Treatise on the Love of GodBook X. The command to love god above all things

Man is the most perfect part of creation, the soul is the most perfect part of man, love is the perfection of the soul, and the perfection of love is the Love of God; so that the Love of God may be defined as the end, the perfection of the universe. And this explains the pre-eminence of that which our Lord called “the first and great commandment.”* This commandment is as the sun, whence all other Divine laws and precepts, all Gospel counsels, borrow their light and importance. Everything is created for that Divine Love, and everything tends to it; like a tree it | bears all counsels and inspirations as its flowers, eternal life its fruit, and whatever is not tending to eternal love tends to eternal death. Verily, that is a “great commandment” the fulfilling of which extends to eternity, and is itself the condition of eternal life.

Consider how gracious this law is. Surely it had been no small thing if God had but permitted us to approach such love, without urgently enjoining it by so many precepts! But that neither His exceeding Greatness nor our low estate, or any other excuse, might hinder our love to Him, He has made it a command. Apelles, when desperately in love with Compaspe, dared not give way to his affection because of

© Matt. xxii. 38.

his rival Alexander; but so soon as that rival yielded to him, he knew not whether to be most devoted to her who was ceded to him by the Emperor, or to the Emperor who had made so inestimable a concession. And verily, if we could but see it, our debt is infinite to Him Who not merely permits but commands our love. My God, whether is greatest, the Beauty which Thine infinite Goodness bids me love, or the Goodness which lays so gracious a precept on me?

At the Last Great Day God will cause the lost to perceive plainly the beauty of His Countenance and the treasures of His Goodness, so that they will long intensely, though vainly, to approach His Love. But even as we sometimes see a woman die in childbirth, all her travail and pains being fruitless, so those hapless souls, while perceiving the exceeding Beauty of God, will yet be powerless to love that which they hitherto rejected; and the spectacle which should kindle fervent love in the will must tend instead to profound misery, in the remembrance that all this they have lost, a remembrance profitless now, when the season of repentance is passed. And thus those that are lost will for ever be tormented by the knowledge of infinite happiness which they cannot share, infinite love, which, having rejected when it was within their reach, they now can never attain. Their thirst will be all the more cruel because they will remember that the fountain was once open to them; and though they may not share the brightness of the vision granted to God’s Elect, we know that they “shall see the Son of Man in His Glory,” and realise as they behold it what they have lost. Supposing that God had laid restrictions on His Love, how earnestly all devout souls would have striven to be admitted to it, more earnestly than David strove for love of Michael,’ or Jacob for Rachel. Those that are lost would reckon themselves saved could they hope ever to attain to the Love of God, and the blessed would count them-

* Sam. xviii.

selves as lost were it possible for them ever to fall from it.

So great is this commandment, that could the Divine Will ever extend it to the lost they would be saved; and the whole blessedness of Heaven depends upon it. Blessed for ever be He Who has made that whereon all His creatures’ happiness depends to be their first and chiefest duty!

Is “the Law is not made for a righteous man”? because he needs it not, but seeks to do God’s Will from instinctive love, how much more must the saints in Heaven be exempt from all law, their rejoicing in the Supreme Goodness and Beauty of their Beloved being, as it were, a blessed necessity to them! In Heaven we shall love God, not as bound thereto by the law, but irresistibly impelled and attracted by the joy with which His exceeding Loveliness fills us; and then the power of precept will yield to the power of satisfaction, which is the climax and fulfilment of the command, The commandment laid on us in this mortal life prepares us for that fulness of satisfaction in eternity; and it is an imperative law, and by its observance alone can the citizens of the Militant Jerusalem attain to the freedom of the triumphant City, the Heavenly Jerusalem. There our hearts will be free from passion, our soul purged from all distraction, our spirits loosed from trammels, our inclinations all good and holy, and like the four beasts we read of in the Revelation, the blessed ones will “serve God day and night.” Who can conceive the joy and gladness of that ceaseless service, that perpetual rest? “Blessed are they that dwell in Thy House; they will be alway praising Thee.” '

But we may not aspire to such perfect love in this life; neither heart, soul, spirit, or strength here are equal to it. We must be content to love with all the strength we have. “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child”; but when I become a perfected soul in Paradise, I shall be free from the shortcomings of childhood, and shall love God perfectly. Meanwhile, during our spiritual childhood, let us not fail to do whatever God has commanded. We can do it, and, moreover, it is not hard, for His Commandment is Love.

When we say “all” we except nothing; yet the man who has given himself wholly to God may none the less “be all things” to his parents, his king, his country, his family, and his friends, and this because the duty which he owes to the one need in nowise clash with that which concerns the rest.

It is by love that a man gives himself; and the more he loves, the more entire the gift. So he who loves God’s Goodness above all things gives himself wholly to God. And having thus given himself, nothing should prevail to draw his heart from God; nor can any affection do so save such as is unlawful and contrary to God’s Will. Sarah made no objection to Ishmael’s being Isaac’s companion until he mocked her son ;3 and God permits man to cherish other affections so long as they do not infringe on the reverence due to Him.

In Heaven God will give Himself wholly to us, even

‘Ps. lxxxiv. 4. ? 1 Cor. xiii. 11. 3 Gen. xxi. 9. as He is One and Undivided; yet He will give Himself variously to the innumerable blessed ones around Him. And we shall give ourselves to Him in like manner, for we shall see Him Face to face’ in all His Beauty, and love Him Heart to heart. Nevertheless all will not see with the same perception, or love with the same degree of intensity, but to each it will be “as it is prepared of the Father.” All will be filled with the fulness of Divine Love, but the capacity of each will vary. All honey is sweet, but Narbonne honey is held to be more luscious and perfumed than any other kind. I do homage to my prince, and likewise to his officer, who is my superior; but the homage is different in kind, albeit neither interferes with the other. Nor if in Heaven, where the precept “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart” is perfectly fulfilled, diverse degrees of love are found, need we marvel to find the same on earth? Nor is it only that of those who love God heartily—some love Him more, some less; the same man may at times increase wondrously in his power of love, so to say surpassing himself. The great painter Apelles varied in the beauty of his works, and while always studying to portray Alexander nobly, there were times when his efforts were more earnest and more successful than at others. Assuredly the Love of God is a saintly science in which we may advance, and the “latter end” should be more abundant than the beginning.

In the language of Holy Scripture, to do anything “with all the heart” simply means doing it wholly and unreservedly: “With my whole heart have I sought Thee ;” “I call with my whole heart ;”? yet though we read that David, who spake thus, was “a man after God’s Own Heart,” we also read of Hezekiah that “after him was none like him among all the kings of Judah, nor any that were before him.”3 And again, it is written of Josiah that “there was no king before him that turned to the Lord with all his heart, and with all his soul,and with all his might. . . neither after him arose there any like him.”' All three loved God with their whole heart, yet not after the same manner, according to the sacred text, which says of each that “there was none like him.” It is obvious that David’s love itself varied greatly in degree, and that the “clean heart” which God “renewed in” him? was more fervently devoted to the Lord than his earlier heart and mind had been.

