Hidden Life of the Soul
H. L. Sidney Lear From the writings of Jean Nicolas Grou (1731-1803)
Preface
The author from whose writings the following chapters on the Interior Life are taken (not literally, but substantially), was himself deeply and practically versed in the subject on which he wrote. . . . Love of God is the mainspring by which he would rule the whole Christian life (v); his motto is ever “the Love of Christ constraineth us” (vi). . . .
Père Grou . . . was born at Calais in 1731, and educated by the Jesuit Fathers. Study and devotion (under which head we must include the guidance of souls) (vii) filled up his life, whether in Paris, or in Lorraine—where the Duke Stanislas sheltered him during a period of trial which preceded the outbreak of the great Revolution—or in Holland, or in England, withier, in the hear 1792, he finally retired before the rapidly advancing waves of that terrible tempest. The Père Grou as the author of various works, classical as well as theological. One of the latter . . . was burnt at Paris some time later. . . . In the year 1792, the Rev. Mr. Clinton, chaplain to Mr. Weld of Lulworth, invited Père Grou to seek refuge in England; and for a time the exile shared Father Clinton’s quarters (viii), whence after a while he moved to the Castle at Mr. Weld’s earnest desire. . . . notwithstanding the good Father’s affection for his hosts and their children, he continued to live amongst them in an almost perpetual retreat. Prayer and writing occupied all the time which was not claimed by his ministerial duties. He never began to write without praying that his work might be blessed. . . .
“I write nothing of myself,” he says: “God directs my pen.” . . . If God gives me ‘de quoi,’ I wrote freely; if not I wait His Will.” During his latter years he ceased to write, saying that “God did not give him de quoi” (ix).
. . . . In 1802 his health began to give way. . . . On the 13th December 1803, his end being visibly near, Père Grou received the last Sacraments, and shortly after departed this life peacefully and painlessly, exclaiming almost with his (x) last breath, “My God, it is indeed sweet to die in Thine Arms” (xi).
Père Grou once said in confidence to one of his spiritual children, that the greatest grace God had ever given him was a childlike and simple spirit, the lack of which, as he thought had previously closed his eyes to the deep things of God. . . . Such a childlike spirit, and how to attain it, as gather from instructions given to those who consulted him, is the main teaching of this volume. This spirit underlies his whole thought (xi).
The Foundations of the Hidden Life
. . . Moreover, fidelity in trifles, and an earnest seeking to please God in little matters, is a text of real devotion and love. It is quite possible to perform very ordinary actions with so high an intention, as to serve God therein better than in far more important things done with a less pure intention. . . .
One great hindrance to growth in God’s love is self-love. . . . it is well to bear in mind that as we advance in the spiritual life, our self-love is apt to change in character, becoming (3) more refined and subtle, and consequently more treacherous and harder to uproot. In truth, we can only perceive this dangerous enemy by the help of God’s own light, which reveals the secrets of the heart. . . Thus we seldom realize the force of self-love until God’s dealings are tearing it out of our hearts (4). . . .
True Devotion
Real devotion . . . consists in perfect readiness to do and suffer all things without exception or reserve for God’s Sake, and it is indeed a most choice gift of the Holy Spirit. . . which we must never suppose ourselves to have sufficiently attained, inasmuch as we ought to keep up a perpetual growth in the gift itself, as in its fruits.
Such devotion is inward, influencing the very depths of the soul, its intention and will. It does not depend on reason, imagination, or feeling (7). . . . Devotion is not a passing emotion—it is a fixed, enduring habit of mind, permeating the whole of life, and shaping every action. It rests upon a conviction that God is the Sole source of Holiness. . . . Thus it is impossible to attain true devotion without an interior and recollected spirit, which is ever seeking to possess itself in peace (8). . . .
The really devout man does not overwhelm himself with vocal prayers and religious exercises, which leave him no breathing space. He aims at constant freedom of heart. . . . If he falls into some error, he does not fret over it, but rising up with a humble spirit, he goes on his way anew rejoicing (10). . . .
True Holiness
I.The first means, which albeit seemingly the most ordinary, is in truth the hardest, is to will to attain. . . . Do you ask God daily to confirm and strengthen (17) your will, and each day’s perseverance will help forward the morrow. . . .
II. The second means for attaining a stedfast progress in holiness, is to have a daily rule, and to observe it punctually. . . . Due regard must be had to health, age, position, and the duties entailed thereby. Be sure that it is a mistaken devotion which interferes with the duties of your natural state of life. . . .
III. A third means is the continual recollection of God’s Presence; and to this end you must firmly believe that God dwells within our hearts, and that He is to be found there by those who seek Him (18). . . .
