Chapter VII: Interior Mortification, or Abnegation of Self-love—Obedience

Necessity of combating Self-love.—Practical Rules.

There are two sorts of self-love: the one good, the other pernicious. The former is that which makes us seek eternal life—the end of our creation; the latter inclines us to pursue earthly goods, and to prefer them to our everlasting welfare, and to the holy will of God. “The celestial Jerusalem,” says St. Augustine, “is built up by loving God so as to condemn one’s self; but the earthly city is raised by loving self so as to despise Almighty God.”¹ Hence, Jesus Christ has said: // any man will come after me, let him deny himself.² Christian perfection, then, consists in self-abnegation. Whoever denies not himself, cannot be a follower of Jesus Christ. “The augmentation of charity,” says St. Augustine, “is the diminution of cupidity: the perfection of charity is its destruction.”³ The less, then, a Christian desires to indulge passion, the more he will love God; and if he seeks nothing but God, he will then possess perfect charity. But in the present state of corrupt nature it is not possible to be altogether exempt from the molestation of self-love. Jesus alone among men, and Mary alone among women, have been free from its suggestions. All the other saints had to combat their irregular passions. The principal and the only care of a religious should be, to restrain the inordinate inclinations of self-love. “To regulate the motions of the soul is,” as St. Augustine says, “the office of interior mortification.”¹

¹ “Two loves made two cities: love of self even to contempt of God made the earthly city; love of God even to contempt of self made the heavenly city.”—De Civ. D. l. 14, c. 28.

² “Si quis vult post me venire, abneget semetipsum.”—Matt. xvi. 24.

³ “Nutrimentum charitatis est imminutio cupiditatis; perfectio, nulla cupiditas.”—De div. quæst. q. 36.

¹ “Regere motus animi.”—Serm. 196, E. B.

Unhappy the soul that suffers itself to be ruled by its own inclinations. “A domestic enemy,” says St. Bernard, “is the worst of foes.”² The devil and the world continually seek our destruction, but self-love is a still more dangerous enemy. “Self-love,” says St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi, “is like a worm which corrodes the roots of a plant, deprives us not only of fruit, but of life.” In another place she says, “Self-love is the most deceitful of all enemies: like Judas, it betrays us with the kiss of peace. Whoever overcomes it conquers all. He that cannot cut it off by a single stroke should at least endeavor to destroy it by degrees.” We must pray continually, in the language of Solomon: Give me not over to a shameless and foolish mind.³ O my God, do not abandon me to my foolish passions, that seek to destroy in my soul Thy holy fear, and even to deprive me of the use of my reason.

² “Magis nocet domesticus hostis.”—Medit. c. 13.

³ “Animæ irreverenti et infrunitæ ne tradas me.”—Ecclus. xxiii. 6.

Our whole life must be one continued contest. The life of a man upon earth, says Job, is a warfare.⁴ Now he that is placed in the front of battle must be always prepared for an attack: as soon as he ceases to defend himself he is conquered. And here it is necessary to remark, that the soul should never cease to combat her passions, however great her victories over them may have been; for human passions, though conquered a thousand times, never die. “Believe me,” says St. Bernard, “that after being cut off they bud forth again; and after being put to flight they return.”¹ Hence by struggling with concupiscence we can only render its attacks less frequent, less violent, and more easy to be subdued. A certain monk complained to the Abbot Theodore that he had contended for eight years with his passions, and that still they were not extinguished. “Brother,” replied the abbot, “you complain of this warfare of eight years, and I have spent seventy years in solitude, and during all that time I have not been for a single day free from assaults of passion.” ² We shall be subject during our mortal lives to the molestation of our passions. “But,” as St. Gregory says, “it is one thing to look at these monsters, and another to shelter them in our hearts.” ³ It is one thing to hear their roar, and another to admit them into our souls, and suffer them to devour us.

⁴ “Militia est vita hominis super terram.”—Job, vii. 1.

¹ “Credite mihi, et putata repullulant, et effugata redeunt.”—In Cant. s. 58.

² Vit. Patr. l. 5, libell. 7, n. 5.

³ “It is one thing to behold these beasts raging in the field of action, and another to hold them roaring within the cave of the heart.”—A/or. 1. 6, c. 22.

The human soul is a garden in which useless and noxious herbs constantly spring up: we must, therefore, by the practice of holy mortification continually hold the mattock in our hands to root them up and banish them from our hearts; otherwise our souls will become a wild, uncultivated waste, covered with briers and thorns. “Conquer yourself,” was an expression always on the lips of St. Ignatius of Loyola, and the text of his familiar discourses to his religious. Conquer self-love and break down your own will. Few (he would say) of those who practise mental prayer become saints, because few of them endeavor to overcome themselves. “Of a hundred persons,” says the saint, “devoted to prayer, more than ninety are self-willed.” Hence he preferred a single act of mortification of self-will to long prayer, accompanied with many spiritual consolations. “What does it avail,” says Gilbert, “to close the gates, if famine—the internal enemy—produce general affliction?”¹ What does it profit us to mortify the exterior senses and to perform exercises of devotion while at the same time we cherish in our hearts rancor, ambition, attachment to self-will and to self-esteem, or any other passion which brings ruin on the soul?

¹ “Quid proficit clausos esse aditus, si intus hostis fames cuncta contristat?”—/;; Cant. s. 26.

St. Francis Borgia says that prayer introduces the love of God into the soul, but mortification prepares a place for it, by banishing from the heart earthly affections—the most powerful obstacles to charity. Whoever goes for water to the fountain must cleanse the vessel of the earth which it may contain; otherwise he will bring back mire instead of water. “Prayer without mortification,” says Father Balthasar Alvarez, “is either an illusion, or lasts but for a short time.” And St. Ignatius asserts that a mortified Christian acquires a more perfect union with God in a quarter of an hour’s prayer, than an unmortified soul does by praying for several hours. Hence, whenever he heard that any one spent a great deal of time in mental prayer, he said: “It is a sign that he practises great mortification.”

There are some religious who perform a great many exercises of devotion, who practise frequent Communion, long meditations, fasting, and other corporal austerities, but make no effort to overcome certain little passions—for example, certain resentments, aversions, curiosity, and certain dangerous affections. They will not submit to any contradiction; they will not give up attachment to certain persons, nor subject their will to the commands of their Superiors, or to the holy will of God. What progress can they make in perfection? Unhappy souls! they will be always imperfect: always out of the way of sanctity. “They,” says St. Augustine, “run well, but out of the way.” They imagine that they run well because they practise the works of piety which their own self-will suggests; but they shall be forever out of the way of perfection, which consists in conquering self. “Thou shalt advance,” says the devout Thomas a Kempis, “in proportion to the violence thou shalt have offered to thyself.”¹ I do not mean to censure vocal prayer, or acts of penance, or the other spiritual works. But, because all exercises of devotion are but the means of practising virtue, the soul should seek in them only the conquest of its passions. Hence, in our Communions, meditations, visits to the Blessed Sacrament, and other similar exercises, we ought always to beseech Almighty God to give us strength to practise humility, mortification, obedience, and conformity to his holy will. In every Christian it is a defect to act from a motive of self-satisfaction. But in a religious who makes a particular profession of perfection and mortification it is a much greater fault. “God,” says Lactantius, “calls to life by labor; the devil, to death by delights.” The Lord brings his servants to eternal life by mortification; but the devil leads sinners to everlasting death by pleasure and self-indulgence.

¹ “Tantum proficies, quantum tibi ipsi vim intuleris.”—/mi/. Chr. 1. 1, c. 23.

Even works of piety must be always undertaken with a spirit of detachment; so that whenever our efforts are unsuccessful we shall not be disturbed, and when our exercises of devotion are prohibited by the Superior we shall give them up with cheerfulness. Self-attachment of every kind hinders a perfect union with God. We must therefore seriously and firmly resolve to mortify our passions, and not to submit to be their slaves. External as well as interior mortification is necessary for perfection: but with this difference, that the former should be practised with discretion; the latter without discretion, and with fervor. What does it profit us to mortify the body while the passions of the heart are indulged? “Of what use is it,” says St. Jerome, “to reduce the body by abstinence, if the soul is swelled with pride?—or to abstain from wine, and to be inebriated with hatred?”¹ It is useless to chastise the body by fasting while pride inflates the heart to such a degree that we cannot bear a word of contempt or the refusal of a request. In vain do we abstain from wine while the soul is intoxicated with anger against all who thwart our designs or oppose our inclinations. No wonder, then, that St. Bernard deplored the miserable state of religious who wear the external garb of humility, and at the same time inwardly cherish their passions. “They,” says the saint, “are not divested of their vices: they only cover them by the outward sign of penance.”

By attention to the mortification of self-love we shall become saints in a short time, and without the risk of injury to health; for since God is the only witness of interior acts, they will not expose us t-o the danger of being puffed up with pride. Oh! what treasures of virtue and of merits are laid up by stifling in their very birth those little inordinate desires and affections, those bickerings, those suggestions of curiosity, those bursts of wit and humor, and all similar effects of selflove! When you are contradicted, give up your opinion with cheerfulness, unless the glory of God require that you maintain it. When feelings of self-esteem spring up in your heart, make a sacrifice of them to Jesus Christ. If you receive a letter, restrain your curiosity, and abstain from opening it for some time. If you desire to read the termination of an interesting narrative, lay aside the book, and defer the reading of it to another time. When you feel inclined to mirth, to pull a flower, or to look at any object, suppress these inclinations for the love of Jesus Christ, and deprive yourself for his sake of the pleasure of indulging them. A thousand acts of this kind may be performed in the day. Father Leonard of Port Maurice relates that a servant of God performed eight acts of mortification in eating an egg, and that it was afterwards revealed to her that as the reward of her self-denial eight degrees of grace and as many degrees of glory were bestowed upon her. It is also narrated of St. Dositheus, that by similar mortifications of the interior he arrived in a short time at a high degree of perfection. Though unable, in consequence of bodily infirmities, to fast or to discharge the other duties of the Community, he attained so perfect an union with God, that the other monks, struck with wonder at his sublime sanctity, asked him what exercises of virtue he performed. u The exercise,” replied the saint, “to which I have principally attended is the mortification of all self-will.”

¹ “What profit is it to be made thin by abstinence if the spirit swells with pride? What profit is it not to drink wine and to be intoxicated with hatred?”—Ep. ad Celant.

Blessed Joseph Calasanctius used to say that “the day which is spent without mortification is lost.” To convince us of the necessity of mortification, the Redeemer has chosen a life of self-denial, full of pains and ignominy, and destitute of all sensible pleasure. Hence he is called by Isaias a man of sorrows.¹ He might have saved the world, amid the enjoyment of honors and delights; but he preferred to redeem it by sorrows and contempt. Who having joy set before him, endured the cross.² To give us an example, he renounced the joy which was set before him, and embraced the cross. “Reflect again and again,” says St. Bernard, “on the life of Jesus, and you will find him always on the cross.”¹ The Redeemer revealed to St. Catharine of Bologna that the sorrows of his passion began in his mother’s womb. For his birth he selected the season, the place, and the hour most adapted to excite pain. During life he chose to be poor, unknown, despised; and, dying, he preferred the most painful, the most ignominious, and the most desolate of all sorts of death which human nature could suffer. St. Catharine of Sienna used to say, that as a mother takes the bitterest medicine to restore the health of the infant she suckles, so Jesus Christ has assumed all the pains of life to heal the infirmities of his children.

¹ “Virum dolorum.”—Is. liii. 3.

² “Froposito sibi gaudio, sustinuit crucem.”—Hebr. xii. 2.

¹ “Volve et revolve vitam Jesu; semper eum invenies in cruce.”

Thus he invites all his followers to accompany him to the mountain of myrrh; that is, of bitterness and of sorrows. I will go to the mountain of myrrh.² Behold, he invites us to follow him if we wish for his company. “Do you come,” says St. Peter Damian, “to Jesus crucified? If you do, you must come already crucified, or to be crucified.”³ If, O sacred spouse, you come to embrace your crucified Saviour, you must bring with you a heart already crucified, or to be crucified. Speaking especially of his virginal spouses, Jesus Christ said to blessed Baptist Varani: The crucified Bridegroom desires a crucified spouse. Hence, to be the true spouses of Jesus, religious must lead lives of continual mortification and self-denial. Always bearing about in our body the mortification of Jesus.⁴ They must never seek their own satisfaction, in any action or desire, but the pleasure of Jesus Christ, crucifying for his sake all their inclinations. They that are Christ’s have crucified their flesh, with the vices and concupiscences.¹ Religious, if they expect to be recognized as the spouses of the Redeemer, must transfix all their passions.

² “Vadam ad montem myrrhae.”—Cant. iv. 6.

³ “Venis ad Crucifixum? Crucifixus venias, aut crucifigendus.”—De Exalt. S. Cruc. s. I.

⁴ “Semper mortificationem J su in corpore nostro circumferentes.”— 2 Cor. iv. lo.

¹ “Qui sunt Christi, carnem suam crucifixerunt cum vitiis et concupiscentiis.”—Gal. v. 24.

Let us now see what are the means by which the spirit of interior mortification may be acquired.

I. The first means is, to discover the passion which predominates in our heart, and which most frequently leads us into sin; and then to endeavor to conquer it. St. Gregory says, that to overcome the devil we must avail ourselves of the artifices by which he seeks our destruction. He labors continually to increase in us the violence of the passion to which we are most subject; and we must direct our attention principally to the extirpation of that passion. Whoever subdues his predominant passion will easily conquer all other evil inclinations; but he that is under its sway can make no progress in perfection. “Of what advantage,” says St. Ephrem, “are wings to the eagle when his foot is chained?”² Oh! how many religious are there who, like the royal eagle, are capable of lofty flights in the way of God, and who, because they are bound by earthly attachments, never fly, and never advance in holiness. St. John of the Cross says, that a slender thread is sufficient to fetter a soul that flies not with eagerness to its God. Besides, he that submits to the tyranny of any passion, not only does not go forward in the way of virtue, but is exposed to great danger of being lost. If a religious neglects to subdue her ruling passion, other mortifications will be unprofitable to her. Some despise worldly riches, but are full of self-esteem. If they do not endeavor to bear the humiliations which they receive, their contempt of mammon will profit them but little. Others, on the contrary, are patient and humble, but enslaved to the love of money. If they do not mortify the desire of wealth, their patience and humility in bearing with contempt will be of little use to them.

² “Quid aquilae prosunt alae, capto pede?”

