' w - MEDITATIONS AND CONFERENCES FOR A RETREAT OF TEN DAYS, SALES AND ST. JANE DE CiIaNT^. ACCORDING TO THE SPIRIT OF STJ FRANCIS^ J$.yj FROM THE FRENCH OF AEBE PU$UESNE, WITH AN APPENDIX, CONTAINING SUPPLEMENTARY MEDITA- TIONS, THE RETREAT OF ST. JANE FRANCES DE CHANT AL, AND SELECTIONS FROM HER CONFERENCES. Translated by the Sisters of the Visitation. WITH THE APPROVAL OF RIGHT REV. C. E. McDONNELL, D.D., Bishop of Brooklyn. PRESS OF THE MISSION OF THE IMMACULATE VIRGIN. Mount Loretto, Stateu Island, N. Y. ■HonMWjrf the Visitation, A— ^:; Tas Library of Congress washington 3> NIHIL OB STAT, Rev. D. J. McMahon, D.D. Imprimatur : f Michael Augustine, Archbishop of New York K TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE Preface, vii Plan of the Work, ... . . . . . . ix Approbation, . . xi Directory of Spiritual Exercises, xiii RETREAT OF TEN DATS. First Meditation : For the Eve of the Retreat, ... 1 FIRST DAY. First Meditation: On Creation, 4 Second " On the End of Man, . . . ' . 7 Third " On the End of a Christian, . . 11 Conference : On the End of the Religious State, . . 14 SECOND DAY. First Meditation: On Mortal Sin, . . . . 19 Second " On Yenial Sin, .... 25 Third " On Abuse of Grace, . . . . 31 Conference : On Religious Vigilance, 38 THIRD DAY. First Meditation: On Death, 45 Second " On the Last Judgment, ... 52 Third " On Hell, 59 Conference: On the Vow of Chastity, .... 66 FOURTH DAY. First Meditation : On the Happiness of Heaven, . . 74 Second " On the Imitation of Jesus Christ, . 81 Third " On the Imitation of Our Holy Found- ers, . . . , . . .89 Conference : On the Vow of Poverty, . ' . . . 95 FIFTH DAY. First Meditation : On Mortification, .... 103 Second " On Crosses and Pains of Mind, . . 110 Third " On Abandonment to Divine Providence 118 Conference: On the Vow of Obedience, .... 127 IV CONTENTS. PAGE SIXTH DAY. First Meditation : On the Knowledge of Jesus Christ, . 136 Second '■ On the Love of Jesus Christ, . . 145 Third " On Union with Jesus Christ, . .154 Conference: On Prayer, 163 SEVENTH DAY. First Meditation: On the Divine Office, . . . .171 Second " On the Interior Life, . . . .181 Third " On Silence, 188 Conference: On Exactitude in the Observances, . . 195 EIGHTH DAY. First Meditation : On Humility of Heart, . . . 204 Second " On Meekness of Spirit, . . . 214 Third " On Mutual Love, . . . .221 Conference: On Aversions and Particular Friendships, . 228' NINTH DAY. First Meditation : On the Grace of the Eeligious Voca- tion, 236 Second " On the Advantages of the Religious Life, . . . . . .243 Third " On the Engagements of the Eeligious Life, 251 Conference : On the Spirit of the Visitation in Particu- lar, 259 TENTH DAY. First Meditation: On Perseverance, .... 266 Second " On the Reception of the Sacraments, 275 Third " On Devotion to the Blessed Virgin, . 284 Conference: On Religious Perfection 7 , .... 292 Supplementary Meditations : — God our End, . . . . . . .305 Shortness of Time 308 On the Price of Grace, 310 On Eternity 313 On the Blessed Eucharist, .316 Oblation of our Lord Jesus Christ, .... 319 On the Sacred Heart of Jesus, 323 Jesus in the Sepulchre, 328 Baptismal Promises, .• 331 We Must Live as Pilgrims, 335 On Avoiding all Relapses into our Former Faults, . 338 CONTENTS. PAGE Letter of St. Jane Frances de Chantal, to Mother de Chatel on Ketreats, 345 Letter of St. Jane Frances de Chantal to the Sisters of the Visitation on Retreats, 347 Retreat of St. Jane Frances de Chantal: — A Preface, 348 I. Meditation : On Creation, 353 II. " . On the End for which we are created, 354 III. " • On Benefits, 356 IV. " On Sin, .358 V. " On Death, 360 VI. " On Judgment, . . . .362 VII. " On Hell, 364 VIII. " On Paradise 366 IX. " On Religious Poverty, . . .368 X. " On Obedience, . . . .370 XL " On Chastity, . . . . .372 XII. " On Knowing Our Misery and Weakness, . . . . 374 XIII. " On the Submission shown by our Saviour, .... 376 XIV. " On the Grace of being Daughters of Holy Church, . . . .378 XV. " On the Benefit of the Religious Vo- " cation, 380 XVI. " The Religious Life obliges us to follow our Saviour, . . . 382 XVII. " On the Principal Lessons our Saviour teaches the Religious, . 384 XVIII. " On the Means by which the Religious wins the Heart of her Beloved, . 386 XIX. " On the Love of our Neighbor, . 388 XX. " On the Garden of Olives, . . 390 XXL " On the Love of our Saviour in Suffering, . . . ..392 XXII. " On our Saviour on the Cross, . . 394 XXIII. " On the first Five Words of Jesus on the Cross, . . . .396 XXIV. " On the Blessed Virgin at the Foot of the Cross 398 XXV. " On the Death of our Saviour on the Cross, ..... 400 XXVI. The Joy and Happiness of the Soul is in the Cross, . . . 402 XXVII. " On Our Saviour's Resurrection, . 404 XXVIII. " On the Ascension of Our Lord, . 406 XXIX. " On the Descent of the Holy Ghost, . 408 XXX. " On the Presence of God, . . 410 XXXI. " On the Providence of God, . . 412 XXXII. " On the Will of God, . . .414 H CONTEXTS. PAGE XXXIII. Meditation : On Privations ; Conclusion of the Retreat 416 SELECTIONS FROM THE CONFERENCES OF ST. JANE FRANCES DE CHANTAL. LI. Conference : On Retreat and the Annual Confession, . . . .421 LIII. " On the Principal Fruit of the Retreat, .... 423 LXII. On the Necessity of Exterior and Interior Renunciation, . 425 III. " On the Qualities of True Zeal, Foundations of Solid Virtue, . 428 XL. " On the Spirit of Humility, . 434 XVII. " On Humility and Solid Virtue, . 436 VIII. " .On Self -Love and the Damage it does the Soul, . . .441. XXXIII. " On Prayer and Mortification, . 444 LII. " On Fidelity in Accomplishing the Resolutions of Retreat, . 448 XLI. " On Abandonment to Provi- dence, 451 Examination of Conscience by St. Jane Frances de Chantal, 457 Act for the Renovation of Vows, 466 Arrangement for a Retreat of Eight Days, . . . 470 " Three Days. , . .473 PREFACE. Every virtue has more or less attraction and power over our hearts according to the character and dispositions which govern us ; but humility and meekness have charms which no one can resist. The union of these two virtues so perfectly characterizes St. Francis de Sales, that it is impossible not to honor him, under these distinctive traits. The meekness of his spirit and the humility of his heart, so opposed to the manners of our age, must, however, make greater among us, the veneration and love which was given him during life. Always, and justly appre- ciated by the greatest minds of that time, why has not this great saint, as dear to God as to men, been more imitated? This precious model is worthily retraced in the Order to which he has left his spirit as an inheritance. A spirit of humility which does not overcome by menaces, which does not invoke the fire of heavenly vengeance, as that of Elias, but which, like that of Jesus Christ, attracts by its influence, animates by promises, vivifies by consolations ; a spirit which, although one of meekness, does not form weak souls, but souls strong and generous in combat, because the weapons they use are the arrows of divine love. It is to you, O cherished daughters of this tender Father, whom heaven has given you in mercy, to you, O beloved Vlll PREFACE. children of a Mother, who, formed by the amiable lessons of this great master of the spiritual life, was the most perfect model of the virtues of your state, I dedicate this little work ; not to instruct you in the sublime lessons of perfection which both have given you ; but to animate you more and more in the love, zeal and fidelity, which you owe to the holy Rules, which the spirit of God has dictated to you through their ministry; Rules full of wisdom, which the Holy See has recognized in the approbation it has given them, wherein all appears easy because all is smoothed by love and yet in which all leads to the highest perfection. Happy if, by these reflections, drawn from the writings of your holy founders, and which are as their spirit, I can assist you to reanimate yourselves in the way of salvation, and to become the glory and crown of him, who has traced out for you the road to sanctity, and of her, who has directed your first steps by walking with you in the path of the Just. May you by the faithful practice of these Meditations and Conferences, in which there is nothing new to you, where all is fitted to the state and refers to the Institute which you have chosen, may you be always the good odor of Jesus Christ and the ornament of His Church. Tf I succeed in my purpose, to God alone be the glory forever and ever. Amen. PLAN OF THE WORK. The Author of these Meditations having proposed to give, especially to the Religious of the Visitation of Holy Mary, a sort of treatise on the duties of their state, according to the spirit of their Institute, has thought he could not make use of a form more suitable, and more interesting for them, than that of a Retreat, for the reason that it is more particularly in those days which serve as a preparation for the renovation of their vows, that retired apart, they occupy themselves in learning, and scrutinizing, and strengthening themselves therein the way of sanctity. To assist and sustain their fervor in these days of solitude, light and grace, the author has thought he should speak less to the mind than to the heart. With this view he has applied himself in the first point of the Meditation to instruct ; and in the second to lead the soul to entertain herself with herself or with God, on the faults she recognizes in herself after the instruction received ; on the means of repairing these faults, and on the resolutions conformed to her needs, that she ought to take. He might have proposed (and certainly it would have been easier) to give only simple subjects of Meditation ; but considerations of this kind to which many authors ± PLAIT OF TEE WORK. limit themselves, being too unconnected, and little fitted to convince the mind or touch the heart, would not have fulfilled his project. Besides, persuaded as he is, by his own experience, that it is not enough to make a profession of piety to learn the art of meditating, he has given meditations already made. Perhaps they will be found a little long. But sentiments and tastes differ ; that which makes an impression on one heart, does not equally affect others. He, therefore, deter- mined to give to each subject a sufficient extent in a connec- ted and uninterrupted manner. Moreover, holy souls may content themselves with one point, even with one reflection with which to occupy themselves usefully during the time of prayer. If they judge proper, they may use for spiritual reading (besides the Conferences given for this pur- pose) all that they may not have used for their meditation or prayer. Although this Retreat belongs particularly to the Re- ligious of the Visitation, it is suitable, not only for all other religious persons, but also for all souls who, although in the world are not of the world, and who aspire to a greater perfection. J This work being divided into forty Meditations or Conferences m*ay serve for reading during the forty days of Lent. OKIGINAL APPKOBATION. I have read, by order of the Chancellor, a Manuscript entitled: "Spiritual Retreat or familiar Conferences, according to the Spirit of St. Francis of Sales/' and I have found nothing in this pious work, composed princi- pally for the Sisters of the Visitation, contrary to faith and morals. On the contrary, all therein breathes the spirit of the holy Founder, witn which tnese virtuous souls are animated. The Sorbonne, the 18th of December, 1771. Adhent. DIRECTORY OF THE SPIRITUAL EXERCISES TEN DAYS OF RETREAT, TAKEN FROM THE SOLITUDE OF ST. FRANCIS OF SALES. To be Read on the First Day. The first day of Retreat should be employed in with- drawing the mind from created things, tranquillizing it, in becoming more solitary interiorly than exteriorly and in opening the heart to God alone. Those who follow these exercises will, each evening before retiring, read over the meditation for the morrow, dwelling upon the point that touches them most. They may, if they wish, make use of it all day, or each time take a consideration and affection from the Meditations. Those who wish to follow what is marked in the Custom-Book not only may, but ought to do so with sim- plicity, with the advice of the Superioress ; but in this case I believe that these Meditations, and those of our Blessed Father on the same subject, may be useful for reading. The day of confession, they will make only the ordi- nary meditations, and then occupy themselves in pre- paring for confession. It will also be well to make the usual reading on the subject of the meditation, making XIV DIRECTORY OF THE SPIRITUAL EXERCISES. the confession concisely, so as to take as short a time as possible ; for it is not only for confession that these reviews are made, but to discover the state of our soul ; and, what is more important, to make it known to those who direct us on the part of God. Especially should we find out the principal motives, passions, and impulses which have caused our failings, proposing to ourselves, the remedies we think most proper for our amendment. If we wish the Retreat to be profitable, it is then, princi- pally, that we must practise holy simplicity in opening our hearts as our holy rules mark, and be faithful in following the advice given us. We must also observe if we have advanced or not, since our last Retreat, and how we have kept our resolutions. The other days, after the morning meditation, we must occupy our minds with it while doing our work, or, if we experience difficulty in this, read from time to time some suitable subject so as to avoid distractions. Afterwards, we will say our Office at the same time as the community, being attentive to it, as well as to the subject of prayer. We will also hear holy Mass with attention. After the meditation that follows, we will make a little review, in form of examination upon what we have done during the morning, dwelling more upon the/exercises than upon our faults. It will also be well to perform more mortifications than usual in the refectory, being also attentive to the reading which, if possible, we will refer to the subject of meditation. We should never divert our minds from this, lest the devil play us a trick and make us lose our time under the guise of holy thoughts. If several spend the recreation together, it must be made profitable and devout, by conversing and cor- dially sharing good thoughts, views, and lights. We DIRECTOR^ OF THE SPIRITUAL EXERCISES. XV cannot imagine how useful this exercise is when well performed. It will be well to begin the time of silence by recalling some of the sweet, gentle, and loving thoughts of the morning meditation, rejoicing to return to more intimate communication with our divine Saviour, regretting what- ever has turned our hearts from this holy exercise. If we have any difficulty in turning our minds to these holy thoughts, we may read some suitable pious book. We may also do this from time to time when dry or dis- tracted, for it is most profitable to keep from our minds, during this holy time, any thought not conformable to our meditations. We especially advise that the reading on the first days should be made on the points of humility. This reading may be made with the community, although we may read at any time. Perhaps, we may find it more convenient to prepare during reading time the meditation to be made before Vespers, this being left free. Vespers will be said with the community, and we will employ the conference time in reading some points of the rule and directory, especially in what concerns our employment, recalling the faults we have committed and their motives, the means and resolutions of amend- ment ; considering what we must do to overcome each fault in particular and to practise the contrary virtue. We will say Complin at the time marked, and read the point of prayer to be made afterwards ; then take a little relaxation for a quarter of an hour, saying the beads. The exercises of the refectory and recreation will follow. Between the recreation and eight o'clock, or when we retire, or the next day, we may take notes on what we have remarked, for generally the review is made when we go to the choir at eight o'clock, and we must be very exact Xvi DIRECTORY OF THE SPIRITUAL EXERCISES. in order to impress upon our minds all that has passed during the day. When we have free time we may make meditations or say our beads until the bell for the obedience, after which we read the meditation for the next morning, in order to reflect upon it and fix it in our minds during the quarter before Matins. We may also in our cells or elsewhere perform some mortifications besides those that are customary in the re- fectory, as saying an Our Father with the arms extended, kissing the floor, prostrating, wearing the cincture, taking the discipline, and similar penances. Holy Communion should also be more frequent after the three days employ- ed in preparation for confession. It is to be observed that this directory is by no means obligatory, it is only to serve as a foundation and rule for those not yet accustomed to retreats, or those who are tried by aridity, obscurity, and wandering of mind, as well as for those who feel inclined to follow it. However, it would be well to express simply to the Superioress our desire on the subject, in order that holy liberty may not hinder holy obedience, nor holy obedience interfere with holy liberty. On the day of preparation for confession we should first read the examination of conscience, given at the end of the exercises. It is advisable/ to think of it only on the day when the meditation on sin is made. MEDITATION FOR THE EVE OF RETREAT. First Point. "I will lead her into solitude and there I will speak to her heart." Osee ii., 14. How consoling is this promise ! It is a God who makes it to me for the happiness of my soul. Behold, says He, days of salvation, in which I will take you aside, and shed upon you a ray of the light which surrounds Me, to enable you to see the wounds of your soul, and to discover the principal ones and their depth. Come, there- fore, and follow Me into the desert ; there I will make known to you, your miseries, and I will give you the grace to apply the necessary remedies, how painful and repugnant soever, they may be to nature. Put yourself in a state to hear My voice, and to profit by My assistance, by separating yourself from every sensible object. Perhaps it is the last time that My mercy will invite you to meditate upon the terrible effects of My justice on those whom I have called to a greater perfec- tion, and who have not corresponded to My designs. Rise then, from the dust, and break the chains which hold you captive. It is time to quit a state in which I can no longer recognize you. You cannot rise of yourself, but again I offer you the power of My Arm, which you have so often experienced, to draw you from the atryss into which you have fallen. Do not render this retreat useless for you. My designs, in your favor, will be accom- plished, if you second my views. Behold the epoch of your perfect conversion ; the time when I wish you to return* to Me in a solid and unchangeable manner. Profit then by these movements 2 EVE OF THE RETREAT. of grace. Remember your first entrance into religion ., what fervor in your prayers ! What generosity in your mortifications ! What fidelity in your spiritual exercises ! what dependance ! what abnegation ! what purity of intention ! How you have fallen from that first state ! How you have plunged into the most shameful servitude ! You who were destined to fill one of the highest places in heaven. Ah ! break the bonds of flesh and blood which attach you to perishable things, which you have so solemnly renounced. You were created to enjoy the holy liberty of My children, and not to grovel in the servitude of the animal spirit. Break down then, that fatal wall which separates you from Me. Change your manner of life. Shed over 30111' infidelities torrents of tears ; no longer place obstacles to My graces ; render yourself worthy of Me, for I am still willing to love } 7 ou, to live in you. The aurora begins to appear; behold, the day approaches ; walk by its light, whilst My mercy offers it to you. New r Jays on your part may cause a dread- ful darkness to succeed these rays of My light' which now shine upon you. Not to profit by the treasure I offer you may be, perhaps, to destroy forever the efficacious resources which I now provide for your conversion. Appreciate their value, and profit by them, for the reformation of your conduct. Offer to Me upon the altar of penance, the double holocaust of your mind and your heart, to avenge My glory, for your past infidelities, and to be restored to the rights of My faithful children. Second Point. Behold me, O my God ! ready to do Thy divine Will I only deserve that thou shouldst abandon me, after so much abuse of Thy graces, so much resistance to Thy inspirations ; but Thou art a Father full of kindness, Who wiliest not the death of a sinner, but that he be converted and live. Thy voice resounds in the bottom of my heart, and 1 will be perfectly docile and faithful to it, in this retreat. Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth. My heart is ready, O God, my'heart is ready. I will no longer place obstacles to Thy mercy, whose treasures are opened EVE OF THE RETREAT. 3 to me I throw myself into the arms of Thy paternal goodness, and I will pass over in the bitterness of my heart, all the years of my life. I will espouse the inter- ests of Thy justice against myself, and represent to my mind, the great day of Thy vengeance, or rather that profound night which will be followed by no more day, when a rain of fire and sulphur, accompanied by thunder and lightning will consume the universe; when in the midst of the smoking remains of the destroyed world, nothing shall be heard but these dreadful words : u Arise ye dead, and come to judgment." I will prevent the rigors of that degree against me, by imposing on myself, the most severe penance for so many prevarications in my exercises of piety, in the observance of my rules ; for so many confessions, which, when I consider the little regret I had for my faults and my little amend- ment, I have cause to fear were useless ; for the many retreats, by which I have profited so little, and which not making me more perfect, have rendered me more culpable. I will now take the surest means, the most efficacious measures, to guard against the depravity of my heart. I will learn to conform my whole conduct to the sanctitj- of my profession. In a word, I will renew myself in the spirit of my holy vocation, in order to become, as St. Paul says, " a new creature in Jesus Christ," or as says St. Gregory Nazianzen, "another Jesus Christ." Ah ! Lord too many and too powerful motives lead me to acknowledge here, the favorable traits of Thy mercy on my soul, which merited only the blows of Thy venge- ance. I will then, with the help of Thy grace, make all the effort I can, to occupy myself in this retreat, and forever, with Thee and my salvation, alone. I will con- sider myself as alone in this world with Thee ; my whole self and all within me shall be in solitude ; my mind, my senses, my. heart, my soul, my body. Nothing human even in my thoughts, forgetfulness of all ; silence and custody- of the senses, entire and perfect recollection ; such is the law 1 impose on myself, and which I will faith- fully follow during these days of retreat. In calm all becomes sensible and my soul is desirous of experiencing, 4 ON CREATION. of feeling even the lightest breath of Thy grace. Such are my dispositions, my God ! But what can I do without Thee? To Thee alone it belongs to dissipate my darkness by the splendor of Thy divine light. Deign to grant me this favor, my needs solicit it and Thy glory requires it. Teach me to know Thee and to know myself. Whilst enlightening me, pour into my heart Thy unction and love, which alone can work its salvation ; take possession of it that, it may receive only the impres- sions of Thy grace ; dispel its ignorance, strengthen its weakness, awaken its affections, grant that it may know itself, be reformed and reanimated. Kindle within it that fire, which Thou earnest on earth to bring. FIRST DAY. FIRST MEDITATION. — ON CREATION. First Point. " Thy hands have made me. . . . Thou has granted me life and mercy, and Thy visitation hath preserved my spirit." Job x., 8. 