The true spouse of Jesus Christ/Chapter 16

by Alphonsus Liguori

CHAPTER XVI.

SILENCE, SOLITUDE, AND THE PRESENCE OF GOD.

Cassian says: "The religious prays little who prays only when she is on her knees in the choir or in the cell." To fulfil the obligations of her state, a religious should keep her soul continually united with God; but to maintain this constant union, continual prayer is necessary. There are three means of acquiring the habit of continual prayer; namely, silence, solitude, and the presence of God. These were the means that the angel suggested to St. Arsenius when he said: "If you wish to be saved, fly into solitude, observe silence, and repose in God by always keeping yourself in his presence." We shall speak of each of these means separately.

I.

Silence.

In the first place, silence is a great means of acquiring the spirit of prayer, and of disposing the soul to converse continually with God. We rarely find a spiritual soul that speaks much. All souls of prayer are lovers of silence that is called the guardian of innocence, the shield against temptations, and the fountain of prayer. For by silence devotion is preserved, and in silence good thoughts spring up in the soul. St. Bernard says: "Silence and the absence of noise in a certain manner force the soul to think of God and of eternal goods." Hence, the saints fled to the mountains, to caves, and to deserts, in order to find this silence, and escape the tumults of the world, in which, as was said to Elias, God is not found. Theodosius the monk observed silence for thirty-five years. St. John the Silent, who gave up his bishopric and became a monk, observed silence for forty-seven years before his death; and all the saints, even they who were not solitaries, have been lovers of silence.

Oh, how great the blessings that silence brings to the soul! The prophet says that silence shall cultivate justice in the soul; for, on the one hand, it saves us from a multitude of sins by destroying the root of disputes, of detractions, of resentments, and of curiosity; and on the other, it makes us acquire many virtues. How well does the nun practise humility who when others speak listens with modesty and in silence! How well does she practise mortification by not yielding to her inclination or desire to tell a certain anecdote, or to use a witty expression suggested by the conversation! How well does she practise meekness by remaining silent when unjustly censured or offended! Hence the same holy prophet said: In silence and in hope shall be your strength. Your strength shall be in silence and in hope; for by silence we shun the occasions of sin, and by hope we obtain the divine aid to lead a holy life.

But, on the other hand, immense evils flow from speaking too much. In the first place, as devotion is preserved by silence, so it is lost by a multitude of words. However recollected the soul may have been in prayer, if it afterwards indulge in long discourses it will find the mind as distracted and dissipated as if it had not made meditation. When the mouth of the burning furnace is opened the heat soon evaporates. St. Dorotheus says: "Beware of too much speaking, for it banishes from the soul holy thoughts and recollection with God." Speaking of religious that cannot abstain from inquiring after worldly news, St. Joseph Calasanctius said: "The curious religious shows that he has forgotten himself." It is certain that he who speaks too much with men converses but little with God, for the Lord says: I will lead her into the wilderness, and I will speak to her heart. ^[1] If, then, the soul wishes that God speak to its heart, it must seek after solitude; but this solitude will never be found by religious who do not love silence. "If," said the Venerable Margaret of the Cross, "we remain silent, we shall find solitude." And how will the Lord ever condescend to speak to the religious, who, by seeking after the conversation of creatures, shows that the conversation of God is not sufficient to make her happy? Besides, the Holy Ghost tells us that in speaking too much we shall not fail to commit some fault. In the multitude of words they shall not want sin.^[2] While they speak and prolong conversation without necessity, certain persons think that they are not guilty of any defect; but if they carefully examine themselves they will find some fault against modesty, of detraction, of curiosity, or at least of superfluous words. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say that a religious should speak only through necessity. For religious are bound in a special manner to give an account of idle words, for which, according to our Saviour, all men shall have to render an account. But I say unto you, that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall account for it in the day of judgment. ^[3]

I have used the words some defect; but when we speak too much we shall find that we have committed a thousand faults. St. James has called the tongue a universal evil: The tongue is . . . a world of iniquity.^[4] For, as a learned author remarks, the greater number of sins arise from speaking or from listening to others. Alas! how many nuns shall we see condemned on the day of judgment, on account of having had but little regard for silence! And what is most to be deplored is, that the religious that dissipates her mind by intercourse with creatures, and by too much speaking, will never be able to see her defects, and thus she will go from bad to worse. A man full of tongue shall not be established in the earth.^[5] The man that speaks too much shall walk with- out a guide, and therefore he shall fall into a thousand mistakes without the hope of ever perceiving them. Such a religious appears as if unable to live without speaking continually from morning till evening. She wishes to know what happens in the monastery and in the world; she goes about asking questions from all the others, and afterwards says, What evil am I doing? I answer you, dearly beloved sister, put an end to idle talk; endeavor to recollect yourself a little, and you will see how many defects you have committed by the multitude of your words.

St. Joseph Calasanctius used to say "that a dissipated religious is a source of joy to the devil." And justly, for by her dissipation she not only does not attend to her own sanctification, but is also an "obstacle to the advancement of others, by going about the monastery in search of some one to converse with her, by speaking in a loud voice in every place, and by a want of reverence, even in the choir and sacristy. St. Ambrose relates that a certain priest, while at prayer, was disturbed by the cries of a multitude of frogs: he commanded them to be silent, and they instantly obeyed. The holy Doctor then took occasion to say: "Shall senseless animals, then, be silent through respect for prayer, and shall men not be silent?"' And I add, will religious refuse to practise silence, after having entered the monastery in order to become saints, to observe their Rule, and to maintain holy recollection; or will they perform the office of the devil, by disturbing their sisters who wish to pray, and to be recollected with God? A certain author justly calls such talkative nuns "the home devils of monasteries," who do great injury to the Community.

According to St. Ignatius of Loyola, to know if there is fervor in a convent, it is enough to ascertain whether silence is observed or violated. A monastery in which the sisters speak continually is an image of hell; for where there is not silence there must be continual disputes, detractions, complaints, particular friendships, and factions. But, on the other hand, a monastery in which the religious love silence is an image of paradise: it excites devotion not only in all who live in it, but also in those who live in the world. It is related by Father Perez, of the Order of Discalced Carmelites, that while a secular he entered one day into a house of the Order, and was so edified and filled with devotion by the silence of the brethren, that he renounced the world and remained in the convent. Father Natalis, of the Society of Jesus, used to say, that to reform a religious house it is enough to establish in it the observance of silence. Because each of the religious would then practise recollection, and would attend to his own advancement. Hence, also, Gerson says that the holy founders of religious Orders have prescribed and earnestly recommended silence to their religious, because they knew how important its observance is for the maintenance of fervor. In his rules for nuns, St. Basil insists, not once, but frequently, on silence. St. Benedict commanded his monks to endeavor to observe continual silence.

And experience shows that in the monastery in which silence is observed, discipline is maintained; and on the other hand, where silence is neglected, but little fervor is found. Hence few religious become saints, because few love silence. In many monasteries the rule of silence is prescribed by the written rules, and is strongly recommended; but some of the religious appear not to know what silence is, and therefore they unhappily live in dissipation, without fervor, and always in trouble. But, dear sister, do not imagine that the negligence of others will excuse or exempt you from the rule of silence. Blessed Clare of Montefalco used to say that in the time of silence it is difficult to speak without committing a fault.

Some one may excuse herself, saying, that it is sometimes necessary to speak in order to get rid of melancholy; but how can the violation of silence free a religious from melancholy? Let us be persuaded that all the creatures on earth or in heaven cannot console us in our afflictions. God alone is the author of consolation; but will he console us at the very time we offend him? But when there is any necessity for speaking in the time of silence, at least ask permission. Another religious does not seek occasions to speak, but as often as they are presented she allows herself to be led into breaches of silence by others who wish to speak. But her condescension will certainly not excuse her from the fault. It is necessary, then, to do violence to yourself, and to go away, or to remain silent, and sometimes by putting the finger on the mouth to make a sign that it is a time of silence.

