Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2017 with funding from Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries https://archive.org/details/spiritualmaximsoOOgrou THE SPIRITUAL MAXIMS OIT PEKE GKOU. V LONDON: J. T. HAYES, LYALL PLACE, EATON SQUARE; & 4. HENRIETTA ST., CO VENT GARDEN. & 0 . Qv/ These Maximes Spintuelles,'^ rough and inelegant, but singularly deep and earnest, are perhaps among the most valuable writings of their experienced author. Widely differing from the ordinary Jesuit teaching of the present day, the spirit of Pere Grou is almost identical with that embodied in our sound old English ascetic books, such as the Scale of Perfection^ Sancta Sophia, etc. The present version is slightly abridged from the original, but the sixth chapter contains a few supplementary pages from the Interieur de Jesus, by the same writer. S. Mabgabet’s, East Gkinsted, Quinquagesima, 1874. SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. FIRST INIAXIM. %}i t})t Tadtier of !)oti'm'S0 men vise and descend at one and tde same time. Noiv mine eye seeth Thee: wherefore 1 abhor mysel/T I. OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD AND OF SELF. All holiness is contained in two points : know- ledge of God, and knowledge of self. Lord, make me to know Thee, and to know myself. The prayer is short, but its meaning is infinite. Knowledge of God elevates the soul ; knowledge of self, humbles it. The former lifts it to the abyss of Divine perfections ; the latter sinks it to its own abyss of nothingness and sin. And the great marvel is, that this very knowledge of God which lifts man up, humbles him at the same time by the comparison of himseK with God ; and seK-know- ledge, while it humbles him, lifts him up by ne- cessitating his approach to God, as the assuager of his misery. IMarvellous ladder of sanctity, whereon men descend while they ascend, and in the same proportion ! For the true elevation of man is inseparable from his true humiliation. The first without the last, is pride ; the last without the B 2 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. first, is despairing wretchedness. If self-hnow- ledge did not make him little in his own eyes, what would be the effect upon him of the sublimest knowledge of God ? He would be lost in the exaltation of his thoughts. Or what would avail the knowledge of his exceeding meanness and misery, if the knowledge of God did not counterbalance it? He could only fall into horrible despair. But this twofold know- ledge tends to make him holy ; for holiness requires him to feel and own that he is nothing in himself, that he receives all things from God in the order of nature and of grace, and that he expects all- things from Him in the order of glory. When I speak of the knowledge of God, I mean no abstract, ideal knowledge, such as was possessed by the disciples of Pythagoras and Plato. They lost their way in vain and barren spe- culations, the only effect of which was to increase their pride. The Christian’s knowledge of God is not an endless course of reasonings on His essence and perfections, like those of a mathe- matician on the circle and triangle. • Many philosophers and theologians, who held grand and noble ideas of the Divine Nature, were none the more virtuous or holy in consequence. But what we ought to know, is, what He has Himself revealed concerning the Blessed Trinity, and the work of each of its Persons in Creation, Kedemp- tion, and Sanctification ; His power, providence, holiness, goodness, justice, and love ; the extent and multitude of His mercies, the marvellous economy of His gra.ce, the magnificence of His promises and rewards, the terror of His threaten- ings and the rigour of His chastisements; the wor- ship He requires, the precepts He imposes, the MAXni I. S virtues He sets forth as our duty, the .motives by which He incites us to their practice ; we ought to know, in fact, what He is to us, and what He wills that we should be to Him. This is the true and useful knowledge of God, taught in every page of Holy Scripture, and ne- cessary for all Christians : which cannot be too deeply studied, without which none can become holy, and the substance of which is indispensably necessary to salvation. This should be the great object of reflection, meditation, and prayer for light. Let no man fancy that he can ever know enough, or enter sufficiently into so rich a sub- ject. It is in every sense inexhaustible : the more we discover in it, the more we see there is yet to be discovered. It is an ever- deepening ocean for the navigator : an unattainable mountain height for the traveller, whose scope of vision yet in- creases with every upward step. The knowledge of God grows in us together with our own holiness ; both are capable of expanding in- finitely ; and we must set no bounds to either. This knowledge is not merely intellectual ; it goes straight to the heart ; touches it, penetrates, reforms, ennobles, and kindles it with the love of all virtues. He who really knows God, cannot fail to possess lively faith, firm hope, ardent love, filial fear, thorough trust, and entire submission. He finds no difficulty in avoiding evil and doing well ; he complains of no rigour in God’s law, but wonders at its mildness, and loves and em- braces it in all its fulness ; he keeps the precepts, and the counsels too. He contemns earthly things, not judging them worthy of attention ; uses them as notabusing them, and, looking not at the things seen, which are temporal, passes swiftly through B 2 4 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. them towards the things eternal. The sweetest attractions of the world do not tempt him ; its dangers do not imperil him ; nor do its terrors alarm him. His body is on earth ; but his soul is, by thought and desire, in heaven already. This knoAvledge is drawn from Holy Scripture, rightly studied. But many men read it without understanding, or understand the letter only, and not the spirit. The sacred writings are the source of all that God has been pleased to reveal to us of His essence and perfections, His natural and supernatural Avorks, His designs regarding man, the end He aaqIIs him to attain, and the means conducive to that end. Therein we see that God is the Beginning of all things, that He governs all, and intends all for His glory, and has done all for Himself, there being no other object pos- sible to him. We see the plan, economy and se- quence of religion ; and the close connection of the rise and fall of empires with that great sub- ject. To sum up the Avhole in few words : in Holy Scripture, and therein alone, is to be found all that man need knoAV concerning his salvation, and that can fill his soul with fear and veneration and love of God. This knoAvledge is to be found, besides, in the Avritings of the Saints, and in other pious books, Avhich are only expansions of Scripture, and are good in proportion as they express its meaning Avell and explain it perfectly. It is to be found aboA^e all in immediate inter- course AAuth God, by means of prayer and medita- tion. They looked unto Him, and AA^ere lightened, saith the prophet. God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. His presence casts out dark- ness from the soul that prays. Yes. The soul is MAXIM I. 5 better instructed concerning Divine things by prayer alone, than wise men are by all their study. Many simple and unlearned persons, taught in the school of God, speak more fitly of Him, more nobly, and fluently, and fervently, than the ablest doctors who, not being men of prayer, speak and write of heavenly things in a dry and painful way, devoid of grandeur, warmth, and feeling. But besides this knowledge, which may be called luminous, because it belongs to the mind, there is another which consists in feeling alone, and is the portion of the heart. This is something sweeter, stronger, and deeper. It is a certain sense given by God of Himself and of His Pi •esence. He seems to say to the soul : Taste and see how gracious the Lord is. The advan- tage of this knowledge beyond the other is, that it binds the will to God much more strongly. Here the soul acts not at all : God acts within it, and sets it aglow with a spark of His own bliss. S. Antony knew God after this sort when he complained that the sun rose too early, and put an end to his prayer ; and so did S. Francis when he spent whole nights repeating with wonderful de- light those words: “ My God, and my All.” This sense of God, this experimental knowledge, was the desire of all Saints, and the fruit of their union with Him. If God is thus to give Himself to us, we must wholly give ourselves to Him, be- cause He bestows this great grace on none but His best beloved. When, like S. Francis, we have given up all things, when we, too, care for no one and nothing but God, then we may as truly and as earnestly say : “ My God, and my All.” It is quite impossible to explain this sense of 6 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. God. What is confined to the heart presents no idea to the mind, and is not to be expressed in words. How could the depth of supernatuial things be rendered by words, which are inadequate to represent mere natural affections and feelings ? But for him to call such things dreams and fancies, who knows nothing of them, is all the same as to deny the effect of natural love on the heart, be- cause he has not felt it himself. Certainly, this sense of God lifts the soul to a greater height than any illuminative knowledge has the power of doing, and renders it capable of heroic designs and perfect sacrifices. Self-knowledge is no less precious than the knowledge of God, nor is it less necessary to holi- ness. If we know ourselves, we do ourselves jus- tice ; we think of ourselves exactly as we are ; we see ourselves as God sees us. And what does He see ? Sin and nothingness ; and no more. We have no other possessions of our own : everything else comes from God, and must be attributed to Him. If we know ourselves thus, what must be our humility, and our contempt and hatred of self? I am absolutely nothing. I'hroughout eternity I was not, and there was no reason why I should exist, nor why I should be what I am. My ex- istence is the simple effect of God’s Will : He bestowed it on me as it pleased Him. He pre- serves it : if His mighty Hand were not uphold- ing me every moment, I should fall back into nothingness. My soul and body, the good qua- lities of both, everything estimable or pleasing in me, all comes from God. On that foundation, education did its work ; and, all things consi- dered, this very education was rather a gift from MAXIM I. / God, than the result of my own industry and ap- plication. Not only what I am, but what I have, what I enjoy, what surrounds me, whatever I meet with wherever I go, all comes from God, and is for my use. I am nothing : and, except God, all else is nothing. What then can I love and esteem in myself or in others ? Nothing but what God has given. Thence it follows, that in all which is, of itself, nothing, and exists only by the will of God, I must only love and esteem God and His gifts. And this is a strong foundation of humility and of contempt for self and created things. But this is not all. I am sin, by my own will, by my abuse of my most excellent gift of liberty. What mean these words, I am sin ? In the first place : that in the depths of my nature, and even by my being brought out of nothingness, I have the wretched power of offending God, of becom- ing His enemy, of transgressing His law, of fail- ing in my duty, and of falling short for ever of my true end ; and this power is so inherent in me, as a creature, that nothing can part it from me. The power of sinning has, since Adam’s fall, be- come a tendency, and a strong inclination, to sin. By his fault I lost the perfect equilibrium of liberty, in which I should otherwise have been created. In the second place ; that since I have had the use of reason, I have actually sinned ; and have 1 )een guilty of a great number of offences more or less grievous. Very small is the number of those who have retained their baptismal innocence ; and as to venial sins, which are greatly harm- ful, they are prone to blemish even the highest sanctity. SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. ’8 In the third place : that there is no sin, how- ever enormous, that I cannot commit, if I am not always on my guard, and if God does not preserve me from it. There only needs an oppor- tunity, a temptation, an act of unfaithfulness, to induce the most fearful train of consequences. The greatest Saints believed this of themselves ; and we shall not go wrong in believing it of ourselves, after their example. In the fourth place : being once fallen, i am ab- solutely unable to rise again in my own strength, or truly to repent of my sin. If God do not open my eyes, move my will, hold out a helping hand, all is over with me ; 1 shall heap up sins, and shun amendment, and harden myself, and die in impenitence ; and I have always need to fear this terrible catastrophe, no matter what pitch of virtue I may have reached. This is not all : my wretched inclination to evil is united to an equal distaste for all things good. All law is irksome to me ; it seems to threaten my liberty ; every duty is unpleasant ; every act of virtue costs an eifort. Besides, I am, in my- self, incapable of any supernatural work, and even of thinking of, or designing, any such. I conti- nually need present grace, to inspire good actions, and help me in their performance. In this state, which is that of my whole life, how can I think well of myself? of what can I boast ? and concerning what can I not be griev- ously ashamed and confounded ? This is the self-knowledge imparted by faith, combined with the testimony of my own feelings and experience. The purest and healthiest of philosophies would never have taught me half so much. Man has ever been the chief object MAXIM I. 9 of tlie study and the consideration of sages. But the most glorious genius, with all its pene- tration and all its researches, can never learn self-knowledge; and, to my mind, that is an exceedingly humbling thing. If faith do not en- lighten me, reason alone will never tell me that 1 came forth from nothing, and that God is my (.■reator ; it never told any ancient sages that truth : they were all ignorant of this primary connection between man and God, which is the foundation of all the rest. And how strangely at a loss they were, in consequence of their igno- rance respecting the origin of man ! What marvellous absurdities they uttered on the sub- ject ! Our modern infidels have done very much the same. As concerns tendency to evil, and repugnance to good, the inherent frailty of creatui*es, the nature of sin considered with regard to God, and the necessity of grace ; the most religious philosophy had a faint glimmering on some points, and clear notions on none ; but in most respects it was involved in thick darkness. Then what did it know about the matter? What no one can ignore : the troubles of life, the weakness of childhood, the infirmity of age, the natural defects of body and mind, the pas- sions, and their tyranny and disorder, the ne- cessity of death, and, together with that, the uncertainty of a future state. This was a wretched, miserable sort of knowledge, and made most philosophers bitterly revile nature, and accuse her of treating us like an unjust stepmother. They were right enough, according to their lights ; and the destiny of man must have ap- peared the more deplorable to them, because 10 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. they could find no remedy for his troubles, cither in their own vain systems, or in the false religion of the people. Yet they were rather offended than humbled by this knowledge, painful as it was ; because it really was too imperfect, and, though it could not fathom the depths of our misery, offered no counterpoise to that portion which it did perceive. It is otherwise with our holy faith. Our reli- gion makes man little in his own eyes, deeply humbles him, reduces him to nothingness, and less than nothingness, but at the same time supports and comforts him, and rouses hope, and shows him what great cause he has to trust in God. And indeed it also gives him a high, idea of himself, for it unveils his true greatness, the nobleness of his faculties, his close connec- tion with God, the sublimity of his destiny, the fatherly care of Providence, the inestimable benefit of redemption, and the price paid for his soul by God Incarnate. It even teaches him to reverence his body, as the temple of God, in- tended one day in glorious resurrection to share the eternal happiness of the soul. This is the knowledge religion gives us con- cerning human nature ; and this light is safe, for it is'founded on infrangible revelation ; it is bright and piercing, and perpetually increased by study and the practice of piety ; it crushes down human pride, and elevates the soul with a Divine uplifting. But, in addition to the motives for humility furnished by study of the Gospel, and practice of its precepts, God has many and many another way of humiDling those whom He intends to MAXIM 1. 11 attain a high pitch of holiness. He makes them feel that their light is darkness, and their will weakness ; that their firmest resolutions are utterly frail, and that they are unable of them- selves to amend the smallest fault or perform the slightest act of virtue. He allows them to feel great repugnance for their duties ; their pious exercises are painful, and almost intole- rable, because they are full of dryness, listlcss- ness, and weariness ; the passions they fancied were dead rise up again, and cause them strange conflicts ; the devil tempts them in countless ways, and they seem given up to the wickedness and corruption of their own hearts ; so that they see in themselves nothing but sin and great desire to sin. In the light of His infinite holi- ness He shows them the impurity of their motives and the selfishness of their aims, the stain of self-love on their good actions and its poison in their virtues. He calls to remem- brance all their negligence, and cowardice, and faithlessness, and self-seeking, and desire of approbation and human respect ; He brings them to hate and despise themselves for their ungrateful abuse of all His many graces. For their yet greater self-abasement He ap- pears to turn Flis face from them, and dejDiives them of all sensible gifts and graces, leaving them in miserable nakedness, from the sight of which they shrink, yet cannot close their eyes. He seems to be angry with them and to forsake them ; and, on the other hand. He allows men to suspect their piety, to call it hypocrisy, to vex them with calumny and persecution ; and this He suffers to happen not only on the part of wicked men and ordinary Christians, but also 12 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. on that of virtuous persons of good understand- ing and exemplary life, who, while they decry and ill-treat these servants of God, fancy that they are honouring the Master. Christ Jesus, the Saint of saints, willed to bear all these miseries and contumelies, and greater yet than these ; because He made Himself the Yictim for sin : and upon His own beloved friends He be- stows a precious draught from the same bitter cup. Thus, perfecting humility. He perfects sanctity, and sets them in a safe hiding-place against all temjDtation. Then let us ascend and descend by this won- drous ladder of the knowledge of God and our- selves. We will mount as high and go down as low as, by the help of grace, we can ; and when we have done all we can, we will pray that God may raise and abase us yet more, by means known only to Himself. The more a soul really ascends, the less it is conscious of its ascent ; and the further it de- scends the less it apprehends its descent. This seems a paradox ; but it is most true. Advance in the knowledge of God increases the sense of unworthiness in the soul’s feelings towards Him. In like manner, the deeper it sinks in self-know- ledge, the more it is led to judge that it does not hate and despise itself enough. Thus it becomes exalted and humble, or, in other words, is an unconscious saint. C 13 ) SECOND MAXOL Htdti to ^oD, anD toe no toiH liiit ^'•Into Thy hands 1 commend my spiritd'^ II. OF CHRISTIAN LIBERTY, AND OF THE ACTIVE AND PASSIVE WAY. In order to the better comprehension of what I have now to say, I think best to lay down, in the first place, certain incontrovertible principles. At our creation God bestowed on us reason and understanding, in order that we might know and love Him; He purposed that we should eter- nally enjoy this love and knowledge, and also that such enjoyment should be our reward ; therefore it became necessary that it should be deserved. To this end he placed us on earth for a certain space of time, known only to HimseK. He gifted us wdth liberty; that is, with command over our actions, in order that, being performed by our own will, they might merit praise or blame, reward or punishment. Praise and reward are thus attached to the free fulfilment of the duties imposed on us by God ; and blame and punish- ment follow the wilful violation of those duties. Liberty, in its abstract, hath no essential power of doing good or ill ; else God, who pos- sesses supreme liberty, would not be free, because He can never will, or do, evil. Therefore our power of doing wrong does not proceed from our liberty, but from two other causes. The 14 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. first of these is, that being necessarily dependent on God by a moral dependence, our actions ought to follow the rule of His will ; so that they are morally good if they conform to it, and morally bad if they do not. The second is, that being defective in our very nature, it is possible that our conduct may swerve from this rule. From these two causes, combined with the free- will which simply makes us masters of our actions, arises that fatal power of sinning which it would be unjust and blasphemous to accuse God of having given us. It did indeed depend on Him to prevent its effect, but no reason obliged Him to do so ; and His supreme wisdom judged fitter to permit that consequence, be- cause it could not be prejudicial to His glory. Unquestionably, the most perfect liberty is that possessed by God, Who can will nothing but what is right. Therefore, the more our liberty resembles His, the nearer it approaches perfec- tion ; and the more unlike it is, the more im- perfect it becomes. The will to sin is a defect and abuse of liberty, and the stronger and more habitual the will the greater the defect. It is quite evident that we ought to desire never to abuse our liberty, but by our love of right and hatred of wrong, to bring it into the closest similarity wuth that of God. The greater our moral necessity of doing right, the more we sliall be free like Him who hath \hh necessity in His nature; the greater our moral necessity of ^oing ill, the more our liberty will be fettered. dTerefore S. Paul says that when the will yields to evil it becomes the servant of sin ; and, on the other hand, that being free from sin, it is the servant of righteousness. Two opposite condi- MAXIM 11. 