Chapter VI. Minting Money

God is the centre of every thing, and the value of every thing. As every thing comes from Him, so every thing returns to Him. Even the rebellious creature, which refuses to repose in the embraces of His love, falls into the hands of His justice. Nothing is worth any thing, except in so far as God chooses to have to do with it. The enlightened mind or the loving heart can respect nothing, except under its relation, true or supposed, to Almighty God. There is but one view of things which is true, and that is God's view of them. It seems hardly worth while to say such very obvious things. Yet the misery is that even Catholics find a difficulty in getting these truths into their minds, to say nothing of the further difficulty of acting upon them when received. Many men are shocked at the external signs of oblivion of God, which are so distressingly obvious in an heretical country. And yet they themselves in their own subject-matter do not really let God have his own. Look how Catholics act when mixed up with a political party, or a scientific institute, or aristocratical society, and you will see at once conduct which implicitly at least, supposes that God is very well in His own place, but that he has limits, and that to intrude Him, and religious consider f ions which have to do with Him, into certain discussions, actions, or interests, is either an impertinence or a narrow-mindedness, or at least a tolerated idiosyncrasy. Many good people, from the best of motives, fall into this, and they deem they are going to win God some glory, and His Church some prosperity, from thus playing the civil to the world and its principles. Alas! they wake up one day and find that, while their own devotion has become dull, and their prayers distracted, and their piety merely exterior, and their principles insensibly lowered to the level around them, they have not drawn to God one single soul, or in any one nook of the world increased the love of our dear Lord. With how many is this the case, who are thought to be invaluable men and pillars of the Church, not because they are supernatural men and in God's secrets, but because they have the world's ear, and represent its influential classes! And their prudence is successful! But in what does it succeed! Does anybody love Jesus better? Is there a poor soul saved somewhere? Oh no! but the Ministry of the day have been got to drop a condescending word about the Pope, or a neutral member has asked a question about some little something in the House of Commons; which is first asked, then noticed in the next day's paper, and finally ends in nothing! But, then, any thing like unrespectability has been so completely avoided! Well, well! God be praised, and these kind patrons of God be praised as well. Only sometimes we want something more than to be respectable. Let us look to our prudence. It will be the best thing about ns, if it be supernatural. But not else. In this country, and at this time, men must have a very clear view of God, else they are quite sure in a hundred ways not to let Him have His own.

It is very obvious to say that if we always knew what God wished, it would be a great help to us in serving Him. We should not surely throw ourselves into open rebellion against the express will of God. Yet practically, in by far the greatest number of our actions, we do know this; and in all of them, if we do not know what He would have us do, we know at least the motive from which He would have us act, whenever we act at all. " Whatever you do, whether you eat or drink, or whatever }rou do, do all for the glory of God." St. John tells us that God is charity. Thus in the whole of the almost infinite and complicated system in which we live, God has contrived all things, quite wonderfully, for these two ends, if they might not more properly be called one end than two; He has arranged every thing, first, so that He may beloved; and secondly, so as to enable us to love Him. If we may dare thus to speak of the Almighty, He seems to have no other end in view at all: and He manages things by artifices of almighty power in order to bring this about. This is His rule b}^ which He has done every thing. The hearts of His creatures are the only treasures He will condescend to accept from His own creation.

It is remarkable, when we come to think of it, that neither angels nor men were created in a state of nature, but in a state of grace; and were thus able at once to love God, and to merit eternal life, which is nothing else than eternal society with Him. Grace was a better position than nature for loving God. By grace He could communicate Himself to us. By it He at once got more love from us, and made us more able to love Him. Then came redemption, and the same end is visible there. He could have forgiven sin without the Incarnation; but it was the most loving way, and more sweetly constrained us to love Him. When our dear Lord came, one tear was enough to redeem countless worlds; but blood was more loving. Then one drop of blood was enough, but to shed it all, and to shed it variously, in the garden, at the pillar, during the way of the cross, and on Calvary, was more loving, more likely to call out men's love. When Jesus went, and the work of redemption was to go on operating through all ages, common grace would have done; but that Jesus should come back to us invisibly in the transcending wonder of the Blessed Sacrament was more loving, more personal, and more constraining to our affections. We might be eternally happy in a sinless immortality, spent in a world of beautified nature; but His delight is to be with the children of men, and that they should be with Him to all eternity, and that nothing short of His own dear and adorable Self should be their enjoyment. You see every thing our Heavenly Father does is for love. He vouchsafes to long for our love. He makes us so that we can only be happy in loving Him; and then, looking compassionately on our intense desire to love Him more, He does all that we will let Him do to enable us to love Him more and more worthily and fervently. Thus all is love from first to last: there is no other measure; there is no other principle.

Oh, that we had the hearts to take this in, and all that it involves! If we are to come to weights and measures with Infinite Goodness, surely His love of us should be our measure of love of Him, a measure to which we must never cease to aspire, though we shall never attain it. If our hearts are not at once touched, melted, and carried away by the very thought and name of God, reflection must at least convince us that all religion is a matter of love, and that without some love we can never see God. All through, God takes the lower place in His own world; He stoops to plead when we should expect Him to command: He makes as though we were laying Him under an obligation who created us out of nothing, and from whom alone all that is good proceeds. May I say it? He makes love to us, and woos our souls with blandishments which no churlishness of ours seems ever to repel. He is continually giving way, continually waiving His rights, putting Himself in our position and us in His. The Incarnation is itself a figure of the whole conduct of the Creator to His unworthy creatures. The mystery of the Blessed Sacrament is simply in harmony with the way and conduct of the Almighty in His own world. And, alas! we are not touched! We are as hard, dry, ungracious, mean, as ever! As though it were some great honor to us to show off the might of our free will, and that while God was contriving every thing to get love from us, we could manage, in spite of Him, to make religion as nearly as possible a shopkeeper's bargain, or a convict's grudging obedience. Oh, till we got to know our own hearts, hell might have seemed a severity; but truly a little self knowledge shows that it is almost the chiefest, because the most indispensable, of the Divine Mercies.

Well might St. Francis run about the woods in the valley of Spoleto, exclaiming, " Oh, God not known and not loved! " Well might St. Bruno cause the mountain solitudes to echo with his one life-long cry, " Oh, Goodness! Goodness! Goodness! " Well might our dearest Lord appear to St. Gertrude, pale, weary, bleeding and dirt-stained, and say, " Open your heart, my daughter, for I want to go in and lie down; I am weary of these days of sin! "

But at last, as we grow in the knowledge of God, we grow in His love also. We come at length to feel pain and anguish because we do not love our Blessed God more, and because others do not love Him also. Here too He is ready to meet us. He not only arranges all things so as to get love, but with this He arranges so as to enable us to love Him in all manner of supernatural ways. I said in the last chapter that He did this in two ways more especially; first, He gives us all that is His, and lets us offer it to Him again as if it were all our own; these are the riches of our poverty which we then considered. Secondly, He magnifies our own poor actions and gives them an immense value by uniting them to His, and enabling us to do them from supernatural motives, and in union with Him. It is this last method of putting it in our power to love Him more worthily that we are to consider now. We are to meditate on the treasure of our common actions, and on the Catholic devotion of perpetually offering them up to God united with the actions of Jesus. This is the second manner in which God mercifully rescues us from the littleness and worthlessness of our own selves. There is not a single thing we do all the day long, which may not., and that quite easily, be made to advance the glory of God, the interests of Jesus, and the Salvation of souls. No matter how completely the world may have set its seal upon it, nor how utterly it seems to be an affair of temporal business, or a trivial concern belonging only to the misery of human life. The heavenly motive enters into it; that moment it is all filled with God, and becomes a jewel of almost infinite price, with which the Divine Majesty condescends to be well pleased. The hours pass, one following the other; each one is filled with actions belonging to our state. We write, or read, or keep accounts, or buy, or sell, or speak, or think, or suffer; and all the while, if we choose it, we are minting money, heavenly money which can merit eternal life. There needs but the act or intention of oblation, by which our actions touch those of God made Man, to confer this value upon every single thing we do.