O sacred virgin, resolve then, with a resolute will, to subdue the evil inclination which is most predominant in your heart. A resolute will, aided by the grace of God (which is never wanting), conquers all difficulties. St. Francis de Sales was very prone to anger; but by continual violence to himself he became a model of meekness and of sweetness. We read in his life that he bore without murmur or complaint the injuries and calumnies which, to try his patience, were by the divine permission heaped upon him. As soon as one passion is subdued we must endeavor to overcome the others; for a single unmortified passion will be sufficient to lead the soul to destruction. St. Joseph Calasanctius asserts that while a single passion reigns in a heart, though all the others should have been extirpated, the soul shall never enjoy tranquillity. “A ship,” says St. Cyril, “however strong and perfect it may be, will be unsafe while the smallest hole remains in the bottom.”¹ And St. Augustine says: “Trample under foot passions already subdued, and combat those that still offer resistance.”² If you wish to be a saint, I advise you to entreat the Superior and director to point out the way in which you ought to walk. Tell them not to spare you, but to contradict your inclinations as often as they shall judge it useful to you. “Be of an upright and perfect will,” says that great servant of God, Cardinal Petrucci. St. Teresa³ relates that she derived more advantage from one of her confessors, who sought on all occasions to oppose her desires, than from all the others. She adds, that she was frequently tempted to leave him; and that, as often as she yielded to the suggestion of the devil, God rebuked her severely. “Every time,” says the saint, “I resolved to leave him, I felt within me a rebuke more painful than the conduct of my confessor towards me.”

¹ “Navis, quantumcumque integra, nihil prodest, si parvum fundo foramen relinquat.”—Int. op. S. Aug. ep. 19, App. E. B.

² “Calca jacentem, conflige cum resistente.”—Serm. 156, E. B.

³ Life, ch. 26.

II. The second means to obtain the spirit of interior mortification is, to resist the passions, and to beat them down before they acquire strength. If one of them become strong by habitual indulgence, the subjugation of it will be exceedingly difficult. “Lest cupidity,” says St. Augustine, “should gain strength, strike it to the ground whilst it is weak.”¹ Sometimes it will happen that a religious will feel inclined to make use of an angry expression, or to entertain an affection for a certain person. If she do not resist these desires in the beginning, the slight wound, inflicted by her consent to them, shall soon become incurable. “Unless,” says St. Ephrem, “you quickly take away the passions, they produce an ulcer.”² One of the ancient monks, as we learn from St. Dorotheus,³ has beautifully illustrated this doctrine. He commanded one of his disciples to pluck up a young cypress. The disciple executed the command without difficulty. The Superior then told him to pull up another tree of greater growth: to perform this task all the strength of the young monk was necessary. Lastly, the venerable Father commanded the disciple to tear up a tree which had taken deep root. In obedience to this precept the young religious exerted all his strength; but his efforts were fruitless—the tree was immovable. Behold, said the old man, how easily our passions are eradicated in the beginning and how difficult it is to conquer them after they have acquired strength and vigor by evil habits. This truth is confirmed by daily experience. A religious when she receives an insult feels within a motion of resentment; if in the beginning she stifles the spark, and silently offers to God the sacrifice of her feelings, the fire is extinguished, she escapes unhurt, and even acquires merit before the Lord. But if she yield to the impulse of passion, if she pause to reflect on the insult she has received, and manifest externally the feelings of her soul—that spark of resentment will soon be kindled into a flame of hatred. Another religious entertains a certain little attachment towards a certain person; if in the beginning she avoid the company of that person, the affection will vanish; but if she encourage the attachment, it will in a short time become sinful and mortal. We must therefore abstain with the greatest care from nourishing our passions—the monsters that would devour us.

¹ “Cum parvula est cupiditas, nequaquam parvæ consuetudinis robur accipiat; elide illam.”—In Ps. cxxxvi.

² “Nisi citius passiones sustuleris, ulcus efficiunt.”—De Perf. mon.

³ Doctr. 11.

III. The third means is, as Cassian says,¹ to endeavor to change the object of our passions, that thus the pernicious and vicious desires of the heart may become salutary and holy. Some are inclined to an inordinate love of all from whom they receive a favor. They should seek to change the object of this propensity, and to turn their affections to God, who is infinitely amiable, and who has bestowed the most inestimable blessings upon them. Others are prone to anger against those who are opposed to them: they ought to direct their resentment against their own sins, which have done them more injury than all the devils in hell could inflict upon them. Others pant after honors and temporal goods: they should aspire to the goods and honors of God’s eternal kingdom.

¹ Collat. 12, c. 5.

But to practise successfully this means of conquering our passions, frequent meditation on the truths of faith, frequent spiritual readings, and frequent reflections on the eternal maxims are indispensably necessary. And, above all, it is necessary to impress deeply on the mind certain fundamental spiritual maxims, such as: “God alone deserves to be loved. Sin is the only evil which we ought to hate. Whatever God wills is good. All worldly goods shall have an end. The most insignificant action, performed for God’s sake, is more profitable than the conversion of the whole world effected from any other motive than the love of God. It is necessary to do what at the hour of death we would wish to have done. We ought to live on this earth as if there were nothing in existence but ourselves and God.” He whose mind is continually filled with holy maxims suffers little molestation from earthly objects, and is always strong enough to resist his corrupt inclinations. The saints have kept their souls always occupied with the truths of eternity, and thus in the time of temptation have been almost insensible to the goods or the evils of this life. To conquer self-love, and to shake off the tyranny of passion, we must above all things pray without ceasing, and continually ask of God the assistance of his grace. He that prays, obtains all God’s gifts: For every one that asketh receiveth.¹ We ought especially to beg the gift of divine love; for to him who loves God, nothing is difficult. Consideration and reflection assist us greatly in the practice of virtue; but in the observance of the divine commands a single spark of the love of God affords more help than a thousand reflections and considerations. Acts of virtue which proceed from reflection are accompanied with labor and violence; but he that loves is not fatigued by doing what pleases his beloved. “He that loves, labors not,”² says St. Augustine. Prayer.

¹ “Omnis enim qui petit accipit.”—Luke, xi. 10.

² “Qui amat, non laborat.”—In Jo. tr. 48.

O my God, after so many graces, so many Communions, and so many good examples of companions; after so many interior lights and loving invitations—my whole soul should at this moment be one flame of divine love. But notwithstanding all Thy favors I am still as imperfect and miserable as ever. Nothing has been wanting on Thy part; the fault is entirely mine, and is to be ascribed to the obstacles which I have opposed to Thy grace by obeying my passions. I see, O my Jesus, that my life has not given glory to Thee, but has rather brought dishonor on Thy name, by exhibiting to others one of Thy spouses so attached to the world and to herself. Thou hast taken me from the world, and I have loved it more than even seculars. O Lord, have mercy upon me; do not abandon me, for I desire to amend. I repent with my whole heart of all the insults which, for the indulgence of my pleasures, I have offered to Thee. I desire to begin to love Thee from this moment. I have abused Thy patience too long, but now I love Thee with my whole soul. From this day forward Thou shalt be the only object of my affections. I desire to leave all, and to do everything in my power to please Thee. Show me Thy will and assist me to execute it, I am ready to please Thee in all things. Do not permit me to be any longer insensible to the excessive love by which Thou hast obliged me to love Thee. I am willing to be deprived of every earthly consolation, and to suffer every cross which Thou wilt please to send me. Dispose of me as Thou pleasest. I desire and hope to belong to Thee entirely and forever. I desire Thee alone, and nothing more.

Mary, my mother, beg of thy Son to hear me; for he denies thee nothing.

Detachment from Self-will.

Nothing is more injurious to religious who have consecrated their will to Jesus Christ than to be guided by the dictates of their own will and inclinations. Hence, to guard against this enemy of the spirit—self-will—the vow of obedience has been prescribed in every religious Order. Nothing but self-will can separate us from God. Neither all the men upon earth nor all the devils in hell can deprive us of his grace. “Let self-will cease,” says St. Bernard, “and there will be no hell.”¹ Let men give up their own will, and for them there shall be no hell. It is self-will that destroys all virtues. St. Peter Damian calls it “the great destroyer of all virtues;”² and St. Anselm says that “the will of God is the foun-, tain of all good, and the will of man the source of all evil.” ³ And what fruit can be expected from the disciple who chooses a master destitute of reason, that is, his own will? “Whoever,” says St. Bernard, “constitutes himself his own master, becomes the disciple of a fool.”⁴ St. Anthony used to say that self-love is that wine which inebriates man so as to render him incapable of comprehending the value of virtue or the evil of sin.

¹ “Cesset voluntas propria, et infernus non erit.”—In Temp. Pasch. s. 3.

² “Destructio magna virtutum.”—Hom. de S. Bened.

³ “Voluntas Dei fons est totius boni; voluntas hominis totius est exordium mali.”—De Similit. c. 8.

⁴ “Qui se sibi magistrum constituit, stulto se discipulum subdit.”— Epist. 87.

St. Augustine asserts that “the devil has been made a devil by self-will.” ⁵ It is principally by self-will that Satan seeks to effect the perdition of religious. Cassian relates that the Abbot Achilles, being asked by his disciples with what arms the devil fights against religious, answered, that he employs pride against the great, avarice against merchants, intemperance against youth, but that his principal weapon against religious are their own will: that with this he attacks and frequently defeats them. The Abbot Pastor says that “the demons do not contend with us when we do our own will, for then our wills become devils.”¹ When we do our own will, the enemy ceases to combat us; because then our wills are devils, and more injurious to us than all the devils in hell. St. John Climacus (quoted by Gerson) says that he who, despising the authority of his Superior, wishes to direct himself, does not require a devil to tempt him, because he is become a devil to himself.²

⁵ “Diabolus, perversa voluntate, ex bono angelo diabolus factus est.” —Con/. 1. 7, c. 3.

¹ “Non pugnant nobiscum dæmones, quando voluntates nostras facimus; quia voluntates nostræ dæmones factæ sunt.”—Vit. Patr. l. 5, lib. 10, n. 62.

² “He who wishes to be his own guide, having despised his proper guide, no longer needs a demon to tempt him, because he himself has become a demon to himself.”—De Lib. leg. a mon. cons. 6.

Go not, says the Holy Ghost, after thy lusts, but turn from thy own will.³ Do not follow your own desires, but fly from the indulgence of self-will. This admonition is directed in a particular manner to religious who have sacrificed their will to God by promising obedience to their Rule and to their Superior. As God should be the only object of their love, so obedience is the only means by which they can obtain his love. To be the fruit of obedience is the highest perfection which the actions of religious can attain. The Venerable Catharine of Cardona, having left the Spanish court, retired into a desert, where she lived for many years in the practice of penitential austerities, the very recital of which would fill the mind with horror. In her life it is related that seeing one day a discalced Carmelite carrying through obedience a bundle of wood, and knowing by inspiration that he murmured interiorly against the command of his Superior, she thus addressed him: “Brother, carry, carry with alacrity these fagots; and be assured that by this act of obedience you will merit a greater reward than I have deserved by all my penances.” But as the works of religious derive from obedience the highest degree of perfection, so by self-will they are rendered most imperfect and defective. Hence, Tritemius says that nothing is more hateful to the devil than the practice of obedience. “The devil detests nothing more than obedience.”¹ Speaking of obedience, St. Teresa says that “Satan knows that it is the remedy of the soul, and therefore he labors hard to prevent its attainment.”² When St. Francis de Sales was devising the Rule for the nuns of the Visitation a certain person said that they ought to be barefooted. “You,” replied the saint, “wish to begin with the feet, but I wish to begin with the head.” St. Philip Neri continually impressed on his penitent that sanctity consists in the mortification of self-will. “You will,” says St. Jerome, “advance in proportion as you deny your own will.” ³ Your progress in virtue will be proportional to your denial of self-will. It was because they knew that they could not offer to God a more agreeable sacrifice than that of their own will, by the vow of obedience, that so many parish priests and bishops, who led exemplary lives in the world, retired into the cloister to live under obedience.

³ “Post concupiscentias tuas non eas, et a voluntate tua avertere.”—Ecclus. xviii. 30.

¹ “Nihil est quod diabolus plus oderit, quam obedientiam.”

² Found, ch. 5.

³ “Tantum adjicies virtuti, quantum subtraxeris propriæ voluntati.”

Oh! how happy the religious who, at the hour of death, can say, with the Abbot John, I have never done my own will.⁴ St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say, that the only means of dying a happy death is to submit with simplicity to the direction of a Superior. “To crucify all her desires is,” says Cassian, “the end of a religious.” ⁵ The religious, then, who does not attend to the mortification of self-will cannot be called a religious but a sacrilegious violator of her profession. What greater sacrilege than to take back the will that has been once consecrated to God? “There is not,” says St. Bernard, “a more heinous sacrilege than to resume power over a will once offered to God.” The Holy Ghost has declared by the mouth of Samuel, that to violate obedience and to follow self-will in contempt of authority is a species of idolatry. It is like the sin of witchcraft, to rebel; and like the crime of idolatry, to refuse to obey.¹ St. Gregory applies this passage in a particular manner to the disobedience of religious. “It is,” says the saint, “like the sin of witchcraft to rebel, because they believe the proud inventions of their own hearts, and resist the counsels of their prelates.”² The sin of religious who despise the commands of Superiors, and follow the dictates of self-love, is like the crime of idolatry; because they in a manner adore self-will as their God. Hence, St. Basil³ ordained that monks who were attached to their own will should, like lepers, be separated from the rest of the Community, lest others might be infected by their bad example.

⁴ Cassian, De Cecnob. inst. 1. 4, c. 28.

⁵ “Finis coenobitae est omnes suascrucifigere voluntates.”—Collat. i<;, c. S

¹ “Quasi peccatum ariolandi est, repugnare; et quasi scelus idololatriæ, nolle acquiescere.”—1 Kings, xv. 23.

² “Therefore, to resist is like the sin of divination, because they believe the proud inventions of their own heart and oppose the counsels of their prelates.”

³ Reg. fus. disp. int. 28.

Blessed Charlotte used to say that mortification of self-will is more meritorious than the renunciation of all the riches of the world. And here it is right to observe, that sanctity depends on the abnegation of self-will, not only in what is imperfect or indifferent, but also in the exercises which have the appearance of virtue; as, for example, prayer, alms-deeds, acts of penance, and other works of piety. Cassian remarks that acts of virtue performed through self-will and disobedience are productive of the worst consequences; because sinful actions which wear the appearance of holiness are corrected only with the greatest difficulty. “Vices,” he says, “which appear to be virtues are the most irremediable.”¹ Religious who desire to attain sanctity by following self-will are precisely the souls who, according to Isaias, will say to Jesus Christ on the day of judgment: Why have we fasted and thou hast not regarded?² To them the Judge will answer, that their works were performed to please themselves rather than to do the will of God, and that therefore they deserve no reward. Behold, he will say, in the day of your fast your own will is found.³ Oh! how great, then, is the evil of self-will, which vitiates and destroys the most perfect actions! “Great,” says St. Bernard, “is the evil of self-will, which renders your good works unprofitable to you.” ⁴ But, on the other hand, to be the result of obedience, is an infallible sign that an action is pleasing to God. Nicephorus relates that when the Superiors of St. Simon Stylites wished to ascertain whether the extraordinary and singular life which he led, remaining on a pillar in the open air, night and day, were pleasing to God, they commanded him to come down from his pillar and to live with the other monks. On hearing the command, the saint instantly stretched out his foot to descend, but was told by his Superiors to persevere in his austerities, which he proved by his obedience to be acceptable before God. It is necessary, then, to seek even holy things without attachment to self-will. St. Francis de Sales used to say: “I desire but few things, and for these I am not solicitous.”⁵ He wished for them, not through self-love, but to please God; and was therefore prepared to give them up as soon as he knew they were not conformable to the holy will of God.

