§ 1. The second condition requisite in affective prayer, to wit,
fervour or devotion.
§§ 2, 3, 4. The, seat of this devotion is not necessarily the
sensitive partof the soul.
§§ 5, 6. Of a twofold sensible devotion.
§ 7. It is neither to he neglected nor too much prized.
§§ 8, 9. Certain exterior effects of sensible devotion: from which great
inconveniences may ensue.
§ 10. Sensible devotion no sure sign of true grace. A fearful example
thereof.
§§ 11, 12, 13. What use imperfect souls are to make of it.
§ 14. Fears are to be repressed.
§ 15. Perfect souls in small danger by it.
§ 16. Of the prayer of aridity, quite contrary to sensible,
yet not to true devotion.
§§ 17, 18, 19. The excellent benefits that may come from the prayer of
aridity.
§ 20. The causes of aridities.
§§ 21, 22. Vocal prayer and meditation not so much subject thereto.
§§ 23, 24. More good comes from prayer of aridity courageously pursued
than from prayer of sensible devotion.
§ 25. The superior soul and its good disposition does not depend on the
temper of sensitive nature.
§§ 26, 27. Means to beget courage in the prayer of aridity.
§ 28. How a soul is to behave herself in the most violent distresses in
prayer.
§ 29. The prayer exercised by imperfect souls during aridities is
not properly in spirit.
1. As, 1. Prayer, for the quantity or extension of it, is to
be incessant, at least the virtue of it is to be an ingredient in
all other works, whether they be study; labour, conversation,
&c. (the which may be without any prejudice at all to the
work, yea, to the great improvement and super-naturalising of
it so far that where prayer is wanting the most specious works
are of no value at all), so in the next place; 2. As to the quality
or intention of it, it ought to be (instantissima, saith our
holy Father in Prolog.) with all possible fervour and earnestness;
for prayer being the most immediate and most perfect act of
charity to God, ought, like charity itself, to proceed (ex toto
2. Notwithstanding this is not so to be understood, as if we were obliged either to employ our corporal forces or members, or to force our sensible affections to concur in our prayers to God, or as if God did require that this fervour should always be in sensitive nature, for that is not always in our power; yea, on the contrary, the sensual part moves often against our wills, being insensible, averse, and impatient of accompanying our spiritual actuations, which commonly do mortify and contradict the desires of nature. 2. And, moreover, when sensible fervour and devotion doth insinuate itself in our recollections (especially in imperfect souls) it does rather endanger to depress the operations of the spirit than advance them, and does, perhaps, more nourish self-love than contribute to the increase of divine love.
3. It is sufficient, therefore, if this fervour be in our superior will alone, though sensitive nature seem to partake nothing of it. So that our prayers may then be said to be instant and fervourous when the will, out of a worthy and high esteem of this most necessary and most excellent duty, resolutely and with perseverance pursues them, notwithstanding any contradiction in nature or discouragements from without, for that must needs be a great fervour of spirit that contradicts the contrary malignant fervour of nature, and undervalues all sensible ease and contentment compared with the spiritual good that is caused by prayer.
4. This is that good quality which our Saviour, in the parable of him who at midnight went to his neighbour to borrow three loaves of bread for the entertainment of a friend that was then arrived, calls by a homely name, to wit, improbitatem, or, as it is in the original, impudence; which quality, notwithstanding, he requires in our prayers to God, and promises an infallible success thereto. Now that improbity or impudence implies an importunate earnestness, a resolution to take no denial nor to stand upon nice civilities, but rather than to return empty, to force out a grant even by wearying out the person to whom we address ourselves; so that it includes both a great fervour and an incessant perseverance in such fervour, which is in a high degree in those who spend their whole lives as it were in one continual prayer, yea, in one only petition, which is, to be united in will and affection to God only.
5. These, therefore, being two qualities requisite in prayer, 1. Earnestness or fervour, and 2. Perseverance (both which are likewise included in the term [instantissima] given to prayer by our holy Father), imperfect souls will be apt to suspect ofttimes that their prayers are inefficacious, as being deprived of these conditions. 1. The former, when they do not perceive a tenderness and melting devotion in sensitive nature. 2. And the latter they will fear is wanting whensoever they find themselves (though unwillingly) distracted. Therefore to the end to prevent mistakes, and that a right judgment may be made of these two, to wit, sensible devotion and distractions, I will treat of them both, showing what good or ill effects may proceed from the former, and what remedies may be applied to hinder any inconveniences from the latter.
6. There is a twofold sensible devotion. 1. The first is that
which we now speak of, which is found in good but imperfect
souls, and it begins in sensitive nature, causing great tenderness
there, and from thence it mounts up to the spirit, producing
good and melting affections to God and especially (in
discoursive prayer) to the humanity and sufferings of our Lord.
2. Another sensible devotion there is of perfect souls, the
which begins in the spirit, and abounding there, overflows, and
7. Such souls then are to be informed that though sensible devotion be indeed at the first a good gift of God, intended by Him for their encouragement and advancement in His pure love, as it is therefore not to be neglected, so neither is it over highly to be prized. For as very good effects may flow from it, being well and discreetly used, so, on the contrary, without such discretion it may prove very pernicious, endangering to plunge them more deeply in self-love and corrupt nature (in which it is much immersed), and so it would produce an effect directly contrary to that for which prayer was ordained. A soul, therefore, is to separate that which is good and profitable in such devotion from that which is imperfect and dangerous, renouncing and mortifying this latter, and with discretion giving way and making her profit of the other.
8. The special signs and effects of such sensible devotion
are ofttimes very conspicuous in the alteration caused by it in
corporal nature, drawing tears from the eyes, producing heat
and redness in the face, springing motions in the heart (like to
the leaping of a fish in the waters, saith Harphius), and in
some it causes so perceivable an opening and shutting in the
heart, saith he, that it may be heard. And from such unusual
motions and agitations about the heart, a windy vapour will
now and then mount up to the head, causing a pricking pain
there, which, if the head be not strong, may continue a good
space; yea, if good care he not taken to interrupt such impetu-
9. Now all these inconveniences proceed from self-love and a too gluttonous delectation in sensible sweetnesses, which, if they be accompanied with any extraordinary visits, there will follow (it is to be feared) yet far more dangerous effects in unprepared souls, the which will probably take occasion from thence to nourish pride in themselves and a contempt of others.
10. To abate the too high esteem that unwary souls may have of this sensible fervour and devotion, it may be observed that it is not always a sign of a good disposition or holiness in the soul, for we read of several impious persons that have enjoyed it; so history makes mention of a certain wicked tyrant called William Prince of Juliers, how at his devotions, in the midnight of our Lord's Nativity, he twice or thrice felt so great an internal sweetness in divine visitations, that he professed afterward that he would be content to purchase with the loss of half his dominions such another consolation. Yet after his death it was revealed to a certain holy person that he was in hell, condemned to torments equal to those that that wicked persecuting Emperor Maxentius suffered.
11. The root of such sensible sweetnesses is oftentimes a mere
natural temper of body; yea, by God's permission, the devil also
will be forward enough to raise and increase it in unmortified
self-willed souls, knowing that they will make ill use of it, either
to the augmenting of their pride, or to a presumptuous undertaking
of mortifications above their strength, by which in a short
time their spirits will be so exhausted and their forces enfeebled,
12. The true use and benefit, therefore, that imperfect souls ought to make of sensible devotion (when God sends it) is this, that without resting much on it, or forcing themselves to continue it, they should make it an instrument to fortify and establish the solid true love and esteem of God in the superior soul, and to confirm an unshaken resolution in themselves never to desist from seeking Him by the internal ways of the spirit, even in times of desertion and aridity.
13. And if they will make this use of it, then from what cause soever it proceeds--yea, though the devil himself helping or changing the body should have caused it--no harm can come unto them thereby; for a soul is most secure while she neglects and disesteems the effects of sensible devotion as far as they are pleasing to sensitive nature, and transcending it, shall endeavour to exercise herself towards God quietly yet resolutely in the superior will; and by the like practice may a soul obtain the like security in all extraordinary doubtful cases of visions, ecstasies, &c.
14. More particularly forasmuch as concerns tears (which
are usual effects of sensible devotion), a soul must be wary that
she give not free scope unto them, whatever the object or cause
be, whether it be compassion to our Lord's sufferings or contrition
for her own sins, &c. In all cases it is best to suppress
them rather than to give them a free liberty to flow, for other
15. The case is otherwise in perfect souls, when God by an extraordinary grace bestows on them the gift of tears (as to St. Arsenius, who is said to have flowed almost continually with them), for in this case they do begin from the spirit, whose operations inferior nature doth not at all hinder, but rather promote in them. And such tears flow (tanquann pluvia in vellus) like a shower of rain into a fleece of wool, without the least disturbance and bitterness in inferior nature; which is a grace very rarely, if at all, granted to imperfect souls, and therefore those upon whom it is bestowed may, and no doubt will, without any danger comply with it, since it can flow from no other cause but God only, and the effect of it will not be to depress the spirit, but rather to draw sensitive nature upward into the spirit, causing it likewise to concur in the exercise of divine love; so as that the soul may say with David, Cor meum et caro mea exultaverunt in Deum vivum, sensitive nature not only joining with the spirit in serving and loving of God, but likewise finding its contentment therein, without the least prejudice to the spirit; and the way to attain to this solid and secure sensible fervour is by a discreet undervaluing and repressing of that which is originally and merely sensible.
16. Now it will not be impertinent on this occasion to take
notice of another sort of temper in prayer of quite a contrary
nature, in which the inferior soul seems to have no part at all in
the actuations of the spirit towards God--yea, is not only
inactive but very repugnant unto them, finding a great deal of
uneasiness and pain in them, so that the whole prayer seems to
17. There are scarce any souls that give themselves to internal prayer but some tine or other do find themselves in great. indisposition thereto, having great obscurities in the mind and great insensibility in the affections. So that if imperfect souls be not well instructed and prepared, they will be in danger, in case that such contradictions in inferior nature continue long, to be dejected, yea, and perhaps deterred from pursuing prayer, for they will be apt to think that their recollections are to no purpose at all, since, forasmuch as seems to them, whatsoever they think or actuate towards God is mere loss of time and of no worth at all, and therefore that it would be score profitable for them to employ their time some other way.
18. Yea, some souls there are conducted by Almighty God by no other way, but only by such prayer of aridity, finding no sensible contentment in any recollections, but, on the contrary, continual pain and contradiction, and yet, by a privy grace and courage imprinted deeply in the spirit, cease not for all that, but resolutely break through all difficulties and continue, the best they can, their internal exercises to the great advancement of their spirit.1
19. It will indeed be very hard and morally impossible for any souls but such as have naturally a good propension to introversion to continue constant to their recollections when aridities, obscurities, and desolations continue a long time. For it is this propension alone, assisted by divine grace, that holds them to their recollections, and that enables them to bear themselves up in all their difficulties and temptations.
20. The causes of this aridity and indisposition to prayer,
ordinarily speaking (for sometimes God, for the trial of His
servants, may, and oft doth, send or permit such temptations to
21. Such discouragements do least appear in Vocal prayer, which befits all kinds of spirits and all sorts of tempers, whether they discourse internally or not, and whether they can produce internal acts of the will upon conceived images or not; for all these at all times, and howsoever they are corporally disposed, may make their profit, more or less, of vocal prayers.
22. The prayer of Meditation likewise, in those for whom it is proper, is not usually much assaulted with such aridities, except it be sometimes towards the end of such prayer, when souls would endeavour to draw good affections from a precedent motive considered by the understanding; for then the heart may sometimes prove barren or averse from such affections. But, however, they that practise meditation may find some remedy by surceasing the producing of affections, and may either betake themselves to exercise mere acts of the will, which are not so affective, or retire themselves to their internal discourse.
23. The pain and anguish that good souls suffer from these
aridities is very grievous, being a kind of continual martyrdom;
and therefore the merit of constancy in prayer, notwithstanding
such aiscouragements in nature, is the greater, and souls to
24. And indeed the only general effectual remedy against any inconveniences that may be caused by such aridities is this generosity of resolution not to seek contentment in nature by internal exercises, nor to quit them for any dulness, coldness, or aversion whatsoever. Let but souls do the best they can or know, and they will find that their spiritual progress in the true, solid, and only meritorious love of God will not at all be hindered, but rather advanced by such froward indispositions of corrupt nature.
25. And such courage and effectual resolution may well
enough consist with these discouragements; for the spirit, whose
operations do not much depend on the corporal disposition, may
in the midst of all sensible aridities and obscurities perform its
functions with great efficacy. The intellectual faculty is at all
times capable of illumination, and the will of receiving grace
and strength from God, and the light and grace which we receive
at such times are far more pure and divine than when corporal
affections do abound, for then they are communicated purely to
the spirit; and consequently the operations performed in virtue
of such light and grace are more noble and meritorious, because
it is apparent that nature neither does nor can mingle her own
interests in them, so that they may confidently he adjudged to
be supernatural and divine. The essential profit of a soul consists
in the light and love of the spirit; such light and love
therefore, which are got with so much difficulty and in such a
struggling of nature, is far more pure, generous, and withal more
solidly rooted in the soul, than that which is got by the exercise
of sensible affections; because all the while there is a continual
combat against self-love, and all the most secret, subtle, and
deeply-hidden snares of it; so that all virtues becoming thus
rooted in the depth of the spirit, and having been produced
26. Now at the first, to the end to attain unto this most necessary courageousness of mind, such souls may do well to help themselves during their aridities with the best motives and most efficacious affections that they can furnish themselves withal, either out of their own invention or by collection out of books, as likewise frequently to urge and even force themselves to the love of God by such ejaculatory prayers and desires as these: O my God, when shall I love Thee as Thou deservest? When shal l I love. as I am loved by Thee? O, that I were freed from myself, that 'I may only love Thee! Excita potentiam Tuam et veni; veni, Domine, et noli tardare. Exurgat Deus et dissipentur inimici, ejus, &c.
27. Such affections as these let a devout soul exercise in her recollections likewise the best she can (in case she cannot see how other ways to do better), although without any gust or sensible contentment, and God will not fail to accept and plentifully reward her good will, and thereby promote her in such manner as He best knows. She may be sure that since He has given her the generous courage to serve Him without present wages, He will at least in the next life multiply rewards upon her infinitely above her expectation, and she ought to account it a proof of His especial love and esteem of her that He has selected her to be a martyr of love, and a soldier to whose courage He commits the most difficult and hazardous employments.
28. In case that internal distresses in prayer be so violent,
that the soul, to her seeming, can only keep herself in an outward
posture of prayer; all that she thinks or does appearing to
her so utterly void of all spirit of devotion, love, and reverence
to God that she may rather suspect it to be injurious to Him;
let her be patient and abstain from disquieting her mind with
murmuring complaints, and by all means let her be sure not to
betake herself to consolation in creatures or recreative diversions
in times appointed for recollection, and then all will be very
well. God will require no more of her than she is well able to
29. Now it is not to be supposed that internal prayer exercised by imperfect souls during aridities, through the advantage of a natural propension, is a truly pure and spiritual prayer; because as yet their exercise is indeed in sense, yet it is in the nobler and supreme part of sensuality tending much toward the spirit, whereby they in that case do enjoy an internal light more clear and pure than whilst they exercise with flowing affections, insomuch as their operations are then abstracted from grosser sensuality, and the more strong that their propension to introversion is, the more easily and quickly do they raise themselves to that clear superior region of light; and the reason is because such a propension and aptitude to internal ways draws the persons endowed with it more and more deeply towards the spirit, in the perfect operations whereof consists the consummation of an internal life.
CHAPTER VI.
§§ 1, 2. A second discouragement in prayer opposite to perseverance, to wit, Distraction.
1. THE second discouraging temptation opposite to the second
quality requisite in prayer (to wit, perseverance), by which well-
2. I do not, therefore, here under the term of distractions comprehend all manner of interruptions from a direct actual tendence to God (for such, sometimes, considering the infirmity of our nature, may be necessary to the end that by a discreet relaxation, the head being refreshed, we may be enabled afterwards to produce inore efficacious affections; and, therefore, those authors are too indiscreetly rigorous who oblige souls not yet perfect to a continual recollected attention to the divine presence, not considering the corporal infirmity and incapacity of their disciples' spirits, especially in these days). The distractions, therefore, here intended to be treated of are such as are involuntary, and which happen at times when souls do apply themselves either to vocal or mental prayer.
3. Now it is an effect of original sin (much increased also
by actual) that souls are generally, some more some less, subject
to this deordination, because by sin that due subordination
of the sensitive faculties (the imagination, memory, and appetite)
to the superior soul is impaired, so that the reason has not
that absolute dominion over them that it had in innocence; but
they often wander towards objects not prescribed by reason, yea,
and sometimes seduce and even compel reason itself to comply
with their disorders. Add hereunto, that the body being gross
and lumpish cannot long endure that the soul, its companion,
should remain in its proper exercise by which it becomes as it
were a stranger to the body, contradicting its motions and desires;
and, therefore, till the soul, by practice of spiritual operations,
be enabled at pleasure to command the inferior faculties
or to abstract itself from the images suggested by them; the said
faculties do strive to depress the spirit and to call it down to
attend to the necessities and desires of sensitive nature; yea,
4. As for these distractions which, generally speaking, are hurtful and to be avoided (among which, notwithstanding, I need not reckon in this place such as are simply sinful, being about unlawful objects), the most harmful to our spiritual progress are those which are about objects to which we cleave with affection, because by such distracting thoughts not only the mind is diverted from God, but the heart also inordinately carried to creatures.
5. For, as for thoughts merely about vain objects, to which we have little or no affection, and which proceed wholly from the instability of the imagination, imperfect souls ought not to be discouraged with them, although they should be never so importunate during their recollections, since the most abstracted liver must be content now and then to suffer them.
6. And the most powerful remedy to prevent them is, with as much prudence and dexterity as one can, to cut off the occasions of entertaining such images as do most frequently and pertinaciously recur to the mind in prayer. And more particularly for those images to whose objects the soul cleaves by inordinate affection; the practice of abstraction and voluntary disengagement from unnecessary business is requisite, and a restraining of our affections from wandering abroad and fixing themselves upon any external objects; for certain it is, that if by the exercise of mortification and prayer we could restrain our affections from creatures and fix them on God only, we should scarce ever have cause to complain of distractions, for we see that we can easily and constantly fix our thoughts on such objects as we love; so that perseverance in prayer and mortification being the most assured instruments to increase divine love and diminish inordinate love to ourselves and creatures, consequently they are the most sure remedies against distractions.
7. But if after all due care had they do still persist, the most
effectual expedients to hinder any considerable inconveniences
from such distractions are: 1. Sometimes to use a discreet and
8. And surely a matter of great comfort it is to a soul (and
ought so to be esteemed) that in her will (which is her principal
faculty, and, indeed, all in all) she may be united to God in the
midst of all distractions, temptations, and desolations, &c., and
9. As for more particular advices, expedients, and sleights to be made use of in special cases and circumstances, none can teach but God only, who by means of experience and perseverance in prayer will undoubtedly give unto a soul light and grace sufficient.
10. To conclude, therefore, this point, this difference may
be observed between distractions in perfect souls from the same
in the imperfect, viz. that in perfect souls distractions proceed
only from some unwilling distemper in the cognoscitive faculties,
but in the imperfect they are rather from some degree of
inordinate affection to the objects of the distractions; and,
therefore; a well-advanced soul hath little difficulty in putting them
away as soon as she reflects upon them, for without contending
with them she can presently unite herself with her superior will
to God, even whilst her knowing powers are busy about impertinent
objects; whereas imperfect souls in the inferior degrees
of prayer, having as yet an express and perceptible use of the
11. There remains a third condition or quality which I said was necessary to true internal affective prayer, to wit, the divine inspiration, from which if it do not proceed, it is of little efficacy or merit. Now though in the general division of internal prayer I seemed to appropriate the title of infused prayer to the prayer of perfect contemplation, the meaning thereof was, that such prayer is merely infused, the soul by any deliberate preparation or election not disposing herself thereto; whereas in the inferior degrees there is necessary both a precedent and concomitant industry in the soul to make choice of matter for prayer, and to force herself to produce affections corresponding to the said matter, by reason that as yet God's Holy Spirit is not so abounding and operative in the soul as to impel her to pray, or rather breathing forth prayers in and by her. But in all cases that is most true which St. Bernard saith, Tepida est oratio, quam non prevenit inspiratio; that is, that prayer is a tepid prayer which is not prevented by divine inspiration; and St. Augustine, Bene orare Deum, gratia spiritalis est; that is, it is a special grace of God's Holy Spirit to be able to pray aright.
12. Now the ground of the necessity of a divine inspiration hereto is expressed in that saying of St. Paul (Quid oremus sicut oportet nescimus, &e.), We know not how to pray as we ought, and therefore the Spirit of God helps our infirmity, yea, saith he, the Spirit itself makes requests in us and for us, and this oft with groans which cannot be expressed, and which the soul itself cannot conceive. It is this inspiration only which gives a supernaturality to our prayers, and makes them fit to be heard and granted by God.
13. But of this subject much hath already been said, and
more will follow when we treat of the several degrees of prayer
(especially the perfect prayer of aspirations), where we shall
show how these inspirations are attempered according to the
natural good propensions of souls; so that those which are
14. Now a due consideration of these excellencies and most heavenly effects of internal affective prayer ought to give us a suitable esteem and valve of it above any other employments whatsoever. An experience hereof it was that made an ancient hermit, called Jacob (in Theodoret. de Vit. PP.), resolutely to persist in refusing to interrupt his appointed prayer, or to delay the time of it for any other business or civilities in visits whatsoever. He commanded all to depart when the hour was come, saying, `I came not to this solitude to benefit other men's souls, but to purify mine own by prayer.'
CHAPTER VII.
§ 1 Internal affective prayer (of conternplation) hath always been entertained at first with jealousy and rigour.
1. IT is so far from being a just prejudice against this most
excellent of God's gifts (internal prayer of the will), that it is
rather a proof of the more than ordinary eminency of it, that it
has always found some, even among the learned, and ofttimes
among such as have been the most strict and severe about
religious observances, that have and do oppose it. God forbid that
2. But among all the late masters of pure spiritual contemplative prayer, there is none deserves more our esteem, nor is more proper to be produced in this place, than the late R. F. Baltazar Alvarez, of the Society of Jesus, well known unto and most highly esteemed by St. Teresa (who was much assisted and comforted by him during her troubles and difficulties). The special benefit that may be reaped from his story is, that by occasion of his trial and examination about his prayer all the suspicions and allegations against it are well cleared, and the whole substance of this treatise worthily confirmed and asserted.
3. This venerable person, after he had with great diligence spent about fifteen years in meditation and the spiritual exercises (peculiar to his order), and yet received but little profit to his spirit by them, being, on the contrary, tormented with extreme doubtfulness and unsatisfaction, was at last guided powerfully, by God's Holy Spirit, to quit meditation and to betake himself to a serious practice of prayer immediately in the will, by corresponding to which divine motion he presently received abundance of light, and a perfect remedy against all his anguishes and perplexities.
4. But his internal troubles ceasing, outward difficulties began;
for others of his brethren and companions perceiving that
he walked in ways unknown to them, earnestly required an
examination of this new spirit, insomuch as that out of Spain
these complaints came to the ears of their then General, the
most R. F. Everardus Mercurian, resident at Rome; by order
5. This command obliged him to make a free and ingenuous apology for himself, the which, because it is most pertinent and conformable to the spirit of these instructions, and besides is not common in many men's hands, I will here set down the substance of as it is related with most commendable candour and ingenuity by F. Ludovicus de Puente, of the same society, his scholar, who wrote his life.
6. Now, in his said Apology, he freely and humbly declares `That near sixteen years he had laboured like one that tills the ground without reaping any fruit, that his heart was much strained with grief, observing that he wanted the talents for which he saw others esteemed, and particularly that he was much troubled that he had not space enough allowed him for prayer. But this temptation he overcame, resolving to employ no more time in prayer than holy obedience permitted, and rejecting that foolish ambition of excelling therein, or of pretending to divine favour, which others better deserving enjoyed. Notwithstanding, he still found his defects to multiply, and rather to disquiet than humble him; yea, they made him in an incapacity to comply with the internal counsels and invitations of God; moreover, that by reason of this unquietness the defects of others also under his government did much increase his distemper, so that he judged it a point of right government to make his subjects perform all things (like himself) with a melancholy dejectedness of mind.
7. `That at the end of fourteen years he found himself in a
practice of prayer, by which he placed himself in God's presence
as a beggar, saying little, but only expecting an alms; but by
reason that he could not keep his mind fixed on God, but did
overmuch reflect upon himself, his troubles, dejection, and utter
despair of approaching to perfection increased, since God had
8. `But when sixteen years were passed he found his heart on the sudden unexpectedly quite changed and dilated, all his disquietness vanished, and his soul, freed from all created things, being filled with an astonishing joy, like that of those which say, "Lord, when we see Thee, we have seen all good, and are entirely satiated." Here he found himself in a congregation of persons destined to beatitude, the way whereto seemed plain and easy; now he received a spiritual discretion to sever between the precious and the vile; new notions and intelligence of verities were given him, which fed his soul with joy and peace; yet such illuminations, at the first, were somewhat rare, but at the time of the writing of this Apology they were become much more frequent.
9. `Instead of that anxiety that he had formerly, because his ambitious desire of being eminent was not satisfied, now he was content to live under the cross-now he did so humble himself under all that he was in confusion to appear before any. Notwithstanding, though he honoured all men, yet he found that they were not at all needful to him, as formerly they seemed to be, but that it was both better and easier for him to converse with God only.
10. `Thenceforward he perceived that God had given him
an internal light for the ordering both of himself and others
under him, even in the smallest matters; and whereas solicitudes
in government, &c., did formerly disquiet and oppress his
spirit, now he found that businesses were far better discharged
by casting his care on God, and putting them out of his thoughts
till the time came that he was to execute his duty; so that in
the midst of a throng of cares he lived without care. Now he
was not, as formerly, troubled for that he had not time sufficient,
11. `A sight of his defects now does him good, by humbling him and making him distrustful of himself and confident in God, knowing that no defects not knowingly and deliberately persisted in do hinder God's counsels and designs for our perfection; and as for the defects of those under his government, he found it a great folly for him to disquiet himself about them, and that his former desire of making them sad and melancholy was an effect of his own impatience.
12. `His prayer now was to place himself in God's presence,
both inwardly and outwardly presented to him, and to rejoice
with Him permanently and habitually. Now he understood
the difference between imperfect and perfect souls on the point
of enjoying the divine presence, expressed by St. Thomas (22 q.
24, a. 9 ad 3, et opusc. 63); and he perceived that those were
blind that seek God with anxiety of mind, and call upon Him
as if He were absent; whereas, being already His temples, in
which His divine, majesty rests, they ought to enjoy Him actually
and internally present in them. Sometimes in his prayer
he pondered awhile on some text of Scripture, according to the
inspirations and lights then given him; sometimes he remained
in cessation and silence before God, which manner of prayer he
accounted a great treasure; for then his heart, his desires, his
secret intentions, his knowledge, and all his powers spake, and
God understood their mute language, and with one aspect could
expel his defects, kindle his desires, and give him wings to mount
spiritually unto Him. Now he took comfort in nothing but in
suffering contentedly the will of God to be performed in all
things, which was as welcome to him in aridities as consolations,
being unwilling to know more than God freely discovered unto
him, or to make a more speedy progress, or by any other ways
than such as God Himself prescribed unto him, If his heart,
out of its natural infirmity, did at any time groan under his
13. `If, sometimes leaving this quiet prayer to which God had brought him, he offered to apply himself to his former exercises of meditation, he found that God gave him an internal reprehension and restraint. For his greater assurance, therefore, he searched mystic authors, St. Dionysius Areopagita (de Myst. Theol. c. 1), St. Augustine (Epistol. 119), St. Gregory (Mor. lib. 30, 26, &c.), St. Bernard (in Cant. Serm. 55, &c.), out of which he satisfied himself, that as rest is the end of motion, and a quiet habitation the end of a laborious building, so this peaceful prayer and quiet enjoying of God in spirit was the end of the imperfect busy prayer of meditation, and therefore that all internal discoursing with the understanding was to cease whensoever God enabled souls to actuate purely by the will; and that to do otherwise would be as if one should be always preparing somewhat to eat, and yet afterwards refuse to taste that which is prepared. By this divine prayer of the will, the Holy Spirit of wisdom, with all the excellencies of it described in the Book of Wisdom (cap. viii.), is obtained, and with it perfect liberty.
14. `In consequence hereto he proceeds by reasons to demonstrate
the supereminent excellency of this reposeful prayer
of the will, as: 1. That though in it there is no reasoning of
the mind, yet the soul, silently presenting herself before God
with a firm faith that her desires are manifest to Him, doth
more than equivalently tell God her desires, and withal exercises
all virtues, humbling herself before Him, loving Him only,
and believing that leaving her own ways and constantly holding
to God's, all good will proceed from thence to her; 2. that in
this prayer a soul hath far more sublime and worthy notion of
God; 3. that this still and quiet prayer may be far more prolixly
and perseverantly practised than the tiring prayer of meditation,
15. This is the sum of the account which the most venerable F. Baltazar Alvarez, after a retirement of fifteen days, with a most humble confession of his own defects and misery, and a magnifying of God's liberal goodness extended towards him, gave unto his General.
16. Now, besides this account, he wrote likewise a short discourse, in which he did more fully treat of the nature of this prayer of rest and silence, and gave a particular answer to several objections which certain of his brethren had made and dispersed against the said prayer. The sum of which objections, with his answers to them, I will here adjoin.
17. The first objection was, that one who exerciseth this prayer, which admitteth neither of discoursive meditation nor any such like use of the understanding, seems to spend his time unprofitably in doing nothing, which might far better be bestowed in external exercises of virtues.
18. The answer hereto is, that though the understanding be
19. The second objection is, that to leave meditation, out of an expectation of divine inspirations or revelations, seems to be a tempting of God and a favouring of the error of the heretics called Illuminates.
20. The answer is, that this prayer, exercised merely by holy
affections without mental discoursings, cannot be practised but
by such as have a long time been exercised in the inferior degree
of discoursive prayer, except it be when God presents souls
extraordinarily by a special invitation and enablement; and those,
likewise, that from meditation do ascend to this quiet prayer, do
it by the guidance of a supernatural light, and being in it, they
exercise themselves therein not by desiring or expecting
revelations, but by acknowledging the divine presence in the soul
and producing the foresaid holy affections to Him. Neither is
here any affinity with the doings of the Illuminates, who, without
any call from God, without any preparation, did arrogantly
presume to pray as they did, remaining in a distracted idleness and
misspending the time in expectation of extraordinary visits,
without any good effect at all toward the reformation of their
inordinate affections; whereas, if an immortified soul should
presume to betake herself to this prayer, she will be forced to
21. In the third place, it is objected that there is no way to discern when one undertakes this prayer by a divine inspiration, and when this is done out of presumption and a desire to enjoy spiritual gifts, which nourish self-love.
22. It is answered that this will evidently enough be known by the effects, as a tree by its fruits. Now the effects of this prayer, when it is practised upon a divine call, are a softness and flexibility of the heart to the Divipe Will; a resigned acceptation of all thihgs from His hand; a confidence of obtaining all good from Him upon whom the soul hath entirely bestowed herself; an imitation of the pattern of all perfection, our Lord Jesus; a renouncing of self-will, &c. Now surely that prayer which teaches these things is doubtless from God.
23. But, fourthly, it is replied that those which practise this kind of prayer are self-opinioned, adhering to their own ways, and, out of a presumptuous conceit of being spiritual, despise others, and refuse to submit themselves to the judgment of superiors.
24. The answer is, that such defects and miscarriages as
these are not to be imputed to the prayer itself (which teaches
quite the contrary), but to the imperfections and frailty of those
that do not practise it as they ought; and therefore this is not a
ground sufficient to condemn the prayer itself, no more than
meditation ought to be condemned because the like or greater
faults are committed by some that practise it, who are more
obnoxious to a vain esteem of themselves upon occasion of some
curious inventions found out by their internal reasonings therein.
Yea, the sacraments we see are abused, but yet not, therefore,
forbidden; as for superiors, none of them, except it be sometimes
for a trial, ought to prohibit their subjects from praying according
as God, by His inspiration, directs them; and if they shall
absolutely prohibit this, they must expect that God will require
an account of them; however, in such a case it would be a fault
25. Fifthly, it is objected that some are so wholly given up to this fashion of prayer, that they are always in a kind of ecstasy, being so delighted with the gusts which they find in it, that they quite forget their obligations of charity, obedience, and exercise of virtues, from which they retire, to the end that they may immerse themselves in a prayer that affords them no truths which may profitably be communicated to their neighbours. Now all this is directly contrary to the institute of St. Ignatius; moreover, by this kind of prayer, many of the practisers of it become subject to divers corporal infirmities, which render them incapable to comply with the obligations of their state of life.
26. The answer is, that it is no wonder if some defects be
found in these persons, since none are entirely free; but, however,
the said defects are not to be imputed to the prayer, but
to undue use of it; for contemplation itself doth even urge souls
to the exercise of charity whensoever necessity and duty requires
it (not otherwise). Hence is that saying of St. Augustine
(lib. 19, de Civit. D. c. 19), Otium sanctuna qnerit charitas
veritatis, &c.,--`Love of verity seeketh a holy vacancy.' Necessity
of charity undertaketh due employments, the which charge,
if it be not imposed, one ought to remain in the fruition and
contemplation of verity, and agreeable hereto is the doctrine of
St. Gregory (in cap. vii. Job) and St. Bernard (Ser. 57 in Cant.).
Moreover, a soul by meditation may perhaps find out finer
conceits; but the will is more enriched with virtues by this
prayer. Now it is virtue alone that renders a soul acceptable
to God, and as for corporal infirmities, they proceed only from
an indiscreet use of this prayer; for otherwise it being a prayer
of stillness and repose, is far less dangerous to the head and
health than the laborious imaginative exercise of meditation,
27. A sixth objection was that this manner of prayer doth draw souls so wholly to itself, that all devotion to Saints and all praying for common or particular necessities become too much neglected and forgotten.
28. It is answered that since such vocal prayers and voluntary exercises are only means to bring souls to perfect prayer of quietness, according to St. Thomas's doctrine (22 q. 83, a. 13) they ought to cease when the soul finds herself full of fervent affections; neither is this any proof of disesteem of such means, but a right understanding and use of them. It is said of St. Ignatius that by long practice of vocal prayer, &c., he was brought to such inward familiarity with God, that he could not proceed in the saying of his office by reason of the copious communication of ardent affections and graces that God bestowed on him, insomuch as his companions were forced to obtain for him a dispensation from that obligation, because the performance of his office took up almost the whole day, so abundant were the divine visitations in it towards him. Neither are we to think that a soul by following the divine conduct in pure prayer doth thereby omit due petitions for either common or particular necessities; on the contrary, since those necessities are known to God, who sees the hearts of His servants that ardently desire a supply to them, but yet do not busy themselves much in making express prayers for them, because they would rather employ their affections in such prayer as they know is more acceptable to God,--by such a not express asking, they do privily and most efficaciously ask and obtain the said petitions; and as for devotions to Saints, they account it to be their chiefest honour that God should be most honoured.
29. The seventh and last objection was the same that the
author had before answered in his account to his General, viz.
that this fashion of prayer calls souls from the spiritual exercises
instituted by St. Ignatius, the answer to which need not be
repeated. But whereas it was added that diversity of prayer
might cause factions in the society, it was answered that the
30. This is the sum both of the account given by the V. R. Father Baltazar Alvarez to his General touching his prayer, as likewise of his answers to the objections made unto it, and the success of the tempest raised against him was, as to his own person, very prosperous and happy; for after a most strict examination his innocence and truth were asserted by his writings, and his most humble patience manifested in his whole behaviour. Moreover, the General conceived so great an esteem of him that he preferred him to two offices successively, of the greatest dignity and trust that the society then had in Spain. Notwithstanding, the same General (as the author of the Life, p. 493, saith), not approving that such a manner of prayer should so commonly be spread, did therefore restrain and moderate such a generality; and in his letters to the Provincial (p. 508) required superiors that they should direct and assist their religious so that they might highly esteem, and in their practice follow, the manner of prayer most conformable to their institute, prescribed in their exercises.
THE SECOND SECTION OF THE THIRD TREATISE.
OF THE FIRST DEGREE OF INTERNAL PRAYER, VIZ.
MEDITATION.
CHAPTER I.
1. IT is generally the custom of those that write treatises of spiritual doctrine to begin with a division of the several stations or ascents observed in the duties and exercises thereof, but such a division I have conceived most proper to be reserved to this place; and the reason is, because though in a spiritual progress there be an ascent in the practice of all duties universally of a spiritual life, as well of mortification as prayer, notwithstanding the true judgment of a progress is to be made with reference principally to prayer, according to the increase in the purity and spirituality whereof so is the person to be esteemed to have made a proportionable progress in all other duties and virtues disposing to contemplation and perfection.
2. Now several mystic authors, according to the several
3. Besides these many other divisions may be found, as of F. Benet Canfield, who, making the Divine Will (that is, God Himself) the sole object of all our exercises, doth by a division of the said Will into: 1. external; 2. internal; 3. essential or supereminent Will, virtually divide all spiritual exercises into such as are proper and conformable to these three notions of one and the same Will. Again, others divide all exercises into: 1. active; 2. contemplative, &c.; and it is of no importance which of these divisions is made use of so they be rightly understood.
4. But since, as hath been said, the degrees of perfection
generally understood as relating to all the duties of an internal
life are best conceived and measured by the degrees of internal
prayer, which, indeed, are of a different nature one from the
other, and therefore are not so properly called degrees, as several
states of prayer (which is not so in mortification or the exercise
of virtues, because the perfect do the same actions, though in a
more perfect degree than the imperfect); hence it is that
R. F. Constantine Barbanson, the most learned and experienced
author of the book called Secrets Sentiers de l'Amour Divin
, divides the whole progress of a spiritual contemplative life
according to the progress of prayer, which (saith he) hath these
degrees: 1. The exercises of the understanding in meditation.
2. The exercises of the will and affections without meditation
(which at the first are very imperfect). 3. Afterward a soul
5. Now this order of his in gross (as being most natural and suitable both to reason and experience) my purpose is to follow, yet so as to collect the four last degrees into one, so that I shall only distinguish three degrees of prayer, to wit: 1. Discoursive prayer or meditation. 2. The prayer of forced immediate acts or affections of the will, without discourse preparatory thereto. 3. The prayer of pure active contemplation or aspirations, as it were naturally and without any force flowing from the soul, powerfully and immediately directed and moved by the Holy Spirit. Now this third degree, to which the prayer belonging is, indeed, truly the prayer of contemplation, beyond which there is no state of prayer, may very conveniently include all the four degrees mentioned by Barbanson, and so nicely distinguished by him; rather out of a particular experience of the effects passing in his own soul, which, perhaps, are not the same in all (for God works according to His own good pleasure in the souls of His perfect servants, and not according to any methods that man can conceive or express).
6. These, therefore, being the three degrees of internal
prayer (which do most properly answer to the commonly assigned
ways of spirituality, the purgative, illuminative, and
unitive), of them the first is a prayer consisting much of discourse
of the understanding; the other two are prayers of the will, but
most principally and purely the last. Of these three I shall
treat in order in the following discourse (to wit: 1. in pursuit of
this second section of the most imperfect degree, to wit, meditation;
2. in the following section of the prayer of immediate acts
of the will; 3. and in the last section of the prayer of aspirations
or contemplation); but before I come to treat of each in particular,
I conceive it requisite first to show the grounds upon
which the propriety and reasonableness of this division of the
7. First, therefore, it is apparent and acknowledged that, generally speaking, a soul from a state of negligence and secularity first entering into a spiritual course, though she be supposed, by virtue of that grace by which she is moved to make so great and happy a change, to be really in the state of justification, yet there still remains in her a great measure of fear, conceived from the guilt of her former sins; and withal, strong inclinations to sin and vicious habits do yet abide, and will do so, till by long practice of virtue and piety they be abated and expelled. Moreover, a world of vain and sinful images do possess the soul, which distract her whensoever she sets her mind on God, calling on her to attend to her formerly pleasing objects, which took up all her affections, and which do still ofttimes insinuate themselves into her memory with too much contentment to inferior nature, which contentment, though she, upon reflection, do resist and renounce with her superior soul, yet this resistance is ofttimes so feeble, that frequently she is really entangled and seduced, and more oft does find ground to doubt that she has given consent thereto.
8. Such being ordinarily the disordered condition of a soul
at her first conversion, the remedy acknowledged to be proper
and necessary for her is prayer, and the highest degree of prayer
that for the present she is capable of is either a much distracted
vocal prayer or discoursive meditation, in which the understanding
and imagination are chiefly employed; and the reason is,
because although God hath imprinted true charity in such a
soul, yet seducing images so abounding, and vicious affections
being as yet so predominant in sensitive nature, there is a
9. Now when by means of such exercises the soul is become
well eased from remorse, and begins to be moved to the resistance
and hatred of sin by the love of God rather than fear of
His judgments, her discoursive prayer for all that does not
cease, but there is a change made only in the objects of it,
because, instead of the consideration of judgment, hell, &c., the
soul finds herself more inclined to resist sin by the motives of
love, or a consideration of the charity, patience, and sufferings
of our Lord, as likewise out of a comfortable meditation of the
future joys promised and prepared for her. Although charity
be much increased, yet not yet to such a point but that she stands
in need of motives and considerations to set it on work, as
likewise of good, holy, and efficacious images of divine things to
allure her to forget or neglect the vain images that yet do much
distract her. The object of her thoughts now are the infinite
joys of heaven, the sublime mysteries of faith, the blessed
Humanity of our Lord, the glorious attributes of the Divinity, &c.,
and the mortifications answerable to the present state do grow
more internal, being much exercised about inward defects, which
by prayer are discovered to her and corrected. Now a soul
whilst she continues in this sort of prayer and mortification,
standing in need of a much and frequent consideration of
10. In the second place, when a soul by perseverance in such discoursive prayer comes to find (as in time she will) that she stands in less need of inventing motives to induce her to exercise love to God, because good affections by exercise abounding and growing ripe do with facility move themselves, so that the mere presenting of a good object to the soul suffices to make her produce a good affection; thenceforward, by little and little, the soul in prayer quits discoursing, and the will immediately stirs itself towards God, and here (meditation ending) the second and more perfect degree or state of internal prayer begins, to wit, the prayer of immediate acts of the will.
11. Now a soul living a solitary or abstracted life, and being arrived to this prayer, if she should be obliged by others, or force herself to continue meditation, she would make no progress at all, yea, on the contrary, the extreme painfulness of inventing motives (now unnecessary) and tying herself to methods and prescribed forms would be to her so distractive, so void of all taste and comfort, and so insupportable, that not being suffered to follow God's invitation calling to an exercise of the will, she will be in danger to give quite over all internal prayer; whereas, by pursuing God's call, she will every day get light to discover more and more her secret inward defects, and grace to mortify and amend them; and such her mortification is exercised rather by transcending and forgetting the objects of her inordinate affections than a direct combating against them; and this state of prayer doth properly answer to that which is commonly called the illuminative way, because in it the soul with little reflection on herself or her own obscurity, by reason of sin, &c., tends directly and immediately to God, by whom she is enlightened and adorned with all virtues and graces.
12. In the third place, a soul after a long exercise in forced
affections of the will to God, represented to the understanding
by images far more subtle and spiritual than formerly, yea,
endeavouring to contemplate Him in the darkness and obscurity
of a blind and naked faith, void of all distinct and express
13. And here begins the state of pure contemplation (the end of all exercises of an internal life). In this blessed state the actuations and aspirations are so pure and spiritual, that the soul herself oftentimes is not able to give an account what she does; and no wonder, since they do not proceed from any forethought or election of her own, but are suggested to her by the Divine Spirit entirely possessing her; and although in these most sublime and blind elevations of the will, the imagination and understanding with their images are not absolutely excluded, yet so imperceptible are their operations, that it is no wonder if many mystical writers, speaking according to what they felt and experienced in themselves, have said that in pure contemplation the will without the understanding was only operative. As for the mortifications proper to this state, they are as inexpressible as the prayer; indeed, prayer and mortification seem to be now become the same thing, for the light in which the soul walks is so clear and wonderful, that the smallest imperfections are clearly discovered, and by prayer alone mortified. Prayer is the whole business of the life, interrupted by sleep only, and not always then neither; true it is that by other necessities of corporal nature, refections, study, conversation, or business, it may be depressed a little from the height in which it is when the soul sets itself to attend to God only; but still it continues with efficacy in the midst of all those avocations. And this is truly and properly that which mystics do style the unitive way, because herein the soul is in a continual union in spirit with God, having transcended all creatures and herself too, which are become as it were annihilated, and God is all in all.
14. There is no state of spirituality beyond this, but yet this
l5. These are the three states of a spiritual contemplative life, distinguished according to the three states or degrees of internal prayer. As for vocal prayer, it is not to be esteemed a peculiar degree of prayer; but it may and doth accompany all these states without any change in the substance of the prayer, though with very great variety in the actuation of the soul during its exercise; for whilst the soul is in the imperfect degree of meditation, she performs her vocal prayer with the use of grosser images and much distractedness; but being arrived to the exercises of the will, she recites them with less multiplicity and some good measure of recollection, and being in the exercise of aspirations, her vocal prayers become likewise aspirative and unitive, not at all distracting her, but rather driving her more profoundly and intimately into God.
