Letters 26–31
Letter 26
What you, sir, have most to fear is self-indulgence and love of amusement. These two faults are enough to hinder terribly even those who are most determined to do what is right and to shun vice. Self-'indulgence is the soul^s languor, which numbs it and deprives it of all energy for doing good; but it is a very treacherous languor, secretly exciting the soul to sin, and hiding a devouring fire beneath its seeming slow ashes. You need a vigorous, manly faith to check this indolent softness unremittingly. If once you parley with it, all is lost. And moreover, it is as mischievous in worldly matters as in spiritual. Self-indulgence deprives a man of everything that might make him great; a self-indulgent man is scarce a man, he is a poor effeminate creature. The love of ease overpowers his best interests; he cannot cultivate his talents, nor acquire the knowledge necessary for a profession, nor undergo the regular work of a troublesome office, nor submit to the tastes and tempers of others, nor work bravely at the correction of his own faults. He is the sluggard of Holy Scripture, who " desireth, and hath nothing," ' who desires to
TO A GENTLEMAN 57 do what is right at a distance, but drops back languidly as soon as he comes face to face with work. What can you do with such a man? he is good for nothing. Business wearies him, steady reading bores him, military duties interfere with his pleasures, even assiduous Court duties are a restraint. He would fain spend his life on a bed of down! If he works, minutes seem like hours; but when he is amusing himself, hours pass like minutes. His time slips away, he cannot say what he does with it; it glides past like water beneath a bridge. Ask him how he has spent the morning? he cannot tell, for he has lived without realising life. He slept as late as he could, dressed slowly, gossiped with any one who turned up, dawdled about his room, perhaps heard Mass lazily. Then came dinner, the evening went like the morning, and the whole of life like the day. Again I say it, such a man is good for nothing. A little pride would make a man ashamed to see himself such a poor creature; and a mere worldly consideration should be enough to fill him with disgust at his own folly.
Such a man is not merely incapable of any good, he is sure gradually to fall into great evil. Pleasure will betray him. The flesh cannot be indulged with impunity. For a time it seems merely indolent and passive, but all at once it will become brutal and violent; and the flame will not show itself till it is too late to extinguish it.
You must watch lest even your religious impressions, mingled with your self-indulgence, should lead you gradually into a way of life which, while externally well regulated, is hollow within. You LE'rrERS may think much of giving up the society of foolish early days, and not perceive that religion is a mere pretext in the matter;-you give them up because they bore you, because you are no longer in fashion, because you are not noisy and rattling enough to suit them. All this may lead you, through inclination, to a graver, quieter life; but beware lest it be just as hollow and unreal as the other. A grossly self-indulgent man, whose passions triumph over him, leads a contemptible, vile, wretched life, which even the world in its worldliness despises. In this way you may by degrees leave the world, not for God, but for your own passions; or at least for an indolent life hardly less opposed to God, and which in the world's eye is more despicable even than the utmost depravity. You may only forsake great sins to be steeped in trifles and follies at which all save children should blush.
Now let us see what means you can take to guard against this. First of all, make a plan for employing your time, and keep to it at any cost Next, let the chief feature of this plan be a daily half-hour spent in meditative reading, in which you never should neglect to renew your resolutions against self-indulgence. Thirdly, examine yourself every evening, to see whether you have yielded to self-indulgence and lost your time. Fourthly, go regularly every fortnight to some confessor who understands your tendency, and will help you to keep up a vigorous struggle against it- Fifthly, if possible get some good friend or faithful attendant to warn you privately when he sees that you are beginning to give way. To be able to profit by such warnings
TO A GENTLEMAN 59 yoa must seek them heartily, and let people see that you are thankful to receive them, and trying to make use of them; never show vexation or pride when such admonitions are given.
As to your occupations, you should have a rule, whether you are at Court or with the army, and arrange everything so as not readily to alter. In the morning especially secure your reading and meditation while you are supposed to be still in bed. Read again in the evening; and if you feel able to recollect yourself a little while when so doing, you will gradually get into the habit of making a short meditation then as well as in the morning. But at first do not tire yoiirself, so as to grow weary of your prayers. During Mass you might read the Epistle and Gospel, in order to unite yourself to the priest in the great Sacrifice of Jesus Christ, and some thought drawn thence will help you to keep your mind uplifted to God.
