Salesian Literature

Conference 9  :  On Religious Modesty

Treating of Religious Modesty, the manner of receiving correction, and the means of so establishing one’s soul in God that nothing can turn it aside from Him.

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You ask what is meant by true modesty.  I reply that there are four virtues which bear this name.  The first, and that which bears it pre-eminently, is propriety in our external deportment; and to this virtue are opposed two vices: want of gravity in our gestures and behaviour – that is to say, levity – and, what is no less contrary to this virtue, an affected behaviour.  The second virtue bearing the name of modesty is the interior propriety of our understanding and our will, which also has two opposite vices: curiosity in the understanding – that is, a multiplicity of desires to know and understand all things – and instability in our undertakings, passing from one exercise to another without staying in any.  The other vice is a certain stupidity and carelessness of mind which is unwilling even to know or learn the things necessary for our perfection, and this is an imperfection not less dangerous than the other.  The third sort of modesty relates to our style of conversation and to our words — that is to say, to our manner of conversing with our neighbour—avoiding the two opposite im­perfections, which are rusticity and loquacity; rus­ticity, which prevents us from contributing our share towards keeping up good conversation; loqua­city, which makes us talk so much that we give others no opportunity of talking in their turn. The fourth virtue is neatness and propriety as to our clothing, and the two contrary vices are un­tidiness and superfluity.

 

These are, then, the four distinguishing sorts of modesty. The first is most highly recommendable for several reasons, and especially because it keeps us in great subjection. There is no virtue which needs such special attention. Now, in the subjection which it imposes lies its great value, for all that brings us into subjection for the love of God is of great merit and wonderfully pleasing to Him[1]. The second reason is that it keeps us in subjection not only for a time, but always; both in all places, whether we are alone or whether we are in company, and at all times, even when we are asleep. A great Saint wrote to one of his disciples, telling him to lie down at night as in the presence of God, exactly as any one would have done if commanded by Our Lord when He was on earth to lie down and sleep in His presence. It is true, the Saint added, that you do not see Him and cannot hear the command which He is giving you, but nonetheless you should act as if you saw and heard Him, since He is truly present and guards you while you sleep. O my God, how modestly and devoutly we should lie down to rest if we saw Thee! Doubtless, we should fold our arms upon our breast with the deepest devotion. Religious modesty, then, keeps us in subjection at every moment of our lives, because the Angels are always present, and God Himself, for Whose eyes we practise it.

 

This virtue is also much recommended on account of the edification of our neighbour. I assure you that a simple and modest exterior has converted many, as in the case of St. Francis, who passed once through a town with such great modesty in his deportment that, though he did not speak a single word, a great number of young men followed him, attracted only by this, and desiring to be instructed by him[2]. A modest demeanour is a silent sermon; it is a virtue which St. Paul recommends most especially to the Philippians, in the fourth chapter of his epistle, saying: Let your modesty be known to all men. And when he tells his disciple St. Timothy that a Bishop must be adorned, he means not with rich clothing but with modesty, so that by his modest bearing he may encourage all to ap­proach him, avoiding alike rusticity and levity, so that while giving liberty to worldlings to come to him, they may not think that he is worldly like themselves.

 

Now, the virtue of religious modesty observes three things: time, place, and person. For, tell me, would not one who was unwilling to show more cheerfulness in recreation than out of recreation be very unsociable?  There are gestures and behaviour which would be unseemly out of recreation, but are not at all so at that time; so those who would laugh and relieve their mind in the midst of serious occupations, as they may very reasonably do at recreation, would they not be considered frivolous and giddy?  We must also take into consideration place, persons, the circle of which we may form part, and most especially the condition of the person. The modest demeanour of a woman of the world is not the same as that of a nun; a young lady in the world who kept her eyes lowered as do our sisters would not be approved, any more than our sisters would be if they in this particular did not exceed persons in the world.  A demeanour which would be modest in one man would not be so in another, on account of his rank; a gravity extremely suitable in an elderly person would be affectation in a younger one, to whom a lowlier and humbler modesty belongs.