¹ “A remediis longinquiora sunt vitia quæ, sub specie virtutum, videntur emergere.”—Collat. 4, c. 20.

² “Quare jejunavimus et non aspexisti?”—Is. lviii. 3.

³ “Ecce, in die jejunii vestri, invenitur voluntas vestra.”—Ibid.

⁴ “Grande malum propria voluntas, qua fit ut bona tua tibi bona non sint!”—In Cant. s. 71.

⁵ Entret. 21.

Oh! how great is the peace of a religious whose desires are the dictates of obedience! St. Dositheus, having consecrated his whole will to obedience, enjoyed continual peace. Fearing that in this peace there was some delusion of the enemy, he one day said to his Superior, St. Dorotheus: “Father, tell me why it is that I experience such tranquillity as to be free from every other desire?” “My son,” replied the Father, “this peace is altogether the fruit of obedience.” And what can give more content to religious that love God, than to know with certainty that in all their actions they do the will of God? They can say with the prophet: We are happy, O Israel, because the things that are pleasing to God are made known to us.¹ We enjoy constant happiness; because being obedient in all things we are certain of doing in all the will of our Spouse. “Oh! what sweetness,” says Mary Magdalene de Pazzi, “is contained in this expression—the will of God?” St. Laurence Justinian says that “he who has rejected his own will has thrown off a most grievous burden.”² “What tyrant,” says St. Peter Damian, “more cruel than self-will?”³ A religious cannot be subject to a more galling tyranny than the domination of her own will; for her inclinations will lead her to seek after things that cannot be had in the cloister. Fruitless desires will keep her in perpetual misery and agitation of mind, and she shall frequently suffer within herself a little hell. “Of what use,” says St. Eucherius, “are the silence and repose of a habitation, if the inhabitants be disturbed by the struggling of passions? Of what use is external serenity, if the tempest rage within?”¹ What will it profit a religious to live in the retirement of the cloister, if her heart be agitated by the conflicts of her passions? Without, indeed, there will be a calm, but within a storm.

¹ “Beati sumus, Israel; quia, quæ Deo placent, manifesta sunt nobis.”—Bar. iv. 4.

² “Gravissimum a se onus rejecit, qui suam repulit voluntatem.”—De Disc. mon. c. 7.

³ “Quis tyrannus crudelior quam hominis voluntas?”—Hom. de S. Ben.

¹ “What does it profit if there is quiet and silence in the place, but a struggle of passions in its inhabitants; if serenity possesses the exterior, but a tempest the interior?”—Ad Mon. hom. 9.

And from what source arise all our troubles? Do they not spring from attachment to our own inclinations? 11 Whence,” says St. Bernard, “is disturbance of mind, if not from following self-will?”² Cassian relates³ that the ancient Fathers were accustomed to say that the religious who does not conquer self-will cannot persevere in religion: certainly she cannot persevere with profit and with peace. Attachment to self-will is the only reason why many religious lead an unhappy life. One is unhappy because she cannot have the confessor or Superior of her choice: another, because she desires an office, and it is not given to her. She is so discontented, that the Superiors, to put an end to her complaints, accede to her wishes; and still she is not content. How can she expect to enjoy peace, when, instead of practising obedience, she obliges her Superiors to submit to her desires? Others are disturbed because an occupation opposed to their inclinations is assigned to them; others, because they are forbidden to keep up a certain communication or correspondence with their friends. Others, because some disagreeable precept is imposed upon them; they are displeased, and endeavor to excite against the Superior the aversion of their relatives, and even of the Community, and thus produce endless scandal and disorder.

² “Unde turbatio, nisi quod propriam sequimur voluntatem?”—De Div. s. 26.

³ De Cœn. inst. l. 4, c. 8.

Their crime, as is related by Surius,¹ would merit the chastisement of two monks, who refused to receive as their abbot a holy man named Philibert: one of them was struck with lightning, the other suddenly attacked with a mortal disease. “Have peace with your prelates,” says St. Bernard: “do not detract, nor wilfully listen to others detracting them: for God punishes inferiors in a special manner for this vice, and even in the present life.”² And St. Gregory says³ that “the works of Superiors, though they may appear reprehensible, are not to be struck with the sword of the tongue.” Thou shalt not, says the Lord, speak ill of the gods.⁴ You shall not censure the conduct of your Superiors, who hold the place of God in your regard.

¹ Vit. S. Phil. 20 Aug.

² “Have peace with your prelates: do not detract from them, nor willingly listen to others detracting from them; because God punishes this vice especially in subjects, even in the present life.”—Op. Ad quid ven. c. 3.

³ “Facta præpositorum oris gladio non sunt ferienda, etiam cum recte reprehendenda videntur.”—Epist. l. 12, ep. 13.

⁴ “Diis non detrahes.”—Exod. xxii. 28.

Attend to what Mary M. de Pazzi, while in an ecstasy, said of the evil done to religious by self-love: “I see,” says that great saint, “a multitude of souls, among whom there is one who, at the time of uniting herself to you, O divine Word, is wholly recollected; but before the lapse of an hour something occurs that is opposed to her inclinations, and she is thrown into confusion and agitation. I see another who, during the holy Mass, burns with divine love; but when reminded of a fault she will not acknowledge it; in her, pride and self-love reign. Another appears to rival St. Anthony by the rigor of her austerities; but if her penances be prohibited she is pertinacious, and will not obey. Another is reserved and mortified in the refectory; but she takes complacency in her mortifications, and desires to be esteemed more holy than her companions. To her, discretion appears excess; but she imputes to immoderate zeal the want of anything that she desires. Another will appear in the parlor to surpass St. Augustine by her wisdom; and to manifest her own perfection, will exhibit in her conversation an extraordinary degree of prudence. Others are ready to forego in the exercises of charity every personal advantage, but wish to be thanked for their services, and to be praised by all their companions.” Of such religious the Lord once said to the same saint: “They desire my spirit, but they desire it in a manner and at a time pleasing to themselves, and thus they render themselves unfit to receive it.”¹

¹ Puccini, p. 4, c. 29; p. 3, n. 1.

But let us return to ourselves. If you, dear Sister, wish to become a saint, and to enjoy continual peace, seek to overcome as much as possible your own will; adopt the rule of religious who love perfection; never do anything for your own satisfaction, but do all to please God: by this means you cut off all vain desires and all evil inclinations. Worldlings continually seek the gratification of their own wishes; but the saints constantly endeavor to mortify self-will, and to find occasions of self-denial. St. Andrew Avellini, as we read in his Office, bound himself by an express vow to resist continually his own will. You should at least prescribe to yourself to deny your own will a certain number of times in the day. Repeat often the words by which St. Bernard was accustomed to excite his fervor in God’s service: “Bernard, for what purpose have you come here?”² Say to yourself: have I entered religion to do my own will? If I wish to live according to my own inclinations, I should have remained in the world. At my profession I consecrated my will to God by the vow of obedience: why should I now seek to indulge it? Why am I disturbed when not permitted to follow my own will? Be not troubled, then, when your requests are refused, and when a duty painful to self-love is imposed upon you; but remember that by your obedience you will merit a greater reward, and will make greater progress in virtue than you would by many spontaneous acts of penance and devotion. A great servant of God used to say, that to perform a single act of abnegation of self-will is more profitable than to build a thousand hospitals. Have continually before your eyes the words of the Venerable Father Anthony Torres to a religious who was one of his penitents: “A soul entirely consecrated to God loves nothing, wants nothing, seeks nothing, desires nothing.”

² “JJernarde, ad quid venisti?”

I will conclude this chapter by an extract from a letter of the same Father Torres to a religious whom he wished to detach from herself and from all created objects, in order to love nothing but God: “Since the Lord gives you so many occasions of suffering and of desolation, endeavor to improve in charity, which is said to be as strong as death. Study to strengthen divine love in your soul, so that it may disengage your heart from all creatures, from all human respect, from all that is prized by the world, from your own desires, and from all self-love; that there may be nothing in you to prevent your thoughts, your desires, and your affections from being entirely directed to your beloved. Let the heart sigh after the beloved; let the will rest only on him; let the thoughts be wholly fixed on him. Let every motion of the body, let every act of your life, be for and with the beloved. To attain the love of your beloved, I advise you to renounce every day before the crucifix every object of your affections, all honors, interests consolations, and relatives, and to protest that you desire no other glory than his ignominies; no riches but his charity, no other convenience than the cross: that you desire him only, your dear and beloved Spouse. When you walk in the garden, or look up to the heavens, invite frequently and with your whole heart all creatures to the love of your beloved. Avoid all conversation; give up every employment which is not pleasing to him; omit every action which will not redound to the glory of your Spouse.”

Prayer. Ah, my God, my Lord, and my Spouse! Thou hast loved me so much, and hast given me a will to love Thee, and I have so often employed this will in offending and insulting Thee. If I were not convinced that Thou art a God of infinite mercy, I should lose all hope of recovering Thy grace, which I have unfortunately lost. By my ingratitude I deserved to have been long since abandoned by Thee. But I see that Thy light still assists me, and I know that Thou dost still call me to Thy love. Behold, O Lord, I do not wish to continue any longer in my ingratitude, or to resist any longer Thy invitation. I offer to Thee my whole being: receive an unfaithful soul who for so many years has despised Thy love, but who now desires to love Thee and to belong entirely to Thee. Assist me, O my Jesus; give me a sorrow for my sins which will fill my soul with pain and anguish for having outraged so good and so amiable a God. Unhappy me, if, after the lights which Thou now givest me, I betray Thee again. How canst Thou bear with me any longer? The fear of again offending Thee afflicts my soul. Ah, Lord! do not permit me to be evermore separated from Thee. Chastise me as Thou pleasest, but not by permitting me to lose Thy grace. If Thou seest that I shall ever turn my back upon Thee, take me out of life, at this moment, in which I hope to enjoy Thy friendship. Of what use will life be to me if by living I continue to offend Thee?

O Mary, my hope, obtain for me the grace of perseverance, or of instant death. hi. The Merit of Obedience.

“Since,” as St. Bonaventure says, “all the perfection of religious consists in the destruction of self-will,”¹ obedience should, of all virtues, be the most dear to a religious. Obedience to rule and to the commands of Superiors is the greatest sacrifice that a Christian can offer to God; because, as St. Thomas says, “nothing is more amiable in the eyes of man than the liberty of his own will.”² Hence we cannot present to God a more acceptable gift than the consecration of our wills to his service. “For,” says the Holy Ghost, obedience is better than sacrifices.³ Obedience is more pleasing to God than all the sacrifices that we can offer to him. They who give to the Lord their worldly goods by alms-deeds, their honor by embracing contempt, and their body by mortification, by fasts, and by works of penance, make only a partial consecration of themselves to him. But he that offers to God the sacrifice of his own will by the practice of obedience consecrates all that he possesses to God’s glory, and can say: Lord, after having given to Thee my will, I have nothing more to present to Thee. Besides, as St. Gregory says, “By the other virtues we give to God what belongs to us, but by obedience we dedicate ourselves to him.”⁴ The same Father says in another place that “obedience is a virtue that infuses the other virtues into the mind and preserves them in the soul.”¹ St. Teresa asserts that “from a soul resolved to love God he requires nothing but obedience;” and again, that “the devil knows well that obedience is the remedy of the soul, and therefore he labors hard to prevents its attainment.”²

¹ “Tota religionis perfectio in voluntatis propriæ abdicatione consistit.”—Spec. disc. ad novit. p. 1, c. 4.

² “Nihil est homini amabilius libertate propriæ voluntatis.”—De Perf. vitæ spir. c. 10.

³ “Melior est enim obedientia, quam victimæ.”—1 Kings, xv. 22; Eccles. iv. 17.

⁴ “Per alias virtutes, nostra Deo impendimus; per obedientiam, nosmetipsos exhibemus.”—In 1 Kings, xv.

¹ “Obedientia virtus est quæ virtutes cæteras menti inserit, insertasque custodit.”—Moral. l. 35, c. 12.

² Found. ch. 5.

The Venerable Father Sertorio Caputo³ used to say that obedience merits even the reward of martyrdom; because as by martyrdom a Christian submits, for God’s sake, to the loss of life, so by obedience he offers to the Lord the sacrifice of self-will, which is, as it were, the head of the soul. Hence the wise man says that he who practises obedience shall conquer every enemy. An obedient man shall speak of victory.⁴ Yes, says St. Gregory, the obedient shall overcome all the temptations of hell, because by obedience they subject their will to men, and thus become superior to the devils who fell through disobedience. “They who obey,” says the saint, “are conquerors, because when they submit their will to others, they triumph over the angels who sinned by disobedience.”⁵ Cassian observes that since all vices proceed from self-will when the latter is destroyed the former die in the soul. “By mortification of the will all vices wither and decay.”⁶ God promises those who renounce their own will that he will raise them above the earth, and give them a celestial spirit. If, says the Lord, thou turn away from doing thy own will... I will lift thee up above the high places of the earth, and will feed thee with the inheritance of Jacob.¹ St. Laurence Justinian teaches that all who sacrifice their own will to God become so dear to him that they shall obtain whatever they ask.² “He that has consecrated himself to God by the immolation of self-will will receive all that he shall demand.” a

³ Barone, Vit. l. 3, c. 11.

⁴ “Vir obediens loquetur victoriam.”—Prov. xxi. 28.

⁵ “Those who obey are victors, because, while they subject their will perfectly to others, they themselves rule over the angels who fell through disobedience.”—In 1 Kings, l. 4, c. 5.

⁶ “Mortificatione voluntatum marcescunt universa vitia.”—De Cœnob. inst. l. 4, c. 43.

¹ “Si averteris . . . facere voluntatem tuam, . . . sustollam te super altitudines terræ.”—Is. lviii. 13.

² “Sicut seipsum Deo tradidit, voluntatem propriam immolando, sic a Deo omne quod poposcerit, consequetur.”—Lign. vit. de Obed. c. 3.

St. Augustine says that after Adam had by his disobedience entailed misery on himself and the whole human race, the Son of God became man, principally to teach us obedience by his own example. Jesus from his infancy began to obey Mary and Joseph: he continued to obey them during his life; and by his obedience was in the end brought to the ignominious death of the cross. He humbled himself, becoming obedient unto death—even to the death of the cross.³ St. Bernard says that “the disobedient seek to be exempted from obedience. Jesus Christ did not do so: he, indeed, gave his life lest he should violate obedience.”⁴ The mother of God once revealed to one of her servants that our Redeemer died with a special affection for obedient souls.

³ “Factus obediens usque ad mortem, mortem autem crucis.”—Phil. ii. 8.