16. Now God being both the principle and object of all our
internal exercises is, after several ways, represented to the mind
in them; for, 1. In meditation the soul, as yet much immersed
in sense, is forced to make use of a distinct grosser image by
which to apprehend Him, as the Humanity of our Lord and the
mysteries belonging thereto, and sometimes such attributes of
the Divinity as are most obvious and easy to be conceived, and
17. Now though it may seem that the most perfect have no
great advantage in this regard over the more imperfect, since all
that are imbued with ordinary knowledge do sufficiently believe
and are assured that God, being infinite and incomprehensible,
cannot be truly represented by any particular images and notions
which are creatures of our own framing, notwithstanding
we are to consider that there is a great difference between the
acknowledging of this truth in the speculative judgment, and
the operating according to such a truth by the will; for
imperfect souls, notwithstanding the foresaid judgment, when they
are to apply themselves to prayer, are forced in practice to
contradict such their speculative judgment, and to represent God
to their minds not only by particular and distinct, but even
grosser sensible images, because they find that the said true and
perfect notion of God by a general, negative, obscure conception
of faith, will have little or no efficacy on their wills, the which
will remain arid and void of all good affections, except they
exchange the said notion for others more particular and express.
Whereas, on the contrary, perfect souls having by long practice
purified their internal operations, in time do come to such a
state that they cannot, if they would, receive benefit, or warm
their affections by sensible or particular images; except they do
silence not only the imagination but understanding also, the will
remains without motion or vigour; yea, in the particular case of
the great desolation, the elevations of the will also become so
wonderfully pure, delicate, and even imperceptible, that the
soul itself can scarce perceive or so much as believe that she
18. Now the foresaid division of the three states of prayer, together with the successive purification and spiritualizing of images, is so grounded on reason and even nature, that every one that experiences prayer will perceive it, and others cannot except against it. For as we see in all arts and sciences, as (for example) music or poetry, a person that sets himself to learn them is at the first obliged to make use of a world of gross distinct images, the which he applies particularly and leisurely to every string, every stop, and every finger moving the instrument, as likewise to every word and syllable in a verse; but by exercise having attained to a moderate skill, a far less number of images will serve to direct him; and the reason is because the images, by practice, becoming more pure and spiritual, are, by consequence, more universal, so that one will come to have the virtue of a great number which formerly were requisite; and at last the person becoming perfect in those arts will be able to make a verse exact, according to the rules of poetry, without any perceptible reflection upon any particular rules, and to play on an instrument not only in the dark, but even whilst he is conversing with another, by reason that the images are become so pure and universal, that the person using them perceives them not, neither knows by what he is directed.
19. Now if the operation of a soul in natural sensible things may come to be so pure and subtle, much more in spiritual and divine matters, in exercising about which her endeavours ought to be to exclude all manner both of sensible and intellectual images, or rather in exercising about which the will alone strives to be operative.
20. Notwithstanding what hath been said of the distinction
of these three ways of a contemplative life, we are to observe
that they are not so absolutely distinguished but that sometimes
there may be a mixture of them; for it may happen that a soul,
being as yet in the most imperfect purgative way, may in some
fits be so abundantly supplied with grace, as that during the
21. So, on the other side, it may well happen that a soul that is ascended to the exercise of immediate acts, may sometimes for some short space find it necessary for her to help herself now and then, by using meditation and seeking motives in the understanding to move her affections. Therefore these three states are to be distinguished and separated with relation to the proper and constant exercises of souls.
22. Before we quit the present subject of the degrees of prayer and a spiritual life, it is, for the preventing of mistakes, to be observed that those writers likewise which teach and know no more sublime exercises than meditation do, notwithstanding, divide the whole-course of their spirituality also into these three exercises of the purgative, illuminative, and unitive way, although the perfection both of their doctrine and practice reaches no further than the active life which they profess, as we may see in the books of De Ponte, Rodriguez, &c., to which we may add Louis of Granada also, &c.
23. But these three ways of active livers, though agreeing
in name with the forementioned mystic exercises, yet are much
different in their nature and qualities; for all the said three ways
are exercised by the help and with the use of discourse, and do
never arise to the exclusion of particular sensible images, so that
the perfection of their exercise is to discourse with more subtlety,
and from such discourse to derive and draw more fervent affections
and good purposes of the will. Further than this active
24. And, indeed, if active livers should proceed further, they would then relinquish their institute, that refers all the doings of it to the exterior, which cannot be without the use and help of particular images, so that the forementioned general image of God, or rather non-image, is not at all proper for their course. They do not, therefore, ordain these their external imaginative exercises in order to contemplation, but only to enable them to perform their external deeds of charity with greater perfection and purity of intention. As therefore they do not themselves practise contemplation, so neither do they teach it to others, nor indeed can they, for want of experience.
CHAPTER II.
§§ 1, 2. Of Meditation: the first and lowest degree of internal prayer.1. The first and most imperfect degree of internal prayer is (as hath been said) Meditation, or discoursive prayer, of which we shall treat here--not with that exact niceness as may be found in many books current in all hands, yet sufficiently in order to our present design, which is to consider it only as a preparation to the perfect prayer of contemplation; and therefore the instructions concerning it shall be such as may be proper for those whom God hath called to that perfect state, and withal moved to comply with the said call. And to such many instructions will not be proper.
2. Meditation is such an internal prayer in which a devout
soul doth, in the first place, take in hand the consideration of
3. This is a prayer to the exercise whereof all sorts of persons are neither disposed nor enabled, neither is it a token either of excellency of wit and judgment or of true devotion to be apt for the practice of it; on the contrary, the more that a soul doth abound with devotion and good affections to God, the less is she enabled or disposed thereto, yea, incapable of continuing long in the exercise of it. And again, some superficial wits, full of fancy, but wanting solidity of judgment, and which are not naturally much disposed to devotion, yet if they be put to the exercise of this discoursive prayer they will perform it better and thrive more in it than others, though of sharp wits, solid judgments, and great abilities, both in learning and invention, and that withal have very good wills to seek our Lord.
4. Women are, generally speaking, less apt for meditation than men, and, by consequence, more fit for the more perfect exercises of the will, by reason that they are more disabled in judgment and invention, and more abounding in will and affections, so that in them the will draws the stream from the understanding; therefore great care is to be taken that they be not compelled without necessity to tarry long in discoursive exercises, lest thereby they may be much prejudiced in the head and spirit, with little or no profit any way, but much harm in being detained from the more proper and beneficial exercise of the will in holy affections.
5. Now there being so great and inexpressible variety in the
internal dispositions of persons, it is not possible to give certain
and general rules to fit all, except this, that in the beginning of
a spiritual contemplative course, all souls that are not naturally
incapable of raising affections by internal discourse ought to
apply themselves thereto, and to tarry therein till they find
themselves ripe for a future exercise, to which they will attain
6. This advice is of great concernment, and therefore souls are not easily and lightly to be permitted to apply themselves to exercises of the will till a convenient time spent in those of the understanding; for though, perhaps, whilst the fervor novitius lasts in the beginning of one's conversion, a soul, being then full of affection, may for a while have little need of motives to open the passage to the said affections, which of themselves will be apt enough to flow, yet that fervour ceasing, they will be at a miserable loss, full of nothing but aridities, obscurities, and desolations, having no refuge at all, except their understanding be stored with good motives of holy affections caused by former consideration and meditation.
7. Yet this is not so to be understood as if souls were to be obliged to those nice, distracting, painful methods of meditation which are described in many books, or to frame curious pageants and scenes of the mysteries to be meditated on, &c.; for though such an employment of the imagination in prayer may be proper and profitable for those that by their professions live active distracted lives, to the end by such workings of the fancy to wipe out, as it were, the vain images contracted abroad by superinducing or painting over them new and holy images, yet for those who are more solitary and abstracted such a way of meditating would be very painful, and the profit so little, as it would not countervail the pain. To such, therefore, it will suffice with moderate attention to think on the substance of the mystery proposed, or on such circumstances of it as either are expressed in the text or do even naturally attend it, and from thence to draw as strong, fervorous, and frequent affections as may be.
8. As for those that, are naturally utterly disabled and
incapable of meditating (as many women are), it is very requisite
in the beginning that they should at least supply the benefit
that comes from meditation by preparing themselves to their
9. But in case a soul incapable of meditation and unable likewise to read shall undertake a spiritual contemplative course (as none are excluded), such an one must resolve to take a very great courage to pursue her exercises of the will and affections (which is but a dry exercise, and wanting sensible devotion is very ungrateful to the palate of the soul); she must be prepared not to be daunted with aridities and distractions, which distractions she has no other way to resist or expel, but only by pure obstinacy of the will not to attend to them or care for them; and, lastly, she must use more abstraction of life and solitude to prevent the multiplying of distracting images.
10. Those who, in the exercise of meditation, are more seriously affected to the discoursing part of it than to the good desires and purposes which should flow from such discourse, are in danger of many perils, as of pride, curiosity, extravagant opinions, yea, pernicious errors. The cause of which dangers is the predominancy that their imagination hath over their other faculties, which inclines them to please themselves with subtle, aerial, and curious discourses, and with framing of places and times, and other circumstances, in the consideration of a mystery, all which inconveniences are avoided in the exercises of the superior will, which being a blind faculty is best able to heave up herself unto God in darkness and vacancy of images, and being likewise a spiritual faculty is exempted from the devil's influences, who has great dominion over our corporeal powers to suggest representations, &c. For these reasons it is good to make the discoursing part of meditation as short as may be, so as that if the mere reflection on a mystery will suffice to produce a good affection, the person is to restrain the imagination.
11. To conclude, the great and inexplicable variety that is
to be found in the dispositions of souls being considered, and
likewise the great inconvenience that necessarily follows a
misapplication of spirits to exercises improper for them, the sad
condition of those good souls cannot sufficiently be bewailed who
CHAPTER III.
§ 1. How a soul is to exercise Meditation.1. Intending now to set down more particular instructions and advices how and in what manner a soul (by her choice or profession aspiring to contemplation) ought, in order thereto, to practise the lowest and most imperfect degree of internal prayer, which is Meditation, I will first show such a beginner what he is not to do--that is, what practices and orders he is to avoid; 2. and next, how he is to behave himself in the exercise thereof.
2. As to the former, therefore, I should be so far from commending,
that I would scarce permit souls living a contemplative life
(as all enclosed religious women do, &c.) to be strictly
obliged to a prescribed method in meditation, or to those many
and nice rules which are ordained by some modern authors, as:
1. that a soul should put herself in the divine presence; 2. that
she should make acts of contrition; 3. that she should select
points of meditation; 4. that she should consider them in such
3. It is far from my intention to speak against the use of such methods and orders among those where they were first invented and are still practised, for they may well enough agree with their institute, which is far more active than contemplative. But among solitary contemplative spirits such orders are indeed a disorder, and a nice observance of such ceremonious methods would be more distractive and painful than the simple exercise itself; and particularly the expectation that an account is to be given of one's thoughts during meditation would afford more business to a soul than the mystery on which she meditates, so that she would be more solicitous to give satisfaction to her director than to perform her duty to God; and therefore St. Teresa with just reason complains against those directors which fetter and encumber their disciples' minds with orders and rules, which require more attention than the matter of the prayer itself.
4. How to meditate profitably (though not curiously) is quickly and without much difficulty learnt by such as are fit for it; but to observe all the said prescripts is both difficult, encumbering, and unprofitable, being, indeed, little better than a misspending of the time (I mean for souls tending to contemplation).
5. Moreover, in meditation I would not tie the will that it
should not go beside or beyond the understanding; on the contrary,
my advice and request is that the will, so it be carried
towards God, should be suffered to go as far as it can, and that
scope should be given to any good affection, not caring whether
6. Neither would I that when a soul has chosen one point or mystery to meditate on, she should strictly oblige herself to proceed on with it, but that if, without a voluntary roving and seeking, any other should offer itself to the mind more grateful and more gustful to the soul, she should entertain the latter, holding herself to it as long as the virtue of it well lasteth; and it ceasing, then let her return to the first proposed subject. And the like liberty I recommend in the following exercises of immediate acts, whensoever any act or good affection is suggested to the mind besides those which the soul finds in her paper proposed for the present recollection.
7. Notwithstanding, in case that the new matter (or affections) occurring be such as that it doth feed some over-abounding humour or passion in the soul, as fear (even of God Himself), tenderness, shedding of tears, scrupulosity, or dejectedness of
28. Now such freedom of spirit and permission to change the present matter or affections is to be supposed to be allowed only when the said change proceeds not out of sloth, inconstancy, a vain pleasing of the fancy or affection, but out of a judicious election, or from an interior invitation, the which most probably is from the Spirit of God; hereto, therefore, may be applied that saying of St. Bernard, Modus diligendi Deum, est diligere sine modo; that is, the measure and manner of loving of God is to love Him immeasurably and freely without a prescribed manner.
9. In the next place, having showed what incumbrances a soul is to avoid in her exercise of meditation, I will proceed to declare positively and directly how I would advise her to behave herself therein.
10. Let a soul that begins mental prayer with the exercise of meditation make choice of some good books of that subject, as Fulvius Androtius, Granada, or the abridgment of De Ponte's Meditations (which I would especially recommend).
11. Let her begin with the matter of the purgative way, as
concerning sin, death, the final judgment, hell, or the like, and
let her abide in the exercises of that way till she finds in herself
an aversion from sin, and that much of the fear and remorse
that were formerly in her are deposed, so that she is come to
have some good measure of confidence in God. When she finds
these effects in her, let her (without regarding whether she has
run over all the exercises and matters in her book belonging to
the purgative way) pass to the exercises of meditation which
respects the illuminative way (as they call it), that is to such
whose matter or argument is some mystery of faith touching our
12. Being entered into the illuminative way, let her in like manner abide in the exercises thereof till she find herself apt for resignation, love, and other affections of the unitive way, to the exercise of which let her thereupon apply herself.
13. It may happen that a soul that is duly and in right order come into the illuminative and unitive way (as those ways are distinguished by the masters of meditation), and after some time spent in the exercises proper to those ways may afterward find herself called back to the purgative, as after the committing of some fault extraordinary, or during some unusual temptation, in which cases she is to yield thereto and abide in those inferior exercises as long as she finds them proper and profitable for her (which is not like to be very long).
14. In like manner, whilst she is in the purgative way, if acts of resignation, love, &c., and much more if aspirations shall offer themselves to her (as sometimes they may), let her by all means correspond unto them as long as they are relishing to her, neglecting and forbearing in the mean time to consider motives or to produce inferior acts of contrition, fear, &c., belonging to the purgative way.
15. The ground of the reasonableness and necessity of these advices is this: because the matter and manner of prayer are to be prescribed and ordered according to the temper and disposition of souls, and not the methods of books; and therefore souls are to be applied to such a manner of prayer as God calls them to, and is likely to subdue inordinate affections in them; therefore scrupulous and fearful souls, even in the beginning; are to be forbidden the exercises of terror, &c., which belong to the purgative way, and they are to be applied to such exercise. as are apt to produce love, confidence in God, &c.
16. For some short space before a soul begins her exercise
of meditation let her look upon the book, and therein peruse the
points that she intends to meditate on; or rather, indeed, those
points are to be thought upon and provided beforehand, that is,
over-night for the morning meditation, and after dinner for the
17. Let her not trust her memory for the points that she is to meditate on, but have the book ready that she may look on it as she shall have need, and let her take one point after another as they lie in the book, or as she shall have determined before, when she prepared for the succeeding recollection.
18. In her meditating on each point let her behave herself after this manner: 1. With her memory and understanding let her think on the matter of that point; 2. out of which let her draw a reason or motive, by which the will may be inclined some way or other toward God; 3. and thereupon let her produce an act of the will (as of humiliation, adoration, resignation, contrition, &c.), abiding in such application of the soul to God as long as the will hath life and activity for it, or as long as she shall be able to do it; 4. the which failing and growing to be disgustful, let her proceed to the next point, therein behaving herself likewise after the same manner, so proceeding in order to the others following till she have spent a competent time in her recollection.
19. Now I conceive a competent time for one recollection spent in meditation to be an hour, or very little less. Whereas for the exercise of immediate acts of the will a lesser space will suffice; and the reason of the difference is: 1. because in this latter exercise more acts of the will (wherein all good doth consist) are produced than in meditation; 2. and, besides, the exercise of acts is more dry and wearisome (except in some few that abound in sensible affections) than is meditation to souls fit for it.
20. During meditation let the soul (neglecting the too common
practice, in which meditation is made rather a study and
speculation than an exercise of the spirit) spend no more time
in inventing motives and in internal discoursings than shall be
necessary to move the will to good affections; but as for such
affections, let her abide in them as long as she can (for therein
consists all the profit); and if upon one consideration or motive
she can produce many acts of the will, let her not fail to do so,
21. Indeed, in souls which have an effectual call to an internal life, their meditations will have little study or speculation in them; for after a short and quick reflection on the matter, mystery, or motive, they will forthwith produce acts of the will; and their consideration of the matter is not so much by way of reasoning or inferring, as a simple calling to mind or thinking on a subject, out of which the will may produce some act or other answerable to the point reflected on by the understanding. And this sort of meditating is proper for many ignorant persons, especially women, which have not the gift of internal discoursing.
22. A soul that practises meditation will find that at the first, she will, during one time of recollection, stand in need of many points to be thought upon, and of many motives to produce affections. But in continuance the will will become affected, as fewer points will suffice to employ it in producing good affections and purposes, which will take up almost the whole time appointed for the recollection; and a soul being come to this state, will be ready and ripe for a more sublime exercise of immediate acts of the will.
23. Another way of meditating like unto this, and proper for persons of good wills, is that which is recommended by Blosius, and seems to have been his own practice, which is, without much discoursing to represent to the mind any mystery to which the soul has an affection (as our Lord's agony, or Ecce Homo, or His dereliction on the Cross, &c.), and to regard Him in such a state with as much tenderness of affection as may be, exercising short acts of love, compassion, gratitude, &c. Moreover, he advises a person to endeavour (yet without much straining or force used) to preserve this object present to the mind all the day after, and to perform the daily employments as in our Lord's presence. By this means a soul will come well prepared with a tenderness of heart to her recollections, and so will have little need to spend time in employing face understanding.
CHAPTER IV.
§ 1. Of the custom of set appointed Retreats for Meditation, &c.1. BEFORE I quit this subject of Meditation, or treat of the signs by which a soul, after a convenient time spent in the practice of it, may be able to judge of her ripeness for a higher exercise of prayer, it will not be amiss to consider what use or effect in souls by their profession or election aspiring to contemplation, and actually advanced in the same ways, the yearly, quarterly, or otherwise appointed Retreats for more serious meditation may have toward the same end, &c. Now just ground there is to take this into consideration, because experience shows that the said custom has of late been introduced into convents (even of women) professing the greatest solitude in order to contemplation.
2. The clearing of this doubt will depend upon a due
consideration of what condition the persons are, and what are the
proper ends and uses for which the said retreats and practices
of recollection therein were (or ought to be) designed; which,
in the first place, in regard to secular persons were: 1. To be
an efficacious instrument for one in an imperfect extroverted
course of life to be brought to discern the foulness of his soul,
the peril of his state, &c., and from thence to procure remorse,
contrition, and purposes of amendment. 2. Or for a secular
person in a less perfect state of life to discern and know God's
will concerning the undertaking of a more perfect state; for
such recollections (proper for the imperfect condition of the said
persons) being practised in solitude, do serve much to the
illuminating of the understanding, purifying the intention, and
fortifying the will in good purposes and designs. 3. By the
same the said persons may be well instructed how to serve God
3. Next in regard of religious persons, the said retirements: 1. Are very helpful in the beginning of such a spiritual state, by teaching with great exactness the rudiments of mental prayer, ind for the same end they may likewise serve devout secular persons of active lives, that are desirous and have the courage, to undertake a more spiritual course. 2. In the progress of an active religious life, religious persons, by their many distractive employments and studies, cannot but contract many stains and defects, the which are not easily perceived, and less are they perfectly corrected by the help of their daily usual meditations; and, therefore, such solemn and rigorous retirements were justly esteemed ,requisite to procure light and grace for the discovering and rectifying such defects and dissipations of the spirit.
4. These surely are the natural and proper ends of the said retirements, as they are usually practised at set times, respectively to each one's particular need. Now in none of these regards can they be proper for persons that in a life of religious solitude do actually practise contemplation, except only in the last point, viz. inasmuch as the said retreats are instituted to the end that religious persons may thereby take the benefit of a more strict solitude, and a freedom from distractive employments, there to enjoy a vacancy to attend to God alone in perfect liberty of spirit. For, indeed, in this regard religious persons of contemplative orders (especially such as are employed in offices, studies, &c.) may oft have need to recollect their dissipated and distracted spirits, as well as others, so that they may do very well monthly (or as occasion shall require) by such retirements to increase their light, and to lay up a treasure of good purposes and advices for the time following, by which practice an use and habitual state of recollectedness may be attained, and provision made that it be not extinguished by future employments.
5. But if the end of such retreats be only to oblige souls to
a nice observance and practice of meditation, merely for the
foresaid purposes. without any consideration of advancing them
6. All things therefore considered, nothing seems to me more improper than the said retreats for meditation for solitary contemplatives, to whom a due observance of the choir is both far more proper and efficacious to all ends pretended to by such exercises than they are. Yea, moreover, great harm may come to souls professing contemplation by them; for so great attention, such an exact performance of nice observances, and such a captivity of spirit is required, that when all is passed, souls thereby ofttimes become disabled to continue the internal prayer proper for them, or to comply with many regular duties. To these we may add the great inconveniences which may come from strict examinations of conscience, repetitions of general confessions, &c., very prejudicial to tender souls.
?. Therefore, as touching contemplative persons, who (living,
perhaps, under the conduct of those that are wholly devoted to
the active way) shall be obliged to such retirements, and therein
to exercises very unsuitable to their state, my advice to them
is, that they should keep themselves in as much stillness of mind
as may be, and having received instructions for their prayer, let
them in practice give as much scope as they well can to their
8. And as for secular livers, to whom, indeed, the said retreats (according to custom undertaken at set times) may prove of admirable profit and benefit, to the end the virtue of them may not quickly expire, they ought to be careful afterwards to make good use of the lights received in them, and to put in execution the good purposes made during such retirements; for they must not expect by a few days' solitude and prayer to get a habit of sanctity, but only a transient good passion and disposition thereto, which, without future care to cherish and increase it, will quickly vanish, and their fervour will be cooled.
9. Moreover, perceiving evidently by this experience the good effects of mental prayer, they ought to resolve the best they can to allow some reasonable time to the prosecution of it, when they return to their secular vocations, using likewise as much abstraction as their state of life will permit. Otherwise it is to be feared they will not only return to all their former defectuousness and sins, but will moreover thereto add the guilt of ingratitude to God, that so effectually called them from sin; and their following sins will be sins against clear light.
10. Certain it is that if souls shall so rely upon the repeating
such retirements, and new taking of the same practices of meditation,
&c., as by them to make amends (tones quoties) for all
faults past, they will be in great danger to find themselves
deceived. For though in itself it be very good to seek all good
means to procure remorse and contrition for past sins, yet if a
soul, upon a consideration that she has such a special remedy in
readiness, shall neglect the care and watchfulness over herself,
it is to be feared, and not without just grounds, that that which
CHAPTER V.
§ 1. A change from meditation to prayer of the will is necessary in an internal life.1. IT is impossible for a soul that leads an abstracted life, and diligently pursues internal prayer, to fix continually in meditation, or to rest in any degree of affective prayer; because the nature of such intellectual and spiritual operations is to be come more and more pure, abstracted, and universal, and to carry the will and affections of the soul still higher and further into God; the activity of the imagination and understanding continually abating, and the activity of the will continually increasing and getting ground upon the understanding, till at last all its operations become so quieted and silenced that they case, or at least become imperceptible.
2. A soul, therefore, being thus invited and disposed to approach continually nearer and nearer unto God, if she be, either by her own or others' ignorance, so fettered with customs or rules that she is deprived of due liberty of spirit to correspond to such an invitation and to quit inferior exercises, she will find no profit at all by her prayer, but, on the contrary, extreme pain, which will endanger to force her to relinquish her recollections.
3. It is otherwise with those whose profession is to live
4. When a contemplative soul, therefore, hath for some reasonable time practised meditation, and comes to perceive that a further exercise thereof is become dry and ungrateful to her spirit, causing great disgust and little or no profit, she ought then to forbear meditation, and to betake herself to the exercise of immediate acts, which she will then doubtless perform with great gust and facility, to her notable profit in spirit.
5. It is a great mistake in some writers who think the exercise, of the will to be mean and base in comparison of inventive meditation and curious speculation of divine mysteries, inasmuch as none but elevated spirits can perform this, whereas the most ignorant and simple persons can exercise acts or affections of the will. On the contrary, it is most certain that no acts of the understanding (as speculation, consideration, deduction of conclusions, &c.), in matters pertaining to God, are of themselves of any virtue to give true perfection to a soul, further than as they do excite the will to love Him, and by love to be united to Him. And this union by exercise may be obtained in perfection by souls that are not at all capable of discourse, and that have no more knowledge of God than what is afforded from a belief of the fundamental verities of Christian faith; so that it is evident that the end of all meditation, &c., is the producing acts of the will. Therefore let no man neglect or scorn the exercise proper for him, out of a conceit that it is too mean; but let him first try the profit of it, and not till then make a judgment.
6. Others there are that do, indeed, persuade souls in due
time to quit the exercises of the understanding for those of the
7. Notwithstanding, I cannot join with these authors in this position, nor agree that a due liberty of spirit should be abridged for any pretext whatsoever. The ground of which liberty is this, that a soul is to make the experience and proof of her own spiritual profit to be the rule and measure of all her spiritual exercises, and upon no colours or conceits of perfection in any subject or exercise, to oblige herself thereto further than she finds it helpful and gustful to her spirit.
8. As for the mystery of the Passion, it does, doubtless, deserve
all the titles given unto it; but yet souls are not to be
discouraged if they find in themselves a disability to meditate on
it, whether this disability proceed from some natural temper of
the internal senses or from abundance of affections in the heart,
that cannot expect, because they do not need curiously to search
motives from the understanding and discourse; neither is it to
be supposed that such persons, exercising immediate acts of the
will toward God without discoursing on the Passion, are therefore
bereaved of the true (yea, only true) exercise of our Lord's
Passion. On the contrary, in such exercises of the will is
contained the virtue of all precedent meditations. Neither are the
persons driven to the pains and expense of time in finding out
reasons and motives to raise their affections to our Lord, but
immediately and without more ado suffer the affections to flow;
and they do far more truly, efficaciously, and profitably exercise
and, as it were, exemplify the Passion itself; and this in two
manners, viz. 1. In their internal prayer, wherein they produce
9. This divine object, therefore, is far from being lost or forgotten by such proceeding in prayer, yea, it is in a far more noble manner both commemorated and imitated; and surely to tie the soul generally in all recollections to a particular curious reflection on the circumstances belonging to our Lord's Passion, would be as if one would oblige a person that can read perfectly, and with one glance of his eye join a whole sentence together, to make an express and distinct reflection on each letter, syllable, and word. Such a framing and multiplying of images would only serve to obscure the mind and cool the affections. Well may such devout souls, out of time of prayer, in reading or discoursing, admit such images, and receive benefit by them in future recollections; but when they actually pray, then to be forced to stop and restrain the will from melting into divine love or from sacrificing herself to God by perfect resignation, &c., till she have passed through her former imperfect method of imaginative meditation, is all one as to forbid souls to unite themselves in spirit to the Divinity.
10. Notwithstanding, when souls come to be perfect they
will be in such a state as that the express consideration of this
or any other good sensible object will be no impediment at all
to their higher exercises, yea, it will very efficaciously advance
the soul in them, and this is after that perfect contemplation is
attained to; for then the imagination is so rectified and so
perfectly subjected to the superior soul, that it will not only not
obscure or distract, but, on the contrary, will with great readiness
help to make contemplation more pure and clear. Then a view
of the Humanity of our Lord will drive the soul more deeply
into the Divinity, as we see that the glorified Saints, without the
least distraction to their vision of God, yea, surely with an
addition to the perfection of it, do in their thanksgiving reflect on
11. Till souls, therefore, do attain to such contemplation, let them (being in the exercise of immediate acts, &c.) content themselves to exercise the mystery of the Passion virtually, though not expressly, remembering the saying of a spiritual author, that in God nothing is neglected. All faith and all love is exercised in the contemplation and union of the spirit by love to the Divinity; all particular devotions are both sufficiently and perfectly performed when we perform our principal duty most perfectly. In doing this we do honour the Saints after a manner most acceptable to them; we do most perfectly discharge our vocal prayers (which are not of obligation), and we most efficaciously express our charity both to our friends, living and dead, so that there will be no need for such ends to interrupt or distract our recollections by obliging ourselves voluntarily to multiply the repeating of offices, &c.; and lastly, so far is this from being any disparagement to our gratitude unto our Lord for His sufferings, that we thereby acknowledge that all the good thoughts that we entertain, and all the good actions that we do, are produced in virtue of His Passion, adhered to by faith and love, although no express internal discourse on it be exercised.
12. Now what hath here been delivered, concerning the disobliging of souls that practise internal prayer from tying themselves to imaginative exercises about sensible objects, is not only suitable to reason, but is moreover confirmed by the authority of learned and experienced mystic writers, and particularly the devout reader may see what Barbanson in his Secrets Sentiers (Part I. cap. vi. Admonit. 2) hath written on this point.*
13. Thus having shown the indispensable necessity for a * 3
14. Let every devout soul diligently pursue her present exercise in prayer, advisedly undertaken or recommended to her by a prudent director, till there come a proper time for a change. Let her (saith the excellent author of Scala Perfectionis) content herself with this gift of God till He be pleased to bestow on her a better, which He will not fail to do when He shall see it to be for her good; and so doing she cannot but increase in charity, although she see no evident proof of her advancement in spiritual operations. Whensoever it shall be God's pleasure to make a change in her prayer, He will by degrees so press her thereto, that in the end she shall both clearly perceive and correspond to His invitation; and till that time come it is to no purpose for her to examine or frame any judgment of her progress. Her best is to do her duty, and leave the success to God.
15. A change, whensoever it is made as it ought to be, consists
in this, that the activity of the fancy and discourse is abated,
and the whole internal exercise of prayer by little is reduced to
16. Ordinarily, when a time of change from a more imperfect to a more sublime exercise of prayer cometh, it will not on the sudden or at once be perceived, or but very obscurely and doubtfully; only a soul will perceive a bettering in her exercises, her operations by little and little becoming more spiritual; and, indeed, in some persons there is almost daily a bettering and purifying of their prayer, which themselves do or may well enough observe, though, perhaps, they are not able to express the manner of it to another by reason of its subtilty.
17. Far less inconveniences would follow by detaining a soul
somewhat too long in an humble inferior exercise (as of meditation)
when she is fit and ripe for a more sublime one, than if
(through inconsideration, levity, or an ambitious humour to
imitate examples or instructions in books not pertinent to her)
she should at the first, or before her time, be put into one above
her present capacity; for in the former case an easy and present
remedy may be found by exalting the soul afterward to a more
perfect exercise suitable to her present disposition, till which be
done she will at least exercise her humility and submission of
judgment, by which she will receive much profit. But it is very
difficult to find a remedy in the other case; because, first the
natural unwillingness and shame that is in souls to acknowledge
their too hasty ambition and to descend lower will secretly
hinder them; and, besides, they will be ready to justify themselves
by misapplying certain documents in spiritual authors,
which forbid souls to quit their present exercises for one inferior,
through, any discouragement from aridities or unsatisfaction
found in them. Notwithstanding, except they will be content
with the mortification of returning to meditation (in case they
be not yet ripe for immediate acts of the will), they will be in
danger of incurring an habitual dryness, melancholy, and stupidity;
and, moreover, they will run into an endless labyrinth,
18. Yet it cannot be denied but that God doth often invite souls to some change in prayer, according to that which before they had read in some books; and then they are to follow the instructions of such a book as a light sent them from God. In which case it is indeed the secret motion and invitation afforded them by God to apply such instructions that is their sure guide, without which they must apply nothing that they find in books.
19. More particularly by these following signs a devout soul may, for the most part, perceive and judge when it is fit for her to change her exercises of prayer (as, for example, to quit meditation, and to betake herself to a prayer of the will, &c.).
20. First, she will not find that pleasure, satisfaction, and profit in her present exercise which formerly she did, but, on the contrary, a sensible disgust and a kind of impotency to practise internal discourse any longer; or, if she will force herself to observe her method of meditating, it will produce no effect upon her affections, which, if they were left to themselves, would flow far more freely; and this disgust is not for once or twice, nor, as formerly, upon occasion of some corporal distemper, passion, aridity, or any unusual accident, but it is a lasting, disgust arising from a desire to please God and to grow in perfection, joined with an uncertainty or fear that the way wherein she now is is not proper to effect that desire.
21. Secondly, she will thereupon find in herself a certain motion or inward invitation to enter into some other new exercise, as yet not clearly known to her; or, if there be no new exercise proposed to her, there is, however, a motion to a cessation from the present exercise, at least forasmuch as concerns the manner of it; as it happens when, from aspirations, a soul is invited to a resting and repose in God, with a cessation of all active aspirations or affections, which is an immediate dispositicn to a supernatural contemplation.
22. Thirdly, a devout soul, considering the benefit that she
hath hitherto reaped by her present exercise and her accus-
23. Fourthly, during these uncertainties and irresolutions, her distaste in her present exercise rather increasing than diminishing, and God still interiorly, though not grossly and sensibly, inclining her to the new proposed way, she at length, as it were forced thereto, adventures upon it, yet with some fear,at the first whether this change will prove for her good or no.
24. Fifthly, as soon as she is well entered into this new exercise, presently she will find it gustful and delightful unto her, and withal much more profitable than was the other formerly practised; whereupon she will thenceforward with courage and joy persevere in it.
25. By such steps and degrees doth a soul that is purely under the guidance of God's Holy Spirit pass from one degree of prayer to another formerly unknown to her, till at last she come to contemplation; and she will clearly perceive that it was not herself but God only that did, as it were, lead her by the hand, and draw her forward into the new exercise, teaching her likewise how to behave herself in the beginning; whereas in the pursuance of it she afterwards proceeds, as it were, by her own habitual skill, though really God is in everything her secret Master and Helper. And He deals with an humble soul as a writing-master with his scholar, who at first moves and directs his hand to form and join letters, but afterwards directs him only with his eye and tongue; or as a father that carries his child over a ditch or stile, but lets him go alone in the even plain way.
26. And as for a soul that, by reading or teaching, is informed
in the nature and degrees of internal prayer, her proceeding
and transition is much after the same manner, excepting
only that the next degree to which she is to ascend does not
27. To conclude this point: a spiritual life is subject to many and wonderful changes, interior as well as exterior, and all are according to the mere will and good pleasure of God, who is tied to no methods or rules; therefore, following Him in all simplicity and resignation, let us wonder at nothing; let us neither oblige ourselves too rigorously to any exercise, nor refuse any to which He shall invite us, seem it never so strange, or to natural reason even senseless. For in His guidance there can be no danger of error, but, on the contrary, there is all security; and this may and ought to be a great comfort and encouragement to a well-minded resolute soul.
THE THIRD SECTION OF THE THIRD TREATISE.
OF THE EXERCISES OF IMMEDIATE FORCED ACTS OF THE WILL, BEING
THE SECOND DEGREE OF INTERNAL PRAYER.
CHAPTER I.
1. A SOUL that by a divine call, as being in a state of maturity for it, relinquisheth meditation to the end to betake herself to a more sublime exercise, which is that of immediate Acts or Affections of the will, then only begins to enter into the ways of contemplation; for the exercises of the will are the sublimest that any soul can practise, and all the difference that hereafter follows is only either in regard of the greater or lesser promptitude, or in regard of the degrees of purity wherewith a soul produces such acts.
2. So that the whole latitude of internal prayer of the will (which is contemplative prayer) may be comprehended under these two distinct exercises--to wit, 1. The exercise of forced acts3. Of these two exercises I shall consequently treat, beginning with the more imperfect, which is that of forced immediate acts or affections of the will.
4. In this exercise I make some difference between acts and affections of the will, the former of which are made in and by the superior will only, without any concurrence of sensitive nature. Such are acts of humiliation, resignation, &c., the producing of which does not cause any gust in inferior nature; whereas affections of love, joy, hope, desire, &c. (being exercised by imperfect souls), are much immersed in sense; and they begin at the first almost wholly in inferior nature, but yet by practice they become more and more pure, being raised to the top of sensitive nature, where it is joined or combined with the superior spiritual will.
5. Now whether of these two, that is, acts or affections, are to be practised respectively by souls, that must depend upon the observation and experience that each soul has of her own natural disposition and inclination. Generally, souls are more disposed to the exercise of immediate acts, which, likewise, are both more profitable and more secure, and, therefore, in the following discourse I shall most insist upon them.
6. And as for the exercise of sensible affections, it belongs only to such souls as in their natural temper are more tender and affectionate; whose love expresses itself with great liquefaction in sensible nature, so that they are easily moved to tears, and do feel warmth and quick motions about the heart, &c. (which effects or symptoms do not argue love to be greater; for it may be as cordial and more firm, generous, and active in others who seldom or never feel such effects).
7. Such tender souls as these, having withal a natural good propension to seek God in their interior, can easily exercise their affections to God in and by their corporal nature, without troubling themselves with seeking reasons and motives for it; yea, in a short time they come to have a kind of disgust in inventing or considering motives represented by the understanding.
8. As for the manner how such souls are to behave themselves in their recollections, the special instructions following concerning the exercising of immediate acts of the will will serve, so that there will be no need of repeating them twice.
9. The principal care that such souls ought to have is, to endeavour to raise this their love out of sensitive nature to the superior spiritual will, by whose operations alone the soul is truly perfected. Therefore, according to the advices formerly given touching sensible devotion, they are to mortify and restrain rather than to give scope to tears and other tendernesses of nature in prayer, &c.; and some other particulars which do concern affections, as distinct from acts of the will, shall hereafter be occasionally taken notice of.
10. Now besides these sensible acts of love there are others,
which are purely in spirit, and which, among all the operations
of the will, are the most sublime that can be exercised in this
life; for they cannot be used by a soul (so as to be her constant
usual exercise) till she be come to a perfect degree of mortification,
which ordinarily is not before a passive union; after which
they are exercised in a manner so spiritual and divine, that the
unexperienced cannot conceive nor the experienced express.
Those are certain painful yet delightful longings after God; certain
languishing elevations of spirit towards an unknown, dark,
11. As touching the most profitable exercises of immediate acts of the will, the practice thereof in gross is after this manner. The soul's aim is to recollect herself by that general notion that faith gives her of God; but being not able to do this presently, she doth in her mind, and by the help of the imagination, represent unto herself some Divine Object, as some one or more perfections of God, or some mystery of faith, as the Incarnation, Transfiguration, Passion, Agony, or Dereliction of our Lord, &c.; and thereupon, without such discoursing as is used in meditation, she doth immediately, without more ado, produce acts or affections one after another towards God, or upon herself with reference to God, adoring, giving thanks, humbling herself in His presence, resigning herself to His will, &c.
12. This exercise is more easy to learn and comprehend than meditation, because so many rules are not necessary to it, neither is there in it such study or exercising the abilities of the understanding or imagination. It is, indeed, a very plain, downright, and simple exercise, consisting merely in the efficacy of the will; but notwithstanding such plain simplicity, it is a far more noble exercise than that of meditation, as being the fruit and result of it; for whatsoever the understanding operates with reference to God can produce no good effect upon the soul further than it hath relation to and influence on the will, by disposing it to submit and resign itself to God, or to tend towards Him by acts of love, adoration, &c.
13. Now this exercise, although likewise it be not so busy and laborious as meditation, yet it may and will oftentimes seem to some souls, even after they have made a reasonable progress in it, to be more harsh and difficult; but the good-will and resolution of the soul persisting in it will, by God's grace, overcome all difficulties.
14. An advice, therefore, it is again and again to be repeated,
and never to be forgotten--to wit, that the devout well-minded
15. In forced immediate acts of the will, especially at the beginning, there is some degree of meditation, which is the thinking on the object, and thereupon internally producing the act or affection itself, and quietly continuing and resting in it till all the virtue of it be spent. There is, likewise, always some use of images; and in the beginning these images are more gross, but afterwards, by practice, they grow more pure, and all manner of discourse ceaseth; yea, the soul will begin to reject all distinct images, and apprehend God without any particular representation, only by that obscure notion which faith informs us of His totality and incomprehensibility; and this only is truth, whereas all distinct images are but imperfect shadows of truth.
16. Now how great is the security of a soul thus operating purely by the will? How free is she from those errors and dangers into which she may be led by the curious searching subtilty of the understanding? Here God Himself is only her light, and not any imagination of her own; though images should intrude themselves perforce into the fancy, or be incited by the devil, yet the soul will not with the will apply herself to such images, but either diverts her mind from them or transcends and renounces them; and without images stirring up sensuality and the rational will, the devil cannot produce the least harm or danger to the soul, nor hinder her union with God.
17. The more plain and simple that acts of the will are (for
the manner of expression), the more proper and efficacious are
they to cause a good and profitable recollection; and therefore
such elegant and sprightly expressions as are to be found in
many places of St. Augustine's Confessions, Soliloquies, &c., or
in St. Bernard, St. Teresa's Exclamations, &c., though they be
more full of life, and more apt to inflame affection, being read
out of times of recollection, yet they are not so proper to be used
18. The less impetuous that the operations of the will are in this exercise of Immediate Acts, and the more still, quiet, peaceable, and profound that they are (so there be no wilful negligence), the more effectual and profitable are they, and the more efficacious to still passions, as also to compose and settle the imagination.
19. There may come much harm to a soul by cessation from internal working, and from all tendence to God in her recollections, if so be the motive of such cessation be a desire and expectation to hear God speaking after any unusual manner within her, and telling her some new thing or other; for by giving way to such a foolish presumption she will deserve, and put herself in a disposition to receive, diabolical suggestions, or, at least, vainly to conceive and interpret her own imaginations to be internal speakings of God; and this may prove very perilous if a soul give credit to such fancies (as probably such souls will); but they ought to consider that if God's pleasure be such as to communicate His will internally after an extraordinary manner, He will speak and work whether the soul will or no, and whether she will or no she must hear and suffer. And, therefore, let her abstain from such indiscreet invitations or expecting such divine conversations; let her continue quietly her exercises, and not cease till God force her to cease them.
20. The custum practised by some spiritual airectors of requiring
from all their disciples an account of their internal prayer,
formerly judged to be inconvenient, as causing distractions and
too frequent reflections with solicitude upon their present
actuations, to the end they may remember them, and so be able to
relate them,--the said custom, I say, is moreover (besides this
inconvenience and uselessness) of extreme difficulty in this
exercise, which, being simple and plain, acted only or chiefly by the
21. Where there is a good propension in the interior to introversion, an act produced by the will to God is not only much more prompt, facile, and profound, but also far more efficacious than any other without such a propension can be, though the party be never so learned, and employ never so much the faculty of reasoning. Yet do I not deny but that even souls of the greatest propensions may sometimes find themselves obliged to make use of some meditation. But (unless their director mislead and wrong them) they will not tarry long therein, but will presently break forth copiously into good affections.
CHAPTER II.
§§ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14. Touching certain forms of immediate acts, &c., adjoined to the end of the book; and how they are to be used.
1. AT the end of this book I have adjoined a collection of
several patterns of exercises by acts of the will and holy affections,
2. As touching, therefore, the foresaid exercises of forced
immediate acts of the will and affections, I have compiled a
sufficient variety of them proper for all states and dispositions
of souls, as acts of remorse, fear, contrition, &c. (which belong
to the purgative way), and likewise acts of adoration, glorification,
humiliation, resignation, and love (which belong to the
illuminative and unitive ways). I have, moreover, made some
distinct exercises of affections, more proper for some souls than
are those which I call acts of the will; besides, I have set down
most copiously patterns of simple acts of resignation, as being
generally the most useful and proper for most souls. And
lastly, several exercises there are mixed and interlaced partly
3. A soul that, after a sufficient time diligently spent in the practice of meditation, is maturely called and conducted by God to the exercise of immediate acts may, and indeed ought, at the first to take for the subject of her recollections those acts which belong to the unitive way--to wit, acts of divine love, resignation, &c.; but the case is otherwise with a soul that is found utterly unfit for meditation, and consequently must necessarily begin a spiritual course with the prayer of immediate acts; for, for such a soul (ordinarily speaking), it will be expedient that at the beginning she take for the matter of her acts such as are proper for the purgative way, as acts of contrition, fear of judgment, hell, &c.; and this advice is conformable to the directidns of Blosius in the tenth and eleventh chapters of his Institutions.
4. Now for the use of the said exercises of immediate acts and affections, I would advise a soul that is well disposed and resolved to practise them that, at the first, she would rather use them mentally, because it is less distractive and more recollective, unless by experience she find that the using them vocally doth most relish with her spirit, and (as in some dispositions it may) cause a more intimate and perfect recollection.
5. Whereas every exercise consists of about ten clauses of acts or affections, let her not tie herself precisely to that number in any recollection; but if one exercise will not serve, let her borrow from the, next following; and again, if one be too much for one time, let her use as many of those acts in order as they lie as will suffice for the time, and no more, and in the next recollection let her begin where she last ended.
6. A devout soul will find that, by diligent practice, in progress
of time the number of acts or affections to be exercised in
7. Let her generally observe the order and sequel of the said acts contained in the exercises proper for her, beginning and prosecuting them as they lie; for otherwise she will spend the precious time allotted for prayer in looking here and there for somewhat that may be pleasing to her fancy or humour, and yet in the end, perhaps, not content herself, or at the least the satisfaction that she may come to find will scarce countervail the distraction incurred and time lost. And again, it is an ill custom of some to take at random the acts or affections on which they would exercise themselves, opening the book and at adventure making use of what-their eyes first light on.