And even out of the hours of silence endeavor to practise it as much as possible if you wish to keep yourself recollected with God and free from imperfections; for there is no sin more easily committed than sins of the tongue. He, says Solomon, that keepeth his mouth keepeth his soul.^[6] And St. James says that he who sins not with the tongue is a perfect man: If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man.^[7] Hence it is the same thing to be a silent religious and a holy religious; for by observing silence she will be punctual to the rules, she will be devoted to prayer, to spiritual reading, and to her visits to the Holy Sacrament. Oh, how dear to God does the religious render herself who loves silence! — especially if by her silence on certain extraordinary occasions she offers to God an act of mortification; for example, when she feels greatly annoyed by long solitude, or when any very adverse or prosperous event occurs which she feels strongly impelled to relate to others. On the other hand, the religious who indulges in much speaking will be generally dissipated, will easily omit her meditations and other devout exercises, and thus will gradually lose all relish for God. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say: "The religious that has not a love for silence cannot find pleasure in the things of God." Hence the unhappy soul will abandon itself to worldly amusements, and thus retain nothing but the name and habit of a religious.

However, it is necessary to remark, that in monasteries the virtue of silence consists not in being always silent, but in observing silence when there is no necessity for speaking. Hence Solomon says that there is a time to keep silence, and a time to speak.^[8] But St. Gregory of Nyssa remarks that the time for silence is put before the time for speaking, because, as the saint adds, by silence we learn to speak well. By silence we learn to consider well what we shall afterwards say. But for a religious who wishes to become a saint, what is the time for silence and the time for speaking? The hours of silence for her are all the hours in which there is no necessity for speaking. The time for speaking is when necessity or charity obliges her to speak. Behold the excellent rule of St. John Chrysostom: "Then only should we speak when it is more useful to speak than to be silent." a Hence the saint gives the following advice: "Either remain silent, or say what is more profitable than silence." Oh! happy he who at death can say what the monk Pambo said: "That he did not remember to have ever uttered a word which he was sorry for having spoken." St. Arsenius used to say that he often repented of having spoken, but never of having remained silent. St. Ephrem gave this excellent lesson to religious: "Speak a great deal with God, and little with men." St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say the same: "The true servant of Jesus Christ bears all things; she labors much, and speaks little."

From all that has been said, every religious that wishes to live in union with God may see with what care she should shun the parlor. As the air that is breathed in the choir or in the cell is the most salubrious for religious, so the air of the grates is for them the most pestiferous. And what is the parlor but what St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi called it, a place of distractions, inquietudes, and of temptations. The Venerable Sister Mary Villani one day compelled the devil, on the part of God, to tell in what part of the monastery he gained most. The tempter answered: I gain in the choir, in the refectory, and in the dormitory: in these places I partly gain, and partly lose. But in the parlor I gain all, for the whole place is mine. Hence the Venerable Sister Philippa Cerrina had reason to call the parlor an infected place, in which the contagion of sin is easily caught. St. Bernardine of Sienna relates that a religious in consequence of having heard in the parlor an improper word miserably fell into a grievous sin. Truly happy was the holy virgin St. Fabronia, who afterwards gave her life for the faith at the age of nineteen; she would never allow herself to be seen at the grate by any secular, male or female. St. Teresa appeared after death to one of her spiritual children, and said to her: The religious that wishes to be a great friend of God must be an enemy of the grate.

Would to God that in all monasteries there were grates of perforated iron such as we find in some observant convents! A certain author relates that the Superior of a monastery procured a narrow grate; but the devil, through rage, first bent it, and afterwards sent it rolling through the house. The good Superior placed it, crooked as it was, in the parlor to give the nuns to understand that as the grate was hateful to hell so it was pleasing to God. Oh! what an awful account will the abbess have to give to God who introduces open grates, or who neglects to make the companions attend. In one of her letters St. Teresa wrote this great sentence: "The grates when shut are the gates of heaven; and when open they are the gates of danger" (she did not wish to say hell). And she added: " A monastery of nuns in which there is liberty serves to conduct them to hell rather than to cure their weakness."

What rapid progress in divine love does the religious make who resolves never to go to the grate! When you, dear sister, go to the parlor, be careful at least to conduct yourself like a religious. In your intercourse with seculars you should not only guard with great care against all affectionate expressions, but should also be very grave and reserved in the parlor. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi wished her nuns to be " like the wild deer"— these are her very words. And the Venerable Sister Hyacinth Marescotti used to say: " The courtesy of nuns consists in being discourteous by cutting short all long discourses in the parlor." This applies, ordinarily speaking, to long discouress even with spiritual persons. Mother Anne of Jesus, a Discalced Carmelite, said: "A nun acquires more fervor in the choir or in the cell than by the longest conferences in the parlor. Show all respect to directors, but you should treat with them only through necessity; despatch your business with them in a few words."

Should you ever happen to hear in the parlor an indecent word, go away immediately; or, at least, cast down your eyes, and change the discourse, or give no answer. In a monastery of the Venerable Sister Seraphina de Carpi two women began to speak about a certain marriage: the attendant at the turn heard the voice of Sister Seraphina (who was dead) saying, " Chase away, chase away these women." And whenever it is in your power, endeavor to change all discourses that savor of the world. St. Frances of Rome received a buffet from an angel because she did not change the conversation of certain ladies who spoke of worldly vanities. You should be still more careful to observe silence with your sisters in the monastery: for the occasion of breaking silence with them is more continual. Hence it is necessary to mortify curiosity. The Abbot John used to say: " Let him who wishes to restrain the tongue shut his ears by mortifying the curiosity of hearing news." It is also necessary to avoid the conversation of any religious who speaks frequently. It is, moreover, well to fix some time each day during which you will observe silence, remaining alone in your cell or in some solitary place in order to avoid the occasions of speaking.

Whenever you have to speak, be careful, in conformity with the advice of the Holy Ghost, Make a balance for thy words, to examine what you ought to say. Make a balance for your words that you may weigh them before you give expression to them. Hence St. Bernard says that "before your words come to the tongue, let them pass twice under the file of examination," that you may suppress what you should not utter. The same was said by St. Francis de Sales in other words, namely, that to speak without sin every one should keep a lock on his lips, that in opening his mouth to speak he might reflect well on what he wishes to say.

Before speaking you should consider —

1. Whether what you intend to say can injure charity, modesty, or exact observance.

2. Examine the motive that impels you to speak; for it sometimes happens that what a person says is good, but her intention is bad; she speaks either to appear spiritual, or to acquire a character for talent.

3. Examine to whom you speak, whether to your Superiors, to companions, or to inferiors: whether in the presence of seculars, or of the postulants, who may perhaps be scandalized at what you say.

4. Examine the time at which you speak, whether at the time of silence or of repose.

5. The place in which you speak, whether in the choir, in the sacristy, or the corridors; at the door or in the parlor.

6. Be careful to speak with simplicity, avoiding all affection; with humility, abstaining from all words of pride or vainglory; with sweetness, never uttering a word that savors of impatience, or that tends to the discredit of a neighbor; with moderation, by not being the first to give your opinion on any question that may be proposed, particularly if you are younger than the others; with modesty, by not interrupting any sister while she is speaking; and also by abstaining from every word that savors of the world, from all improper gestures, and immoderate laughter, and by speaking in a low tone of voice; for St. Bonaventure says that it is a great defect in a religious to speak in a loud voice, particularly at night. And should you, as Superior, be ever obliged to correct a sister, take care not to reprimand her in a loud voice for otherwise she will perceive that you speak through impatience, and then the reprimand will be unprofitable.

