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AMONG the many encomiums and praises bestowed on
the holy Virgin, St. Cecilie, it is recorded of her,
that she kept the Gospel of Christ continually enshrined in
her breast : the meaning of which seems to be, that she
selected such passages from our Lord's life and actions,
contained in that divine volume, as tended most to raise
her devotion, and inflame her love. On these she medi
tated day and night, and such was the fervor of her heart,
and the ardor of her affections, that she did not content
herself with a single perusal, but was accustomed to read
the most striking parts many times over, and carefully
deposit them in the sanctuary of her heart. The like
practice I recommend to you, as I look upon it to be the
most material branch of spiritual study, and even the most
beneficial of all devout exercises, and that which is most
capable of leading you to the summit of Christian perfec
tion. For surely the holy life of Christ, not merely free
from the minutest blemish, but even divinely perfect, must
be the best and only sure fountain whence we can hope to
draw the perfect knowledge necessary — to arm our breast
against the flattering, yet fleeting vanities of the world ;
to render us steady amidst tribulations and adversities ;
and finally, to preserve us from vice, and facilitate the
possession of every virtue. Frequent and habitual medita
tions on that divine subject being the readiest means to
introduce the soul, as it were, into such a kind of famil
iarity, confidence, and love of him, as will insensibly create
in it a contempt and distaste of everything else, and will
effectually instruct it, both in what to do, and what to
ftvoid doing.
And first, that the contemplation of Christ's blessed life
* engthens the heart against the transient pleasures and
* ceitful vanities of the world, sufficiently appears in the
3
4 ST. BONAVENTUH&S PREFACE.
life of the sacred virgin, St. Cecilie, already mentioned,
whose capacious heart was so filled with the divine senti
ments gathered thence, that it had no space left for the
entrance of vain affections. Even amidst the allurements
of magnificence, the dissipations of music and other sensual
pleasures, profusely combining to render the solemnity of
her nuptials the more inviting to the sense, her heart, un
affected by them, and, as it were, insensible of all these
flattering appearances, remained immovably fixed on God,
to whom she often recurred in these words : " O Lord !
render my body and heart pure and undefiled, that I be
not confounded"
Secondly, that it renders us steady amidst tribulations
and adversities. St. Bernard thus argues : " Whence re
ceived the martyrs their unshaken resolutions amidst the
anxiety of their torments but from the sacred wounds of
Jesus, in which their hearts and affections were wholly
centered ? Whilst they beheld and felt their bodies torn
and severed on the rack, their minds remained still cheer
ful and triumphant. And where can we then suppose the
soul of each glorious sufferer to have been but in the
wounds of Christ, ready to open for its reception ? Had it
been lodged in its own bosom, attentive to what passed
within its lacerated fwwne, it had been too sensible of the
torturing instrument, to remain proof against the excru
ciating torments inflicted ; its pains had been an overmatch
for its patience ; it must have sunk under the pressing
weight, and denied God." From the same divine source
not only martyrs, but even confessors, virgins, and all who
lead a virtuous life, have derived their patience amidst
tribulations, and the various trials and infirmities incident
to a mortal state ; as may be instanced in the glorious St.
Francis and St. Clare, who, under the severe pressure of
afflictions, penury, and infirmities, were not only patient,
but joyful. The same may be daily remarked in all devout
persons ; this is entirely owing to their pious meditations
on the life of Christ, which, as it were, carry their souls
out of their bodies to transplant them in Christ.
Thirdly, that it is a powerful check to vice, and greatly
disposes us to the possession of virtues, is evident from
this, that the perfection of virtues is only to be found in
the blessed life of Jesus Christ. Where else shall we find
such moving examples, such sublime doctrines of heroic
poverty, extraordinary humility, profound wisdom, fervent
prayers, obedience, meekness, patience, and other virtues,
as in this most holy life ?
ST. BONAVENTZ RE'S PREFACE, g
Wherefore, St. Bernard says, " that he labors in vain in
the pursuit of virtue, who hopes to find it anywhere but
in the Lord of virtues, whose doctrine is the school of
prudence, whose mercy is the work of justice, whose life
is the model of temperance, and whose death is the pledge
of fortitude." Whoever, therefore, follows this divine
pattern, can neither be deceived himself, nor deceive others,
for the soul by frequent reflection on his virtues, is both
animated and instructed in the imitation and pursuit of
them, and at length becomes so habituated to virtue, that
the bare light of it is sufficient to direct her judgment in
discerning truth from falsehood. This is so true, that
many very illiterate persons have become, by the same
means, profoundly versed in the most sublime mysteries
of God. By what other means than that of a familiar and
mental conversation with his divine Lord could St. Francis
of Asissium, attain to such an eminent state of perfection,
so deep a knowledge of the holy scriptures, and that dis
cernment with which he discovered the frauds of his spir
itual enemies, and baffled the power of vice ? Hence it
was, that he grew so passionately aifected with the life of
Christ, as to render his own life almost a picture of it. x
He copied to the utmost of his power, the practice of every
virtue ; and Christ, at length, crowning his affections with
the accomplishment of his wishes, he became totally trans
formed into his Saviour, and received the implosion of
his sacred wounds on his person. To such an eminent
state is the soul led by meditating on the life of its
Saviour : and yet this is but, as it were, the foundation
on which the soul rises to more sublime degrees of contem
plation. For the unction therein to be found purifying by
degrees, and elevates the soul, instructs it, and renders it
full of all divine knowledge : but this tends not immedi
ately to our present purpose.
Now, I propose to introduce you, gentle reader, to the
meditations on the blessed life of our Saviour, though I
could wish you a more learned and able guide, being my
self verv unequal to so great a task. However, as I con
ceive it'to be more for your advantage that I rather say
something than remain silent on so useful a subject, I shall
endeavor to make the best use of my slender ability, by
discoursing in a familiar, though plain and unpolished
style : that you may the more easily comprehend the matter
here treated, and study rather to improve your mind and
heart than flatter your ears.
It is not elegance of speech, but the study of the life of
0 ST. BONAVSLNTURE a PREFACE.
Jesus you are here to give attention to. For as St. Hierom
says, " Plain language reaches the heart, while florid
speeches stop at the ears which they flatter." Still I am
in hopes that the mediocrity of my capacity will the better
be adapted to the sincerity of your good intention. But
1 hope still more, that if you are but diligent in the exer
cise of this devout study, that the Lord, whose life is here
treated of, will become your master and instructor. You
are not, however, to imagine that we can either meditate
on, or recollect every circumstance relating to our blessed
Saviour. Nevertheless, to make the more devout impres
sion upon your mind, i shall relate those things in the
same manner as if they reallvhad happened, which either
have in fact, or may reasonably be Relieved to have hap
pened, a -cording to such devout imaginations as a pious
mind is capable of forming. For it is even in the study
of holy scriptures allowable to meditate, expound, and un
derstand differently as we concieve most expedient. In
this, however, all duo regard must be paid to the truth of
the facts of his life, to his justice and divine doctrine, and
nothing be inconsistent with faith and good works. What
ever, therefore, I shall here lay down as acted or said by
Christ Jesus which cannot be proved by scripture to be
so done or said, you are to take m no other sense than as
the effect of a devout meditation : that is, in other words,
take it as if I said, meditate or consider, that Christ might
have said or done so. If, therefore, you are desirous of
reaping fruit from this work, you must earnestly endeavor
by a serious attention to be present to everything that is
here written of our Lord Jesus Christ. And that with the
same fervor and devotion as if you both heard and saw
them, laying aside for the time all other engagements and
affairs. In short, beloved reader, I beseech you to accept
in good part, the pains I have here taken for the honor
and praise of our Lord Jesus, and for your spiritual profit,
as well as my own ; and endeavor, with all the alacrity,
devotion, and diligence you are master of to put it ID
practice.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTIR PA«.
I. The Angels intercede for Man's redemption . 11
II. The Life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and her
seven petitions to God. 17
HI. The Incarnation of Christ, and the angelical sal
utation of the Blessed Virgin . . . .22
IV. Our blessed Lady visits her cousin St. Elizabeth,
in whose house the Magnificat and Benedictut
were composed 30
V. St. Joseph thinks of dismissing the Blessed Vir
gin, and Goil suffers his beloved to be afflicted 35
VI. The Nativity of Jesus Christ 41
VII. The Circumcision of our Lord Jesus Christ . . 54
VIII. The Epiphany, or manifestation of our Lord Jesus 59
IX. The Blessed Virgin remains at the crib at Bethle
hem, till the full term of forty days is expired 69
X. The Purification of our blessed Lady, or Candle
mas-day . 71
XI. Christ's flight into Egypt 76
XII. Our Lord's return from Egypt . . . .89
XIII. Our Lord remains at Jerusalem . . . .95
XIV. Our Lord's life from his twelfth to his thirtieth
year 103
XV. The Baptism of our Lord Jesus Christ . . . 113
XVI. The fast and temptation of Christ ; his return to
his mother ; the four means to attain to a per
fect purity of heart : the great advantages of
prayer ; the resistance to be made to gluttony :
why, and for whom God works his miracles . 129
XVII. Christ opens the book in the synagogue . . 138
XVIII. He calls his disciples 141
XIX. The conversion of water into wine at the mar
riage-feast 143
XX. The sermon of our Lord on the mount, which he
begins by poverty 151
9
8 CONTENTS.
CHAPTKR. PAOB.
XXI. The servant of the centurion and the son of the
prince cured 155
XXII The paralytic brought in to our Lord by the house
top and cured ..... . 157
XXIII. Our Lord cures Simon's mother-in law . . . 159
XXIV. Our Lord sleeps in the boat 100
XXV. The widow's son raised by our Lord . . . 161
XXVI. Our Lord raises a girl from the dead, and cures
Martha ...'.... 161
XXVII. The conversion of Magdalen, and other things . 163
XXVIII. John sends his disciples to Jesus . . . .166
XXIX. The deuth of St. John the Baptist . . . .170
XXX. The conference our Lord had with the Samaritan
woman, as he sat, being faint arid wearied, by
the side of the well to rest himself . . . 175
XXXI. The disciples of our Lord pluck ears of cora and
eat them, through hunger, on the Sabbath . 178
XXXII. The Jews having driven our Lord Jesus out of the
city to the top of a steep mountain, endeavor to
throw him down thence 184
XXXIII- The man with a withered hand cured by our Lord
Jesus 184
XXXIV. The multiplication of the loaves, and how our
Lord provides for those who truly love him . 188
XXXV. Our Lord's flight when they would have mndehim
king ; and against worldly honors in general . 191
XXXVI. Our Lord prays on the mount ; and descending
walks on the waters ; some reflections on prayer 200
XXXVII. Christ relieves the daughter of the woman of
Canaan who was possessed with the devil ; our
guardian angels faithfully assist us . . 214
XXXVIII. The Pharisees and others scandalized at the
words of our Lord ...... 219
XXXIX. The reward promised by our Lord to those who for
sake all for him 220
XL. Our Lord Jesus asks his disciples what the Jews
say of him 323
XLI. The glorious transfiguration of our Lord Jesus on
Mount Tabor 224
XLII. Our Lord casts the buyers and sellers out of the
temple 227
XLIII. The sick man who was healed at the water in Jeru
salem, called Probatica Piscina .... 229
CONTENTS. 9
CHAPTBB. PAGB.
XLIV. Our Lord Jesus received by the two sisters, Mary
and Martha ; and of the two sorts of lives signi
fied thereby 233
XLV. Our Lord warns the Jews that the church shall de
volve on the Gentiles, in the parable of the hus
bandmen who killed the son of their Lord . 236
XLVI. The Jews seek to ensnare our Lord by his own
words 237
XL VII. The blind man restored to sight at Jericho!; etc. . 238
XL VIII. Our Lord goes into the house of Zacheus . . 241
XLIX. Christ gives sight to the man born blind . . 242
L. Our Lord retreats from the temple to hide himself,
when the Jews would have stoned him . . 245
LI. The Jews seek a second time to stone him . . 245
LII. The raising of Lazarus 249
LIII. Christ curses the fig-tree 252
LIV. The woman detected in adultery .... 253
LV. The conspiracy of the Jews against Christ, and his
flight into the city of Ephraim .... 254
LVI. Our Lord's return to Bethania, where Mary Mag
dalen anoints his feet 257
LVII. Our Lord Jesus comes to Jerusalem en Palm Sunday
riding on an ass 260
LVIII. What our Lord Jesus did from Palm Sunday to the
following Thursday 264
LIX. Our Lord's supper the night before his passion, and
circumstances relating to it . . . . 268
LX. The Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, and his prayer
in the garden 279
LXI. Our Lord Jesus betrayed by Judas .... 286
LXII. Our blessed Lord is carried before Pilate, scourged
at the pillar, and crowned with thorns . . 291
LXIII. Our Lord is condemned to suffer a cruel death on
the cross, and compelled to carry the same to
Mount Calvary 299
LXIV. Our Lord Jesus Christ is nailed to the cross . . 306
LXV. The words which our Lord spoke while hanging
upon the cross : he yields up his spirit . . 310
LXVI. The opening of our blessed Saviour's side with a
spear 313
LXVII. The descent of our Lord from the cross . . . 316
LXVIII. The embalming and burial of our Lord's body . 319
LXIX. Our blessed Lady's departure from the sepulchre,
and return to Mount Sion , 324
10 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAM.
LXX. A meditation on our blessed Lady's conversation
with her devout companions .... 837
LXXI. Our Lord Jesus descends into the Limbo of the
Fathers 330
LXXII. The glorious resurrection of our Lord Jesus, and his
appearance first to his mother .... 343
LXXIII. The coming of the three Marys to the sepulchre, etc 844
LXXIV. Our Lord's appearance to the holy women . . 845
LXXV. Our Lord's appearance to Joseph, to James the less,
and to Peter 340
LXXVI. Christ returns to the holy Fathers after his resur
rection 850
LXXVI1. Christ appears to the two disciples going to Emmaus 352
LXXVIIL Our Lord appears to the disciples who were shut up
on the day of the resurrection .... 354
LXXIX Our Lord appears to the disciples on the octave of
Easter, when St. Thomas was with them . . 356
LXXX. Our Lord appears to his disciples in Galilee . . 359
LXXXI. He appears to them again near the sea of Tiberias 360
LXXXII. Our Lord appears to more than five hundred dis
ciples together ; some remarks relating to his
apparitions in general 363
LXXXIII. The glorious ascension of our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ 365
LXXXTV. The coming of the Holy Ghost . . . .876
APPENDIX.
Rhythmical Prayer to the Sacred Members of Jesus hanging .
upon the Cross. By St. Bernard 370
THE
LIFE OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR
JESUS CHRIST.
1. ACHARIAH ASKS THB ANGEL FOR A SIGN OF WHAT HE HAS PROMISED.
In chapter I, THE ANGELS INTERCEDE FOR HAN'S REDEMPTION.
MANKIND having for the long and tedious
space of more than five thousand years
continued in a miserable state of exile, not one
of them being able to shake off the clog of orie-
12 THE LIFE OF OUR
inal guilt, and soar to his native country Heaven ;
the blessed choir of angelic spirits, (moved to
compassion, and concerned at the dreadful havoc
sin had made among them, as well as solicitous
to see the numbers of their own heavenly legions
again completed) as soon as the fulness of time
was come, resolved to renew the instances they
had often before made to the Almighty. For
this end, presenting themselves before the awful
throne of God, with redoubled earnestness and
devotion, they jointly prostrated themselves at
his feet, and made the following prayer: "All-
merciful Lord! Remember how you graciously
vouchsafed, from the inexhaustible fund of your
goodness, to create man out of nothing, and to raise
him above all the works of your sublunary cre
ation, by enriching him with the eminent gift of
a rational soul, capable of knowing you ; and this
on purpose that he might become a partaker of
our felicity, and repair the loss we sustained by
the fall of our reprobate brethren. Yet behold,
O gracious Sovereign, the whole species lies still
involved in such woful ruin, that out of so great
a number, not one has been able to escape and
arrive hither in the long space of many thousand
years. Our enemies thence gather new matter of
triumph : when instead of seeing the vacant
places of the fallen angels filled, they behold hell
continually crowded with innumerable victims :
to what end then are they created, 0 Lord ? Why
are the souls, that confess to you, delivered up a
prey to beasts f—Ps. Ixxiii. We are not ignor
ant that this severity perfectly agrees with your
divine justice ; yet be pleased, O Lord, to re
member, that the time foi showing your mercy is
come. If the first progenitors of the human race
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 13
did unhappily transgress your law, let your
mercy now repair the injury in their wretched
posterity. Be mindful that you created them to
your own likeness. Extend then in pity, O God,
your hand to them, and replenish them with your
bounty. To this end, ' our eyes fixed on you, as
the eyes of servants on the hands of their master sj
— Ps. cxxii. — till you deign to have compassion
on mankind, and save them by a plentiful re
demption."