8. Yet let her not tie herself so rigorously and superstitiously to any of the said acts, but that if without searching there should be offered to her any other kind of act or affection (be it resignation, love, or aspirations, &c.) which may be gustful to her, let her entertain it, and therein abide as long as the relish of it lasteth, and that ceasing let her return to prosecute the acts of the present exercise.
9. Yet one special case there is, in which a soul ought by no means to oblige herself to any order prescribed in the said exercises, and that is, when she finds that fear or scrupulosity do overmuch abound in her, causing unquietness, dejection, and want of confidence in God. In which case let her by all means omit such exercises or acts as are apt to raise or feed such passions in her, and instead of them let her apply herself to exercises of hope, love, and joy in God, which ought to be cherished in her.
10. Yea, souls that are of such a disposition ought, even in 511. A soul having pitched upon any act or affection contained in the said exercises, let her tarry as long upon each of them, without passing to another, as her gust unto such an affection lasteth, and as she finds profit to her spirit by it.
12. Whensoever in any clause there is contained matter of several desires or affections, let her in her mind and exercising separate them, and rest upon each of them severally, for by this means the said exercises will last longer and yield more profit.
13. After that all the exercises appointed for her have been passed over, let her repeat and pursue them again and again, unless she do find herself drawn by God to some other exercise more perfect, as is that of aspirations. And, indeed, whensoever in her exercise during her recollection she does find herself moved to perfect aspirations, elevations of the will, &c., or else to produce some other acts, as of resignation, &c., upon occasion of some present cross to be sustained, let her not fail to correspond to such an invitation.
14. Those that can find no profit or relish by any of these prescribed exercises, or the like, may conclude that they are not as yet ripe for them, and that, therefore, they are to continue in discoursive prayer till it loses its relish, and that they begin to find gust in affections.
15. The acts and affections in the following exercises are
16. But withal such actuations are ofttimes very painful, by reason that such introversions are exercised without the help of grosser images (which have some kind of recreating diversion in them), and when such images do offer themselves, the soul tending to the naked Divinity tarries not in them, but transcends or rejects them. And if her mind, finding no gust in an object so perfectly spiritual, becomes willing to ease itself by fastening upon some other good but inferior object, she is by some writers taught to withdraw her attention from anything, but God; which violence and self-contradiction cannot be without much pain, insomuch that souls become thereby sometimes so tired with such introversions, and find so great difficulty in seeking the Divine presence so above the course of nature, that they lose all comfort and profit in their exercises, yea, and come to such a pass that they find an impossibility to introvert themselves, by reason that, to their seeming, they find not God so present as at other times.
17. Therefore in such cases it not only may be permitted, but ought to be enjoined, unto a soul to give ease unto herself, by quitting for a time such painful introversions and addresses to the pure Divinity, and, instead thereof, exercise herself in producing other acts less painful because less introverting, as acts or affections to the Humanity of our Lord, to Angels, Saints, &c.; yea, she may sometimes address her internal speech to her own soul, or to some person or creatures absent, yet all with reference to God, for otherwise it would not be an act of religion, nor profitable to the soul.
18. The truth is that, for the attaining to contemplation, it
is not necessary (speaking of precise and absolute necessity)
that the acts whereof the exercises consist, should immediately
be directed to the pure Divinity (though it cannot be denied
but that such are the most perfect and most efficacious, because
the most introverting; and therefore a soul must give over all
19. To the end, therefore, to comply with the several dispositions of souls, I have in many places in the following exercises intermixed several other acts, for the most part addressed to our Lord's most sacred Humanity, likewise to our Blessed Lady, &c., and sometimes soliloquies to the soul herself.
20. And such acts and affections as these are frequent in the Psalms and other Scriptures; so David speaks to his own soul: Nonne Deo subjecta eris, anima mea?--`O my soul, wilt thou not be subject and resigned to God? And again: Quare tristis es, anima mea, &c.--`O my soul, why art thou sad, and why dost thou so disquiet thyself in me? Hope still in God, for,' &c. Again, sometimes he speaks to persons absent: Venite et narrabo quanta fecit Deus animae meae,--`Come hither, and I will tell you how great things God hath done for my soul.' Sometimes in Scripture the soul imagines that she hears God speaking to her, as, Veni, electa mea, et ponam in te thronum meum,--`O my chosen beloved soul, come, and I will place my throne in thee.' St. Augustine's Soliloquies and Thomas a Kempis are full of such kind of acts, and by any such change the soul will receive some refreshment, and be enabled to produce some good affections to God.
21. Now as I said that the form of the act is not of absolute necessity, so neither is the nature or matter of it, as whether it be of contrition, humiliation, adoration, resignation, &c., performed to God, or of congratulation to the Saints, veneration of them, or imploring their intercession, so that such acts be ultimately terminated in God; for it is perseverance in any exercises of religious acts which is the principal, if not only, means to attain to contemplation.
22. The truth is, whatsoever kind of acts or devotions a
soul useth, if they be constantly practised they will all end in
God; so that even the most ignorant among those that God
23. The general rule and advice, therefore, in this matter is, that accordingly as souls upon experience and observation do find themselves disposed to any kinds of acts or affections, whether of one kind only or several kinds mixed together, so they must order their exercises and recollections, preferring the savour and profit that their souls find in them, before any rules, methods, or authority of examples.
24. Some few souls there are to whom one only exercise, without any change or variety, may suffice for their whole life, till they arrive to perfect contemplation. So that their advancement will consist only in the degrees of purity and recollection with which they perform the said exercise. Now these are such souls as: 1. Are fitted naturally for acts of the will and not for meditation; because in discoursive prayer change of matter will be necessary, inasmuch as the same motive unvaried will not have the efficacy to produce sensible affections. And again, souls will be apt to be cloyed and to have an aversion from an affection or desire, after they have fed upon it for some reasonable time. 2. Such as withal have a very strong and urgent call from God to seek Him in His internal ways, joined with natural aptness to an internal life, which aptness consists in a stability of the imagination and a quietness of passions.
25. For such souls as these it will be best that they should
be confined to one exercise, such an one as that is which Blosius
in his Institutions hath framed, and professeth that by a diligent
prosecution thereof (together with mortification) a soul may
attain to perfection and mystic union. A pattern of such an
26. And, indeed, one singular benefit that such souls will reap by being constant to one exercise is this, that they will never have to seek for it nor stand in need of books, because after a little practice they will have it in their hearts and memories; only good care must be had to fit the exercise to the soul, giving a scope and latitude sufficient to it, that it may comprehend in it acts suitable to several states of the soul; that is, both acts of contrition and likewise of the exercise of the principal virtues (among all which the most efficacious, profitable, and lasting are the acts of resignation). In the exercise of which it will be good for the soul to abide till she be fitted and called by God to pure aspirations, for then all manner of prescribed exercises must cease, because then a soul does not pray by her own election, but by an internal impulse of the Divine Spirit.
27. Some spiritual writers for this purpose recommend our
Lord's Prayer for a constant exercise in daily recollections,
advising such souls to exercise separately every petition as a several
act, dwelling on each as long as they can find relish in it, and
so doing they shall be sure not to omit anything that a soul
can or ought to pray for; and this advice is suitable to the
teaching of an ancient holy hermit, whose words, recorded by
Cassian (9 Conf. c. 25), are these: Haec oratio licet omnem videatur
perfectionis plenitudinem continere, utpote, &c.; that is,
`This prayer of our Lord, although it may seem to contain in it the
fulness of all perfection, as being either begun or established
by our Lord's own authority, yet it doth promote those that are
familiarly exercised in it to that far more sublime state which
we mentioned before; conducting them to that inflamed prayer,
that far more supereminent actuation of soul known or experienced
by very few, yea (to speak more properly), altogether
inexpressible, which, transcending all human sense or knowledge
is not distinguished by any sound of speech or motion of
the tongue, nor any pronunciation of words, but it is a degree
28. But it is not ordinary to find souls so composed in their imaginations and resolute in their wills as to content themselves with one only exercise; and for this reason I have made a collection of several kinds, with sufficient variety and mixture. These I have gathered out of several books, using mine own liberty and judgment in altering them so as to make them more proper for those that prosecute internal affective prayer, and for that purpose ofttimes leaving out many discourses and considerations intermingled with them in the books out of which they have been extracted.
29. Now I do not pretend nor desire that souls practising affective prayer should oblige themselves to these particular exercises, or to the order observed in them. They may, if they conceive it for their purpose, frame other exercises for their own use, either by selecting here and there out of these or out of any other books such acts or affections as they shall find agreeing to their spirit; but having framed such a collection, I would seriously advise them to practise according to the advices here set down, especially in this chapter.
30. The reading of some pious discourse before recollections, usually practised in communities, is a good and profitable practice, but especially proper for souls that are not advanced beyond meditation, who may do well to attend to the mystery read, that after they may make it the matter of their prayer; yet better it were they should have the matter of their meditation prepared beforehand, because it is to be feared that by once reading over the points of a mystery they will not be sufficiently imprinted in the memory so as to be made use of.
31. But as for souls that are in the practice of immediate
32. When the preparation by reading is past, let the person applying himself to his recollection look upon the matter of the act or affection that he intends to employ his prayer upon; and after this, withdrawing his eyes from the book, let him think a while upon it, framing a suitable image or conception of it; and when that is done, let him forthwith produce an act or affection to God answerable to the matter, resting thereon as long as the virtue thereof lasteth, and so proceed to the following acts in like manner.
33. Some souls there are that, through a secret natural quality in their internal senses, cannot so work with the imagination as to produce an image that may become a matter of prayer to them; such persons, consequently, are not fit for the exercise of immediate acts of the will (and much less for meditation); they are, therefore, to apply themselves to the exercise of pious desires or amorous affections. But generally souls are so disposed as to be rather enabled for acts of the will than affections, yet so that sometimes also they will find affections more flowing than acts, and, therefore, accordingly they are to give way to them.
34. It may happen sometimes to devout souls that they may
find themselves disabled to either of them. In such case I would
advise them to use a discreet violence on themselves to exercise
some good acts most relishing to them (for where force is to be
35. But if, after all this, it should happen (which would be very strange) that they should find all these ways insupportable to them, so that they can do nothing at all, both the understanding and will failing them, then, since no active working, external or internal, will help them, they may conceive it to be the case of an extraordinary desolation and desertions; so that their only recourse must be to pure suffering with patience and resignation, exercising these the best they can in such circumstances; which, if they will do, then will this afflicting desolation really prove more profitable than a state and prayer of light and comfort, which profit is scarce perceptible, because the Spirit of God works more intimately in the depth of the spirit, but, therefore, is more efficacious to the soul's advancement.
36. In this case I should scarce allow the suffering soul to divert and ease her mind by reading (and much less by any corporal exercise) during the time appointed for her recollection; or if so, as soon as ever she finds by a little glancing on a book an affection to be raised, let her pursue the said affection, and quit reading presently; for reading at such times, being allowed merely for necessity, ought to be used no further than necessity shall require.
37. No certain rules or determinations can be assigned for
the time that souls are to be detained in the exercise of certain
38. But herein every one is to regard the state of his soul and conscience, observing whether he find therein quietness and competent satisfaction, in which case he may reasonably judge that he may relinquish the acts of the purgative way.
39. But as for giving over the acts of resignation and love, &c., from thence to pass to the exercise of aspirations, God knows a much longer space of time is required, even in souls the most innocent. For this sublime exercise, arising out of a settled habitual charity fixed in the soul through long and constant practice of forced acts of the will (contrary to the teaching of Barbanson, who saith that souls may from meditation immediately pass to aspirations), it does not depend on man's choice when he will exercise aspirations, of which God alone is the mover and director; and whatsoever industry in prayer a soul shall use, it is very unusual that she should be enabled to arrive to this exercise in youth, before the boiling heat and activity of nature be well qualified.
40. Notwithstanding, in whatsoever exercise a soul shall be, if such aspirations do offer themselves she is to give way unto them; and as long as they continue she is to cease all other forced and elected acts.
41. To conclude these instructions, it is to be considered that
the following patterns of exercises of acts, &c., are to be made
use of only for a necessity, such as commonly beginners have,
yea, and most souls even after they have for a good while pursued
this internal prayer; but as for those whose interior, with-
CHAPTER III.
§§ 1, 2. More special advices touching the exercise of affections of divine Love.1. WHEREAS all internal affective prayer consisteth either: 1. of such affections as are apt to cause suitable motions in corporal nature; 2. or of acts of the will, produced by and residing in the superior soul, as among holy affections the principal is Love, the source and mover of all the rest, so among all immediate acts of the will the most useful and considerable are those of Resignation or submission to the Divine will.
2. Now, having in the second treatise spoken sufficiently
concerning the nature and qualities of Divine Love, I shall not
need to give particular instructions how to employ that inward
3. For though acts of pure melting love to God (in which all images of creatures, yea, all direct representations of God are excluded) be in themselves more perfect and unitive than are acts of Resignation, which involve in themselves images of external things (to wit, the special difficulties in which the soul intends to resign herself), notwithstanding, to recompense this disadvantage, there is in acts of Resignation far more security and less danger of propriety or self-interest than in acts of immediate love, which being apt to cause stirrings and pleasing motions in corporal nature, very few souls can practise them purely and without propriety, except they be exalted to a supreme degree of spiritual divine charity. Again, there is in Resignation exercised more directly true mortification and contradiction to self-love and interest than in any other kind of internal prayer, and consequently it is a prayer more purifying, and considering the daily and hourly use that we have thereof in unavoidable occurring difficulties, it is of all other the most profitable; and though acts of Resignation (which are also the immediate fruits of divine love) do involve in themselves images of external things, yet this is only in the beginning of the act, so that the soul doth not tarry in such images, but presently passes from and out of them into God.
4. Good Lord, what millions of questions, debates, and
perils doth total Resignation cut off! And this not only for
meum et tuum, or worldly propriety in a secular state, for the
regulating whereof there are such endless volumes of useless and
perplexed cases dispersed everywhere, but also in external
matters in a religious life, either with regard to superiors or among
5. Hence it follows that that soul which is resigned both for external and internal matters is not only freed from perils that may come from temptations or contradictions, but in a manner from all doubts, questions, and debates; whereas the unresigned soul is in a state wherein nothing can satisfy or secure her conscience.
6. A soul that is in the practice of the prayer of Resignation ought not to interrupt or omit the producing of acts conformable thereto, notwithstanding any failings or transgressings against good resolutions formerly made, if so be such failings proceed out of frailty or sudden passions (being then ofttimes more in sensuality than in the superior will, and so have less fault in them); for, notwithstanding such failings, resignations heartily made will not prove in vain, but in time will come to good issue.
7. In consideration of the eminent excellency of this duty of Resignation, I have adjoined several exercises of the acts of that virtue, exemplifying in all kinds of difficulties regarding either external or internal objects, touching outward goods, friends, &c., as likewise all accidents that may befall the body, as sickness, pains, want of conveniences or necessaries, &c.; and, lastly, touching the soul, as aridities, temptations, &c.; for the practising of which exercises, besides the advice given in the last chapter (which ought to be applied to this present purpose). I thought expedient to add certain more peculiar instructions hers following.
8. When the exercise of Resignation in prayer comes to be
the ordinary daily exercise of a soul, then she is established in
9. Concerning the matter of objects of Resignation (which are generally matters of difficulty and contradiction to nature), either they are: 1. such difficulties as are sure to happen; 2. or only probably (of which probably there may be several degrees); 3. or very unlikely, but yet possible; 4. or, lastly, altogether impossible. Now in all these Resignation may be profitably exercised. But the better the more likely that the things are to happen; and the best and most necessary Resignation of all is in things sure to befall us, and which belong to our state especially such against which our nature finds the greatest difficulty.
10. Now since these last do most frequently occur to our minds in our recollections, therefore we must be the more industrious and courageous to overcome them by framing internal acts of our judgment and will to entertain the said difficulties, that so we may be prepared against the time that they do really befall us.
11. Now, having made efficacious and prevalent acts of internal Resignation, if, when the said difficulties do de facto happen, we do truly and really accept and embrace them with our superior will (whatsoever repugnance we find in our sensitive nature), this will much more advance the soul in Divine Love, and increase the good habit of Resignation, than many bare internal acts would do, by which the soul doth only represent a difficulty in the imagination, resolving with the will to accept it.
12. In performing these acts internally, a soul must be very careful to exercise them with most profound humility, and a distrust of her own ability to resist any temptation or contradiction, and with an entire trust and dependence on God's grace, with a firm faith in Him that He will assist her at all times whensoever He shall bring such trials upon her.
13. For this reason I have frequently expressed the acts of
resignation either by way of oblation and delivery of the soul
14. The most perfect way of producing acts of Resignation (as likewise all other acts) is by intending purely the love of God and seeking His glory, renouncing all inferior unworthy interests of our own; and therefore Alphonsus, in his Method of Serving God, in his excellent chapter of Prayer, exhorts all devout souls, either expressly or virtually, to exercise prayer with this intention; but as for the exercise of Aspirations, an express and direct intention of God's glory will scarce consist with it, because that sublime exercise will not admit any reflected act to be mixed, though implicitly and virtually they contain as much or more.
15. A soul needs not always to oblige herself in her recollections, in order to go through the following patterns and forms of Resignation according to all the examples given, as she was advised to do in other immediate acts; but she may alter, interrupt, omit, or add others as she shall see cause, or according to her present need, or as they shall be interiorly suggested to her by God or her own thoughts.
16. In the beginning of the exercising this degree of prayer, I conceive it will be the best course for a soul to single out and make choice of such acts of resignation as do regard such daily occurring difficulties, to which nature hath less aversion to resign herself, and from these to ascend afterwards by degrees to matters of more difficulty, till at last, by God's grace, she be enabled to accept even those things which nature doth most abhor; for if she should suddenly adventure upon acts above her present strength and forces of mind she will be in danger to be dejected, finding that she wants internal courage to undertake or submit to such difficulties represented to her mind.
17. And, indeed, according to this method, God Himself in
His most wise and blesed providence deals with us, proportion-
18. When special occasions of actual and real Resignation do not occur, a soul may make general and indefinite acts of Resignation, regarding in gross all occasions whatsoever without exception, either according to the form practised by St. Ignatius: Deus meus et omnia, ecce me tibi penitus offero, et omnia mea tuae subjicio voluntati. Or saying, in our Lord's words, Non visa voluntus fiat, sed tua, Domine, in terra sicut in caelo (Amen, Jesu); or in any other form like to these. And this practice of universal Resignation may be begun very timely, and accordingly continued one's whole life; although, indeed, only perfect souls can purely, without reservation, exercise such acts. Yea, when a devout soul hath a particular occasion to resign herself in any special difficulty occurring, she may for that purpose make use of any such general form of Resignation, only reflecting internally upon the present occasion, and so applying the general form, without expressly naming the particular difficulty.
19. In exercising internally these acts, a soul is not to produce them overfast, and quick one upon another, to the hurt and oppression of the head or spirit, but quietly and leisurely one after another, with reasonable pausings.
20. Though in the following examples of Resignation mention
is only made of matters difficult and unpleasing to nature,
yet may a soul with benefit exercise herself in the clean
contrary; for example, as she may resign to sickness, pain, want,
dishonour, &c., so she may also, for the glory of God, resign herself
to health, pleasures, riches, honour, &c., intending, if God's
will be such, to accept of these also, and to employ them only to
His glory, and not to the satisfaction of corrupt nature, no'
diminishing but rather increasing humility and divine love by
them. In which case, how pleasing soever to nature such things
in themselves be, yet the Resignation is exercised with regard to
that which is mortifying to nature, as he that for the glory and
21. To conclude this matter, some souls there may be which will find it best for them to continue in acts of Resignation, yea, and perhaps even in the same acts, till they be thence brought to Aspirations; and others there will be whose exercises may consist of great variety both of acts and affections, and that confusedly both for matter and manner, and this either out of a book or from their own interior. And in the exercising of acts or affections, in some the said acts may be raised by a short reflection or by consideration of some motives, or even with a precedent light meditation. Lastly, some will find more relish in acts expressed in Latin, though they do but imperfectly understand the language, than in their own natural tongue (for whose sake I have in the following collection framed exercises in both languages); and all this manner of exercises are good, if the soul by experience and observation find profit by them, for by that alone must all our exercises be regulated.
22. But how perfect soever any acts or forced affections be, they must give way to aspirations whensoever a soul is invited or enabled to produce them; for as acts are the end of meditation, so are aspirations the proper end and fruit of acts, far more perfectly effecting and procuring that purity of soul and heavenly-mindedness to which we aspire by all our exercises.
CHAPTER IV.
§ 1. How internal exercises are to be practised in times improper and distractive.1. BEFORE I quit this present argument of the prayer of forced immediate acts of the will, to treat of the supreme degree of prayer, to wit, Aspirations, I conceive it requisite to consider how a devout person is to behave himself, who, having undertaken a religious contemplative life in solitude, repose, and vacancy to attend to God and His holy inspirations, but afterwards coming to find some change in that life, either: 1. by being distracted with unavoidable external employments and offices imposed for the good of the community, &c., from which all cannot be exempted; 2. or else incumbered with the incommodities and solicitudes of sickness, to which all are obnoxious (which are generally two states that seem most disadvantageous for retired prayer); I say my intention is to give the best advices I can how souls are to behave themselves in these two states, as with regard to their prayer. especially.
2. First, therefore, to the end that a well-meaning soul may
with purity behave herself about external offices and employments,
she is to consider: 1. That it is unlawful, contrary to humility,
and a sign of a weariness of internal ways, and of a sensual
desire to rule over others; yea, moreover, it is a wilful thrusting
one's self into dangerous distractions and temptations for any
one voluntarily to desire or seek such employments, dignities, or
3. For this reason it will behove every religious devout soul, by assiduous prayer during the time of vacancy, to furnish herself with light and discretion, that she may proceed in this matter with the spirit of humility, prudence, and religious perfection.
4. In case, therefore, that superiors shall think good to impose an office upon a religious subject: 1. If the subject know of any real incapacity or disability in himself, or if he believe any other more sufficiently qualified, he ought, with all humility and simplicity, to rectify the superior's mistaken opinion concerning his sufficiency; yea, he may represent unto him his just grounds of fear lest such an employment should prove notably prejudicial to his soul, protesting likewise that he does not desire any kind of preeminence over others, &c. 2. Yet if the superior, notwithstanding such humble and sincere remonstrances of the subject, shall persist in a resolution to impose on him any such office (whatsoever the superior's motive be, whether necessity, reason, or even passion), the subject must submit himself, and accept of it willingly, whatsoever reluctance there be in the imagination or nature against it; but let him accept it with a pure intention for God in the spirit of obedience, especially if the office be grateful to nature, or to the sensual or ambitious desires of it. 3. Notwithstanding, considering his own frailty, and the temptations likely to accompany such an employment, he ought to undertake it with some fear and apprehension, lest without extraordinary watchfulness in prayer he may come to be corrupted or oppressed by it.
5. In this regard, therefore, the subject ought oftentimes to
renew and rectify his intention about it, at least in his
recollections twice a day. For, for want of care in this point, it oft
falls out that the office which at first was undertaken out of
obedience to God and superiors, comes afterward to be executed
6. Indeed, so contrary and prejudicial to the spirit of contemplative prayer are the distractions and solicitudes which attend offices, that: 1. Religious subjects during the time of vacancy, when they are more illuminated, ought to forethink and imprint in their hearts good purposes never to offer themselves to such dangers; and when they shall befall them, to carry themselves in them vigilantly and prudently, according to their former light, lest, entering upon them unprovided, they should prove mischievous and destructive to all devotion. 2. And again, superiors, if they will consider that their principal care ought to be for the good of souls, will think it concerns them to be very nice in exposing to such perils their subjects before that the spirit of devotion and charity be firmly rooted in their hearts; for they also shall be accountable for the harm that their subjects' souls shall so incur.
7. Some superiors, either being of active spirits, and not knowing or not duly esteeming internal ways, or, perhaps, mistakingly believing their subjects to be more affected to external employments than interior, thereupon unwarily heap on them businesses to the hindrance of their recollections. In this case the subject ought to acquaint his superior with the inward disposition of his soul, how much good he finds by a constant exercise of prayer, and what damage the want of it causeth to his imperfect soul; but this being done, he must resolve to submit in case his superior still think fit to employ him.
8. In such circumstances, let not the subject be troubled if he finds it hard to abstain from showing some outward marks of unwillingness, however in his superior will he be resigned. For, indeed, to show cheerfulness argues in an imperfect soul rather a contentedness to be dispensed from prayer, not sufficiently esteemed by him, than a love to obedience; yea, such a seeming unwillingness will afford him a double mortification: 1. in that he contradicts sensuality in the discharge of obedience; 2. in that he incurs, in the opinion of others, an esteem of being immortified, the which will he a means to humble him.
9. When an internal liver is once actually and duly engaged in an office, in the first place he ought seriously to consider that, coming out of a state of abstraction and solitude into business, he will thenceforward walk in less light than formerly; and yet will be exposed to far greater perils by reason of many unavoidable occasions of distraction, impatience, satisfaction of sensuality, &c., of which he had little experience in time past; therefore he must resolve to keep a more watchful guard over himself; lest business bring him to a forgetfulness of his soul and of all former instructions and good purposes.
10. Secondly, to the end to secure himself from such perils, he must in the actual execution of business be wary that he do not fix his mind more intently and affectionately on them than mere necessity shall require. Let him oft call to mind his former good resolutions, and review again and again these or the like instructions, for without such preventions it can scarce be avoided but that he will decay in spirit and grow negligently tepid in his spiritual exercises; since corrupt nature will be very forward to take any colourable pretences of quitting internal recollections (the only support of a spiritual life), which now will become more irksome by reason of greater dissipation of thoughts, and more frequent occasions of falling into immortifications; and therefore souls will be apt to think that the nature of their present employment is such as that it will not consist with the obligations of an internal life. Then they will catch hold of any advantage to dispense with them, for that purpose making use of such popular sayings as this, that every good work is a prayer, &c.
11. Thirdly, more particularly in this state of active employments
a soul must be careful, as far as the office will permit, not
only to continue the practice of her former mortifications (and
principally for the tongue and senses), but also to make good use
of those many new mortifications which the discharge of her
employment will afford her occasions to exercise; and, indeed,
since probably she cannot enjoy that repose of spirit requisite
to serious and perfect recollections, she ought the best she can
to recompense that defect by increasing the practice of mortifi-
12 . Fourthly, she must remember that the doctrine of abstraction (most necessary in an internal life) has place also even in distractive offices, at least thus far, that the person is not to meddle in things that belong not to his present employment; and for such things as do belong thereto, he must be careful as to do them well and faithfully, so without bestowing on them more solicitude than shall necessarily be required, performing them seriously, but yet with composedness and tranquillity of mind, not suffering them to distract or encumber his memory before the time come for the executing of them, and then abstaining from passion and impetuousness, and from engaging his affections to them. A devout soul thus constantly discharging her office will come to that liberty, easiness, and settledness of spirit, that necessary employments will breed in her no harmful distractions (the cause of which is inordinate love to creatures).
13. But, fifthly and lastly, her principal care must be about her prayer. Although, by occasion of business, she cannot so habitually continue in a recollected state, yet at least she must resolve diligently and faithfully to pursue her daily appointed exercises, since prayer is the principal instrument by which divine light and grace against all temptation. is administered to us; so that if prayer be duly performed, be it with distractions or without them, it will both urge a soul to use fitting mortifications out of prayer, and to make advantage (toward the perfecting and advancing of her spirit) even of the distractions and encumbrances of her office; whereas, if she be careless in prayer, she will become careless also in mortification, and by little and little will lose all that which with great pain and travail she had formerly gotten, yea, and be in very great peril never to find a way to return to her former state.
14. Certainly, if any distractions or employments can justify
a soul for the neglect of this duty of internal prayer, those which
attend the Popedom (the highest, weightiest, and most incessantly
encumbering office that a soul is capable of) may do it.
Yet St. Bernard, in those excellent books of Consideration,
15. Hereupon Lewis of Granada will allow of no excuse, under pretence of business, to cease from pursuing daily recollections. For (saith he) no business can be so necessary and so continually urgent as to hinder our daily necessary refections. Now prayer, which is the food of the soul, is as necessary thereto, if not more so, than food to the body, and if it so fall out that businesses are to be despatched just at the hours appointed for daily spiritual refections, the person foreseeing that, ought to repair himself by taking some other vacant time for his prayer; and if that will not be allowed him, he may and ought, according to the judgment of Aquaviva, General of the Jesuits, to solicit his superior to give him some relaxation from such employments, which the superior is obliged to grant, otherwise God will require a severe account from him for the harm that must needs come to the subject's soul by the want of that which is only able to support the spirit, and to enable it with profit to discharge the most necessary duties of his calling.
16. If, either out of sloth, distractions, or remorse through
some imperfections incurred, a soul find difficulty to apply herself
any time to prayer, though she promise better for the future,
yet, if upon any motives of sensual nature she omit it at any
time, she will the day following have less mind to go to it, and
so be in danger quite to abandon her recollections. If she have
not the very same excuses and pretences that she had formerly,
nature will be subtle enough to invent some other, for the longer
she delays the more inapt will she be for it, according to that
wise saying of the ancient Rabbins, Qui protrudit horam, hora
protrudet ipsum, he that thrusts off the hour of doing any good
duty till another time, that hour, when it comes, will thrust off
and delay him; he will be less capable then of doing his duty
than he was formerly, by means of some new impediment;
whereas a soul, by using some violence upon herself to break
through discouragements to prayer, will get such courage and
17. To this purpose, Johannes a Jesu Maria, General of the discalced Carmelites, relates concerning a devout gentleman, a penitent of his, who daily used at a certain time to recollect himself in prayer, how that treating with another upon some affairs of consequence, and the clock happening to strike the hour appointed for his prayer, he abruptly broke off the conversation, excusing himself that he had then an affair of such importance that it could not be delayed and must not be omitted; and so dismissing his friend, he retired to his recollection, wherein God was pleased, in reward for his diligence and fidelity to Him, to visit him after an extraordinary manner with some kind of supernatural contemplation, such as he had never had experience of before.
18. A well-minded soul, therefore, to the end she may be enabled to attend to this business of businesses (as St. Bernard calls it), ought to employ all her providence and subtlety so to order all her daily employments both for the time and manner as that they may be no hindrance thereto. Let her, if need be, make notes and remembrances of her several affairs each day (to the end her memory may not betray her), and beginning the morning with a serious recollection (which will sanctify all the following day's work), let her endeavour to despatch her task with such care and diligence, that towards evening she may be beforehand with her task of businesses, that solicitudes about them may not disquiet her mind, encumber her memory, nor distract her prayer.
19. It is morally impossible that in a religious state there should be any employment that should so wholly (and this constantly) take up one's thoughts as not to leave one hour each day to be given to God. Or if such an employment were, it would be absolutely unlawful, as being destructive to the obligation of a Christian, and much more that of a spiritual or religious person; no excuse, therefore, or pretence can justify a customary neglect of so essential a duty.
20. In case that sometimes by reason of some pressing affairs
21. If a soul in employments cannot free her mind from distractions, aridities, and solicitudes in prayer, let her, however, be courageous to pursue it after the best manner she can, preserving as much resignation and tranquillity (at least in the superior soul) as maybe, and let the sight of such imperfections humble but not disquiet her spirit. Let her consider and believe that God is not only as present to her in spirit during her greatest desolations as He was in her clearest recollections, but as loving also, and that this is the proper season for a soul to show her fidelity to God in adhering to Him in the top of her spirit, when not only the interior senses are diverted by images of businesses, but the affections also disordered by solicitudes.
22. To this purpose she may apply the point of election mentioned by Father Benet Canfield, who, to the great comfort of well-meaning souls, shows that in the midst of the greatest troubles, afflictions, passions, and distractions, a soul may as truly and efficaciously dispose of the operations of the superior spirit (which depends not upon our corporal organs) by fixing them upon God, making choice of Him for her final end, and submitting herself with resignation and love to Him even for sending her such trials, as she could in her greatest solitude and most quiet introversion; and this is best done without any violence or impetuosity, but with great tranquillity darting a spiritual regard to God, by means of which she may be as truly and effectually united to God (though not according to sense) in the midst of these troubles as in her greatest sensible unions.
23. A soul that will be thus vigilant and industrious may
assure herself that God, who lays this office on her, doth it not
24. For want of this care and vigilance over their interior, it is to be feared there be many in religious convents that fruitlessly spend their lives in employments in some sort beneficial to others, but of little profit, yea, perhaps, very prejudicial to themselves; as some that read lessons of philosophy or divinity, yea, even many that pass their whole time almost in spiritual employments, as preaching, hearing confessions, giving spiritual directions, &c.; for these works being performed not in virtue of spiritual prayer, and consequently not proceeding from the Divine Spirit, but the spirit of corrupt nature (which is the source of all actions performed in a state of distraction), God's Spirit seldom gives a blessing to them.
CHAPTER V.
§§ 1, 2. How internal livers ought to behave themselves in time of sickness. The benefits of sickness to such only.1. THE second state (before mentioned) that requires a more than ordinary care and provision (as seeming less proper for internal exercises) is the state of sickness; which, though it do exact a greater solicitude and vigilance, as being a disposition to a condition irreversible, yet in itself it is a more secure state than that of external employments, inasmuch as those are such as are apt to draw our affections from God to sensual objects; whereas in sickness all things do rather drive a soul to seek and adhere unto God, since all other comforts do fail her, and all pleasures become distasteful to her. Moreover, in sickness there are continual occasions of high resignations, and far less solicitudes about temporal matters; for the chief business of a sick person is forbearing and holding of patience; in a word, it is rather a not doing than doing.
2. Now, since it concerns a soul most deeply to be well-disposed in sickness, my purpose is to give some general advices to souls already practised in internal ways, and they shall be such as chiefly have a reference to prayer and mortification; the which advices, notwithstanding, our sick person ought only so far to make use of as he finds them proper for his spirit and case.
3. It was not without just reason that an ancient holy man
said that a religious spiritual life is a continual meditation of
4. If, when sickness is come, a soul be to learn how she ought to behave herself, it will go hard with her, by reason that then such a soul will be in great blindness of understanding and deadness of will. All her thoughts and care will be employed in seeking to avoid pain, to pass away the tedious time, and to recover; and if any good thoughts come into her mind, it is fear that principally raises them; hence it is that serious conversion is seldom given in sickness, when passions do swell, and immortifications come thick upon one another; and a soul that in health hath neglected God and.despised the means of conversion, cannot with any reason or confidence expect an extraordinary or miraculous grace to work a sudden cordial conversion. If that one's whole life spent in painful mortifications and serious recollections be but even little enough to conquer the perverseness of our wills and the glueyness of our affections adhering to sensual objects, what may be expected from a few interrupted inefficacious prayers or purposes in sickness, suggested merely by fear upon the approaches of death and judgment, whilst there still remains in the heart a secret love to those sinful delights that must now be forsaken? Upon which grounds St. Jerome hath a terrible saying, that among those that defer their conversion till their death, scarce one of a hundred thousand is saved.
5. And I believe the case of such a soul in religion is more
perilous, because having enjoyed so great helps to a holy life,
she has with so unpardonable an ingratitude neglected them;
whereas a secular person, being touched in sickness, may resolve
to seek those means of abstraction of life, a renouncing of the
world, prayer, &c., the want of which was the principal cause
(it may be) of his deordinations. Upon which grounds alone
St. Bernard saith that he would give absolution presently to
the greatest sinner (in sickness) if he would promise (upon
supposition of recovery) to quit the world and embrace a penitential
life in religion, because it is not possible to promise or perform
6. Yet God forbid that from hence any should advisedly give way to despair, or deliberately refuse to humble themselves, to mortify their inordinate affections, or to pray the best they can. Good purposes and actions performed merely out of fear will produce some good effect, and God's goodness (which is incomprehensible) may change fear into love, how imperfect soever.
7. Now though the case of tepid livers be not altogether so miserable, yet it is infinitely perilous, and the issue extremely to be suspected; for though they cannot be charged with many great sins of commission, yet their whole life has been a continual omission of duties to which their profession did in a special manner oblige them, and now what other new motive can they have to relinquish their negligence but only fear also? Or what prayers are they likely to make, when their necessity is so great and the helps to prayer so small?
8. The only secure way, therefore, to prevent the incurring this hazardous state in sickness is, during health to combat against tepidity, and by diligent prayer to provide one's self of internal strength and grace; for such souls by a prosecution of their accustomed duties of mortification and prayer make good use of their sickness and gain extremely by it; they are not forward to promise great matters (as tepid souls usually do, though they perform but little); they have forethought of sickness, and the temptations accompanying it, and now call to mind and execute former resolutions made to improve for their soul's advancement, all states and conditions; and by occasion of their present corporal infirmity or pains to fortify in their minds the virtue of patience, resignation, contempt of the world, and adhesion to God, this sickness proves to them a greater blessing than health; and if they do recover, they do yet more seriously and fervently perform their former exercises.
9. When sickness is actually come, a soul is to accept and
10. A soul must not forbear this willing acceptation of sickness, &c., because perhaps she finds great resistance thereto in sensuality; yea, she ought therefore the rather to accept it, as knowing that it is the superior will and not the will of sensuality that meriteth or demeriteth; and so doing, the repugnance of sensuality will, as well as the sickness, turn to the merit and advancement of the soul
11. Now a soul must not content herself for once or twice to accept sickness, but she must practise this almost continually, and especially when any extraordinary pain or irksomeness does afflict her. And such acceptation must be not only for the present, but with a mind willingly to submit to the divine will, if His pleasure were that such pains should continue never so long.
12. She must particularly take heed of one notable temptation
which often befalls good but imperfect souls, by means of
which they yield too freely to impatience in sickness, which is
this: nature being soon weary of suffering, will suggest unto the
soul to justify impatience, among other incommodities of sickness
this one, that thereby she is put in an incapacity to pray,
or otherwise to serve God or her neighbour, upon which she
will be apt to desire health with impatience, falsely justifying
herself for such impatience, as if she did not so for the satisfaction
of nature, but to the end she may perform spiritual duties
more perfectly; but this is a mere delusion, for that is the
true and perfect way of serving God which is suitable to the
13. It is no great matter though the soul herself do not distinctly and clearly see how her present sufferings (external or internal) may be profitable to her; she is to refer all things to the infinite wisdom and goodness of God, who can bring light out of darkness; and therefore she must be contented (if such be His will) to be blindfolded, and humbly to remain in her simplicity, and in a reverential awe and admiration of the inscrutable ways of the divine providence.
14. A sick person is to account himself after an especial manner in God's hands as His prisoner, chained, as it were, by his own weakness, disabled from the ordinary solaces of conversation, walking, &c., debarred from eating what pleases the palate, become profitable to none, troublesome and chargeable to many, exposed ofttimes to bitter pains and sharper remedies of such pains, &c.; a grievous indeed, but yet a happy prison this is to a soul that will make a good use of it; for unless the internal taste of the soul also be depraved, she may by this occasion infinitely increase in spiritual liberty, health, and strength, by accepting with indifference these incommodities, and mortifying her natural exorbitant desire of remedies, not desiring to escape, but when and after what manner God shall ordain.
15. But to speak more particularly touching the duties of a soul during sickness, she is to assure herself of this one thing, whether she think that her sickness may justify her neglect of her spiritual exercises of mortification and prayer (the essential duties of an internal life); if these be not continued as well in sickness as health, the soul herself will become the more sick of the two, and exposed to greater danger than the body; for most certainly, if sickness do not produce good effects of patience and resignation, &c., in the soul, it will produce the quite contrary, and such effects cannot be produced but only by the exercise of mortification and prayer.
16. First, therefore, for mortification, this is indeed the proper time wherein it is most seasonable and necessary. Store of matter for that virtue is almost incessantly afforded; pains, weakness, &c., in the body, and grief, fear, and other disquieting passions in the mind, which are oft more insupportable than outward torments; all these temptations the soul must be armed against.
17. Now among all internal temptations, the greatest and most painful is fear of death, and especially of the consequences of it--judgment and hell--without which, death to a faithful Christian could not rationally be object of fear, as he that knows it to be the universal inheritance of mankind, and to Christians the door of eternal happiness. In case, therefore, that such fear of death do remain in inferior nature, the superior reason ought to contradict it and use it as a subject of a very healthful mortification.
18. But as for the other far more considerable, more inward and painful subject of fear-which is the uncertainty of a future eternal condition after death, which doth usually much afflict and deject imperfect souls that are conscious of their manifold defects, small satisfaction paid for them, great weakness of divine love (a proof whereof is this very fear, which would be expelled if charity were perfect)--it is a hard matter to encourage such souls against it, or to persuade them to mortify it and resign themselves willingly to support it, it being indeed very profitable and healthful to the soul: On the contrary, they think resignation in this case to be scarce a fitting or lawful thing, though most certainly it is so.
19. I do not say that such souls ought to bring themselves
to an indifference what way they shall be disposed of after death.
But the point of resignation lies in this, that a soul ought to
content herself not to know how and in what manner God will
dispose of her after death. Her anchor is hope, which she ought
to cherish and fortify all she can, and the best way for souls to
fortify that is to make as few reflections on themselves as may
be, and to employ all their thoughts and affections directly upon
God. It is divine love alone that is at least the principal virtue
20. Let the afflicted soul, therefore, herein as in all other matters, not only with patience support such an ignorance, but with an amorous resignation congratulate with God His eternal most secret purposes and decrees concerning her, both for time and eternity, freely consenting and agreeing to the will of God that such secrets should be reserved to His own breast, hidden from our knowledge, therein acknowledging His divine wisdom and goodness, which moved Him (doubtless for our good) to conceal from us those things, the knowledge of which would have bred security, negligence, and perhaps pride, in our corrupt hearts. Let her desire be to know nothing, and to have nothing but what, when, and in what manner it, doth please Almighty God.
21. Such behaviour of hers towards her Creator and Redeemer (to whom she belongs both for her being and manner of it), as it is most just and reasonable, so it will make her most acceptable to God, and in conclusion, most assuredly bring her to happiness; whereas to be dejected and disquieted because God will not reveal His secret purposes to her is most unreasonable, and can proceed from no other ground but natural pride and self-love. And to give a deliberate scope to unquietness so grounded is both dishonourable to God and utterly useless to the soul herself; for assuredly God will not, to satisfy the inordinate desires of nature, alter the course of His divine providence.
22. It did not hinder or abate the tranquillity of Adam's
23. Let the soul withal consider that He which bath denied unto her an assurance and forbidden her to presume, hath yet commanded her to hope, and to comfort herself in that hope. Let her therefore frequently and seriously exercise acts of hope (how little gust soever sensuality finds in them; for the greater repugnance there is in inferior nature, the more generous are such acts and more acceptable to God), which acts are to be grounded not upon any conceits of our own innocency or worth; for if the soul were never so perfect, yet a conceit of her own innocency would be but a rotten foundation of hope, which should regard only the free mercies of God, the merits of His Son, &c.
24. Moreover, let her exercise these acts, not as acts of her own will, but (far more perfectly and divinely) as acts of God's own will, who hath commanded us thus to hope. She may withal, if need be, make use of considerations and motives in the understanding, by reading or hearing comfortable promises in Scripture, &c., to incline the will to conform itself to the divine will; to which conformity when a soul shall once perfectly be brought, there remains to her no hell nor purgatory, no more, than to God Himself; for where there is no propriety of will there is nothing but the divine will, which is God Himself, and according to the measure of this conformity such will be the measure of our happiness.
25. As for other internal pains and anguishes arising from
other grounds, as scrupulosities about confessions, &c.: the
instructions formerly delivered in the second treatise are to be
made use of, especially those of submitting absolutely to the
advice of a spiritual director, and of transcending all imaginations
and all risings in inferior nature; and surely now, above all
other times, the soul is to be careful not to yield to the suggestions
of fear, which is the only temptation left by which the
devil can disquiet tender souls (to whom now pleasures and
26. And as concerning temptations to infidelity, despair, &c., besides what has been already said, I will only add these two advices: l . that the soul be sure to avoid all inventing of reasons or disputes to oppose the temptations; 2. to turn the mind neglectingly from the said temptations, and to fix it with resignation and confidence on God. These, indeed, are the only proper remedies for souls, especially those that walk in internal ways, for these require no study nor subtlety of wit to encounter the enemy, who is able to entangle even the most learned that in confidence of their abilities dare contest with him; and yet these remedies are sufficient to quench. even his most fiery darts. And, moreover, this one expedient of turning the mind from all objects but God, and adhering to Him, is an universal remedy, always ready at hand, being the usual exercise of those souls for whom these instructions were principally written.
27. To this purpose Cardinal Bellarmine (in his book De Arte
bene Moriendi) from Barocius, Bishop of Padua, relates a sad
story of two doctors in that university, famous for scholastic
controversy, the one whereof, after his death, did (according to
a mutual agreement formerly made) appear to his friend after a
most affrightening manner, all burning in flames, giving this
account of the causes that brought him to that woful condition.
`A little before my expiring' (said he) `the devil suggested to
me doubts and arguments against the Divinity of our Lord, the
which I, out of confidence in my own abilities, undertaking to
resolve, found myself so pressed with new replies that in the
end, being quite overcome, I renounced the Catholic doctrine of
the Church, and assented to the Arian heresy, and in that state
(a just judgment for my pride) I expired, so receiving this reward
of heresy.' The living companion, astonished with this
relation, revealed the case to some pious friends from whom he
received advices directly conformable to these here before delivered;
and thereupon spending the remainder of his time more
in prayer and penance than study, and not long after approach-
28. In the next place, as touching mortification to be practised about external things, it is a duty so necessary in all states, that it belongs as well to the infirmary as the refectory; for in all manner of things and occurrences in this life there lies a snare to be avoided, and an enemy to be combated; so that whosoever out of slothfulness shall forbear to continue the practice of mortification, will the next day be more averted from it, nature getting strength against the spirit.
