ishment. If we do not make this atonement during life, either by patiently bearing many trials and torments, or by voluntarily chastising ourselves by works of mortification and penance, or by gaining indulgences granted by the Church, or by hearing Mass and performing other devotions (although so great is the number of sins and faults daily committed by even the most pious and holy that a complete satisfaction is hardly ever accomplished), then we must atone for those sins in the next life by suffering in our own persons and by purgatorial punishment. For no one can be admitted into heaven and to the sight of God who is not perfectly free from even the least stain. Alas! what will become of us? Is there any one who will dare to say that he shall escape purgatory?
Or in the next by severe punishment.
And what do we imagine we shall have to suffer for those almost countless sins and faults? Do we think they are but small matters, and that God does not consider them so exactly? Ah, no! The God of mercy and goodness, even in this life, where mercy holds the foremost rank, where punishments willingly endured are united with the infinite merits of the Passion and Death of Our Lord, and therefore have a great atoning power over and above their own merit—even in this life God has sometimes punished most severely small sins committed by faithful servants of His. Thus, for instance, a half deliberate doubt on the part of Moses, who hesitated about striking the rock with his rod, was the cause of his being excluded from the promised land; an act of curiosity on the part of Lot’s wife, who looked round to see the burning city of Sodom, was enough to cause her to be turned into a pillar of salt. The carelessness of Oza in putting forth his hand to support the ark of the covenant drew down on him the punishment of a sudden death. The silly vanity of King David, who wished to know the number of his people, brought the plague amongst them, which in three days carried off seventy thousand men. Now, I say, if God, who is otherwise so merciful, inflicts such severe punishments on even His faithful servants for small faults, alas! I cannot help thinking, how strict He will be in the next life, where His jus tice alone untempered by mercy shall wield the rod? where suffering is not united with the merits of Christ, but is simply endured by a mere creature, a suffering that, no matter how keen it is, can hardly be compared to an offence offered to a God of infinite goodness? Alas! cries out St. Augustine; “wo to even