At recreation, which is the proper time for unbending the mind, speak when the others are silent, but endeavor as often as you can to speak on something that has reference to God. " Let us speak of the Lord Jesus," says St. Ambrose, " let us always speak of him." ' And what other enjoyment should a religious seek than to speak of her most amiable Spouse? He who has an ardent love for another, appears unable to speak of anything but of him. They who speak little of Jesus Christ, show that they have but little love for Jesus Christ. On the other hand, it often happens that good religious, after speaking on divine love, feel more fervor than after mental prayer. At the conversations of the servants of God, says St. Teresa, Jesus Christ is always present. Of this, Father Gisolfo, of the Congregation of the " Pious Workers," relates a memorable example, in the life of the Venerable Father Anthony de Collelis. He says that Father Constantine Rossi, the Master of novices, saw one day two of his young disciples, F. D. Anthony Torres, and F. D. Philip Orilia, conversing together, and with them a young man of most beautiful aspect. The Master of novices was surprised that two novices, whom he regarded as most exemplary, should speak to a stranger without permission: he therefore asked who was the young man whom he had seen conversing with them. They said there was no one conversing with them. But he afterwards learned that they were speaking of Jesus Christ, and understood that the person whom he saw in their company was our divine Saviour.

Except in the hours of recreation, and other extra-ordinary occasions, such as in attending the sick, or in consoling a sister in tribulation, it is always better to be silent. A religious of the Order of St. Teresa, as we find in the Teresian Chronicles, said that it is better to speak with God than to speak of God. But when obedience or charity obliges you to speak, or to have intercourse with creatures, you must always endeavor to find intervals, for at least repairing the losses caused by the distractions attendant on these external occupations; stealing at least as many little moments as possible to recollect yourself with God; thus following the counsel of the Holy Ghost: Let not the part of a good gift overpass thee.^[9] Do not allow that particle of time to pass away: give it to God, if you can have no more to give him during the day. But whenever you can abridge the conversation, abridge it under some pretext. A good religious seeks not pretexts, as some do, to prolong conversation, but endeavors to find out some means of shortening it. Let us remember that time is given us not to be spent unprofitably, but to be employed for God, and in acquiring merits for eternity. St. Bernardine of Sienna used to say that a moment of time is of as much value as God, because in each moment we can gain his friendship, or greater degrees of grace.

Prayer.

O my God, may the patience with which Thou hast borne me be forever blessed. Thou hast given me time to love Thee, and I have spent it in offending and displeasing Thee. Were I now to die, with what heartfelt pain should I end my life, at the thought of having spent so many years in the world, and of having done nothing. Lord, I thank Thee for still giving me time to repair my negligence, and so many lost years. O my Jesus! through the merits of Thy Passion assist me. I do not wish to live any longer for myself, but only for Thee, and for Thy love. I know not how much of life remains, whether it is long or short; but were it a hundred or a thousand years, I wish to spend them all in loving and pleasing Thee. I love Thee, O my Sovereign Good, and I hope to love Thee for eternity. I do not wish to be ever again ungrateful to Thee. I will no longer resist Thy love, which has so long called me to be entirely Thine. Shall I wait till Thou abandon me, and call me no more?

Mary, my mother, assist me, pray for me, and obtain for me perseverance in my resolution to be faithful to God.

II.

The Love of Solitude, and the Avoiding of Idleness.

I. The Love of Solitude.

Whosoever loves God, loves solitude; there the Lord communicates himself more familiarly to souls, because there he finds them less entangled in worldly affairs, and more detached from earthly affections. Hence, St. Jerome exclaimed: "O solitude, in which God speaks and converses familiarly with his servants!" ' O blessed solitude, in which God speaks and converses with his beloved spouses with familiarity, with great love and confidence! God speaks not at the grates, nor in the belvedere, nor in any other place in which religious indulge in useless laughter and idle talk. The Lord is not in the earthquake But where is he? I will lead her into the wilderness, and I will speak to her heart. He speaks in solitude, and there he speaks to the heart in words that inflame it with his holy love, as the sacred spouse attests: My soul melted when my beloved spoke. St. Eucherius relates that a certain man, desirous of becoming a saint, asked a servant of God where he should find God. The servant of God conducted him to a solitary place, and said: "Behold where God is found!" By these words he meant to say that God is found not amid the tumults of the world, but in solitude.

Virtue is easily preserved in solitude; and, on the other hand, it is easily lost by intercourse with the world, where God is but little known, and therefore his love, and the goods that he gives to those who leave all things for his sake, are but little esteemed. St. Bernard says that he learned more among the trees of the forest than from books and masters. Hence the saints, in order to live in solitude and far from tumult, have so ardently loved the caves, the mountains, and the woods. The land that was desolate and impassable shall be glad, and the wilderness shall rejoice, and shall flourish like the lily; it shall bud forth and blossom. . . . They shall see the glory of the Lord and the beauty of our God. The wilderness shall be a perennial fountain of joy and gladness to the soul that seeks it; it shall flourish like the lily in whiteness and innocence of life, and shall produce fruits of every virtue. These happy souls shall in the end be raised on high to see the glory and infinite beauty of the Lord. It is certain that to keep the heart united with God we must preserve in the soul the thoughts of God, and of the immense goods that he prepares for those who love him; but when we hold intercourse with the world, it presents to us earthly things that cancel spiritual impressions and pious sentiments. Hence, for a nun that delights in receiving visits and letters, in reading the newspapers, and in speaking frequently of the things of the world, it is impossible to be a good religious. Every time that she unnecessarily holds intercourse with seculars, she will suffer a diminution of fervor.

There is no one more deserving of pity than a nun who, being unable to go into the world, brings the world to herself by spending a great part of the day in vain amusements, in conversing with seculars at the grate, or in diverting herself with the sisters, laughing, talking, censuring others, and by seeking to learn what happens in the neighborhood. Shall a spouse of Jesus Christ, who should have no other pleasure than that of con- versing with her God, place her consolation in a life of distraction, and of intercourse with seculars, who by their conversation will infect her heart with the corrupt maxims of the world? Shall she thus spend the time that the Lord gives her in order to become a saint? O God! how can she squander that time the moments of which the saints would have purchased even at the cost of their blood? Alas! when one day she finds herself at the hour of death, what would she give for a day, or even for one of the many hours that she now loses! A certain religious said at the end of her life: "Oh that I had more time I would give it all to God!" But the unhappy soul desired time when for her time was no more.

Besides, I say to you, dear sister, God in his goodness has rescued you from the dangers of the world, and has given you the courage to forsake it; why, then, should you expose yourself to the same dangers by again holding intercourse with the world? Tertullian says that " we have escaped once from the waves of the world (in which so many perish); let us not voluntarily cast ourselves again into the midst of them," and expose our souls to the danger of perdition. The religious who wishes to become a saint should seek neither to know nor be known by the world; she should endeavor to the utmost of her ability neither to see nor to be seen by seculars. Blessed Clare of Montefalco spoke even to her brother with the veil drawn down; the abbess said that in conversing with her brother she might raise the veil. She answered: "Mother, since I speak only with the tongue, allow me to remain covered." The words of the Venerable Sister Frances Farnese are also very remarkable. " My sisters," said she, " we are shut up within these walls, not to see and to be seen, but to hide ourselves from creatures. The more we hide ourselves from them, the more Jesus Christ will unveil himself to us."