29. Inasmuch, therefore, as sickness is a temptation and a snare, it is by consequence (well used) an occasion of victory against impatience and self-love, and of advancement in spiritual perfection.
30. More particularly the exercises of mortification proper in the time of sickness are: 1. not to be drawn by the pains and incommodities of it to impatience; 2. not to yield to an immoderate satisfaction of nature, when it suggests a desire either of seeking improper or unlawful remedies, or when pleasing nourishment, refreshment, &c., are offered to us; 3. to take heed of spiritual sloth, and neglect of our devotion to God (of which we will speak when we treat of the duty of prayer).
31. As concerning the mortification of impatience, by
restraining the tongue from breaking out into complaints or
murmurings, and the mind from yielding to melancholy and
discontent, enough hath been said in the second treatise, which
may easily be applied to the present subject of sickness. I will
therefore only add these two advices: 1. That the infirm person
would consider that impatience in sickness is not only harmful
to the soul, but likewise to the body too; as, on the contrary,
32. Next, touching the mortification and moderation of the sensual appetite to be practised in sickness. In the first place, it cannot be denied that it is lawful and fitting for a sick person to desire and seek remedies proper in that case. Yet this is to be done without too much solicitude and disquietness of mind; and in case such remedies cannot be had, a contented submission of mind in the want or refusal of them is of admirable virtue to advance the soul; since necessity declares such a want to be the will of God, and this for the soul's greater good. A most perfect example hereof we have in our Lord, who, among the other insupportable torments of the cross, was most grievously afflicted with thirst, in which case He demanded refreshment, but all assuagement being denied Him, yea, gall being presented to Him to inflame His thirst, He complained not at all.
33. In the second place, it is to be considered that though
the same manner of exercising temperance by repressing sensuality
in the interior disposition of the soul be alike to be practised
in health and sickness, yet there is a difference as in regard
of the matters about which such temperance is to be exercised;
for those meats and solaces which would misbecome a spiritual
person in health may be very allowable and expedient in sickness;
only care ought to be had that the yielding to some reasonable
pleasure and recreation of the senses may be, by the
direction of the spirit, according to spiritual discretion, for the
good of the spirit, so as not to hinder internal exercises of the
soul, and because such is God's will. And not that an undue
liberty should be allowed upon the pretence of sickness to give
the reins to sensual appetite, so as to make the state of sickness
34. Notwithstanding, there is beyond this a perfection to be recommended to the imitation of such internal livers whose grace and fervour have rendered them in a capacity of aspiring to it, the which the same St. Bernard bath both by his instructions and admirable example delivered. Hippocrates, saith he, doth teach to save lives in this world, but Christ and His apostles do teach to lose lives: he that will save his life shall lose it. Now which of these two masters do ye choose to follow? Truly that religious man plainly shows whom he chooses for his master, who saith, this meat is ill for the eyes, that for the head, the other for the stomach, &c. Now such niceness as this our Holy Father so earnestly protests against, as almost to deny the use of physic to be lawful, the only proper medicinal remedy for religious persons being abstinence; yea, it is observed that he purposely made choice of unwholesome places to build his monasteries in, as being desirous that his religious should rather be infirm than robust.
35. However, in the choice and use of diet or physic every
one must follow that divine light of discretion which God gives
them, always avoiding superfluities, and sometimes contenting
themselves with the want even of necessaries. They must account
themselves obliged to continue the practice of the same
internal duties, though after another manner, increasing the
mortification of the will (which is a mortification far more pure
and perfect), though they be forced to allow a little more to the
body; their minds are to be set upon the benefits which sickness
brings with it, and to use all endeavours to possess themselves
of them; considering: 1. that they have a continual
occasion of exercising patience and resignation (the greatest
blessings that a soul is capable of); 2. that they have oppor-
36. Thaulerus hath a saying, that the condition of the dearest and most perfect servants of God is to have their souls full of the divine love and their bodies full of pains, and that when they feel no pain or other afflictions, they greatly apprehend lest God have forgotten them; but their comfort returns when God visits them with any corporal or worldly afflictions; then they even feel that it stands well with them, for then they are in a state that of all other doth best dispose for the divine union.
37. The sufferings of our Lord are never as perfectly understood by reading or meditation, as when devout souls themselves taste of the like; then they see and comfortably taste His love to them. If their pains be supportable, they do invite them to unite themselves to God by express acts of resignation; but if they be so excessive that they become incapable of making express formal prayers, then the very suffering of those pains with patience and peace of mind is a most sublime and efficacious prayer. Then is the proper season for those (gemitus inenarrabiles) those groans which cannot be uttered, which, as St. Paul saith, the Holy Spirit suggests to suffering, humble, and devout souls.
38. And here, by the way, I would recommend to those
charitable persons that do attend on the sick, a care to behave
themselves as becomes them in those mortifications that attend
such an office; that they would bear with the passionate humours
of their patients, and not judge them for small excesses; that
they would freely and charitably administer what shall be requisite
to their present state, being assured that God will never be
wanting to those that have left all for Him, and now depend
only upon Him; He will rather enrich them more for their
charity than suffer them to be endangered by it. It may be it
39. But above all things a devout soul ought to judge that God hath sent her the most profitable trial of sickness, not to the end to discharge her of her daily recollections, but rather that she may pursue them after a more efficacious manner. Probably she will not be able to observe exactly her former appointed times of prayer, as also through disturbance of humours and spirits she will find great distractions; yet, if lifting up her spirit as well as she can, she offer both her pains and distractions to God, and withal, if in times out of prayer, she be watchful over herself not to give way either to the inordinate appetites or impatience of nature, but to be in a continual state of resignation, she will have little reason to complain of the imperfections of her prayer.
40. A soul can have no excuse for neglecting this most necessary duty of prayer, the times of which may more securely be observed in sickness than in health; for who would trouble or interrupt such an one against his will, or who would not permit him to be alone or to rest whensoever he has no mind to continue conversation l However, if the devout soul should stand in need, she may and ought to use all lawful foresight, industry, excuses, and sleights that may be, to prevent the being hindered or interrupted.
41. Now because physic, inwardly taken, does much encumber
the stomach and indispose for prayer, therefore I would
advise the sick person: 1. not to be forward to seek or accept
of all receipts that friends and visitants are apt to prescribe;
2. when he is to take physic (whether in the morning or evening)
so to order his times as not to take it till he have performed
his recollection; 3. not to receive physic, no, nor repasts, often
or more thau shall be necessary; not too much neglecting the
body, but yet being careful rather to attend to the necessities of
the spirit. Let our patient therefore stoutly resist the invita-
42. It will be exceeding difficult during pain or any great infirmity to use discoursive meditation; the exercise of acts of the will (and much more, of aspirations) is a far more proper prayer in such a case. Therefore it is good even for those who are not yet so fully ripe for the exercise of acts as to make them their constant exercise, yet to use them sometimes in time of health, to the end that if they be overtaken with sickness, they may not be to seek for their exercise.
43. Among express voluntary acts the exercise of total resignation is the most perfect, and generally the most profitable; yet a soul in sickness, if she find herself indisposed for such acts, may content herself with acts of an inferior nature, yea, with devotions to any particular saints, to her angel guardian, and specially to our blessed Lady.
44. Those that are only infirm and languishing are (forasmuch as concerns the nature of their prayer) in a case little different from that they were in during health. Those whose. sufferings are from outward pain merely, with out sickness, may happen to have their prayer altered to the better by means of such pains, which themselves may prove a very profitable prayer, if the patient, with quietness and submission to the divine will, do offer such pains continually to God.
45. But as for sicknesses more inward, they do more indie
pose the patient to prayer, besides the great distractions that come
from physic, blood-letting, diet, &c., so that none can prescribe
any certain advices. The well-meaning soul therefore must,
and with a moderate attention may, herself observe all circumstances,
and, accordingly, for the manner practise both mortification
and prayer. She will easily discern at what times, how
long, and in what manner she ought to pray, as likewise wherein
she is to mortify herself, and how far she may yield to the
desires and necessities of nature. The truth is, the cases not only
46. I said before that the universal remedy against all inward temptations was actual prayer and conversion of the soul to God, which remedy is good for all souls in what state soever; but more proper for such as practise internal contemplative exercises (who are not now in a disposition to invent motives and arguments to contradict such temptations), but most necessary for the fearful and scrupulous. Notwithstanding, I would not oblige all imperfect souls, upon every thought of a temptation, to recur always to their prayer, but only when necessity and a just fear of being overcome shall require it. Otherwise, being in no such fear, they niay content themselves with some intermitted elevations of their minds to God, deferring tneir prayer till their next appointed recollection; for it would be too great a burden imposed on such souls as without some difficulty cannot enter into serious introversion, to bind them hereto upon every assault of an inward temptation, when a moderate care not to yield to the temptation will suffice.
47. God seldom sends great sicknesses to spiritual persons in the beginning of their course, before they have gotten a reasonable habitude of prayer to make good use thereof, lest thereby they should become disabled to pray; but after such an habitude gotten, if sickness come, it will advance their prayer; and as their bodily strength decays, their prayer proportionably will grow more easy, profound, and spiritual; but it is to be doubted that the prayer of meditation will be little bettered by sickness.
48. I will conclude this point of sickness with proposing one
special consideration, which ought to induce souls to be careful
that they do not deliberately turn sickness into a liberty of sense
or spirit, by omitting or neglecting prayer and mortification; and
CHAPTER VI.
§ 1. Internal exercises weaken the body, yet oft prolong life.
1. INTERNAL prayer, seriously prosecuted (as it deserves to
be), being contrary to our natural inclinations, cannot choose but
cause some trouble and uneasiness to nature, and abate the
vigorousness of the body, quenching those spirits and draining
those humours which are superfluous and afford matter of temptations;
yet, on the other side, it makes amends, even to nature
itself, in contributing much to the prolonging of life by means
of moderation of diet, a composedness of passions, and contentedness
of mind, &c., which it causeth. Proofs whereof we have
Z. However, if it were otherwise, the soul is not to serve the body, but the body the soul; so that if one of them must, for the benefit of the other, be a loser, it is most just that the loss should lie on the body's side. And, surely, since there is scarce any study or exercise of mind which does not abridge life or debilitate the functions of it, without making any amends to the soul for the future life--and yet for all that men are neither discouraged, nor do think it fit for such considerations to forbear such studies--much less certainly ought spiritual and divine exercises to be laid aside upon such pretences.
3. Notwithstanding, just it is that some due regard be had to the body, that it be not too much prejudiced by the exercises of the spirit, performed with overmuch violence and impetuosity, and this not so much for the body's sake as the spirit's, which, since in this life it cannot work without the body, by too violent workings it may so weaken the body as that it will not be enabled for continuance; and so those little short gains which are got by a few impetuous exercises will be dearly bought by an incapacity of continuing them, contracted in both soul and body. We must neither stretch our understandings to high seekings, lest we be plunged thereby in internal darkness, from which would proceed intolerable perplexities; neither must we force the affections even to good objects too much, nor suffer them to flow with too violent a stream; nor, lastly, must we exhaust bodily strength by unnecessary external austerities.
4. As for the painfulness, troubles, and uneasiness to nature,
that without too much debility doth accompany spiritual exercises,
those may well enough be digested, considering the unspeakable
benefits and service that they produce unto the soul.
And yet for our comfort this uneasiness will, by custom and
constancy, continually diminish; for, as Harphius observes, a
soul after long practice of elevations of spirit will come to such
a facility in them, that they will become as it were natural to
her. And herein we may observe the wonderful wisdom and
5. Now the peculiar virtue by which all harmful inconveniences either to the body or spirit may be avoided; is that supernatural discretion by which a soul is enabled to hold a mean, and avoid the vicious extremes in the practising of all spiritual duties. It is justly called a supernatural virtue, because God only can bestow it (for all the wit and philosophy in the world are but mere folly and blindness in these matters); and this He does principally by the means of prayer, with the use of requisite abstraction and attandance to His divine inspirations, whereby we shall receive a celestial habitual ligbt to direct us in all things suitably to our own particular dispositions and abilities, for no one man can in all matters be a rule unto another.
6. Now, as touching a particular application of this supernatural discretion to the exercises of an internal life, much hath already been set down dispersedly in these treatises. I will, therefore, only point at some few considerations which, in the practice of the several duties of a contemplative life, do regard this mistress of all virtues, discretion, which surely deserves above all other to be purposely and by itself treated of, inasmuch as without it all other virtues are imprudent, that is, not virtues at all.
7. First, therefore, in regard of the duty of mortification (I speak now only of necessary mortifications, of which kind all are to be esteemed that come from God, either immediately or by means of others, especially superiors). A soul is to esteem those mortifications which a superior, beyond the rule, shall voluntarily impose upon the subject, to be to the subject himself necessary, however voluntary to the superior.
8. Now superiors ought rarely to impose such kind of mortifications on their subjects, because so many circumstances are required to make them well imposed, that a great measure of illumination from God is requisite for those that practise the imposing of them. For, 1. The superior must evidently see that the subject in probability will make good use of them. 2. And that though they may do the subject good some one way, yet they will not harm him more another. 3. He must take heed that others be not scandalised thereby.
9. The like circumstances are to be observed by a particular person that would voluntarily assume mortification, for want of which point of discretion Harphius saith: That such kind of strange, odd, and uncouth mortifications as are imposed and practised in some communities ought not to be voluntarily assumed, as if with a design therefore to be despised by another.
10. The author of the Abridgment of Perfection justly imputes indiscretion to those who will never give rest to nature, but will always have some cross or other (exterior or interior) by which to mortify nature; for (saith he) the highest perfection is not to desire to be always suffering, but to be content to suffer all that by God's providence shall befall us, which contentment is taken away by that continual anxiety which those most suffer that will needs be always upon the rack.
11. In like manner Harphius taxes those that think themselves
ready for afflictions, and complain that they want occasions
to exercise their resignation; for says he to such an one:
Thou deceivest thyself by pride; God does see that as yet thou
art not indeed ready and strong enough for extraordinary trials;
for if He did, He would not fail to furnish thee with occasions.
He will send an angel from heaven on purpose to exercise a soul,
rather than she would want mortifications for her good. Therefore,
let souls never be solicitous, nor set themselves to devise
or procure mortifications, as if they thought God had forgotten
them. Notable examples of this providence of God may be seen
in the life of Thaulerus, where, likewise, we read how God
reprehended the layman that converted Thaulerus, in his sleep, for
certain assumed voluntary corporal austerities. To this purpose,
12. Let a soul, therefore, seriously practise that mortification of mortifications, which is pure internal prayer, and with it join a diligent good use of those mortifications attending her state of life, or sent her otherwise from God, not omitting those most efficacious internal mortifications by acts of humiliation and annihilation of herself; and so doing, she will have little reason to complain of want of exercise of this virtue. For corporal austerities do not by the excess of them, but by the fitness and proportion to the soul's present disposition, perfectionate an internal liver; so that some infirm but sincerely affected persons do advance themselves more by ordinary and trifling mortifications than others that consume their strength and spirits with intolerable fastings, chains, disciplines, &c.; for, as Cassian says (in the preface to his Institutions), Si rationabilis possibilium mensura servetur, eadem observantiae perfectio est etiam in impari facultate; that is, If a reasonable discreet measure of austerities, that ordinarily are not above our power, be observed; there will be the same perfection of observance where the external abilities are unequal.
13. In the next place, there is great use of discretion in sensible devotion, by which, saith Harphius, some souls are so far carried away, so besotted with self-love and self-will in the use of it, that no advice from the most experienced will avail to moderate them, till it be too late to amend, and till they find themselves unable to support any serious application to exercises of the spirit. Nevertheless, saith he, having thus by their indiscretion brought on themselves this inconvenience, they may for all that merit much, if with humility, patience, and resignation they will accept of such their infirmity.
14. We ought, therefore, much rather to mortify such sen-
15. All the merit that is in sensible devotion consists in the concurrence of the superior will to those acts, without which it will not help to raise the soul out of her natural state. Yea, the more she is visited and even bathed in such sensible consolations (except she use mortification about them, and be wary not to rest in them, but turn them to the producing of more efficacious acts in the superior will), the more strong will she grow in self-love, and more defiled with a kind of spiritual lust. Unless souls, therefore, do grow more humble thereby, it is a sign of danger to be perverted by it, and quite to lose the end for which God gave it.
16. Yet souls during their imperfect state are not violently to strain themselves to work purely in spirit, but moderately to use sensible devotion when God sends it as a means to advance them in spirit. Neither ought they, on the other side, to be so carried away with a liking and gluttonous affection to it (which indeed affords delicacies more agreeable to nature than any sensible satisfactions) as for it to omit other duties belonging to their state, and which God would have them to do.
17. Thirdly, as touching the exercise of meditation, how far discretion is to be used in it hath been sufficiently declared when we treated of it. Indeed, souls during that exercise are to he directed rather by the discretion of others than their own, and this both in judging whether they be fit for it, how long they are to continue in it (the rule whereof must not be custom but experience of profit), and what proportion of time they are to allow unto the understanding and will to operate in it; for that exercise doth not afford supernatural light enough to enable a soul to be her own guide.
18. Fourthly, forasmuch as concerns the exercise of immediate
acts of the will, a soul that out of ripeness got by sufficient
practice of meditation is arrived thereto, will have light and
discretion sufficient to judge what acts are most proper for her,
19. A principal point of discretion in this exercise is not to be carried away with the examples of some saints in former times, who could remain almost continually in some mental actuation to God, without giving way to an extravagant thought, by which means they were almost continually in internal combatings. An indiscreet imitation of such examples, as likewise a too violent producing of acts upon one another, would so oppress ordinary spirits, that it would put them into an incapacity of ever being able to pray for the future.
20. They who do not use set recollections may and ought frequently to force themselves to interior acts towards God; yea, as oft as they please, not much regarding the season of the day, as whether it be after refection or before sleep. And when they have done all, their progress will be but small for want of more prolonged and continued exercises.
21. Lastly, discretion and mortification likewise are to be used also even in those exercises to which we are invited and enabled by God Himself; such are the exercises of aspirations and elevations of the spirit. The usual times, therefore, of set recollections are to be expected; for they do so weaken and consume corporal nature, that if souls should give way unto them as oft as they think themselves enabled (which is indeed almost continually, so perfectly are they disposed to God) they would utterly disable themselves to do any service to God for the future.
22. To this purpose Harphius relates an account that one
brother Roger, a devout Franciscan, gave of himself, saying
that a hundred times in a Matins he was in spirit drawn upward
to a more high knowledge of divine secrets; all which
tracts he forcibly resisted, being assured that if he had given
his soul free scope to fix the eye of the understanding upon
those objects so represented to him, he should have been so
plunged in the abyss of the divine incomprehensibility, and so
wholly driven out of himself, that he should never have been
23. The same Harphius describes the state of some other souls (not so sublimely elevated) who yet are so languishing in their love to God, and in such an impatient ardour and thirst atfer Him, that it makes the body to faint and quite wither away, and therefore he calls them Martyrs of Love. Now, by this languishing love, I conceive, is understood a love much in sensuality (though the object thereof be God), and it is exercised about the heart much after the same manner that a violent but chaste love is oft exercised between absent persons of different sexes, so that I take it to be the highest degree of sensible devotion. Now, though Harphius says that such Martyrs of Love, dying corporally through the extremity of passion, do immediately pass into heaven, having been already purified in the purgatory and fire of love; notwithstanding, although no doubt such souls die in a most secure estate, yet it may be they will not escape some degree of purgatory for their indiscreet yielding to the impulses of nature in the exercising of this love, which, though truly divine, is yet far less perfect than that pure love which in perfect contemplation is exercised in the intellectual soul, without any sensible change or redundance of the body; for the tree of love is in no sort to be plucked up by the roots, as long as there is any hope that it may be in a disposition or capacity to bring forth more fruit.
CHAPTER VII.
[N.B. The instructions contained in this chapter are to be received with the utmost caution; and let the note which is inserted in § 2 be attended to.--J. N. S.]1. BEFORE we proceed to the supreme degree of prayer, which is pure contemplation, it may be convenient, as it is also pertinent enough, to insert here as an appendix to these instructions, concerning the prayer of forced acts of the will, a certain exercise of internal prayer pertainilig to this same degree, though in regard of the soul's behaviour much differing. It is a prayer of internal silence, quietness, and repose, in which there is no meditation at all, any acts of the will expressly and directly framed, being rather a kind of virtual and habitual attention to God than a formal and direct tendence to Him; yet is this a far inferior degree of prayer than is that prayer of quietness, which St. Teresa speaks of and experienced; which was, indeed, supernatural contemplation.
2. The first that published a treatise purposely of this kind of prayer was Antonio de Rojas, a devout Spanish priest and doctor, in a book called the Life of the Spirit approved, with large eulogies, by no less than nine eminent doctors, bishops, or inquisitors, so that there can be no reasonable grounds to doubt of the lawfulness, convenience, and security of it; it hath, moreover, been translated and published in French, and recommended by several other doctors.*
3. Now the order that the author advises a devout soul to
6
4. In the first place for preparation: 1. The soul is to
examine and purify her conscience with a prudent, diligent
search. 2. She is to endeavour seriously and cordially to make
an act of contrition for her sins, from a consideration of God's
goodness, love, and mercy, &c. 3. She is to frame an act of
pure and entire resignation of herself into God's hands, with
reference to the present exercise of a silent recollection,
determining to perform it purely for God's glory, renouncing all
inferior private interests and contentments, &c. 4. She may (if
need be) meditate a little upon one of the mysteries concerning
the Incarnation and Passion, &c., of our Lord; also mixing cer-
5. In consequence to these preparations (in which she is to
continue till she find herself disposed to quit all such express
and direct acts or affections, and having an implicit assurance
by a bare and obscure faith that God, who is incomprehensible
universal goodness, is indeed present to and in her), all that
remains for her then to do is, with all humility and love, to
continue in His presence in the quality of a petitioner, but such an
one as makes no special direct requests, but contents herself to
appear before Him with all her wants and necessities, best, and
6. In this state the soul behaves herself much after the
manner of an humble, faithful, and loving subject, that out of
duty and with most entire affection and respect approaches to
7. If during this silence the soul find any aridity, obscurity,
or insensibleness in inferior nature, &c., those things do not
interrupt her persevering in her silence and virtual exercise of
faith, oblation, and resignation, joined with a quiet attention to
His will and inspirations; yet if, indeed, she should forget herself,
and that either wandering thoughts or sensual affections
should press upon her and divert her attention from God (which
can scarce be whilst she is vigilant to expel all images whatsoever
that may cause her to break her internal silence), she can easily
recover the said silent attention, by renewing (if need be) a short
express act of faith of the divine presence, &c.
8. In this attention to God, she is far from expecting any extraordinary illuminations, favours, or visits, of which she accounts herself utterly unworthy.
9. Lastly, she has no suspicion or fear lest such a respectful silence should be mere idleness or cessation, for she knows it to be the effect of love and respect; and since an intellectual soul is all activity, so that it cannot continue a moment without some desires, the soul then rejecting all desires towards created objects, she cannot choose but tend inwardly in her affections to God, for which end only she put herself in such a posture of prayer; her tendence then being much like that of the mounting of an eagle after a precedent vigorous springing motion and extension of her wings, which ceasing, in virtue thereof the flight is continued for a good space with a great swiftness, but withal with great stillness, quietness, and ease, without any waving of the wings at all or the least force used in any member, being in as much ease and stillness as if she were reposing in her nest.
10. This seems to me to be in sum the fashion of that internal prayer of silence recommended by Rojas, which, without any variation, he would have exercised daily, morning and evening, allowing to each recollection about an hour.
11. Now the advantages that he (not without grounds of
reason) attributes to it are: 1. That it causes far more profound
recollections than any other kind of set internal prayer; because
a soul having, either by a short discourse or exercise of faith,
oblation, &c., found Him who is the centre of her repose, she
then leaves all the rooms and apartments of sense (both external
and internal) void and empty, and passes forward to those of
the spirit, which are pure, clear, and secure. 2. It doth extremely
abate the activity both of the imagination and passions,
neither of which doth it suffer to stir at all. 3. God is most
perfectly contemplated in it, being apprehended simply and
truly by faith in the superior spirit. For as long as there are
discourses in the understanding, images permitted to rest in the
fancy, and sensible motions of tenderness in the heart, there God
is not perfectly and entirely the object of such operations. In
12. To these benefits may be added this (which is a great
one, and fruitful in many blessings), to wit, that in this exercise
all divine virtues are in a very sublime manner exercised; viz.
1. Faith, by which the soul, quitting all discourse and doubting,
believes and even perceives the divine presence, by which she
conquers the world, exalting herself so much above all created
things that they are out of her sight. 2. Hope, because the
soul, placing herself before God in the posture of a beggar,
confidently expects that He will impart to her both the knowledge
of His will and ability to fulfil it. 3 Love, because the soul
resolutely affects nothing but correspondence to the divine love.
4. Resignation, since the soul forgets all private interests, has
nothing at all to ask, neither repose nor business, but only
whatsoever God would have her to enjoy, do, or suffer. 5.
Patience, because herein the soul must expect to suffer many
aridities, desolations, obscurities, incumbrances of thoughts,
temptations, and other internal afflictions; whence it is that
Thaulerus gives unto an exercise, much resembling this, the
name of the afflicting exercise. 6. Purity, for the soul is hereby
separated from all adhesion to creatures, being united to
God only. 7. Mortification, of which here is the very quintessence,
for when the soul acts in, spirit only, then the flesh
becomes insipid and without taste, saith St. Gregory. The flesh
with all its desires is here slain, as it were, and buried out of
13. This is an exercise fit for all sorts almost, and all dispositions of souls. Learning is but a small furtherance, neither need it be any hindrance to it; it excludes no other kind of prayer, exercise, or devotion, for any kind of prayer may be used as a preparation to find God in the spirit; and that being once done, the soul is to chase away all objects that are not God, that she may be united to Him alone, knowing Him most perfectly by ignorance; approaching to Him by resting and forbearing all motion, and conversing with Him most comfortably and profitably by silence. By this holy idleness in pure recollective prayer the soul attains to a clear and most comfortable experience of that which is obscurely apprehended by faith, and cannot be known by discourse. This is that (mors angelorum) death of angels (that St. Bernard desired), by virtue of which they regard not, neither live in themselves (as the apostate angels did), but in God only, and God in them. There is no other act of the understanding exercised in this, but that only which is the most perfect, to wit, simple intelligence, which is incapable of error, and the will seeks nothing, desires nothing, but enjoys all.
14. Now as touching the forementioned preparations, souls
ought not to think themselves obliged to make use always of
15. Now whereas the author commends this exercise, both the perfect and imperfect, confidently affirming that any one may securely begin with it, even at the first entrance into a spiritual course, as many have done with great and speedy profit, I conceive that in such a case there will be need of more than ordinary courage in beginners to prosecute it; for their understandings and inward senses not yet being stored with good images to chase away vain distractions, nor their wills sufficiently inflamed with holy desires, it is not possible but they must often be assaulted terribly with most tedious aridities, passions, &c. They will be oft suspicious that they spend most of their recollections in a mere fruitless idleness, and so will be apt to fall into doubts and to betake themselves to unquiet consultations with others. But if they can avoid this and resolutely go on, notwithstanding these discouragements, no doubt they will reap inestimable benefits by it. But considering these great temptations and dangers, I should judge that the most secure way is not to adventure upon this exercise at the beginning, till one be arrived to the practice of immediate acts; and also, in the prosecution of it, it will be necessary to use great abstraction of life, and to practise likewise out of time of prayer the same internal silence, calming both the busy working of the imagination and stilling the motions of (even) good desires, both in study, working, saying the Office, &c.
16. Though the exercise be the same in substance at all
times, yet by long practice it grows more and more pure and
abstracted, the silence and introversion grow more profound,
and the operations more imperceptible, and it will in time se-
17. Some spiritual writers do express the state and behaviour of a soul in such a kind of prayer as this, by this phrase, that the soul is then aux escouttes; that is, she is watching and attending what God will speak to her or work in her. This phrase is to some very suspicious and offensive, as if it implied that the practisers of such prayer did pretend to extraordinary visitations and favours, from which notwithstanding they are wholly averse; and they mean no more by the phrase, but only to signify that the most perfect disposition that a soul can put herself in to receive divine lights, and to be enabled to tend purely and spiritually to God, is by silencing all noise of creatures and their images, by quieting all motions of passions, by admitting no other operation of the understanding but simple intelligence of objects apprehended by faith, and lastly, by a real embracing with the will no other object but God Hirnself, without reflecting or professing that the will adheres to Him. It is surely a far more perfect expression of resignation to the divine will in any difficulty and affliction really and quietly to embrace it with perfect silence than to busy one's self with profession that one does embrace it, as also actually and indeed to love, than to say one loves, &c.
18. Now though no distinct reflecting or otherwise express
acts either of the understanding or will are admitted into this
exercise, yet the soul is far from that mere cessation or
nonactuation professed by the frantic illuminates; for here the soul
is in a case like to a tender mother with unspeakable satisfaction
regarding her most amiable child: she all the while says
nothing, neither thinks any express distinct thought of which
she can give any account, yet both her mind and will also are
busy, yea, the mind in one simple regard has the virtue of
many long discourses, and the will in one quiet continued
application has the quintessence of a thousand distinct affections.
In like manner, a soul does actually regard God, and
19. Thus we conclude our instructions concerning the two inferior degrees of internal affective prayer. The remainder of this book will be employed about the blessed fruit of all our labours, to wit, perfect contemplation, the advices about which are not meant for the informing of those that are arrived thereto (for they have a divine light shining brightly in their hearts, beyond all human instructions), but for the encouragement of those that tend towards so divide a state, that will abundantly recompense all the labours, pains, bitternesses, and contradictions that occur in the way. Yea, though the well-minded soul should never in this life attain thereto, yet faithfully tending toward it to her last hour, she will not want even here a sufficient recompense of divine light and graces with an inestimable comfort of mind at her death, and afterwards she will not fail of the peculiar crown due to those that here do aspire to contemplation.
20. Let no excuses, therefore, be admitted, no incumbrances
hinder souls (those especially whose profession and state is
contemplation) to pursue the ways of prayer proper thereto, with
all courage and perseverance; for, as St. Teresa with, it is of
great importance to have a resolute determination and fixed purpose
of mind never to desist from diligent endeavour, until at
length we come to drink of this water of life, I mean supernatural
prayer. Labour, therefore, for it, come what will come from
THE FOURTH SECTION OF THE THIRD TREATISE.
OF CONTEMPLATION.
CHAPTER I.
1. HITHERTO the exercises of a devout soul have been exceedingly laborious, in which she hath been obliged to use force and constraint (more or less) upon herself to elevate the will above all created things, and to apply it unto God. She hath struggled through terrible oppositions of the devil and corrupt nature, the instability of the imagination, tumultuousness of passions, &c., all which would hinder her perseverance in her recollections; but notwithstanding all this, pursuing them still, sometimes in light and sometimes in darkness, sometimes allured by sweetness, and again sometimes afflicted (but not discouraged) with desolations, in the end God crowns her courage and patience by exalting her to a new, more perfect, and divine exercise of the prayer of union or Contemplation.
2. Contemplation (in the accepted general notion of the
word) signifies a clear, ready, mental seeing and quiet regarding
of an object, being the result and effect of a precedent diligent
3. Now according to the nature of the object contemplated, and the disposition or end of the person contemplating, there are several sorts of contemplation (at least so called). For, in the first place, anciently there was a certain kind of false contemplation, which we may call philosophical, practised by some learned heathens of old, and imitated by some in these days, which hath for its last and best end only the perfection of knowledge, and a delightful complacency in it. Others there were (and it is to be feared are still) that contented themselves with an airy vain renown, which they hoped to gain by their knowledge; so that whatsoever was the object of their contemplation (whether things natural, moral, yea, or even divine, as far as by wit and subtilty or tradition they could be known), self-love and pride was the utmost end of all these contemplations. Yea, to this rank of philosophical contemplations maybe referred those scholastic wits which spend much time in the study and subtle examination of the mysteries of faith, and have not for their end the increasing of divine love in their hearts; nay, these are indeed more imperfect and culpable (saith Albertus Magnus, Lib. de Adhaer. Deo) inasmuch as they offend against a greater and supernatural light.
4. Yea, and those among them that do truly intend, as their last and principal end, the glory of God and seeking His divine love (which is the best sort of scholastic contemplatives), yet since their chief employment consists in much internal discourse and reasoning, which cannot be practised without various and distinct sensible images by which to represent God, &c., the knowledge which they attain to is not properly contemplative, and the highest degree of prayer that they arrive unto is only a perfect kind of meditation.
5. In the second place, there is a mystic contemplation which
is, indeed, truly and properly such, by which a soul without
discoursings and curious speculations, without any perceptible
use of the internal senses or sensible images, by a pure, simple,
and reposeful operation of the mind, in the obscurity of faith,
6. So it is in prayer: the soul aspiring to a perfect union with God, as yet absent, begins with inquiry by meditation; for, as St. Augustine saith, Intellectus cogitabundus principium omnis boni; that is, All good proceeds from the understanding as its first principle. By meditation the soul labours to represent this divine object with all the sensible advantages and motives of admiration and love that it can invent, to the end the will by pure love may rest in Him; but this being done, the will being not yet at free liberty to dispose of itself, is forced with some violence to untwine and withdraw its adhesion from creatures, that it may elevate itself and be firmly fixed to this her only good, and at last, by long custom, the force by little and little diminishing, the object begins to appear in its own perfect light, and the affections flow freely, but yet with a wonderful stillness, to it; and then such souls are said to be arrived to perfect mystical union or contemplation.
7. This is properly the exercise of angels, for their knowledge is not by discourse; but by one simple intuition all objects are represented to their view at once, with all their natures, qualities, relations, dependencies, and effects; but man, that receives all his knowledge first from his senses, can only by effects and outward appearances with the labour of reasoning collect the nature of objects, and this but imperfectly; but his reasoning being ended, then he can at once contemplate all that is known unto him in the object.
8. Now in Holy Scripture our chiefest happiness and perfection
are said to consist in this, that we shall be like unto
angels both in our knowledge and love for we shall (as they)
9. This mystic contemplation or union is of two sorts: 1. Active and ordinary, being indeed an habitual state of perfect souls by which they are enabled, whensoever fit occasion shall be, to unite themselves actively and actually to God by efficacious, fervent, amorous, and constant, yet withal silent and quiet, elevations of the spirit. 2. Passive and extraordinary; the which is not a state but an actual grace and favour from God, by which He is pleased at certain times, according to His free good pleasure, to communicate a glimpse of His majesty to the spirits of His servants, after a secret and wonderful manner. And it is called Passive, not but that therein the soul doth actively contemplate God, but she can neither, when she pleases, dispose herself thereto, nor yet refuse it when that God thinks good to operate after such a manner in the soul, and to represent himself unto her by a divine particular image, not at all framed by the soul, but supernaturally infused into her; which grace is seldom, if ever, afforded but to souls that have attained to the former state cf perfect active union. Concerning this Passive Union and the several kinds of it, we shall speak more hereafter.
10. As for the former sort, which is active contemplation, of
which we have already treated in gross in this chapter, we read
11. Now whether such expressions as these will abide the strict examination of philosophy or no, I will not take on me to determine; certain it is that by a frequent and constant exercise of internal prayer of the will, joined with mortification, the soul comes to operate more and more abstracted from sense, and more elevated above the corporal organs and faculties, so drawing nearer to the resemblance of the operations of an angel or separated spirit.
12. Yet this abstraction and elevation (perhaps) are not to be understood as if the soul in these pure operations had no use at all of the internal senses or sensible images (for the schools resolve that cannot consist with the state of a soul joined to a mortal body); but surely her operations in this pure degree of prayer are so subtile and intime, and the images that she makes use of so exquisitely pure and immaterial, that she cannot perceive at all that she works by images, so that spiritual writers are not much to be condemned by persons utterly inexperienced in these mystic affairs, if delivering things as they perceived by their own experience they have expressed them otherwise than will be admitted in the schools.
13. Now to this kind of purely intellectual operations doth a soul begin to arrive after a sufficient exercise of immediate acts of the will, and having attained thereto they do grow more and more spiritual and sublime by the exercise of aspirations and blind elevations without all limit.
14. I call them pure intellectual operations, in opposition to actuations imaginative, produced by mean of gross sensible images, and not as if the said operations were in the intellect or understanding; for, on the contrary, they are exercised in a manner wholly by the will, for in proper aspirations the soul hath no other use of the understanding but only antecedently to propose an object, which is no other but only a general obscure confused notion of God, as faith darkly teaches, and this rather virtually than directly and expressly, the main business being to elevate the will and unite it to God so presented.
15. In which union (above all particular images) there is neither time nor place, but all is vacuity and emptiness, as if nothing were existent but God and the soul; yea, so far is the soul from reflecting on her own existence, that it seems to her that God and she are not distinct, but one only thing; this is called by some mystic authors the state of nothingness, by others the state of totality; because therein God is all in all, the container of all things. And the prayer proper to this state is thus described by a holy hermit in Cassian (collat. x. c. ii.): Ita ad illam orationis incorruptionem mens nostra perveniat, &c.; that is, So will the mind ascend to that pure simplicity of prayer, the which is freed from all intuition of images, undistinguished with any prosecution of words or senses, but uttered internally by an inflamed intention of the mind, by an unutterable excess of affection, and inconceivable quickness and alacrity of spirit, which prayer, the spirit being abstracted from all senses and sensible objects, doth pour forth unto God by sighs and groans that cannot be expressed.
16. It is an error, therefore, of inexperienced persons, who
think and say that all the exercises and thoughts of contemplatives
are actually in heaven, in interior conversation with
angels and saints, tasting of the joys of paradise, or wholly
employed in sublime speculations about divine mysteries of the
Trinity, Incarnation, &c.; true it is, that in a Passive Union, God
may, after a clear and distinct but wonderful manner, represent
any or all these things by a supernatural species imprinted in
the soul. But as for the proper exercise of active contemplation,
17. This happy state of active contemplation is, for substance, the most perfect that the soul is capable of in this life, being almost an entire reparation and restitution of the soul to the state of primitive innocence for as long as it lasts; because then the soul is freed from all sinfully-distracting images and affections that would separate her from God. Hereupon a holy hermit, in Cassian, says that, except in the very actual exercise of contemplation, a soul is not only in an imperfect state, but also in an immediate disposition to a sinful defect, by reason that where God doth not wholly possess the soul, the very images of creatures cannot but more or less defile her. How comfortable, therefore, and how only secure is a life of prayer!
18. Those that are inexperienced may, and often do, call this a state of idleness and unprofitable cessation, as Martha complained against her sister Mary; but those that have attained to a taste of it know it to be the business of all businesses, as St. Bernard calls it. True it is they do not, without a special and certain inspiration from God, interest themselves in external businesses, nor perhaps employ much of their time and devotions in express prayers for common necessities; yet those inexpressible devotions which they exercise, and in which they tacitly involve the needs of the whole Church, are far more prevalent with God than the busy endeavours and prayers of ten thousand others. A few such secrets and unknown servants of God are the chariots and horsemen, the strength and bulwarks of the kingdoms and churches where they live.
19. I know that some mystic authors do constitute several
distinct states following active contemplation. As Barbanson
makes mention of the state of the Divine Presence in the soul,
and after that of the Manifestation of God to the spirit, &c.,
and in all these great variety of ascents and descents, &c.;
likewise F. Ben. Canfield, in his last and most perfect state of
the essential and supereminent will of God, makes mention of
20. I will therefore content myself with delivering in a general manner, 1. the nature of the prayer proper to the state of active contemplation; 2. and from thence I will proceed to treat modestly concerning Passive Union, and the several kinds of it; 3. to which I will add a brief discourse of that great desolation which usually follows the said union; 4. and then I will conclude the whole book with a very short description of the state of Perfection.
CHAPTER II.
§§ 1, 2. Of the prayer proper to the state of contemplation: to wit, Aspirations; and why they are so called.
1. INTERNAL prayer proper to the state of active contemplation
consists of certain most purely spiritual operations of
the will, longing and thirsting after God, and an union with
2. These perfect operations are by spiritual authors severally named, as elevations, inward stirrings of the spirit, Aspirations, &c.; we will in the following discourse make use, for the most part, of this last term of Aspirations, as most proper in a general notion to express the said operations. For, 1. By them the soul in a holy ambition doth aspire to raise and elevate herself out, of inferior nature, and to mount to the apicem spiritus, which is God's throne. 2. By them the soul being inflamed with divine love doth breathe forth her ardent affections to God, as the heart forces the lungs to send forth that air which they had formerly sucked in, that they may draw in fresher air to refrigerate it; so that in both there is a quick reciprocal motion of emptying and filling, of rising and falling; for after every aspiration there is a short descent, and then a mounting higher than before. 3. Because, as our outward breathing is an action, as it were, purely natural, performed without any labour at all, or so much as election, so a soul rooted in charity breathes forth these pure Aspirations without any force used upon herself, they flowing from her freely (both as to the matter and manner of them) and in a sort naturally. 4. Because, as the motions made in breathing do not hinder (but rather advance) all other motions and operations, so may Aspirations be exercised during other ordinary employments without any prejudice to either, or without any considerable distraction, except they be such businesses that do require a special fixed attention of the mind with serious study. Now in such employments, if they be imposed by necessity or obedience, the soul ought to quit her Aspirations, and so doing she will gain as much by her obedience as she would by prayer.
3. Now these Aspirations are certain short and lively affections
of the soul, by which she expresses a thirsty longing after
God, such as these are: `My God, when shall I love Thee alone?
When shall I be united to Thee? Whom have I in heaven or
earth but Thee alone? O that Thou wouldst live and reign
alone in my soul! O my God, Thou alone sufficest me! Dost
4. Now the same affections (such as these) that are used in the prayer of Aspirations, may also be used, forasmuch as concerns the expression and sense of them, in the exercise of immediate acts, and even in meditation itself; but yet the manner by which the soul produces the said affections are, in many respects, different in perfect and imperfect souls, and the said Aspirations are of a quite different nature from other forced immediate acts of the will.
5. For, first, such fervorous affections, tending directly and immediately to God, are the entire matter in the exercise of Aspirations; whereas in immediate acts they are only now and then interlaced; but the ordinary matter of such acts is the doing or forbearing anything for God, as in acts of resignation, &c.
6. Secondly, in those immediate acts and affections in which
there are no images of creatures involved, but which respect
God immediately, He is represented by some distinct image or
express notion in the mind, as by some special attribute,
perfection, name, similitude, &c. But a soul, after a long practice
of internal abstraction and renouncing of all representations of
God, contents herself with such a confused notion of Him as
may be apprehended by an obscure general faith; that is to
say, not simply and absolutely with no kind of image at all (for
that is supposed inconsistent with the operations of the soul
whilst it is in a mortal body), but not with a distinct, formal,
chosen, particular image; for all such offering themselves are
rejected by perfect souls; so that if they were to give an account
of what they conceive in their minds when they intend to think
of God, all that they could say would be, God is nothing of all
that I can say or think, but a Being infinitely beyond it, and
absolutely incomprehensible by a created understanding. He
7. Thirdly, proper Aspirations in perfect souls have no precedent discourse at all, as acts have, at least virtually; neither doth the will in Aspirations intend to employ or make use of the understanding, for they are sudden elevations of the will without any previous motive or consideration.
8. Fourthly, immediate acts are not only produced with deliberation and choice, but ordinarily with some degree of force used apon the will. But Aspirations proceed from an interior impulse, indeliberately, and as it were naturally flowing from the soul, and thereby they show that there is in the interior a secret, supernatural, directing principle, to wit, God's Holy Spirit alone, teaching and moving the soul to breathe forth these Aspirations, not only in set recollections, but almost continually. Now this doth not infer that the Holy Spirit is not also the principle of all other good acts and affections of the will (for none of them have any true good in them further than they proceed from this divine principle); but in them the will doth previously and forcibly raise up itself to the producing them, in which, likewise, much of nature is mixed; and so the Holy Spirit is not so completely and perfectly the fountain of them as He is of Aspirations.
9. Fifthly, in case that a soul, whose constant exercise as
yet is but immediate acts or meditation, do sometimes merely by
an internal impulse produce such indeliberate Aspirations,
yet they are neither so pure and subtile, neither will they con-
10. Lastly, Aspirations (when they are a soul's usual exercise) do proceed from a more habitually perfect ground, and, therefore, are far more efficacious and noble than immediate acts; and, moreover, there being no violence at all used in them, they are much more frequently and continuedly produced, and, consequently, do procure more new graces and merits, and do far more increase the habit of charity.
11. No man can limit the time how long souls are to continue in inferior exercises before they will be enabled and made ripe for so sublime a prayer, and, therefore, there is no relying upon the instructions, practice, or examples of any; all depends 1. Upon the industry or diligence of souls in prayer and mortification; 2. somewhat upon their special temper and disposition; 3. likewise upon the advantage that they may have from solitude and abstraction of life; 4. but principally upon the free grace and good pleasure of God, who may and does, by ordinary or extraordinary means, call and enable souls to Aspirations, some sooner and some later.
12. In passing from the exercise of acts to Aspirations there is, as to the manner of the cessation of forced acts, great variety in souls; for some will have their morning recollections to be suddenly and entirely changed from forced acts to Aspirations, and also the ability for a longer continuance increased; whereas, the evening recollections will be little altered. In other souls (and this is most ordinary), their exercising of acts will grow by degrees more and more aspirative, and this will happen sometimes in the beginning, sometimes in the middle, and sometimes in the conclusion of their recollections. And thus they in their recollections will get more and more ground upon acts, diminishing both the frequency and constraint or difficulty of them, and increasing Aspirations, till in progress they become wholly aspirative.
