IxXXiv. PROLEGOMENA. 



that, like a passing cloud, leave not a rack be- 

 hind ! But, alas, it is too late ! You confess 

 your disregard of sanctity, and your long cherished 

 fondness for pleasure ; your director gives you 

 the last sacraments, prays for you, and with you ; 

 and Avith the hope of a short though painful 

 purgatory in the foreground after the tremendous 

 general judgment to Avhich you hasten, you close 

 your eyes, sigh Avith a new sort of difficulty, feel 

 as you never felt before, recognise the cold 

 stimulus of death, and in a moment more are 

 gone ! Ponder, meditative reader, on this your 

 inevitable passage. Be not deceived by the con- 

 solation that good Catholics die in the extacy of 

 joy ; it is true that they do so, but it is where 

 they have first died to themselves. Be assured, 

 that the scene I have been describing under some 

 modification awaits you ; and that there is no 

 sure way to live with the saints in heaven, but 

 to retire in to yourself on earth, and walk with 

 God in the world. Not only religion and 

 authority, but the deepest metaphysical reason- 

 ings have convinced me that every action in life, 

 every thought, and every sensation, is but a part 

 of our trial, in this carnal mould in which our 

 soul is cast to work out its salvation, and, there- 

 fore, whatever passes in this temporal state is 

 pregnant Avith everlasting consequences, known 

 only to God, who alone can judge of comparative 