IV. The fourth means is to give a fixed daily time to god, during which His Presence is our sole occupation, and in which we listen to Him and talk with Him, not with the lips, but in the heart. This is seal mental prayer. Those who are beginners in this exercise cannot do better than use the “Imitation of Christ,” Pausing on each sentence and meditating upon it. . . .
V. The fifth means of progress is diligently to frequent the sacraments; chief channels of God’s Grace (19). . . .
VI. A sixth means of progress is spiritual reading, for which a wide field is open o you. . . . Your spiritual reading should in some respects be like a meditation, that is to say, you should watch for God’s action within you, and pause when you feel your heart touched by what you read, ALWAYS READ WITH A VIEW TO PRACTICE (20). . . .
VII. The seventh means is mortification of the heart. . . . You cannot be too watchful over your heart . . .—at first such watchfulness may be toilsome, but as you grow in recollection and in realisation of God’s Presence, it will become easy (21).
VIII. An eighth means is frequent meditation on the humility and purity of the Blessed Virgin, of whom Holy Scripture tells us that she is “blessed among women.” . . .
IX. Finally, it is most important that you should be under the guidance of a director who is himself led by God’s Holy Spirit, and therefore capable of leading you in the right way. You may be certain that those who heartily desire to advance in holiness, will find a suitable (21) guide; God will not fail to supply their need, if they pray to Him to send them the help they require, and then receive that help with meekness. With a hearty and wise guidance the soul can scarce fail to advance in the paths of holiness (22).
Victory over Self
. . . There are certain persons who are ready enough to . . . . But ask somewhat more of them;--the correction of faults, victory over human respect, a bridled temper, restraint of natural impulses, and the director is at once proclaimed to be severe, harsh, intolerant. . . .—a true Christian knows that self is his most dangerous foe. . . . When a soul first gives itself up to God, He is wont to deal very tenderly with it (24). . . .
But in a while, when the soul is able to bear such a sight, God lays bare its faults. He . . . inspires the growing Christian with an earnest mind to overcome them. Thenceforward the inward struggle begins. . . . We thought we loved God, and now our love for Him seems but another form of selfishness; we love His gifts rather than Himself; we indulged in self-satisfaction because of those gifts; we despise others who are less favoured. All this God shows us gradually—did we see it all at once, we should despair. . . .The faithful soul will not despair, but rather humbly trust in God, and set forth in His strength only (25).
Self-sought Strength, and God’s Strength
. . . God withholds His support from presumption, and we are left alone. In fact, then our own strength is real weakness, absolute weakness, and tends to nought save humiliating falls; while conscious weakness, together with a lowly spirit of confidence in God, is true strength, God’s own strength (28).
Divine Light
You must continually seek Divine Light, ask for it on every occasion, great or small, undertaking nothing without it. In the earlier stages of the interior life, it is generally very abundant. . . . You must receive this passively, letting it come and go as God wills. It is given to do (34) a special work at the moment; and when you need it again He will renew it, but He does not choose you to claim it as a possession, or a blessing you can summon at will. The Spirit of God cannot be . . . subject to our control: you must wait patiently, certain that He will never fail you in the hour of need.
It is well to make a rule to yourself not to speak of these lights to other men, under the pretext of giving God glory or of enlightening them. . . . Moreover, we waste our grace by too readily pouring it out around us. Of course, I do not mean but that you should do all in your power to forward other men in the way of holiness, but without using your personal experiences for that end (35).
In order to a right use of Divine Light, you must avoid, as far as may be,. giving way to imagination and your own opinion, mistrusting your reason and judgment. . . . The best use of reason in spiritual matters is to offer it silently at the foot of the Cross. God makes Himself known chiefly to those who are lowly and childlike in heart (36).
What God asks of us and what we should ask of God
Now, one thing is clear; God expects nothing from us save that which is in our power—and that is reduced to a single thing—i.e. a right use of free-will, as guided by enlightening grace. . . . He requires us to give good heed to the action of our own heart, and to His Voice speaking therein (38). . . .
Next God requires a full, hearty correspondence with such grace as He supplies under our present circumstances. Grace varies with varying needs. . . . Neither must we seek after things which are above our present capabilities, nor strive to do what may be all very well for saints, proved and formed by God, but is all too much for our weakness.
Moreover, when once we have given ourselves to God, He requires of us never to recall the gift, never to act as though we were not His; always to consult Him (30). . . .
