Letters 126–129

Letter 126

a>n Deprei(0ion.

As to that sort of depression which seems to wither up your heart, and to make it shrink from everything, there are two rules which I think it is important to observe. First, to use such remedies for this depression as God's Providence supplies you with, For instance, do not overwhelm yourself with troublesome matters of business, which are too heavy a burden for you to bear; take due precautions, not only for your bodily strength, but also for that of your mind, not undertaking what is too great a strain upon your powers, and reserving certain hours for prayer, reading, and helpful conversation, even taking pains to seek such cheerful society as will refresh both mind and body as they have need.

Further, you ought to have some safe and judicious friend to whom you can unburthen yourself of whatever does not concern other people; such outpouring relieves and comforts an oppressed heart. Troubles which are silently nursed are apt to grow ever greater, until the heart bursts from over-fulness; whereas, if they had been given vent, it would have been discovered that they* were not so overwhelming as they seemed. Nothing has a surer tendency to disperse the dark clouds of depression than simplicity and lowliness in laying bare one's troubles, however little to one's own credit it may be so to do, and seeking comfort and light from some worthy servant of God. .

My second rule is to bear patiently the involuntary impressions of sadness which remain in spite of the above helps and precautions. Interior trials push us further oh in the life of faith than anything else, provided we do not let them stop us altogether, and provided that the involuntary shrinking of the soul does not give way to the depression they cause. A step gained at such a time is enormous, and worth more than a thousand under more propitious circumstances. The great means whQreby to make

DEPKESSIOJV 243 this feeble state more useful to your soul than the most buoyant strength, is to go perse veringly on and heed your depression as little as possible. Depend upon it, that comfortable vigour which makes everything easy, and congratulates itself on not knowing what hesitation and depression mean, is very treacherous 1 It feeds self-confidence and exaltation of heart terribly! Sometimes, while greatly edifying tlie outside world, it is fostering an inward self-satisfaction and self-applause which is a most subtle poison. A man appreciates bis own excellence, is gratified by it and satisfied with it, and congratulates himself on his strength. But a soul which feels weak and humble, powerless to help itself, full of fears and shrinking, ":sorrowful even unto death,''^like our Lord Himself iii Gethsemane, crying x)ut, as He cried, '* My God, why hast Thou forsaken me! " is far better purified, more purged of self; and more dead to its own will, than those vigorous natures which composedly rejoice in their own good qualities. Blessed is he who is cast down and crushed by God's Hand; who is deprived by God of all his own strength, so that he niay be stayed on God only; who realises and accepts his own poverty, and who, beyond all external crosses, carries patiently the cross of depression, without v/hich ell others are comparatively easy to bear! '

Letter 127

SDn tit Cl&ouglit of /Deatli/ / I CANNOT too Strongly deprecate the blindness of most men for persisting in rejecting the thought of death, and turning away from an inevitable event which may be made most blessed by dwelling upon it. Death only alarms the carnal mind: " Perfect love casteth out fear." It is not because one imagines one's self righteous that one ceases to be afraid, but because one loves and resigns one's self unreservedly to Him Whom one loves. This makes death easy and precious. To him who is dead to self bodily death is but the consummation x>f the work of grace.

Men shun the thought of death as sad, but death will only be sad to those who have not thought of it. It must come sooner or later, and then he who has refused to see the truth in life will be forced to face it in death. Death brings a very clear insight as to all a man has done and all he ought to have done; we shall then see clearly how we ought to have used past grace, talents, wealth, health, time, and all the joys and sorrows of life. The thought of death is the best check we can put upon all our plans and doings. It is right to wish for it, but we must wait for death with the same absolute submission to God's Will as we accept life. It is right to wish for death, inasmuch as it is the consummation of our repentance, the entrance to blessedness, and our eternal reward. A man has no right to say that he wishes to live to do penance for past sins — death is the fullest of penances; our sins will be expiated in death better than by any other penance. It will be as precious to the good as it will be terrible to the wicked. We ask for death daily in the " Our Father." Every one must ask that the

Kingdom of God may come to him. So saying, we must wish for it; for prayer is the heart's desire, and God's Kingdom can only come to us through our death. S. Paul bids Christians " comfort one another " with the thought of death.'

Letter 128

JFattie JBotton0 oC Spiritual Progrett^.

