MEANS BY WHICH TO ATTAIN THE INTERIOR LIFE
1. _Great tenderness of Conscience_, secured by constant, regular, and earnest confession to G.o.d, a hatred of all sin, imperfection, infidelity, by calmly but resolutely fleeing every occasion of it.
2. _Great purity of heart_, by detachment from all earthly things,--wealth, luxuries, fame, kindred, friends, tastes, even life itself ... not that we need fail in love to our kindred and friends, but we must only let the thought of them abide in the heart as united to the love and thought of G.o.d.
3. _Great purity of mind_, carefully excluding from it all useless, distracting thoughts as to past, present, or future; all preoccupation over some pet employment; all desire to be known, and thought well of.
4. _Great purity of action_, only undertaking what lies in the path of duty; controlling natural eagerness and activity; acting soberly, with the help of the HOLY SPIRIT, the thought that by our deeds we glorify G.o.d: pausing for a moment, when pa.s.sing from one occupation to another, in order to direct aright the intention; and taking care to be always occupied in what is useful and beneficial.
5. _Great recollectedness and self-mortification_; avoiding, as much as we can in keeping with our social position, all dissipation, bustle, disturbance; never allowing voluntarily, useless desires, looks, words, or pleasures, but placing them under the rule of reason, decorum, edification, and love; taking care that our prayers be said slowly and carefully, articulating each word, and trying to _feel_ the truth of what we are saying.
6. _Great care and exact.i.tude_ in all the ordinary actions of life, above all in the exercises of religion; leaving nothing to chance or hazard; beholding in everything G.o.d"S overruling Will, and saying to one"s self sometimes, as the hour for such and such duty arrives, "I must hasten, G.o.d is calling me."
7. _Much intercourse with G.o.d_; speaking to Him with simplicity, loving Him dearly, always consulting Him, rendering to Him an account of every action, thanking Him constantly, and above all, drawing near to Him with joy in the Holy Eucharist. One great help towards such sweet communion with G.o.d, will be found in a steady perseverance in the early morning"s meditation.
8. _Much love for our neighbor_, because he is the much-loved child of G.o.d, praying for him, comforting, teaching, strengthening, and helping him in all difficulties.
HINDRANCES TO THE INTERIOR LIFE
1. _Natural activity_, always urging us on, and making us too precipitate in all our actions.
It shows itself:--
_In our projects_, which it multiplies, heaps up, reforms, and upsets. It allows of no rest, until what it has undertaken is accomplished.
_In our actions._ Activity is absolutely necessary to us. We load ourselves with a thousand things beyond our duty, sometimes even contrary to it. Everything is done with impetuosity and haste, anxiety and impatience to see the end.
_In our conversation._ Activity makes us speak without thinking, interrupting rudely, reproving hastily, judging without appreciation. We speak loudly, disputing, murmuring, and losing our temper.
_In prayer._ We burden ourselves with numberless prayers, repeated carelessly, without attention, and with impatience to get to the end of them; it interferes with our meditations, wearies, torments, fatigues the brain, drying up the soul, and hindering the work of the HOLY SPIRIT.
2. _Curiosity_ lays the soul open to all external things, fills it with a thousand fancies and questionings, pleasing or vexatious, absorbing the mind, and making it quite impossible to retire within one"s self and be recollected. Then follow distaste, sloth, and ennui for all that savors of silence, retirement, and meditation.
Curiosity shows itself, when _studies_ are undertaken from vanity, a desire to know all things, and to pa.s.s as clever, rather than the real wish to learn in order to be useful--in _reading_, when the spare time is given up to history, papers, and novels--in _walking_, when our steps would lead us where the crowd go to see, to know, only in order to have something to retail; in fact, it manifests itself in a thousand little actions; for instance, pressing forward with feverish haste to open a letter addressed to us, longing eagerly to see anything that presents itself, always being the first to tell any piece of news.... When we forget G.o.d, He is driven from the heart, leaving it void, and then ensues that wild craving to fill up the void with anything with which we may come into contact.