13. Some souls, whose exercise is acts mixed with Aspirations, at their first coming to their recollections, yea, and till they have for some reasonable space exercised themselves, may happen to find themselves in perfect distraction; in which case, if they be called away by occasion of businesses of no great solicitude, they may find much profit by such interruptions, and be disposed thereby to return with much eagerness to their recollections, and with an enablement to exercise Aspirations. Yea, sometimes they will find themselves enabled to exercise them during such employments, their spirits being refreshed by means of such pauses and distances caused by the said interruptions. And experience will teach them that it will be needful sometimes to break off the course of their present internal prayer for some little space, after which they will find themselves better disposed for more frequent and efficacious Aspirations.
14. But as for imperfect souls, this must be no rule for them, for they must not, by reason of distractions, interrupt their mental prayer (or, at least, very seldom), but must with discreet violence force themselves to begin with a serious recollection, by that means driving away, or, at least, abating their present distractions.
15. When the exercise is become wholly Aspirations, all the change that will happen afterward will not be in the substance of the exercise, but only in the degrees of purity, subtilty, and spiritualness of those Aspirations, for there is no active exercise more sublime.
16. A soul may come to that state that she may constantly
breathe forth Aspirations, and yet, sufficiently to the discharge
of her obligation, either work, read, hearken to a lesson recited,
say or hear Mass, communicate, &c.; neither is there any
negligence or irreverence committed by so doing; for by no
operation so much as by Aspirations doth a soul enjoy a sublime and
perfect union in spirit with God, which is the end of all exercises
and duties, And this is the meaning of that saying of
mystics, `In God nothing is neglected;' yea, some of them do
affirm that there may be souls so perfect, that even amidst the
noises and disorders of a camp they may, without neglecting
17. Now the reason why Aspirations are less hindered by external businesses than are meditation or immediate acts is, because in Aspirations the understanding is scarce at all employed, and, therefore, may well enough attend to other businesses; and, moreover, the will, abounding and even overflowing with divine love, will not find herself interested in affection, and, consequently, not distracted by such employments.
18. There is great variety in the manner of producing Aspirations; for, first, some are purely mental, being certain indeliberate quick elevations and springings up of the spirit to Godward, as sparkles of fire flying from a burning coal (which is the expression of the author of the Cloud of Unknowing). And of these some are more gross and imaginative, especially in beginners, and, therefore, not difficult to be expressed; others, in more perfect souls that are come to a higher degree of spiritual abstraction, grow more subtle and intellectual, insomuch as ofttimes the person himself cannot express what passed in his spirit, which was, indeed, nothing but a blind and almost imperceptible elevation of the will exercised in the summity of the spirit, as it happens ofttimes in the great desolation. Now this growth of immateriality in Aspirations is not easily perceptible, though it be real and certain, as we know that corn grows though we cannot perceive its growing, and, indeed, it is no great matter whether we observe such degrees or no; yea, the examination thereof were better neglected.
19. Again, other Aspirations are, moreover, externally expressed
by the tongue, and in such expressions sometimes there
is a proper sense and meaning, as Deus meus et omnia (which
was St. Francis's aspiration), or, Noverim Te et noverim, me
(which was St. Augustine's); and in these sometimes a soul
doth abide a good space, reiterating again and again the same
aspiration; sometimes she doth vary, always proceeding according
to her interior impulse from God's Holy Spirit: other aspirations
have no sense at all, as were those practised by Br.
Mussaeus, a disciple of St. Francis, who, when, he was full of
20. Moreover, Aspirations and forcible elevations of the will there are which are signified, not by the tongue, but by some extraordinary action of the body, as clapping of hands, leaping, &c. To this purpose we have an example of another disciple of St. Francis, called Br. Bernard, who, out of an inward boiling fervour, was forced to run over mountains and rocky places, being agitated with a kind of holy frenzy. In such cases as these, tears are very rare, God's Holy Spirit not usually moving thereto, because they would then flow immeasurably, to the great prejudice of corporal health.
21. Now such actions and motions, though they may be yielded to sometimes when one is alone, yet in company they are to be suppressed. To which purpose Blosius gives this good instruction out of Thaulerus, that albeit these things be good, as flowing from a divine principle, yet they are not the things principally to be commended, for these unions of the spirit with God, to which corporal nature concurs, are not to be equalled to that most perfect union which some souls do experience in pure spirit; and, therefore, it is observable that such violent agitations do chiefly befall such souls as have had their exercise much in sensible devotion, as women and devout ignorant men; and on the same grounds such are more disposed to rapts, ecstasies, &c.
22. Lastly, to these several expressions of Aspirations may
be added that of saying the Divine Office or other vocal prayers
aspiratively, which is a far greater proof of sublime contemplation
than any of those unusual motions, &c. This was the contemplation
of many of the ancient hermits, and is, no doubt, of
some in these days. As a certain spiritual writer says of himself,
that being in the constant exercise of aspirations, using daily
two recollections consisting of them, on a time he found himself
23. I will conclude this point with setting down some of the great and inestimable benefits that accrue to souls by this sublime exercise; as, first, in regard of the interior senses and sensitive faculties: the dominion that the superior soul has over them is now become very great, for inasmuch as it is God that helpeth, moveth, and directeth souls in their operations during this exercise of Aspirations, the heart also being estranged from the love of creatures and replenished with divine love, distractive thoughts and images of creatures either do not press into the mind, or if they do, yet they pass no further than into the imagination; or if the understanding do sometimes busy itself with them, yet they do scarce or not at all touch or affect the will, which is not by such extravagant thoughts interrupted or diverted in her pursuit of Aspirations and blind elevations; whereas, in immediate forced acts greater force is to be used against such distractions, which do not only busy the understanding, but likewise, more or less, withdraw the will from God.
24. Secondly, in regard of sensible devotion: though the
devil may have great influence upon it in meditation, or even
sometimes in immediate affections and acts, seeking thereby to
seduce souls to extravagances and a spiritual gluttony, it is
otherwise in the exercise of Aspirations, which are so much elevated
above the imagination and sensitive nature, that here he
has no advantage given him for such deceits; and if during
that sensible devotion, which in some souls, during this exercise,
flows from the spirit into inferior nature, he should endea-
25. Thirdly, in regard of the understanding: whereas it was before all bepainted with images of creatures, yea, when it regarded God, it saw Him by an image of its own creating, now the soul loses all remembrance of itself and of all created things, and all that she retains of God is a remembrance that He cannot be seen nor comprehended. All creatures, therefore, being removed, and no particular distinct image of God admitted, there remains in the soul and mind, as it were, a nothing. and mere emptiness, which nothing is more worth than all creatures, for it is all that we can know of God in this life; this nothing is the rich inheritance of perfect souls, who perceive clearly that God is nothing of all that may be comprehended by our senses or understanding. The state, therefore, of such souls, forasmuch as concerns knowledge, is worthily called the `cloud of unknowing' and the `cloud of forgetting' by the author of that sublime treatise so called; and this is the most perfect and most angelical knowing that a soul is capable of in this life. Now this perception of this nothing doth appear more clearly and comfortably the longer that a soul remains under this cloud and darkness, where God's dwelling is; for, as the Psalmist saith, this darkness is immediately under his feet; this knowledge of nothing is, by F. Benet Canfield, called an active annihilation.
26. Fourthly, in regard of the will: it is in this exercise so wholly possessed and inflamed with divine love, which doth so intimely penetrate into the very centre of it, that it is become like fiery, burning steel, clean through shining with this fire. It is now a will deiform, and in a manner deified, for it is so closely united and hidden in the Divine Will, that God may be said to will and do all things in and by her.
27. Fifthly, in regard of the whole person: till a soul be
arrived unto this exercise, she never attains to a perfect possession
of all virtues universally; they are, indeed, all in an inferior
degree and with much mixture of natural, sensual ends,
28. The author of the Cloud, and likewise Barbanson, do with great reason teach, that after a soul is mounted to this degree of exercising love constantly by Aspirations, she is not in any difficulty, aridity, &c., to descend to any inferior exercise; herein differing from F. Benet Canfield and some others, who require some exercise of the Passion in all estates.
CHAPTER III.
§§ 1, 2. Of the second sort. of unions: to wit, passive.1. HITHERTO, of the exercise of perfect Active Union or Contemplation: I call it perfect, because though in every degree of prayer there is a proportionable degree of union of the soul with God, yet perfect union is only in this of Aspirations, but so as that it may increase in degrees, and grow more and more immediate without all limits; but how much soever it increases, it will never exceed that obscure light which faith affords, which is the most perfect light that we can have in this life (for to see God as He is, is reserved for the future life). Now though even the most imperfect have this light of faith, yet in their inferior contemplations they do, for the most part, make use of and follow their natural light, regarding such images and representations of God as they frame in their imagination or by discourse; but in perfect contemplation this light of faith is the only light.
2. But besides these active unions, there are other unions and contemplations which are passive and extraordinary, by which God reveals Himself unto the soul by a supernatural species impressed in her, in which He is the only agent, and she the patient; not as if when a soul does contemplate God she were not in some sort active, but because by no dispositions or preparations that the soul can use can she assuredly procure them; but when God is pleased graciously to communicate them, the soul is taken out of her own disposal, and does and must see and think only what God will have her, and this no longer than His good pleasure is such.
3. Now such supernatural graces are either: 1. sensible; or, 2. purely intellectual. The former are the most imperfect and least efficacious to cause a gracious good disposition in the soul that receives them.
4. Of sensible unions, the most imperfect and least to be
relied upon are: 1. Those which by God are communicated to
the outward senses, as apparitions visible to the eyes; words
5. A second sort of sensible graces, more sublime than the former, are such as are by God communicated to the internal senses, especially the imagination, infusing supernatural images into it, by which God sometimes makes known His will either immediately or by the disposition of Angels, so as the persons will perceive words imaginatively spoken, or think they see an Angel or Saint, as if such words had indeed been spoken, and those objects represented really to the outward senses; for such is the nature of the imagination that it can, after its manner, exercise all the functions of the outward senses.
6. Of such supernatural inactions of God upon the soul by means of the internal senses, the most notable effects are raptures or ecstasies, likewise internal visions and apparitions, which go together sometimes, and sometimes are separated.
7. Now a rapture or ecstasy is an elevation of the soul caused by God, by which the person is bereaved of the use of the outward senses, by reason that the soul in her internal operations cleaves wholly to supernatural things, and the imagination is environed with lights, visions, &c. And all this is done to the end that the person may internally know and see what is God's pleasure to reveal unto him, for the good either of himself or any other.
8. My purpose is not to treat nicely of these matters (for
which the reader is referred to Joannes a Jesu-Maria, a discalced
9. Now, for a preparation to the following rules of discerning, I will lay these grounds: 1. That the devil cannot immediately operate either on the understanding or will, but only by imprinting new, or disposing the images already in the fancy, or by moving the sensitive appetite. 2. By consequence, if the lights imprinted in the understanding by means of raptures, visions, &c., do direct to real good (as to the love of God, humility, &c.), and that the will entertains these good affections, a soul may prudently and rationally ascribe the cause to God.
10. The rules of discerning, delivered by both ancient and modern holy authors, are these which follow: the first, When the will is moved without the ordinary precedent action of the understanding or imagination, and also in the same instant a certain new light is communicated to the mind, a soul may be confident that it comes from the Divine Spirit.
11. The second rule: Good observation is to be made whether the persons be Christianly disposed, not much swayed by curiosity or pride, not addicted to melancholy, &c.; whether by such favours they be not invited to say or do something contrary to Catholic truth, peace, obedience, honesty, purity, humility, &c., and, accordingly, souls are to judge from what principles they flow.
12. The third rule: Divine spiritual unions, visions, &c., are ordinarily of short continuance.
13. The fourth rule: Apparitions of good spirits, although in the beginning they cause a trembling and amazement, yet in the end the soul receives courage and comfort, finds herself illuminated, inflamed with devotion, and in great peace; whereas, when the devil grows familiar with any, though he appear in never so fearful and horrible shapes, the persons are not affrighted, and he leaves them as he found them.
14. The fifth rule: It is ordinarily the mark of a good spirit:
15. The sixth rule: The receiving of any extraordinary outward favours or gifts, as roses, rings, jewels, &c., is much to be suspected, unless such things happen to souls of a long-continued sanctity, and that they be rather miraculously revealed after their death than divulged during their life. The like judgment is to be made of outward characters imprinted on bodies, as the name of Jesus, marks of our Lord's wounds, &c.
16. The seventh rule: When souls, after the practice of long and severe austerities, come to enjoy much peace and contentment, both external and internal, especially if such favours be overmuch in sense, and not greatly relishing of the spirit, or if they be never so little indecent &c., it is much to be feared that the devil has a great influence upon such a change; and, therefore, such persons ought to persevere in fear and penance, not trusting upon their good works past, but humbly beseeching God to preserve them from the enemy's illusions.
17. The eighth rule: Ecstasies that do not produce considerable profit either to the persons themselves or others deserve to be suspected; and when any marks of their approaching are perceived, the persons ought to divert their minds some other way.
18. The ninth rule: The appearance of objects, how beautiful
and celestial soever, ought not suddenly to be welcomed,
nor affection to be placed upon them, for the devil hath been
permitted to take on him the shape even of our Blessed Lord
Himself; and if in such visitations the persons feel any impure
19. The tenth rule: It is very suspicious to see a soul that is very young in a spiritual course, or that is not of extraordinary purity, to fall into raptures, &c.; for great mortification with prayer is requisite to make a soul ripe for the divine inaction.
20. The eleventh rule: It is no proof at all of the want of grace and charity in persons to be troubled with diabolical apparitions, &c., if thereby there be wrought in them no other ill effects besides molestations and affliction; yea, in that case it may reasonably be judged that they are strongly assisted with God's Holy Spirit, since they overcome so great temptations of the evil spirit.
21. The twelfth and last rule: It cannot proceed from a
good spirit, when souls visited with revelations, &c., shall
obstinately believe them to be of God, after they have been
condemned by experienced superiors and directors, unless the
persons be able to yield most convincing proofs thereof, and,
moreover, shall seriously profess that God, together with the
secrets revealed, hath imprinted in their souls this assurance and
belief also. Certain it is that obedience is a most secure remedy
against all possible inconveniences, and can do no harm in any
cases. This is that that St. Teresa seriously enjoins, and most
constantly practised herself; and this in very strange circumstances,
when the confessarius condemning her was both unlearned
and impertinent, &c. But withal, spiritual directors
ought not to be rash in their proceedings, nor to judge till after a
long experience and knowledge of the inward dispositions of the
persons, and a due weighing of the nature of the revelations
discovered to them. It is likewise requisite that those that take
upon them to judge of these things be themselves devout, exer-
22. In the next place, as touching the manner how a soul, after receiving of such supernatural favours, is to behave herself. The principal care that she ought to have is, that she do not bear a deliberate and fixed love to such things (which is due to God only), and, consequently, that she do not, either expressly or implicitly, pray to God to have such visions, revelations, &c.; or in case that God, without her prayers, hath sent them, that she do not usually, without necessity, talk of such matters, or love to hear others talk of them; for these are signs of an undue affection to them.
23. St. John of the Cross saith, that when God doth, after an extraordinary manner, make known unto humble souls His will that they should take in hand some great employment, by means whereof they may likely gain a great esteem of excellency, and, probably, will be in danger to conceive some extraordinary worth to be in themselves, for which they are so highly favoured by God (which conceit the devil will not fail to cherish and increase), He doth oftentimes rather increase than diminish the fear and repugnance that they had formerly to such things, causing in them a desire and readiness much rather to the undergoing of some vile or base offices. Thus He dealt with Moses, when He had sent him to Pharaoh, and thus with Jeremy, &c. But it happens quite contrary when the bidding is from the devil, counterfeiting privily a divine mission, for he, with his commissions, causeth a forwardness in souls to take upon them employments of excellency or otherwise grateful to nature, as also a great aversion from those that either suspect or would dissuade them from such undertakings.
24. A soul, therefore, is by serious consideration to raise and
increase in herself an apprehension and aversion from such matters,
saying with St. Peter, Exi a me, &c.--Go from me, O Lord, for
I am a sinful man; and by exercising so profitable a mortification
she will secure herself from all perils, and render herself
very acceptable to God. Serious instructions to a disappropriation
and mortifying our love to such things are to be found in Scala
25. This was the practice of the holy Virgin St. Colette, who,
when God offered to reveal unto her divers secrets, answered:
`Lord God, it sufficeth me only to know Thee, and the sins in
which I have offended Thee, and to obtain Thy pardon for them.'
But most notable in this regard is the example of Suso, when
God commanded him to publish to all estates in the world (the
Pope, bishops, abbots, &c.) their vices and enormities represented
to him in the vision of the nine rocks; he, out of that
habitual fear and humility that was in him, did so resist the
executing such a charge, that till he was adjured and commanded
in the name of the Holy Trinity, and so forced to it even against
his will, he had never yielded; and then also he submitted himself
with much bewailing his misery, expressing his fear of the
danger of pride, and, therefore, humbly begging that his name
26. Those, therefore, that are favoured with extraordinary graces, if they did duly consider their state and danger, would find little ground to exalt themselves, or to despise others that are in a more low, but withal far more secure way.
27. Now for the preventing and avoiding the great danger of ill-using such favours and divine graces, to the feeding of selflove and pride, spiritual authors do seriously enjoin such persons so visited by God not to trust their own judgments or to determine whether they come from God or not, and much less to put in practice anything of consequence upon such revelation, but to refer themselves to the judgment and advice of others.
28. And herein great care is to be had to choose pious and discreet directors, because too many there are that will too readily and suddenly resolve such matters to come from none but God, and will thereupon desire such persons to intercede for them, and to beg some particular favours of the like nature, &c. Now upon such indiscreet behaviour in those that should be directors, such persons will begin to think that God loves to treat with them, and will interpret the things declared unto them according to their own gust and humours; and if things shall fall out otherwise than they imagined, they will fall into melancholic suspicions, and great danger of the devil's snares.
29. The best course that a confessarius in this case can take
is, if there be any rational grounds of probability that such
visions, &c., do not come from God, to exhort and enjoin the
persons to avoid and despise then; yea, and if after long and
serious examination it should seem almost evident to him that
God is the Author of them, yet ought he so to behave himself
both in words and actions, as to deter the soul from adhering; to
them with affection, rather inclining her to a suspicion and fear
or, however, to an indifferency about then, with an aspect of
30. Certainly the danger is far less to be too difficult in believing and esteeming such things than to be never so little too credulous and inclined to admire them, for it were better that good ones should be often suspected than that an ill one should be once believed. And, therefore, we do find that our Blessed Lord, appearing to St. Teresa, did neither take it ill from her nor from her director, when by his order she did spit at Him and defy Him so appearing to her; but He only informed her how she should give convincing proofs that it was no illusion.
31. St. John of the Cross gives very good advices touching this point, exhorting souls, as the surest way, that in case they cannot meet with a prudent and experienced confessarius, they should not speak one word concerning such graces, but to pass them over and to make no account of them; and, however, by ao means of their own heads to proceed to the executing of anything signified after such an unusual manner.
32. And though it should happen that the soul, being so disposed as to make no great estimation of such things (which will be a great security from danger by them), shall therefore think it to no purpose to consult with a prudent director about such trifles; or if, on the other side, such revelations seem unto her so absolutely clear and unquestionable that there is no need at all to ask any one's judgment about them; yet, saith the same author, it will be necessary that she discover them to her spiritual master.
33. And the reasons are: 1. Because ordinarily such is
God's order and disposition, to the end that by such an humble
submission of herself a new light and grace may be communicated
to her. 2. To the end that upon such an occasion she
may be put in mind to restrain her affections from such things,
and be established in true nakedness and poverty of spirit; for
which end the confessarius ought not to insist upon the excellency
of such favours, but (passing over them slightly) to en-
34. Whatsoever it be that is suggested in such a revelation, whether it concern knowledge or practice, though in itself it be of never so small moment, yet without advice a soul ought neither to assent to it nor execute it; for whatsoever the thing itself be, yet considering the cause and means by which it comes (which is supposed to be supernatural), it becomes of great importance. Yea, the mere conversation and familiarity with an intellectual spirit is a matter of great consequence, and as being with a good spirit, it is likely to be occasion of much good; so being with a bad spirit (as it may well be supposed to be till the contrary be evident), it will probably cause very much harm.
35. A soul being to consult with others about such matters, ought to take heed that she fall not into impertinences, but, as Alvarez de Paz adviseth, let her humbly, briefly, and cleariy manifest so much of these extraordinary matters to her director as may be sufficient to enable him to judge, and if he do not value them, let her simply hold on her course and securely proceed in her ordinary exercises of devotion.
36. If some eminently perfect souls have followed their own
light in judging of these things and practising accordingly, with
37. In such cases, likewise, all souls are not so absolutely obliged to resign their judgments and wills to others, as utterly to neglect their own proper call received from God; for to a wellminded soul that walks and deals simply and plainly with God, and labours diligently to keep her affections free from all created things, aspiring to an indifference whether she have or wants them--yea, out of humility and a pious fear rather desires to want such extraordinary visitations--such a soul, doubtless, will be so guided and illuminated by God's Holy Spirit as she will perfectly know what to do and forbear, and whether, when, and of whom to ask counsel. Let, therefore, such a soul carefully observe her internal direction, and this is the advice of St. John of the Cross.
38. From these precedent advices it may appear how differently a soul ought to behave herself in this case of extraordinary calls or inspirations from that to which (as hath been said in the first treatise) we are obliged in those inspirations which, though indeed supernatural, yet are ordinary. For in ordinary ones we are not at all to trouble others with consultations, or to seek advice, but presently to put in execution what shall be inspired or internally suggested unto us, whereas in these extraordinary cases we must do the quite contrary.
39. Thus far concerning those Passive Unions and contemplations
which God sometimes communicates to souls after a
sensible manner, especially in ecstasies (and revelations), in
which there is an alienation and suspension of the use of the
outward senses, which I have styled supernatural graces of God;
not as if the like might not be produced by a natural way, for
history informs us of some that, by a wonderful intention of
mind upon philosophical verities, have drawn the operations of
the spirit so much inward that the exercise of the outward
senses have been suspended, and an ecstasy ensued; and,
there-
40. But, besides these, there are (no doubt) many ecstasies and revelations purely supernatural, in which God either immediately or by the disposition of angels doth communicate such divine lights, graces, &c., as could not possibly flow from any assemblance of natural causes. Such were many of those communicated to St. Teresa, St. John of the Cross, &c. Now which way soever of these two such graces do proceed, the foresaid advices ought to have place.
CHAPTER IV.
§§ 1, 2, 3, 4. Of the second and more perfect sort of passive unions, to wit, such as are purely intellectual.
1. THE other before-mentioned Passive Union, which I called
intellectual, is far more noble and sublime, in which God or some
divine mystery is immediately presented or discovered to the
understanding, without any representations, figures, or discoursings
in the imagination. In the former sensible unions the
2. The former sensible unions, especially such as pass in the internal sense, with alienation from the exercise of the outward, do seldom befall very perfect souls, and less to men than to women; because such an alienation from sense proceeds partly from the infirmity of the soul and its incapacity to attend to divine inaction (perhaps not from a necessary exigence of the inaction itself), and partly from a customary exercise of prayer by strong and tender affections in sensitive nature, which do more push forward the soul to attend earnestly to divine objects, from whence is caused a suspension of the outward senses.
3. There are some degrees of this intellectual passive union to which a soul, by leading a pure spiritual life, may dispose herself, making herself worthy and capable of the said inactions, she behaving herself as an humble patient, and not an agent in the business.
4. By virtue of these inactions, many souls have received internal lights and resolutions to many difficulties concerning themselves or others; likewise many suggestions, strong and clear, concerning extraordinary matters to be said or done, and all this without any external or imaginative vision, by certain secret whispers of the Divine Spirit, silently but assuredly enlightening the mind concerning certain truths or purposes to be believed or performed; frequent examples whereof we have in the lives of B. Angela of Foligno, St. Teresa, &c.
5. Of these intellectual passive unions, the supreme and most noble that may be had in this life is, that whereby God is contemplated without any perceptible images, by a certain intellectual supernatural light darted into the soul, in which regard it draws much towards an angelical contemplation; for herein though God be not seen as He is, yet He is clearly seen that He is, and that He is incomprehensible.
6. Mystic authors call this rather a divine passive union
7. Such passive unions are rather a reward and free grace bestowed by God on souls that have been extraordinarily faithful and diligent in mortification and internal exercises than an end to be intended by any; for even the most pure and perfect souls cannot, with all their industries, procure them at pleasure.
8. This most pure contemplation does so exceed all voluntary operations of the soul's faculties, that it usually causes an alienation and suspension of all the senses, as well external as internal; yet the continuance of it is but very short, as St. Bernard (who, no doubt, could speak from his own experience) observes, for it seldom lasteth above a quarter of an hour.
9. But the benefits, fruits, and graces which so short a visitation causeth in the soul are both wonderfully excellent and very lasting, and these both in regard: 1. of the understanding; 2. of the will; and 3. the sensitive faculties likewise.
10. First, in regard of the understanding, there is thereby a divine light communicated, not revealing or discovering any new verities, but affording a most firm clear assurance and experimental perception of those verities of Catholic religion which are the objects of our faith, which assurance the soul perceives to be divinely communicated to her.
11. O happy evidence of our Catholic belief! No thanks to
them that believe after such sight, which is more evident than
12. Such contemplations as this made St. Teresa so confident in the points of her belief, that it seemed to her that she was able to dispute with and confound all the heretics in the world; but yet therein she might perhaps be deceived, if that God did not further enable her than by such contemplations only; for though they served to establish most firmly her own belief, yet would they not suffice to enable her to dispute with and convince others, because neither could she intelligibly enough express what she had seen, and if she could, yet would not all believe her, nor were they rationally obliged to do so. And, therefore, doubtless she would never have undertaken, of her own accord, without a special motion and invitation from God, to have entered into any such disputes; indeed, if God had urged her thereto, then, doubtless, He would have given her an especial assistance and force.
13. A soul that is newly awakened, as it were, from such a contemplation or union, coming to read the Holy Scriptures or any spiritual book, will pierce far more deeply into the verities contained in them, and will see clearer lights and feel far more perfect tastes of the divine truths therein than ever before; so that all the knowledge that she formerly had will seem unto her mere darkness and a knowledge of the outward letter only, whereas now she penetrates into the internal spirit of the writings.
14. In the next place, the change that is made by this supernatural
union with regard to the will and affections is equally
admirable, inso much as many years spent in mortification and
other internal exercises will not so purify the soul as a few
minutes passed in such a divine inaction. Here it is, indeed,
that a soul perfectly feels her own nothing and God's totality,
and thereby is strangely advanced in humility and the divine
15. In the third place, these supernatural unions are of that virtue that they do wholly subdue the imagination and other internal senses to the superior soul, so that they cannot, as they list, wander to and fro, but are reduced to such a happy servitude to the spirit, that without any stress or violence they are brought to attend it in all its employments and occasions; or, if the imagination do sometimes wander, yet it never fastens itself with delight on any external perishing objects, by reason that self-love is in a sort extinguished in the soul, so that it may easily be reduced; or, howsoever, by its wanderings it doth not hinder or interrupt the operations of the spirit.
16. Moreover, it is observed by mystics that souls which
formerly during the precedent less perfect exercises were of quite
different, even contrary dispositions and natural complexions,
after such supernatural unions do come to a very near resemblance
to one another (as we see that several ways or paths which
from far distant places lead to a city, the nearer they approach
to the city the nearer also do they come to one another, and at
last fall into and make one common highway). And the reason
hereof is, because nature and its particular affections and
inclinations are now so worn and even burnt out by the fire of
17. It will be no wonder if these things here spoken of a supernatural passive union shall seem incredible, or, perhaps, to be but dreams of extravagant or melancholic spirits, not only to those that are strangers from the Catholic faith, but those Catholics also that are inexperienced in internal ways; yet if they would consider that all this hath been delivered by the testimony of most devout, humble, and spiritually prudent persons, some of them very learned also, who profess to write nothing but what themselves have had experience of, and this by an internal command of God's Spirit, and for the edification of others, they will perhaps judge more warily of these things. And withal, considering that out of the Catholic Church no such divine graces and communications were ever heard of, they will, however, reap this benefit by them, if not to dispose themselves the best they can for the enjoying them, at least they will abhor all novelties in doctrines, and continue unshaken and obedient children to the Church.
CHAPTER V.
§§ 1, 2, 3. Of the great desolation usually following an intellectual passive union.
1. A SOUL having once experienced such extraordinary
divine favours will be apt to say with the Psalmist (Non movebor
in aternum), `I shall never be moved, Thou, Lord, of Thy goodness
hast made my hill so strong.' But if she think so she will
find, herself strangely deceived; for as the whole course of a
spiritual life consists of perpetual changes, of elevations and
depressions, and an extraordinary consolation is usually attended
2. This truly is a misery so great and so deplorable, that to prevent the like in others, I conceive requisite to give warning of it, and by a brief description of the nature and manner of such a desolation, together with the good ends for which God permits, yea, in a sort conducts souls into it, to encourage them to bear themselves in it with patience, resignation, and tranquillity of mind. I shall be brief in this point, remitting the readers for a farther explanation of it to Barbanson, as likewise to that excellent treatise called Interior Abnegation.
3. From the foresaid sublime familiarities, therefore, and communications between God and His chosen souls, He conducts them usually (especially after the first passive union) to another far different state of pure sufferance; but this is not a happy suffering (as formerly) from God, but a woful suffering from the soul herself; for God, for some time retiring Himself from her, permits her to feel her natural infirmity, and this He does by degrees, lest, if the extremity and bitterness of this state did at once seize upon her, she should be utterly oppressed by the temptation. Therefore, when by many inferior trials of her patience and resignation He sees her strong and courageously resolved to follow Him whithersoever He shall lead her, then He puts her to this last and of all other greatest trial.
4. For first He not only withdraws all comfortable observable
infusions of light and grace, but also deprives her of a power to
exercise any perceptible operations of her superior spirit and of
all comfortable reflections upon His love, plunging her into the
depth of her inferior powers. Here, consequently, her former
calmness of passions is quite lost, neither can she introvert her
5. Now if all these disorders continued only for some short
time, she might without extreme difficulty practise patience as
she did in her former aridities and desolations; but alas! this
most afflicting martyrdom oftentimes continues many months,
yea, in some persons several years (not always in extremity, but
with some intercisions), so that the soul comes in a manner to
lose all patience. She often complains in her prayers to God for
deserting her that would fain not desert Him, yet when she
makes such prayers, to her seeming her spirit will not join; if
6. Moreover, the temptations which she now suffers are both so violent and her resistance so feeble, they are withal so unexpected, so secret, and subtle, that notwithstanding any information that she formerly had, by reading or other ways, touching such a condition of suffering to be expected, yet when it comes she will scarce be persuaded that this can be possibly a way to perfection or conducing to her good; all her former light and instructions will scarce at all diminish her resentment of her deplorable condition; she loses nothing of her former light (for souls arrived to this state are not to seek or to learn how and in what manner they are to exercise themselves interiorly: they study no more for that than one would do how he may see with his eyes or hear with his ears, having the perfect use of his senses), but when she is to practise according to this light, she has no satisfaction at all. If she have any difficulties or obscurities, it is how she is to comport herself in external matters, and even this obscurity is but very small; but, however, she thinks that all the light she has serves to little purpose, finding that notwithstanding it she works as if she had no light at all. In a word, she now sees her own natural misery so perfectly (yea, and can see nothing but it) that she cannot see how God can comfort her if He would.
7. All this shows that notwithstanding all her precedent
exercises, yea, that during the foregoing divine inactions, yet
many dregs of corrupt nature did remain in her; they were only
hid, but not extinguished. This, therefore, was the only forcible
expedient left to destroy in a manner all the sinful inclinations
of nature in her; indeed, to natural reason this seems a strange
and most improper remedy--to destroy nature by suspending
the influences and operations of grace, and by suffering nature
to break forth violently without any control and restraint, all
8. For the truth is that in this case of desolation the soul doth by her free-will, or rather in the centre of the spirit beyond all her faculties, remain in a constant union and adhesion to God, although no such union do appear unto her; yea, though it seems to her that she is not only estranged but even averted from God, and by virtue of that most secret but firm adhesion she makes election of God as her only good, which may to any but herself sufficiently appear by her carriage during that state; for she breaks not out into any murmurings, she seeks not to comfort herself by admitting any inordinate external solaces, nor doth anything deliberately by which to rid herself from such an afflicting estate sooner or otherwise than God would have her to do. She practises tranquillity of mind in the midst of a tempest of passions in sensitive nature; she exercises resignation without the least contentment to herself therein; she learns patience in the midst of impatience, and resignation in the midst of irresignation; in a word, she yields herself as a prey unto Almighty God, to be cast into this most sharp purgatory of love, which is an immediate disposition to an established state of perfection.
9. More particularly the fruits and benefits flowing from this
most sad estate (supported with patience and tranquillity of
spirit) are wonderful. 1. For first, hereby the devout soul obtains
a new light to penetrate into the mystery of our Lord's
desertion in the garden and on the cross, and from this light a
most inflamed love to Him; now she ceases to wonder why
He should deprecate a cup so mortally bitter as this, and that it
should work such strange effects on Him, or that He should cry
out, Eli, Eli, lamma sabacthani, and by this desertion of His
(which lasted till the very last moment of His life) she hopes to
have an end put to hers. 2. Now she learns by experience to
make a division between the supreme portion of the spirit and
inferior nature, yea, between the summity of the spirit and the
faculties of the same; for that portion of her by which she cleaves
CHAPTER VI.
§§ 1, 2, 3. Of the end of all the precedent exercises, and of all the changes in a spiritual life: to wit, a stable state of perfection and prayer.1. IT remains only for a conclusion of the whole book, that something be said of the end of all these exercises of Mortification and Prayer, in which there is so great variety of degrees and changes.
2. And surely that end must needs be supereminently excellent,
for the attaining whereof such incredible labour (both
3. And for what end all this? Surely not that a man should rest finally in the joy conceived by such a fruition, nor merely to torture the soul by such a bitter desolation. Our supreme happiness is not receiving but loving; all these favours, therefore, and all these sufferings do end in this: namely, the accomplishment of this love in our souls, so that all our perfection consists in a state of love and an entire conformity with the divine will.
4. There are, therefore, in a spiritual life no strange novelties or wonders pretended to. Divine love is all; it begins with love and resignation, and there it ends likewise. All the difference is in the degrees and lustre of it; love, even in its most imperfect state, is most divinely beautiful, which beauty is wonderfully increased by exercise; but when by such fiery trials and purifications, as also by so near approaches as are made to the fountain of beauty and light in passive unions, this love is exalted to its perfection; how new, how admirable, and incomprehensible to us imperfect souls is the manner of the exercising of it! We must content ourselves to hear those speak of it that have had some experience in it, and if what they say be incomprehensible to us, we ought not to wonder at it.
5. That which the forementioned Suso (in his ninth Rock)
writes of the nature of this love in gross is not so abstruse. O,
how small (says he) is the number of those perfect souls! And
yet as few as they are, God sets them as pillars to support His
Church, so that if it were not for them, it would be in danger to
be dissipated. The prayer of one such soul is of more efficacy
6. But as for the internal actuations in the souls of the perfect, they are so inexplicably subtle and pure, that experience itself doth not sufficiently enable them to give an intelligible account of them. What soul can imagine how divinely spiritual and angelical must needs have been the internal exercises of divine love in St. Romualdus, after almost a hundred years spent in solitude, during all which time they continually grew more and more pure and divine?
7. In the active unions which souls, during a less perfect
state have with God, God is in them as an object distinct from
them, and so contemplated by them; but in the state of perfection
He is not only the object and end, but the only perceivable
principle also of all their operations; yea, saith Barbanson
(cap. 12), He is the fund, the entire state, the stable foundation
of the soul, by virtue of which the being, life, and respiration of
the spirit is become as much exalted as the operations and
contemplations thereof, for this union is not now only a gift and
operation of God, that is of a short continuance, nor only simple
actual infusions, by which the soul may at some times be actually
informed, and no more; but the very foundation, state, and
disposition of the soul is changed, reversed, and reformed by
divine grace, which being a participation of the Divine Being,
and, consequently, making us partakers of the divine nature,
confers on us a stable and permanent state in regard of our interior,
to live according to the divine and supernatural life, conformable
whereto are the consequents and effects of it, to wit,
light, knowledge, experience, and inclination to divine things.
Yea (saith the same author in another place), although the divine,
actual, and special touches be not always really present, so as by
8. By reason of this habitation and absolute dominion of the Holy Spirit in the souls of the perfect (who have wholly neglected, forgotten, and lost themselves, to the end that God alone may live in them, whom they contemplate in the absolute obscurity of faith), hence it is that some mystic writers do call this perfect union the UNION OF NOTHING WITH NOTHING, that is, the union of the soul, which is nowhere corporally, that hath no images nor affections to creatures in her; yea, that hath lost the free disposal of her own faculties, acting by a portion of the spirit above all the faculties, and according to the actual touches of the Divine Spirit, and apprehending God with an exclusion of all conceptions and apprehensions; thus it is that the soul, being nowhere corporally or sensibly, is everywhere spiritually and immediately united to God, this infinite nothing.
9. The soul now is so elevated in spirit that she seems to be all spirit, and, as it were, separated from the body. Here she comes to a feeling, indeed, of her not-being, and by consequence, of the not-being of creatures. This is, indeed, a real truth; not as if the soul or other creatures either did cease according to their natural being, or as if a natural being were, indeed, no real being (as Father Benet Canfield doth seem to determine), but because all sinful adhesion by affection to creatures being annihilated, then they remain (as to the soul) only in that true being which they have in God, by dependence on Him and relation to Him, so that He is all in all; whereas, whilst we sinfully adhere unto them by staying in them with love, we carry ourselves towards them as if we thought them to have a being or subsistence of and in themselves, and not of God only; and that they might be loved for themselves without reference to God, which is the fundamental error and root of all sin.
10. All sensible operations formerly exercised, yea, all ex-
11. But these are secrets of divine love, which, except by experience they be tasted, can in no sort be comprehended. Blessed are those souls that thus lose themselves that they may find themselves! This loss is so infinitely gainful, that it is cheaply bought with all the anguishes of mortification, all the travails of meditation, and all the aridities, obscurities, and desolations attending the prayer of the will: this loss is the design of all these exercises and labours, this is the fruit of all divine inactions. We mortify our passions, to the end we may lose them; we exercise discursive prayer by sensible images, to the end we may lose all use of images and discourse; and we actuate immediately by operations of the will, to the end we may arrive to a state of stability in prayer above all direct exercises of any of the soul's faculties: a state wherein the soul, being oft brought to the utmost of her workings, is forced to cease all working, to the end that God may operate in her, so that till a soul be reduced to a perfect denudation of spirit and a deprivation of all things, God doth not enjoy a secure and perfect possession of it.
12. And thus by God's assistance we have passed through
the several degrees of prayer, according to which, especially, the
stations and degrees of an internal life are to be measured; we
have endeavoured (it is to be hoped not altogether unprofitably)
with all simplicity and perspicuity to declare the order and
changes of them. If God, by the means of our prayers, give us
the grace and courage to proceed de virtute in virtutem, accord-
The blessed spirit of Prayer rest upon us all. Amen. Amen.
AN ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER.
DEAR CHRISTIAN READER,There was intended (and accordingly promises were made in two or three passages of the precedent Treatises) that hereto should be adjoined an Appendix consisting of a few chapters of several subjects; as: 1. A brief description of the nature, faculties, and operations of an intellectual soul (the knowledge of which may be conceived very expedient for the unlearned, to enable them the better to comprehend many passages in this book, both touching temptations and prayer, &c.). 2. A discourse to prove that it is no prejudice or disparagement to divine charity to love God for a reward, so that such a reward be the blessed enjoying of Himself, and not any inferior ends, pleasing to sense, &c. 3. A protestation (which in one word is here made) against the least intention of reflecting with censure or disparagement upon the ways or doings of others (whether directors or disciples) in the matter of Prayer, or any other good practices taught or used by them, as considered in themselves, and much more against all thought of decrying any ceremonious or solemn observances practised in or by any Communities, &c. The venerable Author of these instructions being of a spirit too full of charity and spiritual prudence, and too adverse from so mean an ambition, as to seek the procuring an esteem to himself or his own writings by the depressing of others. So that whensoever he gives any advices or cautions touching such matters, his intention only is, that the purifying of the soul and the exalting of Prayer should not be prejudiced by the foresaid practices: the which, whether indeed they be prejudicial hereto or no, only superiors are to be judges. 4. An answer to certain objections made by some, since the venerable Author's death, against the publishing of these instructions, especially touching Divine Inspirations.
These are the principal points that the author of this Abridgment
purposed to annex here at the end of the Third Treatise. But
certain pressing occasions obliging us to hasten the publishing of
this present work, and likewise an unwillingness that it should at
first swell to too great a proportion and bulk, for these reasons it
I will detain thee no longer (devout Reader) but only to tell thee, that if by God's Grace these instructions prove instrumental to the teaching or promoting thee in pure Prayer, my hope is thou wilt not in thy prayers be unmindful of the poor unworthy author of this Abridgment.
A POSTSCRIPT TO THE READER.
BELOVED CHARITABLE READER,
To recompense with some advantage the want of a promised
Appendix, which was to have contained certain discourses framed
by the unworthy author of this methodical Abridgment, for a clearer
(though not necessary) explication of a few passages in the foregoing
Treatises, I here present unto thee the Testimonies and Approbations
of the doctrine here delivered, given by two of the most learned
and pious fathers of our Congregation, famous through all Christendom
for the more than ordinary eminency of their endowments, to
wit, the Very Rev. F. Leander a Sancto Martino, and the Very
Rev. F. Rudesind Barlow,* 7 both Doctors in Divinity, and who had
several times been Presidents-General of our holy Congregation, &c.
The which Approbations they gave first voluntarily, upon the request
of the Venerable Author, and submission of his writings to their
judgment; and a second time by the commission and order of the
General Chapter assembled at Douay, A D. 1633, in which an attempt
had been made by a certain Religious Father to cast some aspersions
From hence, beloved Reader, thou wilt perceive and canst not but give thy testimony and approbation also to the prudent care expressed by our holy Congregation, not to permit any books of this nature even to the private reading and use of their religious subjects, till all possible circumspection and diligence had first been used, that nothing therein should be contained that might produce the least danger, prejudice, or inconvenience. And after all this, way was not given to a publishing the said books, till twenty years were passed, when in a General Chapter assembled in A.D. 1653, at Paris, the VV. RR. Fathers, perceiving the many blessed fruits proceeding from the said writings, to the advancement of all regular duties of solitude, humility, obedience, and devotion, especially in the Convent of our RR. Dames of Cambray and elsewhere; and, moreover, finding that many among the Secular Clergy in England, yea, that several devout persons of the laity, both men and women, did, to the wonderful profit of their souls, make use of some of the said Treatises, and not any one appearing that did make any opposition at all to any part of the doctrine;--on these and the like grounds by unanimous agreement (nemine contradicente) it was ordered, `that a Methodical Abridgment of the spiritual instructions dispersed throughout the numerous Treatises of the late Venerable F. Augustine Baker should, for the good and benefit of souls, be exposed to the public.'
To the said Approbations I will adjoin a short discourse written
for the satisfaction and encouragement of the Religious Dames of
Cambray, by the foresaid most R. Father Leander a S. Martino, and
by him called `A Memorial,' in which he briefly explains the principal
advices delivered by our Venerable Author: as likewise a
scheme of the doctrine of Divine calls and Inspirations, at one glance
THE APPROBATIONS FOLLOW.
The first books written by our Venerable Author were certain collections out of several spiritual writers, which he entitled with the letters A, B, C. After which he composed himself several Treatises, the which he entitled with the following letters, D, F, G, H, &c.
Now the first of these, viz. D, consisting of about 300 Aphorisms, in which is contained the sum of spiritual doctrine, or Directions for Contemplation, has these Approbations: Legi et approbavi hunc Libellum pro usu Monialium nostrarum. Ego Fr. LEANDER, S. Theol. Doctor et Prior Sancti Gregorii, hujus Monasterii B. Mariae de Consolatione Ordinarius indignus. Augusti 17, 1629.
Again in the Reexamination. Allowed.Br. LEANDER. Br. ROSENDO.
Again. Lectus est hic libellus, et admissus et approbatus a me Fr. Leandro de S. Martino, pro usu Monialium nostrarum.
F. LENDER de S. Martino, Ordinarius.
To the book F, (being the second part of Directions for Contemplation and) treating of certain erroneous opinions frequent in these days; also of matters of Confession in a Spiritual Life: together with a Catalogue of choice spiritual books, &c.
THE APPROBATIONS.
This second part of Directions for Contemplation is not only lawful to be read, but necessary to be known of such as be not instructed in a Spiritual Life, to the end they may learn something here, and know where to learn more, and to perform their obligations without trouble of mind and loss of time to themselves and others.
F. LEANDER de S. Martino, Prior S. Gregorii, ejusdem
Ordinis et Congr. Ordinarius Monialium.
B. ROSENDO BARLOW, President of the English
Congregation of the Order of St. Bennet.
To the book G (the third part), of varieties of Contemplations, &c.
THE APPROBATIONS.
I have read over diligently this book, and find it in all points
worthy of allowance, full of very wholesome doctrine, and fit for our
spirit and calling. And therefore I do allow of it for the use of our
This book, called Directions for Contemplation, the third part, is a brief sum of what is largely handled by the best mystic authors that write of this subject, and therefore worthy to be read, and read again. B. ROSENDO BARLOW, President of the English Congregation of the Holy Order of St. Bennet.
To the book H, treating of Purity of Intention, Custodia Cordis, and of Meditation on tla Passion.
THE APPROBATIONS.
This fourth part of Directions for Contemplation is replenished with passing good documents, and very fine explications of the nature and effects of Prayer, and therefore most serviceable to such as seriously seek a perfect course of life. Doway, 24 Dec. 1629. F. LEANDFR de S. Martino, Prior of St. Gregories, ejusd. Ord. et Congr.B. ROSENDO BARLOW, President of the English Congr. of the Order of St. Bennet.