Almost all who aim at serving God do so more or less for their own sake. They want to win,. not to lose; to be comforted, not to suffer; to possess, not to be despoiled; to increase, not to diminish. Yet all the while our whole interior progress consists in losing, sacrificing, decreasing, humbling, and stripping self even of God's Own Gifts, so as to be more wholly His. We are often like an invalid who feels his own pulse fifty times in the day, and wants the doctor to be perpetually ordering some fresh treatment, or telling him how much better he is. This is very much all the use that some people make of their director. They move round and round in a petty circle of easy virtues, never stepping beyond it heartily and generously; while the director (like the physician) is expected to soothe, comfort, encourage, foster delicacy and fastidiousness, only ordering little sedative treatments, which drop into mere habit and routine. Directly they are deprived of sensible grace, which is as the milk of babes, such people fancy all is lost. But this is a plain proof that they cling overmuch to

24 ^ ■ ■■" - ^. - ^ ^ ■■—■■■ ■ ■»! I ^, means, overlooking the end, and that self is their main object. Privations are the food of strong minds: they invigorate the soul, take it out of itself, and offer it as a living sacrifice to God;. but vt^eak people are in despair at the first touch of privation. They fancy that all their work is being overthrown just when it really is beginning to be solidly fixed and thoroughly purified. They are willing to let God do what He will with them, provided, always it be something great and perfect; but they have no notion of being cast down and crushed, or of being offered as a sacrifice to be consumed by the Divine flames. They seek to live by pure faith, yet want to retain all their own worldly wisdom; to be as children, and yet great in their own eyes. But what a mere spiritual chimera this is! . . .

Letter 129

C|iri0tiaTt Perfection.

Christian perfection is not the harsh, wearisome constraint which you imagine. It requires us to belong to God with our whole heart; ankl when once that is the case, whatever we do for Him becomes easy. They who arc God's are always happy so long as they keep an undivided will, desiring only what He desires, and willing to do whatever He requires. They readily forsake all else, and find a hundred-fold return. Peace of conscience, liberty of mind, the sweetness of giving themselves up wholly to God, the joy of perceiving His Light more and more brightly within the heart.

PERFECTION 247 and freedom from the world's slavery and bondage, — all these make up that hundred-fold blessedness which God's true children possess, amid whatever Crosses, so long as they are faithful.

True, they sacrifice themselves, but it is to what they love best; they suffer, but willingly, and they would rather bear such suffering than the world's unreal delights. Their bodies may be racked with pain, their mind harassed, their spirit weak and perplexed; but their will is firm and fixed within, and able to utter a stedfast Amen to every blow which comes from the Hand of God.

What God requires of us is a will no longer divided between Him and any creature; a will supple in His Hand, neither asking nor refusing anything; accepting all He sends unreservedly, and never seeking what He refuses under any pre* text whatsoever. To one of such a mind everyr thing turns to good, and the most trifling pursuits are turned into good works. Happy he who gives himself to God! he is set free from the bondage of his own passions, from the judgments of worldly men, from the malignity and tyranny of their maxims; from their chilling, heartless mockery; from the sorrows which the world ascribes to fortune, the inconstancy of friends, the snares of enemies; from his own weakness; from the uncertainty of life, the terror of an unholy death, the bitter remorse following on criminal pleasure; and, finally, from God's eternal condemnation. From all these countless evils he is delivered, inasmuch as, committing his will into God's Hands, he only desires whatever God wills, and thus finds comfort in faith, and hopes amid all his fears. Surely it is great folly to be afraid to give yourself to God, and to commit yourself to so enviable a condition! - Happy they who cast themselves blindfold and head foremost into the Arms of the Father of Mercies and God of all comfort,' as S. Paul says! Then the prominent wish is to know what is owing to God, and the greatest fear not to see clearly enough what He requires. A new light in the path of faith is as welcome as treasure-trove to a miser! Tlie true Christian, come what may, accepts whatever befalls him, and wishes for nought withheld; the more he loves God the happier he is, and the highest perfection, so far from oppressing him, lightens his yoke.

What folly it is to be afraid of giving too much to God! It is to be afraid of being too happy, afraid of loving God's Will always, afraid of having overmuch courage to bear up under inevitable crosses, overmuch comfort in God, of sitting too loose to the passions which make a man wretched.