This devotion of saying mass, as it were, with our actions all day long is peculiarly Catholic. I suppose it strikes converts as much as any thing else in the devotional system of the Church; and it is surely another most touching instance of the way in which God contrives every thing for love. Pious people sometimes complain of the distractions of worldly occupations; they think it will be the peculiar business of heaven to worship God with an unintermitting worship; in fact, they complain that earth is not heaven. Yet surely, in this respect at least, it need not be so very unlike it. If ours is a service of love, every one of these so-called distractions is in truth a precious oblation. Every action is Host and Incense and Song and Sacrifice all the day long, if we choose that it should be so ourselves. Now, if we have really at heart God's glory, the interests of Jesus, and the saving of souls, if we would fain be occupied in these things at all hours, we must not neglect to profit by this treasure of our common actions.

The spirit of oblation, I have said, is essentially Catholic. It springs from the doctrine of the Mass, which is the centre and fountain of all true devotion. It belongs to a religion of sacrifice, such as the Gospel is in every way. Our dear Lord redeemed us by the oblation and sacrifice of Himself; and hence oblation and sacrifice enter into every minutest detail of our religion. No wonder then that they should give a shape and form, a genius and spirit, to Catholic devotion. This is so obvious, it need not be dwelt upon. But what I want you to observe is that here also is the same contrivance for love, the same sweet paternal spirit, which God vouchsafes to show us everywhere. It would seem as if prayer was a privilege which could not possibly be exceeded even by infinite compassion, and that a creature could look for nothing more than the privilege of making his wants known to his merciful Creator. Yet oblation is something beyond prayer. In prayer we receive from God; in oblation it is He who vouchsafes to receive, and we are allowed to give. To make presents is not only a sign of love, but of some sort of equality: and thus from oblation there springs a more familiar, tender, and affectionate familiarity with God than could arise from petition only.

The childlike freedom of the saints comes in great measure from this spirit of oblation.

1. Let us now see what the practices of the saints have been with regard to the oblation of their own daily actions to God. We must remember throughout that our position is this. We are longing for God's glory, for the interests of Jesus, and for the good of souls. We see an overwhelming amount of work to be done, little time to do it in, and small means to do it with. We must be covetous of all we have, greedy of grace, and greedy of every thing which grace can make its own. Our dear Lord! it is for Him we are working, so we must work hard, and always. We have something to do, and we do it, and there the action stops. But if we do the same thing with devout attention, offering it to Jesus in union with something similar which He condescended to do on earth, it becomes a sweet sacrifice of immense power with God. What miser but would be minting money all the day if he could? Yet this is just what we can do, and, through the stupendous mystery of the Incarnation, in a most real way, and effectual to the obtaining of eternal life.

St. Thomas teaches that the work of a just man becomes the more meritorious in proportion to the excellence of the supernatural motive for which the work is done, and that as love, the love of benevolence, as it is called, is more excellent than any other, so works done for that motive are the most meritorious of all. Furthermore he teaches, as I mentioned in a previous chapter, that works done to God as our Father, are more meritorious than those done for Him as our Creator, because the motive is more excellent. Rodriguez tells us that God revealed to St. Mechtildis that it was most pleasing to Him that we should offer Him all our actions in union with those of Christ, and our Lord Himself taught the same to St. Gertrude, and also to St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi. Thus St. Thomas says* that " Christ is signified by the double altar of holocausts and incense; because by Him we ought to offer to God all the works of virtue by which we afflict our flesh; and these are offered on the altar of holocausts; and that we should offer to Him also all those which we do with a greater perfection of mind, by the spiritual desires of the perfect; and these are offered on the altar of incense." Thus, St. Ignatius in his rule says, " that all his children are to have a right intention, not only as to their state of life, but as to all details, always in all of them seeking to act only so as to please the Divine Goodness for His own sake; " and St. Theresa says, " That every one will gain the desired end of his prayers more efficaciously, if he will but offer his actions to the Eternal Father in union with the merits of our Lord." And Orlandini tells us of Father Peter Faber, " That he took upon himself the patronage of the dead so thoroughly that he wished all his brothers so to offer their ordinary actions that when hindered by so many cares, and distracted by so many external occupations, they could not pray with their voices, their very actions might rise up as silent petitions for the Holy Souls." In order to avoid weariness and the straining of the mind, Lancisius recommends that

i. 2. a. 102. 13 this offering should be made by single words, either, " I will, or I offer, or I do or say this, — for Thy sake, my heavenly Father! " and that we may either keep to the same words or vary them, according as we find our devotion is most excited. This prayer of practical oblation is, he says, in itself more excellent and meritorious even than the contemplation of the prayer of quiet; and for this reason. In both, whether oblation or contemplation, the formal object is the same, God loved simply for His own sake, but in oblation a further matter is added, the work or word done or said for God. Hence it is that theologians teach that the mixed life is more perfect than that which is purely contemplative.

The same spiritual writer recommends also that we should offer to God the particular circumstances of our actions, as well as the actions themselves. For example, on rising in the morning, he would have us say, " O most holy and beloved Father, I now desire to rise because of Thee, and in union with the merits, and all the works of my dear Lord, without delay, so as promptly to obey the call of holy obedience, and to dress myself with all modesty, and as quickly as I can, that I may begin all the sooner to work for Thy glory." And he says that this variation of the material circumstances of our actions at once increases the merit of the offering, and prevents weariness and oppression of spirit. Yet this might act differently on different persons, or on the same persons at different times.

*The Benedictine and Carmelite schools of mystical theology would hardly allow this Jesuit doctrine. But the merit of contemplation is a very vexed question.

He recommends also, as an act of greater love and merit, that we should make the offering of our actions for several supernatural ends, subordinate to the great one of God alone; and he gives the following examples, not that we should necessarily think of them all in all our actions, but in order to furnish variety for different tastes and devotional inclinations. 1. For the supernatural goodness which there is in the act of virtue itself. 2. To fulfil the precepts of God or the Church. 3. To obey our superiors. 4. To overcome and mortify self. 5. To satisfy for the sins of such and such a person: for, in order to satisfy for our own sins, it is not necessary to make a distinct oblation of our actions. For, every supernatural work of a just man satisfies for his sins of itself, if it be not offered for others. 6. That b}' this work we may worship, glorify, and please God in the highest degree.

7. That we may show Him our gratitude for all His gifts to us and to others, to the Sacred Humanity of our Blessed Lord, to our dear Lady, the angels, the saints, and even the unhappy ones who are lost.

8. That we may give good example and edification.

9. That by this action or word we may increase the habits of virtue which make us dear to God. 10. That we may become more like God. 11. That we may thus adorn our soul, and make it a more fitting temple for the Holy Ghost, and a more chaste member of Jesus Christ. 12. That we may so spread more widely the glory of Christ and the efficacy of His Precious Blood by thus multiplying supernatural actions in ourselves. 13. That we may gladden the Church Triumphant. 14. And adorn the Church

Militant. 15. And confound the evil spirits. 16. That we may call down more grace upon all the Body of Christ. 17. That we may thus before men, angels, and devils, exhibit the efficacy of the Blessed Eucharist. 18. That we may fulfil thereby our vows, or desires, or resolutions. 19. That we may be faithful to divine inspirations. 20. That we may imitate Christ and the Saints. 21. That we may thereby do honor to our dear Lady, our guardian angel, or our patron saint. And all these intentions will apply as well to the suffering of evil as to the doing of good.

Thus, in the secret laboratory of intention, is the dross of our commonest actions daily turned into the finest gold; and we may learn, to our great consolation, of what value these actions become in our Lord's sight, from His own revelation to St. Gertrude. As a covetous usurer, said He, would not willingly miss the opportunity of making a single penny, much more unwillingly would I allow one thought or one movement of your little finger made for My sake to perish, without My turning it to My own great praise and your eternal salvation. On another occasion, when she was suffering one night from weakness, she ate some grapes, with the mental intention of refreshing our Lord in herself. He on His part took this as a royal gift, and said to her, " In this I confess that you have recompensed Me for the bitter potion which I for your sake took upon the cross; for now I suck unspeakable sweetness out of your heart; for with how much greater purity of intention you recreate your body for My glory, with so much the more sweetness do I acknowledge myself recreated in your soul." Another time our Lord said to her, " My tenderness will accept one step, or one lifting of a straw from the ground, or one word, or one courteous gesture, or one Requiem seternam for the dead, or one word for sinners, or even for the just, if there be a pious intention along with it."