God does not require sensible devotion of us, or any of those glowing religious emotions which are too often a subtle food to self-love. All such gifts are His alone, He can give and recall them as He sees fit; therefore do not be troubled when you are dry, dull, unable to rouse yourself to any holy thoughts in prayer. . . . He does not require us to have so (40) absolute control over our imagination as wholly to rule our thoughts. That is beyond our power, but it is within our power not to dwell upon distracting thoughts, to turn from them, to submit to spiritual advice (41).
And it is well to remember that even, in the holiest undertakings, what God requires of us is earnest willing labour; . . . but He does not require success of us: that depends solely upon Himself, and sometimes in very love for us He refuses to crown our best intentions with success (41).
. . . . As to what we should ask of God, be sure that we know not what we need, and that our safest course is to leave it all to Him—asking such good things as faith teaches us to seek. . . . Above all, we must ask a true knowledge of God and of ourselves; what He is and what we are (42).
God’s Dealings With the Soul
. . . He stands for ever at the heart’s door, knocking by means of holy thoughts, grateful gleams of light, pricks of conscience. If you will but look within your heart, and give heed, you will find that He is perpetually knocking thus, and that if you do not hear Him, it is your own fault. . . . (43).
But when at last the door is opened, He enters, He takes sole possession, and nothing save our own determination to banish Him can drive Him thence.
. . .The aim of a spiritual life is . . . a very transformation—unity—( . . .) like that of the Ever-Blessed Trinity: “That they may be in (44) Us, as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee.” . . .
Let us remember, moreover, that he who would reign with Jesus must first suffer with Him;--he must first die to self, and to all the sensitiveness of self-love. All the manifold trials with which God visits us are with a view to this perfect purification of the soul. . . . Such trials are more profitable to God’s Glory and the soul’s salvation than the longest life of good works and religious exercises (45).
The New Life in Jesus Christ
. . . His whole earthy sojourn was a mystical death. In like manner our new life in Jesus Christ must be a continual death to self . . . [even] to all that we can call our own in the highest matters of religion. It is as we advance in such death to all this side the grave, that the hidden life of Christ springs up and grows in us (46).
. . . The first resolve of one who gives himself wholly to God must be never to give way deliberately to any fault whatever; never to act in defiance of conscience, never to refuse anything God requires, never to say of anything, It is too small for God to heed.
Neither must we stand in awe of the world’s opinions and judgments, for fear its slights, its contempt, or even its ill-usage; we must not be ashamed of fulfilling our appointed duties or of obeying Christ’s Gospel (47). . . .
Death to our natural disposition and besetting faults. It is no small enterprise to overcome these, and many a saint of God has not achieved the task ere he is called from this world. . . . . But the best way to set forward this work is to keep watch over the heart, checking its unruly motives as they rise; never to act or speak from impulse, temper or irritation, and always to strive after a calm self-possession (48).
. . . Divine Guidance; you must avoid merely intellectual reading (in the matter of spiritual books). . . . Strive to remember that God will give you exactly the light you need, and be satisfied therewith. If you heart and mind are cumbered with unnecessary, self-sought rubbish, what room is there for God to come in and fill them with His peace?
Death to self-love and self-esteem (49). This touches us very deeply, for if there is one thing more deeply rooted in us than another, it is pride and self-conceit. . . . Be it ours to let Him deal with us, co-operating as best we may.
Death to spiritual consolations. There comes a time when God weans the soul from these. . . . Then the soul must freely accept all such privation, and learn to serve God for His own sake, not for His consolations (50).
The Gifts of God
Our spiritual life is, so to say a perpetual barter with God; He gives to receive again. . . . He is ever the first to seek us. “Who hath first given to Him?” S. Paul asks (52). . . .
These gifts are solely for our benefit. God gains nothing through what He gives us, and the return He demands is for our sake, not His. . . .
“The gifts of God are without repentance,” S. Paul says (53). . . . I am certain of His Grace, but I cannot count upon my own stedfastness for one moment? My will is ever frail and uncertain (54).
A Childlike Spirit
The first step towards the inner life is to attain a childlike spirit in heavenly things. . . . this childlike spirit is not to be understood save by experience—it is solely God’s gift, and no effort of the intellect or will can produce it.
A little child does not reflect or argue—he has no foresight, no prudence, no malice. Even so in spiritual childhood. God stills intellectual activity—that ceaseless whirl of reasoning and arguing with which man’s heart is prone to bewilder itself—and fills it with the one simple thought of Himself. Then the soul ceases to weary itself with planning and foreseeing, giving itself up to God’s Holy Spirit within, and to the teachings of His Providence without;--laying aside all temptation, to be guided by Him Alone, in a state of simple loving g dependence (56).
Again, a child knows no disguise—so soon as it is capable of dissimulation, the childlike nature is gone. . . . He who has a childlike spirit is free from all affectation and constraint—his actions, words, and manner are all perfectly natural. . . . he does not seek . . . to appear other that what he really is. . . .
