Treatise on the Love of GodBook XI. The supreme authority of love over all the soules virtues, actions, and perfections

That even when found among heathen (who, as S. Augustine says, acted from purely lower motives, which produced friendship, temperance, honesty, etc.) He accepted and recompensed it. The Egyptian midwives who took pity on the Hebrews, and disobeyed Pharaoh’s cruel command to slay their sons, were rewarded of God.’ Because Nebuchadnezzar had “served a great service against Tyre” without wages, therefore the Lord gave him the land of Egypt,? whence S. Jerome draws the lesson that God rewards even heathen well-doing. And Daniel bade the King of Babylon “break off his sins by righteousness, and his iniquities by showing mercy to the poor.”3 S. Paul says that “the Gentiles, which have not the Law, do by nature the things contained in the Law.” And if so, who can question that they do well, and will be remembered of God? The heathen recognised the sacredness of marriage; they held it right to bring up their children to love parents and country, and we may be sure that God, Who gave them this natural instinct, accepted its fulfilment.

Natural reason is as a good tree planted by God; and though its fruits may not be compared to the fruits of grace, still they are good, and receive their earthly reward of God, even as S. Augustine says the moral virtues of the Romans were rewarded by the spread and fame of their empire.

Sin is as a moral sickness, which hinders the mind in great things, but not in all action, even as the sick man sees, hears, and speaks, albeit sick. The soul yet lying in sin is capable of such natural good works as merit their natural reward, of such deeds as deserve recompense of their country and fellows. The sinner is not as devils, whose will is so wholly steeped in evil that it cannot frame aught that is good. Like the traveller who fell among thieves," he lies half dead on the road leading to Jerusalem, and can make some feeble efforts in the right direction because he is but half dead; yet he must surely perish at last, unless the Good Samaritan tend and save him. Man’s natural reason is sorely wounded and left half dead by sin, and cannot of itself fulfil all those commandments which it is constrained to own as just. Knowing its duty, it cannot perform the things it knows, save here and there; nor even so persistently without God’s special help, for our spiritual enemy is ever on the watch to overthrow man, raising up countless temptations to disobey, and then nature apart from grace cannot fence off the precipice. He who is victorious conquers “through our Lord Jesus Christ.”* If our Lord had said “Watch” only, we might think to be our own safeguard; but inasmuch as He says “Watch and pray,’ He warns us that, “except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.”3

It has been observed that although the strawberry plant creeps along the ground exposed to the touch of insect and reptile, yet it never contracts any poisonous influence. So with man’s natural virtues: though springing from a sin-stained, earthly heart, they are not necessarily sullied thereby. As Aristotle says, virtue is a habit which cannot be abused. But if such merely natural virtues are so good in themselves, how is it that they are unrewarded eternally in the sinner? Because he is incapable of an eternal reward who is separated from God, and the heavenly inheritance appertains to none save those who are “joint-heirs with Christ,” nor can natural graces claim a supernatural reward. The virtues practised by those who are friends of God, though merely natural in their origin, become supernaturalised, and raised to holy works, through His operation in the heart of those who | perform them. It is a note of friendship that it makes whatever a friend does acceptable; it casts a glow over all his deeds—his sharp words are sweet, whereas a foe’s sweet words are bitter. So all the good deeds of a heart which is devoted to God refer to Him; for the heart which has given itself can surely withhold nought else, and he who offers the trees implies the offering of foliage and fruit also. “The righteous shall flourish like a palm-tree, and shall spread abroad like a cedar in Libanus.”¹ ‘The good man is as “a tree planted by the water-side, that will bring forth his fruit in due season. His leaf also shall not wither; and look, whatsoever he doeth, it shall prosper.”² Not the fruit of love and flowers of its special good works alone, but the very leaves of mere moral and natural virtues are influenced by the loving heart whence they spring. If when grafting a rose you insert a grain of musk, your roses will be scented hereafter. Rend your heart in penitence, and let God’s Love enter the wound, and be sure your deeds will be perfumed with holiness.

The Spartans had a custom that if any evil man pronounced a wise counsel it should not be heeded until repeated by some one of repute; and if you would sanctify the admirable moral teaching of Socrates or Epictetus, let it be carried out by a Christian soul for the love of God. “The Lord had respect to Abel and to his offering;”' the offering taking its value in His sight from the holiness of the offerer. And it is because He beholds His Beloved Son in all the children of His adoption that everything connected with them, materially and spiritually, is precious to Him. “Therefore, my beloved brethren,” says S. Paul, “be ye stedfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.” Remember, too, that all good works are “the work of the Lord,” as we learn from the instance of Nebuchadnezzar and his army above cited; and as Job, though born in a heathen land, was God’s special servant, so too moral virtues, even in a sinner’s heart, are God’s work. But when these same virtues are found in the Christian, and lit up by love, then indeed are they “not in vain in the Lord,” but fruitful and precious in His Sight. “With love,” says S. Augustine, “all things profit; without it nothing profits.” And S. Paul tells us that “all things work together for good to them that love God.” 1 Cor. xv. 58. Rom. viii. 28.

_ * Gen, iv. 4.

CERTAIN virtues are much more capable through their natural tendency of receiving the blessed influences of holy love, and consequently of sharing in its dignity and worth. Chief among such are faith and hope, which, like charity, bear immediate reference to God; and devotion, which, together with penitence, is a special offering to Him. These virtues so intrinsically tend to God, and are so susceptible to the impressions of His Love, that they need only the vehicle of a loving heart to give them a share in His Holiness. The vine which is planted between olive-trees needs no more to bear luscious grapes; the mere neighbourhood results in a mutual interchange of properties, so great an adaptability exists between the plants. Almost all the flower creation rejoices in the sunshine, and expands beneath those life-giving rays. But above all, yellow flowers, and among them the sunflower chiefly, do even more, for they turn as the sun turns, looking towards it from dawn till sunset. Just so all virtues receive fresh beauty and worth from Divine Love; but faith, hope, the fear of God, piety, penitence, and all other virtues which have special reference to Him, seek Him, and turn towards Him at all times with a more intense earnestness, as the sunflower turns to her God. Holy Scripture imputes a certain saving and sanctifying power to faith, hope, piety, the fear of God, and penitence, testifying that these are very precious virtues, and that where they exist in a heart filled with love of God they bear fruit and multiply. And surely the way in which love enhances all other virtues is clearly shown by S. Paul’s words, “Though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.” Charity does not merely sanctify the heart wherein it dwells, but likewise every grace which enters therein with it, rendering all more precious in God’s Sight, and above the rest faith, hope, and such virtues as have a natural tendency Godward. Therefore, before all else, it behoves us to ‘cultivate the virtues of piety and reverence, of faith, hope, and holy fear, dwelling upon heavenly things, frequenting services and Sacraments, and the like, forasmuch as Divine Love is fostered by all such practices, and in its turn adds to their grace and merit.

Divine Love a Special Sanctifier of Dhevience. RACHEL, disappointed of her hopes of becoming a mother, gave Bilhah, her handmaid, to Jacob, saying, “Still I may also have children by her ;”? but eventually she bore sons that were her very own, Joseph and Benjamin. And herein we find a type of holy love which, coming from Heaven to man, sometimes seems for a while to bear none of the expected fruit, and which then summons other virtues to its aid. But holy love will not long be barren, and in due time it brings forth an active love, which, like Joseph, rules over the kingdom of affections, passions, and faculties, subjecting all to God’s Will, and therein fulfilling the precept, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and all thy soul, and all thy strength ;” while it also bears a tender, Benjamin-like love, most sweet and attractive—unlike, however, in this, that its mother, charity, so far from dying at its birth, wins a fresh life therein.

Thus we must refer all good actions performed by the children ‘of God to holy love, either as its spontaneous fruit, or as springing from its influence.

A great general who has won an important battle unquestionably takes and deserves the credit thereof, both by reason of his personal prowess, and still more as having planned and disposed all the movements of his troops. If it so chances that certain auxiliary bands unexpectedly strengthened his hands, that does not lessen his merit, as, though not under his special command, they did but fall in with his designs. But while he rightly receives the general glory of the victory, the several branches of his army none the less come in for their share of credit in detail; it is recorded how well the van or the guard behaved, how the French or Italians, the Germans or English fought, and even individuals whose valour has been conspicuous are mentioned. Even so the glory of our victory over hell, and our salvation, is all referred to Divine Love, which, as the general of our spiritual army, is the source of all those feats by which we win. It rules and guides all other gifts and graces as its troops, and if aught that is good is done seemingly independent of love, what is really excellent therein will serve the same end, and be accepted together with it. And while we say, speaking generally, that charity bears all, believes all, hopes all, and practically does all, yet we do not mean thereby to deny that other virtues tend greatly to promote the salvation of those who practise them, since we commonly speak of those who are “saved by faith,” by almsgiving, prayer, etc. But meanwhile it is always understood, while we thus speak, that all such virtues have their real power and grace through Divine Love, whence all holiness proceeds.

