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Abandonment; or, Absolute Surrender to Divine Providence cover

Abandonment; or, Absolute Surrender to Divine Providence

Chapter 6: CHAPTER I.
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The work outlines a practical theology of absolute surrender to divine providence, establishing three core principles: God's eternal knowledge and permissive will, the alignment of divine permission with his ultimate ends, and the inseparability of human sanctification from divine glory. It distinguishes events beyond human control from those caused by others, prescribing complete, loving acceptance for the former and a measured response for the latter that rejects resentment, seeks spiritual profit, and cooperates with duty. Emphasis falls on active responsibility followed by confident abandonment, the sanctifying value of real and imagined trials, and caution against misreadings that justify passivity.

Book First.
The Nature and Excellence of the Virtue of Holy Abandonment.

CHAPTER I.

The Sanctity of the Righteous of the Old Law, and of Joseph and of Mary herself, consisted in Fidelity to the Order of God.

God speaks to-day as He spoke to our fathers, when directors were not so numerous, nor methods of direction so well defined. All their spirituality consisted in simple fidelity to the order of God; but it was not reduced to a science which explained it so sublimely or minutely, or contained so many precepts, so many maxims, so much instruction. Our present wants, no doubt, require this explanation. It was not so in the first ages of the Church, when men were more simple and upright. Each moment brought a duty to be faithfully fulfilled: this was sufficient for interior souls of that day. Their whole attention was concentrated simply upon the duty of each successive moment with the fidelity of the hour-hand of a clock which steadily traverses stroke by stroke the circle in which it is appointed to move. The mind, unceasingly moved by divine grace, turned insensibly to the new duty which presented itself in the order of God every hour. Such were the hidden springs of Mary’s life, the most perfect example of simple and absolute self-abandonment to the will of God. The simple words, Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum, with which she was content to answer the angel, expressed all the mystic theology of the ancients. Then, as now, it was all reduced to the simplest and most absolute abandonment of the soul to the will of God under whatever form it manifested itself. This noble and exalted disposition, the basis of all Mary’s spirituality, is brilliantly manifested in the words Fiat mihi. Observe how perfectly they accord with those which our Lord would have ever on our lips and in our hearts: Fiat voluntas tua. True, the duty required of Mary at that supreme moment was a glorious one for her. But all the splendor of that glory would have made no impression upon her if the divine will, alone capable of influencing her, had not arrested her attention. It was this divine will which guided her in everything. Her occupations, whether ordinary or exalted, were in her eyes but shadows more or less obscure in which she found equal means of glorifying God and recognizing the workings of the Almighty. She joyfully accepted the duty or suffering of each moment as a gift from Him who fills with good things the hearts which are nourished by Him alone, and not by appearances or created things.


CHAPTER II.

The Duties of each Moment are the Shadows which veil the Divine Action.

The power of the Most High shall overshadow thee,” said the angel to Mary.

This shadow, behind which the power of God effects the entrance and growth of Jesus Christ in our souls, is the form assumed by the duties, attractions, and crosses of each moment.

They are in truth but shadows like those to which we give the name in the order of nature, and which envelop sensible objects and hide them from our view. Thus in the moral and supernatural order the duties of each moment under their obscure appearances conceal the truth of the divine will, which alone merits our attention. Thus Mary regarded them. Therefore these shadows passing before her senses, so far from deceiving her, filled her with faith in Him who is always the same. Withdraw, Archangel; thy moment passes; thou vanishest. Mary passes beyond thee; she is ever in advance; but the Holy Ghost, with whom she has been filled through the sensible appearances of thy mission, will never abandon her.

There are few extraordinary events in the exterior life of Mary. At least it is not to these that Holy Scripture calls our attention. Her exterior life is represented as very simple, very ordinary. She did and suffered as did others of her condition. She goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth: the other relatives go also. She retires to a stable: it is a consequence of her poverty. She returns to Nazareth: the persecution of Herod had driven her forth. Jesus and Joseph lived there with her, by the labor of their hands. Behold the daily bread of the holy family! But with what bread was the faith of Mary and Joseph nourished? What was the sacrament of all their sacred moments? What did they discover under the ordinary appearance of the events which filled their lives? Exteriorly, nothing more than was happening to the rest of mankind; interiorly, faith discovers and develops nothing less than God working great things. O bread of angels! Heavenly manna! Pearl of the Gospel! Sacrament of the present moment! Thou givest God under appearances as poor and mean as the manger, the hay, and the straw! But to whom dost thou give Him? Esurientes reples bonis. God reveals Himself to the humble in little things; and the proud, regarding only the exterior, find Him not even in great things.