Worldlings shun solitude, and with good reason; for in solitude they feel more acutely the remorse of conscience, and therefore they go in search of the conversations and tumults of the world, that the noise of these occupations may stifle the stings of remorse. The religious, then, who flies from solitude shows that she, too, is a disorderly soul, who, in order to extinguish the remorse caused by her irregularities, seeks after the noise and bustle of the world. On the other hand, religious who live with a tranquil conscience cannot but love solitude; and when they find themselves out of it, they feel like fish out of water— they enjoy no peace, and are, as it were, in a violent state. It is true that man loves society; but what society preferable to the society of God? Ah! to withdraw from creatures and to converse in solitude with our Creator brings neither bitterness nor tediousness. Of this the Wise Man assures us: For her conversation hath no bitterness, nor her company any tediousness, but joy and gladness. The Venerable Father Vincent Carafa, General of the Society of Jesus (as has been said in another place), said that he desired nothing in this world, and that were he to desire anything, he would wish only for a little grotto, along with a morsel of bread, and a spiritual book, in order to live there always in solitude.

It is not true that a life of solitude is a life of melancholy: it is a foretaste and beginning of the life of the saints in bliss, who are filled with an immense joy in the sole occupation of loving and praising their God. Thus St. Jerome said, that flying from Rome he went to shut himself up in the cave of Bethlehem, in order to enjoy solitude. Hence he afterwards wrote: "To me solitude is a paradise." The saints in solitude appear to be alone, but they are not alone. St. Bernard said: "I am never less alone than when I find myself alone;" for I am then in the company of my Lord, who gives me more content than I could derive from the conversation of all creatures. They appear to be in sadness, but they are not sad. The world, seeing them far away from earthly amusements, regard them as miserable and disconsolate; but they are not so; they, as the Apostle attests, enjoy an immense and continual peace. As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing. The prophet Isaias attested the same when he said: The Lord therefore, will comfort Sion, and will comfort all the ruins thereof; and he will make her desert as a place of pleasure, and her wilderness as the garden of the Lord. Joy and gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving and the voice of praise. The Lord well knows how to console the solitary soul, and will give a thousandfold compensation for all the temporal pleasures which it has forfeited: he will render its solitude a garden of his delights. There joy and gladness shall be always found, and nothing shall be heard but the voice of thanksgiving and praise to the divine goodness. Hence, Cardinal Petrucci describes the happiness of a solitary heart in the following words: " It appears to be sad, and it is filled with celestial joy. Though it treads on the earth, its dwelling is in heaven. It asks nothing for itself, because in its bosom it contains an immense treasure. It appears to be agitated and overwhelmed by the tempest, and it is always in a secure harbor."

In order to find this happy solitude, it is not necessary for you, dear sister, to hide yourself in a cave or in a desert; even in the monastery, you can, whenever you wish, find the solitude which you desire. Shun the grates, shun useless conversations and discourses; love the choir and the cell; remain in the choir or cell whenever obedience or charity does not call you elsewhere; and thus you will find the solitude that is suited to you, and that God wishes from you. Thus David found it, even in the midst of the great concerns of a kingdom, and therefore he said: Lo, I have gone far off, flying away; and I abode in the wilderness. St. Philip Neri desired to retire into a desert, but God gave him to understand that he should not leave Rome, but that he should live there as in a desert. The Lord wishes the same from religious, whom he desires to be his true spouses; he wishes them to be enclosed in gardens, that in them he may be able to find his delights. My sister — my spouse is a garden enclosed. But Gilbert well remarks: "He knows not how to be a garden that does not wish to be enclosed." The nun who is unwilling to be enclosed, that is, careful not to bring into her heart the thoughts and dangers of the world by frequent intercourse with worldlings, cannot be the garden of Jesus Christ.

"Live therefore as a solitary," says St. Bernard, " retire not merely in body, but in spirit." Even when you are with the sisters at work, or at the common recreation, endeavor not to leave your solitude; be careful to keep yourself as much as possible recollected with God; and if you cannot withdraw in body from conversation, withdraw at least in affection and intention, by intending to remain there only because it is God's will that you should remain. Since you must sometimes have intercourse with creatures, you ought to act like a tender woman, who, being accustomed to remain always in a close room, far from the society of men, endeavors, when obliged to go into the street, to return as quickly as possible in order to escape the cold and bustle. It is thus that holy religious act when by duty or charity they are forced to converse with the sisters or with externs; they suffer a species of martyrdom, partly on account of their repugnance to hold intercourse with creatures, and partly through fear of committing some fault, and therefore they seek to abridge the conversation as much as possible.

When external occupations last for a long time, it is very difficult to escape defects. Even when they were employed in the conversion of sinners, Jesus Christ wished the holy apostles to retire from time to time into a solitary place, in order to give some repose to the spirit. Come apart into a desert place, and rest a little. Yes; for in external occupations, even of a spiritual nature, the soul falls into distractions, disquietudes, coldness of divine love, and imperfections; hence repose is always necessary to remove the stains contracted, and to acquire strength to walk better for the future. It is not necessary, then, to remain always in solitude; but, as St. Laurence Justinian has written, we ought to procure it whenever we can, and when we cannot, we ought to love it. Hence, when a religious is obliged to interrupt her retirement in order to serve the Community, or to relieve the necessity of a sister, she must do it with liberty of soul, without disturbing herself: otherwise she will show attachment to solitude, which is a great defect. But in going to treat with creatures her object must not be to amuse herself by their conversation, but to practise obedience or charity. Then, as soon as the occupation is over, she ought instantly to retire to her beloved solitude.

Hitherto we have spoken of the solitude of the body; we must now say something on the solitude of the heart, which is more necessary than the solitude of the body. "Of what use," says St. Gregory, "is the solitude of the body without the solitude of the heart? " That is, of what use is it to live in the desert if the heart is attached to the world? A soul detached and free from earthly affections, says St. Peter Chrysologus, finds solitude even in the public streets and highways. On the other hand, of what use is it to observe silence in the choir or in the cell, if affections to creatures are entertained in the heart, and by their noise render the soul unable to listen to the divine inspirations? I here repeat the words of our Lord to St. Teresa: "Oh, how gladly would I speak to many souls! but the world makes such a noise in their heart that my voice cannot be heard. Oh that they would retire a little from the world!"

Let us then understand what is meant by solitude of the heart. It consists in expelling from the soul every affection that is not for God, by seeking nothing in all our actions but to please his divine eyes. It consists in saying with David: What have I in heaven? and besides thee, what do I desire upon earth? . . . Thou art the God of my heart, and the God that is my portion forever. O my God, except Thee, what is there on earth or in heaven that can content me? Thou alone art the Lord of my heart, and Thou shalt always be my only treasure. In fine, solitude of the heart implies that you can say with sincerity, My God, I wish for Thee alone, and for nothing else.

Such a religious complains that she does not find God; but listen to what St. Teresa says: "Detach the heart from all things— seek God, and then you will find him." God can neither be sought nor found if he is not first known; but how can a soul attached to creatures comprehend God and his divine beauty? The light of the sun cannot enter a crystal vessel filled with earth; and in a heart occupied with affections to pleasures, to wealth, and to honors, the divine light cannot shine. Hence the Lord says: Be still, and sec that I am God. The soul, then, that wishes to see God must remove the world from her heart, and keep it shut against all earthly affections. This is precisely what Jesus Christ gave us to understand under the figure of a closed chamber, when he said: But when thou shalt pray, enter into thy chamber, and having shut the door, pray to thy Father in secret. That is, the soul, in order to unite itself with God in prayer, must retire into its heart (which, according to St. Augustine, is the chamber of which our Lord speaks), and shut the door against all earthly affections.

This is also the meaning of the words of Jeremiah: He shall sit solitary, and hold his peace; because he hath taken it upon himself. The solitary soul, that is, the soul that is free from all attachments, and in which earthly affections are silent, will unite itself with God in mental prayer by holy desires, by oblations of itself, and by acts of love: and then it will find itself raised above all created objects, so that it will smile at the worldling who sets so high a value on the goods of this earth, and submits to so many toils in order to secure their enjoyment, while it regards them as trifles, and utterly unworthy of the love of a heart created to love God, who is an infinite good. Hence Cardinal Petrucci says, that the love of a heart dedicated to the divine love is raised above all that is spread over the theatre of the world.