The angel having concluded this address, Mercy
and Peace, supporting the petition in man's be
half, pathetically pleaded for his redemption with
the heavenly Father : while Justice and Truth
seemed to make a vigorous opposition against it :
whence (for contemplation sake) we may imagine a
kind of ineffable debate to arise between them, as
St. Bernard relates in a beautiful and ample man
ner. But in this I shall be as concise as the tenor
of our subject will permit. For though in this
treatise, I intend often to interweave his words with
my own, yet as our present purpose requires us to
avoid tedious prolixity, I shall differ partly in the
manner of applying them. To return then to our
subject. The sum of his discourse, in the place above
quoted, is as follows : Mercy, in the words of the
royal prophet says, " Will God reject man forever,
or hath the Lord forgotten to show mercy?"—
Ps. Ixxvi. Long and frequently importuned with
these, and such like solicitations, thus at length,
the Almighty may be supposed to have answered,
"Hold, Mercy, before I acquiesce to your petitions,
it becomes me as an equitable judge, to hear the al
legations which Justice and Truth have to offer
against them." Whereupon, the two divine attri
butes being ready to the summons, Mercy thus re-
14 THE LIFE OF OUR
sumes, "Mankind, 0 Lord, stand in need of thy
commiseration, for they are become wretched in-
deed, even extremely wretched ; and the time for
showing pity is more than come." Here Truth,
interrupting the plea of Mercy, begins, "It is meet,
O Lord, that you fulfil your divine word. Let
Adam die, and all his race with him, since all,
in him, impiously tasted the forbidden fruit."
:' Wherefore then, O Lord," replies Mercy, " where
fore do 1 subsist ? if you forbear forever to commis
erate, there is an end of me : this, your Truth must
acknowledge." "Yes," rejoins Truth, "but yet,
O Eternal Father, if prevaricating man can elude
your sentence, what becomes of me \ Can I, as you
have promised, persist to eternity?" Thus the di
vine pleaders continuing to support their suit
against each other, the Eternal Father, at length,
remits the cause to his Son. Before whom, Mercy
and Truth renewing their former pleas, Truth thus
added, "I confess, 0 Lord, that the zeal which
Mercy exerts in man's behalf is good, and worthy
all praise ; but does she therein act conformably to
justice, in persuading you rather to spare those pre
varicators than me her sister attribute?" "Ah, be
loved Truth," replies Mercy, "rather consider, that
your indignant rigor spares neither man nor me :
by refusing to commiserate him, you involve me in
his destruction, me, your sister Mercy." But
Truth, unsoothed by all that Mercy could offer,
still further urged : "You, O Lord, are here made a
party in this cause, and therefore, it highly behooves
you not to suffer the word of your Eternal Father
to be made void." After this manner persisted the
divine parties in opposing ench other, till at length,
all-uniting Peace with her heavenly voice interpos
ing, jthus addressed them : " Cease to dispute, ye
LOUD JESU8 VHRltiT. 15
heavenly offspring of God, contention ill suits
such kindred virtues." —Still the debate was im
portant, and the reasons on both sides so strong and
powerful, that no means appeared of reconciling
Mercy and Truth, in regard to mankind, till the di
vine and royal judge gave to Peace, who stood the
nearest *c lu«* awful throne, the following ineffable
decree to read: "Whereas, our Eternal Father's
divine offspring, Truth and Mercy, have laid before
us their opposite allegations concerning the salva
tion or perdition of our hapless creature, man :
the former alleging that, if the sentence of death
passed upon Adam should be reversed, Mercy her
self must be involved in the destruction of Adam.
Our divine wisdom suggests us a medium to pre
serve both inviolable and uninjured. Let Death then
be made a desirable good : that the apprehensions
of all may be removed and their ends obtained."
No sooner was the divine decree pronounced,
than all, applauding its wisdom, silently consented
that Adam should die, yet Death be a means of
saving mercy to him. But hence, a new difficulty
arose: "How, O unsearchable wisdom, how shall
Death become a desirable good to man, when the
bare sound of it is sufficient to convey horror to the
sense?" "Know," answers the heavenly mon
arch, "that though the death of the wicked be
superlatively wretched, that of the righteous is
inestimably precious, and the sure entrance to eter
nal life.
" Let one then be sought out, who, though not by
nature subject to death,* will voluntarily submit to
it, from a generous motive of disinterested charity.
Such a one, not liable to be detained in subjection
by Death, will force a passage through it, and lead
•Death entered b j cia.
16 THE LIFE OF OUR
captivity after him to a blessed state of freedom."
Here all acquiesce with pleasure to the divine pro
posal. u Yet where," sziy they, "shall we be able
to find such a one;" Submissively, however, obse-
quious.to the Eterual Word's decree, without waiting
a reply, and paying due adoration to the Almighty
Majesty, both depart in search of him : Truth re
solving to range the earth, and Mercy the wide do
minions of heaven, according to the words of the Pro
phet: Thy mercy, 0 Lord, is in heaven, and thy
truth even to the clouds." — Ps. xxxv., "it encom
passes the universe." Yet how vain, alas, their re
searches ! Truth travelling round the world, finds
no one free from guilt, not even the infant of a day
old. And Mercy in vain seeks, throughout heaven,
one who has charity equal to so great an undertaking.
Alas ! all mankind are but inferior servants, and
the best of them must, even when they act well, say
from St. Liike, chap, xvii., " that they are but un
profitable servants." As none, therefore, could be
found so abounding in charity, as to lay down their
life for such useless servants, it was to no purpose
for Mercy and Truth to seek any longer. Hence
returning to the Almighty's presence at the ap
pointed time, without the desired success, Peace,
with a benevolent countenance thus anticipates them:
" Ah ! heavenly sisters, know you not, or have you
forgotten, that there is not one on earth who does
good : No, not even one. Or who in heaven or on
earth but he, whose wisdom gave you the ineffable
advice you are endeavoring to follow, can assist you
to effect it?" On hearing this, the all- wise monarch
spoke. "It repents me that I made man : Yet, as
I have made him, it becomes the immensity of my
goodness to do satisfaction for him." Wherefore,
calling to him the angel Gabriel, "Go," says he,
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 17
"and tell the daughter of Sion: Behold your king
coines." — Thus i'ar from St. Bernard. Hence you
may see of how dangerous and fatal consequence ^in
has been and still is, and how great the difficulty of
applying the remedy to it. To this purpose, how
ever, the above mentioned attributes seem best to
accord and unite in the person of God the Son.
For on one side, the person of the Father, bearing
in appearance a terrible and powerful aspect, might
seemingly give cause of apprehension for Peace and
Mercy. On the other side, the person of the Holy
Ghost, all bountiful and gracious, might seemingly
give no less room for apprehension to Truth and
Justice. So that the person of the Son between
both, was wisely accepted as mediator in the im
portant work. This, however, must be understood,
not in a strict sense, but a mystical and borrowed
one. Thus, then, was at length fulfilled that proph
ecy of the Psalmist, "Mercy and Truth have met
together, Justice and Peace have kissed." — Ps.
Ixxxiv.
This may suffice for a pious meditation on what,
we may devoutly conceive, might probably pass in
heaven, relating to man's redemption.
CHAPTER H.
OF THE LIFE OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MART, AND HEB
SEVEN PETITIONS TO GOD.
r I "HE life of the Blessed Virgin, from whom the
J- Son of God took flesh, will afford our devotion
ample matter for meditation. You are then to know,
Christian reader, that at the third year of her age,
she was presented in the temple a sacrifice to Grod ;
jg THE LIFE OF OUR
and there remained to the age of fourteen. What
was her method of life in that holy sanctuary,
during that space of time, we may learn from the
Revelations, with which she favored a devout votary
of hers ; who, as it is believed, was the glorious St.
Elizabeth, whose solemn festival the church an
nually celebrates. Among the rest, the following
particulars are contained :
"When my parents," says our Blessed Lady,
"had consecrated me in the temple, immediately
on their departure I resolved in my own heart to
choose God for my father : and often and devoutly
considering what I might do to please God, and
render myself agreeable in his sight, that he might
vouchsafe to enrich me with his grace ; I began, by
taking care to be instructed in the divine laws. But
of all the divine laws which I observed in my heart,
these three were the first and chief : Thou shalt
love the Lord thy God, with all thy heart, with all
thy soul, with all thy spirit, with all thy strength :
Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself : Thou shalt
not hate thy enemy. These I kept in my mind ;
and immediately possessed all the virtues comprised
in them ; and thus will I have you to do. But the
soul can possess no virtue, that has not a cordial
love for God. For it is from this love that flows the
plenitude of all grace, without which no virtue can
enter into, or remain in the soul ; but drops away
like water, unless due hatred be conceived towards
its enemies, that is, vice and evil habits. Whoever,
therefore, is desirous of possessing the grace of God,
must dispose his heart to love and hatred. I would
have you, therefore, to follow my example, and
do as I did. I rose constantly at midnight, and be
fore the holy altar of the temple, with all the desire,
will, and affection I was capable of, I implored
LORD JESUS CH1UST. 19
the grace of the Almighty God, to observe these
three great commandments chiefly, and every other
precept of his law. And thus, before tLe sacred
altar, 1 made the following seven petitions:
"I requested then : First— His grace, to lulh'l the
precept of charity, that is to love him with all my
heart, etc.
"Secondly — The grace necessary to love my
neighbor according to his will and pleasure, and
to delight in all things that please him.
" Thirdly — His assistance to hate andshun every
thing displeasing to him.
"Fourthly — Humility, patience, benignity, and
meekness, and every virtue that could render me
agreeable in his sight.
"Fifthly — That he would make known to me
the time in which that ever-blessed virgin should
be born, who was to bring forth the Son of God ;
and that he would preserve my sight, that I might
behold her ; my tongue that I might praise her : my
hands that I might minister to her : my feet that I
might move in her service : and my knees that I
might adore the Son of God in her womb.
" SixtJily — I implored his grace, to obey the pre
cepts and direction of the priests of the temple.
"And, Seventhly — That he would vouchsafe
to preserve the temple and people in his holy
service."
The servant of Christ, when she heard this, said :
" 0 most amiable lady, were not you full of grace
and every virtue ?" "Yes," answered the Blessed
Virgin : " "Y et know for certain, that I thought my
self as void of merit, as full of guilt, and as un<
worthy God's favor as you. For which reason,
I continued thus praying for grace and virtue. But
although you may imagine me to have possessed nil
20 THE LIV'K OF OUR
the grace I was endowed with, with little ui no p^ins,
yet, be assured, that I received no one grace, <>jft
or virtue from Heaven, without immense labor, in
cessant prayer, fervent desires, profound devotion,
many tears, and much affliction : Ever saying and
thinking, to the best of my knowledge and power,
what was most agreeable to him. Xor did I receive
any blessings from Heaven, without all this, except
the sanctifying grace, by which I was made holy in
the womb of my mother. Know also," adds she,
" that no grace descends into the soul, but by means
of prayer and mortification." However, when once
we pay to God all the little services in our power,
though they are but few, they are of such efficacy
as to attract the Almighty himself into the soul,
and with him some of his choicest gifts. Insomuch,
that the soul seems in a sublime measure to be car
ried out of itself, and forgets ever having done, or
even said anything pleasing to Heaven, becoming
more unworthy and contemptible in its own esteem
than ever. Thus much may we gather from the
above-mentioned Revelations.
St. Jerome, however, in the account he gives of her
life, adds : "That it was the constant method of the
Blessed Virgin to continue fixed in prayer, from the
morning to the third hour. From the third hour to
the ninth she employed herself in manual exercises.
At the ninth she again returned to prayer, nor suf
fered anything to interrupt her devotions till called
upon by the angel who attended her, to receive her
usual necessary refection : And even then, from his
celestial converse, she improved in the love and
service of her beloved master. She was ever found
the first at the sacred vigils and watches of the tem
ple, the most versed in the knowledge of the divine
laws, the most profoundly practised in true hu-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 21
niilily, the most ready and harmonious in the Royal
Psalmist's divine canticles, the most illustrious in
charity, the most innocently pure, and the most
perfect in every virtue. She was immovably con
stant in goodness, yet was never seen or heard to be
morose or peevish at the failings of her companions
who were less perfect. Her every word had it in such
a singular pleaitu.de of grace, that something divine
appeared in all she said. She diligently persevered
in prayer, and the study of God's laws: and ever
watched over the conduct of her companions, that
none of them might exceed in speech, or break out
into inordinate mirth, or disgust each other by pride
or offensive behavior. She was ever intent on
praising God : and lest the greetings, which neigh
borly charity obliged her to use towards those of
her own station, should in the least diminish the
praise due to God, her perpetual form of salutation
was 'Thanks be to God.' Hence the laudable cus
tom of holy men in saluting each other, to say Thanks
be to God. The food administered to her by the
hands of the angel served her for her own support :
and she bestowed on the poor the portions allotted
to her by the priests of the temple. The angel was
seen daily conversing with her, and obeying her,
as if she was his beloved sister or mother." Thus
far St. Jerome.
In the fourteenth year of her age the Blessed Vir
gin was espoused to St. Joseph, by divine appoint
ment revealed to her parents, and then she returned
to Nazareth ; concerning which, you may see the
particular circumstances in the legend of her birth.
Such are the subjects proper to meditate on, which
happened before the Incarnation. Consider them
well, and take pleasure in the contemplation of
them, committing them to your memory with the
22 2 HE LlVti OF OUR
utmost affection, and practice them with all dill
gence, as matters of the sublimest devotion. But
let us now proceed to the Incarnation.
THE ARCHANGEL GABRIEL APPEARS TO THE BLESSED VIRGIN MART.
In chapter III, THE INCARNATION OF CHRIST. AND THE ANGELICAL
SALUTATION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN.
WHEN the fulness of time was come, and the
most blessed Trinity had deliberated on the
means of providing for the redemption of mankind,
by the incarnation of the "WORD ; Christ resolved
to take flesh of the Blessed Virgin, through his im
mense charity with which he loved mankind. Hia
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 23
mercy moving him, and paying a particular regard
to the instances of the celestial spirits ; when the
Blessed Virgin was returned to Nazareth, Almighty
God called to him the angel Gabriel, and said to him :
"Go to our best beloved daughter, espoused to
Joseph, the dearest to us of all our creatures, and
tell her that my son delights in her form, and hath
chosen her for his mother. Request her to receive
him joyfully : for I have decreed to save mankind
by her means, and to blot out of my memory the
injury they have done me."
And here, gentle reader, let me once more repeat
my former advice : Be mindful and take such notice
of what you read, as to render yourself, as it were,
present to every passage herein related. But, par
ticularly in this place, fix God before your imagina
tion, in the best manner a corporeal being is capable
of conceiving an idea of his incorporeal substance.
Conceive him, that is, as a mighty sovereign, seated
on his awful throne, the paternal and benign affa
bility of whose majestic countenance spoke in him
a disposition towards reconciliation, or rather re
conciliation itself : Imagine him, I say, thus dis
posed to utter the above-mentioned words, while
Gabriel, with serene and cheerful aspect, pros
trate on his knees, in a devout and reverent
posture, listens attentively to the divine embassy.
That received, away the angelic messenger hastens
from the celestial regions, and in the borrowed dress
of human likeness, quick as thought, presents him
self before the holy Virgin Mary, in the inmost re
cess of her little habitation. Yet not so expeditious
was his flight, but that the blessed Trinity, antici
pating their ambassador, were in the happy mansion
before him.
For this you must take along with you, that
24 4££ A/W* Of
though the person of the Son alone was made man,
yet the whole sacred Trinity was concerned in his
incarnation. The Father and the Holy Ghost co
operating alike in this august and unutterable mys
tery. Here then, be specially attentive, and as if pres
ent to everything that is said and done, endeavor to
comprehend every circumstance that passes. — Oh,
what scope may not this subject afford your medita
tion. What reflections may you not gather from
that little mansion, where such personages are assem
bled, and such ineffable mysteries wrought by them.
For though the sacred Trinity be undoubtedly al
ways everywhere present, yet, in this place, at this
juncture, it was present in a more singular and in
effable manner than usual, on account of the super
natural and unspeakable work then and there
effected.