When S. Paul says that charity “suffereth long, and is kind, believeth, hopeth, endureth all things,” he unquestionably means that it is charity which teaches patience to endure, hope to look forward, and faith to believe, implying the additional fact that none of these virtues would have any strength unless kindled and ‘sustained by love. And this, again, is what S. Paul means when he says that without charity nothing “profiteth” him, i.e. that without love neither patience, kindness, hope, nor any other grace, can attain to that fervour and reality which God requires of His true servants. 4.

Finally describes a tree he saw at Tivoli on which was grafted all manner of fruits, one branch bearing cherries, another walnuts, figs, grapes, pomegranates, or apples. Wonderful as this seems, it is still more wondrous to see how all graces may be grafted upon Divine Love, so that, just as that tree might have been called a vine, or a cherry, or a pomegranate tree successively, so charity may be fitly described as patience, meekness, or justice.

But here the parallel fails us, for Pliny records that the unnatural strain upon its forces caused the tree to wither and die; whereas the more fruit love bears the stronger it grows. Its craving is insatiable, and, like Rachel, it is ever crying out, “Give me children, or else I die !” . Such as the graft is so will the fruit be, yet nevertheless the parent characteristic will be traced through every variety. And so the various graces developed in the Christian’s life will all bear the trace of their common source, Holy Love, which will impart its own special charm to each, enhancing their original worth and beauty. The darkness of night veils the loveliness of the whole flower-world alike; but when the sun rises and sheds its glow upon that world anew, it does not alter their individual character, or make them all bright alike. No sunshine gives the ‘same colouring to the rose and the violet, or a similar height and dignity to the daisy and the lily. Yet supposing the sun to shine brightly on the violet while the rose was under a thick mist, it might perchance even seem the brightest flower. And if one man endures martyrdom ‘and another the pangs of fasting with equal love, it is obvious that the reward of the one cannot be so great as the other, for martyrdom is intrinsically a greater offering than fasting, and love does but perfect its intrinsic excellence. All will admit that virginity is a higher grace than married chastity, or voluntary poverty than a mere good use of riches. And surely love combined with these graces can but confirm and enhance them in the souls it governs, even as fruits are made sweeter, without losing their natural flavour, by the sugar in which they are preserved.

The stronger love is, so much more perfect will be a man’s good works; and as S. Paul says that it is possible even to suffer martyrdom without charity, we must all admit that it may be endured with but a low ‘degree of love. And if so, be sure that an insignificant act performed in the strength of ardent love is worth more in God’s Sight than even martyrdom itself where love is lacking. Thus the minor virtues of Our Lady, S. John, and other great saints, were of greater price before God than greater deeds of less worthy souls; and the passing acts of love of seraphim are more intense than the mightiest efforts of lower angelic beings, even as the scarce-formed notes of the nightingale are sweeter than all other songsters of our woods.

Pliny says that the great painter Piricius took in his old age to paint only small bits of still life; yet even these bore such marks of a master-hand that they sold at far higher prices than other men’s best works. And so the small acts of humility which the great saints performed out of the abundance of their love were more acceptable to God than the mighty deeds which other men have effected with cold and loveless hearts.

The Bride of the Canticles pierced the Bridegroom’s heart with one lock of her hair, which he likens for its beauty to “a flock of goats that appear from Gilead ;”¹ and having dwelt upon the beauty of her eyes, the noblest feature of the face, he turns at once to praise her hair, the least enduring of her beauties, as it were to show that the smallest grace is precious where love is.

Had not the Holy Spirit vouchsafed Himself to reveal in express terms through S. Paul how great worth holy love imparts to man’s actions, we should not dare to imagine it. But listen to the Apostle’s words: “Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.”3 Affliction leading to glory, lightness producing weight, that which is momentary working for eternity! What is the virtue which works these wonders? Men call scarlet and purple a royal garb; but it is not by reason of the threads whence they are woven, but for the dye which tints them. So the good deeds of the Christian open Heaven to him; yet not because of the fabric which is of man, but by reason of the Precious Blood which dyes them. The branch verily bears its clusters of grapes, but only so long as it is united to the vine, so the Christian’s virtues win eternal life only inasmuch as he is united to his Head, Which is Christ. Aaron’s rod was dry until laid up in the Tabernacle, when in one night it brought forth flowers and fruit. So we are dry, worthless branches, “insufficient to think anything as of ourselves,” until by the love of the Great “Shepherd and Bishop of our souls” our hearts are fertilised, and bring forth fruits of life eternal, Steep the seeds of the common tasteless melon in perfumed water, and they will produce a highly-flavoured fruit. Even so we, who of ourselves cannot think anything that is good, may abound in good works meet for glory when our hearts are filled with love by God’s Holy Spirit. The wretched thorns of our natural field will become as golden reeds meet for the Heavenly City through that; and the “measure of angels” will be given to men in the day when the Lord “cometh quickly, and My reward is with Me, to give every man according as his work shall be.” 5

Glorious reward, worthy of the Master we serve! Verily, had it so seemed Him good, He might well have demanded our obedient service without any hope of reward; for we are His bounden servants, and can do no good thing save through and in Him. But He has not so willed it; rather, for the sake of His Dear Son, He vouchsafes to treat with us, to offer us the wages of eternal life according to our temporal service. Not that this our service is anywise needful or profitable to Him—He Himself has taught us when we have done all to know that we are unprofitable servants,—but of His great Mercy He turns all we can do to our own advantage, and our petty good deeds win an eternal recompense.

Yet neither in this superabundant goodness does He fail to show forth His Wisdom, adhering as He does to a strict rule of justice, and, notwithstanding all His indulgence, keeping a true balance. For that which is lacking to our poverty is made up of His abundance, and the Holy Spirit dwelling in our hearts by love, so admirably works in and for us, that those very deeds which seem most our own are still more His, since, while He produces them in us, we on our part produce them through Him; He works for us, and we work for Him; He co-operates with us, and on our part we co-operate with Him. We know that the Holy Spirit dwells in us if we be living members of Jesus Christ, Who has said, “He that abideth in Me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit.” And He has promised to be “a well of water springing up into everlasting life” to whomsoever He indwelleth. Even so the “precious ointment upon the Head”—that is, Christ—runs down to all the faithful,3 and fulfils the promised blessing on them that “dwell together in unity” with Him.

Our feeble works, like the grain of mustard seed, cannot be compared with the tree of glory they produce, a result given to them through the agency of the Holy Spirit, Who, entering our heart, appropriates all we do, grafting us into the Heavenly Tree to which He supplies sap and life. And by means of our co-operation He suffers us to share in the merit and profit thereof, while we attribute to Him all the glory first and last, “being confident that He Which hath begun the good work will perform it to the end.” 4

Truly, it is a wondrous bargain, by which we give Him the frail glory of our praise, and He gives us eternal glory and joy! So it is that by our light temporal affliction we attain the everlasting joys of eternity. Amen; So be it. a

* John xv. 5. 2 John iv. 14. .

It is said that life is conveyed first of all to the members to the heart, by the union of the soul, and last to the eye, the reverse taking place in death, when the eye is the first member which loses its vitality, and the heart the last. The life which kindles the heart before birth is necessarily frail, but as the rest of the frame gradually develops, it becomes stronger; as again, when life declines, whichever member suffers, all the rest suffer with it. If a man injures his arm or leg his whole body feels the pain and discomfort; his countenance is changed by any anguish, internal or external, and this because the whole human frame is adapted to one purpose, each part fitting duly to the other.

It is much the same with our moral life. All the virtues cannot be attained at once, but rather one after another; as reason, which may be called the soul of our moral being, takes possession and direction, first of one, then of another passion. And for the most part this spiritual life begins in that which we may Call the heart of the passions, namely love, which, spreading over all else, kindles them to life by contemplation; while moral or spiritual death enters through the eyes (gazing upon sin), as the Prophet says, “Death is come up into our windows,”' and so puts out love, whereupon our spiritual life is extinguished.