CHAPTER III.

How much Easier Sanctity becomes when studied from this Point of View.

If the work of our salvation offers obstacles apparently so insurmountable, it is because we have not a just idea of it. In truth, sanctity consists in but one thing—fidelity to the order of God; and this fidelity is equally within the reach of all, whether in its active or in its passive part.

The active part of fidelity consists in fulfilling the duties imposed upon us either by the general commands of God and the Church, or by the particular state we have embraced.

Its passive part consists in lovingly accepting all that God sends us each moment.

Which of these two parts of sanctity is above our strength? Not the active part, since the duties it enjoins cease to be duties for us the moment our strength is really unequal to them. Will not the state of your health permit you to hear Mass? You are no longer obliged to do so. And so it is with all positive obligations which prescribe duties to be fulfilled. Only those precepts which forbid things evil in themselves admit of no exception, for it is never permitted to do evil.

Is there anything easier or more reasonable? What excuse can be urged against it? Yet this is all the co-operation God requires of the soul in the work of its sanctification.

He requires it of great and small, of strong and weak; in a word, of all, at all times, in all places.

Therefore He only requires of us what is easy, since to attain eminent sanctity requires but a simple good-will.

If over and above the commandments He shows us the counsels as the more perfect end of our efforts, He is ever careful to accommodate their observance to our position and character. As the chief mark of our vocation for the counsels He sends us the attractions and graces which facilitate the practice of them. He urges no one but in proportion to his strength and according to his attainments. Again I ask, what could be more just?

O you who aspire to perfection and are tempted to discouragement by what you read in the lives of the saints and find prescribed in certain pious books! O you who are overwhelmed by the terrible ideas that you form of perfection! It is for your consolation that God permits that I write this.

Learn what you seem not to know.

In the order of nature, necessary things, as air, water, earth, the God of all goodness has made common and easy of attainment. Nothing is more necessary than breath, sleep, food, and nothing is more common. Love and fidelity are no less necessary in the spiritual order; therefore the difficulty of acquiring them cannot be as great as you represent it to yourselves.

Observe your life; of what does it consist? Of a multitude of unimportant actions. Yet with these same unimportant actions God deigns to be content. This is the co-operation required of the soul in the work of its perfection. God Himself expresses it too clearly to admit of doubt: “Fear God, and keep His commandments: for this is all man” (Eccles. xii. 13). That is to say, this is all that is required on man’s part; in this consists his active fidelity. Let him fulfil his part; God will do the rest. Grace, working by itself, effects marvels which surpass the intelligence of man. For ear has not heard, eye has not seen, heart has not felt, what God conceives in His mind, resolves in His will, executes by His power in souls wholly abandoned to Him.

The passive part of sanctity is still easier, since it consists in accepting what very often we cannot avoid, and bearing with love, that is, with consolation and sweetness, what we too frequently endure with weariness and irritation. Again let me repeat, herein lies all sanctity. It is the grain of mustard-seed the fruits of which we do not gather, because we fail to recognize it in its littleness. It is the drachma of the Gospel, the treasure which we do not find, do not seek, because we imagine it too far beyond us.

Ask me not the secret of finding this treasure, for secret there is none. This treasure is everywhere; it is offered to all, at all times, in all places.

Through creatures, friends, and enemies it flows plentifully; it flows over the faculties of our bodies, of our souls, and into the very centre of our hearts. Let us but open our mouths and they will be filled. The divine action floods the universe; it penetrates all creatures; it floats above them, about them; it is ever present with them; it precedes them; it accompanies them; it follows them, and they have but to allow themselves to be borne onward on its tide.

Would to God kings and their ministers, princes of the Church and of the world, priests, soldiers, peasants, laborers, in a word, all men, knew how easily they can attain eminent sanctity! They have but to fulfil the simple duties of religion and their state in life, and bear with submission the crosses these duties bring, and accept with faith and love the work and suffering which unsought and unceasingly come to them through the order of Providence. This is the spirituality which sanctified the patriarchs and prophets before there were so many methods and so many masters in the spiritual life.1

1 It would be a gross misapprehension of the author’s words to suppose that he wishes to urge souls to enter the paths of the spiritual life without a director. He himself expressly states elsewhere that to be able to do without a director, one must have been long and skilfully directed. Still less does he wish to discourage the practices adopted by the Church for the extirpation of vice and the acquisition of virtue. What he desires to say, and what we cannot impress too much upon Christians, is that the first of all directions is the guidance of Providence, and that the most necessary and the most perfect of all practices is the faithful accomplishment and loving acceptance of all that this fatherly Providence sends us to do and suffer.