Learn, then, to despise earthly things for God's Sake. I do not say forsake them altogether; those who are already leading a good, well-regulated life need only to alter their heart's motive. They will do much the same things as before, for God does not set aside the social condition of His servants, or the circumstances with which He surrounds it; but the difference is that you will now do, in order to serve and please God, that which before you did to serve and please the world and yourself. There will bo this difference, that instead of being dis-

PERFECTION 249 tracted by pride, by the tyranny of passion and of the world's malicious criticism, you will act freely, courageously, hopefully; confidence in expectation of the eternal blessings which await you will uphold you amid trial; and God's Love, teaching you what you owe to Him, will give you wings to fly in His Ways, and to rise up above all earthly worries. If you find it hard to believe this, experience will show. " O taste and see how gracious the Lord is!"'

Our Lord Jesus Christ says to all Christians without exception, "If any man will come after Me, let him take up his cross and follow Me."* The broad way leads to destruction; be it ours to find the narrow way, upon which few enter. None save the " violent " take the Kingdom of Heaven by storm. We must be born again, deny self, abhor it, be as little children, poor in spirit, weep that we may be comforted, and not be of the world, which is condemned " because of offences." These truths seem hard to many people, because they only see what religion requires, without perceiving what it offers, and ignore that loving spirit which makes all easy. They do not know that it leads to the highest perfection by means of a path so loving and peaceful that all toil is eased.

Those who are unreservedly God's are always happy; they know by experience that our Lord's yoke is light and easy, and that in Him men " find rest for their souls," that He will give rest to the weary and heavy laden. He tells us so Himself."* But woe to the timid, cowardly souls who are

■ Ps. xxxiv. 8. ' Matt. xvi. 24. 3 Ibid. xi. 29, 30. divided between God and the world! They will, and will not; they are torn asunder both by passion and remorse; they fear both the judgment of God and that of men; they are frightened of what is evil, and ashamed of what is good; they bear all the trials of virtue without any of its comfort. If only they had enough courage to despise idle talk, foolish mockery, and the audacious criticism of tnen, what peace might they not know in the Bosom of God!

Nothing can be more perilous to salvation, more unworthy both of God and of ourselves, or more damaging to our comfort of heart, than to rest satisfied as we are. Life is given to us expressly that we may march boldly on towards our heavenly Home; the world fleets by like a treacherous shadow, and eternity reaches forth to us. Why should we hesitate to go forward when the light of the Father of Mercies brightens our path? Let us speed onwards to the Kingdom of God.

All excuses for holding back from God are dealt with by the commandment, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all. thy mind." ' Observe how many expressions the Holy Spirit gathers together to forestall all the reservations which man might make with respect to this jealous, all-pervading love. All is not too much for Him; He admits of no division, and He suffers no other love, save such as God Himself prescribes in and through His Love. How, then, is it possible to flatter ourselves that we love Him if we will not

Study His Law, and diligently seek to fulfil His Will?

It is mere self-deceit for those who shrink from facing what such love requires to fancy that they possess this vigilant, earnest love. There is but one way of loving God, which knows no bargaining with Him, but accepts His every inspiration with a free, generous heart. All such as make some profession, but yet hold on to the world with one hand, run great risk of being among those lukewarm Christians of whom God says that He will " spue them out of His Mouth.' He cannot suffer the cowardly souls which say to themselves, " Thus far will I go, but no further." Dare the creature make laws for its Creator? What would a king say to the subject, or a master to the servant, who was afraid of seeming over-zealous in his service, and was ashamed of being publicly known as faithful? How much rather will the King of Kings judge us who do the like?

Nor must we stop short in ascertaining what the general Will of God is. We must seek to know His Will in detail; what pleases Him best; what is the most perfect way. We only act as reasonable beings in so far as we consult God's Will and shape ours to it. There is no other true light to follow; all else is a mere phantasm, a will-o'-therwisp; Blind indeed are they who think they see, unless they are filled with the only true light, the Light of Christ Jesus! They wander in utter darkness; they are as men who dream, but fancy themselves awake, and ta^ke their visions for reality. It is the

• Rev. ill. 16. common delusion of the great and wise men of this world, of all who are deluded by the unreal bliss thereof. None save the children of God walk in the light What awaits worldly men, full of their own vanity and ambition? Often an earthly downfall, always Death, Judgment, and Eternity: these three things are for ever closing in upon the votaries of this world, but they do not see it. Their policy foresees everything save the inevitable destruction of all they prize most I Blind men, when will ye open your eyes to the Light of Christ, which would reveal to you all the hollowness of what you call great!