All true lovers are alike in this, that they give their hearts to God “with all their strength ;” but they are unlike in that they all give that heart after their several degrees, more or less perfectly. One gives it in mar-active, another in perpetual virginity, in poverty, in active service, in devotion to pastoral work; and while all do their best, some attain to more, some to less, eminent perfection.

Jacob was beloved of God, yet he himself says that he served Laban “with all his power”³ for love of Rachel. He served Laban and loved Rachel with all his might, and he served the Lord with all his might too, but nevertheless he did not love them alike. He loved God above all things, above himself; but he loved Rachel above all other women, and as himself. His love of God was supreme, his love of Rachel the highest possible wedded love, and the one was in nowise contrary to the other.

The value of our love of God, then, depends upon the pre-eminence of the motive which rules it, upon our loving Him as God. And one drop of this love is worth more than all other possible love of angels or men; and so long as it reigns in the heart it will produce a universal, unalterable, unreserved submission to and preference for God’s Will above all else.

1 2 Kings xxiii. 25. * Ps. li. 10.

King Solomon had many wives and concubines, according to Oriental custom, but he had one, called in the Canticles, his dove, his only one, to whom all the rest bowed in homage." And the various degrees which these women occupied in his palace may be taken as typical of the various degrees of perfection with which souls are destined to love and serve the Lord Jesus Christ. Some there are yet novices in virtue, having only just shaken off the yoke of sin, and though firmly resolved to love God, still weak and unformed, so that sundry extraneous and dangerous affections mingle with their love for Him. And as the young phoenix, first rising from the ashes which gave it birth, can take but feeble flight with its half-fledged plumage, so these new-born souls, issuing from their penitential ashes, cannot as yet take full wing in holy love, being restrained, as they are, by a multitude of evil tendencies and habits formed by their past careless lives. They are indeed living souls, and kindled with true love, or they had not come out of sin; but their love as yet is young and frail, and, overshadowed by sundry other loves, it cannot bear fruit as though it were in sole possession of the heart.

Of such was the Prodigal son, when, forsaking the swine he tended, he came to his father, half-naked, and soiled by his contact with those unclean beasts. For what is it to forsake the swine but to leave off sin; and what is that ragged, foul state but the lingering of sinful desires and habits? But nevertheless the Prodigal possessed that life of the soul which is love, and like the phoenix rising from its ashes, he came to a new life: “He was dead, and is alive again.” Such souls are typified by the damsels spoken of in the Song of Solomon, who, drawn by the “savour of good ointments” of the Bridegroom, really love Him, but with a childish love, and are easily distracted by trifles and worldly pleasures. Such matters are not grievously opposed to God’s Will, not being mortal sins; but neither are they in conformity to it, and they tend to neglect and forgetfulness of it.

Other souls there are, which, having made great progress in Divine Love, and having overcome their attachment to what is wrong and dangerous, are yet hampered by useless, harmful attachment to objects which claim a legitimate degree of love. For instance, it was God’s Will that Adam should love Eve, but not that he should love her so excessively as to disobey: God in order to please her, in doing which he was not guilty of loving an unlawful object, but of loving a lawful one unduly. Love of parents, friends, etc., is enjoined us by God Himself, but it ceases to be in conformity to His Will when carried to excess.

Attachment to a vocation, or to spiritual exercises, excellent in itself, may be carried to excess if these are preferred to obedience or to any greater good, or if the heart stops short in them, as though they were the end rather than the means towards our true end, God’s Love. Those souls which give way to an inordinate affection for even such things as God wills them to love, may love Him above all things, but not in all things, since their affection is not grounded on the motives He sets before them; and herein they are like the newly-fledged phoenix, which is unable to sustain a prolonged flight, and often alights on the earth for rest. Such was the young man who, having kept the Commandments from his youth up, was guiltless of coveting other men’s goods, but clung to his own with undue eagerness, so that when our Lord bade him sell all and give to the poor, he went away sorrowful. He loved nothing but what he had a right to love, only he loved it unduly. Such souls are far from deficient in love, but it is ill regulated; and while they are admitted to union with the Heavenly Solomon, it is not as true brides, because their undue affection for lawful things distracts them from loving all solely in Him and for Him.

There are certain souls which only love that which is permitted of God, and which love such objects only as He permits. Happy souls indeed, who love their friends in God, and their foes for God! They love many others besides God, but nothing save in and for Him. They not only love Him above all things, but in all things, and all things in Him. And such as these are like the perfected phoenix, which is never seen save on the wing, or on the highest mountain-tops. Whatever else such souls love, God is first and foremost, and all other affections cluster round His Love as their centre. S. Luke tells us of one whom the Lord called to follow Him, who, cleaving more to his home than his Master, asked to go and take leave of his family, when our Lord warned him against such ill-regulated love, bidding him care most for the advancement of God’s Kingdom. Such are the souls which, by reason of their close union with the Bridegroom, share in His Glory, and reign as queens with Him. But beyond all these there is a yet higher degree of love, as seen in that “only one” who not only loves God above all things, and all things in Him, but who loves Him only in all else, so that He is the Sole Object of love. And forasmuch as that soul seeks

Matt. xix. 16-22, Luke ix. 59-62.

Him only in all affections, it loves Him equally everywhere, independently of all except His Holy Will.

If Ahasuerus loves Esther only for herself, why should he love her more when adorned and perfumed than in her ordinary attire? If I love my Saviour for Himself alone, how should I not love Him as well on Calvary as on Mount Tabor, since it is He Himself I find on both? Wherefore should I not say of either, “It is good to be here”? I love the Infant Saviour sojourning in Egypt, although I love not Egypt; wherefore should I not love Him when banqueting with Simon the leper, without loving the banquet? And if I love Him amid the blasphemies poured on Him on the Cross, without loving these blasphemies, why should I not love Him amid Magdalene’s perfumes, without cleaving to their sweet savour? The true sign of loving God in all things is when we love Him equally in all things, since, inasmuch as He is always the same, the inequality of our love must proceed from somewhat which is not God. This true Bride of whom we speak does not love her Lord more as Supreme Ruler of the universe than were He wholly | apart from it; she is indifferent to all that is not Himself. Paradise itself were not Paradise without Him; and did He offer no such reward to love, this true Bride would love Him no less. He is as dear to her hanging on the Cross as glorified in Heaven. But souls which have attained to such perfect love are so few that they are spoken of as “the only one of her mother,”' i.e. of God’s Providence; “the only dove,” “the undefiled,” perfect, because love identifies them with the Bridegroom, Who is Perfect: “I am my Beloved’s, and His desire is toward me.”

