Letters 126–129
Letter 126. To One Living Ix the World. Ox the — Lawfulness of Amusements
I DO not think you need to trouble about those entertainments which you are inevitably called upon to share. Some people would fain always be grumbling and bemoaning themselves about the amusements in which they are obliged to take part; but for myself, I must say I do not at all sympathise with such unbending strictness. I like a much simpler line of conduct, and I believe such to be more acceptable to God. Where amusements are innocent in themselves and come in the ordinary way of things, according to the state of life to which God has called a person, I think it is enough if she shares in them moderately, and as in God's Sight. A stiff, constrained tone, — harsh, unbending, disobliging manners, — only tend to give worldly people a mistaken impression of religion, whereas they are quite sufficiently inclined already to misjudge it, and to think that God can only be served in a gloomy, dull life.
So I should say that God having placed you in a position where you are expected to join in whatever goes on, all you have to do is to be quiet, and not torment yourself with perpetual scruples as to the hidden motives which may creep unconsciously into one's heart. If one were to persist in perpetually sounding the depths of that heart, there would be no end to it, and while intending to seek God one would become absorbed in self by such continual perquisition. Go on rather with a simple heart in all peace and joy; such are the fruits of the Holy Spirit. He who does all, even the commonest things, as in God's Presence, is still working for God when what he does seems neither serious nor substantial work: always taking for granted, that is, that such trifling duties come to him in the order of God's Providence, and that he conforms to such an order as regards his worldly position in their fulfilment.
Most people, when setting about their reformation or conversion, are much more anxious to spend their lives in doing some difficult or unusual thing than to purify their intentions and to renounce self-will in the ordinary duties of their position; but this is a great mistake. Far better make less outward alteration as to actions, and more inward change in the heart which prompts them. Those who are leading a decent, well-ordered life need much more interior than exterior change when they seek to become more earnest Christians. God does not care for lip service, or bodily gestures, or outward ceremonies:
laroful Amusement* 237 what He requires is a will no longer divided betwixt Him and any creature, — a will plastic in His Hands, asking nothing arid refusing nothing, never under any possible excuse willing ought that He does not will.
Try always to have this simple will — this will so imbued with God's Will, wherever His Providence may le'ad you. Seek Him during the hours which seem so empty, and they will become full to you through His Grace. Even the most unprofitable amusements will become a kind of good works, if you enter into them merely because of social obligations, and in conformity with the ordering of God's Providence. There is no freer heart than that which God leads by this simple path. You will find yourself going on like a little child whose mother leads it by the hand, while it never questions whither they are going j you will be content to be bound or free, to talk or be silent; you will learn, when higher things are unseasonable, to talk cheerfully about mere trifles — to teach yourself what S. Francis de Sales calls "joyeusetes" and therein to please yourself while pleasing others.
Perhaps you will reply that you would rather be occupied in more solid, serious matters. Possibly; but God would not rather have it so for you, inasmuch as He appoints what you would not choose for yourself. Surely you know that His choice is best. Very likely you might find more satisfaction in those solid pursuits for which He has given you a taste; but it is precisely the satisfaction of that taste, however good and desirable in itself, which He sees fit to deny you. Even our virtues need the purification of those contradictions which God suffers to thwart us, the more to set us free from self-will. Nothing is so simple, gentle, loveable, discreet, and stedfast in every duty as real religion founded on dutiful acceptance of the Will of God, apart from personal tastes and likings, impetuosity and impulse. One so actuated leads very much the same life as all around, without affectation or strictness, sociable and easy in manner, but always regulated by duty, unremitting in giving up whatever is at discord with God's appointed way, looking stedfastly to God, and offering all the impulsive tendencies of natural disposition to Him. This is the real worship in spirit and in truth which Jesus Christ and the Father require. All else is mere formal religion, the shadow rather than the substance of Christianity.
Doubtless you will ask how you are to attain and to maintain such purity of intention amid so secular a life, one so devoted to mere amusement as yours seems to be. It is hard enough, you will say, to shield one's heart from the torrent of passion and bad worldly example with continual, absorbing self-watchfulness: how then can I hope to withstand, if I expose myself so readily to amusements
Xatoful Amusements 239 which must defile, or at all events dangerously distract, a Christian's soul?