⁴ “Redimunt se, ne obediant; non ita Christus: ille siquidem dedit vitam, ne perderet obedientiam.”—De Mor. Episc. c. 19.

The Venerable Father de Leonardis, founder of the Order of the Mother of God, being importuned by his disciples to give them a rule, wrote this single word — obedience. He wished by this act to signify what Father Sertorio Caputo used to say, that in religion, obedience and sanctity are identical; that to be obedient and to be a saint are one and the same thing. St. Thomas⁵ teaches that it is principally by the vow of obedience a Christian is made a religious; and, according to St. Teresa,¹ a religious who is not obedient cannot be called a religious. Of what use is a disobedient nun? Many are versed in the belles-lettres, in poetry, foreign languages, and in history, but are unacquainted with obedience. A religious who knows not how to obey, knows nothing.

⁵ 2. 2, q. 186, a. 8.

¹ Way of Per fee. ch. 19.

St. Teresa² used to say that obedience is the short road to perfection. It is related in the Lives of the Fathers,³ that one of them saw in a vision two orders of saints: the first consisted of those who had left the world and retired into the desert to practise continual prayer and penance; the second, of those who for the love of Jesus Christ lived in obedience and subjection to the will of others. He also saw that the latter enjoyed greater glory than the former: for although the solitaries had pleased God in all their exercises, still they had always done their own will; but they who lived under obedience had given their will to God, and thus offered to him the most acceptable of all sacrifices. St. Dorotheus relates that his disciple St. Dositheus, being weak in health, could not practise the exercises performed by the other monks, but cast off self-will and consecrated himself entirely to obedience. He died in the space of five years. After his death the Lord revealed to the abbot that this young man obtained the same reward as St. Paul, the first hermit, and as St. Anthony, the abbot. The monks were amazed, and could not conceive how Dositheus, who did not perform the ordinary duties of his state, could merit so exalted a glory. Almighty God told them that the glory of the young saint was the reward of the obedience which he had practised. St. Gregory says that “a repast of precept deserves a greater reward than fasting voluntarily undertaken.”¹ To eat through obedience is more meritorious in the sight of God than to fast through self-will. The same truth was revealed by the Blessed Virgin to St. Bridget. Being prohibited by her confessor to practise her accustomed penances, the saint began to apprehend a diminution of her fervor; but the mother of God encouraged her to obey without fear, by saying to her that “they who do penance deserve but one reward, while he that omits through obedience one act of mortification, receives a twofold remuneration: one for the penance which he wished to perform, another for his obedience in omitting it.”²

² Found, ch. 5.

³ L. 5. Hue 11. 14, n. 19.

¹ “Majoris est meriti injuncta refectio, jejunio propria deliberatione suscepto.”—In 1 Reg. l. 2, c. 4.

² Rev. l. 4, c. 26.

St. Joseph Calasanctius used to say that an obedient religious is the precious gem of the convent. Oh! if all nuns were obedient, every convent would be a paradise. Besides, a nun faithful to obedience lays up in every action an immense treasure of merit; because in every exercise she does the will of God; and in doing his will all merit consists. To enable us to acquire eternal treasures, by whatsoever we do through obedience, is the principal advantage of the religious state. Even duties agreeable to our own feelings, when performed through a motive of obedience, merit a great reward. St. Aloysius used to say that religion is a ship, in which even he that labors not makes the voyage. Yes; for a religious merits not only when she fasts or meditates, or recites the Office, but also when through obedience she takes repose or abstains from labor, when she eats or indulges in recreation. Oh! how profitable and meritorious is every act performed in obedience to the will of Superiors!

If, then, dear Sister, you desire soon to become a saint, consecrate yourself entirely to obedience; divest yourself of all self-will; and endeavor with all your might to obey your Rule and your Superior in the external exercises, and your spiritual Father in whatever regards the interior. It is by obedience and by the absence of self-will that perfect religious are distinguished from the imperfect. The latter do nothing cheerfully, but what pleases self-love and self-will. They, indeed, desire to be entrusted with some of the offices of the Community; because to be without office they deem to be dishonorable. But they wish for those employments that tend to their own ease and convenience, and in everything else they seek their own will. In a word, they desire to become saints, but only according to their own will, and according to the dictates of self-love. But St. Joseph Calasanctius used to say that “he who in serving God seeks his own convenience, serves himself, and not God.” But religious who love perfection do not act in this manner: they never omit what obedience commands, and desire only what obedience prescribes. Imitate their example, and you will soon become a saint. Endeavor to perform all your actions from a motive of obedience, and you will always walk securely to salvation. To secure their profits, merchants obtain an insurance of their property. Let it be your care to make sure your eternal gain by procuring for every work the insurance of obedience—the approbation of your Superiors: otherwise your works may prove injurious, or at least unprofitable, to you. When St. Anselm was made Archbishop of Canterbury he became unhappy in consequence of being so free from the yoke of obedience, and at his own solicitation the Pope appointed for the saint a Superior whom he might obey. The saint regulated his conduct by the advice of the Superior, and undertook nothing without his consent. How much more should you who by your profession have consecrated your will to obedience—how much more, I say, should you seek occasions of practising that sublime virtue!

Prayer.

Ah! my Jesus, to save me Thou hast been obedient unto death—even the death of the Cross; and I, for a vile and wretched gratification, have been so often disrespectful and disobedient to Thee. Wait, O Lord; do not abandon me yet. I repent with my whole soul of all the offences I have offered Thee. I now see that I have abused Thy mercy too much, and that therefore I am undeserving of Thy pity. But I also see that Thou hast borne with me till now, that, entering one day into myself, I might consecrate my whole being to Thee. I hope the day has arrived when I shall dedicate myself entirely to Thy love. I hear Thy voice calling me to Thy love. I shall no longer resist Thy invitation. Behold! I offer myself to thee; refuse not, O Lord, my oblation. Tell me what Thou dost require of me: I am ready to do all in my power to please Thee. I promise Thee that henceforth I shall never violate the obedience due to my Superiors. I love Thee, my Jesus; and because I love Thee, I desire to do all that I can to please Thee. Assist me, O Lord; draw and unite me more and more every day to Thy love. Eternal Father, I offer to Thee the Passion of Thy Son, and through his merits I beseech Thee to give me all the graces necessary to make me a saint, such as Thou dost wish me to be.

O Mary, my mother and my hope, beg of thy Son that I may be no longer mine, but that I may belong to him entirely and forever.

The Obedience Due to the Superiors.

The principal and most efficacious means of practising the obedience due to the Superiors, and of rendering it meritorious before God, is to consider that in obeying them we obey God himself; and that by despising their commands we despise the authority of our divine Master, who has said of Superiors: He that heareth you, heareth me; and he that despiseth you, despiseth me.¹ Hence St. Paul addressed to his disciples the following words: Not serving to the eye, as it were pleasing men, but as the servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart.² When, then, a religious receives a precept from her prelate, Superior, or confessor, she should immediately execute it, not only to please men, but principally to please God, whose will is made known to her by their command. In obeying their directions she is more certain of doing the will of God than if an angel came down from heaven to manifest his will to her. Hence St. Paul says, in his epistle to the Galatians, that though an angel from heaven preach a gospel to you, besides that which the apostles preach, he should not be believed. No, says the apostle, let him be anathema.

¹ “Qui vos audit, me audit; et qui vos spernit, me spernit.”—Luke, x. 16.

² Non . . . quasi hominibus placentes, sed ut servi Christi, facientes voluntatem Dei ex animo.”—Eph. vi. 6.

St. Bernard says that “God deigns to make prelates his own equals. He takes to himself the reverence or contempt manifested to them.”³ Obedience shown to Superiors is shown to God; for he has said: He that heareth you, heareth me; and he that despiseth you, despiseth me. Bear, then, always in mind, dear Sister, that the obedience which you practise towards your Superiors is paid to God himself. Now if Jesus Christ himself came down from heaven, and imposed any duty upon you, or gave you any particular charge, would you attempt to decline it? or would you dare to disobey his commands? “But,” continues St. Bernard, “whether God, or a creature who is his representative, impose a precept, they are both to be obeyed with equal exactness.”⁴ If, then, you receive a command from one that holds the place of God, you should observe it with the same diligence as if it came from God himself. St. John Climacus¹ relates that in a certain monastery the Superior, to set an example to the Community, commanded in their presence an old man of eighty years to stand in the refectory for two hours without interruption. The aged monk being asked how he had been able to bear this mortification, replied: “I imagined that I stood before Jesus Christ, and that he imposed on me that humiliation; and this thought made me obey without difficulty or repugnance.”

³ “Those whom God has deigned in a certain manner to make equal to himself (the prelates), he reckons to himself both the reverence and the contempt shown to them.”—De Præc. et Disp. c. 9.

⁴ “Sive Deus, sive homo, vicarius Dei, mandatum quodcumque tradiderit, pari profecto obsequendum est curâ.”

¹ Scala parad. gr. 4.

For our greater merit the Lord wishes to lead us to salvation by means of faith, and therefore does not speak to us himself, but manifests his will by the commands of our Superiors. When Jesus Christ appeared to St. Paul, and transformed him into a new man, he might in person have directed the apostle what to do, but Jesus only said to him: Go into the city, and there it will be told to thee what thou must do.² Go into the city, and Ananias will make known my will to you. Hence blessed Egidius used to say that it is more meritorious to obey man for the love of God, than to obey God himself.

² “Ingredere civitatem, et ibi dicetur tibi, quid te oporteat facere.”—Acts, ix. 7.

It may be added, that there is more certainty of doing the will of God by obedience to Superiors, than by obedience to Jesus Christ should he appear in person and give his commands. Because should Jesus Christ appear to a religious she would not be certain whether it was he that spoke or an evil spirit, who under the appearance of the Redeemer wished to deceive her. But when her Superiors speak, she knows for certain, from the words of Jesus Christ, that in obeying them she obeys him. He, says our Lord, that heareth you heareth me. Even when it is doubtful whether the object of a precept is conformable to the law of God, the generality of theologians and masters of spiritual life teach that a religious is bound to obey; and that in obeying she is certain of not sinning, and of even pleasing God. Attend to the doctrine of St. Bernard, which he has taken from the Rule of St. Benedict: “Whatever a man holding the place of God commands, unless it be certain that it is displeasing to God, is to be received as if commanded by God himself.”¹

¹ “Whatever a person commands in the place of God, provided that it is not certain to displease God, must be received altogether no differently than if God were to command it.”—De Præc. et Disp. c. 9.

Thus, on the day of judgment, religious will be charged with every act of disobedience; but, as St. Philip Neri² used to say, they shall be most certain of not having to render an account of the actions performed through obedience. For these the Superiors only, who commanded them, shall be held accountable. Speaking particularly of nuns, the Lord once said to St. Catharine of Sienna: “Religious will not be obliged to render an account to me of what they do through obedience; for that, I will demand an account from the Superiors.” Obey, says the Apostle, your prelates, and be subject to them; for they watch, as being to render an account of your souls: that they may do this with joy, and not with grief.³ And, O blessed spouse of the Lord! if you practise obedience, when after death you shall be asked by Jesus Christ why you have not done greater penance, why you have not made more mental prayer, or why you have performed such an action, you can answer with confidence, that in all this you only fulfilled his commands by obeying your Superiors, whom he commanded you to obey as you would obey himself; and that if you have done wrong, the blame is imputable to your Superiors, whose authority you obeyed.

² Bacci, l. 1, ch. 20.

³ “Obey your prelates and be subject to them; for they keep watch as those who are to render an account for your souls.”—Hebr. xiii. 17.

Attend to the words of St. Paul: That they (your prelates) may do this with joy and not with grief.¹ From this passage it clearly appears that it is the duty of a religious to obey promptly, without reply, and without thwarting her Superiors or disturbing their peace. Oh! how miserable is the condition of a Superior whose subjects violate obedience by excuses, by colored pretexts, by complaints, and even by murmurings. The situation of abbesses at the approach of the time for distributing the offices of the Community is truly deserving of pity. They are, on the one hand, troubled by scruples arising from the apprehension that through human respect or through the fear of displeasing a sister they will intrust her with a charge for which she is unfit; and on the other, they are afflicted to find that after the distribution one declines her office, another complains, a third murmurs, and others refuse to accept the duties assigned to them. This state of things sometimes compels the Superior to dispense the offices, not according to the rules of reason and for the good of the Community, but according to human prudence. In acting according to the dictates of human wisdom to prevent greater evils, the Superior may be blameless; but whoever accepts or discharges her duties not in the spirit of obedience, but through caprice, will certainly be inexcusable. The Apostle commands you to obey, and to be subject to your Superiors, that they may discharge their duty with joy, and not with grief. For, says St. Paul, this is not expedient for you.² No, it is not expedient for you that the Superiors be resisted and thwarted; but if they be supported and consoled in the government of the Community, good order and your spiritual progress will be promoted.

¹ “Ut cum gaudio hoc faciant, et non gementes.”—/Mr. xiii. 17,

² “Hoc enim non expedit vobis.”—Ibid.

What a scandal is it to see certain religious decline certain offices assigned to them, and thus extort obedience from their Superiors! St. Bernard, in his comment on the words of the Redeemer to the blind man, What wilt thou that I do to thee.¹ says: “He was truly blind, otherwise he would have exclaimed: 'Far be it from me, O Lord, to ask Thee to do what I will; tell me rather what Thou wilt have me do for Thee.”² Let us apply to ourselves this passage of St. Bernard. There are some nuns whom the abbess must ask what office they wish to have. Perfect religious do not require to be consulted about the office they wish for: should the Superior ask them what charge would be most agreeable to them, they answer that it is not for them to say what employment they desire, but that it belongs to her to tell them what she will have them do.

¹ “Quid tibi vis faciam?”—Luke, xviii. 41.

² “Vere cœcus, quia non exclamavit: Absit, Domine; tu magis dic quid me facere velis.”—In Conv. S. Pauli, s. 1.

If, then, dear sister, you wish to be truly obedient and truly religious, bear continually in mind:

I. That your Superiors hold in your regard the place of Jesus Christ; and endeavor to show them all the veneration and love that are due to his representatives, not through a feeling of self-interest, not to be esteemed by them or to avoid their censure, but from the sole motive of pleasing God. And this obedience is due not only to the prelate and abbess, but to all that hold office in the convent: such as the Infirmarian, the Sacristan, and the sister who is charged with the care of the refectory. In obeying the abbess, a religious may be easily influenced by human respect; but in obeying sisters intrusted with the inferior offices, she shows that she possesses the true spirit of obedience. St. Francis of Assisi thanked God in a particular manner for having given him the grace to be always ready to obey the least of the novices in all things in which they might be appointed his Superiors. The saint was accustomed to say that the less the authority of a Superior and the more humble his station and qualifications, the greater is the merit of obedience; because then it proceeds from the sole motive of pleasing God.

