If by our deeds we become saints, true it is, that by our deeds also we
shall be condemned.
Yes, it is little by little that we press onward, either towards salvation
or eternal ruin; and when at last we reach the gate of glory, or that of
perdition, the cry escapes our lips, "Already!"
The first backward step is almost imperceptible; it was those tiny flakes
of snow, seeming to melt as they touch the earth, but falling one upon
another, that have formed that immense mass which seems ready to fall and
crush us.
Ah! if I tried to trace back to what first led to that act of sin, the
thought that produced the desire, the circumstance that gave rise to the
thought, I should find something almost imperceptible; perhaps a word with
a _double entendre_ I had heard, and at which I had smiled; a useless
explanation, sought out of mere curiosity; a hasty look, cast I knew not
wherefore, and which conscience prompted me to check; a prayer neglected,
because it wearied me; work left undone, while I indulged in some
day-dream that flitted before my fancy....
A week later the same things occur, but this time more prolonged; the
stifled voice of conscience is hushed.
Yet another week.... Alas! let us stop there; each can complete the sad
story for himself, and it is easy to draw the practical conclusion.