It is consoling, and perhaps, all things considered, not surprising, that the spiritual writings of the saints were much more condescending toward our low attainments and faint hearts than the writings of good men who are not saints. How often is the poor, timid, yet aspiring spirit wearied and cruelly beaten back by the hard, dry, theoretical system of some spiritual books! How full they are of heights, so high that an angel scarce could breathe upon them! They are ever putting before us an almost impossible detachment from creatures, a continual stress and strain of mind, a complete death of all natural activity, or else they tell us we are not in the right way. I do not say already on the mountain tops, but not even on the road. Again, they throw us almost into despair, by showing us how delusion is everywhere, and well-nigh inevitable; so that we abandon the pursuit of perfection altogether, as a state where God entices us only to take us at a disadvantage. How different are the writings of the saints! Even St. John of the Cross, the " doctor of nothingness," as he has been named, how sweet, encouraging, mild, hopeful, and gradual he is to the lowest of us in his teaching! Of my St. Philip, it used to be said, laughingly, in his lifetime, that he drove men to heaven in a carriage and four. Wise St. Ignatius said, that if men in religious houses were not fed well, they could never pray well; and in the work Of a Good Superior, we may see how he was always teasing the Father Ministers to get better food, and of a more expensive quality. He drove one nearly wild by insisting that all the community should have lampreys one Friday when they were very dear, so that only cardinals and ambassadors were buying them. St. Francis of Sales complained to the Bishop of Bel-ley of the bad dinners he gave him, yet he was the saint of pure love. Would that pure spirit, St. Alphonso, have been half so lax, if he had been but half as holy? Spiritual books tell us that if we indulge, for instance, our sense of smell in some fragrance, it is a huge immortification; yet St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi runs into the garden, plucks a flower, inhales the fragrance with delight, and cries out, " O good, most good God! who from all eternity destined this flower to give me, a sinner, this enjoyment." So I know not how St. Gertrude and her grapes would have fared with some spiritual writers. She would have been told that she should remember our Lord's thirst upon the cross, and that she should not give way, unless, indeed, she felt that she had not grace for the heights of perfection. You see our sweet Jesus took quite another view. Thus, also, St. Theresa, in her letter to Alonzo Velasquez, bishop of Osma, speaking of herself in the third person, says, " Besides what I have just mentioned, then again, as far as regards her body and health, I think she takes more care of it, and is less mortified in eating; neither has she such desires of doing penance as she used to have. But, in her opinion, all tends to this object, namely, to be able to serve God the more in other things; for she often offers Him, as an agreeable sacrifice, this care she takes of the body."¹ I am not saying it is easy to be a saint, but that saints deal more easily with those who are trying to be saints than uncanonized writers do. The saints are the easiest masters. It is because they are more like Jesus than the rest of men. Who-soever is trying to attain Christian perfection, let him follow St. Philip's rule, and keep to the books of authors " whose names begin with an S " — that is, the saints. If he puts himself too completely into the hands of other authors, the chances are ten to one that others, far behind him now, will one day meet him walking down the hill in dismay of soul, angry and disheartened, because his authors have dragged him through the brambles, and broken his knees upon the rocks, and given many an occasional roll down slippery steeps, while others have been stealing on with modest stealth, picking their way from one saintly footprint to another, as little urchins walk along the sea-sands, putting their tiny feet into the footprints which a big man leaves behind him, and if the strides are a little long and somewhat ludicrous, at least the quicksands are avoided.

But I must guard against being misunderstood. I am not saying that uncanonized spiritual writers are dangerous guides, or that their works are not most valuable, and many of them received with the applause of the Universal Church. All I mean is that, speaking generally, there is a very perceptible difference between the tone of writers that are saints, and writers that are not saints, and that the difference is that the saints are more condescending, and speak more indulgently; and further, still speaking generally, those persons, and they are not few, who are men of one book, and trust themselves utterly to one book, are safest when that book is the work of a saint. I do not forget that Thomas a Kempis is not a saint, and that St. Francis of Sales was a man of one book, and his author, Scupoli, the Theatine, is uncanonized. You must not push my words beyond a caution and a general proposition. The fact is, spiritual books are a tremendous power, and can harm as well as help, and, like steam, when they do harm, it is on a terrific scale.

But it was not simply because Gertrude was a saint that our Lord took such pleasure in this oblation of her ordinary actions. Once when the whole community were bowing at the words, Verbum caro factum est, out of reverence for our Lord's Incarnation, she understood our Lord to say, " Whenever any one with devout gratitude bows at these words, giving Me thanks because for the love of him I deigned to become Man, so often, impelled by the spur of My own tenderness, do I condescendingly bow to him in return; and with the most intimate affection of My Heart, I make a double offering to God the Father of all the fruit of My most Blessed Humanity, in augmentation of that man's eternal bliss." See, also, how He speaks of comforts: "Whosoever," said He, to St. Gertrude, " shall study to take all his recreations and use his comforts, in drinking, eating, sleeping, and the like, with this intention in his heart or mouth, Lord, I take this food, or whatever it may be, in union with that love wherewith Thou didst sanctify Thyself, when, in Thy most Sacred Humanity, Thou didst use like comforts, to the glory of the Father, and the salvation of the whole human race, that in union with Thy divine love it may increase the consolation of those in heaven, on earth, and in purgatory — he, each time he does so, is as it were a most firm shield in front of Me, against the many vexations with which worldly people persecute Me, and I look upon him as My protector and defender." Once, on the Thursday before the Carnival, after matins, Gertrude heard some servants in a neighboring house making a noise in the kitchen, preparing their breakfast. She sighed, and exclaimed, " Alas, my Lord! how early men rise in the morning to persecute Thee with their feasting! " But our Lord, smiling a little at her, replied, " Nay, dearest daughter! here is no need for sighing. They who are making the noise are not of the number who rage against Me with their gluttony; for by this breakfast they are incited to their daily toil. Wherefore I delight in their feeding, as a man rejoices when he sees his beast feed heartily, because it will serve him better."

O gentle Lord! why do not our hearts melt when we read these things of Thee? It is no taskmaster with whom we have to do! Such little toils and such great rewards! Such a profusion of mercies, and graces, and caresses! If the dog loves his master, and shows that he appreciates his kindness and attentions, how much more should we serve, and all for love, so dear a Master as our compassionate Lord? Yet, alas! we will persist in having such hard notions of our wonderful God. We will go on imitating the ungracious ways of the servant who hid his one talent in a napkin for fear of his Lord's austerity, and we will not own God for what He is, our almost incredibly indulgent Father. And. how he feels this rude perversity! " Hear, O ye heavens! and give ear, O earth! I have brought up children, and exalted them; but they have despised Me. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib; but Israel hath not known Me, and My people hath not understood."² Yet while we will not show Him the gratitude of beasts, He still covenants to be to us more than a mother to her child. When Sion said, " The Lord hath forsaken me, and the Lord hath forgotten me," He answered the cry, " Can a woman forget her infant, so as not to have pity on the son of her womb? and if she should forget, yet will not I forget Thee."f What is more necessary to true worship than a deep* and calm reverence? Nay, what is "more sweet to hot-hearted love than to be hushed and awe smitten in the presence of the refulgent attributes of God? Familiarity in religion would be a simple impertinence if reverence did not mingle with it. What more familiar than the relation between father and son, yet what love more reverent than filial love? Yet it was no true reverence which made Peter tell his Master to depart from him because he was a sinful man, or which made the craven men of Gadara beseech Jesus to withdraw His importunate blessings from their coast. But it was reverence which made Magdalene strive to hold the Risen Jesus by His feet, though it was not His will to suffer it. Too often, alas! we mistake coldness for reverence, and stiffness for respect. How sweetly did Jesus reprove that spirit when St. Gertrude complained to Him of one of her nuns who out of reverence, as she fancied, kept away from a community communion. " What would you have me do?" said our Blessed Lord, " these good people tie the bandage of their own unworthiness so tightly over their eyes that they cannot see the tenderness of My Paternal Heart."³

