ity; and therefore such a dying man will think with exultation: O my God! in how many dangers of sin have I not been! how often might I not have lost heaven! Eternal thanks to Thee that Thou hast saved me by Thy grace! No wall danger is happily over; my voyage is ended; I should indeed be a fool if I were now to turn back when in sight of the harbor and leave my God! No; I will rather run with a well-laden ship into the haven of eternity.
Exhortation and conclusion for the just to serve God zealously, that they may have a happy death. O happy and joyful death of the just man! I conclude in the words of St. Bernard: “The death of the just is happy on account of its peacefulness; but it is best of all on account of its security.”[1] This should and must encourage us, my dear brethren, to labor diligently to avoid all sin, to serve God zealously, to bear patiently all difficulties, annoyances, and troubles of life, and to heap up rich treasures of good works while we still have time. Let the wicked now ridicule and laugh at us, and vaunt u id boast, falsely imagining that the joys and happiness of life are theirs alone, while nothing but weeping, mourning, and melancholy falls to the lot of the servants of God; we can give them the same answer that the ants gave the grasshopper in the fable. A swarm of ants were running about in the field during the sum mer, busily engaged in collecting the scattered grains of corn and bringing them to their store. The grasshopper looked on for a time; “O you poor fools,” he said at last, “why do you plague yourselves the whole day long? Look at me and see what a pleasant life I have; all I have to do is to whistle, sing, and hop from one blade of grass to the other.” “That is all very fine,” said one of the old ants; “hop and sing while you may; the spring and summer will not last always; the winter is coming on, and then we shall have in our stores of corn sufficient food to support us, while you, who have gathered nothing during the summer, must then die of hunger.” Such, too, may be the thought of the pious Christian: laugh now ye wicked, and indulge your passions! it will not be always summer with you; the autumn must come; the day must decline, life must end: “The night cometh when no man can work.”[2] Then you will begin to tremble with fear, and I shall laugh with joy; your conscience will reproach you with your sins; you will think with despair: alas! how much evil I have done! while mine will represent to