This is the spirituality of all ages and of all states, which cannot be more surely sanctified, or in a manner more noble, more extraordinary, more easy, than by the simple use of that which God, the Sovereign Director of souls, gives them each moment to do or suffer.


CHAPTER IV.

Perfection does not consist in knowing the Order of God, but in submitting to it.

The order of God, the good pleasure of God, the will of God, the action of God, the grace of God, all these are one and the same thing in this life. It is God laboring to render the soul like unto Him. Perfection is nothing but the soul’s faithful co-operation in this labor of God. This work is silently effected in our souls, where it thrives, increases, and is consummated unconsciously to ourselves.

Theology is full of conceptions and expressions which explain the wonders of this work effected in individual souls according to their capacity.

We may know all the theory of this work, admirably write and speak thereon, and instruct and direct souls; but if our knowledge be only theoretical, then I say that in comparison with souls which live and act by the order of God and are guided by His divine will, though ignorant of the theory of its operations or its different effects, and unable to speak thereof, we are like a sick physician compared to ordinary persons in perfect health.

The order of God, His divine will, received with simplicity by a faithful soul, effects this divine work in her unconsciously to herself, just as a remedy submissively taken restores the health of a sick man, although he have not, and need not have, any knowledge of medicine.

It is the fire which warms us, and not the philosophical knowledge of the element and its effects; so it is the order of God, His divine will, and not the curious speculation on its principles and its methods, which produces the sanctification of our souls.

If we thirst, we must drink; theoretical explanations will not quench our thirst. Curiosity for knowledge only makes us thirst still more. Therefore, if we thirst for sanctification, curious speculations only keep us farther from it. We must abandon all theories and drink in simplicity of all that the will of God sends us of work and suffering.

That which comes to us each moment by the order of God is best and holiest and most divine for us.


CHAPTER V.

Reading and other Exercises only sanctify us in so far as they are the Channels of the Divine Action.

All our science consists in recognizing God’s will in regard to the present moment. All reading pursued in any other spirit than that of submission to the order of God is injurious. The will of God, the order of God, is the grace which works in the depths of our hearts by means of our readings and by all our other works. Without it our readings are but shadows, vain appearances, which, coming to us devoid of the vivifying virtue of the order of God, serve only to empty the heart by the very plenitude they cause in the mind.

The virtue of this divine will flowing into the soul of a simple, ignorant girl by means of suffering or ordinary actions, effects in the depths of her heart this mysterious work of the supernatural Being without filling her mind with any idea likely to awaken pride; while the proud man who studies spiritual books only through curiosity, and does not unite his reading to the will of God, receives into his mind the letter without the spirit, and becomes colder and more hardened than ever.

The order of God, His divine will, is the life of the soul under whatever appearances the soul receives it or applies it to herself.

Whatever may be the relation of the divine will to the mind, it nourishes the soul, and unceasingly strengthens her growth by giving her each moment what is best for her. Nor is one thing more efficacious than another in producing these happy effects; no, it is simply the duty of the present moment which comes to us by the order of God. That which was best for us in the past moment is no longer best for us, for it is stripped of the will of God, which has passed on to other things from which it creates for us the duty of the present moment; and it is this duty, under whatever appearance it is manifested, which will now most perfectly sanctify our souls.

If the divine will make reading the duty of the present moment, the reading will effect His mysterious work in the depths of the soul. If, in obedience to the divine will, we leave the reading for the duty of contemplation, this duty will create the new man in the depths of the heart, and reading would then be injurious and useless. If the divine will withdraw us from contemplation to hear confessions or to other duties, and that during a considerable time, these duties form Jesus Christ in the depths of the heart, and all the sweetness of contemplation would only serve to banish Him.

The order of God is the fulness of all our moments. It flows under a thousand different appearances which, successively becoming our present duty, form, increase, and complete the new man in us, in all the fulness which the divine wisdom has destined for us. This mysterious growth of Jesus Christ in us is the work produced by the order of God; it is the fruit of His grace and of His divine will.