No doubt it is possible for some virtues to exist separately, but they will be frail and uncertain; because reason, which is the living principle of the soul, is never satisfied without possessing every faculty and passion, and if it is wounded in any one the whole moral life is affected and fails. All virtues are such through their conformity to reason, and no act is really virtuous unless it ‘arise from the heart’s love for that which is beautiful and good. Such a love will always be influenced by reason, and thereby virtuous acts will be produced. If Jacob had loved Rachel only because she was Laban’s daughter, why did he dislike Leah, who was no less Laban’s child? But we know that he loved Rachel because of her beauty, and although Leah bare him children, he never cared in like manner for her. If a man loves one virtue through love of the reason and goodness he perceives in it, he will love all virtues, finding the same attraction in all. He who admires liberality, but cares not for chastity, proves that his admiration is not because of its intrinsic beauty, which is still more eminent in chastity, and we cannot help feeling that such a one’s liberality is unreal, not springing from the true source whence all virtue must arise. .

It is enough that a child be born in wedlock to entitle him to bear the name and rank of his parents, but he will not inherit their natural qualities unless he be born in lawful course. So our actions are attributed to reason, and bear the name of virtues; but if they spring from other and illegitimate motives they are worthless. What can the prudence of him who is intemperate and unjust be worth, inasmuch as he deliberately chooses vice and rejects virtue? Or how can a man be just who is not prudent, firm, and temperate, inasmuch as justice is neither more nor less than a strong, persistent determination to render to every one that which is his? The very science of administering justice is called jurisprudence; and surely he who cannot do justice to himself by temperance and purity is not likely to do justice to others. -By the very word virtue we mean a property of the soul, just as we speak of the “virtue” of a plant, or of a precious stone. Prudence becomes imprudent in the intemperate; strength without prudence, justice, and temperance, is mere violence; justice becomes unjust in the coward, or in him who cannot distinguish between right and wrong. In short, no one virtue can exist in perfection without its concomitant virtues.

Of course all the virtues are not called for at once; and indeed a man may be a saint without ever needing to exercise some kinds of virtue, e.g. S. Paul the first hermit, who in his wilderness had no occasion to practise forgiveness, meekness, or liberality. But, at the same time, such persons are so habitually guided by reason, that were the occasion to arise for any such virtues they would be ready to practise them without hesitation or reserve. . . So

Men are liable to the mistake of accepting certain merely natural advantages as virtue, as in the case of people who are naturally sober, gentle, or pure; but these qualities have no merit, any more than natural evil inclination constitutes vice, until they are voluntarily accepted and acted on. There is no merit in a small appetite, but abstinence on religious grounds is a virtue; natural taciturnity has no virtue, but deliberate reticence of speech is different. Some people think that if they are free from a positive vice it is all the same as possessing its antagonistic virtue. He who never was in battle may certainly say that he never ran away, but that does not prove his valour; he who has never suffered may boast of not being impatient, but he can scarce boast of his patience. Thus good inclinations are often mistaken for virtues; and as it is quite possible to have some good inclinations without others, people suppose it to be the same with virtues.

In a letter written by S. Augustine to S. Ambrose, he shows that it is possible to possess some virtues apart after a feeble fashion, but that none can be carried to perfection by itself; whereas one vice may exist alone, indeed it is not possible for all the vices to exist together, so that it does not follow that a man who has lost all virtues has acquired all vices. Nearly every virtue has two antagonistic vices which are incompatible with each other. Thus the presumptuous man cannot at the same time be cowardly, and the prodigal cannot be a miser. Catilina was sober, and patient in bearing cold and hunger, and therefore he and his party boasted of his fortitude; but he was not prudent, inasmuch as he chose evil rather than good; he was not temperate, for he indulged in many vicious courses; he was not just, for he conspired against his country,—so that his fortitude dwindles down to mere obstinacy, and was simply an imposture.

“A RIVER went out of Eden to water the garden; and from thence it was parted, and became into four heads.”* Even so man is set in pleasant places, which are watered by the river of reason and natural light; and that river is separated into four heads—in other words, it flows in four different courses, according to the four faculties of the soul.

Thus, first, it influences the practical understanding, pointing out such actions as we ought to perform or shun, and natural light supplies prudence in the choice we have to make between good and evil.

Secondly, it sends forth justice to guide the will, i.e. a firm, continual resolution to render every man his due.

Thirdly, it supplies temperance to control the passions and lusts.

Fourthly, it bridles the impulses of anger.

These four rivers are further subdivided, to the better government of all human actions. But beyond all this, God has given a special favour to Christians, causing to well forth in the higher nature a supernatural fountain. which we call grace, which, while really.* Gen. ii, 10. proceeding of love, which purifies the soul of all sin, yet includes faith and hope, and which endows it with the utmost spiritual beauty. This sacred fountain imparts heavenly prudence to the understanding, holy justice to the will, temperance and devotion to the passions and impulses, thereby causing the heart of man to tend wholly to that purity and supernatural happiness which are only to be attained through union with God. When any of these streams of love come across one of the natural virtues they absorb it, mingling their own sweetness with it, as perfume imparts its savour to water; or if holy love does not meet with such natural virtues, it is able of itself to achieve the needful work.

For instance, love encountered many natural gifts in a Paul, an Ambrose, a Dionysius, a Pachomius, which were sanctified and turned to God’s service; but in the multitude of others, such as the Magdalene, S. Mary of Egypt, or the Good Thief, where no natural gift appeared, love alone worked all that was needed, transforming itself into patience, gentleness, humility, and the like.

We sow many seeds, and bury all alike in the ground, until the sun, so to say, causes their resurrection, and each brings forth its flowers and fresh seed according to its kind, all of which, however diverse, are produced by the gracious warmth of the sun’s rays. So God has sown the seeds of many virtues in man’s heart; but they are so covered under the soil of weakness and imperfection that they are scarce perceived till such time as the vital heat of holy love awakens and revives them, causing them to bring forth all manner of graces. Like as the manna of the desert had every variety of pleasant flavour to the Israelites, so heavenly love possesses every manner of perfection, and brings it forth as needed. Joshua overcame God’s enemies by his able generalship, but Samson overcame them more marvellously with his own hand. Joshua’s strength lay in his troops, but Samson’s was personal. Heavenly love combines the two, for it wields and marshals the virtues already existing in the soul, such as faith, hope, or penitence, and supplies whatever is lacking itself more effectually than all besides. _ S. Paul does not merely say that charity imparts patience, meekness, and the like, but that it is itself. patient and meek; and it is the special characteristic. of the highest virtues in angels and men, that they not only move others, but act themselves. A Bishop confers Holy Orders, and commissions all those who exercise any ecclesiastical office, whether it be to preach or teach, to administer Sacraments, exorcise, etc. ; but he who confers the power on others is also able to exercise all such offices himself. So S. Thomas, alluding to the Apostle’s words, “Charity suffereth long,” etc., says charity is the sum and completion of all the other virtues. And S. Ambrose, writing to Demetrius, calls patience and the like members of charity; while S. Augustine says that the Love of God comprises all virtues, and achieves all their results in man. “The division of virtues under four heads,” he says, alluding to the cardinal virtues, “comes from the diverse affections arising from love. I should define these four virtues thus: Temperance, love giving itself wholly to God; Fortitude, love willingly enduring all things for God; Justice and Strength, serving God only, and thereby ruling whatever is subject to man uprightly; Prudence, love selecting whatever may promote union with God, and rejecting all that can hinder it.”