Mix courteously with all in the places where every one goes: at Court, in the King's presence, with the army, among the generals, etc. You should try to acquire that courtesy which gives a man a dignified deference towards all; no selfimportance, no affectation; knowing how to treat every one according to his rank, reputation, merit, or credit; rendering esteem to merit, confidence and attachment to upright ability, and due ceremony and form to dignities; paying what is due to the world's external claims, courteous towards all, but intimate with few. Evil company is especially damaging to a young, and as yet untried, man. You need associate intimately with but few people;
Co not at all with those who are notoriously unworthy. Do not ridicule them, but keep away from them.
Read such books as are suitable to your position; above all, your own country's history. If you mix civilly and socially with the world abroad, and have sensible occupations at home, you need not fear to live a retired life. Just as an idle retirement is unworthy, so a well-spent, active retirement raises a man above the do-nothings, who never even learn their own profession. If it is known that you work hard to leave nothing concerning war and history unlearned, nobody will presume to criticise your devotion; indeed, most people will not even suspect you of it, they will take you merely to be worldly wise. In this way you may escape mere idle society, and have time to give yourself to God and to the duties of the position in which He has placed you.
Not to say that you should never appear to esteem yourself above anybody, you should seek to have a certain simple, natural^ straightforward manner, an open countenance, and kindly consideration in ordinary matters; in everything you should be liberal, noble-hearted, kindly, benevolent, quick to appreciate worth, ready to oblige, and regretful when unable so to do, delicate in meeting people half-way, in entering into their feelings, sparing them annoyance, suggestive, knowing how to enhance kindness by avoiding display. Worldly pride does all this in its own interest, and religion should turn the same road to its own ends, through higher motives. Nothing is so noble, delicate, grand, heroic, as the heart of a true Christian; but
TO A GENTLEMAN 6 1 there must be no insincerity, no affectation in him, nothing save simplicity, modesty, and reality.
So much for what concerns your public life. Then as to superficial friends: you must not reckon on such, nor use them save in urgent necessity; but be useful to them as far as you can, without creating too close a connection. ... As to your true friends, they should be very carefully chosen, and consequently few in number. Have no intimates who are not God-fearing men, and ruled by the true maxims of religion, or you will be damaged, however attractive such may be. If you can, let your friends be somewhat older than yourself; this will tend to ripen your own character. Be quite open with real friends, unreserved save in what concerns others. Let your friendship be hearty, disinterested, constant, practical; yet never be blind as to the faults of your friends; let them always find you ready in the time of need, and never be slack when they are in trouble.
Treat your servants considerately, let your authority be at once firm and kind. Take pains to enter into their wants, to do whatever you can for them, to reward merit, and to attach them sincerely to you. Bear with their faults when not serious, and when they are anxious to amend, and only dismiss such persons as you feel cannot be trained into filling their position duly.
Finally, remember (and here I end as I began) that self-indulgence enervates and weakens everything, eliminating all power and life from mind and body, even from the world's point of view. A man who yields to self-indulgence is small and weak in everything; he will be so lukewarm that God will reject him.' And the world too will do the like, for it will have nothing to say save to those who are brisk and vigorous. So the self-indulgent man will be cast out both by God and the world; he is a mere nought, ignored and despised. Beware of this fault, the source of so much evil. Pray, watch. Watch against self. Pinch yourself, as you would pinch one in a lethargy. Get your friends to prick and rouse you. Seek the Sacraments diligently, they arc the fountains of life; and do not forget that in this case God and the world are for once agreed: . — neither kingdom can be won without taking it by storni.
Letter 27
tS:o a Gentleman. 0n Cj^eHftatlon.
Certainly, sir, you ought to make a short meditation every morning, placing yourself in God's Presence, worshipping Him, offering yourself wholly to Him, and asking the Help of His Holy Spirit ini what you are about to do. You know how we have done this together; it cannot be too simply done. Do not seek God in fine reflections or extraordinary emotions; speak simply, briefly, not in a studied way to Him — out of the fulness of your heart, as to a real friend. Take two or three considerations on the most weighty truths of Christianity. You can take them either from the Imitation or from the Retreats you have heard. Follow your own inclinations as to this, or rather the leadings of grace. . . ♦
TO A GENTLEMAN 63
I should read as little as may be, and directly I came to one or two imp>ortant truths, I would stop to dwell upon them with recollection, and to work them into my heart after having grasped them technically. If afterwards I found my meditation getting too dry and lifeless, I would turn again to the book, so as to recall my subject and fix my mind.