A child expresses love and affection without restraint or pretense: . . . he knows no method in prayer save that of placing himself in God’s presence, hearkening, gazing, pouring out his treasures of love, it may be in words,--or more often in silence. Such a man loves his neighbor sincerely, heartily, . . . but his courtesy is that of which the Holy Spirit is the code (57).
. . . . A child has . . . no self-inspection—he abides simply as he is—and so the childlike spirit is not given to self-contemplation. . . . He does not judge of earnestness of his prayers . . . by the excitement of his feelings, leaving all such judgment to God, but goes on quietly through all the variations of the spiritual life. . . . So he never gets troubled and discouraged; if he falls he humbles himself, but gets up at once, and goes on with renewed earnestness (58).
. . . . The knowledge of his own weakness prevents his marveling at his falls; he has no wounded self-love, but in a true spirit of dependence he cries to God for help in the first moment of danger (59).
. . . half-hearted Christians scarce know what freedom means (63).
“Perfect Love casteth out Fear”
GOD requires us to fear Him. . . . “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,” but it is the beginning only; Love is the fulfillment thereof. Holy fear is one of the gifts of the Spirit, whereby He would fit us to receive His more perfect gifts. . . . Every one of us has a great need to fear our proneness to sin. . . :--such a holy fear will often be a most helpful weapon against the (67) temptations which beset us. But fear must not be the governing motive of a Christian’s life. . . He has formed our hearts to be governed by love. . . . Love alone can draw us from earthliness, and lead us to God. Love alone softens, enlarges, purifies he heart (68).
What Holiness is
. . . God commanded His people to “be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy;” and Jesus bade His disciples, “Be ye perfect, even as your Father Which is in Heaven is perfect.” The whole motive power and aim of holiness is set before us in these words; but we cannot enter into their depths save through the light of grace, nor will anything teach us their full meaning so well as the attempt to live by them” (71). . . .
It was that we might attain to this holiness that we were engrafted into the Divine Nature (72). . . . Who can ponder this truth, and not be filled with an awful sense of the personal holiness required of him as a Christian!
The Blessed Virgin a Model of the Interior Life
“Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.” . . . Mary offered to God a purity, a humility, and a submission which may be well taken as the model of an interior life. She did not reason upon God’s mysterious dealings with her, incomprehensible as they were to all save the eye of faith. It is ever so in the hidden life; He leads the soul by ways altogether contrary to human notions; . . . He disconcerts all our efforts, overrules all our self-conceived plans (78).
. . . Lowliness, absence of self-esteem, love of an obscure life, silence, solitude, diligence in giving heed to little things, faithfulness to Grace, to prayer and recollection, total submission to God’s Will, complete self-sacrifice, all these are of the very essence of the true interior life, and all these we shall find more perfectly set forth in Holy Mary (80).
Resignation
Love cannot be separated from faith and hope—on the contrary, it perfects both in faithful souls (81). . . . The heart’s homage consists in accepting God as the Source whence all affections flow, in loving Him wholly and with all our strength, and in loving all else in Him and subject to His love” (83). . . .
In truth no man can conquer self-love by his own efforts;--but he can give himself up simply to God; . . . he can lie still under the Hand which strips and chastens him in seeming severity. Not that such submission is easily attainable; . . . but he who perseveres, and who, having given himself to God, refrains from recalling the gift, will sooner or later be successful (84),.
Pure Love of God
PURE love is the love of God, free from all intermixture of self; consequently any act of love, whether it springs from hope, gratitude, reverence, is pure so long as it is free from the love of self. None save God can tell whether we love Him heartily and purely; He has seen fit to withhold any certainty as to our own mental state from us, in order that we may be humble and trustful (85).
. . . Little by little He purifies His weak child;--one while He withdraws spiritual consolations -- . . . our affections slacken, our heart seems to grow cold. Then the soul is tempted to think itself forsaken of God, and to give up all its high aims. To do this would be a proof that we were only seeking our own satisfaction in spiritual things, but the faithful soul will persevere under such dryness steadily for love of God, and so will grow in love of Himself, as part from His gifts.
After these beginnings, God often withdraws all conscious delight in His Love for long intervals; the soul ceases to feel that it loves or is loved, all self-consciousness (. . .) is crushed, and yet in truth that soul loves more fervently than before: the creature is set aside, and God takes sole possession of the heart. . . .
Purifying love works often through temptations, which seem to us to be uprooting those very virtues which in truth tey are strengthening and confirming—purity, faith, hope, charity towards our fellow-men, holiness, self- restrain (86). . . .