II. Do not seek the society of imperfect sisters, who have little affection for obedience.

III. Receive correction with humility; beg of the Superior to reprimand you as often as reproof may be necessary for you. Be not of the number of those who resent even the slightest rebuke, to whom the Superior cannot give even the necessary admonitions without great caution; whose correction, lest they should be wanting in respect to her, and should disturb the Community, she is, perhaps, compelled to defer for several months, till a seasonable opportunity occurs. But woe to the religious who cannot be admonished without such caution! she must be very imperfect indeed.

IV. When corrected receive the admonition with humility, and without excusing your fault; and should the Superior charge you with a defect which you had not committed, do not speak of her mistake, unless she commands you to state your guilt or innocence. But I shall hereafter treat this subject more at large.

V. Banish from your mind all thoughts and suspicions against the Superior, with the same promptness as if they were thoughts opposed to chastity, and when you hear any one attribute to her a fault which cannot be denied, seek to excuse her as much as you can. But should the fault of the Superior be evident and inexcusable,—for example, were she impatient with all the sisters,—persuade yourself that God permits this defect in her, not for your injury, but for your profit. St. Gertrude once besought the Lord to deliver the abbess from the fault of frequent impatience. In answer, she was told that he permitted this defect in the abbess, as well for her own advantage as for the good of the religious: for her good, that she might be kept humble; for the good of the religious, that by bearing with her impatience their merit might be increased.¹ “The more,” says St. Bernard, “you are oppressed, the more you gain.”² The greater the burden you bear the greater the merit you acquire. St. Gregory teaches that “the commands of Superiors should be respected, though their life be not deserving of praise.”³ And speaking of the Scribes and Pharisees, who blasphemed his works, Jesus Christ says: All things whatsoever they shall say to you, observe and do; but according to their works, do ye not.⁴

¹ Insin. l. 3, c. 84.

² “In quantum gravaris, in tantum lucraris.”—Epist. 73.

³ “The commands of superiors must be revered even when they themselves do not have a praiseworthy life.”—In 1 Reg. l. 2, c. 4.

⁴ “Omnia ergo quæcumque dixerint vobis, servate et facite, secundum opera vero eorum nolite facere.”—Matt. xxiii. 3.

With regard to the offices of the convent, observe the excellent rule of St. Francis de Sales: “Never to seek and never to refuse any of them.” Prefer always that which is least honorable, and least suited to your convenience. Few nuns merit the full reward of obedience by fulfilling the duties of their office, because few accept and discharge them in the true spirit of obedience, and with a pure intention of pleasing God. Imperfect religious look only to the advantages and disadvantages of office; but the perfect regard only the will of God, and therefore seek not their own ease or convenience, but cheerfully embrace pains and labors. Endeavor to belong to the number of the perfect. Do not imagine that the refusal of office, through fear of committing faults in the discharge of its duties, will be excusable before God; but be persuaded that by becoming a religious you bound yourself to serve the convent. Could the fear of committing faults justify you in declining a charge, the same fear would exempt all the sisters from the obligation of accepting office. Should they give way to such fears, who would serve the monastery or support the Community? Have a pure intention of pleasing God: fear not; he will assist you.

Accept, in the spirit of obedience, the office intrusted to you; and in accepting it, regard not the power of domination; look not to self-ease nor self-esteem, but solely to the obligations of obedience. Accept it with a holy confidence, and listen not to the devil, who will perhaps suggest to you that the duties of such an office are above your strength. If you be obedient, the Lord will give you that strength which you do not possess. Do not imagine that, because the duties of your charge are of a distracting nature they will destroy in your soul the spirit of fervor and recollection. Be assured that if you comply with your duties God will bestow upon you more graces in a quarter of an hour spent in prayer, than, without performing them, you would receive in a retreat of ten days. In the fulfilment of your office endeavor as much as possible to set apart some little time to recollect yourself in prayer. Do not say that your office requires every moment of your time. Perfect religious who have an affection for prayer can find abundant time for the discharge of their duties and for recollection. Do not imitate the conduct of some who burden themselves with such a multiplicity of occupations, that they cannot find a moment’s time to recollect themselves before God. In discharging the duties of office be careful not to be partial to your friends. Be still more careful not to abuse your office by employing it as a means of procuring for yourself advantages which the other sisters do not enjoy.

Lastly, remember that neither obedience nor even the perfection of obedience forbids a religious to make known to her Superiors all secret disqualifications for the duty imposed upon her. She may, for example, without any violation of obedience, make known to them any bodily infirmity, or whatever would render her unfit for the office assigned to her; because her Superiors are not angels, but human beings, who require to be made acquainted with what of themselves they do not know. But in stating your disqualifications for any charge, you must take care, in the first place, not to speak of those which the Superior already knows; for these she must be supposed to have already taken into consideration. Secondly, after explaining your difficulties, you must cheerfully acquiesce in the judgment of the Superior; and your acquiescence must be manifested externally, as well for her peace and satisfaction as for the edification of the Community. Hence, before they represent to the Superior their unfitness for office, religious would do well to figure to themselves that, notwithstanding their supposed difficulties, she insists on the acceptance of the charge intrusted to them. By this means they will be better disposed to receive, without reply, the decision of the Superior.

It is necessary to remark in this place, that a discreet attention to the preservation of health, with a view to be better able to serve God, is not a defect, but an act of virtue. But a superfluous solicitude about health is a fault; and, aided by self-love, makes many unnecessary indulgences appear indispensable. St. Bernard says that some are fitter to be the disciples of Hippocrates and Galenus than of Jesus Christ. “Consider,” says the saint, “that you are a monk and not a physician.”¹ And he continues: “Consult for your own repose.”² As if he said, Seek to promote your own peace by living like the rest of the Community, and by avoiding all singular and superfluous indulgence. “Spare the labor of those who serve the Community.¹” Spare the labor of the attendant in the refectory, and of the cook; and seek not after delicacies withheld from others. “Spare the burden of the house.”² Abstain from putting the Community to any superfluous expense.

¹ “Puta te, quxso, monachum esse, non medicum.”—In Cant. s. 30.

² “Parce quieti tuæ.””

¹ “Parce labori ministrantium.”

² “Parce gravamini domus.”

St. Basil³ exhorted religious to accustom themselves as much as possible to the common fare. Oh! how much better is it for a religious to eat and drink like her companions, than to fast, to take discipline, or wear hairshirts, and afterwards practise singularity in her food! In singularity has originated the relaxation of many religious orders. Be not afraid that by using the common food you will be wanting in the care of your health; for although it is not lawful directly to shorten life with the intention of accelerating death, still, according to the common opinion of theologians, it is allowable to abstain from some indulgences, particularly those that are singular, which might prolong life for some time. Such abstinence is even an act of virtue, when practised with the intention of promoting our own spiritual advancement, and the edification of our neighbor. When the celebrated Chapter of Matts⁴ was held, St. Francis of Assisi saw that the demons convened a Chapter, in which they agreed that, to introduce a relaxation of discipline into his Order, in which the spirit of fervor then flourished, the most effectual means would be to induce the religious to receive a great number of novices of noble extraction and of delicate health, because such subjects would be treated with less rigor; thus by degrees discipline would be relaxed, and the spirit of fervor banished from the Order. This reasoning was most just. Beware, then, lest by immoderate care of your health you put your salvation in peril, or at least lose the crown of a saint. Remember that, had the saints, like you, been unnecessarily solicitous about the preservation of health, they should never have become saints.

³ S. de Abdic. rerum.

⁴ Wading. Ann. Min. anno 1219, n. 19.

Prayer.

O my beloved Lord, Thou art beauty itself, goodness itself, and love itself: how can I love anything but Thee! Fool that I have been! In my past life I have offered numberless insults to Thee. I have violated Thy law, but I am sorry above all things for my sins, and desire to die of grief for having offended Thee. O my Jesus, have mercy upon me. I desire to cry out continually: My Jesus, mercy; O my Jesus, mercy. But if for the past I have despised Thy love, I now prefer it to all the goods of the earth. Thou, O my Jesus, art, and shalt be forever, the only object of all my affections. My love, I leave all things and desire nothing but Thee. I now say and desire to repeat every moment of my life, that I desire Thee only, O my God, and nothing more. Assist me, O Lord, to be faithful to Thee. Look not on my sins, but on the love that Thou didst bear to me when Thou wast nailed to the Cross for my salvation. In the merits of Thy Passion I place all my hopes. I love Thee, O infinite Good! O my supreme Good! and ask nothing of Thee but the grace to love Thee; to love Thee intensely, and henceforward to love no other object but Thee, my treasure and my all. My Jesus, I give Thee my will: purify its affections. I give Thee my body: preserve it unsullied. I give Thee my soul: make it belong entirely to Thee. Burn with Thy own consuming fire every affection that is opposed to the pure love of Thy divinity.

O Mary, my great advocate, I hope first in the merits of thy Son, and afterwards in thy intercession. v.

The Obedience due to the Rule.

St. Francis de Sales has asserted that “the predestination of religious is connected with the observance of their rules.” And St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say, that the observance of Rule is the shortest way to eternal life and to sanctity. In a word, the only way by which a religious can become a saint and be saved, is to observe her Rule. For her there is no other way that leads to salvation. Hence, no matter how great her austerities, how frequent her prayers, and how numerous her other spiritual works, a religious who habitually violates any, even the most unimportant, rule, will never advance a single step towards perfection. She will labor, but without fruit, verifying in herself the words of the Holy Ghost: He that rejecteth wisdom and discipline is unhappy; and their fruit is vain, and their labors without fruit, and their works unprofitable.¹ They who despise discipline, that is, their Rule, are miserable, and trust in vain in their works; for their labors are without fruit. “We,” says St. Teresa, “do not fulfil certain easy duties prescribed by rule, such as silence, which gives no pain; and still we go in search of works of penance; but afterwards we neglect the former and omit the latter.”² Not to advance in perfection is but a small part of the evils that arise from the infraction of light rules. According to St. Bernard, the worst consequence of such transgressions is, that the habit of them renders very difficult the observance of the most important rules, and even of the vows.

¹ “Disciplinam qui abjicit, infelix est; et vacua est spes illorum. ct labores sine fructu.”—IVisd. iii. II,

² Way of Perf. ch. 11.

Oh! what a scandal to see certain religious, so well instructed during their novitiate in the observance of rule, and after their profession, disregard regular discipline, as if their solemn consecration to Jesus Christ exempted them from all the obligations of the religious state! A learned author says: “It is better to be a finger united to the body, than to be an eye separated from it.”¹ An eye torn from the body is but rottenness; and an action that wears the appearance of virtue, but is not conformable to rule, will never please God; instead of promoting, it will impede the perfection of a religious. For, as St. Augustine says, acts of devotion opposed to rule are but so many steps out of the way, and so many stumbling-blocks to the soul.

¹ “It is better to be a finger and to be in the body than to be an eye and to be torn from the body.”

But you, dear sister, have left the world to become a saint; and do you not see, that not to conquer yourself in small things will not only prevent you from being a saint, but will also expose you to the danger of perdition? “We had,” says St. Eucherius of Lyons, “abundant strength to relinquish the dearest affections, and we are not strong enough to overcome negligence.”² We had the courage to renounce all attachments to relatives, to property, and to the pleasures of the world; and now we are too weak to conquer our tendency to violate rule. Cassian relates that to a certain monk who had abandoned the dignity of senator to enter religion, but afterwards did not observe his rule, St. Basil said, in a tone of commiseration: “You have lost the rank of senator, and have not become a monk.”³ Unhappy man, what have you done? To become a monk, you have forfeited the honorable station of senator, and have not attained the sanctity of a religious. Tertullian says: “If you deem the liberty of the world to be true liberty, you have returned to servitude, and have lost the liberty of Christ.”¹ As if he said: O spouse of Jesus, you have gone forth from the slavery of the world, and have taken possession of the liberty of Christ, by putting off all earthly affections—the unhappy chains which hold so many poor souls in bondage; and will you still esteem the liberty of the world to be true liberty? If you do, you have miserably returned to the slavery of the world, and have lost the freedom of the children of God, which Jesus Christ purchased for you.

² “Ad relinquendos dulces affectus, fortissimi fuimus; et nunc, ad declinandas negligentias, infirmi sumus.”—Ad Monach. hom. 8.

³ “Senatorem perdidisti, et monachum non fecisti.”

¹ “Si veram putes sseculi libertatem, rediisti in servitutem hnminis, et amisisti libertatem Christi.”—De Cor. milit.

First Excuse.

Some religious excuse their negligence by saying that the rules which they violate are of no importance.

To them I answer, in the first place, that no Rule of religion can be deemed unimportant or undeserving of attention. All the rules of religion should be respected, because they are all ordained by Almighty God, and approved by the Church, as means of attaining the perfection to which every religious consecrated to God should continually aspire; and because the neglect of even trifling rules injures regular discipline, and disturbs the whole Community. It is certain that the spirit of fervor flourishes in the convent where attention is paid to the smallest rules; but where they are neglected, there piety is either lost or begins to decay Father St. Jure² relates that Father Oviedo, the Superior of the college of the Jesuits in Naples, insisted on the punctual observance of even the smallest rules. He was opposed by Father Bobadilla, who asserted that it was not right to oblige subjects to observe such trifles. By this opposition the rigor of discipline was relaxed; the event showed the evil consequences of the neglect of rule. By the habitual violation of order, a contempt for the most important as well as for the smallest rules was engendered in some, who afterwards abandoned religion. Being informed of the relaxation which had taken place, St. Ignatius ordained that the rules should be observed with the utmost exactness, and thus discipline was re-established.

² Knowledge and Love, book 3, ch. 17, § 1.

Tepid and negligent religious disregard trifles, but. the devil sets great value on the smallest violation of rules; he carefully marks all our transactions to charge us with them one day before the tribunal of Jesus Christ. St. Richard, a religious, having once got his hair cut before the usual time, saw the devil gathering and numbering the hairs that were scattered over the floor.¹ In like manner, St. Gertrude² saw the enemy collecting all the little tufts of wool which, for want of the perfect spirit of poverty, she had allowed to be wasted; and all the syllables of the Office that had been omitted because it was recited with too much rapidity. Blessed Denis the Carthusian relates that Satan appeared once to a religious with a needle and a silk thread in his hand, which she had used without permission. Thus the enemy of mankind keeps an account of every word uttered in the place or time of silence, of every look of curiosity, and of every transgression of rule into which negligent religious fall.

¹ Surius, Sept. 15.

² Insin. l. 3, c. 33.

It is because they are heedless of small faults that these miserable souls experience nothing but aridity and irksomeness in their meditations, Communions, and in all their exercises of devotion. In punishment of one look of curiosity, contrary to the inspiration of the Holy Ghost not to indulge her eyes, St. Gertrude was visited with spiritual dryness for eleven days. It is but just that whoever sows little should gather but little fruit. He who soweth sparingly shall also reap sparingly.¹ How can the Lord be liberal of his graces and consolations to a religious who serves him with reserve and with negligence? Had she faithfully observed such a rule God would perhaps have bestowed upon her great graces; but in punishment of her negligence he has justly withheld them from her. Blessed Egidius used to say, “By a small neglect a great grace may be lost.”