2. The Avoiding of Idleness.

But remember that by solitude I do not mean pure leisure, as if a religious were to be free from all occupations and from all care. God wishes that his spouses be solitary, but not idle. Some nuns lead a hidden and retired life, but in their retreat they either remain idle, without applying themselves to any work, or spend their time in vain reading, or in other useless occupations. They remain silent, but of this useless silence St. Basil says ' they shall render an account to God. Idle solitude is the solitude of beasts; solitude devoted to curious studies is worldly solitude; religious solitude is neither idle nor useless, but is all fruitful and holy. Religious should remain in their cells, like the bee, which in its little cell never ceases to make honey; and hence they should not waste their time, but should be employed either in prayer, or in reading spiritual books, or in manual works that will not hinder them to keep the mind on God. St. John Chrysostom says that in solitude the soul is not idle, but occupied in God. In a certain convent of St. Francis there was an idle brother who was always going about the house— now troublesome to one, and again to another. The saint called him Brother Fly. Would to God that in monasteries there were no Sister Fly, constantly going about, observing who is at the grate or at confession; who sends or receive presents, and the like. Such religious would deserve, like flies, to be expelled from the house, or at least to be shut up in a prison that they might cease to disturb others.

It is a common saying, that idleness is the parent of all vices, and it is founded on the oracle of the Holy Ghost: Idleness hath taught much evil.^[10] St. Joseph Calasanctius says: "The devil goes in pursuit of idle religious." And, according to St. Bonaventure, a religious assiduously employed is molested with one temptation, but an idle religious shall be assailed by a thousand. It is certain that to a nun the cell is a great help to practise recollection with God. But the same St. Joseph Calasanctius said that a religious " makes a bad use of her cell when while in it she neither speaks with God nor labors for God." We cannot be always at prayer, and therefore in this life it is necessary for religious to be employed in manual occupations. She hath sought wool and flax, and hath wrought by the counsel of her hands.^[11] Hence, St. Jerome prescribed to Demetriade to have wool always in her hands. All holy women, particularly religious, have employed themselves in manual work. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi, though so infirm and weak, took part in all the labors of the monastery, as well for the choir nuns as for the lay-sisters. She worked now in the kitchen, and again in the refectory; at one time she swept the convent, at another she carried water from the well. She labored so hard in making bread, that she distorted one of the bones of the hand. In a word, the author of her life says that she performed more work than four lay-sisters together.

And let it be observed, that it is an error to imagine that labor is injurious to bodily health, for it is certain that manual employment contributes greatly to the preservation of health, and this is the reason why lay-sisters ordinarily enjoy better health than the choir nuns. Ah! it is frequently not so much the danger of health, as the desire of escaping the pain attendant on labor, that makes us excuse ourselves from manual work. But the religious who looks at the crucifix will not endeavor to shun labor. Sister Frances of St. Angelo of the Carmelite Order complained one day to Jesus on the cross, that by severity of labor she had injured her hands. Jesus answered: " Frances, look at my hands, and then complain."

Besides, manual work contributes greatly to relieve the tediousness of solitude, and also to overcome temptations, which are very frequent in solitude. St. Anthony found himself one day so molested with immodest thoughts and so weary of solitude that he knew not what to do. An angel appeared and conducted the saint to a little garden. There he took the mattock and began to dig, and afterwards to pray; he next resumed the work, and again returned to prayer. From the conduct of the angel the saint learned that he was to live in solitude, and at the same time defend himself against temptations by passing from prayer to work and from work to prayer. A person should not be always employed at work; but it is impossible for a religious to be always at prayer without affecting her brain, and rendering herself utterly unfit for all spiritual exercises. Hence St. Teresa after death appeared to Sister Paula Mary of Jesus, and exhorted her not to fail to exercise herself in corporal works under the delusive pretext of devoting herself more to holy occupations; and the saint added that these manual exercises are a great help to eternal salvation.

Besides, manual works when performed without solitude and passion do not hinder us from praying. Sister Margaret of the Cross, Archduchess of Austria, a discalced nun, used to perform the most laborious offices of the monastery, and would say that labor is not only useful but necessary for nuns, since it does not hinder them from raising the heart to God. It is related that St. Bernard one day saw a monk who while he worked did not cease to pray. The saint said to him: " My brother, continue to do always what you do at present, and be of good cheer; for by acting in this manner you shall after death be exempt even from purgatory." The saint afterwards practised the same, as we read in his life. He did not neglect his external works, but he was at the same time wholly recollected in God. And thus every religious, while she works with her hands, should not neglect to keep her heart occupied with God; otherwise, all her external employments shall be without spiritual fruit, and shall be full of imperfections. Hence the Spouse of the Canticles says to the soul: Place me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm.^[12] He first tells her to place him as a seal upon her heart, and afterwards upon her arm; because if she has not God in the heart she cannot have him upon the arm; that is, her external works cannot be pleasing to him. But, on the other hand, St. Teresa says that "works of the active life, when they spring from divine love, are the highest perfection."

Hence it is an error in a religious to wish to remain always in solitude, or to shun all external occupations. But it is also an error in her to undertake voluntarily such a multiplicity of employments that she afterwards has not time to recollect herself with God. My son, meddle not with many matters; and if thou be rich thou shall not be free from sin.^[13] Son, says the Lord, do not burden yourself with so many concerns; for if you wish to attend to them all, you may indeed succeed, but not without sin. There are others who, when they undertake any business apply, themselves so closely to it that they render themselves unable to think of anything else. What has been undertaken should be done with diligence, but with tranquillity and without passion, so that the soul may have liberty to turn to God from time to time. You should labor; but you who are a religious should not work like a secular, toiling night and day in order to accumulate money. And for what purpose? In order to make presents, or to gratify vanity or caprice. It is necessary to work, but to work like a religious: hence attend first to the business of the soul; and afterwards to that of the body, employing yourself in external exercises, with a pure intention either of practising obedience or of assisting the Community, or of relieving your own pressing wants, and of avoiding idleness; but always without avidity or solicitude, which may hinder you from raising the heart to God. St. Antonine says that in every external occupation, however urgent, we must always keep a secret little corner within, in which we may take refuge and turn to God when we find ourselves oppressed and overwhelmed with business. Hence it is of great importance to take care in the beginning as well as in the progress of our work to raise the heart several times to God by an act of love, of oblation, of resignation, or by a petition for his graces. Why, for example, can you not, when employed in embroidering or in sewing, make at every moment an act of the love of God, or of oblation of yourself? I conclude this point. Fervent nuns in all their works are recollected in spirit, unite themselves more closely to God, and always acquire merit. But the tepid and negligent fabricate cobwebs; for they labor and toil through earthly motives, and thus lose all.

Prayer.

My Jesus, grant that I may love Thee ardently during the remainder of my life, and that I may be entirely Thine. I curse the days in which I have loved creatures so as to displease Thee. Henceforth I wish to love nothing but Thee. I entreat Thee to give me strength to detach my heart from all things that divert me from Thy love. Grant that my heart may be employed in regarding only Thee as the only object worthy of love. O Incarnate Word! Thou hast come into the world to dwell in our souls that Thou hast redeemed with Thy blood. Let my heart, then, be all Thine. Take possession of it and watch over all my wants; illuminate my soul, inflame me, and make me promptly obey all Thy wishes. My Jesus, my Sovereign Good, I love Thee and I esteem Thee above every good. I give myself entirely to Thee: accept me to serve Thee forever but to serve Thee not through fear, but through love. Thy majesty deserves to be feared, but Thy goodness deserves still more to be loved.

O Mary, my Mother and my refuge, obtain for me the grace to belong entirely to Jesus.