15 tions : the first debases liberty; the second exalts and perfects it ; for God Hmiself is, if we may so speak, the Servant of Kighteousoess, and infi- nitely more so than we can be, and in this ser- vitude consists His perfect liberty. Thus also Christ said to the Jews : ‘‘ He that committeth sin is the servant of sin and, ‘‘ If the Son, there- fore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.” But grace alone can deliver us from the bondage of sin, and give us real liberty ; whence it follows that the more our wills subject them- selves to grace, and the more they endeavour to dej)end fully and constantly upon it, the freer they will become. Their perfect deliverance is reserved for heaven, where they will once for all be established in holiness. But in this world, however thoroughly they may have submitted themselves to the dominion of grace, they are always liable to throw off the yoke, and must always be on their guard against that risk. That risk will be the more or less imminent, according as the soul continues to be its own master, or gives itself freely up to be dealt with according as God wills. And so, all it has to do is to lay itself in His hands, to use its activity only in order to become more dependent on Him ; to let grace act freely in all circumstances, and to its full extent, the soul reserving no power to itself except in order to thorough cor- respondence with grace. These principles being laid down, it is clear that surrender of liberty is the same thing as devotion to God ; because devotion is only an engagement to forsake self-will, and follow the will of God. This gift of liberty may be made in two ways, of which one depends on ourselves, 16 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. and the other on God. It depends on ourselves, while retaining the exercise of liberty, to deter- mine that it shall be subjected to the inspira- tions of grace, and to keep to this resolution. It depends on God to make Himself really IMaster of our liberty, by reason of our thus yielding it to Him ; to govern it Himself, and, without doing it violence, to keep it captive in His hand. Hence arise two methods of serving God, one of which is called the Active, and the other the Passive way. Both are good; bv^th are agreeable to God ; both are interior ; both adapted to make saints. Following the first way, a Christian makes due use of the faculties bestowed on him by God — of memory, understanding, and will ; he exercises them himself. Although directed by grace, and fully intending to follow its direction, he yet preserves his own liberty, and considers, judges, and chooses, concerning all things per- taining to his salvation. He meditates on the truths of the Gospel; by effort of his will he acquires love for them, he applies them to him- self, and makes them the rule of his conduct. He forms resolutions, and endeavours to reduce them to practice ; he uses pious methods, and holy ingenuities suggested by the Spirit of God, or by good books and the examples of the saints. Thus, by continual thought and perseverance, together with the assistance of prayer, advice, and sacraments, he succeeds in correcting his faulty habits and in acquiring Christian virtuest Most of those who are seriously working ou. their salvation travel by this path, which is the most common, and is that taught by most popular books on devotion. This is the reason MAXIM II. 17 why we have so many methods, and exercises, and practices, for learning to meditate, or for hearing Mass, or for Confession, or Communion. And in this way it is always necessary to begin, except in peculiar cases ; and it must always be persevered in, unless God Himself call us from it. Let this point be remembered ; it is of the greatest importance, as it destroys illusions, and saps the foundations of Quietism. We enter the passive way, when we feel ourselves drawn by a strong and sweet working of grace, which, in order to gain space for its action, leads us to suspend our own ; wiien we are inwardly moved to yield up our heart and liberty and natural self-government completely and irrevocably into the hands of God. Thus God takes possession of the powers of the soul ; acts upon them, and makes them act as He will ; and man only follows, though yet freely, in the path marked out for him. He holds himself prepared to do at any moment what God may require of him ; and God, by secret inspiration, does cause him to know what He requires ; but yet this inspiration never involves disobedience to the Church, to rule, or to lawful authority; for there are no souls more docile or submissive than those which walk in this way. Here, then, all exercise of natural liberty wdth regard to interior things (for of such only am I speaking) consists in seconding, and in never forestalling. Divine motions. As soon as they are resisted, or forestalled, the human spirit is plainly at work ; but in the state of which we speak the Christian lies under the hand of God, like an instrument on which and by means of which He works. Not, however, a purely pas- c 18 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. sive instrument, but one which consents and co-oj)erates by its own act, often with extreme repugnance, and with violence to itself. Its state may very well be compared to that of a child writing under its master’s guiding hand. Now it is easy to imagine why this way is called passive, and wherein it differs from the active way. In the latter, the powers of the soul, assisted by grace, work, as it were, of themselves, and by their own exertion. Like the child writing from his master’s copy, under his inspection, and obedient to his teaching, the soul chooses a subject of reflection, ajDplies its various powers to it, forms chains of reasoning, produces affections, examines, deliberates, con- siders what to do, weighs arguments, and comes to a determination. All this, as we see, is active. The passive way is not without activity ; but then the action of God gives impetus to ours. The soul remains freely attentive, supple, and docile to Divine motions, as the child freely sub- mits its hand to that of its master, intending to follow all its movements. But in like manner as the child, though able to write, waits till the master shall guide its hand ; so the powers of the soul, bound and suspended, only exert themselves on the object to which God applies them, and in such manner as He applies them. This work is then more simple, more intense, and therefore less perceptible ; so that the soul often thinks it is doing nothing, while the case is really quite otherwise. The soul is naturally active and restless ; but when subdued by that Divine attraction which leads it to rest, it dwells in habitual calm. In prayer, no distinct object presents itself to the MAXIM II. 19 mind ; it usually sees things in a general and indistinct manner. The sense of God’s presence is a peaceful and permanent feeling, not ex- haled in express acts of affection. The heart is filled, without effort on its own part. The lips speak, the hand writes, of Divine things without jjremeditation : God Himself guides all: and the recollection of what has been said or written remains not with the agent. There is no study how to root out faults, or gain virtues by such and such particular means ; but God, by Plis continual action on the soul, and the practices He requires of it, and the interior trials with which He visits it, insensibly purifies it from its faults, and impresses on it those various virtues which He makes it exercise on occasion, without its thinking of them, or even imagining itseK in possession of them. In this way there is more of what is infused, and, in the other, more of what is acquired ; but yet in such a manner, that that which is infused is also in a certain sort acquired, because pains are needed to preserve and to increase it. Here I am only speaking of the ordinary pas- sive way, otherwise called the way of bare faith. The extraordinary way, which is very rare, is that in which are found ecstacies, revelations, visions, and other like favours; and in which the devil troubles body and mind with vexatious and divers torments. I shall say nothing about that, because it ought neither to be desired nor feared ; nor is it right to indulge curiosity con- cerning it, nor to read books treating of it, ex- cept when necessary for the guidance of others. Such, roughly stated, is the difference between the active and passive ways. All men may and c 2 20 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. ought to walk in the first, by the help of ordi- nary gTace ; it is for God alone to open the gate of the second. Yet it is true that by their own fault many souls either do not enter it, or cease to walk in it. It is also true, that, according to the intention of God, the first would very often dispose souls to the second, if they re- sponded more faithfully to grace, and were more generous, and brave, and simple ; and if they could make up their minds to get rid of their own self-will ; and if the entrance were not barred by their many mistaken notions. But as this way is far the most conducive to our sanctification, because God then undertakes it and works at it without medium, it is most important to put away all such notions, and to neglect nothing which may open it to us ; for I am persuaded that God calls more souls there- unto than is supposed. The necessary point is to recognise the marks of such calling, and to obey it with docility. Some persons are invited to it by an inward attraction, from their earliest years ; the proof of this is to be found in the lives of many Saints. If this attraction were followed, if good parents and instructors of youth, instead of discouraging it, would favour it and carefully put aside all things adverse to it ; if confessors would take pains to cultivate the first seeds of grace, and to develop this germ of interior life ; the number of souls led by the Spirit of God would be infi- nitely greater, especially among women, whose quiet education, and natural disposition, render them better adapted for Divine operations. The innocence of childhood, when the soul is simple, teachable, and unprejudiced, is imquestionably MAXIM II. 21 most favourable to perfect devotion ; and if children were early guided in that direction, by lessons suited to their age, and with the neces- sary tact, skill, and patience, wonderful fruits would afterwards result from such education. Others, later in life, after walking for a longer or shorter time in the common way, find that they can no longer fix their mind on meditation, nor even produce the same affections as hereto- fore ; they feel distaste for the methods which they have hitherto followed. Something inex- plicable leads them to suspend all action in their prayer: God Himself induces them to this, by giving them the enjoyment of most sweet peace and calm. When this state is not temporary, but continues in spite of repeated endeavours to pursue the former road, it is an infallible mark that God wills to take possession of such souls, and bring them into the passive way. Others are prepared for it by distress, agita- tion, temptation, and dejection, which they can neither understand nor express. God, purposing to raise a new building in their hearts, shakes the former one, breaks it down, and destroys it to the foundation. It is the work of an experienced confessor to discover God’s design herein, and to persuade those who are in this critical state to make full sacrifice of self, and to yield themselves thoroughly to His will. This sacrifice being made, agitation ceases, the soul feels a peace hitherto unknown, and enters a new region. There are some persons who, though leading pious lives, are dissatisfied with themselves and with their own state, and feel that God requires some other thing of them, and seek they know not what. An opportunity furnished by Pro- 22 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. vidence at last leads them to some person who, though unacquainted with them, and without very well knowing why, speaks to them at once of the interior life. Immediately their uneasiness ceases, and they are tranquillized and satisfied when least exj)ecting it ; for they have foimd that which they had long been seeking. Not only righteous men, but sinners, and great sinners too, are called by God into the passive way. Some, at the moment of their conversion, are suddenly transformed by grace, and become new creatures, like S. IMary Mag- dalene, S. Paul, S. Mary ^gyptiaca, and S. Au- gustine. Others, after siieiiding many years in exercises of penitence, are raised gradually to a state of sublime contemplation. It is difficult to believe, and yet is perfectly true, that the sudden and wonderful change wrought by Divine mercy in sinners, is usually more perfect and solid than that wrought io the righteous. Full of the sense of their own wretchedness and of God’s wonderful goodness, they give themselves to Him more gene- rously, are more deeply humbled by Ilis favours, and bear His purifying trials more bravely. But all, whether righteous men or sinners, who have walked in the passive way, entered it in no other manner than by giving up their liberty to God entirely and absolutely ; saying, like S. Paul, “ ‘ Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?’ lam no longer mine, but Thine.” They could enter it no otherwise ; for God only takes what is given Him ; the violence He does to the soul at that time is always gentle, and He waits the consent of the heart whereof He wills to be Master. And what cause is there for fear in thus MAXIM II. 23 yielding ourselves to God? His tender invita- tions, His earnest solicitations, have no other object but our good, our real good, which He understands infinitely better than we do, which He desires more keenly, and which He only can procure. Is not our salvation incomparably safer in His hands than in our own? If we unreservedly trust Him with our dearest in- terests, do we not preserve them from all those dangers to which the devil and our own hearts would expose them ? Is any power strong enough to wrest our souls from God, after His acceptance of them, unless they themselves are cowardly and faithless enough to draw back Can we more strongly induce God to take care of us than by surrendering oui'selves to Him ? If we have any faith, or if we have one spark of love for God, if we have any wise love for ourselves: in whatever light we consider the matter, how can we hesitate ? I say, if we have any wise love for ourselves. For what is such love ? It is the desire and endeavour to obtain our most perfect welfare. Therefore it is the love of God, and His glory : and of His interests, with which our own are closely interwoven. There is no doubt that we shall love ourselves in heaven. But how? Just as we shall love God : we shall be unable to associate any differing love with that. If we could form a distinct act of love for self, we should immediately fall from beatitude. It may be objected that the passive way is not open to any and every person who wishes to walk in it, and that I myself have averred that none must enter it till God calls them. All this I grant. But I say that there are certain states 24 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. of mind which prepare us for such a call, and that these are in our power. And I say further that, even if this call never comes, we may have the merit of preparing for it. The first thing to do is to conceive a real, quiet, patient wish for living under the power of grace, and to offer ourselves frequently to God, that He may vouchsafe to reign in our hearts. The second is to do all our good works with the view of obtaining this blessing. The third is to observe extreme fidelity to God, and strict correspondence to all His inspirations, according to our present state. For this purpose the following prayer of S. Ignatius may be used : — “ Receive, O Lord, the whole freedom of myself. Accept my memory, my understanding, my entire will. Whatsoever I have or possess, Thou hast of Thy bounty bestowed it upon me. , All this I restore to Thee, and surrender it to be disposed of absolutely according to Thy wiU. Only give me love for Thee, along with Thy grace, and I am rich enough ; I ask for nothing more.” ( 25 ) THIRD MAXIM. (^ra^ for a \13i0e guiOe, rolom, rolni tSou la^'t foiinD, tru0t, vrtiere, and olep, “7/ there he a messenger with him^ an interpreter^ one among a thousand^ to show unto man His uprightness^ then He is gracious unto him.'' 111 . OF GOOD DIRECTION. The chief reason which should lead a Christian to devote himself to God is, that He is the great, and, strictly speaking, the only Director of souls. Christ is not only the AVay, which He points out to us by His doctrine and example : He is also the inward Guide; He is the Shepherd Who gives good pasture, and, by secret motions and inspirations, leads ITs sheep to find it. Never- theless, according to the order of His Provi- dence, He makes use of the ministry of priests for the direction of souls; on that ministry He bestows His grace, and through it He gives advice and instruction. He is ever the Master ; He and He only can speak to the heart. But He speaks to it especially when His ministers, in the exercise of their functions, speak to the outward ear ; He wills that they be heard and obeyed, as His representatives. Therefore every one who aspires to Christian perfection, if he be free to choose a director, ought to seek of God, that he may be rightly 26 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. guided in liis choice. And this will certainly be granted if the prayer is made in real faith. There is no point concerning which we are more easily blinded, or more apt to be preju- diced. Therefore we ought to lay the matter in God’s hands, simply and honestly resolving to take the person He points out, in spite of preju- dice, or aversion, or any human feeling whatever. The same thing must be done when there is good reason for changing a director. Such a change is right and desirable in certain cases; as, when he is unskilful, or careless, or wanting- in firmness or gentleness, or unspiritual in his leading, etc. Then, having thoroughly weighed the matter in the presence of God, we must act firmly and put aside all unnecessary considerations. And the choice is the more difficult, because good directors are extremely rare, and the ex- ternal marks whereby to recognise them are very defective. Think of the combination of qualities which go to form a perfect director. He should be a man of an interior spirit, expe- rienced in heavenly things, perfectly dead to self, closely bound to God, devoid of self-will, desiring neither to rule nor enslave the soul he leads ; seeking in nothing his own glory and interests, but in all things the interests and glory of Gcd; susceptible of no attachment save that inspired by charity ; exercising his ministry with perfect independence ; above all method and system, in- finitely pliable to the inspirations of grace ; able to assume different attitudes in order to meet the different needs of souls, and God’s designs re- garding them ; wise with Divine wisdom, gentle without softness, compassionate without weak- ness, firm without rigitoy, zealous without hasti- MAXIM III. 27 ness ; making himself all things to all men ; condescending, in a certain degree, to human misery, prejudice and weakness; perfectly calm and patient ; reproving, consoling, urging, check - ing, yielding, or resisting, according to cir- cumstances; sustaining, encouraging, humbling, showing the soul its own progress, or else con- cealing it, as may be most needful. In fact, he ought to be a man who does nothing of himself in the matter of direction, but who seconds the work of God, without either hurrying or slackening it ; following grace step by step, proceeding exactly as far as, and no further than, it leads. Are such men common amongst us ? Then we cannot too earnestly pray God that He would find us a director of this kind ; for ir is one of the greatest graces He can bestow, and one which may be the source of all others. Used aright, it will surely lead us to perfection. Would it not be intolerably presumptuous to fancy we could make such a choice by our own discern- ment ; and would it not be most dangerous to look upon it in any but the highest light ? I am well aware that all persons cannot choose their own confessor, and that those who decide the matter for us often do not follow out the will of God. And it is undoubtedly an evil to fall, consciously or not, into the hands of an ill- qualified director. But then God supplies what is lacking in His minister ; He takes upon Himself to lead us in His ways; and He will never fail us, if we are faithful to Him. So He directed Paul and Mary ^gyptiaca in the desert ; so, in heathen countries He directs Christian souls destitute of almost all external help. So, in country places, where priests are careless or 28 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. ignorant, the Holy Ghost is the immediate guide of honest souls, and teaches them the secrets of ' the interior life. However, we must not fail to give our thorough confidence to a man whom we may reasonably believe Providence to have sent us ; when we feel that his words lighten our darkness, scatter our doubts, wake us from languor, warm our heart, and lead us to serve God more worthily ; when we feel by experience that such a man is the in- strument of God, really aiding the secret opera- tions of grace; and especially if he leads us in the the way of recollection, prayer, and interior morti- fication ; for that is the touchstone of true direction. Generally, God inspires us with the will to begin by making a general confession, so as to inform the priest, not only of our past faults, but of the graces we have received, the dangers from which we have been shielded, the inv^ard draw- ings which we have neglected or obeyed, the vices and temptations to which we have been most sub- ject. Thus he becomes acquainted with our whole life, our disposition, the usual state of our soul, the various attempts of grace upon us, the obstacles which stop us, the exact point at which we stand: he is better able to see what God expects from us, and how he is to co-operate with His designs. Through the whole course of direction, nothing ought to be kept hidden, whether as to the lights given us by God, or the desires and aversions of nature, or the suggestions of Satan, whose sleights and artifices we cannot unravel without aid. Any- thing which secret pride, or temptation of the devil leads us to hide or disguise, is sure to be the point which it is most important we should mention ; and, however humiliating, it must never be kept back. MAXIM III. 29 Also it is necessary to be on our guard against suspicions, prejudices, and fancies which cross the mind, or which the devil injects in order to di- minish the trust we place in our director. For this is Satan’s great object ; and as soon as he sees that a director is working hard for our spiritual improvement, he seldom fails to inspire us with feelings of distrust and alienation. We cannot be too much on the watch against this danger. Almost always the evils arise from allowing our- selves to criticise the manner of cur direction. Why did he forbid me that ? Why did he treat me in this way?” Then we argue, and judge, and censure; confidence is shaken, obedience fails; we lose sight of God, and look only at man. Here I may remark, that one of the most cer- tain signs of a disposition to the interior life, is that candour and lovely openness which leads the soul to disguise nothing, as to defects, or faults, or motives; to make no excuses; plainly to speak out on subjects which may humiliate it, and may lessen the good opinion of others. How rare, and how precious in the sight of God is this humble ingenuousness ! But it is not enough to be open with our con- fessor ; we must hear his advice and his decision reverently, as if they issued from the lips of God. There must be no arguing with him, nor must we even mentally dispute anylJiing contrary to our own ideas. In things touching the conscience, we must submit our way of thinking to his ; be- lieve the good and evil which he tells us of our- selves ; justify nothing he condemns, nor, by false humility, blame what he approves. We pre- tend that we did not express ourselves properly, that he does not know us, that he does not see SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. 1^0 what passes within as well as we do ; but these are poor pretexts, through which we assume the right of private judgment. The confessor judges more rightly of us, than we do of ourselves ; let us hide nothing knowingly ; and then, let our minds be at rest. We know very well that we are blind as to what concerns ourselves, and that God wills to lead us by the way of faith and obedience. We act in a manner directly contrary to His intention, and make ourselves not only our own judges, but judges of our leaders. The devil tries to ruin us, through presumption or despair, by representing us to ourselves, as better or worse than we really are. These indocile and unsubmissive judgments of self are always dictated by self-love : they lead the conscience into error and blindness : are the beginning of scruples, anxieties, and all the sufPerings of the imagination : they expose the soul to the most subtle snares of Satan and the most dangerous illusions. The spiritual life has its dangers, and great dangers too, if it be misunderstood ; and erro- neous ideas concerning it are not uncommon. This evil must inevitably befal any one who pro- fesses to judge concerning himself of the work- ings of God or of Satan, and to distinguish by his own lights as to what proceeds from nature or from grace. Therefore, when we have clearly and honestly set forth our internal state, we must submit humbly and quietly, to the decision of the director. If he were mistaken, which might be the case, for he is not infallible, no harm would accrue to us from his error ; GoD would yet bless our submission and obedience ; He would hinder or repair the effects of the mistake. He has bound MAXIM III. 31 Himself to do 5 o by His Providence, because it is 1 i is will that we should see Himself in the minister who hlls His place. This principle is the sure foundation, and only basis of spiritual direction. I allow that it requires great faith always to behold God in a man who, after all, is subject to error, and not exempt from faults ; it is no little sacrifice to give up our own ideas and convic- tion, in the very matters which interest us most deeply. But without this sacrifice, there can be no obedience of the judgment, and without such obedience, there is no real direction. In the last place, we must punctually and faith- fully perform all the director bids us do ; and if through weakness, or indolence, or for any other reason, we have failed, we must tell him so. By this faithfulness alone we can advance. He will often prescribe things very painful to nature ; prac- tices which will humble us in the eyes of our neighbour; practices of continual subjection, some- times so apparently petty and minute, that our pride will disdain them ; practices opposed to our minds, our tempers, our dearest inclinations ; and if he has the spirit of God, he must act thus, because the aim of God is our mortification. We must be determined to obey him in all things wherein we do not perceive manifest sin ; and if we think it right to offer any remonstrance, it must always be subject to his decision. It would be wrong to put before him such dif- ficulties and impossibilities, as are frequently imaginary, and are the effect of strong prejudice or temptation. At any rate, after alleging them, if he pays no attention to them, we must yield, and resolve to obey. This will be easier than it seems. Nothing is impossible to grace and obe- 32 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. dience ; and if the victory over self require great efforts, it will be all the more glorious and meri- torious. Virtues are God's gifts ; He almost in- variably grants them as the reward of some signal effort, after which the things previously found most difficult become easy. Innumerable proofs of this are to be seen in the lives of the Saints. [Subjoined are a few notes from the “ Priest's Prayer Book,” which may meet some of those many cases ill which the conditions of true direction do not exist, and may also guard against mistaken apprehension of some passages in the foregoing chapter. ‘‘'I he object of direction is to form Jesns Christ in the soul (Gal, iv. 19j, and especially to give a religious tone to secular life. “Direction, therefore, is guidance in qupstions of practical action, afforded to Christians in doubt or difficulty, by one who is wiser in spiritual matters than they. “ Therefore, unlike the Sacramental rites of the Church, the efficacy of direction depends on the personal character and aoilit es of the director.’* For example of the fallible character of direction on the part of a divinely appointed confessor, cf. 2 Sam. xii. 13, and 2 Sam. vii. 1-5. “ A director should confine himself to general guidance, and enter as little as possible into minute details. He should endeavour rather to instil maxims and principles, than to con- struct a code of minute observances. “The director should aim at strengthening the seuse of pe^rsonal responsibility in those who consult him, and at in- creasing the sensitiveness and vigour of their consciences. “ The director should therefore reserve his aid for matters of real difficulty, if applied to in simple and obvious cases he should rather, by appealing to the conscience of the inquirer, endeavour to draw the answer from his lips. “A constant change of directors is inadvisable ; but there are two cases in which it is desirable to sever the connection between guide and pupil. (1) When constraint has grown up between them, and they are no longer on a footing of mutual confidence. (2) When tbe pupil exhibits too blind and slavi-h a compliance with the suggestions of the director, and appears to be substituting his dictates for the operation of conscience.”] ( 33 ) FOURTH MAXIM. 53e mintifuK of tfte ^ot) uj^o i? pixsent cIu'ip- totjeve, and toeHetl) in tfte fceart of tje rigfttcou?. “ Walk before Me. and he thou perfect.'^ IV. OF THE PRACTICE OF THE PRESENCE OF GOD. No spiritual exercise is more frequently recom- mended than that of the Presence of God ; none is more useful, or more profitable for advance- ment in virtue ; in fact, it is indispensable. How can you grow holy, and attain to union with God, if you do not habitually think of His Presence V — It* is most efficacious. If God is always before your eyes, how can you help trying to please Him in all you do, and to avoid displeasing Him? — It is most simple ; and, in its simplicity, it em- braces all other means of sanctification. God present with the soul, points out its duties from one moment to another. — It is most sweet. What can be dearer than the continual remembrance of God ? what can be sweeter to one who desires to love Him and to be wholly His ? — Lastly, it is a practice which the willing soul cannot find other- wise than easy. God spake to Abraham, saying, “ Walk before Me, and be thou perfect.” He made mention of that one point only, because it contains all. David says of himself, that he had set God always before him. Why ? ‘‘For He is on my right hand, therefore I shall not fall.” If he had continued D 34 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. faithful to his rule, the sight of a woman would not have led him to adultery, and from adultery to homicide. All Saints, both of the old and new covenant, have had this practice greatly at heart ; but this I need not remark, for it is well known : nor need I dwell on the advantages resulting from it, because they are evident to all. I shall con- fine myseK to two points ; first, the explanation of what is meant by walking in the presence of God ; second, the indication of means to be em- ployed for that purpose. The Presence of God may be considered from different points. God is present to all things by His immensity. This presence is necessary, and extends to the just and unjust, the lost and blessed, and all creatures animate and inanimate. God is also present to all things by His provi- dence. He sees all things ; not only actions, but most secret thoughts. He sees good, approves and rewards it ; He sees evil, condemns and punishes it; rules all, directs all, according to His eternal designs; and, in spite of obstacles, makes all things work together for His glory. God is present within the righteous in a special manner, by sanctifying grace. The heart of the righteous is His abode, saith S. Gregory the Pope. This is a presence of goodwill, charity, and union : this is the beginning of our merits ; this makes us children of God, pleasing in His sight, and worthy of possessing Him hereafter for ever. It is communicated by baptism and restored by pen- ance ; it is habitual, and continues as long as we preserve the gi’ace to which it is attached. Al- though no righteous man can answer for this presence of God within him, because no one knows whether he is worthy of love or hate, yet, MAXIM IV. 35 when he has fulfilled the rules laid down for pro- curing it, he may reasonably believe that God has graciously bestowed it on him, and he must do all that in him lies to retain it. God is present to the soul by actual grace, which enlightens the mind and attaches the will. This presence has its intervals; for, although grace is always offered to us, it does not always act, because its action presupposes certain dispo- sitions on our part. This presence acts more or less on sinners ; inspiring them with a sense of sin, and calling them to repent. Some are cease- lessly pursued by it ; they cannot allow themselves a moment for thought, without hearing the voice of God, bidding them turn from their evil ways. Much more does it act upon the righteous, to turn them from evil, and excite them to holiness, and sanctify all their works. It is the more felt, and the more efficacious, according as attention and fidelity are more or less perfect. Lastly, there is a presence of God, which con- sists of an habitual infused peace. This presence first makes itself known by its sweetness, which as S. Paul bears witness, passeth all understand- ing. Afterwards, it is only perceived, without being strongly felt, and at last, it is enjoyed, like health, without being noticed. God does not thus bless with His presence all righteous per- sons, but only those of whom He takes special possession, and whom He desires to place in the passive state. Others only experience its tran- sitory effects. The different kinds of presence being thus ex- plained, it is easy to understand what is meant by walking in the presence of God. It is not merely the thought of God, such as may be entertained D 2 36 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. by a philosopher or a theologian, meditating on Divine things, without any reference to him- self ; but it is the thought of God, as connected mth our habits and our conduct ; it is the de- duction from that thought of moral consequences and a rule of life. So that, in the exercise of the presence of God, a straightforward and pious will must direct the understanding, and the heart must have the chief share in the whole matter. It is an error to suppose that this practice con- sists in violent efforts of the mind, striving to think in God continually. That is impracti- cable, even in perfect solitude and entire detach- ment from earthly things ; much more in the case of persons living in the world, distracted by the necessities- of life, by business, family worries, and other like matters. Shall it be said that such persons are not required to apply them- selves to the practice of the presence of God? This would be true indeed, if, in order to feel God present with us, we must banish every other thought. But such is not the case ; no Christian is exempt from this exercise on account of his condition ; indeed, it is compatible with the most busy and active state of life. He walks in the presence of God, who, when he can arrange his own time, uses regular exer- cises to recal him to God at different hours of the day : such as meditation, attendance on public means of grace, devotional reading, and vocal prayers ; and who, as in the sight of God, em- ploys himself well and usefully, avoiding idleness, and curbing his imagination. He walks therein, who, when the day is filled up by necessary work (except morning and even- ing prayer, from which nothing can excuse a Chris- MAXIM IV. 37 tian), offers his principal actions to God, blesses Him before and after meat, thinks of Him from time to time, and frequently uses ejaculatory prayer. He walks therein, who, like Job, takes heed to all his ways, watches his thoughts, and words, and works, in order to say and do nothing to wound his conscience and displease God. This practice is no constraint for one who fears God ; still less for one who loves Him ; and it is thus that all good Christians act. It is nothing but a faithful preservation of sanctifying grace and of God’s favour ; which is the primary duty of every Christian. He walks therein more entirely who, like Da- vid, keeps the issues of his heart, in order always to hearken what the Lord shall speak to him, and the secret warnings He may give him: who studies to correspond to every inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and to perform every action under the rule of grace. All interior persons follow this method, which is the fittest for leading them to perfection. He, lastly, walks therein still more perfectly who, having been favoured with the infused peace of which I have already spoken, diligently endeavours not to part from it, dwelling always, as it were, within his own heart, in order to realize it ; carefully putting aside all that endangers its loss, and eagerly embracing all that may preserve and increase it. This peace, as I have said, is purely the gift of God : it does not depend on ourselves whether we obtain it, but it is in our power, having obtained it, to preserve it. As to the means which facilitate the exercise of the presence of God, some are general and some are particular. 38 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. The chief thing necessary is the removal of obstacles. When they are once out of the way, the presence of God becomes familiar to us, and as free, and, so to speak, as easy as the act of breathing. We must therefore mortify the desire of seeing, hearing, and knowing things which are useless or which do not concern us, and, in fact, all that pertains to curiosity ; for curiosity draws us out of ourselves and casts us among external things, and the presence of God calls the soul to dwell within. We must put a stop to that natural restlessness which induces coming and going, and change of place, or object, or situation. This restlessness is really the effects of the uneasiness which overpowers the soul when it looks within itself and does not find God present. We must moderate eagerness and vehemence in our desires. It is also necessary to curb the imagination, and gradually accustom it to quietness. If it escapes in spite of our endeavours, it must be brought back gently ; we must take from it that whereon it feeds, such as vain shows, exciting books, and too great application to imaginative arts. Nothing is more dangerous than to give imagination too much of its own way, and nothing is more incom- patible with the exercise of the presence of God. It is true that we are not wholly masters of that faculty, whose wanderings form the torment of pious souls ; this is a great matter for humiliation and a fertile source of scruple for those who are not able to despise them. But this is in our power: to refuse it those objects which it ardently desires, and to which it furiously clings. Be careful to maintain great freedom of heart and mind, not allowing the tlioughts to dwell conti- MAXIM IV. 39 nually on the past or on the future, but rather on the present, which alone is at your disposal. Put aside all useless thoughts, for it is equally contrary to the presence of God to think too mucii or too little. Do not meddle with other people’s business. Set your own affairs in order, without over-much anxiety as to the result ; be reasonably careful about them, and leave the rest to Providence. Take not too much business upon you, and keep spare moments for breathing time and for recol- lection. It is right to do good to others, and to attend to works of mercy, but these things have their measure, and cease to be right when they injure the soul. So much for liberty of mind. As to liberty of heart, let nothing enter therein which shall affect it too sensibly, and agitate or vex it, exciting excessive desire or fear, joy or grief : nothing in fact which may enchain it or lead it away captive, or turn it aside from its one true object. As this exercise is one of love, the dis- traction of the heart is far more hurtful to it than that of the mind. The greater the freedom of the mind and heart, the greater will be the facility of dwelling in God’s presence, because God is always the first object that offers itself to either, when it is emptied of all things else. The particular means to this end are, the fre- quent sight of such things as may remind us of God ; as, the crucifix, religious prints or pictures, texts from Scripture or the Fathers ; the use of the sign of the cross, (according to the custom of the first Christians, who, as Ter- tullian says, were accustomed to begin their most trivial actions by making that sign,) and the fre- quent use of aspirations drawn from the psalms 40 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. or other Scriptures. If a little strictness be maintained at first, these habits will become pleasant and easy. If daily meditation is prac- tised, the most striking thought or the deepest affections may be retained in the mind through the day. Every one may choose his own method in these matters, and follow or change it ac- cording to the benefit he derives from it. But the chief means of acquiring the practice of the habitual presence of God, is the thought of Christ and His mysteries, and especially of His Passion. I shall speak of this more at length in the following chapter. As to persons in the passive state, there is no need to teach them any particular method for dwelling in the presence of God. The Holy Spirit leads