Again, purifying love works through humiliations. . . . But he is silent, he accepts such blame as deserved, he seeks not to be justified, and God’s Love establishes yet a fresh victory over self-love in that man’s heart (87).
The Hidden Life of the Manger
The interior life finds its lesson in the Manger no less than in the Cross; tie one contains the rudiments, the other the perfection of that life, and he who would attain the height must begin at the beginning. . . . from the Manger He faced the Cross.
. . . . the chief feature of a hidden life is the Cross; that . . . is the first thing God sets before us; . . . the first work of a soul which truly seeks Him is to accept the Cross (89).
. . . . As a Babe, Jesus adored His Father no less perfectly than when He spent nights in prayer, or on the Cross, but it was a silent, passive adoration, a fact which we should do well to remember when our pride is wounded, because we are cold, lifeless, unable to express ourselves in prayer. . . . To wait in silent humility before the Presence of God is really to serve Him “in spirit and in truth” (90).
Jesus Christ the Way, the Truth, and the Life
Jesus Christ gathered up the whole mystery of faith, hope, and love for man, when He said, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.” . . .
His whole doctrine was summed up in two precepts—love of God and love of our neighbour. Love of God implies a rightful and true love of ourselves, inasmuch as to love Him is to love our only true good (93). . . .
The Mind of Christ
By the Interior Mind of Christ we mean that which was the principle and rule of His Life. . . . Jesus is the model of all Christians, and those who would study the interior life must seek to know what was His Mind. Holy Scripture revels much of this to us, as regards His Father, Himself, and `mankind (95).
The Effects of Holy Communion
John vi. 56: Our human intellect fails before this marvellous Indwelling;--we cannot attempt really to understand such Divine words in their full meaning. The purer the heart, so much more will the Saviour’s promise be fulfilled; and as the heart grows in holiness, so will it attain to an increased knowledge of the depth of that wondrous Presence within it (98). . . .
There is no preparation for a good Communion so safe as that which Jesus Himself makes within the soul that abandons itself wholly to Him. . . . What are we that we should make ourselves worthy to receive (100). Our Lord. . . .
Moreover, this wondrous Indwelling, the result of Communion in His Body and Blood, is like to the Indwelling of Christ in His Father. “As I live by the Father, so he that eateth Me, even he shall live by Me.” The Father is the Spirit of Life to His Incarnate Word, and even so the Son is the Spirit of Life to those who eat His Body. It is a supernatural life which nothing save our sin can destroy (101).
. . . . how closely the Sacrament of the Eucharist and the Cross are united, . . . He said, “This is My Body, which is broken for you,” “This is My Blood, which is shed for many for the remission of sins;” thereby retaining the spiritual character of a sin-offering in the Sacrament of the Altar; when he gave his disciples power to consecrate His Body and Blood, He expressly bade them do it “in remembrance of Me;” that is of the sacrifice of the Cross. At the same time He appointed this Sacrament as the indispensable food of our souls, whereby alone the Life of Graces should be preserved, confirmed and increased within them. Thus He has forever graven His Cross in the souls of His faithful followers by His special institution of this sacrament (102), which binds them to it for ever (103). . . .
The Body of Christ is the food whereby our spiritual strength is sustained. . . . It is plain that such strength is to be used in overcoming .. . all that resists God’s Grace within us (104).
The Cross of Christ
“I DETERMININED,” says S. Paul, “not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ and him Crucified.” That is the substance of a Christian’s faith and practice. . . . It is the all-prevailing witness of God’s Love—the most powerful attraction to man’s heart. All graces are to be found therein, and it is the perfection of the interior life (107). . . . Every precept which our Dear Lord has given us may be summed up in the doctrine of the Cross. It teaches us the power of sin, inasmuch as nothing less than the death of God made Man could crush that power, and atone for sin (108).
. . . . First of all, taking up the Cross involves a diligent avoiding of sin, and of all occasions of sin. . . . Sin is often attractive and convenient; It is sometimes attended with temporal advantages; we are frequently, it may be daily, exposed to its temptations, which are often urgent and delusive. . . . Next, taking up the Cross consists in . . . subjecting the flesh to the spirit, watching over the senses, and all those feelings and imaginations which influence the heart (110). . . .
Again, taking up the Cross implies of weaning of the heart and mind from things earthly, casual, sensual, in order to fill them with that which is heavenly, spiritual, eternal. . . . It is no easy thing to keep the heart disentangled from these aims and longings [the comforts and conveniences of life], which inevitably lower the spiritual tone. Further the Cross requires us to receive all that troubles us, whether from natural causes, our own fault, or that of other men, as coming from God’s Hand. . . . So with mental trials. . . . These, above all, are linked to Christ’s own Cross, and those who would follow His steps must share His humiliations, interior and exterior—a sharp Cross which pierces the very (111) secrets of the soul.
