sion; and, to see him fall, there is no necessity for his being attacked. These are the reasons which prove the certainty of the loss of righteousness in a lukewarm and infidel life. But are so many proofs necessary, my dear hearer, when your own misfortunes have so sadly instructed you? Remember, from whence you are fallen, as the Holy Spirit of God formerly said to a lukewarm and infidel soul. Remount to the source of the disorders under which you still bend. You will find it in the negligence and infidelity of which we speak. A birth of passion too feebly rejected, an occasion of danger too much frequented, practices of piety too frequently omitted or despised, convenience too sensually sought after, desires of pleasing too much listened to, dangerous writings too little avoided;— the source is almost" imperceptible. The torrent of iniquity proceeding from it has completely inundated the capacity of your soul. It was only a spark which has lighted up this great conflagration; it was a morsel of leaven, which, in the end, has fermented and corrupted the whole mass. You never believed it possible that you could be what at present you are. Whatever was said to you on this subject, you heard as exaggerations of zeal and spirituality. You would then have come forward of your own accord, in order to clear yourself of certain steps, for which you now feel not the smallest remorse. Remember from whence you are fallen; consider the depth of the abyss into which you are plunged: it is relaxation and slight infidelities which by degrees have conducted you to it. Once more, remember it, and see if that can be denominated a sure or durable state, which has brought you to the precipice.
Such is the usual artifice of Satan. He never at first proposes guilt; that would frighten away his prey, and remove it beyond the reach of his surprises. Too well he knows the road for entering the heart; he knows that he must gradually confirm the timid conscience against the horror of guilt, and propose nothing at first but honest purposes and certain limits in pleasure. It is not boldly, like the lion, he at first attacks; it is warily like the serpent: he does not lead you straight to the gulf; he conducts you there by winding paths. No, my brethren, crimes are never the first essays of the heart. David was imprudent and slothful, before he became an adulterer; Solomon had allowed himself to be seduced and enervated by the delights and magnificence of royalty, before he publicly appeared in the midst of lewd women; Judas had given up his heart to money, before he put a price upon his Master; Peter was presumptuous, before he renounced the truth. Vice has its progress as well as virtue. As the day, says the prophet, instructs the day, thus the night gives melancholy lessons to the night; and there is not much difference between a state which suspends all the grace of protection, fortifies all the passions, renders useless all the succours of piety, and a state where it is entirely extinct.
What, then, my dear hearer, can confirm or comfort you in this life of negligence and infidelity? Is it that exemption from guilt