III.

The Presence of God.

1. Effects Produced by this Holy Exercise.

The practice of the presence of God is justly called by spiritual masters the foundation of a spiritual life, which consists in three things: the avoidance of sin, the practice of virtue, and union with God. These three effects the presence of God produces: it preserves the soul from sin, leads it to the practice of virtue, and moves it to unite itself to God by means of holy love.

I. As to the first effect, the avoidance of sin, there is no more efficacious means of subduing the passions, of resisting temptations, and consequently of avoiding sin, than the remembrance of God's presence. The angelic Doctor says: " If we always thought that God was looking at us, we would never, or scarcely ever, do what is displeasing in his eyes." And St. Jerome has written that the remembrance of God's presence closes the door against all sins." The remembrance of God," says the holy Doctor, " shuts out all sins." And if men will not dare in their presence to transgress the commands of princes, parents, or Superiors, how could they ever violate the laws of God if they thought that he was looking at them? St. Ambrose relates that a page of Alexander the Great, who held in his hand a lighted torch whilst Alexander was offering sacrifice in the temple, suffered his hand to be burnt sooner than be guilty of irreverence by allowing the torch to fall. The saint adds, that if reverence to his sovereign could conquer nature in a boy, how much more will the thought of the divine presence make a faithful soul overcome every temptation, and suffer every pain rather than insult the Lord before his face!

All the sins of men flow from their losing sight of the divine presence. " Every evil," says St. Teresa, "happens to us because we do not reflect that God is present with us, but imagine that he is at a distance." And before her David said the same: God is not before his eyes; his ways are filthy at all times.^[14] Sinners forget that God sees them, and therefore they offend him at all times. The Abbot Diocles went so far as to say that " he who distracts himself from the remembrance of the presence of God becomes either a beast or a devil." And justly; for he shall be instantly assailed by carnal or diabolical desires which he will not have strength to resist.

On the other hand, the saints by the thought that God was looking at them have bravely repelled all the assaults of their enemies. This thought gave courage to holy Susanna to resist the temptations of the Elders, and even to despise their threats against her life. Hence she courageously said to them: It is better for me to fall into your hands without doing it than to sin in the sight of the Lord.^[15] It is better to fall into your hands and to die without sin than to offend God before his face. This thought also converted a wicked woman who dared to tempt St. Ephrem; the saint told her that if she wished to sin she must meet him in the middle of the city. But, said she, how is it possible to commit sin before so many persons? And how, replied the saint, is it possible to sin in the presence of God, who sees us in every place? At these words she burst into tears, and falling prostrate on the ground asked pardon of the saint, and besought him to point out to her the way of salvation. St. Ephrem placed her in a monastery, where she led a holy life, weeping over her sins till death.3 The same happened to the abbot Paphnutius and a sinner called Thais. She tempted him one day, saying that there was no one to see them but God. The saint with a stern voice said to her: " Then you believe that God sees you, and will you commit sin?" Thais was thunderstruck, and filled with horror for her sinful life: she gathered together all her richer, clothes, and jewels which she had earned by her infamous practices, burned them in the public square, and retired into a monastery, where she fasted on bread and water every day for three successive years, always repeating this prayer: " O Thou who hast made me, have mercy on me! My God, who hast created me, have pity on me!" After these three years she happily ended her life by a holy death. It was afterwards revealed to Paul, a disciple of St. Anthony, that this happy penitent was placed among the saints on an exalted throne of glory.

Behold the efficacy of the remembrance of the divine presence to make us avoid sins Let us then always pray to the Lord, saying with Job: Set me beside thee, and let any mans hand fight against me.^[16] My God, place me in Thy presence; that is, remind me in every place that Thou seest me, and then let all my enemies assail me: I shall always defeat them. Hence St. Chrysostom concludes: " If we keep ourselves always in the presence of God, the thought that he sees all our thoughts, that he hears all our words, and observes all our actions will preserve us from thinking any evil, from speaking any evil, and from doing any evil."

II. As to the second effect, the practice of virtue, the presence of God is also a great means. Oh, what valor does a soldier exhibit in the presence of his sovereign! The sole thought that his prince by whom he shall be punished or rewarded is present inspires him with great courage and strength. Thus also when such a religious is in the presence of her Superior, with what exterior recollection does she pray, with what modesty and humility does she treat the sisters; with what care does she execute the directions that she receives! Hence if they reflected that God was looking at all their actions, all religious would do all things well, with a pure intention, without seeking to please any one but God, and without any regard to human respect. St. Basil says that were a person to find himself in the presence of a king and a peasant, his sole concern would be to please the king without any regard to the wishes of the peasant. Thus he that walks in the divine presence is regardless of the pleasure of creatures, and seeks only to please God, who sees him always.

III. Finally, as to the third effect of the divine presence, that is, to unite the soul to God, it is an infallible rule that love is always increased by the presence of the object loved. This happens even among men, although the more they converse together, the more their defects are discovered. How much more shall the love of a soul for God increase if it keep him before its eyes! for the more it converses with him, the better it comprehends his beauty and amiableness. The morning and the evening meditation are not sufficient to keep the soul united with God. St. John Chrysostom says, that even water, if removed from the fire, soon returns to its natural temperature; and therefore after prayer it is necessary to preserve fervor by the presence of God, and by renewing our affections.

St. Bernard says of himself, that in the beginning of his conversion, when he found himself disturbed, or his fervor cooled, peace and the ardor of divine love were instantly restored by the remembrance of a deceased or absent saint. Now, how much greater the effect which must be produced on a soul that loves God, by remembering that he is present, and that he is asking her love David said that by the remembrance of his God he was filled with joy and consolation. I remembered God, and was delighted.^[17] However great the affliction and desolation of a soul may be, if it loves God it will be consoled and freed from its affliction by remembering its beloved Lord. Hence, souls enamoured of God live always with a tranquil heart and in continual peace; because, like the sunflower that always turns its face to the sun, they in all events and in all their actions seek always to live and act in the presence of God. "A true lover," says St. Teresa, "always remembers her beloved."2

2. Practice of the Presence of God.

Let us now come to the practice of this excellent exercise of the divine presence. This exercise consists partly in the operation of the understanding, and partly in the operation of the will: of the understanding, in beholding God present; of the will, in uniting the soul to God, by acts of humiliation, of adoration, of love, and the like: of the latter we shall speak more particularly hereafter.

I. With regard to the intellect, the presence of God may be practised in four ways:

I. By imagining that our Redeemer, Jesus Christ, is present, that he is in our company, and that he sees us in whatsoever place we may be. We can at one time represent him in one mystery, and again in another: for example, now an infant lying in the manger of Bethlehem, and again a pilgrim flying into Egypt; now a boy working in the shop of Nazareth, and again suffering as a criminal in his Passion in Jerusalem, scourged, or crowned with thorns, or nailed to a cross. St. Teresa praises this method of practising the presence of God. But it is necessary to remark, that though this method is good, it is not the best, nor is it always profitable: first, because it is not conformable to truth; for Jesus Christ, as God and man together, is present with us only after Communion, or when we are before the Blessed Sacrament. Besides, this mode is liable to illusion, or may at least injure the head by the efforts of the imagination. Hence, should you wish to practise it, you must do it sweetly, only when you find it useful, and without laboring to represent in the mind the peculiar features of our Saviour, his countenance, his stature, or color. It is enough to represent him in a confused manner, as if he were observing all we do.

