Chapter XI: Holy Humility

The Advantages of Humility.

Humility has been regarded by the saints as the basis and guardian of all virtues. Although in point of excellence the virtue of humility does not hold the highest rank, still, according to St. Thomas, because it is the foundation of all virtues it has obtained the first place among them. Hence, as in the structure of an edifice, the foundation takes precedence of the walls, and even of the golden ornaments, so, to expel pride, which God resists, humility must, in the edification of the spiritual man, precede all other virtues. “Humility,” says the angelic Doctor, “holds the first place, inasmuch as it expels pride, which God resists.”¹ Hence St. Gregory asserts that “he who gathers virtues without humility is like the man who carries dust against the wind.”² His virtues shall be scattered.

¹ “Humilitas primum locum tenet, in quantum expellit superbiam cui Deus resistit.”—2. 2, q. i6r, a. 5.

² “Qui sine humilitate virtutes congregat, quasi in ventum pulverem portat.”—In Ps. penit. iii.

There was in the desert a certain hermit who had a high character for sanctity.³ At the hour of death he sent for the abbot, and asked from him the Viaticum. During the administration of the holy sacrament a public robber ran to the cell; but seized with compunction for his sins, he esteemed himself unworthy to enter, or to be present at so sacred a ceremony, and in the humility of his soul exclaimed: “Oh that I were what you are!” The dying monk heard the words, and, swelled with pride, said: “Happy, indeed, should you be were you as holy as I am.” After these words he expired: the robber immediately ran off from the place for the purpose of going to confession; on his way he fell over a precipice and was killed. At the death of the hermit his companion burst into tears; but at the fate of the robber he exulted with joy. Being asked why he wept over the death of the former and rejoiced at the melancholy end of the latter, he replied: Because the robber was saved by contrition for his past sins, but my companion is damned in punishment of his pride. Do not imagine that the hermit yielded to pride only at the hour of death: from his last words it is clear that pride had long before taken root in his heart; by its baneful influence he was brought to a miserable eternity. “Unless,” says St. Augustine, “humility shall have preceded, shall be continued, and shall have followed, pride will wrest the whole from our hands.”¹ Yes, the rapacious grasp of pride shall tear from us every good work which is not preceded, accompanied, and followed by humility.

³ Spee. Exempl. dist. 9, ex. 199.

¹ “Nisi humilitas praecesserit, et comitetur, et consecuta fuerit, totum extorquet de manu superbia.”—-Epist. 118. E. B.

This sublime virtue was but little known, but little loved, and greatly abhorred on earth, where pride, the cause of the ruin of Adam and of his posterity, enjoyed universal sway. Therefore the Son of God came down from heaven to teach it to men by his example as well as by his preaching. To instruct them in humility he came upon earth in the likeness of flesh and in the form of a servant.² He emptied himself, says the Apostle, taking the form of a servant? He wished to be treated as the most contemptible of men. Despised, says the Prophet Isaias, and the most abject of men.¹ Behold him in Bethlehem, born in a stable and laid in a manger; in Nazareth, poor, unknown, and employed in the humble occupation of assisting a poor artisan. Look at him in Jerusalem, scourged as a slave, buffeted as the vilest of men, crowned with thorns as a mock king, and in the end suffering as a malefactor the ignominious death of the cross. And with all his humiliations before your eyes hearken to his advice: I have given you an example, that as I have done so you do also.² As if he said: My children, I have embraced so much ignominy that you may not refuse abjection. Speaking of the humiliations of the Son of God, St. Augustine says: “If this medicine cure not your pride, I know not what will heal it.”³ Hence in one of his epistles to Dioscorus he tells his friends that it is principally by humility a man is made the disciple of Jesus, and that the soul is prepared for a union with God. “The first,” says the saint, “is humility; the second, humility; the third, humility, and as often as you would ask I should answer, humility.”⁴

The proud are objects of hatred and abomination before God. Every proud man, says the Holy Ghost, is an abomination to the Lord.⁵ Yes; for the proud man is a robber, and is blind; he is a liar, and the truth is not in him. He is a robber, because he appropriates to himself what belongs to God. What hast thou that thou hast not received?⁶ Would it not be the extreme of folly in a brute animal (were it gifted with reason) to glory in the gilded trappings of which it knows it may be stripped at the beck of its master? The proud man is blind, as we learn from the Apocalypse of St. John. Thou sayest I am rich, and knowest not that thou art wretched and blind:¹ And what has man of his own but nothingness and sin? Even the little good that he does, when examined with rigor, will appear full of imperfection. “All our justice,” says St. Bernard, “if rigorously judged, will be found to be injustice.”² Lastly, the proud man is a liar, and the truth is not in him. For all his advantages, whether of nature—such as health, talent, beauty, and the like; or of grace—such as good desires, a docile heart, and an enlightened mind, are all the gifts of God. By the grace of God, says St. Paul, I am what I am:³ The same apostle tells us that of ourselves⁴ we are not capable of even a good thought. Not that we are sufficient to think anything of ourselves as of ourselves:

² “Semetipsum exinanivit, formam servi accipiens.”—Phil. ii. 7.

¹ “Despectum, et novissimum virorum.”—Is. liii. 3.

² “Exemplum enim dedi vobis, ut, quemadmodum ego feci vobis, ita et vos faciatis.”—John, xiii. 15.

³ “Hæc medicina si superbiam non curat, quid eam curet, nescio.”—Serm. 77, E. B.

⁴ “Ea est prima humilitas, secunda humilitas, tertia humilitas; et quoties interrogares, hoc dicerem.”—Epist. 118, E. B.

⁵ “Abominatio Domini est omnis arrogans.”—Prov. xvi. 5.

⁶ “Quid autem habes, quod non accepisti?”—1 Cor. iv. 7.

¹ “Nescis quia tu es miser... et cecus.”—Apoc. iii. 17.

² “Si districte judicetur, injusta invenietur omnis justitia nostra.”— In fest. Omn. Sanct. s. 1.

³ “Gratia autem Dei sum id quod sum.”—1 Cor. xv. 10.

⁴ “Nonquod sufficientes simus cogitare aliquid a nobis.”—2 Cor. iii 5.

Woe to the proud religious! Into a haughty soul the Spirit of God cannot enter; over all its actions the devil exercises the most arbitrary despotism. “With the proud religious,” says St. Joseph Calasanctius, “Satan sports himself as with a toy.” Cesarius relates⁵ that when a demoniac was once brought to a certain monastery, the abbot asked the evil spirit whether he would depart at the command of a certain young monk who was reputed a saint. “No,” replied the demon, “I am not afraid of him, because he is proud.”

⁵ Dial. 1. 4. c. 5.

To preserve his servants from pride, the Lord sometimes permits them to be afflicted with the shameful solicitations of the flesh; to their repeated prayers to be delivered from the suggestions of Satan and of their own corruption he appears deaf, and leaves them to combat with the temptation. It was thus he treated St. Paul; and, says the saint, Lest the greatness of the revelations should exalt me, there was given to me a sting of the flesh, an angel of Satan to buffet me. For which thing thrice I besought the Lord that it might depart from me, and he said to me, My grace is sufficient for thee:¹ “To keep him humble,” says St. Jerome, “the Almighty refused to deliver the apostle from the molestation of the flesh by which he was tormented.” Moreover, to teach them humility, the Lord sometimes permits the elect to fall into sin. Thus, David acknowledges that he sinned because he had not been humble. Before I was humbled, I offended.²

¹ “There was given me a sting of my flesh, an angel of Satan, to buffet me; for which reason I besought the Lord three times that it might depart from me, and he said to me: My grace is sufficient for you.”—2 Cor. xii. 7.

² “Priusquam humiliarer, ego deliqui.”—S. cxviii. 67.

“God,” says St. Augustine, “sits on high; you humble yourself, and he descends to you; you exalt yourself, and he flies from you.”³ The royal prophet says that the Lord looketh at the low, and the high he knoweth afar off.⁴ He regards the humble with an affectionate eye, but the proud he beholds only at a distance. As we cannot recognize a person whom we see from afar, so the Lord appears to tell the proud, in the words of the Psalmist, that he knows them not. There was in a certain monastery a religious who had the insolence to say to one of her companions: “You and I wear, indeed, the same habit, and sit at the same table; but though my equal in religion, you are not fit to be a servant in my father’s house.” Oh, how poor and naked before the Lord was this haughty nun!

³ “God is on high: you raise yourself, and he flees from you; you humble yourself, and he descends to you.”—Serm. 177, App. E. B.

⁴ “Excelsus Dominus, et humilia respicit, et alta a longe cognoscit.” —Ps. cxxxvii. 6.

The proud are hateful before God; he cannot bear them. As soon as the angels yielded to pride, he banished them from paradise and sent them into hell, far distant from his presence. The words of God must be fulfilled: Whosoever, says the Lord, shall exalt himself, shall be humbled.¹ St. Peter Damian relates² that a certain proud man had resolved to assert his right to an estate by single combat; before the time appointed for the duel he went to Mass, and hearing in the church the above-mentioned words of the Gospel: Whosoever shall exalt himself, shall be humbled, he exclaimed: This cannot be true: for had I humbled myself I should have lost my property and my character. But when he came to the combat, his sacrilegious tongue was cut across by the sword of his antagonist, and he instantly fell dead on the ground.

¹ “Qui autem se exaltabitur, humiliabitur.”—Matt, xxiii. 12.

² Op. 34 de Var. mir. Narrat. c. 4.

