
hiding place, of which we never thought that we were guilty."
We shall see what we never saw before — we shall see our true
selves. The dark abyss shall be enlightened, and the mystery of
iniquity shall be revealed.
After the scrutiny into our transgressions
is concluded, the Judge will enter into a strict examination
of the good works which we ought to have performed, but have
neglected. Here again we shall find that our whole lives have
been checkered with sins of omission, of which we never thought
of repenting — so many opportunities, for instance, which, through
unconcern, through fear of offending, through interest, or other
motives, we suffered to escape in silence, when our character required
that we should have vindicated the honour of God, and the
cause of virtue and truth — so many occasions of promoting the
spiritual welfare of our neighbor, by example, or by other means,
which we have neglected — so many favorable moments suffered
to pass by through indolence or indifference, when we might have
prevented crimes in others by seasonable advice, and by prudent
remonstrances — so many days, so many moments wasted away in
idleness and sloth, which might have been devoted, without any
inconvenience, to the great affair of salvation. Ah my beloved,
this was the time which we called the most innocent period of our
lives — a time, which, if it was not distinguished by any good
works, we considered, at least, as totally void of evil. With what
regret will the sinner look back on that length of days, which he
sacrificed to trifles, and to a world that is no more, when he reflects
that, if he had consecrated them to the service of God, he might
have merited Heaven! With what confusion will he recollect the
humiliations, the labors and crosses to which he submitted for
the acquisition of wealth, of a fortune which he could possess only
for an instant, when he is convinced that one half, or even a
quarter of the same trials, endured for the sake of Christ, would
have placed him for ever at rest in the secure enjoyment of God's
eternal kingdom.
After this, we shall be called to account for all the graces
which we have abused — for the many calls and inspirations which
we have neglected — for the little profit which we reaped from the
powerful exhortations of his ministers — for the improper use which
we made of the sufferings and afflictions, with which he was
pleased to visit us for our improvement in good — for the many
gifts of nature, which ought to have been devoted to the works of
piety, but which we made the instruments of vice. Ah! If the
unprofitable servant was cast into outer darkness, because he
merely buried his talent, what favor can they expect, who have
received so many talents, and have employed them all against the
Giver?
The account, which we shall here be called upon to give, will
be terrible in the extreme. Christ will demand back again at our
hands the price of his blood. We are sometimes inclined to complain
that God has not done enough for us, that we are naturally
inclined to evil, that we cannot soften down the harshness of our
temper and disposition, and that he has not given us sufficient
grace to resist the occasious of sin to which we are exposed. But
at the last day, we shall clearly perceive that our whole lives were
one continued abuse of his favors and graces. We shall see that,
preferably to so many nations, whom he has left in the darkness
of infidelity, we were favored with the light of faith, fed with his
holy word and with his sacraments, and supported by his inspirations
and graces. Yes, you will be astonished to see how much
God has done for you, and how little you have done for him.
Your complaints will be turned into confusion, which will terminate
in despair.
Hitherto, beloved Christians, the examination has extended to
those sins only which the sinner has committed in his own person.
But when the Sovereign Judge shall proceed to investigate the
sins which we have occasioned in others, what an immense multitude
will be again presented to our view! We shall behold, assembled
before our eyes, all the souls to whom we have been the
occasion of sin ... all the souls who have, either by our example, by
our solicitations or impurities, been seduced from the paths of
virtue, and condemned to Hell ... all the souls, whose faith we have
shaken, whose piety we have weakened, whose promiscuity we have
encouraged. Yes our Lord Jesus, to whom they belonged, and
who had bought them with his precious blood, will require them
at our hands as his inheritance — as a conquest which we have
wrested from him — as his children, whom we have murdered.
Ah! If he marked Cain with the seal of reprobation on account
of the blood of his brother, with what seal will he mark the sinner,
when he shall demand an account of the souls whom he has
murdered, and consigned to the second and eternal death?
In this manner will our whole souls be exposed to view.
Happy, exclaims St. Augustin, should we be, if we could open our
eyes, and behold the state of our interior as clearly now as we
shall behold it then. Truly, my beloved, could we divest ourselves
of those prejudices which cloud our sight ... could we resist
the influence of those examples, which encourage us in our delusions ...
could we be convinced of the falsity of those maxims and
customs which tranquillize our consciences ... could we measure
by the standard of truth, the faculties and talents on which we
pride ourselves ... could we renounce that self-love, which is the
root of all our evils ... and could we, by these means, see ourselves
in the same light in which we are seen of God — what a holy hatred
should we conceive against ourselves! How strenuously should
we endeavour to humble ourselves in his sight, during the days of
our mortality, in hopes of avoiding the humiliations of that day,
when the secrets of all hearts shall be laid open, and made manifest
to the whole world.