This fruit, as we have said, is germinated, increased, and nourished by the succession of our present duties filled with the virtue of this same divine will.

In fulfilling these duties we are always sure of possessing the “better part,” for this holy will is itself the better part. We have but to yield to it, blindly abandon ourselves to it with perfect confidence. It is infinitely holy, infinitely wise, infinitely powerful, for souls which unreservedly hope in it, which love and seek but it alone, and which believe with unfaltering faith that what it assigns to each moment is best without seeking elsewhere for more or less, and without pausing to consider the relation of material things with the order of God, which is the seeking of pure self-love.

The will of God is the essential, the reality and virtue, of all things; it is that which adapts and renders them suitable to the soul.

Without it all is emptiness, nothingness, falsehood, the empty husk, the letter without the spirit, vanity, death.

The will of God is the health, the life, the salvation of soul and body, whatever its manifestation or ways of reaching us.

Therefore we must not judge of the virtue of things by the relations they bear to mind or body, for these relations are unimportant. It is the will of God alone which gives to all things, whatever they may be, the power to form Jesus Christ in the depth of our hearts. We must frame no laws for this will and place no limit to its action, for it is all-powerful.

Whatever the ideas which fill the mind, whatever the feelings which the body experiences, were it for the mind but distractions and trouble, for the body but sickness and death, the divine will nevertheless is ever for the present moment the life of body and soul; for both one and the other, whatever their condition, are sustained by it alone. Bread without it is poison; and through it poison becomes a salutary remedy. Without it, books but confuse and trouble us; with it, darkness is turned into light. It is the wisdom, the truth, of all things. In all things it gives us God: and God is the infinite Being who holds the place of all things to the soul which possesses Him.


CHAPTER VI.

The Mind and other Human Means are Useful only in as far as they are the Instruments of the Divine Action.

The mind with all its powers would hold the first place among the instruments of the divine will; but it must, like a dangerous slave, be reduced to the last.

The simple of heart who know how to use it can derive great profit therefrom; but it can also do much injury when not kept in subjection.

When the soul sighs after created means, the divine action whispers to the heart that it sufficeth; when she would injudiciously reject them, the divine action whispers that they are instruments not to be taken or rejected at will, but to be simply received from Providence and adapted to the order of God—the soul thus using all things as though not using them, being deprived of all things, yet wanting nothing.

The divine action, being limitless in its fulness, can take possession of a soul only in as far as the soul is void of all confidence in her own action; for this confidence and self-activity fill the heart to the exclusion of the divine action. It is an obstacle which, existing in the soul herself, is more likely to arrest the divine action than exterior obstacles, which Providence can change at will into powerful aids; for it can work with all things, even those which are in themselves useless. With the divine will nothing is everything, and without it everything is nothing.

Whatever the value in itself of meditation, contemplation, vocal prayer, interior silence, acts of the will whether sensible, distinct, or less perceptible, retreat, or active life,—better than all of them is what God wills for the soul at the present moment; and the soul should regard everything else with perfect indifference, as being of no value whatever.

Thus seeing God alone in all things, she should take or leave them at His pleasure in order to live in, hope in, and be nourished by Him, and not by the things which have force and virtue only through Him. Under all circumstances the soul should constantly say with St. Paul, “Lord, what wouldst Thou have me do?” Not this more than that, but simply Thy adorable will! The spirit loves one thing, the flesh another; but, Lord, let Thy will be mine. Contemplation, action, prayer vocal or mental, affective or passive, light or darkness, special or general graces,—all these are nothing, Lord, for in Thy will lies their sole virtue. Thy will alone is the end of all my devotion, and not these things, however elevated or sublime in themselves; for the end of divine grace is the perfection of the heart, not of the mind.

The presence of God which sanctifies our souls is that indwelling of the Trinity which penetrates to the depths of our hearts when they are submissive to the divine will; for the presence of God which we enjoy through the exercise of contemplation effects this intimate union in us only as do all other things which come to us in the order of God. It holds, however, the first rank among them, for it is the most excellent means of uniting one’s self with God when He wills that we should use it.

We may therefore justly esteem and love contemplation and other pious exercises, provided the foundation of this esteem and love be wholly God, who mercifully deigns through them to communicate Himself to our souls.

We receive the prince himself when we receive his suite. It would be showing him little respect to neglect his officers under pretext of possessing him alone.


