CHAP. VI.

On Meditation.

IT is certain that when we have laid the solid foundation of an entire conversion of the heart, a rigid penitence, and a serious meditation on all the truths of christianity that respect our practice, we become, by degrees, so accustomed to all these truths, that in the end, we behold them in a simple and steady view, and have no occasion to begin again to convince ourselves of the reality of each in particular. Then a sense of these united truths produces a sensibility of God, so pure and intimate that we find all in him. It is not the understanding that now enquires and reasons, it is the will that loves and plunges itself into the infinite source of good.

You must first walk

But this is not yet your state. a long time in the way of sinners who are beginning to seek God. Walk then in the spirit of Abraham without knowing whither you go: be content with your daily bread, and remember that, in the wilderness, the manna they gathered for more than one day presently corrupted: so true it is, that the children of God should be wholly intent upon rightly employing their present graces, without desiring to anticipate the designs of his providence upon them. You must then attend to the attraction of grace, and follow it step by step, without anticipating it: but remain peacefully in the bosom of your God, as an infant in the arms of its

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mother reposes on her breast. You should give each truth time to strike its roots deep into your heart: the essential point is to love. Digest each truth at your leisure, if you would draw good nourishment from it: nothing causes so great indigestion as eating much and in haste. Let there be no uneasy returns to self. Remember that your prayer can be only so far good, as it is free from restraint and uneasiness.

With regard to the affections, always keep to those which the view of your subject inspires you with; but do not exert too many efforts, for they will only spend your strength, heat your brain, and even dry you up, and, by employing you too much in your own activity, give you a dangerous confidence in your diligence, cause you to be too much affected with yourself, and, lastly, will attach you to sensible comforts, and by that means lay the foundation of great mistakes in those seasons when your affections become languid. Be content therefore to follow simply, and without too much reflection, the affectionate sentiments with which God will inspire you. It is one of the greatest rules in the spiritual life to confine our attention to the present moment. There is therefore no doubt but we ought to march on hastily, without thinking of any thing but laying the foundation of the building, and digging it deep by an entire renunciation of ourselves, and an unreserved resignation to the commands of God. how noble is this procedure of faith, this imitation of the conduct of Abraham. Happy will you be if you suffer God to take possession of you, and to do in you what he pleases; not according to your inclination, but his designs.

CHAP. VII.

That the way of naked Faith and pure Charity, is better and more secure, than that of lights and sensible relishes.

THOSE who are attached to God, only so far as he affords them pleasure and consolation, resemble those people who followed Jesus Christ, not for his doctrine, but for the loaves which he miraculously multiplied. They say, with St. Peter, "Lord, it is good for us to be here, let us build three tabernacles:" but "they know not what they say." After being intoxicated with the sweetness of mount Tabor, they mistake the son of God, and refuse to follow him up to mount Calvary.

They not only seek for sensible relishes, but also for extraordinary lights; that is to say, the understanding is desirous to see, while the heart wishes to be moved, by soft and flattering sensations. Is this to die to self? Is this the "just," who St. Paul declares, "shall live by faith?" They desire extraordinary lights which might denote spiritual gifts and intimate communion with God. Nothing can be more flattering to self love. All the grandeur of the world united could not so elevate the heart. It is a secret support of nature by every supernatural gift. It is an ambition the more refined as it is entirely spiritual; they would feel, taste, and possess God and his graces; they would see his light penetrate into the hearts of others, dive into futurity, and become quite extraordinary; for, an eagerness for

lights and sensations, by degrees, brings the soul to the secret desire of all these things.

The apostle shews us, "a more excellent way," by which he excites in us a holy emulation: when speaking of charity he says, "it seeketh not its own:" it desires not to be clothed, but suffers itself to be stripped of every thing. It is not the pleasure it seeks, but God, and the accomplishment of his will. If it finds a sweet sensibility in prayer, it makes a transitory use of it to assist its weakness, without resting in it, as a sick man, who, when he is recovering, makes use of a crutch, but health restored he walks alone. Just so, the soul, which, while it was weak and in its infancy, God nourished with milk, suffers itself to be weaned when God would feed it with strong meat. What would become of us if we were always to remain children? we must, as St. Paul says, "put away childish things." The first fervours were good to attract us, to detach us from gross and worldly pleasures by others more pure and elevated; and lastly, to accustom us to a life of prayer and recollection.

But to taste a delicious pleasure which obliterates the idea of the gross, and to enjoy a fervour which makes us live as if paradise was already open to us, is not to be crucified and die to ourselves. This life of lights and sensible relishes, when we are attached to them, so as to be entirely given up to them, is a very dangerous snare. He who has no other support will abandon prayer, and with it God, from the moment that source of pleasure is dried up. You know St. Theresa says, many people leave off to pray when their prayer

becomes most profitable.

How many souls, who, because when children in Jesus Christ, they were too tender and too dependant on this sweet milk, fall back and forsake the inward life, from the time that God begins to help them. Nor need we be surprised, they consider that as the sanctuary which is but the outer court of the temple, they would only mortify the outward senses to live internally more deliciously to themselves. From hence proceed so much infidelity and so many mistakes, even among those souls apparently the most fervent and abstracted. Nay even such as have spoken much of detachment, of dying to self, and parting with all, are yet frequently the most surprised and discouraged in the day of trial, when all sensible consolation is withdrawn. O how good it is to follow the path marked out by the blessed Johannes de Cruce, who would have us believe without seeing, and love without desiring a sensibility of it.

From an attachment to sensible relishes proceeds all illusion, we are much mistaken if we imagine this sensibility to be an evidence of security. On the contrary, the sensibility often occasions a falling off: it is a flattering bait to self love. They fear not to be deficient in their duty to God whilst this spiritual delight lasts. They "say, in their prosperity, I shall never be moved :" but when this rapture is over, they think all lost: thus they put their own sensibility and imagination in the place of God. Nothing preserves us from illusion but a pure faith. When we rely not on fancy, perception, or extraordinary lights, but God alone, in a pure and evangelical faith, receiving the consolation that is given, but never resting in it; not judging, but always obeying, supposing that we may easily be deceived, and that others can set us right; lastly, acting with simplicity