¹ “Qui parce seminat, parce et metet.”—2 Cor. ix. 6.

“Many,” says St. Bonaventure, “desire to die for Christ, and are at the same time unwilling to bear light crosses for his sake.”² Many pant after the crown of martyrdom, and will violate a small rule rather than submit to a trifling inconvenience. If, says the Saint, you received a command hard to be observed, and in its fulfilment attended with serious disadvantages, there might perhaps be some apology for its violation; but for the infraction of rules of easy observance there cannot be the shadow of an excuse. The more unimportant a rule, and the more easy it is to be observed, the more imperfect the religious who transgresses it, because the greater is her attachment to self-will. But God grant, as has been said above,³ that the disregard of small rules may not lead her one day to the violation of her vow, and to eternal perdition. He that breaketh a hedge,⁴ says the Holy Ghost, a serpent shall bite him. Whoever breaks down the fence of the Rule stands in great danger of being one day bitten by the infernal serpent. When you see a religious of exemplary conduct fall into the pit of sin, do not imagine that the devil, by the first attack, succeeded in effecting her ruin. No, he first induced her to neglect her Rule and to despise small things, and then drew her into grievous transgressions.

² “Multi optant pro Christo mori, qui pro Christo nolunt levia pati.” —De Prof. rel. l. 2, c. 5.

³ Page 172.

⁴ “Qui dissipat sepem, mordebit eum coluber.”—Eccles. x. 8.

Second Excuse.

Others excuse themselves by saying that the Rule does not bind under pain of sin.

It has been already said (Chap. IV.)¹ that to violate without sufficient necessity even the Rules that are not obligatory under the penalty of moral guilt, is, according to the common opinion of theologians, at least a venial transgression. Speaking of the Rule of his Order, which has not the force of a strict precept, St. Thomas, after stating that the violation of the vows is a mortal sin, says that “the transgression of the other Rules is only a venial fault.”² I have said that to break any Rule without sufficient cause is at least a venial sin. For when the violation of Rule is productive of serious injury or of great scandal in the convent, it may be a mortal sin. For example, to disturb habitually the general silence, to enter the cells of your companions, to break without leave the fasts prescribed by the Rule, and similar irregularities, sometimes rob the soul of sanctifying grace. But that the violation of Rule is at least a venial sin, cannot be doubted: 1. Because a religious by transgressing her Rule neglects the means of attaining the perfection to which she is bound to aspire; 2. Because she is unfaithful to the promise which at her profession she made to observe the Rules of the Community; 3. Because by her bad example in transgressing the Rule she disturbs the good order of the Community; 4. And lastly (and this is the strongest reason): Because every infraction of the Rule proceeds from self-love, and is a departure from the will of God. Unnecessary transgressions of rule are certainly not acts of virtue; neither can they be said to be indifferent. For how can we call an action indifferent that is performed through self-will, that gives bad example, and destroys the order of regular discipline? If, then, the violation of the Rule cannot be good or indifferent, it must be sinful. Some perhaps will say: It is enough for me that the violation of the Rule is not a mortal sin. To such persons I would answer, that they are in a very dangerous state. If they are not dead, they are in the last agony. Their unhappy souls are infected with a slow fever which will soon bring on death. Let them read what is said in Chapter V.¹

¹ Page 84.

² “Transgressio obligat solum ad peccatum veniale.”—2. 2, q. 186, a. 9.

¹ Page 102.

Third Excuse.

In extenuation of their neglect of the Rule others say that they are advanced in years, and that they cannot bear the rigors practised by young persons.

In answer to them I say, that a religious, whether young or old, does injury to herself and the Community by the transgression of the Rule. St. Peter Chrysologus says that “by its shade a barren tree is pernicious not only to itself, but also to the fertile plants by which it is surrounded.”² Yes, every religious who gives bad example by inattention to the Rule does an injury to her own soul and to her fervent companions.

² “Infecunda arbor, dum fundit umbram, inimica, non sibi soli, sed etiam palmitibus fit fecundis.”—Serm. 106.

Besides, religious advanced in years are more strictly bound to perfect observance than those who are young in religion. First, because they have been longer in the cloister: and as the more time a person has devoted to study, the more extensive should be his learning; so the longer a religious is engaged in the meditation of Jesus crucified, the greater should be her progress in the science of the saints and in Christian perfection. Secondly, because the example of the more advanced is most efficacious in inducing the juniors to observe or to violate the Rule. Religious of long standing are the torches that enlighten the Community; they are the pillars that sustain regular observance; and by their example they engage the young in the support of order. But if discipline be disregarded by the oldest members of the Community, the Rule will be despised by the novices in religion. Generally speaking, all the irregularities that creep into convents are to be ascribed not so much to the young as to the advanced religious, who by their bad example lead the others to seek a relaxation of the rigor of the Rule. As long as their works contradict their words, all their exhortations and entreaties to the juniors to observe the Rule will be unprofitable. “The eyes,” says St. Ambrose, “persuade sooner than the ears.”¹ Example is far more persuasive than admonition. And how is it possible to induce novices to observe the Rule when the conduct of Superiors is subversive of regular observance? “Nothing,” says Tertullian, “can be built up by the same means as that by which it is pulled down.”²

¹ “Citius persuadent oculi, quam aures.”—Serm. 76.

² “Nemo inde strui potest, unde destruitur.”—De Præscript.

When Eleazar was tempted by the wicked Antiochus to transgress the divine command, which forbade the Hebrews to eat swine’s flesh, his friends through compassion for his old age besought him, in order to escape death, at least to pretend to comply with the tyrant’s order. But the venerable old man wisely replied, that he would rather be sent into the other world: for it doth not become our age to dissemble.³ He would rather sacrifice his life than pretend, at such an advanced age, to break the divine precept, and thus teach his young countrymen to transgress the law.

“The look of a just man,” says St. Ambrose, “is an admonition.”¹ Oh! what an affecting admonition to novices, and how far superior to the most eloquent exhortation, to see an aged religious observing with punctuality all the Rules, great and small! All the zeal and exertions of religious who love perfection should be directed to the support of discipline in all its rigor. When Jesus Christ, by stretching forth his right hand, showed St. Teresa that he was espoused to her, he said: “Henceforth, as my true spouse, you shall be zealous for my honor.”² Every spouse, then, of Jesus should ardently seek his glory. But it is for the observance of the Rules, which are the principal support of perfection in the Community, that religious should display all their zeal. And this zeal should be cherished not only by Superiors, but by all, and especially by those whose office or age gives them authority over the other Sisters. Whenever St. Andrew Avellini saw the rules transgressed, he admonished with great fervor not only his companions in religion, but also his Superiors. It is related in the life of Father Torres that one of his penitents, Sister M. Teresa Spinelli, a religious of great zeal and piety, in the convent of the Most Holy Trinity at Naples, seeing certain abuses introduced into the Community, opposed them vehemently without regard to any person, however great his dignity. She had in view only God’s honor; and to uphold it by resisting the introduction of irregularity into religion, she endured many troubles and contradictions. When manifest abuses and relaxation of discipline steal into a convent, it is not pride or temerity, but an act of virtue and zeal, to exclaim against them, and even to oppose the Superiors themselves, should such opposition be necessary for the correction of abuses.

³ 2 Mac. vi. 18.

¹ “Justi aspectus admonitio est.”—In Ps. cxviii. s. 10.

² “Deinceps, ut vera sponsa, meum zelabis honorem.”—Offic. 15 Oct.

Fourth Excuse.

Through a pretended fear of being troublesome to the Superior, some abstain from asking permission to do what they are forbidden by rule to do without her leave.

This, too, is a vain excuse; for Superiors, instead of being annoyed, are edified by the religious who ask permissions as often as they may be required. Besides, how can a Superior complain of the sisters for asking leave to do what their Rule forbids them to do, without her permission? Be careful, then, never to abstain from asking any permission which your Rule commands you to ask. And when, to support the observance of the Rule, your Superior refuses your request, be not disturbed, but thank her for the refusal, and keep your soul in peace. All the passengers in a ship rejoice, and even feel grateful to the pilot, when they see that he compels all the sailors, without exception, to attend to their duty; for should even one of them neglect his post the vessel might be lost.

The rules are burdensome, but they are only the burden of the wings with which we fly to the Lord. “The burden of Christ,” says St. Augustine, “has wings.”¹ Yes, it has wings which assist us to rise on high. The rules are fetters; but they are bonds of love which unite us to the Supreme Good. When bound by rule, we should say with holy David: The lines are fallen unto me in goodly places.² To me these cords are not a badge of dishonor, but of nobility; they are the object of my love because they deliver me from the chains of hell. And when we feel pain or sorrow in consequence of being deprived by our Rule of any gratification which self-love prompts us to desire, let us rejoice, and say with the Apostle, I, a prisoner in the Lord.¹ As if he said: I see that I am a prisoner, but I exult in those chains which bind me to my God and merit for me an eternal crown. “He would not,” says St. Augustine, “put a golden necklace on you if he had not first chained you in iron fetters.'”² The Lord would not give you the golden necklace of eternal glory without having first bound you with the chains of rule.

¹ “Christi sarcina pennas habet.”—In Ps. lix.

² “Funes ceciderunt mihi in præclaris.”—Ps. xv. 6.

¹ “Ego vinctus in Domino.”—Kph. iv. I.

² “Non tibi imponeret torquem aureum, nisi primum in compedibus ferreis te alligasset.”—In Ps, cxlix.

Should a sister, then, ask you to do what without permission you are forbidden to do, tell her without hesitation that you cannot accede to her request. You ought not to be ashamed to refuse when there is question of avoiding a fault, and especially the violation of the Rule. No: should the others be negligent, it is your duty to be singular in regular observance. Be not afraid that your regularity will be an occasion of vainglory. That your example may shine forth, and serve as an incentive to others to observe the Rule and thus give glory to God, it is certainly his will that, if the rest of the Community be careless, you should be singular in attending even to the smallest rules. So let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.³ If you are not able to do great things for God, to perform rigorous penances, or to devote much time to prayer, strive at least to observe your Rule with exactness; and be assured that by its sole observance you will in a short time make rapid progress in perfection. A great servant of God used to say that the punctual observance of the Rule is the short way to sanctity. “The best perfection,” says St. Bonaventure, “is to fulfil all things whatsoever that are prescribed.”¹ God will be liberal to a religious in proportion to her fidelity to him. “A religious,” says St. Teresa, “faithful to the minutest of the rules does not walk, but flies to perfection without either wings or feathers.”

³ “So let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”—Matt. v. 16.

¹ “Optima religiosi perfectio, communia quaeque servare.”—Spec.

St. Augustine justly calls the Rule the mirror of religious; for by its observance the character of a religious may be known. Yes, says Hugo of Victor, commenting on St. Augustine, the Rule is the best test by which we may discover “whether religious are just or unjust, whether they advance, whether they are pleasing or displeasing to God.”² By seeing religious attentive to the Rule, or careless about its observance, we ascertain at once whether they love or do not love perfection; whether they go forward or recede; whether they please or displease God. Be assured that a religious will become a saint not by doing a multiplicity of works, but by the faithful observance of the Rule. At the times set apart by the Rule for labor or for recreation a religious should not go to prayer, to the choir, nor take the discipline. These unseasonable devotions are, says Father Alvarez, sacrifices of rapine, which God does not accept.

² “She justi, sive injusti; utrum quisquam proficiat; utrum Deo placeat, an displiceat.”—Expos, in Reg. S. Aug. c. 12.

A certain Capuchin was accustomed to absent himself from the common labors for the purpose of attending to his private devotions. On the bed of sickness Jesus Christ, in quality of his judge, appeared to him, and ordered all the vocal prayers and other devotions performed during the time of the common exercises to be taken from him and to be distributed among those who had labored for the Community. By the mercy of God his life was prolonged, his health was restored, and ever

disc. p. 2, c. 2. after the good brother assisted most punctually at all the common duties.

St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say that the best means to acquire great merit is to be present at every assembly of the Community. It is true that in certain circumstances, as when you labor under infirmity or are engaged in some very important duty of office, it is not a fault to break some small rule. But it is likewise true that transgressions committed under pretence of sickness or necessity frequently proceed from sloth, and from a want of affection for the Rule. For others who are perhaps more infirm, and not less occupied in the offices of the convent, never violate the rules that you so often transgress. They who love discipline find the means of observing the Rule, and also of discharging the duties of office. St. Teresa used to say that “sometimes the evil is small, and therefore we imagine that we are not bound to avoid it.”¹

¹ Way of Perf. ch. 11.

To read your Rule frequently for the purpose of seeing what faults you commit and what you Have to correct will contribute greatly to infuse into your soul an affection for exact observance. The reading of the rules is one of the best spiritual readings that you can make. It will also be very profitable to make your particular examination on the rules that you transgress most frequently. Whenever you violate the Rule be not ashamed to acknowledge your fault to the Superior, and to ask penance for it. The devil once said to St. Dominic, that in the chapter at which religious confess their defects, and receive penance and admonition for them, he lost all that he had gained in the refectory, in the parlor, and in the other places of the monastery. Before you confess your fault, dispose your heart to accept whatever reproof or penance may be given to you, lest you should be like the religious who, to show that they are humble and exact in the observance of the Rule, acknowledge their defects, but are at the same time unwilling to be reproved for their transgressions.

But to be profitable, the observance of the Rule, as St. Ignatius has remarked, must above all be accompanied with “the spirit of love, and not the perturbation of fear.”¹ You should observe the rules not to escape the rebukes of the Superior, nor to win the admiration of the sisters, but through the spirit of love and to please Jesus Christ. Hence the same saint has declared, that in not annexing the penalty of sin to the violation of the Rule of the Society of Jesus, his object was “to make love take the place of the fear of offending God.”² “Count,” says St. Eucherius of Lyons, “among the days of your life that day only on which you have denied self-will, and which you have spent without any violation of the Rule.”³ St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi has recommended three very efficacious means of observing the Rule: “1. Prize the Rule as you esteem God himself.

¹ “In spiritu amoris, et non cum perturbatione timoris.”—Const. p. 6, c. 1.

² “Loco timoris offensæ succedat amor.”—Ibid. c. 5.

³ “Count yourself to have lived only that day on which you denied your own wills and which you passed without any transgression of the Rule.”—Ad Monach. hom. 9.