Such men know that they are not happy, and they hope to become so by means of the very things which make them miserable; they are troubled by reason of that which they have not, and that which they have cannot satisfy them. Their troubles are very real; their joys are fugitive, hollow, embittered, and cost more than they are worth. All life is with them a prolonged experience of error; eternal judgment hangs over their head; their unreal happiness will speedily turn to never-ending tears and groans. Their life is as a fleeting shadow, or, at best, as a flower springing up in the morning, withered, dried up, and trampled under foot ere night. We have seen such foolish worldlings prostrate and trembling at the prospect of death, confessing their delusion, and deploring it. Sometimes such men rush from one extreme to the other, and after being devoid of all respect for religion, they become superstitious and cowardly. Is it not horrible that men should be willing to risk eternity

PERFECTION 253 rather than restrain their evil passions? Yet nothing is commoner. Point out as much as you will the vanity and emptiness of the creature, the uncertainty of life, the changeableness of fortune, the faithlessness of friends, the worthlessness of high position and its inevitable drawbacks, the uncertainty of all hopes, the unreality of what we possess and the reality of what we suffer, — true as all this may be, it does not reach them more than superficially. The man is not touched at heart; he goes on sighing to be yet more and more the slave of this world's vanities.

What can be done to rouse him from this pitiable state t He must pray for light; he must be brought to realise the depth of God's Mercy and the depth of his own fallen nature. Then he will hate himself, fly from and renounce self, throw himself upon God, and be lost in Him. Blessed loss, wherein he will find the true self! No more self-seeking, yet all will turn to his good; for " all things work together for good to them that love God," and are filled with His Spirit. Miserable indeed are they who are without that Spirit, yet none are really without it save they who ask it not, or ask amiss. It is not with the lips, or external acts only, that we can win to us that Spirit of Life without Whom the best deeds are lifeless; but by the heart's desire, by a thorough prostration of self before God. He is so good. He waits but our hearty desire to fill us to overflowing with that gift which is Himself. He has said that the cry is not formed by the lips — scarce conceived by the heart — before He grants the prayer. But it is the heart's prayer which He

2 grants. The way to learn this prayer is to fix upon some mystery or truth, and meditate silently iipon it; and then having grasped it, apply it to yourself, make resolutions before God concerning your duties and your faults, ask Him to give you strength to accomplish that which He moves you to promise. When you perceive that your mind is wandering, recall it quietly, but never give way to discouragement because of the persistency of these troublesome distractions. So long as they are involuntary they cannot hurt you; on the contrary, they may profit you more than a warm and lively season of prayer, because they will mortify and humble you, and teach you to seek God for Himself only, not for the pleasure which comes with the search.

But beyond such prayerj for which you must set aside special seasons (for no occupations, however necessary, ought ever to- engross you to the exclusion of your daily bread), you should accustom yourself to frequent short, simple upliftings of heart to God. A few words of a Psalm or Gospel, or any other part of Holy Scripture which comes home to you, will do; and such ejaculatory prayer can go on, however you may be surrounded by people, without their knowing it Such devotions are often more helpful than a more systematic continuous prayer. It would be well for you to resolve that morning and afternoon you will thus lift up your heart; that you will think upon God whenever yoii see certain things or people; to forecast and prepare what ypii will do under certain circumstances. In this way yoii will learn to maintain a constant familiar sense of the Presence of God, and nothing

PERFECTION 255 will SO tend to loosen you from the world as that Presence. It is when beholding God that we realise the emptiness of the world, which will ere long pass away like a cloud; all grandeur and pomp will vanish as a dream, the proud will be brought low, the powerful laid helpless, the mighty bowed beneath the Eternal Majesty of God. In His judgment-day He will extinguish all that glitters now, as the rising sun puts out the starlight. Then we shall see nought save God; seek as we may, we shall find nought save Him. Where, we shall ask in that day, are the pleasant things which lured us? what were they? what remains of them? Not even a token by which to trace them! They have melted away like the mist before the sun; we can scarce say that they ever were, they did but appear for an instant, and are gone!

