# The Practice Of Christian And Religious Perfection/Volume 1/Treatise 1

THE PRACTICE
OF
CHRISTIAN AND RELIGIOUS PERFECTION.
THE FIRST TREATISE.
ON THE ESTEEM AND AFFECTION WE OUGHT TO HAVE FOR WHATEVER RELATES TO OUR SPIRITUAL ADVANCEMENT ; AND ON MANY OTHER THINGS CONDUCIVE TO IT.
CHAPTER I.
The great Value we ought to set on Spiritual Things.
"I wished for a right understanding of things," says the Wise Man, " and God gave it me, I called upon him, and he filled me with the Spirit of Wisdom, which I preferred before sceptres and crowns, and believed that riches and precious stones deserved not to be compared thereunto ; for all the gold and silver upon earth is nothing but a little sand and clay, in comparison of wisdom." (Wis. vii. 7.) The true wisdom which all of us ought to desire is Christian perfection. Now, this consists in uniting ourselves to God by love, according to these words of St. Paul, — a Above all things I recommend charity unto you, which is the bond of perfection, whereby we are united to God." (Colos. iii. 14.) We ought, therefore, set as great value on perfection, and on everything conducive to its attainment, as Solomon says he set on wisdom ; and we ought to believe with St. Paul, — " That if we gain Jesus Christ it is enough ; for all the rest is nothing but dirt and ordure." (Phil. iii. 8.) This is the best means we have of attaining perfection. For the degree to which this esteem ascends in our hearts will be the measure of our own spiritual advancement in particular, and of that of religion in general. The reason is, because we desire nothing but according to the estimation we hold it in. For our will being a blind faculty that pursues nothing, but what the un​derstanding proposes to it, that value, which our understanding sets upon any object, becomes of necessity the measure of our desires. And our will being the absolute mistress that commands all the interior and exterior faculties of our souls, we never exert ourselves for the attainment of any object, but according to that degree wherein our will is moved to desire it. In order, then, that we earnestly desire it, and diligently exert ourselves for its attainment, it is necessary that we hold in high estimation whatever relates to our advancement in perfection. For, these things bear such reciprocal relation, that the measure of the one is the infallible rule of the other.
To carry on his trade to advantage, a jeweller should know well the value of precious stones : otherwise he may happen to sell at a low rate a jewel of great value. Our traffic is in precious stones ; " and we are all merchants in the kingdom of heaven, and seek for fine pearls." (Matt xiii. 45.) We should, therefore, be good judges of the merchandise we trade in, lest, by a strange abuse, we give gold for dirt, and part with heaven, for earth. u Let not the wise man," says our Saviour, by the mouth of the Prophet Jeremy, " glory in his wisdom, .nor the strong man in his strength, nor the rich man in the abundance of his wealth ; but let him that does glory, glory in his knowledge of me." ( Jer. ix. 23.) The most valuable of all treasures consists in the knowledge, love, and service of God ; this is our greatest, and, indeed, our only affair ; or to say better, it is for this we were created ; for this we entered into religion ; and it is in this alone, as in our only end, we ought to repose ourselves, and establish our greatest glory.
I wish, therefore, that this esteem of perfection and of spiritual things conducive to it, would make a deep impression on the hearts of all men, and particularly of religious ; and that we take care to encourage each other to it, not only by our words, and ordinary conversation, but much more by our actions, and the general tenor of our lives. By this means, those as yet but novices in the way of virtue, and such as are more advanced in it, and all in general, must acknowledge, that in religion we should attach importance to spiritual things only. In fine, as St. Ignatius sets forth in his Constitutions : " What we value most in religious persons is not depth of learning, nor great talents for preaching, nor any other natural or human endowment ; but it is humility and obedience, a spirit of recollection and prayer." (Cons., p. 10.) It is this we must, from the ​beginning, imprint on the minds of all who are received into religion, and it is with this milk they, who intend to lead a holy life, must be first fed. When they perceive, that, of all things, piety is most valued, that it is the practice those convinced of the vanity of the world are engaged in, and that the pious are chiefly loved and esteemed, then they will presently apply their thoughts, and use their endeavours, not to acquire great learning, or to become famous preachers, but to excel each other in humility and mortification. By this, however, I do not mean, that gaining general esteem or good will should be our motive for embracing virtue. I only assert, that when it shall be known that virtue is the only thing esteemed in religion, we shall be more convinced, that it is the only thing truly deserving of esteem. For every one coming thus to the knowledge of the true way in which he should walk, will devote himself without reserve to virtue — will apply himself solely to his spiritual advancement, and will believe that everything else is but vanity and folly.
From all this, it can be readily inferred, what a dangerous example is set religious societies, by those who introduce no other topic than human science, and who are constantly bestowing praises on such as are eminent for learning. This example is the more dangerous, because seeing them so highly valued by the graver sort of men, new beginners will conclude, that it is by the acquisition of these things they will be entitled to respect and preferment. Upon this account, learning is the only object they propose to themselves, and the desire of acquiring it increasing daily, the love of humility and mortification insensibly decays in their hearts. At length they make so little account of the one in comparison of the other, that from intense application to study, they omit what is of strictest obligation. Hence it comes to pass, that many of them relax, are perverted, and forsake religion. Now, instead of instilling into the minds of these beginners, the vain desire of being reputed men of learning, were it not better to represent to them, how important and necessary a thing it is to acquire virtue and humility, and how unprofitable, or rather how dangerous it is, without humility, to be possessed of talents and learning.
In his Life of St. Fulgentius, abbot, Surius has a passage very applicable to the present subject. He tells us, that among the religious in the monastery of this holy abbot there were ​some, who laboured hard, and devoted themselves entirely to the service of the community, but who applied not with equal fervour to prayer; spiritual reading, and interior recollection. Now St. Fulgentius never thought so much of these, as of others. He always showed a far greater love and esteem for those who, though unable, by reason of their weak and sickly constitution, to be of any service to the convent, were yet devoted to spiritual things, and careful to advance in virtue. And doubtless he acted right. For, if we are not humble and submissive to the will of our superiors, what will it avail us to have talents, and other good qualities? If on this ground we claim greater liberties and exemptions, it certainly were far better for us never to have had talents at all. The case were different indeed, if in the account which is, one day, to be demanded of the superior, God should ask him, — " Were his subjects men of study and science?" But no! these are the questions God will ask him, — " Have those committed to your charge improved themselves in the science of saints?" " Have they advanced daily in virtue?" "Have they been employed according to their talents, without suffering their exterior occupations to check their interior advancement?" It is this, in the opinion of a very holy man (Tho.-a-Kempis, xiii. c. 3), for which every particular person also shall be accountable to Almighty God, who, on the day of judgment, will not ask us, what we have read, but what we have done — nor how learnedly we have spoken, but how religiously we have lived?
The sacred text relates, that our blessed Saviour having sent his disciples to preach, they returned full of joy, telling him, "That even the devils were subject to them, in his name." To whom our Saviour answered, — " Rejoice not that you work miracles, and that the devils are subject to you; but rejoice in this, that your names are written in heaven." (Luke, x. 17, 20.) We ought, then, to place all our joy and happiness in acquiring the kingdom of heaven, for without that all the rest are nothing. "What will it avail a man to gain the whole world, if he loseth his soul?" (Matt. xvi. 26.)
And if we say, what our Saviour himself says, that these occupations which tend to the conversion of souls ought not to make us forget what we owe to our own salvation, since it were useless to have contributed to save all the world, if we do not endeavour to save ourselves — what may we not, with greater reason, say of other occupations? Certainly, it is un​reasonable in a religious man, to be so entirely absorbed in study, or in any other worldly employment, as to neglect his interior— to neglect prayer, examination of conscience, penance and mortification — to give to spiritual things the last and lowest place in his thoughts — to employ in devotion, that time only which remains after the discharge of other duties, and in case he could not compass both, to choose rather to omit his spiritual duties, than to be remiss in the others. This, in a word, were to live not as a religious person, but as a man who had no relish for heavenly things.
St. Dorotheus reports, that his disciple Dositheus discharged the duty of infirmarian so well, was so attentive to the sick, made their beds, dressed their rooms, kept all things so neat, and in such good order, that the saint going one day to visit the infirmary, Dositheus said to him: " Father, I have a thought of vain glory, which tells me, that I do my duty perfectly well in this employment; and methinks you ought to be perfectly well satisfied with me." But the answer of the good abbot gave a check to the presumption of his disciple. " I allow," said St. Dorotheus, " that you are grown a very good infirmarian, and very careful; but I do not perceive as yet, that you are become a good religious man." (Patr. torn. 3. Doct. 11.) Let every one, therefore, use his utmost endeavours, that no man may say of him, you are a good infirmarian or a good porter — you are a great scholar, a learned doctor, or a celebrated preacher; but you are not a good religious man. For in fact, we entered religion only to become true religious. It is this character we ought to prefer to all others — it is this we ought to seek after with the utmost diligence, and have perpetually before our eyes. Indeed all other things, compared to our advancement in piety, ought to be looked upon as accessaries only, according to the words of our Saviour: " Seek first the kingdom of God and his justice, and all those things shall be added unto you." (Matt. vi. 33.)
We read that some of the Fathers in the desert (Cass. lib. 10), unable to apply themselves continually to prayer and spiritual reading, yet resolving not to spend any of their time idly, employed all their leisure hours in making baskets of palms, or in some other manual labour. And at the end of the year many of them burnt what they had made, having laboured only to give themselves occupation and to avoid idleness. So ought we to make what relates to our spiritual ad​vancement, our chief business, and to apply ourselves to all our other affairs, even to those which regard the edification of our neighbour, with the same spirit as these holy Fathers did to making their baskets, that is, without weakening, in the slightest degree, our obligations of working out our salvation and aspiring to perfection. We must then proceed upon this ground, and hold it an infallible maxim, that the spiritual exercises conducive to our advancement in piety must ever be preferred to all other things, and that none of these duties must ever do omitted or neglected on any account whatever. For it is that which maintains us and advances us in virtue: and if we are once negligent therein, we shall soon feel our neglect prejudicial to us. We have but too often experienced, that the derangement of our interior proceeds from our growing cold in spiritual exercises. "My heart is withered within me," says the Psalmist, " because I have forgotten to eat my bread." (Ps. ci. 5.) If the food of our souls is wanting,, it is certain, we shall become very feeble and languishing. St. Ignatius earnestly recommends this point, and often insists upon it. " The study," says he, in one place, " of novices and of all others ought to be that of self-denial, and of the most proper means of advancing in virtue and perfection." (III. p. 1. § 28. and R. 1 2. Sum. Const. &c.) And in another place he says, "Let all devote sufficient time to their spiritual exercises, and endeavour to advance daily in virtue, according to the measure of grace God has given them." And elsewhere he adds, "Let every one be as exact as possible in spending well the time allotted for prayer, meditation, and spiritual reading." And these words, "as exact as possible," deserve, no doubt, particular attention.
Here we can readily perceive, that in whatever business we are engaged, whether in discharging the duties of the trust reposed in us, or in obeying our superiors, it is by no means their intention, that, on this account, we omit our usual spiritual exercises. For it cannot be the intention of any superior, that we should fail in the observance of our rules, and particularly of rules so important and indispensable. Let no one, therefore, attempt to excuse the neglect of his spiritual exercises, under the specious pretext of obedience, alleging, that he could not attend to prayer, the examination of conscience, or to spiritual reading, because he was obliged to fulfil the duties of obedience. For after all, it is not obedience, but it is our own tepidity and ​the little relish we have for piety, that hinders us from performing these things. St. Basil (Bas. Ser. Per.) says, we ought to be very exact in giving to Almighty God the time allotted for our spiritual exercises. And as, whenever it happens, that we have not bad time to eat and sleep in consequence of our being obliged to watch with a sick person, and to assist him in dying well, we take great care to refresh immediately our wearied bodies, and will be sure to find time for doing so; in like manner, in case we are hindered from making our prayer or examination of conscience at the usual hour, we must ardently desire to supply that omission, and to acquit ourselves of these duties as soon as we possibly can.
Whenever, during the time of the spiritual exercises, we are, through necessity, employed otherwise by our superiors, their intention is not that we neglect, but only that we defer for a while these spiritual exercises, and afterwards resume and fully perform them, according to the saying of the Wise Man: — w Let nothing hinder you from praying always." (Ecclus. xviii. 22.) He does not say, " hinder no man," but " let nothing hinder you t. e., let no business make you omit your prayers; and certainly nothing can make a good religious man omit them, because he will always find sufficient leisure for them.
In the book called Bibliotheca Patrum, it is written of St. Dorotheus, that though he was often obliged to go very late to bed, and occasionally to rise in the night in order to entertain strangers and passengers of whom he had the care, yet he never omitted rising to prayer, at the same hour with the other religious of the convent. When he perceived that, in consequence of his great fatigues, the brother whose office it was to call up the rest of the religious did not knock at the door of his cell, he requested of one of his companions to do him that kindness, though he lately had a violent fever, and was not quite recovered from it. Thus indeed he showed a real desire of not omitting his spiritual duties, and by not, on every trifling indisposition, dispensing with himself in them, he was enabled to observe his rule during the rest of the day. We read likewise in the same book, that an aged holy monk saw once an angel incensing all the religious who made haste to come to prayer, and incensing the very seats of those other religious, who, by reason of lawful avocations, could not be present at this duty : but the angel did not incense the seats of such as, through sloth, neglected to come to choir. This is very proper both to comfort those who, ​called elsewhere by obedience, cannot assist with the test at the common exercises of devotion, and to teach us, not, through our own fault, to absent ourselves from them.
CHAPTER II.
What a Love and ardent Desire of Perfection we ought to have.
" Blessed are they," says the gospel, " who hunger and thirst after justice, for they shall be filled." (Matt. v. 6.) Though the word "justice" is particularly applied to one of the four cardinal virtues as distinct from the rest; nevertheless, it is very applicable to all the virtues, and to sanctity in general. We give the name of justice to righteousness and to holiness of life, and we call those just, who are holy and virtuous. The Wise Man says, " That the justice of the righteous shall deliver them" (Prov. xi. 6), that is, they shall be saved by their holiness of life. This word is taken in the same sense in several passages of Scripture. " Unless your justice," says our Saviour, " exceeds that of the Scribes and Pharisees, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matt. v. 20); i.e., you will not be saved unless you have more virtue, more religion, and more sanctity, than they have. In the same manner, must be understood what our Saviour said to St. John, when he refused to baptize him: — "For so it becometh us to fulfil all justice (Matt. iii. 15) ; as if he bad said, I must do this to set an example of obedience, of humility, and of all manner of perfection. We must then take in the same sense, those words I have cited in the beginning of this chapter, and believe that Jesus Christ called those blessed, who have so great a love, and so ardent a desire of virtue, as to feel the same pain from it as is felt from hunger and violent thirst. St. Jerom writing on this passage, says, it is not enough for us to have a weak desire of virtue and perfection, but we must hunger and thirst after it; so as to cry out with the Royal Prophet: — " As the hart panteth after the fountains of waters, so my soul panteth after thee, O God!" (Ps. xli. 2.)
This ardent desire is so necessary to us, that, as I have said in the foregoing chapter, all our spiritual advancement depends upon it. It is the first principle which disposes us to it, and ​our only means of acquiring perfection. " The beginning of wisdom," which is nothing else than the knowledge and love of God, wherein this perfection consists, " is to have a real and strong desire to obtain it." (Wis. vi. 18.) It is with great justice said by philosophers, that the end is the first cause which impels us to act; so that the more strongly we desire this end the more solicitude and ardour we feel to attain it. I repeat, then, this earnest desire of our spiritual advancement is so necessary — it should spring so immediately from the heart — it should, without the aid of anything else, impel us so forcibly - that there are but little hopes of such as feel not its impulse. Let us give an example in the person of a religious, and every man can apply to it himself, according to his peculiar situation. It is very necessary in religion, that the superiors should have a watchful eye over their subjects, and that they reprehend and punish those who do amiss. Now there can be no greater hope of the religious who does his duty through this motive only. For his regularity of life will last no longer, than while the eye of the superior is on him: and hence, unless what he does springs from the heart, and from a real desire of amendment, there is no reason for relying much on it; and infallibly this man will not persevere.
There is this difference between things put in motion by an extrinsic principle, and things which move of themselves, that, in the former, the motion weakens, the nearer they approach their term, as happens when a stone is thrown upwards ; whereas in the latter, as when the same stone falls to its centre, the nearer they approach their term, the more rapid the motion becomes. The difference will prove the very same between those who act through dread of punishment, desire of esteem, or through human respect of any sort, and those who act through love of virtue and a sincere desire of pleasing G-od. These remain always firm and constant in the exercises of piety, but those persevering only while they are reprehended or watched, quickly relapse into their former disorders.
St. Gregory (Hom. 38) tells us of his aunt Gordiana, that when her two sisters, Tharsilla and Emiliana, reprehended her for the levity of her manner, and for her not observing that modesty and reserve so requisite in a person of her profession, she, while the reprehension lasted, put on so serious and composed a countenance, that she seemed to take the admonition in good part, and with an intention to profit of it; but in a little time, ​this feigned reserve entirely vanishing, she resumed her former manners, spent her time in idle conversations, and thought of nothing but of amusing herself with some seculars who were pensioners in the same monastery. Just as the bow, though bent, when the string is loosened quickly restores itself to its natural form, in like manner the impressions made on this young lady's mind were quickly effaced, as they had been made by an external cause, whose source lay not in her heart.
The affair of Christian perfection is not a business to be done by constraint; it is the heart which must undertake it. Speaking to the young man in the gospel, our Saviour tells him, "If thou wilt be perfect" (Matt. xix. 21) ; in order to show us that the root of perfection is in our will. For if we have not a sincere desire of becoming perfect, all the care and attention of our superiors will avail nothing. Here we can find the answer to the question put by St. Bonaventure, when he asks: Why was one superior sufficient formerly for one thousand religious, nay for four or five thousand, who, according to St. Jerom and St. Austin, lived under one abbot; and now-a-days one superior is scarce sufficient for ten^ religious, nay even for a smaller number. (Bon. Rel. Per. T. I. c. 39.) The reason is, because formerly the religious cherished an ardent desire of perfection, and this fire kindling in their hearts, they applied themselves, with all possible zeal, to their spiritual advancement. " The just," says the Wise Man, " shall shine, and shall spread like sparks of fire among reeds." (Wis. iii. 7.) By this metaphor, the Holy Ghost explains very clearly, with what ease and speed just men advance in the paths, of virtue, when their hearts are once inflamed with this divine fire. "They shall spread like sparks of fire among reeds." Imagine to yourselves how quick the flame rushes among reeds, when they are set on fire, and you will conceive how the just advance in virtue, when their hearts are once inflamed. This was the case with the ancient hermits, who, for this reason, were so far from having need of a superior to spur them on in their duties, that they needed one to moderate their zeal. But if we feel not these desires in our hearts, so far from one superior being sufficient for ten religious, ten superiors, notwithstanding their united efforts, would not make one religious man perfect against his will. For what will it avail to visit his chamber; to see that he makes his meditation and prayer at the time appointed? The visit being past, cannot he amuse himself as he pleases? And even whilst he is on his knees, cannot he ​direct his thoughts to his studies, to business, to trifles? When he is afterwards to give an account of the state of his conscience, cannot he say what he pleases, and conceal what is most essential to be revealed? Cannot he make us believe, that his conscience is in a good state, while, perhaps, it is in a state of all others the most deplorable? It is in vain, then, we take all possible care and precaution to make a man virtuous, unless he sincerely desires, and strenuously endeavours, to become so himself.