The spirit of St. Gertrude was so eminently a spirit of oblation and of familiarity, that when Lancisius wrote his treatise on the Presence of God, he devoted an entire chapter to the methods observed by her in the oblation of her ordinary actions. Eusebius Amort, in his examination of her revelations, notes the language of some of these methods as new in the Church, and not according to the language of the schools; though other grave authors quote them with approval. Omitting these, I will now mention some of her methods. f Sometimes she offered her actions in union with the mutual love of the Three Divine Persons of the Adorable Trinity. Sometimes she offered the pains and tears of Jesus for the negligences of her actions. Sometimes she made her oblation in union with the efficacious prayer of Jesus, and in the virtue of the Holy Ghost, for the emendation of her sins and the supply of her omissions. Sometimes in gratitude⁴ for blessings, she offered with, her thanks " that sweetness which in the supercelestial treasury of the Divinity, beyond all sense, and with infinite pleasure, the Divine Persons communicate to each other." Another of her offerings was all the Passion of God's dear Son from the hour when He first wept as He was laid upon the straw in the manger, to the hour when He bowed His head upon the cross, and with a loud cry gave up the ghost. This was for her sins. Then, in reparation for her negligences, she offered to the Father all the most holy conversation of his Son, which was faultlessly perfect in all thoughts, words, and deeds, from the hour when he was sent into the world, to the hour when He presented to His Father the glory of His victorious flesh. In union with her thanksgiving she offered back to God what He had given, and using the Sacred Heart of Jesus as a sweet-thrilling organ, she sounded it in the virtue of the Paraclete, and accompanying it with her songs, she sang to God praises on behalf of all the creatures in heaven, on earth, and beneath the earth, which have been, are, or ever shall be. At other times she made her offerings in union with the Divine Perfections; and our Lord Himself taught her to offer some actions to Him in union with the love by which God was made man. Once when she was offering to the Father all the holy conversation of His Only -Begotten, it seemed to her as if all the gems with which our Lord's vestments were adorned, moved in them, and gave out a most ravishing melody in praise of the Eternal Father; by which she knew how acceptable to God was this particular method of oblation.

At other times she made her offering in this way: " O Lord! I offer this work to Thee by Thine only Son, in the virtue of the Holy Ghost, to Thine eternal praise." It was then given her to see that by this intention her works were ennobled, and made magnificent beyond all human estimation; for, just as a thing looks green which is looked at through a green glass, or red through a red glass, so is every thing most pleasing and acceptable to God the Father, which is offered through His Only=Begotten Son. Sometimes she prayed our Lord that He would deign to offer for her all the perfections which He had on the day of His Ascension. At other times she offered her heart to God, to His eternal praise, to fulfil both in her body and her soul all His good pleasure. At this offering Jesus was pleased to show Himself so touched, that with great joy, and the utmost sweetness, He stooped from the cross, and embracing her with unspeakable exultation, He gently pressed her to the Wound of His most holy Side, and said, " Welcome, My dearest daughter! you are the most soothing ointment of My wounds, and the most sweet alleviation of My pains." Our Lord taught her also, by saying Alleluia, to praise God in union with all the heavenly citizens, who incessantly praise Him by that word in heaven. Sometimes she offered to God all the holy conversation of Jesus to supply for her deficiency since the hour of her baptism, in not affording such a Guest a worthy mansion in her soul; or, at the elevation of the Host, she made the same offering for all her want of correspondence to the inspirations of the Holy Ghost. Or, again, in union with the most spotless limbs of our Blessed Lord, she commended to Him, as He Himself had taught her to do, all the limbs of her body, with every movement of them, that from that time they should never move except for His love, and to His praise and glory. When she did this, she beheld a golden belt issue from the Heart of God, and clasp her soul, so as to unite it in indissoluble love with our Lord.

These are given as specimens of St. Gertrude's method and spirit, which may be suggestive to ourselves; not as recommending any of them particularly as fitting for ourselves. What a different idea we should have of our dearest Lord, if we practised any tiling of this sort! How would all our thoughts, and loves, and wishes, be quickly brought into subjection to Him! And does not this at least show us how the dryest and most secular occupation may, with ease and sweetness, be turned into a perpetual service of Divine love?

2. Besides these ordinary actions belonging to our state and calling in life, our recreation and free time should be filled with meritorious actions; so that Jesus may always be reaping a harvest of glory and of love in our hearts. Alas! how many in communities lose in recreation all they have gained in observance and in prayer; so that mortification is an easier duty in the religious life than recreation. Mariano Sozzini, a father of the Roman Oratory, mentions that one of the fathers in his day used, as he went daily from the refectory to the recreation-room, to pray for the four first fruits of the Holy Ghost, charity, joy, peace, and patience: because, to make recreation at once general and useful, these four gifts were required. Some have attained to such a practice of the presence of God, that when out walking, and engaged in conversation, they have contrived to say to God in their hearts at nearly every step they took, "/or Thy sake, for Thy sake; Propter Te, Propter Te;" and the same, while helping themselves at table, and at nearly all their gestures during meals. St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi told her novices to offer to God's glory, if it were possible, the very winking of their eyes, and the slightest motions of their limbs; and she promised them, if they would act in this way, that they should go straight to heaven, after their death, without the pains of purgatory. In order to get this practice more deeply rooted in them, she often asked, first one, and then another, quite unexpectedly, and whatever they were doing, with what intention they were acting. If some one gave her no answer at once, she gathered that she had begun her work without a previous intention, and reproved her for losing an occasion of merit, and taking away a pleasure from God. It is mentioned, of course, as a marvel, in the Life of Gregory Lopez, that for three whole years he had said in his heart at every respiration, " Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven;" and the habit was so formed in him, that if by chance he awoke during the night, he began to do the same. We cannot do these things, but it makes us love God more, to know that He has raised up men who could. Blessed be the Most Holy Trinity for all grace that has ever been in the spirits of angels, and the hearts of men!

There are many who desire to be all for God, and are fain to practice some such bodily austerities as they read of in the Lives of the Saints; but either their health is ailing and uncertain, or the}7 have not the courage to do penance, or, which is most common of all, the health and courage both are wanting. We need a treatise on perfection for valetudinarians. People in ailing health can do both more and less than those in a downright illness: and the more and the less want distinguishing and explaining. For valetudinarians, in the modern sense of the word, spiritual books are almost silent, though in the third tract of Father Baker's Sancta Sophia there is much that is to the purpose. Yet St. Bernard is said to have purposely chosen unhealthy sites for his monasteries, because he considered weak health a great help to contemplation and interior exercise. But nowadays nervousness, rheumatism, and an effeminate bringing up, do the work quite as effectually as the malaria of a woody swamp. Yet will any one rule that a valetudinarian cannot be a saint, or practise heroic virtue? Now, if such persons are really honest with themselves, they should look out for penances which neither give them the bodily pain they cannot bear, nor interfere with their infirmities. It is plain that to be scrupulous about the use of our time, is just such a penance as this. We can promise God that we will never willingly waste our time in occupations by which we cannot merit. Now this resolution is by no means easy to keep in these days; it will often be felt as a yoke, interfering with our natural liberty. Yet if we keep it, we shall really be doing penance, and at the same time reaping an immense harvest for the glory of God, the interests of Jesus, and the good of souls. This does not by any means forbid recreations. Everyone remembers the story of St. Charles Borromeo and his game of chess. When others were saying what they would forthwith begin to do if they knew they should die within an hour, the saint said he should go on with his chess; for he had begun it simply for God's glory, and he desired nothing better than to be called away in the midst of an action begun for the glory of God. It is easy to merit at play; for almost all pastimes are full of opportunities for the practice of virtues. It is quite possible to merit by reading a trashy novel, provided trashiness be its sole or worse defect; botli because it may be a duty to distract the mind, which can only be distracted by an interesting occupation, and also because the forcible contrast between the unreality of the foolish tale, and those solemn realities of the faith which generally engage us, draws forth from us many an act of love, and many an act of thanksgiving, for the faith, and for grace. But it is not easy to merit by idling about, by purposeless lounging, by wishing the time away, and voting things a bore, and by many kinds of frivolous, gossiping conversation. Religious people are, for the most part, not so scrupulous about the use of their time as they should be; yet, surely if, as we believe, St. Charles is a degree higher in heaven for his game of chess, it is a sad thing to miss so many opportunities of meriting, and so many occasions of advancing the interests of Jesus. Really the exact use of our time might almost be to many of us an index of the coolness or the fervor of our love. If an active practical Englishman was allowed a certain number of hours in a rich gold-digging, where the dirt was cleared away, and there was nothing to do but to pick 14 out the pure ore, he would think a man mad who would suggest to him to suspend his toil, unless fatigue reallycompelled him to do so. And this is just our case with the ordinary actions of our life, and even with our recreations. The real toil has been done by our Blessed Lord; the stones and the mud were His share; for us there is nothing left, if we choose, but the precious ore; and the hours for our gold-digging are numbered, and we know not how near the term we are. Alas! we shall never know the value of time, till it has slipped from us, and left us in eternity. Dearest Lord! will it leave us then with Thee?