. . . . In some one or other of these shapes the Cross is laid on all Christians, good or bad, for these last are not exempt from God’s providential Crosses, and their own passions involved them in many more (112).
God Only
The whole spirit of the interior life is summed up in the words “God Only.” . . . All man can do is to give himself unreservedly to God, and let Him work all His good pleasure in the soul. . . .—not a word, a look, a desire, however innocent, but must be sacrificed to God (114). . . . God may seem to forsake the soul, all refreshment and consolation may be taken away, desolation and loneliness may be the very atmosphere it lives in, but the interior soul must go on in steadfast patience, trusting in God, and certain that He will “do all things well.” . . . No plans or methods, no book, no director can lead the soul to God Only. None, save He Himself, can draw us, and unite us to Himself. . . .
If you ask what you must renounce? there is but one answer, All save God. But . . . we must leave it to God to reach us the lesson, and set before us the sacrifices He requires of us. Do not fear. Earthly imagination will paint such detachment in very (115) alarming colours, human reason will tell us that it is unattainable; but turn to the Cross in faith, meditate on Christ’s Passion, and you will gain a truer notion of what self-renunciation means (116).
Continual Prayer
Jesus Christ said, “that men ought always to pray, and not to faint;” and S. Paul bids us “pray without ceasing.” What is meant thereby, and how can we fulf9il the precept? . . . By the heart’s prayer, which consists in a constant habitual love of God, trusting Him, submitting in all things to His will. . . . this it is which forms what we call the Interior Life. God calls all men to this kind of prayer (117). . . . You will not always be thinking formally of God, but all your thoughts will be rule by Him; His Presence will check useless or evil thoughts.
. . . . God sees “the preparation of the heart;”—He needs neither words nor thoughts of ours to set the true disposition of our heart before Him (118). . . . S. Anthony said that the best prayers were those in which we are unconscious that we pray: at all events self-love can find no food therein. . . .
If you would persevere in this continual prayer, try to realize that the less conscious it is, the more acceptable to God (119). . . . By degrees you will feel that God reigns supreme in you; He will train you in the love of silence and solitude (120).
Confidence in God
There is no point in the spiritual life so essential as this. . . . Confidence in God is beset by two enemies; . . . on the one hand presumption, cowardice on the other. Presumption raises a false conception of God, and leads to its abuse. . . . Cowardice is so beset with the terror of God’s judgments, that it loses sight of His Mercy, and often verges on despair. . . . As a general rule, men are most liable to err on the side of presumption, and women on that of fearfulness and mistrust (121).
How we must Love God
. . . . As men advance in the interior life, they learn to indulge less and less in self-dissection, evan as regards their love of God;--they are content to give themselves up to Him in this matter as in all else—to love Him without any conscikous dwelling upon their love; and this is the higher and purer form of love. It is free from all self-complacency, absorbed in God Himself (129).
Rest in God
The larger part of mankind seek it in wealth, in honours, in worldly ease. . . .Others seek rest in themselves, but what can be expected from our weak, changeable natures? Society, literature, science, may occupy, but they cannot satisfy or rest the heart. There is no rest for the heart of man save in God, Who made him for Himself (131). The Soul’s Life
Such rest is not to be found in the things of sense; “the Spirit giveth life. And it alone; and until the soul drinks deeply of the Spirit/of God, it will not find its true life. He kindles the burning thirst which leads us to the fountain of living water, and He has promised to satisfy it abundantly; but He will have us ask before He gives, and to that end He has taught us to use the blessed force of prayer (134-135).
The Soul’s Peace
THIS peace will not be won by mere literal obedience; God’s law must be loved as well as obeyed; there must be the filial spirit as well as the legal duty rendered (137).
Again, bear in mind that God never casts the soul into trouble and anxiety when it is truly seeking Him. He warns, He rebukes, but He never troubles you;--He enables you to see your fault, to repent and make amends, but it is all done calmly—restlessness and anxiety are the Devil’s work, and to be withstood. . . . Above all, beware of letting go the spirit of peace because of your faults. . . . It is often mere pride which frets at finding itself beset by (139) the same often renew faults, and at its lack of spiritual progress. Do no deceive yourself into the belief that such disquiet is humility (140).
The Spirit of Faith
“The just shall live by faith.” S. Paul is . . . speaking here . . . of that which is purely personal, and which specially concerns God’s Providence over the souls He leads. He inspires with perfect trust in his Word and promise, and then He tries the strength of that trust, by various searching tests” (141).