Surely none save the Blessed Virgin herself ever attained to the highest perfection of this love, but other souls have advanced so far in it as to deserve the title of queen, only dove, perfect in the Beloved. How can we but say so of David when crying out, “Whom have I in Heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire in comparison of Thee;” or S. Paul, “Counting all things but dung, that I may win Christ;” or saints such as Augustine, Bernard, the two Catherines, and other like, whose cry was, “My God and my All!” Rare and blessed souls, which all our earthly symbols fail to set forth, even the phoenix itself! Surely nought save the bird of paradise, which never alights on the earth, but ever floats in the sky, can be a fit type of these, who love no created object save in the Creator, and He in it. Their love (for love they do) finds God in His creation, and they love Him in the works of His Hands, even as the pearl-fisher, who, while he takes up the shell, takes it not for its own sake, but for the pearl it contains.

The Blessed Virgin alone was endowed with such love, unchanging, unutterable; no other can be stationary, but must needs be advancing or falling back. Those souls which are yet cumbered with many idle and perilous affections are often stimulated to a higher, purer love; and those which have attained to the more perfect standard are liable to drop, relax their hold through human imperfection, and to be guilty of serious venial sin, as we may perceive by the bitter dissensions which sometimes prevail even among God’s true servants, nay, did occur among the very Apostles, who were not free from the like infirmities. But forasmuch as such souls ordinarily cleaved to God in real, pure love, we may not doubt that their love was perfect; for just as we see that though good trees may bear fruit which is worm-eaten or blighted, they never can bear poisonous fruit, so such saints may indeed be guilty of unprofitable, ill-judged, unseemly acts, but never of mortal sin. So we must acknowledge that the trees are good, albeit some of their fruit is bad. Even the “just man falleth seven times,” but he “riseth up again.”

Ps. Lxxiii. 24. Phil. iii. 8. Prov. xxiv. 16.

Various as the degrees of love may be, there is nevertheless but one law of love which is binding alike in all, although it be so infinitely varied in its manner of fulfilment. Probably there are no two human souls on earth, no two angels in Heaven, possessing a precisely similar measure of love; and as “one star differeth from another star in glory,” so among the blessed in the Resurrection each one will have “anew name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.”¹ But amid this diversity let us examine what that degree of love is which is always unchangingly incumbent on all.

It strikes me as almost a providential circumstance that in the ordinary version of Holy Scripture authorised by the Council of Trent the precept of love is expressed by the word “dilection” rather than “love ;” for whereas dilection is love, it is something more, i.e. a love combining choice and delight, as S. Thomas points out that its philology indicates. God’s precept enjoins a supreme and select love, even as the Beloved is “the chiefest among ten thousand,”? a love which must overrule all other loves and passions. The love of God must needs be deeper seated in the heart than any other, overflowing the soul above all other affections, the most absorbing of every faculty and power. And forasmuch as thereby we choose God as the highest Object of our being, it may be rightly called the supreme choice of love, or the choice of supreme love.

There are various kinds of love, paternal, filial, social, dependent, each so adapted to its special object a

—_ “cannot be appropriated to another. Fraternal love is not suitably bestowed on a parent, nor does “a man love his wife after the fashion he loves his father, or his son as he loves his servant. Love varies, like honour. Supreme honour appertains to supreme excellence, supreme love to supreme goodness. The Love of God is without compare, because there is none good as He: “The Lord our God is One Lord, and thou shalt love Him with all thine heart,” etc." It is this supreme dilection or delight which raises Him above all other loves, and causes us to desire to please Him beyond all else. And whosoever loves God thus will devote his whole soul and strength to God, preferring His Grace to the whole world. Such supreme love is enjoined on all men severally and generally, as necessary to salvation.

A man does not always see plainly, save by the certainty of faith, whether he possesses this necessary love, but he will always find sufficient indications of it, of which the surest, perhaps, is to be seen when some strong creature love comes into collision with God’s Will. Then, if a man is possessed by the love of God, it will not fail to assert its power over his will, not merely unrivalled, but solitary, checking and rejecting whatever might be opposed to His Will.

When the fallen angels rebelled against God, the Archangel Michael, the prince of the angels, cried out, “Who is as God ?” and overthrew them, his very name signifying “Who is as God?” So when the things of this world draw us away, God’s Love, if it prevail in the heart, comes to the contest like another S. Michael, . and conquers the foe, crying out, “Who is as God?” What is there in creature love fit to attract the heart from the Sovereign Goodness of God?

When Joseph perceived that he could not please his mistress without sinning against his master, he said, “How can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?” God’s Love supreme above all.

Sarah gave her handmaid Hagar to Abraham according to Oriental custom, and until Hagar began to despise Sarah he showed no special preference between them; but so soon as the two affections came into collision it was plain which he loved best. Divine Love permits us to entertain other affections, and up to a certain point it may not seem clear which is strongest in the heart; yet directly that any opposition arises between the two he who really loves God will unhesitatingly take His side, and subject all other love to His.

There is a wide difference, in things spiritual as in things natural, between outward show and real worth. One of Cleopatra’s pearls was worth more than the weightiest of stones, however large. A monarch’s glory I should call greater when won in the field, and better when won by powers of administration; drums and trumpets make the loudest sound, the harp and lute the sweeter melody. An ounce of incense will not cause so powerful an odour as a pound of musk, but it will be far sweeter and better.

You may see a mother so rapt up in her babe that she seems to be capable of no other thought, even for her husband; but if it became a question of losing one or the other, it would soon appear that, albeit her maternal love was the tenderest and most demonstrative, the love of her husband was deeper and stronger. Even so when a man loves God truly he will give the preference to His Will in all things, he will leave all else to hold fast to God’s Grace; and even if his heart ordinarily seem less moved by Divine Love than by other affections, when occasion arises it will call forth a vigour of action worth all the rest. The rabbit breeds with a marvellous rapidity, whereas the elephant produces but one foal, but that one is worth more than all the other's progeny. So earthly affections may make a great show, but the one act of sacred love is so perfect as to exceed them all, for it means an unreserved preference of God above all creation.

The strength of this love of God may well be great, for it must exceed all affections, conquer all difficulties, and desire God’s favour beyond all things, and that absolutely and unreservedly. I say this advisedly, because there are people who would give up property, fame, and life itself for our Lord’s Sake, who nevertheless are not prepared to offer some special thing of much less importance to Him.

