Dearly beloved in the Lord, I have now done that work which I came upon; what effect it hath, or will have, upon your hearts, I know not, nor is it any further in my power to accomplish that which my soul desireth for you.  Were it the Lord’s will that I might have my wish herein, the words that you have this day heard should so stick by you that the secure should be awakened by them, and none of you should perish by the slighting of your salvation.  I can not follow you to your several habitations to apply this word to your particular necessities; but oh, that I could make every man’s conscience a preacher to himself that it might do it, which is ever with you!  That the next time you go prayerless to bed, or about your business, conscience might cry out, Dost thou set no more by Christ and thy salvation?  That the next time you are tempted to think hardly of a holy and diligent life (I will not say to deride it as more ado than needs), conscience might cry out to thee, Dost thou set so light by Christ and thy salvation?  That the next time you are ready to rush upon unknown sin, and to please your fleshly desires against the command of God, conscience might cry out, Is Christ and salvation no more worth than to cast them away, or venture them for thy lust?  That when you are following the world with your most eager desires, forgetting the world to come, and the change that is a little before you, conscience might cry out to you, Is Christ and salvation no more worth than so?  That when you are next spending the Lord’s day in idleness or vain sports, conscience might tell you what you are doing.  In a word, that in all your neglects of duty, your sticking at the supposed labor or cost of a godly life, yea, in all your cold and lazy prayers and performances, conscience might tell you how unsuitable such endeavors are to the reward; and that Christ and salvation should not be so slighted.  I will say no more but this at this time, it is a thousand pities that when God hath provided a Savior for the world, and when Christ hath suffered so much for their sins, and made so full a satisfaction to justice, and purchased so glorious a kingdom for His saints, and all this is offered so freely to sinners, to lost, unworthy sinners, even for nothing, that yet so many millions should everlastingly perish because they make light of their Savior and salvation, and prefer the vain world and their lusts before them.  I have delivered my message, the Lord open your hearts to receive it.  I have persuaded you with the word of truth and soberness; the Lord persuade you more effectually, or else all this is lost.  Amen.

BOSSUET

THE FUNERAL SERMON ON THE DEATH OF THE GRANDE CONDE

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

Jacque Benigne Bossuet was born at Dijon, in Burgundy, in 1627.  In an illustrious group of French Catholic preachers he occupied a foremost place.  In beginning his sermons he was reserved and dignified, but as he moved forward and his passionate utterance captured his hearers, “he watched their rising emotion, the rooted glances of a thousand eyes filled him with a sort of divine frenzy, his notes became a burden and a hindrance, and with impetuous ardor he abandoned himself to the inspiration of the moment.”