them to the use of all due methods: they have only to yield themselves to His guidance. At their first entrance into the passive way, they feel too much happiness in their secret intercourse with God, to be tempted to allow themselves in anything that might interrupt it. But afterwards, when they are deprived of sen- sible feeling, and God drives them, in some sort, out of themselves, to prevent them from noticing His work within them, they must beware of seeking from any creature those consolations which they no longer find in God. They would be punished with jealous severity ; and if they per- sisted in such unfaithfulness, it would infallibly be followed by the loss of their position. Therefore, without subjecting themselves to any stated prac- tice, let them be faithful to those which grace inspires ; laying aside, of their own will, no pious exercise, labouring ceaselessly in external and in- ternal mortification ; ■ and believing that, as God MAXIM IV. 41 gives more to them than to others, so He will re- quire more at their hands. The habit of the presence of God is like all other habits. Difficult to acquire, but, once learned, easy and pleasant to retain. The sweet thought of God makes all other thoughts insipid. As the soul advances, it more clearly sees God in all things. The sight of things created recalls the thought of their Author, and the perfection of His works fills the soul with delight. In every event that takes place, whether in the world or the Church, whether temporal or spiritual, great or small, adverse or prosperous, the faithful soul per- ceives her Loed. Abiding closely at His side, her glory, her interests, her will are one with His. For her, time fades to nothingness, and eternity begins already. Such are the effects of the exer- cise of the presence of God. ( 42 ) FIFTH MAXIM. fteep cKose to out HouD, anb tira\u true !obe from it0 true Source. “ JVo man cometh to the Father^ hut hy ilie.” V. OF DEVOTION TO OUR LORD. Christ is the centre, not only of our religion, but of our spiritual life. In whatever path the soul may be led, active, passive, ordinary, or extraor- dinary, He is its One Guide and Pattern ; the chief subject of its meditation and contemplation, the object of its affection, the goal of its course. He is its Physician, Shepherd, and King; its Food and Delight. And there is none other Xame given under heaven, whereby men may be saved, or may come to perfection. Therefore it is absurd and impious to fancy that there can be any prayer, from which the humanity of Christ is and ought to be excluded, as an ob- ject not sufficiently sublime. Such an idea can be nothing but an illusion of the devil. Contem- plate the perfections of God, if you are drawn to do so : lose yourself, if you will, in the Divine Essence : nothing is more allowable or more praiseworthy, provided grace gives wings to the flight, and humility is the companion of that sub- lime contemplation. But never fancy that it is a lower course to look and gaze upon the Saviour, whenever He presents Himself to your mind. Such an error is the effect of false spirituality and MAXIM V. 43 refined pride ; and, believe it who will, leads di- rectly to disorders of the flesh, by which God almost invariably punishes proud upliftings of the mind. Know then that, as long as the soul has free use of its faculties, she must turn chiefly to Christ Jesus, whether in meditation or simple contem- plation. That contemplation in which the under- standing alone is exercised upon an entirely spiri- tual object, is too high for weak minds like ours, encumbered with a weight of flesh, and sub- jected in many ways to material things. So that, with some persons, it is less a prayer than a Pla- tonic speculation ; with others, a hollow imagina- tion, in which they lose sight both of God and of themselves. Besides, this contemplation is too bare and dry for the heart ; it finds no food therein. The ab- stract consideration of infinite perfections contains nothing that excites to virtue, or that encourages in trouble. The repose obtained by this supposed prayer is false, and is a dangerous quietism. It leaves the soul dry, cold, full of self-esteem, dis- dain of others, distaste and contempt for vocal prayer (which our weakness greatly needs) ; for the common practices of piety, charity, and humi- lity ; and indifferent even to the most august and holy of our Sacraments. If the powers of the soul are bound at the time of prayer, I can understand that it is then unable to think of Christ, or of any other subject. God, desiring to humble the mind, to destroy natural activity, and remove from the heart its immode- rate love of sensible consolations, sometimes leaves the soul for many years in a void, wherein neither Christ, nor any other distinct object, is set before it. 44 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. However, in the first place, this is not the act of the soul itself, but a sort of martyrdom in which it acquiesces because such is God’s will. And when, during that fearful nudity, Christ is occasionally restored to it, with what joy it receives Him, and converses with Him during the brief moments of His stay ! “ How happy when I find at last, How joyous when I hold Him fast !’* In the second place, the soul thus treated en- deavours to make up during the day for the loss from which it suffers in the time of prayer. It thirsts to be joined in Holy (’ommunion to Him Who, in these seasons of dearth, is its only stay, its only food. It spends itself in holy ejaculations. It invents divers practices whereby to invoke and adore Him throughout the day in His various mysteries. It seeks Him in all spiritual reading, in all visits to His holy House ; it turns to Him for all grace, and in all tribulation. There is no soul really and truly interior, whether passive or net, but strives to live in, and by, and for Christ. How could it be otherwise ? God the Father gave Him to us for this very end ; He became man in order to unite us with Himself. Sin had parted God and man too widely. Christ as- sumed our nature in order to do away with that separation. No man cometh to the Father but bv Him ; no man abideth in the Father but by Him. S. Paul was not only an interior man, but was in the passive state, bound by the Holy Ghost, and that to a wonderful degree. Yet his epistles are full of Christ. MAXIM V. 45 S. John lay mystically on Jesus’ bosom during his whole life, as he literally did at the Last Supper. Hut who ever reached a higher state of contem- plation ? Ye who aspire to the interior life, that is, to a life of real piety, enter into Christ, as the author of the Imitation advises; study to know Him well ; make this knowledge the usual subject of your meditation, and reading, and reflection ; let everything have reference to it. Never fancy that you have exhausted, or even fathomed it. Nor let it be enough to study Christ ; lift up your hearts to love Him. The love of God and of God made Man are one and the same. Let this be the object of all your exercises. If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema.” He who loves Him faintly, is but an imperfect Christian ; the true Christian longs and strives to love Him more and more, know- ing that He can never be loved according to His due. But love without imitation, would be vain and sterile. Therefore, be imitators of Christ. He is a perfect model, perfect in every feature. A model for all states and conditions. To all men, in all conceivable circumstances, Christ, in His mysteries, and virtues, and doctrine, gives lessons and examples. And, by His grace and Sacraments, He gives ample means for carrying them out. But above all things meditate on His Passion ; cling to His Passion ; copy the example that you see in His Passion. Go to your prayers that you may draw" love from His salutary Wounds, and especially from His pierced Heart. Remember that His Passion is the foundation of our whole reli- gion ; that the glorious Sacrifice of our Altars is 46 . SPIRITUAL Maxims. but the memorial and renewal and extension the Sacrifice of Calvary. The Crucifix is, and always ^\ull be, the dearest book of pious souls ; it speaks to the senses, to the mind, and to the heart ; no other language is so eloquent and touching. It is within the unc^er- standing of the most simple and ignorant, and is, at the same time, above the comprehension of the greatest intellect and the utmost learning ; it says all ; it teaches all ; it answers all ; it excites to the greatest efforts ; it consoles in the most bitter sorrows — nay, it changes their bitterness into sweetness. Devout soul, do you desire to attain union with God, and the precious gift of His continual pre- sence, making all labour light? Spend some time daily in prayer before the Crucifix ; take no other subject of meditation ; look at it, hold it in your hands, pray to Christ hanging on the Cross, that He would Himself be your Master and Di- rector. Bid your mind be silent in His presence ; let your heart only speak. Tenderly kiss His Hands and Feet ; press your lips to the Wound of His Side ; and your soul will be moved, and torrents of grace will flow into it, and with joy shall you draw water out of the wells of salvation ; you will make progress in spiritual things, for the Cross contains them all. And say not that the sight of the Crucifix does you no good, but leaves your heart cold and in- sensible ; and that, however much you may try to express affection, you have no words where- with to do so. If you cannot speak, you can listen. Stay silently and humbly at your Sa- viour’s feet ; if you persevere, He will not fail to instruct, and nourish, and strengthen you. And MAXIM V. 47 if you do not feel this at the time, you will per- ceive it gradually in your life. We are impa- tient, and want excited feelings ; and therefore we leave off the most profitable practices, if they do not appear to succeed at once. Persevere, I say : you have greatly abused the love of Christ ; let Him try yours a little , He will crown your perseverance, and your reward will be the gift of prayer. ( 48 ) SIXTH MAXIM. 4IBafie 0 ooti use of tftose tujo .Sacraments toSereof one iinnos cleansing anti tt)e other tife. “ Now ye are clean through the word that 1 have spoken unto you. Abide in Me and I in you."''' VI. OF THE SACRAMENTS OF PENANCE AND THE HOLY EUCHARIST. We all know that, after Baptism, which rege- nerates, but can only be supplied once, the two chief springs of grace are the Sacraments of Penance and the Holy Eucharist, which may be renewed as often as the soul stands in need of them. The former cleanses it from defilement, and renders it pure in God’s sight ; the latter maintains its spiritual life, by uniting it with the Very Author of that life. Therefore the right use of these two Sacraments greatly tends to sanctification; and his salvation is certain who does his best to receive them worthily, and profit by them fully. It would lead me too far, were I to treat this matter at length, and my subject does not require it of me. I am not now writing for those who only go to Confession and to the Lord’s Table, in order to obey the precept of the Church. This I will say, in case my book falls into their hands : as long as they do only so much as is absolutely of obligation, they run a great risk of not being rightly disposed lor the reception of these MAXIM VI. 40 Sacraments ; if they have any wicked habits, it is unlikely that they will be amended, as long as they receive good advice so seldom, and so seldom obtain the strength of the Blessed Eucharist : therefore their salvation is much im- perilled. Nor am I writing even for those who are used to confess and communicate on the great festivals only. Perhaps their lives may be exempt from glaring sins ; but they are surely wanting in zeal for their own sanctification ; and they neither respond to the desire of the Church, nor to onr Lord’s intention in His institution of the Sacra- ments. Let me advise them to read some good book on the advantages of frequent Confession and Communion ; to obey the pressing invita- tion of the Church, and the advice of their confessor. I write for those Christians only who, being resolved to lead a holy life, and knowing that frequent participation in the Sacraments is one of the most effectual means to holiness, have adopted the pious habit of confessing and com- municating fortnightly, or weekly, or oftener, according as their occupations allow, and their confessor authorises. I also write for those dedi- cated to God, as Priests and Peligious persons ; who, by their rule, are obliged to frequent Cele- brations or Communions. And in addressing such persons only, I must deal with none but the most essential points ; else I might fill volumes on the subject, even as many volumes have already been filled. But let me give this warning : be equally on your guard against books which set forth too lax ideas as to frequent reception, and those which frighten E 50 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. persons away from the Holy Table, by requiring such great perfection, as can only be the result of frequent Communion. And what I say of books, is also to be understood of confessors. In the ancient Church Confession was rarer, and Communion more frequent. The Bishop was then the only, or almost the only, confessor ; and if the primitive Christians, who communi- cated whenever they assisted at the Holy Sacri- fice, (and in their own homes besides,) had con- fessed as often as devout people do now, the Bishop would have had no time to hear them. Their lives were holier than ours, and yet slight faults daily escaped them, which they did not think needful to bring to Confession. If they had aught against their brethren, they embraced each other, and were reconciled before offering their gifts ; and as to venial sins, they believed, as S. Augustine teaches, that they were wholly effaced by the recitation of the Lord’s Prayer. Therefore they only applied to the Bishop, or his deputy, for sins of some little magnitude, or concerning which they stood in doubt ; and we may believe that their consciences were at least as delicate as those of the devotees of the present day. As time wore on, and the number of confessors increased, the facility of applying to them made Confession much more frequent ; and the holy custom of communicating whenever present at Mass being lost, the idea took root that it was necessary to receive the advice or permission of the confessor: and this gave rise to regular weekly (or more frequent) Confessions. Now, these continual Confessions, when made matter of obligation, are subject to abuse. They MAXIM VI. 51 give rise to anxiety and scruples; the penitent worries himself to find something to say ; dwells upon thoughts that he had better despise ; and exposes himself to be wanting in contrition. Often there is no matter for Absolution, and yet it would be distressing if the confessor would give none. The worst is, that, without Confession, such persons will not go to Communion when they could and should do so. No one knows what it costs sensible confessors to bring some souls to reasonable practice in this matter ; they take fright, and are scandalised ; very often nothing can be done with them ; and the confessor is fain to yield to their obstinacy. Another abuse, still greater and more common, is that of believing that all perfection consists in frequent participation in the Sacraments. Many 23ersons think themselves saints, because they com- municate weekly, or daily, who yet never dream of correcting their faults ; and who perhaps do not even know them, because they are so blinded by self-love ; they are impatient, harsh, censorious, full of self-esteem and contempt of their neighbour, proud of the multitude of their external obser- vances, and destitute of the slightest idea of in- ternal mortification. All the fruit they derive from their Commu- nions and other pious exercises, consists in spiritual vanity, secret pride, and all the subtle vices engendered by devotion grafted on self- seeking. A third abuse is that of treating Confession and Communion as matters of routine. Those who fall into this error, come to the Sacraments with- out any, or with superficial, examination, and because they are afraid of breaking their rule E 2 52 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. and attracting observation, or because the di- rector has given such and such orders ; and these most holy actions are performed in much the same way as the most ordinary business. But consider each Sacrament apart. Tlie thing most to be apprehended in the matter of frequent Confession is, tliat either the self- examination be insufficient, or else exaggerated and scrupulous. Persons of a giddy, thoughtless nature, and those whose devotion is cold and indifferent, are liable to examine themselves amiss. Some only consider their external actions, and scarcely give a thought to what passes within. Others have pet sins, of which they do not think at all. Others have a regular form of examination, which they say by heart to their confessor, generally in the same order and the same words. And there are some who, being habitually subject to venial sins — as, to breaking certain rules — and having no wish to correct them, leave them out of their examina- tion and confession. In general, examination is ill performed, either from ignorance, or from want of watchfulness between the periods of confes- sion, or from indifference to advancement in piety. On the other hand, very timid souls, lively imaginations, and little minds, are apt to examine themselves too severely, or too anxiously : they see faults in everything ; and these faults, which are sometimes none at all, are exaggerated and turned into monsters : they confuse thought with consent, and confound the first involuntary move- ment with the determinate act ; they perplex themselves in their researches ; hours are not enough for them ; they go through torments every time they have to confess. This examination does not only weary them at the time of Confession but MAXIM VI. 53 all day long ; they are perpetually searching into their conciences, and do nothing hut fret and dissect themselves. I grant that it is difficult to keep the happy medium between too much and too little. For those persons who lead a regular life, with few relations to the, external world, and uniform occupations, and who make daily self-examina- tion, I think that the scrutiny before Confession ought to take but little time : a glance should remind them of what they have done during the week. Persons otherwise circumstanced require more time, but such time has its limits : a quarter of an hour more than suffices for a weekly confes- sion ; and it is better to run the risk of forgetting some slight fault rather than put oneself to torture in order to omit none. Examination should be made simply, quietly, and honestly, after having asked the Holy Ghost for that light on which you ought to rely rather than on your own research. Do not make painful efforts of memory, but pray Him to show you those faults which most displease God, which offend your neighbour, which hinder your own progress; then think of those only which come into your mind. Pay more attention to habitual than to transitory faults, and to those which are in any way deliberate rather than to such as are simply inadvertent. But it is more important to feel real contrition for sin, and make an earnest resolution of amend- ment. Such souls as I here have in view do not find this difficult as regards great sins, which I sup- pose they hold in habitual abhorrence. But that is not the case with respect to lesser sins of omis- sion or commission connected with propensities 64 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. which they treat tenderly, and against which they have not courage to fight resolutely ; such as vanity, curiosity, laziness, self-indulgence, cen- soriousness, and so forth. The mention of these sins is repeated in every confession. It is very difficult to feel sincere contrition, or to resolve firmly not to commit them again, so long as the cause is allowed to subsist undisturbed. The branches merely are lopped off ; but they grow again directly, because the root is spared. Con- trition for venial faults, habitually and inten- tionally committed, is as suspicious as that for mortal sins of the same nature. Grace demands their correction ; nature refuses it. It is true that we can only attain to moral certainty of our contrition ; but if there be any method of quieting our minds on that point, it is the formation of an earnest resolution to commit no fault intentionally or deliberately, and the acting on that resolution. Then nothing remains but faults of impulse, inadvertence, and of simple frailty, to which the will does but half consent. A determination to allow ourselves in no sins, readily wins from God the grace of repentance for those into which we do fall. Such repentance is not our own work : God grants it; and He only gives it to those who make good use of His other graces. Doubt, O Christian soul, of the truth of your contrition, until you have fully made up your mind to eschew every voluntary sin. But, if you have done so, and live accordingly, then indulge in no more uneasiness about the matter. You must judge of your contrition, not by the feelings that you endeavour to excite at the time of Con- fession, nor by the acts that you then utter, but MAXIM VI. 00 by your habitual hatred of sin, your degree of watchfulness against it, and your efforts to conquer evil propensities and habits. There is no rule but this ; and this rule is safe. You are alarmed sometimes, because you feel no grief, and your heart seems frozen, and your act of contrition appears to be a mere formal set of words. You used to feel really sorrowful: love constrained your heart, and you were even moved to tears. Look well into yourself : see if you do truly detest the sins you are going to confess. If so, be at ease, and seek no further certainty. Perhaps your state of mind is better than when you were touched with sensible grief. Therefore, dare boldly to cast aside all fears and doubts and scruples on this subject. Besides, we do not excite contrition, as some suppose, by squeezing feelings out of our hearts, or moving ourselves to tears ; but by humbly praying God Himself to inspire our souls with true repentance, and then simply and peacefully making an act of contrition. Then comes the accusation, and it is often very defective — too much or too little detailed, by reason of self-love or false shame. As to the defects which result from ignorance, coarseness, or narrow-mindedness, the Confessor must remedy them by such questions as he shall see fit. The accusation must be short and simple. No useless details, which often implicate other persons. No circumlocution. If you have to say that you were impatient, or wanting in charity, or so on, do not make a long story of it. Some people think they should make a bad confession if they did not repeat exactly all that was said to them, and all that they said in reply. 