To illustrate my meaning by an example. In the time of the Emperors Valerian and Gallus two friends inhabited Antioch, who were so closely bound together | as to count themselves brothers. At length, however, some difference marred this friendship, and as is wont in such a case, it turned to a bitter hatred, until after a while Nicephorus (who was a layman) confessed himself in the wrong, and made three several attempts at reconciliation, which attempts Sapricius the priest rejected scornfully, even when Nicephorus went so far as to cast himself at his feet and implore forgiveness. In course of time a sore persecution arose, - in which Sapricius endured all manner -of torments for the faith without flinching, and was finally condemned to die. Being led out to execution, Nicephorus ran to meet him, and prostrating himself before the intended martyr, repeatedly intreated his pardon. But his intreaties were ignored by Sapricius. The very executioners marvelled, and asked why he was so foolish as thus to persist in asking the forgiveness of one just about to die? “Ye know not what I ask of him who thus confesses Christ Crucified,” he answered, “but God knows.” So he persisted till the very last moment, crying out, “Give, and it shall be given unto you!” But the hard heart was not melted, and Sapricius, who thus showed no mercy to his brother, lost the glorious palm of martyrdom, for, his courage failing, he cried out for delay, and finally offered to sacrifice to the heathen gods. Then Nicephorus with tears besought him not to forfeit the crown he had so nearly won; but Sapricius had forgotten the Divine words, “If thou bring thy gift before the altar, and there remember that thy brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift before the altar, and first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift,” and so his offering was rejected, and he lost his crown. But the meek Nicephorus, deeply moved at the sight, cried out that he was a Christian, and claimed the martyrdom which his friend rejected. So the one was set free and the other beheaded; all which befell February 7th, A.D. 260, as recorded by Metaphrastes. And we should do well to ponder how Sapricius, although he had manfully endured divers torments, and willingly offered his life, yet would not sacrifice his enmity towards Nicephorus as God willed him to do, and therefore failed thus miserably when the victory was all but won, thereby teaching us that it is not enough to love God more than life itself, unless we love Him wholly, and in all things whatsoever without reservation. True, our Lord has said, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends ;” yet of a truth, while this is the climax of love, there are many other seemingly easier, more ordinary actions which are essential to the perfection of a true love of God. How could Sapricius dare to say that he loved God aright, when that love could not prevail over the hatred he felt for one of God’s creatures? Verily, to die for Christ may be the greatest, but it is far from the only proof of love for God; and he who affects that, to the exclusion of other acts, sets forth rather vanity than love. Love is never inconsistent; but it were the height of inconsistency to pretend to please Him we love in great things, while indifferent to His Pleasure in smaller matters. How can he die for love of God who is not willing to live according to His Will?

Theoretically, he who is ready to die for his friend would doubtless be ready to bear all else for him, inasmuch as he who regards not death might be supposed to be indifferent to all other matters; but so perverse and inconsistent is man, that sometimes he would rather sacrifice life itself than his empty, foolish whims. When Agrippina was told that her son would one day be Emperor, but that being so he would kill her, she replied, “I heed it not, so long as he may but reign!” Cato and Cleopatra both chose death rather than to witness their enemies triumph in capturing them, and Lucretia killed herself sooner than seem guilty of a sin she had not committed. There are many men who would die for their friends, yet nevertheless would not live to serve them, or yield to their will. Some men would rather hazard life than fortune; and while not a few are willing to risk that life for their friends, there are few that would sacrifice reputation for another.

From the first moment Jacob met Rachel by the well, the faithfulness and depth of his love for her knew no bounds. Seven weary years of service he counted as nought for the great love he bore her; and having won her, he served yet seven more gladly as her further price, despising Leah for her sake, although God blessed his union with her more fruitfully than that with Rachel. Yet judging by the circumstances told in Holy Scripture of Rachel’s bartering her husband’s affections against Reuben’s mandrakes, it would not seem that the strength of her affection at all equalled Jacob’s. And surely in like manner we often make the most unworthy choice! S. Augustine took great pains to discover wherein the great attraction of those mandrakes lay, but came to the conclusion that, though fair to look at, they were poor tasteless things. And Pliny tells us that the surgeons of his time were wont to stupefy their patients with the juice of mandrakes before operating, whence we may conclude that it is a plant which fascinates and dulls the senses and passions by sleep. Moreover, he who long inhales it becomes dumb; he who drinks too large a draught will die. What better type of worldly pomp, riches, and pleasures? They are fair to look on, but wish tastes finds no satisfaction or delight; yet ‘their perfume intoxicates and bewitches, and they who drink too freely are numbed and stupefied. Yet for such mandrakes, such mere phantasmagoria, men forsake the love of their Heavenly Master! How can we say that we love Him above all things, when we prefer such worldly vanities to His Grace?

Is it not a strange thing to behold David, who so nobly triumphed over hate and wrong, fall so lamentably before sensual temptations as to seduce Uriah’s wife, and even to commit murder in pursuit of his passion? Who would not marvel to see S. Peter boldly defying the band of soldiers who came to seize his Master, alone of all the disciples drawing his sword upon them, yet a few hours later denying that Master for fear of a maidservant? Nor, if we remember how Adam and Eve rejected God’s Grace for the sake of an apple, need it seem so strange a thing for Rachel to value the mandrakes more than Jacob’s love.

It is the note of heresy that the heretic picks and chooses such articles of faith as it suits him to accept, ignoring the rest; whereas the Catholic accepts all alike without exception, because they are the faith of the Church. Just so with the principles of love. He is a heretic in Divine Love who chooses to obey some of God’s Commandments, rejecting others. He Who said, “Do not commit adultery,” also said, “Do not kill. Now if thou commit no adultery, yet if thou kill, thou art become a transgressor of the law,”' and that because thou dost not abstain from lust out of love of God, but for some motive of thine own. What should I say of one who told me he forbore to cut off my arm for the love he bare me, yet at the same time put out my eye, or pierced me with his sword? It is a first principle that good can only come from a perfect source, whereas evil may proceed from one which is but in part bad. Thus an act of real love must issue from a full, whole affection embracing all God’s Commandments, and if we lack in love for any one of them our love is not real, nor the heart whence it springs true.

Me ought to {lobe Gon far more than Durgelves. A RISTOTLE has well said, that while goodness is always attractive, each man prefers his own virtue, and his love for others springs from that which he bears to himself. A philosopher who neither knew nor loved God could see no farther; yet it is true that the love of God precedes all self-love, even in the natural tendency of the will, as was demonstrated in Book I.