So he who has charity has a wedding garment, glorious, like Joseph’s, in its divers colours, and glittering with all graces; or, better still, he possesses a perfection which is the epitome of all perfections, of all virtues. And so “charity is kind; envieth not,” but is lowly; “vaunteth not itself,” but is humble; seeketh not her own,” but is considerate; “is not easily provoked,” but peaceful; “thinketh no evil,” but is generous; “rejoiceth not in iniquity, but in the truth;”. “beareth all things, believeth all things” that are good, not arguing or contending; “hopeth all things” for a neighbour's salvation; “endureth all things.” In a word, charity is that “gold tried in the fire” which our Lord counselled the Bishop of Laodicea to buy of Him,¹ which is worth all other riches, which is able to accomplish all things, which is our all in all

All Virtues peribe their Perfection from Bole Love. “Love is the bond of perfectness,”? inasmuch as all spiritual perfection is combined therein, and without it there can neither be any combination of virtues, nor any single virtue in perfection. Without mortar to bind the stones a wall will soon fall; without nerves and tendons the body would perish; without love no virtue can abide. Our Lord always speaks. of love as a necessary part of fulfilling His Commandments: “He that hath My Commandments, and keepeth them, He it is that loveth Me... . He that loveth Me not keepeth not My Commandments ;”3 “Who so keepeth His Word, in him is the love of God perfected ;”¹ “This is the love of God, that we keep His Commandments.”5 And he who had all the virtues would necessarily keep all the Commandments, since he who has the virtue of religion will keep the three first, dutifulness observes the fourth, kindness the fifth, purity the sixth, generosity the seventh, truth the eighth, and honest regularity the ninth and tenth.® And if we cannot keep the Commandments without love, still less can we attain to all virtues without it.

It may be possible to have some virtue, and abstain awhile from offending God, even without His Love. But so we sometimes see an uprooted tree put forth frail, uncertain shoots; and just as they will not come to maturity, so the natural good qualities of man’s heart cannot come to any real perfection without love. Nor can the virtues apart from it achieve their rightful end, which is man’s happiness. Any virtue taken without charity is little worth, because it cannot achieve the end of all virtues, man’s happiness. The bee begins its existence as a mere grub, without legs or wings; then it becomes a small fly, and at last, when full grown, it can both fly and make honey. So the virtues have a beginning, growth, and perfection; they may possibly begin without the help of love, and even make some progress, but they can never advance to any perfection without charity, which wings their heavenward flight, and gathers in the honey of true sanctification.

What the sun is among the heavenly bodies such is charity among virtues, giving to each its brightness and beauty. Faith, hope, fear, and repentance may first possess the heart and make ready for charity, but it alone can kindle and quicken any or all.

Other virtues have great power to sustain and perfect one another, e.g. chastity both necessitates and confirms temperance; obedience quickens prayer, humility, and generosity; and by such intercommunication they enhance the value one of another. Thus chastity acquires a double worth through obedience to lawful authority; and Aristotle says that the man who steals for some impure end is more guilty of impurity than of theft, the latter being merely the means to his end. So he who is chaste out of obedience is even more obedient than pure. But not even this combination of purity and obedience is perfect without love; and were it possible to bring every virtue together in one man, but without charity, he would resemble the inanimate body of Adam when God formed him out of the dust of the earth, without life, motion, or grace, until God “breathed into him the breath of life,” and he “became a living soul.”

Divine Love is so supreme, that while it is the perfection of all other virtues, it cannot itself be perfected of any, not even by obedience; for even the obedience of love acquires all its merit from His Goodness Whom we love. Truly loving we obey, as obeying we love; but the virtue of such obedience lies in His excellence Whose Love inspires us. God is at once the Final End as well as the First Cause of all that is good, and His Love is likewise the beginning and end of all perfection.

The philosophers of old spoke eloquently of moral virtue, and even of religion itself; but what Plutarch says of the Stoics may well be applied to all the heathen. “We see vessels,” so he writes, “bearing most noble names— Victory, Valour, The Sun, etc., but they are none the less subject to the winds and waves; and the Stoics, who boast of being superior to all passions, fear, sorrow, or anger, are practically no less the victims of dismay, anxiety, impetuosity, and the like, than other men.”

How could we look for any high degree of virtue in men who deliberately rejected the laws of religion? Seneca, for instance, wrote freely against all heathen superstitions; but that freedom, as S. Augustine observes, existed more in his words than deeds, since, while teaching men to reject superstition, inwardly he allowed their external observance: “The wise man will accept them out of obedience to the law, not as acceptable to the gods.” What inconsistency there was in those who encouraged suicide when the troubles of life became intolerable, and yet maintained that the wise man was superior to all sorrow! “A happy life, forsooth,” S. Augustine exclaims, “to escape from which a man must needs seek death! If it so happy, wherefore quit it?” And surely the famous suicide of Cato, who thereby escaped what he esteemed indignity, was less the token of firm courage than of a weak mind which dared not face adversity. Either he grudged Caesar the glory of sparing his life, or he would not stoop to the conqueror he hated; and even if we allow that this was courage, we cannot call it wisdom or fortitude. No cruelty is so savage as that which is in cold blood and deliberate, and it is the same with despair.

Again, of Lucretia, S. Augustine says,—if she was indeed chaste, wherefore should she have slain herself? Because she feared the shame which might have been cast on her had she lived. But is it right to slay the innocent to escape from the lash of man’s opinion? Ought honour to be preserved at the expense of virtue, or reputation at the cost of justice? But such were the virtues of the best of heathen. Moreover, they utterly disregarded the love of others, even legally trampling such a rule under their feet. Even Aristotle and Seneca asserted that deformed or sickly children ought to be put away, and that an inconveniently large family might be reduced by abortion, or the exposure of the weakest members. Surely these are they of whom S. Paul says that, ‘professing themselves to be wise, their foolish hearts were darkened, and they became fools.”? The end of all pagan virtue was this world’s fame, and no virtue is really such without good motive or intention. The Council of Orange has said that the point of heathen good works lay in earthly love, that of the Christian in Heavenly love. And S. Augustine says that their virtues were only external, not having a sound foundation; and at the Judgment Day their good works will rise up to the mitigation only of their condemnation, not to their salvation. Vainglory was the repressing power among them against sin, and they despised vanity for very vanity’s sake; as when Diogenes, trampling Plato’s draperies under foot, replied to the owner’s demand what he was doing, “I trample on the pride of Plato.” “It may be so,” was Plato’s reply, “but it is with yet greater pride.”

Or remember Seneca on his deathbed bequeathing to his friends as his best legacy the glorious example of his own life! Love of praise was the source of such men’s virtue.

In the Greek the ruby and carbuncle bear a name signifying both fiery and flameless; for these precious stones shine like fire, yet are cold, and incapable of being inflamed. So the Fathers have called heathen virtues at once real and unreal, because in spite of their seeming brightness they were not instigated by the love of God. We might liken them to worm-eaten fruit, which outwardly is fair to see, but within is rotten to the core. Granted that Cato was a man of courage, but he who would profit by Cato’s example should rather seek to die when need is for the truth’s sake, than out of mere lust of glory. Surely a Laurence, a Vincent, a Sebastian, a Perpetual, an Agnes, a Catherine, is no less a model of firmness: and courage than a Cato or a Lucretia?

Abraham, the friend of God, had but one son by

Sarah, who was his heir, and the other sons by Hagar and Keturah could not enter into the lawful succession, not being recognised by his true wife, for Keturah’s children were not born till after Sarah’s death; and although she gave Hagar to Abraham, the latter “despised” her mistress, and was cast out before Ishmael’s birth, Even so none save the offspring of holy love are “the heirs of God, joint-heirs with Christ.”? Even the best actions without love, such as schismatics may perform, says S. Augustine, are worthless. ‘Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.” And if, while bringing forth moral virtues, the will is contrary to its lawful ruler, charity, such virtues will be driven forth as profitless, even as Hagar was driven forth from Abraham’s house, because their faulty motive deprives them of all merit—a lesson taught by our Lord Himself in His parable of the Pharisee and Publican.”

The Israelites dwelt peacefully in Egypt so long as Joseph lived, but after his death they fell into bondage, whence the Hebrew proverb (which I unworthy learnt from the venerable Genebrand, Bishop of Aix), ‘When one brother dies, the others succumb.” Thus while God’s Love reigns in man’s heart all virtue thrives and prospers; but when once that fails all the others, Ishmael-like, are cast out, and lose their right of heritage: “When the righteous turneth away from his righteousness, and committeth iniquity, and dieth in them: for his iniquity that he hath done shall he die.”3 Mortal sin effaces all merit; such good deeds as are performed before a man is guilty thereof are destroyed thereby, and those performed while it reigns in his heart are fruitless and lifeless.

The Dead Sea is said to be so accursed that nothing can live therein. The fish which come down the river Jordan quickly die as they approach it, and the fruits which grow on its shores, albeit fair without, within are dust and ashes. Sin, too, is as a moral Dead Sea, which destroys all life in or about the soul which approaches it. Nor are its fruits merely dead, but so poisonous, that where it is no branch can bear good fruit, and even those which have a fair exterior are void and loathsome. Our Lord tells the Bishop of Sardis, “Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead,” * because his fruits had no savour of love in them. ‘Where love is,” says S. Augustine, “all is precious; where love is not, all is nothing worth.” And “what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” ?