God, says St. James, resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.³ The Lord has promised to hear the prayers of all. Every one that asketh, receiveth.⁴ The proud he hears not; according to the Apostle, he resists their petitions. But to the humble he is liberal beyond measure: He giveth grace to the humble. To them he opens his hands, and grants whatsoever they ask or desire. Humble thyself to God, says the Holy Ghost, and wait for his hands.⁵ Humble your soul before the Lord, and expect from his hands whatever you seek from him.

³ “Deus superbis resistit; humilibus autem dat gratiam.”—Ames, iv. 6.

⁴ “Omnis enim qui petit, accipit.”—Luke, xi. 10.

⁵ “Humiliare Deo, et exspecta manus ejus.”—Rectus, xiii. 9.

“Give me, O Lord,” exclaims St. Augustine, “the treasure of humility.”⁶ Humility is a treasure, because upon the humble the Lord pours every blessing in abundance. A heart full of self cannot be replenished with the gifts of God. To receive the divine favors, the soul must be first emptied by the knowledge of her own nothingness. Thou sendest forth, says David, springs in the vales: between the midst of the hills the waters shall pass.¹ God makes the waters of his graces abound in the valleys, that is, in humble souls; but not on the mountains; the emblems of the proud and the haughty. In the midst of these, his graces pass, but remain not upon them. Because, says Mary, he hath regarded the humility of his handmaid.... He that is mighty hath done great things to me.² The Lord looking upon my humility, and my sense of nothingness, hath bestowed great favors upon me.

⁶ “Domine, concede mihi thesaurum humilitatis.”—Medit. c. I.

¹ “Qui emittis fontes in convallibus; inter medium montium pertransibunt aquæ.”—Ps. ciii. 10.

² “Quia respexit humilitatem ancillæ suæ, . . . fecit mihi magna, qui potens est.”—Luke, i. 48, 49.

St. Teresa relates of herself, that the greatest graces that she received from God were infused into her soul when she humbled herself most before the Lord in prayer. The prayer of him that humbleth himself shall pierce the clouds, and he will not depart till the Most High behold.³ The humble obtain from God whatever they ask: they need not be afraid of being confounded, or of being left without consolation. Let not, says David, the humble be turned away with confusion.”⁴ Hence, St. Joseph Calasanctius used to say: “If you wish to be a saint, be humble; if you wish to be a very great saint, be most humble.” To St. Francis Borgia, while a secular, a holy man once said: “If you desire to be a saint, never let a day pass without thinking of your miseries.” Hence the saint spent every day the first two hours of prayer in the study of his own nothingness, and in sentiments of self-contempt.

³ “Oratio humiliantis se nubes pertransibit; . . . et non discedet, donec Altissimus aspiciat.”—Ecclus. xxxv. 21.

⁴ “Ne avertatur humilis, factus confusus.”—Ps. lxxiii. 21.

St. Gregory says “that pride is the most evident mark of the reprobate; but humility is, on the contrary, the most evident mark of the elect.”¹ Seeing the world covered with the toils of the devil, St. Anthony, with a sigh, exclaimed: “Who can escape so many snares!”² Anthony,” replied a strange voice, “it is only humility that passes through them with security: the humble man is not in danger of being caught by them.” In a word, unless we are like infants, not in years but in humility, we shall never attain salvation. Unless you become as little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.³ In the life of St. Palemon it is related that a certain monk who walked on burning coals said to his companions: Which of you can tread on red-hot fire without being burnt. The saint reproved him for his vanity, but the unhappy man did not amend. Puffed up with pride, he afterwards fell into sin, and died without repentance.

¹ “Evidentissimum reproborum signum superbia est; at contra, humilitas electorum.”—Mor. l. 34, c. 22.

² Vitæ Patr. l. 3, n. 129.

³ “Nisi efficiamini sicut parvuli, non intrabitis in regnum cœlorum.”—Matt. xviii. 3.

To the humble who are despised and persecuted on earth is promised the glory of God’s kingdom. Blessed are ye when they shall revile and persecute you, for your reward is very great in heaven.”⁴ The humble shall be happy in this life as well as in the next. Learn of me, says Jesus, because I am meek and humble of heart; and you shall find rest to your souls.⁵ The proud never enjoy peace, because they never receive the respect or attention which a vain opinion of their own greatness makes them regard as their due. When loaded with honors, they are not content; either because they see others still more exalted; or, because they desire some unattainable dignity, the absence of which is to them a source of torture, not to be removed by the gratification arising from all the honors that they enjoy. Great, indeed, was the glory of Aman, in the court of Assuerus, where he sat at the monarch’s table. But, because Mardochai would not salute him, he was unhappy. And whereas I have all these things, I think I have nothing so long as I see Mardochai, the Jew, sitting before the king’s gate.¹ Being the result of constraint and of human respect, the honor shown to the great does not give true joy. “True glory,” says St. Jerome, “like a shadow, follows virtue: it flies from all who grasp at it, and seeks after those who despise it.”²

⁴ “Blessed are you when they curse you and persecute you, . . . because your reward is abundant in heaven.”—Matt. v. 11.

⁵ “Discite a me quia mitis sum et humilis corde, et invenietis requiem animabus vestris.”—Matt. xi. 29.

¹ “And although I have all these things, I think that I have nothing, so long as I see Mardochai the Jew sitting before the king’s gates.”—Esth. v. 13.

² “Virtutem quasi umbra sequitur, et, appetitores sui deserens, appetit contemptores.”—Ep. ad Eustoch.

The humble man is always content, because whatever respect is paid to him he deems to be above his merits, and whatever contempt may be offered to him he regards as far short of what is due to his sins. In humiliation he exclaims with holy Job: I have sinned, and indeed I have offended, and I have not received what I have deserved.³ Previously to a long journey which he was obliged to make, St. Francis Borgia was advised to dispatch a courier, who would secure accommodation for his master at the hotels where he intended to stop. “I never,” replied the saint, “fail to send my courier before me. But do you know who he is? My courier is the thought of hell, which my sins have merited; this thought makes every lodging appear to me a palace in comparison of the dungeon to which I deserve to be condemned.”

³ r> a pcccavii et vere deliqui, et, ut eram dignus, non recepi.”—Job, xxxiii. 27.

Prayer.

O my God, after having committed so many sins, how is it possible that such an excess of pride should still reign in my soul? I now see that my faults have not only rendered me ungrateful to Thee, but have also made me proud. Cast me not away from thy face? as I have deserved. Have pity on me: enlighten my soul, and make me feel what I am and what I merit. How many, for fewer sins than I have committed, are now in hell, and have no hope of pardon! I know that Thou dost offer me pardon if I wish for it. Yes, Lord, I desire it:

O my Redeemer, pardon me all my sins of pride, by which I have not only despised my neighbor, but have also despised Thee, my Sovereign Good. With St. Catharine of Genoa I will say: “My God, no more sins! no more sins.” I have sinned enough. I desire never more to abuse Thy patience.

I love Thee, O my God, and I desire to spend the remainder of my life only in loving and in pleasing Thee. My Jesus, assist me. The stronger my present desire to belong entirely to Thee, the more violently will the powers of hell tempt me to sin. Assist me, O Lord, and leave me not in my own hands.

Most holy Virgin Mary, thou knowest that in thee I have placed all my hopes; do not cease to assist me by thy prayers, which God never rejects.

II. The Humility of the Intellect or of the Judgment.

After having maturely considered the great advantages of humility, let us now examine what must be done for its attainment.

There are two sorts of humility: the humility of the intellect, and the humility of the will or of the heart. Here we shall speak of the former, without which the latter cannot be acquired.¹

¹ “Ne projicias me a facie tua.”

Humility of the intellect consists in thinking lowly of ourselves; in esteeming ourselves to be vile and miserable creatures, such as we really are. “Humility,” says St. Bernard, “is a virtue which, by the knowledge of himself, makes a man contemptible in his own estimation.”¹ Humility is truth, as St. Teresa has well said,² and therefore the Lord greatly loves the humble, because they love the truth. It is too true that we are nothing; that we are ignorant, blind, and unable to do any good. Of our own we have nothing but sin, which renders us worse than nothing; and of ourselves we can do nothing but evil. Whatever good we have or perform belongs to God and comes from his hands. This truth the humble man keeps continually before his eyes; he therefore appropriates to himself only what is evil, deems himself worthy of all sorts of contempt; and cannot bear to hear others attribute to him what he does not deserve. On the contrary, he delights in seeing himself despised and treated according to his deserts; and thus renders his soul most pleasing to God. “A Christian,” says St. Gregory, “becomes estimable before God in proportion as he is despicable in his own eyes.”³ Hence, speaking of nuns, St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say, that the two foundations of religious perfection are the love of God and the contempt of self. “Because,” says the saint, “the nun who will have humbled herself most upon earth shall see God most clearly in heaven.”

¹ “Humilitas est virtus qua homo, verissima sui cognitione, sibi ipsi vilescit.”—De Grad. hum. c. i.

² Interior Castle, dem, 6. ch. 10.

³ “Tanto fit quisque Deo pretiosior, quanto vilior sibi.”—Mor. 1. i8, C. 22.

It is necessary, then, to pray continually in the words of St. Augustine: “May I know myself; may I know Thee, O my God, that thus I may love thee and despise myself.”¹ Make me, O Lord, understand what I am and what Thou art. Thou art the source of every good: I am misery itself. Of myself I have nothing, I know nothing, I can do nothing but evil. It is only the humble that truly honor God. He, says the Holy Ghost, is honored by the humble.² Yes, it is only the humble that can give glory to the Lord, for they alone acknowledge him to be the supreme and only good. If, then, you desire to honor God, keep continually in view all your miseries; confess in the sincerity of your soul, that of yourself you are only nothingness and sinfulness, and that whatsoever you possess belongs to God. And convinced of your own wretchedness, consider yourself deserving only of contempt and punishment; and offer yourself to accept all the chastisements with which God will visit you.