The answer of St. Thomas of Aquin to one of his sisters is very well adapted to the present subject. She asks him, " How she could save her soul?" (Hist. Pr. v. 37.) He answered, " By willing it if you desire it, you will be saved, if you desire it, you will make progress in virtue, you will render yourself perfect. All then depends on our willing it, t. e., on our willing it seriously and effectually, and on exerting ourselves with all possible diligence to secure our salvation. For Almighty God is always ready to assist us; but if our own will is wanting, all the exertions of our superiors are unavailing. It is you yourself, therefore, that must take your salvation to heart — it is your own affair — it is you alone that are concerned, and it is for this alone you entered religion. Let every one, then, be persuaded, that as soon as he begins to grow tepid and negligent in what relates to his spiritual advancement — as soon as he abstains from the exact performance of his exercises of devotion, and feels not interiorly a great desire of making progress in virtue and of mortifying himself — from that very moment, he conducts badly the business of his eternal salvation. This doctrine is conformable to a rule laid down by St. Ignatius in the beginning of his Constitutions. " It is the interior law," says he, " of charity and of the divine love imprinted and engraven on our hearts by the Holy Ghost, which ought to support, guide, and make us advance in the way of God's service." (Proem. Const. § 1.) It is this fire of his love, this insatiable desire of his greater glory, which ought continually urge us to elevate ourselves towards him, and make us advance in virtue.
This desire once truly imprinted in the soul makes us exert ourselves with fervour and diligence to attain what we wish for. For we are naturally active in seeking and finding out the things we have an inclination for; and it is for this reason the Wise Man says, a The beginning of wisdom is to excite in our hearts an earnest desire thereof. (Wis. vi. 18.) But in this we find another advantage, also which renders this means ​very efficacious; for let the duties be ever so difficult in themselves, a strong attachment to them makes them easy and sweet. For example, how comes it to pass, that a religious should feel so little pain on quitting the world, and entering religion, but because he desired with his whole heart to become religiouB? God had inspired him with an exceeding great desire thereof, which is the grace of vocation, and plucked out of bis heart all attachment to the world, planted therein a love of retirement and religion, and everything became easy. On the contrary, the very same thing appears extremely painful to persons in the world, because they have not been favoured by God with the desires, and the grace of vocation, you have been favoured with. As, then, what rendered our entrance into religion so easy and pleasant, was the fervour we had at the time, and that determined will, which nor parents, nor friends, nor the Whole earth together, could change, or pervert; in like manner, it is by persevering in this original fervour we shall advance in virtue, and render the practices of devotion easy and delightful. So long as this fervour shall last, the performance of all religious duties will become easy; but this once cooling, they will seem painful and insupportable. What, think you, is the reason, why the same man is, at one time, dejected and disgusted, and at another time is content and at ease in the performance of his religious duties? Let him not attach the blame thereof to the duties themselves, nor to the superiors, but let him impute this inconstancy to himself, and to the little relish he has for virtue and mortification. A strong, healthy man, says Father Avila, will, with ease, carry that burden, which a child or sick person cannot raise from the ground. It is only then from the different dispositions of our souls, that the difficulty springs. The duties are always the same. They seem to us, for a time, so easy, that they cost us no trouble; and if they appear different now from what they had been before, we are to blame ourselves, who, instead of being perfect men, as long since we ought to have been, are still children in virtue — are fallen sick, and have suffered that fervour to cool, which we had on entering religion.
CHAPTER III.
That an ardent Desire of our Spiritual Advancement is a Means and Disposition most proper for obtaining Favours from God.
What renders so very necessary this desire, and as T may say, this hunger and thirst for our spiritual advancement, is, that we cannot have a better disposition than this is for obtaining from God the perfection we aim at. St. Ambrose says, that the Lord is so well pleased with the man who feels this longing desire, that he fills his soul with graces and favours; and in support of this assertion, he quotes these words of the Blessed Virgin in her canticle : " The Lord has filled the hungry with good things." (Luke, i. 35.) The Royal Prophet has said the same before: "The Lord has filled the einpty soul, and has satiated the hungry and thirsty soul with good things." (Ps. cvi. 9.)
Here then we see, as has been observed in a former chapter, that, in recompense of their good-will, the fervour whereof is most pleasing in his eyes, God has heaped his favours and riches on those, who have had so great a zeal for perfection as, in a manner, to have hungered and thirsted after it. An angel appeared to Daniel, and told him his prayers were heard, because " he was a man of desires." (Dan. ix. 23.) The desire David had of building a temple was so pleasing to God, that though he did not permit him to carry his design into execution, yet, as if he had executed it, the Lord, to recompense him, confirmed the crown to his posterity. In fine, so earnest was Zacheus's desire of seeing the Redeemer, that Jesus first looked up to him in the sycamore tree, saying, " Zacheus, make haste and come down, for this day I must abide in thy house." (Luke, xix. 5.) But the truth of this maxim is still more clearly set forth by Solomon, who speaking of wisdom, which is nothing else than God himself, says: " Wisdom is easily seen by those that love it, and is soon found by them that seek it." (Wis. vi. 13.) But do you know with what facility it is found? u It preventeth them that covet it, and it sheweth itself first to them." (Ib. vi. 1 4.) It is at hand the moment you wish for it. " He that rises early to seek it shall not go far before he meets it, he shall find it sitting at his door." (Ib. vi. 15.) How infinite is the goodness and mercy of God! He is not content with coming to seek us and to knock often at our door; "Behold," says he, in the Apocalypse, "howl stand at your door and knock?" (Ap. iii. 20); ​and in the Canticles, " Open, my sister, the door to me." (Cant, v. 2.) He is not content with all this, but as if he were tired of knocking, he sits down himself at our door, to let us know, that he would have entered before, had he not found it shut; and still, instead of going away and leaving us, he chooses rather to sit down and wait for us, that we may be sure of finding him as soon as we open the door. Though you have delayed to open your heart to God and to comply with his inspirations, yet he has not, on this account, gone away. He has too great a desire of entering, to be so easily repulsed ; and therefore he sits at the door and waits till you open. " The Lord waits," says Isaiah, " that he may shew mercy to you." (Is. xxx. 18.) And certainly no friend is so eager to visit an intimate friend, as God is to visit our hearts; he longs much more to communicate himself, and grant his favours to us, than we long to receive them ; the only thing he requires of us is, to hunger and thirst after them. " To him that thirsts I will give of the fountain of the water of life gratis." (Ap. xxi. 6.) " If any man, therefore, thirsts, let him come to me and drink." (John, vii. 37.) He would have us feel an earnest desire of acquiring virtue and perfection, that the object of our desires being granted, we may know how to esteem and preserve it as a most precious jewel. For in general, whatever is not earnestly wished for is, when obtained, not much esteemed. One of the principal reasons why we make so little progress in perfection is, because we do not desire and long for it so earnestly as we ought; we have some desires, it is true, but then they are so weak and languid that they vanish almost as soon as they are felt.
St. Bonaventure (Process, iv. Rel. c. 3) says, that there are many who intend well, and who conceive the best projects imaginable, yet have not courage enough to offer violence to themselves, and to overcome themselves as far as to carry their good projects into execution. Hence we may say of them what the apostle said of himself: " To will is present with me, but to accomplish that which is good, I find not." (Rom. vii. 18.) These projects without effect are not the productions of a resolute will, and to speak properly they are but mere velleities; in a word, we will, but we do not will effectually. t$ The slothful," says the Wise Man, " wills and does not will." (Prov. xiii. 4.) u His desires kill him, for his hands will not work at all. He spends himself all the day long in desires." (Ib. xxi. 25.) "He is a compound of desires," says St. Jerom; and Father Avila ​very justly compares him to those who, in their dreams, imagine they do great feats, but when they awake have not courage to undertake anything, as is said by the Prophet Isaiah: "He that is hungry sometimes dreams that he eats, but when he awakes, his soul is empty as before." (Isa. xxix. 8.) This description of persons fancy, while at prayer, that they burn with a desire of suffering, and of being despised, but on the first occasion that presents itself after prayer, they behave in a manner quite different from what they had fancied to themselves; for in fact, it was not a real desire, but a sort of dream they had at the time. By others they are compared to soldiers represented on the canvass, who always brandish their swords over the enemy's head, but never strike; and this is one of the senses wherein may be taken the following words of the Psalmist: " Men are like images" (Ps. xxxviii. 7) — they hold the arm always raised, but they strike not. Comparing them likewise to women in labour, who cannot be delivered, we may apply to them these words of Ezekias in Isaiah: " The children are come even to the birth, and the mothers have not strength to bring them forth." (Isa. xxxvii. 3.) St. Jerom, explaining these words of St. Matthew: " Wo to such as are with child and give suck in those days" (Matt. xxiv. 19), says, Wo to those souls that have not brought up their buds to the maturity of a perfect man — wo to those, who have not brought forth the good desires they had conceived, but who extinguish them in their breasts: for when we do not carry them into effect, do we not extinguish them? And wo to those who pass all their life in wishes, and are surprised by death, before they perform any good work. For then they will derive not only no advantage from having had those good desires, but they shall be severely punished for not having carried them into execution. In fine, they will see their own children they had conceived rise up against them, when, had they brought them forth, they might have derived great advantage from them.
Holy Scripture (2 Kings, xviii. 9) tells us, that Absalom had a most comely head of hair; but it only proved his ruin. For the bough of an oak having, in his flight, caught him by the hair, he hung between heaven and earth, and in that situation was killed by Joab. Death will surprise us in the same manner, while our good desires hold us, as it were, suspended; and these good desires will make, in part, the subject of our condemnation. St. John says ​in the Apocalypse (Apoc. xii. 4,) that he saw a woman in labour, and that there lay near her a horrible dragon, watching till she should be delivered, that he might devour the child. It is this the devil, with all his power, endeavours to do to us, whenever the soul has conceived a good design. We ought, therefore, be very careful to proceed,, as soon as we can, to the execution of any good resolution we have formed. St. Bernard says, that the prophet Isaiah meant the same thing, by the short and pithy sentence, "If you seek, seek" (Isa. xxi. 12); i.e., be not weary of desiring, be not weary of seeking, for true desires require fervour and perseverance: they must be fervent, they must be efficacious, they must, in fine, be such as, according to the prophet Micheas, may excite in us a continual care always to please God more and more: u I will shew you, O man," says he, what it is which is good, and what our Lord requires of you. It is to do justice, to love mercy, and to be careful to walk always with your God." (Mk. vi. 8.) Behold these are the desires he expects on our part, in order to bestow on us his graces and treasures. Happy are the souls that feel this hunger and thirst to be, of all things, the most urgent; for they shall be satiated and shall have all their desires most fully accomplished. We read in the Life of St. Gertrude, that our Saviour appearing one day to her, told her, that he had given to every good soul a golden tube, that through it they may imbibe from his sacred side as much grace as they could desire: and that golden tube, as he afterwards declared, was no other than a holy and upright will, whereby we draw down on ourselves all sorts of blessings from God.
CHAPTER IV.
The more we apply ourselves to Spiritual Things, the more earnestly shall we desire them.
"They that eat me shall yet hunger, and they that drink me shall yet thirst" (Ecclus. xxiv. 29), says the Holy Ghost, speaking of wisdom. St. Gregory says, there is this difference between the pleasures of the body, and the pleasures of the soul, that we desire the former with great impatience, when we have them not, and when we have possessed them, we set but little value on them. For example, in the world every man, accord ​ing to his birth, quality, and profession, longs very much for some civil, military, or ecclesiastical preferment. Scarce, however, does he obtain the object of his desire, when he begins to contemn it, and to fix his eyes on something else, which, when obtained, he is, in like manner, as soon weary of: in short, unable to regulate his ambition or to set bounds to his desires, he still gapes after something new, and never rests satisfied with what he has. But it is not so in spiritual things. For when we have them not, we feel for them disrelish and aversion; but when once we possess them, it is then we begin to know their value; it is then we set still higher value on them, and the more we taste them, the more earnestly we seek after them. The reason of this difference, says this great saint, is, that the enjoyment of temporal goods unfolds to us their vanity and emptiness; so that not finding in them the satisfaction we hoped for, we contemn what we possess; and expecting to find in something else the content we seek after, we suffer ourselves to be carried away by new desires. But still we deceive ourselves— these new desires will meet the same fate as the others. For, as we are not made for this world, there is in it nothing, which can fully satiate our appetite. This is what our Saviour taught the Samaritan woman, when he told her, " Whoever drinks of this water shall thirst again" (John, iv. 13); because all the pleasures of this life cannot quench the thirst of man, who is created for heaven. But as to spiritual goods and pleasures, we never love or desire them so much, as when we possess them; because then we best know their value, and the more perfectly we possess them, the greater is our desire and thirst after them. The same St. Gregory says, it is not to be wondered, that we do not desire spiritual things, when so far from having experienced how sweet they are, we have not even begun to taste them: "For how can any one love that he is ignorant of?" (Hom. 16.) The Apostle St. Peter also says, "If nevertheless you have tasted how sweet the Lord is" (1 Pet ii. 3) ; and the Royal Prophet, " Taste and see how sweet the Lord is." (Ps. xxxiii. 9.) Because when once we begin to taste the Lord, and to relish spiritual things, we shall experience such sweetness in them, as to render our desires of them insatiable. By these words, then, "those who eat me shall yet hunger, and those who drink me shall yet thirst," we must understand, that the more assiduously we apply ourselves to ​heavenly things, the more frequently and fervently shall we feel the desire of possessing them.
But you will ask me, how can this accord with what our Saviour says to the Samaritan, "He that shall drink of the water I shall give him shall never thirst"? (John, iv. 13.) Here the Son of God says that we shall never thirst, if we drink of the water he shall give ; and the Holy Ghost, by the mouth of the Wise Man, says, " That the more we drink, the more we shall thirst." How shall we reconcile one with the other such different assertions? The holy Fathers reply, that by the words of Jesus Christ to the Samaritan, we are to understand, that whoever drinks of the living water therein described, " shall never thirst after sensual pleasures;" because the sweetness of spiritual things will give him an absolute disrelish for things of the world, and will render them quite insipid. As when you have tasted honey, says St. Gregory,- everything else will seem sour and bitter; in like manner, when we have tasted God and spiritual things, all that savours of any affinity to and contagion of flesh and blood will become insipid and excite a loathing. But as to the words of the Wise Man, a Those who eat me shall yet hunger, and those who drink me shall yet thirst" (Ecclus. xxiv. 29), we must consider them to relate to spiritual things, and we must understand, that the more we taste them, the more we shall feel our hunger and thirst for them to increase. For being then come to a better knowledge of their worth, and having experienced their sweetness, we shall, in consequence, be impelled to be more zealous in seeking after them. It is thus the holy doctors reconcile these two passages.
But then, how can this accord with what our Saviour says again in the gospel, " Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice; because they shall be filled"? (Matt. v. 6.) Here he says that he will fill those who shall hunger and thirst after justice; and there the Wise Man assures us, that such as shall eat and drink of wisdom, shall always find the same hunger and thirst as before. Now, how is it possible that things so opposite can exist together? how is it possible to reconcile assertions so different? It is very easy to do it. It is the privilege and the excellence of spiritual things to satisfy, and at the same time, to excite our appetite; to quench, and still to excite our thirst; and in a word, to cause, that the more we eat and drink of them, the more we hunger and thirst after them. But then it is a hunger, which, instead of making us faint and weak, renders us ​strong and hearty; and it is a thirst, which, instead of pain, imparts great pleasure to us. It is true, that it is only in heaven we shall be perfectly satisfied, according to these words, " I shall be satisfied when I shall see thee in thy glory" (Ps. xvi. 15) ; and these others, " They shall be inebriated with the plenty of thy house." (Ps, xxxv. 9.) However, the above words of the Wise Man must be understood according to the interpretation of St. Bernard, who says, we shall never be in such manner satisfied with the sight of God as to be without a desire of, and thirst after his sight; because, instead of giving us disgust, it will excite in us perpetually a new desire of seeing and enjoying him. In the Apocalypse, St. John, speaking of the blessed who assisted at the throne, and before the Lamb, says, "That they sung as it were a new song." (Apoc. xiv. 3.) This is to show us, that this song will always contain, something new, and will excite in us new joy, and new admiration, which will make ua continually cry out, as the children of Israel did in first seeing the manna fall in the desert, "Manhu?" that is to say, "What is this?" It is just so with spiritual things here below ; for being an emanation from those above, they, in consequence, participate of their qualities and virtue. On the one hand they satisfy and fill our hearts, and on the other, they excite in us extreme hunger and thirst. The more we devote ourselves to them, the more we relish them; and the more we enjoy them, the more we continually hunger and thirst after them. But then this very hanger will be a kind of satiety, and this thirst a most sweet and agreeable refreshment to the soul. All this ought to excite in us a high idea of spiritual things; it ought to make us set a great value on them, and devote ourselves to them with such zeal and fervour, that regardless of, and scorning all the allurements and vanities of this world, we may say with the prince of the apostles, " Lord, it is good for us to be here." (Matt. xvii. 4.)
CHAPTER V.
That the Desire a Man has of becoming perfect in Virtue, is a great Mark that he is in a State of Grace.