To the first part of Doubts and Calls are
THESE APPROBATIONS.
I have carefully read over these three Books of Doubts and Calls, and find them to contain nothing against Faith or good order: but rather very many necessary and secure Instructions and rules for the Direction of internal Prayer; all conformable to the teaching of the best Masters of Spirit that have written of these matters. May 12, 1630. F. LEANDER de S. Martino, Prior of the English Benedictines of S. Gregories in Doway.Again,Item probatus a me F. LEANDRO, Praeside Congregationis, 1634, Aprilis 4.
To the second part of Doubts and Calls are
THESE APPROBATIONS.
This book, called The second part of Doubts and Calls, may lawfully be read: It containeth nothing but that which is true and profitable to the Reader. 4 Jan. 1630. B. ROSENDO BARLOW, President of the English Congregation of the Order of S. Bennet.
Seen and allowed, as containing very profitable and necessary Doctrine, according to the Spirit and vocation of our Rule. 7 Sept. 1629. F. LEANDER de S. Martino, Prior of S. Gregories, and Ordinary of the Monastery of Our Ladies of Comfort in Cambray. Again, Item approbavi. F. LEANDER de S. Martino, Praeses Cong., 1634. Apr. 4.
To the third part of Doubts and Calls are
THESE APPROBATIONS.
Seen and allowed as containing very profitable and wholesome Doctrine, fit and agreeable to the vocation of our Rule. 7 Sept. 1629. F. LEANDER de S. Martino, Prior of S. Gregories, and Ordinary of the Monastery of Our Ladies of Comfort. in Cambray.
Again, This Treatise of Doubts and Calls is a very good one. 1630. B. ROSENDO BARLOW, President of the English Congregation of the Order of S. Ben.
To the Book of Confession (the Original whereof is lost, but a
Perfect transcript remaining) is
THIS APPROBATION.
I have read this Book, and have found nothing in it against Faith or Good manners. For although the Author dispute much against the urging of Confession of Venial sins, as unnecessary to Spiritual profit: yet he doth not in any sort condemn the discreet use of frequent Confession of Venial sins but only the needless renumeration of them and of daily defects, which cannot be used without great loss of time and anxiety of mind. In testimony of this I subscribe my Name at Cambray. 17 Sept. 1629. B. RUDISIND BARLOW, President of the English Congregation of the Order of S. Bennet.
Besides these many more Approbations might be added annexed by the same VV. RR. FF. to other Books: as to that of Discretion; of Sickness; Directions for the Idiot's Devotions (contained in 16 several Books), Remedies; The Stay of the Soul in Temptations, in two volumes; A Book called The Five Treatises; The Alphabet and Abstract, etc.
But I made choice only of the fore-mentioned, because they treated
of subjects more likely to meet with contradiction. Supposing,
therefore
A MEMORIAL
WRITTEN BY THE LATE V. R. F. LEANDER A S. MARTINO, AND
PLACED IN THE BOOK OF COLLECTIONS.
I have read over carefully the book A, B, C, and the Alphabet and Abstract, as also the three parts of Doubts and Calls, besides divers other Treatises of the same Author, in all which are to be seen my Approbation and allowance in the beginning of them. They do all contain very sound and wholesome doctrine for the direction of devout souls, and fit and agreeable to our calling and Rule, and especially for the use of our Dames; the spirit of our Holy Rule consisting principally in a spiritual union of our soul with God in affective Prayer, and exercise of the will immediately upon God, rather than intellectual and discursive Prayer, busying the understanding, as appeareth plainly by our Rule, and the daily use of our Choir Office, which for the most part consisteth of Aspirations and Affections, and hath very few discourses.
Yet because the Author referreth the Dames his scholars to his larger explication by word of mouth in many places, and to his practice in which he settled them, both which cannot be known but by those who knew the Author; and this mystic way, though most plain, most secure, and most compendious to perfection, containeth many hard and delicate points, which will seem most strange to such as have been only accustomed to intellectual Meditation, and little to affective Prayer, by reason of the great abstraction which it requires from all things that are not God; lest the ensuing confessors and directors should mistake the meaning of the Author, and thereupon alter the course of prayer begun and settled in the house (as we hope, to the glory of God and spiritual profit of souls in perfection proper to our calling), I have thought it convenient to note these few points following.
First of all, that the reader of these books and collections have
always before his eyes, that they are written precisely and only for
such souls as by God's holy Grace do effectually and constantly
dedicate themselves to as pure an abstraction from creatures as may
with discretion be practised in the Community; and consequently
for such as abstain from all manner of levity, loss of time, notable
and known defects, vain talk, needless familiarity, and in a word do
take as much care as they can to avoid all venial sins and occasions
Secondly, let him consider that it is supposed as a ground in all those collections and observations, that the Office of Choir, and actions of obedience, and conventual acts, and all other things prescribed by Rule and statute, are most exactly to be kept and observed: yea, preferred before all other private exercises whatever. So that all these instructions are to be understood always with reservation of the conventual discipline and public observance prescribed by obedience.
Particularly let the reader observe a note which is given in one
of these books, and found but in few spiritual writers, yet necessary
for those religious that are addicted to the Choir, viz. that although
the Author commendeth so highly mental Prayer, yet that Prayer
which is perfectly mental and vocal too is far more excellent than
that which is mental only; as will be the exercise of the Saints in
heaven after the Day of Judgment, when in body and soul they
shall praise and contemplate Almighty God. Whereupon it
followeth, that although in this life our frail and weak body
hindereth our soul, so that our Prayer cannot be so perfectly mental
and vocal as it shall be in heaven, yet must our mental Prayer be
so practised, that by the Grace of God and loyal perseverance in
union with Him, our vocal Prayer in Choir may be converted into
mental, that is, that our vocal saying and singing may be so lively
animated, as it were, and informed with affect of the soul, as if it
were altogether spiritual Prayer. And so shall we fulfil the words
of our Rule: Nihil praeponatur operi Dei,--Let nothing be preferred
before the Office of the Choir. Whereas in divers places the Author
saith that all bodily exercises, even frequenting the Sacraments,
without mental Prayer and abstraction and mortification, do not
advance the soul one jot in spirit, although it be plain enough to
them that know these three instruments of spiritual perfection,
yet lest any should mistake his meaning, as if these former exercises
did not profit a soul at all, without these instruments practised by
few, out of the former advices the reader must understand that by
`Advancement in spirit' is meant here, not the bare avoiding of
grosser sins and some perfection too in active life, which is gotten
by these bodily exercises, but a clear and experimental knowledge
of the will of God, and a spiritualising of the soul by adhering to
God, and transcending all creatures whatsoever; for this do the
mystic doctors call `Advancement in spirit'; and this cannot be
attained unto but by the above three named instruments continually
practised and employed by God's Grace. Which notwithstanding,
the Author denieth not, but that a soul without the foresaid exercises
may so profit in spirit (as active souls do that live in worldly manner),
that they carefully avoid sin and keep God's commandments, and
About the doctrine of Confession: whereas the Author disputeth much against the using of Confession of venial sins, as necessary to spiritual profit, it is to be understood that he doth not in any wise condemn the discreet use of frequent Confession, but only the needless enumeration of venial sins and daily defects which some souls do make in their confessions with great anxiety of mind, and which some confessors do oblige their penitents unto, with great prejudice of that cheerful liberty of spirit which a soul should have to converse with God in Prayer, and is commonly a cause of scruples, one of the greatest banes of spiritual perfection. So that for souls that are by nature prone to fear and scrupulosity, the director must of necessity moderate them both in the frequency of Confession, and the matter to be confessed. Yea, he may advise them to confess fewer times than other freer souls do. Otherwise for souls that are cheerful and valiant and courageous in the way of the Spirit, the Author obligeth them in his practice to keep the ordinary time of Confession; much more those that are not so careful in avoiding occasions of ordinary defects; I say, he obligeth them in such sort as the Constitutions oblige, which is not under any sin, as if they should sin as often as they omit the ordinary time of Confession; but as a laudable counsel and profitable observance, which under a penalty and regular correction is to be kept, and not omitted but by advice from the spiritual father, or leave of the Superior.
Note also that he doth worthily advertise a defect of many who come to Confession, making the principal intention of it only the absolution from sin. I say this is a defect, because the principal part of the intention must be the increase of Grace and love of God, by which, formally infused or poured into ourselves, God Almighty doth blot out sins and wipe them away. Now although absolution from sin is never given without infusion of Grace, yet ought the intention of the penitent to be principally the obtaining of Grace; for if he principally intend the absolution from sin, it is a reflection of the soul upon its own profit by self-love, desiring to avoid the wrath of God and punishment due to sin, and to be freed from the deformity of guiltiness; which, though it be a good desire, yet is but a property of beginners in love, and nothing comparable to the intention of Grace, which is the perfect love of God, and is an elevation of the soul to transcend itself and all creatures, to live only in God.
About the doctrine of set Examinations of Conscience, the
Nevertheless a set examen is profitable for such as are not yet come to such a height of unitive love, and is counselled by our Father Blosius in divers places, and by St. Bernard in his book to the Carthusians in these words: Nemo te plus diligit, nemo te fidelius judicabit, &c.--that is, `None loves thee more, none will judge thee more faithfully, than thine own self.' In the morning, then, exact an account of the night past, and appoint thyself a caution for the day ensuing. At evening take account of the day past, and order the course of the night following. Thus strictly examining thyself, thou wilt find no leisure to play wanton. And long before St. Bernard, the holy Abbot St. Dorotheus commends the same exercise (Serm xi.) as usual amongst all monks: Quo pacto per singulos dies nosipsos purgare, &c.--that each night every one ought to inquire diligently with himself how he has spent the day, and each morning how he spent the night, and let him do penance and renew himself before God, if, as is possible, he may have sinned. And long before him St. Ephrem, who lived only 250 years after Christ our Lord's Passion, hath the commendation of a set examination, exhorting that each day, morning and evening, we should diligently examine whether we have earned our wages.
Neither doth our Author discommend this set examen, but the
defective use of it, which is: first, to make it in order to Confession,
which doubtless in a soul well advanced breedeth needless images,
since such a soul will call to mind what sufficeth for her ordinary
confession without this examen. Second, too much particularising
of our defects: which is likewise distractive, it being sufficient to
examine the performance of our duty and obligatory actions, or if
Let none likewise be scandalised at that which is said, that there be higher exercises than Meditation on the Passion; and that it is not always the profitablest way to busy our soul in that object. For since our Religious hear ordinarily two Masses, or at least one daily, in that they do actually celebrate the memory of our Saviour's Passion; and at divers other times they have leisure to think lovingly thereupon, that they need not in all their recollections take that only object; especially since their manner of Prayer is more by act of will, than by consideration of the understanding; and (as is very well declared in one place) all their recollections and actions that have any other special object are virtually intended in honour of our Saviour's Passion.
What is said about passive Contemplation, that it is rather received into the soul than produced or wrought by our own action or endeavour, is most true; supposing always that this reception of it in our soul is a vital operation (which, whether it be called an action of the soul or a mere passion, is a school question and nothing to our purpose). Certain it is that by all our own power we could not produce it, and therefore it is called the Inaction of God in our soul by many mystics, to which we only concur by vitally receiving it, and by a willing consent to let God work His Will in us.
What is said about the immediate operation of God in the very
essence and substance of our soul, and not in the powers thereof,
nor by meditation of the powers, although it be against the general
Lastly, the vehement urging that great heed be taken in the choice of a confessor and director in these mystic ways of God is necessary, and not intended to the dispraise of any, nor to the disabling of such as perhaps have not all the qualities required. But it seems especially for two ends: the one for an advertisement to the directors and confessors that they presume not to judge or proceed rashly in the directing of our Religious, but according to these cautions and instructions; especially if they themselves have not been accustomed to this affective Prayer of the will. And we do conjure them in behalf of our Saviour Christ to cherish this way, and to set it forward as the peculiar exercise belonging to our spirit and calling; yet so as intellectual prayer be not altogether neglected in the occasions which in these books are sufficiently assigned. The other end is to cut off a dangerous curiosity which women used to have of desiring to confer upon their interior with every learned or devout man they hear of; which is a very great defeat, and by those vehement persuasions of our Author very deservedly and warily prevented. And although St. Teresa did give way to this universal communication of interior to divers learned men, and commended it to her daughters, yet we are credibly informed that in her latter days with tears she hath said, that by it occasion was given to discontented minds to vent forth their disgusts, with harm to themselves and the Community. Therefore, out of this point let the Religious resolve to communicate their interior to their lawful superiors, and to directors by them appointed, who will have care that the spirit of Prayer be not extinguished or hindered in them by any unskilful or heedless guides. Thus much we thought convenient to note under our hands in commendation of these holy instructions, and for a caution and warning to future confessors and spiritual directors.
F. LEANDER de S. Martino, Prior of St. Gregory in Douay, and Ordinary of the Cloister of the Dames of our Lady of Comfort in Cambray, of the Holy Order of St. Benedict.
ln the last place I will adjoin a scheme clearly and at once representing the sum of the Ven. Author's Doctrine, of Divine Calls, composed by the same V. R. F. Leander de S. Martino.
Whatsoever action or omission occurs unto us in all our life, what occasion soever of doing, forbearing, suffering, or receiving from God or any creature, is of such condition, that either
1. It hath some exterior rule commanding it, or forbidding it, which is to be esteemed undoubtedly as the Call of God; and in all such occurrences
1. The exterior rule is to be faithfully kept and practised, in the performing or omitting the action occurring.
2. The interior Call is likewise as carefully to be kept and practised, in the mnnner of omitting or performing; that it may be done or omitted, with the true spirit and life of Grace, by the exercise of the will.
Or 2. It hath no exterior rule allotted to the occurrence at that time, and is otherwise against no exterior rule of lawful authority: as certainly an infinity of such things happen and occur in time of silence and rest, in our cells; being alone in our labour, recreation, refection, c&c.: and in such cases
1. If it be extraordinary in matter, as long fasting, much watching, &c.; or in manner, as if it be ecstatical or in some strange manner of illumination or inspiration unaccustomed or unwonted to the soul, it is not to be practised till it be examined and allowed by the ordinary exterior rule; yet in no sort to be neglected, but remembered and noted for use and direction, when occasion occurreth in ourselves or others.
2. If it be ordinary in matter and manner, neither implying any inconvenience nor notable singularity, then is the inward Call in a spiritual and true-minded soul a sufficient and secure guide, and ought to be carefully observed and obeyed, lest otherwise the soul ungratefully take God's graces in vain, and so be worthily deprived of them.
After the above written paper there follows this in Father Baker's own hand
The doctrine of Divine Calls here above expressed by our Reverend Father, Father Leander de S. Martino, being at the present our worthy President, I do profess to be the self-same in substance (and by my intention) which more largely, but less sufficiently, I have expressed and delivered in divers books and treatises that are of my penning concerning that subject.
CERTAIN PATTERNS
OF
DEVOUT EXERCISES
OF
IMMEDIATE ACTS AND AFFECTIONS
OF
THE WILL.
TO THE DEVOUT READER.
DEVOUT READER,
According to promises made in several passages of the
foregoing Instructions (especially in the second and third chapters of
the third section of the Third Treatise), I here have provided for
thee a sufficient number of exercises of holy Affections and Acts of
the Will, &c.; in the first place beginning with devout exercises upon
the Life and Sufferings, &c., of our Saviour, consisting of almost all
sorts of Acts and Affections, to wit, of Contrition, Humiliation,
Resignation, Love, &c.
2. Now though the said exercises be more sublime and perfect than some others that follow, to wit, those of Fear, Hatred of Sin, Remorse, Reflections upon the Quatuor Novissima, &c., yet have I placed them first, because they are a kind of exercise of Meditation (the lowest degree of internal Prayer), and may be proper enough for such well-disposed souls as by means of some unknown natural indisposition are incapable of practising Meditation, according to the common laborious method and rules. They may likewise be useful and proper for souls also that are advanced to the second degree of internal Prayer, viz. that of immediate Acts of the Will.
3. It was not needful to divide these into several distinct exercises, as those that follow. Therefore the devout soul that shall practise them may in each recollection make use of as many good affections or acts in them as will suffice; and in the following recollection begin where she last ended (observing the directions prescribed in the precedent instructions touching internal Prayer of immediate Acts of the Will).
4. Now it is not to be supposed that, in annexing these exercises, we have any intention to confine the readers and practisers of these directions unto them; for in practice each one is to make use of such acts as are most relishing to his spirit, whether composed by the exerciser himself, or found in this or any other book. And particularly the books most proper to be made use of for the Prayer of immediate Acts or Affections of the Will are, St, Augustine's Confessions, Soliloquies, &c.; the Imitation of Christ (especially the third book); the Divine Exercises of Eschius, in Latin, and likewise long since translated into English and enlarged by Doctor Peryn; the Actus Virtutum of Blasius Palma; Paradisus Animae; the Igniarium Divini Amoris of Blosius, &c.
HAIL, JESUS;
OR ACTS UPON THE LIFE AND PASSION OF OUR
SAVIOUR JESUS CHRIST:
Which contain in them Acts of almost all Kinds of Prayer, as
Contrition, Resignation., Love, &c.
1. HAIL, Sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who for my sake hast vouchsafed to come down from Thy royal seat, and from the mellifluous bosom of Thy Divine Father, into this valley of misery, and to be incarnate and made man by the Holy Ghost in the most chaste womb of the most sacred Virgin Mary;
2. Choose, I beseech Thee, my heart for Thy dwelling-place; adorn it, replenish it with spiritual gifts, and wholly possess it.
3. O that I were able, by profound humility, to unite Thee to it, and with an ardent affection to receive Thee; and after having received Thee, to retain Thee with me!
4. O that I were so fastened unto Thee, that I might never depart or turn away my mind from Thee.
5. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who hast vouchsafed to be born of Thy Virgin Mother, poor and passible, without any pain or detriment to her virginity, in a poor stable;
6. Whom, being born, she humbly adored.7. O that it were Thy will to be continually born in me by a uew fervour of spirit,
8. And that I may be wholly burnt with the fire of Thy love!9. O that Thou wort the only comfort, desire, and solace of my heart!
10. O that I sought after Thee alone, thought on Thee alone, and loved Thee alone!
11. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who, being born in the depth of winter, didst not refuse to be swaddled in poor clothes, and weeping to be laid in a manger, and as a little infant to be nourished at Thy Mother's breast;
12. I adore Thee, most dear Redeemer, King of angels.13. Hail, Prince of Peace, Light of the Gentiles, and most desired Saviour;
14. Grant, O Lord, that I may always stand in Thy sight, truly humble and truly poor in spirit;
15. Grant that for Thy holy name's sake I may willingly endure all kinds of mortification, and may love nothing in the world besides Thee, nor wish to possess anything but Thee.
16. Hail, sweet Jesus; whom the celestial legions of angels did honour, newly born, with joyful praises; and the shepherds, devoutly seeking and finding, adored with admiration;
17. Grant that I may joyfully, without tediousness, persevere in Thy service and praises.
18. Hail, sweet Jesus, who wouldst upon the eighth day, like other children, be circumcised, and, being yet an infant, shed Thy Precious Blood;
19. And for our singular comfort wouldst be called JESUS, which signifieth a Saviour:
20. O that it would please Thee to admit me, circumcised from all bad thoughts, words, and works, into the number of Thy children!
21. Thou, O Lord, art called Jesus, that is to say, a Saviour: be Thou therefore my Saviour, and save me.
22. Hail, sweet Jesus, whom the sages, with a devout seeking, found by the direction of a star, and having found, most humbly adored,
23. Offering unto Thee gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh;
24. Grant, O Lord, that with these blessed men I may
always seek and adore Thee in spirit and truth;
25. Grant that I may offer daily unto Thee the gold of bright shining charity, the frankincense of sweet-smelling devotion, and the myrrh of perfect mortification.
26. Hail, sweet Jesus, who for our sake wouldst be subject to the law, and, to give us an example of humility, wouldst be carried to the temple by Thy Blessed Mother, and be redeemed with an offering ordained for such as were poor;
27. Where just Simeon and Anna the Prophetess, rejoicing greatly at Thy presence, gave very glorious testimony of Thy dignity:
28. O that all pride were utterly thrown down in me!29. O that all desire of human favour and itch of self-love were cooled and cured in me!
30. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who, staying in the temple, wert for the space of three days with great grief sought by Thy devout Mother, and at length with great joy found by her sitting in the midst of the doctors, hearing them and proposing questions to them:
31. Would to God Thou wouldst give and communicate Thyself in such sort unto me, that I might never be separated from Thee, nor ever be deprived of Thy comfort!
32. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, for the space of thirty years remaining unknown, hast vouchsafed to be reputed the son of Joseph the carpenter and of his wife the Blessed Virgin Mary;
33. Let Thy grace, I beseech Thee, pluck up and utterly root out of the fund of my soul all pride and ambition:
34. O that I may delight to be unknown, and to be esteemed vile and base!
35. Hail, sweet Jesus, who hast not disdained to come to the river Jordan, and entering into it to be baptised by Thy servant John the Baptist;
36. I would, through Thy merits, I might become most clean and pure, even in this life.
37. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, for our sakes abiding amongst wild beasts in the desert, and fasting forty days and forty nights, and persevering in prayer, hast permitted Thyself to be tempted by Satan;
38. And overcoming him, hast been honoured with the ministry and service of angels;
39. Give me grace that I may chastise and subdue my flesh, with all the vicious affections thereof;
40. Give me grace that I may constantly persevere in prayer and other spiritual exercises;
41. Let no temptation, I beseech Thee, defile me, but rather let temptations purge me and unite me unto Thee.
42. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, to the end Thou mightest gather together the dispersed children of God, hast vouchsafed to preach penance, to call disciples, and out of them to choose twelve Apostles to he eminent preachers of Thy faith;
43. Draw me after Thee, and powerfully stir up my heart to love Thee;
44. Grant that I may adhere to Thee alone. Amen.45. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who for me host suffered many afflictions, heat, cold, hunger, thirst, labours, and miseries;
46. Grant that I may receive from Thy hand cheerfully all kinds of adversity.
47. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, thirsting for the conversion of souls, hast passed whole nights in prayer,
48. Hast been wearied with travelling, last passed from country to country, from city to city, from town to town, from village to village;
49. Let Thy love make me quick and ready to all good things, that I be never slothful in Thy service;
50. Grant that everywhere I may have a zeal for Thy honour, and employ myself wholly in Thy service.
51. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who, conversing with men, hast vouchsafed most willingly to comfort them, and by many miracles most mercifully to cure their maladies and diseases;
52. Give me a devout heart full of affection and compassion, whereby I may pity other men's afflictions, and may have as great feeling of their miseries as if they were my own;
53. Whereby also I may bear patiently with all men's im-54. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who hast not shunned the company of publicans and sinners, but hast afforded them Thy most loving familiarity and ready pardon of sins, to Matthew, Zacheus, Mary Magdalen, and to the woman taken in adultery, and to the rest that were repentant;
55. Grant that I may embrace all men with cheerful love and charity;
56. May readily forgive those who offend me;
57. May perfectly love those who hate me.
58. Hail, sweet Jesus, who for my soul's sake bast suffered many injuries, many blasphemies, many reproaches, and infinite abuses from those on whom Thou hadst bestowed many benefits;
59. Give me a heart truly innocent and simple, that I may sincerely love my enemies and unfeignedly pity them;
60. And rendering good for evil may, through perfect charity and meek patience, perfectly please Thee. Amen.
61. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who, coming to Jerusalem in a meek and gentle manner, didst ride upon an ass, and amidst the praises which were sung by the people who came to meet Thee didst pour forth tears, bewailing the ruin of the city and destruction of those ungrateful souls:
62. O that I might never be delighted with the praises and favours of men;
63. But always be profitably employed in internal tears of compunction and devotion!
64. Hail, sweet Jesus, whom Judas, the treacherous disciple, sold for a little money to the Jews who persecuted Thee and conspired Thy death;
65. Root out of my heart all evil desires of transitory things;
66. Grant that I may never prefer anything before Thee.
67. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee,
O Christ, who in Jerusalem, according to the law, didst eat the Paschal lamb with Thy disciples, and giving them an example of humility and holy charity, kneeling upon the ground, didst wash their feet, and having washed them didst wipe them with a towel:
68. Would to God this example might pierce my heart, and utterly throw down in me all pride and loftiness!
69. Give me, O Lord, a most profound humility, by which I may without difficulty cast myself at all men's feet.
70. Hail, sweet Jesus, who with an unspeakable charity hast instituted the Sacrament of the Eucharist, and with a wonderful liberality hast in it given Thyself to us;
71. Stir up in me a desire and enkindle in the interior of my soul a vehement thirst of this most venerable Sacrament;
72. Grant that when I come to this table of life I may with a chaste affection, singular humility, and perfect purity of heart receive Thee.
73. Hail, sweet Jesus, who immediately before Thy Passion didst begin to fear, to grieve, and be sad, taking upon Thyself our weakness,
74. That by this Thy infirmity thou mayest comfort and strengthen those that tremble at the expectation of death;
75. Preserve me, I beseech Thee, as well from vicious sadness as from foolish joy;
76. Grant that all the grief I have hitherto sustained may redound to Thy glory and the remission of my sins.
77. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, falling upon the ground, prayedst unto Thy Father, and humbly offeredst up Thyself wholly unto Him, saying, `Father, Thy will be done;'
78. Grant that in all necessities and tribulations I may have recourse unto Thee by prayer;
79. That I may give and resign myself wholly to Thy will;80. That I may with a quiet mind receive all things as from Thy hands.
81. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who, being in an agony, didst pray very long;
82. And being Creator of heaven and earth, the King of
83. Grant that in all adversity and desolation, in all tribulation and affliction, I may seek comfort from Thee only,
84. And that I may find help and assistance at Thy hand
85. O that I could in all events wholly rely on Thee,
86. And leave myself wholly to Thy Fatherly care!
87. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, by reason of the greatness and vehemency of Thy grief, hadst Thy Body moistened all over with a bloody sweat:
88. O that all the parts of my interior man would sweat out holy tears of contrition!
89. Hail, sweet Jesus, who of Thine own accord offeredst Thyself to be taken by Judas the traitor, and Thine other enemies thirsting after Thy blood, and desiring Thy death;
90. Grant, for the honour of Thy name, I may not fly adversities,
91. But may cheerfully go to meet them,92. And joyfully receive them, as precious tokens sent from Thee;
93. And humbly and constantly endure them as long as it shall please Thee.
94. Hail, sweet Jesus, who didst lovingly kiss the traitor Judas coming deceitfully to Thee;
95. Showing, by the calmness of Thy countenance and sweetness of Thy words, that Thou didst love him;
96. Grant that I may show myself loving and mild to all my enemies;
97. That I may pardon them from my heart, howsoever they shall offend me;
98. And tolerate and love them as the ministers of Thy will and promoters of my salvation.
99. Hail, sweet Jesus, who didst permit Thine enemies most furiously to lay their sacrilegious hands upon Thee;
100. And, being cruelly bound by them, didst not revenge but mildly endure the reproaches, blasphemies, and injuries wherewith they did most wickedly affront Thee:
101. O that, being freed from the bonds of vice, I may be fast tied to Thee with the sweet chains of love!
102. O that Thou wouldst bestow upon me the grace of true patience! Amen.
103. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who didst restore and heal the ear of Malchus, one of Thy furious persecutors, cut off by Peter, Thy chief disciple;
104. That so, rendering good for evil, the riches of Thy mercy and mildness might shine forth to us;
105. Grant, I beseech Thee, that the desire of revenge may never have place in my heart;
106. Grant that I may bear intimate compassion and affection towards all such as offend me;
107. Strengthen my too great weakness, and make steadfast my too great inconstancy, with the most strong support of Thy grace.
108. Hail, sweet Jesus, who sufferedst Thyself to be led, bound as a malefactor and thief, by a troop of soldiers unto Annas, and to be presented before him
109. O unspeakable mildness of my Redeemer!
110. Behold, whilst Thou art taken, whilst Thou art drawn, whilst Thou art haled, Thou dost not complain, Thou dost not murmur, Thou makest no resistance;
111. Grant, O Lord, that these examples of Thy virtues may shine in me to my good and everlasting glory.
112. Hail, sweet Jesus, King of heaven and earth, who, standing, humble, like a base and abject person, before the proud High-priest, didst with great modesty receive a cruel blow given Thee upon the Face by one of his servants;
113. Suppress, I beseech Thee, in me all motions of anger and wrath; dull all the stings of indignation, and extinguish all desire of revenge;
114. That, even provoked with injuries. I may not be troubled;
115. That I may not strive or make any tumult;
116. But, suffering all things with a meek and patient mind,
117. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who didst suffer Thyself to be shamefully led bound to Caiphas, that Thou mightest restore us to true liberty, freeing us from the bonds of everlasting death;
118. Grant that in the very midst of derisions and contumelies I may give Thee thanks with all my heart,
119. And that by them I may be advanced in Thy love.
120. Hail, sweet Jesus, whom Peter the chief of the Apostles thrice denied; and yet Thou most mercifully lookedst upon him, and provokedst him to repentance and holy tears for his offence:
121. O that it might please Thee in like manner to look upon me with that lovely eye of Thy mercy!
122. That, with due tears of repentance, I may bewail my past sins;
123. And having bewailed them, may not hereafter any more return to them again.
124. Hail, sweet Jesus, who with a pleasing countenance and modest look, standing before the priests and the elders of the people of the Jews, didst not disdain to be falsely accused and suffer many injuries;
125. Grant that I may never utter any falsity or calumniate any man;
126. But may suffer such calumnies as are laid against me with great tranquillity of heart;
127. And, referring all difficulties to Thee, with silence I may expect Thy grace and comfort.
128. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, whilst Thou didst make profession of the truth, affirming Thyself to be Son of God, yet didst Thou not disdain to be esteemed a blasphemer;
129. Grant that in all places and before all men I may stand to the truth, and in awe of the presence of Thy Divinity and Majesty I may not fear the censures and judgments of men.
130. Hail, sweet Jesus, who by the wicked Jews wast proclaimed guilty of death, and without cause condemned;
131. That by Thy unjust condemnation Thou mightest de-
132. Grant that I may reject all sinister and rash suspicions;
133. That I may suffer, without any bitterness of heart, all such wrongful detractions and wicked judgments as others shall devise against me;
134. And that on all occasions I may retain, by the help of Thy grace, a quiet and untroubled mind.
135. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who for my sake wast made the disgrace and scorn of men, and the outcast of the people;
136. And didst not turn away Thy sacred Face, which the angels desire to behold, from the filthy spittle of Thy adversaries;
137. Grant that I may imitate Thy meekness and patience.
138. Hail, sweet Jesus, who didst vouchsafe to be most cruelly beaten and buffeted, and most unworthily reproached and reviled for my sake;
139. Grant, I beseech Thee, that I may never refuse to be despised and to be reputed base and vile,
140. And that, according to Thy permission, I may be contented to be exercised with all kinds of injuries;
141. That I may receive them, not as from men, but from Thee, and of Thy Fatherly mercy.
142. Hail, sweet Jesus, who didst permit Thyself to be mocked and scoffed, and Thy lovely Face (which to behold is the chiefest happiness), for Thy greater derision, to be blindfolded;
143. Grant that, the veil of ignorance being taken away, I may be endued with the knowledge of Thy will;
144. Imprint in my heart a continual remembrance of Thee;
145. Thou knowest, O Lord, how hard a thing it is for me to suffer, though never so small a matter;
146. Out of Thy mercy, therefore, assist my frailty, that I may not cowardly fall or faint at the coming of any adversity.
147. Hail, sweet Jesus, who didst permit Thyself (being
mocked and bound) to be led to the profane tribunal of Pilate
148. Grant that I may be truly subject to my superiors and all powers over me ordained by Thee;
149. That I may obey my equals, and love and honour all men;
150. Grant that I may not fear other men's judgments of me, but may receive them with a ready and meek mind. Amen.
151. Hail, sweet, Jesus, who, standing before Pilate, didst Humbly hold Thy peace, whilst the Jews did wrongfully accuse and calumniate Thee:
152. Grant, O Lord, that I may never be troubled at other men's slandering me,
153. But that I may with silence overcome all injuries;
154. Give me the perfect grace, of humility, by which I may neither desire to be praised nor refuse to be contemned;
155. Grant that I may imitate Thy innocency and patience;
156. That I may both live well, and, living well, be contented to be ill spoken of and despised.
157. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, with great exclamations and much noise of people, like a most heinous malefactor wast drawn from tribunal to tribunal, from Pilate to Herod, through the midst of the city;
158. Grant that I may not be dejected with any injuries of my enemies,
159. And that I be not much ashamed of contempt,
160. To the end that, by Thy gracious assistance, I may possess my soul in patience.
161. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who, by Thy silence condemning Herod's vain desire, wouldst not, without good cause and for a good end, delight his curious eyes by working a miracle; and didst thereby give us a lesson to avoid ostentation in the presence of great men;
162. Pour into my soul Thy spirit of profound humility;
163. Mortify and extinguish in me all tickling of vain glory:
164. Grant that I may not seek to gain the praises of men, but do all and purely for Thy honour and glory.
165. Hail, sweet Jesus, who didst not disdain to be scoffed at by Herod and his whole army, and to be clothed in a white garment, like a fool or a madman;
166. Grant that I may rather choose to be reputed base and abject with Thee than glorious with the world;
167. That I may esteem it better and more worthy to suffer disgrace for Thy love, than to shine in the vain honour of the world;
168. Grant that, knowing thoroughly my own unworthiness, I may grow base in my own conceit, and despise, reprehend, and bewail myself.
169. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, being compared with the notorious thief Barabbas, wast judged more wicked and more worthy of death than he:
170. The murderer is set at liberty, and the impious Jews demand Thy death, who art the Author of life;
171. Thou art indeed that Living Stone rejected by man but chosen by God:
172. O that I may prefer nothing before Thee, nor change Thee for anything!
173. O that I could esteem all things as dung and filth, to the end I might gain Thee!
174. Grant, O Lord, that the blot of envy may never stain my soul.
175. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, being stripped naked in the palace and bound to a pillar, didst suffer Thy naked and most immaculate Flesh to be rent with most cruel scourges, that with Thy sores Thou mightest heal our wounds:
176. O amiable Jesus, I make choice of Thee, covered with stripes, for the spouse of my soul,
177. Desiring to be inflamed and burned with the fire of Thy most sweet love;
178. Strip my heart naked, I beseech Thee, from all indecent cogitations;
179. Grant that I may now patiently suffer the scourges of Thy Fatherly correction. Amen.
180. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee,
181. For they clothed Thee, the King of Glory; with a purple garment for Thy greater affront;
182. They fastened upon Thy divine head a crown of thorns;
183. They put into Thy hands a sceptre of a reed, and, kneeling down in a scornful manner, saluted Thee, saying, `Hail, King of the Jews!'
184. Plant, I beseech Thee, in my heart the memory of Thy Passion;
185. Let scorn for Thy sake be my glory, and injuries and affronts my crown.
186. Hail, sweet Jesus, who didst not refuse for my sake to be beaten with a reed, to be buffeted, to be spit upon, and to be the object of all kinds of derision;
187. I beseech Thee, by Thy wounds, by Thy Blood, by Thy disgrace, and by all the grief and sorrow Thou sufferedst for me, to endow my soul with all Thy patience and graces;
188. That Thou wouldst convert me and all I have to Thy everlasting praise and glory.
189. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, being defiled with spittle, rent and disfigured with stripes, bound and wholly miserable, wast brought forth as a spectacle to the enraged people, wearing a crown of thorns and a robe of purple;
190. Grant that with my heart I may utterly tread under foot, and have in detestation, all ambition, ostentation, worldly pomp and vanity, and all earthly dignity;
191. That, by profound humility and true contempt of myself, I may incessantly run towards the glory of Thy heavenly felicity.
192. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, being declared innocent by Pilate the judge, didst not refuse to hear the furious outcries of the Jews, by which they demanded that Thou shouldst be crucified;
193. Grant that I may live innocently, and not be troubled by reason of other men's evil will towards me;
194. Give me this grace, that I may neither backbite other men, nor willingly give ear to those that do it;
195. But that still I may have a good opinion of others, and bear other men's imperfections with a true compassion;
196. And love all men for God and in God with a pure, sincere, and cordial affection.
197. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who didst permit Thyself in the presence of Thy people to be unjustly condemned to the most ignominious death of the cross,
198. That Thou mightest free us from the sentence of eternal death;
199. Grant that I may seek Thy honour, and rather choose to be exercised with Thee in adversity, than by forsaking Thee to enjoy the commodities of life.
200. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, with many disgraces and injuries offered Thee, didst carry Thy cross with great pain upon Thy sacred and torn shoulders,
201. And, being weary and breathless, didst languish under the burden;
202. Grant that, with fervent devotion, I may embrace the cross of my own abnegation,
203. And with an ardent charity imitate the example of Thy virtues,
204. And may humbly follow Thee unto death.
205. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, in that lamentable journey in which Thou wentest to Thy death, didst meekly admonish the women, that they should bewail themselves and their children;
206. Give me acceptable tears of compunction, with which I may truly bewail my sins and my own ingratitude;
207. Give me tears of devout compunction and of holy love, which may melt my hard heart, and make it grateful unto Thee,
208. That I may love Thee alone, and rest in Thee only.
209. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who, having Thy shoulders bruised with the weight of the cross, didst at length arrive weary at the place of execution,
210. Where wine, mingled with gall, was offered Thee to refresh Thy languishing strength:
211. O that Thou wouldst extinguish in me the allurements of gluttony and the concupiscence of the flesh,
212. And cause in me an aversion and horror of all impure and unlawful delights;
213. And that I may eat and drink soberly to the glory of Thy name,
214. That I may hunger and thirst after Thee alone,
215. And in Thee place my delight and joy!
216. Hail, sweet Jesus, who didst not disdain to be stripped naked upon Mount Calvary in the sight of the people,
217. And to suffer a most bitter pain by Thy sores, renewed with the pulling off Thy clothes;
218. Grant that I may love poverty of spirit, and not be troubled with any worldly want;
219. Grant that by Thy example I may endure and suffer any corporal necessities or calamities whatsoever.
220. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, being naked, didst not refuse to be rudely stretched out upon the wood of the cross, and cruelly fastened with nails unto the same;
221. In this manner Thou didst suffer Thy innocent hands and delicate feet to be most grievously wounded, and all Thy sacred joints to crack and be put out of joint;
222. Grant me, O Lord, that with a faithful and grateful mind I may consider this Thy unspeakable charity, with which of Thy own accord Thou didst stretch forth Thy arms, and willingly offer Thy hands and feet to be pierced;
223. Vouchsafe, O Lord, to enlarge and extend my heart with the perfect love of Thee;
224. Pierce it, and fasten it unto Thyself with the most sweet nail of charity;
225. And all my senses, cogitations, and affections enclose only on Thee.
226. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to
Thee, O Christ, who didst hang (Thy hands and feet being
pierced) three hours upon the shameful wood of the cross, and,
227. Lift up, I pray Thee, upon the wood of Thy cross, my miserable soul grovelling on the ground
228. O healthful Blood, O reviving Blood!
229. O that Thou wouldst purge and thoroughly heal me, being washed with this Thy Precious Blood !
230. O that Thou wouldst offer this Thy Blood to Thy Father for a perfect satisfaction of all my iniquities!
231. Grant, I beseech Thee, that mine inward man may, with ardent affection, mentally receive the lively drops of Thy Precious Blood, and may truly `taste how sweet Thy Spirit is.'
232. Hail, sweet Jesus, who wast so good even to those that were so wicked, that for the very same persons who did crucify Thee Thou didst pray unto Thy Father, saying, `Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do;'
233. Give me, I beseech Thee, the grace of true meeknes and patience, by which I may, according to Thy commandment and example, love my enemies,
234. And do good to those that hate me;
235. I heartily pray unto Thee for those that hurt and persecute me.
236. Hail, sweet Jesus, who wouldst that the title written in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin (as it were the trophy of Thy victory) should be fastened to the cross, that we beholding it might courageously fight against our invisible enemies;
237. Protect me, under this title, against the wiles and deceits of the devil:
238. Teach me, under this title, to overcome all temptations, and to subdue all vices;
239. That, having by grace conquered them, I may freely praise and glorify Thy holy name. Amen.
240. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, whose garments the soldiers divided amongst themselves, but did leave Thy coat, which was without seam (and signifieth the unity of the Church), undivided;
241. Pour down into my heart, I beseech Thee, the spirit of peace and union,
242. That I may never, through my fault, divide or trouble the concord and union of my brethren;
243. But that I may always endeavour to repair divisions and pacify troubles.
244. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, suffering upon the altar of the cross incomprehensible torments and ineffable anguishes, wert shamefully reproached and scorned by the Jews, who vomited out of their wicked mouths sundry blasphemies against Thee;
245. Grant, O Lord, that, being mindful of Thy humility, patience, and mildness, I may quietly and cheerfully suffer pain, disgrace, persecution, infamy, &c.,
246. And may remain with Thee nailed to the cross even to the end;
247. Let no violence of temptation, no storm of adversity, no tempest of contumely, hinder me from effecting my good purposes;
248. Let not death, nor life, nor things present nor to come, nor any creature separate me from Thy love.
249. Hail, sweet Jesus, who didst tolerate one of the thieves to upbraid Thee, and didst most mercifully and bountifully promise the glory of Paradise to the other, who humbly acknowledged his own injustice, and with a devout faith confessed Thee to be his King and God;
250. Behold me, I beseech Thee, with those eyes of mercy which Thou didst cast upon the thief repentant for his sins:
251. O that, by Thy holy help and grace, I may lead a life so innocent, that I may faithfully serve Thee and purely love Thee!
252. That at the end of my life I may deserve to hear, most merciful Redeemer, that most desired voice, `This day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.'
253. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, from the cross beholding Thy most sweet Mother full of grief and tears, with inward compassion didst commend her to Thy disciple John, and again John to her, and us all in John unto Thy said Mother;
254. Grant that I may love and honour her with a most chaste and ardent affection;
255. That, having her for my Mother, I may deserve also to be acknowledged by her for her son;
256. Grant that in all necessities, and especially at the hour of my death, I may find her present assistance.
257. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who in a most pitiful manner, hanging upon the cross with wide gaping wounds, didst profess Thyself to be destitute of all comfort;
258. Grant that with a firm confidence I may always have recourse to Thee, my most merciful Saviour, in all adversities, temptations, and desolations,
259. And wholly distrusting myself, I may trust in Thee alone,
260. And commit and resign myself entirely to Thee;
261. Wound the intime of my soul with the remembrance of Thy wounds;
262. Imprint them in my heart, and make my spirit even drunk with Thy Sacred Blood;
263. That I may attend to Thee, and Thee only seek, find, hold, and possess.
264. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, panting upon the cross, Thy Body being drawn dry for want of Blood, becamest very thirsty, and didst burn with an unspeakable desire of our salvation;
265. Grant that I may ardently thirst after Thy honour and the salvation of souls,
266. And may with courage employ myself in this affair;
267. Grant that I may not be hindered nor entangled by any transitory thing.
268. Hail, sweet Jesus, who wouldst that a sponge dipped in vinegar and gall should be offered Thee to drink, being then thirsty even to death, that by taking thereof Thou mightest satisfy for our gluttony and leave us an example of poverty;
269. Give me grace to despise unlawful pleasures and avoid all excess in meat and drink;
270. Also to use those things moderately which Thou givast for the sustentation of the body;
271. Pacify the inordinateness of my desires, that whatsoever doth please Thee may please me, and whatsoever displeaseth Thee may be displeasing also to me.
272. Hail, sweet Jesus, most enamoured of mankind, who, duly performing the work of our redemption, didst offer up Thyself upon the altar of the cross a holy sacrifice for the expiation of the sins of all men;
273. Be Thou, I beseech Thee, the scope of all my thoughts, words, and works,
274. That in all things I may with a right and simple intention seek Thy honour;
275. Grant that I may never grow cold nor faint in Thy service;
276. But that fervour of spirit may be renewed in me, and that I may daily more and more be inflamed to praise and love Thee. Amen.
277. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who of Thy own accord didst embrace death, and recommending Thyself to Thy Heavenly Father, bowing down Thy venerable head, yieldedst up Thy Spirit;
278. Truly thus giving up Thy life for Thy sheep, Thou hast shown Thyself to be a good Shepherd;
279. Thou didst die, 0 Only-begotten Son of God; Thou diedst, O my beloved Saviour, that I might live for ever:
280. O how great hope, how great confidence have I reposed in Thy Death and Thy Blood!
281. I glorify and praise Thy holy name, acknowledging my infinite obligations to Thee;
282. O good Jesus, by Thy bitter Death and Passion, give me grace and pardon;
283. Give unto the faithful departed rest and life everlasting.
284 Hail, sweet Jesus, at whose death the sun withdrew his light, the veil of the Temple was rent asunder, and the monuments opened;
285. O Sun of Justice, permit not, I beseech Thee, that the beams of Thy grace at any time forsake me;
286. But let them continually enlighten the inmost parts of my soul;
287. Withdraw wholly from me the veil of hypocrisy;
288. Shake the earth of my soul with wholesome repentance;
289. Rend my stony heart,
290. That, being wholly renewed, I may contemn all transitory things, and love only that which is eternal.
291. Hail, sweet Jesus, who wouldst that Thy side should be opened with a soldier's lance,
292. And out of it pour blood and water to revive and wash our souls;
293. Thou wouldst, 0 my best Beloved, that Thy mellifluous Heart should be wounded for me;
294. O that it might please Thee to make a most deep wmand in my heart with the lance of Thy love,
295. And unite it to Thy most Sacred Heart,296. In such manner that I may have no power to will anything but that which Thou wilt!