 

I must tell you something which I was reading lately,[3] because it relates to our present subject — namely, that of religious modesty. The great St. Arsenius (who was chosen by Pope St. Damasus to bring up and instruct Arcadius, who was destined to succeed his father Theodosius in the government of the Empire), after having been honoured at the court for many years, and as much favoured by the Emperor as could be any man in the world, grew weary at last of all these vanities, although his life at the court had been as truly Christian as it had been honourable, and resolved to retire into the desert amongst the holy hermit Fathers who were living there, a design which he courageously carried out.  The Fathers, knowing the virtuous reputation of this great Saint, were filled with joy and consola­tion at receiving him into their company. He attached himself especially to two monks, one of whom was named Pastor, and formed a great friendship with them.    Now, one day when all the Fathers were assembled together for a spiritual Conference (a custom which has prevailed among pious persons from all time), one of the Fathers informed the Superior that Arsenius was in the habit of failing in religious modesty by crossing one leg over the other.  "It is true," replied the Superior, "I have remarked it myself, but the good man has lived a long time in the world, and brought this habit with him from the court. What can be done?" The Superior made this excuse, for it was painful to vex him by reproving him for so slight a thing, in which there was no sin; at the same time, he was anxious to induce him to correct himself of this the only fault which could be brought against him. The monk Pastor then said:  "O Father, do not distress yourself; there will be no difficulty in telling him of it, and he will be very glad to be told.  Tomorrow, if you please, when we are all assembled together, I will put myself in the same posture; you will correct me for it before all the company, and he will then understand that it must not be done.”  The Superior therefore administering the correction to Pastor, the good Arsenius threw himself at the feet of the Father and humbly asked pardon, saying that although perhaps no one had remarked this fault in him, he had always committed it; it was his usual habit at court, and he begged a penance for it.  The penance was not given, but he was never again seen in that posture.

 

In this story I find several things most worthy of consideration. In the first place, the prudence of the Superior in fearing to grieve Arsenius by a correction on such slight grounds, though at the same time he tried to find some way of correcting him, proving thereby the exactness of all with regard to the smallest details of religious modesty. In the next place, I notice the goodness of Arsenius in acknowledging his fault, and his fidelity in correcting himself, although it was so slight a matter that at court it was not even considered an impropriety, although it was so among these Fathers. I observe also that we must not be troubled if we find some old habit of the world still clinging to us, since Arsenius retained this one after having lived for a long time in the desert in the company of these Fathers. We cannot get rid so quickly of all our imperfections; we must never be disturbed at finding many still remaining in us, if only we have the will to struggle against them. Moreover, observe that you are not judging rashly if you think that the Superior is correcting another for a fault which you yourself commit, in order that, without directly reproving you, you may amend; but you must humble yourself profoundly, seeing that the Superior holds you weak, and knows that you would feel too much a reproof addressed to yourself. You must also love this abjection cordially, and humble yourself as did Arsenius, confessing that you are guilty of the same fault, taking care always to humble yourself in a spirit of gentleness and tranquility.

 

I see that you wish me to speak of the other virtues which fall under modesty.  I tell you, then, that the   second, which is interior, produces the same effects upon the soul as the first does upon the body.  As this controls the gestures and deportment of the body, avoiding the two extremes or contrary vices of levity or licence, and of a too affected carriage, so in the same way inward modesty maintains the powers of our souls in tranquillity and moderation, avoiding, as I have said, curiosity of the understanding, over which it chiefly exercises its control, retrenching also from our will its innumerable desires, and directing it simply to that one thing which Mary chose, and which shall not be taken away from her [Lk. 10:42] — that is, the will to please God. Martha represents very well the want of control in the will, for she is too eager: she sets all the servants of the house to work; she goes hither and thither without pausing for a moment, so anxious is she to treat Our Lord well; and she seems to think she will never have enough dishes prepared to entertain Him. In the same way, the will which is not restrained by moderation flits from one subject to another, in order to stimulate itself to love God, and to desire many means of serving Him, and yet so many things are not needed. Better is it to cling to God like Magdalene, sitting at His feet, asking Him to give us His love, than to be thinking how and by what means we can acquire it. This modesty keeps our will confined to the exercise of those means of advancement in the love of God which belong to our own particular vocation.

 

I have said that this virtue chiefly exercises its control over the understanding; and this because our natural curiosity is very hurtful, and prevents us from ever knowing a thing perfectly, because we never take time enough to learn it thoroughly. It also avoids the vice which lies at the other extreme — namely, that stupidity and carelessness of mind which cares not to know what is necessary. Now, this subjection of the understanding is of great importance as regards our perfection. The will does not properly cling to its object, because the understanding shows it the beauty of something else, and so draws it away.