The angel Gabriel then arrived at the holy man
sion, and entering to the Blessed Virgin, thus the
faithful proxy began his message: "Hail, full of
grace ! the Lord is with thee : Blessed art thou
among women." To which, not a little disturbed,
she made no answer. Her disturbance, however,
proceeded not from any guilty disorder within her ;
neither could it be occasioned by the angelical vision,
such kind of visits being, from their frequency, be
come familiar to her. But, to speak in the words of
the Evangelist, "She was disturbed at the angel's
speech." That is, perplexed in thought at the
novelty of this salutation, so unlike his usual man
ner of greeting her. Nor could the humble Virgin
be other than disturbed at the triple commendation
included in his angelical salutation. To hear her
self commended, for that she was full of grace, that
the Lord was with her, that herself was blessed
above the rest of her sex, was more than one so rich
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 25
in humility could hear without a blush of concern.
Her discomposure then was wholly the effect of a
virtuous and becoming bashfulness ; accompanied
with a fear of too easily giving in to the belief of
what she heard. Not that she in the least mis
trusted the angel's veracity ; but, because it is ever
the faculty of the truly humble to tend to perfection,
by examining into and magnify ing their defects, while
they either remain wholly insensible of any merit in
themselves, or see it through the lessening end of the
perspective. Thus, as becomes a prudent, fearful,
and modest Virgin, our blessed lady remained si
lent, returning no answer to the angelical salutation,
as if not knowing what to reply. Learn from her
•example the study and practice of silence : a virtue
of the greatest utility to such as are endowed with it.
The vice contrary to which is so odious in all, but
especially in women, and more in young ones and
virgins, that this sacred pattern of modesty could
not prevail on herself to make any answer, till she
had heard the angel twice utter his mysterious mes
sage ; nor even then could she have resolved to break
through her wonted silence, but that the sacred mes
senger, apprized of the cause of her despondency,
encouraged her in the following words : " Fear not,
Mary, nor be concerned at the encomiums I render
you. Why should your modesty blush to receive
the praises justly due to you ? You are not only
full of grace yourself, but even born to be the means
of restoring all mankind to the grace of God, which
they had lost. For behold, you shall conceive, and
bring forth the Son of the Most High, who has
chosen you to be an instrument of the salvation,
destined to all who put their trust in him." This
said, the Blessed Virgin, waving the subject of her
praises, was solicitous to know the manner in which
26 THE LIFE OF OUR
this all could be done : which she could not but be
anxious about, on account of her virginity, which
she was resolved never to part with. Wherefore,
she requested the angel to acquaint her with the
manner of the conception, in the following words :
" How shall this be effected upon me who have dedi
cated myself to God by a vow of perpetual virgin
ity ?" "It will be brought about," replied the angel,
" by the singular and ineffable operation of the Holy
Ghost, by whose power you will be replenished, and
conceive without prejudice to your virginity : and,
therefore, will your Son be called the Son of God.
For nothing is to him impossible. In proof of which,
know that by the same power of God, your kins
woman Elizabeth, though old and barren, is now six
months gone in her pregnancy of a male child."
Here imagine yourself in the divine presence, and
contemplate how the blessed Trinity, graciously
waiting the answer and consent of their beloved
daughter, was delighted to behold her graceful de
cency of behavior, and the modesty of her expres
sions. With what wisdom and attention does the
angel employ his heavenly eloquence to persuade
her, and with what sweetness, reverence, and affa
bility he bends before her as his awful mistress,
faithfully executing his embassy, and attentively
observing her words, that he may reply to them in a
manner becoming her dignity, his office, and the will
of the Almighty. And finally, with what a becom
ing deportment, mixed with graceful bashfulness of
countenance, she receives the sudden and surprising
message, without being elated by it. She attributes
wholly to the divine grace the wonderful encomiums
bestowed on her, though such as were never given to
any other mortal.
Consider attentively this, and learn from so great
LO..U JLZ.-UX CUU1ST. 21
ft paiiern, to behave with modesty and humility :
without which, purity itself is of little signification.
But to return to our subject.
The Blessed Virgin, after hearing the foremen-
tioned words of the angel, with a prudence equal to
the rest of her conduct, gave her consent : and, as
her revelations declare, kneeling with her hands
joined in a devout posture, said : " Behold the hand
maid of the Lord : Be it be done to me according to
thy word." At the same instant the Son of God
passed entire into the Virgin's womb, took flesh of
her, and still remained entire in the essence of his
Father. However, you may for piety' s sake imagine,
that the Son of God, undertaking this laborious em
bassy of obedience, reclined and recommended him
self to the Father, and that in the same instant his
soul was created and infused into the womb of his
Mother : so that, though he afterwards grew in the
womb, as naturally as other children are wont to do,
yet he received not like them any increase of facul
ties in his soul, or diversity in limbs ; being then as
perfect God and perfect man, and equally wise and
powerful as he is now. But to return to the angel.
Gabriel, to accompany the Blessed Virgin in her
devotion, kneeled for awhile, and then rising, pro
foundly bent himself to her in a respectful manner
to take his leave, after which he vanished immedi
ately. The Blessed Virgin now alone all in raptures,
and more than usually inflamed with the love of
God, began to be sensible of her pregnancy. Where
fore, throwing herself again upon her knees, she re
turned God thanks for so great a favor, and with
most humble and fervent supplication, besought him
to vouchsafe her the instructions necessary to render
her capable of acting her part towards her son, free
from any defect; or imperfection.
28 THE LIFE OF OUR
Meditate then on the greatness of this day's solem
nity. Let your heart rejoice, and the day be crowned
with holy mirth : a day hitherto unheard of since
the beginning of time. A day devoted to the honor
of God the Father who celebrates the nuptials of his
Son, espoused to human nature, which he has in
separably united to himself. A day sacred to the
wedding of the Divine Son, and to his entrance into
the virginal womb, through which he has to pass into
the world. A day solemn to the Holy Ghost, by
whose singular and wonderful co-operation the work
of the Incarnation was effected : and whose extra
ordinary benignity this day began to show itself to
mankind. A day of glory to our blessed Lady, who
on the same was acknowledged and assumed by the
Father for a Daughter — by the Son for a Mother —
bjr the Holy Ghost for a Spouse. A day of rejoic
ing to the whole heavenly choir, on account of the
work of their reparation commencing from it ; but
more especially to mankind, on account of their sal
vation, redemption, and reconciliation ; for on this
day properly was the whole human nature exalted
and deified.
On this day the Son submitted to the new com
mand of his Father in the work of our salvation.
On this day, coming forth from the highest heaven,
he exalted Wee a giant to run Tiis race, and entered
into the virginal garden of his mother's womb.
On this day he was made one of us, and becoming
our brother, began to sojourn among us. On this
day the true light descended from heaven to expel
away our darkness, and disperse the clouds of our
ignorance. On this day the bread of life, which
enlivens the world, was truly perfected in the sacred
tabernacle of the virginal womb, and the word was
made flesh to dwell amongst us. Lastly, on this day
LORD JESUS UURIST. 29
the long continued cries of the holy patriarchs and
prophets were heard, and their fervent desires fully
accomplished. They cried aloud, with an inexpres
sible earnestness, saying: Send forth, 0 Lord, tltz
Lamb, the ruler of the earth. — Isa. xvi. Drop de:o
ye heavens from above, and let the clouds rain the
just. — Chap. xlv. Would, 0 God, thou wouldst
burst the heavens asunder and descend. — Chap,
xliv. Lord, incline thy heavens and descend. —
Ps. cxliii. SJiow us thy fare and we shall he
saved. — Ibid. Ixxix. These, with infinite others of
like nature, to be seen in Holy Writ, were their re
peated instances for the approach of the solemn day,
which they so ardently expected. This day gave
the first beginning to every joyful solemnity, and is
the only true source of all our real happiness. For
though hitherto Almighty God has been justly in
censed against mankind, for the transgression of
their first progenitors, yet from this time his anger
against them shall cease at the sight of his only Son
made man for their redemption. Hence is this day
so justly styled "the fulness of time;" that is, a
time of grace and redemption to man. And hence
also may we deem the wonderful greatness of this
most solemn and ineffable mystery, where all is
profitable and sweet, all is gay and decent, all is
pleasing and desirable ; in a word, where all is so
sublimely sacred, that it requires our inmost devo
tion to treat of it, our purest transports to solemnize
it, and our profoundest veneration to adore it. Let
such then be the heads of your meditation — make
them the scope of all your pleasure — and, choose them
for your frequent and favorite amusement. For
who knows but the Lord may recompense your
pious practice with more ample scenes of heavenly
knowledge 2
30
THE LIFE OF OUR
ST. ELIZABETH RECEIVES THE VISIT OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MART.
CHAPTER IV.
OUR BLESSED LADY VISITS HER COUSIN ST. ELIZABETH,
IN WHOSE HOUSE THE MAGNIFICAT AND BENEDIC-
TUS ARE COMPOSED.
OUR Blessed Lady, having conceived by the Holy
Ghost, and the incarnation of the Son of God
being fully accomplished in her sacred womb, recall
ing to mind what the angel had told her, concerning
her cousin Elizabeth, she resolved to visit her ; and
this, not merely to congratulate her on her happy
pregnancy, but rather to assist her at her approach-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 31
ing delivery. Wherefore, in company with her be
loved spouse St. Joseph, she immediately set out on
her journey, from the little city of Nazareth, towards
the house of St. Elizabeth, which was near Jeru
salem, and about seventy miles distant from Nazar
eth. Neither the length of the journey, nor the
labors of the way, could deter her from her pious
resolution ; but without delay she went on with all
speed, that she might not appear long abroad. Nor
was she like other women in her condition, in the
least burdened by the divine infant she bore in her
womb. And now by the way accompany in mind
this blessed couple. The ever-glorious Virgin, queen
of heaven and earth, with her beloved spouse, pro
ceeds on her journey ; not on a pampered horse, or
gilded car, not escorted by a military band of armed
soldiers, not triumphant amidst a pompous crowd of
nobles, not surrounded with aglittering tribe of courtly
damsels. Poverty, humility, modesty, with every
graceful virtue, were all their train. The Lord of
Hosts, indeed, was her inseparable companion, at
tended by his glorious court, far outshining all the
splendor of the vain and pompous sons of earth.
Come at length to her journey's end, she entered
the house of Zachary, and finding there her cousin
Elizabeth, saluted her, saying : Hail, my dear cousin
Elizabeth. Elizabeth vehemently animated by the
Holy Ghost, with transports of joy, immediately
arose, and tenderly embracing her, cried aloud :
Blessed art thou amongst icomen, and blessed is
the fruit of tliy womb. And whence is this to me,
that the mother of my Lord should come to visit me f
— Luke \. The words of the salutation were no
sooner graciously uttered by our blessed Lady, than
they pierced even to the bowels of St. Elizabeth, in
flaming both mother and son with the divine Spirit
82 TUE LIFE OF OUR
Nor was the mother inflamed before her son, but he
being first replenished himself, replenished also his
parent; not operating anything new within her,
bat rather meriting that something divine should
be wrought within her soul, by the operation of the
Holy Ghost : Insomuch, that the grace of the Holy
Paraclete was more abundantly diffused in him,
and he first was sensible of its blessed effects. Thus,
as she outwardly perceived the presence of the
holy Virgin, he inwardly was affected by the ap
proach of his Lord. Wherefore, he exulted for
joy, and she prophesied. Consider hence of how
great force and efficacy must the words of the
Blessed Virgin be, that the Holy Ghost should
deign to communicate himself at the bare utterance
of them. For herself was so copiously filled with
him, that the same divine spirit in and through her
replenished others. The Virgin Mary, after hear
ing the salutation of Elizabeth, replied thus to her:
4 "My soul doth magnify our Lord, and my spirit
hath rejoiced in God my Saviour," with the rest of
that divine canticle. Having ended, they both sat
down ; when a holy contention arose between them,
not occasioned by ceremonious insincerity, but from
an inborn humiliry. The sacred Virgin, greatest in
that virtue, as well as in dignity, would have seated
herself below Elizabeth, at her feet ; and Elizabeth,
conscious of the majesty of her guest, would have
placed herself beneath hers. Bnt at length both
modestly yielding to each other, they seated them-
selves together, side by side. The pious dehnte was
succeeded by equally pious greetings, and mutual
interrogations concerning the mystery of each
other's conception, which they mutually revealed,
giving the glory of it to God. and crowning the day
with divine praises and thanksgiving for the sover-
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
33
eign and ineffable blessings received. Our Blessed
Lady continued with Elizabeth the space of three
months, helping and assisting her as far as she was
able, with all devotion, humility, and veneration,
seeming to forget the greatness of her own dignity,
and that she was the chosen mother of God, and
the sovereign queen of the world. Oh, what a
heavenly house ; what blessed chambers ! What
an immaculate bed was that, which contained such
sacred parents, pregnant with such celestial infants ;
Mary and Elizabeth, Jesus and John, guarded and
attended by those truly great and venerable men,
Joseph and Zachary.
HIS FATHEB WHITES THE NAME "JOHN" ON THE TABLETS.
When Elizabeth's time was expired, she was hap
pily delivered of a son, whom our Blessed Lady
received in her arms, and carefully swathed ; per-
8-i , -* THE LIFE OF OUR
forming with virginal tenderness, the necessary
little offices suitable to the occasion. The infant,
as if acquaintd with the majesty of his sacred nurse,
fixed his eyes steadfastly on her, so taken with her
beauty, that when she delivered him again to his
mother, he still looked towards her as if he could
take delight in her alone ; while she, on the other
side, continued graciously playing with him, em
bracing him, and cherishing him with her heavenly
lips. What excess of honor was this for St. John !
What pure mortal, besides himself, was ever blessed
with such a nurse ! Yet this is not the only great
privilege he enjoyed. Many others might be named,
were they not foreign to our present purpose.
On the eighth day the child was circumcised and
called John. Then was the mouth of Zachary
opened, and he prophecied, saying, " Blessed is the
Lord God of Israel, etc." Thus were the Magnificat
and Benedictus, those two sublimely beautiful can
ticles, composed in this house. In the mean time,
while the latter was singing, our blessed Lady,
virgin-like, to avoid being gazed on by the men who
were present, on account of the ceremony, kept re
tired in a secret part of the chamber, where unseen she
could hear what passed, and there devoutly listened
to the prophesies uttered concerning her divine son :
carefully and wisely depositing the whole in her
heart. At length, taking leave of Elizabeth and
Zachary, and giving her blessing to John, she re
turns to her humble habitation at Nazareth. Here
again, devout reader, contemplate her poverty in
another shape. She returns home : But to what a
home I To a home unprovided with meat or drink :
to a home destitute of every necessary of life. But
this would be a trifling circumstance, had she either
estate or money, or other means to procure her a
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
35
cheerful residence there. But, alas ! that she is a
stranger to. She has remained now three months
with her relations, probably in no mean circum
stances : and yet now, not with regret, but cheerfully
of her own accord, she descends to her former state
of poverty, and to gain a narrow subsistence with
her own hands. Oh ! Christian Soul, compassionate
t'he Blessed Virgin in such great distress ; and
learn from so great an example, the poverty of spirit
you ought to have.
VIEW OP THE PRESENT CONDITION OF NAZARETH.
CHAPTER V.
ST. JOSEPH THINKS OF DISMISSING THE BLESSED
VIRGIN ; AND GOD SUFFERS HIS BELOVED TO BE
AFFLICTED.
WHEN our Blessed Lady and her spouse had
been some time at home, and Jesus had vis
ibly grown in his mother's womb, St. Joseph could
' 36 THE LIFE OF OUR
not but perceive the pregnancy of this heavenly
parent ; which, with the consciousness of his own
purity, stung his soul to the quick with immoderate
grief.
If it should seem strange to you that Christ would
have his mother espoused, notwithstanding she was
to remain always a virgin ; there are three very nat
ural reasons to be assigned. First, that her preg
nancy might not subject her to infamy. Secondly,
that the care and company of a man might guard
her from insults. Thirdly, that the veil of mar
riage might elude the devil's enquiry into the mys
tery of the incarnation,
Joseph frequently observed his spouse, but never
without grief and confusion ; nor could he help
manifesting his concern in the disturbance of his
countenance ; often turning his eyes from her as
from a criminal, whom he suspected of adultery.
Hence, learn how God permits those whom he loves
to be afflicted in this life, and how he prepares them
for the crown of glory, by means of temptation.
However, amidst his concern he did not lose sight
of moderation, but was contriving how to dismiss
her privately, without hurt to her person or reputa
tion. Here it maybe truly said, that his praise is
in the gospel : it is there said, that "he was a just
man:" and great indeed does his virtue appear on
this occasion. For though commonly speaking, the
greatest provocation a man has to shame, grief and
excess of madness, is the infidelity of his wife ;
yet he knew so well how to moderate his passion
by virtue, that he would not so much as accuse a wife
whom he thought guilty ; but chose patiently to
stifle the injury, and rather to conquer by goodness,
than overcome by revenge : and, being too just not
to desire to separate from a criminal, he was like;
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 37
wise too merciful not to spare the reputation of one,
who was to be pitied, if frail.