2. Let us, however, turn to a more cheerful subject,
and describe the examination of that happy few, of which we all hope to
form a part.
Two things, which, according to appearances, are inconsistent
with the idea of infinite justice, may be said to be unavoidable in
the indiscriminate society of the good and the bad. First ... Concealed
crimes escape the public censure which they deserve, and
hidden virtue is deprived of the applause to which it is entitled.
Secondly ... The sinner is oftentimes raised to honors and dignities,
whilst the just man is obliged to tread the lowly paths of subjection
and submission to his orders. On this great day, these evils
shall be fully rectified. The sinner shall be separated from the
just, as soon as the book of conscience is displayed, and the
honors and the dignities of the Heavenly Jerusalem shall be conferred
on the deserving the true and faithful servants of the
Lord.
What a consolation will it be to the just, to have the secrets of
their hearts finally revealed. Their perfections were concealed
from men in this world. They were known to God alone. They
were unknown even to themselves — for humility had concealed
from their view the beauty and innocence of their interior, and
had displayed before their eyes only the few blemishes and imperfections
to which human nature is unavoidably exposed. But
now the veil shall be withdrawn, and their secret storehouse of
merits shall be thrown open to the inspection of all. With what
astonishment will the great assembly of the sons of men behold
the triumphs of these humble servants of God! Their hitherto concealed
victories over the world, the flesh, and the Devil — their
heroic sacrifices — their fervent desires — their tender sighs
— their
transports of love — their faith — their humility — their magnanimity
— their greatness of soul — their perfect contempt for all those
false and fleeting vanities on which the hopes and desires of world
lings are so constantly fixed. Then shall it be seen and acknowledged,
that nothing created has so just a title to praise and
admiration, as the just man. Then shall it be seen and acknowledged,
that the interior exploits of the true Christian are more
sublime, and more noble, than all the great transactions of the
world, that they alone are worthy to be recorded in the book of
life, and that in the estimation of God himself, they exhibit a
spectacle more worthy of the admiration of angels and men, than
all the boasted victories and conquests which swell the pages of
history, the memory of which has been immortalized by pompous
monuments, but which shall now be considered as the effects of a
puerile and barbarous ambition, and as the horrid fruits of pride
and vain glory. Thus, the evil complained of in the first instance,
will be entirely removed, and things will be restored to their proper order.
The guilty will not triumph — will not escape the
general contempt, nor the punishment which is due to their
crimes. And an ample recompense will be given to the just man,
in the clear and distinct view of an astonished and admiring
universe.
The second evil is the prosperity of the wicked, and the adversity
of the good. The just man, as if of no more account than
the dust from which he sprang, and as if resembling the basest
metals passing in the progress to refinement through the fiery
ordeal of tribulation, is, not unfrequently, the lowest and most
contemptible of his species — whilst the sinner is exalted like the
cedar of Lebanon, and surrounded by all that riches and honour
can procure. This, in appearance, is contrary to order and justice.
But, although by this means the just are purified, and the
wicked hardened ... although this confused mixture of good and
evil enters into the designs of Providence, and the just and unjust
are hastened to their destination by ways which are inscrutable
to man ... nevertheless, it is necessary that the Son of God should
rectify all things — that he should publicly manifest the distinction
which exists between good and evil, between the man who serves
the Lord, and the man who denies him. This will be effected on
the great day of the Lord — order will be perfectly established — the
good will be separated from the wicked — these will be placed on
the right hand, and the others on the left.
Then shall the Son of Man, from his exalted throne in the
clouds of Heaven, cast his eyes over the immense multitude of
peoples and nations assembled before him. Then shall he collect
his chosen people from the four corners of the earth. Then shall
he unite together the true children of Israel. Then shall he introduce
to notice, and celebrate the exploits of heroes of religion,
hitherto unknown to the world. The different epochs, or stated
periods of time, he will distinguish, not by the victories of warriors,
not by the rise or fall of empires, but by the particular triumphs
of his grace, by the victories of the just man over his passions,
by the establishment of his reign in the heart, by the invincible
constancy of a persecuted disciple. He will entirely change the
order of things — he will create a new Heaven and a new earth —
he will reduce this infinite variety of peoples, of nations, of titles,
dignities, and states, into two different orders or descriptions of men
to the elect of God, and to the reprobate. The one shall be
placed on his right hand, the other on the left.
