to that rich man over there; he can give you at once a hundred pieces of gold, and with that you may buy as much bread and meat as you like. Oh, it is easy to talk of a hundred pieces of gold, is his answer; it is not so easy to get them! But try at all events; you must not lose hope so soon. What! do you think me a fool because I am a poor man? A hundred pieces of gold! I have not even the idea, much less the hope of getting so much. And why not? Because I have never heard that the gentleman, whose house you have shown me, has ever given so much to one like me, or that he has the intention of doing so; so there is no use in hoping. And the beggar is quite right.
No sinner can have such a hope, for he knows not whether he will die after an illness or with the use of reason.
O mortal! you have put off repentance till your last illness, Now tell me, where have you found any promise on the part of God, nay, any sign of His will to the effect that He will then give you the grace without which repentance is impossible? Mark well that I am not now asking you how you know that you will be sick. You may be surprised by a sudden death in the field, in the street, in sleep, in the state of sin, in a short time, nay, this very day. That manner of death is not by any means an unusual one. Nor shall we consider the many accidents that are so liable to happen, especially in our days, such as a sudden attack of apoplexy, that is now so common that even the youngest and strongest have reason to dread it. There are many diseases that attack men so suddenly and with such violence and smarting, acute pains, that all strength of soul and body is taken from them at once, and it becomes impossible for them to collect their thoughts sufficiently to make a good confession, or even to repent of past sins with a true supernatural sorrow, and from a supernatural motive; much less can they give any outward sign of this inward and generally imperfect contrition. And it is greatly to be feared that in the case of most sinners, who are apt to study their bodily comforts, and to deny themselves no pleasures or sensual delights, the least pain will be intolerable to them. If you are attacked by a milder form of illness, it still may happen that you die before the priest comes, to whom you intend to confess your sins. And if the priest is at your bedside, perhaps your weakness or the heat of the fever may make you delirious, and deprive you of reason, without which you cannot repent; and in that case no absolution you may receive will help you to cast off the burden of your sins. Supposing your reason remains undisturbed, it may be that, besides the pains of your sickness,