Nor was our Blessed Lady without her share of
tribulation ; she could not but observe his disturb
ance ; and could not but be disturbed with it herself.
Nevertheless, she humbly kept peace, and concealed
the gift of God, rather choosing to be reputed a
sinner, than to reveal the divine secret, and say that
of herself which might be discredited as an empty
boast, contrived to palliate a real offence. All her
recourse was to God, beseeching him to apply his
healing balm of comfort to the troubled souls of
herself and spouse. Hence gather what inexpress
ible grief and anxiety these two blessed personages
were in ! But the same Lord who wisely permitted
them to be tried, mercifully relieved them both in
time of need, sending an angel to Joseph in a dream,
to inform him that his spouse had conceived by virtue
of the Holy Ghost, and that he should lay aside all
thoughts of leaving her ; an,d ordering him to dis
trust her no more, but to remain with her in all love,
peace, and alacrity. Thus their disquiet ceasing,
a sovereign consolation took place in their breasts.
And the same would happen to us, if we knew how
to arm ourselves with patience in the day of trial •
For it is a never-failing effect of the divine bounty to
calm the breasts of such as behave with courage in
the tempest of affliction. Nor ought we in the least
to doubt it ; for he is too tender of his elect to suffer
them to undergo the least tribulation that does not
tend to their advantage.
St. Joseph after this enquired modestly into the
particulars of this miraculous conception, which the
humble Virgin faithfully related to him : and he
remained thenceforward with his blessed spouse
with the utmost joy and content. Thus both jointly
88 THE LIFE OF OUR
rejoiced in their common poverty ; he taking tho
tenderest cai e of her, and cherishing her with chaste
affection ; and she honoring him with modest con
fidence and spotless love.
In tho meantime, Jesus remained enclosed in his
mother's womb, like other children, during the
space of nine months, patiently and benignly wait
ing the due time. Reflect then, and compassionate
him who, for your sake, reduced himself to such an
abject state of humiliation. How carefully then
ought we to study to secure to ourselves the posses
sion of this amiable virtue, and how little does it
become us to follow our ambition, and to swell with
the vain desire of reputation and fame, when the
Lord of Majesty condescended to stoop to so humble
a state ! Can we ever make a sufficient acknowledg
ment to him for this second proof he gives us, in
this tedious imprisonment, of the excess of his love
for us ; at least, let us make him a cordial acknowledg
ment of it, and with the utmost fervor of our hearts,
return him thanks for having chosen us from among
the rest of Christians, to make him the slender re
tribution of retreating from the vanities of the
world, to attend to his service.
It is true, we owe it wholly to the gift of his
divine grace, not to any merit of ours ; and yet he
is pleased to look upon it as highly acceptable and
grateful. N"Or ought a Christian's retreat to be
deemed a punishment, but a safeguard. For being
safely placed within our pious retirement, the im-
poisoned darts or tempestuous waves of this profli
gate world, in vain attempt to reach us, unless we
rashly expose ourselvps to them. Let us then, with
all our power, and with the greatest purity of heart,
endeavor to enjoy the blessing, by looking up our
thoughts, and abstracting our minds from all that
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 39
is tran&itOiy. For it will little avail for the body
to be separated from worldly commerce, if the mind
or heart remain attached to it.
Learn likewise to compassionate our Lord Jesus
for this, that from the moment of his conception to,
that of his death, his sufferings were continual, as
he knew that his divine Father, whom he infinitely
loved, was, and would be dishonored, and the
meanest of his creatures preferred to him ; and inas
much as he saw those unhappy souls, who were
created to his own likeness, and whom he compas
sionately loved, miserably and almost universally
plunge themselves into their own damnation. And
his affliction and torture were so much greater than
his bodily sufferings, as they were the cause of them.
For the latter he submitted to, purely to remove the
former. What plentiful and rich provisions of
spiritual food are here laid before you for contem
plation ! Taste them then, and, if you wish to relish
perfectly their sweetness, partake of them with
frequency, diligence, and devotion.
TELE LIFE O^ OUR
v-
4
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 41
In chapter VI, OF THE NATIVITY OF JESUS CHEIST.
THE term then of nine months, from the time of
the conception of our blessed Redeemer, being
nearly expired, an edict was published by the Em
peror, Augustus Caesar, throughout all his domin
ions, whereby he ordered all his subjects to repair
to the respective places of their birth, there to have
their names enrolled. In conformity to which,
Joseph, being a native of Bethlehem, prepared to
go thither : and perceiving that the time drew near
for his beloved spouse to bring forth her divine Son,
he resolved upon taking her along with him. Here
a second time our blessed Lady undertakes a fatigu
ing journey ; the city of Bethlehem being but five
or six miles from Jerusalem, and nearly seventy
from Nazareth. All they took with them was an
ox and an ass, with which they travelled on in the
lowly appearance of such as deal in animals of that
kind. At length arrived at the city of Bethlehem,
they found there so great a multitude of people,
who had resorted thither from all parts, on the same
occasion, that, by reason of their extreme poverty
and distress, they could find no room in the inn.
Here let tenderness excite you to compassion to
wards the august personage of this young and deli
cate Virgin. Consider her at the age of fifteen,
wearied with the labors of a tedious journey, con
fused, terrified and abashed^ amidst a crowded popu-
42 THE LIFE OF OUR
lace : she seeks, to no purpose, a place of rest ; and
being everywhere refused admittance for herself
and spouse, is at last reduced to seek for a shelter in
a homely shed, the usual refuge of persons sur
prised by sudden storms of rain. In this place, we
may suppose St. Joseph, who was by profession a
carpenter, might probably have made a land of par
tition, or small enclosure for themselves, in which
he fixed a rack and manger for the convenience of
their beasts. And now let me earnestly entreat you
to be sedulously attentive to everything that passes,
concerning this subject, chiefly because what I am
now going to relate, I had from a devout and holy
man of undoubted credit, to whom I believe it was
revealed by the Blessed Virgin herself.
The expected hour of the birth of the Son of God
being come, on Sunday, towards midnight, the holy
Virgin, rising from her seat, went and decently
rested herself against a pillar she found there :
Joseph in the mean time, sat pensive and sorrowful ;
perhaps, because he could not prepare the necessary
accommodation for her. But at length, he arose
too, and taking what hay he could find in the
manger, he diligently spread it at our Lady's feet,
and then modestly retired to another part. Then the
eternal Son of God, coming forth from his mother's
womb, was, without pain to her, transferred in an
instant from thence to the humble bed of hay, that
was prepared for him at her feet. His holy Mother,
hastily stooping down, took him up in her arms, and
tenderly embracing Lim, laid him in her lap ; then
through instinct of the Holy Ghost, she began to
wash and bathe him with her sacred milk, with
which she was most amply supplied from heaven :
this done, she took the veil off her head, and wrap,
ping him in it, carefully reposed him in the manger.
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 43
Here the ox and the ass, kneeling down, and laying
their heads over the manger, gently breathed upon
him, as if endowed with reason. They were sensi
ble, that through the inclemency of the season, and
his poor attire, the blessed infant stood in need of
their assistance to warm and cherish him. Then
the holy Virgin throwing herself on her knees,
adored him, and rendering thanks to God, said :
" My Lord and heavenly Father, I return thee most
grateful thanks, that thou vouchsafest of thy
bounty to give me thy only Son ; and I praise and
worship thee, O eternal God, together with thee, O
Son of the living God, and mine."
Joseph likewise paid him adoration at the same
time ; after whi»!i he stripped the ass of his saddle,
and separating the pillion from it, he placed it near
the manger for the Blessed Virgin to sit on : but she
seating herself with her face towards the crib, made
use of that homely cushion only to lean on. In
this posture, the Queen of Heaven remained some
time immovable, keeping her eyes and affections
steadily fixed on her beloved Son. Thus far from
the above-mentioned revelations.
After our blessed Lady had revealed this to her
devout votary, she disappeared, and there remained
with him an angel of God, who spoke many great
things to her sacred praise : and the same were
again related to me, which I am neither capable of
repeating nor retaining.
You have here, Christian reader, been present at
the sacred birth of the Son of God, and beheld the
happy delivery of the Queen of Heaven, and may
have discovered in both these mysteries, the true
practice of strict poverty, in the extreme penury
and want of many things necessary. This most
sublime vir-tae the Lord of heaven and earth first
$4 THE LIFti OF
brought to its true lustre. This is that evangelical
pearl, to obtain which, we must spare no cost, but
must purchase it at the expense of all we have.
This is the first and sure foundation necessary to
support the whole spiritual fabric. For the soul be
ing here clogged with the weight of temporal goods,
is thereby rendered incapable of raising itself on
high, and freely ascending to God. In relation to
this St. Francis thus says: "You are to know,
brethren, that poverty is the spiritual way that leads
to salvation, as it were, the nutrimental sap of hu
mility, and the source of all perfection : the fruit
of which is concealed from and unknown to many.
" It ought then to be a subject of confusion to us,
that we endeavor not with all our strength to em
brace it, but on the contrary, load ourselves with
the care of many superfluous and unnecessary
things," when the Lord of heaven, and the Blessed
Virgin his Mother, were with the greatest perfection
most strict observers of it. St. Bernard also says,
" The practice of this virtue is a jewel, which the
facility of obtaining has rendered of little value in
the esteem of mankind. The Son of God being de
sirous of this virtue, descended from heaven among
us, that he might become capable of practising it
himself, and of rendering it dear to us by the es
teem he set upon it. Embellish thy heart then as a
worthy sanctuary for thy heavenly spouse, with
the virtues of a profound humility and a strict pov
erty. These are the swaddling clothes he takes
the greatest delight in, and these he prefers, as the
Blessed Virgin testifies, to the mantles of the rich
est brocades. Adorn thy soul with them, O Chris
tian reader ! and make a sacrifice to God of the
vanity of pompous attire, better suiting the pride
ef heathens, than the humble profession of Chris-
LORD JESUS CHRIST, 45
tians." And again in his sermon on the nativity,
he says: "Almighty God at length comforts his
people. Would you know who are his people?
Hear then the man according to God's own heart :
To thy care, says he, the poor is committed.— Ps. ix.
And as Christ adds in the gospel, Woe unto you
that are rich; for you have received here your con
solation.— Luke ii. And how indeed can they ex-
pect from him any comfort, who have placed their
comfort elsewhere? the tender infancy of Jesus
Christ is no comfort to the loquacious and evil pro
moters of idle discourse ; his tears convey no com
fortable harmony to those who are inclined to inor
dinate laughter and trivial mirth. They whose
glory it is to shine in gay apparel, receive no comfort
from the poverty and meanness of his attire, nor do
his humble stall, and homely manger, contribute
the least consolation to those, whose ambition is to
fill the first seats, and hold the chief dignities in
church or state." The joyful tidings of the eternal
light, 'springing forth, was first carried to the poor
shepherds, who were carefully watching their flocks,
and it was said, "That unto them a Saviour was
born ; that is, unto the poor, the industrious and
the laboring ; not unto you, 0 rich, who lulled with
ease, and swelled with power and plenty, have here
your fill of consolation." Thus far St. Bernard.
In this same nativity of the Son of God. we may
likewise contemplate a most profound humility,
which is evidently remarkable, both in the Mother
and her blessed Son. They disdained not a stall
for their habitation, a truss of hay for their bed,
dumb creatures for their companions ; with every
thing about them that seemed lowly, mean, and
contemptible. Each of them, with the greatest per
fection, always practiced this virtue, and in the
46 THE LIFE OF OUR
most minute actions of their whole lives strongly
recommended it to us. Let us, then, by serious
endeavors, apply ourselves to the study of it, and
be earnestly solicitous of embracing it because with
out it there is no salvation. None of all our actions
can be pleasing to God, if joined with pride : for,
according to St. Augustine, pride was the occasion
of that unhappy change among the angelical spirits,
transforming them from angels of light into devils ;
whereas humility, raising mankind above their na
ture, transformed them unto the state of angels.
Hence St. Bernard asks the following question :
" What ought mankind to be, whose happy lot it
is to repair the vacant seats of the reprobate
angels?" Pride once invaded that heavenly king
dom, it shook its walls, and in a great measure un
dermined them. What then follows hence, but
that a vice so pestiferous is become odious to that
city, and the worst of all abominations ? Be as
sured, brethren, that he who spared not the angels
for their pride, will not fail severely to chastise
mankind . for he never acts inconsistently, but is
perfectly conformable in all his works.
Lastly, contemplate in this divine child and his
sacred parent, but more especially in the infant
Jesus, that more than ordinary anguish which pierc
ingly affected their tender hearts. Concerning which
St. Bernard again says : "The Son of God being to
be born, in whose power it was to choose whatever time
he pleased, made choice of that time which was
most afflicting to sense and tormenting to flesh ;
especially to a tender infant, the son of a poor and
distressed mother, who had scarcely clothes where
with to cover him, and no better cradle than a man
ger to lay him in : and notwithstanding the great
necessity there was for them, we find no sort of
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 47
mention made of warm furs, or downy mantles ;
and again, Christ, who cannot possibly be mistaken,
chose that which was most disagreeable to the flesh.
It is a consequence therefore unquestionable, that
this in itself is most eligible, most advantageous, and
infinitely preferable to all other things ; and whoever
should endeavor to persuade, or teach the contrary,
ought to be looked upon as no better than a public
and dangerous impostor ; and as such to be shunned
and avoided by every Christian who places his chief
interest in his salvation." And again, "He," says
the Saint, "was a long time before foretold by the
prophet Isaiah to be a child, that should know how
to refuse evil and choose good. — Isa. vii. It is there
fore an evident truth, that the pleasures of the flesh
are evil, and afflictions are good ; for this that the
eternal wisdom, and the infant word in human flesh,
made choice of the latter preferably to the former."
Thus far St. Bernard. Go thou and do the same
from so great an example : but with discretion, how
ever, so as not to exceed the bounds of your own
station. Much more might be said concerning these
virtues, but let us now return to the little mansion
of the nativity.
The Son of God being now born, the innumerable
multitude of celestial spirits, which were there as
sisting, paid devout adoration to their God ; and
forthwith hastened to the shepherds, about a mile
distant from Bethlehem, and related to them the
birth of our Lord Jesus, with the time and place,
when and where it was effected. Thence, with joy
ful acclamations, singing canticles of praise and
glory, they ascend with all speed the celestial re
gions, carrying to their fellow -citizens the same joy
ful news of their Lord's nativity. Wherefore the
whole court of heaven, in raptures of joy at the auspi-
48
TUB LIFE OF OUR
cious things, celebrated the sacred mystery with the
utmost solemnity : and due thanks being paid to the
THB BLESSED MABY A1TO ST. JOSEPH KNEELINO ADORE THE HOLT
CHILD.
Almighty Majesty of God the Father, for the great
goodness and omnipotence he had manifested in this
work, they all successively, according to the dif
ferent orders of their heavenly hierarchy, descend to
behold the lovely and gracious countenance of their
Lord, their King, and their God ; and devoutly and
reverently adoring him, and rendering all due and
profound respect to the blessed Virgin Mother ; they
filled the air with the sweet and melodious harmony
of canticles of praise and thanksgiving to the Al
mighty. And what one among them, having re
ceived the joyful news, could have remained in Hea
ven, nor descend obsequiously to visit their Lord thus
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
49
humbled, thus reduced to the lowest condition upon
earth ? None of them could be capable of so great
an arrogance. And therefore the Apostle says, that
when the Father of Heaven 'brought his first be
gotten Son into the world, he said, that, all his
blessed angels should icorship him. — Heb. i. This
to me is a most pleasing subject of meditation whether
it happened exactly as here related or not.
ANGELS APPEAR TO THE SHEPHERDS BY NIGHT.
To the angels succeeded the shepherds, who came*
in their turn to pay their homely, but not less wel
come homage ; which done, full of joy, which the
devout practice of our known duty inspires, they de
parted, but not without having first related all that
the angels said to them. The blessed parent ob
served diligently all that was said of her divine in-
50 THE LIFE OF OVR
fant and kept a pleasing record of it within her own
breast. Thou too, O Christian loiterer! throw thy
self on thy knees, and in atonement for thy past neg
lects, most cordially worship the Lord thy God. de
voutly greet his holy Mother, and reverently salute
the holy and venerable St. Joseph. Then in spirit
tenderly kiss the feet of the infant Jesus, humbly
extended on a bed of hay ; and earnestly and de
voutly request him of onr blessed Lady, humbly in-
treating her to vouchsafe to premit you to take him :
receive him into your arms, embrace him with tender
affection, attentively contemplate the sweetness of
his sacred features, and with the most profound
respect salute him often, salute him tenderly, plac
ing all your confidence in his goodness, and all your
delight in his conversation. This you may boldly
presume to do, though a sinner, because he came
into the world to sinners, to work the salvation of
sinners ; and after having a long time conversed
among sinners with all humility and meekness, he
made himself the food of sinners. His divine bounty
therefore will readily grant you this favor, as often
as your devotion shall lead you to require it.