Those works which the sinner performs apart from holy love cannot avail to life eternal, and are called dead works, while the good deeds of the just man are called living works, because God’s Love inspires them. If these lose their worth through subsequent sin we call them, not dead, but so to say extinguished. For as our Lord said of Jairus’s daughter, “She is not dead, but sleepeth,” so the good works of God’s elect which have been overclouded by sin are not really dead, but half killed, slumbering; and if holy love resumes its sway they may live and rise again. As the return of sin deprives the heart and its works of life, so the return of grace restores them to life. A severe winter destroys vegetation, and if it lasted nature would never revive; but the return of spring both causes the fresh seed to grow, and revives the trees which seemed to be dead. So God’s Grace reviving in the heart both brings fresh blessings and merits, and rekindles the all but extinct grace of past deeds. “When the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness that he hath committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall live ;”³ “Repent, and turn yourselves from all your transgressions; so iniquity shall not be your ruin.”⁴ So the prodigal son was not merely met by his father’s embrace, but he was restored to all the position and privilege he had forfeited; and Job, the type of the restored sinner, received of the Lord twice as much as he had before. And S. Paul bids us “abound in the work of the Lord, because we know our labour is not in vain in Him,” and because “God is not unrighteous to forget our work and labour of love.” The Lord is mindful of their works who, having lost love through sin, regain it through repentance. He forgets their works who lose holiness by sin; He remembers them when love restores their life. So that, in order to future grace and glory, it needs not that the faithful servant of God should never have fallen into sin, but if he die in God’s Grace and Love it sufficeth. God has promised an eternal reward to the just man; but if he turn from his righteousness and sin, his former good works will be no more remembered. Yet if he return and repent neither will his sin be remembered, but only his former good works, his sin being altogether blotted out, or rather, God’s Mercy refusing to recall them; else David had not dared say, “Give me the comfort of Thy Help again, and establish me with Thy free Spirit.”3 He asks not only for a renewed heart, but for the “comfort” which sin had deprived him of. And that comfort is the wine of God’s Love, which “maketh glad the heart of man.”

Observe the difference between sin and good works. The just man’s good works are not done away with when he sins, but only forgotten; but the sin of the wicked man is not merely forgotten, it is effaced, blotted out by repentance. Sin cannot revive past sins which have been put away; but love reviving, does simultaneously revive all these good ‘works which were only laid aside, not effaced. Sin makes man incapable of eternal life; but so soon as sin is repented of and put away, God remembers man’s past good works, and they become. fruitful. Sin has less power as opposed to love, than love has as opposed to sin, and that because sin is the fruit of man’s weakness, love of God’s Strength. If sin abound to form man’s destruction, grace much more aboundeth,’ and “mercy rejoiceth against judgment.”? Thus whenever our Lord performed a miracle of bodily healing He always added thereto fresh blessings, so bounteous are His dealings with man.

I have read in Pliny that the bee, when seemingly dead, will revive if laid in the spring sunshine, beneath some fig-wood ashes, but I never heard that wasps or gnats revive in like manner. Neither do we find from Holy Scripture or any theologian that our sins which have been destroyed by penitence can ever live again; but good works, like the bee, are recalled to life by the sunshine of grace, and are effectual once more. When Nebuchadnezzar destroyed Jerusalem, the sacred fire from the Altar was hid in a pit, where it was lost in mud; but when, after long years, this mud was drawn up, and the sacrifice laid upon it, there was a great fire kindled, and the sacrifice was consumed. So when the just man suffers himself to ‘become the slave of sin all his past good works are reduced, as it were, to mud; but once set free from the pit, and touched with the light of love, they revive, and break forth into pure flames meet for God’s Altar, and are restored to their original worth and grace.

? Rom. v, ? James ii. 13. 3 2 Mace. i.

The inferior animals all tend to their ultimate distinction, but without knowing it, for they are incapable of choice or intention. But man has control over his reason and acts, and can direct them to such end as he chooses. Thus he can wholly pervert the natural end of an action, e.g. if he takes an oath to deceive, the object of oaths being to prevent deceit; or he can add a secondary object, as when in almsgiving, which primarily is in order to relieve the poor, he also intends to win affection, or set a good example.

Now sometimes the secondary object of men is inferior to the action itself, sometimes equivalent to it, and sometimes far higher. For instance, in almsgiving, beyond the direct object of giving relief to the needy, there may be first the object of winning his affection, next of edification to others, and thirdly, pleasing God, when these different objects are respectively less, equal, and greatly superior to the original end of almsgiving. Thus it is plain that the perfection of our acts may be greatly diversified by the motive, end, or intention with which they are performed.

In the parable of the Talents our Lord says, “Thou oughtest to have put My money to the exchangers.”? Be it ours to trade wisely and cautiously with aims and motives in this spiritual traffic. Thus a man takes office with a view to serving his country honourably; but if he considers his own honour more than the public welfare, or even equally with it, he does amiss, and falls into the snares of ambition. But if, while making his country’s service his chief object, he accepts such honour as does credit to his family, he cannot be blamed, inasmuch as there is no collision between the two interests. Another man makes his Easter Communion in order to avoid the criticism of his neighbours and to please God, and he does well. But if his object is as much, or more, to avoid censure as to obey God, who but will grant that he is wrong in showing as much deference to man’s opinion as to God? I may fast in Lent out of devotion, to please God; or out of obedience, because the Church enjoins it; or out of temperance and with a view to more diligent study; or out of economy, or out of chastity, to subdue my body, and pray better, Of course I may combine all these motives, but if so, they must be duly kept each in its proper place; for if I fast rather to save money than for obedience’ sake, or more in order to study profitably than to please God, is it not obvious that I reverse what is right and due, preferring my own interests to those of God and His. Church? Fasting with a view to economy is good, for obedience it is better, for God’s Sake it is best; and although evil can hardly come out of three good points, yet a culpable disorder may arise from unduly preferring the least important motive.

If a man invites only one friend to a feast none can take offence; but if he invites all, and then gives the chief places to those of least dignity, and the reverse, he will offend everybody,—one side because he depreciates them, the other because he puts them to shame. So he who performs any act from a reasonable motive, however trivial, is safe; but if he has several motives he must be sure that each assumes its due proportion, or he will do wrong. He who desires to please God and Our Lady does well, but he who seeks to please her as much or more than God is guilty of an intolerable error, and might be addressed like Cain: “If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door.”² Each aim must hold its own due place, and so necessarily that of pleasing God must have the pre-eminence. And the highest aim of all man’s actions, which is the love of God, has this sovereign property, viz., that its purity purifies the action which it produces, so that the saints and angels have no object whatsoever in their love save God’s Goodness and pleasing Him. Truly, they love each other, they love us, they love all holiness, but all for God’s Sake only. They practise virtue, not because it is attractive, but because it is acceptable to God; they seek happiness, not for their own delight, but because He would have it so. Their very love is not selfish, but tends solely to God; it is precious to them, not because it is theirs, but because it is the gift of God, and He delights therein.

Our efforts must be directed to purify each and all of our intentions, shedding the light of Divine Love on every action, rejecting all the unholy motives which vainglory and self inspire, and sifting everything which moves us till we reach the only true motive-power, the love of God. For instance, a man may enter upon active service, first of all from the natural impetus of strength and courage which delight in perilous undertakings; but beyond that there may be the desire to obey his sovereign, love for his country, and generous delight in performing noble deeds. But to purify and exalt all such motives the Christian warrior will offer them all to God and His service. Such a continual recurrence to God will sanctify all other aims and motives, Aristotle says that he who steals to indulge his passion for drink is rather a drunkard than a thief, and he who exercises valour, obedience, patriotism, and generosity with a view to please God, is even more emphatically a lover of God than a patriot or a brave soldier.