St. Gertrude once told our Lord she wished to build Him a spiritual ark, and she asked Him how she was to do it. He answered her as follows: " It is commonly said among you that the ark of Noe had three stories, and that the birds were in the upper one, men in the middle, and the beasts below. Now take this for your model, and divide all your days upon this plan. From early morning to the hour of noon, you shall offer Me praises and thanks on behalf of the whole Church, with the warmest affection, for all the benefits I have ever conferred on men since creation, and especially for that adorable compassion which causes Me to let Myself be sacrificed on the altar in the Holy Mass, from dawn till noon, to the Eternal Father for men's salvation. While men make light of all this, and give themselves to pleasure and feasting, ungratefully forgetful of Me, do you in their stead, offer Me continual praises, and so will you seem to catch the volatile birds, and shut them up in the higher chamber of the ark. From noon to evening, be zealous daily to exercise yourself devoutly in good works, in union with the most holy intention wherewith all the works of My sacred Humanity were done, to make up for the negligences of the rest of the world; and this will be to congregate men in the middle chamber of the ark. From evening to dawn, in the bitterness of your heart, protest against men's impiety, whereby they not only refuse Me gratitude for what I have done, but provoke Me to auger by all manner of sins; and do you offer for their repentance the pain and bitterness of My most innocent Passion and Death, and thus will you gather the beasts into the lower chamber of the ark. " Yet, while our dear Lord thus traced out for St. Gertrude the way in which she was to spend her day, He knew of all her toils and cares, and that by obedience to her rule, she must, with her spiritual daughters, take her daily recreations, as well as discharge the minute duties of monastic government.

3. There is another and most profitable practice, — to do for your solitude what you do for your occupations. When you are alone, or awake in the night, offer up your solitude in union with the solitude of Jesus in the sepulchre and in the tabernacle; and do this, to impetrate for yourself and for those you love, the grace of a good death. 1. That you may die in the grace of God. 2. And with great merit, so as to glorify God all the more in heaven. 3. And having had great fruit in saving the souls for whom Christ died and was buried. 4. That you may die without fame and glory, as Jesus died without honor between two thieves. 5. And without any obligation of going to purgatory, 6, and leaving behind you a great treasure of satisfactions which you do not need yourself, and so which can be added to the treasures out of which the Church grants indulgences; and 7, that you may glorify God on earth even when you are dead, b}r the memory of your good works, by salutary advices given, or devout books written, or the abiding fruit of your prayers.

4. Through the practice of oblation we can merit by the commonest things, if we are in a state of grace. Every time we merit we give God a distinct glory, the interests of Jesus a distinct advancement, and the souls of men almost innumerable benefits through the communion of saints. Now, here is another way of meriting by common things, — rising to God by the sight of creatures. This, as you know, has been one of the commonest and most fervent practices of the saints. Lancisius says, You go out of your house and you see some people talking, pray that they may say no idle words for which they will have to give account. You hear the howling of the wind, pray for those who are at sea. You pass by a tavern, and hear the noise of those within, pray that they may not offend God, and that those who have done so may go to confession. When St. Athanasius sent for St. Pambo to leave the desert and come to Alexandria, the holy abbot saw a gaily dressed actress in the streets; whereupon he began to weep. When he was asked why he did so, he answered, " Two things move me; one is the damnation of that woman; and another is, that I do not take as much pains to please God as she does to please wicked men." You see even sinful things were steps to God for him. When you hear the pattering of the rain, thank God for it, and desire to offer Him as many good acts of faith, hope, charity, contrition, thanksgiving, humility, adoration, and petition, as there are drops in that shower; ask for the continual influx of the helps of grace in good measure, heaped up, shaken together, and running over, by which you and others may always act in the most perfect manner, and glorify God in the greatest possible degree.

When you are walking out or travelling, and pass any hamlet, village, or town, or the house of some great man, — 1, ask God, by the merits of those who dwell there, to have mercy upon you; 2, give Him thanks for all His blessings, past, present, and future, on the inhabitants; 3, commend to Him all the necessities, and beg Him to hear their prayers; 4, grieve for all the sins committed there; 5, ask for the remission of them; 6, commend to God the souls of those departed there. Surius tells us, in the life of St. Fulgentius, that when the saint went to Rome, and beheld all the palaces of the nobility, he cried out, " How beautiful must be the heavenly Jerusalem, if the earthly Rome shines thus! And if such dignity is given in this world to those who love vanity, what must be the glory of the saints who contemplate the truth! " We read of St. Martin of Tours, when visiting his diocese, that he was deeply affected by the sight of some cormorants fishing, because they represented to him in so lively a manner the devil's ways in catching souls. St. Bonaventure tells us that St. Francis carried the same practice to quite a remarkable extent; and Ribadeneyra says of St. Ignatius, " We have often seen him from the most trifling things rise to God, who is mighty in the least things; the sight of a little plant, a single leaf or fruit, a worm or an insect, would raise him in a moment above the heavens." Monsignor Strambi gives the following account of the Blessed Paul of the Cross, the Founder of the Passionists.* His holy intentions and desires were rewarded by the Lord with great spiritual consolation; and in his journey to make the visitation of his houses he fed his spirit with the sweet food of recollection. Coming once to the Ritiro of St. Eutizio, he turned to his companion, and said, " Whose are these lands? " His companion replied, " The lands of Gallese." But Paul, in a louder voice, said, " Whose ana these lands, I say? " His companion not understanding the drift of his question, after a few paces the holy Father turned to him, with his countenance shining like the sun, and cried out, " Whose are these lands? Ah! you do not understand me; they belong to the great God! " and instantly the impetuosity of his love lifted him and carried him some little distance along the road. Another time he was going from Terracina to Ceccano, through the wood of Fossanova, and after he had visited the monastery where St. Thomas Aquinas died, and was come into a thicket, he began to cry out to his companion impetuously, " Oh, do you not hear how these trees and leaves are crying out, Love God, Love God! " And then kindling more and more with Divine Love, his face began to dart out bright rays, and he kept exclaiming, " Oh, how is it you do not love God? How is it you do not love

*Vita, p. 137.

God?" And when they had got back again into the Roman road, he said to every one he met, " My brother! love God, love God, who deserves it so much! Do you not hear the very leaves of the trees crying out to us to love God? O Love of God! Love of God! " And he spoke with such unction, that the passers-by burst into tears. We read of him in another place that everything served to remind him of God, and he used to imagine that all creatures cried out to entreat the love of man for Him who made therm He was often observed when walking in the fields, especially during the spring season, to gaze earnestly at the flowers as he went along and to touch them with his stick, saying, " Hold your tongues, Hold your tongues! " And he used to tell his religious that the flowers were always calling upon them, to lift up their hearts in love and adoration toward their heavenly Creator.