Love for our Neighbor
And if we do indeed takes His Example as our standard of love, we shall find that it binds us to give freely of our best, not in temporal things only, but in spiritual; to be liberal in prayer and intercession, ever to (143) remember how much good or harm our example does among our brethren, always to be ready to forgive and forbear.
Self-love is the source of all evil, and not less destructive of true love of man than of God (144). . . . Thus many excellent people betray a great deal of harshness and want of charity in judging their neighbours, and you may be sure that the source is self-love and a lack of interior life. . . . I believe truly that it is arder to love our neighbour perfectly than to love God, though of course really the two things are inseparable (145). . . . Those, however who are sincerely seeking to live an interior life, and to be led wholly by God’s Grace, will escape many of these delusions of self-love. They are continually listening to God’s Voice within their heart (146).
The World
The world consists of those . . . who look for happiness in the things of sense, and dread poverty, suffering, humiliation, as the real evils of life . . . while they seek riches, honours, and pleasure; . . . unscrupulous as to how such things are attained (147). . .
That nominal profession of Christianity, however, makes it hard to discern the snare—the world disguises its counsel skillfully, propagates its doctrine insidiously, and makes a great pretence of reconciling its laws with those of Christ (148).
. . . S. Paul says, “the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world.” . . (149) . Nor is it enough the “the world is crucified to me.” We must be “crucified to the world;” . . . if the world criticizes, blames, despises, casts us out, let us be of good cheer . . . .
Do not shrink from examining closely, as in God’s Presence, how you stand with respect to the world, and the world to you. Search into your inner heart, weigh its motives (150). . . . Learn to tread under pride and vanity, self-conceit and earthliness, and you will attain to a dignity of which you little thought to be capable [1 John 3:2] (154).
The Human Heart
. . . . Our great object is to disguise our own heart both as regards ourselves and others. With the last we do not always succeed, they are quicker to perceive our faults; but unhappily we are only too successful in evading that self-knowledge which is so specially necessary to a Christian, yet so rare, so seldom honestly sought. . . .
Surely it is best to strive now to measure one’s self by God’s standard (156). . . . Above all, we must be inexorably strict in acknowledging the faults we discover, and abvstain from all attempts to justify ourselves or to others. God will not fail to shed His Light on the heart which thus simply and sincerely confesses its blindness. . . .
It is well to bear in mind that god in His Wisdom only gives the grace of self-knowledge gradually;--if He were to show us our true selves suddenly, we should despair, and lose all courage. But as we perceive and conquer the more glaring faults, His gracious Light shows us our subtler, more hidden imperfections; and this spiritual process lasts all through life (157). . . . The further you advance, the more you need Divine Light (159).
Temptation
Souls that have made further progress in the interior life meet with a different class of temptations, which indeed assume rather a character of trial than of ordinary temptation (164). . . . The only real preparation against temptation is unfailing co-operation with Grace . . . when tem ptation comes, let it pass over you like a storm cloud, while you hold fast to God. . . . your habitual conduct is the only thing by which to judge (165).
Self
But there is another more spiritual self which is peculiar to religious people, the evil of which would not be easy to describe; how it blights and withers devotion, warping and misdirecting it, and bringing holiness into contempt and ill-repute. Who can tell of the meanness, the weakness, the falls to which it leads; how it fills pious people with fretting scruples, and makes them restless, uneasy, fanciful, capricious, absurd, jealous, censorious, ill-tempered, often intolerable to themselves and others! Who can say how it hinders and thwarts the work of grace (168).
The Nothingness of Man
. . . No doubt it is easy to confess our nothingness as regards God in words only, but when we come to act upon it, . . . it is not so easy, although (172) He deals ever so gently with our weakness (173). . . .
The chief pang of most trials is not so much the actual suffering itself, as our own inherent resistance to it. . . .
In spiritual things, our trials mostly come from a lack of sufficient self-surrender; a lurking attempt to please ourselves, self complacency (174), poisons even our devotions; and hence . . . we cannot endure any seeming estrangement from God, we exhaust ourselves in struggles if He hides His Face, and thus arise discouragement. . . . All true peace lies in forgetful ess of self, which can only be found in God (175).
Generosity
Generosity is of two kinds, natural and supernatural; both are the gift of God, and the former begets the latter. . . . Earthly generosity consists in sharing what we possess with others; spiritual generosity implies giving to God, not only all we have, but all that we are (176). . . . S. Gregory says that it is easy to give up what a man has, but very hard to give up himself; and in truth it cannot be done save through the grace of God (177). . . .