Man’s will is so entirely moulded and consecrated to goodness, that it follows in a natural sequence that when Infinite Goodness is plainly set before it that Goodness claims its supreme love. Thus the blessed are under a necessity, though not one of violence, to love God when they behold His Sovereign Beauty, as we learn from Holy Scripture speaking of the rivers of delight which make glad the City of God. But we poor mortals on earth are not so constrained to love Him, because we see Him not so clearly. In Heaven we shall behold Him Face to face, i.e. every one, according to his capacity, will gaze upon His Infinite Beauty, and be rapt in an extasy of love which we neither would nor could resist. But here the faint glimpses which reach us invite, without compelling, us to love Him more than self; nay, rather, while possessing this holy inclination to love Him above all things, we have not strength to carry it out unless God grants us a supernatural supply of His most Holy. Love.

Nevertheless it is true, that as the clear sight of the Divinity infallibly produces the need to love Him more than self, so the perception, or natural knowledge thereof, infallibly produces a tendency to the same. How should that will which is created to love what is good come ever so little face to Face with its Sovereign Good and not feel drawn to love it above all else? Our will always is instinctively attracted to that which is most infinite, and the disproportion between the infinite and finite is so great, that when once we recognise the former we are irresistibly drawn to prefer it to all other love, even that which is selfish. And this attraction is the stronger in that we are more God’s than our own, and cannot realise what He is and what we are without crying out, Lord, I am Thine only; soul

-_—— will, affection, all is Thine, and reacheth only to Thee. Thou art my First Cause, my Last End; without Thee I cannot exist, I must love Thee more than myself, since I am Thine and in Thee alone.

Were there any Sovereign Goodness of which we were independent, so long as it was possible to unite ourselves thereto by love, we should tend to love it more than ourselves, because such infinite sweetness would have more power to attract the will than all other things, ourselves included. Or, to suppose an impossibility, were there some Infinite Goodness wholly extraneous to us with which ultimate communication were possible, we should prize it more than ourselves, because, being infinite, its attractions would always have more power to win us than all that is conceivable besides. But this could not touch the will, only the desire, and therefore it would not produce real love, which implies union. I only speak of this somewhat metaphysical point with a view to certain visionaries who are apt to disturb themselves greatly with idle imaginations. We know that as rational men we must needs love God better than ourselves, and as true Christians we must obey this inclination. Be it ours to love Him Who is more to us than all the world, more than self can ever be, better than self or aught beside.

God made man in His Own Image and Likeness, and in like manner He has given a precept of love between men which is also an image and likeness of Divine Love: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” Wherefore do we love God? S. Bernard answers that the cause of our love for God is God Himself, He being the very Essence of all goodness. Why should we love ourselves? Because we are made in His Image; and forasmuch as all men share this privilege, we are bound to love all as ourselves, i.e. as living and sacred images of God. It is from this point of view that we behold our weak selves so closely and tenderly bound to God that He vouchsafes to call Himself our Father and us His children. It is through this that we are capable of union with Him, of receiving His Grace, and of becoming “partakers of the Divine Nature,” as S. Peter says. And thus the same charity which produces acts of the love of God similarly produces acts of love to our neighbour. Like Jacob’s ladder, whereby the angels descended as well as ascended, one and the same dilection raises us to union with God, and brings us back to loving sympathy with men. And thus we love our neighbour because he is the image and likeness of God, created in order to be the object of Divine Goodness, to share in His Grace and Glory.

He, then, that loves his neighbour in charity loves God in man and man in God; he loves God alone for His Own Sake, and man for God’s Sake. When Tobias was led by the Angel Raphael to the house of Raguel, the latter, looking upon him, forthwith exclaimed, “How like is this young man to Tobit my cousin! And Raguel asked them, From whence are ye, brethren? To whom they said, We are of the sons of Nephthalim, which are captives in Nineve. Then he said to them, Do ye know Tobit our kinsman? And they said, We know him. Then said he, Is he in good health? And they said, He is both alive and in good health. And Tobias said, He is my father. Then Raguel leaped up, and kissed him, and wept, and blessed him, and said unto him, Thou art the son of an honest and good man. But when he had heard that Tobit was blind, he was sorrowful, and wept. And likewise Edna his wife and Sara his daughter wept.”

Before knowing who he was Raguel felt kindly towards Tobias, because of his likeness to his father; and afterwards he blessed him, not for his own sake, but because he was “the son of an honest and good man.”

And truly, when we remember that our neighbour is made in God’s Image and Likeness, ought we not like Raguel to dwell upon that Likeness as a cause of love; and that not for his own sake, but for the Sake of God, Who has vouchsafed to impart His Own Likeness to His creature, who is made in, for, and by Him? Nor does Divine Love merely enjoin the love of our neighbour, but actually produces it, and fills man’s heart with it; so that, even as man is God’s Image and Likeness, all holy love of man for man is a true image and likeness of his love for God. Verily, this is a subject which calls for a work specially upon it, and this perfection of love for God combines a perfect love of our brethren.

Just as love ever seeks the welfare of the object beloved, rejoicing in it when present, seeking it when deficient; so does it generate that aversion which shuns all evil which might befall the beloved object, and seeks to avert or conquer it. This warm love, intent on the welfare of its object, we call zeal, which is neither more nor less than ardent love. If that love be good, so is the zeal which it kindles; if the love be perverted, so will the zeal be. Jealousy is a manner of zeal, the chief difference being, that whereas zeal considers nothing but the need of averting whatever might injure the beloved object, jealousy thinks most of hindering anything that can interfere with its individual satisfaction in that object.

When men bestow ardent love on earthly things— beauty, honour, rank, or riches—such zeal or ardent love is wont to degenerate into envy, because all such worldly concerns are so mean, low, personal, and finite, that the possession by one impairs the possession of another, and in proportion as they are divided among many there remains less for each. Or when a man passionately desires exclusive affection, his ardent zeal becomes jealousy, because our human frailty is inevitably beset with such imperfection that when friendship is shared among many there remains less for each. And so we cannot endure rivals; and if any appear, jealousy is at once kindled, which, albeit resembling envy, is yet a very different thing. Thus envy is always unjust, but jealousy may be just, if not excessive, as, e.g., in married people, who have a right to object to any inroad upon their mutual affection. Again, envy repines at seeing another equally fortunate with itself, albeit one loses nothing thereby; but jealousy does not grudge another’s good things, so long as they do not infringe upon our own rights, e.g., the jealous man cares not whose affections his neighbour wins, provided his own love be not meddled with. There is no rivalry until he becomes doubtful whether the beloved object is not partly won; whatever he may have felt before was envy, not jealousy. Again, envy does not imply detraction of its object; on the contrary, we invest him with all the merits which we envy, but we despise the man of whom we are jealous, and esteem him as vile and fickle.

Jealousy springs from love, envy from a want thereof. Jealousy has special reference to love, but envy extends to all manner of temporal advantages. We may envy others for being loved, but in such a case the real exciting cause is not the love they win, but the advantages accruing from it. A courtier is

not often jealous of his rival’s favour with their prince so long as that favour is not expressed in the shape of temporal gain, honour, or wealth.