But even were the world not thus passing away, it must leave you, do what you will — a little sooner or later, what matters it? A few more rapidly rolling years, flowing past like a river, vanishing like a drieam, youth will be gone, the world will look elsewhere, and reject those who have not already learnt to reject it. That time is coming — it is here; let us forestall it! Let us love that eternal beauty which never grows old, and which endows its lovers with perpetual youth; let us reject a world already crumbling into ruin. How many we have seen fall from our own platform into the arms of death and eternity, and a new world springs up around! We need not grow very old to find that old friends pass away and we form new ties. Family groups disperse; the Court we once haunted is altogether changed; the men we admired are gone, and have made room for others who will also soon pass away. Where are all the great actors who have filled that scene during the last thirty years? Or not to go so far back, how many are dead within the last seven or eight years? We shall soon follow them. Is it worth while, then, to cleave so stedfastly to such a world, into which we have scarce entered before we must quit it? a world which is but a phantom, *'a shadow which passeth." O frail and foolish world, shame on thee to think to dazzle us with thy tinsel tawdriness! thy smile cannot hide the pains thou bringest; a moment, and thou art gone, and yet thou darest affect to promise us bliss I There is no bliss save to him who sees thy emptiness by the light of Christ Jesus!

The fearful thing is that such thousands blind themselves, shunning the light which condemns their deeds of darkness. They have chosen the life of the beasts which perish, and they refuse to realise any other life, degrading themselves more and more to stifle shame and remorse. They ridicule men who think seriously, and call those foolish who strive to live to God. But you must shun the society of such men persistently. It is most important to break off all intercourse with those you know to be dangerous; and the more you are exposed to it, the more you must watch over yourself, redouble your exertions, be diligent in prayer and reading, in frequenting the Sacraments, without which you grow weak, and liable to temptation.

When we ask God for our daily bread in the

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Lord's Prayer, we assuredly mean the Eucharist. Why, then, do we not eat that daily bread each day, or at all events very frequently? To be worthier to do so, learn gradually to overcome self, to be stedfast in virtue, and to refer continual!]^ to God • in hearty, though brief prayer. So the taste for past foul pleasure will insensibly vanish, and a new attraction of grace will fill your heart. You will hunger after Jesus Christ, Who will feed you to life eternal. The more you eat that Holy Bread, the stronger your faith will be; you will fear nothing so much as to shut yourself out from the Holy Table by any sin; your devotions, far froni being a constraint or burden, will be your comfort and refreshment. Strivej, then, to be prepared frequently to approach that Blessed Sacrament, without which your spiritual life will languish and wax cold, and you will row against the tide without advancing; whereas, by feeding on the Body of Christ and His Word, you will be as a ship in full sail before a favouring wind. Blessed are they who are in such a state, or at all events long after it!

People find it very hard to believe that God heaps crosses on those He loves out of loving-kindness. Why should He take pleasure in causing us to suffer? they ask. Could He not make us good without making us miserable } Yes, doubtless God eould do 50, for to Him all things are possible. Jen. s/. £.—/.] R \ ■ ■ ■ ■■.. > ■ 1^

His All-powerful Hands hold the hearts of men, and turn them as He pleases, as he who commands the source of a reservoir turns the stream whither he will. But though God could save us without crosses, He has not willed so to do, just as He has willed that men should grow up through the weakness and troubles of childhood, instead of being born fully developed men. He is the Master; we can only be silent, and adore His Infinite Wisdom ^ihout understanding it. The one thing we do see pUinly is that we cannot become really good save in so far as we become humble, unselfish, in all things turning from self to God.

But the operation of grace in turning us thus from self cannot — save through a miracle of that same graces-be other than painful, and God does not perform continual miracles in the order of grace any more than in the order of nature. It would be as great a miracle in the first- sense were we to see one full of himself die suddenly to selfconsciousness and self'interest, as to see a child go to bed a mere child, and rise up the next morning a man of thirty! God hides His work beneath a series of imperceptible events, both in the order of grace and of nature, and thus He subjects us to the mysteries of the faith. Not only does He accomplish His work gradually, but He does it by the most simple and likely means, so that its success appears natural to men; otherwise all God does would be as a perpetual miracle, which would overthrow the life of faith by which He would have us exist.