What a terrible separation, my beloved brethren, will then
take place! Father will be separated from son, brother from
brother, friend from friend ... one shall be taken, the other left.
Death, which separates us for a time from the dearest objects of
our affections, has thus much, at least, of consolation in it, that
hereafter, perhaps, we may be united again. But here, the separation
which divides us will be eternal — as far as the east is from
the west, or Heaven from Hell, so far will the just be removed
from the reprobate for ever.
All things being thus finally arranged — all mankind thus divided —
each one immovable in the place allotted to him — confusion, dismay,
terror, and despair, shall be visible on the countenance of the one —
and joy, serenity, and confidence, shall enliven
the other ... the eyes of the just shall be fixed on the Son of Man,
their great and good deliverer — the eyes of the wicked shall be
cast on the earth, penetrating into that dreadful abyss, which in
a short moment is to open, and swallow them up for eternity.
Then will the King of Glory, says the gospel, place himself between
the two assemblies, and turning to the just on the right,
with looks of compassion and love — looks, which alone would repay
them for all their past afflictions, he will say to them:
"Come, ye
blessed of my Father, possess the kingdom prepared for you from
the foundation of the world" [Matthew 25:34]. Whilst you lived
on earth, you were treated by worldly men as fools, as the outcast of
society, and as useless members of the state — but they shall
this day be convinced that the world subsisted only for you — that
the world was made only for you — and that, as soon as your number
was complete, the final dissolution took place. Come, then,
my beloved: Quit this earth, where you were always strangers and
pilgrims — follow me in the paths of glory and happiness, as you
followed me in those of humiliations and sufferings. Your afflictions
were momentary, but the reward which awaits you shall be
eternal. "Come, ye blessed of my Father, possess the kingdom
prepared for you from the foundation of the world."
Then turning to the wicked on the left, with eyes flashing with
indignation, and with a countenance replete with terrors, with a
voice, says the prophet, that shall open the bowels of the abyss
[Numumbers 16], he will say, not as on the cross, "Father, forgive
them for they know not what they do" [Luke 23:34], but,
"Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, which was prepared
for the Devil and his angels" [Matthew 25:41]. You were
once the chosen people of my Father, but you are now the accursed —
the enjoyments which you preferred before me were false
arid momentary, but your punishment shall be eternal. "Depart
from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire." Then the just, triumphantly
ascending into the clouds with the Son of Man, will sing to
their deliverer: "Thou art just, Lord, and rich in mercy. Thou
hast crowned all thy blessings by the recompense which thou now
bestowest on our merits." Then the wicked will curse the Author
of their existence, and the day on which they were born — or
rather, they will turn their rage against themselves, as the sole
authors of their damnation. Then shall the abyss be opened, and
the Heavens shall stoop down. The reprobate shall go into eternal
torments, and the elect into life everlasting. Afterwards, there
will be no further communication between them. The sentence
which divides them is irrevocable — and they separate for ever.
After such a description, calculated to make an impression on
the most hardened, I cannot better conclude than by addressing
to you the words, which Moses addressed to the Israelites, after
he had represented to them the dreadful threats and the consoling
promises which were written in the book of the law: "Children
of Israel," says he,
"I this day propose to your choice a blessing or
a curse — a blessing, if you fulfil the precept of the Lord your
God — a curse, if you forsake his ways, which I have pointed out
to you, in order to follow strange gods." [Deuteronomy 21:26] The same
do I address to you. It is in your power to choose which of the
two you will embrace. You have heard the promises, and the
threats — the blessing, and the curse. You must take part either
with the Devil and his angels, or with Christ and his elect: there
is no alternative here. I have shown you the way which leads to
Heaven, and that which leads to Hell. In which of the two will
you walk? What would be your eternal lot, if this instant you
were summoned to appear before your Judge? Be on your
guard — man dies as he lives. Dread, therefore, lest death should
surprise you in the state of sin. Forsake the ways of the wicked
and live the life of the just, if you hope to be placed with them on
the right, and to accompany them into the regions of a blissful
immortality.
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