12. God, concentrated in Himself from all eternity, suffi- cient for Himself, finding in Himself His temple and abode, infinitely happy in the possession of Himself, executed in time, through the sole motive of His love, the design which He had formed from all eternity, of creating the world, of producing all creatures, and of drawing us from nothingness, to communicate to us a participation of His being. Oh gratuitous, eternal, and infinite love of God, Who, after being occupied with me, during all eternity, gave me existence in time ; Who chose me from among the infinity of possible creatures, which He left in nothingness at the same time that He gave me being ; a being so excellent, that His own image is impressed upon it. He is a pure spirit, eternal, intelligent, sovereign, free, independent, loving Himself necessarily, and loving all His creatures freely ; He has given me a spiritual soul, ON CREATION. immortal, reasonable, capable of a will that bears the stamp of the divine sovereignity, and which, rendering it incapable of constraint, makes it mistress of its actions. But to impress in me humility, and to oblige me to prac- tise so necessary a virtue ; to humble me in the midst of my greatness, He has united in my person, a body of clay and a soul all spiritual. He has joined in me, time and eternity, immortality and death ; He has rendered me capable, on the one hand, of contemplating the immutable and eternal truth with the angels, and on the other of enjoying the pleasures of the senses, with the beasts ; near to God, by the spirituality of my soul, near to nothing- ness, by the corruption of my heart. This God infinitely good and magnificent in His works, did not limit His gifts to this being of nature ; He gave me a second being, which is the being of grace, infinitely more noble, and more excellent than the first, since it is a supernatural participation of His being, which has made me become His own image and likeness, in as much as He has communicated to my soul, faith, hope, charity, virtues, divine beauties, perfections, knowledge, affections and operations in some sort like His own. These precious gifts seemed to demand one not less essential, viz. — preserva- tion. In vain would God have created me, if His hand, which gave me a being, did not preserve it to me ; that is to say, if He did not create it continually, and did not draw it every moment, from the nothingness into which it would fall again. This continued creation renders me indebted to God for a new benefit, not less than the first, which gave me being. How many favors, and what should be my gratitude ! Second, Point. I adore, O my God! the infinite Power, which, with one word, drew the universe from nothingness. I adore Thy wisdom which has done all with weight and measure, and which is shown in all Thy works. But above all, I thank and adore Thee for having given me a being, the foundation of every other benefit to me, and that, in pre- ference to so manv others, that have remained in nothing- 6 ON CREATION: ness. What can I say to show 1113' gratitude? Return into my nothingness, humble myself under Thy almighty hand which has drawn me from it, acknowledge that there is an infinite distance between Thee, Who possessest the plenitude of being, and me, who have only a participation of that being. I must make Thee, O Lord, a continual sacrifice of a life, which I have received only to consecrate to Thy service. In fine, I must take for my portion the nothingness which is my origin. Dust and ashes, why should I glory in myself ? What can I attribute to myself who am formed of the dust which is daily trampled under foot? Nothingness being nothing has nothing and can do nothing. Ah i how many errors are dissipated by medi- tating upon this nothingness. " Search the depths of your nature," says St. Francis of Sales, " and see if you can find food for your vanity." Shall I be so foolish as to exalt myself for the gifts I possess, since I owe them to the pure liberality of my God? O Eternal Father, Who didst create that which was not, that no man might glory in himself, penetrate me incessantly with my notninguess ; make my heart feel this conviction, not by abandoning me, as I have so often deserved on account of my pride, but by making me acknowledge Thee as author, centre, and principle of my existence. Thou couldst not give me a soul so noble, so excellent, but to serve and love Thee ; it is then just that I use it conformably to the designs of Thy wisdom and goodness ; that I emplo} 7 its operations to know and adore Thee, to love and thank Thee, to pre- serve and perfect in myself theAmage of Thy being and perfection. The Apostle, St. Paul, teaches us that we carry the treasures of grace in earthen vessels ; I shall fear then in possessing Thy grace, because a single motion of my heart is sufficient to make me lose it. I shall fear when I have lost it, been use I do not know if I can recover it ; I shall fear after having recovered it, because I shall become more guilty if I lose it again, I acknowledge, O my God, that nothingness is my origin not my principle, because it could not communicate to me a being which it had not; all comes to me from Thy liberal goodness, all in me is an effect of Thy power, a gift of Thy mercy ; ON THE END OF MAN * Thy divine breath has given me life, and if it did not con- tinually work in me, I would be without intelligence, without grace, without existence ; I would cease to act if Thou didst cease to concur with me ; Thou drawest me from nothingness as many times as Thou preventest me from relapsing into it. How these truths confound and humble me, for what use have I hitherto made of all Thy gifts? I have only made them serve my infidelities. The being which I received only to consecrate to Thee has served but to offend and outrage Thee. Yes, I have dis- honored Him, by Whom and for Whom, 1 was made, Him, Who alone acts in me, Whose divinity surrounds me, by His presents, power, and essence. Nothingness clothed with benefits, I have used them against my Benefactor. I have lived as though I could dispose of my being and life. I have dared to irritate my God, Who could at any moment cast me into hell, or let me fall into that nothingness from which He drew me. Pardon me, my God. grace and mercy ! I return to Thee, do not reject me ; I am the work of Thy hands, a disfigured work it is true, but give me a new form, that 1 may, according to the design of creation, seek and attach myself but to Thee for time and eternity. FIRST DAY. SECOND MEDITATION. — ON THE END OF MAN. First Point. " Fear God and keep His commandments; for this is all man." Ecclesiastes xii., 13. To fear and serve the Lord is the abridgment of the life of man, who should wish only to fulfil the end for which he was created. He has received from God life, motion, and being ; and he owes Him the homage of it all. Independent as this supreme God is, He would have a worship. Being the principle of His own being, He will also be the centre of all our movements, and the term of all our desires. As He has done nothing but for Himself, 8 ON THE END OF MAN. the end of man is necessarily the possession of His glory. It is for this glory He has created us, as He, Himself, says, and He could not give us any other end. He could draw us from nothingness, or leave us in it ; He could advance or retard our creation ; but supposing that He created us, He could create us only for Himself. Why is this? It is because He can only act for an end suitable to His goodness, and in giving us any other end than Himself, He would have created us to be unhappy, there being no true happiness but in Him alone. God, all-powerful as He is, could not give us any other destination than Himself ; but if He could have done it, if He had done it, should we not wish to be only for Him, since He alone is eternal and infinitely perfect; since all is in Him, and nothing out of Him, or without Him? All that is not God, reduces our heart to indigence and over- whelms it, as it were, with its own weight. "Oh Lord," exclaims St. Augustine, "Thou hast created us for Thy- self, and our heart will always be agitated until it reposes in Thee." " Thou hast imprinted in our soul," says St. Francis of Sales, " a secret inclination which draws us to Thee, and which makes us feel unhappy when we are not with Thee. All that is less than Thee, may indeed occupy a soul which Thou hast made capable of possessing Thee, but it is impossible to fill it." What a glory, what a happiness for us, that God should make us feel, that He alone can make us happy ; that all that is not God, is an evil ; that it is hating ourselves not to love Him alone ; that we can find no true pleasure but in the possession of His being, and in the en joy mint of His love ; that all affection which is not for Him is lost ; that every division of our heart is as fatal to us, as injurious to Him ; that, finally, our interests are connected with His, and that His glory alone can produce our felicity. Man, loving this glory, seeks it ardently where it is not, because he seeks it out of God. He wishes .to procure himself a name among men, mortal like himself, he wishes to be respected, feared, and obeyed ; behold the illusion of his self-love ; an illusion which is soon dissipated in a soul that is atten- tive to meditate upon its first beginning and its last end. Faith discovers to it so much nobleness in the one, so ON THE END OF MAN. 9 much glory in the other, that it has a sovereign contempt for all that is not God. Pompous titles, earthly posses- sions, the pleasures of the senses incapable of filling the vast extent of its desires, excite its disgust. It despises those chimeras of greatness, those futile advantages, which are nothing but real meanness to a soul who comes from God, and who, destined to re-unite itself to Him in time and eternity, should content itself with Him alone. My end, the soul says to itself, is God alone ; what can I desire out of Him ? What is more worthy of my whole heart? Where can I find a more tender Father, a more faithful friend? Ah ! if He had onty permitted me to be occupied with Him at certain times, as being unworthy of so sublime an occupation, would I not have considered those limited moments as a precious benefit? Why, then, having the happiness of being able to think incessantly of this divine object, and of being united to Him continually, as to the centre of my felicity, should I neglect this advan- tage? No, I wlil never substitute a false happiness for the only true one ; I will consult better my own interests and without ever deliberating, I will incessantly refer to Thee, O Lord, all that I am ; I will breathe, think, act, and speak only for Thee ; in a word, I will occupy myself only with Thee, in time, that I may one day bless Thee in Thy glory for all eternity. Second Point. God is my end, consequently my end is that of God Him- self ; could there be a more noble and excellent one? This God, from all eternity, knows Himself , loves Himself, forms designs for His own glory, and executes them. Thus, He has created me to His image and likeness, for the same end ; He has given me a mind, capable of intelli- gence, that I may know Him, a free will and heart that I may love Him, a body and faculties that I may glorify Him. In virtue of my creation, I have an end as sublime as God Himself, since He is Himself His only end, and will forever be mine. Know thy dignity, my soul, not to take pride in it, but to render to thy first being, who is to be thy centre and thy term, the just tribute of thy homage. » 10 OUT THE END OF If AN. Cease to undervalue, and to degrade in thee, the honor thou hast of having been made for God, and for God alone. In forgetting thyself, thou hast not known thyself, and thou hast become, not only like unto the beasts, but of a worse condition than they ; since, although, deprived of reason, they act conformably to their end. Even the most insensible beings never deviate from their end. The riverlet flows incessantly towards the sea, which is its source ; the stone tends perpetually towards the earth, which is its centre ; the fire never ceases to ascend towards heaven, which is its sphere ; the planets, the light, the seas, and the earth, all things obey His voice, and shall I alone, deviate from it? Divine Lord, eternal Wisdom, through Whom and for Whom I am formed, enable me to return to the ways of order and justice from which I have strayed. Reform in me the work of Thy hands which I have disfigured, and restore it to its pristine beauty. Let creatures and events, far from distracting me from Thee, who art my beginning and my end, enter into my esteem, excite my desires, and occupy my heart only inasmuch as they may bring me nearer and unite me to Thee. Undeceive me as to all that might share my desires, or enslave my inclinations. Thou alone, O God of my heart, fix all my desires ; be the centre of all my intentions, the term of all m} T affec- tions, O Lord, in the happy obligation under which I am of serving Thee, as a law from which I cannot dispense myself. Oh happy necessity ! that constrains me, either to glorify Thee voluntarily in this world, by a holy and Christian life, or to glorify Thee eternally, in spite of nryself, in hell : either to repair Thy gloiy by my conversion, or to repair it by my reprobation ; either to exalt Thy mercy b}' my penance or to exalt Thy justice by eternal tears. I no longer deliberate. I will reform my conduct ; I will seek no satisfaction but in Thee ; I will give to my affections no other end. I will have no desire but to possess Thee, no fear but to lose Thee. I am in this world only to love Thee and to serve Thee : I will begin from this day to fulfil a duty so essential and so indispensable. I will return Thee love for love, attention for attention, and since, from eternity, Thou hast thought of me and ON THE END OF A C II I? r ST I AN 11 booorest Thy vile creature so far as to wish her for Thyself alone, so far as to be jealous of her desires and affections, of her whole heart, I will not cease to glorify Thee by my conduct ; to refer every action to Thee, to concentrate nryself in Thee, and to live and die only for Thee, Who on earth, as in heaven, can alone promote my good, my eternal felicity. FIRST DAY. THIRD MEDITATION. OX THE END OF A CHRISTIAN. First Point. "The Lord thy God shalt thou adore, and Him only shalt thou serve." Matth. iv., 10. Such is the law which God engraved upon my soul at the very moment He created me. In the first instant of my birth, He sealed me, as it were, with His seal, and consecrated me to His glory ; but this indispensable obligation of serving Him alone has increased with my age, and has become as essential as my existence. This necessary obligation, which I contracted at my birth, became voluntary by the sacred engagements I formed by the mouth of my sponsors at baptism, and which I afterwards freely ratified. Since that happy moment, which consecrated me forever to the Supreme Being when I vowed to adore and serve Him, I belong to Him, and He has a right to say to me, as He said to Jacob and Israel ; — "You are mine." Consequently He ought to be the soul of all my thoughts, the motive of all my actions, the object of all my homages, the centre of all my desires, the term of all my steps, and the rule of all my couduct. "You are mine." — Yes, Lord, and I should have Thee always present before my eyes, always imprinted in my mind, always engraved in my heart ; I should prefer Thee to everything, and sacrifice everything for Thee, dearest Lord. Being the principle of m} r actions, it is just that 12 ON THE END OF A CHRISTIAN. Thou shouldst be the end of them ; Thou hast produced them by Thy love, they should be sacrificed to Thy glory ; I should act only according to Thy will and never resist Thy hand, which always works good in my soul, which often turns away the evil it sometimes permits but never wills. Thou shouldst not only be the end of all my actions as the principle of my existence, as the Sovereign Being Who dost possess its plentitude, as the first begin- ning of all the movements of my heart, and of that liberty even with which Thou hast formed them ; but as Head of the Church of which, through the choice of Thy predilec- tion, Thou hast made me a member b} T holy Baptism. By all these titles all my actions, even the most indifferent, should be for Thee alone. How holy and perfeet would be the conduct of a soul penetrated and incessantly occupied with these truths, which form the elements of our religion ! How elevated they are above the thoughts of the children of men, who living in the forgetfulness of God, are guilty at least of a criminal inaction ! "They have turned aside from their end," says the prophet, and therefore have become useless. Then, all that 1 have done in my life for any other end than God, has been of no merit for me; even if I had performed miracles, God not having been the end of them, it would all be only vanity, and vanity of vanities. Overwhelming reflection. Second Point. I am confounded, when I con/pare my conduct with my duties. Made for God alone, I have given myself up to exterior things and sensible objects. How much time, therefore, have I lost ! What a frightful void in my life ! How many graces I have wasted ! How often have I abused the merits of Jesus Christ ! How few merits I have acquired before God, and how many talents I have buried ! In a word, how little I have lived, since I have lived so little for my last end, since I have reflected so seldom upon the reason of my existence, have corre- sponded so badly to the designs of God's mercy upon my soul ! Ah ! I have most frequently acted without reflection ON THE END OF A CHRISTIAN 13 and without principle ; therefore, instead of the care, fidelity, and zeal, ardor, and generous sentiments which I should have shown in the service of God, I have evinced, only baseness, negligence, tepidity, infidelity, languor, and insensibility, inutility and iniquity. Behold the history of my life. I blush at my conduct, O my God, and desire to reform it. Henceforth, I will use exterior objects, only as means to go to Thee, instead of reposing in them as my centre. I will no longer seek the creature but in Thee, or rather, I will ask myself in all my actions or projects, what relation they have to Thee and to eternity. In all things I will only act according to Thee, O Lord ; I will no longer see, hear, or do anything, either agreeable or disagreeable, but with a view of uniting myself to Thee. Thy spirit shall actuate and animate me. Jealous to please only Thee, I will rise above human respect. I will apply myself to do well all that I do,* because I know that whatever is done for Thee, should be done perfectly ; that is, with exactitude, fervor and perseverance, through an interior spirit and principle of religion. Such are my resolutions, O my God ! My tongue shall have no expressions, my heart no sentiment, my mind no faculties, my body no movement, my soul no operation, my life no duration, but to consecrate all to Thee. I will have no care but that of knowing Thy divine will, no occupation but to accom- plish it ; no zeal but for the interests of Thy glory, no ardor but to surmount all the difficulties, to brave all the obstacles, to make all the sacrifices, which Thy service and my holy state require. But, O my God, the sad experience of the past, makes me fear for the future, unless Thou reform the levity of my mind and the instabil- ity of my heart. Preserve my soul from the misfortune of again forgetting my last end. May I repair my past losses by paying Thee the most perfect homage, and by attaching myself to Thee inviolably and forever. 14 ON THE END OF THE RELIGIOUS STATE. FIRST DAY. CONFERENCE. — ON THE END OF THE RELIGIOUS STATE, " The Lord Lath chosen thee this day, to be His peculiar people." Deutr. xxvi., 18. St. Francis de Sales, has perfectly interpreted to his dear daughters these words of the Lord to the Israelites : " Your only end," says he, "is to be united to God as Jesus Christ is united to His Father." By this union I do not mean that which unites all christians to God by Baptism ; a union by which all may justly tend to heaven and attain their end by the general and spacious way of the commandments. But for you, my dear daughters, this is not so; for besides this common obligation which you have with all christians, God, through a special love, has chosen you to be His dear spouses. Now, do you wish to know what it is to be the spouse of your God, that is to say, a religious? It is to be united to Him by the con- tinual mortification of yourselves ; it is to live only for Him ; your heart, your tongue, your eyes, your hands, and all the rest, continually serving His divine Majesty." According to these precious maxims, what should be the end of a daughter of St. Francis of Sales? A union with God so perfect that He alone would be the universal object and constant end of all her movements. A worthy Religious of the Visitation should then refer to God all the thoughts of her mind, all the desires of her heart, all the exterior and interior movements of her powers, in a word, all her actions, and should refer them to Him with all possible ardor, zeal, and perseverance. She should regard our Lord as the object, the term, and the end of all her inclinations, and attach herself to Him by a perfect devotedness, so that nothing could be able to separate her from Him. This is saying too little. To use the expressions of her holy founder, she should be united to God, as Jesus Christ is united to His father. Thus, the union which her mind should have with God, does not merely consist in tnmking of Him, in being occupied with ON THE END OF THE RELIGIOUS STATE. 15 Him, but also in having, as Jesus Christ had with His father, but one same thought with Him, that is, in think- ing of all things as He thought of them, in esteeming only what He esteemed, in despising only what He despised, and in entering perfectly into all His senti- ments. In like manner the union of a religious soul with her God, does not consist merely in consecrating her affec- tions to Him, in desiring His glory, His kingdom, His possessions, but also in having with Him, as Jesus Christ had with His father, but one same will; in willing in all things what He wills, and in never willing what He does not will ; in being so strongly attached to His will that nothing is capable of leading her to withdraw from it, to follow her own or that of creatures. Finally, the union of all her other powers with God does not consist only in simply acting for Him, but also, like Jesus Christ with His Father, in having but one same action with Him; that is in applying herself only to the things which He has imposed on her, to the duties which He has prescribed for her, to labor at them, and to fulfil them in concert with Him ; to apply herself with such zeal, fidelity and constancy, that nothing will be capable of making her abandon them, or cool her ardor. In a word all the spiritual life, all perfection, the end of her state consists in the most intimate union of her mind, her heart, all her powers with God, having with Him but one same thought, one same will, one same operation, and in some manner but one same being, by an entire and perfect transformation into Him, which causes her to pass, so to say, into the divine unity, which confounds, hides, loses her in God with Jesus Christ. Such is the contract she has made with the Lord ; such is the end of her state in the mind of God, Who has called her to it, and of the Church, that has opened to her the way ; such are the views she herself should have had in entering holy religion. According to these incontestable principles " a true daughter of the Visitation," says St. Francis of Sales, " is a soul- who has no spirit but that of Jesus Christ j who lives in the most intimate union with God, in the most perfect abnegation of herself, in the most pro- Ig ON THE END OF THE RELIGIOUS STATE. found lowliness and abjection, in her own eves ; in the most tender charity and peace with her neighbor." St. Chantal says: "she is a soul who is detached from her self to be united in everything to her God ; who crucifies her will, her judgment, her inclinations, to conform to God ; who corrects her imperfections, to approach nearer and nearer to Him ; who makes Him her sovereign desire, her only love, as He is her happiness and her life ; a soul whose affections and will God possesses exclusively." Thus, a truly worthy daughter of the Institute is a soul dead to the world and to herself, united to Jesus Christ crucified, consecrated by her state, and devoted by affec- tion to His love and service. Disengaged from the cares and passions of the world, she has no mind or heart but for God ; attached by indissoluble bonds to Him Whom she has chosen for her spouse, she has no other ambition than to please and follow Him. In the desire of resem- bling Him she makes poverty her riches ; obedience her will ; mortification her pleasure ; abjection her glory ; the Cross her joy and her triumph. Behold the general end of her life ; but what are its details ? Sometimes in the sweet silence of solitude, entirely removed from the world, she acknowledges and blesses the divine mercy, which has separated her from that mass of corruption, and drawn her from that cursed land which is entirely under the power of the spirit of darkness. She laments the sad condition of blind worldlings, and through a charitable zeal, offers for them her prayers and her life. Sometimes, nourishing bei so\ri with pious meditation, she reflects upon the promises she