Such a life of faith is necessary, not only to mould

RIGHT USE OF TRIALS 259 the good, by causing them to sacrifice their own reason amid a world of darkness, but also to blind those whose presumption misleads them. Such men behold God's works without comprehending them, and take them to be simply natural. They are without true intelligence, inasmuch as that is only given to those who mistrust their own judgment, and the proud wisdom of man is unworthy to enter into the counsels of God.

So it is in order that thq operation of grace may abide a mystery of faith that God permits it to be slow and painful. He makes use of the inconstancy, the ingratitude of men, of the disappointments and failures which attend human prosperity, to detach us from the creature and its good thiiigs. He opens our eyes by letting us realise our own weakness and evil in endless falls. It all seems to go on in the natural course of events, and this series of apparently natural causes consumes us like a slow fire. We would fain be consumed at once by the flames of pure love, but so speedy a process would cost us nothing, and it is in very selfishness that we seek to attain perfection so cheaply and so fast

Why do we rebel against our prolonged trials? Because of self-love; and it is that very self-love that God purposes to destroy^ for so Jong as we c;;leave to self His work is not achieved. What right have we to complain? We suffer from an excessive attachment to the creature — above all, to self. God Orders a- series of events which detach us gradually from the first, and finally from the last also. The operation is painful, but our corruption makes it needful, and therefore it is we suffer sa keenly! If the flesh were sound, the surgeon would not need to probe it; he uses his knife in proportion to the depth of the wound and the extent of proud flesh. If we feel his operation too keenly, it is because, the disease is active. Is it cruelty which makes the surgeon probe us to the quick } No, far otherwise, it is skill and kindness; he would do the same by his only child.

Even so God treats us. He never puts us to any pain save unwillingly; His fatherly Heart does not desire to grieve us, but He cuts to the quick that He may heal the ulcers of our spiritual being. He ihust needs tear from us that which we love amiss, unreasonably and excessively, or to the hindrance of His Love. And so doing, He causes us to cry out like a child from whom one takes the knife with which it would maim or kill itself. We cry loudly in our despair, and murmur against God, as the petulant babe against its mother; but He lets us cry, and saves us nevertheless. He. only afflicts us for our correction; even when He seems to overwhelm us, it is for our own good, and to spare us the greater evil we should do to ourselves. The things for which we weep would have caused us eternal woe; that which we count as lost was then indeed most lost when we fancied it our own. God has stored it up safely, to be returned to us in eternity, which is fast drawing near. He does but deprive us of the things we prize in order to teach us to love them purely, truly, and highly; in order that we may enjoy them for ever in His Presence; in order to do a hundred-fold better for us than we can even desire for ourselves.

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Nothing can happen in the world save what God wills. He does all, arranges all, makes all to be as it is. He counts the hairs of our head, the leaves of every tree, the sand on the seashore, the drops of water which form the mighty ocean. When He made the world, His Wisdom weighed and measured every atom. Every moment He renews and sugi^ tains the breath of life. He knows the number j6f our days; He holds the cords of life or death. What seems to us weightiest is as nothing in the eyes of God; a little longer or shorter life becomes an imperceptible difference before Him. What matters it whether this frail vessel, this poor clay, be thrown aside a little sooner or later.? How short-sighted and erring we are! We are aghast at the death of one in the flower of his age, ^ What a sad loss! " men cry out. But to whom is the loss? What does he who dies lose? Some few years of vanity, delusion, and peril! God takes him away from the evil, and saves him from his own weakness and the world's wickedness. What do they Ipse who love him.? The danger of earthly happiness, a treacherous delight, a snare which caused them to forget God and their own welfare; but, in truth, they gain the blessing of detachment through the cross. That same blow by which he who dies is saved fits those who are left to. work out their salvation in hope. Surely, then, it is true that God is very good, very loving, very pitiful to our real needs, even when He seems to overwhelm us, and we are most tempted to call Him hard 1

What difference is there now between two people who died during the last century, one some twenty a years, say, before the other? Both are dead now; their departure seems to us now but as the same thing; and soon all that is separated will be reunited, and there will be no trace left of that brief separation. Men seem to think this life immortal, or at least likely to endure for ages! Yet every day the living are treading rapidly after the dead; and the man who is just about to start upon a journey need not feel so very far off him who went yesterday. Life rushes on like a torrent: already the past is but a dream; the present, even while we think we grasp it, slips from us and becomes the past, and it will be no otherwise with the future. Days, months, years hurry on like the surging waves of a flood; a few moments more, and all will be ended. Verily, what now seems long, by reason of weariness and sadness, will seeni short enough when it is over.