“Whose Name is Jealous.” What manner of jealousy is this? At first sight it seems somewhat like the jealousy of husband and wife, for God would have us so wholly His as to belong to no one else. “No man can serve two masters.” He demands the whole heart, and soul, and mind, and strength. He calls Himself the Bridegroom of the Soul, and speaks of unfaithfulness to Himself as fornication and adultery. And inasmuch as He has the fullest right to such poor love as our unworthiness can offer, surely we had needs give Him all we have to offer. Supremely good, He has a claim to supremest love, and supreme love must be whole and undivided.

But this jealousy of God’s is not sensual; it is a pure friendship, in which our interests, not His, are concerned. Our love is only valuable to Him for our sake, and He delights to impart His Love to men without receiving any benefit thereby. Hear His generous, tender jealousy as expressed in the words, “My people .. . have forsaken Me, the Fountain of Living Waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.”3_ He complains not for His Own Sake; wherein is the Fountain of Living Water the worse if men draw not of its life giving stream? But He sorrows over His people, who forsake Him to their own destruction. Whatever is taken from man’s love to God is man’s own loss, and therefore He pleads earnestly for our love.

“Set Me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm,” the Heavenly Bridegroom says to the Bride.' Her heart, indeed, was full of love for Him; but in His holy jealousy He seeks to seal it up so that nothing be spread abroad, neither anything extraneous find admittance, for He can tolerate no rival—her love must be His, wholly and alone. And because He demands not only the heart and its affections, but the life and its actions, He will have His seal upon the arm, to pledge it absolutely in all its work to His service. Love, He goes on to say, is strong as death; for just as death forcibly separates the soul from everything, even the body itself, so love, when ardent, separates the soul from all other affections, and purges it of all impurities. And therefore love is not only strong as death, but “cruel as the grave,” i.e. inexorable in punishing the wrong done by any share given to a rival, however slight. The meek dove becomes furious when his jealousy over his mate is roused. You may see him lighting near her, murmuring, cooing, and striking her with his wings when another bird has been near, albeit she has given him no cause to complain.

David, after being forgiven his grievous sin, in consequence of the fervent love shown in his penitence, was severely punished for what might seem to us the comparatively venial sin of numbering his people. Nowhere do we find this jealousy more clearly and delicately defined than by S. Catherine of Genoa in speaking of the specialities of pure love. When perfect love is jealous, she says, it can bear no intrusion or participation, not even of God’s Own Gifts; its very longing after Paradise is in order to be closer to His Goodness Who sets eternal bliss before it. Such love is a lamp wherein is nought save bright fire and flame, which no floods can drown, and they who abide stedfast with these lamps burning, experience the holy fear of a pure bride, not the shrinking fear of a faithless wife. ‘Their fear is altogether diverse, S. Augustine says: the one fears her husband’s absence, the other his presence; the one dreads his departure, the other his appearance; the one is jealous, by reason of her exceeding love, the other is not jealous, because she does not love; the one fears punishment, the other fears nothing save any lack of love. Not that she really fears to be unloved, as they do who think only of themselves, but she fears lest she herself fail worthily to love Him Who can never receive His due meed of love from His creatures; and thus her love is not selfish, but noble and generous, a love which flows on to those around. For if we love our neighbour as ourselves for God’s Sake, we shall be jealous of Him also for God’s Sake, even as we are jealous over ourselves, and in that spirit we should be ready to die for His Sake. But forasmuch as zeal is a very ardent passion, it needs to be wisely and cautiously dealt with, else it easily oversteps its due limits, and then zeal turns to anger, and lawful affection to unjustifiable passion. But to enter upon a complete analysis of zeal would carry me beyond my bounds, and I will only observe here that those who are zealously inclined will do well to consult those set over them in the Lord before they let their lives be moulded by zeal.

A certain painter, having been commissioned to draw a horse at full speed, represented him lying on his back with his legs in the air. When the person who had given the commission remonstrated, the artist reversed his picture, pointing out that thus the animal appeared to be at full speed. If you want to see of what sort your jealousy for God should be, reflect how far you are jealous over earthly matters, and then reverse the picture, and you will discover what God requires for Himself.

Take as an illustration the light of the sun and of a little lamp. They who enjoy the sun’s light are in nowise envious or jealous of one another, for they know that there is enough for all, that one man’s gain is no loss to another, and that each enjoys it as thoroughly as though no one else shared in the welcome rays. But when it comes to a little lamp, each man would fain appropriate the light to himself, and he who gets possession is envied by his fellows. Earthly advantages are so mean and poor that he who attains them must do so at the expense of other men; even human affection is so frail that what is given to one is more or less taken from another, and so we are jealous and impatient of rivals or fellows.

God’s Love is so boundless and beneficent that all creation may bask in its warmth without any one lessening the portion of another; it is inexhaustible, although it fills the universe, and when all is full it is still whole and undiminished. The sun’s rays light up that rose you gaze upon as though the millions of other flowers it expands did not exist, and God sheds His Love on the individual soul as though there were none other the work of His Hand, neither does the outpouring of His Love diminish its inexhaustible, infinite wellspring."

But wherein lies that jealous zeal which it behoves us to cherish for God? First of all, in hating, shunning, hindering, and doing battle as far as lies in our power against whatever is in any way opposed to His Will, His Glory, or the sanctification of His Name: “It grieveth me when I see the transgressors, because they keep not Thy law;” “As for lies, I hate and abhor them;” “Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate Thee, and am not I grieved with those that rise up against Thee?" “Mine eyes gush out with water, because men keep not Thy law;”² “My zeal hath even consumed me, because mine enemies have forgotten Thy words;” “I would root out all wicked doers from the city of the Lord.” Such was zeal³ as David felt it. He not only grieved, but his grief consumed him; he would fain root out whatever was displeasing to God. And in the same spirit of zeal Phinehas took a javelin and thrust through the Israelite and his companion in sin of whom we read in the Old Testament. And even such was the zeal for His Father’s House which led our Saviour Himself to drive out thence those who profaned it with their commerce.®

Next, godly zeal kindles an exceeding jealousy in us for the purity of other souls; e.g. S. Paul telling the Church of Corinth, “I am jealous over you with godly jealousy; for I have espoused you to one Husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ.” Even as Eliezer had been jealous over the purity of Rebecca when he was taking her to be his master’s bride, so S. Paul was jealous over his converts, not for his own sake, but for God’s Sake, on Whose behalf he dealt with them. For them his solicitude led him to say, “I die daily;” and again, “Who is weak, and I am not weak? who is offended, and I burn not?” Remember our Lord’s own illustration of the hen’s jealous care of her young. No animal is more timid till she is a mother; but once let her have her brood to guard, and she becomes bold as a lion, with watchful eye and alert step mounting guard over them, and ready to fly at the most unequally-matched foe if they are in peril. Such is the jealous zeal of parent for child, of pastor for his flock, of brother for brother. . How jealous Jacob’s sons were for the honour of their sister Dinah; or Job, lest his children might have sinned; or S. Paul for his kinsmen according to the flesh, on whose behalf he could even wish himself cast out; or Moses, asking that he might be blotted out of the Book of Life, if only his people might be forgiven!