What ought urge us to wish still more ardently for our advancement in perfection, and to renew our efforts to please God daily still more and more, and what ought, at the same time, to be of ​very great consolation to us, is that there can be no mark more certain than this of God's dwelling in a soul, and of the good state it is in. St. Bernard says, that there is no more certain mark of God being present in a man's heart, than the desire of still increasing in grace, and he proves it by the saying of the Wise Man, already quoted, " Those that eat me shall still hunger, and those that drink me shall still thirst." If then you hunger and thirst for heavenly things, rejoice, since it is an evident sign that God dwells in your soul. It is he who excites in you this hunger and thirst; and you have certainly found the true vein of this precious mine, because you constantly adhere so closely to it. As the terrier, whilst he meets nothing, beats the field without spirit, but on finding the scent, pursues eagerly, and stops not till he runs down the game; in like manner whoever tastes the sweetness of the divine odour runs after it without ceasing, and cries out with the spouse in the Canticles, " Draw me after thee, we will run in the odour of thy divine perfumes." (Cant. i. 3.) It is God who is within you that draws you thus after him. But if you feel not this kind of hunger and thirst, you may justly fear that God dwells not in your heart; for, as we have already said after St. Gregory, ft is peculiar to spiritual things, that when we do not possess them, we love them not, and are no ways concerned about them.
St. Bernard said he trembled, and his hair stood of an end, as often as he reflected on these words of the Holy Ghost, uttered bjr the mouth of the Wise Man, " Man knows not whether he deserves love or hatred." (Eccles. ix. 1 .) This passage is terrible, says this great saint, and I shook with horror as often as I thought on it; never without trembling repeating that sentence, " Who knows whether he deserves love or hatred?" (Serm. 23 on the Cant.) If then this reflection made a great saint tremble, who was, as it were, a living pillar of the Church, what effect ought it to have on us, who, on account of our sins, have so many causes of fear, "who carry within us the answer of death "? (2 Cor. i. 9.) I am certain I have offended God, but am ignorant whether or not he has forgiven me; who would not tremble on making this reflection? But if we could possibly be assured that our sins were remitted, and that we are in God's grace; if we could find a certainty of this, what value ought we not set on it? For though without a particular revelation from God, we cannot have in this life an infallible certainty that we are in the state of grace, yet there are signs that give a moral probability of it, and the surest ​mark we can have is to feel in our hearts an ardent desire of daily perfecting ourselves more and more in virtue. So that there can be no need of any motive but this to urge us to cherish this desire, since it gives us, in some measure, an assurance that we are in the state of grace, than which nothing in this life can be of greater consolation.
This may be easily confirmed by what the Holy Ghost says in the Proverbs: 11 The ways of the just are like the sun that rises, and increases both in light and heat till mid-day." (Prov. iv. 18 ) The farther they proceed, the more they increase in virtue, and to use the words of St. Bernard, the just man never believes that he has fully performed his duty; he never says it is enough, but always hungers and thirsts after justice; so that if he were to live here always, he would perpetually strive to become more just and more perfect, and to advance always from good to better. (Ep. 253 to Ab. Gaurin.) Again it is written of the just, " they shall proceed from virtue to virtue" (Ps. lxxxiii. 8); i.e. they shall continually increase in fervour, and advance in virtue without stopping till they ascend the height of perfection. But the way of the tepid, the imperfect, and the wicked, is like unto the light of the evening, which, decreasing every moment, at length disappears, and leaves us in the darkness of night. "The way of the wicked," says the Wise Man, " is full of darkness, so that they cannot see the precipices into which they fall." (Prov.iv. 19.) They stumble every step they take. Their confusion is so great, and their blindness so deplorable, that they see not their faults, and feel no remorse for them. On the contrary, judging of sins according to their fancy, they will not believe that to be a sin which is so in reality, and will often think that to be but venial which is mortal; nay, will consider it to be nothing more than a trivial imperfection.
CHAPTER VI.
That not to advance in Virtue is to go back.
It is a maxim received by all holy men, that in the way of God we certainly go back, if we do not advance. This is the point I intend to demonstrate here, that it may be a powerful motive to encourage us daily to make new progress in perfection. For what man is there, that, after having travelled homeward ​several days, would feel inclined to go back, particularly when he calls to mind the sentence the Saviour of the world pronounces against him, " Whosoever puts his hand to the plough and looks back is not fit for the kingdom of heaven?" (Luke, ix. 62.) These are the words which should make us tremble; and the great St. Austin, upon this occasion, says, we cannot possibly prevent ourselves from descending, but by always striving to ascend; for as soon as we begin to stop, we descend, and not to advance, is to go back; so that if we wish not to go back, we must always run forward without stopping. (Ep. 113 to Dem. V) St. Gregory, St. Chrysostom, St. Leo Pope, and many other saints, say the same, and express themselves almost m in the same terms. But St. Bernard enlarges on this subject in two of his epistles, wherein addressing himself to a negligent and tepid religious, who contents himself with leading an ordinary life, and struggles not for his advancement, he thus discourses with him in the following dialogue: Well! will you not advance? No. What then? Will you go back? By no means. What will you do then? I will remain as I am, and grow neither better nor worse. Then you will do what is impossible, for in this life there can be no state of permanency. This is a privilege appertaining to God alone, "With whom there is no change nor the least shadow of vicissitude." (Jas. i. 17.) "I am the Lord," says he, "and I do not change." (Mai. iii. 6.) But all things in this world are subject to a perpetual change. " All shall grow old like a garment," says the Psalmist, speaking of the heavens, " and as a garment thou shalt change them; but as for thee, O Lord! thou art always the self-same, and thy years shall not fail." (Ps. ci. 28.) Man, above all, according to the testimony of holy Job, is never long' in the same condition; " He passeth like a shadow, and never continueth in the same state." (Job,xiv.2.) Jesus Christ himself, as St. Bernard adds, as long as he lived here on earth and conversed with man, was never stationary; "He grew in wisdom, age, and favour, before God and men." (Luke, ii. 52.) That is to say, that as he grew in age, he gave more signal proofs of his wisdom and holiness, " And prepared himself as a champion to run his race" (Ps.xviii.7) of labour and sufferings. St. John also declares, that "Whoever saith he abideth in him ought himself also to walk even as he walked." (1 John, ii. 6.) But if, while our Saviour runs on, you stop, is it not clear that you will remain behind him instead of approaching near him? ​Holy Scripture (Gen. xxviii. 12) tells us that Jacob saw a ladder reaching from earth to heaven, on the top of which Almighty God leaned, and that it was full of angels ascending and descending perpetually without ever resting. Now, according to St. Bernard, this is to show us, that in the way of virtue, there is no medium between ascending and descending, between advancing and going back. But as when we work at the lathe, the wheel flies back when we wish to stop it, even so, the very moment you cease to advance in virtue, you must of necessity go back. Abbot Theodore explains the same thought in these terms related by Cassian (Cas. Collat. vi.): We must, says he, apply ourselves without remissness to the study of virtue, and strenuously exert ourselves in the practice thereof, lest ceasing to grow better, we should instantly begin to grow less perfect; for, as was already said, our souls cannot remain long in the same state, so as not to increase or decrease in virtue; but not to gain is to lose, and whoever feels not in himself a desire of making progress is in danger of falling instantly.
The same Cassian explains this by a very just comparison, which St. Gregory (Greg. iii. 2. past. adm. 51.) likewise makes use of. Those who lead a spiritual life, says he, are like, a man in the midst of a rapid river; if he stops but for a moment, and strives not continually to bear up against the stream, he will run great risk of being carried down. Now the course we ought to take is so directly opposite to the current of our nature corrupted by sin, that unless we labour and force ourselves to go on, we shall certainly be hurried back by the impetuous torrent of our passions.
" The kingdom of heaven is to be taken by storm, and it is only the violent that carry it." (Matt. xi. 12.) And, as when you go against the tide, you must always row without ceasing, and when you stop but for a while, you find yourself drifted far from the spot you had rowed to; so here you must still push forward, and make head against the current of your depraved passions, unless you be content to see yourself quickly carried far back from that degree of perfection which you had before attained. St. Jerom and St. Chrysostom elucidate this truth still more by quoting a point of doctrine universally approved of, and which is stated by St. Thomas (St. Th. ii. 2. 9. 84. ar. 5. ad. 2.) in the following words: A religious life, says he, is a state of perfection: not that a man becomes perfect as soon as he becomes a religious, but because religious have a more strict ​obligation of aspiring to perfection; and because he who strives not to become perfect, and who does not apply himself in good earnest to it, cannot be said to be a true religious,, as he does not do the only thing for which he should have embraced that profession. I will not here discuss the question, whether a religious would sin mortally who should say, "I content myself with being faithful to the commandments of God and to my essential vows; but as for other rules not binding under pain of sin, I design not to observe them." My intention, I say, is not to decide this point, as it is a disputed question. Some divines maintain that he would sin mortally; others say he would not. unless he acts through some kind of contempt on the occasion. But what is certain, and what they all agree in, is, that a religious in such a disposition of mind, and who would make such a resolution, would give very bad example, and, morally speaking, would be in great danger of falling into mortal sin. " For he that despiseth small things will by little and little fall into great." (Ecclus. xix. 1.)
To explain this the more clearly, St. Chrysostom gives several familiar examples: If a servant, says he, were not a thief nor drunkard, nor gamester, but trusty, sober, and without vice; yet, if he should idle his time, sit down all day, without performing the duties of his state, there is no doubt, but he would deserve to be severely punished; for though he did no positive harm, yet it is fault enough to neglect what he ought to do. Again, if a husbandman, though exceedingly well conducted in every other respect, should nevertheless stand with his arms across, and neither plough nor sow, it is certain, though he did no other harm, he would, on this account alone, be culpable; for it is fault enough to neglect one's duty. In fine, if one of our hands gave us no pain, but were paralytic, and absolutely of no use to us, should we not consider that circumstance alone to be of great detriment? It is just so in spiritual matters. If a religious remains idle — if he makes no effort to advance in virtue, he is much to be blamed, because he fulfils not the obligations of his profession. To conclude, what greater fault can we find with land, than that it is barren and bears no crop, though it had been well tilled? In the same manner, if land, like your soul continually cultivated by so many good instructions, watered by frequent showers of heavenly graces, and warmed by the rays of the sun of justice, produces no fruit, but remains dry and barren, will you not think that dryness and barrenness a great ​misfortune to yourself? It is of this the Psalmist complains, when he says, " They returned me evil for good, and afforded me nothing but barrenness." (Ps. xxxiv. 14.)
Another comparison is also made use of, which suits the present purpose, and strongly confirms what has been already said. As sailors on the main ocean dread nothing so much as a calm, because then they consume all their provisions, and afterwards feel themselves in want of the necessaries of life; so by those who navigate the tempestuous sea of the world, and steer towards heaven, there is nothing more to be dreaded than an unhappy calm, which stops them in the midst of their course, and prevents them from making sail. Because the small provision they had laid in for their voyage is soon consumed, and the little virtue they had begins to fail them; and afterwards amidst the storms and temptations which assail them on all sides, they find themselves, even in their deepest distress, destitute of all help, and in the greatest danger of perishing. Wo to such as are surprised by a calm so dangerous. " You did once run well," says the apostle, " who has hindered you from obeying the truth?" (Gal. v. 7.) You went at first in full sail, what calm or sand-bank has stopped you? Certainly " you are satiated, you are become rich." (1 Cor. iv. 8.) You fancy you have done enough; feeling yourself tired, you think yourself entitled to repose; you imagine that your present stock is sufficient. But reflect and consider well, that you have still a great way to go, for " that part of your journey that still remains is very long." (3 Kings, xix. 7.) Be persuaded that many occasions will still offer, wherein you will have need of more perfect humility, more courageous patience, more absolute detachment, and more constant mortification; and perchance you will be surprised and found unprovided, at the time of your greatest distress.
CHAPTER VII.
That a good Means of attaining Perfection is to continually think on what we are deficient in — without thinking on what we have acquired.
"Let him that is just become still more just, and let him that is holy become still more holy." (Apoc. xxii. 13.) St. Jerom and venerable Bede tell us, that our Saviour in saying, " Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after justice, for they shall be filled," ​wished to teach us, that we must never think we are just enough, but must always aspire to greater justice, as St John recommends in the above passage. To this effect, St. Paul proposes to us an excellent means, he himself had made use of. "Brethren," says he, " I do not count myself to have apprehended. But one thing I do; forgetting the things that are behind, and stretching forth myself to those that are before, I pursue towards the mark for the prize of the supernal vocation of God in Christ Jesus." (Phil. iii. 13.) If, then, the apostle of the Gentiles, the vessel of election, does not believe himself perfect, who will dare think himself so? He believes not that he has attained perfection, but endeavours all he possibly can, to acquire it For this purpose, he forgets all he has done, and only looks to what he is deficient in, and it is to obtain this, that he excites and encourages himself with all his might All the saints have very much extolled and earnestly recommended this means as having been prescribed and recommended by the apostle. Hence St. Basil and St. Jerom teach, that whoever wishes to be a saint, must forget what he has done, and constantly think on what he has still to do, and that he is truly happy who advances daily, and who never thinks on what he did yesterday, but what he has to do to-day in order to make new progress.
But St. Gregory and St. Bernard descend more to particulars, and say, that this means prescribed by St. Paul consists of two principal parts. The first is to forget the good we have done, and never to look back at it Certainly we stand much in need of this warning in particular 4 for it is very natural in us to cast our eyes on what is pleasing, and to turn them away from what may be displeasing. Hence taking pleasure in looking at our improvement, and the good we fancy we have done; and on the contrary, feeling it painful to think on our spiritual wants and poverty, we are inclined to dwell rather on the former, than on the latter. St. Gregory says, that as a sick man in a burning fever, is always searching for the coolest and softest part of his bed to find a little ease, even so human weakness ordinarily fixes its eye on the good it has done. But St. Bernard says, that there is extreme danger in this. For if you look only to the good works you have done, you will readily yield to vain glory, preferring yourself to others; you will not endeavour to ascend, believing yourself already arrived at a high degree of perfection. In a word, you will begin to grow tepid, and from ​tepidity falling into negligence, yon will quickly bring on your ruin. The example of the Pharisee in the gospel shows us plainly what must befall those who act in this manner. He casts his eyes on the good works he had done, and then enumerating them, he says, " I thank thee, O God, that I am not as the rest of men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or such as this publican. I fast twice in the week: I give tithes of all that I possess. And the publican standing afar off would not do so much as lift up his eyes to heaven: but striking his breast, saying, O God be merciful to me a sinner. I declare to you," says our Saviour, "this man went down to his house more justified than the other." (Luke, xviii..l 1, 14.) Thus we see the one by humbling himself was justified, while the other by his criminal presumption drew upon himself the sentence of his condemnation and of his death. This is the plan the devil has formed against us. By always representing to us the good we have done, his design is to instil into us an high esteem of ourselves, and a contempt of our neighbour, that by yielding to pride, we may bring on our own condemnation.
There is still another danger, as St. Bernard says, in looking back on the good we have done. For we will, in consequence, make no effort to advance; we will grow cold in the business of heaven, and at length fancying that we have done enough, we will think only on resting ourselves. As travellers when they begin to grow weary, look behind and consider the journey they have made; just so when those on the road of perfection begin to get tired, they look back to the journey they have made, and imagining they have advanced a great deal, they content themselves, and through shameful sloth, stop half way.
In order to avoid these inconveniences, we must always think not on what we have already done, but on what still remains to be done. For the former tempts us to stop, while the latter incites us to go on with our work. This is the second branch of the means the apostle teaches us — to have our eyes fixed on what we are deficient in, that we may be encouraged to attain it St. Gregory explains this by several familiar comparisons, and says, that as a man who owes a thousand crowns does not think his debt discharged by his having paid three or four hundred, but still reflects on what he is still to pay, and cannot be at ease till he has fully satisfied his creditor, so we, who are deeply indebted to Almighty God, ought not to reckon upon what we have paid, but always consider what we are still to pay in order to satisfy the debt that ​remains, and mind nothing else than applying ourselves continually to find out the means of doing so. Again as men on a road, who travel with a firm resolution of arriving at their journey's end, never look back to see how many miles they have already gone, but consider how far they have yet to go, and think of nothing else till they arrive at the destined place: in like manner, we, who are travellers in this world, and purpose to go to heaven, our native country, ought not to consider how far we have gone, but how far we have yet to go, and how to get thither. When a man, adds he, undertakes a journey to any place, it avails him nothing to have gone a great way, unless he continues to go on till he comes to his journey's end, because it is only at his arrival there he can expect the recompense of all his labour. It is therefore of no avail, that you run well at first, if you get tired in the middle of your course; and hence the apostle counsels us—" Run so as you may carry the prize." (I Cor. ix. 24.) Never look back upon the space you have left behind, but keep your eyes fixed upon the goal you aim at. Consider that it is perfection you ought to aspire to, and think how Car you have yet to go to arrive there, and, in consequence, you will make haste still to advance; for, as Chrysostom says, a man never ceases to run whilst he thinks he is not yet arrived at the end of his journey.
St Bernard says, that we ought to imitate merchants, who, though they have acquired considerable property and encountered much hardship and pain, yet so far from being content with their gain or discouraged by their losses, constantly endeavour to acquire additional property, as if hitherto they had neither done nor gained anything. It is in the same manner, says he, we ought constantly endeavour to increase our store, and to enrich ourselves in humility, charity, mortification, and in all the virtues; and, in a word, like good merchants for heaven, we ought make no account of the slight pains we have hitherto felt nor of the riches we have acquired. It is for this reason our blessed Saviour, in St. Matthew, compares the kingdom of heaven to a merchant, and commands us, " To traffic till he comes." (Luke, xix. 13.)
And the better to explain this example proposed by our Saviour himself, you must observe what great care the merchant always takes not to lose any opportunity of gaining. Let your conduct be the' same as his. Lose no opportunity of making some new progress in virtue, and as St. Ignatius says, " Let us encourage one the other never to lose any degree of perfection, which, by the mercy of God, it is in our power to attain." (Reg. 15. Sum.) ​Suffer nothing to escape without endeavouring to derive some advantage from it. An angry word is said to you; you are commanded to do something against your will; an opportunity of humbling yourself is offered — from all these things, if made proper use of, you will derive considerable advantage. We ought to seek after occasions of this nature, and purchase them at any price: and as a merchant never lies down with more satisfaction than after the day on which he made several good and advantageous bargains; so a religious ought to think that he never succeeds better in his profession, and ought never to go to bed with more comfort, than after the day whereon he met with many occasions of exercising his humility and patience. A merchant is no ways troubled at the losses of another, nor is he angry with him upon this account, but thinks and often reflects with joy on his own particular gain: in like manner, a religious ought never examine whether another did well or ill in giving him the mortification he received, nor be angry with him for it, but he ought to rejoice at the particular advantage he derived therefrom. If we acted in this manner, we would not so readily lose our peace of mind on such occasions. For when those very things which of their own nature are capable of depriving us of it, and exciting discontent in us, are the only things we seek after and desire, what can happen, that can ever disturb our peace, or cause us any affliction of mind?