 

Bees cannot rest as long as they have no king. They flutter about incessantly, wandering hither and thither — there is scarcely any repose in the hive; but as soon as their king is born, they all gather round him, and stay there, never leaving him except to go and gather their spoils, at his command. In like manner, our understanding and will, our passions and the faculties of our soul, like spiritual bees, have no repose until they have a king — that is, until they have chosen Our Lord for their King. Our senses never cease to wander curiously about, draw­ing our interior faculties after them, wasting themselves now on one subject, now on another. Thus we are in continual affliction of spirit, in continual restlessness, which destroy that peace and tranquil­lity of mind so necessary to us; and this it is which is produced by want of control of the under­standing and will. But as soon as our souls have chosen Our Lord for their sole and sovereign King, All our powers get quiet, like chaste and mystic bees, cluster around Him, and never leave their hive, except for those exercises of fraternal charity which this sacred King commands them to practise. As loon as these are accomplished, they return to recollection and holy, desirable quiet, in order to distil and store up the honey of the sweet and holy thoughts and affections which they draw from His sacred presence. Thus they will avoid the two extremes mentioned above, cutting off, on the one hand, curiosity of the understanding by simple attention to God, and, on the other, stupidity and carelessness of mind by the exercises of charity which they practise towards their neighbour when required.

 

Here is another example for you on this subject.[4] A Religious once asked the great St. Thomas what he must do to become very learned. "You must read only one book," replied the Saint. I have lately been reading St. Augustine's Rule for nuns[5] in which he says distinctly that the sisters are never to read any books but those which are given to them by the Superior. Later on he gave the name com­mand to his monks[6]; so well did ho know the evil which follows from curiosity to know more than is needed to make us serve God better.  This is very little, for if you walk in simplicity, by the careful observance of your Rules, you will serve God perfectly, without going any further afield in the pursuit of knowledge[7].  Great learning is not necessary in order to love God, as St. Bonaventure says[8], for a simple woman is as capable of loving God as the most learned men in the world.[9]  Very little knowledge and much practice is necessary in the matter of perfection.

 

Speaking of the danger of curiosity with regard to all sorts of means of arriving at perfection, I remember talking to two nuns, of two different well reformed Orders. One of them, from having read the works of the blessed Mother Teresa, had learnt to speak so much like her that you might have fancied her a little Mother Teresa. Indeed, she believed it herself, having so vivid a sentiment of what the saintly Mother did during her life that, she felt as if she herself did it also, even so far as to have abstraction from the senses and suspension of the powers, just as she had read about the Saint; and really she could talk about it all very well. There are others who, from having meditated a great deal on the life of the Saints Catherine of Sienna and Genoa, think themselves to be second St. Catherines by imitation. Certainly these souls have, at any rate, the satisfaction of imagining themselves to be saints, although their satisfaction is vain.  The other nun whom I told you I knew was of a very different temperament; never was she satisfied or at rest, because she was always seeking out and desiring some way and method for becoming perfect; and always, in spite of her exertions, she kept fancying that there must be some other means of arriving at perfection than that which she had been taught.  The one of these nuns lived contented in her imaginary holiness, seeking and desiring nothing else; the other lived in discontent, because the perfection which she sought was hidden from her, and she was therefore always desiring something else.  Interior modesty keeps the soul in a state between these two extremes, in that happy mean of desiring to know what is necessary, and nothing more.  Moreover, I must remind you that the exterior modesty of which we have spoken greatly helps the interior, and the acquisition of peace and tranquility in the soul.  The proof of this is that all the holy Fathers, who were specially given to prayer, judged a well-regulated attitude contributed greatly to its efficacy, such as kneeling with clasped hands or arms outstretched.[10]

 

The third department of religious modesty concerns our words and conversation. There are words which would be unsuitable at any other time than that of recreation, in which it is just and reasonable to relax our minds a little. Indeed, at recreation, anyone who would not talk, or allow others to talk, on any but lofty and sublime subjects would act improperly; for have we not said that propriety takes account of times, places, and persons? On this point I must tell you that I was reading the other day[11] that St. Pachomius, when he first retired into the desert to lead a monastic life, had great temptations, and the evil spirits often appeared to him in various manners. The writer of his life tells us that on one occasion, when he had gone into the forest to cut wood, a great troop of these infernal spirits came upon him, seeking to terrify him, ranging themselves in order of battle, like well-armed soldiers keeping guard, and crying out to one another: " Make way for the holy man!" St. Pachomius, at once recognising this as a bravado of the evil one, began to smile, saying: "Ah! You are laughing at me, but please God! I shall be one.” Then the devil, seeing that he could not entrap the Saint by making him depressed, thought he would try to catch him on the side of levity, since he had laughed at his first attempt.  He therefore fastened a quantity of great cords to a single leaf of a tree, and then a troop of demons took hold of the cords and began to pull at the leaf, pretending to make most violent efforts, crying out and sweating as if it were a work of immense difficulty.  The Saint, raising his eyes and seeing this folly, pictured in his mind Our Lord crucified upon the Tree of the Cross; and they, perceiving that the Saint was occupying himself with the fruit of the tree and not the leaf, fled, covered with shame and confusion.