3. _Cowardice._ G.o.d does not forbid patient, submissive pleading, but murmuring fears are displeasing to Him, and He withdraws from the soul that will not lean on Him. Cowardice manifests itself when in the _trials of life_ we rebel against the Divine will that sends us illness, calumny, privation, desertion; when in _dryness of soul_ we leave off our prayers and communions because we feel no sensible sweetness in them; when we feel a sickness of the soul that makes us uneasy, and fearful that G.o.d has forsaken us.
The soul estranged from G.o.d seeks diversion in the world; but in the midst of the world, G.o.d is not to be found; when temptations come, wearied, frightened, and tormented, we wander farther and farther away from Him, crying, "I am forsaken," when the trial has really been sent in order to keep us on our guard, prevent our becoming proud, and offering us an opportunity for showing our love.
V.
THE LESSON OF A DAISY
I saw her from afar, poor child; she looked dreamy as she leaned against the window, and held in her hand a daisy, which she was questioning by gradually pulling it to pieces. What she wanted to ascertain I cannot tell; I only heard in a low murmur, falling from her pale lips, these words: "_a little, a great deal, pa.s.sionately, not __ at all_," as each petal her fingers pulled away fell fluttering at her feet.
I could see her from a distance, and I felt touched.
Poor child, why do you tell a flower the thought that troubles you? have you no mother?
Why be anxious about the future? have you not G.o.d to prepare it for you, as tenderly as eighteen years ago your mother prepared your cradle?
Finally, when the daisy was all but gone, when her fingers stopped at the last petal, and her lips murmured the word _little_, she dropped her head upon her arms, discouraged, and, poor child, she wept!
Why weep, my child? is it because this word does not please you?
Let me, let me, in the name of the simple daisy you have just destroyed, give you the experience of my old age.
Oh! if you only knew what it costs to have _much_ of anything!
_A great deal of wit_ often results in spitefulness which makes us cruel and unjust, in jealousy that torments, in deception that sullies all our triumphs, and pride which is never satisfied.
_A great deal of heart_ causes uneasiness which vexes, pain that rends asunder, grief that nearly kills ... sometimes even the judgment is deceived.
_A great deal of attractiveness_ means often a consuming vanity, overwhelming deception, an insatiable desire to please, a fear of being unappreciated, a loss of peace, domestic life much neglected.
_A great deal of wealth and success_ is the cause of luxury that enfeebles, loss of calm, quiet happiness, loss of love, leaving only the flattery that captivates.
No, no, my child, never long for _a great deal_ in this life, unless it be for much forbearance, much goodness.
And if it should be G.o.d"S Will to give you _much_ of anything, then, oh, pray it may never be to your condemnation!
Is _Pa.s.sionately_ the word you long for? Pa.s.sionately! oh, the harm that is done by that word! there is something in the thought of it that makes me shudder. Pa.s.sionately means transport, frenzy, excess in everything.
The life that the word _pa.s.sionately_ describes must be a life full of risks and dangers; and if, by little short of a miracle, nothing outwardly wrong appears, the inner life must resemble a palace ravaged by fire, where the stranger sees nothing but cracked walls, blackened furniture, and drapery hanging in shreds.
My child, I would prefer for you the words _not at all_, as applied to fortune, external charms, and all that goes by the name of glory, success, and fascination in the world. I know it may seem a hard sentence, involving a continual self-denial, and exacting incessant hard labor to obtain the bare necessities of life for those we love.
But do not be afraid of it. G.o.d never leaves His creatures in absolute need. G.o.d may deprive a face of beauty, a character of amiability, a mind of brilliancy, but He will never take away a heart of love; with the faculty of loving, He adds the power of prayer, and the promise always to listen to and answer it.
As long as we can love and pray, life has charms for us.
Love produces devotion, and devotion brings happiness, even though we may not understand it.
In prayer we feel we are beloved; and the love of G.o.d, oh, if only you knew how it compensates for the indifference of our fellow-creatures!