Consider, moreover, with what great care and industry the merchant applies to everything which can promote his own interest; how he thinks of nothing else, and how ardently he undertakes any affair wherein there is the least appearance or hope of gain: whether he is at table; whether he lies down or gets up; whether he is asleep or awake; in fine, wheresoever he is, or whatsoever he does, that affair alone engages his thoughts and allows him not to enjoy repose. In the same manner we must proceed in the affair of our salvation, having our mind and heart entirely engaged with it; and we should be ever attentive to derive some spiritual profit from every even the least occasion that presents itself. This is the thought which should always accompany us, at table, at our going to bed, and getting up; in all our actions and in all our exercises, at all times, and in all places during our whole life. This is our only business. If we do this well, we need desire nothing more, and in fact, it is not worth our while to trouble ourselves even for a moment about everything else. To all this St. Bonaventure (B. II. Rel. Prof. c. i.) adds, that as a good ​merchant never finds in one country all he wants, but often travels into different countries to find many things; even so a religious ought to seek for his spiritual advancement not only in prayer, meditation, and interior consolations, but also in resisting temptations, in mortifying his senses, in suffering injuries, pain, and labour, and in discharging his duty on all occasions that present themselves.
If we seek, in this manner, after virtue, we shall be rich in a short time. " If you seek for wisdom," says Solomon, " as men seek for riches; and if you dig for it, as you would to find a treasure, you shall then know what is the fear of the Lord, and you shall learn the true science of God." (Prov. ii. 4, 5.) What God demands of us here, says St. Bernard, is not much; since for gaining the treasure of true wisdom, which is God himself, he requires no more exertion on our part than is usually made to gain earthly riches which are subject to a thousand accidents, and whereof the enjoyment is so short and so troublesome. To keep, then, a proportion in things, were it not proper, that as there is an infinite difference between spiritual and temporal goods, so there should also be as great a difference between our manner of seeking the one and that of our seeking the other. It is also a great shame and confusion to us, that worldly men desire those things that are pernicious to them with more earnestness than we desire those things that are of the greatest advantage, and that they run faster to death, than we do to life.
It is set down in Ecclesiastical History (Part II. B. VI. c. i.) that the holy Abbot Pambo going one day to Alexandria, and meeting with a courtezan very finely dressed, began to weep bitterly, crying out several times: Alas! what a wretched man I am! And his disciples having asked him, why he wept so bitterly? he answered: Would you not have me weep to see this unfortunate woman take more care and diligence to please men, than I do to please God; and to see her take more pains to lay snares for men, in order to drag them into hell, than I use endeavours to gain them to Jesus Christ, and to conduct them to heaven? We read also of St. Francis Xaverius that he was ashamed and extremely troubled on seeing that merchants had arrived before him in Japan, and that they had been more diligent to sail thither to sell their merchandise, than he had been to carry thither the treasures of the gospel, to propagate the faith, and to increase the kingdom of God. Let us adopt ​the same sentiments, and be filled with a holy confusion, on seeing, " That the children of this world are wiser" (Luke, xvi. 8), and more careful in the concerns of this life, than we are in the affairs of heaven, and let this prevent us from remaining any longer in our sloth and tepidity.
CHAPTER VIII.
To aim at the highest Things, is very conducive to the Attainment of Perfection.
It will conduce much to our spiritual advancement, that we propose to ourselves as objects the highest things, and such as are of more exquisite perfection, according to the counsel of the apostle, " Be zealous for the better gifts. And I yet shew to you a more excellent way." (I Cor. xii. 31.) This means is without doubt of very great importance; for our desires must necessarily soar high, if we wish to elevate our actions to that perfection, with which even our indispensable duties should be performed. This may be easily explained by a familiar comparison: when your bow is too feebly bent, you will never be able to hit the mark unless you aim considerably higher; because the looseness of the string gives to the arrow a downward direction. It is precisely so with us. Our nature is so feeble, and we are so relaxed by the evil habits we have contracted, that we must take our aim considerably higher than the mark, if we wish to reach it. Man is become so weak by sin, that to attain an ordinary degree of virtue, his thoughts and desires must soar much higher. But some will say, " All I propose is to avoid mortal sin: this is the only perfection I aspire to." It is much to be feared, that you will not reach this point you propose to yourself, for the string is slack. Perhaps you would have reached this point, had you directed your thoughts higher; but not having done so, it is probable you will never reach it, and it is very probable you will fall into mortal sin. The religious who intends not only to keep the commandments of God, but likewise endeavours to follow his counsels — the religious who purposes to avoid not only mortal, but also venial sins, and even the least imperfections, as much as he can, adopts a good means of not falling into mortal sin, because he takes his aim considerably higher; and though his frailty should ​hinder him from attaining the proposed object, yet at most he will fail only in something of counsel, in an unimportant rule, slight imperfection or venial sin. But he whose object is only not to offend God mortally, will doubtless fall into some mortal 6in, if his bow is even in the slightest degree slackened, and if he fails to point at the object. It is thus that seculars fall so repeatedly into most grievous sins, and good religious are by the mercy of God preserved from them. And certainly were there no other advantage in religion, this alone would suffice to comfort us, and should urge us continually to thank the divine goodness for having called us thereunto. For to conclude, I hope, that, by the grace of God, you will pass your whole life here without mortal sin, whereas if you had lived in the world, perhaps you would pass scarcely one year, month, or week; no, not even one day or hour without falling into it.
Hence you may easily infer what danger the tepid religious is in, who scruples not the breaking of his rules, and who is not solicitous to aspire to perfection. It is very difficult for him to retain these sentiments, without being exposed to the danger of committing some great crime. But if you desire to improve in virtue, propose to yourself, for example, to acquire humility so perfect, that you may be able to receive contempts and injuries with joy; and after all this, God grant, you will be able to support them with patience. Resolve with yourself to make an entire submission of your will and understanding to everything ordained by your superiors; and God grant that, even after this resolution, you will not fail in the duty of obedience, and in the exactness it requires. In fine, resolve to be perfectly resigned on occasions the most arduous and extraordinary; and you will do not a little, by manifesting this resignation, when even the most easy and common trials occur.
It was well contrived by Almighty God, says St. Austin (Lib. de Perf. torn, vii.), to place the greatest and most perfect of his commandments at the head of all the rest. " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, with thy whole soul, with thy whole strength, and with thy whole mind." (Luke, x. 27.) This is the greatest and first commandment." (Matt. xxii. 38) This is the end for which the rest were given us, according to the words of the apostle: " The end of the precept is charity" (1 Tim. i. 5); and the excellence of this commandment is such, that the fathers and divines are of opinion, it is only in the other life we shall be able to fulfil it perfectly. For to have our hearts ​and minds wholly taken up with God, to be continually absorbed in him, and to employ all the powers of our soul in only loving and adoring him, is what cannot be well done by us but in heaven. In this life the weakness of our nature, and the necessity of supplying the wants of the body, hinder us from attaining so high a degree of perfection. However, though this commandment is the consummation of all the rest, yet God has vouchsafed to place it at the head of them all, that, at first sight, we may know what we ought to aspire to, and how far we must endeavour to advance. "Why," says St. Austin, "are we commanded to love God with all our heart, which is a command we cannot fully perform in this life? It is because a man never runs well, if he knows not how far he has to go." (Lib. de Perf. torn, vii.) Almighty God has set immediately before our eyes the greatest of all the commandments, that aiming at an object so sublime, at perfection so complete, we may constantly endeavour to reach it; and if, through weakness, we are unable to reach, the higher we aim, the nearer shall we approach the object. St. Jerom explaining these words of the Psalmist: " Blessed is the man, O Lord, whose help is from thee; his heart is always thinking how to raise itself higher and higher " ( Ps. lxxxiii. 6); says, the just man's heart is always towering aloft, and the sinner's heart is perpetually sinking. The just man has his eyes continually raised to the things most sublime in virtue; he aspires to increase in perfection; and it is this he perpetually thinks on, according to the saying of the Wise Man: " The thoughts of the strong are always carried to an abundant increase." (Prov. Xxi. 5.) But no thought is less present to the mind of the sinner than this; he is content to live like the rest of the world; at the utmost he proposes to himself but an ordinary degree of virtue, he grows tepid, his spirits sink, and he attains not his object. This, says Gerson (Gers. 3, p. Tract, de Myst. indust. seu consid. 4), is the language used by many: It is enough for me to live as people in general live; I desire only to be saved; the sovereign degree of perfection and glory I leave to the apostles and martyrs; I do not pretend to soar so high, but am content to walk upon the plain ground. Such is the language of sinners and imperfect men, who, in number, far exceed the just and perfect: "For many are called," says our Saviour, " but few are chosen." (Matt, xx. 16.) "And wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there are who enter by it. How narrow is the gate and strait is the way, which leadeth to life, and few there are who find it." (Matt. vii. 13.) St. Austin, speaking of such as walk on ​the broad beaten way of a loose life, says that those are the men whom the prophet calls " beasts of the field" (in Ps. viii.), because they always range in a spacious place, and will not be confined by rule or discipline. And Gerson says, that by this kind of language, " It is enough for me to live as others do; if I be but saved it is sufficient; I aspire to no greater perfection a man readily manifests the imperfect and bad state of his own interior, since he is not willing to enter by the narrow gate. He adds, moreover, that persons who, through sloth and tepidity, think it sufficient to obtain the lowest seat in heaven, have great reason to fear that they will be condemned with the foolish virgins who fell asleep without having made any provision, or with the negligent servant who buried the talent he had received, and took no pains to improve it. He was cast into exterior darkness, and we read not in the gospel, that he was condemned for anything else, than for having neglected the talent his master had entrusted him with.
But to put the shameful and deplorable state of these men in a still clearer point of view, the same Gerson advances this example. Image to yourself, says he, the father of a family, rich, noble, having many children, each of whom is qualified to promote the interest and honour of the family. All apply with zeal to the performance of their respective duties except one, who, through sloth, leads a loose and shameful life, though, provided he did but apply himself, he is as well qualified as the rest for performing virtuous actions. Still he does nothing worthy his birth and talents, but contents himself, as he says, with a small fortune, and since he has wherewith to live at ease, he will take no pains to increase his property, nor will he trouble his mind with projects of ambition. His father calls upon him, exhorts, entreats him to adopt nobler sentiments, reminds him of his good qualities and noble birth, proposes to him the example of his ancestors and of the rest of his brothers; but when he sees that notwithstanding all he does, he cannot prevail on him to rise out of his sloth, and to lead an active life, he must needs conceive against him a very just indignation. It is the same with God. We are all his children and brothers of Jesus Christ. He would not have us content ourselves with an idle life, but exhorts us to perfection in these words: " Be ye therefore perfect as your heavenly Father." (Matt. v. 48.) Consider how holy and perfect he is; think on what your birth obliges you to, and endeavour to shew by your actions, that you are the true children of such a father; take examples from your brothers also, and if you will, look upon your eldest brother Jesus Christ, who most freely gave his ​blood and life to repair the losses felt by all our race, and to restore it to its former splendour. But if so great an example dazzles you, look upon your other brothers who are as feeble as yourself, born in sin as you were, subject to passions, temptations, and evil inclinations as you are. They fought against them constantly; they conquered, and they gained a crown of glory; and our mother the Church proposes these examples to you, and celebrates their feasts in order to encourage you to imitate them. And if you wish to have set before your eyes the example of those still nearer to you, consider your brethren, who were born in the bosom of the same mother you were, i. e., who were of the same order you are of; look upon St. Ignatius, St. Xaverius, St. Francis of Borgia, the great Edmund Campian, and so many others who flourished in the society. Endeavour all you can to imitate them, and do not be a dishonour to your race and society. He that with all these motives cannot be encouraged to perform extraordinary acts of virtue, but will continue to live in the ordinary way, is it not true that he gives just cause of indignation to his Father, who i3 God himself, and great occasion of scandal to his brethren, and deserves that his heavenly Father should disown him, and his brothers not acknowledge him?
For this reason, therefore, we say it is necessary for us to direct our thoughts high; to raise our eyes and hearts to sublime things, that if unable, through weakness, to reach them, we may not at least be kept back at so great a distance from them. Let us act on this occasion like merchants who ask a great deal more than it is worth, to induce the buyers to give the value of the article; or like referees, who, to bring the parties at variance to a reasonable settlement, demand at first too much, that they may obtain only what is equitable. But what I desire you to demand is not too much; it is just and moderate. Ever keep your eye fixed on it, that you may at least obtain what is absolutely necessary. Propose to yourself the attainment of great treasures, that you may be able to acquire a competency. For if you propose to yourself at first only what is' of little value, you will be far from acquiring it.
By this discourse we easily see how important it is, that in our spiritual exhortations we speak of that only which is perfect in a sovereign degree. If we preach, for example, on humility, it must be that humility which is most profound, and which reaches to contempt of one's self. If we preach on mortification, it must be on that which subjects all our passions to reason; if we preach on ​conforming our will to God, we must recommend a conformity which leaves us no will but that of the Almighty, which resigns our will entirely to his, and which establishes all its content and joy in the accomplishment of the divine will. In fine, with respect to all the virtues, we must convey of them the noblest idea, and elevate them to the highest point possible. But why, it will be said, recommend the highest degree of virtue to weak persons who are as yet but novices in spiritual matters? If you propose to them things proportionate to their strength, and such as are easily reduced to practice, and within their reach, they will very probably embrace them; but this sublime perfection, you propose, ravishes men to the third heaven, and is proper only for a St. Paul, and for some other few saints whom God has particularly chosen in order to raise them to the highest degree of glory and perfection. But you are exceedingly mistaken in this point; for an exhortation of this nature is better adapted to you than to them, and ought to be addressed to you for the very reason you allege against it: you say you are weak, and that I ought not propose to you such high things as you are not yet able to attain. I answer, because you are weak, I must propose to you the most perfect kind of virtue and devotion, that by your aiming at what is best, you may be able to perform at least what is of strict obligation. For this purpose, it would be much to your advantage to read the lives of saints, and to observe the most distinguished virtues wherein they excelled; for, without doubt, the intention of holy Church in proposing to us their heroic actions is to invite us by their example to rouse ourselves, and at least to shake off the sloth and stupid lethargy which have seized us, if we have not sufficient courage and resolution to imitate them in their austere and holy life. There is also another advantage derived from reading the lives of saints, which is, that considering their great purity, and how far we come short of it, we may feel confusion, and have just reason for humbling ourselves. This is the opinion of the great St. Gregory, who, explaining those words of Job, " He will look upon other men, and then will say, I have sinned" (Job, xxxiii. 27), says, that as a poor man is much more sensible of his own poverty, when he considers the immense treasures of rich men; so the soul humbles herself more lowly, acknowledges her own indigence with more reason, when she reflects upon the great examples set us by the saints, and the glorious actions they have performed. St. Jerom reports that St. Anthony went to visit St. Paul the first hermit, and admiring the holiness of his life, at his return, being asked by his disciples where he had ​been? " Alas," replied the holy man, " miserable sinner that I am! I have no right to bear the name of a religious; I have seen an Elias, I have seen a St. John the Baptist in the desert, when I beheld Paul in his solitude." We read also of the great St. Macarius, that having seen the sublime perfection of some holy hermits whom he had visited, the blessed man wept, saying to his disciples, " I have seen a real and true religious; but as for me, I deserve not the name of a religious." What these great saints said out of pure humility, we may say with a great deal of truth, when we consider the example set by themselves, and by many others who lived before and since their time. Let us then seriously reflect on the great perfection they attained, that we may be encouraged either to make efforts similar to theirs, or if our strength tails, that the confusion and shame we must justly feel for being so tardy, may, in some measure, supply what is defective by reason of our frailty; and thus, at all events, the means I here propose cannot but prove of exceeding great advantage.
CHAPTER IX.
How important it is not to neglect the smallest Things.
"He that contemneth small things," as it is said in Ecclesiasticus, "shall fall by little and little." (Ecclus. xix. 1.) The doctrine contained in these words is of great importance to all persons, especially to those who aspire to perfection: for we are exact in the performance of great things, as they carry with themselves their own recommendation; but it is very usual with us to be careless in small things, as we fancy they are of no great consequence. In this, however, we deceive ourselves, because it is very dangerous to neglect and fail in these things; and therefore the Holy Ghost in this passage of Scripture declares to us, " That he who contemns small things, shall fall by little and little." To convince us then of this truth, and to oblige us to be watchful, it ought to be sufficient that God himself says so: but in order that this may make a deeper impression on our minds, when treated more at large, let us consider what was the opinion of the saints on this subject. St. Bernard says, " That those who run into disorders and crime," of the highest nature, begin at first by committing small faults, and no person ever falls or plunges himself all at once ​into an excess of wickedness." (Bern, de ord. vit. et mor. instit.) That is to say, that commonly speaking, none ever ascend at once to the highest point of vice or virtue, hut that good and evil gradually insinuate themselves, and grow insensibly in us. It happens in spiritual as it does in corporal diseases; both the one and the other increase by little and little: so that when you see a religious commit some great fault do not imagine, says the saint, that his disease then begins, for none ever fall on a sudden into an enormous sin, after having a long time led an innocent and virtuous life. But they begin first by negligence in those duties which they consider as unimportant, then their devotion growing cold, it diminishes daily more and more: so that at length they deserve that God should withdraw his hand, and no longer supported by him, they easily yield and fall under the first great temptation that attacks them.