Neither will he deem it an effect of your presumption
but a proof of your love ; let not his goodness, how
ever, lessen the fear and reverence with which you
ought to approach him ; but reflect that he is the
Holy of Holies, and awed by that consideration,
treat him with the respect becoming him. When
you have contemplated him sufficiently, restore him
again to his Mother, and learn from her how to use
him. See with what care, caution, and prudential
tenderness she executes her charge, suckles him,
nurses him, and performs every other little office as
occasion requires. Be mindful often to meditate
upon these subjects, take a pleasure and delight in
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 51
them, and with all the devotion you are master oi',
endeavor to show your desire of aiding our blessed
Lady and her divine infant Jesus ; often p,;:/:o 011
his amiable aspect, on that divine countenance ;* iiu !i
the angels themselves covet to behold, but forget not
my former advice to you ; let fear and reverence
temper your zeal and devotion, lest you meet with
a just repulse ; for your own native poverty and
meanness ought to render you unworthy, in your
own eyes, the conversation of such, divine and
heavenly company.
It might afford us new matter of spiritual joy,
were we to contemplate the greatness of this day's
solemnity. On this day was born Christ, that is, the
Lord's truly anointed. And therefore, this is truly
the birthday of the eternal King of Heaven, the Son
of the Almighty God. This day, Unto us a cJiild
is born, and unto us a Son is given — Isa. vi.
On this day, the sun of eternal righteousness, which
before was eclipsed, spread forth the bright beams
of his mercy and grace to the world. On this day
the Holy Ghost, head of the chosen people of God's
Church, came forth from the inward recess of his
sacred bride- chamber, and the fairest in form of
the sons of men, graciously unveiled his lovely and
long-wished for and pleasing countenance.
On this day was first heard that angelical hymn,
Gloria in excelsis Deo, etc. Glory be to God
on high, etc. This day, as the church everywhere
sings, the heavens distilled honey, and the earth
echoes with angelical notes. On this day the hu
manity and benignity of God our Saviour first ap
peared among us. On this day God was worshipped
in the likeness of sinful flesh. On this day Avere
fulfilled those two wonderful mysteries surpassing
all understanding, and to be reached only by faith,
52 THE LIFE Of OUR
to wit, God is born, and a Virgin brings forth a Son.
On this day many, almost innumerable, other mir-
icles were wrought. ID a. word, it was on this day,
THE HOLT CHILD JESUS IS ADORED BY THE SHEPHERDS OF BETHLEHEM.
properly speaking, that all that has been said of the
Incarnation, shone forth in its true lustre. For
whatever was begun before, was not completed nor
manifested till now : wherefore, it may not be im
proper to unite those passages which seemed differ
ent in point of time, and to make them the subject
of the same devout meditation. Not without great
reason then, you see, is this day a day of public re
joicing, of spiritual mirth, and universal gladness.
To confirm which, God was pleased to work the fol
lowing miracles in the very centre of Paganism. At
Borne w;i:j a celebrated tavern, or house for drinking,
LORD JESUS CllRIS'I. £k
known by the title of the Pay house, because thither
the Roman soldiers used to resort, to regale them-'
selves, and to spend their pay when they received it ;
and here, on the same day on which Christ was born,
sprung forth a rich fountain of precious oil ; and at
the same time, a circle round the sun, in appeal ance
like the rainbow, was seen in the Heavens, and visi
ble to the whole universe. And the golden statue
which Romulus, the founder of the Roman state, had
erected in his palace, and which, according to the
Pagan oracles, was not to fall till a virgin should bring
forth a son, tumbled down to the ground, and was
reduced to dust. All this came to pass on the very
day and instant that Christ was born In which
place, in honor of the Blessed Virgin, Pope Calistus,
in process of timo built a church, now called St.
Mary's Trans- Ty be"
T11E 11OLY SIMEON TAKES THE INFANT JESUS IN HIS ARMS.
In chapter VII, THE CIRCUMCISION OF OUR LORD JESUS.
UPON the eighth day after the blessed infant
was born he was carried to the temple to be
circumcised, according to the law of Moses. Two
great mysteries were pel-formed on this day. The
first is, that the blessed name, through which only
salvation is to be obtained, was this day made man
ifest to the world ; and our blessed Lord and
Saviour publicly called by the name of JESUS ;
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 55
which name had been given him by his heavenly
Father from all eternity, and by the holy angel be
fore he was conceived. And they called his name
Jesus ; that is a Saviour. Which name, as the
apostle says, Phil, ii., is above all names. For
neither is there any other name in Heaven given
to men wherein we must be saved. — Acts iv. The
second is, that on this day our Lord Jesus began to
shed his most precious blood for our sakes. So
earnest was he to begin early to suffer for us, that
he who knew no sin undertook this day to endure
the pain of it for us.
Here let tenderness move us to compassionate him :
let us shed at least some few tears with him, who on
this day shed so many for us. For though upon
solemn days we rejoice at our salvation purchased
by the mysteries they commemorate ; yet ought we
likewise to conceive an inward sorrow and compas
sion, for the anguish and pain endured by him, who
so graciously performed them. We have already
seen how many were the afflictions he suffered, to
gether with the great poverty, penury, and distress
he underwent at the time of his sacred nativity.
But among other things was this, which hitherto
has not been related. His blessed Mother when she
had reposed him in the manger, having no pillow
with which to raise his head, made use for that pur
pose of a stone, which not unlikely she might cover
with hay. This I had from a devout brother who
saw it in spirit ; and the s;mi" stone being now fixed
in the wall, is a visible memorial of it. A cushion
or a pillow, we may piously imagine, would much
rather have been her choice, had she been mistress
of one ; but having nothing more proper to answer
the end, to the great affliction of her tender heart,
she was compelled to make use of that.
56 THE LIFE OF OUR
We have said before, that on this day he began
to shed his sacred blood for us, and that indeed in a
most severe manner ; for his tender flesh was cruelly
separated with a blunt and edgeless instrument of
stone. What pity then ought not this move us to,
towards him and his holy Mother ? What tears then
did not the tender infant Jesus shed at the incredi
ble pain he suffered in the incision of his sacred
flesh ; for his was truly so, and as sensible of pain
as that of any pure mortal. And can we reasonably
imagine then, that his holy Mother, when she saw
her beloved child in tears, could contain herself from
them ? No, we may well suppose, that like a com
passionate parent, she ever accompanied him in all
his afflictions ; so that her tender heart melting now
with grief in seeing him cry, she burst forth into
tears herself, and wept bitterly. So likewise, may
we imagine that more affected with his Mother's
grief than his own, the holy babe, as he lay extended
on her lap, waved his little hands towards her lips,
her cheeks, and her eyes, as it were to dry up those
precious drops, and to request her to forbear shed
ding them, struggling at the same time, to hide the
excess of his own torture to mitigate her's. But
she, alas ! was too sensibly affected with his suffer
ing not to shed tear for tear with him. Yet the
divine wisdom within her, supplying the want of
speech in him, enabled her to know his pleasure,
before he had words to utter it ; hence, perceiving
that her grief added to his pain, often would she
try to suppress it, and with signs of forced tranquil
lity endeavor to console him ; still often would she
sigh, and with forbidden tears, ready to flow from
her eyes, and waiting as it were in a sfate of violence
to break forth, thus frequently would she address
him with complaints of the most tender love: "For-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. .-,7
bear, lovely babe ! forbear those precious tears, or
suffer mind to flow. How can thy loving Mother
see those dear eyes bedewed and cease to weep?"
Hence the blessed infant, in compassion to his holy
Mother, would moderate his sobs and give over
weeping, and she with a Mother's tenderness, would
wipe his sacred eyes and her own, incline her face
to his, closely and tenderly press his blessed cheeks,
and give him suck ; and study meanwhile the most
likely means to lull his pain and cherish him. In
this manner, she behaved as often as he bewailed
himself, which we may reasonably believe he often
did after the nature of other children. — First, to
show the miserable weakness, and wretchedness of
man's condition, whose nature he had truly assumed.
And, secondly, to conceal himself from the devil,
that he might not as yet know him to be God : for
this reason, the holy church alluding to him in part
of her service, sings : " The tender infant, as he lies
in the cold manger shakes and cries."
From this time, indeed, the circumcision of the
flesh was abolished, and its obligation ceased, bap
tism being instituted in its place, which is a sacra
ment of more extensive grace, and less repugnant to
nature, as being void of pain. And yet, gentle
reader, the practice of spiritual circumcision ought
still to remain in force, which consists in divesting
ourselves of all that is superfluous, and embracing
true poverty of spirit. He, and he only, is in truth
spiritually circumcised, who is truly poor. This,
says St. Bernard, the apostle teaeheth us in few
words, Having food and raiment let us be content
therewith. — 1 Tim. vi. In a word, our spiritual
circumcision must appear in all our senses. Let us
then show we are indeed spiritually circumcised, by
renouncing, as much as our nature will admit of.
gg THE LIFE OF OUR
the use of sight, of hearing, of taste, of touch, but
above all, our speech. Much talk is a very great
vice, odious to God and man, and ever attended
with fatal consequences. We must, therefore, show
ourselves circumcised in speech : by speaking sel
dom, and never but to a good purpose : to speak
much is a sure sign of levity. On the contrary, si-
Jence is a noble virtue, and not without great reason,
especially recommended to religious persons. Con
cerning this subject St. Bernard says, " He is truly
qualified to speak who has first learned to be silent,
*or silence is the only proper nature of speech."
A^nd again in another place: "It is ever the pro
pensity of weak judgments to be rashly forward in
speaking, for the hasty conceptions of a light fancy
are always as hastily delivered by an unbridled
tongue." Wherefore says St. Bernard, on the same
subject: "Who does not know how greatly man
is defiled by the mire dropping from his own tongue :
that is, by his idle discourse, by the falsehoods he
advances, by slander, by flattery ; in a word, by al
most all his conversation chequered with malice and
vanity? To restrain all which, he stands in great
need of silence ; a virtue which is, as it were, the
sentinel of religious hearts, and their chief safe- guard
against irreligion and indevotion. So dangerous is
too much talk, even to laymen, according to that
great Saint. But much more so, if we believe him,
is it to the clergy. Hear what he says elsewhere in
relation to them, " Idleness," says he, " is the mother
of idle jests, and consequently a barbarous step
mother to virtue. Innocent jokes are trifles in the
mouths of laymen, but all ludicrous discourse is un
seemly in the mouths of clergymen. Priests may
sometimes take a joke, but should never indeo^tlv
return it. It is unworthy their dignity to defti*,
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 59
with sucn kind of discourse, those lips which are
dedicated to, and consecrated by the holy gospel
which they pronounce." s
THE WISE MEN ON THEIR JOURNEY MEDITATE TTPON THE MEANING
OF THE STAR
In chapter VIII, THE EPIPHANY, OR MANIFESTATION OF OUR LORD
JESUS.
ON this day, which is the twelfth after the na
tivity, our Lord Jesus vouchsafed to make
himself known to the Gentiles, in the person of the
three kings. Render yourself present then, pious
reader, to every circumstance herein related con
cerning Ihis holy and solemn festival : for you are
to understand, that no other festival in the holy
60 THE LIFE OF OUR
church has such a diversity of service in its and-
phons, lessons, responsories, or whatever else be
longs to its celebration as this has. Not that it is
greater or more excellent than all other festivals,
but only that on this day many things both great
and wonderful, were wrought by our Lord Jesus,
which chiefly regard the state and condition of the
church itself.
First, then, the church which is gathered from
the Gentiles, was on this day received by Christ
Jesus in the person of the three kings. For on the
day of his nativity he had manifested himself to the
shepherds, as representatives of the Jews, from
whom, a small number excepted, he met with no re
ception. But on this day he appeared again, and
made himself known to the Gentiles, by whom he
was immediately acknowledged and received, and
from them it is that we are descended, who now
form the church of God's chosen people. This day,
therefore, ought specially to be kept as a most
solemn feast in the church of God, and celebrated
with great pomp, and with hearts full of joy, by
all good and pious Christians.
Secondly, this day, nine and twenty years after
tis nativity, our Lord Jesus was baptized ; by
which mystery he spiritually wedded and truly es
poused his holy church, and united it to himself.
And therefore on this occasion is joyfully sung:
"Hodie ccelesti sponso juncta est ecclesia" etc.
"This day the church is wedded to her heavenly
spouse." For in our baptism, which receives all
its efficacy from that of Christ, our souls being
cleansed from the stain of sin, and newly clothed
with grace, are truly espoused and wedded to him,
and the congregation of souls, thus baptized, con
stitute the church of God's chosen people.
LORD JESUS CHRIST. Q\
Thirdly, on the same day, a year after his baptism,
he wrought his first miracle at the marriage feast,
converting water into wine, which by allegory, may
be likewise taken for the spiritual jnarriage between
him and his church. It is probable likewise, that
on the like day, our Lord Jesus wrought that other
wonderful miracle of multiplying the loaves and
fishes. However, the church on this day only cele
brates the three first of these mysteries.
Consider hence in what great veneration and es
teem this day ought to be held, upon which our
Lord Jesus chose to work so many and such ineffa
ble mysteries. The holy church therefore mindful
of the many benefits and extraordinary fav.ors con
ferred upon her this day, by her divine spouse, to
show her grateful sense of them, rejoices, sings,
and solemnizes the same with praise, thanksgiving,
and the utmost magnificence.
But as the solemn institution of this festival was
chiefly to commemorate the mystery of the Epiph
any, we will on that account proceed to a farther
contemplation of it, and defer meditating on the
others till we shall treat of them in their proper
place, according to the order in which they hap
pened. And even concerning the coming of the
three kings to Christ our Saviour, my design here
is not to lay before the reader any of those learned
comments or moral expositions, which many holy
men with great pains and industry have made on
this subject ; and on this account, for the manner
ol their coming from the east to Jerusalem, the
star which conducted them thither, what passed be
tween them and Herod, or for the matter and mean
ing of their offerings, and other things of the kind,
I refer the reader to the holy gospel and the expo
sitions of learned men on these heads. As I said in
62 THE LIF& i)F 0 UR
the beginning of this work, my intention as well in
this, as in all other incidents which occur in the life
of Christ, is only to set down some few meditations,
according to such devout conceptions as a pious
mind is capable of forming, in relation to thosa
things, which either happened in fact or might have
happened, according to reasonable conjecture. But
it was by no means my purpose to perform the
office of an expositor ; first, because I am unequal
to the task ; and secondly, it would prove too copi
ous a subject for one man to comment upon. Be
mindful then with redoubled attention, to render
yourself present as it were, to every particular here
treated. For in this consists the whole force and
efficacy of these meditations.