¹ “Noverim te, noverim me.”—Solil. l. 2, c. 1.

² “Ab humilibus honoratur.”—Ecclus. iii. 21.

As a sequence of these principles we give here the following rules:

I. Be careful never to boast of anything. Far different from yours was the conduct of the saints. It is my continual practice to exhort all to read, for their spiritual reading, the lives of the saints. The great labors and exertions of the saints for God’s glory will humble our pride, and make us ashamed of the little we do or have done for him. But how is it possible that we should glory in anything, when we know that all the virtues that we possess are the gifts of God. “Who,” says St. Bernard, “could abstain from laughing, if the clouds boasted of having begotten rain.”³ Whoever glories in any good action deserves to be treated with similar derision. Father M. Avila relates that a certain rich nobleman who had married a peasant, to prevent her from being puffed up with pride at seeing herself attended by servants and dressed in rich apparel, caused the miserable garment which she wore before her marriage to be preserved and to be kept continually before her eyes. You should imitate his example. When you perceive that you have performed a good work or acquired any virtue, look back to your former state; remember what you were, and conclude that all the good that you possess is but an alms from the Almighty. “Whosoever,” says St. Augustine, “reckons up to Thee, O Lord, his own merits, what else does he reckon up but Thy gifts.”¹ Whenever St. Teresa performed a good work, or saw an act of virtue performed by others, she immediately burst out into the praises of God, and referred the whole to him as to its author. Hence the saint justly observes, that it is not incompatible with humility to acknowledge the special graces that God has given more abundantly to us than to others. Such an acknowledgment, continues the saint, is not pride; on the contrary, by making us feel that we are more unworthy, and at the same time more favored, than others, it assists our humility and stimulates our gratitude. The saint adds, that a Christian who does not reflect with gratitude on the sublime graces that he has received, will never resolve to do great things for God.² But in contemplating the gifts that God has bestowed upon us we must always distinguish between what belongs to him and what belongs to us. St. Paul scrupled not to assert that for the glory of the Lord Jesus he had done more than all the other apostles. I have, he says, labored more abundantly than all they.³ But he immediately confessed that his labors were not his own works, but the fruit of the divine grace by which he was assisted: Yet not I, but the grace of God with me.¹

³ “Si glorietur nubes, quod imbres genuerint, quis non irrideat?”—In Cant. s. 13.

¹ “Quisquis tibi enumerat merita sua, quid tibi enumerat, nisi munera tua?”—Conf. l. 9, c. 13.

² Life, ch. 10.

³ “Abundantius illis omnibus laboravi.”—1 Cor. xv. 10.

¹ “Non ego autem, sed gratia Dei mecum.”—1 Cor. xv. 10.

II. Since without the divine aid you can do nothing, be careful never to confide in your own strength; but after the example of St. Philip Neri, endeavor to live in continual and utter distrust of yourself. Like St. Peter, who protested that not even death would induce him to deny his master,² the proud man trusts in his own courage, and therefore yields to temptation. Because he confided in himself, the apostle had no sooner entered the house of the high-priest than he denied Jesus Christ, Be careful never to place confidence in your own resolutions or in your present good dispositions; but put your whole trust in God, saying with St. Paul: I can do all things in him who strengtheneth me.³ If you cast away all self-confidence, and place all your hopes in the Lord, you may then expect to do great things for God. They that hope in the Lord, says the prophet Isaias, shall renew their strength.⁴ Yes, the humble, who trust in the Lord, shall renew their strength; distrusting themselves, they shall lay aside their own weakness and put on the strength of God. Hence, St. Joseph Calasanctius used to say, that “whoever desires to be the instrument of God in great undertakings, should seek to be the lowest of all.” Strive to imitate the conduct of St. Catharine of Sienna, who, when tempted to vainglory, would make an act of humility, and when tempted to despair, would make an act of confidence in God. Enraged at her conduct, the devil began one day to curse her and the person who taught her this mode of resisting his temptations and added, that he “knew not how to attack her.”¹ When, therefore, Satan tells you that you are in no danger of falling, tremble; and reflect that, should God abandon you for a moment, you are lost. When he tempts you to despair, exclaim in the loving words of David: In thee, O Lord, have I hoped: let me never be confounded In Thee, O Lord, I have placed all my hopes; I trust that I shall not be confounded, deprived of Thy grace, and made the slave of hell.

² “Etiamsi oportuerit me mori tecum, non te negabo.”—Matt. xxvi. 35.

³ “Omnia possum in eo qui me confortat.”—Phil. iv. 13.

⁴ “Qui autem sperant in Domino, mutabunt fortitudinem.”—Is. xl. 31.

¹ “In te, Domine, speravi; non confundar in æternum.”—Ps. xxx. 2.

III. Should you be so unfortunate as to commit a fault, take care not to give way to diffidence, but humble your soul; repent, and with a stronger sense of your own weakness, throw yourself into the arms of the Lord. To be angry with ourselves after having committed a fault, is not an act of humility, but of pride, which makes us wonder how we could have fallen into such a defect. Yes, it is pride and a delusion of the devil, who seeks to draw us away from the path of perfection, to cast us into despair of advancing in virtue, and thus precipitate us into more grievous sins. After a fault we should redouble our confidence in God, and thus take occasion from our infidelity to place still greater hopes in his mercy. To them that love God, says St. Paul, all things work together unto good.² “Yes,” adds the Gloss, “even sins.”³ The Lord once said to St. Gertrude: “When a person’s hands are stained he washes them, and they become cleaner than before they were soiled.”⁴ So the soul that commits a fault, being purified by repentance, is made more pleasing in the eyes of God than she was before her transgression. To teach them to distrust themselves, and to confide only in him, God sometimes permits his servants, and particularly those who are not well grounded in humility, to fall into some defect. When, then, dear sister, you commit a fault, endeavor to repair it immediately by an act of love and of sorrow; resolve to amend, and redouble your confidence in God; say with St. Catharine of Genoa: “Lord, this is the fruit of my garden; if Thou dost not protect me I shall be guilty of still more grievous offences; but I purpose to avoid this fault for the future, and with the aid of Thy grace, I hope to keep this resolution.” Should you ever relapse, act always in the same manner, and never abandon the resolution of becoming a saint.

² “Omnia cooperantur in bonum.”—Rom. viii. 28.

³ “Etiam peccata.”

⁴ Insin. l. 3, c. 78.

IV. Should you ever see another commit some grievous sin, take care not to indulge in pride, nor to be surprised at her fall; but pity her misfortune, and trembling for yourself, say with holy David: Unless the Lord had been my helper, my soul had almost dwelt in hell.¹ If the Almighty had not been my protector, I should at this moment be buried in hell. Beware of even taking vain complacency in the exemption from faults that you perceive in your companions; otherwise, in chastisement of your pride the Lord will permit you to fall into the sins which they have committed. Cassian relates² that a certain young monk, being for a long time molested by a violent temptation to impurity, sought advice and consolation from an aged Father. Instead of receiving encouragement and comfort he was loaded with reproaches. “What!” said the old man, “is it possible that a monk should be subject to so abominable thoughts?” In punishment of his pride the Almighty permitted the Father to be assailed by the spirit of impurity to such a degree that he ran like a madman through the monastery. Hearing of his miserable condition, the Abbot Appollo told him that God had permitted this temptation to punish his conduct towards the young monk, and also to teach him compassion for others in similar circumstances. The Apostle tells us that in correcting sinners we should not treat them with contempt, lest God should permit us to be assailed by the temptation to which they yielded, and perhaps to fall into the very sin which we were surprised to see them commit. We should, before we reprove others, consider that we are as miserable and as liable to sin as our fallen brethren. Brethren, if any man be overtaken in a fault... instruct such a one in the spirit of meekness, considering thyself lest thou also be tempted.¹ The same Cassian relates² that a certain abbot called Machete confessed that he himself had miserably fallen into three faults, of which he had rashly judged his brethren.

¹ “Nisi quia Dominus adjuvit me, paulo minus habitasset in inferno anima mea.”—Ps. xciii. 17.

² Collat. 2, c. 13.

¹ “Brothers, even if a man has been overtaken in some fault, . . . instruct such a one in the spirit of gentleness, considering yourself, lest you too be tempted.”—Gal. vi. 1.

² De cœnob. inst. l. 5, c. 30.

V. Consider yourself the greatest sinner on this earth. They who are truly humble, because they are most perfectly enlightened by God, possess the most perfect knowledge, not only of the divine perfections, but also of their own miseries and sins. Hence, notwithstanding their extraordinary sanctity, the saints, not in the language of exaggeration, but in the sincerity of their souls, called themselves the greatest sinners in the world. Thus St. Francis of Assisi called himself the worst of sinners; St. Thomas of Villanova was kept in a state of continual fear and trembling by the thought of the account he was one day to render to God of his life; which, though full of virtue, appeared to him very wicked. St. Gertrude considered it a miracle that the earth did not open under her feet and swallow her up alive, in punishment of her sins. St. Paul, the first hermit, was in the habit of exclaiming: “Woe to me, a sinner, who am unworthy to bear the name of a monk.” In the writings of Father M. Avila we read of a person of great sanctity who besought the Lord to make known to her the state of her soul. Her prayer was heard; and so deformed and abominable was the appearance of her soul, though stained only with the guilt of venial sins, that, struck with horror, she cried out: “For mercy’s sake, O Lord, take away from before my eyes the representation of this monster!”