Cassian explains this very well, by a comparison taken from holy Scripture. Houses fall not to ruin on a sudden, but the damage first begins by some gutters out of repair and neglected, through which the rain entering, by degrees rots the timber that sustains the building; in process of time it penetrates the wall, dissolves the cement, and at last undermines the very foundation, so that the whole edifice tumbles to the ground, perhaps in one night. " By slothfulness," says the Holy Ghost m Ecclesiastes, "a building shall be brought down, and through weakness of hands, the rain shall drop through." (Eccles. x. 18.) Every one knows, that by neglecting to repair a gutter, or to examine the roof carefully in time, the whole building at last falls. It is just so with us, says the same author, a certain natural inclination which we have to evil, first flatters our senses, then gains ground, and insinuating itself into our souls, shakes the firmness of our good resolutions, and at last so weakens and undermines the whole foundation of our piety, that the entire spiritual edifice falls in a moment. A little care and vigilance in the beginning might have easily prevented the growth of the evil; but because we neglected it when it was but small, and did not take care in time to correct such faults, as appeared to us but inconsiderable, it happens that this shameful sloth is the cause, why we suffer ourselves to be overcome by any temptation that occurs; nay, some thereby abandon their religious order, and become miserable apostates. Would to God that sad experience had not taught us, that these woful examples are too frequent amongst us! In ​truth we have great reason to wonder, and to tremble at the same time, when we consider that the ruin of many, who have fallen into this precipice, had its origin from small and trifling occasions. All this happens by the wile and craft of the devil, who dares not attack those that serve God, by tempting them in the beginning to omit things very essential, but begins by those that seem to be of little consequence, and always insensibly gaining some slight advantage, he succeeds better in this manner, than if he had acted otherwise. For if at first he should propose and tempt us to mortal Sin, he would be quickly discovered and repulsed; but insinuating himself by little and little, he through our slight omissions and small faults gets into our souls before we are aware it. It is for this reason St. Gregory says, "that small faults are in some manner more dangerous than great ones" (Greg. 3, past. adm. 34), because great faults, as soon as we reflect on them, carry such horror along with them, as obliges us to endeavour to arise speedily after we have fallen, and to be very circumspect in avoiding them for the future. But the less we perceive small faults, the less we avoid them, and making no account of them, we fall so often, that in time we acquire such a habit of them, as we seldom or never are able to eradicate; so that the evil which at first seemed nothing becomes, by our neglect and frequent relapses, almost incurable. St. Chrysostom confirms the same, when treating of this subject: "I dare," says he, "advance a proposition which will appear strange and unheard of. It seems to me that men ought to be less vigilant in flying from great sins, than in avoiding small faults; for the enormity of great sins naturally excites in us a horror of them, but we are easily induced to commit little faults, because we fancy them not to be considerable, and the little account we make of them, preventing us from endeavouring to correct them, they become at last so great by our negligence, that we are no longer able generously to resist and put a stop to them." (Chrys. horn. 87. sup. Mat.)
It is for this reason that the devil chiefly makes use of this means to assault religious, and those that serve God, because he knows it will be afterwards more easy for him to make them fail in greater and more essential duties. " It makes no matter," says St. Austin, u whether a ship be sent to the bottom by one great wave, or whether the water entering gradually by the chinks, and being neglected to be pumped, at length sinks the vessel." (Aug. Ep. 118. ad Seleu.) The devil, in like manner, cares not whether he enters ​the soul by this or that breach, all being equal to him, provided he attains his end, and brings you to a miserable shipwreck. St. Bonaventure says, " That of many small drops of rain great torrents are formed, which undermine and tumble down strong walls; and that a small chink by which the water gets into a ship, oftentimes causes the loss of the vessel;" (Bon. sup: Ps. Ixvi.) Wherefore St. Austin tells us, that as when a ship springs a leak, we must immediately pump, in order to get out the water and prevent her from sinking; so we also, by fervent prayer, and a strict examination of conscience, must continually endeavour to root out of our heart whatever imperfection or impurity had found its way into it, which if neglected would at last cause our ruin. This should be the continual exercise of a religious; he must incessantly labour to amend his faults, and continually put his hand to the pump, otherwise he will be in great danger of perishing. " You are armed," says St. Austin in another place, " and prepared to defend yourself against great sins; but what care do you take to avoid small faults? Are you not afraid of them also? You have already thrown overboard those heavy bales, which would have sunk your ship; but take care that the small heap of sand, still in the hold, does not bring you down." (Aug. sup. Ps. xxxix. 13.) You have happily escaped all the storms raised against you, in the tempestuous sea of the world; but take precaution lest you be wrecked in the harbour of religion. For as it would avail nothing that a ship should have weathered all the storms, and escaped all the rocks at sea, if she is wrecked in port; so it would be of no advantage to you to have resisted all the assaults of the strongest temptations, if afterwards you yield to weaker ones and thereby lose your soul.
CHAPTER X.
Another weighty Reason which shews how extremely requisite it is to attach Importance to small Things.
Another very cogent reason, why we should apply ourselves with great care and attention to the smallest thing conducive to our perfection, is, that if we neglect to perform it, it is to be feared that God will refuse us these special graces, which we stand in need of, both to preserve us from sin, and to assist us in attaining the perfection we aim at, and for want of which graces we shall be ​exposed to great danger. In order to comprehend this better, we must premise the doctrine of St. Paul, who teaches, that God never refuses that supernatural assistance, which is necessary and sufficient for every one to overcome, if he wishes, the strongest temptation. "God is faithful," says the apostle, " who will not suffer you to be tempted above that which you are able: but will make also with temptation issue, that you may be able to bear it" (i Cor. x. 13.) Besides this general assistance, the apostle here speaks of, there is another more particular one; and though we could have resisted and overcome the temptation, without this particular grace, if we make the good use we ought of the general, yet it often happens, that we do not overcome the temptation, unless God adds this special grace. It is not but we could resist the temptation, if we wished, because, according to the apostle, the first general grace is sufficient; so that we fall through our own fault, because we fall wilfully; yet we would not have fallen, had we been at the time assisted by the special grace. But as this special and efficacious grace is the pure gift of God's great mercy and liberality, he is not pleased to give it to all men, nor upon all occasions, but only to whom he pleases, and to such as act generously and liberally towards him, according to these words of the prophet: " With the holy, you will be holy; with the innocent you will be innocent; with the elect you will be elect; and with the perverse you will be perverted." (Ps. xvii. 26, 27.) Another version has it," With the meek, you will be meek: with the liberal, you will be liberal: with those who deal sincerely and candidly, you are sincere and candid: and with those who are perverse, you are also perverse." St. Ignatius in'; his Constitutions declares the same, where he says: " The stricter union we make with God, and the more liberal we shew ourselves to the Divine Majesty, the more bountiful shall we find him to us, and we shall dispose ourselves to receive daily more and more graces from him." (Ign. reg. 19.) St. Gregory Nazianzen, and many other fathers of the Church, maintain the same doctrine. (Greg. Naz. horn. 19.)
In order to understand what it is to be liberal towards Almighty God, we need but consider what it is to be liberal towards man. " To be liberal is to give to another more than we owe him, and more than we are obliged to give him for to give him barely what is his right, is not called liberality but justice. Whosoever then makes it his chief care to please God, not only in matters of duty and obligation, but also in those things which are of supererogation, and which tend to a more eminent perfection, and this ​not only in great matters, but even in the smallest, is said to be truly liberal towards God, and in return God will recompense him liberally. For God is always pleased to make those, who are thus faithful to him, his chief favourites, and pours his blessings on them in greater abundance; nor does he confine himself to that general assistance which is sufficient to resist temptations, but he bestows on them special and efficacious graces, whereby they always triumph over the assaults of the devil. But if you are not liberal towards God, how can you expect he should be so towards you, and if you offer your gifts to him with a parsimonious hand, must you not expect that he will treat you in the same manner? If you are afraid of doing too much for him, if you hold always the compass in hand to measure what you are obliged to under pain of sin, and examine whether the omission be mortal or only venial; if, in fine, you intend to give God no more, than what you think to be precisely his right, you plainly shew you are a miser, and oblige him to be more sparing of his blessings towards you. For he will give you only what he is bound to by his promise, to wit, he will give you the general aid which he grants to every one, i.e. such aid as is necessary and sufficient to overcome temptations; but you have reason to apprehend, that he will not bestow on you that special and efficacious grace, which he usually gives to those who deal more liberally with him, and it is to be feared, that for want of it, you will at last yield to the assaults of the enemy, and fall into some grievous crime.
It is in this sense we are to understand the opinion of divines, and holy men in general, when they say that a subsequent sin is usually the punishment of a former, because by our first sin we render ourselves unworthy of God's particular grace, and thereby easily fall into a second sin. They also say the same of venial sins, and extend it even to very slight faults; they even maintain that a certain negligence, into which we suffer ourselves to fall, is alone sufficient to render a man unworthy of this special and efficacious grace, by aid of which, he would have overcome the temptation, and through want of which he miserably falls. Some of them explain in the same manner the words of the Wise Man, " He that contemneth small things, shall fall by little and little" (Ecclus. xix. 1); and say, that in consequence of this neglect and contempt, we deserve to be deprived of the extraordinary assistance of God's grace, through want of which these cold and tepid Christians afterwards run into great disorders. Divines give the same interpretation of this passage of the Apocalypse: " Because thou art neither ​cold nor hot I will begin to vomit thee out of my mouth." (Apoc. iii. 16.) God has not as yet entirely rejected the lukewarm man, but he begins to spew him out, in consequence of his inattention, and of the faults he commits with deliberation, which, though they seem to him but small, still cause God to withhold his efficacious grace, without which, a sinner will certainly fall into greater crimes, and will be spewed out, and at last be absolutely rejected.
Let us then consider what great reason we have to fear, lest, by our negligence and indifference, we render ourselves unworthy of God's special favour and assistance. How often do we behold ourselves tempted, and in great danger of falling; how often do we behold ourselves reduced to so great extremities, that we doubt whether or not we have dwelt with complacency on the sinful object— whether or not we have given consent to an evil thought, and whether; by this consent, we have- not defiled our souls with the guilt of mortal sin? In this doleful situation, what an advantage would it be for us, if, having been more liberal towards God, we deserved at his hands that special favour and assistance, which is the pure gift of his bounty, and with which we would have infallibly supported ourselves against the violence of the temptation; but without which grace, we will be not only in great danger of falling, but in all probability, we will be actually overcome.
Speaking of our spiritual enemy the devil, and of the continual war he wages against us, St. Chrysostom observes, that the means here described is very proper and efficacious for resisting and over coming temptations. " You know," says he, "that we have an irreconcileable enemy, from whom we must expect neither peace nor truce; so that if we wished not to be overcome, we must stand continually upon our guard. But what shall we do, not only to prevent ourselves from being overcome, but even to defeat the enemy? Would you know it?" says the saint: " The only means we have to vanquish him, is to merit the assistance of Heaven, by the purity and innocence of our lives; it is thus we shall be always victorious." (Cor. hom. 60. sup. Gen.) We must remark that the saint does not say, it is the best, but that it is the only means whereby we shall be victorious. St. Basil tells us the same, when he says, " That he who expects assistance from God, must never be deficient in performing his duty in the best manner he is capable of, and if he acts in this manner, divine grace will never be wanting to him; wherefore, we must be extremely cautious, that our conscience may not accuse us of anything whatsoever" (Bas. in const, mon. cap. ii.) From these words of St. Basil, it is evi​dent we should resolve to perform all our spiritual exercises and our other actions, with so much attention and exactness, that our conscience may have nothing to reproach us with, and that thereby we may obtain that special grace, which is so requisite for our salvation. It is therefore plain, that we ought to set a great value upon small things, if those things can be called 'small, which are capable either of procuring us so much happiness, or of drawing down upon us so much misery. Hence, " He that feareth God," says the Wise Man, " neglecteth nothing." (Ec. vii. 19.) Because he knows that, from the slightest faults, we fall by little and little into great crimes; and is afraid that if he deals not liberally with God, his Divine Majesty will cease to deal liberally with him.
To conclude — I say that this point is so essential and so necessary to be observed by every good Christian that we ought to hold it for a general maxim, that- as long as we consider the smallest things in devotion, as matters of great importance, all will go well with us, and we shall attract the blessings and assistance of Heaven. But, on the contrary, if we neglect them, we shall expose ourselves to great danger; for it is only by this carelessness and indifference that sin can find entrance into the soul of a religious. This is what our blessed Saviour intimated to us when he said, " He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in that which is greater: — And he that is unjust in that which is little, is unjust also in that which is greater." (Luke, xvi. 10.) When, therefore, you desire to know whether you advance in virtue, upon which you should often reflect with attention, examine carefully whether you are faithful in small things, or whether you despise and neglect them; if you perceive that you make no account of them, and yet that your conscience feels not the remorse she had used to feel on similar occasions, be sure speedily to remedy this evil with all possible care. For St. Basil says, "That the devil, when he cannot prevail on us totally to abandon religion," strains every nerve to dissuade us from aiming at perfection, and to excite in us an indifference for small things; hoping at least to deceive us, by instilling into us a vain confidence that God, in consequence of such neglect, will not deprive us of his holy grace." (Bas. ser. de renun. &c. spir. perfec.) But we, on our part, should always endeavour to act in such a manner that it may be as impossible for him to divert us from perfection, as to persuade us to forsake religion; for this purpose we must always aspire to perfection, and set a great value upon the smallest things conducive to it.
CHAPTER XI.
That the Business and Concern of our Spiritual Advancement are to be undertaken not in a general, but in a particular Manner; and of what great Importance it is to put in Execution the good Intentions with which God inspires us.
The great masters of a spiritual life tell us, that one of the means most conducive to our advancement, is not to content ourselves with applying to it in a general manner, but that we must descend to particulars. Cassian relates that the Abbot Moyses, one day, in a spiritual conference, asked his religious, " What was it they aimed at by all their praying, fasting, watching, and other austerities?" When they answered, (i That it was the kingdom of heaven:" he replied, " I know very well that heaven is your last and great end; but what is the immediate and particular object by which you mean to attain your last end?" (Cass. Col. V. cap. iii. and iv.) For as a husbandman, whose principal view is to reap a plentiful crop, applies, with all possible care, to cultivate his land well, and to root out the weeds; because these means are necessary to be taken, in order to attain the object of his desires: and as a merchant, who aspires to nothing but riches, seriously considers what particular commerce may be most conducive to the increase of his wealth, then embarks into that business with his whole stock, and devotes his whole time and industry to it. In like manner, although the chief business of a religious is to work out his salvation, nevertheless, it will not be sufficient for him to undertake it in general, saying, " I intend to save my soul; I will become a perfect religious but he must consider in particular, what vice or passion chiefly opposes his advancement, what virtue he stands most m need of. It is upon these two points he must continually exercise himself, so that advancing gradually, and reflecting with attention, sometimes on one action, sometimes on another, he may more easily attain the perfection he desires. An ancient father of the desert gave the same advice to an anchoret, who, after having a long time persevered with diligence and fervour in devotion, became at last so negligent in the discharge of his spiritual exercises, that he fell into a state of tepidity and indifference; at length desiring to recover his former fervour, but imagining that all the avenues to it were closed against him, he knew not where to begin to open a passage. Upon which, the good father, in order to console and encourage him, told him this parable. — A certain man, says he, having a field, which ​was all overrun with briers and thorns, sent his son to stub and clear it. The young man, perceiving the laborious task imposed on him by his rather, lost courage, and fell asleep the first day, and the second day he did the same, for which his father reprehended him, saying, Son you must not look upon this work all together, and in the gross, as if you were to do it all at once; but you must undertake every day as much as you can easily perform. The son followed the father's advice, and in a short time the whole field was cleared.
But the chief obstacle to our advancement in virtue, and to our receiving new graces from God, is our not putting into execution those good desires with which he inspires us; so that, by the bad use we make of his gifts, we compel him to withhold his hand. In the affair of perfection, he treats us as scholars are treated by a writing-master, who, until they form their first letters well according to the copy already given, will not allow them to get a new one. The longer we refrain from making good use of the graces God has given us, the longer he defers to give us new ones; and the more we endeavour to put in practice those good inspirations which he sends us in time of prayer, the more he is inclined to bestow on us his heavenly gifts. Doctor Avila says, that he who makes good use of the lights God has given him, shall receive additional ones from him; but he that neglects to make good use of those already received, can have no pretensions to ask for others; for }ie may be justly answered, why do you desire to know the will of God, when you do not accomplish it in these things wherein you already know it? (M. Avila, lib. i. de las. ep. fol. 241.) If you do not put in practice the good desires which he gives you, how can you expect that he will confer on you greater favours? With what confidence can you entreat him in your prayers, to bestow on you such a gift, which you stand in need of, if you omit to amend those faults, which, by his holy inspirations, he has so often reminded you to correct? I cannot comprehend how any person, who wilfully and deliberately persists even in one fault, how trivial soever it may appear, can lift up his eyes, or open his lips, to beg of God new and extraordinary graces. If we desire to obtain them, let us be careful to put in execution the holy inspirations which he sends us.
It is the opinion of all the saints, that he who makes good use of the grace he has received, deserves to obtain new ones; but, on the contrary, he who does not employ the first well, becomes un​deserving of any more, Solomon, in the book of Wisdom, gives a good reason why the manna, which resisted the violence of fire, dissolved and corrupted as soon as the first ray of the sun appeared. " It is, O Lord," says he, " that it might be known to all, that we ought to prevent the sun to bless thee." (Wisd. xvi. 28.) Thus, in order to punish the indolence of those, who would not rise before the sun, to avail themselves of his benefits towards them, God permitted that the first beam of the sun should deprive them of food for the whole day. The same thing is beautifully represented to us by our Saviour, in the parable of the nobleman, who, going into a far country, to take possession of a kingdom, called his servants, and divided amongst them his money, that they might trade during his absence; and, at his return, having demanded an account of them, he appointed them governors of as many cities as they had gained talents: to him that gained ten talents, he gave the government of ten cities, and to him that gained five talents, he gave the government of five cities. (Luke, xix. 12.) This plainly shews us, that as this nobleman was pleased to recompense the fidelity and industry of tis servants with such excessive liberality as to give him who gained ten talents, the government of ten cities; so, Almighty God, if we faithfully correspond with the inspirations he sends us, will shower down his graces and blessings on us in abundance; but on the other hand, if we do not diligently follow the motions of grace, we will not only be deprived of what we have received, but we will be severely punished, as the unprofitable servant was, who did not lay out to advantage the talent he had received.
It is said of Apelles, that in whatsoever business he was engaged, he never let pass a day without exercising himself in his own profession, by painting something or other. For this purpose he always endeavoured to find out some time amid his other employments, and to excuse himself from going into company, was wont to say, " This day I have not as yet drawn one stroke with my pencil so that, by this means, he became a most excellent painter. In like manner, you will become a perfect religious, if you let no day pass without making some advancement in virtue: practise daily some act of mortification — correct some fault you were accustomed to commit^and you will quickly find, that your life will become every day more perfect. When you examine your conscience at noon, and perceive that you have done nothing that morning conducive to your improvement, that you have mortified yourself in nothing, that you have performed no act of ​humility when occasions offered themselves; believe that you have lost so much time, and make a firm resolution not to let the remaining part of the day pass in the same manner. You will find it impossible to observe this rule, without gradually advancing, and making in a short time a considerable progress in the way of perfection.
CHAPTER XII.
In order to attain Perfection, we should never deliberately commit any Faulty nor be remiss in our Endeavours to become perfect.