At first, be satisfied with a quarter of an hour for meditation, in case you become weary and dry; but if you find yourself able to go on for half an hour without tiring your head, do so. Generally speaking, it is best to begin with a short time, and gradually train yourself. You might do the same for another quarter of an hour at night, and so by degrees your meditation will become half an hour long. I assume that you will always proceed to make some practical resolution, ending with an act of self-abandonment to God, and of thanksgiving for the help He has given you.
As to your spiritual reading, which ought to be systematic, it should be for a good quarter of an hour, and very slow. Read on your own behalf; I mean, do not stop short in believing what you read, but apply it to yourself, and think over the practical results of every precept as concerns you. In this way try not only to gratify your tastes, but to digest this sacred food for your soul's nourishment. And moreover, it requires thorough mastication in order to be well digested; people who bolt their food quickly are apt to get attacks of indigestion instead of nourishment. It is better to read but little, and that attentively. Careful read- ing insensibly becomes a sort of meditation^ whereas otherwise it often drifts into what is vague and unprofitable. Too much variety in spiritual reading, as in other things, tends to dissipate the mind, scatter and waste it.
You might read with profit S. Francis de Sales* Introduction to the Devout Life, then some of Rodriguez' writings, especially one on Conformity to the Will of God, going on to S. Francis* Entretiens,
XXVill.
tElo flDne in tSDrouble.
Let yourself go where God leads you — one while up, another time down — though such vicissitudes are a severe trial. If we were always in trouble, we should grow callous, or else fail under it; but intervals of breathing- time restore strength, and make the renewal of our griefs even sharper than before. As for myself, when I suffer, I can see nothing but unlimited suffering before me; and when the time of consolation comes, my natural impulse is to dread accepting it, lest it be a mere delusion which will make the renewed cross heavier. But I think real faith should take good and evil alike as they come, bearing all such disturbances patiently. The thing is to let one's self be comforted when God comforts, be overtaken when He overtakes, afflicted when He afflicts. While saying all this to you, I myself am horribly afraid of all that I know these troubles bring. I shudder at the mere shadow of the cross; but this,
TO ONE IN TROUBLE 65 if exterior only, and without the inner cross of desolation, dread, and. agony, would be as nothing. I say this generally, just because it is strongly before my mind to-day. I am at this moment in a statd of dry, hard tranquillity. I know not what to-morrow may bring. God will do as seemetli Him good; and whatever comes will be my daily bread,, though sometimes that seems very, hard and unacceptable to the digestion. Listen to the Voice of God, not to your own voice; therein is the true liberty, peace, and joy of the Holy Spirit.
Letter 29
0n ^eparstion from JFr(enii0.
I AM ever united with you and your dear belong? ings; do not doubt it. We are very near one another without meeting, while some people are far apart when occupying the same room.. God unites all,, and obliterates the greatest distance where hearts united in Him are concerned. In that ■Centre he who is in China or Japan and those in France meet one another. I do not cease to' feel the privation of your presence, but we must.bear it patiently, so long as it pleases God; iintil death, if it be His Will. Keep to your real duties; be qui6t and recollected, diligent in your business, patient under your domestic troubles. May God's Blessing be on your household. ## Letter 30
®n He I).«j;«t, of,„ «„j J>i*p.,ft(o„. 1 AM greatly touched by the kind letter you write I see and value the feeling it shows. May gS preserve you ani.d the conugion of the times t£ chief thing for you is to mistrust your own easin<»s and your natural activity. You are more disJS than most men to be easily dissipated; • and whS this happens, you are weakened. As your strengrt^ can only come from God, you must noi be surpriSd If It fails you so soon as you fail towards Him It,s a great thing if God upholds us when we cl'eave to Him, but It seems inevitable that He should suffer us to fall when we are fearless of dan-er and venture presumptuously from without His^Shield The only resource against our weakness is in recollection and prayer. You need this help more than most Your naturally easy disposition is quickly stirred and made eager; your liveliness and activity bring you to the surface; moreover, your frank manners are attraptive, and win the world's favour. Nothing is so dangerous as pleasing; it satisfies self-love, and self-love poisons the heart. At first a man is amused and flattered; then he grows dissipated, and his good resolutions slacken • then he becomes intoxicated with himself and the world— that is to say, with pleasure and vanity. And so he finds himself afar off from God, without
" Fcnelon uses the word in its original meaning— scattered abroad, dispersed.