VI. Beware, then, of ever preferring yourself to any one. To esteem yourself better than others, is abundantly sufficient to make you worse than all. “Others,” says Tritemius, “you have despised; you have therefore become worse than others.”¹ Again to entertain a high opinion of your own deserts, is enough to deprive you of all merit. Humility consists principally in a sincere conviction that we deserve only reproach and chastisement. If, by preferring yourself to others, you have abused the gifts and graces which God has conferred upon you, they will only serve for your greater condemnation at the hour of judgment. But it is not enough to abstain from preferring yourself to any one; it is, moreover, necessary to consider yourself the last and worst of all your sisters in religion. First, because in yourself you see with certainty so many sins; but the sins of others you know not, and their secret virtues, which are hidden from your eyes, may render them very dear in the sight of God. You ought to consider also, that by the aid of the lights and graces which you have received from God you should at this moment be a saint. Ah! had they been given to an infidel, he would perhaps have become a seraph, and you are still so miserable and full of defects. The consideration of your ingratitude, should be sufficient to make you always regard yourself as a fit object of scorn to the whole Community: for, as St. Thomas¹ teaches, the malice of sin increases in proportion to the ingratitude of the sinner. Hence one of your sins may be more grievous in the sight of God than a hundred sins of another less favored than you have been. But you know that you have already committed many sins; that your life has been one continued series of voluntary faults; and that whatever good you may have done is so full of imperfection and of self-love, that it is more deserving of punishment than of remuneration.

¹ “Caeteros contempsisti; caeteris pejor factus es,”

¹ 1. 2, q. 73, a. 10.

VII. All these considerations ought to inspire you with the sentiments of humility which St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi inculcated on her spiritual children, with a continual sense of your unworthiness to kiss the ground on which your sisters walk. You ought to consider that, had you received all imaginable insults, and were you confined in the bottom of hell, under the feet of all the damned, all this would be but little in comparison with what you deserve. And therefore, from the bottomless abyss of your own miseries you should continually cry out, with holy David: Incline unto my aid, O God; O Lord, make haste to help me.² Lord, hasten to my assistance, otherwise I am lost, and shall offend Thee more than ever, and more than all sinners. But this prayer must be repeated continually—almost every moment—in the choir, in the cell, in going through the monastery, at the grate, at table, at rising, and going to sleep. You must cry out: “Assist me, O Lord! assist me: Lord have mercy on me.” At the very moment you cease to invoke the divine aid you may become the most wicked monster in creation. Shun, as death itself, every, even the most trifling, act or thought of pride. I conclude with that great saying of St. Bernard: “In the soul no humiliation, however great, is to be feared; but the least elation is to be regarded with horror.”¹ Yes; for the smallest degree of arrogance may lead us into every evil.

² “Deus, in adjutorium meum intende; Domine, ad adjuvandum me festina.”—-Ps. lxix. I.

¹ “In anima, non est timenda quantalibet humiliatio; horrendum autem minima vel minima erectio.”—In Cant. s. 37.

Prayer.

O God of my soul! I thank Thee for making me feel that whatever the world esteems is all folly. Give me grace to detach my heart from all creatures before death separates me from them. Unhappy me, who have been so many years in Thy house; I have left the world to become a saint, and till now, what progress have I made? Alas! how many disgusting wounds do I see in my soul! My Jesus, have pity on me and heal me. Thou art able and willing to heal me if I consent to a change of life. Yes, Lord, I desire to amend. If the sinner repent, Thou hast promised to forget his wickedness. But if the wicked do penance... I will not remember all his iniquities.² I am sorry, O my God, above all things for having despised Thy love: forget, then, O Lord, all the displeasure I have given Thee. For the future I desire to lose my life sooner than give Thee the smallest offence. My God, I desire to love Thee; if I do not love Thee, whom shall I love? Thou art most worthy of my love: Thou hast called me to religion. Thou hast loaded me with Thy grace. Thou alone, therefore, dost merit all my love; Thee alone do I desire to love.

² “Si autem impius egerit pœnitentiam,... omnium iniquitatum ejus... non recordabor.”—Ezek. xviii. 21.

My Queen and my great advocate, Mary, assist me by Thy intercession, that I may be no longer ungrateful to Thy Son.

Humility of the Heart or of the Will.

Humility of the intellect consists, as we have seen, in esteeming one’s self worthy of reproach and scorn: but humility of the will consists in desiring to be despised by others, and in taking pleasure in contempt. The latter is the most meritorious; because acts of the will are more pleasing to God than acts of the intellect.

Speaking of humility of the will, St. Bernard says: “The first degree is, not to wish for power; the second, to wish to be in a state of subjection to authority; the third is, in subjection to bear injuries with equanimity.”¹ Such is the humility of the heart which Jesus Christ wished to teach us by his own example. Learn of me, said the Redeemer, because I am meek and humble of heart.² Many have humility on their tongue, but not in their heart. “They, indeed,” says St. Gregory, “confess with their lips that they are most wicked and most deserving of all sorts of chastisement; but they believe not what they say. For, when rebuked, they give way to disquietude, and deny that they are guilty of the fault for which they are corrected.” To this class belonged a certain monk, who, as Cassian relates,³ used to say that he was a great sinner, and unworthy to breathe the breath of life. But when the Abbot Serapion corrected him for violating the Rule by idle visits to the cells of the other monks, he became greatly troubled. Seeing him disturbed, the abbot said: “Why, my son, are you so much disquieted? Hitherto you have called yourself a great sinner, and now you cannot bear from me a charitable admonition.” Even in convents we sometimes find similar examples of haughty religious. Certain nuns proclaim that they are the most wicked of sinners, that they deserve a thousand hells. But should the abbess or a sister in religion point out to them any particular fault, or speak of their general tepidity, or of the little edification which they give to the Community, they immediately begin to vindicate their conduct, and in a tone of fretfulness exclaim: What evil or scandal have you seen in my conduct? You would do your duty much better by correcting the others who are guilty of faults that I never commit. A little before they confessed that their sins merited a thousand hells, and now they cannot bear a word of admonition. Such religious possess, indeed, humility in words, but know not the humility recommended by Jesus Christ, which is the humility of the heart.

¹ “The first advance is not to wish to rule; the second, to wish to be subject; the third, in subjection itself, to bear equanimously injuries of any kind that have been inflicted.”—De Divers, s. 60.

² “Discite a me quia mitis sum et humilis corde.”—Matt. xi. 29.

³ Col tat. t8, r. 11.

There is, says the Holy Ghost, one that humbleth himself wickedly, and his interior is full of deceit.¹ There are some who humble themselves, not from desire of being rebuked and despised, but through a motive of being esteemed humble and of being praised for their humility. But, according to St. Bernard,² to seek praise from voluntary humiliations is not humility, but the destruction of humility, for it changes humility itself into an object of pride. Speculative humility, says St. Vincent de Paul, presents a very beautiful aspect; but practical humility, because it is nothing else than the love of abjection and contempt, is an object of horror to flesh and blood. Hence St. John Climacus observes that the proof of true humility consists, not in confessing our own sinfulness, but in rejoicing in the contempt due to sinners. “Self-disparagement,” says the saint, “is good, but to confirm the dispraise which others cast upon us, not to resent it but to delight in it, is still better.”³ “When,” says St. Gregory, “the humble man calls himself a sinner, he does not contradict others who say the same of him.”⁴ No; when reproved for his faults he reasserts his own sinfulness. In a word, as St. Bernard says,¹ “The truly humble man wishes, indeed, to be held in little estimation, but desires not to be praised for his humility.”² Instead of seeking to be esteemed for his humility he wishes to be regarded as a man deserving of contempt and full of imperfections; and because he deems himself worthy only of abjection, he delights in the humiliations which are heaped upon him. Hence, as St. Bernard teaches, “he converts humiliation into humility;”³ and all the humiliations that he receives only serve to render him more humble. St. Joseph Calasanctius used to say that “he who loves God seeks not to be reputed a saint, but to attain sanctity.”

¹ “Est qui nequiter humiliat se, et interiora ejus plena sunt dole.”— Ei chis. xix. 23.

² In Cant. s. 16.

³ Scal. par. gr. 21.

⁴ “Cum se peccatorem dicit, id de se dicenti etiam alteri non contra “—Dicit/or. 1. 22, c. 14.

¹ “Verus humilis vilis vult reputari, non humilis prædicari.”—In Cant. s. 16.

² “Humiliationem convertit in humilitatem.”—In Cant. s. 34.

³ “Laudet te alienus, et non os tuum.”—Prov. xxvii. 2.