2. Act as if you only were obliged to observe the Rule.

3. If the others fail in regular observance, endeavor to supply their deficiency.”

In a word, I say again, you must be persuaded that the perfection of a religious does not consist in great and manifold works, but in performing all her actions well. Great indeed was the praise of the multitude to Jesus Christ when they said: He hath done all things well.⁴ To achieve what is difficult and extraordinary is not given to all; nor can extraordinary works be performed at all times. But ordinary actions—such as the com-mon prayer, the examination of conscience, Communion, the hearing of Mass, the recitation of the divine Office, the fulfilment of the duties annexed to the offices of the Community, and the other obligations imposed by the Rule—are duties that may be discharged every day, and by all the members of the convent. Be assured that though in the fulfilment of ordinary duties you should be employed in the meanest occupations, the faithful discharge of them will certainly make you a saint. It is not enough to do what God wills: it is moreover necessary to do it in the manner he wishes. It is related in the Chronicles of the Cistercians, that St. Bernard saw many angels noting what the monks were doing in the choir. The works of on,e were written in gold, of another in silver, of a third in ink, and of a fourth in water, to denote the perfection or imperfection with which each attended to prayer. Consider then how easily, if you will, you can arrive at perfection: by the discharge of your ordinary duties you may become a saint. The Lord does not require of you lofty flights of contemplation, nor formidable penances: all that he demands is, that you perform all your actions well.

⁴ “Bene omnia fecit.”—Mark, vii. 37.

Many religious, on days of devotion,—for example, during the novena of the Nativity, of the Holy Ghost, and of the Blessed Virgin,—practise many exercises of piety, fasts, disciplines, vocal prayers, and similar works of penance. All these are very good; but the best devotion for a religious on such occasions is to perform her ordinary duties with extraordinary perfection. The perfection of an action consists, first, in that it is done through the sole motive of pleasing God; for it is not the external act, but purity of intention, that constitutes perfection. All the glory of the king’s daughter is within.¹ The perfection of an action consists, secondly, in doing it well; that is, with promptness, attention, and exact-ness. The following are the means of performing our actions well:

¹ “Omnis gloria ejus filiæ regis ab intus.”—Ps. xliv. 14.

1. The first means is to preserve during the discharge of your duties a lively sense of the presence of God, that thus every act may be worthy of his divine eyes.

2. The second means is, to perform every work as if it were the only duty you had to fulfil. When at prayer, let your sole care be to pray well; when you say the divine Office, direct all your attention to the devout recitation of it; when engaged in any employment enjoined by obedience, your sole concern should be to discharge it well. Think of nothing but the duty in which you are occupied. To examine, during the time of prayer, how you will execute a certain command, or how you will direct a certain work, or to reflect on the means of performing any other duty, is a temptation of the enemy. “When,” says Father M. Avila, “any unseasonable thought enters your mind, say: God does not will that I think at this moment on such a subject; and therefore it is not useful for me to reflect upon it: when he commands me, I shall attend to it.”

3. The third means is, to perform every action as if it were the last of your life. St. Anthony frequently recommended this means to his disciples. “In every work,” says St. Bernard, “let each one say to himself: If I were about to die, would I do this?”¹ Would I do it in this manner? Were this the last Mass that I should hear, with what devotion would I be present at it? Were this the last Office that I should recite, with what attention would I say it! Were this my last Communion or my last meditation, with what fervor would I perform it! When, says St. Basil, you discharge the duties of the morning, imagine that you shall not live till evening; when night approaches, think that you shall not see the morning.¹ It is related of a certain Dominican, who was accustomed to go to confession every morning before he offered the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, that, being seized with a serious malady, his Superior commanded him to prepare for death by a good confession. The good religious raised his hands to heaven, and exclaimed: Blessed be God, I have confessed every day for the last thirty years, as if I were to die suddenly. Blessed, says the Redeemer, is that servant, whom, when his Lord shall come, he shall find so doing.² And happy the religious whom, should death come suddenly upon her, Jesus Christ, her judge, shall find performing the duty in which she may be engaged, as if she knew it to be the last of her life.

¹ “In omni opere suo, dicat sibi: Si modo moriturus esses, faceres istud?”—Spec. Monach. n. i.

¹ Admon. ad fil. spir.

² “Beatus ille servus quem, cum venerit Dominus ejus, invenerit sic facientem.”—Matt, xxiv. 46.

4. To think each day only on the labors of the day, is another means which greatly assists weak souls to discharge their duties with fervor. The apprehension of the pains to be endured, in living till death with so much exactness, and in continually resisting self-love, is one of the causes which make many lose courage in the way of God. The best means of conquering this temptation is, to imagine each morning that you have but one day to live. Whoever represents to himself that only one day of life remains, will certainly perform all the actions of that day with great perfection. This means is very profitable to weak souls; but strong and perfect Christians do not require to conceal from themselves the labors necessary for the attainment of sanctity; they rejoice in suffering, and pant for opportunities of pleasing God.

5. To religious beginning to walk in the way of perfection it will be very useful means to consider that what is in itself difficult and painful will by habit soon become easy and agreeable. I will, says the Holy Ghost, lead thee by the paths of equity; which, when thou shalt have entered, thy steps shall not be straitened; and when thou runnest, thou shalt not meet a stumbling-block.¹ I will, says the Lord, first conduct you into the narrow paths of virtue; but you shall soon walk through a broad and pleasing way, and there you shall run without difficulties or obstacles. “At first,” says St. Bernard, writing to Pope Eugenius, “some duty will seem intolerable; if you accustom yourself to it, in process of time it will not appear so difficult: afterwards you shall not feel it; and in the end you will delight in it.” ² Behold with your eyes, says Ecclesiasticus, how I have labored a little, and have found much rest to myself.³

¹ “I shall lead you along the paths of equity; when you have entered them, your steps shall not be constrained, and while running you shall have no stumbling block.”—Prov. iv. 11, 12.

² “At first something seems unbearable to you; in the course of time, if you become accustomed to it, you will judge it not so burdensome; a little afterward you will not even feel it; a little afterward it will even delight you.”—De Consid. l. 1, c. 2.

³ “Modicum laboravi, et inveni mihi multam requiem.”—Ecclus. li. 35.

Prayer.

O my God! I am that unhappy soul that has long since merited the curse of the barren fig-tree.⁴ Since I have produced no fruit, why should I occupy a place in religion? I have deserved to be cut down and cast into the fire. Unhappy me! I have been for so many years in religion, and favored with so many helps to sanctity, and what fruit have I brought forth? But Thou dost not wish that I despair, or diffide in Thy mercy. Thou hast said: Ask, and you shall receive. Since Thou dost desire me to ask for Thy graces, the first favor I seek is the pardon of all the displeasure that I have given to Thee. I have repaid Thy love and Thy benefits by so many insults; but I repent, my God, with my whole soul. The second grace I ask of Thee is the gift of Thy love, that henceforth I may love Thee, not with tepidity, as in my past life, but with my whole soul, and that I may never more give Thee the least displeasure, but that I may always do whatever I know to be pleasing to Thee. The third grace I ask is holy perseverance in Thy love. I now esteem Thy love more than all the kingdoms of the earth. Thou wishest me to be entirely Thine, and I desire to belong to Thee without reserve. On the Cross and in the Blessed Sacrament Thou hast given Thyself entirely to me; I offer my whole being to Thee. I thank Thee for enabling me by Thy grace to make this oblation. Since Thou hast inspired, I hope thou hast accepted it. O my Jesus, I am Thine, and I trust that Thou wilt be mine for all eternity. I desire not that my inclinations, but Thy holy will, may live henceforth in me. And I promise from this day forward to observe all, even the smallest, of the rules of religion; because I know that all of them are approved by Thee. O my Love, my Love! I will say with St. Catharine of Genoa, no more sins. I beseech Thee to make me always love Thee, or to take me out of life. Either love or death, O my God!

⁴ “Succide illam; ut quid etiam terram occupat?”—Luke, xiii. 6.

Mary, my mother, speak to thy Son, and obtain for me the grace to love him or to die.

VI. The Four Degrees of Perfect Obedience.

To be perfect in obedience, a religious must obey with promptness, exactness, cheerfulness, and simplicity. These are the degrees of perfect obedience. The First Degree.

The first degree, then, is to obey with promptness, executing immediately and without reply every injunction imposed by obedience. There are some who obey only after many entreaties of the Superior, and after many attempts to elude her commands. Religious that are truly obedient do not act in this manner. “A Christian faithful to obedience,” says St. Bernard, “knows not delays, but prepares his ears for hearing, and his hands and his feet for labor.”¹ A religious truly obedient is never slow to obey, but instantly applies her ears to hear every precept, and her hands and feet to execute every command. She does not indulge in slothful slumbers after the morning bell, but obeying its sound as the call of God himself, she instantly rises. On receiving a precept, she makes no reply, offers no excuses, manifests no repugnance, as some do, by a silence which often afflicts the Superior, but instantly and with external joy shows her readiness to obey, and immediately fulfils the command. She is not like those who are with difficulty made to submit to authority, and who by their reluctance to obey lose the greater part of the merit of obedience. No; to insure her compliance with every duty, neither entreaties, nor arguments, nor repeated commands are necessary. She fulfils at once, and without reply, every obligation of obedience.

¹ “Fidelis obediens nescit moras; parat aures auditui, manus operi, itineri pedes.”—De Divers, s. 41.

Oh! how meritorious in the sight of God is prompt obedience. He has several times shown, even by supernatural prodigies, how acceptable it is in his sight. St. Mark, a monk, while engaged in writing, was called by his Superior, the Abbot Silvan; the saint left unfinished a word which he had just begun, and instantly obeyed. On his return he found the remainder of the word written in letters of gold. Blosius¹ relates that a nun to whom the infant Jesus appeared, being summoned at the moment of his appearance to a certain duty, instantly obeyed the call. On her return she found him grown up to the age of manhood, and was addressed by him in the following words: “My child, your ready obedience has made me grow thus in your heart.” Jesus appeared to another religious, who on hearing the bell for Vespers left him, and went to the choir. When she returned to her cell, he appeared to her again and said: “Because you left me, you have found me again; had you not obeyed the call of duty, I should have departed from you.” To try the obedience of some of his monks who were confined to bed by sickness, St. Columban commanded them to rise, and go to the barn to thrash corn. As many as were filled with the true spirit of obedience instantly arose, and were suddenly restored to health. The others, because they were weak in spirit as well as in body, remained in bed and continued in their infirmities.¹

¹ Inst. spir. a pp. 4, c. 6.

¹ Platus, De Bono stat. rel. l. 2, c. 5.

God has also sometimes shown how much he dislikes tardy obedience. Blessed Juniper, while employed in planting a tree in the garden, was called by St. Francis. The brother did not obey the call immediately, but waited till he had finished the work in which he was engaged. The saint, to show him the fault he had committed by the tardiness of his obedience, cursed the tree, and on the part of God, commanded it to grow no larger. The tree obeyed, and never increased in size.² The narrator of this fact states, that when he wrote his annals the tree was preserved in the convent of the city of Cannula; that it remained green, but was as small as when it was planted. How scandalous is it to see certain religious slow to obey, for no other reason than because they are commanded to obey! Were the duty of obedience not of precept, they should perhaps discharge it without delay, because it would be agreeable to self-will. Some will obey only after having frequently said to the Superior: I cannot perform this duty. They would speak with more truth if they said: I do not wish to do what you command. St. Joseph Calasanctius used to say that he who instead of saying “I will not,” says “I cannot,” deceives himself, and not the Superior.

² Wading. Annal. Min. anno 1222, n. 11.

The Second Degree.

The second degree of obedience is to obey with exactness; that is, with punctuality, and without interpretation.

Punctually.—You should obey with punctuality, and not rob God of any part of your sacrifice by a mutilation of the victim you offer to him. You should carefully fulfil the whole duty imposed upon you, and employ in its discharge all the time prescribed by obedience. Some are punctual in the presence of the Superior, but in her absence they comply so imperfectly with the obligations of obedience, that it would be difficult to determine whether the fulfilment of their duties is a source of merit or demerit. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say, that “religious have consecrated their will not to men, but to God; that they have given it to him, not in part, but entirely and without reserve.”

Without Interpretations.—It is also necessary to obey without interpreting in your own favor the commands that you receive. A lay-brother, from another convent, came one day to the house of the Dominicans in Bologna. Being obliged to go out in haste on pressing and important business, he obtained permission from the Superior to take for his companion the brother whom he should first meet. Meeting, by chance, St. Thomas, he asked the saint in the name of the Superior to accompany him. The saint instantly obeyed, but being corpulent, walked slowly; the lay-brother, because his business was urgent, entreated the saint to quicken his pace. When the brother knew who his companion was, he frequently begged pardon of St. Thomas for having treated him so disrespectfully; but the holy Doctor bore all without the least sign of impatience.¹ St. Thomas might have interpreted the command of the Prior, and have reasonably inferred that it did not extend to him; but no: he wished to obey without reply and without interpretation, and when he was told that he might have excused himself, he answered that the sole concern of a religious should be, to fulfil with exactness the obligations of obedience.

¹ Surius, 7 Mart.

Cassian¹ relates that two young religious being sent by the Abbot John with a basket of figs, as a present to an aged monk who lived at a distance, missed their way and wandered through a desert for many days without food. In such necessity they might, without violating obedience, have interpreted in their own favor the command of the Superior, and have eaten of the figs sent to the monk; but rather than depart from even the letter of the precept, they submitted to a painful death. They were afterwards found dead, and the figs untouched.

¹ De Cœnob. inst. l. 5, c. 40.

I do not mean to say that it is never lawful to transgress the letter of a precept; or that it is wrong to interpret the will of Superiors, when circumstances justify or render necessary an interpretation of their command. But I assert that certain forced and sophistical interpretations differ but little from formal acts of disobedience. Subjects should always comply even with the letter of a precept, unless they be certain that the Superior does not intend to oblige them to fulfil it. Some religious, though fully acquainted with the will of the Superior, follow the dictates of their own caprice, saying that what they do is not forbidden. But Albert Magnus says that “a truly obedient man never waits for a command, but performs, as if commanded, whatever he knows or judges to be the will of his Superior.”² It is in the prompt fulfilment of the will of the Superior that perfect obedience consists. St. Thomas teaches that the will of the Superior, in whatever way it is known, should be regarded as a tacit precept by the religious who aspires to perfect obedience.¹

² “The truly obedient person never waits for a command; but, merely knowing or believing the will of the prelate, carries it out as a command.”—De Virtut. c. 3.

¹ 2. 2, q. 104, a. 2.

The Third Degree.

The third degree of obedience is to obey with joy. To obey with reluctance, and murmuring against Superiors, is a defect rather than an act of virtue. “If,” says St. Bernard, “murmuring in your heart, you begin to judge the Superior, though you externally comply with the precept, your compliance is not a virtue, but a covering of malice.”² If you murmur interiorly against the Superior, the fulfilment of her commands is but a cloak thrown over your malice. For your obedience is only external, and in your heart you disregard her authority and violate the divine law. Oh! what a misery to see certain religious who discharge with cheerfulness only the duties which they themselves have asked, or which they have been requested and entreated to perform, and who accept without reluctance only the offices by which their own self-love is gratified?

² “If you begin to judge the prelate, if you murmur in your heart, even though you fulfill the command outwardly, it is not virtue but a covering of malice.”—In Circumc. D. s. 3.