I acknowledge the danger; indeed, I hold it to be greater than words can express. I entirely agree as to the need for precaution amid so many snares; and these precautions I would sum up as follows: —
First, I would have you lay, as the foundation of all else, regular reading and prayer. I am not speaking of mere reading to satisfy intellectual cravings or theological controversy. Nothing could be more useless, unfitting, or dangerous for you. I mean plain reading, apart from all argument, confined to practical matters, and adapted to nourish the soul. Avoid all that excites your mind and lessens that blessed simplicity which renders it docile and submissive to the Church's teaching. If you read, not that you may be learned, but in order to know better how to mistrust self, your reading will be very profitable. Join prayer to your reading, and meditate on the great truths of religion. This you may do by fixing your attention on some act or words of Jesus Christ. Then, when penetrated with the truth you have been contemplating, apply it earnestly and closely to the correction of your own special faults; make resolutions before the Presence of God, and ask His Help, that you may fulfil that which He incites you to promise. When you find your attention wandering, recall it quietly, without being distressed;
and never let yourself be disheartened by the importunity of such distractions, which are very persistent. So long as they are involuntary, they cannot hurt you; on the contrary, they may help you more than life and sweetness in prayer, if they humble, mortify, and teach you to seek God for Himself alone, not for the pleasure found in the search. So long as you are stedfast in securing time, morning and evening, for these exercises, you will find that they will more than counterbalance the dangers which surround you. I say morning and evening, because just as the body requires regular support, so does the soul, to save it from becoming exhausted through constant contact with the world. So be firm both with yourself and others in always securing this time: never let yourself be led away by any engagements, however worthy they seem, to neglect taking this most needful food.
The second precaution I would recommend is to take, as often as you may be able and feel useful, certain days for complete retirement and recollection. This is a great means for healing all wounds at the Feet of Christ, and for counteracting the evil influences of the world. It will even promote your physical health, for if you use such brief retreats wisely, they will refresh your body as much as your mind.
Thirdly, I take it for granted that you limit yourself to such amusements as are not inconsistent with your prollarofnl ^.mnsementjs 241 fession of godliness, or with the good example which the world has a right to expect of you. For the world, in all its worldliness, expects those who hold it in contempt to be consistent in so doing; and it cannot help respecting such as are stedfast and sincere in despising it. You can see that true Christians may well be thankful that the world is so severe a censor, inasmuch as that makes it most urgently incumbent on them never to give the least cause for scandal.
And, lastly, I think you should only take part in Court entertainments so far as your position calls you to do, or as due courtesy requires. Thus, when neither summoned nor invited, I would not have you join in them, nor ever seek invitations either directly or indirectly. By this means you will be able to give all the time at your own disposal to your household claims and to religious duties; and the world, or at all events all sensible, unprejudiced people in it, will be edified when they see you at once gratefully accepting retirement when it is open to you and sociably entering into all lawful amusements when called upon to share them.
I am certain that, if you will comply with these simple rules, you will find an abundant blessing in them. God, Whose Hand seems to lead you into such scenes of pleasure, will uphold you in them. He will make Himself known to you, and the sweetness of His Presence will be.-n.\ Q far beyond that of all possible worldly pleasures. You will be moderate, discreet, and recollected, — free from constraint, affectation, or whatever else is unpleasant to others; you will be in the world without being of it, and your cheerful, kindly temper will make you all things to all men.
When you find that weariness depresses or amusement distracts you, you will calmly turn to the ever-ready Bosom of your Father without being discomposed. You will look to Him for gladness and refreshment when depressed, for moderation and recollection when distracted, and you will find that He will never leave you to want. A trustful glance, a silent movement of the heart towards Him, will renew your strength; and though you may often feel as if your soul was downcast and numb, whatever God calls you to do, He will give you power and courage to perform. This is the daily bread which we ask continually, and which will never fail us; for our Heavenly Father, so far from ever overlooking us, is always watching to find an open heart into which He may freely pour the torrents of His Grace.
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Letter 127. To a Lady At Court. the Burden of Prosperity
CHAINS of gold are no less chains than those of iron; and while the wearer is an object of envy she is worthy of compassion! Your captivity is noways preferable to that of one kept unjustly in prison, — the only real comfort is that it is God Who deprives you of liberty, and this is the same comfort by which the innocent prisoner above named would be upheld. So all you have more than such an one is a phantom of glory, which gives you no real advantage, but exposes you to the risk of being dazzled and deceived.