If, dear sister, you wish to acquire true humility of heart, you must,—

1. In the first place, shun all self-praise, whether it regards your own actions, talents, virtues; the nobility, wealth, or connections of your family. Let another praise thee, says the wise man, and not thy own mouth? Selfpraise never fails to earn the contempt, but seldom wins the respect of others. What would you say or think of a nun who would extol the respectability of her family, or who would boast of having better claims than her sisters to certain offices? Remember that if you indulge in empty boasting, others will say and think of you what you would say and think of her. In speaking of your own concerns, seek always to humble and never to exalt yourself. Self-dispraise can do you no injury; but the smallest portion of unmerited self-commendation may be productive of great evil. “To extol yourself slightly above your deserts is,” says St. Bernard, “a great evil.”¹ He who in passing through a door bends his head more than is necessary, is free from all danger of injury; but he who carries it too high may be seriously hurt. Be careful, then, to speak of yourself humbly rather than boastingly, and to disclose your faults rather than your virtues. The best rule is, never to speak well or ill of yourself, but to regard yourself as unworthy to be even named in conversation. It frequently happens that in saying what tends to our own confusion we indulge a secret and refined pride. For the confusion arising from the voluntary manifestation of our defects excites within us a desire of obtaining the praise or reputation of being humble. This rule is not to be observed in the tribunal of penance: on the contrary, it will be always useful to make known to the confessor your defects, your evil inclinations; and, generally speaking, even the evil thoughts that pass through your mind. It is also very profitable to manifest, on some occasions, certain circumstances that redound to your shame. On such occasions be careful not to abstain from humbling your own pride. Father Villanova, of the Society of Jesus, was not ashamed to tell the whole Community that his brother was a poor laborer. Father Sacchini, likewise a Jesuit, having in a public place met his father, who was a muleteer, instantly ran to embrace him, and exclaimed: “O behold my father!”

Should it ever happen that you are compelled to listen to your own praise, endeavor to humble yourself, at least interiorly, by casting an eye at the grounds of self-contempt that have been already detailed. To the proud, says St. Gregory,² praise, however undeserved, is delicious; but to the humble, even well-merited commendation is a source of grief and of affliction. And being exalted, says the Royal Prophet, I have been humbled and troubled.¹ Like holy David, the humble man, says St. Gregory, is troubled at hearing his own praises. He sees that he has no claim to the virtues or to the good qualities that are ascribed to him; and he fears that by taking self-complacency in his good works he may lose whatever merit he has acquired before God, and that the Judge may say to him: Thou didst receive good things in thy lifetime:² Whoever takes pleasure in listening to his own praise has already received his reward: he has no claim to any other remuneration. As gold, says the wise man, is tried in the furnace, so a man is tried by the mouth of him that praiseth.³ Yes, a man’s spirit is tried by praise: when the commendation of his virtues excites sentiments, not of pleasure nor of pride, but of shame and confusion, then, indeed, his humility appears. St. Francis Borgia and St. Aloysius were greatly afflicted whenever they heard themselves extolled. When you are praised or treated with respect, humble your soul and tremble lest the honor that you receive should be to you an occasion of sin and of perdition. Consider that the esteem of men may prove your greatest misfortune; by fomenting pride it may contaminate your heart, and thus be the cause of your damnation.

¹ “Grande malum, si, vel modice, plus vero te extollas.”—In Cant. s. 37.

² Mor. l. 22, c. 9; l. 26, c. 30.

¹ “Exaltatus autem, humiliatus sum et conturbatus.”—Ps. lxxxvii. 16.

² “Recepisti bona in vita tua.”—Luke, xvi. 25.

³ “Quomodo probatur... in fornace aurum, sic probatur homo ore laudantis.”—Prov. xxvii. 21.

Keep always before your eyes the great saying of St. Francis of Assisi: “What I am before God, that I am, and no more.” Are you so foolish as to think that the esteem of men will render you more pleasing in the sight of God? When you are gratified and elated by the praises bestowed upon you, and are by them induced to think yourself better than the other religious, you may be assured that, while men extol your virtues, God shall cut you off. Be persuaded, then, that the praises of others will never make you more holy in the sight of God. St. Augustine says that as the reproach or slander of an enemy cannot deprive a man of the merit of his virtues, so the applause of a friend or admirer will not make him better than he really is. “A bad conscience,” says St. Augustine, “is not healed by the praise of a flatterer, nor a good one wounded by the contumely of the reviler.”¹ Whenever, then, you hear your own praises, say in your heart, with St. Augustine: “I know myself better than they do; and God knows me better than I do myself.”² They, indeed, praise me, but I, who see the state of my own soul better than they do, know that these praises are unmerited; God knows it still better than I do; he sees that I deserve neither honor nor respect, but all the contempt of earth and hell.

¹ “Nec malam conscientiam sanat laudantis præconium, nec bonam vulnerat conviciantis opprobrium.”—Contra Petil. 1. 3, c. 7.

² “Melius me ego novi, quam illi; sed melius Deus, quam ego.”—In Ps. xxxvi. s. 3.

II. Secondly, as you ought carefully to refrain from all complacency in the praises that you receive from others, so you must abstain with still greater caution from asking any office of rank or dignity in the convent. “You must,” as St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi says, “avoid with all possible care every exercise that is apt to attract attention, for it is in such exercises that pride delights.” It is necessary to shun, even with horror, every honorable office in the monastery. In the convent of the Most Holy Trinity, in Naples, there was a very exemplary religious called Sister Archangela Sanfelice. The confessor said to her one day: “Sister Archangela, the nuns wish to make you abbess.” At first she appeared afflicted and surprised, but afterwards expressed her readiness to accept the office. After signifying her assent, she was suddenly seized with a fit of apoplexy, which nearly deprived her of life, and obliged the nuns to seek another abbess.

“All worldly honor,” says St. Hilary, “is the business of the devil.”¹ Worldly honors are the means by which Satan gains many souls for hell. And, if the ambition of honors occasions great ruin in a worldling, it is productive of far greater havoc in a religious. “The body of the Church,” says St. Leo, “is defiled by the contention of the ambitious.”² Speaking of nuns, St. Teresa³ says that “where they attend to punctilios of honor, fervor will never flourish.” In another place she says, “The monastery in which points of honor and claims of precedence are attended to, may be considered as lost: from it the Spouse is already banished.” Addressing her own Community, she says: “Should a Judas be ever found among you, expel her at once, as a source of infection; and deprive forever of all hope of success in her projects the nun who attempts to seek superiority over her companions. I would rather see this monastery burnt to the ground than ever see ambition enter into it.” Similar were the sentiments of St. Jane Frances de Chantal. “I would,” says the saint, “sooner see my monastery buried in the sea, than ambition or the desire of office enter it.”

¹ “Omnis s.neculi honor diaboli negotium est.”—In Matth. c. 3, n. 5.

² “Corpus Ecclesia ambientium contagione fœdetur.”—Epist. 1.

³ Way of Perf. ch. 8, 13.

Listen to the wise remarks of Peter de Blois on this subject. In one of his letters⁴ he describes the pestiferous effects of ambition, and its frightful ravages in the souls of Christians. Ambition, he says, though full of uncharitableness, puts on the garb of charity. Charity suffers all things for the attainment of eternal goods: ambition, too, endures every hardship, but only for the acquisition of the miserable honors of this world. Charity is kind, but particularly to the poor and the abject; ambition, too, abounds in benevolence, but only to the rich and powerful, who can gratify its cravings. Charity bears all things to please God: ambition submits to every wrong, but only through the vain motive of obtaining honors or office. O God! to what annoyance, inconvenience, fatigues, fears, expenses, and even reproaches and insults, must the ambitious submit, for the attainment of the dignity to which they aspire! Finally, charity believes and hopes all that regards the glory of eternity; but ambition believes and hopes only what regards the empty honors of this life.

⁴ Epist. 14.

But, in the end, what is the fruit of all the labors of the ambitious? They only attain some empty dignity which contents not the heart, and which renders them, in the eyes of the others, objects of contempt rather than of respect. “By the sole desire of it,” says St. Teresa, “honor is lost: the greater the dignity obtained, the more disgraceful it is to the person who has procured it. For the more he has labored for its attainment, the more he has shown himself unworthy of it.” St. Jane Frances de Chantal said that “they who esteem themselves most deserving of office are the most unworthy of it: because they want humility, which is the best disposition for the fulfilment of an office.” God grant that the dignity which the ambitious procure may not be the cause of their eternal ruin. Father Vincent Carafa, of the Society of Jesus, having once visited a dying friend, to whom an office of great emolument, but at the same time of great danger, had been given, was requested by the sick man to obtain from God the restoration of his health. No, my friend, replied the Father, I shall not abuse my affection for you: desirous of your salvation, God calls you to another life while you are in the state of grace. I know not whether, if restored, to health, you would save your soul in the office which has been offered to you. The sick man peacefully accepted the stroke of death, and expired with sentiments of joy and resignation. “It is scarcely possible,” says St. Bonaventure, “that he who delights in honors should not be in great danger.”¹ To take complacency in any dignity, particularly in the office of abbess, of assistant, mistress of novices, or in any other charge to which are annexed serious obligations, exposes a religious to great danger of perdition. But the condition of the nun who through ambition has procured such an office is still more perilous. For she cannot, without great difficulty, refuse any request to the sisters by whom she was promoted, and thus she will probably be lost. Besides, God is not bound to give her the aid necessary for the discharge of the duties of an office which she has procured by her own exertions. How, then, can she, bereft of the divine assistance, fulfil her obligations? Oh! how many shall we see condemned on the day of judgment for having obtained offices by their own efforts!

¹ “ Vix fieri potest quod, qui delectatur honore, in periculo magno nonsit.”—Med. vite Chr. c. 35.