66 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. It must be clear and precise. No indistinct- ness, no ambiguity, no disguise. Let the con- fessor understand the thing as you understand it yourself. None of those vague accusations which merely occupy space and time. Those who wish to fill their confession with many subjects, are much given to the use of these. They accuse themselves of self-love and of pride : those are vicious habits, not sins. Or of slackness in God’s service : the express point should be mentioned. Or of lukewarm Communion. AVhat does that mean ? It must be thorough. No necessary circum- stances suppressed. Together with the fault, mention the motive which induced it, and w’hich is sometimes more sinful than the act itself. Do nothing in any way against your conscience. If any fault is particularly humiliating, or if you fear reproof for it, do not leave it to the end. Really humble souls always begin by naming such faults. It is also right to tell your temptations, and to explain wherein they consist, although you may have reason to believe that they have not been yielded to. Shame sometimes leads to the concealment of certain temptations ; there is danger in this : it is a device of which the devil makes use in order to render a fall more easy, and it generally succeeds. Lastly, the accusation must be exactly true. Faults are not to be exaggerated, diminished, nor excused. Call that certain which you believe to be certain ; call that doubtful which you con- sider doubtful. Scrupulous and tempted persons are apt to say, that they have consented when thtc' have not done so. The confessor should be on his guard, and not take them at their word : else MAXIM VI. 57 lie will cast them into despair. Some think that it is better to say more rather than less; they ought, if possible,- to say neither more nor less. Persons of strong and lively imagination ought to mistrust it, when at Confession. Early instruction on the subject of Confession is exceedingly important: because, at a certain age, it is almost impossible to correct the erro- neous customs contracted by long habit. Except in cases of violent temptation, etc., souls in the passive way examine themselves very quietly, and see the state of their conscience clearly ; they neither become scrupulous, nor do they slur over anything, because God never fails to show them the least fault they commit ; they are not uneasy about their contrition ; they ac- cuse themselves with childlike candour and sim- plicity. Their confessions are usually short, because they contain nothing needless. Unless obliged by rule, they only confess when necessary; when they do so under obligation, they simply St ate that they have nothing on their minds. By these signs, it is easy to know whether persons are ill this way, or are disposed to enter it. Some may ask, whether it is advisable to make use of those exercises for Confession and Com- munion, which are to be found in all manuals of devotion. I consider them useful and necessary to those who seldom approach the Sacraments. They are fitted also for young people, who are trying to be good, and find great difficulty in collecting their thoughts. Acts, well repeated, inspire devotion where it previously did not exist ; they either recall the mind or prevent it from wandering. But I think that those who enjoy the blessing 58 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. of frequent Communion, ought to acquire the habit of dispensing with these helps ; for, in the first place, familiarity diminishes their effect. In this respect particularly, novelty alone is striking. So that an exercise grows wearisome when it is known by heart, and leaves us cold and dry. Another great objection is, that, when we find ready-made acts of virtues in our books, we do not excite our own hearts to produce them, but, having borrowed the feelings of the writers, we fancy that we have expressed our own. So these foreign feelings leave nothing behind them in our souls ; while those which are born within us by the help of grace, feed and develop holiness, and produce that frame of mind, which, when fre- quently renewed, becomes a habit, and accustoms us to interior recollection. Nor is it to be doubted that the expression of our own feelings is more agreeable to God, and belongs more truly to hearty devotion. What matter to Him aU those regular methodical acts? The thoughts that please Him are those which He breathes into the soul ; not those which the soul seeks elsewhere. If they are not necessary for the supply of our indigence and the fixing of our atten- tion, we had better do without them, and leave our hearts at liberty to pour themselves out before God. Free and untutored feelings are more na- tural, more lively, and more effective. Therefore I would have you try gradually to leave off using books, both before and after Com- munion. Let your preparation and thanksgiving be made quietly, without wearying your mind : and with the alone help of God, Who is never so near us as in the holiest of actions. And while acknowledging the insufficiency of yoiu* own at- MAXIM VI. 59 tempts to receive Christ worthily, and worthily to thank Him for this inestimable benefit, I would wish you trustfully to ask Himself to dispose your heart aright ; and then firmly believe and fully expect that He will do so, and remain quietly re- collected ; give Him full liberty over your heart, both as to preparation for His reception, and as to His taking entire possession of it. This divine method, in which Christ would give us His fulness, and we should give Him simplicity, humility, faith, love, and trust, would be much better than our bustle and activity, and the shakings we give our souls in order to produce a little sensible fervour. Its effect would be perfect peace ; a sweet suspension of the powers of the soul ; a loving expectation of our Lord’s coming : an unspeakable blessedness in His Presence. But self-love must always be busy, and so spoils every- thing. It seems to fear that God cannot do as well as it can itself ; and therefore, wherever self- love interferes, God does little, or nothing. For the last two hundred years there has been great searching out of methods for hearing Mass well, and communicating devoutly. They will never be found, so long as they are sought only in books. The true method ought to be in our hearts ; and books are useful only while they help to implant it in them. Because we begin by using a prayer-book, are we therefore never to learn to do without it ? The following is the best method I know, and I deduce it from the very nature of the Eucharist : — Consider it as a Sacrifice, wherein Christ offers HimseK to His Father, and offers us to- gether with Himself. Hereby He plainly inti- nates that we have only to unite ourselves to 60 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. Ills oblation, and to make it with the same in- tentions and dispositions as He Himself does. We know what these are. Let us make them our own, not by a multiplicity of distinct acts, but by one act very simple and intense. Let us pray Him to instil them into us; then let us keep ourselves in a state of recollection, and leave to His grace the care of occupying our minds during the celebration of the Holy Mysteries. All He requires is that we should not bring with us profane or idle thoughts, nor allow ourselves in distractions, and, that, as far as possible, we should keep our hearts quiet and our minds attentive. He will take charge of the rest, if we trust to Him. I know by experience that if, at the be- ginning of Mass, we said simply and earnestly : “ Lord, cause me to assist at Thy holy Sacrifice in a manner worthy of Thee : I cannot do so of myself we should feel the effects of our faith and humility : Christ would act upon our souls, and would keep them in a reverent and loving silence ; and we should rise from our knees with an impression of grace upon us which it would be easy, with due watchfulness, to retain throughout the day. Consider the Eucharist as a Sacrament, wherein Christ gives Himself to us with the full affection of His heart. Let us give ourselves to Him as thoroughly and as sincerely. He longs to unite Himself to us; let us long in like manner to unite ourselves to Him. His delights are to be with the sons of men ; let us delight in possessing Him. This must be our habitual state of mind : not necessarily expressed in many words. If this be not our condition, let us pray simply and quietly that it may become so, and endeavour to remove all MAXIM VI. 61 things within us that are opposed to such a state. We should be humbled and ashamed at being so cold and indifferent. Such should be our remote and daily preparation for Communion : it is cer- tainly the essential point. As to the proximate preparation, let it be a prayer to our Lord that He would prepare us Himself. Will He not do it better than we can, with all our methods and exercises? ^Miy not ask Him ? As to our thanksgiving, we should leave Him to act within us as He pleases. If He desires acts. He is fully able to suggest them. I see no other to be made on our part than to worship and love Him from the bottom of our hearts, without saying anything to Him. But we want to act and to feel, and so we hurry and fidget and excite ourselves, and do not con- sider that true devotion, accompanied by feelings of affection, is God’s gift, which must be awaited with confidence and humility, and not desired in order to gratify self-love. We want to be satisfied with our Communions ; and we ought only to try to satisfy our Lord. In His satisfaction, we should find our own, after a nobler, more solid, more excellent manner than we can believe. We wish to hear Mass and to communicate with saintlike fervour. The desire is good ; but then we ought to begin by living like Saints ; for it is folly to aspire to their tender and intense devotion, without imitating them in humility and mortification ; and it is the grossest illusion to suppose that books will make up for the want of feelings. Love lies not in books, but in hearts. After receiving the Blessed Sacrament, we should bring away more love than we took with us, and should therefore intend and resolve to be 62 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. more recollected, more closely knit to God, more faithful to grace, more watchful over self, more loving, gentle, and patient, more careful in the fulfilment of duty, more generous towards God, more strong to bear the crosses of the day. This is love put in practice. And by communi- cating thus, and drawing these results from their Communions, the Saints attained the perfection of love. I allow that this method is only fit for souls which have made some progress. But there are pure young hearts, ay, and hearty penitents, whom God Himself soon calls to it, attracting them to interior silence, and kindling them with sweet peaceful love at the time of Communion. Such souls need fear nothing : but at such times they should leave, not only books, but their own acts, and yield to the working of God. It is true that sensible sweetness at Communion has its own time — should neither be sought nor clung to ; nor, when no longer imparted, should it be pined and grieved for. There is much spiri- tual sensuality in such conduct ; it is the love of Christ, not for His own sake, but for that of His consolations. When the privation does not result from our own fault, the Communion is none the worse, though it be devoid of comfort. Its peace is imparted, whether it be felt or no : and the heart is filled, however empty it may feel. Our state at Communion generally corresponds to our state in prayer ; and the further we advance in mortification of self, the more we are weaned from all sweetnesses. If the heavenly food is then less delicious, it is more strengthening. The soul, in its trials, needs consolation less than strength, which latter is abundantly bestowed in those MAXIM VI. 63 Communions in which nothing seems to be im- parted. A Communion is not to be judged by present, but by subsequent effects. God soon leads some powerful, generous souls beyond sweetnesses, that He may give them what is more substantial. A Communion is excellent when it results in the thorough determination to correct our faults, deny ourselves, bear the inward and outward crosses sent by God, and give Him, according to our present state, due proofs of love and faithfulness. Such Communions as do not produce this effect are at least fruitless. Natural sensibility, imagi- nation (and sometimes Satan) may have the chief share in the pleasure then enjoyed, which only serves to lull the vain and timid soul in dangerous illusion. As to frequent Communion, the confessor must regulate that, with holy discretion. It must be a gradual work, advancing in proportion to the pro- gress of the soul. As soon as a Christian sets himself diligently to work out his own salvation, he should be exhorted to communicate every month, without waiting till he is quite rid of his former habits : or, rather, in order to get rid of them more easily ; and there may be reasons, such as occasions of strong temptations, or difficult duties, which render more frequent Communions desirable. Weekly, and more than weekly Communion ought, regularly speaking, to be granted to those souls only, which are not attached to any venial sins, but are resolved to commit no intentional fault, and to obey the will of God in all things ; and who moreover devote themselves to inward mortification and mental prayer, so far as their condition allows. 64 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. Daily Communion may be allowed to the same persons when it is evident that they are acquiring strength in the practice of virtue, and of fighting bravely with themselves; and are avoiding all that might in the slightest degree draw them away from recollectedness and union with God. As the spiritual life has its ordinary rate of pro- gress, and as an enlightened director can easily perceive whether such souls are advancing or falling back, he ought to diminish the number of their Communions, if he perceives any laxity, which continues after they have received repeated warnings from him on the subject. ( 65 ) SEVENTH MAXIM. %tt intmtion lie pure, anb telioticn ^impte ani) upright. If thine eye he sinqle, thy ivhole body shall he full of light:' VIL OF PURITY OF INTENTION, SIMPLICITY, AND UPRIGHTNESS. All the Fathers explain these words to refer to purity of intention, and understand them to signify, that if our object be pure, our actions will be righteous. As the eye guides, and in some sense enlightens the body, so the intention enlightens the soul ; it guides its actions, and gives them their value for good or evil. Therefore as holiness of action depends on purity of intention, it is of serious importance that this subject should be understood : yet nothing is more difficult. Intention lies in the deepest part of the human heart, so that, if we would unveil it as fully as is possible, we must be practised in the science of pondering on our own souls, examining their hidden motives, and penetrating their deep re- cesses. This is done by few persons, and in super- natural matters it can be duly performed only by the help of divine light, which must needs be sought always by diligent prayer. Our self-love endeavours studiously to hide our intentions from ourselves. It does so with a F 66 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. view to its own interests ; and succeeds only too Avell. We deceive ourselves in things innu- merable, and we do it, though wilfully, yet so subtlely, that we scarcely perceive it. Few men are thoroughly honest with themselves ; self ought to be the first object of mistrust, and therefore we ought to be on our guard against the devices of self-love, which are more abundant in matters of piety than in any thing else. If, in order to know ourselves thoroughly, we must ascertain the true motives of our actions, and if, though they be deeply corrupt, we are so disposed to ignore this, and dissemble with our- selves, how few men are there who possess true knowledge of self? The fact is, that we are thoroughly known by God alone, and that in the most essential point ; namely, as to whether we are worthy of love or hatred in His eyes. We cannot be absolutely certain that any one of our actions is pleasing in His sight. This ignorance will remain with us through life, and therefore it will always be impos- sible for us to pronounce with perfect certainty concerning the purity of our intentions ; for, if we were sure that they were pure, we should also know that our actions are holy, and consequently that we are in a state of grace. Therefore we must always say with David, ‘‘ Cleanse Thou me from my secret faults therefore we have need to cry : “ Who can tell how oft he offendeth?” This truth is in itself very grievous, and par- ticularly painful to self-love, which is always seeking for assurance ; but, according to the de- signs of God, it ought to humble us, and not to cast us into despair. If we cannot reach absolute certainty on this point, yet by study of self, and MAXIM VII. 67 by humbiy appealing to God, we may obtain a moral certainty sufficient to give us peace. But then we are to neglect no means for obtaining it. What is purity of intention ? God alone is its object ; it is mingled with no self-interest. In- tention may be not pure, and yet not thoroughly bad ; it often happens that the chief intention is good, but is defiled by an accessory intention added to it. Thus a priest in his apostolic work chiefly intends the glory of God, but takes plea- sure in the applause of men. Tlierefore, in the sight of God, the first intention and the action consequent on it are not perfectly holy and irre- proachable. We may judge by this example of the imper- ceptible sin which steals into almost all our works. If we were fully persuaded of that, how impossible would self-complacency become ! And this is what God intends ; for He saves us by humility, and not by confidence in our own merit. What must we do to acquire this precious purity of intention ? We must continually watch our motives, in order to cast aside not only the palpably bad, but the imperfect. But we only discern our imperfections as we advance, and as our spiritual lights increase. God increases our lights progressively, according to the use we make of them ; He adapts them to our present needs, and to the degree of purity which He re- quires of us at the moment. By this means we gradually discover in our intentions those imper- fections which at first we did not see, and which God Himself hid from us. For what beginner, with how good a will soever, could bear the sight of those actions which he believes to be his best, ' F 2 68 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. if God showed them to him such as they are in His own sight ? it would be enough to cast him into the lowest depths of despondency. To make myself better understood, I will give an example of this imperfect power of vision. The entrance to a sjDiritual life is often strewn by God wuth flowers ; He fills it with sweetness and consolation, in order to detach the soul from all that is not Himself, and to facilitate the exercises of an interior life, which otherwise would prove re- pulsive. The soul, which never before knew anything so delightful, clings impetuously to these new pleasures. In order to enjoy them it gives up all else, yields itself to prayer and mortifica- tion, is only happy when alone with God, and cannot bear any interruption of communion with Him. If God absents Himself for a time, the soul is wretched, and cries to Him to return ; seeks Him uneasily, and takes no rest till He be found. Much imperfection unquestionably exists here. The motive is good : God is the object sought ; but the intention is not pure, because spiritual sweetness and sensible enjoyment are sought be- sides. The soul does not now see this imper- fection ; God Himself hides it, and it would be imprudent in a spiritual director to reveal it. But when the soul has for some time been fed on this milk, and begins to grow strong, the times of God’s absence will grow longer, and will be- come habitual. Then a light will be given to show the previous impurity of intention, and the soul wull gradually learn to serve God for Him- self, and not for His gifts. This light would have done harm at first, but will be useful then. And at every new step fresh light is received, MAXIM VII. 69 which reveals the imperfections of the preceding state. Therefore, instead of overwearying ourselves by scanning our intentions, we need only make good use of the light given by God. But, on the other hand, we must faithfully consult and follow that ; and must immediately reject every imperfec- tion which it makes known to