We do not say that we are going to Lyons, but to Paris, when Paris is our ultimate point, and we only pass Lyons on the way. And if from time to time some lesser motive comes forcibly before us, e.g. if we are greatly attracted to chastity because of the beauty of a pure life, we may always turn back upon God, asking to find our best delight in pleasing Him. And whatever good or holy thing we do, we ought always to sanctify with our Lord’s Own words, “Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in Thy Sight.”¹ The great charm of any virtue to a Christian ought to lie in its being acceptable to God; yet there have been men who have blindly followed certain virtues for their own sake, forgetful of Him. Thus Origen and Tertullian were both guilty of error in their passionate devotion to chastity, and the sect which rose up in Lyons drove their admiration of poverty to fanaticism, while certain heretics exalted almsgiving and charity towards man beyond the Love of God. ‘His banner over me was love,”? says the Bride. And love is the banner which leads the army of virtues; all must be subject to it; our only General, the Lord Jesus Christ, recognises no other standard. Learn to. measure all virtues by obedience to love, loving each virtue for itself, but chiefly because it is acceptable to God, and preferring that which is best, not because it is best, but because He loves it best. Thus holy love will inspire all, and make all precious to our salvation.

Man's reason seeking to attain that natural happiness which is set before him needs sundry aids, Thus he needs temperance, that he may repress the bold attempts of sensuality; justice, that he may render what is due to God, his neighbour, and himself; fortitude, that he may conquer the inevitable difficulty he finds in doing good and avoiding evil; counsel, to discern the best means of attaining the true good; wisdom, to know what is really good and evil; understanding, to perceive the fundamental principles of beauty and truth; and lastly, knowledge, to contemplate the Godhead, First Cause of all good. And the Holy Spirit Which dwells in us, vouchsafing to mould our souls to His Own inspirations, the laws of His Love, on which all our supernatural blessedness in this life rests; has given us the qualities and graces above mentioned, which are called in Holy Scripture the Gifts of the Holy Ghost. And these are not only inseparable from love, but strictly speaking they are inherent parts of love. For (I) knowledge is love tasting and experiencing how gracious the Lord is; (2) understanding is love attentively pondering the beauty of the faith, seeking God therein as revealed to His creatures; (3) wisdom is love fixing our attention on self and creation, so that we may ascend from a fuller knowledge thereof to a more perfect service of God; (4) counsel is love carefully selecting: the best means of serving Him in holiness; (5) fortitude is love strengthening the heart to do that which counsel points out; (6) piety is love softening toil, and leading us to do the work appointed us out of filial devotion; and (7) fear is love seeking to shun whatever is displeasing to God’s Majesty.

Thus charity becomes, as it were, a second Jacob’s ladder to us, in which the Sevenfold Gifts of the Holy Spirit are the blessed steps by which men may mount up to Heaven through union with God, and descend to earth for the help and comfort of their brethren. By the first step fear makes them shun evil; by the second piety kindles the desire of good; thirdly, knowledge teaches what ill to shun and what good to seek; fourthly, fortitude supplies courage to meet inevitable difficulties; fifthly, counsel enables men to elect the most suitable means thereto; the sixth step unites the understanding to God, showing forth His Infinite Beauty; and the seventh joins the will to His, enabling it to taste the abundance of His Goodness. And at the top of the ladder God Himself is found, bending towards His creature with a loving embrace, and “His Love is better than wine.”

Then returning to our neighbour, in order to lead him to a like blessing, as on the highest step the will has been kindled with burning zeal, and softened by the sweetness of God’s Love, so on the next the understanding becomes marvellously enlightened, and filled with glowing thoughts and holy precepts. On the third step the gift of counsel supplies suggestions how to win men to know and love Divine Goodness; the fourth furnishes strength to overcome such difficulties as are to be encountered; the fifth supplies wisdom to teach and guide souls in the right way; from the sixth he who is on it draws men to a devout and loving obedience and childlike fear; while from the last step he urges the terrors of the Lord upon them, so that by holy fear they may be the more disposed to forsake earth and seek Heaven.

Charity is like a glorious lily, whose snow-white petals are the Sevenfold Gifts, and its pistils golden wisdom, which bring forth delight in God the Father’s Goodness, in the Mercy of God the Redeemer, and in the comfort of the Holy Spirit sanctifying men.

“Why love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.”? So said David mourning over Jonathan, as though his love was even tenderer than that of a wife for her husband. The perfection of love in a pure wife’s heart abounds in precious qualities; it is chaste and modest, strong yet tender, ardent yet self-contained, generous yet timid, vigorous yet obedient, and its fear is mingled with a most happy trust. Such is the fear of a truly loving soul,—so confident in the Bridegroom’s Love that it cannot fear losing it, and can only fear lest it lose any particle of His Beloved Presence. Its love is too confident to fear offending Him, yet it fain would please Him better; too generous to imagine any change possible, yet nevertheless seeking to draw closer, longing for a yet purer, more devoted love. Such a soul shrinks from resting even in the purest spiritual delights and consolations, lest they should distract it from the Giver thereof, crying 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 ?”?

It was this holy fear which inspired a S. Paul, a S. Francis, a S. Catherine of Genoa, to shun all division of their affection, striving to make it so pure and single that not even spiritual consolations or virtues should come between their heart and God, so that they might truly say, “I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me ;”3 “What is not God is nought ;” “Jesus my Life.”

The first beginnings of this holy fear come from true love, but a love as yet frail and weak. Child-

like fear comes from a firm, substantial love seeking after perfection; but the Bride’s fear arises from the very excellence and perfection of her existing love, whereas ordinary servile fear, though it is not the offspring of love, does sometimes help to lead the way to it. You have seen those who, like the “virtuous woman” described by Solomon,' “eat not the bread of idleness,” embroider all manner of beauteous and rich vestments, piercing the fabric they seek to adorn with their needle. But the needle is only needed to enable the gold thread or silk to pass through; and so God uses the sharp point of fear to prick man’s heart and pass holy graces and desires into it, withdrawing the useful instrument when its work is done, even as S. John tells us that “perfect love casteth out fear.”?

Verily, it were not possible for servile fear to abide permanently together with that holy love which is all. Joy, sweetness, and peace.

The embroideress, if suddenly stopped in her work, will oftentimes leave her needle in the flower she is tracing, the more surely to find it again; so God’s Providence often lets servile fear linger about man’s heart until, love being perfected, it is no longer needed. And forasmuch as in this life our love can never be absolutely perfect, we ever need some salutary check of fear. Even amid our keenest thrills of joyful love we must “serve the Lord in fear, and rejoice unto Him with reverence.”3 Abraham sent Eliezer (whose name signifies “The help of God”) to fetch a bride for his son, but so soon as Rebecca saw Isaac she forthwith left Eliezer, and being taken into what had been Sarah’s tent, she became Isaac’s wife. So God sends fear, as another Eliezer, to contract a marriage between the soul and holy love. Fear may be the first guide along the way, but so soon as the soul perceives love it forsakes fear and cleaves to love for ever.

Yet after his return, doubtless, Eliezer abode in Isaac’s service; and so fear will remain as a useful servant to love, for at times the soul will be beset by grievous temptations and human infirmities, and then love calls fear to the rescue, and drives back the foe. When Jonathan assaulted the Philistines’ garrison at Michmash, he slew his foes, and “his armourbearer slew after him.”³ Even so love is supported by the help of servile fear, and those temptations which love does not defeat the fear of, condemnation slays. Suppose the temptation to pride, avarice, or sensuality assaults me, I am fain to ask, Can I forsake the Beloved of my soul for such things as these? But if that be not enough, love rouses fear, reminding me that for even such things I may lose my heavenly heritage. We must use every aid in extremity, even as Jonathan and his armourbearer crept on their hands and feet in that same bold assault.

The sailor never leaves his anchors or cables behind, however smooth the sea when he quits the shore, knowing that storms may arise; and however blessed God’s servant may be with present rest and comfort, he must never be unarmed with that fear of his Master’s Justice which will strengthen him amid the storms of temptation. The rind of a fruit, however uneatable, is absolutely necessary to the preservation of that fruit; so servile fear, however inferior in worth to love, is most essential to its preservation amid the changes and chances of life. When you give a pomegranate to any one it is the juice and seeds you mean to offer, but needs must you give the rind as well; so the Holy Spirit gives holy fear together with His other Gifts, and at the same time He gives servile fear as a manner of rind, needful to the preservation of that higher, better fear. When Joseph sent costly presents of the treasures of Egypt to his father, the asses which bore them formed a part of his present.