In order to attain perfection, to which during life we should continually aspire, it is of the utmost importance never to commit any fault deliberately. This being premised, we must understand that there are two sorts of venial sins: one, into which those who fear God most, often fall, through frailty, ignorance, and inadvertence; although there is generally a little negligence mixed with these frailties. They who serve God faithfully and with an upright heart, should find in these faults rather a subject of humiliation than of affliction: for God will not on that account abandon them, but on the contrary, will afford them his divine grace, and animate them with fresh courage, when upon these occasions they humbly address themselves to him. There is another species of venial sins, into which they who are cold and remiss in the service of God wilfully and deliberately fall. These faults are a very great obstacle to those graces which God in his infinite goodness would have bestowed on us, if we had not committed them. These are also the cause why we find no comfort or satisfaction in prayer, and that God ceases to impart to us those spiritual consolations and favours, which he was accustomed to bestow. So that if we intend to advance in Christian perfection, and to engage Almighty God to continue his favours towards us, we must be very careful never to commit a wilful or deliberate fault. Those we daily commit, through ignorance or inadvertence, are but too many, and therefore we should not multiply greater faults. Our distractions in prayer, springing from the natural -inconstancy and wanderings of the imagination, are but too great, without voluntarily diverting our minds to other objects: and the faults which through frailty we often commit, contrary to what is required by the strictness of our rule and profession, are such, as we need not aggravate by consent.
​St. Basil prescribes another means, which, he says, will in a short time contribute very much to our advancement in perfection. This is never to stop in the pursuit of virtue. There are men, who are sometimes seized with certain fits of zeal and devotion, but stop short on a sudden, and go no farther. Be sure not to imitate these, but advance constantly on your way, and remember that, in your spiritual career, you will become more weary by halting than if you continue your journey. It is not the same in spiritual as in corporal exercises: the body is weakened and exhausted by continual labour; but the more the soul acts, the more strong and vigorous she becomes, according to the Latin proverb: " The bow is broken by being too much bent, and the mind is corrupted by too much relaxation." (Arcum frangit intensio, animnm remissio.)
St. Ambrose says, that as it is far easier to preserve our innocence, than to repent truly: so it is easier to persevere in the fervour of devotion, than to recover it after a short discontinuance. When a smith has taken a bar of iron from the fire, to forge it to the shape he desires, he never permits it to grow quite cold, but puts it into the fire again as soon as possible, that it may grow hot and fit for the hammer to work upon as before. In like manner ought we to be cautious never to suffer the fire of our devotion to be extinguished: for if the heart once grows cold, and begins to harden, we shall find it extremely difficult to warm and soften it again. We find by experience, that though men be very far advanced in virtue, if they once begin to grow remiss, and discontinue their exercises of piety, they lose, in a few days, what they had been a long time acquiring; and when they endeavour to recover it again, they find so many difficulties and contradictions in the attempt, that they can seldom rise to that degree of perfection from which they had fallen. They, on the contrary, who persevere with fervour in their devotions and spiritual exercises, not only remain with ease in that degree of perfection they had already attained, but in a little time ascend much higher. Thus they never lose time, nor diminish what they have once acquired. They are not like the tepid and negligent, who spend their whole life in alternate fits, of tepidity and devotion, destroying by their negligence what they have acquired by their fervour, doing and undoing, building up and putting down, without ever bringing any of their projects to perfection. But the fervent labour incessantly without repose; and acquiring new strength by continual exercise, they perform ​with great facility the most difficult undertakings, and daily advance more and more in virtue. Thus both the one and the other verify in themselves that saying of the Wise Man: " The slothful hand hath wrought poverty; but the hand of the industrious getteth riches." (Prov. x. 4.) " The soul of those that labour shall grow fat." (Prov. xiii. 4.)
A great servant of God was wont to compare the tepid and fervent religious to two sorts of courtiers. He said that the lukewarm who think themselves entitled on account of their seniority to ease and indulgence, and who labour to advance no farther in perfection, were like those old domestics, who, from their former services, were allowed a place in court, but on account of their present inactivity, receive no further preferment from their prince, or are hardly admitted into his presence; but the fervent he compares to those wise and active young courtiers, who continually waited upon, and applied all their thoughts to discover what was most pleasing to their prince, and by their diligence and assiduity, insinuated themselves so far into his good graces, that they were at length raised to very high honours and dignities.
CHAPTER XIII.
Of three other Means which conduce very much to our further Advancement in Virtue.
St. Basil, and many other holy men say, that in order to acquire perfection, it is very advantageous to consider attentively the lives of the most perfect, and propose them to ourselves as models for our imitation. St. Anthony also says, that as the bee settles upon, and extracts from every flower its most pure and exquisite substance to make honey; so a religious ought to observe every man in his community, and learn from one modesty, from another silence, from a third fervour, from a fourth obedience and resignation; in fine he ought to imitate what he finds most commendable in each, and endeavour to conform in all things to the proposed model. It was thus St. Anthony himself acted, and by this means became so great a saint. Good example is one of the greatest advantages we have in religion. When St. Jerom advised men to live in community rather than in solitude, "it was," as he said, " to the end that they ​might learn humility from one and paitence from another; that one should teach us silence, and another meekness and docility." Charillus, King of Lacedaemon, being asked what sort of republic he considered to be the best. "That," said he, "wherein the Citizens live without strife or sedition, and strive with emulation who shall become most virtuous." We are all assembled in religion under a happy form of government, which differs from, and far excels all other governments in the world. In the governments of the world, men are eagerly employed in procuring wealth, honours, dignities, and preferment, and scarce make any efforts to acquire virtue. But in religion all their study is to deny their own will; all their application is to discover the means whereby to become more perfect; every man lives in peace and charity, without contention, without murmuring, without complaint; their only emulation is to excel each other in obedience, humility, and virtue. Certainly God has conferred on us no small favour, in calling us to a state where virtue alone is esteemed: where neither doctor nor preacher is valued for extensive knowledge or profound eloquence, but for humility and mortification; where every man endeavours to advance in virtue, and where, in fine, by mutual good example, they encourage each other to live well. Let us then embrace so favourable an opportunity of becoming perfect; and making good use of the examples we daily receive from our brethren, let us consider that we also are obliged to edify them by our example.
This is the second means, which I shall propose in this chapter, as conducive to your spiritual advancement. In order to know its utility and importance, we need only consider in what manner our Saviour speaks of it in the gospel. "Let your light," says he, "so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." (Matt, v. 16.) Every one sufficiently knows the force of good example. A perfect religious does more good in a community by his example, than the most eloquent sermons or pathetic exhortations. Men are much more affected by what they see, than by what they hear; and being easily convinced that the thing is practicable, when they see another perform it, they are strongly encouraged to undertake it. That fluttering of wings, of which the prophet Ezechiel speaks when he says, that " he heard the wings of living creatures striking one against the other" (Ezech. iii. 13), is, properly speaking, the good example by which you touch your brother's heart, move it to piety and ​St. Bernard declares, that at first when he entered into religion, the very sight of some religious who were full of zeal and charity, nay, even the remembrance of them when they were absent or dead, imparted so much comfort and joy to him, and so deeply impressed him with sentiments of tenderness for God, that oftentimes tears fell from his eyes in great abundance. " The memory of Josias," says holy Scripture, " is like the composition of a sweet smell made by the art of a perfumer." (Ecclus. xiix. 1.) Such were the good religious of whom St. Bernard speaks, and such ought we endeavour to become, according to the words of the apostle: " We are the good odour of Jesus Christ." (2 Cor.ii. 15 ) Let us then be in effect like unto a box of perfumes, which freely communicates its odour, and delights and fortifies all who touch it. Above all, let us be exceedingly careful never to give occasion of scandal, or bad example to any of our brethren. A religious of an exemplary life does a great deal of good in a community. He may edify the rest and induce them to copy his virtues. But a bad religious is the author of incalculable mischief; he alone is capable of destroying an entire community, and will the more easily plunge it into disorder, because our inclinations being much more prone to vice than to virtue, example urges us more forcibly to evil, than to good.
We read in Deuteronomy, that when the people of Israel were drawn up in order of battle, Almighty God commanded the captains to have it proclaimed throughout the whole army, " that whosoever was fearful or faint-hearted should depart and return home, lest he make the heart of his brethren to fear as he himself was possessed of fear." (Deu. xx. 8.) The example of a tepid and slothful religious produces similar bad effects in religion. He communicates his negligence to the rest, and renders them feeble in all their efforts to attain perfection. It is therefore very justly remarked by Eusebius, 6i that whoever has chosen to live in a community either does good to a great many by sanctity, or injures them by his laxity of manners."
To those already mentioned, we can add a third means which is very conducive to our spiritual advancement. This is the obligation we lie under of giving good example not only to our brethren with whom we daily converse, but likewise to ail others in general, lest through the scandal given by an individual ​the whole order should lose its reputation. For people in the world form a judgment of all the religious from the actions of the individual, and as if his fault Were an original sin, or a kind of community-property, they readily impute to the whole order, the irregularity of the particular member. It is therefore the bounden duty of each individual religious to be extremely careful to edify his neighbour, that by this means the reputation of the whole order may be preserved and enhanced. For this purpose we must imagine that the eyes of the whole world are upon us; " That we are made a spectacle to angels and to men" (1 Cor. iv. 9), and that although it is unreasonable to censure a whole order for the faults of one man, yet it is certain, that the whole body consists of members, and consequently that the growth or decay of that body depends upon the good or bad conduct of each particular member. Let every one therefore remain firm at his post, like a good soldier; let him take care that through his fault a battalion so strong and so well formed be not broken. Let him take heed that religious discipline be not relaxed through his irregularity. In fine, let him imagine that in religion his mother addresses him in the language, wherein the mother of the Machabees addressed her youngest son, encouraging him to suffer and to die courageously for the observance of the law. " My son," said she, " have pity upon me that bore thee nine months in my womb, and gave thee suck three years, and nourished thee and brought thee up unto this age." (2 Mach. vii. 27.) The only return I ask is that you do not ruin yourself and me, and that you do not employ against yourself and me those arms which I put in your hands for your own defence and for that of your neighbour. In fine, I request that what should render you more grateful, more humble, and more virtuous, may not render you more ungrateful, more proud, and more irregular.
CHAPTER XIV.
That we should behave ourselves all our Life-time in Religion, after the same Manner we did the first Day we entered into it.
An ancient religious asking the Abbot Agatho, how he should behave himself in religion, the good abbot answered him, " That he should remember how he had behaved himself the first day he had left the world, and was received into the convent; and ​that he should continue to do still, as he had done then." If therefore you wish to know the most proper means of continuing always a good religious and improving much in virtue, reflect well upon the disposition you were in, when you first left the world, and entered into religion, and endeavour to continue always in the same state. Consider with what zeal and courage you then renounced everything, your parents, your friends, riches, pleasures, and all the conveniences of this life. Persevere and still retain the same contempt of the world, the same forgetfulness of your parents and of all other conveniences of life, and thus you will become a good religious. Call to mind also with what earnestness and humility you begged to be admitted into religion, and remember that the same day you were assured of admittance, you thought the gates of heaven had been open to you. Remember what gratitude you then expressed, and how highly y°u conceived yourself obliged both to God and to religion. Persevere in the same sentiments of humility and spiritual comfort; be convinced that you are still under the same obligations, as you were the first day, and in this manner you cannot fail of making great progress. In fine, think often with what modesty and devotion you behaved yourself at first after your admittance; remember how obedient, how humble, how fervent, how exact, and how resigned you were then; continue always the same, and you will daily improve more and more, and continually advance in virtue and perfection.
This means is much recommended by holy men, as I shall shew hereafter, but first it is very necessary clearly to explain its import. I do not mean hereby, that you need not be more perfect now, than you were the first day you entered into religion, or that an ancient religious should content himself with the virtue of a novice. For religious orders are schools of perfection; he that has frequented them longer, ought to have learned, and improved himself more, than he who entered them later; and as in human sciences, he that has studied ten years, ought to know more than he who newly begins his studies; so a religious who has laboured for a long time to advance in virtue, ought without doubt to have made greater progress in his profession, than one who is but newly entered into religion. But, as a young student, who at first was very diligent in his studies, and afterwards grows idle, is told that if he pretends to become learned, he must continue to take his business still as much to heart, as he did at the beginning; so what I intend, by that ​which is said before, is, that you should preserve the same fervour you brought with you, when treading the paths of virtue, you first entered into religion. With what zeal and resolution did you then begin to serve God? Nothing could then impede you, nothing seemed hard; re-assume the same fervour now, pursue your great affair with the same courage, and by this means you will make great progress in virtue. This is what holy men would have us understand by the expedient I last spoke of.
St. Athanasius tells us that St. Anthony being desired by his disciples to give them some advice concerning their spiritual advancement, began his discourse to them in these words: " What I first must recommend to you all in general is, that you never relent in that fervour, with which you first embraced a religious life; but that you still go on, "always increasing it, as if you did but now begin." (Athan. et Surius, torn. i. p. 386.) He repeated the same advice to them upon several other occasions, and the better to imprint it in their minds, when he was near his death, enjoined them the same thing, as his last will and testament, in such pathetic words as expressed in him the tenderness of a father. " As to me," says he, " my dear children, I am shortly entering into the way of my forefathers, according to the Scripture expression; for our Lord already calls me to him, and I have a longing desire to see my heavenly country; but before I go, I must remind you of one thing. That if you will not lose the fruit of all the time you have already spent, and of all the pains and hard labour you have undergone, ever since you entered into religion, you must imagine that you begin only today to embrace a religious life, and must live so, that the fervour and zeal which you had at your first entrance, may daily increase and acquire new strength." If therefore you have a desire to advance in virtue, bear this continually in your mind, and suppose that you are every day to begin anew, and always to continue the same fervour, with which at first you began, by which means you will find it very easy to become a good religious.
St. Austin proposes another means, of which we have treated in one of the preceding chapters; " Forget," says he, " all that is past, and imagine that every day you do but begin." But to return to what we have quoted from St. Anthony, which he was used to explain by a familiar example, and said, that " we ought to apply with the same care and diligence to God's service, as a good servant does to the concerns of his master." A good servant, though he has served his master many years, and taken ​great pains and care in his affairs, yet he never refuses to do whatever lies in his power for him, but on the contrary rejoices to receive his master's commands, and performs them with the same willingness and readiness, as he did the first day he entered into his service. This St. Bernard practised. He believed that all other religious were arrived at the height of perfection, and being come to the end of their course, they might very well dispense with themselves in many things (which is indeed an excellent antidote against judging rashly of others); but as for himself, he always imagined that he was as yet but a novice, and that it was not for him to take upon him the same liberty, nor to use the same privileges, which others might do, and for that reason be never abated anything of the exactness and rigour of his rule, nor exempted himself from any of the meanest offices of his monastery. He was always the most forward in doing whatsoever obedience, prescribed; the first in sweeping the cloister, the first in washing the dishes, and when it happened that he was not well versed in, or could not do something he saw others do, he presently endeavoured to repair that defect, by taking some other work in hand that was far meaner than what his brethren were employed in. He either took a spade to dig the garden, or an axe to cleave wood, which afterwards he carried to the kitchen, and took great delight in these offices, because he really believed he had very great need of practising them for his spiritual advancement. There are many now-a-days not of his mind, who, when they are employed in such offices, say, that good example may perhaps require it, but in any other respect they do not think these practices necessary. I do not say, but that it is good to do such things for the example and edification of others, but that it were better to believe, that we ought to do them for our own advancement, since St. Bernard was persuaded, that he had need of them for his.
But to elucidate still more what we have already quoted from. St. Anthony, we must make another observation, which is, that the saint was not satisfied with our not abating anything of that fervour we brought at first: but required that we should continually endeavour to increase it, by growing still better and better, and as if we did then only begin. Just as a man who is but newly entered into God's service, and sees hitherto he has done nothing else but offended him, adds therefore every day penance upon penance, in order to make satisfaction for his past offences, and to render himself worthy of reward for the future. ​In the same manner, ought we daily to apply ourselves, to gain and lay up new treasures for heaven, as if hitherto we had gathered no treasures, but rather made every effort to squander and lose them.
This is the means St Gregory thinks most convenient for all sorts of persons, nay even for the mot perfect. And as perfect as the holy prophet David was, he did not, for all that, forbear to make use of it, as he himself signifies in these words, " I said to myself now I do but begin." (Psal. lxxvi. 1 1.) He had so much fervour and zeal for God's service, that even in his old age he continued the same fervent desire and diligence to serve God, as if he had but then begun to serve him. It is likewise evident from the saying of the Wise Man, " When a man shall have finished his task, then he shall begin anew" (Ecclus. xviii. 6); the more the true servants of God advance and approach to their end, which is perfection, the more they increase in fervour and redouble their activity. For as St. Gregory says, " Men who are digging for a great treasure, the deeper they dig the more earnestly and diligently they go on still in their work; for hoping they are not far from what they looked for, they imagine that a little more pains will bring them to it; and by these hopes they encourage themselves to work afresh, without being tired. In like manner those who truly take to heart the great affair of their salvation, the farther they are advanced in the way of perfection, and the nearer they approach, they are still the more pressing to arrive at it. There is but a little earth that hides your treasure from you, dig a little farther and you will discover it, take courage, make haste (Greg. 1. v. Mor. c. 3), and labour so much the harder, as you see the day nearer to approach (Heb. x. 25), as the apostle counsels the Hebrews; as if he would say, that the nearer we draw towards our end, the harder we ought to labour. When a stone falls down from above, the nearer it draws towards its centre, the quicker it moves, till it reaches it: so when a man walks diligently in the way of God and proposes no other end to himself, than to please him alone, the more he advances in perfection, and the nearer he approaches to him, who is his centre, and his last end, the more he hastens and labours to arrive thither. Those who live thus, says St. Basil, are perfectly such as the apostle would have them be; " Perpetually careful, most fervent in spirit, knowing that it is God whom they serve." (Rom. xii. 1 1.) There are certain religious who have ​a great deal of fervour in the beginning, during the first year of their probation; but as soon as that is over, they begin to relent, and rather become tepid and negligent, than zealous and fervent. For those who are truly zealous, will never grow remiss in their devotion, but will always keep up the same fervour for their religious duties; and instead of being tired in God's service, they desire nothing so much, as to serve him still better and better, according to those words of the royal prophet: " He who fears the' Lord, will have great delight in his commandments." (Psal. cxi. 1.)
CHAPTER XV.
That it is very advantageous to consider and often to ask ourselves, for what End we entered into Religion.