has made to God, and reanimates herself in His service. She laments her weak- nesses, seeks and finds a remedy for her ills. She rises even to the abode of the saints, contemplates there what her illustrious founders, the heroines of her Institute have clone for God, and at the sight of the glory which crowns them, she is animated to walk in their footsteps. She remembers the eternal years, and detaches herself more and more, from all that is perishable. She hears and answers the voice of God, who daily asks of her some new sacrifice as a proof of her love, and takes it ON THE END OF THE RELIGIOUS STATE. I7 upon Himself to be the reward of her combats in His service. There, in the delights of contemplation or in the aridities of meditation, where she receives the holy favors and enjoys the tender and intimate communications of God, or is purified by dryness of heart and anxieties of mind, she seeks only to know better the designs of God over her, and to correspond to His preventing grace. She applies herself to consult only the movements of the Heart of her Spouse that, thereby, she may regulate her own. She has no attachment but for her duties ; no desire nor ardor, but for the sacred Banquet to which divine Love invites her. These are her sentiments ; this is her conduct. Subject to the rule, she edifies others by her example and animates them by her fervor. She is always com- posed in her exterior, modest in her looks, and even in the tone of her voice ; simple in her manners; even in her humor ; moderate in her action ; wise and religious in all her proceedings ; humble without affectation ; grave without ostentation ; serious without constraint ; gay without levity ; condescending without weakness ; chari- table without distinction ; devout without singularity ; fervent without eagerness ; affable and obliging. She is punctual to the community hours, exact in the observance of the Rule ; promptly and respectfully submissive to the orders of her superiors. In a word, faithful to all her duties, there is nothing humiliating in the service of God to which she does not aspire, nothing abject to which she does not abase herself, nothing elevated to which she does not tend. She has passions only to overcome them ; pleasures only to sacrifice them ; obligations only to fulfil them ; she fears to show herself almost as much as to sin, and she fears to sin much more than to die. Her heart is the sanctuary of virtue, her mouth the interpreter of truth, and her whole conduct the faithful impression of the life of Jesus Christ. What reflections should a Religious of the Visitation make upon this portrait ! In it she must, indeed, recognize the spirit of her holy founder. There is no other way for her to attain her last end ; therefore she must follow it. " You then see clearly," says St. Francis de Sales, " the 18 ON THE END OF THE RELIGIOUS STATE. end you should have in view, in order to be a worthy spouse of our Lord. Live then all your life, perform all your actions, form yourself from day to day according to this end, and God will bless you." I know, she should say to herself, what God wills of me, and what I owe Him ; I know what my salvation and my state require. I will labor seriously at the reformation of my conduct, that I may not be condemned at the hour of my death, by the sanctity of my state and the benefits of my God. What is there in me Lord, which could lead Thee to consider me as something, and how have I attract- ed Thy goodness ! Why then should I not follow the spirit of my vocation? Why should I not correspond to it by conduct worthy of Thy grace? Thy will having placed me in the religious state, Thy mercy will not refuse me wherewith to assure my solid happiness. Thy justice and goodness are engaged to support me, if I walk in the path Thy wisdom has traced for me. Strengthen my will, O Lord, animate my confidence, and assist my labors. I will no longer occupy myself with anything but my last end. I will redouble my steps in order to repair lost time, and to return into the way from which I have deviated. I will apply myself more than ever to profit by the treasures which Thou hast confided to me with so much liberality ; b}' the favors which Thou hast lavished on me without interruption ; by the beneficent dispositions of Thy heart towards me ; by the desire which Thou hast for my real happiness ; and by the many graces which I have cast from me by my infidelities. My gratitude and my constancy shall be Thy joy ; al)^ my days shall be occupied by the remembrance of Thy benefits, and sanctified by the use which I will make of them. Bless, O Lord, my present determination, and let it find in the salutary gifts of Thy grace, all that can shelter it from my former vicissitudes, that as Thou hast chosen me to be Thy par- ticular child, Thou mayst be more particularly my God. ON MORTAL SIN. 19 SECOND DAY. FIRST MEDITATION. — ON MORTAL SIN. First Point. "The mercies of the Lord that we are not consumed; because His commiserations have not failed." — Jer. Lament., hi., 22. With what eye can a religious .look upon mortal sin, which kills the soul, closes heaven and opens hell to her? O Spouse of Jesus Christ, shudder at the sight of this sovereign evil, whose abomination occasioned the death of your divine Spouse, caused His blood to flow and renews the bitterness of His passion ; whose perpetration is the most formal contempt of His authority, the most outrageous abolition of His merits, the most criminal profanation of His benefits, the most unworthy preference of the creature, of satan himself, to the divine Majesty. It is a sin enormous in its extent, and, like the demon whose name Jesus asked, and who was called legion, it is a monster composed of a thousand others. It is at the same time a revolt against God, against a friend, against a king ; disobedience to a father, ingratitude to a Saviour ; an adultery which dishonors a spouse, a crime against a benefactor, a sacrilege which sullies the temple of the Holy Ghost. It is a deicide like that of the Jews ; it not only attacks the body of Jesus, but His power of which it wishes to deprive Him ; it would also rob Him of His wis- dom ; it abuses His goodness, irritates His justice, wearies His patience, insults His liberality, annihilates His Cross and His love. Enormous sin, if we look on it with the eyes of God ! It outrages all His perfections ; it would even destroy His being, were it possible ; it wishes that God had no power to punish it, no justice to will its punishment, no wisdom to know it ; it wishes that there should be no God, since it would despoil Him of His perfections, without which He could not be God. It is a sin, which annihilates all mysteries, offends the three persons of the Holy Trinity, the authority of the Father, the wisdom of the Son, and the 20 OK MORTAL SIN. love of the Holy Ghost ; which annuls the Incarnation of the Word, rendering absolutely useless in its essence and principle the love with which Jesus Christ so loved the world that He gave Himself for it. It breaks, or, at least, renders imperfect the personal union of God with man, by separating man from God. In fine, it is a sin which, according to the Apostle, crucifies Jesus Christ anew, because it renews the cause of His death. It is a more frightful cross to our divine Saviour than the first, which was a cross of pain, whilst this is, if I may say so, a cross of sin. The first was the effect of the ignorance of the Jews, for, had they known Him, they would not have crucified Him ; whereas the latter is the effect of the barbarity of christians who know Him to be their God and, at the same time, crucify Him. The first cross was to effect the salvation of men, whereas this prevents that salvation and renders useless the life, sufferings and death of Jesus Christ. Our Saviour seems to feel this so much that He complains of it by the mouth of the prophet, saying : kt What will then become of My blood and what utility will they derive from My sacrifice?" This sin deprives the soul of God, Who is her sovereign good, and obliges this tender Father to abandon the work of His predilection, as having become the object of His hatred and malediction. It strips the soul of all grace, destroys all merit, annihilates all virtue, renders useless all good works. The sinner no longer deserves that the earth should bear him, the air serve him to breathe, or nature supply his wants, because he has abused all these things to offend their common Creator/ Who had granted him the use of them. He deserves to lose his mind, his body and his whole being, because he has employed against his God an existence that was given him only for God's glory, and if he still preserves it, it is only to make him suffer the punishment to which God's justice condemns him. Consider the dreadful chastisement, which the divine vengeance has exercised and will exercise upon sin until the end of ages. It was the avenging wrath of God, thundering against sin, that hurled from the highest heavens into the bottom of the abyss, the angels, guilty of a single thought of pride, without giving them time to ON MORTAL SW. 21 repent; which drove the first man from paradise, stripped him of all the privileges of original justice and condemned him, with all his posterity, to death. It was the terrible justice of an offended God that drowned the whole world under the waters of the deluge, that rained fire upon criminal cities, that armed the exterminating angel against the first-born of the children of Egypt; that filled the desert with serpents, that swallowed up the children of Aaron in the bosom of the earth and, in fine, has caused us to be born children of wrath, subject to all the calamities of this life, excluded from the kingdom of heaven and eternal happiness. It has enkindled those avenging flames, which are prepared for an eternity of torments, an eternity of pain, which alone, alas ! can avenge God, and is, perhaps, too light for the malice of a single mortal sin. But if such are the terrible consequences of the sins of men in general, what must be those of the sins of a religious? "The heathen sins as a man," says St. Bernard, "but the soul Consecrated to God sins as an augel, because she sins with more malice, having received more light." The heathen is an enemy already judged, says Jesus Christ, because he does not believe ; but the soul loaded with special graces is a friend who, by sinning, brings abomination into the holy place, as the angel did in heaven. Therefore, God formerly required that as many sacrifices of expiation should be offered Him for the sin of one soul consecrated to His altar, as would have been offered for a whole nation. For this reason, Jesus said to Pilate, speaking of Judas: "He who de- livered Me up to you has committed a greater sin than you, because he was My disciple." Thus He has a right to say to a religious guilty of mortal sin: "They who offend Me in the world, outrage Me, it is true, but they offend with less ingratitude and malice than you, who dare to insult Me in the very house where I lavish upon you all My treasures, in the sacred abode, where I sur- round you with all that can inspire you with My fear and love, in My sanctuary, where I leave with you the treasure of My adorable blood ; therefore, }'Ou are no longer but an object of horror to Me, so much the more 22 . OX MORTAL StN. hateful, as I see you in the midst of My people. I will avenge Myself upon you as a God ; your heart shall become more and more hardened, compunction shall not reside there, piety shall not soften it, threats shall not intimidate it, it shall become deaf to M37 voice. I will give it up to its irregular desires, to the error of its thoughts. Forget- ting the dignity of your engagements, you will make rapid progress in the path into which you have stra}-ed. I will avenge by your blindness, the profanation you make of My most special graces in a region of innocence and sanctity, and from the land of the saints where you dwell, I will at length precipitate you with the demons into the lowest depths of hell, for all eternity. Second Point. Alas ! O my God, what resources remains to me in the frightful danger to which I see myself exposed? The multitude and grievousness of my offenses overwhelm me with their weight. Enter not into judgment, O Lord, with Thy servant, for nothing can justify me in Thy sight. Oh ! that I had the hearts of the greatest penitents, the hearts of all men, to be penetrated with a sorrow such as m}' sins deserve ! Oh, that I could weep da}' and night over the sins I have committed since my baptism, alas ! since my entrance into religion. Oh, that I could wash them away by the shedding of my blood ! How great is Thy mercy, O God, which has hitherto prevented n^ falling into that gulf, where eternal and unavailing tears are shed ! The rebellious angels are expiating in those burning furnaces a thought of pride, punished as soon as committed, or rather, conceived ; have I not merited the same torments even more than they ? Do they not seem to have a right to reproach Thee with Thy patience in my regard, by exposing to Thee the details of my life and saying: "Eternal Providence, what have we done in comparison with this religious, guilty of so many iniqui- ties? Thou hast left her on earth, giving her time, a Mediator, graces, the assistance of a retreat ; Thou watchest over her as a father and she will again, perhaps, abuse so manv benefits? Ah ! if we had had some one of OX MORTAL SIN. 23 these favors which Thou lavishest on her ! But no ! Thou hast treated us in all the rigor of Thy justice ! Where, then, is justice? Strike, if Thou art just, strike with the same sword a soul more criminal than w r e." I acknowledge, Lord, that I cannot but approve the reasons which these reprobate blasphemers have to demand my damnation, or to complain of theirs, if, at the same time, Father of mercies and God of vengeance, Thou hadst not been as merciful tome, as Thou hast been just to them. May the sight of Thy mere}' towards me inspire me with gratitude and love ! May the sight of Thy prompt justice towards them inspire me with fear ! Ah ! can I ever again offend a God, so severe and so good? No, Lord, I will embrace penance, that compound of Thy mercy and justice ; a contrite and humble heart will much more exalt Thy glory and justify Thy judgments than all the blows which Thy vengeance could deal upon me. I will unceasingly recall my offenses to punish them. Thou art just and Thy judgments are just; I fear them. If Thou reprehend me in Thy wrath, what glory will redound to Thee by my damnation ? When Thou shalt have stricken the dust, will the dust contribute to Thy glory? Thy justice, by avenging Thy blood which I have profaned will be satisfied, but would it not be still more so by my pardon, by which will be applied to me the merits of the precious blood Thou hast shed for me? Thou wilt be glorified by my tears and penance. Thou, Thyself, tell- est me that if I do penance for the crimes I have commit- ted, Thou wilt repent of the vengeance Thou hadst resolved to inflict upon me. These words may appear unworthy of Thy majesty to those who know not Thy goodness, but as for me, far from abusing Thy kind indulgence, I will thereby animate myself to contrition. This thought will render sweet and light, the very rigor of penance, whose shadow alone has, heretofore, alarmed me. The remembraace of Thy mercy will enkindle in me a lively ardor to offer Thee daily some new satisfaction. I will immolate upon the altar of penance the double holocaust of my mind and heart, to avenge Thy glory for my past outrages and to be restored to the rights of Thy faithful children. I will embrace with resignation all that 24 OV MORTAL sm. can humble me, to expiate the faults I have committed by my pride. I will excuse and bear with my neighbor to re- pair my detractions and calumnies, my dissatisfactions and murinurings. I will not be troubled at grievous events, but profit by them to pay my debts. I will repair my dissipation by recollection and silence ; my self-love by mortification ; nrj tepidity by regularity. I will never complain of what may be disagreeable to my taste, pain- ful to my heart, contrary to my mind, crucifying to my body, because I have deserved to be drenched with the gall of the asp and the wine of the wrath of God in the very depths of hell. I will deprive myself of all sensible' satisfaction, there being no longer any lawful or innocent pleasures for a soul so guilty as mine, This cry, "I have sinned!" which shall come incessantly from my heart, will make me endure everything with peace and gratitude, regulate and mortify my senses, combat my passions, subdue my inclinations, renounce my judgment and rm T will, neglecting nothing to redeem myself by the sufferings of this life from the torments of eternity. Such are my resolutions, O my God, and, if I am unfaith- ful, punish me Thyself by humiliation, disgrace, sickness, dryness, disgust, privation, interior and exterior pains. If T ever willingly relapse into mortal sin, over which I wish to weep all nry life, may the earth swallow me up, the sun refuse me its light, and tire its warmth ; may all creatures rise up against me. Oh my God, sustain me in the sentiments which Thy grace has produced, rather let me die a thousand times than ever offend Thee by a single mortal sin. / Ojst venial sm. 25 SECOND DAY. SECOND MEDITATION. — ON VENIAL SIN. First Point. " They that love the Lord, will keep His way."— Eccles. 18. It is not enough, particularly for a religious who makes a special profession of loving God, to have a horror of the sin that offends Him mortally. She must also avoid with extreme care every thing that can dis- please Him. She should not even make a distinction between sin and sin, between offense and offense, for can a generous and feeling heart consider as a trifle what wounds its blood? Can a religious soul look with indif- ference upon a sin that afflicts the heart, and excites the jealousy of her divine Spouse? Jealousy in the creature is unjust, because it appropri- ates to itself what was not made for it ; but in Jesus Christ, it is justice, because every thing and especially the religious soul belongs to Him. It is also mercy, for why is He so jealous, especially of the purity of this soul? Will He be happier on account of it? No, — but she cannot be happy without this purity, and He wishes to associate her to His own happiness. But as nothing defiled can enter the kingdom of heaven, His glory seems diminished in His own eyes, as He sees her hastening to destruction. What a subject of bitterness for the iove of Jesus Christ is a religious, who would not commit great sins, but who makes no scruple of committing slight ones, or what she calls slight ; who satisfies her inclinations, provided they are not manifestly sinful ; who passes her times of meditation in a voluntary languor of mind who approaches the Sacraments without fervor and with- out fruit ; who no longer seeks to please God and advance in virtue ; who, always dissipated and distracted, no longer listens to the inspirations of grace, what does He 26 ON VENIAL SIN. think of one who obeys her rule through constraint, or human respect ; who entertains not too tender, but too natural friendships ; who occupies herself, not with read- ings that corrupt the heart, but that amuse the mind ; who does not wish to violate her vow of obedience, but delays to ask ; interprets, supposes, or abuses the consent of superiors ; who counts for a little thing a marked resentment, a deliberate untruth, an act of sloth, a volun- tary negligence, a thought of vanity wilfully entertained, a sensuality, an impatience manifested, a jealousy de- clared, a malicious joke, a slight detraction. What does He think of one who, says to herself and to others : " It is only a venial sin, it is only weakness!" O deceitful and fatal language ! Venial sin cannot be a slight evil since it is an offence against God. It is a want of respect for His majesty, and an indifference for His goodness, a contempt for His sanctity, a want of submission to His law. Jesus Christ has so great, so essential an opposition to this sin that He can cease to be God sooner than cease to hate it. It deprives the soul of a new grace she would have received, of a degree of glory she might have acquired, of a degree of love that the heart of God would have conceived for her. Even the lightness of the matter renders it in some manner less excusable. Does not the sincerity and delicacy of friendship appear in small services? Do we rely much on the sentiments of those who limit them to not deeply insulting their friends? They are but weaknesses, she says. Can she consider as simple weak- nesses faults which attack the eternal greatness, the infinite majesty of God, faults, which, without the mercy of God, would merit an infinite and eternal punishment? The evil is not mortal, she says. Is there, then, no evil in the world but death? It is not mortal considered in itself, but does it not become so in its increase? St. Francis of Sales says, there is no venial sin which may not become mortal when neglected, because from this state of negligence one passes to contempt. Temptation comes, grace is weakened, and, from a little fault, one falls as it were necessarily into a greater, sometimes by way of inclination, often by way of disposition, and again, by way otf YEfriAL sm. 27 of punishment. By way of inclination : one is accustomed, by degrees, to see danger without fear, and light faults with indifference then in a critical moment, the devil mak- ing a last effort, the heart, already moved and softened, hesitates, and yields. The arrow is shot, the abyss is open, and the soul falls into it. What rapidity in the progress of evil ! First languor, then weakness followed by indif- ference, and finally, the depth of misfortune, the loss of the soul. By way of disposition : venial sin insensibly and gradually cools fervor, obscures the interior light, causes the joy and unction of the Holy Ghost to disappear, destro} T s a relish and inclination for heavenly things, weakens faith, eclipses charity, dissipates attention and vigilance. The eternal truths no longer make any impression. The soul, having thus become weak and blind, is in a disposition to yield on dangerous occasions, and is almost always overcome on the first. B3' way of punishment : what is the tacit language of a soul that does not wish to avoid venial sin ? She says : u Such a thing displeases God, but I do not care," or, " I know not if it will displease God, but I will not examine it". . . .; her indifference necessarily causes that of our Lord. No more special Providence over her, no more particular protection, no more care to withdraw her from great temptations, dangerous occasions ; no more strong- graces in pressing needs ! This subtraction of grace is the cause of a more grievous fall ; it leads to a fatal step, and thence, often, to reprobation. Hence, if the greatest sinner becomes a saint, when careful not to sin deliber- ately, the greatest saint becomes a sinner, when she allows herself habitually to commit faults with deliberate malice. We hear of the dreadful judgments of God, of those thundering blows that overturn the cedars of Libanus and make the stars fall from heaven. We are alarmed, but often these judgments are not so deep as we think. The religious soul that was thought so wise, so regular, who had fulfilled all her employments with approbation, makes a scandalous fall. Go back to the source. For a long time, her relaxations in the service of God, her numerous venial sins prepared the great Judge to deprive her of His 28 ON VENIAL SIN. special protection in the evil day. A soul truly generous and faithful to her God, would not have experienced such a disaster. Rarely does a religious attentive to avoid venial sin fall into mortal faults, but a religious, who is negligent about light offenses, always falls into more grievous sins. Second Point. Alas ! Lord, how little have I understood these truths which faith teaches me ! What is my life weighed in the scales of the sanctuary? A tissue of faults ; levity of the tongue, vanity of the mind, want of charity, rash judgments, loss of time, sensuality, jealousy, resentment, and curiosity. I do not yield to anger, but am I not often bitter, morose, and impatient? Am I not attached to the things that I use ? I fiollow my rule, but is it not with tepidity, and without the interior spirit? I confess often, but is it not without amendment? My com- munions are frequent, but are they the more fervent? I perform my exercises, I assist at the meditations, but is it not without preparation, without love, without inten- tion, or through habit? Do I not limit my obedience to capital points and dispute incessantly between counsel and precept? What an illusion I have made to myself, perhaps, in certain matters, where the limits of good and evil touch so closely, and where it is so difficult to discern the point which separates venial from mortal sin ! How