us. Hereby we gradually attain to a purity of intention which is more or less perfect, according to God’s will concerning us. For purity of intention is the measure of holiness, and is proportionate to the degree of light communicated by God, and to the faithfulness of our correspondence to the same. God indeed considers, not our actions in them- selves, but our motives. Therefore the slightest action of the Blessed Virgin was of greater value in the eyes of God than the noblest works of other Saints, because her intention was incom- parably pure. Simplicity is identical with purity of intention. Therefore our Loed says : ‘‘If thine eye be single that is, if thy sight be directed to one only object, which is God. So that I might be silent concerning simplicity, and content myself with what has now been said concerning purity of intention. But it is desirable to show that sim- |)licity, which few persons rightly understand, is the root and essence of all perfection. To this intent we must raifee our minds to God Himself, and in the first place consider simplicity as it shows itself in Him. That only which is infinite is perfectly simple ; that only which is perfectly simple is infinite. .Vll things finite are manifold or complex; and all things complex are finite. This rule has no 70 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. exception. Therefore, perfect simplicity befits God only ; and accounts for the infinity of His perfections. The being of God is infinite ; be- cause it is simple and all in all, without extension • or division. His eternity is infinite : because it is simple, having neither beginning, middle, nor end, and excluding the very idea of duration ex- pressed by a succession of instants ; His power is infinite : because it is simple, extending to all things possible, and exercised without effort, by a pure act of will. His knowledge is infinite : because it is simple, and consists in one idea, which is the idea of God Himself, in which He always sees all that has been, is, and will be, and all that is to abide in the order of possibilities. The very essence of God is infinite, because it is simple ; in Him essence is existence, attributes are one with themselves and with essence, and are distinguished only by definitions conceived according to our own weak imaginations. So also with moral attributes. Though finite in their effects with respect to us, they are infinite in themselves, by reason of their simplicity ; as, holiness, wisdom, goodness, justice, mercy. The end of all God’s works is likewise infinite, because simple : it is to His glory that all things must concur. Minds exercised in reflection may follow out the sublime theory which I merely indicate. As simplicity is the chief characteristic of the perfections, and designs, and ' works of God, we cannot wonder that it is the chief constituent of perfection in reasonable creatures. Being finite, they are incapable of physical simphcity, but not of moral simplicity ; and this they are bound to make their one object. With regard to the creature, simplicity is re- MAXIM VII. 71 duced to one point : namely, that God alone is to be the rule of idea and judgment, the aim of de- sire, the end of action and suffering ; all is to refer to Him, His good pleasure is to be preferred to all things. His holy will alone is always to be sought, seen, and followed out. Much is contained in this short summary. The soul is truly simple, when it has attained this single view of God, and is perfected in unity. Ineffable unity, which in some sort deifies us by a most entire moral union with Him Who is supremely and absolutely One. “ One to was the continual expression of a great contem- plative. How deep a meaning lies in those few words ! They express all the truth and perfection of holiness, and all the happiness of which it is the well-s]Dring. God is One by a unity which befits Him, and Him alone. He is One, and necessarily draws all things into His own unity. He is One, and sanctifies all things by participation in His unity ; He is One, and all creatures capable of being happy are only so by possession of His unity. Therefore, in order to be holy or happy, the soul must be one by adhesion of mind and heart to Him only, for Him only, without any turning back towards self. If, besides looking to God, it gazes upon self, in any way soever distinguishing it from God, with a sense of ownership that sepa- rates its interests from those of God, that soul is no longer one or simple in mind, but double, having two objects ; and as long as it is in this state, it cannot possibly be immediately united to God : it is not so united in this world by faith ; nor will it be hereafter, till purification has burnt away all its multiplicity. Therefore, if we desire holiness and, happiness, 72 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. let US aspire to simplicity and unity: study to simplify our views, by accustoming ourselves to look upon God alone : forget ourselves, to think of Him : have no will or interest but His : seek His glory alone : and find our happiness in His. This is the state of the blessed. We shall not be admitted to the sight and fruition of God, till we attain to this mind ; let us do so on earth, as far as possible. But how can we acquire this sublime simplicity, the very idea of which transcends all our concep- tions ? Let us pray the JMost Holy Himself to undertake the work of our simplification ; let us devote ourselves to Him with this intention. Our own exertions will never rid us of multiplicity. But the more God acts alone in us, and the more we yield to the operations of grace, the more we shall increase in simplicity, without seeing, or wishing to see our own progress. Sim]3licity in understanding, from which God will banish much prejudice, many uncertain opi- nions, and doubts, and false judgments, substi- tuting in their place most simple truth, from which, again. He will put aside suspicion, mis- trust, and forecastings, the results of false pru- dence : and will gradually reduce our multifold cogitations to a gaze of simple intelligence. Simplicity in the will, which will own but one desire, one fear, one love, one hatred, and one object of affection, tending towards that object with invariable rectitude and unconquerable strength. Simplicity in virtues, which will all meet and mingle in charity, as far as the state of this pre- sent life allows. Simplicity in prayer, which will be, so to speak, one only act containing all acts in MAXIM VII. 73 tself. And lastly, simplicity in conduct, which will be even, uniform, straightforward, and true, arising from one principle, and reaching onward towards one aim. Uprightness is but another name for purity of intention and simplicity. As Scripture tells us, ‘‘ God made man upright turned towards Himself alone, with an inward yearning for nearness to, and union with Him. But man had the power of turning towards himself,, was tempted, and fell. Thence arose original sin and its consequences, which gave prodi- gious impetus to this tendency towards self : to which, without God’s recalling grace, we can- not but yield. I am aware that as long as a man retains sanc- tifying grace, he does not lose that essential up- rightness which is necessary and sufficient for salvation. But every act of self-love, of self-com- placency, of seeking one’s own interest unsubordi- nated to the interest of God, is a deflection from that uprightness, which, however slight, may en- tail most grievous consequences. dTe danger of the least error of this kind is twofold : first, we can never, by our own strength, regain our former uprightness, however slightly we may have di- verged from it ; secondly, we have no power of stopping, nor of carrying our deflection to a given point, and no further. These two considerations ought to weigh with us so deeply as to prevent our ever taking one deliberate step out of the right way. Let us thoroughly examine the character of uur devotion, and ascertain whether it is pure, simple, and upright. And as it is possible that we may be blinded on the subject, let us pray, and ask 74 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. advice, and profit by the light we receive from God. If we make good use of this, we shall re- ceive it more abundantly, and insensibly acquire the purity of intention, simplicity, and rectitude, which are now, and always have been, so rare among persons professing piety. c 76 J EIGHTH MAXIIM. ^foHoto tit eniiobtcning .Spirit of ^Tfenst. |iai0tiu0t tbe ijlintJiu'S0 anti macb^vp of natural minD. “ Irust in the Lord with all thine hearty and lean not unto thine own understanding.''' VI II. OF THE NATURAL SPIRIT AND THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. Most devout persons are religious after their own fashion and according to their own ideas and caprices. Very small is the number of those who deny themselves thoroughly, and seek to follow no light but that of grace. Such a line of con- duct, on which depends almost all progress in the interior life, is much more difficult to men than to women, because they trust more to their own judgment. If it be suggested to a man full of confidence in his own reason and good sense, that he should give up his natural spirit in order to enter into the ways of God, he does not under- stand or see the necessity of the thing proposed ; he has no notion that the thoughts of God are higher than our thoughts, and His ways other than our ways. He supposes that he has the right to guide himself, and the power to guide others. What is the consequence? We are never thoroughly subjected to the Spirit of God ; we contradict it, and fight against it in ourselves and in the souls under our charge ; we form false 76 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. judgments concerning spiritual things and per- sons ; we obstinately reject what is good, and ap- prove what is evil, or else vary perpetually, so that there is nothing fixed and continuous in our principles or our direction. But what is the natural spirit V It is human reason, in so far as it professes to judge of the things of God by its own light without recourse to the light of grace ; it is natural sense which believes itself sufiicient to set down maxims and rules of conduct in these matters, both for itself and others : and which forms plans and methods without either consulting God, or those who are set over us in His place. In order fully to under- stand this, we must lay down as a first principle, that supernatural light alone gives us knowledge of spiritual things, and of all that pertains to the operations of grace ; that our ideas on these points are only correct so far as God Himself impresses them upon our souls ; that by this means alone we rightly understand what is written concerning them in Holy Scripture, and in books treating on such matters ; that without this light we can- not possibly distinguish, in ourselves or in others, between that which emanates from God, or that which springs from other sources. Hence it follows, that if the spirit of man is to form right judgment on religious matters, it must be constantly dependent on the spirit of God, and fully persuaded of its own insufficiency and in- capacity ; it must have incessant recourse to prayer, or rather must exist in a state of habitual prayer. It also follows that a true acquaintance with the secrets of the interior life is not to be acquired only by reading books on the subject, however MAXIM VI n. 77 correct and profound they may be ; nor yet by the mere meditation in which a man simply calls his own reflections to his assistance ; but light from on high must be drawn down by humble prayer. Otherwise he will not understand what he reads ; or, presuming that he does so, will mis- understand. In general he who does not lead an interior life comprehends little of spiritual matters, and is unable to make proper use of the little that he does grasp. And moreover, even he who has an interior spirit, can only understand, in books, such things as he has himself experienced. All that is beyond his own state is unintelligible to him, unless light be given him whereby to com- prehend it. And God, leading us by the dark paths of faith, will not give us that light for our- selves ; but grants it to those whom He entrusts with the direction of others. This knowledge, being infused, is only to be re- tained by humility, faithful correspondence to grace, and continual care to advance in piety. It is lost, if pride appropriates it to self, if prayer and other sustaining exercises are neglected, if too much scope is allowed to reasoning and curio- sity, and if no curb is placed on the activity of the mind, which should be passive when it is to receive what God has to give. Nothing is more delicate than the spirit of God : it is infinitely pure, and refuses all intermixture of the natural spirit. Nothing is more difficult than to receive and preserve it in perfect purity, because we are so much inclined to mingle something of our own with it. Nothing requires more attention, watchfulness, and mistrust of self. Self-love and Satan make it their one business to injure and quench this spirit in our hearts, turning us 78 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. aside from its pursuit, and depriving us of it hy secret and imperceptible devices. A volume would be necessary for the full deli- neation of the natural spirit, for the definition of its distinctive characteristics, and the history of its fatal effects. It is the oldest disease of the soul ; it preceded original sin itself, and caused it in our first parents. They would not have sinned, had they not discussed the commandment of God, sought out the motives of His prohibition, and listened to the tempter’s suggestions on the sub- ject. The natural spirit taught them to scruti- nise, and led them to disobey ; to it they owed the loss of their original rectitude, and of their sim- plicity, and happy innocence ; and the fatal ac- quaintance with evil previously unknown. This disease is most universal, most deeply seated, most inveterate, most difficult to cure. It is a subtle poison, corrupting the whole substance of the soul, and infecting its good qualities and virtues. It is the enemy of God and of His grace, forbids entrance to His gifts, or robs us of them ; all sins committed by man are either its effects or its punishment. Ordinary grace is in- sufficient for the cure of this disease. It resists the most violent remedies ; and requires that they be of a special kind. Its cure demands long acute trials ; and while life lasts, we cannot be certain that it is eradicated ; one glance at self may re- vive the malady in the noblest of souls, and death alone frees them from it completely. Self-will is another misery, which opened hell, as S. Bernard says. It follows closely after the natural spirit, and is, so to speak, its daughter ; for our judgments precede and fix our affections. If the heart clings to objects from which the mind MAXIM VIII. 79 bids it turn, or feels aversion for what the mind would incline it to love, it is only when the mind is guided by pure reason or by grace, and both these lights come from God. So the fact remains that, not only deliberate sins, but sins of frailty, are all children of the natural spirit. Hence we may perceive how dangerous it is, and how much we ought to be on our guard against it. The marks by which it is to be distinguished would easily be recognized, if seen by other eyes than one’s own. We readily perceive them in others, and are but too clear-sighted about them. But the signs which strike us in others, escape our sight when we look at ourselves. This spirit is confident, presumptuous, argu- mentative, ready and bold in judging; holds its own, and is unwilling to give way, because it is fully imbued with a sense of its own correctness. It always insists on seeing, and is loth to bend under the yoke of authority which compels it to believe. It is curious and must know everything ; it does not perceive its own bounds, and, supposing all things to be within its depth, ventures to fathom all. It would not dare to assert its own infallibility ; but it decides as positively as if it did so. Confession of error is its greatest humi- liation ; the more you endeavour to prove it in the wrong, the more it resists conviction ; even when convinced, it refuses to yield, and it usually, through obstinacy, shuts its eyes to recognized truth. Moreover, its sight is imperfect, and does not accept things as they are, but views them in the light most flattering to itself. It is deceitful, false, perverse, haughty, satirical, and contemp- tuous, continually on the watch against humilia- 80 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. tion, loving adulation, and always secretly adding to the praises bestowed upon itself. And it is mistrustful, suspicious, ready to believe e^dl, to doubt good, and to give a bad interpretation to the most innocent things; always self-satisfied, never pleased with others, unless praised by them ; always holding them to be in the VTong, as soon as they begin to contradict or blame. Such, and still more horrible, are the features of the natiual spirit. It would be shocked, could it see itself as it is ; but the crowning point of its misery lies in that it is blind ; and its wilful blindness increases by reason of its deformity. If you endeavour to open its eyes you irritate and excite it ; it rebels against you, and all you say in order to undeceive it, merely confirms it in its self- complacency. The reason is, that, blind as it is, it fancies itself clear-sighted. The more it is mistaken with regard to itself, the more certain it feels that it does itself a justice wliich is refused it by others. Its blindness arises from the fact that it sees itself only by the false glare of pride, vanity, and presumption, which not only hides its vices and defects, but gives them the appearance of virtues. If it could consult reason, and, yet rather, grace, it would know itself rightly by means of the double lights ; but it never does so, and inasmuch as it is a natural spirit, it is inca- pable of so doing. In these words I depict almost all men, even those who profess piety and devotion, and a gveat number of those who think themselves interior and spiritual. The natural spirit, as regards re- ligion, is the very same thing as the spirit of the Pharisees, of which our Lord drew so striking a MAXIM VIII. 81 picture. He attacked it strenuously by word, condemned it openly by act, and vouchsafed to be its victim, in order the more thoroughly to deter His disciples from it. And yet unfortunately this spirit is very com- mon among Christians, both lay and clerical. Those jDriests are possessed by it who look out for temporal advantage and the good opinion of men; who receive the great and rich wdth open arms and flattering words, while they deal harshly with the mean and poor ; who exercise despotic rule over men’s consciences ; who parade great rigour and inflexible severity, exaggerating and condemning, and discovering sin in every- thing. This spirit also actuates those who are slaves to external practices, knowing the letter only, and not the spirit of the law ; who have one set routine of prayers, and will on no account sitep beyond the circle they have drawn round themselves ; who think nothing right but what they do, and are continually looking at their neighbours in order to blame them concerning every point in which they are unlike themselves ; who, acquainted only with set meditation, which they perform in a dry manner, in which the heart has little share, condemn simple, humble prayer, and call it a barren and dangerous idle- ness ; who boast themselves of a strained, af- fected kind of spirituality, the seat of which is not in the heart, but in the proud mind and deluded imagination. In the devotion of all these people, the natural spirit is substituted for the spirit of God, or at any rate so mingled with it as to hinder their progress, bring discredit on piety, and scandalize Worthy persons, who are thus disgusted with reli- G 82 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. gion, as if it were responsible for an admixture which indeed it absolutely condemns. The first thing to be resolved by any one wdio intends to lead a thoroughly Christian life, and to discard from his devotions all the faults just mentioned, is, not only to mistrust his natural spirit, but to study how to rid himself of it : fighting with it, and hunting it down without mercy. This war forms the chief part of that self-denial which our Lord enjoins on all who seek to follow Him. But the natural spirit cannot fight against itself because it does not know itself. Keason, unless enlightened by faith and aided by grace, is but a feeble weapon. There is no known example of any philosopher who by his own reflections ever succeeded in ridding himself of his natural spirit. Ihe slight conquests won in that way, far from w^eakening it, supply it with fresh strength, by reason of the vain complacency derived from victory. It can b}’’ no means be overcome, except it be attacked with the arms of grace, and with prayer that God would aid the strife by His own Almighty hand. It must be laid before God as His mortal enemy, declaring that its utter de- struction will be hailed as the greatest blessing. If this declaration is sincere and often reiterated, God will take the battle into His own hands, and teach us how to second Him. He will endue us with His own spirit, and we shall soon feel a sense of its presence. This spirit will gra- dually undermine and regulate the activity of our owm. It wiU stop its discussions, quiet its agita- tions, rectify its ideas, correct its malignity, beat ciovvn its pride, cut away its propensity for grasp- MAXIM VIIl. 83 ing ; and bring ns by degrees to that state in which, like S. Paul, we may say : I live ; yet not I ; but Chimst liveth in me.” H ow is this done ? That is one of the secret things of God ; so perfectly inexplicable, that the human spirit cannot unravel it. All I can say is, that we soon perceive the first effects of the Divine work ; we feel ourselves to be q uite different persons. We know that the cause of the change is an interior spirit, communicated by God : but what is that interior spirit? How does it work? We know not. The change at once produced by it in the ideas and affections is such, that it must have been felt to be understood. Scripture speaks of it as the birth of the new, inward, spiritual man, who, by his gradual development imperceptibly destroys the old man, and, when arrived at full vigour, slays him utterly. The nourishment of this new man is prayer : infused prayer, prayer never intermit- ted while reason retains its sway, and resumed on waking after the night’s rest ; prayer made within us, yet in some sort without our own act, and which, when once habitual, is maintained with little difficulty. This is the unobtrusive weapon ever acting upon the natural spirit. Its work is aided by tempta- tions, trials, contradictions, and humiliations. God employs all means to quell so formidable an enemy; even the prejudices and wickedness of men, the malice of Satan, and the threatening arms of His own justice. So Job says: “The terrors of God do set themselves in array against me.” The soul seconds God in this war by yield- ing itself to His crucifying operations, and super- adding the practices of interior mortification. 