297. Bring in, O my Lord, bring in my soul, through the wound of Thy side, into the bosom of Thy charity and the treasure-house of Thy Divinity,
298. That I may joyfully glorify Thee, my God, crucified and dead for me. Amen.
299. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who sufferedst all that the malice of men or devils could devise;
300. Behold, with as much devotion as possibly I can, I salute the five principal Wounds of Thy blessed Body.
301. Hail, ruddy, glorious, and mellifluous Wounds of my Redeemer and my King!
302. Hail, glorious seals of my reconciliation and salvation!
303. I humbly desire to abide and be hidden in you, and be by that means secure from all evil.
304. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, being with great lamentations
of Thy friends taken down from the cross, wouldst be anointed
305. Bury, I beseech Thee, all my senses, all my forces, and all my affections in Thee,
306. That, being joined to Thee by efficacious love, I may become insensible in respect of all other things.
307. Hail, sweet Jesus, who hast vanquished the power of the devil, and, powerfully and lovingly in soul descending into hell, didst make joyful with Thy presence the Fathers there detained,
308. And didst translate them thence at Thy glorious Ascension to the delightful garden of the celestial Paradise and to the clear vision of God;
309. Let the virtue of Thy Passion and Thy Blood descend now, I beseech Thee, into Purgatory, upon the souls of my parents, kinsfolks, friends, benefactors, and all the faithful departed,
310. That, being delivered from pains, they may be received into the bosom of eternal rest.
311. Hail, sweet Jesus, who like a conqueror with glorious triumph didst arise out of Thy closed sepulchre,
312. And, revested with Thy lovely countenance, didst replenish Thy friends with new joy and gladness;
313. Grant, O Lord, that, leaving the old paths of my wicked conversation, I may walk in the newness of life,
314. And seek and savour those things which are above in heaven, and not those things which are here upon earth,
315. To the end that when Thou my life shalt appear at the last day, I may appear with Thee in glory.
316. Hail, sweet Jesus; praise, honour, and glory be to Thee, O Christ, who, forty days after Thy Resurrection, didst gloriously ascend into heaven in the sight of Thy disciples, where Thou sittest on the right hand of Thy Father, blessed for evermore:
317. O that my soul might always languish on earth, and ascend and aspire towards heaven!
318. May it hunger and thirst always after Thee!
319. Hail, sweet Jesus, who didst give Thy Holy Ghost
320. And didst send them to teach all nations throughout the whole world;
321. Cleanse, I beseech Thee, the interior of my heart;
322. Give me true purity and constancy of mind, that the Holy Ghost nay find a grateful habitation in my soul,
323. And may replenish me with the special gifts of His grace;
324. May comfort, strengthen, fill, govern, and possess me.
325. Hail, sweet Jesus, who, coming as a Judge at the last clay, wilt render unto every one according to his works, either punishment or reward;
326.0 my most merciful Lord God, grant that according to Thy will I may so innocently pass the course of this miserable life,
327. That, my soul departing out of the prison of my body, I may be vested with Thy merits and virtues,
328. And be received into Thy everlasting joy,
329. And with all the Saints I may bless and praise Thee for ever.
330. Hail, sweet Jesus, whom I have most grievously offended all the days of my life;
331. Alas, I have never ceased to be ungrateful to Thee, resisting Thy grace in divers manners, and always adding new faults unto my former;
332. Behold, 0 my sweet Refuge; behold me, the outcast of all creatures, bringing with me nothing but bundles of sins;
333. I prostrate myself at the feet of Thy mercy, and humbly implore pardon and remission;
334. Pardon, I beseech Thee, and save me, for Thy name's sake;
335. For I believe and am assured that no sins are so grievous and heinous but, by the merits of Thy most Sacred Passion, may be forgiven and, washed away. Amen.
PSALMUS DE PASSIONE D. N. JESU CHRISTI.
1. MEMOR ero ab initio mirabilium tuorum Domine: et misericordias Tuas in aeternum cantabo.
2. Tu splendor Paternae gloriae, et figura substantiae Ejus, Teipsum exinanisti, formam servi accipiens.
3. Parvulus natus es nobis, et Filius datus es nobis: quia Tu es qui mittendus eras, Tu es expectatio Gentium.
4. Pauper factus es, et in laboribus a juventute Tua: expandisti manus Tuas tota die ad populum incredulum.
5. Omnes nos quasi oves erravimus: et posuit Dominus in Te iniquitatem omnium nostrum.
6. Tacebas consternatus super faciem Tuam: et vultus Tuus haerebat terrae.
7. Non remansit in To fortitudo: sed et species Tua immutata est in Te.
8. Rubrum factum est vestimentum Tuum: quia torcular calcasti solus.
9. Vere languores nostros Ipse tulisti: et dolores nostros Ipse portasti.
10. Circumdederunt Te canes multi: concilium malignantium obsedit Te.
11. Homo pacis Tuae, qui edebat panes Tuos, magnificavit super Te supplantationem.
12. Amici Tui et proximi Tui a longe steterunt: et vim faciebant qui quaerebant animam Tuam.
13. Tu spiritus oris nostri, Christe Domine: captus es in peccatis nostris.
14. Data sunt super To vincula et ligabant Te in eis: et noti Tui quasi alieni, recesserunt a Te.
15. Dedisti percutienti Te maxillam: saturatus es opprobriis.
16. Suscitatur falsiloquus adversus faciem Tuam: Tu redemisti eos, et ipsi locuti sunt contra Te mendacia.
17. Hostis Tuus terribilibus oculis intuitus est Te: et quasi Agnus coram tendente se obmutuisti.
18. Aperuerunt super Te ora sua: et exprobrantes percusserunt maxillam Tuam.
19. Corpus Tuum dedisti percutientibus: et gonas Tuas vellentibus.
20. Faciem Tuam velarunt: quia portentum dedit Te Dominus domui Israel.
21. Abominati sunt Te: et faciem Tuam conspuere non verebantur.
22. Inquilini domus Tuae, sicut alienum habuerunt Te: et quem maxime diligebas adversatus es Te.
23. Contumelia et tormento interrogaverunt Te: morte turpissima condemnaverunt Te.
24. Astiterunt reges terrae, et principes convenerunt in unum, adversus Christum Domini.
25. Quae ignorabas interrogabant Te: Tu vero tacuisti, semper siluisti, patiens fuisti.
26. Dorsum Tuum fabricaverunt peccatores, prolongaverunt iniquitatem suam.
27. Sicut ovis ad occisionem ductus es: factus est principatus super humerum Tuum.
28. Egredimini filiae Sion: videte Regem Salomonem in diademate quo coronavit illum Mater sua.
29. Cui comparabo te Virgo filia Jerusalem: magna est enim velut mare contritio tua: quis medebitur tui?
30. Recordare Domine, paupertatis et nuditatis: absinthii et fellis.
31. Federunt manus Tuas et pedes Tuos: dinumeraverunt omnia ossa Tua.
32. Abjectionem Te posuit Dominus in medio populi Tui, et cum sceleratis deputatus es.
33. Ipsi consideraverunt et inspexerunt Te: Diviserunt sibi vestimenta Tua, et super vestem Tuam miserunt sortem.
34. Dederunt in escam Tuam fel: et in siti Tua potaverunt Te aceto.
35. Plauserunt super Te manibus omnes transeuntes per viam: sibilaverunt inimici Tui, et moverunt caput suum.
36, Dixerunt, Devorabimus: en ista est dies quam expectabamus; invenimus, vidimus.
37. Omnia luminaria coeli moerere fecisti: et dedisti tenebras super terram.
38. Occidit sol in meridie; et tenebrescere fecisti terram in die luminis.
39. Tradidisti in mortem animam Tuam; abscissus es de terra viventium: propter scelus populi Tui percussus es.
40. Circumdederunt To lanceis suis: consciderunt To vulnere super vulnus.
41. Lapsa est in lacum vita Tua: et posuerunt lapidem super Te.42. Requiescens accubuisti ut leo: et quasi leaena; quis suscitabit Te?
43. Tu quoque in sanguine testamenti Tui emisisti vinctos Tuos de lacu, in quo non est aqua.
44. Quantas ostendit tibi Pater tribulationes, multas et malas? et conversus vivificavit Te, et de abyssis terrae iterum reduxit Te.
45. Ascendisti in altum, cepisti captivitatem, dedisti dona in hominibus: etenim non credentes inhabitare Dominum Deum.
46. Ecce quomodo dilexisti me: facta es at mors dilectio Tua.
47. Te laudent coelum et terra: quia To decet laus, O expectatio Israel, Salvator ejus in die malorum.
48. Memor esto verbi Tui servo Tuo: in quo mihi spem dedisti.
49. Dixisti enim: Ego si exaltatus fuero, omnia traham ad Meipsum.
50. Ecce exaltaris super coelos Deus: trahe nos ad Te: curremus in odorem unguenturum Tuorum. Amen.
HOLY EXERCISES OF CONTRITION.
AN ADVICE TO THE READER.
THESE following Exercises of Contrition are useful and proper first, for such devout souls as, being naturally indisposed for discursive prayer, are consequently obliged to begin an internal course of prayer with such immediate acts or affections. Such, therefore, at the beginning, may do well to make these Exercises of the purgative way the entire subject of their recollections, until they find that, remorse ceasing, they are enabled for the following Exercises of Love, &c.
Secondly, these Exercises may be useful also for souls that have made a greater progress in the prayer of immediate acts; but this is when, by occasion of some sin committed, they judge it fit to raise contrition in their hearts for it. In which case it will not be necessary that their whole recollection should be spent in these acts; but it will suffice to exercise one or two of them at first, and to employ the remainder of the time in their usual former matter of prayer.
The First Exercise.
1. Who will give to mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I may bewail both day and night my sins and ingratitude towards God my Creator?
2. Consider (O my soul) the multitude of the benefits that God hath bestowed upon thee, and be thou confounded and ashamed of thy wickedness and ingratitude.
3. Consider who thy Creator is, and who thou art; how He hath behaved Himself towards thee, and how thou towards Him.
4. Thou hast made me, O Lord, when I was not; and that according to Thine own image.
5. Thou from the very first instant of my being bast been
My God,
My Father,
My Deliverer, and
All my Good.
6. Thou, with the benefits of Thy providence, hast preserved my life even till this present. O, let it be spent in Thy service!
7. But because these things, O gracious Lord, cost Thee nothing, to bind me more fast to Thee, Thou wouldst need give me a present bought by Thee most dearly.
8. Thou hast come down from heaven, to seek me in all those ways in which I had lost myself. O, draw up my soul unto Thee!
9. Thou hast exalted and made noble my nature by uniting it in One Person with Thy Divinity.
10. By Thy captivity Thou hast loosed my bonds, and by delivering Thyself into the hands of sinners Thou bast delivered me from the power of the devil; and by taking upon Thee the form of a sinner Thou hast destroyed my sins.
The Second Exercise.
1. These things Thou didst to allure and bind me unto Thee, and to strengthen my hope.
2. To make me detest sin, by beholding what Thou hast done and suffered to overthrow the kingdom of sin.
3. And also that, being overcome and overwhelmed with the multitude of Thy benefits, I should love Him who did so much for me, and loved me so dearly.
4. Behold, O God, Thou hast redeemed me; but what had this availed me if I had not been baptised? Among so many infidels as are in the world Thou hast brought me to Thy Faith and Baptism.
5. There that covenant was made that Thou shouldst be
mine, and I Thine; Thou my Lord, and I Thy servant; Thou
6. What shall I say of the other Sacraments which Thou hast instituted for remedies of my evils, making a plaster for my sins of Thine own most Precious Blood!
7. Having these helps, yet have I not remained in goodness; but my wickedness hath been so great, that I have lost my first innocency.
8. And Thy mercy on the other side is so great, that Thou hast patiently hitherto expected me.
9. O my hope and Saviour, how can I without tears call to my remembrance how oftentimes Thou mightest justly have bereaved me of my life?
10. To Thee, therefore, be given the glory which is due; and to me shame and confusion of face, as it is this day.
The Third Exercise.
1. How many thousand souls now peradventure burn in hell, who have less sinned than I, and yet I burn not there!
2. What had become of me, if Thou hadst taken me away when Thou tookest them?
3. Who then, O Lord, bound the hands of Thy justice? who held the rod of Thy judgments when I by sinning provoked Thee?
4. What pleased Thee in me that Thou didst deal more mercifully with me than with others?
5. My sins cried unto Thee, and Thou stoppedst Thine ears. My malice every day increased against Thee, and Thy goodness every day increased towards me.
6. I was wearied in sinning, and Thou wast not wearied in expecting.
7. In the midst of my sins I received from Thee divers good inspirations, which I neglected.
8. What shall I now render, O Lord, unto Thee, for all these benefits which I have received of Thee I because Thou hast given me Thyself, what shall I render to Thee?
9. If all the lives of angels and men were mine, and that I
10. Who, therefore, will give tears to mine eyes, that I may bewail my ingratitude and wicked retribution or requital of these Thy so many benefits? Help me, 0 Lord, and give me grace, that I may worthily bewail mine iniquities.
The Fourth Exercise.1. My God, I am Thy creature, made according to Thy image; take away from me that which I have made, and acknowledge that which Thou hast made.
2. I have bent all my forces to do Thee injury, and have offended Thee by the works of my hands.
3. The things which Thou hast given and created for me, to be employed and used for Thy service and honour, I have wrongfully and most unthankfully converted and employed the same to Thy offence and dishonour.
4. My feet have been swift to evil, and my eyes have been dissolute to vanity, and mine ears have been always open to trifles and toys.
5. My understanding, which should have contemplated Thy beauty and have meditated both day and night on Thy commandments, hath considered transitory toys and meditated day and night how to transgress Thy said commandments.
6. My will was by Thee invited to the love of celestial delights and delicacies ; but I preferred the earth before heaven.
7. Alas, what can I, a wretch, answer, if Thou enterest with me into judgment, and wilt say: I have planted thee a chosen vineyard, all true seed; how then, O strange vineyard, art thou turned in My sight into that which is depraved?
8. I have not only been ungrateful for Thy benefits, but used Thy benefits also themselves as weapons against Thee.
9. Thou hast made all creatures for my use, to allure me to love Thee; I have abused them, and of them have divers times taken occasion of sin. I have made choice rather of the gift than the Giver.
10. What shall I say? Wherefore have not all the calamities and miseries which I have known to have fallen upon other men, and touched not me, been a sufficient argument to me that my delivery from every one of them was a peculiar benefit from Thee?
The Fifth Exercise.
1. But if a most strict account shall be demanded for these things which cost Thee so little, what account wilt Thou ask of those which Thou hast bought Thyself with Thy most Precious Blood?
2. My God, how have I perverted all Thy counsels for my salvation!
3. How have I violated the mystery of Thine Incarnation!
4. Thou wert made man to make me partaker of the Divine Nature. I have made myself a beast and the slave of the devil.
5. Thou hast come down to the earth to bring me to heaven; and I have not hearkened to or acknowledged this high vocation, but have persevered in wickedness and in the mire of my baseness.
6. Thou hast made me one body with Thee; and I have joined myself again with the devil.
7. Thou hast humbled Thyself even to the dust of the earth; I puff myself up with pride.
8. Thou wouldst die to kill my sins; and I, presuming in Thy said mercy, goodness, and love, have not feared to sin against Thee. What greater impiety can be imagined?
9. I have taken occasion of Thy goodness to work malice; and by that means which Thou hast used to kill sin, I have taken occasion to raise again sin in myself.
10. Because Thou wert so good, I thought I might without prejudice be evil. Woe to mine ingratitude! And because Thy benefits were so many, I thought I might without punishment render unto Thee as many injuries.
The Sixth Exercise.
1. Thus have I made Thy medicines occasions of sin, and I
have turned that sword, which I received of Thee to defend my-
2. Thou diedst, that they that now live may not live to themselves, but unto Thee.
3. O most patient Lord, who for sinners hast suffered buffets, but far more patient in suffering sinners, will this Thy patience endure for ever towards me? What shall I do, my Lord I what shall I do? I confess I am not worthy to appear in Thy sight nor to behold Thee. Whither shall I fly from Thy face?
4. Art not Thou my Father, and in very truth a Father of mercies which have no end or measure?
5. What, then, shall I do, but cast myself down at Thy feet,
and humbly crave mercy? Art not Thou
My Creator?
My Preserver?
My Redeemer?
My Deliverer?
My King?
My Pastor?
My Priest? and
My Sacrifice?
6. If Thou repellest me, who will receive me? If Thou rejectest me, of whom shall I seek succour?
7. Behold, I come full of wounds; Thou canst heal me: I come all blind; Thou canst give me sight: I come all dead; Thou canst raise me: I come all full of leprosy; Thou canst make me clean.
8. Thou shalt sprinkle me, O Lord, with hyssop (with Thy Precious Blood shed for me), and I shall be made clean.
9. Thou, O God, who art able to do all things, convert me unto Thee; renew my spirit, enlighten my understanding, sanctify my will, increase my strength of body and soul, that I may depend only on Thee, fear and love Thee above all things, and serve Thee fervently; and that in all my affections hereafter I may conform myself to Thy blessed will and pleasure.
10. I beseech Thee, finally, to impart unto me Thine abundant
effectual grace, by which I may be able to begin to lead
The Seventh Exercise.
1. Take pity, O Lord, take pity, O merciful Saviour, of me, most miserable sinner, doing things of blame, and worthily suffering for the same.
2. If I ponder the evil which I daily commit, that which I endure is nothing in comparison of it.
3. Thou, O Lord our God, art just and full of goodness, neither is there in Thee any wickedness.
4. Because when we offend, Thou dost not unjustly and cruelly afflict us; who when we were not, hast powerfully made us; and when for our sins we were guilty of damnation, Thou hast by Thy wonderful mercy and goodness set us in the state of salvation.
5. I know, O Lord God, and am assured that our life is not governed by uncertain chances, but wholly disposed and ordered by Thy awful power and providence.
6. Wherefore I humbly beseech Thee, that Thou wilt not deal with me according to my iniquities, by which I have deserved Thine anger, but according to Thy manifold mercies which surmount the sins of the whole world.
7. Take pity on me, Thy son, whom Thou bast begotten in the great grief of Thy Passion; and do not so attend to my wickedness that Thou forget Thy goodness.
8. Is it possible for a woman to forget the child of her own womb? And though she should forget, O most loving Father, Thou hast promised not to be unmindful.
9. Truly it is better for me not to be at all, than to be without Thee, sweet Jesus.
10. It is better not to live, than to live without Thee, the only true life.
The Eighth Exercise.
1. Woe to me at the Day of Judgment, when the books of
our consciences shall be opened (wherein our actions are regis-
2. Alas, what shall I say? I will call and cry unto Thee, O Lord my God; why am I consumed being silent?
3. Weep, O my soul, and make lamentation, as a young married woman for the death of her husband.
4. O anger of the Almighty, rush not upon me, for I cannot subsist against Thee.
5. Take pity on me, lest I despair of Thy mercy; that by despairing of myself, I may find comfort in confiding in Thee.
6. And albeit I have done that for which Thou must justly condemn me, yet Thou past not lost Thy accustomed property of showing mercy and pity.
7. Thou, O Lord, dost not desire the death of sinners, neither dost Thou take pleasure in the perdition of those that die.
8. Nay, rather that those who were dead might live, Thou Thyself hast died; and Thy death hath been the death that was due to sinners; and they by Thy death are come to life.
9. Grant me, I beseech Thee, O Lord, that Thou living I may not die; since that Thy death hath given life, much more let Thy life give life.
10. Let Thy heavenly hand help me, and deliver me from the hands of those that hate me, lest they insult and rejoice over me, saying, We have devoured him.
The Ninth Exercise.
1. How is it possible, O good Jesus, that ever any one can despair of Thy mercy? who, when we were Thine enemies, hast redeemed us with Thy Precious Blood, and hast reconciled us to God.
2. Behold, O Lord, protected by Thy mercy, I run, craving pardon, to the throne of Thy glory, calling and knocking until Thou take pity on me.
3. For if Thou past called us to pardon, even when we did not seek it, how much more shall we obtain pardon if we ask it!
4. Forget my pride provoking Thee to displeasure, and weigh my wretchedness imploring Thy favour.
5. O Saviour Jesus, be Thou my succour and protection, and say unto my soul, I am thy Salvation.
6. I do presume very much on Thy bounty, because Thou Thyself dost teach us to ask, seek, and knock at the door of Thy mercy.
7. Thou therefore, O Lord, who willest me to ask, grant that I may receive. Thou dost counsel me to seek; grant me likewise to find. Thou dost teach me to knock; open unto me, knocking at the door of Thy mercy.
8. Behold, besides my heart I have nothing else to give Thee; neither can I give Thee this without Thee. Take me, therefore, and draw me unto Thee, that so I may be Thine by imitation and affection, like as I am by condition and creation, who livest and reignest world without end.
9. O Lord God Almighty, who art Trinity in Unity, who art always in all things, and wert before all things, and wilt be in all things everlastingly, one blessed God for all eternity;
10. To Thee, this and all the days of my life, I commend my soul, my body, my seeing, my hearing, taste, smell, and touching; all my cogitations, affections, words, and actions; all things that I have without and within me; my sense and understanding; my memory, faith, and belief; and my constancy in well-doing; all these I commend into the hands of Thy powerful protection, to the end that all the nights and days, hours and moments of my life, Thou mayest preserve and direct me.
The Tenth Exercise.
1. If Thou, O Lord, examine my righteousness, I shall be found as a dead man, stinking through rottenness.
2. But if Thou behold me with the eye of Thy mercy, Thou wilt thereby raise me (being through sin but a carcase) from the sepulchre of mine iniquity.
3. Whatsoever Thou- hatest in me, O Lord, expel and root out of me.
4. Bestow on me, O Lord, Thy fear, compunction of heart, humility, and a conscience free from all sin.
5. Grant me grace, O Lord, that I may be always able to
6. Visit me weakened;
Cure me diseased;
Refresh me wearied;
Raise me dead.
7. Grant me, O Lord, a heart that may fear Thee, a mind that may love Thee, a sense that may conceive Thee, eyes that may see Thee.
8. Give me, O Lord, discretion to be able to discern betwixt good and evil, and endue me with an understanding ever watchful.
9. O Mary, Mother of God, Mother of Jesus Christ our Lord, thou sacred and unspotted Virgin, vouchsafe to make intercession for me unto Him who made thee a worthy temple for Himself to dwell in.
10. Be pleased to pray for me, a poor sinner, unto our God; that I may be delivered from the furious jaws of the infernal fiend, and from that death which never shall have end.
The Eleventh Exercise.
1. O most mild and merciful Lord and Saviour, Son of the living God, the world's Redeemer, amongst all men and in all things I confess myself to be a miserable sinner.
2. Nevertheless I beseech Thee, most sweet and sovereign Father, that as an abject I may not be cast out of Thy favour.
3. Yea, rather, O Lord, Thou who art King of kings, and hast determined and decreed the length of each man's life, grant me a devout desire to amend mine.
4. Stir up my sluggish soul, to the end that at all times and in all things it may seek, desire, love, and fear Thee, and may put in practice that which is pleasing to Thee.
5. I most humbly and heartily beseech Thee (who art Alpha and Omega, the beginning and ending), that when the time is come I must die, Thou wilt be a mild and merciful Judge, and a perpetual protector to me against the accusations and snares of the devil, mine old adversary.
6. Admit me for ever into the society of the holy Angels and of all Thy Saints in Thy heavenly city, where Thou art blessed and praised for all eternity.
7. O hope of my heart, O strength of my soul, may it please Thy omnipotent goodness to accomplish what my wonderful great weakness doth attempt to perform, seeing Thou art my life and the scope of my intention!
8. And albeit hitherto I have not deserved to love Thee so much as I ought, yet such is my desire that I would most gladly do it.
9. Grant me to accomplish and perform Thy holy inspirations.
10. Transform, most sweet Saviour, my tepidity into a most fervent love of Thee. For the only thing I desire to attain unto by this my prayer is, that I may be able to love Thee with a most ardent affection.
ACTUS CONTRITIONIS, &c.
ET DE IV. NOVISSIMIS.
1. Exercitium Contritionis.
1. INFELIX ego homo, quis me liberabit de corpore mortis hujus?
2. Heu quam multa habeo quae defleam! cum nihil sit unde merito gaudeam.
3. Ah Domine Deus meus, quid unquam fiet de me cum deficiam quotidie, et non desinam offendere Te!
4. Quando resurgam? putasne mortuus homo rursum vivet?5. Domino ante Te omne desiderium meum, et gemitus meus a Te non est absconditus.
6. Cur non tollis peccatum meum? Nam sicut onus grave gravatae sunt super me iniquitates meae; et non potero ut viderem.
7. Si Tu praeterieris, Domine, quis miserebitur mei: aut quis alligabit vulnera mea?
8. Numquid voluntatis Tuae est mors impii? Nonne miserationes Tuae super omnia opera Tua.
9. Quid dicam Tibi, O immensa bonitas? Peccavi, sed parce mihi: et noli me damnare, qui pro me condemnari voluisti.
10. Volo ego quidem servire Tibi: sed sine Te non valeo: Tu ergo qui dedisti velle, da perficere.
2. Exercitium de Morte.
1. O anima mea, quid fiet de nobis si nos ultima hora tot et tantis peccatis onustos occupet?
2. O mors, finis temporis O, initium aeternitatis! Quam terribilis es iis quibus peccatum est jucundum!
3. Doimine per omnes miserationes Tuas da mihi ut ultimum4. Heu Deus meus et omne bonum meum: esto Tu solus liberator meus et amicum refugium meum in die illa terribili.
5. Da mihi ut ab hoc momento non cessem providere quae ad pacem mihi erunt in illa periculosa tempestate.
6. Recogitabo Tibi Domine, omnes annos meos in amaritudine animae meae.
7. O mortis stimule peccatum, ab hac hora blanditiis tuis mortiferis renuncio.
8. Dicam Deo susceptor meus es Tu: illumina oculos meos, ne unquam obdormiam in morte.
9. Hie ure, hic seca Domine: modo in aeternum parcas.10. Recordare, Jesu pie, quod sum causa Tum viae, ne me perdas illa die!
3. Exercitium de Judicio.
1. O peccatum! O aeternitas!2. Vae mihi, cum aperientur libri, et dicitur, Ecce homo et opera ejus. Heu mihi Domine in illa die si inventus fuero minus habens.
3. Per omnes miserationes Tuas Domine, da mihi ut meipsum hic judicando, terribile illud judicium Tuum praeveniam.
4. Nunc scio et video, quia malum et amarum est dereliquisse Te Deum meum.
5. O anima stulta et insipiens! times offendere homines qui tecum judicandi sunt, et non times Supremum Judicem offendere?
6. O quam bonus es Domine, qui mihi spatium et opportunitatem dedisti providendi contra istius diei terrorem.
7. Ecce offero Tibi cor meum: purifica illud ab omni labe quae Tibi displicere poterit.
8. Recte vereor omnia opera mea: nam delicta quis intelligit? ab occultis meis munda me Domine.
9. Super custodiam meam stabo: sed frustra vigilo nisi Tu custodias.
10. Confige timore Tuo carnes meas: a judiciis enim Tuis timui.
4. Exercitium de Inferno.
1. Domine, quis novit potestatem viae Tuae: aut prae timore viam Tuam dinumerare?
2. O anima mea, nunquid poteris habitare cum igne devorante? nunquid habitabis cum ardoribus sempiternis?
3. Abominor, O Inferne, blasphemias et maledictiones tuas stridores dentium et ululatus: et horum omnium infelicissimam aeternitatem.
4. Recordare Domine Jesu, quia Tuum non est perdere ex eo quod Pater Tuus dedit Tibi.
5. Quod enim debuimus Tu solvisti: quod peccavimus Tu luisti: quod negleximus Tu supplesti.
6. Conserva me opus Tuae pietatis: ne incassum circa ipsum laboraveris, et ne infructuosa sit in me immaculati Cruoris Tui effusio.
7. Non est auxilium mihi in me: libera me, Domine, et pone me juxta Te et cujusvis manus pugnet contra me.
8. Mirifica misericordias tuas, qui salvos facis sperantes in Te.
9. Qui certamen forte dedisti nobis: da ut vincamus.
10. Ut confiteamur Tibi dicentes: Benedictus Deus qui non dedit nos in captionem dentibus inimicorum nostrorum: anima nostra sicut passer erepta est de laqueo venantium: laqueus contritus est et nos liberati sumus.
5. Exercitium de Paradiso.
1. Gloriosa dicta sunt de te, civitas Dei: sicut laetantium omnium habitatio est in te: fundaris enim exaltatione universae terrae.
2. Unam petii a Domino, hanc requiram: ut inhabitem in domo Domini omnibus diebus vitae meae: et in lumine ejus videam lumen.
3. Domine, modo ut videam decorem tuum in regno Tuo: duc me per lucem aut tenebras; per vitam aut mortem.
4. Libenter moriar mihi ipsi et omnibus creaturis: ut Tibi soli et Tecum in aeternam vivam.
5. O anima mea, festinemus ad patriam nostram: ubi nulli sunt laquei: ubi nunquam Deum tuum offendes.
6. Heu mihi quia incolatus meus prolongatus est: habitavi cum habitantibus Cedar: multum incola fuit anima mea.
7. Mihi adhearere Deo bonum est: quid enim mihi est in coelo et a Te quid volui super terram? Deus cordis mei, et pars mea Deus in aeternum.
8. O Deus charitas! ad quid me creasti? nonne ut amem Te et ut amando in aeternum fruar Te?
9. Da mihi, Domine aut amare aut mori: imo da mihi mori, ut digne amem Te.
10. Ecce cor meum quod offero Tibi: et quid volo nisi ut sit holocaustum charitatis ad aeternam gloriam Tuam. Amen.
HOLY EXERCISES OF PURE LOVE TO GOD.
The First Exercise.
1. I DO rejoice in all the perfections that are in Thee, O my God, as in Thy wisdom, goodness, power, and all other Thy divine prerogatives and perfections.
2. Let it please and suffice me that Thou art infinitely happy and rich (my most benign and loving Father).
3. I do rejoice at the presence of Thee, my God, in heaven (where Thou reignest as in Thy kingdom), and that Thou art there worshipped, adored, and loved by all Thy Angels and Saints.
4. So that if it were in my power, I would love and honour Thee with all that love and worship wherewith all the Angels and Saints do there love Thee.
5. I do rejoice in all the loves and services that the just men in the Church (especially the perfect) in all former ages, in the present or in the future ages have and do, or shall bear and perform towards Thee.
6. And I desire to love Thee with the love of them, and would for Thy love do and perform, if it lay in my power, all their works, as well internal as external, and would undergo all their labours, and endure all their afflictions.
7. I do heartily rejoice in all the good things that are in the elect servants of God, but especially for the wonderful gifts of the perfect, and that they are by Thee, O my God, illuminated, inflamed, and sanctified.
8. My love and desire towards Thee, O my God, is such,
and so great, that if it were possible to me, and acceptable to
Thee, I would of each soul (especially my own) make a kingdom
9. Which, if it lay in my power, should be more in number than the grass piles on the earth, the sands in the sea, or drops of water therein.
10. I do here in Thy presence, O my God, hold and repute myself as nothing; and whatsoever I have above nothing, natural or supernatural, I acknowledge it to be Thine only.
11. And because of myself I am nothing, and that my God is all good, and that all good things come only from Him, I do greatly rejoice, and with all my heart confess that I am nothing, can do nothing, and have nothing; for both my being and ability to do, and all I have, is Thine and from Thee.
The Second Exercise.
1. I do here, in the presence of God, repute and judge myself the most vile of all creatures; and because I cannot feel or perceive this in myself, but rather the contrary (having a good and great opinion of myself), I do acknowledge, therefore, that I am the most proud and ungrateful of all others; and I do bewail myself as such an one.
2. O my God, I love and desire to love Thee, with a love pure and free from all respect of proper commodity and self-interest.
3. I love Thee, my Lord, with a perseverant love, purposing by the help of Thy holy grace and assistance never to be separated from Thee by sin.
4. And if I were to live for millions of years, yet would I ever remain Thy faithful servant and lover.
5. I wish all creatures would adore and serve Thee, and that infidels may be converted to Thy faith, and all sinners to a good life; and all this only for Thy supreme honour and glory.
6. I wish that neither myself nor any other had ever offended Thee, my God; and that in particular I myself had ever served Thee faithfully from the instant of my nativity.
7. I wish and desire that both I myself and all others may
8. I rejoice and congratulate that Thou, my Lord God, art so rich and happy, that all creatures can add no more to Thy happiness than already Thou hast;
9. Nevertheless, because Thou mayest have external honour and worship from Thy creatures, I do wish sincerely that all of them may accordingly perform their service and the worship due unto Thee the best they can.
10. I am sorry for all the sins and indignities that are, have, or shall be done unto Thee, by myself or any others.
11. And this principally and only I am sorry for, because these sins are injuries done to Thy Divine Majesty, who only art worthy to be honoured and served by all Thy creatures.
12. I do joyfully accept and am glad of all that is pleasing to God, be it prosperity or adversity, sweet or bitter, and this merely for the love I bear Him.
13. I am sorry for all that doth displease God, or is contrary to His divine will or commandments, and all this only for the love of Him and His glory.
The Third Exercise.
1. I congratulate with Thee, O my God, for the blessedness end all the perfections that are in Thee, and which for all eternity Thou hast ever had; as Thy omnipotence, wisdom, goodness, &c.
2. I congratulate with Thee also, and am glad that Thou hast need of no extrinsical thing, but art in Thyself most rich and fully sufficient both for Thyself and all creatures.
3. I likewise with Thee, O my Lord, rejoice in the sweet ordinance and disposition of heaven and earth, and for all the things which are in the marvellous creation of this world, and for all the works which Thou hast made, or shalt yet make unto the end of the world.
4. I congratulate, approve, and rejoice in all the judgments
of my Lord God, as well manifest as secret: concerning the
devils, the souls of the damned, the unbaptised children in
5. 1 congratulate and rejoice with Thee, O my God, in all the lauds and praises which the Angels and Saints in heaven and Thy servants on earth do give Thee, and for all the worship they yield unto Thee.
6. Because I find myself altogether insufficient to praise my God, I do for my help and assistance therein invite and call upon the holy angels and all creatures;
7. And with them I join my own soul, with all the powers of it, that all of them together may glorify my God for His infinite excellency.
8. I am sorry I am not perfect, and wish that (so far as it may please my God to grant) I may be perfect the more worthily to praise Thee;
9. And not out of any commodity by it to myself, but purely for the love I beat Thy Divine Majesty, who art infinitely worthy of more love and honour than all creatures that are or can be, are able to perform towards Thee.
10. Exult and rejoice and be thou delighted, O my soul, for all the excellency and good things that are in thy God.
11. I rejoice in the dignity that our Saviour Christ now hath in heaven, and congratulate Him in it.
The Fourth Exercise.
1. Blessed be Thy Eternal Father, O Heavenly Lord Jesus, who so abundantly bestowed these felicities on Thee; do Thou blessedly and gloriously enjoy them for all eternity.
2. I congratulate the most Blessed Virgin Mary and all the Angels and Saints in heaven for the glory and happiness which they now enjoy;
3. And I praise and exalt my God for His great goodness and liberality therein showed towards those His most faithful and elect friends.
4. I do exceedingly rejoice that since all creatures together
are in no sort able to praise,Thee, my God, according to the
very least worth that is in Thee, yet Thou Thyself, and Thou
5. I do rejoice indeed at this, and do heartily desire Thee to do it evermore.
6. Yea, I do heartily crave of Thee that Thou mayest incessantly and most intensively praise Thyself, since Thou only art able to do it, and deservest to have it done.
7. I do congratulate and rejoice with Thee, O my Lord God, in all the works which Thou bast done; and this only because they are the works of Thy hands.
8. As for the creation of the world, Thy providence about it, Thy redemption of it; wonderfully esteeming all these works, because they are Thine.
9. And I rejoice as well in that Thou hast made a hell for the punishment of the wicked, as a heaven for the reward of the good.
10. I wish and desire, out of my love to God, that He may be praised and known of all men; and I do invite all creatures to do the same with myself.
11. I offer myself, for the love of my God, to bear and suffer all things which may be to His honour and glory; though no manner of commodity accrue to me thereby, but purely I do it out of the free love I bear, and desire to bear, towards my God.
12. Lastly, I profess that if I could desire anything wherein I might show or exercise my love towards my God, I hope (with the help of His grace) I should and would do it most cheerfully and readily out of the pure and sincere love that I bear and wish to bear towards my God, without respect of any commodity by it to myself: which God grant me to do for His glory and my happiness. Amen.
CERTAIN AMOROUS DESIRES, &c.
TO BE USED ACCORDING TO THE DISPOSITION OF THE SOUL
1. O DOMINE da quod jubes et jube quod vis.
Grant me to do what Thou commandest, O my Lord, and
command what Thou wilt.
2. O vita animae meae!
O life of my soul!
3. In manus Tuas Domine commendo spiritum meum.
Into Thy hands, O Lord, I do commend my spirit.
4. Paratum cor meum Deus, paratum cor meum.
My heart is ready, O my God, my Heart is ready.
5. Ecce ego; mitte me.
Lo, here I am; send me.
6. Domine quid mihi est in coelo et a Te quid volui super
terram?
O Lord, what is there in heaven, or what upon earth, that I
would have besides Thee?
7. Domine quid me vis facere?
Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?
8. Heu mini quia incolatus meus prolongatus est!
O woe is to me, that my sojourning is prolonged!
9. Domine Tu scis quia amo Te, et animam meam ponam
pro Te.
Thou knowest, O Lord, that I love Thee, and will bestow
my life for Thee.
10. Quemadmodum desiderat cervus ad fontes aquarum, ita
desiderat anima me ad Te Deus.
Even as the hart doth thirst after the fountain of waters, so
doth my soul thirst after Thee, O God.
11. Cupio dissolvi et esse cum Christo.
I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ.
12. Quando veniam et apparebo ante faciem Domini?
When shall I come and appear before the face of our Lord?
13. Precor coelestem Regent, ut me dolentem nimium faciat
eum cernere.
I beseech the Heavenly King to cause me (who am very
much grieved for want of it) to come to the sight of Him whom
I so much love.
14. Domine si inveni gratiam in oculis Tuis, ostende faciem
Tuam.
Lord, if I have found favour in Thy sight, show unto me
Thy face.
15. Benedic anima mea Domino, et omnia quae intra me sunt
nomini sancto Ejus.
O my soul, and all that is within me, bless ye our Lord, and
praise His holy name.
16. Benedicam Dominum in omni tempore, semper laus Ejus
in ore meo.
I will bless our Lord at all times, His praise shall ever be in
my mouth.
17. Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth;
pleni sunt coeli et terra majestatis gloriae Tuae.
Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Sabaoth; heaven and earth
are full of the majesty of Thy glory.
20. Domine in ceelo misericordia Tua, et veritas Tua usque
ad nubes.
O Lord, Thy mercy is in heaven, and Thy truth reacheth to
the clouds.
21. Ad Te levavi oculos meos qui habitas in coelis.
To Thee have I lifted up mine eyes, who dwellest in
heaven.
22. Dilectus meus mihi et ego Illi.
My Beloved is mine, and I am His.
23. Regnum Tuum regnum omnium saeculorum, et
dominatio Tua in omni generatione et generatione.
Thy kingdom is a kingdom for ever, and Thy reign is for
all generations and generations.
24. Vulnerasti cor meum Sponse mi, vulnerasti cor meum.
Thou hast wounded my heart, my Spouse, Thou hast wounded
my heart.
25. Adjuro vas filiae Jerusalem, si inveneritis dilectum meum.
ut nuntietis Ei quia amore langueo.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you shall find
my Beloved, tell Him that I languish with love.
26. Veni dilecte mi, veni.
Come, Thou my Beloved, come.
27. Quo abiit dilectus tuus? quo declinavit dilectus tuus?
et quaeremus eum tecum.
Whither is thy Beloved gone? whither is thy Beloved turned
aside? and we will seek Him with thee.
28. Quis mihi det ut inveniam Te et deosculer Te?
Who shall procure unto me, that I may find Thee and kiss
Thee?
29. Trahe me post Te, curremus in odorem unguentorum Tuorum.
Draw me after Thee, we shall run in the odour of Thine
ointments.
30. Indica mihi quem diligit anima mea, ubi pascas, ubi cubes.
Thou whom my soul loveth, show unto me where Thou
dost eat, where Thou dost lodge.
31. Ostende mihi faciem Tuam; sonet vox Tua in auribus meis.
Show me Thy face; let Thy voice sound in mine ears.
32. Quaesivi quem diligit anima mea, quaesivi Illum et non inveni.
I have sought for Him whom my soul loveth; I have
sought for Him, and have not found Him.
33. Paululum cum transissem, inveni quem diligit anim mea.
When I had gone a little farther, I found Him whom my
soul loveth.
35. Diligam te Domine fortitudo mea, firmamentum meum,
et refugium et liberator meus.
I will love Thee, O Lord, my strength, my firm foundation,
my refuge, and my deliverer.
36. Illumina oculos meos ne unquam obdormiam in morte:
ne quando dicat inimicus meus, praevalui adversus eum.
Enlighten mine eyes, that I may never sleep in death;
lest mine enemy may come at length to say, I have prevailed against him.
37. Dignus es Tu Domine Deus accipere gloriam et honorem
et virtutem et benedictionem.
Thou art worthy, O Lord God, to have glory and honour
and power and praise.
38. Confiteantur Tibi Domine omnia opera Tua, et sancti
Tui benedicant Tibi.
Let Thy works, O Lord, confess unto Thee, and let Thy
Saints praise Thee.
39. Si oportuerit me mori non te negabo.
Though I were to die for it, yet I would not deny Thee.
40. Jesu, Jesu, Jesu, &c.
Non dimittam Te nisi benediceris mihi.
I will not let Thee go till Thou hast blessed me.
41. Miserere mei Deus, miserere mei, quoniam in Te confidit
anima mea.
Have mercy on me, O Lord, have mercy on me, because my
soul doth confide in Thee.
42. Beati qui habitant in domo tua Domine, in saecula
saeculorum laudabunt Te.
Blessed are they who dwell in Thy house, O Lord; they
praise Thee for ever and ever.
43. O all my hope!
CERTAIN AMOROUS SPEECHES OF THE SOUL TO
HERSELF IN PRAYER:
THE WHICH ARE A GOOD FORM OR MATTER OF PRAYER TO BE NOW
AND THEN MADE USE OF, WHEN THE SOUL IS NOT ABLE OR APT
TO CONTINUE SPEAKING IMMEDIATELY TO GOD.
The like is to be said of the following Devotions to our
Blessed Lady, &c.
1. O MY soul, when wilt thou be ready to follow the humility
of thy Lord Jesus Christ?
2. When shall the example of His patience shine in thee?
3. When wilt thou be wholly free from passions and vicious
affections?
4. When wilt thou peaceably and gently endure all
tribulation and temptation?
5. When wilt thou perfectly love thy God?
6. When wilt thou be pure, simple, and resigned before Him?
7. How long will it be ere thou be hindered no more from
His most chaste embraces?
8. O that thou didst fervently love God!
9. O that thou didst inseparably cleave unto thy chiefest
good!
10. O my soul, where is thy love? where is thy treasure?
where is thy desire? where is all thy good? where is thy God?
when shalt thou be with Him? when shalt thou most happily
enjoy Him?
11. If thou hast sinned and art wounded, behold thy God,
behold thy Physician is ready to cure thee.
AN EXAMPLE OF ACTS WHICH A SOUL MAY EXERCISE TOWARDS GOD AS ABSENT FROM HER.
1. I will bless our Lord at all times, His praises shall ever be in my mouth.AN EXAMPLE OF SPEAKING SUPPOSED TO BE MADE BY GOD TO THE SOUL.
1. Son, it behoveth thee to give all for all, and reserve nothing to thyself.AN EXERCISE OF DEVOTION TO OUR BLESSED LADY MOTHER OF GOD.
1. Hail, sweet Mary; hail, most sacred Virgin, whom God before all ages did choose for His most sacred Mother;AN EXERCISE TO THE HOLY ANGELS, AND ESPECIALLY THE ANGEL GUARDIAN.
1. I salute you, O holy spirits, and with all my heart congratulate your happiness, who continually contemplate the Divine Face and all-satiating Goodness:AN EXERCISE OF DEVOTION TOWARDS OUR HOLY FATHER AND RELIGIOUS FOUNDER, ST. BENEDICT.
1. Hail, most blessed and glorious Father; I congratulate with all my heart thy glory and grace with God.
HOLY EXERCISES
OF ACTS OF THE WILL.
The First Exercise.
The Second Exercise.
1. Great art Thou, O Lord, and great is Thy power; yea, and Thy wisdom is infinite.The Third Exercise.
1. My God, Thou art the author, end, and measure of all purity and holiness; before whom folly is fund even in the angels.The Fourth Exercise.
1. Who can declare the mercies of my God towards my soul? Of nothing He raised me to the dignity of an intellectual, immortal nature; from the low state of nature He exalted me to the divine state of grace; from thence He will raise me to a participation of His glory and happiness.The Fifth Exercise.
1. My God, as Thou art the Author of the being of all things, so art Thou the End also; for Thy glory all things were and are created.The Sixth Exercise.
1. My God, in union with that most perfect and acceptableThe Seventh Exercise.
1. My God and all my good, I am nothing, I have nothing, I can do nothing that is good as of myself; Thou art all, and all our sufficiency is from Thee only.
HOLY EXERCISES OF RESIGNATION.
TO THE DEVOUT READER.