As tastes in devotion are so various, my readers will forgive the following long extract from the Life of Father Peter Faber, the companion of St. Ignatius, by Orlandini. He was particularly eminent for his gift of turning everything to prayer. When he came near any city or town he used to pour out prayers for the inhabitants, and beg of God's mercy that the angel of the place, and the guardian angels of the inhabitants, might guard it with a special protection. He invoked also the patron saints of the place, and implored them to return thanks, or to beg pardon, or to impetrate grace for the inhabitants, and to supply for all their negligence and omission in these respects, that God might not be defrauded of any of His glory. In hiring a new house or changing his lodgings, it was his custorn, when he first entered the house, to go and kneel in all the rooms, corners, and cupboards that he could, and pray God to drive away the evil spirits, and all dangers and sorrows from the place; and in his prayer he remembered all those who had ever lived or ever should live there, and entreated that no injury might happen there to their souls. So studiously did he seek in every thing materials for prayer, that when he went to the palace of a certain prince to hear a sermon in the chapel, and was repulsed by a porter who did not know him, he found in this rudeness nothing but materials for prayer. What wonder if he had prayer so much at heart when he was well, that he should be assiduous in it when he was ill? When he was sick at Louvain, and unable to sleep, his painful watching only furnished him with materials for prayer. When his weakened head could hardly endure the vehemence of his headaches, he did nothing but make prayer out of our Lord's crown of thorns, until he was so inflamed with love that he melted into sweet tears. This perpetual pursuit of prayer he nourished and fed with variety in devotion. The life of Christ was indeed the food of his daily contemplation; for, where can the mind enjoy greater abundance as well as greater sweetness? Nevertheless, to foster his piety, he had invented manifold methods of prayer, suggested either b}T his accurate reading, or by doctrines, or by the impulse of the Holy Ghost. But there were three especially which he found so useful as well as so sweet, and yet quite easy, that he used to recommend confessors to teach them to their penitents. First, he had a great devotion to litanies, used them assiduously, and applied them to every occasion. He used them not merely to ask for blessings, which is the common use of litanies, but for the purposes of praise, thanksgiving, congratulation, and other exercises of the virtue of religion. One of his practices was to enter into the blessed court of heaven, and there, at the throne of the Most Holy Trinity, he would call on the Fatlier to delight in the Son and the Holy Spirit, the Son to do the same in the Father and the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit in the Father and the Son; and by this expression he meant the mutual gratulation of the Divine Persons which is called in the schools complacency. Then he besought the Queen of heaven to adore, in his name, or the name of some other, living or dead, the Most Holy Trinity; and then he implored the Holy Trinity to bless our Lady for all the gifts which pass to earth through her. Then he went to each choir of angels, and each order of the blessed, begging of them to offer thanks and praise for him or others to God, our Lady, or particular angels and saints.

His second mode of pra}rer was to go through all the mysteries of our Lord's life and death, skilfully accommodating them to the time and occasion, and then by each one of them calling separately on the Persons of the Most Holy Trinity, and the inhabitants of heaven.

His third manner of prayer he framed from the precepts of God and the Church, the doctrines of the faith, the seven mortal sins and the opposite virtues, the works of mercy, the five senses of man, and the three faculties of the soul. These he recalled in order, one after the other. The very variety of the things suggested various affections, sometimes petitions for pardon, sometimes for gifts, sometimes thanksgivings, not for himself only, or the living, but for the dead also, begging God to condone to them whatever they might still owe Him on the score of the first commandment, or the second, and so on, and the same with the sins, the works of mercjr, the senses, and the powers of the soul.

These three methods of prayer were quite familiar to him. Neither must we omit to observe how much a knowledge of doctrine helped him, as Orlandini expressly says. He also fell in with a book of St. Gertrude's, out of which he acknowledged that he had drawn ample materials for prayer to his own great profit. The variety of the ecclesiastical times and seasons also supplied him with an admirable variety of devotions. And this variety, this vicissitude of successive devotions, he found so to sustain and whet his appetite at the banquet of prayer, that he never went to any religious action out of habit or custom or mere rule, whether it were to his meditation or to mass; but came daily new and fresh to his most habitual devotions; just as Blessed Paul of the Cross confessed that he never remembered having once said mass out of mere habitude, which few priests so old could say.

There are others to whose fervor such a variety seems fatal, so differently does it please God to lead souls that are dear to Him: and all His ways are good, because they are His. Few indeed are like Marie Denise of the Visitation, whom God led by the way of multiplicity of devotions; so that when one of the community saw her manuscript book with all her services and intentions noted down, and said to her, " Dear Sister Marie Denise, why do you say such a multitude of prayers? " the sister replied, " Because God has shown me that He created me for this end."

There is a great difference between having a variety of mental devotions, and loading ourselves with an indiscreet number of vocal prayers; and what spiritual writers say of the one case does not always apply equally to the other. Yet, there is no mistake more common than to confound the two. Now, the loading of ourselves with an immense number of vocal prayers is not always, (for there is no alicays in spiritual science, except where sin is in question,) but almost always, a simple evil. How many are there who began their fight well, but soon grew weak and weary on the wing, and at last fell to the earth, entangled in litanies, overloaded with Memorares, encumbered with rosaries, or helplessly pinioned by the obligations of a score of Third Orders and Confraternities! They have ruined themselves with holy things: and have done so, ten to one, without any one's knowledge or permission.

Having a great variety of mental devotions may often be an evil, but it is a different thing from this; and the unqualified censure which some rigorous authors pass upon all such variety, is certainly not in keeping either with the practice of the saints, or with the milder teaching of their works. There is nothing a man so soon becomes attached to as a system of spiritual direction, and so completely does his own one favorite way seem to him the sole safe way, that he can hardly realize the diversity of God's operations, or give the Holy Ghost liberty in the hearts of those whom he is training. We know well enough that solid mortification and persevering self-abjection are the real roads to the highest sanctity; but are persons to sit down weeping by the low wayside of the most ordinary attainments, unless they have the heart to scale the rugged heights? Are there no other paths of love that lie higher on the mountain breast, above the plain, though lower far than those ambitious pinnacles? Ah! how many are sent low, held low, and forced lower, by being unwisely forced too high! " A good superior," said St. Jane Frances de Chantal, " must learn to fly low as well as to fly high; " and the first is a harder duty than the last; for, mark the words, it is not to be low, or to rest low, but to fly low. Now, it may be quite true that the shortest and directest road to high sanctity is found in keeping to one thing, one subject of meditation, one examen, one exercise of devotion, and that this painful unity should be kept up for some years without a change, as a celebrated writer recommends. Yet who is sufficient for these things? People living in the world, without the helps of a religious house, with no novitiate, no set penances in community, but with a thousand necessary distracting duties, and the unavoidable diversions of social intercourse,— how are they to do these things? And yet they have a call to love; they will not to be kept down. You must have a process for withering their souls, or you must fill them with the dews of heaven. Hence it is we so often see those spiritual anomalies of a devout life, half filled with the practices of the demure cloister, and half with the appurtenances of a London season. And what comes of these fitful vagaries? Unhappiness, failure, and vehement self-abandonment to worldly pleasures, as if in revenge for past strictness, and a lower lowness of the Christian life, which I hardly like to think of. Any thing comes of these experiments, except high sanctity, or low sanctity either. They result in no sanctity at all.