But, after all, the consolation of knowing that you are where you are through God's Providence is quite inexhaustible: while you have that, nothing can matter; and by it the iron chains are transformed, I will not say to gold — for we have just agreed that golden chains are nothing better! — but into liberty and happiness. What is the good of that natural liberty of which we are so jealous? It only sets us free to follow our own unruly inclinations even in things lawful; to indulge pride and presume on independence; to carry out our own will, which is the very worst thing that can happen to us. Well is it for those whom God cuts off from their own will that they may follow His, and woe indeed to such as are bound by their passions; they are just as miserable as the others are blessed. Bearing these bonds, the first cannot please themselves; from morning to night they do what God would have done, not what they like; so much the better: He holds them bound, so to say, hand and foot by His Will, He never leaves them a moment to themselves, He is jealous of that tyrannous "I" which wants everything its own way; He leads them on from one sacrifice to another, from one trouble to another, and trains them to fulfil His noblest plans amid commonplace annoyances, frivolous society, and trivialities of which they feel ashamed. He urges the faithful soul till it has scarce time to draw breath: no sooner has one interruption ceased than God sends another to carry on His Work. The soul would fain be free to think upon God, but all the while it is far more really united to Him by yielding to the cross He sends than by the most glowing, tender affections. He would fain be more his own in order to belong the more to God! he forgets that one never so little belongs to God as when self asserts its claim. That " I " by means of which we fancy we can unite ourselves to God, puts a wider gulf between Him and us than the most ridiculous frivolity, for there is a venom in self which does not exist in mere childish amusement.
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Of course you should make use of all available moments to loosen your bonds, and specially try to secure certain hours for the refreshment of body and mind by recollection; but as to the rest of the day, if the stream carries you away in spite of yourself, you must yield without regret. You will learn to find God amid the stream of distractions, and that all the more really that it is not a self-chosen path.
The discomfort you feel in this subject state is natural weariness craving for ease rather than any leading of God's Holy Spirit. You fancy you are missing God, but it is self you really miss; for the most trying side of this exciting life of constraint is that you are never free as regards yourself. It is the lingering spirit of self which would like a quieter state of things in which to enjoy its own intellect and gifts, and to air all its good qualities in the society of a chosen few who would soothe its self-consciousness: or, perhaps, it makes you wish to enjoy the consolations of religion in peace, just when God wills to send nothing but disturbance and contradiction, the more to mould you to His Will.
Some He leads by bitter privations: as to you, He seems to lead you by overwhelming you with the enjoyment of empty prosperity; He makes your lot hard and difficult by dint of those very things which blind outsiders fancy to be the most perfect enjoyment of life! And so
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He carries on two good works in you, — He teaches you by experience, and causes you to mortify self by the very things which foster evil and wickedness in many men. You are like that king we read of beneath whose hand whatever he touched turned to gold, and whose riches were his misery; but you can turn your worldly prosperity to a blessing by leaving all to God, not even seeking to find Himself save wherein He chooses to reveal Himself to you. As I was thinking of your troubles and the bondage of which you complain, our Lord's words to S. Peter came to my mind: " When thou wast young, thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest: but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thine hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not."1 Let yourself be carried; do not draw back. Like S. Peter you will be carried whither nature — keen after freedom and life — would fain not go, — you will be carried to, the love of God. to perfect self-renunciation, to a thorough "death unto self" through God, Who works in you according to His Good Pleasure.
You must not wait for freedom and retirement to learn detachment; the prospect of such a time is very visionary,— it may never come: we must all be ready, should it so please God, to die in harness. If He forestalls our 1 John xxi. 1 8.
»To a tabg at Court -247 plans for retirement, we are not our own, and He will only require of us that which it is in our power to give. The Israelites by the waters of Babylon longed sore after Jerusalem, yet how many were there not among them who never saw their beloved country again, but ended their lives in Babylon! How great would their delusion have been had they postponed a hearty, true sen-ice of God until they could once more see their native land! Ah, well! it may be that our lot will be like those Israelites!
Letter 128. To a Lady At Court. God's Various Crosses
GOD is very ingenious in making crosses for us. Some He makes of lead and iron, which are overwhelming in themselves; and some He makes of straw, which seem so light and yet are no less heavy to bear: others He makes of gold and jewels, the glitter of which dazzles those around and excites the world's envy, but which all the while are as crucifying as the most despised of crosses. He makes us crosses of whatever we love best, and turns all to bitterness. High position involves constraint and harass; it gives things we do not care for, and takes away the things we crave.