How can a person who importunes the Superior for a charge agreeable to her inclinations, who is willing to accept such a charge and no other—how, I say, can she be called an obedient religious? St. Ignatius used to say, that to regard as an act of obedience the fulfilment of a command extorted from a Superior is an illusion; and in confirmation of his assertion he adduced the following words of St. Bernard: “Whosoever, either openly or secretly, labors to obtain from his spiritual Father a precept agreeable to self-will, deceives and vainly flatters himself by imagining that he practises obedience; for in this he does not obey his Superior, but the Superior rather obeys him.”¹ Tritemius goes so far as to call the religious who obeys with reluctance a monster of the devil;² for he too obeys, but his obedience is forced. A religious who obeys only by constraint is in a certain sense worse than the demons; because she has promised obedience to God by her solemn vow, but they have not. In what, I ask, does the obedience of such a religious consist? Is it not in doing with cheerfulness what pleases her own caprice, and in performing what is painful to self-love with reluctance, and with external signs of discontent? “What room is there for obedience,” says St. Bernard, “where the bitterness of sadness is perceived?”³

¹ “Whoever, either openly or secretly, strives to have his spiritual father enjoin upon him what he already has in his own will deceives himself if he flatters himself as though concerning obedience; for in that matter he does not obey the prelate, but rather the prelate obeys him.”—De divers. s. 35.

² “Monstra diaboli.”

³ “Quis locus obedientiæ, ubi tristitiæ cernitur ægritudo?”—Ibid. s. 41.

God loveth a cheerful giver.⁴ says the Apostle. The Lord loves the man who performs with cheerfulness whatever he does for the love of God. Religious filled with the true spirit of obedience execute with the greatest joy the commands that are most opposed to their inclinations; because it is in the fulfilment of such commands that they are most certain of not doing their own will, and of doing the will of God. And what can give greater happiness to a Christian than in the performance of every duty to be able to say: By this action I please God? If you, dear sister, desire to give great pleasure to Jesus Christ, beg of the Superior to impose upon you whatever precepts she pleases without any regard to your inclinations; for thus she will be more free in prescribing to you the necessary duties, and you shall have greater merit in executing her orders. You shall then be certain of deserving as great a reward by works agreeable to self-love as by the exercises opposed to the feelings of flesh and blood. Never depart from the excellent rule of St. Francis de Sales—neither to ask nor to refuse any duty.

⁴ “Hilarem enim datorem diligit Deus.”—2 Cor. ix. 7.

“Obedience,” says St. John Climacus, “is the sepulchre of self-will.”¹ Some call obedience the death of self-will; but it is more properly denominated its sepulchre. For the dead, as long as they are unburied, may be seen; but after their interment they are no longer visible. Some destroy self-will by the practice of obedience, but still allow it to appear in their exterior. In the perfect, self-will is not only dead, but buried; so that in their actions it can never be perceived.

¹ “Obedientia est sepulcrum propria? voluntatis.”—Scala parad. gr. 4.

In St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi self-will was so completely extinguished that her Superiors could never know what was agreeable or disagreeable to her. Endeavor to imitate her conduct, and to receive with perfect indifference all the duties, offices, and employments that may be assigned to you; and to fulfil them with cheerfulness and alacrity. If you desire to discharge your obligations with true joy, you must perform them from the pure intention of pleasing God. If you comply with them to obtain the friendship of the Superior, to induce her to grant your requests, to escape her displeasure, or the charge of disobedience, or through any other motive of self-interest, you may indeed satisfy the Superior, but you will not please God, and therefore you shall suffer all the fatigue and pains of obedience without enjoying the tranquillity of an obedient religious. Moreover, if to please God be the sole end of your obedience, you will cheerfully obey, not only when the tone and manner of the Superior are sweet and agreeable, but also when her directions are given in severe and commanding language: in this merit consists.

Father Rodriguez relates that St. Gertrude besought the Lord to deliver the abbess from her roughness of manner and impatience towards the sisters, but in answer Almighty God told her that he permitted these defects in the abbess to keep her humble, and for the greater trial and merit of the religious.

The Fourth Degree.

The fourth and last degree of perfect obedience is to obey with simplicity. Servants, says the Apostle, be obedient... in the simplicity of your hearts.¹ To be simple of heart you must subject your own judgment to that of the Superior, and esteem as just and reasonable whatever she commands. Behold how the Holy Ghost teaches his spouse the duty of perfect obedience: If thou knowest not thyself, O fairest among women, go forth, and follow after the steps of thy flocks.² O fairest of women, if you know not how to make yourself the object of my love, come and I will teach you; go forth from thyself, and follow after the steps of thy flocks, which, when sent to pasture, ask not where or when or why they go? They obey their pastor without reply: so should a religious obey without demanding the reasons why she should obey.

¹ “Obedite . . . in simplicitate cordis vestri.”—Ephes. vi. 5.

² “Si ignoras te, o pulcherrima inter mulieres! egredere, et abi post vestigia gregum.”—Cant. i. 7.

That great servant of God, Father Pavone, of the Society of Jesus, used to say that obedience, to be perfect, should captivate the intellect as well as the will. The obedience of a religious whose will only obeys, and whose understanding condemns what the Superior commands, is lame and imperfect. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi says that “perfect obedience requires a soul without a will, and a will without an intellect.” Hence to acquire the perfect spirit of obedience the saint was accustomed, first to captivate her judgment, and then to perform the duty imposed upon her. He who does not practise obedience of the intellect will hardly obey with cheerfulness; his submission will be that of a slave—the result of force, not the obedience of a child, and the fruit of love. Hence the Apostle says: With a good will serving as to the Lord, and not to men.¹ Obey with a good will, serving God rather than men. Your obedience will never be cheerful unless it proceed from a motive of pleasing God, who can never err in his precepts, and who commands only what will be profitable to us.

¹ “Cum bona voluntate servientes, sicut Domino, et non hominibus.”—Eph. vi. 7.

St. Thomas teaches that though the commands of a Superior may appear impossible, a religious should make an effort to fulfil them. Because subjects have no right to decide on the possibility or impossibility of a precept imposed upon them. “Perfect obedience,” says St. Bernard, “is indiscreet.”² In subjects perfect obedience does not require discretion. And in another place the saint says: “It is impossible for a prudent novice to persevere in religion.”³ A novice who regulates her obedience by her own prudence cannot persevere in the religious state. Because, continues the saint, to assume the office of Superior is, in a novice, insufferable pride. “To decide belongs to the Superior; and to obey is the duty of the subject.”⁴ To decide what is to be done is the prerogative of the Superior, and to fulfil her commands the bounden duty of subjects. St. Ignatius once said that should the Pope command him to undertake a voyage by sea in a ship without a mast, without oars or sails, he would blindly obey the precept. And when he was told that it would be imprudent to expose his life to danger, he answered that prudence is necessary in Superiors; but in subjects the perfection of prudence is to obey without prudence.

² “Perfecta obedientia est indiscreta.”—De Vit. sol. c. 5.

³ “Novitium prudentem in congregatione durare, impossibile est.”

⁴ “Discernere superioris est, aliorum est obedire.”

This doctrine is conformable to Holy Scripture: Behold, says the Lord, as clay is in the potter’s hands.¹ Religious must leave themselves in the hands of the Superior to be moulded as she wills. Shall the clay say to him that fashioneth it: What art thou making?² If clay should dare to say to the potter, Why hast thou formed me thus?—the potter ought to answer: Be silent: it is not your business to inquire what I do, but to obey and to receive whatever form I please to give you. Such the answer merited by religious who seek to know why a precept, an office, or a duty is imposed upon them. St. Jerome, in an epistle to Rusticus, a monk, says: “It is your duty to obey: judge not of the decision of your Superiors.”³ In the lives of the monks of La Trappe we read that a good religious called Arsenius judged to be superfluous the expense incurred by the Superior in making the church more commodious. But afterwards, reflecting that his judgment was in opposition to that of his Superior, he went immediately and with tears accused himself of his fault as if it were a great crime. The abbot told him that his fault was not so grievous as he imagined; but Arsenius could not restrain the torrent of tears which flowed from his eyes.

¹ “Quasi lutum figuli in manu ipsius.”—Ecclus. xxxiii. 13.

² “Numquid dicet lutum figulo suo: Quid facis . . . ?”—Is. xlv. 9.

³ “Nec de majorum sententia judices, cujus officium est obedire.”

To regard as good whatever Superiors command, is the blind obedience so much praised by the saints; and is the duty of every religious, and this for four reasons: i. Because, according to the proverb, no one is fit to be a judge in his own cause.⁴ When there is question of their own interest, self-love renders it difficult for all men to distinguish truth from falsehood; and therefore no one should be the judge of what regards himself. 2. Because a Superior is acquainted with a great many circumstances of which subjects are ignorant; and therefore her opinion should be preferred to theirs. 3. Because subjects only regard their own interests; but the Superior looks to the good of the Community. 4. Because Superiors are assisted, in a particular manner, by Almighty God to govern the Community; and therefore are favored with lights not given to subjects.

⁴ “Nemo rectus judex sui ipsius.”

Of St. Paul it is written, that after his conversion, when his eyes were opened, he saw nothing. But they leading him by the hand, brought him to Damascus.¹ Some religious are unwilling to obey without examining whether the duty imposed upon them will be profitable or unprofitable to them. Should it appear not suited to them, they either refuse to obey, or obey only with reluctance, and sometimes go so far as to charge the Superior with imprudence, indiscretion, or partiality. All this arises from a want of the spirit of blind obedience, and from a desire to demand from the Superior the reason why she imposes certain duties. “To seek for reasons is,” according to St. Bernard, “a sign of an imperfect heart.”² Whoever demands the reason of a precept shows a very imperfect will. It was by asking the reasons of the divine command that the devil tempted Eve to eat the forbidden apple, and succeeded in making her prevaricate. Why, said the serpent, hath God commanded you, that you should not eat of every tree in paradise?³ Had Eve answered: It belongs not to us to seek the reason of the precept: it is our duty to obey;—she should not have fallen. But because she began to examine the reason of the command, she replied, We can eat of the fruits of paradise. There is but one tree which we are forbidden to touch, lest perhaps we die.¹ Perceiving that she began to doubt the threatened punishment of death, he rejoined, Be not afraid, you shall not die.² and thus he persuaded her to transgress the command of God.

¹ “Apertisque oculis, nihil videbat; ad manus autem illum trahentes, introduxerunt Damascum.”—Acts, ix. 8.

² “Imperfecti cordis indicium est, exigere de quibusque rationem.”—De Præc. et Disp. c. 10.

³ “Cur præcepit vobis Deus ut non comederetis de omni ligno paradisi?”—Gen. iii. 1.

¹ “Ne forte moriamur.”—Gen. iii. 3.

² “Nequaquam morte moriemini.”—Ibid. 4.

Religious that are truly obedient seek not for reasons; but, like St. Paul, with open eyes, they see not, and reduce a haughty intellect to the subjection of obedience, by submitting their judgment to that of their Superior. St. John Climacus³ says that a religious should banish thoughts opposed to obedience, as she would reject thoughts against chastity, that is, immediately, and without reply; and that, instead of questioning the reasonableness of the precepts of her Superior, she should always seek for reasons to defend their expediency. Almighty God has several times shown, in a miraculous manner, how much he delights in the blind obedience of religious. Sulpitius Severus relates,⁴ that to try the obedience of a young man who applied for admission into a certain monastery, the abbot commanded him to walk into a furnace filled with burning coals. The young man instantly plunged into the fire, but received no injury; his clothes were not even touched. St. Gregory⁵ relates that St. Benedict commanded St. Maurus to follow the young St. Placidus, who had fallen into a river. St. Maurus obeyed, walked on the waters, and saved the life of the boy. These examples are not to be imitated. The precepts given by these holy men, and their fulfilment, proceeded from extraordinary impulses of the Holy Ghost, who assured the Superiors that by their commands, and the subjects that by their obedience, they were accomplishing the divine will. But at the same time they show how much God is pleased by blind unhesitating obedience.

³ Scal. parad. gr. 4.

⁴ De Virt. mon. or. dial. l. 1, c. 12.

⁵ Dial. l. 2, c. 7.

To try the obedience of their subjects, Superiors sometimes impose commands that are inexpedient, and even absurd. St. Francis commanded his disciples to plant cabbages with their roots uppermost. He obliged Brother Matthew to continue turning round till he fell to the ground. St. Teresa made similar trials of her children. But you will ask, Of what use are such precepts? In answer I ask, Why are untrained horses made sometimes to run, sometimes to stop, and sometimes to go back? All these contribute to make them obedient to the bridle; and to exercise religious in what appears extravagant and useless accustoms them to subdue the stubbornness of their own will, and to subject their own judgments to that of their Superiors.

St. Joseph Calasanctius used to say, that “to follow one’s own judgment in the practice of obedience, is not obedience.” In every act of your life, be careful, dear sister, never to prefer your opinion to that of your Superiors. St. Philip Neri has remarked, that nothing is more dangerous than to be directed by one’s own counsel. Peter of Blois says that “to trust one’s self alone, is the greatest of evils.”¹ Cassian asserts that “it is impossible for him who confides in his own judgment to escape the deceits and illusions of the devil.”² Hence St. John Chrysostom teaches that “nothing is so destructive of the Church as a separation of disciples from their masters.”¹ There is nothing which does greater injury to the Church of God than the opposition of disciples to the opinion of their masters; and there is nothing more ruinous to a religious Community than the disregard of the sisters for the judgment of their Superiors.

¹ “Sibi solum credere, pessimum est.”

² “impossibile est, qui proprio fidit judicio, diaboli illusione non decipi.”—Coll. 16, c. 11.

¹ “Nihil est quod Ecclesiam Dei ita destruere potest, ut quando discipuli magistris non cohærent.”—In illud ad Rom. c. 16, Salutate, etc.

Prayer. O my Jesus, Thou dost never abandon a soul that seeks Thee. Thou hast not forsaken them that love thee.² I have left the world to find Thee in this holy place: but I have only sought myself and my own pleasures, and thus I have greatly offended Thee. Forget, O Lord, the past, and pardon the offences which I have committed against Thee, and which I now abhor with my whole soul. I feel a strong desire to become a saint, and to please Thee in all things. I know that this desire is Thy gift. Ah! my Spouse, what has induced Thee to visit with so much love a soul so ungrateful, and to bestow upon me so many graces, after all the insults I have offered to Thee? With an humble and a contrite heart I thank Thee for all Thy favors: be a thousand times blessed for them. Thou dost invite me to Thy love; and I desire to obey Thy call. I know the value of this grace, and am resolved never more to be unmindful of Thy benefits, as I have hitherto been. I love Thee, O my Sovereign Good! I love Thee, O my God! Thou art my only treasure, and the only object of my love. Give me strength to correspond, by my affections, to the love which Thou dost bear me. Grant that I may love Thee always; that I may love Thee intensely: I ask nothing more.

² “Non dereliquisti quærentes te, Domine.”—Dan. xiv. 37.

O my mother, Mary, thank thy Son for me, and obtain for me the grace to be faithful to him during the remainder of my life. O Mother of God, in thee I trust.