There are not a few who think that devotion to be solid must be dry. But does the dry system answer? We hear people condemning unlucky devotees, be* cause they are fond of functions and benedictions, of warm devotions and of pictures of the Madonna, of feasts and foreign practices, for with such, an Italian devotion is something next door to a heresy; I suppose because it has the remarkable bad fortune to come from the Holy City! Now, does it follow, that because persons are fond of these things, they have nothing else in their piety? Because they have one characteristic of good Catholics, are they therefore destitute of the others? Because they like flowers, do they reject fruit? Oh, but mortification is the thing, and the conscientious discharge of our relative duties. Very true; and pray, what mortifications do you practise, honest disciple of dry devotion? Are they exterior, the hair-shirt, the discipline? Or interior, loving to be spoken ill of, and lightly esteemed? And how do you discharge your relative duties? Almsgiving, for example, is one, and to keep yourself unspotted from the world is another. How do these things fare with you? Be honest with yourselves, or, much more, be honest with God. Whether we want mortifications or relative duties to edify us, I suspect we must seek them with the devotees, not with you. If, instead of the definition of the Immaculate Conception, you would have enthusiasm added to the number of mortal sins, to what post of honor are we to assume tepidity? It is just possible that enthusiasm may not be quite the monster evil of the world: at least, we have not suffered much from its ravages here in England. And anyhow, in spiritual matters, what we have most to dread is the evil we are most likely to fall into: and I assure you, you at least have no danger to apprehend from hot-hearted enthusiasm or ultra-piety.

On the other hand, it may not unfrequently happen that souls, who want something beyond this dry solidity, (if any thing dry can be solid in a religion which is all of love,) may, by being allowed scope for the fervor of first beginnings in devotional variety, diversion, interest, and even change, ultimately mount to higher things, and climb with a more manly courage the rougher and directer roads to holiness. But see how God is calling souls, and lead them by the gentlest and most winning ways, unless there be a clear vocation to the hard and rough. Many are lost, because they are forced too high, and many more, because they are made to fear sensible devotion, and to believe that dryness is solidity. Oh, do any thing, I beseech you, rather than tire people of their good, compassionate God! Rather interest them in Him, if you can, and all you can. Souls are gravely warned, without regard to time, or place, or person, or condition, to be detached from the gifts of God, and to eschew sweet feelings, and gushing fervors, when the danger is rather in their attachment to their carriage and horses, their carpets and their old china, the parks and the opera, and the dear bright world. Why, if the poor Belgravians could get a little attachment, were it only to an image or a holy water-stoup, and I care not how inordinate, it would be a welcome miracle of grace, considering all they have to keep them far from God, for they move in a sphere which seems to lie outside His omnipresence. No! no! the warnings of St. Theresa to Barefooted Carmelites are hardly fit for such as those. Oh, better far to flutter like a moth round the candles of a gay benediction, than lie without love in the proprieties of sensual ease and worldly comfort, which seem, but perhaps are not, (and you cannot tell,) without actual sin.

5. Another method of glorifying God by little and common things, is the practice of ejaculatory prayer. This is not the place to enter at length into this subject. Its connection with the matter now before us is obvious. It was the chief practice of the Fathers of the Desert by which they raised themselves to such heights of sanctity. St. Francis of Sales says, "That the great fabric of devotion leans upon this exercise, that it can supply the defects of all other prayers, and that all other prayers cannot supply the defect of it." The Abbot Isaac in Cassian, tells us wonderful things of that single ejaculation, "Deus in Adjutorium, &c." When Father Brandano was going into Portugal, he asked St. Ignatius in what devotions the scholastics of the society were to be exercised. The Saint replied, ' That, besides the usual formal devotions, they were to exercise themselves in seeking our Lord's presence in all things, in talking, walking, looking about them, listening, thinking, and every thing, as it is certain that the Divine Majesty is in all things in at least three ways, by essence, presence, and power." He said, " that this exercise of finding God in every thing was less laborious than meditations on abstract matters, and causes God to visit us in wonderful ways, even for one brief ejaculation." Thus we may sigh for God's glory, send up to heaven one arrow-like word about the interests of Jesus in the streets of London, or breathe a little prayer for souls, wherever we are. Without any constraint we may make scores of them in a day; and each one is more to God than a battle gained, or a scientific discovery, or a crystal palace, or a change of ministry, or a political revolution. Many of these ejaculations are indulgenced, and thus the same little brief sentence will, 1. gain merit, 2. impetrate grace, 3. satisfy for sin, 4. glorify God, 5. honor Jesus and His Mother, 6. convert sinners, and 7. soothe with substantial indulgence the Holy souls in Purgatory. Can we do nothing more for Jesus in this respect than we have done hitherto? O Love! Love! You yourself must tell us, and teach us how, and remind us when we forget.

But in order to attain all these ends, it is not enough that our vocal ejaculations should be uttered in a slovenly, off-hand way, or without an inward attention. It is often the fashion nowadays to speak with disesteem of vocal prayer; yet it should not be forgotten that there have been heresies on the subject in very modern times, and that the censure of condemned propositions lies upon them. It was by means of vocal prayer that the Fathers of the Desert rose to such heights of sanctity, and Father Baker tells us * that even now God occasionally leads souls thereby to the heights of contemplation and mystical union. He gives the following reasons for the effect of vocal prayer being different on the ancients to what it is on us. " One reason was their incomparably more abstraction of life, more rigorous solitude and almost perpetual silence, of the practice of which in these days, it is believed, we are not capable. A second was their fasts, abstinences, and other austerities beyond the strength of our infirm corporal complexions. A third was their external employments out of the set times of prayer, the which did far better dispose souls to recollection, to attendance on the Divine Inspirations, than those ordinarily practised in these days."

As Father Baker's work is so rare, my readers will thank me for the clauses in which he sums up his doctrine concerning vocal prayer. " Now, whereas to all manner of prayer there is necessarily required an attention of the mind, without which it is not prayer, we must know that there are several kinds and degrees of attention; all of them good, but yet one more perfect and profitable than another. For, 1. There is an attention or express reflection on the words and sense of the sentence pronounced by the tongue, or revolved in the mind. Now, this attention being, in vocal prayer, necessarily to vary and change, according as sentences in the Psalms, &c, do succeed one another, cannot so powerfully and efficaciously fix the mind or affections on God; because they are presently to be recalled to new considerations or succeeding affec-⁵ tions. This is the lowest and most imperfect degree of attention; of which all souls are in some measure capable; and the more imperfect they are, the less difficulty there is in yielding it; for souls that have good and established affections to God, can hardly quit a good affection by which they are united to God, and which they find gustful and profitable for them, to exchange it for a new one succeeding in the office; and if they should, it would be to their prejudice.

" The second degree is that of souls indifferently well practised in internal prayer, who coming to the reciting of the Office, and either bringing with them, or by occasion of such reciting, raising in themselves an efficacious affection to God, do desire, without variation, to continue it with as profound a recollectedness as they may, not at all heeding whether it be suitable to the sense of the present passage which they pronounce. This is an attention to God, though not to the words, and is far more beneficial than the former. And, therefore, to oblige any souls to quit such an attention for the former, would be both prejudicial and unreasonable. For, since all vocal prayers, in Scripture and otherwise, were ordained only to this end, to supply and furnish the soul that needs, with good matter of affection, by which it may be united to God, a soul that hath already attained to that end, which is union, as long as it lasts ought not to be separated therefrom, and be obliged to seek a new means, till the virtue of the former be spent.

" A third and most sublime degree of attention to the Divine Office is, that whereby vocal prayers do become mental: that is, whereby souls most profoundly, and with a perfect simplicity united to God, can yet, without any prejudice to such union, attend also to the sense and spirit of each passage that they pronounce; yea, thereby find their affection, adhesion, and union, increased, and more simplified. This attention comes not till a soul be arrived to perfect contemplation, by means of which the spirit is so habitually united to God, and besides, the imagination so subdued to the spirit, that it cannot rest upon any thing that will distract it.