 

There is a time to laugh and a, time to weep, and there is also a time to speak and a time to keep silence [Eccl. 3:4,7], as this glorious Saint shows us in these temptations. This holy modesty regulates our manner of speaking, so that it becomes pleasing, neither too loud nor too low, too slow nor too quick; it keeps us within the bounds of holy moderation, so that when others are speaking we allow them to do so without interrupting them, for that partakes of loquacity, and yet we speak when it is our turn, so as to avoid rusticity and self-sufficiency, which are such hindrances to good conversation. Often, too, occasions arise in which it is necessary to say much without speaking, by our modesty, serenity, patience, and calmness.

 

The fourth virtue named modesty refers to dress and the manner of dressing.  Of this nothing need, be said except that we must avoid any lack of cleanliness and neatness in our apparel, as much as the other extreme of too great attention to dress and an overcare to be well dressed, which is vanity. St. Bernard, however, insists very much upon cleanliness as a good indication of purity and cleanness of soul.[12]    There is a thing which seems rather to hamper us on this point in the life of St. Hilarion,[13] for, speaking one day to a gentleman who came to see him, he told him that "there was no use in expecting to combine cleanliness with a hair-shirt; "meaning that we must not trouble ourselves about the cleanliness of our bodies, which are vile and putrid carrion.  But this was rather admirable than imitable in this great Saint.   We must not, indeed, be fastidious; but, on the other hand, we must never disregard cleanliness. If I am not mistaken, the Saint spoke in this manner because he was address­ing courtiers, whom he saw to be so much inclined to over-refinement that ho was forced to use severe language. So those who wish to straighten a young tree, not only bring it to the direction in which they wish it to grow, but even bend it somewhat beyond, so that it may not return to its former direction.  This is all that I have to say about Religious Modesty.

 

In the second place, you want to know how we should receive correction without letting remain in us any sensitiveness or bitterness of heart. To prevent the feeling of anger from stirring within us, and to keep the blood from showing itself in our face, cannot be. Happy, indeed, shall we be if we attain to this perfection a quarter of an hour before we die!  But to maintain bitterness in our minds in such wise that after this feeling has passed we do not speak with the same confidence, gentleness, and calmness as before — Oh, this we must take all pains to avoid!  You say that you do all in your power to drive away the feeling, but it remains all the same. I assure you, my dear daughter, that in all proba­bility you only drive away this feeling in the same way as the citizens of a town, in which a riot breaks out at night, disperse these seditious enemies.  They do not actually drive them out of the town, so that they can go about secretly from street to street, and at daybreak they spring out upon the inhabitants and remain the masters. You, indeed, drive away the feeling which you have about being corrected, but not so vigorously and completely as to prevent some little of it lurking secretly in some corner of your heart.  You do not wish to have this feeling, but yet you do not wish to submit your judgment, which makes you believe either that the correction was made improperly, or from temper or some such cause.  Who cannot see that this rebel will fall on you and put you to utter confusion if you do not promptly drive him away?

 

But what, then, must we do at such a time? We must cling closely to Our Lord, and speak to Him of something else. But your feelings are not yet calmed down; they are still suggesting to you to dwell upon the wrong done to you. Ah! This is not the time to bring your judgment into subjection, to make it believe and own that the correction is good and made properly! Oh no! that must be done after your soul is calmed and quieted, for while it is troubled you must neither do nor say anything, only remain firm and resolved not to yield to passion, whatever excuse we might have; for at such times excuses will never be wanting — they will come in crowds — but we must not listen to a single one, how­ever good it may seem. We must simply, as I have said, keep close to God, diverting our minds by speaking to Him of other things, after having humbled and abased ourselves before His divine Majesty. But take note of these words, which 1 am glad to insist upon on account of their utility. When you humble yourselves, it must be with a gentle and peaceful, not with a querulous and im­patient humility. Unfortunately, we offer to God acts of humility so much against the grain, and so unwilling, that they do not calm our minds, and are fruitless. But if, on the contrary, we made these acts in the presence of the divine Goodness with a sweet confidence, we should rise up serene and calm, able easily to reject all those reasons which our private judgment and self-love suggest, and which are often, one may say habitually, unreasonable; and we should be ready to converse just as before with those who reproved or contradicted us. You can easily, you say, so far overcome yourselves as to speak to these people, but if they do not reply as you would like, the temptation recurs. Well, all this proceeds from the evil of which we have already spoken. What ought it to signify to you whether they speak to you in one way or another, provided that you do your duty?