84 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. It will be readily allowed that the natural spirit is as I have described it, blind, deceitful, and treacherous ; that we ought to follow after the Spirit of Christ, which prevents us from walk- ing in darkness, and gives us the light of life : that it is the intention of all who honestly serve God to follow that spirit ; but it will be asked why so few do really follow it. I make answer, that the number of those who honestly serve God is not so large as is supposed ; not on account of hypocrisy or an intentional de- ceiving of others, but by reason of the prevalence of self-deceit. If men wxre so honest, would they flatter themselves ? Would they spare themselves ? ^^"ould they withhold from God so many things which they know He asks of them? Would they turn such a deaf ear to grace, and complain of its importunity ? Would they use so many little de- vices for the reconciling of their own interests wdth those of God ? Are they unconscious that He bids Christians deny themselves thoroughly and constantly? Do they do so? Honesty does at least accuse itself of its own shortcomings, hum- bles itself and repents, makes strenuous efforts for amendment, and prays unceasingly with that in- tent. And I appeal to honesty ; let it answer me, or rather answer God, and that sincerely, on all these points. So, likewise, I say that the intention men en- tertain of following Christ is generally vague, superficial, and speculative, without determinate object, not springing from the depth of the will, and not maintained in practice. He who would follow the spirit of Christ must needs be ac- quainted with it ; but in order to such acquaint- ance, it must be studied ; and in order to such MAXIM VIII. 85 study, one must enter into the mind of Jesus, and search out the feelings and dispositions of His soul. And who are those that dwell in the mind of Jesus? Who, again, are those who put in practice what they know of His mind, and are determined to carry to the utmost point their con- formity with the Divine model ? vSuch Christians are rare. jMost persons have not even the slightest idea of the spirit of Jesus ; others are afraid of know- ing too much about it, because they know them- selves bound to conform their lives to it; and others are willing imperfectly to imitate a few of its features, but will not go so far as to attempt an entire resemblance. What really was the mind of Christ, the spirit which gives us light, and guides us in the way of salvation? It was a perfectly interior spirit, by which He was constantly united to God His Father, de sooted to His glory and His good pleasure ; a spirit lifted infinitely beyond all perishable pleasures, riches, and honours ; leading Him to choose and embrace poverty and obscurity, labour and suffering, humiliation and opprobrium ; detached from all natural affections and feelings ; always and in all things dependent on grace, and so submissive to its workings as never to think, or will, or desire, or do anything apart from it ; a spirit, over which the Divinity to which it was hy- postatically united exercised perfect sway, bound- less authority, and constant influence; a spirit Avhich maintained Him in a state of perfect devo- tion to His Father’s interests, of unreserved sacrifice to the claims of Divine justice, of utter humility, and continual mortification. This was the spirit of Christ, which we, as 86 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. Christians, are bound to make our own. In this respect especially He is set forth for our pattern, as Head of the elect. God willed to show us in Him what we ought to be, and in order to serve as an example to us, the Eternal W ord vouchsafed to assume our nature. Disciples are bound to tread in their ^Master’s footsteps. Some persons excuse themselves by saying that Jesus was God ; but He offers Himself for our imitation, not as God, but as man. We shall never attain the perfections of the Divine Ori- ginal ; we are well aware of that, and it would be unpiously absurd to profess to do so. But every man ought to endeavour to respond to his own especial grace, as Christ responded to His. God asks no more, but neither does He ask less. It may be suggested that, as Jesus w^as God, all things were easy to Him. Certainly He could not sin, nor could He resist grace ; nor was there in Him any obstacle to any virtue soever. And withal, He certainly endured a state incomparably more painful than that of all Martyrs and all Saints put together ; human nature was over- whelmed and crushed in Him, under the fearful weight of God’s vengeance on sin ; if He \vas GoD-man, He certainly felt, and suffered all that a GoD-man could feel, and suffer. God does nothing in vain; and in the great design of the Incarnation and the redemption of mankind, all was ruled by infinite wisdom, and measured by exact justice. That wdiich He required of Christ was proportionate to the grace and strength He had received. Yet, if the sight of so perfect a pattern terrifies our cowardice, let us turn our eyes on mere men : on S. Paul, for instance, who called on Christians MAXIM VIII. 87 to be followers of him, as he also was of Christ. Let us study the mind and feelings of the Apostle in his Epistles, and impress them on our own life. I shall be told that he was a man converted by extraordinary grace, a chosen vessel, concerning whom God had high designs, and on whom He lavished His bounties. I make answer that S. Paul was neither sanctified by his apostleship nor by his election, but by his correspondence to God’s calling. And in this only, in his good use of God’s grace, are you asked to imitate him. Who hinders you ? Was not S. Paul a blasphemer and a persecutor, when God cast him down to the ground? When grace appeals to you, say, as he did : “ Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do ?” And then, do the bidding of grace as faithfully as he did. Will you have patterns still more within your reach? Head the lives of Saints. There have been Saints of all ages, all ranks, all conditions. Many retained baptismal innocence ; others had been great sinners ; they were subject to the same passions, and habits, and temptations, as our- selves : and sometimes to greater ; that is, they had as many or more obstacles to surmount, and it is remarkable that the Church never won more Saints than in those first ages when the profession of Christianity was a pledge of martyrdom. Then you will complain that they were Saints. What other models would you have? Where- unto are you called, save to holiness, like theirs ? They were sanctified only by living as true dis- ciples of Christ, and followdng the spirit, and teaching, and example of their Master. But whence do these vain objections arise? From the natural spirit ; and nothing more clearly 88 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. shows its blindness. In all arts the best models are sought out, studied with extreme care, and sedulously imitated. And shall we complain of the too great perfection of our models in the chief of all arts, that art which only is important, the art of rightly ruling one’s life, becoming well- pleasing in God’s sight, and worthy of His eternal fruition? What monstrous contradiction ! We refuse to put on the spirit' of Christ, be- cause it would involve the putting off our own. As if an artist refused to assume the manner of a great master, rather than depart from his own worthless style. But so long as men will not give up their natural spirit, they must give up the idea of being real Christians, for there is no real practical Christianity, except that which consists in thinking and acting according to the spirit of Christ. ( 89 ) NINTH MAXIM. (2’aftc no account of ctternat t!)in0^; ?ecTi >£ftrcnuou0i(!? after tl)o^r \n]&ic!) are to lie founb toitjin. ** Commune with your own heart and in your own chamber^ and be stills IX. OF THE OUTWARD AND INWARD MAN. The natural man, the old man, the man of sin, is called the outward man on account of his natural bias to objects of sense; and the spiritual man, the new man, that man according to grace, is called the inward man, because, dwelling apart in himself with God, he only cleaves to things invi- sible and supernatural. Sensible objects hold a marvellous sway over man. Their power begins in childhood, when pleasures and pain arise from these sources only. It develops with age ; the soul is keenly affected by all that strikes it from without ; admiration and envy are excited by those accidents which raise some persons above their fellows, as, nobi- lity, office, honour, and riches. Men look on these things as truly good, bestow their esteem and love upon them, seek only to enjoy them, and believe that happiness lies in the possession, and misery in the absence of these advantages. The work of sense and of corrupt nature is already far advanced, when grace comes forward 90 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. to destroy it, and raise a very different building on its ruins. She teaches us that we are true Christians only in so far as we despise sensible things, and apply ourselves to things spiritual ; ceasing to be outward men, and becoming alto- gether interior men ; so that the Christian who is interior in certain respects, at intervals, and as it were, by fits and starts, is imperfect, while the perfect Christian is interior in all things and at all times; and aiming at an interior life and at Christian perfection are one and the' same thing. This is a hard lesson for nature to learn. Some refuse to accept it at all ; others listen with much ado, resist for a length of time, put it in practice as little as possible, and that with great repug- nance. It is received and fully and faithfully observed by very few persons, and even these pass through long and painful struggles in the first place. The wisdom from above is so dif- ferent from the wisdom of the flesh ; it is so difficult to rise to the noble philosophy of grace. The Christian is, in this respect, a supernatural being, intended, not only for immortality, but for the eternal fruition of God ; and that fruition passes all his thoughts, desires, and hopes, and even the exigencies of his nature : it is His Creator’s pure gift ; promised by revelation, and known to him by faith alone. He is prepared for this end by other blessings of the same order, which are called graces. The chiefest of these is habitual, and is called sanctifying grace ; the others are actual graces, which tend either to the recovery of sanctifying grace, if it be lost, or to its preservation and increase. The object of these graces is to give a supernatural character both to the state of the Christian and to the free MAXIM IX. 91 acts by wliicli he may and must merit the fruition of God. The Christian is born into this world, and dwells therein for a certain time. But he is not of the world, it is not his, he is a stranger and a sojourner. Present and sensible advantages are not his object ; as S. Auguscine says, he may use them, but not enjoy them ; that is, God grants them to him for the necessities of his animal life, but his heart is not to cling to them, nor to rest on them as its final end. The true riches of the Christian on earth are, grace, close com- munion with God, and everything which fosters supernatural life within him : and those things only are real evils which weaken that life, or deprive him of it. External good and evil, therefore, are to him properly speaking, neither really good, nor really evil; but things called good may become evil, and the reverse, according to the use he makes of them. It is not so with interior good and evil. These are essentially connected with his supernatural state ; that is, with his state as a Christian, and his eternal happiness or misery. Consequently, he ought to be indifferent to sensible good and evil, because in themselves they are indifferent things, which are profitable or hurtful to him, according to his interior dispositions. And, on the other hand, the whole strength of his mind and will must be devoted to the acquire- ment and eschewal of such good and evil things as are of a supernatural order, and which can never be indifferent to him, on account of their intimate connection with his last end. All Christians are much of one mind touching this great truth, as far as theory is concerned ; 92 SPII^ITUAL MAXIMS. but almost all follow other principles in practice. I am not alluding to those who thirst passionately for riches and honours and pleasures, and consider all means as lawful, whereby their desires may be obtained. These are Christians only in name, and as long as they continue in such a mind, they they have no pretensions to being so in deed. Bnt, among the remainder, are there many who are not proud of noble birth and title ? Or who, having it in their power to aspire to honours and dignities, do not wish to obtain them, use many exertions for the purpose, feel delighted when their plans succeed, and unhappy when they are frustrated? Or who do not envy suc- cessful rivals ? Or who, satisfied with an insig- nificant position, make no attempt to rise, wait quietly till others think of them, and are not annoyed at being forgotten ? Or who, in order to rise in life, make use of none but strictly honourable means ? Or who look on offices and employments solely as concerning the common weal, and not chiefly as regards private advantage? Touching riches, I jDass over the countless number of men in all ranks of life who obtain them by means forbidden by uprightness and true religion, and concerning which so much self-deceit prevails. But I ask : Are Christians often to be found, who, having wherewith to support their families decently and sufficiently, wish for nothing further? Are they apt to believe that they do possess a sufficiency, or are they not always fancying that they have not enough ? And is it not true that pride accompanies opulence, and that self-esteem increases in proportion to riches? As to pleasures, even of those permissible (for I speak not of others), how much sensuality is to MAXIM IX. 93 be found amongst Christians, how much care, how much daintiness ! How eagerly these pleasures are sought out ! How passionately they are enjoyed ! How artfully they are invented, and varied, and multiplied ! How careful men are to have all their comforts about them, to avoid the slightest disagreeables, to flatter their flesh, and bestow on it all the gratification for which it is so ravenous? People think themselves good Christians, if, in all these matters, they keep within the letter of the law, and run into no excess. But this is very different from the mind of a perfect Christian. He stifles every germ of ambition in his heart ; he not only does not desire honours, but fears, abhors, and avoids them : remembering the words of the Gospel : “ That which is highly esteemed among men is abomination in the sight of God.’’ Positions of dignity appear to him to involve a great burden for the conscience, great duties to be fulfilled, and great account to be rendered. If birth or Providence call him to fill such posts, he appears in the simple garb of modesty and humility ; he is watchful against himself and against the snares laid for him on all sides ; he continually examines his conduct with most scrupulous attention, thinking himself answerable for all the good he does not do, and all the evil he does not hinder. If he is of low estate, he thanks God for it, and rejoices in it, as being a state more conformable to the Gospel, happier, more innocent, more conducive to salvation ; and he is far from making any attempts to change it. He not only hates honours, but wishes for hu- miliations, because he knows and feels their value ; and if they befal him, he receives them as favours from heaven, and thinks himself happy if de^ SPIRITUAL MAXnrS. 94 spised, cast out, slandered, and persecuted, like his Master. As to riches, the true Christian, taught by the Gospel, regards them as thorns and encumbrances which turn him away, in spite of himself, from more important matters ; he possesses them with- out cleaving to them, uses them with extreme moderation, divides them with the poor, whose steward he feels himself to be, and diminishes his own expenses as much as possible in their favour, believing that his superfluities are necessary to them, and that all he can spare belongs to them. If he is poor, he is glad of his poverty, pleased to feel its effects, and to want sometimes for neces- sary things ; he would not allow in himself the least desire of greater competency. He feels it too great a privilege thus to bear some resemblance to his Lord, Who chose a state of poverty wherein to be born, to live, and to die. The holy severity of the Gospel is his rule in the use of pleasures. He seeks out none for their own sakes, and passes through natural and neces- sary gratifications as through fire. In no respect will he indulge the flesh ; he mortifies it ingeni- ously, granting no quarter to predilections, and conquering repugnances ; but all with holy liberty, unaffectedly and discreetly. No Saint, that is, no true Christian, ever treated his body indulgently ; and it has been the general practice of such men to bring it into subjection by fastings, and watch- ings, and macerations, which terrify our self- indulgence and cowardice. They all considered it an essential duty to bear about in their body the dying of the Lord Jesus. Such, with regard to this world’s goods, have perfect Christians always been, even when living MAXIM IX. 95 in the world ; for I do not limit what I have now said to those who have embraced voluntary po- verty and chastity, and who have altogether left the world for solitary places and monasteries. Let not those be alarmed at this picture, who, as S. Bernard says, see but the cross we have to bear, and see not the unction which we receive withal ; let them not fancy that a true Christian’s life is one of perpetual constraint and torture. Lhe licentious and the impious love to depict it under such hideous colours, in order to excuse themselves for having turned their backs upon it. But they blaspheme that which they know not ; they intentionally deceive themselves, and desire to deceive others. No ; the true Christian, following out the moral teaching of religion, is not constrained and tortured ; he does, indeed, do violence to his na- ture, but not to his mind or his heart. He is perfectly convinced that he ought to do what he does, and he delights to do it. Through grace, he despises, hates, and avoids the sweet and false advantages of which he deprives himself. God has raised his soul above such things : He has shown him the nature of true honours, riches, and pleasures ; and that sight prevents him from beholding elsewhere anything but vanity and vexation of spirit. In the school, first of wisdom, and then of experience, the Christian learns that to serve God is to reign, that the possession of virtue constitutes wealth, and that true pleasure consists in peace of mind. The Christian made this discovery when he turned his thoughts upon his own soul, and re- flected on past errors, and acknowledged that he had never found happiness in the enjoyment of 96 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. this world’s goods ; when he listened to God in the silence of meditation and prayer. It was then that he really saw the nothingness of earthly things, and understood that they were capable indeed of exciting his passions, but never of satisfying his heart. Then a deep secret touch of grace taught him that man’s true happiness lies in God ; and that, in order to enjoy and possess it, he must give up, or at least give up his love for, all other joy. From that time forth, all things have seemed insipid, except prayer and com- munion with God ; the world has been crucified to him and he to the world ; he has been attracted to God alone ; he has sought Him, and found Him within his own soul, which is God’s very temple. Who shall express the delight of finding within ^ one's self what had vainly been sought elsewhere? Of discovering the real, infinite, inexhaustible treasure, the treasure wTich only is capable of filling the immense capacity of the heart, or, rather, for wTich the heart is too small, and wherein it plunges and loses itself. After feeling what this happiness is, how should he dream of leaving God for created things, and forsaking the fountain of living w^aters for broken cisterns, wdiich can