often have I considered as light those inconsiderate looks, those rising desires, those dangerous thoughts, in which the heart, floating, as it were, between the sentiment and the consent, cannot discern what is or is not, what it fears or what it loves, what it seeks or what it rejects ! How often have I considered as light, cutting railleries, pointed detractions, which have left bleeding wounds in the heart of my neighbor ? Alas ! how far might I not cany this detail. But what makes me tremble is that I have considered these faults so small. How can I call little a sin that resists the will of God, despises His law, obscures His light in my soul? A sin that deprives God of more glory than all my holiest actions, services, and homages. . . what do I say ! . . . ON VENIAL SIN. 29 of more than all saints, all creatures, have been able to give Him by their adorations and sacrifices. How can I call light a sin which, as it offends God, is the evil of God, and so great an evil that the desolation of the whole earth and the ruin of the world, the destruction of all men and angels cannot be compared to it? How can I call light a sin that becomes so much more considerable for me, as it directly combats grace and the end of my vocation ? which places the greatest obstacle to my perfection, and for which the voluntary affection and liabit in me is a mortal sin ? Are not trifles on the lips of seculars blasphemies in a religious? Does it suffice for me to renounce all that can separate me from God? Ought I not by my state to draw aside the lightest cloud that could hide from me His presence ? How can I call light a sin which, it is true, does not withdraw sanctifying grace, but tarnishes its splendor? which weakens, and diminishes the actual grace that enables me to avoid dangerous occasions? a sin which prevents, or renders useless, the assistance which God destines for my perseverance? a sin which does not efface in me, it is true, the image of God, but obscures it? which causes not the death of my soul, but which gives it a wound that, if neglected, may become mortal? which, if it does not separate me from God, cools His love for me ; if it does not exclude me from heaven, places me at a distance from it? which if it does not cause my damna- tion, leads to it? How can I call light a sin which God has punished in so terrible a manner in His most faithful servants? In Moses, whom for a slight mistrust He excluded from the promised land ; in David, whom for a slight vanity He afflicted with terrible scourges ; in Ezechias, that holy king of Israel, whom for an indiscreet complacency, He punished even to the third generation ; in Saul, whom, for reserving, contrary to His orders, some of the spoils of the Amalekites, and offering sacrifice on the seventh day without waiting for the prophet, He rejected ; in Osa, and in the twenty- five thousand Bethsamites, the first for daring to support the Ark of the Covenant, the second for looking, although with respect, upon it. 30 ON VENIAL SIN. In fine, how can I call light a sin, for which so many souls whom God loves and who love Him are now burn- ing in the flames of purgatory? And do I not experience myself the punishment which God exercises upon religious souls, who are base enough to commit voluntary venial sins? Do I not feel that subtraction of graces, which are almost necessary for my salvation? Do I not feel the terrible consequences of the indifference, which causes God to abandon me to the course of a general Provi- dence? Has He any longer over me that special Provi- dence, which produces within me those particular graces that secure salvation. Why, in a state so sanctifying as mine, am I so little advanced in virtue ? I acknowledge, my God, that I have stopped the course of Thy grace by my facility in committing what I considered only slight sins, and perhaps overturned the designs of Thy mercy for my perfection, but I acknowledge it with the most lively sentiments of sorrow. May I, during the remainder of my life, multiply my acts of contrition bej'ond the number of my sins. I firmly resolve never again deliberately to offend Thee. May this resolution be for me the beginning of a new life, a life exempt from sin, replete with virtues, and above all, with Thy love. How can a soul that makes profession of loving Thee deliberately say : " Yes, I know this action displeases God, yet I will do it." Does such conduct accord with Thy love? I will love Thee, my God, and then, I will sin no more, at least voluntarily ; for true love and the will to sin cannot dwell in the same heart. "Whoever loves God," says St. Chrysostom, " would prefer the flames of hell to the slightest offence against Him," and St. Augustine says he would rather be in hell without sin, than in heaven, with the least stain upon his soul. These great senti- ments will become mine ; but, Lord, there is no effica- cious resolution, no secure sanctity, if Thou withdraw Thy hand ; there is no strength that can support me, if Thou, Thyself, do not sustain me. Charitable physician of my soul, let Thy power uphold my weakness. May Thy zeal for my perfection enkindle mine. May Thy divine love strengten me in the way of Thy commandments ; may ON THE ABUSE OF GRACE. 31 it render me prompt to accomplish all that is pleasing to Thee, and inflexible in never consenting to anything that can offend Thee. SECOND DAY. THIRD MEDITATION. ON THE ABUSE OF GRACE. First Point. ''And unto whomsoever much is given, of him much shall be required. " — Luke xii., 48. A religious has not only her sins to lament before God. The graces she receives from Him are as much to be feared for her as her iniquities ; or rather, her sins are so dreadful only on account of the graces which are lavished upon her. These graces are the voice of God which speaks to her heart, the divine breath which animates her soul, the ray of wisdom which enlivens her mind, the flame of love which excites her will, the sacred seed which ought to produce her sauctification, and be the principle of her salvation, and the fruitfuluess of favors, the price of the blood of Jesus Christ. By resisting grace, she stifles the voice of her God, she outrages His spirit, she becomes rebellious to His light, repulses the efforts of His love, renders sterile a divine seed, ruins the foundation of her salvation, tramples under foot the blood of Jesus Christ. By this want of correspondence to grace, she withdraws from the dominion that God has over her, a dominion absolute, universal, and eternal. God is not absolute in a heart that does not wish to submit to Him ; His empire is not universal in a soul that refuses what He demands. His reign is not eternal in a soul that, belonging some- times to Him, sometimes to herself, rejects His authority which is not less indivisible than the truth of His being. Thus, she opposes herself to the tender love of this bene- ficent God, Who inclines to do her good. By this want of correspondence, the unfaithful soul at length forces 32 ON THE ABUSE OF GRACE. God to leave her, to oppose His justice to His mercy, by making her the object of His anger, having wished to make her the cherished object of His love. The dreadful chastisements are, first, the subtraction of the graces she has abused. This our Lord seems to declare under the figure of a vine: "I have planted," says He, "• a vine upon the declivity of a fertile mountain," that is to say, I have placed this soul in religion upon a mountain, elevated above the things of earth, where the abundance of My graces and the unction of My mercy flow with profusion. What have I not done to cultivate this vine and put it into a good state for bearing fruit? I have closed the avenues to those who passed by ; I have surrounded it with a ditch, with a living hedge ; I have taken away all the stones ; I have built a tower in the midst of it, to observe from all sides whatever could harm it ; I have constructed a press to make wine, that is, I have removed this soul from the world and from the occasions of sin j I have delivered her from temporal cares, I have surrounded her with interior and exterior helps; I have given her rules, constitutions, observ- ances to fulfil ; I have provided against all the obstacles that might prevent her increase in virtue. I have lavished on her talents, qualities, graces, inspirations, lights, sacraments, examples, and retreats. I have placed over her vigilant superiors ; I have imposed on her mortifica- tions, austerities, and all the means that could urge her to do well, and to express in an edifying life the precious liquid of virtues that embalms heaven and earth. What more could I do than I have done? " I hoped" continues our Lord, "that this vine would yield Me grapes, but I found none, or only bad ones. What, therefore, shall I do? I will abandon it, I will pluck it up, I will destroy the hedge, and it shall be pillaged ; I will throw down the wall, and they that pass by shall trample it under foot ; it shall be pruned and pressed no more ; thorns and briars shall grow there, and I will command the clouds of heaven to water it no more." That is to say, I hoped that this religious would correspond to my care, my love and my graces, but what do I receive from her? what does she produce? Scarcely a few good works performed with ON THE ABUSE OF GRACE. 33 negligence, through base and human views. I find in her no solid virtue, no constancy in good, no relish for divine things. I find only imperfection in the observance of her vows, a false conscience under pretext of not being scrupulous, maxims of relaxation allied to confes- sions and communions, only a dead or dying faith. It is enough. Her little correspondence to my graces renders her unworthy of them. I will withdraw them, and will give her up to a reprobate sense. I will depnve her of my inspirations. I will use towards her the same measure she has used towards me ; I will render her indifference for indifference, contempt for contempt, neglect for neglect. I will not cause My common graces to fail her ; My providence shall be justified towards her; I will give her those ordinary graces, with which she may combat, and, notwithstanding which, she will be over- come. But, as for those special and choice graces, which are not due her and are not promised, those powerful and efficacious helps, which enable the soul to do the good that they show her, that move the will and lead to happy perseverance ; I will deprive her of them ; I will give them to others who will make better use of them. " It is a just punishment," says St. Francis of Sales, " that they who abuse grace should be deprived of it, and that they who will not do the good they know, should not know what is good." Consider the frightful state into which a religious falls, who is indocile to grace. She no longer knows the way she should go and walks in darkness, without seeing the goal towards which she tends. She no longer hears the voice of God, and refuses the sacrifices re- quired for the perfection of her state. She even makes to herself a false conscience, no longer studying its spirit and engagements. She does not examine the motive that animates her, for fear of being troubled at the sight of what she would be obliged to reform. She congratulates herself that she is not scrupulous or constrained. She takes credit to her- self for not being like those who aspire to a greater good. " We. must go simply," she says, "without cavilling about trifles. God is not so severe as to make a crime 3-1- ON THE ABUSE OF GRACE. out of nothing. With what can I be reproached in the abuse, you say, I make of grace? Only some affection for earthly things, a slight attachment to little con- veniences, useless words, thoughts and looks, a simple curiosity which zeal excites, piety seeks, the love of my country or religion animates and sanctifies; a witty speech, a joke upon natural and well known defects. Cannot one be holy without continually restraining her- self ? Must we give up every pleasure ? No ! no ! that is not the voice of God, but the effect of a heated im- agination, which is taken for inspiration." Oh, how many religious have been seduced by this fatal reasoning ! How many have been lost ! For repro- bation is often a fatal consequence of the abuse of grace. Without doubt, God wishes to save all men, but He does not destine them all to the same degree of elevation and glory. In calling us to heaven He appoints us the place and rank which we are to occupy ; either we shall never enter there, or we shall have no other place or rank. In consequence, God prepares for us the graces we need, and proportions them to His designs over us, fixing their precise number. The only means of securing our salva- tion is to correspond to the helps He gives us, and of which He fixes the measure, that we may attain the degree of perfection which is to conduct us to the rank He destines for us in heaven. Otherwise, we miss our salvation and renounce the treasure of glory with which He wishes to enrich us in heaven. Shall a religious complain of the high perfection to which our Lord calls her and /which He requires of her? Ah ! would this not be to complain of the singular bounties He lavishes upon her? He demands of her so much sanctity, only that He may give her a more precious crown ; He wishes her to be more perfect, only that He may render her more glorious. He requires more fidelity, because He has more love for her. Second Point. How striking is this truth, O my God ! It is not enough for me not to be guilty of sin, even to be faithful to my ON THE ABUSE OF GRACE. 35 state and its duties ; it is also necessary that this fidelity be full, and answer to the grace that inspires me. It is not enough that Thou find me at my last hour with my hands filled with good works ; they will be good in Thine eyes ouly inasmuch as they have the goodness Thou dost expect of them. It is not enough for me to omit nothing ; the character of my exactitude must correspond to the character of the graces with which Thou hast favored me. Otherwise my best works will bear no character of life, because they will be destitute of the fervor that is to merit for them the degree of sanctity to which I am called. My God ! how often have I frustrated the designs of Thy grace over my soul, and rendered myself more criminal than persons in the world, because Thou hast shown me more signal favors ! Thou didst expect from me high sanctity, singular gratitude, particular glory, and I have been rebellious to this destiny.* Thy anger has succeeded to Thy love, Thy justice to Thy mercy, sterility to fecundity. What remains to me in the sad state to which I see myself reduced ? What a subject of confusion for me ! How many delays, infidelities, revolts, and inspirations neglected, resolutions broken ! How many words of life heard without profit ! How many graces, of which I have rendered myself unworthy by the abuse I have made of those which would have won them for me ! Oh, if oniy I had been faithful, what a store I would now possess ! How many have I lost by my little attention to good works ! How often have I re- jected or stifled that divine seed, and prevented it from producing the fruits of justice and salvation which are attached thereto ! How often have I extinguished that bright light, that showed me the good I ought to do and the evil I ought to avoid, and deadened the sacred fire that warmed me ! Lo, to what a frightful indigence has negligence reduced my poor soul ! What purity, what innocence, what love would fill my heart if I had been faithful to the divine mercy ! Ah ! Lord, dost Thou not already exercise upon me that secret vengeance which, being invisible, is but the more dreadful? Thou dost punish my infidelities by the subtraction of Thy graces. 36 ON THE ABUSE OF GRACE. I no longer experience certain attractions, certain sweet- nesses of Thy bounty, certain reproaches of my con- science, certain delights in Thy service. Where is the divine light that formerly illumined me ? Where are the holy desires that animated me? What has become of those sweet alarms? Nothing any longer troubles me, nothing moves me, rules, good examples, salutary advice, all split against the hardness of my heart. Alas ! have I not reason to think that the talents which Thou hast confided to me, and which I have rendered useless, have been taken from me and given to others who will profit by them? I see my sisters making daily progress in virtue, I see them advancing in the way of perfection. What recollection, regularity, obedience, mortification, meekness, humility and fervor they manifest ! Thou dust reward their fidelity, and punish my ingratitude. Must I then experience the chastisement of the unfaith- ful servant, who buried Thy talent? and the blindness of the faithless Jerusalem, which did not profit by Thy words, Thy holy visits? Oh my God, 1 willingly submit to Thy vengeance, but exercise upon me any other punish- ment ; however rigorous it may be, it will be for me a new favor. Strike ! I am willing for this, but strike as a Father, Who always remembers mercy ; strike as a judge if Thou wilt, but in that justice which never forgets mercy ; strike not in that hatred, which would cast me into hell. Wilt Thou then abandon me, O Lord ? I deserve it, but hast Thou not other punishments in the treasury of Thy divine anger? Why abandon me to my infidelities? Where are the bowels of Thy paternal goodness ? Where those mighty graces which the hardness of the most insensible hearts cannot resist? What has become of that zeal, that eager desire Thou hadst for my salvation ? I know that I have stopped the course of Thy grace, but have I dried up its inexhaustible source? Is it on my account or Thine own, that Thou art good? Thou wilt always be our Father, as long as Jesus Christ, Thy adorable Son, continues to be our brother. Behold His labors, listen to His cries, look upon His wounds. Why harden my heart? Why take from me Thy holy fear? Is it thus a father punishes? I am worse than I was in the world, where I knew Thee 02f THE ABUSE OF GRACE. 37 not, and the world and my passions ruled me. Ah ! let the arm of Thy justice be shortened ; return to me for the sake of so many of Thy faithful servants, with whom I have the happiness of living, for the sake of my holy founders, who have promised Thee in their Order a family of saints. Despise not, O Lord, a contrite and humbled heart. Ah ! this sentiment of sorrow that I feel can only be the effect of Thy grace ; no less than this re- treat, this present moment, when Thou dost speak to me, when Thou dost enlighten my understanding, strengthen my will and reanimate my hope ; I feel rising in my heart a lively fear and confidence. Since Thy voice frightens and reanimates me, I know Thou hast not abandoned me. Give me time and I will pay Thee all. Thou alone wilt be forever the God of my heart. I will give myself up truly and forever to Thy guidance. I will no longer oppose Thy tender advances to my soul. I will abandon myself to the impulse of Thy grace, I will be attentive to follow its secret movements, I will be docile to its heavenly lights and sensible to its holy ardor. Gratitude will support my fidelity. Shall I fear to yield too much to the attractions of my God, whilst this God of goodness, notwithstanding my abuse of His grace, still pur- sues me? What does He ask of me? My heart? and in return for so little that He exacts and eagerly re- ceives, when it is offered with love, He gives Himself as a reward ; can I do too much to repair my losses and secure so rich a possession ? Oh God, Who dost form in me these desires, support them by Thy grace. Enable me to execute with fidelity all that Thy goodness inspires. Animate me in the practice of the virtues that Thou dost require, and I will embrace them with all my strength. I will watch continually over my interior to observe the lights, good thoughts, inspirations, and holy affections, that Thou wilt deign to communicate tome. I will strengthen myself against the weakness of my na- ture that abhors what is difficult or opposed to it ; that stifles the movements ot Thy grace, fearing to enter too deeply into the exercises of piety and mortification. I will labor at my perfection, according to the greatness of Thy benefits and my obligations. All my life, I will weep 38 ON RELIGIOUS VIGILANCE. over the loss of the time, I have so badly employed. I will so use all the moments that remain, that there may be no voids in my life, and that I may attain the degree of sanctity I am obliged to acquire that I may be saved. SECOND DAY. CONFERENCE. — ON RELIGIOUS VIGILANCE. " What I say to you, I say to all: Watch."— Mark xiii., 37. It is not enough to hate sin, we must avoid the occa- sions of it. It is not enough not to abuse grace, we must profit by it, and it is only by vigilance, the source of every merit and the principle of all sanctity, that we can abstain from what God forbids, and do what He commands. It is only by entering into ourselves, by examining the secret dispositions of our souls, by sounding all the folds of our hearts, that we can avoid evil, do good, and acquire graces, merits, and inspirations from God. The certainty of salvation is not the privilege of a soul placed by God Himself in religion. She may be lost there at any hour, because she is not sheltered from every danger. The only means of escape is to be vigilant and take proper measures against surprise. A continual vigilance is necessary to guard against the deceits of her own hearty always leagued with her passions to delude her. Without vigilance, she will mistake timidity for the true fear of God, a horror of the conse- quences of sin for horror of sin itself ; the esteem of virtue for a love of virtue ; the sentiment of grace for a consent to grace ; vain wishes for a sincere will ; desires of con- version for a true conversion. To avoid these disorders a scrupulous watchfulness is necessary. In a word, her salva- tion and her progress are the result of vigilance. " Watch over your heart," says the Holy Scripture, because from it life proceeds ; watch over your senses, "because through them death enters the 80111/ ' This cir- cumspection should be much the greater for a religious, OX RELIGIOUS VIGILANCE. 59 as her heart is a sanctuary in which the Lord wishes to dwell, and that closed garden of Scripture, in which He wishes to take delight. What a difference between a vigi- lant and a dissipated soul in religion ! The latter has daily in her hands the most precious treasures, and she wastes them ; a number of talents which she might make produce a hundred fold, and she buries them. She might every moment take a new step toward heaven, and she draws back ; she might attach to her crown as many precious stones as she has duties to fulfil, and she even suffers the crown itself to be taken from her. As nothing is more unknown to her than her own heart, she avoids considering the source of the faultsshe commits. Nothing is more usual than to hear her attribute the cause of them to what she thinks she sees defective in the conduct of her sisters towards ber. They — if we believe her, — occasion all her hastiness, her humor and her wilfulness. Every thing must bend to her will. All others experience her im- patience. She is always in the right ; to contradict her is to touch those mountains that cast up fire and brimstone ; she sees no passions in herself, but only in others ; such conduct removes her farther and farther from perfection. She cannot have the spirit of prayer, for, going to it with her imagination full of the pretended faults that have been committed against her. she spends her time in judging and condemning her neighbor, and in justifying in her own eyes all her actions. Such a praj^er drives peace from her soul, and she comes from it with bitterness in her heart and trouble in her mind. From this fatal and painful situa- tion produced by her lack of vigilance, comes that facility with which she dispenses herself from a number of exercises, and the negligence and tepidity with which she acquits herself of others. Prayers without prepara- tion, respect or devotion ; spiritual reading without attention or fruit; superficial examinations of conscience which never lead to change of heart ; confessions without contrition or amendment, followed by continuaj relapses, so that it seems as if she confesses only to sin, and sins only to confess ; communions without faith or love, devo- tion or profit ; these make up her life. She daily eats the Bread of the strong and remains in her weaknesses ; she 40 ON RELIGIOUS VIGILANCE. unites herself corporally to the Flesh of Jesus Christ, and never acquires that union of mind and heart with Him, which should be the effect of a good communion. Thus, by a deplorable misfortune, the tepid and negli- gent religious makes what should be the means of her per- fection, obstacles to her salvation ; the graces that God gives her, the ordinary matter of her sins ; her very con- fessions the source of her reprobation. God, Who never entirely withdraws from the sinner, does not abandon her but insensibly withdraws His gifts. She is no longer touched by what formerly struck her. The sun of justice still shines, but no longer in a clear and serene noon-day ; she perceives it, but it is only through the mists of passion, which thicken more and more. God still says to her: " I will," fle commands, but this negligent and dissipated soul turns away her attention or answers, like the shade of Samuel, " Why do you torment me?" In this fatal disposition, she habitually yields to little faults, and is but too much disposed to yield to greater. She relapses more and more, is disgusted with piety, rejects grace ; to-day she quits one practise, to-morrow she omits another. She has less and less recollection, more repugnance for good, more propensity to evil. The burden of religion becomes heavy to her, its yoke oppres- sive ; she carries it, or rather drags it, and soon she becomes as irregular, as she had formerly been exact and virtuous. What is the cause of so frightful an evil? The want of vigilance, a voluntary dissipation, a prayer omitted, a practise neglected, an exercise abandoned ; behold the commencement! Movements ■'of grace despised, remorse of conscience stifled, behold the progress ! A more mark- ed infidelity, a more grievous fault, continued relapses behold the fatal result. Where will it end? How ver}' different is the conduct of a religious and vigilant soul ! She is always occupied in watching over her movements, in combating her passions, in mortifying her inclinations, in directing all her steps in the paths of justice. We see in all her proceedings the same equality, recollection and fervor, the same charity and fidelity to her God. We would think that sensible objects produce in her no sensation. She watches so carefully over her On religious Vigilance. 