Sermons of the Rev. Francis A. Baker, Priest of the Congregation of St. Paul: With a Memoir of His LifeBaker, Francis A. (Francis Aloysius)
Religion
Sermons of the Rev. Francis A. Baker, Priest of the Congregation of St. Paul: With a Memoir of His Life
Baker, Francis A. (Francis Aloysius)
Baker, Francis A. (Francis Aloysius), 1820-1865; Catholic Church -- Sermons; Sermons, American -- 19th century
Tell me, my brethren, do you think that young persons who
contract habits of sin that undermine their health know all they
are bringing on themselves--the weakness of body, the feebleness
of mind, the early decay, the shame, the remorse, the impotence
of will, the tyranny of passion, the broken vows and resolutions,
the hopelessness, the fear--perhaps the premature disease and
death? No, all this was not in their thoughts at first. These are
the bitter lessons which the youth has learned in the school of
sin. He has not found out what he was doing till it was all but
too late. Or that married woman who has stepped aside from the
path of virtue, did she realize what she was doing? Did she think
of the plighted faith broken; did she think of the horrible guilt
of the adulteress, of the agony, the remorse, the deceit, the
falsehood, the trembling fear of her whole future life; did she
realize the moment when her guilt would be detected, the fury of
her wronged husband, her family dishonored, her children torn
from her embrace, her name infamous, herself forlorn and ruined?
Oh, no! these things she did not realize. There was indeed, on
the day when she committed the dreadful crime, a dark and fearful
form in her path, that raised its hands in warning, and frowned a
frown of dreadful menace. It was the awful form of conscience,
but she turned away from the sight, and shut her ear to the
words, and heard not half the message. And so the dreadful
consequences of her sin have come upon her almost as if there had
been no warning. Or that drunkard, when he was a handsome young
man, with a bright eye and a light step, and was neatly dressed,
and was succeeding in his business; when he first began to
tipple, did he realize that he would soon be a diseased, bloated,
dirty vagabond; that his children would be half naked, and his
wife half starved; or that he would spend the last cent in his
pocket, or the last rag on his back, in the vain effort to allay
that thirst for drink which is almost as unquenchable as the fire
of hell?
{332}
No, he little foresaw it, and if it had been told him, he would
have said with Hasael, the Syrian captain, when Elisha showed him
the abominations he was about to commit, "What, am I a dog, that
I should do such things?" Or that thief, when he yielded to the
glittering temptation, and made himself rich for a while with
dishonest riches, did he then see before him the deeper poverty
that was to follow; the loss of all that makes a man's heart glow
and his life happy; the lies that he must tell, the subterfuges
he must resort to, the horrible detection, the loss of situation,
the public trial, the imprisonment? No. Of course these were all
daily in his thoughts, for they were part of the risk he knew he
was running; but so little did he bring them home to himself, and
the suffering he was to endure, that when they came it seemed
almost hard, as if a wholly unlooked-for calamity had overtaken
him. So it is.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account