 

But, all said and done, there is no one who does not dislike reproof.  St. Pachomius, after having lived a most perfect life in the desert for fourteen or fifteen years, had a revelation from God that he would win a great number of souls, and that many would flock to the desert to place themselves under his guidance.    He had already several Religious with him, and the first whom he had received was his own elder brother, John. St. Pachomius then, having received this revelation, immediately set to work to enlarge his monastery, adding many cells to it. His brother John, either not knowing his intention, or out of his great zeal for poverty, addressed a severe reproof to him one day, asking him, for instance, if it was by building so great a monastery that he expected and wished to imitate Our Lord, Who had not where to lay His head [Mt. 8:20] while on earth.  St. Pachomius, saint though he was, felt this reproof so keenly that he turned away, in order, if I am not mistaken, to conceal his annoyance. Then he went and threw himself on his knees before God, asking pardon for his fault, and lamenting that, after so many years spent in the desert, he should still, as he said, be so immortified.  His prayer was so fervent and so humble that he obtained the grace of never again being guilty of impatience.[14]  Even St. Francis[15] towards the close of his life, after so many ecstasies and loving unions with God, after having done so much for His glory, and after having conquered himself in so many ways, one day, when he was planting cabbages in the garden, being reproved by one of the brothers for not planting them well, was affected by such a strong movement of anger that an abusive word against the brother half escaped his lips.  He actually opened his mouth to pronounce it, but restrained himself instantly, and stooping to take up some of the manure which ho was digging in with the cabbages — "Ah! wicked tongue," he cried, "I will teach thee what it is to abuse thy brother;" then suddenly throwing himself on his knees, he entreated the brother to forgive him.    Now, what right, I ask you, have we to be surprised at finding ourselves quick to anger, and ready to resent reproof and contradiction? We must follow the example of these Saints, who instantly conquered themselves, the one having recourse to prayer, the other humbly asking pardon of his brother, and neither the one nor the other doing anything to foster their sensitiveness, but, turning away from it, and profiting by it.

 

You say that you accept the reproof cheerfully, that you approve of it and consider it to be just and reasonable, but that it causes you a certain confusion as regards the Superior, as having dis­pleased her or given her cause for displeasure, and that this deprives you of confidence in approaching her, although you love the abjection which is the result of your fault. This, my daughter, proceeds from self-love. You are not, perhaps, aware that there is within us a certain, monastery, in which self-love is the superior, and therefore imposes penances. Well, the confusion which you feel is the penance which it imposes on you for the fault of having displeased the Superior, because, perhaps, she will not esteem you so much as she would have done if you had not committed this fault.

 

I have said enough for those who receive the reproof; now I must say a word about those who give it.    Besides these being obliged to use great discretion in choosing times and seasons and other conditions for giving it, they must also never be disappointed or offended to see that it is felt by those to whom they administer it; for it is very painful to any one to be reproved.[16]

 

You ask, in the third place, how you can succeed in raising your mind direct to God, without turning to the right or to the left. My dear daughter, your question pleases me very much, because it Contains its own answer: you must do as you say— go straight to God, without looking to the right or to the left. That is not, however, what you ask, I see very well, but rather what you must do, in order so to fix your mind steadfastly in God, that nothing can weaken its hold or withdraw it from Him.  For this two things are necessary: to die and to be saved, for after that there will be no more separation, and your spirit will be indissolubly attached and united to its God.   Again, you say that this is not what you ask, but what you can do to prevent the smallest insect, as you express it — that is, the smallest distraction — from withdrawing your mind from God as it does. Pardon me, my daughter, the smallest distraction does not withdraw your soul from God, as you say, for nothing with­draws us from God but sin; and our resolution, made each morning, to keep our soul united to God and attentive to His presence, keeps us always there, even when we are sleeping, since we sleep in the name of God and according to His most holy will. It even seems as if His divine Goodness said to us: Sleep and rest; meanwhile I will watch over you to guard and defend you from the roaring lion that goeth about seeking whom he may devour [1 Peter 5:8].  Have we not, then, good reason to lie down to rest modestly, as we have already said?  The means of doing well all that we do is to be very attentive to the presence of God, for no one would offend Him if he remem­bered that Ho is watching him. Venial sins are unable to turn us aside from the path which leads to God.  They will doubtless delay our progress a little, but yet they will not turn us aside, still less will simple distractions, and this I have said in the Introduction[17].