The three kings, therefore, being come to Bethle
hem, with a great multitude of people, and a noble
retinue, stopped as the star directed them, at the
little hut, in which our Lord Jesus was born,, The
blessed Virgin hearing the tumultuous noise of
many people, snatches up her blessed Son Jesus in
her arms, and in that moment the three kings enter
ing the little mansion, as soon as they beheld the
holy babe Jesus, threw themselves on their knees to
adore him. Thus prostrate in a devout and reverent
posture they honored him as their king, and wor
shipped him as their God. Reflect how great and
lively their faith must be ! What in reality did
then appear that could excite them to believe, that
a poor, tender infant, in the arms of as poor a
mother, dejected, meanly clothed, in a despicable
cottage without furniture, without company, with
out attendants, could be really a king, could be truly
their God ? And yet such was their faith, that
they believed both, in spite of all that their
senses had to offer in opposition. Such wera
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 63
the guides, such the first leaders which heaven
thought proper to give us, and such the great
originals it behooves us to copy. After they
had devoutly paid this homage to our blessed Re
deemer, and duly honored his holy mother, remain
ing still on their bended knees before him, we may
piously imagine that they now began to discourse
with the holy Virgin, and to ask many questions con-
cerning her beloved Son, which they might do, either
by the help of an interpreter, or by themselves, since
they were men of great wisdom and learning, they
were probably sufficiently versed in the Hebrew
language. They therefore submissively request
her to acquaint them with the particular circum
stances relating to the holy babe and herself. The
Blessed Virgin relates to them, and they readily
believe all that she tells them. Observe reverently,
with what awe they address and listen to her by
turns. Mark too with what graceful majesty, mixed
with a becoming modesty, the sacred Queen of
Virgins returns the necessary replies ; neither for
ward to talk, nor desirous to be seen. Yet God on
this occasion endowed her with more than usual re
solution to support her dignity in the presence of
these prince]y votaries, as they represented the
whole church, which he afterwards was to estab
lish, and did establish. Here again contemplate
our Lord Jesus, who not yet pleased to speak, with
benign and pleasant aspect, fixed his eyes upon
them, and with gravity becoming his full maturity
of judgment, attentively observes them, full well
understanding all that passes. And what pleasure
must not these admiring princes conceive, in be
holding him, the fairest and the most beautiful
among the children of men ! And to behold him
not merely with the eyes of the body, but with a
64 THE LIFE OF OUR
kind of mental intuition, as men inwardly taught
and enlightened by the object they gazed on. Thus
replenished with joy and consolation, at length,
they made their offerings to him in the following
manner: Opening their coffers and spreading a
carpet at the feet of our Lord Jesus, they humbly
kneeled down before him, and laying their treasures
at his feet, devoutly offered him the precious gifts of
gold, frankincense, and myrrh in great abundance,
but more especially of gold. We may reasonably
suppose that the gifts of these three kings were
both great and rich, and that the gold might exceed
all the rest in quantity and bulk ; for had their of
ferings been but small and of little value, it would
have been a needless trouble for them to have opened
their treasures, as the gospel says they did, when
their servants, who were near at hand, might have
helped them to what they wanted, more readily,
and with less trouble.
When they had completed their offerings and laid
their precious treasures before him, they reverently
prostrated themselves and devoutly kissed his
sacred feet. And why may not we piously imagine
that the blessed infant, full of divine wisdom, the
more to comfort them, and settle their affections on
him, tendered them his divine little hand to kiss, and
blessed them with it ? After this they submissively
inclined to our blessed Lady, and taking leave of her
and St. Joseph, with hearts full of joy and comfort,
they returned again, as the gospel says, into their
native country by another way.
But what, may we imagine, did the Blessed Virgin
do with those gifts, or how can we suppose she em
ployed so great a quantity of gold and other valuable
presents ? Did she, think you, hoard them up for
her own or her divine Son's use ? Did she lay them
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 65
out in the purchase of lands or houses ? No, she was
too much in love herself with virtuous poverty, and
knew too well the will of her blessed infant, for their
inward communication of souls, as well as every little
outward gesture, left her no room to doubt of his
contempt of riches. What use then could she make
of them ? What use? The best and only virtuous
use that can be made of earthly riches. In a word,
she distributed them in a few days to the poor: of
so little estimation, nay, so burdensome and offen
sive in the sight of Christ and his Mother, are the
treasures of this world and the pride of kings ! Nay,,
our blessed Lady so entirely disposed of the whole,
that at her entrance after into the temple, to present
her child, she had not wherewith to purchase a lamb
for his ransom, as the law directed, but offered a
pair of turtle-doves for him, the usual offering of the
poor. Thus is it consonant with reason, both to
admire the magnificent devotion of the wise men in
the nobleness of their offerings, and to adore the ex
alted charity and love of poverty of the Queen of
Heaven, in her distribution of them to the indigent.
You have here, gentle reader, before your eyes,
the truest and best commendation that can be given
to poverty : concerning which, two things are espe
cially worthy your observation. First, Christ our
Saviour, and his holy Mother, disdained not to re
ceive alms, like necessitous persons. Secondly, they
were so far from being solicitous to attain riches, or
anxious to hoard them, that they would not so much
as keep what was liberally bestowed upon them, in
creasing daily in the love and desire of poverty.
But have you yet reflected on the profound humil
ity that appears in them on this occasion ? Surely,
if you recollect, you cannot but perceive a most per
fect example of it. We daily meet with many, who,
66 THE LIFE OP OUR
in their own eyes, are very mean, and not raised by
any opinion of merit they experience in themselves,
yet are wholly unwilling to appear such in the eyes
of others, and cannot easily bear to be contemned by
any, to have their faults disclosed, or that the mean
ness of their condition should be made public, lest it
might draw upon them the scorn and derision of the
world. But this is not the example which our Lord
Jesus gives them this day, who, though the supreme
Lord and Master of all things, would have his pov
erty exposed to all, and his low condition appear
openly to others ; and this not to a few only, or to
such as were poor and distressed like himself, but
even to numbers of rich and noble personages, to
princes, and kings, and to their numerous retinue.
Nay, and this at a time of no little danger. For
they who came from such remote countries in search
of the King of the Jews, whom they believed to be
God and Lord of all things, finding him in so poor
and humble a condition, might thence have imagined
themselves grossly deluded, and therefore returned
home without either faith or devotion. But this
hindered not our true lover of humility from giving
us so rare an example, that we might learn from
him never to neglect the true practice of that virtue
under the specious pretext of some fancied good,
but that we should learn to be solicitous of appear
ing contemptible, not only to our own, but even t»
the eyes of others.
-
THE LIFE OF OUR
TIHW OJf THE PRESENT CONDITION OP BKTHLEHKH.
In chapter IX, THE BLESSED VIRGIN REMAINS AT THE CRIB OF BETH
LEHEM TILL THE FULL TERM OF FORTY DAYS IS
EXPIRED.
AFTER the three kings had made their offerings,
and were returning again on their way to their
own country, the Holy Virgin, with her Blessed Son
Jesus, and the Venerable St. Joseph, her beloved
spouse, remained still in the humble stall of Bethle
hem, waiting with patience in that poor and little
mansion, till the full term of forty days was com
pleted, as the law directed, for purification ; as if
«yo THE LIFE OF OUR
she had been full of sin, and denied by her child-
bearing, as others of her sex are, and the child
Jesus only a sinful man and not God, and therefore
under an obligation of complying with the strict'ob-
servance of the law. But because they would enjoy
no special prerogatives above others, they volun
tarily submitted to the law made for others. This
is not the practice of many, who conversing among
the rest of mankind, claim to themselves undue
titles to certain prerogatives above others, and seek
to be singularly distinguished from them, contrary
to the dictates of true humility.
Our blessed Lady then, like other women, re
mained all the while contented, expecting the be
fore-mentioned day on which she was to enter into
the temple. During this space of time she was
studiously watchful, and diligent in the care of her
blessed Son. And oh, most gracious God, how
great indeed may we devoutly imagine was her
solicitude, and with what attention did she look
after him, lest anything should trouble or molest
him ! With what caution, mixed with timorous re
spect, did she officiate about him whom she knew
to be her Lord and sovereign God, never taking
him from, or replacing him in the manger, but on
her bended knees ?
With what unspeakable pleasure, confidence, and
motherly tenderness would she embrace him, often
kiss him, and, sweetly pressing, take inexpressible
delight in him? How often did she behold, with a
kind of innocent and pleasing curiosity, his blessed
countenance and graceful form ! How discreetly was
she used to bind and swathe his tender limbs ! for
as she was profoundly practised in true humility, so
was she also thoroughly instructed in true wisdom.
Wherefore she took special care to perform with the
LORD JESU8 CHRIST. 71
greatest diligence every minute office or duty be
longing to her charge in regard to him, not only
during his infancy, but afterwards. Oh, with what
a free and willing mind did she ever give him suck 1
And the pleasure she then conceived in suckling so
divine a babe, could not but surpass that of the rest
of her sex. St. Bernard says, " That it is not im
probable that St. Joseph often took delight in car
essing the infant Jesus, and devoutly cherishing
him on his knee." Let iis now accompany in spirit
the Blessed Virgin at the manger, and take a pleasure
in the pious meditation of our Lord, the infant
Jesus, from whom there ever flows a plenitude of
divine grace. For every devout and pious soul from
Christmas to the Purification, ought with profound
respect and joyful transports, at least once a day,
mentally to visit our blessed Lady, and to adore her
divine Son Jesus on her knee, piously and affec
tionately meditating on the poverty, humility, and
ineffable goodness of both.
In chapter X, THE PURIFICATION OF OUR BLESSED LADY, OR CAN
DLEMAS-DAY.
NOW when the fortieth day was come, which
was prescribed by the law for purification, the
Blessed Virgin with her Son Jesus, and St. Joseph,
set out from Bethlehem on their journey to Jeru
salem, which was about six miles distant, there to
present her blessed child in the temple, as it is
written in the law. Let us here accompany the
holy travellers on their journey, in devout contem-
72 THE LIFE OF OUR
plation, and help the sacred Virgin to bear her
lovely charge, the infant Jesus ; and with redoubled
earnestness and attention, be inwardly intent, and
as it were present, at everything that is said or
done, being real subjects of the sublimest devotion.
Thus then do they bring the Lord of the tem
ple to the temple of the Lord. At the entrance thereof,
they bought a pair of turtle-doves, or two young
pigeons, to offer to God for him, as was the custom of
other poor people. But as their circumstances were
low, we may rather suppose that their offerings con
sisted only of two pigeons, which were of a less price
than the doves ; and for that reason are mentioned
the last in the law. And the holy Evangelist takes
no notice here of a lamb, which was the usual offer
ing of the rich. At this time the holy Simeon, who
was a man both just and devout, being led by the
divine spirit, came into the temple to see Christ the
Son of God, whom he had long before desired to be
hold, and whom the Holy Ghost had promised he
should see before his death. Wherefore, coming
with speed to the temple, he no sooner beheld the
divine babe than he prophetically knew him, and
with bended knees adored him in his mother's arms.
The holy infant blessed him ; and looking earnestly
upon his mother, bent himself forward, making
signs to go to him.
The Holy Virgin, full of pleasing surprise, un
derstood his blessed will, gave him immediately to
Simeon, who with ecstatic joy and reverence, re
ceived him in his arms, arose and blessing God
said : Now tliou dost dismiss tliy servant, 0 Lord,
according to thy word in peace, because mine eyes
have seen thy salvation, etc., — Luke\\. Prophesy
ing many things concerning his sacred passion.
And holy Ann, the prophetess, at that instant, like-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 73
wise coming into the temple, gave thanks to God,
adored the child Jesus, and spoke many things re
lating to him, and the redemption that should be
wrought by him to all mankind. These things rais
ing great admiration in the mind of the holy Virgin,
she made a sacred record of them, and safely de
posited them in her heart. At length, the holy in
fant stretching forth his arms towards his mother,
was again delivered to her. After this they proceed
forward towards the altar, in the manner of a pro
cession, which is annually represented on Candlemas-
day, throughout the whole church, by the blessing
of candles. First went the two venerable old men,
Joseph and Simeon, hand in hand, with transports
of joy and spiritual mirth, repeating and singing :
Give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good, and his
mercy endureth for ever, etc., — Ps. xvii. The
Lord is faithful in all his works, etc., — Ibid, cxlvii.
For this God is our God, without end, he shall be our
guide forever. — Ibid, xlvii. We have received,
0 Lord, thy mercy in the midst of thy temple. —
Ibid. These were followed by the sacred Virgin
herself, bearing her Blessed Son in her arms, ac
companied by the holy widow Ann, the prophetess ;
who, full of unspeakable joy, walketh with profound
reverence and devotion, close by her side, rendering
all praise and thanksgiving to God. These, then,
were all that formed this procession, which, though
consisting of few persons, represented notwithstand
ing most great and wonderful mysteries. There were
present of every sex and every state, youth, celibacy
marriage, and widowhood. Being come to the altar
the holy Virgin kneeling down, with profound
reverence and devotion, offered her dearest Son to
his heavenly Father, saying: "Vouchsafe, O most
sovereign Lord, to receive your beloved Son, whom
74 Till: LIFE OF OUR
according to the appoininent of your divine will,
and to fulfil the precepts of yonr holy law, J here,
prostrate, offer unto you as the first-born of his
mother. But I beseech your mercy, most gracious
Father, to vouchsafe again to restore him to me;" and
then rising, she laid him upon the altar. Oh,
great God, and most merciful Lord, what a precious
and most acceptable offering was this ! It was
surely such as had never before been made from
the beginning of time, nor ever shall again.
Behold here, and attentively consider how the
blessed infant Jesus quietly remains upon the altar,
like any other infant, and with serene and pleasing
aspect beholding his mother, and the rest who stand
about him, humbly waits with patience to see what
is farther to be done. Then came forth the priest of
the temple, and the sovereign Lord of all things was
again redeemed with the low price of five-pence, or
five small pieces of coin called shecles, the same sum
as it was the custom to pay for poor children.
After Joseph had paid them to the priest, the Bless
ed Virgin joyfully received him again into her arms.
Then taking from Joseph the above-mentioned pair
of turtles, she kneeled down, and lifting up her
eyes devoutly to heaven, offered them, saying:
"Oh! eternal Lord, and most gracious Father of
Heaven, vouchsafe I beseech you to accept this offer
ing, the first small gift which your beloved Son of
hia extreme poverty presents unto you !" Then he,
stretching forth his hands towards the doves, and
lifting up his eyes to heaven, though he said nothing,
yet with pleasing countenance gave most expressive
signs of offering them together with his mother.
And thus she left the birds upon the altar.
Consider here, reader, and diligently contemplate
the great dignity and majesty of those who make
LORD JE8V8 CHRIST. 75
tliis offering : that is, the Blessed Virgin mother, and
her divine Son, Jesus : and let us imagine whether
this little offering, made by such persons, could
possibly be rejected by God ? No? rather may we
devoutly suppose it to have been carried up to heaven
by the hands of angels, and there presented by them,
to have been most gratefully accepted by God Al
mighty, with the loud and earnest jubilees of the
whole celestial court.
After the offering was ended, the holy Virgin,
with her Son Jesus, and Joseph, departed from the
city of Jerusalem, in order to return home again to
the little city of Nazareth, their native place of
abode. But the sacred Virgin, being desirous once
more of seeing St. John before she left those parts, on
her way home visited a second time her cousin St.
Elizabeth. Go thou with her whithersoever she goes,
and in devout meditation assist her in carrying her
lovely babe. When our blessed Lady and St. Eliz
abeth met, they were extremely overjoyed at the
sight of each other, but more especially in beholding
their blessed Sons, Jesus and John, who, with no
less tokens of joy, lovingly congratulated together ;
and St. John, as though conscious of the dignity
of his sacred guest, behaved towards Jesus with the
utmost submission and respect. When they had
rested there some few days, they again prepared for
their journey ; and departed thence for Nazareth.
And here, devout reader, if from what has already
been said, you wish to learn the poverty and humility
they practised, you need only consider the poverty
of their offering, the humility in his ransom, and the
strict compliance in both with the precepts of God's
holy law.
7G
LIFE OF OUR
ST. JOSEPH ESCAPES WITH THE HOLY CHILD AND HIS MOTHER.
CHAPTER XL.
CHRIST'S FLIGHT INTO EGYPT.
NOW as the parents of the holy Jesus were pro
ceeding on their journey to Nazareth, unap
plied of the designs of heaven, and of the treacher
ous machinations of Herod against the life of the
divine infant, the angel of God appeared in a dream
to Joseph, warning him to retire with the babe and
its mother into Egypt ; because that merciless tyrant
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 77
was bent upon the destruction of the child. Upon
this, Joseph immediately rising, ran to awake the
blessed Virgin, and informed her of the angel's warn
ing. Shocked to the .very soul by this alarm, she
suddenly arose, and without a moment's delay, pre
pared to escape ; resolving to neglect nothing that
might contribute to the safety of her beloved Son.
They set out with him that very night, by a priv.ate
way towards Egypt. Here follow them in medi
tation : behold how they snatch up the sleejring in
fant : compassionate their distress ; and reap the
benefit of the many pious remarks, that may here
be made.
And first, consider the many changes our Saviour
experienced of prosperity and adversity. And when
the like changes shall happen to you, learn to bear
them with the manly patience becoming his follow
ers. Whenever you see before you a steep ascent,
be not dismayed, for know that the labor of climb
ing will but enhance the sweets of that repose you
are afterwards to enjoy. Thus Christ was no sooner
born than he was glorified by the pastors as God ; and
yet, how soon after was he circumcised, as if a sinner ?