The poor man who has not bread to eat finds a leaden cross in his poverty, and God mingles troubles very much akin to his with the cup of the prosperous. The rich man hungers for freedom and ease as the poor man hungers for bread; and whereas the latter can freely knock at every door and call upon every passer-by for pity, the man of high estate is ashamed * to seek compassion or relief. God very often adds bodily weakness to this moral servitude among the great; and nothing can be more profitable than two such crosses combined: they crucify a man from head to foot, and teach him his own lack of power and the uselessness of all he possesses. The world does not see your cross, — it only perceives some bondage softened by the possession of authority, and some slight indisposition which it probably attributes to fancy; while all the time you see nothing but bitterness, hardness, ennni, slavery, depression, pain, impatience! All that dazzles the distant spectator vanishes before the eyes of its possessor, whom God nails to the Cross, while all the world envies her!
So it is that Providence tries us in all manner of ways according to our position. Truly it is very possible to drink the cup of bitterness amid grandeur and without enduring calamity, — nay, to drink it to the very bitterest dregs out of the golden vessels which adorn the tables of kings! It is God's Good Pleasure thus to confound 1 "pauvre honteux."
£o a ILabt) at Court 249 human greatness, which is really no more than disguised powerlessness. Happy they who see these things with that illumination of heart of which S. Paul speaks. You know by experience that Court favour can give no real happiness; it can do nothing to remedy the most ordinary natural sufferings, while it adds many more, and those sharp pangs enough, to what nature lays on us. The trials of high position are more acute than rheumatism or headache! But religion turns them all to good account; it teaches us to look upon all such things as a mere bondage, and in the patient acceptance thereof it shows us a real freedom, which is all the more real because it is hidden to the outer gaze.
No; the only good point of worldly prosperity is one to which the world is blind, — its cross! An elevated position does not save us from any of the ordinary afflictions common to men; indeed, it has its own special trials, and furthermore, it involves a bondage which prevents people from seeking the relief open to those in a less exalted place. They who are not in high place can at least, when ill, see whom they will, and be sheltered from outward disturbance; but the courtier must carry his whole cross; he must live for others when he would fain study his own comfort; he must put aside wants, feelings, wishes, — must admit nothing to be an inconvenience, and must submit to all the restraints of his too good fortune. It is thus that God turns the good things which the world covets into a trouble and toil — that He suffers those whom He has raised to earthly grandeur to be an example to others. It is His Will to perfect His Cross by concealing it beneath the most splendid worldly prosperity, in order to show its little value. Let me repeat it, happy they who in such circumstances learn to see God's Hand bruising them in mercy. Surely it is a blessed thing to find one's purgatory in that which to the worldly seems paradise, and in seeking which they too often forfeit the hope of a true Paradise after this brief life ends.
For those thus circumstanced there is not much to do. God does not need much speaking, or even much systematic thought; He sees the heart, and that is enough; He sees its suffering and its submission. We do not trouble ourselves to say perpetually to some beloved friend, " I love you with all my heart:" so it may easily chance that for a long time together we do not reflect upon our love for Him, and yet that meanwhile we love Him every whit as much as though we were making the fondest protestations. True love abides deep down in the heart, quietly, simply, silently. We do but stun ourselves with a multiplicity of fancies and talk; all such excitable love is but a work of the imagination.
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In suffering, the only thing to be done is to suffer silently in God's Presence: " I became dumb, and opened not my mouth, for it was Thy doing." x Depression, illness, oppression of the brain, faintness, exhaustion, interruptions, restraints, all are sent by God. He gives you high position, with all its torments and wearisome surroundings; He sends the discouragement, the deadness, the impatience which accompany it, in order to humble you through temptation, and to show you to yourself in your true colours. All things are His doing; our part is to see and worship Him in them all. But do not harass yourself with trying to excite an artificial sense of God's Presence or of any such truths within yourself; far better is it to abide His time quietly with a submissive heart, or at most from time to time to make a quiet, calm act when your heart moves you thereto. By degrees you will learn that all the trouble of your position, your sufferings from bad health, and even your inward failings, are real antidotes to the poison of what in itself is a very perilous condition, so long as they are borne patiently and meekly. The one real treasure of great seeming prosperity is its hidden Cross. O Cross! Holy Cross! may I cleave to thee, may I worship my Lord as He hangs upon thee, and may I die with Him to sin and the world for ever!
Letter 129. On Excessive Sensitiveness to Trials
YOUR great sensitiveness does not depend upon yourself; God lets it form part of some people's natural temperament in order to train and discipline them, and then He sees fit not to remove it, but rather to use it for their sanctification. Their part is to enter into His views for them.