THE DANGERS OF. AN EASY DISPOSITION 67 courage to return, without strength to resist himself. Your only plan is to guard against dissipation. I intreat you to give a short quarter of an hour every morning to meditative reading, earnest and simple, . and a few minutes of the same at night; from time to time during the day make an act. of the Presence of God, and resolve to live for Him; humble yourself for your faults, strive heartily to correct them; be patient with yourself, without self-flattery, as you would be with another, and.frequent the Sacraments regularly. I pray for you with all my heart.
Letter 31
tSCo « Gentleman.
I QUITE understand what you feel about the excessive sorrow. . . feels for your faults, but it is not your business to decide whether such sorrow goes too far. When a man who like you has known God so long, and has received grace enough to sanctify a hundred sinners, yet falls into certain sins, you must not be surprised if the Spirit of Grace be keenly and long grieved in those who are bound to you in that same Spirit. You are vexed because God lets others suflfer for you: you are vexed with. . . because she bears the penance which you ought to bear and yet reject; whereas, on the contrary, this ought to soften you, increase your confidence, submission, and docility. Perhaps you need this prolonged trial to make you feel the extent of your faults, and your real danger. It is the counterbalance to your levity; you need the wholesome check of fear. Nevertheless, I beg... to modify her grief because of your great sensitiveness. I would not have her forcibly repress it in order to spare you, and flatter your selMove — God forbid! but I would have her led by grace only, not by mere natural feeling. I am delighted to hear that yoii see her progress; and yet meanwhile you fall back! O my dear, fellow, if I could but see you, I would not spare you; I would humble you in spite of yourself! Lowliness is the only resource of the weak: a baby cannot walk, but it submits to be carried, to be put down here or there, to be swaddled; whereas a full-grown man who is weak, but fancies himself strong, falls at every step — he cannot guide himself, and will not let others guide him. . . .
I CAN but obey your Highness by speaking with all freedom, and plainly, as you desire. . . . Nothing could be more terrible than to become a Bisiiop without realising the Episcopal duties. . , . The larger the diocese to be ruled, the greater its needs', •so much more apostolic courage is needed to labour successfully therein. If you are to be a Bishop, ' Monseigheur,.for God's sake beware of doing it by "halves. You must be a man of God, the dispenser of the mysteries of Jesus Christ. The words of Salvation must ever be > found on your lips. It
TO THE ELECTOR OF COLOGNE 69 should suffice to behold you to know how to serve God; you should be as a living law, bringing religion home to all hearts. You must die to self| so as to lead others to the like mortification, which is the 6rst foundation of Christianity. You must be gentle and lowly of heart; firm without pride, and indulgent without laxity; poor and vile in your own eyes, amid the greatness ihseparable from your birth, a greatness to be dealt >vith on this ground only. You must be patient, and diligent; full of mistrust for your own opinions, ready to prefer those of others when they are better; on your guard against the flattery which besets the great, appreciating good advice, careful to seek out and promote real merit. In short, you must carry your cross aiiiid all contradictions, and approach the ministry as you would the martyr's stake: " But none of these things move me, neither count I niy life dear unto myself." ' . • .
Thus to enter the Episcopate, you must be stimulated by a fervent love of Jesus Christ. He must ask you as of Peter, " Lovest thou Me? " And you must be ready to reply, not with your lips only, but with your heart, " Lord, Thou knowest that I love Thee." And then you will deserve to hear Him say, **Feed My sheep." Ah, truly, it needs great love never to be discouraged, and to bear all the crosses of such a position! It may be easy enough for shepherds whose intercourse with their flock chiefly lies in taking its produce; but it is very weighty to those who devote themselves to the salvation of souls.
yo Your preparation, Monseigneur, should be in proportion to the greatness of the work you are undertaking. A mountain of difficulty impends oveir you. God forbid that I should discourage you, but he who would be worthy of God's Commission must be ready to say with the prophet, " Ah, Lord God! behold, I cannot speak: for I am a child! " * He must be hopeless in himself, in order to have full hope in the Lord.