 

As regards prayer, it is not less profitable to us or less pleasing to God when it is full of distractions; nay, it will perhaps be more useful to us than if we had much consolation in it, because there will be more labour; provided, however, that we are faithful in withdrawing from these distractions, and in refraining from dwelling upon them voluntarily.  It ill the same with regard to the difficulty which we experience throughout the day in dwelling upon the thought of God and of heavenly things; provided that we are careful to restrain our minds as far as possible from running after these flitting butterflies, As a mother restrains her child.    If she sees the poor little one longing to run off after the butterflies, hoping to catch them, she holds him back and says. “My child, you will only exhaust yourself by running after these butterflies hi the sun; you had much better stay with me."    The child stays with her, indeed, until he sees another, after which he would be as eager to run as ever if his mother did not hold him back in the same way.  What, then, can we do except have patience and not weary of our labours, since they are undertaken for the love of God?

 

If I am not mistaken, however, when we say that we cannot find God, and that He seems so far away, we only mean that we cannot feel His presence.  I have before observed that many people do not distinguish between God and the feeling of God, between faith and the feeling of faith — which is a very great defect.    It seems to them that when they do not feel God they are not in His presence, which is a mistake.  A person who was about to suffer martyrdom for God, and yet did not actually think of Him, but rather of his pain, although the fueling of faith may be wanting, yet does not fail to merit because of his first resolution, and makes an act of great love.    There is a difference between possessing the presence of God (I mean being in His presence) and having the feeling of His presence. God alone can give us the latter; as to my giving you the means of acquiring this sentiment, it is an impossibility.

 

Do you ask what you must do in order to keep yourself always with the deepest reverence before God, as being most unworthy of this grace? Well, there is nothing to do but just what you say: to remember that He is our God, and that we are His feeble creatures, all unworthy of this honour. St. Francis did this, who spent a whole night asking God: "Who art Thou, and who am I?"[18]

 

If you ask me, in fine: "What can I do to acquire the love of God?" I answer: By willing to love Him; and instead of setting to work to try and find out how you can unite your soul to God, put the thing in practice by a continual application of your mind to Him, and I assure you that you will arrive much more quickly at your object by this means than by any other. For the more we pour ourselves out, the less recollected we shall be, and the less capable of union with the divine Majesty, Who would have all we are without reserve. One actually finds souls who are so busy in thinking how they shall do a thing that they have no time to do it; and yet, in what concerns our perfection, which consists in the union of our soul with the divine Goodness, there is no question of knowing much, but of doing.[19] It seems to me that those of whom we ask the road to heave are very right in answering us like those who tell us that, in order to reach such a place, we must just go on putting one foot before the other, and that by this means we shall arrive where we desire.  Walk ever, we say to these souls so desirous of their perfection, walk in the way of your vocation with simplicity, more intent on doing than on desiring; that is the shortest road.

 

But here I perceive a little artifice which you must allow me to reveal to you, without being offended.  I see that you want me to teach you a sort of ready-made way of perfection, one that you have only to put your head into it, or put it on like a dress, and thus be perfect, without taking any trouble.  You want me, I say, to give you a ready-made perfection, for what I tell you must be done is not pleasing to nature; it is not what we wanted.  Certainly, if that were in my power I should be the most perfect man in the world; for if I could give perfection to others without their having anything to do, I assure you that I should take it first of all for myself.  You fancy that perfection is an art of which, if you can only discover the secret, you will instantly obtain possession, without any trouble.  Certainly this is a great mistake, for, in aspiring to union with the Beloved, there is no other secret than to do what we aspire to – that is, to labour faithfully in the exercise of divine love.

 

I wish, you, however, to observe that when I say we must do this, I am always referring to the superior part of our soul, for as regards all the feelings of repugnance in the inferior part, we must pay no more heed to them than passers-by do to dogs which they hear barking in the distance. Those who at a banquet try every dish, eating a little of each, so disorder their stomachs that they cannot sleep, and pass the night with the usual consequences of indigestion.  So it is with those souls who wish to try all methods and means which lead or may lead them to perfection, for their spiritual stomach not having sufficient heat to digest and put, in practice so many methods, a certain discomfort, and indigestion succeeds, which deprives them of that peace and serenity of mind in the presence of Our Lord which is the one thing needful which Mary chose, and which will never be taken from her [Lk. 10:42][20].   Let us pass on now to the other question which you put to me — namely, what you can do to strengthen your resolutions and make them succeed?  There is no better means, my daughter, than to put them in practice.  But you say that you are still so weak at, although you often make strong resolutions not to fall into the particular imperfection of which you want to cure yourself, no sooner does the occasion present itself than down you go.  Shall I tell you why we are still so weak? It is because we will not abstain from food which does not agree with us.  It is as if a person who wished to be free from pains the stomach were to ask a physician what he should do.  He would reply: “Do not eat such and such food, because it has that effect which brings you pain;” and yet the person will not abstain from it.  We do the same: for example, we should like to love reproof, and yet we obstinately cling to our own opinion.  That is foolishness; it cannot be.  You will never be strong enough to bear reproof courageously while you are nourishing yourself with the food of self-esteem.  I should wish to keep my soul recollected, and yet I will not restrain all sorts of idle thoughts; the two things are incompatible.  Ah! How much I wish that I could be steadfast and regular in my religious exercises; at the same time, I should also wish not to find them so trying – in fact, I should like to find the work ready done for me.  That cannot be in this life, for we shall always have to labour.  The Feast of the Purification, as I have told you before, has no octave.