Another means, which may assist us very much in acquiring perfection, is that made use of by St. Bernard himself. He had always in his thoughts, says the author of his Life, and often in his mouth, these words: " Bernard, Bernard, for what art thou come hither?" St. Arsenius often asked himself the same question, and often entering into himself, demanded an account of his own actions. "Arsenius," said he, " wherefore hast thou left the world? What was thy intention in quitting it. and entering into religion? Was it not to apply thyself wholly to please God, and not to be at all solicitous to procure the esteem and good will of men? Be then serious and diligent, in carrying on the design thou hadst at that time, and value not what opinion men may have of thee. All desire of honour, praise, and vanity is, properly speaking, that world thou hast renounced. Do not suffer thy heart to be seized anew with these follies; for it will be of no service to keep thy body shut up in a cloister, if thy heart still sighs and longs for the esteem of men, and so hurries thee continually back again to the world." Thus did these great saints encourage and fortify themselves; and so should we in like manner animate and strengthen ourselves against all the difficulties we can meet with in religion. When you find a repugnance to obey a superior in what he orders, encourage yourself by these or the like words: " Wherefore art thou entered into religion?" Was it to do thy own will? Was it not rather to submit it to the will of another? Wherefore ​dost thou then pretend to follow thy own? Whenever you find that any ordinary effects of poverty molest you, encourage yourself in these terms: Art thou come hither to seek thy own ease and convenience, and not to suffer the least want of anything? Dost thou not remember that thou earnest to religion to be poor, and to suffer the want of -many things, as one truly poor? Wherefore then dost thou complain? When you imagine that others have not a sufficient regard and esteem for you, console yourself by often saying: Hast thou entered into religion to be respected, or rather hast thou not entered it to be neglected and forgotten by all men, not at all regarding nor valuing the opinion and esteem of the world? Why dost thou now refuse that which thou earnest hither to seek? Wherefore wilt thou run after that which thou hast once quitted? Thou earnest not to do thy own will, but to be truly poor, to live in want of all sorts of conveniences, and to desire to be neglected, and scorned by men; this is to be a true religious, this is to be dead to the world, and to live wholly to God.
Let us then often call to mind, that it is for this end we entered into religion, and that it will not at all profit us to be in religion, unless we perform what we came for. It is not the place, but our good lives, that must make us saints. The great St. Austin treats this point excellently well in a sermon, wherein he addresses himself to those religious, who live in the desert. "Behold," says he, " we are got into solitude, we are got into the desert: yet, it is not the place, but our good works that can make us saints; it is these will sanctify the place, and us too. Do not then trust to the holiness of the place; we may sin in all places, and may everywhere meet with our damnation. For the angels sinned in heaven, Adam in paradise; and you know there was no place could be more holy than these. It is not then the place that makes the saints; for if the place could sanctify those that live in it, neither man nor angels could ever have fallen from their dignities." (Ser. xxvii. ad frat. in Erm.) I say the same to you: do not imagine that all the work is done, and that you are already out of all danger, because you are become a religious; for it will avail you nothing to be a religious, unless you do those things, for which you have entered into religion; for you are not come thither, to be a man of great learning, nor to become a great preacher, but solely and purely to become a true and good religious, and to aspire continually after perfection. It imports but little whether you are more or ​less learned, or whether you preach with greater or less eloquence; but that which is of the greatest importance is, that you become a good and perfect religious, and if that be not the thing we aim at, and labour to attain, what is it we do? And what have we done all this while if we have not done this? And to what have we applied our minds, if we have not studied and endeavoured to attain that, for which only, and for no other end, we are come hither? Wherefore examine your conscience, and ask yourself often this question; " Friend, for what art thou come hither?" (Matt. xxvi. 50.) What art, or what profession, could I have made choice of, wherein I should not have rendered myself perfect, during the same time I have been in religion? I have made choice of the profession of religious, and hitherto I have advanced little or nothing in it: so many years are now past, since I was admitted into this school of virtue, and I have not yet learned the 6rst rudiments of it; I am yet to learn the smallest and lowest degree of humility. Others become good philosophers, and good divines in seven years' space; and I, after so many years, have not yet learned to be a good religious. How easy were it, notwithstanding, for us to be so, if we would but apply with the same care and labour to acquire true virtue, that we do to become eminent in learning.
Many, says St. Bernard (Lib. de Cons. ca. 2), run after the splendour and vanity of human learning; and how very few are there, that study the purity and holiness of a good life? But if men would apply themselves with the same fervour to virtue, as they do to be eminent in profane sciences, they would find the acquisition of it more easy, and its possession much more advantageous. And yet, would it be at all surprising, if, in acquiring the science of the cross, and in securing our eternal salvation, we display as much zeal as we do in acquiring profane science, and in cultivating our minds? St. Dorotheus, writing upon this subject, says very well, that he often made a reflection, which much improved him. When I studied in the world, says he, I took my studies so much to heart, that I thought of nothing else; and had it not been for one of my friends, who took care to provide me something to eat, and to call me at dinner time, I had never thought of eating. The vehement desire I had to learn went so far, that when I was at table, I had my book always open before me, that I might eat and study at the same time; and at night when I came from school, I presently lighted my candle, and studied till midnight; and when I lay down to ​sleep, I took my book into my bed, and after I had slept a while, I fell a reading again, and was so wholly taken up with this passion of studying, that I could take no delight in anything else. Since I came to be a religious, I have often reflected and said to myself, " If thou didst heretofore take so much pains, and wert so zealous to acquire eloquence, what great pains and careoughtest thou not to take now, in order to acquire true virtue? And this very thought," says he, " was a great help to me, and gave me fresh courage, and new strength." (Doroth. Doct. 10.)
Let us encourage ourselves by the same consideration, and remember that it is of greater concern to become good religious, than great and learned orators. Let all our endeavours and application, therefore, be, to attain to the knowledge and love of God, which is the greatest, and indeed our only affair in this life. All the time that our blessed Saviour lived amongst us, be had no other intent than to manifest the tender love he had for us, and to procure us the greatest happiness we were capabable of enjoying; and to that end he refused not to shed his most precious blood, and even to lay down his life. And shall we think too much, in return for so great goodness, to make it our chief business to love and serve him, and always to promote his honour and glory? "Wherefore lift up your hands that hang down as if tired, and stretch out your loose knees" (Heb. xii. 12): "Let us make haste to arrive at the place of rest" (Ibid. iv. 11), and let us not stop till we go to " Horeb, the mountain of God" (3 Kings, xix. 8), that is to say, the highest pitch of glory and perfection. And as a traveller that has slept till late in the morning, makes haste to repair the time he has lost, by mending his pace till he overtake his company, that were gone before; so should we make haste, and never stop in our course, till we have repaired the time we have lost by our negligence. It is to this end, that each of us should always have these thoughts in our mind: — My companions and brethren are already far advanced on their journey, and I alone still loiter behind, notwithstanding I began my journey first, and entered into religion before them. How great a happiness and advantage would it prove to us, if we did truly grieve for all the time we have lost? And what an encouragement would it give us for the future, to advance with more diligence, and make haste without remissness?
Denis, the Carthusian, reports a passage which he takes from ​the Lives of the Ancient Fathers, saying, that a certain woman finding her son desirous to become a religious, endeavoured all she could to hinder his executing this good design, laying before him all she thought might serve to prevent him; but the young man, continuing still firm in his holy resolution, made no other answer to all the difficulties and objections his mother urged, but only this, I will save my soul. At last, his mother seeing she could prevail on him, neither by reason nor importunity, left him to his own choice; and so the young man took the habit of religion. But this first fervour cooling afterwards, he began to live so negligently that there could scarce be found any trace of that zeal he had at first shewn for heavenly things. Soon after, his mother died, and he fell sick of a very dangerous fever, in which, lying in a trance, he fancied, that he was carried before God's great tribunal, where he saw his mother, with many others, expecting the sentence of their condemnation; and that his mother, looking upon him, and perceiving- that he was of the number of those who were to be condemned; " Alas! son," said she, "what is become of that good resolution, and that sentence you so often heretofore repeated to me, I will save my soul? Was it to become a lost soul that you made yourself a religious?" This reproach of his mother put him into so great a confusion, that he could not tell what to reply. At last awaking from this trance, and permitted by God to recover from that sickness, he began to consider that the vision he had had was certainly a warning from God; which wrought such a change in him, that he spent all the rest of his life in tears, and continual penance. Many endeavoured to persuade him to moderate, and abate some part of his great austerities and mortifications, lest he should destroy his health by them; but he rejected all their advice, saying, "Alas! if I could not bear those reproaches of my mother how shall I be able to bear those that will be made me by Jesus Christ, and his blessed angels, on the terrible day of judgment?" (Dion. Cart. art. 30 de quatuor novis.)
CHAPTER XVI.
Of some other Things which may contribute much to our Advancement in Virtue and Perfection.
"Be ye perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Mat. v. 48), says our blessed Saviour, in that admirable sermon he preached to his disciples on the Mount. In his discourse on these words, St. Cyprian says, "If men feel great pleasure in seeing their children resemble them, and if a father is never better pleased than when all his son's features are like his own; how much greater joy will our eternal Father feel, when we are so happily regenerated in spirit, that, by all our actions, and by our good behaviour, we are known to be truly his children; what palm of justice, and what crown of glory will it be to you, that God shall have no cause to say, I have nourished and brought up children and they have scorned me (Isa. i. 2): but, on the contrary, that all your actions tend to the glory of your heavenly Father? For it is truly his glory, to have children who resemble him in such a manner as that by them he may come to be honoured, known and glorified ."
But how will it be possible for us to render ourselves like to our heavenly Father? St. Austin teaches us in these words: "Let us remember," says he, "that the more just we become, and the more united with God's will, the better we shall resemble him; and that the more holy, and the more perfect we are, the greater resemblance we shall have to our heavenly Father." (Ep. 85. ad Consent.) And it is for this reason, that our Saviour so earnestly wishes and desires our holiness and perfection, and so often recommends it to us; sometimes by himself in St. Matthew, in the passage we have already quoted; telling us also the same thing by the mouth of St. Paul in these words, " That which God desires of you is, that you be sanctified" (1 Thess. iv. 3): and also by the Prince of the Apostles, saying, " You shall be holy, because I am holy." (1 Pet. i. 16.) It is a very great comfort to parents to have wise and discreet children; this truth the Holy Ghost tells us by Solomon, who says, "That a wise son brings great joy to his father: but a foolish son causes grief to his mother." (Prov. x. 1.) If then, by doing so, we attained no other end than to please Almighty God, whose pleasure, honour, and glory should be the chief motive of all our actions; we ought continually to aspire to perfection. But that we may ​be still more forcibly urged to embrace it, I shall propose several other means, which may serve to the attaining it.
The reason why in holy Scripture we are so often called the children of God, by the mouths of the prophets, who very often repeat this saying, " I will be your father, and ye shall be my children;" and by St. Paul, who exhorts us to be " followers of God, as his most dear children" (Eph. v. 1); and by St. John, when he tells us, " See what love the heavenly Father has had for us, insomuch that he would have us called, and be effectually the sons of God" (1 John, iii. 1 ); and also in many other places to the same purpose. The reason, I say, why the same thing is repeated to us so often in holy Scripture is, as St. Austin says, " To the end that seeing, and considering the dignity and excellency of our origin, we may conceive and entertain a greater esteem and higher value of what we are; and, consequently, take greater care not to do anything unworthy our noble extraction. We use great care," says the same father, " to preserve a rich suit of clothes, and to see that it be not stained, and we look carefully to our jewels and other things of great value: so also, when holy Scripture tells us of our dignity; when it reminds us that we are the sons of God, and that God himself is our Father; it is to the end we should take great care to preserve our hearts pure and clean; and that we behave ourselves in all our actions, so as becomes those who have the honour to bear the character of the sons of God, and that we never degenerate from the noble and high sentiments with which that great dignity ought to inspire us." (Ep. 243, ca. 19.) The saying also of St. Leo Pope is well adapted to our purpose. " Consider," says he, " O Christian! what thy dignity is; and seeing thou art made partaker of the divine nature, suffer not thyself to fall back into thy ancient baseness, by attaching thyself too much to the things of this life; reflect on that head and body, whereof thou hast the honour to be a member". (Serm. 1. de Nat. Dom.) St. Paul represented the same thing heretofore to the Athenians, telling them, "That we descended from God; and it is from him we derive our origin" (Acts, xvii. 28', 29), and thereby he wishes to inspire them with sentiments worthy their noble extraction. But to make a still fuller and a more particular application of what is here said, and of the comparison of the rich robes mentioned by St. Austin, let us consider, that as the smallest stain is more indecent in a fine robe; and the richer the cloth is, the more the stain appears, inasmuch that what appears very considerable upon cloth of gold ​or silver, can hardly be perceived upon that of a coarser kind; in like manner the stain of a venial sin, nay many times even that of a mortal sin, is scarce taken notice of amongst seculars, or it is looked upon only as a trifle, there being so great and general a corruption in the world. But in religious, who are the dearly beloved of God, the least imperfection is very considerable — the least immodesty, the least murmuring, the least impatient or hasty word is a very great offence, and gives great occasion of scandal amongst us. But amongst seculars, there is so little account made of such things, that oftentimes they never reflect on, nor take any notice of them. To have dust on our feet troubles us not, but the least particle that gets into the apple of the eye puts us to very great pain. Men in the world are like the feet of the mystical body of the Church, and religious resemble the eyes of the same body; so that the least fault in a religious is of very great and very bad consequence, because it works a far worse effect in him than it can do in a secular; and for this reason a religious lies under a greater obligation of watching, and taking care of all his actions than others do.
Another means already stated in one of the preceding chapters, which will serve to encourage us still more, is, that we should always imagine we have a great way to go, and that as yet we have advanced but very little. Our blessed Saviour also insinuates the adoption of this means by these words, " Be ye perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect." For what, think you, does our Saviour mean by saying so? Can it be, that we should ever be able to come near the perfection of our heavenly Father? "Can any man be just in comparison of God?" (Job, iv. 17.) No, certainly. Whatever degree of perfection we can possibly arrive at, there will still remain an infinite distance between his perfection and ours. And yet our Saviour says to us, "Be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect." To let us understand that in the career of virtue there are no bounds, and therefore we should never be satisfied with what we have already done, but should labour continually to acquire what we still want. It is a usual saying with holy men, and with a great deal of reason, that a most certain sign of a person's being far from perfection is that he thinks himself arrived at it. For on the road of a spiritual life, the more a man travels, the more plainly he sees that he has advanced but little. St. Bonaventure says, " That the more a man ascends a hill, the more extensive will be his prospect; in like manner, the nearer we come to the top ​of the mountain of perfection the greater we perceive the extent of virtue to be." (De Prof. Rel. ca. 21.) When we contemplate a high mountain at a distance, we imagine that it reaches so near the heavens, that were we upon the top thereof, we fancy we might be able to touch the clouds with our hand; but having travelled on, and got up to the very top, we find that we are still far from the heavens; just so it happens with those who travel in the way of perfection, and advance perpetually in the knowledge and love of God. St. Cyprian explaining the words of the Psalmist, "Man shall arrive at the greatest height that his heart is capable of and God will still be more and more exalted," says, " That the higher our souls are by degrees raised to the knowledge of God, the higher he appears still exalted above us. Whatever knowledge of God you have attained, and how great soever your love is of him, there remain still infinite degrees of knowledge and love of him, beyond what you have already acquired." (Ad Corn. Pap. Ps. lxiii. 8.) In fine, there will still remain a great way to ascend, in the path that leads up to perfection, and whosoever imagines that he has got to the top, is yet very far from it, which makes him so easily imagine he can reach the heavens with his hand.
This may be understood by what is experienced in human sciences, viz., that the more a man knows, the more he finds he has still to learn. This made the wisest of all the philosophers say, " All that I know, is, that I know nothing." (Socrates.) And an excellent musician was wont to say, that it grieved him to find he understood nothing of music; because he discovered in that science things of such vast extent, that he perceived he could never arrive at any perfection in it. On the contrary, the ignorant, who are not sensible of their own wants, and who see not how many' things they have still to learn, readily imagine that they know a great deal. Just so it is in spiritual science. Those who are best versed .in perfection, know they have a great way still to go, before they can arrive at their end; and therefore the more they improve in this knowledge, the more humble they become; because according to that proportion or progress they make in other virtues, they make the same also in the virtue of humility, and in the knowledge and contempt of themselves, which are things inseparable one from the other. For the more knowledge they acquire of the goodness and majesty of God, the more clearly they perceive their own misery and nothingness. " One abyss invokes another" (Ps. xli. 8), says the Royal Prophet. The great abyss of the ​knowledge of God, and of his goodness and infinite majesty, discovers to us the depth of our own misery; and it is by the beams of this divine light, that we best perceive the many atoms of our imperfections, and how much we still want of being perfect But he who is yet but a beginner in the practice of virtue, by not knowing how many things are still requisite for its attainment, is apt to fancy that he is already, in a very high degree, become master of it. It many times happens with a man, who has little or no skill in painting, that when he sees a picture, he presently admires it, and discovers no fault; but if an excellent painter happens to view1 it, and to consider it attentively, he will observe many defects. The same occurs in spiritual matters. He who has not attained to the art of self-knowledge, cannot perceive the faults which lie concealed in the tablet of his own soul; whereas another man, who is better skilled in that art, would quickly discover them.
Let this, therefore, serve to augment in us daily a desire of acquiring the virtue still wanting to us; for, " Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after justice" (Matt. v. 6); that is to say, as St. Jerom explains it, such as never think themselves perfect enough, but always labour to improve in virtue. Thus did the Royal Prophet, when he said to Almighty God: li Wash me still more and more from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin" (Ps. 1. 4), as if he would have said: It is not enough, 6 Lord! that I should be washed, an ordinary washing and cleansing is not sufficient for me, " But I beseech thee to wash me, so as I may become whiter than snow." (Ib. 1. 9-) Let us cry to Almighty God in the same manner: " Wash me, O Lord! still more and more." Give me more humility, patience and charity; more mortification, and a more perfect and absolute resignation to your holy will in all things.
CHAPTER XVII.
Of the Perseverance we ought to have in Virtue.