But useful as servile fear is during our mortal life, it is not worthy of everlasting life, where there will be fearless confidence, certain happiness, and undisturbed rest. Yet while our earthly servile fear, like Moses and Aaron, will not be suffered to enter into the Promised Land, nevertheless their offspring will enter in, and that holy fear which the Bride has known will be transformed into a boundless reverence and admiration for the Incomprehensible Majesty of the Great and Glorious Bridegroom.

The fear of the Lord endureth for ever.

The most irreligious of men are roused to fear God by natural terrors; storm, tempest, or earthquake, and at such times their unconscious impulse bids them raise their eyes and hands to God for help. Titus Livius says that there is a universal impression among men that they who serve God are prospered, they who despise Him afflicted. When Jonah was storm-taken “the mariners were afraid, and cried every man unto his god,”? not knowing the truth, says S. Jerome, but recognising God’s Hand in their peril. And so the barbarous people among whom S. Paul was shipwrecked believed the viper which hung upon his hand to be the sign of Divine vengeance. David speaks of the wind and storm as “fulfilling God’s Word,” 3 as ministers of His Justice; and again he says, “Cast forth Thy lightning, and tear them; shoot out Thine arrows and consume them;”! and earlier yet Hannah said, “Out of Heaven shall He thunder upon them.”? Plato repeatedly testifies to this fear among the heathen, not merely of God’s temporal judgments, but of His future and eternal judgment, so deeply rooted in human nature is an instinctive fear of God.

Such a mere instinct is neither worthy of praise nor blame, being, as it is, all unwitting; but its use is great, inasmuch as it teaches us our dependence on God’s Omnipotence, and our need to seek His Aid. The Christian, exposed to any storm or terror, invokes that aid, signs himself with the Cross, and makes acts of faith, hope, and trust. S. Thomas Aquinas, being naturally afraid of thunder, used to stay himself with the solemn words, “The Word was made flesh.” David exclaims, “I will give thanks unto Thee, for... marvellous are Thy works ;”3 “Serve the Lord in fear, and rejoice unto Him with reverence.”4

Again, there is a fear coming of faith which warns us that after this life there are eternal terrors awaiting those who die unreconciled to God, which reminds us of the particular judgment awaiting every soul at the hour of death, and the final Day of Judgment for all men. And such thoughts strike the heart at times with an overwhelming fear; who, indeed, can dwell upon them without trembling? But if they serve to banish the attractions of sin, they are indeed blessed. “Lord, in trouble have they visited Thee, they poured out a prayer when Thy chastening was upon them. Like as a woman. . . is in pain, and crieth out in her pangs, so have we been in Thy Sight, O Lord.”s ‘There is no rest in my bones, by reason of my sin.

Our Lord Himself, the Giver of Love, teaches this fear: “Fear Him Which is able to destroy both soul

and body in hell.”* The Ninevites repented in consequence of their fear, and God spared them.

But if fear does not uproot the inclination to deliberate sin it is unavailing, nay rather, it is like that which devils feel and tremble, or that of a galley-slave. He who only abstains from sin because he fears the inevitable judgment of God is guilty in his will, and would gladly transgress were not hell on the other side. Another less odious, but equally unprofitable, fear is that of Felix, who, hearing Paul speak of God’s judgment, trembled, yet forsook not his sins; or Belshazzar, who, when he saw God’s Handwriting of his condemnation on the wall, “changed countenance, and his thoughts troubled him, so that the joints of his loins were loosed, and his knees smote one against another,”* yet did not repent. It avails little to fear evil, if that fear does not lead us to avoid it.

The mere slavish fear which obeys God out of fear of hell is good in itself, but how far higher and better is even the mercenary fear of the Christian; I mean. those who serve God less from love than in order to obtain their promised reward. Could eye see or ear hear, or could it enter into the heart of man to conceive, the blessedness prepared of God for them that serve Him, how greatly men would fear to break His Commandments, lest they lose their reward! what tears of penitence would they weep! Yet even this fear were unblest were it not combined with love; and verily, could we conceive a man deliberately choosing to serve God solely for an expected reward rejecting His Love, that man were nothing but a blasphemer.

But when a man fears to displease God, not merely because he dreads hell or the loss of Paradise, but. because his obedience and reverence are due to God his Father, then such is filial fear, even as an affectionate child does not obey its parent merely from fear of being punished or disinherited, but because he is a son; and were his father ever so old, helpless,

» Matt. x. 28, ? Dan. v. 6. 3 1 Cor. ii. 9.

: f Tho Once would be no less dutiful, but - G Aim the more tenderly. Joseph o er Jacob all the more because a dad placed him in a superior posiin, after Jacob’s death, his other sons Le Joseph’s pardon, they knew no more for than “Thy father did command before he died . 4. And Joseph wept when they spake unto him”⁹

Sometimes, indeed, this filial fear may be found mixed with the slavish fear of eternal damnation, or the mercenary fear of losing Heaven, without ceasing to be acceptable to God. This is technically called initial fear, being, as it were, the beginnings of a higher mental attitude. A young rider holds on to his saddle or whatnot when his horse prances, but the experienced horseman is indifferent to all aids, depending on his good seat. So the novice in God’s service may make use of any kind of fear which will help him to overcome his foes, and save him from a fall.

“Now the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.”?, And we must here observe that S. Paul speaks of all those in the singular—“fruit,” not “fruits.” Love is the one sole fruit of the Holy Spirit; but inasmuch as love has infinite properties, the Apostle divides it into sundry parts without preventing its unity. We speak of the grape, wine, and all its varied forms, as “the fruit of the vine,” not meaning thereby that they are really different fruits, but different forms of the one fruit. In the same way S. Paul teaches that the fruit of the Spirit is love, which love is joyous, peaceful, long-suffering, gentle, good, faithful, meek, temperate; filling the soul with inward joy and peace; making its possessor kind and good towards others, ready to bear with their faults and imperfections; modest and humble in loving, temperate and continent in all manner of sensual pleasure; filled inwardly with all these gracious fruits of love, and stamped outwardly with their external and visible signs.

Love is called the fruit of the Holy Spirit because it is to us as a very produce of the Tree of Life,—the Spirit of God Himself grafted upon our spirit, and dwelling in us by His great Mercy. And when we are not merely content to rejoice in their possession, but look to its fruition as the crown of our blessedness, it becomes more than a very precious fruit, it becomes a very beatitude, securing not merely our happiness in this life, but in the next, filling us with so unalterable a content that the waves and storms of trouble and persecution cannot destroy it. Poverty enriches it, humiliation exalts it, tears gladden it, deprivation strengthens it, renunciation becomes sweet to it, and all manner of trial is welcome, inasmuch as its best life is to die for Christ.

Thus love is at once a virtue, a gift, a fruit, and a beatitude. As a virtue it forms us to obedience to God’s inward inspirations through His Commandments or Counsels, wherein love is the crown of virtue; as a gift love makes us plastic and susceptible to those inward inspirations which are God’s hidden counsels, to which the Sevenfold Gifts point; as a fruit it imparts an exceeding delight in the exercise of the devout life; as a beatitude it teaches men to take positive delight in the calumny, injury, and contempt which the world lavishes upon Christ’s servants, as also to forsake and renounce all glory save that of the Cross, through which we learn to glory in our own abjection and abnegation, seeking no royal insignia save the Crown of thorns, the reed sceptre, the mantle of shame, and the throne of the Cross, whereon he who is a true lover finds greater happiness and glory than Solomon upon his ivory throne.

Love is the heart’s life. Just as a clock depends upon the movements of the pendulum, so love imparts all life to the soul. All our affections are regulated by our love, and according to that we desire, enjoy, hope or fear, hate, shun, grieve or triumph. We see a man who has given himself up to some unworthy earthly love altogether lost in it, hoping and fearing, seeking and desiring nothing else; and so, again, with those who have yielded to a passionate love of wealth or honour, they become the slaves of the thing they love, and have neither thought nor heart for aught besides.

So when the love of God reigns in our heart it right royally subjects all other affections of the will; it subdues sensual love, and reducing it to obedience, the sensual passions follow. In a word, this holy love is that living water of which our Lord said he that drinketh thereof shall never thirst. Verily, he who does but heartily love God will know no longing, or fear, or hope, or rest, save in God, and his every emotion will tend Godward.