CHAPTER VII.

There is no Enduring Peace but in Submission to the Divine Action.

The soul that is not united solely to the will of God will find neither rest nor sanctification in any self-chosen means—not even in the most excellent exercises of piety. If that which God Himself chooses for you does not suffice, what other hand can minister to your desires? If you turn from the food the divine will itself has prepared for you, what viands will not prove insipid to a taste so depraved? A soul cannot be truly nourished, strengthened, purified, enriched, sanctified, except by the fulness of the present moment. Then what more would you have? Since you here find all good, why seek it elsewhere? Are you wiser than God? Since He ordains it should be thus, how could you desire it should be otherwise? Can His wisdom and goodness err? Should you not from the moment He ordains an event be utterly convinced that it is the best that could happen? Do you think you will find peace in struggling with the Almighty? On the contrary, is it not this struggle too often renewed, almost unconsciously, which is the cause of all our disquiet. It is but just that the soul which is not satisfied with the divine fulness of the present moment should be punished by an inability to find contentment in anything else.

If books, the example of the saints, spiritual discourses, destroy the peace of the soul, if they fill without satisfying, it is a mark that we have not received them in simple abandonment to the divine action, but have taken them ourselves in a spirit of proprietorship. Their fulness, therefore, bars the entrance of God to the soul, and we must rid ourselves of it as an obstacle to grace. But when the divine action ordains the use of these means, the soul receives them as it does everything else—that is, in the order of God. She accepts them as she finds them, in her fidelity simply using them, never appropriating them; and their moment passed she abandons them to find her contentment in what follows in the order of Providence. In truth there is nothing really beneficial for me but that which comes to me in the order of God. Nowhere can I find any means, however good in itself, more efficacious for my sanctification and more capable of giving peace to my soul.


CHAPTER VIII.

The Perfection of Souls and the Excellence of Different States are in Proportion to their Conformity to the Order of God.

The order of God gives to all things which concern the faithful soul a supernatural and divine value; all that it exacts, all that it embraces, and all the objects upon which it sheds its light become holiness and perfection, for its virtue is limitless: it makes all that it touches divine. But in order to keep ourselves in the path of perfection, swerving neither to the right nor the left, the soul must follow no inspiration which she assumes comes from God without first assuring herself that it does not interfere with the duties of her state in life. These duties are the most certain indications of the will of God, and nothing should be preferred to them; in fulfilling them there is nothing to be feared, no exclusion or discrimination to be made; the moments devoted to them are the most precious and salutary for the soul from the fact that she is sure of accomplishing the good pleasure of God. All the perfection of the saints consists in their fidelity to the order of God; therefore we must refuse nothing, seek nothing, but accept all from His hand, and nothing without Him. Books, wise counsels, vocal prayers, interior affections, if they come to us in the order of God, instruct, guide, and unite the soul to Him. Quietism errs when it disclaims these means and all sensible appearances, for there are souls whom God wills shall be always led in this way, and their state and their attractions clearly indicate it. In vain we picture to ourselves methods of abandonment whence all action is excluded. When the order of God causes us to act, our sanctification lies in action.

Besides the duties of each one’s state, God may further ask certain actions which are not included in these duties, though not contrary to them. Attraction and inspiration, then, indicate the divine order; and the most perfect for souls whom God leads in this way is to add to things of precept, things inspired, but always with the precautions which inspiration requires to prevent its interfering with the duties of one’s state and the ordinary events of Providence.

God makes saints as He chooses. They are formed by His divine action, to which they are ever submissive, and this submission is the truest abandonment and the most perfect.

Fidelity to the duties of one’s state and submission to the dispositions of Providence are common to all the saints. They live hidden in obscurity, for the world is so fatal to holiness that they would avoid its quicksands; but not in this does their sanctity consist, but wholly in their entire submission to the order of God. The more absolute their submission the greater their sanctity. We must not imagine that those whose virtues God is pleased to brilliantly manifest by singular and extraordinary works, by undoubted attractions and inspirations, are any less faithful in the path of abandonment. Once the order of God makes these brilliant works a duty they fail in abandonment to Him and His will which ceases to rule their every moment, and their every moment ceases to be the exponent of the will of God if they content themselves with the duties of their state and the ordinary events of Providence. They must study and measure their efforts according to the standard of God’s designs for them in that path which their attractions indicate to them. Fidelity to inspiration is for them a duty; and as there are souls whose whole duty is marked by an exterior law, and who must be guided by it because God confines them to it, so also there are others who, besides their exterior duties, must be further faithful to that interior law which the Holy Spirit engraves upon their hearts.