If, dear sister, you desire to preserve humility, do not allow yourself to be seduced by any desire of worldly glory. What shall I say of the nun who, to make a display of pomp and riches, is guilty of extravagance in the discharge of her office? What shall I say of the nun who, though a poor religious, receives with pleasure worldly titles? Were she truly humble, she would tell all, even the servants of her parents, that such titles are neither agreeable nor suited to her. It is certain that to a nun the title of reverend is more honorable than the appellation of noble; because the former is given to her as the spouse of Jesus, but it is only as a person of rank in the world that she can claim the latter. St. Francis Xavier used to say that to desire respect and honor, or to take complacency in them, is unworthy of a Christian, who should have always before his eyes the ignominies of Jesus Christ. How much more unsuited must such foolish ambition be to a religious, the consecrated spouse of the Redeemer, who lived for so many years in obscurity and contempt? St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say that “the honor of a nun consists in being the lowest of all, and in having a horror of being preferred to any.” To surpass all her sisters in humility and in the love of Jesus should, says St. Thomas of Villanova, be the sole object of the ambition of religious.¹ “Let your ambition be to be the most humble and the most dear to Jesus Christ.” In entering religion you said, with holy David: I have chosen to be an abject in the house of my God, rather than to dwell in the tabernacles of sinners.² Yes, you then publicly declared your determination to prefer abjection in the house of the Lord, before honor and glory in a wicked world. And why should you be now attached to earthly vanities? St. Bonaventure tells you, that if you desire to be a saint, you must endeavor to lead a life of obscurity and contempt. “Love,” says the saint, “to be unknown and despised,”³ so that no attention whatever may be shown to you in the monastery.

¹ “In hoc ad invicem zelate, quenam huic Sponso carior existat, que humilior.”—De Nat. Mar. ad mon. conc. 2.

² “Elegi abjectus esse in domo Dei mei, magis quam habitare in tabernaculis peccatorum “—Ps. Ixxxiii. 11.

³ “Ama nesciri et pro nihilo reputari.”—Alph. relig.

Envy not the religious who surpass you in talent and understanding, or who are more highly esteemed by the Community than you are. Envy those only who are your superiors in charity and humility. Humiliation is preferable to all the applause and honor which the world can bestow. For a nun, the most useful of all sciences is that which teaches her to humble and despise herself, and to delight in being treated with contempt. God has not given you great abilities, because they might lead you to perdition. Be content, then, with the little talent that you have received: let the want of talent be to you an occasion of practising humility, which is the safest, and indeed the only, way to save your soul and to become a saint. If others surpass you in the knowledge of governing, or in the art of acquiring the esteem of the Community, take care to outstrip all in the practice of humility. But, says St. Paul, let each esteem others better than themselves.¹ They who are invested with authority over others are exposed to great danger of being puffed up with pride, of losing the divine light, and of thus becoming like senseless beasts that seek only the miserable goods of the earth, and never think of the glory of eternity. And, says the Psalmist, when he was in honor he did not understand: he is compared to senseless beasts, and is become like to them.²

¹ “Sed in humilitate superiores.”—Phil. ii. 3.

² “Man, when he was in honor, did not understand; he was compared to senseless beasts, and became like them.”—Ps. xlviii. 13.

If you wish to walk in the secure path, shun all posts of honor, and embrace the most abject exercises and offices. A religious who wishes to be a saint should seek only the meanest offices of the convent; and therefore she ought frequently to beg of the Superior, and of them that are in office, to employ her in the occupations that others decline. The spouse of the Canticles presents at one time the character of a solitary, at another of a warrior, and again of the cultivator of the vine; but she always appears full of love. Like her, every religious should perform all her actions through the love of her Spouse, and in all her occupations should appear as a lover of Jesus Christ, and therefore she should not refuse any office or employment. The employments that the world regards as the most contemptible are the most important and exalted in religion, and are most sought after by the saints, because they are most dear to Jesus Christ. Cassian¹ relates that, to shun the respect and veneration shown to him in Egypt, the Abbot Paphnutius fled from that country and betook himself to the monastery of St. Pachomius. Being unknown, he was at first entrusted with the cultivation of the garden, and enjoyed great happiness in his humble employment. As soon as he was recognized, he was removed from so mean a charge. But he wept continually for having lost the treasure that he found in his humiliation.

¹ Inst. 1. 4, c. 30.

Endeavor also to practise humility by the poverty of your furniture and of your garments. The dress of St. Equitius was so humble, that, as St. Gregory relates, they who had not known him would have scorned to salute him. Oh! what a source of edification is poverty of dress! Of the two Macariuses it is related that, in passing the Nile along with certain seculars richly attired, the poverty of their garments made such an impression on one of the seculars, that he abandoned the world and became a monk. To keep the eyes modestly cast down, and to speak in a low tone of voice, helps to preserve humility. But it must be observed that such external acts assist humility of the heart when they are united with it. Without it they would be acts of pride the most abominable—of pride concealed under the garb of humility. “Pride,” says St. Jerome, “is far more deformed when it is hidden under the outward appearance of humility.”²

² “Multo deformior est superbia, que sub humilitatis signis latet.”— Ep. ad Celant.

Prayer.

My Jesus, I am ashamed to appear before Thee. Thou hast loved contempt and opprobrium, so as to die on the cross an object of derision and of scorn; and I cannot bear the smallest affront! Thou, the innocent Lamb of God, hast for my sake been saturated with ignominies, and I, a sinner, am so desirous of praise and honor. Ah! my Spouse, how unlike am I to Thee! This makes me tremble for my eternal salvation; for the predestined must be conformable to Thy image. But I will not distrust Thy mercy. It is from Thee I expect succor and a change of life. With Thy assistance, I purpose henceforward to suffer for the love of Thee all the contempt and all the injuries that shall be offered to me. Ah! Lord, by Thy example, Thou hast rendered ignominies agreeable and delightful to all who love Thee. I love Thee, and desire to do all that I can to please Thee. Pardon me all my sins of pride, of which I now repent with my whole heart; and give me strength to be faithful to the promise that I now make, never more to resent any affront that I may receive.

O Mary, my mother, the model of humility! obtain for me grace to imitate thee as much as possible.

Continuation of the Same Subject, and especially Patience, in bearing Contempt.

III. In the third place, to preserve humility, you must not allow yourself to be disquieted by reproof or correction. The nun who, when rebuked, yields to disquietude, shows that she has not yet acquired humility, and therefore should beg of God that holy virtue, which is so necessary for salvation. Father Rodriguez says that some religious resemble the hedgehog: when touched they become all thorns, and instantly break out into words of impatience, of reproach, and even of murmuring. “We have known many,” says St. Gregory, “who, when no one accuses them, confess themselves sinners; but when they have been corrected for a fault, they endeavor with all their might to defend themselves, and to remove the imputation of guilt.”¹ Such, too, is the practice of certain religious—they ought to attend to the words of the Holy Ghost: He that hateth to be reproved walketh in the trace of a sinner.¹ Whoever is disturbed by correction, walks not in the way of the just, but in the path of sinners—the road to hell.

¹ “We have known many who, when no one accused them, confessed themselves to be sinners; but when they had been corrected for a fault, they sought the protection of a defence, lest they should appear to be sinners.”—Mor. 1. 22, c. 11.

¹ “Qui odit correptionem, vestigium est peccatoris.”—Ecclus. xxi. 7.

St. Bernard² says: Some are displeased with the physician who cures them by reproof, and are not angry with the man who wounds them by flattery. Terrible is the threat of the wise man against all who spurn correction: Because they have despised all my reproof, the prosperity of fools shall destroy them.³ The prosperity of fools consists in the privation or in the contempt of advice, and therefore they are miserably lost. The Venerable Bede gives a frightful account of the fate of two nuns who despised the admonitions of their Superior. Their irregularity became so great that they at length fled from the monastery. When brought back to the convent, they were asked by the abbess, St. Borgontofora, what had led them into such a crime? They answered that it was their inattention to her admonitions. Shortly after their return both were seized with a mortal disease, but could not be induced to confess their sins. Even at the point of death, to those who exhorted them to have recourse to the tribunal of penance they replied, Wait a little—wait; and turning to the religious, they exclaimed: Do you not see the crowd of demons who are come to carry us away? Calling for respite from the demons, they both died miserably without the sacraments.

² “Medicanti irascitur, qui non irascitur sagittanti.”—In Cant. s. 42.

³ “Et quod detraxerint universæ correptioni,... prosperitas stultorum perdet eos.”—Prov. i. 29.

St. John Chrysostom says that the just man when discovered in a fault weeps for his fall. The sinner, too, says the saint, if detected in a criminal act, weeps— not for his transgression, but because his guilt is known; and instead of repenting, he seeks to defend his conduct, and pours out his indignation on the friend who corrects him. Have you, dear sister, hitherto indulged in anger against those from whose charity you have received correction? And if you have, are you disposed to repeat such conduct? “Sister,” says St. Bernard, “give many thanks to him who has rebuked you: be not sad when he shall have shown you the way of salvation.”¹ Is it not most unjust to be displeased with the sister who points out to you the way to eternal life? Could it be done without violating the Rule, you would do well to procure, according to the advice of St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi, a faithful companion who would remark to you all the faults that you do not perceive. You know that you are full of miseries and defects. The only remedy for them is to humble your soul when you perceive them, or when others make them known to you. “Our humility,” says St. Augustine, “is perfection.”² Since our manner of practising the virtues of the Gospel is so full of imperfection, let us at least be perfect in humbling ourselves, and in rejoicing under the confusion occasioned by the reproofs we receive for the faults we have committed. It may be here observed, that to our pride undeserved reproach is more tolerable than well-merited censure, because the latter is more painful to self-love. When justly reproved, be careful to offer to God, in atonement for your transgression, the shame and confusion that you experience. Make use of that confusion as a means of repairing your fault; crush the scorpion on the wound he has inflicted, and be assured that the mercy of the Lord in granting you pardon will be proportioned to your humility in receiving correction.