The love of God and of self are both within us, like Jacob and Esau in Rebecca’s womb. They are sorely repugnant one to the other, and struggle together so that we are fain to cry out, “O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death,”"* and God’s Love alone reign in me? But we

. > Rom. vii. 24.

must be of good cheer, and hope in His Word Who gives His promise with His precept, saying to the soul as He said to Rebecca, “Two nations are in thy womb, and two manner of people shall be separated from thy bowels; and the one people shall be stronger than the other people; and the elder shall serve the younger.”¹ They were but two babes which were thus described as “peoples,” but from them nations were destined to spring; and from these two affections which occupy man’s heart, God and self, a whole world of emotions and passions will arise, causing sore travail within the soul, like to Rebecca’s material travail. And even as it was foretold her that of her two unborn babes “the elder should serve the younger,” so it is appointed of God that our sensual love should serve that which is spiritual, i.e, that self-love should serve the love of God.

This prophecy concerning Rebecca’s offspring was not fulfilled until David had conquered the Idumeans, and Solomon reigned over them in peace. And when will our earthly love be subject to Divine Love? Not until that Love becomes so strong that it is able to subdue every passion by mortification; or, more truly still, when we attain to Heaven, where that most blessed Love will wholly possess our souls.

We have a type of the way in which God’s Love must subdue self-love in Jacob, who, while Esau was coming to the birth, seized him by the foot, as though to hinder him. So Divine Love, seeing some merely natural or sensual affection coming to the light, seizes it by the foot, and subjects it to the service of God. When Moses laid hold of the Egyptian magician’s rod it turned to a miraculous wand; and so even our passions may be turned to a good end by the love of God.

How can this transformation be effected? Certain physicians maintain the theory that diseases are cured by their contrary effects, while others say precisely the reverse, that like is cured by like. Whichever is right, we know that the stars’ light is obscured both by the night mist and by the brightness of the sun, and wherefore should we not resist our earthly passions alike by means of what is contrary, and by affections like to themselves? A false trust in man may be counteracted by the thought that the great ones of the earth are as subject to mortality as one’s-self, that they are as weak, unstable, and frail as we are. The affection on which we rest so confidently to-day may be diverted to another to-morrow. Then is the time to defy such false hopes, taking shelter in one that is truer: “It is He that shall pluck my feet out of the net ;”' “Did ever any trust in the Lord, and was confounded? or did any abide in His fear, and was forsaken ?”?

In the same way we may fight against the longing after temporal ease or wealth, either by dwelling upon the contempt they merit, or by the superior attractions of things immortal, thus extinguishing earthly love by Love Divine, as flames are extinguished by water, or by fire from heaven, overpowering them.

Our Lord made use of both manners of cure. He taught His disciples to despise earthly fear by teaching them a higher fear: “Fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear Him Which is able to destroy both body and soul in hell.”3 And again, He taught them not to rest in a low form of joy, saying, “Rejoice not that the spirits are subject unto you; but rather rejoice because your names are written in Heaven ;”4 and again, “Woe unto you that laugh now! for ye shall mourn and weep.” Thus God’s Love supplants and subdues earthly affections and passions, diverting them from the end self had in view, and turning them to spiritual ends. Even as the rainbow resting upon the herb Aspalathus takes away its natural scent, and imparts one far sweeter, so

™ Ps. xxv. 14. ? Ecclus. ii. 10. 3 Matt. x. 28, Divine Love resting upon earthly passions takes away their earthliness, and spiritualises them. .

The most earthly actions may be supernaturalised by being performed in the spirit of love. We may eat,’ offering the act to God, as sustaining the body He has given us to do His service; we may rejoice in friendship, because God has given our friends to.be our stay and solace. Our fears may be offered to Him, remembering that He gathereth His children as a hen her young ones under her wings, and then who shall make us afraid? We shall do what we can to avoid the danger we fear, saying, “I am Thine, oh, save me !” then, come what may, it will be well. Thrice-blessed alchemy, by which we reduce every passion, affection, and desire to the pure gold of Heavenly Love!

We cannot graft an oak upon a pear-tree, so essentially different the two are; neither can anger or despair be grafted into charity. We have already discussed anger, and as to despair, save by reducing it to a due mistrust of self, or a consciousness of the vanity and emptiness of all worldly hopes and promises, I know not what it can possibly do on behalf of holy love. Or how can sadness have any part in Divine Love, when joy is so prominently placed as one of the Gifts of the Spirit? S. Paul speaks of a “godly sorrow which worketh repentance to salvation, but the sorrow of the world worketh death.” So there is a “godly sorrow” which is felt by repentant sinners, or by good men for the misfortunes of others, or by saints for the spiritual loss of souls. Thus David, Peter, and Magdalene wept over their own

1 2 Cor. Vii. 10.

sins; Hagar wept to see her son perishing of thirst; Jeremiah wept over Jerusalem, our Lord over the faithless city; and S. Paul wept over the “enemies of the Cross of Christ.”'

The sorrow or sadness of this world springs from three sources.

I, From the great Enemy of souls, who confuses the understanding, enfeebles the will, and dismays the soul by a host of woful, dreary suggestions. And just as a thick mist impedes the traveller's breath and hinders his progress, so these dismal thoughts clouding the mind hinder it from rising upwards, and cause discouragement and depression. There is a certain fish called the sea-devil, which seizes its prey by means of stirring up the mud so as to conceal itself until it springs upon the fish near it, whence, probably, the common phrase “to fish in troubled waters.” This is precisely what Satan does: he troubles and clouds the soul by a swarm of vexing thoughts, and then seizes his prey, overwhelming it with mistrust, envy, dislikes, jealousy, memories of past sin and the like, and prompting it to reject all reasonable consolations.

II. Again, sadness sometimes arises from natural temperament; and this is not necessarily wrong in itself, yet the Enemy uses it largely to tempt and harm the soul. The spider only weaves its web when the sky is dark and cloudy, and the Evil One is never so prone to spread his toils around bright, cheerful minds as around those who are gloomy and depressed, for they are much more easily influenced by vexations, suspicions, hatred, murmurs, envy, and spiritual sloth.

III. There is a sadness inevitable to the vicissitudes of life. ‘What joy can be mine, who sit in darkness and see not the light of heaven?” Tobias asked of the Angel.?, Thus Jacob sorrowed over the tidings of Joseph’s death, David over his son Absalom. Such sorrow is common to good and bad men alike, but in the good it is relieved by resignation to God’s Will; e.g. Tobias, who gave thanks through all, Job blessing the Lord’s Name, David singing praises. But worldly men are overpowered by such sorrow, and break forth into murmuring and despair. Such men are peevish, bitter, and downcast in sorrow, and generally headstrong and insolent in prosperity.

The sorrow of true penitence is less sadness than regret for and abhorrence of evil. It is never fretful or harassing; it rather quickens than paralyses the mind, rather stimulates the heart to more earnest prayer and devotion, and to fresh hope, than depresses it. Such sorrow always appreciates a fund of infinite consolation when at its keenest; as S. Augustine says, that while the penitent sorrows he rejoices in his sadness. And Cassian says that the sorrow which works true penitence never to be repented of is obedient, gentle, humble, cheerful, patient, as beseems the outcome of love. And even when bodily suffering is added to moral grief such a man is hopeful and vigorous, having possession of the fruits of the Holy Spirit which S. Paul tells us of.

This true penitence and holy sorrow is very far from dreariness and melancholy, but is watchful in its abhorrence and rejection of past sin as of what might arise in the future. We sometimes see men who are anxious, restless, fretful, and impatient in their repentance, which is sure to be unprofitable in consequence, such emotions arising from self-love, not from the true mainsprings of a sincere penitence. “The sorrow of the world worketh death,” and we are bound to avoid it with all our might. If it comes of our natural temperament we must resist and counteract it by every means in our power, even having recourse to medical advice in the matter. If it comes as a temptation the best thing is freely to open our grief to our spiritual guide, who will help to overcome it. If it be accidental we must recall how profitable tribulation is to God’s children, and dwell upon the greatness of our eternal hopes while suffering under the passing troubles of this life. In all alike it behoves us to use our highest powers of will to seek God’s Love. There may be certain things which depend so entirely upon constitution and temperament that we cannot control them. Externals—the countenance, voice, and manner—may be beyond a man’s own control; but even if he cannot assume a gracious manner every one can speak kind and gracious words, and constrain himself to act with courtesy and gentleness. A man may be pardoned for not being always cheerful,—we are not always capable of cheerfulness at will; but there is no excuse for not always being kindly, obliging, and courteous, for that: is within a man’s own control, and only requires a firm resolution to overcome his temper or inclination to be otherwise.