" Happy are those souls, of which, God knows, the number is very small, that have attained to this third degree; the which must be ascended to by a careful practice of the two former in their order, especially of the second degree. And, therefore, in reciting of the Office, even the more imperfect souls may do well, whensoever they find themselves in a good measure recollected, to continue so long as they well can, preserving as much stability in their imagination as may be. And the best means to beget and increase such a recollected way of saying the Divine Office is the practice of Internal Prayer, either in meditation or immediate acts of the will; the only aim and end whereof is, the procuring an immovable attention and adhesion of the spirit to God."⁶

6. It is as well to repeat again, that we may thus offer, in union with the merits of our dear Lord, and of all those sublime supernatural treasures which we considered in the last chapter, not only our ordinary actions, but every thing also that happens to us. Our little sufferings, pains, contradictions, and weariness, may thus every one of them be made missioners to speed the faith, apostles to convert sinners, and angels to praise the Majesty of God. Our little mortifications too, few and cowardly as they may be, with the stripes and thorns, the lance and the nails, touching them, can draw the Heart of Jesus toward us and others with tremendous power. The grace we have received during the day may be doubled by being offered up at night in union with His grace from whom ours came. Thus does Jesus help us to love Him; thus does He make us kings and priests already. If we truly mourn because He is offended, if we truly thirst after the glory of our merciful Father, if we are touched with pity for poor, graceless, or tempted souls, see what marvels we can do without so much as turning out of our way, or distracting ourselves from our business, or even, so our dear Lord has contrived, omitting our pastimes and recreations. Verily, all things are meant for Jesus; and when we see what we can do, and, alas! what we have not done, we may begin to think that there is no corner of earth where the harvest of God's glory is scantier or less thriving than in our own poor hearts.

Is there not a nursery tale of some one who turned to gold whatever he touched, and was soon embarrassed by his marvellous gift? This is our case under the Gospel, under the law of grace. All we touch turns to gold, by intention or oblation. Yet our gift need never embarrass us. We shall never fill God with glory, nor heaven with merits. But it will be a sad thing at the end of life to look back upon the millions of wasted opportunities. But now, some one may say, how are we to note them, and to remember them now, as they come before us in such multitudes, and so incessantly? I answer, "Not by any rule which can be given; nor by any formal method which can be devised. You must love. You must love. You must love. There is no other way. There is no help for it. Love will teach you every thing, and tell you the secrets of Jesus. Love will make things easy and sweet. Love will be a new nature to you. There is nothing you want which love will not do for you, or get for you, and nothing else but love can do it. You must love." And is it hard to love Jesus? Oh, surely, the difficulty is not to love Him; the difficulty rather is, to love Him little, if we love at all!

I wish we could really see and feel what it is to be allowed to please God. If we saved the life of the queen's child, we should not easily forget the grateful look of the royal mother's face; it would be long before her burning words of thanks died away in our ears; a sovereign's tears, and those tears of joy, are not things to be readily forgotten. But what a very unimportant thing this is compared with being allowed if it were but once in our lives, to please God! The thought really grows upon us till it overshadows our spirits. Think what we are, our origin, our rebellion, our natural infirmities, our personal vileness, our horrible guilt, our despicable unloveliness; and then there is God, the Invisible, all Holy, Incomprehensible God, and he stoops to be pleased with us, and He longs that we should try to please Him, and He contrives all nature so as that by grace we may please Him more, and He gives us numerous supernatural ways and powers of pleasing Him! The immensity of this condescension is simply inexpressible. Oh, that our dearest Lord would enlarge our hearts, that we might take it in! But why talk of taking in one of His condescensions? Why, he makes our hearts large enough to take Himself in, Body, Soul, Divinity! Thus our thoughts run off to another condescension, another love. This is always the way; one overtops another; there is no end; climb one height, and there are higher heights; and all is love! love! love! Dear God! dear God! St. Gertrude said we might call Him so! and what else can we call Him? Oh, why do we not love Him? Most dear God! So dear beyond word or thought!

If we think of these three things, God, ourselves, and the supernaturalness of the system in which we are, we shall surely at length come to see that the capabilities we, who are neither saints, nor like saints, nor in sight of being saints, have of glorifying God are positively awful and frightening. First, if we unite our actions with those of Jesus, they gain almost an infinite value. What we have to offer to God is something like infinite. Nay, we can offer Jesus, who is infinite. We can offer God His Equal! and that in every thing we do, or say, or think, or suffer. Next, consider the multiplicity of our actions. There is no reckoning them. They run ahead of our figures almost at once. Two men are advised to get up early in the morning to make half an hour's meditation. One does, and the other does not. The one who does, merits, and so glorifies God more, unspeakably more than all physical science or art unions have glorified

Him since the Flood; 1, by the mortification of rising early; 2, by his modesty in dressing; 3, by his act of the Presence of God; 4, by his sign of the cross; 5, by his preparatory prayers; 6, by his meditations; 7, by the penance of his posture, weariness or distraction; 8, by the resolutions at the end; 9, by each ejaculation all through it; and 10, by the obedience of the whole duty. It would be more correct to say that each of these ten merits were bundles of many merits. But put them at ten. This one little practice would give the following results. In each year he would glorify God three thousand six hundred and fifty times by that one action, and each of these times he would please God, and to be allowed to do so once in all eternity would be an unspeakable condescension, and each time he would glorif}- Him more than all physical science has ever done, because he would glorify Him supernaturally.

After the multiplicity of our actions, consider the ease of this devotion of offering them up to God in union with the merits of His Son. One glance at Jesus, and it is done. There needs no word, no sigh, no train of thought. Love looks to Jesus, and all is accomplished. Then remember, each merit implies a new degree of grace, and each degree of grace a corresponding degree of eternal glory, if we die with the gift of perseverance. Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived one single degree of beatific glory; and then we have to multiply all this millions and millions of times; and if we fell into deadly sin, and then had the grace to ask, just to ask contritely, and in our Lord's own easy way, for the Precious

Blood, Jesus thinks it nothing merely to forgive us, but He must also put back to our account all this formidable sum total of merits; so passionately does He long to have us with Him in heaven for ever! And yet there are such things as lukewarm Catholics! My Jesus! and how patiently Thou bearest with them! Thou hast covered the whole earth with a net of love, which Thou hast been busily devising from all eternity! We break it all to pieces, and what dost Thou do, sweetest, dearest, kindest Lord? Thou set-test to work with the most unconquerable love to net a new one of merciful precept and cheerful fear, and catchest in that the foolish souls that would not be caught by love!

Oh, how sweet it is to be saved b}' Jesus! it seems as if it were better than if we had never fallen. It is such a joy to owe every thing to Jesus. Such a joy not to be able to do without Him for one moment. Such a joy to find Him every where, and always to find Him laying us under new obligations, and binding us with fresh chains of love! Oh, that we were bound so fast to Him that we could never get loose from Him! But this is the heavenliness of purgatory, that we are His, His own, His very own, unalterably, for ever! Surely Adam's nine hundred years of penance among the brambles of the lonely world would be worth living, if only we might be allowed to make one heart love Jesus a single degree more! And yet here we are in His blessed Church, where the beginning, middle, and end of our whole religion is, that all things are ours, and we are Christ's, and Christ is God's!

If there is one thing more inexpressibly touching than another, it is God, the Everlasting Holiness, begging glory of His creatures on His own earth. The love it breeds is sharp as a smart. It is like a father suffering martyrdom for his guilty child. And then to see Him, the suppliant Creator, the Almighty mendicant, refused the alms He asks! Does it not make us wild? Wild with love? And who refuses Him so often as ourselves? Alas! who will give to our eyes rivers of tears to weep day and night for this? Verily it is more inconceivable that men should not love God than that there should be Three Persons in One God! And yet, what can be more winning than God, what more fatherly than God? He asks glory of us, asks glory of us, such as we are! Why, why do we not love Him? What can He do more? He asked that Himself ages ago: What can I do that I have not done? Yes, what can He do more? Oh, look children of God, look! He is in His own world, behaving and arranging all, blessed be His most dear Majesty! just as if we, not He, were the final cause of all creation!

Footnotes

1. Daltou's Translation, vol. i. p. 16. ↩

2. Iaaias i. 3. t Isaias xlix. 14. ↩

3. Rev. iii. x. sub. fine. ↩

4. In a similar manner, Schram, in his Mystical Theology, censures as almost heretical, ejaculations which St. Francis of Sales quotes with tenderness and relish. Yet in doctrinal matters it may be safer for us to follow the colder and more cautious author. Besides, lie wrote later. ↩

5. Sancta Sophia, i. 202. and ii. 8 et seqq. ↩

6. ii. 13, 14, 15. ↩