Thus was he honored with the homage, visit, and
presents of the eastern monarchs, yet humbled to
the association of beasts in a miserable stable, with
no other comfort than that of tears, which the
meanest child had in common with him. Thus, too,
was he solemnly presented in the temple, and ex
tolled by the prophetical predictions of Simeon and
Ann, who is now warned by an angel to depart like
a fugitive from his native country to Egypt. Many
other instances of the like nature you may find in
the life of Christ, from which, with a little virtuous
industry, you may reap the greatest benefit and in
struction. Learn then to curb the transports of
78 TUK LIFE OF OUR
prosperity, by reflecting that they are in general but
the forerunners of adversity. Be firm in tribulation
in consideration of the tranquillity and happiness
that nre to succeed them. For it is the dispensation
of Providence to chequer afflictions with intervals
of pleasure, the better to nourish our hope, and pre
serve us from being borne away by an overwhelm
ing tide of troubles, and to intersperse tribulations
amidst our felicity, that we may not be elated by it,
but remain always in fear from the consciousness
of our miserable condition. All this did our Lord
for our instruction, and to conceal himself from
Satan. Lose not the benefit of it for want of reflect
ing thereon.
Secondly, be mindful, that he who enjoys benefits
and prosperity from the gift of God, has no right to
prefer himself to those who are not blest in the same
manner : and such as are less profusely favored
with them, ought not to be dejected, or envious, in
view of such as are. This, I take occasion to ob
serve from the angelical visit which was paid to
Joseph, not to his blessed spouse Mary, though she
was so much superior to him. So, when we find
St. Joseph, though so eminent in the sight of God,
favored but in a dream with an angelical visit
which was so much more to be coveted in the full
enjoyment of the senses ; we should learn not to be
ungrateful to God, for the gifts of his bounty, by
murmuring when they are not so extensive as our
desires.
Thirdly, consider that it is by the special permis
sion of the Almighty, that the elect are harassed
by troubles and persecutions. It was doubtless no
small affliction to the parents of Jesus that his life
was sought after. For what more terrible nova
•ould be brought to them 2 It is true, they knew
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 79
him to be the Son of God ; but that was not suf
ficient to ward the inferior part from despondency.
Why, might they not have said, why, O Lord, since
thou art Almighty, should it be necessary to fly
with thy Son into Eygpt ? Art thou not powerful
enough everywhere to preserve us unhurt ? Why
should we be reduced to the painful necessity of
fleeing from our native land to a distant and un
known country, through rough and dangerous ways 1
Add to this, that the divine infant was in an age
too tender, seemingly, for so laborious a journey,
being yet but two months old : and his parents unfit
for the fatigues as well as dangers of the road ; the
one, on account of her being so young, the other,
by reason of his age, and both, for want of neces
saries to travel with, which their extreme poverty
denied them. If these were not matters of excessive
aflliction, what are? Do you, therefore, when in trib
ulation, arm yourself with patience, nor expect
from your divine master those privileges which he
did not reserve for his mother, or himself.
Fourthly, consider his ineffable benignity. How
soon and how patiently does he submit to persecu
tion for your sake, and to banishment from his own
country; rather choosing meekly to fly from the
tyranny than to punish the tyrant : more solicitous
to prevent the commission of a crime, than to exer
cise his vengeance on the criminal. 0 how profound
is this patience and humility ! He will neither do
injuries nor return them ; and therefore, meekly
contents himself with avoiding their consequences !
Thus does it behoove us to behave in regard to such
as abuse, ill-treat, or persecute us. Instead of mak
ing a like return, instead of loading them with the
effects of our vengeance, let us bear them with pati
ence, and endeavor to avoid the rage of their
80 THE LIFE OF OUR
malice ; nay, let us pray for them, and return then)
good for evil, after the example which our divine
Master has elsewhere set us.
KING HEROD MURDERS THE INFANTS OF BETHLEHEM.
In fine, our Lord submitted to flee from the face
of his vassal, his servant, his slave ; nay, from a
devil incarnate. In this journey he was borne along
by his mother in her tenderest youth, and by St.
Joseph, a feeble old man, through a rough, wild,
pathless, unfrequented, tedious length of road, to
Egypt ; which requires a fortnight for a courier to.
perform the journey ; and they, perhaps, were some
months in effecting it. For, if we may credit tradi
tion, they crossed that desert in which the children
of Israel remained forty years. And what hunger
and ^hirst must they, not have endured before the
LORI) JESUS &&RIBT. 83
end of their journey ? For how should such pool
and feeble persons be able to carry with them the
supply of provisions necessary for so long a journey ?
And if they did not, where could they be supplied
in so trackless and uninhabited a wilderness ? And
where, think you, could they find shelter from the
hardness of the ground, and the inclemency of the
air, to repose themselves by night, amidst a waste,
where houses might seem useless for want of inhab
itants? Compassionate, therefore, these illustrious
sufferers, who must doubtless have labored under
many great and tedious difficulties and hardships,
as well in their own persons as in that of the divine
babe they carried with them. Accompany them in
mind, and share with them, the heavy toil of carry
ing the blessed infant ; and wish to alleviate, as
much as possible, their excessive fatigues. Grudge
not to bear a little affliction and penance for your
selves ; since so much has been borne for you by
others, by such great personages ; nay, and so many
times. I will not give you, pious reader, any detail
of what happened to them on their way to Egypt ;
all the idols in the country fell in pieces. They
travelled as far as Heliopolis, and there renting a
little cottage, dwelt for seven years in that place, in
the quality of poor, indigent, homeless strangers.
And here, devout Christian, we enter into an ample
and beautiful field for pious and tender meditation:
and therefore, attend diligently to the following re
flections. Whence, and by what means, could they
procure even a homely subsistence for so long a
space of time aa they remained in this country ? Did
they content themselves, think you, with the idle
occupation of begging? No? we are informed by
several sacred writers, how ingenious as well as
industrious our blessed Lady was at sewing and
82 TRB LIFE OF OUR
spinning, and that she was extremely assiduous In
working for the support of her beloved Son and
spouse. They were all constant lovers of poverty
from the beginning, and continued so to the end of
their immaculate lives.
Now, may we not suppose, that she was reduced to
go from house to house to solicit for work ? For how
should the neighborhood know either her wants or
her inclination to be employed, unless she did so ?
And yet, what reluctance must not this pattern of
modesty have felt, in being obliged to expose her
virginal bashfulness to the loose looks of curious
and shameless gazers, by going abroad ! Which,
nevertheless, we may conceive she could not avoid
doing, without taking her beloved spouse and help
mate from his labors, who, no doubt, was busy on
his side in earning as much as old age would permit
him, to aid his sacred spouse to support the blessed
Jesus, till he came to an age to lessen their labor by
his own. Indeed, when he came to the age of youth,
we may without absurdity believe, that he partook
of his mother's blushes, and shared in her labor, by
carrying home the work as she finished it, and soli
citing for more ; for what other messenger can we
suppose she had ? So may we imagine, that often
times the frugal Virgin, to buy necessary food for
him, was forced to send for the money which re
mained due to her for work unpaid, or to importune
and implore for part of it at least. What humilia
tion must it not be for the Son of God to be sent on
such errands ? What must not her confusion be, to
be reduced to send him on it ? And, when the sacred
youth carried home the labors of his parent to such
as had employed her, and requested the fruits of her
industry from them, might he not often meet with
•ome riotous, abusive, noisy person, who, instead
LORD JESUS CHRIST. g j
of money, paid him with ill language, and shutting
the doors against him, sent him home empty 1 How
tnany such insults are not daily practised towards
poor and helpless strangers ! And can we suppose
that Christ escaped them, wbo went thither in search
of them ? How often has he come home hungry, as
children are wont to be, and, asking his mother for
bread, had the mortification to hear her answer him
with a sigh, that she had none to give him ! What
anguish must she not feel on such occasions ! With
what tender words would she try to appease his hun
ger and console him ! With what redoubled industry
would she not labor to procure him the food he
called for ' And how often has she not defrauded
her own mouth, and robbed it of its meal to spare
one for him ! These, and such like points, are exceed
ingly pleasing as well as useful to meditate on, con
cerning Christ and his blessed mother. I have here
paved the way for you to do it. It is now your busi
ness to reap the advantage, by extending and pur
suing with devotion such pious thoughts as these,
in order to become little with the little Jesus. Scorn
not therefore to reflect on the most humble and
minute circumstances that may be conceived to have
attended him, however childish they may appear in
the eye of worldings. For they are most evidently
capable of adding force to our devotion, and new
warmth to our love, to inflame our affection, to ex
cite our compassion, to confer new purity and sim
plicity on our manners, to nourish in us a strong
desire for poverty and humility, to keep up in us a
certain familiarity of practice of the virtues we ob
serve in these divine personages, to create in us a
kind of similitude and conformity with them, and
finally, to raise and strengthen our hopes of enjoying
the fruits of that goodness we so much admire and
84 THE LIFE OF OUR
wish to imitate in them. It is incompatible with
our low state to ascend to the sublimity of God. But
as St. Paul observes, That which seems foolish q/
him, is wiser than the greatest Jiuman prudence ;
and that which seems weak, surpasses all the power
of man. Besides, the meditation of these humble
subjects seems capable of abating, if not totally de
stroying our pride, of weakening our ambition, and
confounding our vain curiosity. So much good
comes from such spiritual employment. See, there
fore, and endeavor to become little with the little
Jesus, that you may, without prejudice to humility,
grow up and be great in the same measure as he
was: follow him whithersoever he goes, and keep
your eyes always upon him.
But have you yet reflected enough to gather from
what has been said, how painful their poverty must
have been, and how mortifying to this modest
family ? Had they, think you, the best of anything,
anything superfluous, anything curious ? No, this
was contrary to a state of poverty ; and, therefore,
she who loved poverty so well, would never have
consented to possess anything of this kind. Nay,
so scrupulous was she of giving way to cariosity, or
anything that seemed opposite to poverty or virtu
ous industry, that she would not at any price, nor
for the sake of any one, so much as put her finger to
rich, curious, trifling, or unnecessary work. No,
she would often say, when such trifles were brought
to her, let them work at this who have not their
time at heart. And how, indeed, could she, in such
a dejected state, afford to idle away so much preci
ous time as is required in the contrivance as well as
working of expensive bawbles, of no signification
even when they are finished ? Though poverty was
not the sole motive that kept her from such kind of
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 85
work : no, had she been less poor than she really was,
she would have refused them alike : since such kind
of employments, properly speaking, are but a more
dangerous kind of idleness, as may appear from many
reasons. First, because they are but an expensive
method of wasting and misspending time : since all
such kinds of labors require many more hours, not
to say days and months, to complete them, than
they possibly can be worth when finished. Secondly,
because they are the causes of vain-glory, in such as
work them. O how many fond and self-applauding
looks does the worker throw away upon such idle
pieces of ingenuity ! That curiously flowered apron,
that embroidered mantle, this other trimming so
richly woven, so well concerted ! How often, alas,
how often does it engross the contriver's thoughts,
even when away from it, even at the most sacred oc
cupations ! And when the mind should be employed
in studying how to render the soul more pleasing in
the sight of God, it has enough to do to contrive, to
carry on, to perfect a work of this nature, of no
manner of consequence when it is done. This is a
weakness the female sex are more particularly guilty
of, a weakness so much the more to be lamented in
them, as they are insensible, in general, how blame-
able it is. And yet I make no doubt but that devout
sex will soon be convinced of it, if they but seriously
reflect on the time they consume, the ill habits they
gain, and the mischiefs they do, and all to tax them
selves and others with an unmerited applause.
Thirdly, these kinds of labors are improper on ac
count of the pride they occasion in the persons they
are done for. Experience shows us, that these thing?
are the proper fuel to feed and foment the fire of
pride. For, as what is mean and lowly cherishes
humility, so what is curious and gaudy nourishes
80 TUB LIFE OF OUR
pride and vanity. Fourthly, they are the causes of
alienating the soul from God : for St. Gregory very
judiciously remarks, "The soul becomes more and
more weaned from the divine love, in proportion as
its affection for earthly objects increases." Fifthly,
they are unhappy incitements to the concupiscence
of the eye, one of the three great origins of sin in
the world : for such vain objects can be useful to no
other end than to attract the looks of the vain. And
yet as often as any one takes delight in idle gazing
on such vain and empty trifles, whether she be the
worker or the wearer of them, so often she offends
God. Sixthly, they are but too often a snare and
bane to such as behold them ; who may many ways
transgress by barely looking on them ; for example,
by taking scandal, by coveting them, by envying the
possessors of them, by rash judgments, by silent
murmuring, or finally, by open detraction.
Think, therefore, how often, and how many ways
God may be offended by such curious trifles, ot
rather laborious idleness, before they are brought to
a conclusion ? And consider whether you, O female
reader, and every effeminate worker of such needless
curiosities, are not guilty instruments of all those
evils ! Wherefore, whoever should persuade you to
work for them such kind of things, you ought never
to comply with their request, because no authority
can justify your consenting to the vanity of others ;
and whatever can possibty tend to offend God, is
absolutely to be avoided. How much more then
are you culpable if, of your own accord, you do it,
to ingratiate yourselves, more desirous of rendering
yourselves agreeable in the sight of man than of
God. Leave, therefore, to worldlings such work*
as are indeed the proper trappings of the world,
but held in aversion by God. It is not indeed as-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 87
touishing that persons of little solidity and less piety
should make such vain amusements their great
business of life ; but what cannot be sufficient Jy
wondered at is, that the more devout part, they, who
are desirous of attaining to perfect purity of con
science, should defile themselves with such filth,
such mere litter ! When it is plain to be seen how
many evils are produced from it, of which it is not
perhaps the least dangerous to one, to act so opposite
to the spirit of poverty. To conclude in a word, such
kind of employments are strong signs of levity,
vanity, and inconstancy, in the generality of those
who give themselves up to them. Be you, therefore,
O spiritual Christian, as apprehensive of sucli amuse
ments as you would be of playing with the venomous
serpent. I would not, however, be thought to con
demn all beautiful works of ingenuity. Nothing is
more innocent than these pretty productions of fancy,
which are designed only for a short relaxation from
more intense applications of the mind, but especially
such works as are dedicated to the service of God at
his altar ; provided they be done without too much
affection, delight, or attachment of heart, for that is
absolutely to be taken care of. All I mean to decry,
are those curious nothings, which tend only to feed
vanity, to nourish luxury, to bring poverty to scorn,
to envervate devotion, and wean the affections of the
soul from the Creator to the creature. Of this kind
of curiosities hear what St. Bernard thinks: "Tell
me, I beseech you," says he, "what can such vanities
avail the body, or what advantage do they bring to
the soul ! They are at best, but a poor, empty child
ish satisfaction." It were hard to invent a severer
imprecation on those, who, despising the peaceful
enjoyment of pleasant repose, delight in the restless
ness of curiosity, than to wish they may be con-
88 THE LIFE OF OUR
demned to the possession of whatever they hanker
after.
But let us return from this long digression, into
which the detestable error of curiosity led me, to
contemplate our blessed Lady in Egypt, amidst her
labors of sewing, knitting, spinning, etc. Think
how diligently, humbly, and patiently she persevered
in these exercises, without slackening in the least
her motherly care of her divine Son, or the business
of her family, still assiduous to her devout exercises
of watching and prayer, whenever her necessary oc
cupations permitted her the leisure. Compassion
ate her, therefore, and &t the same time make this
useful reflection : that even the Queen of Heaven
purchased heaven by violence: and can you then
expect to obtain it otherwise ? It is not improbable,
however, that some charitable matrons of her neigh
borhood, witnesses of her great industry and ex
treme poverty, might now and then send her some
small relief, which she submitted to accept with
humility and thankfulness. Though it is equally
probable that the holy St. Joseph was as industrious
as his great age would permit him, to earn a support
for his family at the laborious trade of a carpenter.
Thus you see what ample objects of compassion
rise before you at every step. Pause here awhile :
then, requesting the blessing of the divine Jesus
and his parent, take leave of these innocent exiles,
who, banished without cause from their native land,
are reduced to wander, and earn their bread in a
foreign country, by the sweat of their brows.
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
89
JESUS IN THE HOLY HOUSE AT NAZARETH.
CHAPTER XII.
OTTR LOKD RETURNS FROM EGTPT.
WHEN the Lord had completed his seven years'
exile in Egypt, an angel appeared to Joseph
in a dream, and bid him carry back the Youth and
his Mother to the land of Israel : for they are now
dead who sought the death of the boy. Joseph
therefore patiently took the child and his mother,
and returned to the country of the Israelities ; but
at his arrival upon the borders, hearing that AT-
90 THE LIFE OF OUR
chelaus, rhe son of Herod, reigned there, ho began
to dread going any farther, till again instructed by
the angel he retired into Galilee, to the city of
Nazareth ; which, according to the martyrology,
was much about the same time of the year as the
Epiphany.