It is owing to the sensitiveness of self-love that we are so alive to our own condition. The sick man who cannot sleep thinks the night endless, yet it is no longer than any other night. In our cowardice we exaggerate all we suffer; our pain may be severe, but we make it worse by shrinking under it. The real way to get relief is to give one's self up heartily to God; to accept suffering, because God sends it to purify us and make us worthier Him. The world smiled upon you, and was as a poison to your soul. Would you wish to go on in ease, pleasure, display, in the priile of life and souldestroying luxury, clinging to the world, which is Christ's enemy, rejecting the cross, which alone can anctify you up to the hour of death? The world

RIGHT USE OF TRIALS 26% will turn away, forget, despise, ignore you. Well> need you wonder that the world is worldly, unjust, deceitful, treacherous? Yet you are not ashamed to love this world, from which God snatches you to deliver you from its bondage and make you free, • and you complain of your very deliverance. It is as your own enemy that you are so alive to the world's indifference, that you cannot endure what is for your real good, and so keenly regret what is fatal to you. This is the source of all your grief and pain.

O my God, Who beholdest the depths of our misery. Thou alone canst heal us! Give us faith, love, hope, Christian courage. Help us to turn our eyes continually to Thee, O All-powerful Father, and to Thy Son, our Example in suffering. Thou didst nail Him, the Man of Sorrows, to the Cross, that we might learn the blessing of suffering. Let our ease-loving nature be silent when we gaze on Jesus steeped in shame and agony. Lift up our hearts, strengthen them against self; make us to fear nought save displeasing Thee, save eternal loss, instead of fearing what will be our infinite gain. Lord, Thou knowest the weakness and misery of Thy creature. I have nothing — but what matter, so long as I have Thee, so long as I can seek Thee with certainty of finding all that is not to be found in myself!

Peace of Conscience.

There is never any peace for those who resist God. If there is any happiness in this world, it belongs to those whose conscience is pure; the whole earth is but pain and anguish to the evil conscience^ How different God's peace is froni that which the world assumes, but cannot really give! God's Peace stills all passion, ensures purity of conscience and unfailing justice; it unites a man to God, and strengthens him against temptation. This purity of conscience is preserved by frequenting the Sacraments. All temptation, when resisted^ bears its fruit for good; peace of heart lies in perfect resignation to God's Will.

"Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: but one thing is needful." * True simplicity, that calmness which results from complete submission to whatever God wills, patience and forjjearance towards the faults of others, frankness and childlike docility in confessing your faults, accepting reproof, and receiving counsel — these are the solid graces which will tend to your sanctification. ...

The anxiety which so many things cause you comes from your not sufficiently accepting whatever -happens as coming from God. Leave all in His Hands, and offer all up to Him beforehand. From the moment you give up all self-will, and seek absolutely nothing but what He wills, you will he free from all your restless anxiety and forecasting^^ there will be nothing to conceal, nothing to bring about. Short of that you will be uneasy, changeable, easily put out, dissatisfied with yourself and with others, full of reserve and mistrust. Your

PEACE OF CONSCIENCE 265 talents, unless chastened and humbled, will but torment you; your piety, though sincere, will do more in the way of inward reproach than of support and consolation. But once give yourself up to God, and you will be at rest, and filled with the joys of His Holy Spirit.

Woe to you if you lean upon man instead of God! In the matter of selecting a spiritual guide you must set aside all personal interests; the smallest degree of human respect will cut off grace, and increase your perplexity. You will suffer greatly, and displease God.

We are constrained to love God because He first loved us, and that with a tender love, as a Father Who pitieth His children, knowing their frailty, and the clay out of which He has formed them. He sought us in our own paths, which are sin; He followed us as a shepherd wearies himself in seeking his lost sheep. He is not content with finding us; having found us. He carries us and our weariness, — " He was obedient unto the death upon the Cross;" "He loved us unto death," — and His Obedience can only be measured by His Love. When a soul is filled with, that Love, it will enjoy peace of conscience, and be content and happy. It will need neither grandeur, fame, pleasure, nor anything which passes away; it will crave nothing but the Will of God, but will watch continually in a blessed expectation of the Bridegroom's coming.

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