You are naturally good, just, sincere, compas-' sionate, generous, open to religion, which has struck deep roots in your heart; but the circumstances of your birth have accustomed you to worldly grandeur, and you are surrounded with hindrances to apostolic simplicity. Most great princes never learn how to bend sufficiently, so as to become the servants in Christ of the people over whom they are placed; nevertheless, those who would be pastors must devote themselves to serve. " We are your servants for Jesus' Sake. " »
It is prayer alone which can mould a true Bishop amid so many difficulties. Accustom yourself, Monseigneur, to seek God within you; it is there you will find His Kingdom: " Behold, the Kingdom of God is within you. " ^ Men delude themselves into seeking it far away; aiming' rather to^ taste the sweetness of holiness than to submit reason to faith, and their own will to that of God. Speak to Him boldly of your weakness and your wants; you can never do this too plainly. Prayer is love; love tells all to God. All we need to say to our Beloved is that we love Him, and fain would love Him more.
TO THE ELECTOR OF COLOGNE J I
" Nought save love," S. Augustine says. Nor must you only speak, you must likewise listen. What will He not say to those who hearken? He will teach them all truth* But we listen too much to our own voice to hear Him; let us rather be silent and hear God: '' I will hearken what the Lord God will say concerning me.'' We understand the silence of the lips, but not that of the heart. Real prayer, though brief, would spread itself by degrees over all the day's doings: it would give a vivid sense of God's Presence, Which would renew the strength perpetually; it would rule the exterior and interior; through it one would act solely through the Spirit of Grace; there would be no following natural impetuosities, nor over-eagerness, nor the impulses of self-love; one's firmness would not be hard or proud, nor one's indulgence weak or lax; one would avoid all excess, all indiscretion, all affec tation, all singularity; one would do much the same things that one does now, only one would do them much better, with the satisfaction of doing them for God instead of to please one's self.
I think, Monseigneur, you might profitably read S. Paul's Epistles to Timothy and Titus, S. Gregory's Pastoral, S. Chrysostom's writings on the Priesthood, some of S. Augustine's sermons and epistles, S* Bernard's D^ Cofisiderationef and some of his letters to Bishops, the Lt/e of S, Charles^ the Life and Works ofS, Francis de Sales, You know, Monseigneur, that, in order to read profitably, you must think more of learning than of gratifying
' Ps. Ixxxv. 8. curiosity. It is better to read but little, so as to have time to ponder, appreciate, and apply what you read. Yoii should try to turn your reading into a sort of meditation. To such purely devotional reading you might add the Council of Trent and the Catechism, which is an abridgment of theology^ Fleury's well-written History of the Church is. bothr useful and agreeable reading.
Finally, the man of God, " ready unto every good work," heeds to feed frequently on the Bread of Heaven Which came down to give life to the world, and therefore you need to prepare, by unreserved self-devotion, to receive so great a Gift An enlightened confessor, who is experienced in the things of God, will regulate fitting seasons, giving heed alike to the needs and attainments of a soul. He should not permit such frequent Communion to beginners as to those farther advanced; but when a soul is obedient to grace, clings to nothing which would keep it back, and strives only to be stedfast, it is well, in permitting Communion, not merely to weigh its actual merits, but the earnest desire it has to overcome faults.
' To live thus, Monseigneur, you must keep certain liours to yourself for retirement, so far as propriety, the great claims of your position, and your need of due relaxation, will allow. . . . Our Lord has said, " Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof; the morrow will take care for the things of itself." • . . It seems to me you should now think of nothing save your due preparation, as though you were to be consecrated next month, nevertheless postponing your consecration as long as may be
TO THE SUPERIOR OF A COMMUNITY *l%
. ^ ■ * necessary for the sanctity of the ministry, for your own salvation, and that of your people. I am, etc
Chapter 4 of 14