But who are the most perfect? Vain and idle research! Each one must follow the path which is traced for him. Perfection consists in absolute submission to the order of God and carefully availing ourselves of all that is most perfect therein. It advances us little to weigh the advantages of the different states considered in themselves, since it is neither in the quality nor quantity of things enjoined that sanctity is to be sought. If self-love be the principle of our actions, or if we do not correct it when we recognize its workings, we will be always poor in the midst of an abundance not provided by the order of God. However, to decide in a measure the question, I think that sanctity corresponds to the love one has for God’s good pleasure, and the greater one’s love for this holy will and this order, whatever the character of their manifestations, the greater one’s sanctity. This is manifest in Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, for in their private life there is more of love than of grandeur, and more of spirit than of matter; and it is not written that these sacred persons sought the holiest of things, but holiness in all things.

We must therefore conclude that there is no special way which can be called the most perfect, but that the most perfect in general is fidelity to the order of God, whether in the accomplishment of exterior duties or in the interior dispositions, each one according to his state and calling.

I believe that if souls seriously aspiring to perfection understood this, and knew how direct is their path, they would be spared much difficulty. I say the same equally of souls living in the world and of souls consecrated to God. If the first knew the means of merit afforded them by their ever-recurring daily duties and the ordinary actions of their state in life; if the second could persuade themselves that the foundation of sanctity lies in those very things which they consider unimportant and even foreign to them; if both could understand that the crosses sent by Providence which they constantly find in their state in life lead them to the highest perfection by a surer and shorter path than do extraordinary states or extraordinary works; and that the true philosopher’s stone is submission to the order of God, which changes into pure gold all their occupations, all their weariness, all their sufferings—how happy they would be! What consolation and what courage they would gather from this thought, that to acquire the friendship of God and all the glory of heaven they have but to do what they are doing, suffer what they are suffering; and that what they lose and count as naught would suffice to obtain them eminent sanctity. O my God, that I might be the missionary of Thy holy will, and teach the whole world that there is nothing so easy, so simple, so within the reach of all, as sanctity! Would that I could make them understand that just as the good and bad thief had the same to do and suffer to obtain their salvation, so two souls, one worldly and the other wholly interior and spiritual, have nothing more to do, one than the other; that she who sanctifies herself acquires eternal happiness by doing in submission to the will of God what she who is lost does through caprice; and that the latter is lost by suffering unwillingly and impatiently what she who is saved endures with resignation. The difference, therefore, is only in the heart.

O dear souls who read this, let me repeat to you: Sanctity will cost you no more; do what you are doing; suffer what you are suffering: it is only your heart that need be changed. By the heart we mean the will. This change, then, consists in willing what comes to us by the order of God. Yes, holiness of heart is a simple fiat, a simple disposition of conformity to the will of God. And what is easier? For who could not love so adorable and merciful a will? Let us love it, then, and through this love alone all within us will become divine.


CHAPTER IX.
All the Riches of Grace are the Fruit of Purity of Heart and Perfect Self-abandonment.

He, therefore, who would abundantly enjoy all good has but to purify his heart, detach himself from creatures, and completely abandon himself to the will of God. In this purity of heart and self-abandonment he will find all things.

Let others, Lord, ask Thee all gifts, let them multiply their petitions; I have but one gift to ask, but one prayer to make: Give me a pure heart. O blessed pure of heart! In thy lively faith thou beholdest God within thee. Thou seest Him in all things, and thou seest Him at all times working within thee and about thee. Thou art in all things His subject and His instrument. He guides thee in all things and leads thee to all things. Frequently thou art unmindful; but He thinks for thee. He only asks that thou desire all that comes to thee or may come to thee by His divine order. He understands the preparation of thy heart. In thy salutary blindness thou seekest in vain to discover this desire; but oh! it is clear to Him. How great is thy simplicity! Knowest thou not that a well-disposed heart is no other than a heart in which God dwells? Beholding His own desires in this heart He knows it will be ever submissive to His order. He knows at the same time that thou art ignorant what is best for thee, therefore it is His care to provide for thee. He cares not that thy designs are thwarted. Thou wouldst go east: He leads thee west. Thou art just upon the rocks: He turns the helm and brings thee safely into port. Though knowing neither chart, nor route, nor winds, nor tides, thy voyages are ever prosperous. If pirates cross thy way an unexpected breeze bears thee beyond their reach.