There is always some taint of self in mere natural generosity—interested motives, pride and vanity intrude, a love of patronizing, the praise of men, or even our own conscious self-applause find a part therein. But none of these can reach supernatural generosity. . . . Our own interests are sacrificed to those of God (178).
Simplicity
. . . The more our souls can approach to such simplicity, the nearer they are to Him in whose Image and Likeness they were created. . . . A simple heart will love all that is most precious on earth, husband or wife, parent or child, brother or friend, in God, without marring its singleness (180).
Obedience
Obedience costs the human spirit a higher price than any other virtue. . . . What can be more intolerable than to give another control over my conduct, over the secrets of my inner life? (182).
. . . Our obedience will never reach as far as His (184).
Humility
Meekness is the result of true humility. He who is lowly in heart will inevitable be meek, and he who is deficient in meekness is sure to be deficient also in humility. Never was there humility like to that of Jesus Christ, voluntary, deep, practical; taking upon Him man’s natured, bearing all that is most despised of men (185).
. . . . No saint of God ever yet believed himself to be humble; the vision would destroy the reality (187).
On the Right Side of Time
. . . . The only portion of time on which we can reckon is that actually present—the actual moment in which we live (188).
. . . . Happy they who measure time and its use as in His Sight, happier still if they live according to their knowledge (192)!
The Blindness of Man
. . . . Now though Christianity has shed its light upon us, it has not altogether dispelled our darkness; where self-love and self-will linger, there we shall ever be blind (193) as concerns God and His Ways, we misapprehend true holiness; and we are deceived as to our own faults though clear-sighted enough as to those of our neighbors’. The soul that is blinded thus does not and cannot know itself; but God’s light quickly opens the eyes which are not willfully closed (194).
. . . . Do not fear to see your own weakness and poverty by the Light of that Grace, it will show you your faults, and give you power to conquer them. Do not seek to shatter the mirror which reflects your soul’s lack of beauty; rather welcome the truth, and believe that, next to the knowledge of God is the knowledge of self (196). . . . Let us cry out with S. Augustine, “Lord, teach me to know Thee, and to know myself!” (197).
The Weakness and Corruption of Man’s Heart
Even that measure of “willing good” which we possess is the work of Grace only, not any merit of our own.” . . . As S. Augustine says, we are capable of every (199) sin that we have seen our neighbor commit, unless God’s grace sustains us (200).
Detachment
A holy man of old summed up the interior life in three words, Flight, Silence, Rest. . . . He must not only fly from sin and every occasion of sin, but he must shun all those tings which drag him down from his higher aims (201). . . .
The chief difficulty in attaining true detachment arises from our natural inclination to throw ourselves into the things of this world, and clinging to them, to seek a rest therein which they can never give. . . .
Then as to silence (202) . . . an unrestrained flow of talk is a sure sign of a trifling, dissipated mind; and no one can turn readily from useless, frivolous conversation to recollected prayer, or spiritual reading, so as to prophet by them. . . . But there is another kind of silence, . . . silence as regards one’s self- -restraining the imagination. . . . How can we gather those wandering thoughts into a recollected attitude of prayer? . . . No doubt you cannot prevent those (203) thoughts from arising, but you can prevent yourself from dwelling on them. . . .
Further, you must find rest for your mind and heart in God, and there is no other true rest. . . . You will find that blessed rest in proportion as you put aside all agitation, all over-eagerness, or excitement, or hurry (204).
Little Things
. . . There is no standard of things great and small to a Christian, save God’s will.
So with respect to our growth in holiness; our Christian perfection, our very salvation, may depend on something which seems to us a mere trifle (206). . . . Be sure that if you do your very best in that which is laid upon you daily, you will not be left without sufficient help when some weightier occasion arises (207). . . .
There is more effort, more steadfastness, involved in diligent attention to little duties, than appears at first sight, and that because of their continual recurrence. . . . such heed to . . . a ceaseless listening to the whispers of grace (208). . . .
The Use to be made of our Faults
. . . God intends even our faults to set forward the sanctification of our souls, and it rests with ourselves whether they do so or not. Not infrequently we suffer less real injury from a fault itself, than from the way in which we deal with it. . . . Such people . . . give way to false shame, and become fretful and disheartened. But these are so many signs of self-love, more hurtful to the soul than the original fault. You are surprised at your imperfections. . . . Surely you might rather be astonished (210) . . . . that you do not fall into more frequent and more grievous faults, and thank God for His upholding Grace. . . . You should never allow yourself to be disturbed, but when fallen you should rise up quietly, turn with a loving heart to God for forgiveness, and put away the thought of your fault (211). London, New York: Longmans, Green, 1900. Romans 11:35. Romans 11:29.