 

We must make two equally firm resolutions: one, to be ready to see weeds growing in our garden; the other, to have the courage to see them pulled up, and to pull them up ourselves, for ours elf-love, which produces these miseries, will never die while we live.  Besides, to sometimes fall into venial sin does not make a weak soul, provided that we rise up quickly, by turning the soul towards God and quietly humbling ourselves.  We must not imagine that we can live without committing any sins, for only Our Lady had that privilege.  Certainly, even if they retard our progress a little, as I have said, they do not turn us aside from the way; one single look at God effaces them.[21]

 

Lastly, I would have  you  know that we must never cease to make good resolutions, even though we may be well aware that, generally speaking, we do not carry them into effect; yea, even if we should see that it will be out of our power to do so when the opportunity offers.  Indeed, we must make them with still more firmness than if we felt within ourselves courage enough to succeed in our enterprise, saying to Our Lord: “It is true that I shall not have strength enough to do or to bear such and such a thing of myself, but I rejoice in my infirmity, because it will be Thy strength which will do it in me” [2 Cor. 12:9-10].  Relying on this help, go forth courageously to the battle, and doubt not but that you will gain the victory.  Our Lord treats us as a good father and a good mother treat their child, who is allowed to walk alone as long as he is on the soft grass of a meadow, or some mossy carpet, because even if he were to fall he could not do himself much harm; but on rough and dangerous roads they carry the little one tenderly in their arms.  We have often seen souls courageously sustaining great assaults, without being vanquished by their enemies, and yet afterwards defeated in very slight combats.  Why is this, if not that Our Lord, seeing that they would not do themselves much harm by falling, has allowed them to walk alone, which He did not do when they were among the precipices of great temptations, from which His all-powerful hand extricated them.  St. Paula, who so bravely renounced the world, quitting Home and all its luxuries, and who could not even be shaken by her maternal affection for her children, so resolute was her heart in forsaking all for God — even she, after having effected these marvellous things, allowed herself to be overcome by the temptation of private judgment, which made her believe that she ought not to submit to the counsel of various holy persons, who would have her give up some of her accustomed austerities; in which St. Jerome confesses[22] that she was to blame.

 

In conclusion, let me observe that all that we have said in this Conference relates to delicate points of perfection, and therefore none of you who have been listening to my words must be disappointed, if you find that you have not yet attained to such perfection, since all of you, by the grace of God, have the courage to wish to aim at it.  May Jesus ever live!

 

 

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[1] Although I am not very fond of using this word merit amongst ourselves.   (Addition.)

[2] A short time ago a Capuchin Father, pointing out to me one of their friars whom he had brought with him, said : "You see this Father ; well, he does not preach, and scarcely converses with any one, being of a very silent disposition, yet his modest demeanour alone has attracted many to enter our Order." (Addition.)

[3] Surius, ad diem 19 Julii.

[4] Del Castiglio Hist. S. Dominici et Ord. Sui, Pars. Ia, lib. Iii., c. xxxvii.

[5] Epist. Ccxi. Para. 13.

[6] Regula ad Servos Dei, para. 9.

[7] Spiritual conferences and sermons are not solely intended for our instruction, but sometimes to recreate and invigorate our minds.  (addition).

[8] Whose feast we are keeping. (Addition).

[9] Chronica Fratrum Min., lib. Vii., c. xiv.