4i heart, that she seems to avert at ease all harmful impres- sions. This vigilance renders her attentive to the different movements of nature and grace, which so few discern. She destroys the former and cultivates the latter. Skil- ful in distinguishing the voice of her Spouse, she runs at the least sign of His will. Careful to profit by the sacri- fices which each day brings her, she amasses a fund of treasures. She has duties to fulfil, among which are difficult and painful ones ; there are cares to be taken, attentions to give, a thousand different occupations, a thousand subjections. How many disquietudes and em- barrassments does she meet ! But accustomed to break her will, to contradict her inclinations, nothing seems to incommode, disquiet, vex, or displease her ; she takes everything in view of God and according to His spirit. The most common actions are performed through a super- natural motive. Everything is offered, everything is sanctified, everything is meritorious. Do not fear that this vigilance will destroy peace and union with her sisters. No, on the contrary, it perfects these gifs. A soul thus recollected is burdensome to no one, and is uni- versally loved. In her are no traits of humor, she exacts no attentions, no deferences. She has to treat with differ- ent characters, some amiable, others only calculated to exercise patience. She complains of no one, overcomes herself, represses her resentments, hides what she feels, and makes everything contribute to her sanetification. But, within herself, how many occasions of sacrifice does she not find ! How many weeds spring up in her own garden ! She carefully plucks them up as soon as they appear. She incessantly arms herself against her own heart, her vanity, vivacity, and sensibility ; she is silent when she would wish to speak; speaks when she would wish to be silent, renounces her tastes, overcomes her repugnances, arrests her sallies, governs her humors, submits her judgment ; in a word, she restrains and over- comes herself without showing it exteriorly. If she is in a state of discouragement, dejection, weariness, in which without knowing why, she is disquieted, troubled, or agi- tated, riis does not by the recital of her pains, fatigue those in whom she would find an insensibility that must aggra- 42 Otf ttEtlGIOUB VIGILANCE. vate her wounds, or an interest that would increase them. In the secret of her heart, she offers her crosses to God, Who alone can give her consolation. She knows that suffering is compared to a precious liquor, that loses its virtue when exposed to the air. She has recourse to God alone. She esteems herself happy to be able to give Him every day some pledge of her love, and that He deigns to receive such feeble proofs of it. And what favors does not this remunerating God lavish upon her. Supernatural gifts, a lively faith, tender devotion, love of prayer, profound peace, joy of the Holy Spirit, power over His own heart, over His love ; prayers in- fallibly heard for herself and others ; such is the portion of this pure and faithful soul. If we were permitted to penetrate into that sanctuary, to which God alone is admitted, and watched, what wonders would we not discern ! What graces of God would we not discover lavished upon this soul, which has no movement, no desire, no ardor, but to please Him. What facility in conversing with Him ! Prayer is her de- light, her element, her life ! In it she banishes from her mind everything of earth. What an intimate union with the God of her heart, with Jesus Christ ! How many precious merits this holy intercourse brings her. For her, no actions are indifferent ; the most natural are worthy of an infinite reward. By her constant fidelity, she acquires at every step a new degree of light to know God more clearly, a new degree of love to love Him more perfectly. Such is the happiness of a vigilant soul, faith ful to the movements of grace. 'Such was in particular St. Chantal, that precious model of a religious of the Visita- tion. It was by her vigilance, that she attained the high degree of sanctity that merited for her the glory she now enjoys in heaven, and the veneration decreed her by the Church, in placing her upon its altars. Could she have known the designs of God over her otherwise than by applying herself to the study of them ? Would she have had strength to conquer nature and the senses, if she had not understood the necessity of it? and could she have done this without consulting God, without entering into herself continually, without watching over all her Otf RELIGIOUS VIGILANCE. 43 movements? Could she have practised the vow to do what was most perfect, — that vow so difficult to fulfil, without the greatest circumspection over her heart, her actions, discourses and proceedings, her whole conduct? What fruit did not her vigilance produce in her soul ! How many virtues did it not make her practise and with what perfection. In a few words she said much ; often she answered by silence, economizing her words and moments, so as to give them only through necessity, utility and charity. She avoided curiosity, and did not gratify that of others. She was serious without moroseness, grave without haughtiness ; she had only humble sentiments of herself, and always respected and esteemed her neighbor. She saw in herself onl} r defects ; in others only virtues. In the infirmities of her sisters she saw only her own miseries. She reproved them with charity, received their advice with great sweetness and gratitude ; gave pain to none, and was willing to suffer from all. Her discourses were seasoned with that Chris- tian meekness which humility produces. She avenged injuries only by benefits, regulated her dispositions and conduct towards others neither by antipathy nor sym- pathy, but by the principles of charity. She exercised this virtue more williugly with the persons that pleased her least, because she then exercised it in a pure manner ; in fine, she saw God alone in her neighbor. It was her vigilance over self, that taught her to act no longer accord- ing to the sentiments of nature and the senses, but accord- ing to faith, neither to seek herself nor others, but God alone ; to make the desire of pleasing Him her only virtue, the Gospel her principal study, prayer her element, patience her exercise, humility her glory, annihilation her greatness, mortification ber strength, goodness her character, the love of God her treasure, the Rules and Constitutions her second Gospel, the Cross her con- solation, and a life of sacrifices her eternal crown. It was her vigilance that withdrew her senses from dissipation, collected her spiritual powers and fixed them on God, in Whom she found her repose and felicity. Thence, those consoling entertainments with the Supreme Being, those continual movements which succeeded each 44 ON RELIGIOUS VIGILANCE. other in her heart by acts of gratitude, adoration, offer- ing, humility, compunction and love, of which she formed an interior language, which she never suffered to be in- terrupted. Thence, that intimate union, that sacred intimacy with Jesus Christ, so that she thought only of Him and acted only for Him. This divine Saviour lived in her, wrought by her, governed her memory, regulated her imagination, instructed her understanding, inspired her will and inflamed her heart with that heavenly fire, which He came to bring on earth. Thus, her vigilance filled her whole life, rendered her conduct luminous b} T the simplicity of a pure intention, and loaded her with merits and glory. Thus, vigilance is indispensable for each of her daughters, who should, as she did, aspire to the perfection of so hoty a state. It is enough, O my God! After the example of my holy Mother, I will watch over my mind, examine its sentiments and maxims, that I may act always through reason, prudence, and discretion ; that I may not see and hear things that do not concern me, and take no part in amusements that I should avoid. I will watch over my heart to examine its dispositions and see, O Lord, if it seeks Thee in truth ; if Thou alone art its Master ; if Thou alone art its beloved object. I will watch over my senses, over my powers, interior and exterior, that all may be measured and regulated according to Thee, by Thee and for Thee. I will watch over the nature and end of my actions, to animate them by fervor, and perform them in Thy divine presence with a pure intention/ which will have Thee for its principle and end. ] will watch over my defects, especially over those habitual ones, which most favor my inclinations, over those essential defects, which everybody perceives, and which I alone have not seen, because I have not watched sufficiently over my conduct, or which if I have known, I have excused by a thousand pretexts. I will watch over the employment of my time, to let no moment escape without fruit, because it is the means by which we purchase eternity, because there is not in my life a single instant, to which Thy mercy has not attached ON DEATH. 45 some special grace on earth, and destined some special glory in heaven. I will watch over the occasions of practising virtue to let none escape, that I ma} r not lose the infinite treasure of graces which they will accumulate for me, if I profit by them. I will take advantage of everything to go to Thee ; I will make use of the good and bad dispositions of nry body and mind, of the few or many talents which Thou hast confided to me, of all the events that happen upon earth either to me or to others. I will profit by everything to approach Thee and to unite myself incessantly to Thee. I will watch over temptations, that I may not suffer myself to be surprised by the enemy, who incessant^ goes about seeking to destroy me, that I may discover his pernicious designs and oppose them with invincible firmness. . I will watch over the use I ought to make of grace, in order to correspond with fidelity to its whole extent, because according to my holy founder, we reject all if we do not receive all. In fine I will watch over my whole self without relaxation, that I may ever be in readiness to quit this life, and appear before Thy tribunal, that I may not be surprised, and may always be ready, and in that state in which I would wish death to find me. THIRD DAY. FIRST MEDITATION. — ON DEATH. First Point. " In all thy works, remember thy last end, and thou wilt never sin. — Eccles, vii., 40. We deviate from our end by sin and the abuse of grace ; we approach it by the habitual thought of death. Death is the passage from this life to another, in which the soul is stripped of all that is earthly, and finds God alone, Who will be her eternal happiness or unhappiness, 46 ON DEATH. according to the good or bad use she shall have made of His law. As death is certain, so is the hour uncertain ; and yet, we live in a criminal security. By a fatal contradiction we comfort ourselves about death, which is surely most certain, as if we believed it uncertain ; and in re- gard to the time of death, and the state in which it will find us, concerning both of which are most ignorant, we act as if we were fully informed. The thunderbolt is about to strike us, our conscience is sullied with sin, and we are tranquil. We would not wish to die in our present state, and we do not labor to quit it. We are warned that we shall reap only what we have sown, and our works are not more worthy of God. Still more, the thought of death, so necessary for the regulation of life, is regarded with horror ; to give oneself up to it is considered melancholy. A true religious deplores this fatal conduct of the children of the world. As she aspires only to the pos- session of her God, and has more cause to desire than to fear the breaking of life's chains, she never forgets the last hour which is to fix her eternal fate. All her thoughts turn towards this term. She often looks at the dust upon which she walks and says to herself, behold what I will become. She often interrogates herself upon what might disquiet her at that last hour, and sets things in order. She retires to rest in the disposition in which she would wish to die, and dies daily, that she may have nothing to do at the hour of death. After the example of Jesus Christ, she does not disquiet herself as to the time, place or circumstances of her death. ^The best time is when God wills it. Whilst awaiting His will, she performs all her actions, as she would wish to perform the last of her life. She judges of things as she would at her death ; not according to the claims of her senses, but by the light of Faith. Thus, securing her salvation by -her works, she desires her end rather than fears it ; she looks upon the tomb as a crib from which, dying to earth, she will pass to heaven. If death, always frightful to human nature, excites some alarms in her heart, they are mitigated by her ardent desires of being united to God in a blessed eternity. She fears the judgments of God, because her ON DEATH. 47 frailties appear to her enormous ; but she earnestly wishes to possess Him, to love Him. Humility forms her fears, but love inflames and excites her desires, and this love triumphs over her alarms. She is continually ready to make to God this last sacrifice, which is to crown all the others she has made through life with so much generosity. If death strikes suddenly, this true religious dies as man would have died in the state of innocence ; from life she passes to glory. If death comes slowly she profits by. time. She learns with pleasure, that she is soon to go into the house of the Lord. With what respect, faith and confidence, she receives the helps of the Church ! Numberless graces fix her immutably in the love of Jesus Christ crucified, Whom she has before her eyes. Like Him, the remembrance of what she has done to obey and glorify God, and the certainty of finding in her Judge a Father sustains her. If the judgments of God frighten her, the state of her divine Saviour, abandoned on the Cross, strengthens her. If the demon makes the last effort to drive her to despair, faith, the goodness of God, the merits of her Saviour, and her own actions reassure her. The past, the present and the future all give her answers of life. In the past, she sees, with joy and gratitude, the gifts of God, her labors and victories. In the present she enjoys the most perfect peace, the fruit of her fidelity to all her duties. The future offers her only crowns ; she hopes in her God, Whom she has faithfully loved and served. She is ready to remit her soul into the bosom of her divine Spouse, to be there happily consumed, holily purified in the flames of an eternal love. In these senti- ments, she receives from Jesus Christ a foretaste of the felicity which awaits her ; her faith casts a last lustre before it is lost in the light of glory ; her hope becomes more lively at the sight of the blessing she is about to possess ; and her charity is consummated by being united to that of the blessed. What has she to regret? The world ? It has been to her a strange land ; she knew it only to sacrifice it; she spoke of it only to condemn its maxims ; she was seen by it, only through necessity. Does she regret her family ? She had separated herself from them, saw them only through duty, and spoke of 48 ON DEATH. them only to God. Her friends? She has had true ones only in religion, in God and for God. I leave yon, she says to them in dying, as Jesus Christ said to His Apostles shortly before His death, but it is only for a time, we will soon be reunited never to be separated. Does she regret her body? She has reduced it to servi- tude. Does she regret her life? Jesus Christ alone has been her life. What then can death take from her? She has broken not only the ties that attached her to exterior objects, but also those which might have attached her to herself. Death is then a gain for her ; far from taking anything from her, it gives her all. It delivers her from her fears, removes her from danger, sets her at liberty, terminates her sufferings, commences her happiness. Who will give me, she exclaims with trans- port, who will give me the wings of a dove to fly away and rest in the bosom of my God ! Her joy is imprinted on her countenance. Her perfect serenity dispels all the fear ordinarily inspired by the agonizing. We see there the presage of her approaching happiness. She expires in the kiss of the Lord ; hers is the death of the just. But what a different fate, I will not say for one who has constantly dishonored God and her state, and led a scandalous life, but for one who has been tepid, negligent, and dissipated, whose relaxed life seemed to say to God, that His yoke was too hard, and His burden too heavy ; who did not remember her last hour ; performed her duties only in part ; dragged her cross instead of carrying it ; made no efforts to overcome herself in anything ; who, in a word, lived in too natural k manner. At this decisive moment, the bandage of self-love is torn from her eyes ; truths of faith upon which she so carelessly meditated ap- pear to her in their full light. She now feels the obligation of her vows, her rules and her observances, so much the more as she hitherto sought to avoid their severity. She sees things in quite a different light. What she regarded as scruples, she now looks upon as essential faults. She sees crime where she scarcely perceived doubt, and doubt, in what she believed a virtue. In a long time spent in re- ligion, perhaps she does not find a shadow of solid virtue, scarcely faitli and the fear of God. Her confessions do ON DEATH. 49 not comfort her. Her frequent communions frighten her. She has lived without reflecting on her errors, and she now perceives only a frivolous amusement in her life, vain occupations, sins without repentance, loss of time without reparation, idleness, indifference, and neglect of God. How will she expiate so many faults, so many omissions, and, above all, such unpardonable tepidity in the service of Jesus Christ. Everything serves to increase her pain. A past, lost and irreparable ; a present, too short ; a future without end ; what she ought to have done, and what she has done ; the debts she has contracted, and the Judge before Whom she must appear ; the account she has to render, and the sentence she must hear; troubled and overwhelmed, her tepidity is still the same ; the interests, the glory and the love of God touch her but feebly. Her mind and her heart are torn by turns with the fear of God, yet without the vivacity of love ; by a separation from a small number of friends, as tepid and irregular as herself ; by regrets for her family from whom she was separated in body, but not in effect ; by the dissolution of a hody for which she had pro- cured all she could without grievous sin ; and by the loss of a life, which she had endeavored to render easy and agreeable, although a penitential life in itself. Thus the soul of a tepid and relaxed religious falls into the hands of an outraged father, a dishonored spouse, an implacable judge, an inflexible God. Oh what a death ! How dreadful ! Second Point. Would it be too much, O my God! to put a constraint upon myself, all my life, to avoid such a fate as an un- happy end, and to purchase the peace of the just at my last hour ! I know that I shall die, and that each instant of my life may be the last. I know that in dying, I shall die to everything, and that everything shall die to me. I know that upon the moment of my death depends a whole eternity, and that I shall die as I have lived. I know that I will be forever, what I will be at the moment of death, a friend or an enemy of God. How is it, that the salutary thoughts which induced me to embrace the religious state 50 ON DEATH. do not render me more regular, more mortified, more humble, more charitable, in a word more religious? Why do they not lead me to die in anticipation to all those things of which death must necessarily deprive me? To embrace without reserve, the virtues which a sudden death will not leave me time to practise? To be always in the state, in which I should wish to die, aud to secure a holy death by a holy life? May Thy grace, O my God, enable me to quit the dreadful state of tepidity in which I have so long languished, and the danger of which I now see more clearly than ever. What a frightful position, for me whom Thou has so liberally favored, is that with which Thou dost threaten me, to punish m} T ingratitude and the abuse I have made of Thy graces ! What more frightful, what more terrible than these alarms, these troubles to which Thou dost abandon a tepid and relaxed religions ! Alas ! have I then left the world, only to be at death as uncer- tain of my salvation as I have been all my life? Have I voluntarily buried myself in the cloister, as in a species of tomb, only to have more horror, more fear of that which will one day receive me? Have I em- braced a state which is in itself a continual preparation for death, only to be less prepared, more surprised at that moment? Will I have had so often before my eyes, the consoling spectacle of many of my sisters, so fervent in those moments which terminated their exile, only to have those, who will assist at my death-bed, witnesses of my tepidity and scandalous negligence. Let me die the death of the just, and let my last end be like theirs. But, in vain will I wish to end my life like the saints, if I do not think of sanctifying myself as they did. Let me live then, O Lord, the life of the just. May I live as a penitent that I may die as a saint. Ah ! whatever it may cost me, whatever vain pretexts that nature may allege, I will no longer live to myself, nor for myself : nothing shall turn me aside from Thee. My heart, my mind shall all be for Thee, and my soul surrounded by two eternities, will no longer hesitate between heaven and hell ; it will secure its salvation by good works. I will detach myself from all to lix on Thee all my affections, for it is into Thy hands I must fall when all others will abandon me. ON DEATH. 