It is the characteristic of human jealousy to fear lest the object of its love fall into the possession of another; but the only dread of zeal for God is lest we ourselves be not sufficiently possessed by Him. Human jealousy fears lest it be not sufficiently loved; Christian jealousy fears lest its own love be not sufficient. In this spirit the Bride of the Canticles cries out, “Tell me, O Thou Whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest, where Thou makest Thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of Thy companions?” She fears lest the “companions” should in any way distract her, and is stedfastly minded that the pleasures and honours of the world should not absorb one particle of that love which she has wholly consecrated to her Beloved Lord and

Saviour.

In proportion to the loving warmth and vehemence of zeal, so is the need that it be wisely guided, else it will easily outstep the limits of discretion. Not, of course, that the love of God, however fervent, can ever be too strong in itself, or in the impulse it gives to the mind; but it is wont to call in the use of the intellect and the passions to effect its object, and these are liable to act too vehemently, and so to hinder zeal, and make it unruly. We see an instance of this in Joab killing Absalom in spite of David’s stringent orders to save his life." In like manner zeal sometimes calls in the aid of anger, bidding it destroy the sin, yet spare the sinner; but passionate zeal, once roused, is like an unruly horse, who cannot be held by bit or bridle. So, again, the householder of whom our Lord tells, had to check the impetuous zeal of his servants, who would have rooted up the tares at the risk of rooting up the good grain also. Indignation is a strong, vigorous servant, capable of great things, but so eager and inconsiderate that it is wont to do more harm than good. Our peasants say that the peacock is a bad inmate, for although it will keep a place clear of spiders and the like, it spoils more than it saves. Anger is a natural reinforcement to reason, and grace uses it in support of zeal; but it is a dangerous ally, apt to get the upper hand and overthrow both reason and charity, and we are never safe or sure that it may not suddenly spread like a flame, and become destructive. It is indeed a desperate act to let a besieged city fall into the hands of one who may prove a master instead of an ally.

Self-love often deceives men, and disguises itself under the garb of zeal. Zeal has perhaps made some use of anger, and anger in its turn plays its own game under the name of zeal; under the name only, for, like all other virtues, the real thing itself cannot be used to any evil purpose.

A notorious sinner once cast himself at the feet of a holy priest, humbly seeking absolution, whereat a certain monk named Demophilus gave way to the fiercest indignation at the sight of such a penitent drawing so near the altar, and with blows and sharp words drove him thence, abusing the priest who would have received him, and removing the sacred vessels from the altar, which he held as desecrated. Demophilus proceeded next to write boastfully of what he had done to S. Denys the Areopagite, who answered him in a tone worthy of his teacher S. Paul, pointing out how indiscreet and unwise such zeal was, and illustrating his rebuke by the following instance. A Candian Christian had been won back to Paganism by one of his former friends, whereupon a certain pious man, Carpus by name, who appears to have been bishop of Candia, was so moved to wrath that he prayed to God to destroy both with the thunderbolts of His wrath. But the Lord opened his eyes in a vision, and he beheld heaven open, and Jesus Christ sitting on His Throne, surrounded with angels, and beneath the yawning gulf, on the edge of which stood the two men he had wished to overwhelm, trembling with fear, while certain men stood by striving to thrust them in. So great was Carpus’s wrath that, as he told S. Denys later on, he scarce cast a glance upon the Blessed Saviour and His company of angels, but gloated on the spectacle of those wretched men, whose fall he longed to hasten, till, raising his eyes, he beheld the All-pitying Saviour rise up and extend His Hand to those miserable beings, while the angels strove to draw them back. Then our Lord turned to Carpus, saying, “Smite Me rather, for gladly would I suffer anew to save men. Bethink thee whether thou wouldst choose to fall into that hellish gulf, or to abide with the angels.” Some men think there can be no zeal without anger, whereas true zeal rarely if ever employs it. The surgeon never uses his knife save in extreme necessity, and holy zeal never uses anger save in a like extreme moral need.

We read that Moses, Phinehas, Elijah, Mattathias, and other eminent servants of God, exercised a zealous wrath on sundry occasions; but then we must needs bear in mind that these were great men, who had full command over their anger, and knew how to control their passions, like the centurion in the Gospel, saying to one, “Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh.”? But we are of a very different sort, and have not the same empire over ourselves; our steed is not so trained that we can “volt and revolt”? at pleasure. A well-broken retriever will follow the game or hold back as his master bids, but a young dog is disobedient, and strays. Those great saints, who have subdued their passions by dint of long-practised virtues, are able to wield their wrath at will; but we, with our unruly, ill-trained impulses, dare not let anger loose, lest, once at large, we know not how to restrain it. S. Denys tells Demophilus, above mentioned, that he who would correct others must first give good heed that his wrath do not gain the mastery over his better self, and that it is vain to cite Phinehas or Elijah as examples, for our Lord Himself checked a like spirit even in His disciples. We all remember the circumstances to which S. Denys alludes—how Phinehas slew the impure,? and Elijah called down fire upon Ahaziah’s soldiers, in token that the Lord was King.‘As also our Saviour’s reply when James and John asked to be permitted to imitate Elijah, and destroy the Samaritan village which denied their Master entrance; “Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of,” thereby teaching that His zeal was mild and gracious, never exercising fierce wrath save when all other possible means were unavailing.

When that great master of theology S. Thomas Aquinas lay in his last sickness at Fosse-neuve, the Cistercian monks around asked him to expound the Canticles to them, as: S. Bernard had done. To which the Saint replied, “Dear fathers, give me the mind of S. Bernard, and I will expound the sacred words as he did!” Even so, if we poor weak Christians are called upon to put forth zealous wrath like those great saints we read of in the Scriptures, it behoves us to answer, “Give us their spirit and their light, and we will do as they did.” It is not every one that knows when or how to be angry.