O good will! O purity of heart! Well did Jesus know your value when He placed ye among the beatitudes. What greater happiness than to possess God and be possessed by Him? O state most blessed and full of charm! In it we sleep peacefully in the bosom of Providence, sporting like a child with the divine wisdom, unheedful of our course, which is ever onward; in spite of shoals, and pirates, and continual storms, we are borne on to a prosperous end.

O purity of heart! O good will! Ye are the sole foundation of all spiritual states. To you are given, and through you are made profitable, the gifts of pure faith, pure hope, pure confidence, and pure love. Upon your stem are grafted the desert flowers—I mean those graces which we rarely find blooming but in utterly detached souls, of which God takes possession as of an uninhabited dwelling, and there abides to the exclusion of all other things. You are that bountiful source whence flow all the streams which water the parterre of the bridegroom and the garden of the bride. Alas! how truly mayest thou say to all souls: Consider me well; I am the mother of fair love—that love which develops all that is best and takes it to itself. It is I who give birth to that sweet and salutary fear which inspires a horror of evil, and makes you peacefully avoid it; I who ripen the sublime knowledge of God’s greatness and reveal the value of the virtues which honor Him. It is I, finally, who inspire those ardent desires which, unceasingly sustained by holy confidence, stimulate you to practise virtue in the expectation of that divine object, the enjoyment of which will one day become, even as it is now (though then in a much more perfect degree), the happiness of faithful souls. Well mayest thou invite them all to enrich themselves from thy inexhaustible treasures, for thou art the source of all spiritual conditions and ways. From thee do they draw all their beauty, attraction, and charm. Those marvellous fruits of grace and virtue which dazzle us on all sides, and with which our devotion is nourished, are thy harvests. Thine is the land of abundance and honey; thy breasts distil milk, thy bosom gives out the sweet odor of myrrh; through thy fingers flow in all its purity the divine wine which usually must be obtained by the labor of the wine-press.

Let us fly then, dear souls, and plunge ourselves in that sea of love which invites us. What await we? Why do we tarry? Let us hasten to lose ourselves in God, in His very heart, that we may inebriate ourselves with the wine of His charity; in this heart we shall find the key to all heavenly treasures. Then let us proceed on our way to heaven, for there is no secret of perfection which we may not penetrate: every avenue is open to us, even to the garden, the cellar, the vineyard of the Bridegroom. If we would breathe the air of the fields we have but to direct our steps thither; in a word, we may come and go at will armed with this key of David, this key of knowledge, this key of the abyss which contains the hidden treasures of the divine wisdom. With it we may also open the gates of the mystic death and descend into its sacred shades; we may go down into the depths of the sea and into the den of the lion. It is this divine key which unlocks those dark dungeons into which it thrusts souls, to withdraw them purified and sanctified; it introduces us into those blissful abodes where light and knowledge dwell, where the Bridegroom takes His repose at midday, and where He reveals to His faithful souls the secrets of His love. O divine secrets, which may not be revealed, and which no mortal tongue can express! This key, dear souls, is love. All blessings wait only for love to enrich us. It gives sanctity and all its accompaniments; its right hand and its left are filled with it that it may pour it in abundance from all sources into hearts open to divine grace. O divine seed of eternity! who can sufficiently praise thee? But why seek to praise thee? It is better to possess thee in silence than to praise thee by feeble words. What am I saying? We must praise thee, but only because thou possessest us. For once thou possessest the heart, whether we read or write, or speak, or act, or are silent, it is all one and the same. We assume nothing, we refuse nothing; we are hermits, we are apostles; we are ill, we are well, we are simple, we are eloquent; in a word, we are what God wills we should be. The heart hears thy mandates, and, as thy faithful echo, repeats them to the other faculties. In this material and spiritual combination which thou deignest to regard as thy kingdom the heart governs under thy guidance; as it contains no desires uninspired by thee, all objects please it under whatever form thou presentest them. Those which nature or the Evil One would substitute for thine only fill it with disgust and horror. If sometimes thou permittest the heart to be surprised, it is only that it may become wiser and more humble; but as soon as it recognizes its illusion it returns to thee with more love, and binds itself to Thee with greater fidelity.