51 My whole life shall flow, little by little, drop by drop, so to say, into Thy adorable bosom, until it be lost in Thee and not in creatures. The quality of victim is insepa- rable from the title I bear; I have neglected its duties. In the future I will fulfil them more perfectly, and my wretched self love, which has almost destroyed the holo- caust 1 have offered Thee of my heart, shall henceforth be enchained until it receives from Thy hand the stroke of death. To accomplish these engagements, wjiich I renew to-day with Thee, my God, the thoughts of death shall continually occupy nry mind ; and that this thought may make more impression on me, I will often go, in spirit, to the place where I am to repose after death. I will descend, in spirit, into the tombs of those who have preceded me, and who, sleeping there, teach me to die to all, that I may find nothing new in the dark region which awaits me. Finally, O my God, I take the resolution to live hence- forth, as one who may die at any moment ; to live no longer, but as one ready to die, or already dead. First. Not to lose the precious remembrance of death, I will each hour, say to myself, this moment, wherein so many are surprised by death, is perhaps the last for me, and on this moment may depend my eternity. Second. I will perform each of my actions as if it was really to terminate my life ; I will fulfil my duties, as though I had immediately to render an account of them. I will often recall the example of a holy religious, who, constantly faithful to this practice, said: "if I knew I should die on leaving this recreation, I would not leave it to go elsewhere," or rather, I will imitate the example of another saint, who exercised himself unceasingly in dying. Every month, or at least once a } T ear, I will take a day to accomplish all that I should do at the last moment of my life. On that day I will make an exact review of my conscience, a fervent communion, with all the acts which belong to the reception of holy Viaticum ; I will recite the prayers of Extreme Unction, those of the agonizing, those which the Church offers for the dead, and those which are fitted for the dying. I will go, in spirit, before the tribunal of God. I will try to reply to His 52 ON THE LAST JUDGMENT. reproaches, or rather I will hear my terrible sentence, and will return to my occupations as one restored, by the grace of God, from the gates of hell to do penance. Third. I will live as one dead, I will place myself in the state of a corpse that is not yet buried, that takes no interest in what passes around it, that is insensible to all ceremonies, receives honors with indifference and is moved by nothing ; that is to say, I will annihilate my powers by the most perfect detachment ; I will repulse all that can divide my heart and affections ; I will accus- tom myself to have only necessary intercourse with creatures ; T will despoil myself of all that is not strictly necessary. If 1 find it difficult to attain this degree of virtue, I will say to myself; " will not the joy of dying without pain be sufficient recompense for the pain needed to attain it?" I will solicit the grace of my Saviour and Model, Who will support my efforts ; I will animate myself by the examples, and these words of my holy founder: "I desire but few things in this world, and these few I desire but little." THIRD DAY. SECOND MEDITATION. — ON THE LAST JUDGMENT. First Point. " Arise ye dead and come to judgment!" Happy the religious who animates herself to combat and to victory, bj r the remembrance of the angel's trumpet, which is to summon all men before the tribunal of the sovereign Judge, there to receive the reward of their works. More happy she, who, without stopping at the terrors of the last judgment, ofteu thinks of the things upon which she will be judged ! On that dreadful day, the principal matter of the examen will be the graces and means of salvation, that have been lavished on her. God will demand an account of the precious gift of her voca- ON THE LAST JUDGMENT. 53 tion, of that talent which was confided to her, of the in- spirations and lights which she has received, of those Rules and Constitutions which should have placed between her and sin an infinite distance, and of all those good sentiments and movements, which urged her to tend to perfection. He will demand an account of His body and blood, which so often nourished her ; of her prayers, and readings, and especially her vows ; of that secret remorse which He, Himself, excited in her heart, to bring her back to Him, when she had gone astray. What can a soul answer, who has acted according to her caprices, and not according to her duties ; who has abused so great a predilection ; who has drawn no fruit from an approach to the sacraments ; who instead of holy readings has made but useless ones ; who has always given favorable inter- pretations to the transgression of her vows; who has omitted, or done badly, the good she was inspired to do, neglected the virtues she should have practiced, wasted the graces she should have put to profit, lost the merits she should have accumulated ? What shall she think when, enlightened by a divine light, she sees so many sins com- mitted with deliberation, or through a wilful ignorance ; so many faults because of her little vigilance ; her quickness in judging, suspecting, speaking ; so many habits contract- ed by self-love, humor, curiosity, vanity, delicacy and sensibility ; so many evils caused by her example, and her discourses ; so many actions performed only through policy, fear and human respect. What will she say when she sees so much vanity in her words, so much tepidity in her prayers, laxity in her duties, eagerness in her zeal, natural compassion in her charity, moderation in her tem- perament and not in her heart, silence of pure policy in her sufferings, of ill humor in her solitude and above all so many relapses into faults? The day will come when all her illusions will be dissipated, when an exact and enlight- ened justice will show her to herself. What will she think when all her sins shall appear before her in all their enormitv? The eye of her Judge will penetrate to the very bottom of her heart, and as St. Paul says, to the very marrow of her soul, to lay open by a minute detail, 54 ON TEE LAST JUDGMENT. thought by thought, desire by desire, intention by inten- tion, word by word, and day by day, hour by hour, iustant by instant. Then each of her actions will be presented to her with all their particular circumstances ; all will be recalled, without the whole diminishing in any manner the real extent of each part. Humiliating reve- lation, overwhelming manifestation made by God, that is to say a sovereign Avenger, Whom mercy will no longer accompany, Whom compassion will no longer touch ; in Whom all is infinite, without limit and without measure, — anger and wrath as well as goodness and mercy ! What will be the terror of this religious soul before a God, Who sees blemishes in His angels? Ah! if she were then mortal she would wither away with fear. No more mercy ; now is the commencement of the im- mortal reign of an eternal and rigorous justice. The very sight of that infinitely amiable Jesus, Whom she would not and can no longer Jove, will be more insup- portable than the torments which await her. As long as she lived, she could appeal from His justice to His love, but now His love yields to justice. From Saviour, brother, friend and Spouse, Jesus Christ now becomes her acuser, her witness and her judge, God had erected in her heart a tribunal composed of reason, to judge an interior sentiment to denounce and depose, truth to con- vince and pronounce. This tribunal was in her a portion of the divine nature and an emanation of eternal justice. It will remove the bandage from her eyes, will enlighten her on her disorders and will summon her against herself. What more deplorable than to^be accused, recognized by one's self as guilty and inexcusable before a God sovereignly irritated, without defence before an omnipotent and avenging God? But what new kind of testimony will be that of this religious soul against herself? Unanswer- able evidence ! Nothing can elude it, because it will be free from all prejudice; it cannot be corrupted by any passion. Cruel evidence ! it cannot exculpate her on the plea of ignorance ; she could not be ignorant without crime, of that which she could not commit or omit without crime. Nor can it excuse her on the »plea of 02? THE LAST JUDGMENT. 5o weakness. She would have been able to overcome, had not her tepidity prevented her from combating. Nor on the plea of assistance ; millions of pagans, an infinity of christians have had neither as powerful, nor as frequent aid ; nor on the plea of example, custom, or human re- spect ; these pretexts, far from excusing her, will render her still more guilty. Inexcusable in her own eyes, she will turn to God, Who is about to sentence her, to take venge- ance in His own hands. This God is to be avenged, and avenged as God. He can be so only by a judgment formed by her against herself. What greatness in God, but what bitterness for this soul ! What greatness in God ; He will turn His will, and force Himself to recognize that He is no longer free to pardon her, that He can no longer show her mercy. What bitterness for this soul ! Although the terrible judgment that she feels is suffi- ciently justified in itself, she will also be constrained to justify it in measure, and at the time that she will endure its rigors and feel its blows ; she would oppose the grace that God would wish to give her if she could ; she will animate His vengeance and execute upon herself His sentence of death. This is not all; given up to the divine vengeance, she would in vain call for help, every- thing would be deaf to her voice ; all is leagued against her. The voice of Jesus Christ alone is heard. Ob- stinate sinner, will He say to her; I was silent, and 3-011 were emboldened by my silence ; I waited for you and yon despised Me ; behold, the time of my vengeance is come ! Acknowledge at last, what has been my patience towards you ; you have abused it ; it must judge you to-day and avenge Me ! Look at this Cross, still stained with M}' blood ! Behold the proof of My love and your ingratitude ! Behold the glorious instrument by which I wished to save you, and which is about to become the judge of your reprobation ! This blood-stained Cross opened for you the way to heaven by combats and constraints. You had placed yourself under its standard, but like a coward, you deserted and preferred hell. I had purchased }^ou at the price of My blood. But you contemned Me. Put your hands iu these wounds, measure their depth, and see what My love- has made Me endure 56 ON THE LAST JUDOMEWt. for you. Your salvation should have flowed from them, since it was for you that I suffered them. You refused to draw from these sacred sources; now they cry out for vengeance against you. To manifest to you the immense love of My heart, to conduct you to that fountain of all graces, love had opened for you My sacred side ; but in spite of all the efforts of My tenderness, in spite of all My threats, you did not choose to enter it. Hard and unfeeling soul ! This heart shall be closed against you forever. You shall pay for My blood, My life, My death, M} T body, My soul, My word, My graces and My sacraments, which you have abused. You shall pay for them by your own death in eternal fire. Immortal object of execration to My angels and My saints, for the reprobate, and even for the demons themselves, you shall be eternally without love for Me ; you are no longer mine, and I will no longer be your God. I wished to be your felicity, I will be your eternal uuhappiness. You would not burn with My love, } r ou shall be devoured by the flames of hell. Hell was not prepared for you, but for the demons ; you have had the same heart, you shall have the same fate. /Second Point. What a sentence, O my God ! How shall I bear to hear it? Yet, if I do not reform, I shall draw it upon myself, by the tepid life I am leading, as well as by my resistance to grace, and my little advancement in virtue notwith- standing Thy inspirations, by the little profit I have drawn from the sacraments, by my vanity, dissipation, irregulari- ty ; by my many falls and continual relapses. Ah ! Lord, enlighten me with that bright light, which will come forth from Thy throne on the great day of Thy vengeance, that guided by this divine light, I may now purify myself by the most sincere penance ; grant that I may avoid the inflexible rigor of Thy justice, which condemns without appeal, and punishes without delay, by appealing to the tenderness of Thy mercy, whilst it is yet open to me. I will fear that terrible day, that I may prepare for it, before it arrives ; I will prepare for it, that I may not fear it when it comes. That I may not then dread Thy presence I will ON THE LAST JUDGMENT. 5? Seek it now. That I may not fear Thy Cross then, I will now carry and love it. To spare myself the confusion of Thy judgment, I will enter unceasingly into the secrecy of my heart ; I will weigh and regulate ^11 its affections. I will condemn and punish myself unsparingly at present, that hereafter I may not hear Thy terrible sentence. I will familiarize myself with the thought of Thy vengeance, and I will use it as a check to avoid sin, and as a means to live and breathe only for Thee. Yes, I will live continually as if my bodily eyes habitually beheld Thee in the terrors of Thy justice. I will retire apart, as did Jeremias, to fill my mind with the remembrance of Thy vengeance, and to learn to appease Thy wrath by my penance. Penetrate my heart with this fear, O my God ! may it not be in me the effect of scrupulosity, and conse- quently inactive ; may it be filial and active ; practical and effective ; fervent and animated by confidence. Oh awful moment, which shall decide my eternity ; when nothing shall speak in my favor, but my works ; when I shall find in my Father and Spouse, only an inflexible Judge ; when I shall be enlightened and, as it were, invested with Thy light, Lord ! What shall I then answer to Thy accusations? Alas! like that man, whom the Gospel represents to us at the tribunal of the Great Master, who could answer the reproaches made him only by a profound silence, I will have nothing to reply, O my God ! Or rather, like the wicked servaut, who wishing to answer, spoke only for his own condemnation, I will find, even in my answers, the matter of most humiliating confusion. In this overwhelming state to whom can I have recourse? Without advocate, without defence, without protector, m} r only resource would be the power of annihilation. But Thou, great God, will preserve me to serve as a victim of Thy anger. No more temples wherein to pray ; no more sacraments to purify, or priests to reconcile me. 1 shall find no angel to conduct me, no intercessor to defend me, no Mother of mercy to obtain my pardon. All the saints will praise Thee for exercising Thj r justice. My holy founders will rise up against and reproach me. Many seculars will be compared with me, who in the world have been more virtuous ; pure souls in the midst of corruption, 58 02? THE LAST JCDGJfEtf?. profoundly recollected amidst embarrassments am] cares ; depriving themselves of what was even necessary, to give it to the poor ; above all human respect ; resigned in the most terrible trials ; regular in their devotions ; detached from everything in the midst of riches ; so simple and docile without vows ; so penitent without sin ; so many christians, in a word, who have been poorer in spirit, more chaste, more charitable, more religious than I, will be compared with me and rise up in judgment against me. I shall be compared with a multitude of saints of my own state, and particularly of my own order. Their meekness, humility, patience and regularity will be shown in contrast with mine. I had the same vows, constitutions, rules, trials, helps, exercises of piet} T , and the same means of becoming perfect which they had. What an overwhelming confusion for me ! O my soul ! have 3 t ou ever well understood these truths? Meditate on them unceasingly, to prevent a judgment so enlightened, so equitable, so dreadful ! What Lord ! to approach Thee only to be eternally repulsed ! to appear before Thee only to hear the sentence of my condemnation ! Ah, Lord ! rather save a soul who acknowledges herself guilty; a soul, whom Thou hast redeemed with Thy blood, and to whom Thou hast already applied its fruits in a very especial manner. Make me worth}' to hear these consoling words which Thou wilt address to the truly religious souls on the day of judgment : " Come ye blessed of Aiy Father, and possess the kingdom which I have prepared for you." Ah ! what will be the joy of the fervent soul ! What wij/1 be her gratitude ! If she could then feel any regret, it would be, not to have conform- ed herself still more to her divine Model ; not to have loved Thee enough, dear Lord, not to have immolated herself more generously. How great art Thou, O Lord, in Thy rewards ; how magnificent in Thy saints. What is more capable of animating me to the most austere practices of religious life than the sight of Thy mercy, so liberal to Thy friends. Can I then find any penance too hard, or virtue too difficult, to obtain for myself the advantage of having Thee for Father during life, for Saviour on the day of Thy vengeance, and as eternal Remunerator after that judgment. ON HELL. 59 THIRD DAY. THIRD MEDITATION. — ON HELL. First Point. " And the smoke of their torments shall ascend up forever and ever; neither have they any rest day or night." — Apoc, xiv. 11. Nothing in nature, can give the least idea of the tor- ments of hell. It is only through mercy that God afflicts the sinner on earth ; in hell, it is justice alone, which exer- cises upon him the whole extent of its power. Here, the short duration of life gives a hope of the approaching end of pain ; there, a never ending eternity fills the unhappy victim of the wrath of God with a continually renewed despair. O eternity ! who can sound thy abyss ! O hell ! who can number thy evils ! A devouring fire, an avenging God, a gnawing worm, and this forever ! In the deepest part of the earth, it is, as in a vast pool of sulphur and bitumen, kindled by the wrath of the Almighty ! St. John says, they are buried alive, who die id the disgrace of God. In an instant, the fire insinuates itself through all their pores, and their bodies are penetra- ted with it, as iron in the furnace. It is an immaterial fire, more penetrating, because it is the instrument of the anger of a God, Who in kindling it, proposed to manifest His justice with as much splendor as He manifested His mercy in becoming man ; of drawing from crime a vengeance proportioned, in some manner, to His greatness ; and of repairing the profanation of His blood, which the sinner has trodden under foot. It is a fire, which He as God, has kindled to punish His enemies in which as is seen the finger of His justice, the strength of His hand and the omnipotence of His arm. It is a fire, whose supernatural activity preserves the body whilst tormenting it ; which burns without consuming. For this it is compared in the Gospel to salt, because it preserves in place of destroying, repairs instead of dissolving, and keeps the vic- tim, who is its food, in a constant state of suffering. It is a 60 ON BELL. fire, which will be applied to the body of each reprobate with a spirit of discernment proportioned to the nature and greatness of his crimes ; which, fed by the hand of an irritated God, will always burn without ever losing its ardor or its rigor, without ever beiug ex- tinguished, without dividing, without giving light, whose avenging qualities will not only penetrate the body, but will act upon the soul, its powers, and faculties. It will penetrate the very substance of body and soul, in a region of horror and darkness, where everything will be seen that can cause horror to the sight, frightful spectres that fill with terror. These victims of divine vengeance will suffer all imaginable pain. Every part of their bodies will be tormented at the same time. God will add to the punishment of fire, that of despair, bowlings, rage, gnash- ing of teeth, and each sense will have its particular tor- ments. If these unhappy victims could love God, hell would be less insupportable. But no : hell would become a para- dise, if the delights of divine love could be tasted there. St. Lawrence appeared insensible in the midst of flames, because he loved much. But in the excess of her fright- ful pain, the lost soul will turn to God. Instead of those sweet words, which He usually answers to the afflicted ; " Have patience, I see all, and will reward you," she will hear only these : " Why do you call on Me, I am not your God. Call me your enemy, for I am, and ever will be so." Ah! exclaims St. Augustine, give me a heart that has once loved God, it will understand and feel what I say, give me Wen a soul possessed by a creature and it will comprehend ! God will then make Himself be known and felt as He is. The soul will wish to love Him, and she cannot ; she will wish to hate Him, and her heart will be torn ; in blaspheming Him, she will be inconsolable that she cannot love Him. St. Chrysos- tom says that this is the peculiar torment of hell ; always to wish to love God, and never to love Him ; alwa}'s to wish to possess Him, and never to possess Him ; always to wish to be delivered from His vengeance, and never to be freed ; always to wish that which never will be, and never to wish what will be for all eternity. What despair ! To ON HELL. 61 have lost God, to be separated from Him is but little felt by the mind weighed down by this mortal body, and by the carnal heart attached to the earth. But after death, the soul of the reprobate, delivered from her corporal prison, will return by a natural and violent inclination, towards her principle, her centre, and her end. Her own weight will carry her with rapidity towards her Author. But stopped by her sins, God will draw her with oue hand, to make her suffer more cruelly, and with the other, will repulse her with indignation. On one side, this soul will rush foward towards God, and exclaim in her transports ; "Where is my God? What has become of my God?" On the other hand, God will reply " there is no God for you ; the God of the universe is no longer your God." Then turning all her rage against herself, she will again exclaim : " but if there is no God for me, why these tran- sports for Him, which rend me? Why do I not return to my first nothingness?" In vain will she seek to break the bonds which keep her in the flames, to seek either her God or death. She cannot escape from that abode of tears, where she will find only her avenger, and continually new torments. From this will arise execrations and fury against a God, Whom she will detest as her enemy. Eter- nally she will curse Him, Whom she can neither destroy nor love. The more she will feel herself drawn by the charms of that divine Beauty, the more she will multiply her maledictions ; not being able to content her love, she will endeavor to satisfy her hatred. What greater horror than hell for a soul that had once belonged to God. If at least she could forget. But no : on the contrary, it is by this bitter remembrance of her dignity, that the hatred of the reprobate soul is augmented, because the image of God, ineffaceably engraven in her will, recall at every moment the merit and greatness of the object she has lost. She cannot forget during the course of ages, that the object of her hate ought naturally to be the object of her love. She will reproach herself eternally for having lost her God by her own fault, notwithstanding His graces, His patience, His mercy, and His blood shed for her ; this is properly the punishment of the religious soul 62 ON HELL. in hell. The hell of hells for her, is the thought, that she could have avoided hell and did not do so. The peculiar torment of a religious in hell will be the remembrance of the merit and grandeur of the object which she has lost. The idea of what her Saviour has done for her salvation will represent to her a rain of blood, that blood of Jesus Christ which flowed for her to the last drop transformed into a torrent of flames and wrath. I could have refrained from sin, and I did not, will she say. But having sinned, there was still a resource for me ; grace was offered me : everything concurred to my salvation. What abundant helps ! I was incessantly urged. Gcd Himself, my conscience, my superiors, my state, everything invited me ; so many others profited by the same means. Chosen souls of my God, you have been what I was ; religious as I was, why am I not what you are ? I could have been but am not, will never be, because I have not willed it. Ah ! Ye glorious predestined ! From the bottom of this gulf of fire, I see you seated upon thrones of glory. I even see amongst you the place and the crown that were prepared for me. I see you in the centre of happiness and I shall never have any other portion than hell and despair ! I have lost heaven ! I am in hell ! It is my own fault. But what completes my misery is, that it shall be eternal ! Sin has left so deep a stain upon my soul, that it cannot be effaced by the pains of eternity. Oh eternity ! whose moments will be ages, and whose ages will never finish ! Eternal Beauty ! never more shall I behold you ! Divine Lighty you have disappeared from me forever ! You leave me buried in the shades of eternal night. O God ! I am forever to be the object of Thy hatred ! To bear eternally the weight of Thy wrath ! After having been destined to possess Thee eternally, I am to be forever banished from Thy presence, and con- demned never to love Thee. Never to love Thee, O tender father, O liberal spouse, never to love Thee, and never, never to be loved by Thee ! Then, turning her rage against herself, because she knows that she is the authoress of her own misfortunes, she will seek anew to destroy herself ; she will endeavor to get out of the fire that surrounds her, but in vain. ON HELL. 63 Insurmountable obstacles stop her ; she will feel an in- visible but