hold no water ? It is perfectly impossible ; unless, with mon- strous faithlessness, he gradually leaves the in- terior path on which he bad entered. You may make meditation, and even do it w^ell, and yet keep up some connection with the senses and wfith matters which please them ; but you cannot make true contemplative prayer for any length of time, without breaking off intercourse with created things. For the property of such prayer is, to MAXIM IX. 97 concentrate all the affections on God, and to allow ns to love nothing save through Him, in Him, and for Him. Make the attempt, Christian soul, and you will see if I speak truly. If you tell me that it is not in your power to enter on this path of prayer, 1 answer, on God’s behalf, that He is ready to second your good will, and to bring you into it, if you prepare for it by such means as depend upon yourself. Have such a good will ; and, as you cannot assure yourself of having it, ask it of God : and that instantly. This very request would be the beginning of it ; and how should God refuse you what He inspires you to ask? If few persons possess it, it is because few desire it, and those who do ask it, for the most part, fear to obtain it. God reads the heart ; He sees whether we respond to the feelings which He breathes into it, and always hearkens to those who do so respond. But He hearkens to those only. Others reproach Him, as if He rejected their prayers : I pray in vain, they say, I ask in vain for a good will ; God does not give it me. He will one day show them that, if they had it not, they themselves only were to blame. I repeat, that a soul which co-operates to the best of its power with present grace, must infallibly obtain greater graces from moment to moment ; and if it carries on this co-operation steadily, it will certainly attain to all the holiness which God expects of it. n ( 98 ) TENTH MAXIM Hifiten to tDf)o teach'tft fteart toit!)out 0OunD of ttJovD^. Htctilie peace, and QuatO it faitdfuHp. “ 1 ivill speak to Ms heart.''’' X. OF KECOLLECTION, ACTIVE AND PASSIVE. The delights of God are with man ; He loves to speak to his heart ; and therefore the secret of a spiritual life consists in knowing how to retire into one’s own heart and dwell therein with God. How does God convert sinners ? By calling them to enter into their own hearts : as soon as they do so, their sins appear before their eyes, and cause them great remorse ; healthful thoughts arise in their minds ; good feelings crowd into their souls. If they do not shrink from dwelling within them- selves : if they do not flee from themselves, and seek relief or diversion in outward objects, a change will soon take place in their lives. If a soul is well meaning, but unsettled, giddy, prone to many faults, clinging to certain venial sins : or if, having once been fervent, it has fallen into laxity, God makes use of these same means to bring it out of imperfection, or restore it from lukewarmness. He calls it into itself. There it hears reproaches, and the reproaches are just, gentle, and severe. If it listens with a docile spirit, it improves, and if it continues thus dwell- MAXIM X. 99 ing within itself with God, it will infallibly advance from strength to strength. This turning to listen to the voice of grace within the heart is called recollection. The term expresses that act whereby the soul gathers and collects into itseK those powers of attention which had been scattered and divided amongst divers objects. There are two sorts of recollec- tion ; one, active : which is the work of the will aided by grace ; the other, passive : which is the gift of God. The latter is usually the reward of the former, after that has been faithfully practised for some space of time. The first object of active recollection is the custody of the senses, especially sight and hearing ; which are, as it were, the windows through which the soul looks out and busies itself with passing matters. Whilst exclusively attentive to external things, it cannot watch over itself, nor give heed to the internal teacher that seeks to instruct and correct it ; it cannot so much as hear his words. Therefore it is necessary early to accustom one’s self to exercise great restraint over one’s eyes, so as to acquire the power of turning them, not only from dangerous, but from distracting and amusing objects. By staying the restless mobility of the eyes, we obtain an efficacious means whereby to stop the flightiness and moderate the vivacity of our imagination ; to prevent the arising of pas- sion, and to set the soul in a condition which is very favourable to meditation, and still more so to prayer. Eagerness to hear and know everything is not less fatal to solid piety; and it cannot be too carefully repressed. By means of the ears, the soul is taken up with a variety of things which 100 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. afterwards distract, and fill it, in spite of itself, even at the time of prayer. Therefore we choose quiet places for meditation ; therefore the tumult of cities naturally distracts the mind, while the silence of woods and fields invites to recollec- tion. Besides, unprofitable curiosity leads to long, frequent, and uncharitable conversations, imper- tinent questions, suspicions, conjectures, hasty judgments, endless discussions on public and private affairs ; in these things God is often offended, and they are incompatible with a spirit of prayer and true devotion. So then he who would prepare himself for an interior life must give up the habit of constantly running after rarities of all sorts : pictures, sta- tues, fine buildings, festivities, and public repre- sentations, which move the soul too violently, and in which many things concur to inspire false pleasures or dangerous passion. He ought not to l3e eager to know the gossip of a town, the family affairs of others, or public news ; nor ought he to occupy his time in such matters, unless obliged to do so by position or personal interest. S'ot that one may not casually and occasionally see and hear such things without evil result, but they are not to be longed for, nor clung to, and their place in the mind must be kept subordinate to more important subjects. Mental curiosity is no less to be feared ; and he who would attain the habit of recollectedness, must learn to keep it within due bounds. By mental curiosity, I mean that immoderate desire of learning and knowing, which causes people to study various sciences eagerly, and generally superficially : to read every book as it comes out, rather for the sake of showing off than of im- MAXIM X. 101 provement. Recollectedness cannot, I think, be compatible with such a disposition, which rather is the sign of a shallow mind. Let us not fall into this defect ; or, if we are prone to it, let us strive against it. We must be satisfied with such learning as is necessary or suit- able to us individually ; we must not read a book simply because it is new or much talked of ; and even as to religious works, those we study should be few and good. We must not be like those persons who want to have every book of that kind, going continually from one to another, without finishing any. This is not the place to dwell on the manner of reading such works to advantage ; I will only say that there is nothing with which curiosity ought to have less to do. There is another temperament which, at first sight, seems favourable to recollectedness, and yet is very adverse to it. It is that of low- spirited persons. Their imagination clings closely to certain objects, frames numberless -chimeras from the recollection of the past, and the ex- pectation of the future ; building a multitude of castles in the air, with all due circumstance of place, person, and situation. These romantic imaginations enable their possessors to live in a state of constant occupation ; they can sit alone in their room, and converse with the whole world. Persons of this disposition like solitude ; they are silent and musing ; they keep their senses under control, or rather, make little use of them, for they take little heed of outward things. They seem to be recollected, but are only pre- occupied ; and such as these find the greatest difficulty in acquiring an habitual sense of God’s presence. 102 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. The practice of ejaculatory prayer is an ex- cellent means for the acquirement of recollect- edness, because it tends to recal us often to ourselves and to God. It is a very good thing to bind one’s self to the custom ; but yet such prayers must not be made a matter of routine. They should rise from the heart rather than the lips, and are best when they consist of a simple turning of the soul towards God, unaccompanied by any words expressed or understood. We cannot take too much pains to acquire this method of prayer. If it becomes daily more frequent, and grows into a habit, it disposes the mind to that prayer which is without ceasing. Whether we are reading, or meditating, or re- peating vocal prayers, it is good to pause from time to time, and let the soul quite suspend its own action to give place to the working of God. If we feel at aU touched by grace at such mo- ments, we cannot do better than give way to it, and quietly enjoy the feelings God gives us ; and when that impression has passed away, we can resume our book or our prayers. These passing touches are a small beginning of infused prayer, to which we ought to correspond very faithfully ; they are momentary visits, wherein God communicates Himself. And, short though they are, they do us more good than any of the thoughts and affections wherein the soul speaks to itself. Why do we read, or pray, except for the purpose of attaining to union with God ? So, when lie comes, and bestows on us a certain secret sense of His presence, we have what we desire. We should therefore yield to this sense as long as it lasts. It would be irreverent to go on with our previous occupation ; by so doing. MAXIM X. 103 we should deprive ourselves of the effect of His visits, and should render them less frequent. S. Francis de Sales strongly recommends this practice to his daughters, and even bids them stop the recital of their office on such occasions. Passive recollection is not a transitory visit from God, but an habitual sense of His presence in the soul. We feel that presence; we cannor entertain any doubt about it ; and its effects are so deep and sweet, as to be plainly due to God alone. The soul is filled and strengthened by an indefinable calm and peace, and suspension of its natural powers, with which no natural plea- sure of any kind is to be compared. These feel- ings are not bestowed on the soul at the time of prayer only, but accompany it in almost every act. Whatever may be our situation, our occupa- tion, or our company, we feel, when we turn our thoughts within, that God is present in our souls as a faithful companion. This is not to be treated as a dreaming fancy by those who never felt anything of the kind, and cannot imagine what it is : those who do so would contradict the doctrine of the Saints and the experience of all interior livers. Nor is it to be feared that this be an illusion of Satan : for that cannot take place respecting this habitual presence of God, with which imagination has nothing to do. The principal effect of this recollectedness is to turn the soul inward, detaching it from external things, and deadening their effect. I do not mean that the soul thus ceases to feel ; this re- collectedness is not ecstasy, depriving it of ordi- nary sensation ; but it does not pause or dwell on what it feels, because it is restrained inwardly 104 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. by a charm more powerful than anything that would attract it from without. By this means God withdraws the soul from communion with creatures, and binds it wholly to Himself, so that it feels itself alone with God, and pays no atten- tion to any other object. This recollectedness is, properly speaking, the entrance of the interior life, and is the surest sign that a soul is in the passive state. It is at first such as may be felt ; because the sense of it is necessary, in order to detach the soul from conversation with created things, and to inspire it with contempt for the pleasure de- rivable from them ; but when this effect is pro- duced, recollectedness leaves the surface of the soul, and sinks deeper. It is no longer felt ; it is only noticed, because for a time we retain the habit of thinking about it ; and at last we cease to perceive it, because, as we advance, we go out of self and enter into God, ami are less taken up with what passes within ourselves. As this habitual presence of God is the founda- tion of all the graces which He afterwards be- stows on the soul, we cannot be too sedulous in preserving it. The love which the soul feels towards God in these early days, leads it to assiduity in prayer and other ' pious exercises, reception of the Sacraments, and practice of bodily mortification ; but in addition to these things, it is necessary to withdraw altogether from created things, and have as little to do with them as possible. As far as may be, it is neces- sary to lay aside most of those good works which would draw the soul to external interests ; for the one thing needful in this state, is an entire yielding of one’s self to the operation of God ; MAXIM X. 105 and this requires retirement, silence, and cessa- tion from business, except such as concerns the duties of one’s position, which takes precedence of all other things. Such good works will subse- quently be resumed, and even multiplied, when God gives the signal for them, and they no longer involve the risk of distracting the mind. Moreover, the senses are now to be allowed no liberty, no curiosity is to be indulged, all idle thoughts are to be cast out of the mind, the heart is to be kept free from all attachment : all things, indeed, are to be put aside which may break or suspend our intercourse with God. Let it not be supposed that this is painful. As long as sensible recollectedness lasts, nothing is difficult: God asks of us what He wills, in a manner so sweet and persuasive, that it is as it were impossible to refuse; we receive so many graces from Him that we feel unable to do enough in return ; in fact, we are in the first fervour of love, and eager to prove to God that we do love Him. So that a person in the state of passive recollectedness, finds those practices very easy, which are difficult to observe in active recollec- tion, and which are apparently and really great sacrifices, on account of their continuity. Hours spent in prayer seem short as minutes : the plea- sures of the world taste insipid; unavoidable conversations become fatiguing ; companionship, formerly delightful, grows uncongenial. Such a person is inclined to refuse satisfaction to the absolute cravings of nature, and yields to them regretfully. What has caused this wonderful change? A faint foretaste of the happiness of heaven. If this is the beginning of the spiritual life, what will be its consummation? 106 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. One word more. You want to be taught con- cerning the things of God ; therefore you con- sult men, and the writings of men ; and you do not apply to Him Who in one moment gives light to the humble soul, teaching it without sound of words, and imparting more in one single contemplation than could be obtained in many years from the most spiritual of men. You weary and worry your mind in order to be recollected in prayer ; and nothing is really necessary for the purpose except a good will, and the use of such measures as shall prepare the soul aright : for it is absurd to try to be recollected at the time of prayer, if the mind is distracted at other moments. You seek to make your prayer, by your own efforts ; God makes it within the soul, so soon as, convinced of our powerlessness, we cease from action on our own part, and yield to His ; He Himself calls us to this cessation, when He intends to act in us. You Avdsh to enjoy peace, and you agitate and distress yourself to obtain it ; you grieve at not feeling it, while you are doing all that is likely to drive it away ; and you do not remember that the God of peace dwelleth neither in agitation nor turmoil, but causes Himself to be felt like the soft breath of zephyr, which is produced by, and which maintains a state of, calm. You seek self while you assume that you seek God ; therefore you find Him not. O ! how astonished some persons would be if they knew how little labour is required for the attainment of simple recollectedness ! But man is jealous of his own powers of action, and loves to attribute all things to himself. God is infinitely more jealous of His, and will have all attri- buted to Him. This is the cause of all mistakes MAXIM X. 107 concerning the interior life, and of the poor success of our attempts. God does nothing in him who fancies himself to be something, and who seeks to owe all to his own labour ; but He acts, well pleased, on a soul which dwells, quietly humble, in His presence, attracting Him by its desires, counting not on its own efforts, awaiting all from His loving kindness. In the moral as in the physical world, God brings all things out of nothing. W'e must humble ourselves, yea, empty ourselves, before Him ; and He will cause us to feel the- effect of His power. ( 108 ) ELEVENTH ]\IAXIM. tbi? ^otJ ai^ a cWlti toit!) its ^^at!)er. “ Wilt thou not from henceforth cry^ My Father^ Thou art the guide of my youth f' XI. OF A CHILDLIKE SPIRIT. It should seem that nothing could be easier or more usual for Christians, than to look on God as their Father, and act simply and trustfully with regard to Him. It is the very spirit of the new covenant, and is that which distinguishes it from the old. A fundamental dogma of our religion is, that God the Father has adopted us in His Son Jesus Christ, and raised us to the supernatural position of His children. This position makes us heirs of God, joint heirs with Christ, and gives us a right to heaven as our country, and the eternal fruition of God as our inheritance. The appellation, child of God, pre- supposes and recals to our minds the chief points of the faith : is the foundation of hope, and the paramount motive of love. Yet nothing is rarer among Christians than these filial feelings towards God : almost all are more inclined to fear than to love Him. They find it exceedingly difficult to practise thorough confidence in Him and unreserved yielding up of self. The thing least known, and least faithfully MAXIM XI. 109 observed in the spiritual life, and most difficult to human nature, is the casting all our care upon Him, in firm faith that nothing can be ordered for us by Him, which shall not work our good, unless we ourselves prevent it. This arises from self-love, which persuades us that our interests are safe only so long as we have them in our own hands. We cannot make up our minds to trust them to God, to look on Him as our Father, and to believe in His love. We think He deals with us as a father, only when He caresses us, sends us sweet things, and gives us all we please to ask. But when, to teach us to love and serve Him for His own sake, without self-interest. He withdraws the comforts of which we have made ill use, refuses what would injure, and offers us what is useful, but what we will not accept ; then we cease to consider Him a father ; we see in Him a harsh pitiless master ; His service is repulsive ; we are perpetually tempted to give it up ; our sj)iritual guides find great difficulty in holding up our steps that they slip not ; and we have much ado to obey them, when they take God’s part against us. And yet so it is, that God never shows Him- self more truly a father, than in the trials He sends us ; crosses are the most precious favours He can bestow on us in this world ; the more He lays on those who have given themselves to Him, the more He shows His love towards them. Was not Christ His beloved Son, in Whom He was well pleased ? How did He deal with Him through- out His human life? Was He less His Father, when He gave Him up into the hands of wich:ed men, when He seemed to forsake Him on the Cross, and suffered Him to die in torture and in no SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. shame ? Surely not : and it may truly be said, that if Calvary was the scene of Christ’s love for His Father, it was also the place where the Father’s love for His Son was the most clearly proved. Judge by the consequences. Certainly all the glory, and power, and blessing which our Lord possesses, as man, He owes to His Cross. “ Ought not Christ,” saith He, “to have suffered these things, and to have entered into His glory ?” His Father required that temporary proof of obe- dience at His hands, that in His turn He might give Him an eternal proof of His magnificence in rewarding it. Consider the education of a child. While weak and tender, he is nursed, carried about from place to place, petted, indulged, and soothed. But when he grows bigger, he is placed under rule ; he is obliged to do things which are un- pleasant, and of which he does not as yet see the use ; he is broken in to obedience, and habituated to conquer his desire, and follow the guidance of reason ; when necessary, he is treated severely, threatened, and chastised. Why? but in order to draw out his powers, make a man of him, and prepare a useful and happy life for him in the future. God acts in the same manner towards His children. He intends them for citizens of the heavenly Jerusalem. When they begin to give themselves up to Him, He makes the greatest allowances for their weakness. He lavishes sweet- ness and comfort upon them, in order to win their hearts ; He makes all things easy to them ; He puts temptation away ; He pleases them, and, as it were, makes Himself a child with them. But when they grow stronger, and are capable of MAXIM XI. Ill receiving soli