Those holy men were under God’s immediate inspiration, and therefore they could exercise their wrath fearlessly, inasmuch as the same Spirit Which kindled restrained it within due limits. Such anger is not that “wrath of man” of which S. James says that it “worketh not the righteousness of God.”? Although S. Paul calls the Galatians “foolish,”3 and withstood S. Peter “to the face," is that any reason why we should sit in judgment on nations, censure and abuse our superiors? We are not so many S. Pauls! But bitter, sharp, hasty men not unfrequently give way to their own tempers and dislikes under the cloak of zeal, and are consumed of their own fire, falsely calling it from heaven. On one side an ambitious man would fain have us believe that he only seeks the mitre out of zeal for souls; on the other a harsh censor bids us accept his slanders and backbiting as the utterance of a zealous mind.

There are three forms which zeal may take: First, the vigorous action of justice in repressing evil; and this appertains solely to those whose avowed office it is to censure and correct, but unfortunately a good many persons who have no right to such office assume it. Secondly, earnest zeal performs striking actions for the sake of example, to remedy evil, and the like, courses open alike to all, but which few care to pursue. And thirdly, a very admirable form of zeal lies in patience and endurance with a view to hindering evil, but scarce any one is found to exercise this. Ambitious zeal is more popular, and men do not let themselves see that it is a mere veil to intolerance, self-seeking, and anger.

Our Dear Lord’s zeal was chiefly displayed in dying to conquer death and sin, wherein He was closely followed by His chosen vessel S. Paul, as S. Gregory Nazianzen well says, “He fights for all, prays for all, is jealous over all, burns for all; nay, more, for those who are his kinsmen in the flesh he could even wish himself accursed! O superabounding courage and zeal! fit copy of Christ, Who bore our griefs and carried our sorrows!” Even as our Lord bore the sins of the world, and died an accursed death for man, being all the while the Beloved Son of God, in Whom He was well pleased; so the Apostle was willing to bear all things, yet without ever willing to lose the Love of his Master, from which, he says, he knows nothing could ever separate him.' So, too, the Bride of the Canticles, affirming that love is strong as death, which separates body and soul, goes on to say that wrath (or jealousy) is cruel as the grave,’ for it is like to hell, which separates the soul from the sight of God, but it is nowhere said that love or zeal in anywise resemble sin, which alone separates us from God’s Grace. And indeed, how could ardent love desire such a separation, when love is very grace itself, or at least cannot exist without grace? We find a not unapt copy of S. Paul in S. Paulinus, who gave himself up to bondage in order to set another free.

’ Rom. viii. 39. ? Cant. viii. 6.

_ Blessed is he, says S. Ambrose, who knows. how. to control zeal! And S. Bernard says that the devil -will speedily mock a man’s zeal if it be not according to knowledge. Zeal must be kindled of charity, governed by knowledge, strengthened by faith. True zeal is the offspring and life of charity, and like charity is patient, kind, peaceful, free from hatred or bitterness, “rejoicing in the truth.”⁷ The action of true zeal is like that of an ardent sportsman, who is diligent, careful, active, and very stedfast in the chase, but without fretfulness or passion, for that would only hinder his pursuit. So true zeal is ardent, but gentle, stedfast, painstaking, and indefatigable, while its false semblance is noisy, proud, fierce, quarrelsome, and unabiding.

To sum up all that has been said concerning

Divine Love. ‘The Love of Christ constraineth us ;”? constraineth us by its infinite tenderness, exhibited throughout the work of our redemption, in which “the love and kindness of God our Saviour toward man appeared."* What, indeed, was too much _ for that Great Lover of our souls to do? - I. He loved us with the love of complacency, for - His “delights were with the children of men," even becoming man Himself. . . iI, He loved us with the love of benevolence, humbling Himself to our human nature that that “nature might be taken into God.

III. He formed so close and incomprehensible a _ union with man, that never was aught so closely ‘joined to humanity as the Godhead in the Person of the Son.

IV. He poured Himself into man, mingling His Greatness with our littleness, as a Fountain of living water, or the gracious dew of heaven.

V. His Love was extatic; not merely, as S. Denys says, because the very excess of His Loving-kindness took Him, so to say, out of Himself, but because, as S. Paul tells us, He annihilated Himself, forsaking His Own Glory to take our humanity, and raise us to the position of joint-heirs with Him. And He of Whom it is so often written “I live”? vouchsafed to say that He lived in man3—His Life hidden with man’s in God. He Who is all self-containing is contained by us; He Who from all eternity was in the Bosom of the Father as Man dwelt in the womb of an earthly mother; He Whose Life was Divine accepted a human life; He Who was eternally God became eternally man out of His exceeding Love of man.

VI. His Love, as instanced in the case of the Good Centurion and the Canaanite woman, was a Love of dilection.

VII. His Love for the young man who had kept all God’s Commandments, and sought after perfection, was a Love of contemplation.

VIII. His Love when in the Virgin’s womb, and during infancy, was the Love of quietude.

IX. The tenderness of His Love was shown when He took little children up in His Arms, towards Mary and Martha, over Lazarus’s grave, and weeping over the city of Jerusalem.

X. His Zeal was set forth, as S. Denys says, in a loving jealousy for man which led Him to offer His very Life to overcome His rival the devil.

XI. He testifies how He bore the languishing desires of love, saying, “I have a Baptism to be baptised with, and how am I straitened till it be accomplished !”⁶ Thus He longed for His Baptism of blood, urged by His exceeding desire for man’s salvation; and His Sweat of blood proceeded from intense love as well as agony.

XII. Finally, that Great Lover of our souls died amid the flames of ardent love perfected in, by, for, and of love. For, albeit His bodily pains were enough to cause death to any man, it could not have overpowered Him Who “has the keys of hell and death”? if He had not Himself opened the door, His Love not being content to become mortal for us, but willing actually to die. He died of His Own deliberate choice, not of necessity: “No man taketh My Life from Me, but I lay it down of Myself.”3 Isaiah tells us that He was offered because He willed it ;4 and therefore Holy Scripture does not say that His Spirit left His Body as we are wont to speak, but that “He yielded up the Ghost”—He gave up His Spirit into His Father's Hands. S. Athanasius observes that He “bowed His Head” 5 in order to express His acceptance of death, which else had not dared approach Him, “crying out with a loud voice” to testify that He had yet strength to live had He not so fervent a love for men that He willed to die, since otherwise men could not live eternally. This it was which made our Saviour’s Death a true and perfect sacrifice, offered by Himself to His Father for our redemption. Those sufferings, which must needs have caused the death of any ordinary man, could not have caused His Death had not the fire of His great Love consumed Him, so. that He was at once the Sacrifice and the Sacrificer.

Yet we may not say that there was any extasy in this loving Death, for the object of that love had no charms by which He was rapt; rather His Pure Soul welled forth like a precious myrrh which springs forth from its parent tree out of mere abundance and overflow, according to His words, “No man taketh My Life, but I lay it down of Myself.”

What greater stimulant to love can any one of us need than the memory of what He has done for us? Verily and indeed, the Love of Christ constraineth us!

Perfections.