omnipotent hand that plunges her again and again in those devouring flames, and gives a new weight to the chains which hold her captive. At length, finding no resource but in her despair, she joins in the roarings and imprecations of the demons, her associates, and ail together, animated with hatred against God, turn upon each other, upon themselves, and in the bowlings of despair, curse God, curse themselves, and curse one another. Second Point. Here, O my God ! my mind wanders, my thoughts are confounded ; like David I am so troubled that I can no longer speak. How is it that these terrible truths have hitherto made so little impression on me. Oh avenging and eternal fires ! Hell ! Behold where I would already be, hadst Thou rendered me exact justice ; if Thou hadst not treated me according to Thy great mercy. Behold, where, perhaps, I will fall at this moment should I die suddenly, where I will one day be cast if I persevere in my faults ; for what will cause me to be buried, with so many others in the abyss ? — one mortal sin, and death in sin. Is mortal sin so difficult to commit, and are the surprises of death so extraordinary? What! my eternity depends on a moment, on a great number of little things, on a little more or a little less of time, a little more or less of delay, a little more or less of matter, or of consent to sin ; on a little more or less of sorrow, of contrition, of liberty, of reason, and I have thought so little of it ! I have occupied myself so seldom with it ; I have marked all my steps by great faults. A thousand and a thousand times have I deserved hell. O my God, Thou couldst, and Thou shouldst have cast me into the abyss, and Thou didst not. Thy goodness, O my God, has watched over me ; Thy arm has restrained me on the borders of the precipice. Thy justice demanded vengeance ; Thy mercy would not consent to it. This is not all. Not only wouldst Thou not destroy me, but notwithstanding my ingratitude, what hast Thou not done to save me? Thy patience still waits 64 OK HELL. for me ; Thy goodness seeks and watches over me ; Thy blood offers me the pardon of my sins ; Thy liberality dif- fuses upon me its lights. Even in this retreat, Thou mak- est known to me iu a more particular manner the eternal torments by which Thou wouldst punish the ungrateful. Thy wounded love would avenge itself, only to teach me to avoid sin, and to force me to love Thee by the fear of Thy justice. Who art Thou, O my God ! and who am I? What is my heart, that Thou shouldst so ardently desire to possess it? Is it then possible, that this heart, which has received from Thee life and an infinity of blessings ; that this heart, taught by its own experience and by Thy special grace, can find true happiness except in Thee alone ; that this heart, which Thou hast purchased by so many opprobriums, so man}' sufferings, which Thou hast made in so special a manner a partaker of the fruits of Thy death, which Thou hast led, as it were, by the hand into the sanctuary ; that this heart should not love Thee? Was it necessary, that so many motives for loving Thee should be given? Was it necessary, that to these motives, the fear of hell should be added? At the sight of these threats what am I to think of the desire Thou hast for me to love Thee ? By the immensity, the eternity of the punishments, which Thou preparest for my ingratitude, I conceive the immensity, the infinity of Thy desire, of Thy will for my salvation. Have I a heart if it is not moved by these reasons ? Oh how well calculated are the flames of hell, attentively meditated, to excite in a soul, the flames of divine love ! Afh Lord ! since, by an admir- able effect of Thy goodness, I am not now burning in the flames of hell, let me burn, let me be consumed by the fire of Thy love. Let my gratitude be eternal at the sight of Thy mercy, which has hitherto preserved me from an un- happy eternity. Like the youths, who were thrown into the furnace, and preserved from a temporal fire, I will invite all creatures to bless Thee for having spared me eternal punishments. I will praise Thee like David, for having drawn me from hell, and from the lowest depths of hell through an excess of Thy goodness. I should have been sacrificed to Thy anger, I will sacrifice myself now to Thy love. My tongue would have cursed Thee, it ON HELL. 65 shall bless Thee eternally. My body would have burned, without ever being consumed ; it shall be slowly consumed in Thy service. All creatures would have contributed to my punishment ; I will immolate them to Thy greatness. I will forget them, sacrifice them, and they shall aid me to go to Thee. I would have blasphemed Thee with the companions of my misfortune ; I will sing Thy praises, bless Thy holy name, and publish Tlry mercies with my sisters, and with all the souls devoted to Thy service. I will continually recall Who Thou art, what Thou dost merit, what Thou hast done for the most unworthy of Thy creatures. My punishment would have been eternal, my gratitude and love shall endure forever. I will be all Thine, all Thine through gratitude and fidel- ity. To strengthen myself in this resolution, I will, like St. Teresa and my holy founder, who made it a practice, often transport myself in spirit to the abj'ss, there to seek my place. Following the counsel of St. Bernard I will often descend into hell during life, that I may not go there after death. I will often think of the eternal privation of Thy presence which is, without doubt, the most cruel of all the torments a soul can endure, who is specially called to the happiness of possessing Thee eternally. I will recall without ceasing, that if among men the same pun- ishment is often the chastisement of one more or less criminal, it is not so before Thee. The pains of the repro- bate, although eternal in duration, will have limits more or less exteuded, accordiug as the sins will have been more or less numerous, the state more or less holy, the means of salvation and perfection more or less abundant. Conse- quently, the hell of the religious soul will not be that of the infidel, nor even of those of the world ; but a hell a thousaud times more cruel, where not only the ardor of the fire, the persecution of all creatures, the punishments of body and mind, the eternity of pains, and the pains of eternity, the privation of all good, the weight of all evil will be common to her with the demous, her associates ; but, still more than they, will she be tortured with the bitter regret of having lost Thee, Who wert more particular- ly her God. More enlightened than they on the greatness of her loss ; more consumed with desires for beatitude, and 66 (W THE VOW ^F CHASTITY. more furious against Thy avenging hand which has ban- ished her ; more divided than they between a natural and necessary love for Thee, and a free, voluntary hatred, she will be more acutely tormented in all the powers of her bod3*, soul and substance. These traits of Thy justice, Lord, will increase m}' fear and my vigilance. Henceforth there will be no attachment, no pleasure, no satisfaction that I will not sacrifice to Thy grace, Thy law and my vows. Weariness, disgust, dryness, infirmities, persecu- tions, dependence, regularity, labors, penance, mortifica- tion, fears real or imaginary, trials in the constant prac- tice of good, nothing will cost me. I will say to myself, what is this compared to hell where I should burn forever. Thus will I animate myself in the way of that perfection to which Thou hast called me, by the grace of predilection. Support my weakness, O divine Spouse ; purify me in Thy mercy, that I may avoid the wrath of Thy justice, which punishes without limits, and be not oppressed by the weight of Thy sanctity ! THIRD DAY. CONFERENCE. — ON THE VOW OF CHASTITY. " The unmarried woman and the virgin thinketh on the things of the Lord that she may be holy both in body and in spirit." — I Cor.vii.,34. / There is no vice that causes so many souls to fall into hell as impurity. This crime has so great, so singular an incompatibility with God, Who is purity by essence, that He has always punished it by the most signal vengeance In the early ages of the world, this thrice holy God, after having sworn that His spirit should no longer dwell with men given up to impure passions, accomplished His word by drowning the universe under the waters of the deluge, by purifying even the earth itself from the stains it had contracted. This is but a feeble image of the wrath which will animate Him during all ages, against this monster, ON THE VOW OF CHASTITY. 67 which He detests. Nothing sullied can enter the kingdom of heaven. Hell will be the portion of those who render themselves like the devils, whom the Scripture calls un- clean spirits ; of those, who, although they do not fall into the grossest disorders, render themselves guilty of impure and voluntary thoughts, desires or emotions. There is no virtue, therefore, more essential, and which is more danger- ously and easily wounded, than chastity. The least faults committed in this matter, when they are fully consented to, and when they are committed through a spirit of impurit} 7 , are mortal. But, if every voluntary sin against chastity is a mortal sin in all sorts of persons, in a religious soul it is not only a crime, but an adultery, because she has a Spouse, and this Spouse is a God, and a jealous God, and there exists between this God and the religious, an alliance sealed with a mutual promise, which is to last for all eternity. The faults which attack the purity of a religious, render her guilty of a mortal sin containing a double malice, which, on account of her vow, becomes a sacrilege. There are some cases in which a secular would commit only a venial sin as, for example yielding to certain levities, which are frequently committed in the world, even in presence of other persons. But in these a religious would sin mortally, on account of the scan- dal she would give, the wrong she would do both to religion and the sacred engagements she has contracted. How great, then, should be her care not to alter in anything her vow of chastity ! What exactitude in practising a virtue which re- quires so much ! A virtue which St. Francis of Sales says is fundamental in his order ! " It is not necessary," said he, " to declare to you how much you are obliged to practice it. for, in a word, you should live, breathe, and aspire only to and for your heavenly Spouse, in all sanctity and purity of mind, words, demeanor, actions, and by an angelic and immaculate conversation. What a happiness for you to observe voluntarily, even in this life, this pure chastity which the angels and saints necessarily observe in heaven." He desired that in quality of spouses of Christ and dwellers on Calvary, the sisters should be divested of all human desires and affections, as their divine Spouse was of the robe He wore when He arrived there ; that 68 ON THE VOW OF CHASTITY. being clothed one day in the white robe, they may "follow the lamb whithersoever He goeth." This desire of St. Francis of Sales is the will of Jesus Christ. The greatest privilege for those, to whom He has shown the mercy of separating them from the engagements of the world, is to have taken them, says St. Paul, from all that divides the heart, and to have left them no other care upon earth, but that of thinking of God, and of being employed in the things of God, to find iu this kind of life true sanctity. Their happiness and glory is not only to belong to Him by purity, but also to be His alone by the integrity of their heart. It is, in effect, to live in the flesh, whilst refusing everything to the flesh. It is to change, as it were, their own natures, by leading angelic lives. It is to cherish their state, full of spiritual sweetness and chaste pleasures, worth infinitely more than those they have sacrificed. What a consolation for a religious, and what thanks should she not render to her God, for having chosen her from all eteruity, to honor her with the glorious quality of His spouse ; for having united her to Himself, by bonds equally honorable and indissoluble, and for having drawn her from the corruption of the world, to give her a safe asylum, a sanctuary, where He has placed His throne, where He resides, and where He takes His delight in the purity which is so faithfully observed by her. There, beloved by her spouse, Who feeds among the lilies, she should endeavor to correspond to the honor which He does her, by applying herself to tighten the sacred bonds which attach her to Him ; to purify her heart more and more, in order to render it more capable of loving Him. Truly chaste, she should exchange love for love, extinguish a profane by a sacred fire. To love, she should unite fear, because chastity, that pure and precious virtue, is blighted by a single voluntary thought ; because she carries this treasure in a fragile vessel, and if it is in more safety in religion than in the world, it is not, however, without danger. In separating from the world she did not separate from herself ; and in herself she carries a domestic enemy, so much the more to be feared, as it is usually loved, nourished, and flattered. She should carefully avoid the snares laid for her and take all tho ON THE VOW OF CHASTITY. 69 more precautions, as no fault is light, when there is question of impurity ; lightness being but little excuse in this matter. But little generosity was necessary for her to pro- nounce the vow of chastity, but what vigilance fidelity to this engagement requires ! The tempter fails not to profit by the least access that is given to him. He seduces the heart when he is listened to, and what progress does he not effect in a short time, in the way of perdition. A com- placency, a thought, a desire, a look, an effusion of the heart, a curiosity, — what terrible conflagrations have been caused by these sparks ! A passion that is not entirely suppressed cannot suffer limits which it alwa3 T s finds too narrow ; it soon bursts the feeble bonds which restrain it. What cannot a rising inclination do in a weak and negli- gent heart? What bad fruits will not this root produce, if not promptly eradicated ! If this poison is preserved what infection will it not cause ? When this bad leaven enters the mass, it soon corrupts it. At first, this passion produces an infinity of reflections ; sometimes bitter, sometimes agreeable, and how often does it not bring sighs after a free state ? If these thoughts be listened to, there follows a certain weariness in the practice of piety ; a disgust for obedience ; relaxation in the things of God ; and in preparation for the divine mysteries ; in the f requen- tation of the Sacraments, and in reading holy books. Prayer, that heavenly manna, becomes insipid to her. The presence of the more exemplary is feared, their conversation wearies. There is not yet an open revolt against God ; this artful passion, not to appear such as it is in reality, covers itself with a borrowed veil. How much to be feared are the hidden sparks of this fire ! God Who has not yet abandoned this soul, seeks to withdraw her from her error, and gives her remorses of conscience and re- proaches of grace. More sensible to her loss than she is herself. He consents to it with pain, but will not force her heart. He desires she should love Him freely, therefore it is necessary that she should offer a kind of violence to His Heart, to oblige Him, as it were, in spite of Himself, to abandon her to her evil passions. But. once separated from God, into what an abyss does she not plunge ! 70 ON THE VOW OF CHASTlT?. What are not the fatal consequences of this passion which was almost imperceptible in its commencement, but so rapid in its progress? No more principles of virtue, no more sentiments of piety, no more remorse of conscience, no more heavenly lights, but blindness of mind, and hardness of heart ! If this impure soul does not lose faith, she has only a dead faith. Such is generally the frightful lot of a religious, who having been raised to the glorious quality of spouse of God, though unworthy of it, and having been, at the same time, ornamented with grace and with all the advantages that could elevate her baseness, and supply her deficiency, instead of being grateful to her divine Spouse, neglects her duties, and the obligations she is under to Him, dishonors Him and herself. Ah ! how many, according to the language of the Apostle, have commenced by the spirit and ended by the flesh! "An Angel transformed into a demon," says St. John Climacus, " is not more horrible than the soul of such a religious." To avoid so dreadful a misfortune, and to preserve purity in all its lustre, what should not a spouse of Christ do, who has acquired this august honor at the price of the blood of this man-God? Behold the advice which her holy foundress gives her; she should, in the first place, love chastity with her whole heart, as an infinitely amiable virtue, which by a solemn vow she has promised God to keep all her life, and she should abhor the opposite vice above everything that is most horrible ?n the world. She should be sincerely prepared in heart, to enter rather into a burning furnace, and suffer the most atrocious torments, than to permit the least blemish in that purity which is the ornament, the beauty, and the delight of chaste souls. Heaven is not farther from earth than should be all that can, ever so little, tarnish this virtue in her. She should be deeply penetrated with the sanctity of her state, and literally fulfil the obligations which it imposes on her of leading an angelic life. She should keep the powers of her soul in tranquillity and modesty, avoiding curiosity, and retrenching from the will a multi- plicity of desires, thus keeping it always in simplicity. She should compose the motions, gestures, and deport- Ok THE VOW OP CHASTITY. 71 ment of her body, says St. Chantal, avoiding two extremes which are levity, and a too affected manner. She should not allow herself any free or curious looks upon persons of the other sex. Her veil is her buckler; to raise it is to disarm herself, and to expose herself to her enemies without defence. She should watch over her imagination, her mind and her heart, not to suffer any impure thoughts or affections to enter. She should not allow in herself anything that does not breathe the odor of the greatest purity before men and angels. Above all, she should avoid those secular conversations, in which the world is spoken of, in which free or useless words are spoken, where gravity and propriety are often lost. In a word, she should be chaste in everything, chaste in her eyes by the modesty of her looks ; in her ears, by her fidelity in turning them away from all improper discourses ; in her lips, by her reserve in speaking ; in her hands, by her purity of action ; in her feet, by the modesty of her walk ; in her deport- ment, by the composure of all her members, in which nothing should appear, free or unbecoming ; in her mind, by the purity of her thoughts ; in her heart, by the sanctity of her desires ; finally, she should be chaste by pure and spotless manners. Chastity should not be in her a con- stitutional or philosophical virtue, which consists in abstaining from the vices opposed to this virtue, be- cause one has no inclination to them, or because they are contrary to reason. A religious should practise purity from higher motives ; to make to God a sacrifice of her flesh, as well as of her mind ; to glorify Him in her body as well as in her soul ; to prepare for Jesus Christ, an agreeable abode; in a word, to unite herself more intimately to God and to imitate Him more closely. In order to practise this virtue of chastity with perfec- tion, a religious must not only abstain from the pleas- ures directly opposed to this virtue, but also from those of all the other senses. Purity must elevate her above all sensible pleasures, above all affections. It must make her enter, as much as possible, the state in which the flesh of Jesus Christ was, after His resurrection, insen- 72 on the vow Of ciiASTifV. sible to all the pleasures that are derived from objects here below, the state in which the bodies of the saints will be, when elevated in glory ; a state resembling that of the angels, those substances separated from matter, and incorruptible ; finally, the state of purity and im- mortality, with which she herself will be clothed, after the end of ages. To attain to this what means should she employ? Mortification, humility, prayer, obedience and flight from occasions. In vain will she hope to be chaste, if she does not reduce to servitude, by abstinence, fastings, watchings, labor, and all the austerities prescribed by the rule, a flesh always rebellious to the spirit. A hard, pain- ful, and laborious life is the support of chastity ; an easy, sensual, and idle life is its destruction. St. Francis of Sales says, that only the salt and myrrh of mortification can prevent this sinful flesh from corrupting. To morti- fication, humility must be joined. She must continually acknowledge, at the feet of her God, that this virtue is above her strength, and that He alone can give it to her. Consequently, she should incessantly ask it of Him, and subject her spirit to her superiors, to render herself worthy, that Jesus Christ Himself may subject her flesh to His spirit. Above all, she should avoid occasions, because it is only by flight that she can gain the victory. She should avoid all frequent visits, all marks of par- ticular friendship, for it is impossible for them not to cool, if they do not divide her heart ; nothing cools divine love so soon as particular friendships, and nothing is more dangerous in its consequences. She should distrust her own heart, lest it betray her ; banish from it all sen- sible attachments, and never suffer it to contract a parti- cular friendship, under any pretext whatever, even the most specious, as are the direction and the desire of aiding souls to advance in perfection ; how easy it is to pass from a spiritual to a natural affection. From the same principle, she cannot fear too much that too human attachment, which, under pretext of piety and spiritual need, is so easily conceived and nourished for a confessor. She should avoid having with him those long and frequent conferences, in which, at least much time is lost and ON THE VOW OF CHASTITY. 