Temptations are inevitable and necessary to all; the question is how to avoid yielding to them. Inward temptations are like outward temptations in this, that in all victory will follow after a stedfast combat. Inward temptations are the most profitable, because they humble us most effectually, and teach us our own secret weakness. Outward temptations rather set forth the wickedness of the world around, while those assailing us within teach us that we are really as faulty as the world without. So bear your interior troubles and temptations in a spirit of humble trust and peace, just as you would try to bear the storms which assail you by means of your fellowcreatures. All come alike from God's Hands; He often uses us ourselves as well as others as instruments of our own discipline. Our pride grows restless and disheartened when it sees how full of inward rebellion our hearts are, because it would be so much pleasanter and
<§o&'$ j&eoeritj! all £ot»e 253 more acceptable to find all our passions perfectly submissive, and to be able to look complacently at our own goodness. You must try to have a stedfast will, in spite of revulsions and natural excitement, and be patient when it pleases God to show you by such storms to what perils of shipwreck you are exposed, unless His allpowerful Hand preserves you. And should you ever unhappily fall into some voluntary imperfections, humble yourself, prostrate yourself, correct yourself unsparingly, do not lose an instant in retracing your steps towards God, but do it all unaffectedly and quietly. Rise up and begin again vigorously, without yielding to mortification and discouragement because of your fall.
GOD'S SEVERITY ALL LOVE.
STRICT as God seems to you in His dealings with souls, He never inflicts any suffering solely to give pain; He always has their purification in view. The severity of the operation is caused by the depth of the malady to be cured; God would not cut were there no sore, — He only probes the ulcerated proud flesh. So, after all, it is our own noxious self-will which is the cause of what we suffer, and God's Hand deals as gently with us as may be. But how deep, how malignant our souls must be, since all the time He is sparing us so tenderly He yet puts us to such grievous pain!
Again, just as God only wounds for our healing, so He never deprives us of any of His gifts, save to restore them a hundredfold. In His Love He takes away even His purest gifts if we are using them amiss; and the purer those gifts the more jealous He is that we should not reckon upon them as our own, or take credit to ourselves for them. The most eminent graces turn to deadly poison if we rest upon them in self-complacent security. This was the sin of the fallen angels; so soon as they looked upon their exalted state as their own assured possession they became the enemies of God, and were driven forth from His Kingdom.
We may learn from this how little men understand about the real nature of sin. This is the greatest of all sins, yet there are but few souls so pure as to enjoy God's gifts without any intermixture of selfish complacency. In thinking of God's graces, self is almost always uppermost: we are troubled when we realise our own weakness; we take delight in conscious strength; we seldom weigh our own perfection solely with a view to God's Glory, as we might do that of another person; we are saddened and depressed when sensible sweetness and conscious grace forsake us; in short, we are almost always thinking, not of God, but of self. And so all our
's ^eueritg all Xcrot 255 good things need purifying, lest they foster a merely natural life in us. Our corrupt nature finds a very subtle food in the graces which are most opposed to nature; self-love is fed, not merely by humiliations and austerities, by fervent prayer and mortification, but even by the fullest self-renunciation and utter sacrifice. There is an infinite amount of moral stay in the thought that \ve have no stay at all, and that amid such a horrible trial we are still yielding ourselves up unreservedly. And so, to make the sacrifice real, we need that it too be consumed on the altar, — we must give up even our satisfaction in that sacrifice.
The only way to find God truly is in this readiness to part with all His gifts, this thorough sacrifice of self, and of all inward resource. God's exceeding jealousy exacts it, and you can easily see how we never lose ourselves in Him until all else fails us. A man who is falling into an abyss is not wholly precipitated so long as he can clutch hold of the sides. And self-love, even when God overthrows it, clutches in its despair at every gleam of hope, like a drowning man grasping at the reeds around.
You must learn to realise the necessity of this deprivation of all God's gifts, which He gradually works out. There is no one gift, however precious, which, after having been a help, will not become a snare and a hindrance to the soul which rests in it; and so God often takes away that which He had given. Not, however, wholly; He often deprives us of something only in order to restore it more fully, and without the evil spirit of self-satisfaction which had unconsciously got possession of us. This is overthrown by the loss, and then He restores it a hundredfold. And then the soul loses sight of the gift and sees God only.
Chapter 12 of 14