¹ “Soror, multas age gratias illi qui increpaverit te; non contristeris, cum monstraverit viam salutis.”—De Modo bene viv. c. 18.

² Ipsa est perfectio nostra, humilitas.”—In Ps. cxxx.

When corrected for a fault, be careful never to defend or excuse yourself, and thus you will practise an act of humility highly pleasing to God. St. Teresa says that to a nun such an act is more profitable than to be present at ten sermons. Should you, then, ever receive an unmerited reprimand, abstain, in honor of holy humility, from the vindication of your conduct, unless, to prevent scandal to the Community, such vindication be necessary. To a religious who requested her director—Father Anthony Torres—to excuse her to a certain person who had charged her with a fault, the Father replied: “I am astonished at your request. I pity your weakness. I suppose that the occupations in which you were engaged for the last few days must have soon obliterated from your mind the remembrance of the doleful narrative which you so lately heard of the sorrows of your Spouse, who had been called a seducer. It is impossible that you can have remembered the calumnies and the blasphemies that were uttered against him, and at the same time request me to vindicate your character. Filled with sentiments of shame and confusion, and prostrate before the crucifix, implore of your crucified Spouse the pardon of your infidelity. Resolve neither on this nor on any other occasion to justify or excuse your conduct, but always acknowledge, however galling such acknowledgment may be, that you have erred. For your sake the Saviour died on a cross, saturated with opprobrium; and it is by humiliation that you are to obtain the possession of your Spouse.”

St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi says that to excuse one’s-' self, even under a false accusation, is to cease to be a religious. A truly humble religious not only abstains from excusing her faults, but even seeks to make them known to all. In the “Prodigies of Grace” we read that a certain religious of the reformed Order of La Trappe, as soon as he committed a fault, confessed it—first to the abbot, then to the prior, and afterwards before the whole Chapter. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say that the nun who manifests her faults merits to be washed from them by the blood of Jesus Christ.

IV. Fourthly, if you wish to acquire perfect humility, accept in peace all the contempt and bad treatment that you receive. These are easily borne by all who truly believe that in punishment of their sins they merit nothing but scoffs and insults. Humiliation is the touchstone of sanctity. St. John Chrysostom¹ says that to receive affronts with meekness is the most certain proof of virtue. In his History of Japan, Father Crasset relates that during the last persecution, in consequence of having received an insult without resenting it, a certain Augustinian missionary, though disguised, was instantly taken for a Christian, and cast into prison by the idolaters, who asserted that no one but a Christian could practise such a virtue.

¹ In Gen. hom. 34.

Some, says St. Francis of Assisi, imagine that sanctity consists in the recital of many prayers or in the performance of works of penance; but, not understanding the great merit of patience under insult, they cannot bear an injurious word. You will acquire more merit by meekly receiving an affront than by fasting ten days on bread and water. It will sometimes happen that a privilege that is refused to you will be conceded to others; that what you say will be treated with contempt, while the words of others are heard with respectful attention; that while the actions of others are the theme of general praise, and they are elected to the offices of honor, you are passed by unnoticed, and your whole conduct is made a subject of derision. If you accept in peace all these humiliations, and if, with a sisterly affection you recommend to God those from whom you receive the least respect, then indeed, as St. Dorotheus says, it will be manifest that you are truly humble. To them you are particularly indebted, since by their reproaches they cure your pride—the most malignant of all diseases that lead to spiritual death. Because they deem themselves worthy of all honors, the proud convert their humiliations into an occasion of pride. But because the humble consider themselves deserving only of opprobrium, their humiliations serve to increase their humility. “That man,” says St. Bernard, “is truly humble who converts humiliation into humility.”¹

¹ “Est humilis, qui humiliationem convertit in humilitatem.”—In Cant. s. 34.

Voluntary humiliations, such as to serve the sick, to kiss the feet of those who imagine, even unjustly, that we have offended them, and similar acts of humility, are very profitable; but to embrace with cheerfulness, for the love of Jesus Christ, the humiliations that come from others, such as reproofs, accusations, insults, and derisions, is still more meritorious. Gold and silver, says the Holy Ghost, are tried in the fire, but acceptable men in the furnace of humiliation.² As gold is tried in the fire, so a man’s perfection is proved by humiliation. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say that “untried virtue is not virtue.” He who does not suffer contempt with a tranquil mind shall never attain the spirit of perfection. My spikenard, says the Spouse, sent forth the odor thereof.³ The spikenard is an odoriferous plant, whose scent is drawn forth only by friction and trituration. Oh! what an odor of sweetness does the humble religious exhale when she embraces in peace all manner of contempt, and delights in seeing herself maltreated and despised, as the most contemptible among her sisters. A monk of the name of Zachary, being asked the best means of attaining humility, took his cowl, put it under his feet, and, trampling on it, said: “He who takes pleasure in being treated like this cowl is truly humble.” Ah! how happy the death of the religious who has lived in abjection in her monastery, and has always borne her humiliations in peace. Her soul shall overflow with feelings, not of dislike, but of thanksgiving, to all who have despised her. St. John Climacus relates¹ that a good monk called Abacyrus, who had for fifteen years been treated contemptuously by others, at the hour of death returned them many thanks for their charity in having afforded him so many occasions of humiliation, and thus expired in celestial peace.

² “In igne probatur aurum, . . . homines vero receptibiles in camino humiliationis.”—Ecclus. ii. 5.

³ “Nardus mea dedit odorem suum.”—Cant. i. 11.

¹ Scal. par. gr. 4.

There are some who imagine that they are humble because they feel a strong conviction of their own miseries and a deep sorrow for their past sins. But they will not submit to humiliations, and cannot endure the slightest want of respect or esteem; and therefore they shun all humble offices, and whatever is not flattering to their pride. They acknowledge that they are worthy of all sorts of ignominy, but cannot bear any mark of inattention; on the contrary, they seek continually to be treated with respect and honor. There is, says the Holy Ghost, one that humbleth himself wickedly, and his interior is full of deceit.² There are some who practise external humility, by confessing that they are the worst of sinners, but in their hearts they seek after honors and the esteem of men. I hope, dear sister, that you do not belong to that class of Christians. If you sincerely believe that you are a greater sinner than any of your sisters, be content to be treated as the lowest among them: love as your best friends all who, by despising you, assist you to practise humility and to detach your heart from earthly glory, and thus to unite your soul more closely to God, and to seek nothing in this life but his holy love.

² “Est qui nequiter humiliat se, et interiora ejus plena sunt dolo.”—Ecclus. xix. 23.

Consider yourself as only worthy of universal horror; offer yourself to God, professing your readiness to suffer for his sake, and in satisfaction for your offences, all manner of opprobrium, and never permit self-love to complain of the contempt with which you are treated. Remember that they who have dared to despise the Almighty merit far greater contempt; they deserve to be the footstool of the devils for all eternity in hell. “I know no remedy,” says St. Bernard, “better able to heal the wounds of my conscience than opprobrium and contumely.”¹ Rejoice, then, blessed spouse of the Lord, when you are humbled, and treated as the last of your sisters; or when you see yourself an object of derision, and regarded by all as the most foolish and contemptible member of the Community. When censured, even without grounds, neither excuse yourself nor seek to be excused by others, unless, as I have already said, you see that your justification is absolutely necessary to prevent scandal. Do not hinder others to disclose your faults to the Superior. When you receive any humiliation, seek not to know the sister who was the occasion of it; and should you discover her name, be careful not to reprove her, not to show that you know it, nor to complain of her conduct: on the contrary, in your prayers for others, pray, in the first place, for her, and for all by whom you have been despised or persecuted.

¹ “Ego plagis conscientiæ nullum judico accommodatius medicamentum probris et contumeliis.”—Epist. 280.

Be persuaded of the truth of what Father Alvarez used to say, that the time of humiliation is the time for putting off our own miseries and for acquiring great merits. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say that crosses and ignominies are the greatest favors that God is accustomed to bestow on his beloved spouses. In conversing with those who are despised she experienced great consolation from the conviction that they were most dear to Jesus Christ. Hence she fervently exhorted the religious to place all their happiness in being treated with contempt. But, above all, it is necessary to keep before your eyes what the Redeemer has said, that happy is he who is hated and cast out by men. Blessed shall you be when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you, and shall reproach you, and cast out your name as evil for the Son of Man’s sake.¹ The apostle St. Peter adds: If you be reproached for the name of Christ, you shall be blessed: for that which is of the honor, glory, and power of God, and that which is his Spirit, resteth upon you.² When you are insulted for the sake of Jesus Christ, then shall you be happy; for then shall the true honor, the true power, and the true Spirit of God rest upon you.

¹ “Blessed will you be when men hate you, and when they separate you, and reproach you, and cast out your name as evil, on account of the Son of Man.”—Luke, vi. 22.

² “If you are reproached in the name of Christ, you will be blessed; because that which is of the honor, glory, and power of God, and which is his Spirit, rests upon you.”—1 Pet. iv. 14.

The saints have not been made saints by applause and honor, but by injuries and insults. St. Ignatius Martyr, a bishop, and an object of universal esteem and veneration, was sent to Rome as a criminal, and on his way experienced from the soldiers who conducted him nothing but the most barbarous insolence. In the midst of his suffering and humiliations he joyfully exclaimed: “I now begin to be a disciple of Christ.”³ I now begin to be a true disciple of my Jesus, who endured so many ignominies for my sake. St. Francis Borgia, when travelling, slept one night in the same room with his companion

³ “Nunc incipio esse Christi discipulus.”—Epist. ad Rom.