[10] You ask if keeping the head bent or turned a little over the shoulder, or casting up the eyes, is contrary to modesty of demeanour.  I reply that if this is done sometimes without thinking about it, there is no great harm, provided that we do not affect this manner of acting as a sign of extraordinary devotion; for every kind  of affectation in these matters is most objectionable.  We must carefully avoid acting the sanctificetur with no nomen tuum after it; I mean, to act the devotee and the saint in our exterior deportment, as I did once.  There is no harm in telling you here this amusing little story, as it is to the point. When I was a young student in this town, I was seized with a fervour and a great longing to be saintly and perfect, I began by fancying that, in order to become so, I must twist my head on one side when I was saying my Breviary, because another student who really was a saint did so. This practice I continued steadily for some time, but without becoming any holier. Now let us return to our subject. This second kind of modesty has been called by many a close application — that in, a very especial care — to keep the mind within the limits of a holy moderation, only wishing to know what is necessary, and restraining all curiosity about other things. (Addition.)

[11] Vitae Patrum, I. i.

[12] Vita la St. Bernard., lib. iii, c. ii.

[13] Apud S. Hieron.

[14] Vitae Patrum, 1, I; Vita St. Pachomius, c. xvi.

[15] The sisters who wrote down this Conference made a mis­take here. The circumstance which they relate happened not to St. Francis of Assisi, but to one of his disciples named Barbarus. (See Thorn, de Celano, Appendix ad Vitam primam S. Francisci; cap.xc. ii.) It is not unlikely, however, that in treating of the repression of our first imperfect emotions, St. Francis de Sales may have made some allusion to the seraphic Patriarch himself. (See the Fioretti, cap. iii.)

[16] There is no doubt, my dear daughter, that a multitude of words on a subject on which but very few are needed should be avoided as an immoderation; especially on the point of which you speak – namely, self-excuse.  For, besides the excess in words, it is another kind of imperfection to be unwilling to be recognised as faulty or imperfect; it is contrary to humility, which makes us love our abjection.  That is enough on this point.  What else have you to ask? (Addition).

[17] Introduction to the Devout Life, Part I, Chapter 5 and Chapter 22.

[18] See the Chronica Frat. Min., lib. i., c. viii.

[19] In this holy business we must walk with the greatest simplicity, for those who are continually inquiring which is the shortest way to get to the town for which they are bound, run the chance of arriving there after those who went straight along the high-road without turning aside.  For the former will be told: “You are not on the right track.  The road you are taking is the longest; you must turn back and take such a road.”  While they are walking back they do not advance, nor again while they are busy asking the way. (Addition).

[20] Let us pass on now to answer the question which you put to me as to how we are to obey God and our Superiors simply and purely. The question is excellent, and brings with it its own answer. Pure obedience is to obey God simply, and our Superior for the love of God. You can attach various linings to the intention for which you obey; for instance, you can clothe yourself with the will of God, because you know that the re­wards of the obedient are eternal, and that the disobedient will be deprived of the enjoyment of God. All this is good, but it in neither simple nor pure, because these motives are mixed and lined. So, too, you obey indeed your Superiors for the love of God, but you add to this robe the linings of which we have spoken, and also a certain desire of pleasing the Superior and gaining her approbation, which is not obeying simply and purely for the love of God. This desire to please the Superior very often robs us of the merit of obedience, and also of peace of mind, for as soon as we see that she is not pleased with us, instead of embracing this abjection and caressing it in the depths of our heart, we are as disquieted and troubled as if our happiness depended on it.  Oh, how great a blessing it would be for a soul to do nothing for her Superiors out of regard to their own person, but always to see in them God and His most holy love; for thus the end and aim of their obedience would be most pleasing to God, and to this we should aspire, not to gaining reward.  So doing, all differences in Superiors would be indifferent to us because we should find God in all.  (Addition.]

[21] When it is said that the blessing of the bishop and holy water efface them, that is not in virtue of the blessing, but in virtue of the act of humility which we make on receiving it, and of the turning of our soul to God.

You ask if in taking holy water we must always do so wit h the thoughts which certain books propose. Oh! do not think that all which they teach must be practised by persons who have already reached the point of being able, on every occasion, to turn their thoughts to the divine Majesty by contemplative affection! Such practices would mar their simplicity. Those who would make a little meditation while taking holy water, others when bowing to the crucifix or genuflecting to the Blessed Sacrament, or making the sign of the Cross, and so on, or who would consider each point of the life, death, and passion of Our Lord, will assuredly not have time during a whole Mass to form a single good affection or resolution, which is more useful still. It is clear that the intention of going to the church, to adore God includes all these special considerations in a more eminent way, and to keep ourselves in this affection, or in another, if it comes to us during Mass, is a very good way of hearing it. In fact, a multiplicity of subjects distracts our heart and mind, hindering any diverting them from that loving simplicity which renders our souls so pleasing to God. (Addition].

[22] Ep. cviii., ad Eustoch.

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