St. Austin, explaining the words of St. Paul, " No one is crowned, but he who lawfully fights (2 Tim. ii. 5), says, that to fight lawfully, is to fight with perseverance to the end, and that only those who fight ill this manner deserve a crown. And upon this occasion he alleges, what St. Jerom also says, that ​"Many begin well, but few end well." (Contra Jovin.) Of this we have a great example in the Israelites. Holy Scripture observes, that there went out of Egypt about six hundred thousand men, besides women and children; and that nevertheless, of all that great number, there were but two that entered into the Land of Promise. " It is then," adds the saint, " no great matter to begin, but the chief thing is to perfect what we have begun; for it is in that alone that perfection consists." (Aug. Serm. ad frat. in Erem.) St. Ephrem makes use of a very just comparison on this subject, saying, "That as when you build a house, the greatest difficulty is not only in laying the foundation, but in raising the building to its perfect height; and that the higher the building is raised, the more the labour and expenses increase: so in the spiritual building, the hardest task is not to lay the foundation, but to carry your work on to perfection ." (Exhort, ad Piet.) It will avail us nothing to have begun well, unless we also end well. "In Christians," says St. Jerom, "we consider not how they begin, but how they end. St. Paul began ill, but ended well; Judas began well and ended ill." (Ad Furiam vid.) What did it avail him to have been an apostle of Jesus Christ, and to have wrought miracles? Wherefore what will your good beginnings avail, if a miserable end contradicts and gives them the lie? It is to perseverance only, that the crown is promised: "He who shall persevere to the end," says the Son of God, "shall be saved." (Mat. xxiv. 13.) Jacob saw Almighty God, not at the foot, nor in the middle, but at the top of the ladder; to let us know, says St. Jerom, that "It is not enough to begin well, nor yet to continue to do well only for a time, unless we hold on and persevere to the end." (Ep. ad Ab. Gaurin.) " What does it avail," says St. Bernard, " to follow Jesus Christ, unless we overtake him at last?" Wherefore St. Paul bids us " Run so, as that at last we may gain the prize." ( 1 Cor. ix. 24.) Let thy race, O Christian! and thy progress in virtue have no other bounds, than what Jesus Christ prescribed to himself: " He rendered himself obedient even to death." It is in vain for you to run, unless you continue your race to the last moment of your life. Without this you will never get the prize.
The Son of God gives us a special warning of this, when he assures us, that " Whoever puts his hand to the plough, and looks back, is not fit for the kingdom of heaven." (Luke, ix. 62.) As also when, at another time, he bids us " Remember Lot's ​wife." (Ib. xvii. 32.) What was it she did? God having brought her out of Sodom, in order to save her from the fire which consumed that city, she stopped upon the way, and turned to look behind her, and immediately in the very place where she turned her head, she was changed into a statue of salt. Would you know, says St. Austin, what this signifies? Salt seasons and preserves everything, and our Saviour would have us remember Lot's wife, to the end, that, reflecting upon what happened to her we may preserve ourselves with that salt, which her transformation does furnish us with; that is to say, that taking warning by the example of her punishment, we may go on and persevere in that good course of life, into which we are entered, without stopping or looking behind us, lest we ourselves should be turned also into statues, from which others may take salt, for their own preservation. Alas! how many are there now-a-days, who serve us for statues of salt, like that of Lot's wife? How many are there whose fall may serve us for a warning, and become of very great advantage to us, in order to our eternal salvation? Let us then be wise at other men's cost, and let us endeavour to do nothing that may make others become wise at our expense.
St. Austin and St. Jerom farther add and say, that " To begin well and end ill, is to make a monster, as if a painter, after he had drawn the head of a man, should add to it the neck of a horse. (Ad frat. in Erem. ser. 8.) St. Paul, writing to the Galatians, reprehends them very severely for proceeding after this manner. "What," says he, "are you grown to such a height of folly, as that having once begun well in the spirit you will needs end in the flesh? Senseless men! who has bewitched you, thus to rebel against truth?" (Gal. iii. 3.)
But to the end we may obtain God's holy grace to persevere in doing well, we must strive to lay at first a good foundation of virtue and mortification; for if the foundation be weak, the building will quickly come to lean, and so fall to the ground. That fruit into which the worm has once crept, never ripens, but soon falls from the tree; whilst that which is sound, sticks fast to the branch, till it is perfectly ripe; in the same manner if your virtue be not solid, and your heart not wholly possessed by God, and if you still cherish the same worm of presumption, of pride, of impatience, or any other irregular passion; that worm will by degrees corrupt your heart, and consume all its best juice and substance; and to speak more clearly, you will run the danger ​of not persevering. "Wherefore it is very necessary to confirm and fortify your heart by grace" (Heb. xiii. 9) and in time to lay a solid foundation of true virtue.
Albertus Magnus, explaining by what means we ought to confirm ourselves in virtue, to be the better able to persevere, says, that a true Christian ought to be so well grounded in virtue, and have it so firmly rooted in his heart, that it may be always in his power to practise it, without any dependence upon what other men can say or do to him. There are persons who outwardly seem to have the spirit of meekness and humility, so long as nothing thwarts them, and all things happen as they wish; but upon the least cross accident that occurs, this peace vanishes, and they presently take fire, and discover what they are. Such men as those, says Albertus, have not the virtue of peace and humility in their own, but in other men's minds and humours; so that if your virtue be such as this, it belongs to others and not to you, since it lies in their power to give, or take it from you, whensoever they please. But your virtue, if it be true, must be your own, and not of another's growth, and the fund ought always to be at your own disposal, without any dependence upon another. We may make a very just comparison of such persons as those, to a stagnant water which yields no bad smell or vapour, so long as you do not trouble it; but disturb it once, and it sends forth so intolerable a stench as is enough to poison the standers by. Just so it is with these men. As long as you leave them to themselves, as long as nobody vexes them they are in profound peace, they seem as quiet as stagnant water that offends nobody; but as soon as they are molested or the least moved, presently such pernicious vapours are raised, as give great scandal, and very bad example to their neighbour. " Touch the mountains" (Ps. cxliii. 5), says the Psalmist, " and they will smoke."
CHAPTER XVIII.
Of Spiritual Exhortations, and what is requisite to derive Advantage from them.
Amongst the many means religion furnishes us with for our better assistance and encouragement in our spiritual progress, a principal one is that of sermons, and spiritual exhortations. ​On the present occasion, therefore, I intend to shew how, and in what manner we ought to hear them, so as to derive advantage from them; and what I shall say, relating to ourselves in particular, may also serve as a general instruction to all sorts of persons, and teach them how to profit by the hearing of sermons. The first disposition necessary for that end is, that we do not frequent sermons out of custom, nor merely because it is a part of a Christian's duty to do so, but to hear them with a true and earnest desire of improving by them. Let us consider with what zeal the ancient fathers in the desert were wont to resort to these spiritual banquets, and what store of good provisions they carried back with them to their cells. With the like fervour we ought to go to those exhortations that are made for us, and then they cannot fail of doing as great good to our souls, as good meat does to our bodies, which nourishes and strengthens him that sits down to table with a good appetite. St Chrysostom observes, that as hunger is a sign of the body's being in good health, so a longing desire of being nourished with the word of God is a certain sign of a good and happy disposition of the soul. But if you do not thirst after the divine word, nor find any gust in it, it is a certain sign that you are sick; and that your soul is in a very dangerous condition; seeing it loathes that food, which is so proper for its nourishment. Besides, though it were only to hear the preacher speak of Almighty God, that alone should suffice to make us run joyfully to hear him: for, naturally a man is glad to hear another speak well of one he loves. So if you have a true love for God, you cannot but be overjoyed to hear the preacher speak well of him. For, as our blessed Saviour says, " He who is of God, hears the word of God, and the reason why you desire not to hear it is, because you are not of God." (John, viii. 47.)
In the second place, if we intend to improve ourselves by the sermons we hear, we must not hear them with a spirit of curiosity; as for example, to observe the good language, the graceful action and pronunciation, the novelty and turn of thought of the preacher, together with his manner of delivery. It is this for which, with great reason, we blame many seculars, and which is the cause of their profiting so little by sermons. But instead of minding such things as these, we must apply ourselves wholly to attend to the substance of the discourse. What should you say of a sick man, that was going to be let blood, who instead of letting the surgeon open his vein, should ​amuse himself in looking upon the lancet, and admiring its workmanship? Would you not persuade him to forbear that idle curiosity, and tell him that it is his business to be let blood; that what he was to mind now, was to have his vein opened; and the rest was little or nothing to the purpose. It is the same with those who, instead of attending to that which is most essential in a sermon, to that whence they could extract the so necessary nourishment of their souls, stop at the rind, and attend to nothing more than to the plan and division of the discourse, to the strength and beauty of the language — in a word, to that which is only an idle ornament and a vain artifice of eloquence. Such men as these may justly be compared to a sieve and a sarse which retain only the chaff and bran, and let all the grain and flour pass through them. Holy Scripture tells us, that when Esdras (2 Esd. viii ) read the law of God to the people of Israel, all the people were so moved, that reflecting upon their past lives, they wept most bitterly, comparing their actions with the law of God, which ought to have been their rule, and which was delivered to them for that end. Insomuch that the Levites felt it extremely difficult to suppress their sighing. It is after this manner we ought to hear sermons, with a wholesome and profitable confusion for our faults; comparing our lives with the doctrine we hear preached; examining the difference there is between what we are, and what we ought to be; considering, in fine, how far we are from the perfection proposed to us to practise.
There is a third point which will confirm still more and more the preceding one, and which being presupposed will also serve as an excellent precaution against the spirit of curiosity, and will dispose us better to derive advantage from what we hear. It is, and the whole world ought to believe it, that exhortations are not made to unfold to us any new extraordinary duties, but only to revive in us the memory of the more common and ordinary duties, and thereby to inspire us with more fervour to put them in practice. In effect, it is particularly upon this account that St. Ignatius (Part iii. Const, cap. i.) required so frequent exhortations amongst us; for in the third part of the Constitutions, after he had established the rules set down in the summary; " Let there be," says he, " some one appointed, who every week or at least every fortnight, may remind us of these Rules, and other such like instructions; lest, through the weakness of our nature, we may forget them, and at last come to ​neglect and discontinue their practice." Father Natalia takes a cursory notice of this, in his remarks upon the Constitutions; saying, that though the Constitutions speak only of eight or fifteen days,' yet, the custom observed throughout the whole society is to make these exhortations regularly every week. And doubtless none could speak with more certainty on this point than he, who visited almost all the houses of the society, and knew perfectly well all their practices. Hence these exhortations being made on subjects already very well known to us, our facility in forgetting them is the reason why they cannot be too often set before our eyes. But suppose we remember them ever so well, yet it would be in vain that our memories should be faithful, if our wills also be not fervent; and therefore it is to warm and animate us, that the obligations we have contracted by our profession, and the end for which we came to religion, are so often repeated and inculcated to us. The opinion of St. Austin is very true, that "The understanding is quick and ready, but the, motion of the will is very slow:" wherefore we ought often to touch and treat upon the same matter, and in a manner rivet it in our minds, as St. Paul endeavoured when he wrote to the Philippians, saying, " Moreover, my brethren, rejoice in our Lord: it is no pain at all to me, but for you it is very necessary, that I often write and repeat the same thing to you." (Phil. iii. 1.) The apostle having been wrapt to the third heaven, without doubt wanted not matter; he had new things enough, and very elevated too, to tell them of: yet for all this, he believed himself obliged to repeat only these things, wherewith he had before entertained them; because he knew these were more necessary for them than the others. And this ought to be the particular object of him who makes exhortations or sermons. He ought not to think of what may make himself appear more eloquent, or more profound; for hereby he would rather preach himself, than preach to others. But he should consider what will be most useful to his audience, and propose only those things from which they may reap most profit. Thus they will not become weary of hearing those common things they already know; because they will presently perceive, that either they neglect to perform them or at least to not practise them with all possible perfection; and therefore it is always necessary they should be put in mind of them.
In the fourth place it will be of very great profit, that whatever is said in exhortations, be received by us as particularly said to ​ourselves, and not as a thing which regards others; and let us not act herein as worldly persons ordinarily do, when they hear a sermon. A preacher addresses himself to them, for example, in this manner — You are like, says he, to those, whose employment it is to carve at great men's tables, and help others, without taking any meat for themselves. When you hear me say this, you cry out; an excellent reflection indeed, and very proper for such a one! this is quite adapted to one of my aquaintance! if such a one were here, O how it would answer him! — and notwithstanding after all this carving for others, you keep nothing for yourself. In this banquet of the word of God, I would have all of you to be of the number of guests, and not of the carvers. " All that a prudent man shall hear, that is good and profitable, he will practise," says Ecclesiasticus, "and will apply it to himself; but a vain, ambitious man will not hear but with disgust, and will cast it behind his back." (Ecclus. xxi. 18.) Let us then endeavour to be of the number of guests; of the number of those wise men, who so take to themselves what is said, as if it were spoken to them alone, and to none else. For perhaps that which seems to you to be very well applied to another, may be better applied to yourself, if you knew yourself better than you do; and if you were not like those, who can " Perceive a mote in their neighbour's eye, yet see not a beam in their own." (Mat. vii. 3.) But though in effect there should be nothing in what is said, which any way touches or concerns you at present, yet neglect not to hoard it up in your mind for the future; perhaps you will soon come to stand in need of it, and by this means you can never fail always to take what is said as addressed to yourself only.
In the fifth place, the better to explain what we have said, it is fit that every one should presuppose, that oftentimes in exhortations the preacher reprehends certain faults not as though he actually believed them practised by any of his auditors; but only with a design to hinder the practice or the introduction of such imperfections for the future. The physic which by precaution is given to prevent diseases, is no less advantageous than that which is given to cure them. Wherefore in our exhortations, we ought to have regard to this, following the counsel of the Wise Man, " Before sickness comes, make Use of remedies." (Ecclus. xviii. 20.) And as we ordinarily strive to apply the remedy before the disease is formed, or comes to a crisis; so we exhort to virtue and perfection; we blame vice and remissness; ​to the end that being advertised of the danger he is in, every one may the better stand upon his guard, and take care lest he fell. Moreover as to the preacher, he ought not note, or point out any one in particular: for this would be a great imprudence in him, because he would hereby reap less fruit, and give great occasion of scandal. Wherefore it would be very ill done to think, and still worse to express, that this was said for such a one, this for another; and it would be forming a very rash judgment of the preacher to think that he had anything so unreasonable in view. But though, both on the preacher's and the auditor's part, there ought to be a great circumspection in this matter, and that it is always very good that every one takes what is said as said to himself, yet I would not that any one should frame to himself, that the preacher had a design to point him out; for such a thought as this must never enter into our minds; but what I desire is, that laying our hands upon our hearts, we confront our life and actions with the doctrine he preaches, and say to ourselves, certainly what he says may very well be addressed to me; I have great need of this warning, it is God that has put this into his mouth for my good. In this manner we shall let nothing pass, from which we may not derive some fruit, either for our amendment, or our greater perfection. The gospel takes notice, that after the discourse our Saviour had had with the Samaritan, she said to all she met with, " Come and see a' man who has told me all things that I have ever done." (John, iv. 29.) When the preacher speaks in this manner to his audience, and tells them what passes in their hearts, then he may securely judge that he effectually makes a good sermon, and that his exhortation becomes fruitful.
In the last place, we ought to be convinced that the word of God is the nourishment and sustenance of the soul; and therefore we should always endeavour, in every exhortation we tear, to carry something away with us, and conserve and lay it up in our hearts, whence we may obtain more strength and force to begin anew. " The grain which is sown in good ground," says our Saviour, " signifies those who hear the word of God with a heart well disposed; and retain the same, and make it bring forth good fruit in due season." (Luke, viii. 15.) St. Gregory explaining this passage says, that the body is in a very bad state of health, when the stomach cannot keep or retain any nourishment, but throws up whatever it takes. (Hom. 15.) In the same manner, the soul is in a dangerous ​state, when the heart retains not the word of God. The Royal Prophet knew this truth very well, when he said, " I have hid thy words in the bottom of my heart, to the end I may not sin against thee." (Ps. cxix. 11.) And in effect how often does it happen, that we are tempted, and are in danger of yielding to the temptation, and that then remembering only some passage of Scripture, or some holy maxim we heard in a sermon, we regain new strength, and derive from it very powerful assistance? And we know that by three passages of Scripture, our Saviour overcame the three temptations, wherewith the enemy assaulted him.
By all that has been said, it is easy to comprehend, in how great an error these are, and what prejudice they do themselves, who go to sermons and exhortations for fashion sake; or suffer themselves to be overcome with sleep and distractions during the sermon. " The devil," says our Saviour in the gospel, " comes and snatches the word of God out of their hearts, lest they should believe and be saved." (Luke, viii. 12.) And it is in this manner, that unhappily is verified in them the parable of the grain which was eaten by the birds as soon as it was sown. Perhaps one word which you lost when you were asleep or distracted, would have contributed very much to your spiritual advancement; and for that reason the devil, who nourishes a mortal envy and hatred against you, endeavours by all means possible to prevent this good seed from taking root in your heart. St. Austin says, " That the word of God is like a fish-hook which never takes, but when it is taken; and as the fish remains a prize to the hook, so we remain a prize to the word of God, when we take and receive it." And for this reason the devil exerts all his powers to hinder us from receiving it, lest our heart should thereby be engaged, and we should never be able to get loose or free ourselves. Let us endeavour therefore to go to sermons and exhortations with so requisite a disposition as this is; and to hear the word of God in such sort, that it take root in our heart, and produce the fruit of justice. " Practise it," says St. James, " and be not content to hear it only, thereby deceiving yourself; for he who hears the word of God, and practises it not, is like a man that considers his face in a glass: he views himself, and goes his way, and soon forgets what kind of man he was." (James, i. 22.) u Those who hear the law," says St. Paul, " are not just before God, but those who practise it shall be justified." (Rom. ii. 13.) ​In a book called the Spiritual Meadow, composed by John Evirat, or, according to some, by St. Sophronius, patriarch of Jerusalem, which is quoted with great respect in the second Council of Nice, we read that a holy man called Eusebius sitting one day in the field with another anchoret, called Amianus, and this Amianus reading one of the books of the gospel, which the other explained, it happened that Eusebius cast his eyes upon the labourers who tilled the ground in an adjoining field, and at the same time this distraction hindered him from attending to what was read; so that Amianus lighting by chance upon a very hard passage, asked him its explanation. Eusebius, who had not attended, desired him to read it the second time; whereby Amianus came to know he had been distracted, and repeating it, told him it was no wonder he had not heard the words of the gospel, since be had distracted himself by looking upon the workmen. Eusebius remained so confounded at this rebuke, that for the future he strictly prohibited his eyes from beholding either that plain or the stars of heaven any more; and presently rising up, he took a little by-path, and retired into a poor cell which he never afterwards quitted; living more than forty years in this strait prison, to which he had condemned himself. He confirmed this his resolution by such a kind of necessity, as might force him to keep it. For he bound his reins with a girdle of iron, and put another of a great weight about his neck, and then joined these two together by a great chain, which he fastened to the earth; to the end he might always be constrained to remain in such a bent or bowing posture, that he could not go into the fields round about him, nor so much as look upon them, nor even lift up his eyes to heaven. This was the manner wherein this holy man chastised himself for one light inadvertency, for one single dissipation of mind, whilst the other read the word of God. Is not this sufficient to give us an extreme confusion, seeing the little concern we have for all those distractions, that daily happen to us on the like occasions?