Father Bustamente, who, in consequence of a severe attack of asthma, spent the whole night in coughing and casting out phlegm unconsciously on the saint, and frequently in his face. In the morning Father Bustamente perceived his mistake, and was greatly afflicted at having given so much cause of pain to the saint. Father, said St. Francis, be not disturbed; for there is no part of this room so fit for the reception of spittle as my face.

O God! what must become of the religious who will not submit to an insult for the love of Jesus Christ! The nun who cannot bear contempt shows that she has lost sight of Jesus crucified. Standing once before the crucifix, Blessed Mary of the Incarnation said to her sisters in religion: Is it possible, dear sisters, that we refuse to embrace contempt when we see Jesus Christ reviled and scoffed? A certain holy religious having been affronted, went before the Blessed Sacrament, and said: Lord, I am very poor; I have nothing to present to you: but I offer you the injury that I have just received. Oh! how lovingly does Jesus Christ embrace all that embrace contempt for his sake! He soon consoles and enriches them with his graces. Father Anthony Torres was once unjustly charged with disseminating false doctrines, and in punishment of his supposed transgression was for many years deprived of faculties to hear confessions. But in a letter to a certain friend he says: “Be assured that during the whole time I was calumniated the spiritual consolations that the Lord gave me surpassed any I ever received from him.”

To suffer contempt with a serene countenance not only merits a great reward, but also serves to draw others to God. “He,” says St. John Chrysostom, “who is meek is useful to himself and to others.”¹ The man who meekly bears affronts is useful to himself and to all who behold him. For nothing is more edifying to a neighbor than the meekness of a man who receives injuries with a tranquil countenance. “Nothing,” adds the saint, “conciliates friends to the Lord so much as to see a man agreeable by his meekness.”¹ Father Maffei relates that a Jesuit, while preaching in Japan, having been spit upon by an insolent bystander, removed the spittle with his handkerchief, and continued his sermon as if nothing had happened. One of his auditors exclaimed, that a doctrine that teaches such humility must be true and divine, and was instantly converted to the faith. Thus, also, St. Francis de Sales converted innumerable heretics by his meekness in bearing the insults that he received from them.

¹ “Mansuetus, utilis sibi et aliis.”—/;; Act. hom. 6.

¹ “Nihil ita conciliat domino familiares, ut quod illum vident mansuetudine jucundum.”—S. de Mans tut.

A religious who lives in a monastery of relaxed observance, and who wishes to walk in the way of perfection, may be assured that during her whole life she shall be an object of continual derision and persecution. There is no remedy: The wicked, says the Holy Ghost, loathe them that are in the right way.² They who walk in the broad road cannot but feel an abhorrence of them that tread in the narrow way. For the lives of the saints are a continual reproach to sinners who wish to see all like themselves. Shunning the grates, assisting in choir, observance of silence, detachment from particular friendships, and almost every good work of a fervent religious will be regarded by the tepid as singularities, or perhaps, as hypocritical acts, performed from a motive of acquiring the reputation of a saint. Should a fervent nun in a convent of relaxed discipline commit a fault (for she has not ceased to be frail, and subject to defects),— should she, for example, yield to a word of slight impatience, or sometimes defend herself against an unjust accusation,—oh, what an outcry is raised against her! Behold the saint! the tepid exclaim. To impose upon others she communicates every morning, she always observes silence, she wears hair-cloth, and remains all day in the choir. They sometimes add falsehood to truth. If she wishes to be a saint, she must be careful to suffer, and to offer to God all these reproaches. Unless she submit to them she will not continue long in the way of perfection; she will soon lose all that she has acquired, and will become as imperfect as the others. In speaking once of a certain religious who was esteemed a saint, St. Bernard said: He indeed is a saint, but he wants the greatest of all blessings—the reputation of a sinner.

² “Abominantur impii eos qui in recta sunt via.”—Prov. xxix. 27.

Let us then be persuaded that to be persecuted in this life confers the highest excellence on the saints. And, says the Apostle, all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.¹ The Redeemer says, If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you.²

¹ “Omnes qui pie volunt vivere in Christo Jesu, persecutionem patientur.”—2 Tim. iii. 12.

² “Si me persecuti sunt, et vos persequentur.”—John, xv. 20.

Some will say: I attend only to my own concerns, I give offence to no one: why should I be persecuted? But all the saints have been persecuted; Jesus Christ, the head of the saints, has been persecuted: and will you not submit to persecution? But what greater favor, says St. Teresa,¹¹ can God bestow upon us than to send us the treatment that he wished his beloved Son to suffer on earth?³ “Believe me,” says Father Torres, in a letter to one of his penitents, “that one of the greatest graces that God can confer upon you is to make you worthy to be calumniated by all, without being esteemed by any.” When, then, dear sister, you see yourself disregarded and despised by all men, rejoice, and thank your Spouse, who wishes you to be treated in the same manner in which he himself wished to be treated in this life. And to prepare your soul to accept humiliations when they occur, represent to yourself in the time of meditation all the contempt, contradictions, and persecutions which may happen to you, and offer yourself, with a strong desire and resolution to suffer them all for the sake of Jesus Christ, and thus you shall be better prepared to accept them.

³ Interior Castle, d. 7, ch. 4.

V. In the fifth place, you must not only accept humiliations in peace, but must also be glad and exult under them. “A good religious,” says St. Joseph Calasanctius, “despises the world and rejoices in its scoffs.” The Venerable Louis de Ponte could not at first conceive how a soul could delight in contempt; but when he became more perfect he experienced the consolations of abjection. By our own strength we certainly cannot rejoice in humiliations, but by the aid of Jesus Christ we can imitate the apostles, who went from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were accounted worthy to suffer reproach for the name of Jesus. There are some, as St. Joseph Calasanctius says, who suffer reproach, but not with joy. To teach the perfect spirit of humility to St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi, St. Ignatius came down from heaven and assured her that true humility consists in taking pleasure in whatever inspires self-contempt.

Worldlings do not delight as much in honors as the saints do in contempt. Brother Juniper, of the Order of St. Francis, received insults as he would the most costly gems. When derided by his companions, St. John Francis Regis was not only pleased by their ridicule, but even encouraged it. Thus from the lives of the saints it would appear that sufferings and humiliations were the sole objects of their wishes. With a cross on his¹ shoulder and a crown of thorns on his head the Redeemer once appeared to St. John of the Cross and said: “John, ask of me what thou wilt.” “Lord, replied the saint, “I desire to suffer and to be despised for Thy sake.” As if he said: Lord, seeing you oppressed with sorrow and saturated with opprobrium for the love of me, what can I ask from you but pains and ignominies? The Lord once assured Blessed Angela of Foligno that the surest means by which a soul can ascertain whether its lights are from God is to examine if they have inspired and left behind a strong desire of being despised for his sake. Jesus wishes that under injuries and persecutions we not only be not disquieted, but that we even rejoice and exult in expectation of the great glory that he has prepared for us in heaven as the reward of our sufferings. Blessed are ye when they shall revile and persecute you;... be glad and rejoice, for your reward is very great in heaven.¹

¹ “Ibant gaudentes a conspectu concilii, quoniam digni habiti sunt pro nomine Jesu contumeliam pati.”—Acts, v. 41.

¹ “Blessed are you, when they have cursed you and persecuted you; . . . rejoice and exult, because your reward is abundant in heaven.”—Matt. v. 11, 12.

To those who are about to enter religion it is my custom to recommend, above all things, the practice of obedience, and of patience under contempt. I have been anxious to treat the latter at full length. Because I am convinced that without bearing contempt it is impossible for a nun to advance in perfection; and because I hold as certain that the religious who cheerfully embraces humiliations shall become a saint. “A soul humble of heart,” says St. Paulinus, “is the heart of Christ.”² The nun who is humble of heart or who delights in contempt is transformed into the heart of Jesus Christ. Be assured, then, dear sister, that if you are to be a saint you must suffer humiliations and contempt. Though all your companions were saints, you would notwithstanding, by God’s ordinance, meet with frequent contradictions; you will be put below others, held in little esteem, and will frequently have to submit to accusations and reproofs. To render you like himself, Jesus Christ will easily find the means of making you an object of contempt. Hence I entreat you to practise every day the beautiful advice of Father Torres given to his penitents: “Say every day an Our Father and a Hail Mary, in honor of the life of ignominy of Jesus; and offer yourself to suffer not only in peace but even with joy for the love of him all the contradictions and reproaches that he will send you; begging always his assistance to be faithful to him in bearing patiently all injuries and humiliations.”

² “Humilis corde cor Christi est.”—Ep. ad Sever.

Prayer.

My Jesus, my love, how is it possible that, seeing Thee, my God, humbled unto death, and even the ignominious death of the cross, I should be so proud? Ah! through the merits of Thy ignominies make me know my miseries and deformities that I may abhor myself; and suffer in peace for the love of Thee all the injuries that I shall receive. Ah! my Redeemer, Thou hast rendered ignominies amiable to all who love Thee. Grant that I may understand Thy goodness and Thy love, that thus to please Thee I may love and embrace all manner of contempt. Grant that I may banish from my heart all human respect, and that in all my actions I may seek only Thy will and pleasure. I love Thee, O my humbled Jesus; and I purpose with Thy grace not to resent any injuries, nor to complain of any affront that may be offered to me. From Thee I hope for strength to fulfil this resolution.

Mary, my mother, assist me by thy intercession; pray to Jesus for me.