2. The second method, which is more secure and more excellent, is founded on the truth of faith, and consists in beholding with eyes of faith God present with us in every place, in considering that he encompasses us, that he sees and observes whatever we do. We indeed do not see him with the eyes of the flesh. Nor do we see the air, yet we know for certain that it surrounds us on every side, that we live in it; for without it we could neither breathe nor live. We do not see God, but our holy faith teaches that he is always present with us. Do not I fill heaven and earth, saith the Lord?^[18] Is it not true, says God, that I fill heaven and earth by my presence? And as a sponge in the midst of the ocean is encompassed and saturated with water, so, says the Apostle, we live in God, we move in God, and have our being in God.^[19] And our God, says St. Augustine, observes every action, every word, every thought of each of us, as if he forgot all his other creatures, and had to attend only to us. Hence, observing all we do, say, and think, he marks and registers all, in order to demand an account on the day of accounts, and to give us then the reward or the chastisement that we have deserved.

This second mode of practising the divine presence does not fatigue the mind; for the exercise of it we need only enliven our faith with an affectionate act of the will, saying: My God, I believe firmly that Thou art here present. To this act we can easily add the acts of love, or of resignation, or of purity of intention, and the like.

3. The third means of preserving the remembrance of the presence of God is to recognize him in his creatures, which have from him their being, and their power of serving us. God is in the water to wash us, in the fire to warm us, in the sun to enlighten us, in food to nourish us, in clothes to cover us, and in like manner in all other things that he has created for our use. When we see a beautiful object, a beautiful garden, or a beautiful flower, let us think that there we behold a ray of the infinite beauty of God, who has given existence to that object. If we converse with a man of sanctity and learning, let us consider that it is God who imparts to him a small portion of his own holiness and wisdom. Thus, also, when we hear harmonious sounds, when we feel a fragrant odor, or taste delicious meat or drink, let us remember that God is the being who by his presence imparts to us these delights, that by them we may be induced to aspire to the eternal delights of paradise.

Let us accustom ourselves to behold in every object God, who presents himself to us in every creature; and let us offer him acts of thanksgiving and of love, remembering that from eternity he has thought of creating so many beautiful creatures that we might love him. St. Augustine says: Learn to love your Creator in creatures; and fix not your affection on what God has made, lest you should become attached to creatures and lose him by whom you, too, have been created. This was the practice of the saint. At the sight of creatures he was accustomed to raise his heart to God; hence he exclaimed with love: Heaven and earth and all things tell me to love Thee. When he beheld the heavens, the stars, the fields, the mountains, he seemed to hear them say: Augustine, love God, for he has created you for no other end than that you might love him.

Thus, likewise, St. Teresa, when she beheld the plains, the sea, the rivers, or other beautiful creatures, felt as if they reproached her with ingratitude to God. Thus also St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi, holding in her hand a flower or an apple, and looking at it, became enraptured with divine love, saying within herself: Then my God has thought from eternity of creating this fruit for my sake, and to give me a proof of the love that he bears me! It is also related of St. Simon Salo, that when in walking through the fields he saw flowers or herbs, he would strike them with his staff, saying: "Be silent! be silent! you reproach me with not loving that God who has made you so beautiful for my sake, that I might be induced to love him: I have already heard you; cease; reprove me no longer; be silent."

4. The fourth and most perfect means of remembering the divine presence is to consider God within us. We need not ascend to heaven to find our God; let us be recollected within ourselves, and in ourselves we shall find him. To treat in prayer with God as at a distance, causes great distraction. St. Teresa used to say: "I never knew how to make mental prayer as it ought to be made till God taught me this manner of praying: in this recollection within myself I have always found great profit."

To come to what is practical: It is necessary to know that God is present in us, in a manner different from that in which he is present in other creatures; in us he is present as in his own temple and his own house. Know you not, says the Apostle, that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?^[20] Hence our Saviour says, that into a soul that loves God, he comes with the Father and Holy Ghost, not to remain there for a short time, but to dwell in it forever, and there to establish an everlasting habitation. If, any one love me, . . . my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and will make our abode with him.^[21]

The kings of the earth, though they have their great palaces, have, notwithstanding, their particular apartments in which they generally live. God is in all places; his presence fills heaven and earth; but he dwells in a particular manner in our souls, and there, as he himself tells us by the mouth of the Apostle, he delights to remain as in so many gardens of pleasure. I will dwell in them, and will walk among them, and I will be their God.^[22] There he wishes us to love him and to pray to him: for he remains in us full of love and mercy, to hear our supplications, to receive our affections, to enlighten us, to govern us, to bestow on us his gifts, and to assist us in all that can contribute to our eternal salvation. Let us then often endeavor, on the one hand, to enliven our faith in this great truth, and annihilate ourselves at the sight of the great majesty that condescends to dwell within us; and on the other, let us be careful to make acts at one time of confidence, at another of oblation, and again of love of his infinite goodness; now thanking him for his favors, at another time rejoicing in his glory; and again asking counsel in our doubts; consoling ourselves always in the possession of this Sovereign Good within us, certain that no created power can deprive us of him, and that he will never depart from us unless we first voluntarily banish him from our hearts.

This was the little cell that St. Catharine of Sienna built within her heart, in which she lived always retired, always engaged in loving colloquies with God; thus she defended herself against the persecution of her parents, who had forbidden her to retire any more to her chamber for the purpose of praying. And in this little cell the saint made greater progress than she did by retiring to her room; for she was obliged to leave her chamber several times in the day. This interior cell she never left, but remained in it always recollected with God. Hence St. Teresa, speaking of the divine presence in our interior, said: " I believe that they who are able to lock themselves up in this little heaven in their souls, where he who created them is always present, walk in an excellent path, because they make great progress in a short time."

In a word, by this exercise of the presence of God the saints have succeeded in acquiring great treasures of merits. I set the Lord always in my sight, says the royal prophet, for he is at my right hand that I be not moved. I endeavor to consider God always present, and observing all my actions. Blessed Henry Suso applied himself with so much attention to this holy exercise that he performed all his actions in the divine presence, and thus continually conversed with God by tender affections. St. Gertrude acquired the habit of this exercise so perfectly, that our Lord said of her to St. Mechtilde: "This beloved spouse always walks in my presence, seeking always to do my will, and directing all her works to my glory." This was also the practice of St. Teresa; for in whatever occupation she found herself she never lost sight of her beloved Lord.

If, then, you ask me how often in the day you should remember the presence of God, I will answer you with St. Bernard3 that you ought to remember it every moment. As there is not a moment, says the saint, in which we do not enjoy the benefits of God, so there is not a moment in which we should not remember God, and prove our gratitude. If you knew that the king was always thinking of you and of your welfare, though he should confer no real benefit, still you could not remember his affection without feeling an interior love for him. It is certain that your God is always thinking of you, and that he incessantly confers favors on you at one time by his lights, at another by internal helps, and again by loving visits. Is it not ingratitude in you to be forgetful of him for any length of time? It is then a duty to endeavor to remember always, or at least as often as we can, the divine presence.

This was the advice of the Lord to Abraham: Walk before me, and be perfect.^[23] Endeavor to walk always in my presence, and you shall be perfect. Tobias gave the same advice to his son: All the days of thy life have God in thy mind.^[24] My son, during your whole life keep God always before your eyes. The exercise of the divine presence St. Dorotheus recommended in a most special manner to his disciple, St. Dositheus, who besought him to tell him what he should do in order to be a saint: "Consider that God is always present, and that he is looking at you." St. Dorotheus relates that the good disciple was so faithful to the advice, that in all his occupations, and even in the severe infirmities with which he was visited, he never lost sight of God. Thus after being a soldier, and a dissolute young man, he attained in five years so high a degree of sanctity, that after death he was seen in heaven seated on a throne of glory equal to that of the most holy among the anchorets.