73 occasion given to our neighbor for murmuring and disedi- fication. To strengthen herself on this point, she should always remember what St. Teresa relates of herself. God made known to her, that an attachment to her director, which she thought was innocent, would have been an ob- stacle not only to her perfection, but also to her salvation, and He even showed her the place in hell, which she would have had on account of it, had it not been broken. Notwithstanding all these precautions, which St. Francis of Sales and St. de Chantal require, God sometimes permits the religious soul to suffer the most grievous and humiliating temptations, either to exercise her virtue, to increase her merit, to excite her vigilance, or to remedy a secret pride in the recesses of her heart. This soul should then humble herself without being troubled or dis- quieted. She should be persuaded that our Lord will not permit her to be tempted above her strength, but that He will draw His own glory and her advantage from her temptations, purify her even from her involuntary impuri- ties, fortify her in her weakness and the revolts she experiences in spite of herself, and which she vigorously combats. What is in the mind, the imagination, and the senses, how impure soever it may appear, does not sully the heart, as long as it displeases it ; only the will can render the soul guilty. A propensity to evil, is not a sin ; it may become an exercise of virtue, especially if the soul apply herself, to practice abandonment, fidelity, and con- stancy ; abandonment to surfer ; fidelity to support her state ; constancy to persevere in her duty. The safest way of resisting in these circumstances is not to enter, through a spirit of scrupulosit}^, into a minute examination, which would increase the danger, and impress, in a more lively manner, the evil objects on the imagination. The shortest way to withdraw from the temptation is to disengage oneself promptly from the representations and sentiments, by suffering them to pass, as if we did not perceive them, and not to examine or repulse them positively, lest we give them more strength to tempt violently. The con- tempt we have for them diminishes by degrees their images and remembrance ; the will, which has not con- sented, is strengthened in the inviolable resolution of 74 02t TEE EAPPIXESS OF HE A VEtf. taking no pleasure in them, and in her horror of them ; the soul is afterwards fortified by prayer, the mind by good thoughts, the heart by holy affections and the love of God ; thus temptations are gradually weakened by the mercy of God, and calm succeeds the storm. FOURTH DAY. FIRST MEDITATION. ON THE HAPPINESS OF HEAVEN. First Point. " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man, what things God hath prepared for them that love Him." — 1 Cor. ii., 9. A powerful means for a religious, who wishes to break every tie that attaches her to sin, to the world and to herself, is to consider for what she is destined after this life, and how contemptible are the objects of her attach- ment, when compared with what she hopes for in the future. God, Who drew her soul from nothingness, could, without doubt, annihilate her, for it does not require more power to make nothing out of something, than to make something out of nothing. But God has revealed to her the immortality of her soul ; He has assured her that, after a deep sleep, her ashes shall be awakened and the same body, which now serves as a dwelling for her soul, shall be restored to her, to be/eternally associated in her fate. She had a beginning, but she shall never have an end. All that strikes her senses, all that surrounds it, the world and what composes it shall be no more, or, at least, it will so change its form and figure as to be no longer recognized. It will fall again into its ancient chaos ; but God and her soul shall remain the same forever ; their years shall never fail. She should, therefore, look upon herself as a stranger in this world. There is for her no fixed and permanent abode upon earth, her home is in the bosom of God, and shall last eternally. To remember ON THE HAPPINESS OF HEA YEN. 75 this truth incessantly, the ancient patriarchs did not build houses. They lived in camps all their lives, and, says the Apostle, wandered from one province to another, that they might remember that this was not their home. They expected a permanent city, of which God Himself was to be the foundation. They desired it constantly and sighed for it from afar. Their language corresponded to their sentiments and actions. " Thus," said St. Peter to the primitive Christians, " should you think, live, and act." Do not, therefore, allow your heart to form any desire as regards time. It was with a view to imitate these patriarchs and first Christians, that the holy found- ers of our Order established the annual changes of cells, furniture, etc., that obedience ordains, so that, thinking of heaven, a religious should consider herself as an exile upon earth, and become insensible to terrestrial things. Does this contempt of all that passes away require her not to apply herself to anything else? No, even the spirit of her Institute is opposed to this ; but, it is to teach her to use the things of earth as if she used them not, without eagerness or attachment. The thought of heaven does not prevent the necessary application which even her Rule prescribes, but it moderates that great activity, that intoxication of action, so to say, which would divert her attention from God and solid things. It reminds her that she must do everything through duty, and her duty only, because it is the Will of God. It animates her as much as passion would, but with a purer and more lasting flame. What, in fact, is more capable of animating her in labors and regulating her actions, than the sight of the reward. Ah ! what a reward ! Heaven ! that is a king- dom which surpasses in beauty, riches and delights, all that the eye has seen, the ear heard, or the human heart can conceive or desire. Heaven ! That is the masterpiece of the magnificence and omnipotence of her God, where she will see Him in His beauty and grandeur, where she will love Him without division or interruption, where she will be happy with His happiness, and clothed with his glory, where the divine attributes will be manifested to her in all their perfection. God Himself will fill her with delights. Who can express with what plenitude He will fill all her 76 ON THE HAPPINESS OF HE AY EN. faculties, communicate to her mind all the knowledge, and to her heart all the love of which they are capable. She will know that her happiness is eternal and, therefore, nothing will be wanting to the perfection of her joy. She will sing forever the mercies of the Lord, she will inces- santly exclaim that His goodness is far above the heaven in which He has placed her. Should not such a happiness inflame the heart of a true religious, even here, not with a mercenary love, excited b} T the view of her own interests, but with a truly filial love, which will make her sigh for heaven, for the love of God Himself ? In the multitude of blessings which heaven promises her, she should cherish and desire no other delight than that of loving eternally her God, her Creator, her Saviour, her Redeemer, her Benefactor, the essential and only centre of her soul and her whole being. Should not the thought of this eternal union with her God render life a burden to her, and make her wish for death? Can a long life be desired by a true religious, to whom Jesus Christ has made a special promise to expand, in heaven the narrow limits of her heart and to inflame it with a more abundant love? Our Lord has established in His house many mansions, but nearest to His sanctuary, shall be those souls, who have most closely followed Him on earth. Their kingdom is not of this world, their crown shall be more brilliant. Their bodies, says the Gospel, shall beam with a brighter light, a brighter glory ; they shall be placed upon more luminous thrones and shall drink long draughts from that ocean of delights that shall water the city of God. Is there any virtue that does not become easy, are there any labors or penances that a religious cannot support at the sight of a remunerating God, Who promises her a happiness so immense in its greatness, so infinite in its extent, a happiness which He purchased for her at the price of His blood, and the acquisition of which He render- ed eas}' by His grace, after having traced out the way by His words and example ? What a lively ardor should she not feel in her soul, when told that this divine Heart will then draw her by charms so powerful, that it will be impossible for her to love any other ; that her love for Him will be ON THE HAPPINESS OF HEAVEN. 77 pure and without any mixture of self-love, because it will be proportioned to her knowledge of God, which will be more perfect ; whereas, here below, this knowledge being very limited, her love is very imperfect. It will be equable and immutable, because He who excites it will never hide Himself from her eyes, whereas, here her love is incessantly weakened, because her God incessantly escapes from her. It will subsist in all its strength, because God will furnish her without interrup- tion new motives, which will excite in her heart new ardors, new transports, whereas, here her love is often extinguished, because this diviue fire is enkindled iu her soul only by the help of certain momentary and unconnected means. In fine, her love in heaven will be delicious, because the measure of her desire will be filled and flowing over ; because the Holy Spirit, by His divine operation, will diffuse over all her affections the plenitude and sweetness of His unction, whereas, here the exercise of even her love becomes her torment and, per- haps, causes her such pain that, if God did not sustain her, she could not bear it without a miracle. What joy should not a truly religious heart feel, when she is told that these communications, which she has here w r ith God, those sweet moments, tender affections and vivid lights, iu which God makes Himself felt in prayer, are but feeble sparks of the fire, which will inflame and con- sume her in heaven for all eternity. i4 Ah! Lord," ex- claimed St. Chantal, when meditating upon these truths, 4 " when shall I quit this captivity? I languish and die with desire to die." O ! serene day of eternity, which, will never be followed by night, because the Supreme Felicity will illuminate it, when will it dawn for me ! O blessed moment, when I shall no longer have to fear any change in my love for my God, and when I shall be always loved b} r Him, my sweet Saviour, my God, my Spouse, and my All ! ! Second Point. Oh my soul ! a God for your recompense ! a moment of combat to attain it ! an eternity of enjoyment ! is it not enough to excite you to love, to reanimate your efforts, to 78 ON THE HAPPINESS OF HEA VEN. support you in the hardest trials ! Often raise your eyes to the holy mountain, whence comes all your help. Thus, the holy founders of your Order, in the lively expectation of the blessings which Were promised them, rose above sensible things. As their treasure was in heaven, their thoughts and desires were incessantly fixed upon it ; this supported them in the difficult way of salvation. "A moment more," said they, " and the crown will be given me. Perhaps, this is the last occasion I shall have of proving my love for God, and this God of goodness will give Himself to me !" Ah! can I do too much to secure to myself such a blessing? Oh my heart ! meditate fully upon these words. What ! to enjoy God for all eternity ! Always to see God, to love Him, and to be loved by Him ! Canst thou be insensible to such happiness ! Canst thou make any account of the violence thou must do thyself to merit this happiness ! Shouldst thou not have a sovereign contempt, an infinite aversion for all that can divide thy love ! O eternity ! immense duration ! .impenetrable abyss ! boundless and bottomless sea ! O eternity, how consoling thou art ! There, my love for God shall have no limit ; there, no more fear of losing grace, no more uncertainty of recov- ering it, but a full and perfect assurance of being loved ; no more labor, no more tears, no more temptations ! The sublime state in which Jesus Christ is in heaven is the image of the beatitude that awaits me. He has no more to suffer, He reposes ; He has no good to desire ; He enjoys the embraces of His father ; He has no change to fear ; He will reign there eternally. Thus for me, no more evils, miseries, trials, disgusts, weariness, heaviness, sickness, — no more nature and passions difficult to subdue. My body will be impassible, incorruptible, and immortal. God, Himself, will wipe away my tears, and their source will be dried up forever. I shall repose in the bosom of consolation ; death and grief shall have no hold on me. As Jesus Christ, in the place of His repose, preserves the marks of His glorious wounds, and looks upon them with complacency, so, in the enjoyment of the most perfect felicity, I will recall these days of tribulation, in which I have been humbled, annihilated ; and this memory, so ON THE HAPPINESS OF HE A VEN. 79 sweet and so consoling will form part of my reward. The wall which separates me from my God shall be broken down ; I shall possess Him, and be possessed by Him forevar. All my spiritual and corporal faculties will be satiated, not with the delights that here excites and content cupidity, but with a superior delight, which contains all delights in a superemiueut degree ; a delight, of which I could never support the immense weight, if God did not transform me into Himself ; a delight, which no one can know, but the one who enjoys it, and which the one who enjoys it cannot know sufficiently to speak of it ; unchanging felicity, which will have no vicissitude ! Once united to my God, I can never more be separated from Him ; He can never more escape me. I shall fear no weariness in an object, infinitely perfect, amiable and loving, inexhaustible in His perfections and infinite in His attributes. In Him, I shall always find something to know and learn ; new beauties and new en- joyments will attach me to Him. I will be so satiated that I will have neither the eagerness of desire, nor disgust of satiety. Always transported with a new joy, I will feel eternally the force of a pleasure possessed, and the ardor of a love which desires. Always filled with God and what He merits, I can no longer offend Him ; I will please Him in that abode of life, and I can please Him alone ; I will love Him as long as He is God, and this will be forever. As I will no longer have any love but for Hira, so will I have praises but for Him, praises weak and interrupted in this mortal life, but which, in heaven, will be eternal. Here, I can praise only the work of His hands ; there, I shall praise Him, Himself, I will bless His sovereign majesty, His infinite sanctity, His eternal mercy. In His presence, I will pour out my acts of thanksgiving, with sentiments of respect and gratitude. Here, I can praise Him only in the effects of His attributes ; there, I shall praise Him in His attributes themselves, which I shall know, discover, admire, and adore. Here, I, myself can praise Him, but it is my sorrow to live upon an earth, whose inhabitants praise Him not, or praise Him so little, or so feebly; but there, all voices will be united with mine to proclaim the magnificence of His reign, the 80 ON THE HAPPINESS OF HEAVEN. incomprehensibility of His glory. The elect of all ages and nations, united to hundreds of millions of angels, will surround His throne, and will discourse on the inexhaustible treasures of His power. Among them, I shall be. . . . All animated with the sole desire of praising Him, reci- procally aid one another by the purest, the sweetest, and most tender communications ; loving themselves only from the impression made on them by the sight, know- ledge, and possession of God ; no impurity of the senses will glide into their union, all will be chaste, all spiritual ; such will be the privilege of the blessed, such will be mine ! O land of the Saints ! O brilliant thrones ! O eternal tabernacle ! O blessed and incomprehensible eternity ! How sweet it is to contemplate your ineffable f elicit} 7 ! Thou, O my God, will be my reward. Is not every thing expressed in these words ? Thou, Who art the Supreme Good, will be my reward forever! What a thought ! Happy with Thy happiness, to which there shall be no end ; ravished, attracted, filled, and inundated with delight in the bosom of Thy glory for all Eternity ! O recompense too great for a vile creature that has done no- thing to acquire it ! too great for an unworthy criminal that has not even sought it ! too great for a penitent that will never do enough to deserve it ! In fact, what can I do that is at all proportioned to the reward offered? What are all my efforts, all my struggles in the religious life, compared to such a crown ! The world exacts much, gives little and often nothing, but Thou, O my God, Thou dost exact little and give much, or rather, all. Thou offerest me, Lord, the crown of immortalitj 7 , demanding in return some slight sacrifices that even my own interest and repose require ! Thou askest me to do myself a little violence for a short time, and have I not already lost too much of this short and precious time ! Must I expect to lament in an unhappy eternity that time, which is now given me only to save me from such a fate, and assure to me the eternal home of Thy saints ! O let me, hence- forth, live only for Thee and for heaven. Let me live for Thee by dying to myself, for Thou art my inheritance, and Thee alone, do I desire. The centre of my felicity is in Thee ; to Thee the weight of my love will unceasingly ON THE IMITATION OF JESUS CHRIST. 81 bear me. To leave Thee for a single moment for the pleasures of sense would be to degrade myself. From Thee I come ; to Thee I belong ; Thou alone art worthy of me. My soul is immortal. Thou alone, my God, art immortal and eternal, and shouldst excite my ambition and desires ! Even in heaven, whom should I seek if Thou wert not there? Created especially for Thy love, its delights alone do I desire in the glory of the blessed. Without Thee, all the joys of heaven would be nothing to me ; Thy beauty and Thy charms alone attract me, O my God. O death, amiable and desirable, when wilt Thou finish the course of my sad exile, in which I can only love my God imperfectly? When wilt Thou enable me to see Him unveiled, to love Him with a love no longer weighed down by the burden of this body, interrupted by the distractions of this life, that is, no longer variable and exposed to the danger of temptations ! O Heaven ! O my country ! sweet abode of innocence, peace and love, when wilt Thou receive me? Alas! how long is my exile! Shall I yet dwell long among the children of cedar? Must I still lanquish in my captivity? O holy Jerusalem, for thee do I sigh ! Wearily I sit upon the bank of the river of Babylon, my eyes bathed in tears at the remembrance of Sion. AVhen shall I possess Thee, O my God ! When shall I possess Thee? Ah ! till that happy moment, my felicity on earth will be to have my conversation in heaven. I will go there in spirit, heart, and desire, until, in reality, I go there. FOURTH DAY. SECOND MEDITATION. ON THE IMITATION OF JESUS CHRIST. First Point. " For whom He foreknew. He also predestinated to be made con- formable to the image of His Son." — Romans viii., 29. Am I of those chosen souls, or am I not? I know not. But this I do know, that my conformity with Jesus Christ is the only certain sign of my predestination, because it 6 82 ON THE IMITATION OF JESUS CHRIST. is either the cause or effect of it. I have no need of any other light or reasoning than this. If I am not like Jesus Christ, or if I do not become like Him, I will be lost for- ever ; all the other marks of my predestination are very equivocal, or rather, they all refer to this. Happy, then, am I, if I suffer for justice's sake ; if I walk in the narrow way, because in this I resemble Jesus Christ, and God treats me as He did His own Son ; God sparing me, I will treat myself as I know Jesus Christ has been treat- ed. As the branch separated from the vine withers as soon as it is deprived of the fertilizing sap, is fit only to be burned, so every Christian, separated from Jesus Christ, is deserving only of hell. If an ordi- nary Christian is obliged to form himself upon this model, with much greater reason, a religious soul should regulate her conduct by His, and increase the divine union she has contracted with Him. The love of her Saviour for her made Him become like her ; her love for Him should make her like Him, by the imitation of His virtues. She entered the leligious state onl}' to lead a life more con- formable to that whi^h He led upon earth. She should, therefore, imitate all His perfections, and especially His humility, poverty, patience, and obedience ; virtues, to the practice of which she has more particularly devoted her- self, and which are so much the more necessary for her, as they are more difficult to corrupted nature. The first lesson He gives her by his example, before giving it in words, is that of humility : a God incarnate, a God in the form of a slave, the Word made flesh, infinite and eternal humiliation! At th^f sight of so profound an annihilation, what should be hers? She should remember that she came from nothing, that she is only dust and ashes, that by her sins, she has debased herself beneath the- demons, and that she can repair her faults, and with- draw herself from the corruption of her heart only by humility, which will be for her the key to the most precious treasures of grace, and the root of all virtues. At the sight of her God, absolute Master of heaven and earth, Who chose for His portion not riches but poverty, which virtue He consecrated, and somewhat divinised, by choosing it for His inseparable companion in all the ON THE IMITATION OF JESUS CHRIST. 83 circumstances of His life, will she not discover a hidden treasure in a poor state, destitute of the ease and con- veniences of life ? Will she not cherish the evangelical poverty she professes, and which consists less in that of the body than in that of the soul, which annihilates every desire and causes her to use every thing, as if she used it not? At the sight of Jesus Christ, suffering in every part of His body, in all the faculties of His soul, should she not love the cross and be glad to share it with Him? At the sight of Jesus Christ, submissive and obedient to His Father unto the death of the Cross, should she not per- fectly and constantly submit her will to that of God? Thus should she imitate Jesus in all the other virtues. But it is not enough for a religious to imitate her diviue Model in those virtues, that every christian should retrace in himself. There is in this Man- God something still nobler, still more divine, to which she should conform her- self. She should enter His soul, and endeavor to retrace its features in herself, and in this, properly consists the interior and religious life. In the soul of Jesus Christ, she must distinguish three kinds of operations, those of the mind, and the heart, and the faculty of moving the corporal powers and making them act exteriorly. Now what was the mind of Jesus Christ? Of what did He think? What judgment did He form of all things? His thoughts were all of God ; the exterior touched Him only in as much as it referred to God. In all creatures, and in Himself as in a mirror, He recognized the power, wisdom, and greatness of God. If He formed designs, or executed projects, it was soleh' for the glory of God. Thence His faculty of conversing whole nights with His Father without distraction or weariness, of keeping united to Him in all the occupations of His mission ; to turn thus easily from actions to prayer, we must willingly pass from prayer to action. To imitate Jesus in this is the first step a religious, who wishes to advance in the interior life, should take. Therefore, she should avoid and dread those idle thoughts, which are the cause of the tumult that agitates her mind, at the time when she should be most recollected. Is it loving God with all our mind to pornrit that same mind to be occupied with what has 84 ON THE IMITATION OF JESUS CHRIST. no relation to Him? Do we lose less time in thinking than in speaking uselessly? and should we not fear the account we shall have to render of this? Exterior solitude avails little, without the interior. In long moments of reverie, if we do not think of sin, we think of vanities : the passions are strengthened by the representations of absent objects, as much as by the en- joyment of present objects that flatter them. The spirit of prayer is soon lost by one who does not make to her- self a law never voluntarily to separate herself from God by thought. And, do not say the soul of Jesus Christ, united as it was to the Divinity, could not do otherwise than think of God. It is true ; but, God as He was, He did not fail to employ the exterior means which rendered Him ever present to God, and God to Him. That is, He saw the world only through necessity. Silence, recollection and prayer were His element, and in this, especially, a religious should imitate Him. Grace will aid her efforts, and, by degrees, there may be formed in her so intimate a view of God, that it will, in some sort, effect what was brought about in the soul of our Saviour, by union with the Divinity. This was the experience of St. Francis of Sales and St. Chantal, to whom the presence of God was natural. The thoughts of Jesus Christ regulated His judgments, and what were His judgments? "I judge," said He, ki according to what I hear." And what did He hear? What did He consult? The judgments of His Father on every thing, on every person, every event. His judg- ments, therefore, were alway/s equitable, invariable, and exempt from error. Thus should a religious judge. Whenever it is necessary to deliberate or to decide, she should consult and listen to God, in order to learn what He judges and approves. Thus, she will see what is important for salvation, for eternity, and how different the judgments of the world are from those of Jesus Christ. The world judges according to its imagination and senses, the suggestions of the passions ; accordingly, it calls good what our Saviour calls evil, it despises what He esteems, and esteems what He despises. She will see this world such as it really is, an agreeable dream that vanishes on ON THE IMITATION OF JESUS CHRIST. 80 awaking, a charm that enthrals reason. In fine, she will learn to judge of things as she will at death, at the tribunal of Jesns Christ, and during all eternity. After having thus regulated her mind by that of Jesus Christ, she will also regulate her heart by His. Now, what was this Sacred Heart of our Saviour? What did it love? What did it desire? What did it breathe? All the movements of the Heart of Jesus tended to glorify His Father, to accomplish His will, to see Him known, loved, and adored by all creatures. He had no fears, joys, hopes, or sadness, no pain, consolation, motion or repose, that was not referred to this, which He called His food and His drink. What a joy for that divine Heart, whenever He could manifest to His Father the transports of His tenderness! Then, He listened not to nature or its repugnance. To quit heaven, to live in poverty, to die upon a cross! . . "What matter," said He, "My Father will be glorified ; I will redeem, reconcile, and save men, whom My father so much loves." This was enough. Every thing else in life was insipid and insup- portable to Him. St. Francis of S