Above all other acts of the will, our venerable author doth most recommend to practise those of Resignation. For thy use, therefore, I have selected certain forms which thou mayest either exercise as they be, or according to then frame exercises for thyself. Now here thou wilt find both examples of general illimited resignations (most proper for the more perfect, which yet may be used indifferently by any), and likewise of resignations in all particular difficulties and afflictions, either actually pressing or only in imagination and supposition. Now for the use and application of all these I refer thee to the foregoing instructions in Treat. iii. sect. iii. chap. iii. The particular resignations are taken from four heads, in which any person may receive damage, and consequently may have occasion to resign himself, viz.: 1. Goods of fortune, as riches, houses, clothes, &c.; 2. Goods of fame, honour, authority, office, &c.; 3. Goods of the body, as health, strength, beauty, agility, &c.; 4. Goods of the soul, as endowments, natural or supernatural, learning, &c.
Now in regard of these, there first follow short patterns of resignation, according to this order, one after another. If thou desirest acts of this nature and order more largely expressed, I refer thee to the book called the Idiot's Devotions. After these I have several other more extended exercises of particular resignations, consisting of acts relating to the foresaid heads, without any order, one mixed with another. And those which I judged most necessary, and the occasions of them most frequently occurring, I have oft repeated.
ACTS OF GENERAL RESIGNATION.
1. My God, whatsoever I have, whatsoever I can do, all this
Thou hast freely bestowed on me. Behold I offer myself and
all that belongs to me to Thy heavenly will. Receive, O Lord,
FORMS OF PARTICULAR ACTS OF RESIGNATION.
1. About External Goods.
For the love of God, and in conformity to His will, I resign
myself:
1. To be deprived of any of the clothes that I have, or
may have, though never so necessary;
2. or of books;
3. or of convenient lodgings;
4. and to have those things bestowed on me from which my nature is most averted.
5. To be driven to wear clothes that seem base, unfit, or inconvenient for the season.
6. To be ill accommodated in lodging, bedding, &c.
7. To want even necessary clothes.
8. To be forced to wear such clothes as will make me appear ridiculous.
9. To want meat or drink;
10. or to have only such as is ungrateful to nature.
11. To endure crosses that in any sort, spiritually or corporally, may fall
on my friends or kindred, as loss of state, infirmity, death, &c.;
12. and, on the other side, to restrain all inordinate complacency in their prosperity.
13. To endure that my friends should neglect, forget, yea, hate and persecute me.
14. To be abandoned of all creatures, so that I may have no man or thing to cleave
unto, save only Thee my God, who wilt abundantly suffice me.
15. To be indifferent in what place, company, &c., I shall live;
16. yea, to live with those from whom my nature is most averted.
17. To live in all sorts of afflictions, as long as shall please Thee
my God;
18. and not to yield to the motion of nature, which perhaps out of wearisomeness would fain have life at an end.
But wholly to conform my will to Thy good will and pleasure;
19. yea, to take pleasure that Thy will may be fulfilled in me
any way.
2. Acts of Resignation about our Good Name.
For the love of Thee my God, and in conformity to Thy3. Acts of Resignation about the Body.
For the love of Thee, O my God, and in conformity to Thy
will, I resign myself: 1. to suffer weaknesses, sickness; 2. pains;
3. deformity; 4. horror in the sight of others, as was the case
of Job and Lazarus. 5. To suffer extremity of heat or cold; 6.
want of necessary sleep, and hunger or thirst; 7. indigestion;
8. torments and defects about my five senses. 9. To be affrighted
with horrible and hideous sights of devils, &c. 10. To be
4. Particular Acts of Resignation about the Soul.
For the love of God, and in conformity to His will, I do
resign myself: 1. To undergo all sorts of temptations that shall
please Thee my God to lay on me or permit to befall me; 2.
and to suffer them to the end of my life, ever adhering to Thee.
3. To endure all manner of desolations, aridities, and indevotions.
4. To suffer all obscurity and darkness in my understanding;
all coldness and dulness of affection in my will to Thee, so far
as I am not able to help it; 5. in all which I renounce the seeking
any solace in creatures. 6. To want all manner of gifts and
graces not necessary to my salvation; 7. nor to desire inordi-
OTHER MIXED RESIGNATIONS.
§ 1. O, how good art Thou, O my God, to those that trust in Thee, to the soul that truly seeks Thee! What art Thou, then, to those that find Thee!
1. Whatsoever I shall suffer, O my God, by Thy ordinance, either in body or soul, and how long soever I shall suffer, I renounce all consolation but what comes from Thee.
2. My God, though Thou shouldst always hide Thy face from me, and never afford me any consolation, yet will I never cease to love, praise, and pray unto Thee.
3. For Thy sake I renounce all pleasure in eating and drinking, being resolved to make use of Thy creatures only in obedience to Thy will, and to the end thereby to be enabled to serve Thee.
4. I resign myself to abide all my lifetime among strangers; yea, or among such as have an aversion towards me, and which will never cease to molest me.
5. My God, casting myself wholly on Thy Fatherly provi-6. I offer unto Thee, O my God, this desire and resolution of my heart, that notwithstanding my continual indevotion, my infinite distractions and defects, &c., I will never give over the exercises of an internal life.
7. My desire is always to be in the lowest place, beneath all creatures, according to my demerit.
8. For Thy love, O my God, I renounce all inordinate affections to my particular friends or kindred.
9. I resign myself to suffer any lameness or distortedness in any of my members.
10. I resign myself to abide all my life among those that are enemies to Thy Catholic Church, and there to be in continual fears, dangers, and persecutions.
§ 2. Draw me, O God, we will run after Thee, because of the odour of Thy precious ointments.
1. For Thy love, O my God, I resign myself to want necessary clothing, or to be deprived of those which I have.
2. I resign myself patiently to bear with the repugnance I find in my corrupt nature, and the difficulty in resisting the unruly passions of it. Yes, through Thy grace, my purpose is to use my best industry and vigilance against it.
3. For Thy love I renounce the seeking after all curious and impertinent knowledge.
4. I renounce all sensual contentment in sleep or other corporal refreshments, being desirous to admit no more of them than shall be necessary, and in obedience to Thy will.
5. My God, through Thy grace, neither hard usage from others, nor any mere outward corporal extremity or want, shall force me to seek a change of my present condition.
6. My God, I do consecrate myself to Thee alone, for the whole remnant of my life to pursue the exercises of an internal life, leaving the fruit and success of my endeavours to Thy holy will.
7. For Thy love, and in conformity to Thy blessed will, I8. I offer myself unto Thee, with patience to suffer whatsoever Thou shalt inflict on me, and never to yield to the inclination and feebleness of nature, which perhaps out of wearisomeness would have life at an end.
9. When obedience or charity shall require it, I resign myself to go and abide in a place haunted with evil spirits, being assured that as long as I adhere to Thee they cannot hurt my soul.
10. I renounce rashness, readiness, and forwardness to judge the actions of others, employing all my severity in censuring against myself only.
§ 3. My God and all my good, in Thy heavenly will is life; but death is mine. Not my will, therefore, but Thine be done in earth as it is in heaven.
1. For Thy love, O my God, I do resign myself to be deprived of all the gifts and privileges which in my nature I do most affect, and to see them conferred on the person for whom I have the greatest aversion.
2. I resign myself not only to want the esteem or favour of my superiors, but also to be despised, and hardly, yea, injuriously treated by them.
3. When through my own demerit I do deserve such ill usage from them, 1 will be sorry and humbled for my fault, and bless Thee for punishing it so easily in this life.
4. O tepidity, I do detest thee.5. I do resign myself, and am even desirous to find such usage in this world, that I may know and feel it to be only a place of exile.
6. My God, whatsoever affliction or desertion Thou shalt suffer to befall me, through Thy grace I will neither omit, neglect, nor shorten my daily appointed recollections.
7. I offer myself to Thee, O my God, entirely to be disposed of by Thee, both for life and death. Only let me love Thee, and that is sufficient for me.
8. Whatsoever natural or other defectuousness shall be in9. I renounce all forwardness to give counsel to others, being much rather desirous to receive it from any other.
10. I do utterly renounce all familiarity and all unnecessary conversation or correspondence with persons of a different sex.
§ 4. My Lord Jesus, Thou who art Truth hast said, My yoke is easy and My burden light.
1. I have received from Thy hands a cross of religious penitential discipline; through Thy grace I will continue to bear it till my death, never forsaking any ways to ease it by external employments, or to escape from it, and shake it off by missions, &c.
2. For Thy love, O my God, and in conformity to Thy will, I resign myself to die when, where, and in what manner Thou shalt ordain.
3. I am content to see others make a great progress in spirit, and to do more good in Thy Church than myself.
4. I renounce all that satisfaction and false peace which is got by yielding to my inordinate passions, and not by resisting and mortifying them.
5. My God, till Thou hast humbled that great pride which is in me, do not spare to send me daily yet more and greater humiliations and mortifications.
6. I offer myself unto Thee, to suffer with patience and quietness whatsoever desolations, obscurity of mind, or deadness of affections that shall befall in a spiritual course; notwithstanding all which, througb Thy grace, I will never neglect a serious tendency to Thee.
7. I am content to serve Thee with those mean talents that Thou hast given me.
8. I yield myself to endure all manner of injuries and contempts, and yet to be esteemed by others to be impatient and revengeful.
9. I do renounce all solicitude to please others, or to gain the affections of any one to myself.
10. I do resign myself to such painful and withal base offices as my proud and slothful nature doth abhor, whensoever obedience, charity, or Thy will shall impose them on me.
§ 5. My God, Thou art faithful, and wilt not suffer us to be tempted above that we are able; but wilt with the temptation give an issue that we may be able to bear it.
1. My God, my desire is to serve Thee gratis, like a son, and not as a mercenary.
2. I came into religion to suffer and to serve; I renounce, therefore, all desires of procuring ease, plenty, or superiority.
3. In love to Thee, O my God, I resign myself to follow Thee, by whatsoever ways, external or internal, that Thou shalt conduct me, although I be not able to understand them, nor can see how there can be any good issues of them.
4. I am content to see all become weary and desirous to be rid of me.
5. I am resigned to want whatsoever gift and graces are not necessary to my salvation.
6. In love to Thee, O my God, and in submission to Thy will, I do renounce all inordinate love and correspondence with the world, that so I may attend to Thee only.
7. I resign myself to become a spectacle horrible and loathsome to men's eyes, as was Job or Lazarus.
8. I do adore and most humbly submit myself to Thy most wise and secret judgments concerning my death or future state.
9. I resign myself to suffer those most bitter pains of the stone, gout, colic, &c., if Thou shalt ordain them to fall on me.
10. I renounce all obstinacy in defending mine own opinions, and all desire of victory in discourse.
§ 6. My God, who is like unto Thee, who hast Thy dwelling most high, yet humblest Thyself to regard the things which are (done) in heaven and earth!
1. I resign myself to abide in this place and in this present
2. Let all creatures scorn, abandon, and persecute me, so that Thou, O my God, wilt accompany and assist me; Thou alone sufficest me.
3. Through Thy grace I will never cease to approach nearer and nearer to Thee by prayer and abstraction from creatures.
4. I do resign myself, whensoever necessity, obedience, or charity shall require it, to visit and assist any one lying sick, though of the plague, or any other infectious or horrible disease.
5. I am contented that those who are nearest to me in blood or friendship should be so averted from me as to abhor my name.
6. I resign myself to die a natural or violent death, and as soon as it shall please Thee.
7. I offer unto Thee this desire and purpose of my heart, that I will esteem no employment to be necessary but the aspiring to a perfect union with Thee, and that I will not undertake any other business but in order to this.
8. I do heartily renounce all affection to all, even venial imperfections and the occasions of them.
9. I renounce all propriety in any dignity or office that I have or may have hereafter.
10. I desire to have no more to do with the world than if I were already dead and buried.
§ 7. My God, it is my only good to adhere unto Thee, who art the God of my heart and my portion for ever.
1. I offer myself unto Thee to be afflicted with whatsoever temptation, external or internal, Thou shalt permit to befall me; and though I should fall never so oft, yet will I not yield to dejection of mind or despair, but will rise up as soon as by Thy grace I shall be enabled.
2. I resign myself to follow Thee, O my Lord Jesus, in the same poverty of which Thou hast given me an example, renouncing all propriety in anything, and being contented and pleased to enjoy only what shall be necessary in all kinds.
3. I resign myself not only to be disfavoured by my superiors, but also to see those most favoured that are most averted from me.
4. My God, although Thou shouldst kill me, yet will I never cease to hope and trust in Thee.
5. I am content not to learn or know any more than Thou wouldst have me to know.
6. I do offer myself to all manner of contradictions and injuries to be sustained from my superiors or brethren, in patience, silence, and without complaining.
7. I renounce all impatience and unquietness for my many defects and hourly imperfections.
8. I do offer unto Thee my desire and resolution never to relinquish an internal spiritual course, notwithstanding any difficulties whatsoever that shall occur in it.
9. My God, I do not desire a removal of all temptations, which show me: 1. How impossible it is to enjoy a perfect peace in this life; and, 2. how necessary unto me Thy grace and assistance is. I embrace the pain of them. Only let me not offend Thee by yielding to them.
10. For Thy love I resign myself to be deprived of all proper and certain habitation.
§ 8. Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Sabaoth! All the earth is full of Thy glory. Glory be to Thee most High.
1. For Thy love, O my God, and in conformity to Thy holy will, I resign myself unto Thee, with all that I am, have, can do, or suffer, in soul, body, goods, fame, friends, &c., both for time and eternity.
2. For Thy love I do renounce all desire of authority, especially all charge over the souls of others.
3. I am content not to learn or know more than Thou wouldst have me to know.
4. I resign myself, whensoever Thou shalt call me to it, to sacrifice my life, in what manner soever Thou shalt ordain, for the defence of Thy Catholic truth, trusting in Thy merciful promise that Thou wilt assist me in such trials.
5. My God, I am content to be blotted out of the memory of all (except those that would afflict me).
6. My God, let me be the universal object of the contempt and hatred of all creatures, so that I may love Thee and enjoy Thy presence and grace.
7. Jesus, who art the Prince of peace, and whose habitation is in peace, I offer my heart unto Thee, that Thou mayest establish a firm peace in it, calming the tempestuous passions that so oft rage in it.
8. I renounce all affection to speaking.
9. I resign myself in sickness to be burdensome and chargeable to others, so as that all should become weary and desirous to be rid of me.
10. I renounce all facility in hearkening to or believing any ill that is reported concerning others, and much more to be a disperser of such report.
§ 9. I adore Thee, O my God, the blessed and only Potentate,
King of kings and Lord of Lords, who dwellest in unapproachable
light: to Thee be glory and eternal dominions.
Amen.
1. I resign and offer myself unto Thee, to follow the conduct of Thy Holy Spirit in an internal life, through bitter and sweet, light and darkness, in life and death.
2. I do renounce all solicitous designs to gain the affections of superiors or of any others; with any intention thereby to procure ease or contentment to nature.
3. I do renounce all propriety in any endowments that Thou hast or shalt give me.
4. I am contented with whatsover Thou shalt provide for my sustenance, how mean, how little, and how disgustful soever it be.
5. I resign myself in the agony of death to endure whatsoever pains, frights, or temptations Thou shalt permit to befall me, only let my spirit. always adhere to Thee.
6. My God, I do here again renew and ratify my vows of
7. I resolve, through Thy grace, that my great and daily defects shall not destroy my peace of mind nor confidence in Thy goodness.
8. I resign myself, for the humiliation and good of my soul, to be deprived of any endowments and gifts that may any way make me be esteemed by others.
9. I resign myself in sickness to want the assistance and comfort of friends, yea, even the use of Sacraments.
10. I resign myself (yea, would be glad) to lose all sensual pleasure in meats and drinks, if such were Thy will.
§ 10. Blessed is the man whose hope is only in the name of Thee my God, and that regardeth not vanities and deceitful frenzies.
1. Though Thou shouldst always hide Thy face from me, yea, my God, although Thou shouldst kill me, yet will I never cease to approach to Thee, and to put my whole trust in Thee only.
2. I consecrate my whole life to Thee, to be spent in a continual tendency in soul to Thee; not presuming to expect any elevated contemplations or extraordinary graces, but referring to Thy holy pleasure whether I shall ever be raised above my present mean exercises.
3. I resign myself to be esteemed fit and capable only of the basest and most toilsome offices; the which if they shall be imposed upon me, I will not avoid them.
4. I resign myself to be guided only by Thee and Thy holy inspirations.
5. I resign myself to be continually tormented, and to have my sleeps broken with any kind of troublesome noises or frights, &c.
6. My God, I resign myself to Thee alone, to live and die in that state and degree of a spiritual life to which it shall seem good to Thee to bring me; only I beseech Thee, that I may not be negligent in cooperating with Thy grace and holy inspirations.
7. I resign myself to suffer the straits and tediousness of a prison, and there to be deprived of books, or any thing that may divert my mind.
8. I resign myself to suffer the extremity of heat and cold, and to want the comfort of all refreshments against heat, and of necessary clothes against cold.
9. I resign myself to be obliged to take meats and drinks loathsome to my nature.
10. I resign myself to see others, my inferiors, provided of all things, and myself only neglected.
§ 11. Our Lord is my light and salvation: whom, then, should I fear?
1. There is not any spiritual exercise so displeasing or painful to my nature which I would not embrace, if I knew or did believe Thy will to be such.
2. My God, so I may die in Thy grace and holy love, I resign myself to the infamy of being reputed to have procured my own death; and that therefore my body should be ignominiously cast out, and none to have the charity to pray for my soul.
3. I resign myself to be affrighted with horrible noises, hideous apparitions, &c.
4. Through Thy grace, my God, I will not rest with affection in any of Thy gifts how sublime soever; but will only make use of them to pass by their means in to Thee, who art my only increated, universal, and infinite good.
5. I esteem this life to be a mere prison or place of exile.
6. My God, I offer my soul unto Thee, that Thou mayest establish a firm peace in it, not to be interrupted as now it is by every contradiction and cross.
7. I resign myself to have my superiors, and all others whom my nature would wish to be most friendly, to be in all things a continual contradiction and cross to me.
8. For Thy love I would be content rather to have no use of my tongue at all, than thus continually to offend Thee with it.
9. Let all creatures be silent before Thee, and do Thou, O
10. My God, I know that to fly Thy cross is to fly Thee that diedst on it; welcome, therefore, be (these) Thy crosses and trials.
§ 12. My God, with Thee is the fountain of life, and in Thy light we shall see light.
1. My God, to Thee only do I consecrate the remainder of my life, purposing to account no business to be necessary, but only tendency to Thee by prayer and abnegation.
2. I resign myself, if such be Thy pleasure, even to be deprived of all use of these eyes, that are still so much delighted with vanity, curiosity, and all distracting objects.
3. O that I were nothing, that so Thou, my God, mayest be all in all!
4. I resign myself to be deprived of all certain habitation, and to live a vagabond in the world, so that none should take care of me or own me.
5. My God, my desire is to serve Thee in a state wherein I may be deprived of all propriety and election in all things, as well internal as external: do Thou, my Lord, choose for me.
6. In conformity to Thy heavenly will, O my God, I do accept the pain and trouble that I feel from my continual indevotion, my unruly passions, and (almost) unremediable imperfections; and I will with patience expect Thy good time, when I shall be enabled with Thy grace to rectify them.
7. For Thy love I renounce all conversations and correspondences, which I do find to be occasions to me of falling into defects, by nourishing inordinate affection or unquietness.
8. I renounce the folly of being disquieted with seeing that others are not such as I would have them to be, since I cannot make myself such an one as I fain would.
9. I offer myself to become a fool unto all for Thee, my God.
10. So that thereby my pride may be humbled, I even beg of Thee, my God, that Thou wouldst not spare to send me crosses and contradictions.
§ 13. I know, my God, that Thou art the God that triest hearts and lovest simplicity, therefore in the simplicity of my heart I offer myself unto Thee.
1. O my God, when will the time come that Thou wilt lead my soul into Thy solitude?
2. For Thy love I renounce all complacency in any kind of endowment or skill in any arts (as far as any of these are in me), consecrating all that by Thy free gift is in me to Thy glory and service only.
3. I do utterly renounce all familiarity and unnecessary conversations or correspondences with persons of a different sex.
4. My God, it is Thou that hast placed me in this my present condition; and Thou only shalt displace me.
5. O tepidity, I abhor thee. My God, teach me an effectual cure and remedy against it; let not my latter end be worse than my beginning.
6. My God, I offer unto Thee my heart, that whatsoever yet unknown inordinate desires are in it, Thou mayest teach me to mortify them by any ways Thou shalt please.
7. I resign myself, in case that obedience shall unavoidably oblige me thereto, to undertake that most fearful employment of the charge of souls (in the mission, &c.).
8. For Thy love and for the mortification of sensuality, I could content to be freed from all necessity of eating and drinking, if such were Thy pleasure.
9. I offer unto Thee, my God, this desire of my heart, that at last, this day, I may begin perfectly to serve Thee, having spent so much time unprofitably.
10. Feed me, O Lord, with the bread of tears, and give me drink in tears, according to the measure that Thou shalt think fit.
§ 14. My Lord and my God, from Thee are all things, by Thee are ail things, to Thee are all things: to Thee only be glory, love, and obedience for ever.
1. My God, if Thou wilt that I be in light, be Thou blessed
for it, and if Thou wilt that I be in darkness, still be Thou
2. Blessed be Thy holy name that my heart doth not (and never may it) find rest or peace in anything that I seek or love inordinately, whilst I do not love it in Thee and for Thee only.
3. I offer unto Thee this resolution of mine, that by all lawful and fitting ways I will endeavour to avoid any office of authority.
4. I resign myself to live and abide in any state or place where I shall daily have my health or life endangered.
5. I resign myself to suffer in Purgatory whatsoever pains, and as for as long a time, as shall seem good to Thee.
6. Through Thy grace and assistance, O my God, no hard usage from others, nor any desire of finding any ease or contentment to my nature, shall force me to change my present condition.
7. My God, if Thou shalt so ordain or permit, I resign my body to be possessed or tormented by evil spirits, so that my spirit may always adhere by love to Thee.
8. I resign myself to take part in any calamity, disgrace, &c., that Thy Divine Providence shall permit to befall the country or community in which I live.
9. I renounce all resting affection to sensible gusts in my recollections, resolving to adhere firmly to Thee, as well in aridities as consolations.
10. My God, I am nothing, I have nothing, I desire nothing, but Jesus, and to see Him in peace in Jerusalem.
§ 15. Blessed art Thou, O my God, in all Thy gifts, and holy in all Thy ways.
1. I offer unto Thee the desire and resolution of my heart, that no employment which cannot without sin be avoided, nor much less any complacency in conversation with others, nor any unwillingness to break off conversation through impertinent civility, shall cause me to omit or shorten my daily appointed recollections.
2. Far be it from me that my peace should depend on the favour or affection of any creature, and not in subjection to Thy will only.
3. I renounce all knowledge that may hinder or distract me from the knowledge of my own defects and nothingness.
4. My God, I have neither devotion nor attention, and indeed do not deserve either; only I beseech Thee that Thou wilt accept of my sufferings.
5. My God, so that I may die in Thy holy fear and love, I resign myself to want all comforts and assistance from others, both in my death and after it, if such be Thy will.
6. My God, through Thy grace I will never voluntarily undertake any employment or study, but such as shall serve to advance my principal and most necessary business of seeking Thee by prayer, to which all other designs shall give way.
7. My God, I beseech Thee not only to forgive, but to crown with some special blessing all those that despise, depress, or persecute me, as being good instruments of Thy grace to abate pride and self-love in me.
8. Whatsoever dignity or privilege I enjoy, I am content to relinquish it whensoever it shall be Thy will; and if I were wrongfully deprived of it, I will not for the recovering endanger the loss of mine own peace or that of others.
9. I resign myself not only to suffer for mine own faults, but also the faults of my brethren.
10. My God, my desire is to live to Thee only. Place me, therefore, where Thou, wilt; give me or take from me what Thou wilt. Only let me live to Thee and with Thee; that suffices me.
N.B. The reader may take notice that before every one of these fifteen exercises of particular resignations there is premised a proper passage of Holy Scripture, which may be conceived as the ground of the following acts, and will moreover be a fit subject to exercise some good affection or act of the will upon.
A DAILY CONSTANT EXERCISE.
TAKEN OUT OF BLOSIUS.
TO THE READER.
ACCORDING to our promise (Treatise iii. section iii. chap. iii. § 25) we here present thee a peculiar exercise, consisting of all variety of affections and acts of the will, &c. Thou wilt there find for what dispositions it will be proper, and how by it a soul, without any other variety, may attain to a perfect active contemplation, according to the testimony of Lud. Blosius in Instit. Spirit. chap. xi., from whence the exercise itself is taken.
I have, moreover, added another like exercise in Latin, which perhaps may be agreeable to some. It also consists of several divisions and sorts of prayer, as contrition, reflections on the Passion, resignation, amorous desires, &c.; and each division, moreover, contains subdivided parts, to the end that if the whole exercise prove too large for one recollection, the exerciser in each division may content himself with one only of the parts. And, indeed, the devout soul is to be advised that she ought not to make any resolution to go through the whole exercise each recollection; but wheresoever she finds any act or prayer relishing to her, let her insist and dwell upon it with her mind as long as the gust thereof shall last; so that if only three or four, yea, if but one of the acts will suffice her, let her seek no further.
A DAILY CONSTANT EXERCISE
1. Of Contrition.
I have sinned against Thee, my most omnipotent Creator.
I have sinned against Thee, my most merciful Redeemer.
I have sinned against Thee, my most liberal Benefactor.
Woe unto me, I have continually been most ungrateful to Thee.
I am a most vile creature, dust and ashes.
Be merciful, O Lord; be merciful, be merciful unto me.
Behold my sorrow and contrition for my sins.
O, would to God I had never offended Thee!
Would to God I had never resisted and hindered the operation
of Thy grace in my heart!
Would to God I had always pleased Thee, and observed
Thy holy will and inspirations!
My purpose and firm resolution, through Thy grace, is to
avoid henceforward whatsoever may offend Thee, and rather to
die than willingly to provoke Thy wrath and hatred against me.
Therefore, O merciful Jesus, by Thy most bitter Passion and all
the merits of Thy most Sacred Humanity, I beseech Thee to
pardon and blot out all my sins.
Wash me with Thy Precious Blood; heal, purge, and
sanctify me.
2. Reflections on the Merits and Passion of our Saviour Jesus Christ.
I do adore, glorify, and bless Thee, O my only Saviour Jesus
Christ, for all Thy unspeakable mercies and benefits.
O Son of the living God, I do most humbly give thanks to
Thee for that for me Thou hast vouchsafed in Thine infinite
love:
1. To become man.
2. To be born in a poor stable and laid in a manger.
3. To suffer poverty with Thy poor Virgin Mother.
4. For more than thirty years to be wearied with continual
labours and travails for our good.
5. Out of inexpressible anguish to sweat drops of Blood.
6. To be ignominiously apprehended by sinners, unworthily
bound and arraigned before Thine enemies.
7. To be shamefully defiled with spittings, cruelly beaten,
and dishonourably clothed with a white and purple garment,
like a fool and a mock king.
8. To be unjustly condemned to death.
9. To be cruelly torn with whips and crowned with thorns.
10. To be most tormentingly fastened with nails to the cross.
11. To be most inhumanely presented with gall and vinegar
to drink in Thy extreme thirst.
12. For me to hang naked, wounded, and condemned in
inconceivable torments many hours on the cross;
13. There to shed Thy most Precious Blood, and to offer
Thy life a propitiation for my sins.
14. To be sealed up in the grave, from whence, notwithstanding,
Thou didst raise Thyself, conquering death for me.
O blessed Jesus, my only Hope and Salvation, grant that I
may love Thee with a most fervent and constant love.
O rosy wounds of my Lord, inflicted for me, I salute you.
With what love were you suffered by Him! And what love do
you deserve from me!
3. Acts of Humiliation, &c.
Behold, O most merciful Saviour, I, a most abominable
sinner, in imitation of Thy most glorious humility, do submit
myself to all creatures, acknowledging myself unworthy to live
on earth; and, after the example of Thy most admirable
charity, I do with sincere love, according to my utmost ability,
embrace all those that do afflict or persecute me.
For Thy love I do renounce all iniquity and vanity, all
inordinate delectations, all self-will and immortification.
I do relinquish and reject all things below Thee; and above
all I do make election of Thee, as my only good.
I do commit and resign myself entirely to Thee.
I do desire and beseech Thee that Thy most perfect and
well-pleasing will may be accomplished in me and concerning
me, in time and eternity.
For Thy love and glory I am ready to want any consolation,
and to suffer any injury, contempt, or tribulation. If such be
4. Address to the Blessed Virgin, &c.
O Mary, the most sweet Virgin Mother of our Lord, the
most glorious Queen of Heaven, intercede for me to thy Son.
O merciful protectress of the oppressed,
Support of the weak and infirm,
Refuge of afflicted sinners, look with thine eyes of pity on me.
By thine intercession let my heart be inflamed with a most
ardent love unto our Lord Jesus Christ.
O all you glorious Angels and blessed Saints, intercede for me.
O thou blessed angel appointed by God to be my sure
guardian and most comfortable companion in this valley of
tears, pray for me.
O thou my most special patron S. Benedict, intercede in my
behalf unto our Lord, that, living according to thy perfect rule
and example, I may with thee contemplate His beautifying
face.
5. Petitions to our Lord for Grace, &c.
My Lord and my God, with the company and assistance
of these Thy beloved Saints, I take the boldness to make known
unto Thee my miseries and defects, beseeching Thee to cure
them all.
Mortify in me whatsoever is displeasing to Thee.
Adorn me with merits and graces acceptable in Thy sight.
Give me true humility, obedience, meekness, patience, and
charity.
Grant me a perfect restraint and dominion over my tongue
and all my senses and members.
Give me true internal purity, nakedness, liberty, and most
profound introversion.
Illuminate my soul with Thy most pure divine light.
I acknowledge that Thou art most immediately and intimely
present to me, and in the very centre of my spirit.
6. Supplication in Behalf of the Church, &c.
O my God, be graciously merciful to all those whom Thou
hast redeemed with Thy most Precious Blood.
Convert all miserable sinners to Thee.
Restore all heretics and schismatics unto the bosom of Thy
Church; illuminate all infidels that are ignorant of Thee.
Be present to all that are in any tribulation or necessity.
Bless all my parents, kindred, acquaintance, and benefactors.
Give unto the living pardon and grace; and to all the faithful
departed light and rest everlasting.
7. Adoration, of the Most Blessed Trinity.
O most Holy, Glorious, and Ever-blessed Trinity, Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost; One omnipotent, most wise, most holy,
and most merciful God;
I do in the profound abyss of mine own nothing adore Thee,
my most gracious God.
Vouchsafe to teach and assist me, whose hope is only in
Thee.
O Heavenly Father, by Thine infinite power establish my
memory in Thee, fill it with holy and divine thoughts; O eternal
Son of Thy coeternal Father, by Thine infinite wisdom illuminate
mine understanding, and adorn it with the knowledge of
Thy supreme excellency and mine own incomprehensible vileness.
O Holy Spirit, the most pure love ofthe Father and Son, by
Thine infinite goodness inflame my soul with an inextinguishable
ardour of divine love.
8. Amorous Aspirations, &c.
My Lord and my God.N.B. If this or the following exercise seem to any too long, it may be divided into several hours for recollection; or it may be comprehended briefly in a few words, or even without words. So saith Blosius.
EXERCITIUM QUOTIDIANUM.
1. Confessionis et Doloris de Peccatis.
2. Hymnus Passionis.
Et nunc quae est expectatio mea? nonne Tu Domine Jesu
Deus meus, misericordia mea.
Memor ero ab initio mirabilium Tuorum: et misericordias
Tuas, Domine, in aeternum cantabo.
Omnes nos quasi oves erravimus et posuit Dominus in Te
iniquitatem omnium nostrum?
Jacebas consternatus super faciem Tuam: et vultus Tuus
haerebat terrae.
Non remansit in To fortitudo: sed et species Tua immutata
est in Te.
Rubrum factum est vestimentum Tuum: quia calcasti torcular solus.
Circumdederunt Te canes multi: concilium malignantium obsedit Te.
3. Oblationis et Resignationis, &c.
Quid retribuam Tibi, Domine Jesu, pro omnibus quae retribuisti mihi?
Tu Teipsum totum pro me obtulisti: factus es pro me maledictum.
Ecce, Domine, totum me offero Tibi: et omnia mea Tuae subjicio
voluntati.
Suscepi de manu Tua crucem: portabo eam usque ad mortem,
sicut imposuisti mihi.
Omnes homines et maxime eos qui me persequuntur, sincera
charitate, sicut possum, complector.
Abrenuncio (falsae illi) paci quae completionem carnalium meorum desideriorum sequitur; et non eorumdem mortificationem.
Non recuso vivere, si its volueris, in eadem paupertate et derelictione, in qua Tu, Domino Jesu, vixisti.
Domine quaecumque mihi ex Tua permissione contigerit afflictio, desertio vel ariditas, Tua mihi adsistente gratia, nec omittam, nec ex negligentia contraham quotidiana mea internae vitae exercitia.
Deus meus, ex toto corde oro Te, ut glorifices Teipsum in me, et de me, quocumque demum modo Tibi placuerit.
Domino, pro Tuo amore renuntio omni desiderio auctoritatis aut praelationis.
Utinam tandem, Domine, meipsum a meipso abstraheres et a pereuntibus omnibus et perdentibus desideriis.
Ecce meipsum Tibi resigno, Domino, non solum ut superiorum meorum favore priver, sed ut ab ipsis contemnar, et quovis modo affligar.
Domine, corpus et animam meam dicavi Tibi: conserva haec sicut placet; et impende ea sicut placet Tibi: in obsequium et gloriam Tuam.
Deus meus, donec perfecte humiliaveris superbum cor meum, ne parcas immittere vel multiplicare quascumque volueris cruces aut contradictiones.
Offero meipsum Tibi, ad perferendas quascumquedesolationes et obscuritates, quae contingere solent in internae vitae exercitiis: quibus nihil obstantibus, propositum cordis mei perficias de non interrupta in eis perseverentia. Domine, pone me juxta te et cujusvis manus pugnet contra me.
Domino, quamvis faciem Tuam semper a me averteres, et nunquam mihi aliquam consolationem indulgeres: tamen auxilio gratiae Tuae nunquam cessabo Te diligere, adorare et quaerere.
O tepiditas, quantum abominor te! Deus meus, non sint novissima mea pejora prioribus.
Domine, ex amore Tuc resigno me Divinae voluntati Tuae, ad moriendum, quando, ubi et quomodo ordinaveris.
Deus meus, Tu me hic collocasti: et Tu solus me alio transferes.
Domine, nihil a me necessarium aestimabitur nisi ut attendam ad Te per orationem et mei abnegationem.
Domine, Jesu, novi quia qui fugit crucem, fugit Crucifixum gratissima ergo erit mihi crux, quam imponere dignaberis.
Domine, si vis me esse in luce, sis benedictus: et si vis me esse in tenebris, sis benedictus. Lux et tenebrae benedicite Dominum.
Deus meus et omne bonum meum! quando duces animam meam in solitudinem Tuam?
Nihil sum Domine, et nihil sim, ut Tu solus sis omnia.Non solum ignoscas, Domine Deus, tribulantibus me: sed et peculiarem aliquam gratiam eis conferas, utpote salutis meae efficacissimis instrumentis.
4. Precatio ad B. Virginem et Sanctos.
O beatissima Virgo Mater Dei, respice in me et intercede pro me!Salus infirmorum; me in tuam benedictam fidem, ac singularem custodiam, et in sinum misericordiae tuae hodie et quotidie et in hora exitus mei commendo.
O Sancti beatorum spirituum ordines;Omnes Sancti et Sanctae Dei; adjuvate me precibus, vestris ut ad societatem vestram pervenire merear.
5. Intercessio pro Ecclesia, &c.
Benigne fac Domine, in bona voluntate Tua Ecclesiae Tuae, pro qua Sacrosanctum Sanguinem Tuum fudisti.
Convertere miseros, peccatores.Adesto propinquis et benefactoribus meis, omnibusque qui precibus meis commendati esse cupiunt.
Benefac iis qui mihi inimico sunt animo.Da vivis veniam et gratiam: da fidelibus defunctis requiem lucemque sempiternam.
6. Adspirationes ad SS. Trinitatem, &c.
O adoranda Trinitas, Pater et Filius et Spiritus Sanctus. Tibi gloria et benedictio in saecula saeculorum.
Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth.Ecce Domine, sicut possum magnifico sapientem et benignam Omnipotentiam Tuam.
Benedico Omnipotenti et benignae sapientiae Tuae.O essentia summe simplex, summe tranquilla et summe amabilis.
O utinam a meipso totus deficerem.O jucunda requies spiritus mei! usquequo non me liberas ab omni proprietate?
O incircumscripta plenitudo omnis boni! Quicquid Tu non es, relinquo.
O ardens incendium! O dulce refrigerium! Amare Dei Filium.
Deus meus, non videbit Te homo et vivet: eia Domine moriar, ut videam: videam ut moriar.
Domine, quando dabis mihi immolari?Visibilia omnia mihi invisibilia sint; et invisibilia sola, visibilia.
THE END OF THE EXERCISES.
TO THE DEVOUT READER,
There was a promise made of an Exercise of Aspirations at the end here of the rest; but it will not be needful to repeat them again, having not only in the two precedent exercises, but also in that of amorous desires, given thee sufficient patterns of them. Farewell, and pray for me.
Soli Deo Gloria.
FINIS.
1 This was the case with Father Baker's disciple, Dame Gertrude More; of whom see the Life of Father Baker, p. 50.--J. N. S.
2 *[As it is possible that Father Baker's teaching upon this point of liberty of spirit in prayer may be misunderstood or controverted, I think it well to cite in his favour the advice given by St. Francis of Sales, in the Introduction to a Devout Life, Part II. chap. viii. He says: `You must also know that it shall sometimes happen to you that, immediately after the preparation, your affection shall find itself quite stirred up in God. In that case you must loose the bridle to it, without staying to follow the method I have given to you; for although, commonly speaking, consideration ought to go before affections and resolutions, yet when the Holy Ghost gives you affections before consideration, you must not then seek consideration, since this is used for no other end but to stir up the affection In a word, whensoever affections offer themselves, we must receive them and make room for them, whether they come before or after all the considerations. And although I have placed the affections after all the considerations, I have done it only to distinguish more plainly the parts of prayer; for otherwise it is a general rule never to restrain the affections, but always to let them have their free course when they present themselves.' The Saint is here alluding to the meditations he has drawn out in form in the first part of his work, which were inserted by Bishop Challoner in the Garden of the Soul.--J. N. S.]
3 As probably this work of Father Barbanson is accessible only to a very few, I think it as well to quote what he says at the commencement of his Second Admonition. I quote from an old English translation: `When either here or anywhere else I treat of the leaving of those more gross representations of the sacred mysteries, I would not be understood as if I counselled any so to omit them, as that thereby the stupenous work of our redemption should either be neglected or less esteemed;consist in the operations of the superior, whosoever shall tie himself constantly unto that gross manner of proceeding shall never arrive unto any perfect operations of spirit, whereby he may be elevated unto God really present in his soul, which, notwithstanding, is absolutely necessary, if we ever here expect to obtain an eternal fruition of Him.'--J. N. S.
4 * [It is not possible to recommend too strongly the use of the beautiful acts and aspirations here referred to, which are to be found at the end of this volume. They have the effect of making this golden work to be not only an instruction on prayer, but a prayer-book also. Strange it is, that in an American edition of Sancta Sophia, which appeared a few years ago, although the present chapter appears with its reference to the acts and aspirations, they were not printed, and thus the edition was almost worthless.--J. N. S.]
5 * [Witness the instance of the seraphic St. Francis cf Assisi, in whose life it is stated that in the night-time `the servant of God arose, and falling on his knees, with his eyes lifted up and his arms across, he repeated very slowly, with abundance of tears the whole night, Deus meus et omnia!--My God and my All!'--J. N. S.]
6 * Notwithstanding all the approbations which were at one time given to this work of Antonio de Rojas, it was condemned by the Holy See, and placed upon the Index Expurgatorius, where we find: `ROJAS, ANTONIO. Vita dello Spirito, ore s'impara a far orazione, ed unirsi con Dio. (Decr. 29 Dec. 1689).' Father Baker died in 1641, some fifty years before the condemnation of this book; otherwise, if he had known the sentiments of the Holy See in its regard, he would not have given it the partial recommendation which he bestows. Two years before the insertion in the Index of this work of Rojas, Pope Innocent XI. had condemned 68 propositions of Molinos, the founder of Quietism. These propositions are accessible in Scavini's Theology, vol. i. appendix i. It is quite evident that Rojas recommends what is here condemned, or at least it would require a very forced and unnatural interpretation to present his meaning in any other light. Molinos taught, and was condemned for so teaching, that true interior life consists in annihilating the powers of the soul. `Oportet hominem suas potentias annihilare: et haec est vita aeterna.' All active operations of the soul he condemned as being offensive to God. `Velle operari active est Deum offendere.' Thus the operations of knowledge and of love, according to him, even when directed towards God, are displeasing to Him; thus denying the old primitive truth, that the end for which God hath made us is to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him, and affirming that the whole duty of men is to do nothing and to attempt nothing. In the seventh of the condemned propositions he forbids all meditation on the four last great truths, Death, Judgment, Hell, and Heaven. In the twelfth of his impious propositions he asserts, that whosoever has given up his free-will to God ought to have no care about anything, neither about hell, nor paradise; nor ought he even to have any desire about his own perfection, nor about the acquisition of virtues, nor about his own sanctification and salvation, all hope of which he ought to drive away. In the fourteenth, the prayer of supplication is forbidden, and it is declared that our divine Lord's command, `Ask, and ye shall receive,' is not meant for interior souls, which are to have no will, whereas asking implies a wish to obtain what is asked for, and is therefore an imperfection. Thanksgiving is forbidden in the next proposition; and others follow which it is beyond our present purpose, and certainly far from our desire, to allude to.
Although in the prayer of internal silence of Antonio de Rojas acts are required in the preparation, such as examination of conscience, contrition, resignation, faith, and the presence of God, yet when afterwards express acts towards God are discountenanced, and it is declared that an advantage of this kind of prayer is self-annihilation, and that resignation then becomes so pure that all private interest is forgotten and ignored, we see the prudence and watchfulness of the Holy See in cautioning her children against a book which, if it does not expressly, distinctly, and advisedly teach it, yet conveys the impression that a state of pure charity excludes all private interest, such as fear of punishment and hope of reward, and that perfection implies such a state.
In the year 1699, ten years after the work of Antonio de Rojas was condemned, Pope Innocent XII. condemned certain propositions contained in the Maximes des Saints of the illustrious Archbishop Fenelon, the second of which declared that in the state of the contemplative or unitive life every interested motive of fear and love is lost. `In statu vitae contemplativae, seu unitivae, amittitur omne motivum interessatum timoris et spei.' Now when De Rojas, in addition to what he calls the most perfect operation of self-annihilation, gives as an additional recommendation to his mode of prayer, that resignation is so pure that `the soul forgets all private interests, has nothing at all to ask for,' we can at once see what danger accompanies such an exercise, if that can be called an exercise where all activity ceases and prayer is really excluded.
In publishing the present edition of Sancta Sophia, I hesitated some time whether it might not be better to omit this chapter altogether, but I felt it would not be classical nor honest to do so. Those who read the book, and who are eager to advance in perfection, will take this note which I subjoin as a signal and a caution, and will be careful to keep at a safe distance from danger. I believe that Father Baker would himself have omitted the chapter, and that Father Cressy, who also died before these wise censures of the Holy See were pronounced, would have excluded it from his selection of the writings of this Holy man, if the question which afterwards arose and was decided had been agitated in their time.
The whole teaching of Father Baker is in direct opposition to the Quietism of Molinos, and the semi-Quietism of Madame Guyon and Fenelon. His earnest exhortation to enter with energy and activity upon the exercises of the spiritual life; his acceptance of three degrees of an interior life, purgative, illuminative, and unitive, which are rejected by Molinos, in the 26th of his condemned propositions, as being the height of absurdity; his assignation of a kind of prayer proper to each of these states, namely, meditation, the preyer of forced acts, and the prayer of aspirations; the beautiful collection of acts which are appended to Sancta Sophia; his warnings against cessation from prayer, and his insisting upon its being persevered in, in spite of every temptation and obstacle; the example of his life; his training to perfection of his two most prominent disciples, Dames Catherine Gascoigne and Gertrude More, the latter of whom he led on through a course of constant trials and anything but the career of a Quietest; all these circumstances tend to recommend Father Baker's system as an antidote against a danger, to which the false mysticism of Molinos and others would lead.--J. N. S.
7 * Father Leander Jones, better known as F. Leander de Sto. Martino was born in London in the year 1575; was educated first in Merchant-Taylors' School, and afterwards, at the early age of sixteen, was elected scholar of St. John's College, Oxford, where he occupied the same chambers with William Laud, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury. Upon leaving the University he became a Catholic, and afterwards joined the Benedictine Order in the Abbey of Compostella, where he was professed about A.D. 1600. He took the degree of D.D. in the University of Salamanca. In the year 1619 he became the first President-General of the English Benedictine Congregation as it now exists. In 1621 he became Prior of St. Gregory's at Douai, and in 1633 was again appointed President-General. He died during this term of office on the 27th of December, A.D. 1635.
Father Rudesind Barlow was of the ancient Lancashire family of that name. He held the office of Prior of St. Gregory's from the year 1614 till 1621. in which year he became President-General, which office he held till the General Chapter in 1629. He lectured in Divinity in the College of St. Vedast at Douai for forty years. He held the degree of Doctor of Divinity, and was considered one of the first theologians of his age, He died on the 19th of September, A.D. 1656.--J. N. S.