The great servant of God, Father Joseph Anchieta, who by the exercise of the divine presence arrived at such perfection, used to say that nothing else but our inattention to it can divert us from so holy an exercise. The prophet Micheas says: I will show thee, O man, what is good, and what the Lord requireth of thee, . . . to walk solicitous with thy God.^[25] O man, I will show you in what your welfare consists, and what the Lord demands of you; behold it: he wishes you to be solicitous, and that your whole concern be to do all your actions in his presence; because then all shall be well done. Hence, St. Gregory Nazianzen has written: "So often should we remember God as we draw breath." He adds, that by doing this we shall do all things. Another devout author says that meditation may in some cases be omitted; for example, in the time of sickness, or of important business, which cannot be deferred; but the exercise of the presence of God must be always practised by acts of purity of intention, of oblation, and the like, as will be more fully explained hereafter.

II. Hitherto we have spoken of the operation of the intellect; allow me to speak of the application of the will to the holy exercise of the divine presence. And it is necessary, first, to know that to remain always before God, with the mind always fixed on him, is the happy lot of the saints; but in the present state it is morally impossible to keep up the presence of God without interruption. Hence we should endeavor to practise it to the best of our ability, not with a solicitous inquietude and indiscreet effort of the mind, but with sweetness and tranquillity.

There are three means of facilitating the application of the will to this exercise.

I. The first method consists in frequently raising the heart to God, by short but fervent ejaculations, or loving affections towards God, present with us. These may be practised in all places and in all times, in walking, at work, at meals, and at recreation. These affections may be acts of election, of desire, of resignation, of oblation, of love, of renunciation, of thanksgiving, of petition, of humiliation, of confidence, and the like. In whatever occupation you find yourself, you can very easily turn to God from time to time and say to him:

My God, I wish only for Thee, and nothing else.

I desire nothing but to be all Thine.

Dispose as Thou pleasest of me, and of all that I possess.

I give myself entirely to Thee.

I love Thee more than myself.

I wish only what Thou wishest.

I renounce all things for the love of Thee.

I thank Thee for the great graces Thou hast bestowed upon me.

Assist me, have mercy on me.

Give me Thy holy love.

Lord, I should be at this moment in hell.

I delight in Thy felicity.

I would wish that all men loved Thee.

Do not permit me to be separated from Thee.

In Thee I place all my confidence.

When shall I see Thee and love Thee face to face.

Let all that I do and suffer be done and suffered for Thee. May Thy holy will be always done!

The ancient Fathers set great value on all these short prayers, by which we can practise the presence of God more easily than by long prayers. And St. John Chrysostom used to say, that he that makes use of these short prayers or acts shuts the door against the devil, and prevents him from coming to molest him with bad thoughts.

At certain special times it is necessary more particularly to enliven our faith in the divine presence. First, in the morning when we awake, by saying: My God, I believe that Thou art here present, and that Thou wilt be present with me in every place to which I shall go this day; watch over me, then, in all places, and do not permit me to offend Thee before Thy divine eyes. Secondly, at the beginning of all our prayers, whether mental or vocal. The Venerable Cardinal Caracciolo, Bishop of Avesa, used to say, that he that makes mental prayer with distractions, shows that he has been negligent in making the act of faith in the presence of God. Thirdly, on occasion of any temptation against patience or chastity; for example, if you are seized with any sharp pain, or receive any grievous insult, or if any scandalous object be presented to you, instantly arm yourself with the divine presence, and excite your courage by remembering that God is looking at you. It was thus that David prepared himself to resist temptations. My eyes are ever towards the Lord; for he shall pluck my feet out of the snare. I will keep my eyes on my God, and he will deliver me from the snares of my enemies. You must do the same when you have occasion to perform any very difficult act of virtue; you must imitate the valorous Judith, who, after having unsheathed the sword, and taken Holofernes, who was asleep, by the hair of the head, turned to God before she gave the stroke, and said: Strengthen me, O Lord, in this hour.^[26] Thus she courageously cut off his head.

2. The second method of preserving the presence of God by acts of the will is to renew always in distracting employments the intention of performing them all with the intention of pleasing God. And therefore, in the beginning of every action or occupation, whether you apply yourself to work, go to table, or to recreation, or to repose, say: Lord, I do not intend in this work my pleasure, but only the accomplishment of Thy will. In the course of the action endeavor to renew your intention, saying: My God, may all be for Thy glory. By these acts the presence of God is preserved without fatiguing the mind; for the very desire of pleasing God is a loving remembrance of his presence. It is also useful to fix certain times, or particular signs, in order to remember the divine presence; as when the clock strikes, when you look at the crucifix, when you enter or leave the cell. Some are accustomed to keep in their room some particular sign, to remind them of the presence of God.

3. The third method is, when you find yourself very much distracted during the day, and the mind oppressed with business, to procure leave from the Superior to retire, at least for a little, to the choir or to the cell, in order to recollect yourself with God. Were you on any day to feel bodily weakness, arising from excess of labor and long fasting, would you not take some refreshment in order to be able to proceed with the work? How much more careful should you be to treat the soul in a similar manner, when it begins to fail in courage, and to grow cold in divine love, in consequence of being a long time without food; that is, without prayer and recollection with God? I again repeat what Father Balthasar Alvarez used to say, that a soul out of prayer is like a fish out of water; the soul is, as it were, in a state of violence. Hence, after being a long time engaged in business and distracting occupations, a Christian should retire (if I may use the expression), to take breath in solitude, recollecting himself there with God, by affections and petitions. The life of bliss in heaven consists in seeing and loving God, and therefore I infer that the felicity of a soul on this earth consists also in loving and seeing God, not openly as in paradise, but with the eyes of faith, by which it beholds him always present with it; and thus acquires great reverence, confidence, and love towards its beloved Lord. He that lives in this manner, begins, even in this valley of tears, to live like the saints in heaven, who always see God. They always see the face of my Father,^[27] and therefore they cannot cease to love him. Thus he that lives in the divine presence will despise all earthly things, knowing that before God all is misery and smoke; and will begin in this life to possess that Sovereign Good who contents the heart more than all other goods.

Prayer.

My adored Jesus, Thou hast not refused to give all Thy blood for me; and shall I refuse to give Thee all my love? No, my beloved Redeemer, I offer myself entirely to Thee; accept me and dispose of me as Thou pleasest. But since Thou givest me the desire of Thy pure love, teach me what I ought to do, and I will do it. Grant that this heart that was once miserably deprived of Thy love may now neither love nor seek anything but Thee. Grant that my will may wish only what Thou wishest. Unhappy me! I once, for the sake of my pleasures, despised Thy will, and forgot Thee. Grant that from this day forward I may forget all things, even myself, to think only of loving and pleasing Thee. O my God, amiable above every good, how bitterly do I regret that hitherto I have had so little regard for Thee! Lord, pardon me, draw me entirely to Thyself; do not permit me to love Thee but little, or to love anything but Thee. I hope for all things from Thy goodness, and from Thy merits, O my Jesus!

And I place all confidence in thee, O my Queen, my advocate, and my Mother, Mary. Have pity on me, and recommend me to thy Son, who hears thy prayers, and refuses thee nothing.

1. Osee, ii. 14.
2. Prov. x. 19
3. Matt. xii 36.
4. James, iii. 6
5. Ps. xxxix. 12
6. Prov. xiii. 3.
7. James, iii. 2.
8. Eccles. iii. 7
9. Ecclus. xiv. 14
10. Ecclus. xxxiii. 29.
11. Prov. xxxi. 13.
12. Cant. viii. 6.
13. ecclus. xi. 10
14. Ps. x. 5.
15. Dan. xiii. 23.
16. Job, xvii. 3.
17. Ps. lxxvi. 4.
18. Jer. xxiii. 24.
19. Acts, xvii. 28.
20. 1 Cor. iii 16.
21. John, xiv. 23.
22. 2 Cor. vi. 16.
23. Gen. xvii. 1.
24. Tob. iv. 6
25. Mich. vi. 8.
26. Judith, xiii. 9.
27. Matt. xviii. 10.