Here again, you see, as before, how God often
sends his revelations, spiritual comforts, and other
graces only as it were by halves, and not according
to the fulness of our wishes. This may appear from
two circumstances. First, from his sending the
angel to Joseph, not openly, but in a dream. Sec
ondly, from the angel's not giving him his whole in
structions at once, but at two several times. Indeed
the gloss says, that God did so, because St. Joseph,
and every one blest in the like manner, must be
more certain of their vision from a repetition of it.
But be that as it may, we ought to set a value upon
every the least gift of heaven, and be grateful for
it, since we ought to assure ourselves that God
disposes everything on his part for our greatest
benefit.
But now let us accompany our Saviour on his
return from Egypt. Be you, devout reader, very at
tentive to it ; it is rich in matter of pious meditation.
Return then mentally to Egypt, witli the pure inten
tion of visiting the child Jesus ; fancj' yourself to
find him among other children, with whom he deigns
to play for their spiritual good. Imagine that he
runs to meet you : for he is all affability, bounty,
and courtesy. Fly then to anticipate him, and throw
ing yourself on your knees, adore and kiss his
sacred feet : then rising, take him into your arms,
devoutly embrace him, and dwell a while in this
sweet contemplation. Think you hear him say to
you : "Welcome hither, 0 devout soul, partake of
LOLJ JEGUS CHRIST. 91
tlio joy with, me, of our being again a! Kbrrly to re
turn to Israel ; and since you are come hither at so
favorable a juncture, stay with mo, and join us in
our journe3T." In consequence of which, express
your joy to him, the desire you have of accompany
ing him always, and everywhere, and the delight
you take in conversing with him. Though, as I have
already observed to you, these kinds of pious
thoughts may, and undoubtedly will, seem childish
in the opinion of worldings ; yet you know that a
devout and frequent meditation on them will yield
you a more than common consolation, and dispose
you to greater and more sublime subjects. After
this, fancy yourself led by our divine Saviour to his
parents, who graciously receive, and courteously
treat you. Throw yourself again on your knees,
and, devoutly revering them, remain along with
them.
The next morning when they are ready to set out
on their journey, imagine you see some of the most
respectable matrons of the city, and the wiser part of
the men, come to accompany them out of the gates,
in acknowledgment of their peaceful, neighborly,
and pious mariner of living and conversing while
among them. For doubtless they had given notice
some days beforehand of their departure, that they
might not seem to steal away ina clandestine manner,
which might have looked suspicious ; now they had
not the same reason for doing it as when they fled
into Egypt, to preserve the infant Jesus from the
hands of a butcher. And now suppose them setting
out, holy Joseph, accompained by the men going
before, and our Lady following, attended by the
matrons. Do you, therefore, take the blessed infant
in your arms, and devoutly carry him before her, for
she suffers him not out of her presence.
92 THE LIFE OF OUR
When they are out of the gates, the holy Joseph
dismisses the company, not suffering them to go on
any farther ; when one of the wealthiest of them
calls the child Jesus, and in compassion to the poverty
of his parents, bestows a few pence upon him ; and
the rest of the company, after the example of the first,
do the same. Compassionate here the confusion of
the divine child, who blushing, holds out his little
hands to receive what the love of poverty has reduced
him to want ; pity likewise his holy parents, who
share his confusion with him, and think on the great
lesson here set you, when you see him who made the
earth, and all that is in it, make choice of so rigorous
a poverty, and so penurious a life, for his blessed
parents and himself. What lustre does not the
virtue of poverty receive from their practice ! And
how can we behold it in them, without being charmed
to the love and imitation of the like perfection !
After returning thanks to their company, and taking
their leave, they proceed on their journey. But
how, think you, was the infant Jesus able to go
through the fatigues of so long a way ? When he
went into Egypt, his infancy made it easy for his
parents to carry him ; but now too big to be carried,
he is yet too little and tender to walk. Possibly in
deed some tender-hearted neighbor might bestow
on them an ass to carry him on. Yet, O admirable
Child ! O delicate Youth 1 O Sovereign of heaven
and earth ! How soon did you begin, and what
labors did you not consent to suffer for our sakes I
Well might these words prophetically apply to you :
1 am poor, and subject to labors from my youth.
What extreme penury ! What endless toil ! What
bodily hardships, and rigorous treatment of yourself
did you not assume for our sakes \ Should not
this very labor of yours we are now meditating on
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 93
have sufficed to redeem us ? Take then the child
Jesus, O devout reader, and in your imagination
place him devoutly on the ass, conduct him carefully,
and when he is inclined to dismount, receive him joy
fully in yourarms, and tenderly cherish him, until his
blessed mother comes up, who may be supposed to
walk slower. Then resign the divine child to her
arms, the reception of whom will serve her instead
of repose.
Thus they repass the desert they came through,
where you may frequently compassionate them on
the way, on account of the little rest they receive,
though wasted day and night with fatigue. When
they reach the utmost skirt of the wilderness, they
find there John the Baptist, who already begins to do
penance, though priveleged from sin. It is said, that
that part of Jordan where John baptized, is the same
which the children of Israel passed over, when they
came through this desert out of Egypt; and that John
did penance near the same place. So that it is not
improbable that Christ might find him there on his
return from Egypt. Fancy then you see him joy
fully receiving them : who, after remaining with him
awhile, and partaking of his coarse and homely pro
visions, share with him in return, the sweets of
spiritual recreation, and then depart. You, there
fore, at meeting and parting, omit not to pay your
reverence to the Saint, but throw yourself at his feet,
and devoutly kissing them, recommend yourself to
the intercession of this youth, excellent and wonder
ful in every circumstance of his life. He was the
first hermit, the founder and pattern of all who make
choice of a religious and solitary life : he was an un
spotted virgin, an excellent preacher, more than a
prophet, and a glorious martyr. After parting from
John, the blessed travellers cross over Jordan, and
94 THE LIFE OF OUR
call at the house of Elizabeth, where they pass some
time in mutual congratulations, spiritual joy, and
celestial mirth. Here Joseph being informed that
Archelaus reigned in Judea, and admonished in
a dream by an angel, they retired to the city ' of
Nazareth in Galilee.
And now we have brought back the child Jesus
out of Egypt, at whose return, the sisters, and other
relations and friends of our blessed Lady, came to
congratulate with them in Nazareth, where they re
mained and pursued their usual love of poverty.
From this time, to the twelfth year of his age, noth
ing remarkable is recorded of the blessed Jesus.
It is said, however, and it is not improbable, that the
fountain is still to be seen there, out of which he
used to draw water for his mot'her. For our truly
humble Lord often did such humble offices for her,
as she had no one else to do them. Here, too, we
may suppose, that St. John the Evangelist, who was
then about five years old, often came to visit our
Lord, accompanied by his mother, who was sister
to the Blessed Virgin. For it is written of him, tbat
he died sixty-seven years after our Lord's passion,
in the ninety-eighth year of his age ; so that at the
<?ime of Christ's suffering, which was when he was
something turned of thirty- three years old, St. John
was thirty-one ; and consequently, the one being
seven years old at his return from Egypt, the other
must be five. Imagine then, you see these holy chil
dren conversing together, and contemplate their
conversation in such a manner as the Holy Ghost
shall vouchsafe to inspire. What will greatly help
your contemplation is, to reflect that this John was
afterwards that disciple whom Christ loved the
most, and conversed the most familiarly with.
LORD JESUS
05
THE HOLY CHILD IS FOUND AMONG THE DOCTORS IN THE TEMFI41
CHAPTER XIII.
OUR LORD JESUS REMAINS IN JERUSALEM.
WHEN our Lord was twelve years old he went
up with his parents to Jerusalem, according
to the law and custom of the festival, which lasted
eight days. Again, then, the divine Jesus under
takes the labor of a long journey, to honor his
heavenly Father on the days consecrated to hm ;
lor infinite was the lore between the Father am*
96 THE LIFE OF OUR
Son. But the joy, which the external pomp and
honor paid to his Father gave the holy Jesus, fell
greatly short of the affliction and bitter anguish of
heart he felt on account of the many crimes by which
sinners dishonored him. Thus then was the Lord
of the law observant of the law ; and thus humbly
did the Creator of the greatest mingle with the least
of his creatures. When the octave was ended, his
parents returning home, he remained in Jerusalem.
Here, pious reader, be attentive and render yourself
present to everything that passes ; you will find
the subject equally devout and profitable. I have
already told you, that Nazareth, the place of Christ's
abode, is about fifteen miles distant from Jerusalem.
When, therefore, in the evening, our blessed Lady
and St. Joseph, who had taken different roads, met
at the inn where they were to put up for that night,
the Virgin not seeing the child with her spouse, in
whose company she expected him to return, imme
diately asks him: "Where is the child Jesus?"
To whom he answers with equal surprise and con
cern, " Is he not with you ? Alas ! I thought he re
turned in your company ; he came not with me,
neither know I what is become of him." Shocked
at this unexpected, and unlocked for reply, the
frightened mother burs ting in to a flood of tears, cries :
"No, ah, no, he came not with me. Alas, alas ! is
this the care I should have taken of my child ? Is
all my tenderness come to this?" Then rushing;
forth distracted with anxiety, she runs from house
to house, with all the composure so much grief was
capable of: "Tell me, oh ! neighbors, tell me, have
ye seen my son ? Where is my child ? For pity's
sake, who has my child ? Ah, dearest Jesus ! where
are you ? What is come of you, my dear, my only
child ?" Thus ran the anxious Virgin from place to
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 97
place, distracted and lost to comfort amidst her
grief and care ; the blessed Joseph in tears ever}*-
where followed to console her. But what consola
tion could either of them receive when they found
not the divine Jesus ? What must their sorrow be,
especially hers, whose tenderness must be greater !
What could avail the comfort their neighbors, their
friends, their relations endeavored to give them?
Can aught compensate for the loss of Jesus? Do
you, therefore, condole with this blessed couple,
whose afflictions must be greater than tongue
can express. For which of all the troubles they
ever suffered could equal this ? Let us not then be
discontented, when trouble visits us, since Jesus
thought not fit to spare his parents. It is his divine
permission that afflictions should come, they are so
many proofs of his love to us, and are calculated for
our benefit.
The blessed Virgin finding all her searches to no
purpose, retires sorrowful to her chamber, and
throwing herself on her knees, with tears of humility
mixed with confidence, she thus addressed herself
to God, her constant refuge and holy comfort : " O
God, my Father, my eternal Lord, my all-sweet and
benign benefactor I You vouchsafed to bestow your
beloved Son upon me, and I, alas, have lost him ;
nor know I where to seek him. Restore him to me
again ; oh 1 restore him to me ! Remove, O Father,
this bitter heaviness from me, and show me your
Son ! I have acted incautiously, but I knew not that
I did so. Look not therefore on my negligence, but
on the excess of my affliction ; and, out of your im
mense goodness, give me back my Son, without
whom life would be a death to me. Oh ! where are
you, my dearest Son ? What is come of you? Who
enjoys the blessing of cherishing you in my stead 1
0£ T.Y/-7 LTFE OP OUR •
Are you returned to heaven to your divlr,^ leather!
For 1 know you are the !Son of (rod, ana bod your
self ! Why then did you not acquaint me with your
departure, that I might once more have embraced
you in these arms, and pressed these lips to your
divine mouth before I lost you ? Or rather, has not
some insidious mortal laid a snare for you '( For I
know you are truly man, begotten of this flesh of
mine. Too well I remember the hurrying you away
to Egypt in your tenderest infancy, to preserve you
from the rage of Herod. And too much, too much
I dread, you are fallen into the hands of such an
other tyrant. But, oh, may your heavenly Father
preserve you from every harm, m}^ dearest child !
Return, oh dearest Jesus, to your afflicted mother ;
or let me know but where you are, and I will come
to you ! Forgive this one neglect, and I will never
neglect you more. When did I ever offend you, that
you should leave me thus \ I know you are not un
acquainted with the grief that overwhelms me ; oh,
ease me then, my dearest Son, and delay not return
ing to me. Did I, ever since I have borne you, eat,
sleep, or live without you before? And now I am
without you without knowing how. You know you
are all my hope, my life, my joy, and that I cannot
subsist without you. Instruct me then, where you
are, or how I may find you."
With these and such like ejaculations, the holy
mother of Christ soothed her sorrow till the next
morning, when, by break of day, they went forth
seeking him round all the neighboring villages ; for
there were many ways from Jerusalem to the place
where they then were. Not finding him this day,
they went the next in search of him to other places,
nnd along other ways, enquiring among all their
friends and relations: and now, nol finding bim. the
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 99
afflicted iiiomer redoubles her fears and anxiety.
But the third day returning to Jerusalem, they found
him in the temple, sitting in. the midst of the doctors.
No sooner did the blessed Virgin cast her eyes on
th « beloved child, than, transported with a sudden
and inexpressible joy, she throws herself on her
knees, and with tears of consolation, returns her sin-
cerest thanks to God. The divine youth, seeing his
mother, came up to her, who immediately clasping
him in her arms, pressed, embraced, and sweetly
fondled him. Now she tenderly prints her kisses
on his cheeks, and holding him at her bosom, stands
immovable, unable, as yet, through an excess of
tender transport, to speak to him : till the desire of
possessing him again in safety, stopped the over
flow of joy, and gave her words a vent. Then, look
ing wishfully on him, "Why, ah, why, my dearest,
Child, have 3^011 used us thus? With what grief
have not I and your Father been seeking you!"
" Why," said he, " did you seek me? Know you
not that it behooves me to attend to my Father's
business?" But this they did not understand the
meaning of. The joyful mother immediately informs
her Son of her desire to return to Nazareth. "My
Son," said she, " it is my desire that we go back to
our peaceful home : and will you not console me
with your company thither?" "Yes, O beloved
parent," replies this pattern of obedience, "your
pleasure shall be mine." And what he said he per
formed, returning with his parents to Nazareth, sub
mitting wholly to their will in all things, as other
children ought to do.
You have beheld then the affliction of the blessed
mother on this occasion ; and now consider the
hardships of her divine Son, during these three
days. Imagine then you see him at the door of some
100 THE LIFE OF Off R
poor man craving admittance, where he is received,
and sparingly helped to food. Thus the poor child
Jesus delights to associate with the poor. Next
consider him sitting amidst the doctors : where,
with a serene, wise, and respectful countenance, h*
questions them as if he were ignorant of the things
he asks : all which he does partly out of humility,
partly not to confound them with the miraculous
readiness of his solutions.
Here, likewise, you may consider three very re
markable truths. The first is, that whoever wishes
to be united to God, must not be attached to parents,
friends, or relations, but renounce them. Fctf
Christ, when he was intent upon the affairs of his
heavenly Father, forsook his beloved mother, and
was not to be found among any of his relations.
The second is, that no one who leads a spiritual life,
ought to wonder, if he is sometimes in a sterility of
devotion, and seems to be forsaken by God, &ince
the same thing happened even to the mother of God.
Let not such persons then be cast down, but seek
and endeavor to find him, by persisting in devout
meditation and pious works. The third is, that no
one should be tenacious of their own will or pur
pose ; for though our Lord Jesus has said, that it
was proper for him to attend to the work of his
divine Father, yet he changed his purpose, and
followed the inclination of his blessed mother, and
accompanied her and her holy spouse to Nazareth ;
where he remained, submissive to their will. In
this you may likewise admire his profound humility,
of which we shall take more notice hereafter.
I
.£2
"S
O
LORD JESUt CmtlST. 103
CHAPTER XIV.
OUR LORD'S LIFE FROM THE TWELFTH TO THE
TIETH YEAR OF IJIS AGE.
OUR Lord Jesus, therefore, returned from the
temple and from Jerusalem with his parents
to Nazareth, and lived under obedience with them
till the beginning of his thirtieth year. Nor do we
find in sacred scripture any thing he did remarkable
during that time. What then shall we admire in
him, or conceive him to have done during so great
an interval ! For if he did anything worthy admi
ration, why was it not recorded as well as the rest
of his actions ? It seems surprisingly strange !
But take notice here, that his doing nothing won
derful was a kind of miraculous action. For noth
ing that attends his life is void of mystery. While
he was spending his life in practical virtue, he kept
silent, seemingly inactive, and abstracted. This
sovereign Master then, who was to teach all virtues,
and to point out the path of life, began from his
youth, by sanctifying in his own person the practice
of the virtuous life he came to teach, and that in a
private ineffable manner, unheard of before ; that
is, appearing in the eyes of the world useless, abject,
and simple, as we may devoutly conceive without
danger of rashness. Though I do not pretend to
affirm anything of this kind, or any other indeed
which is not evidently confirmed by the holy scrip
tures, or the traditions of the Fathers, as I have al
ready declared in the beginning of this work.
104 THE LIFE OF
Our Saviour then during this space of time, as we
may reasonably conjecture, retired, as much as pos
sible, from the company and conversation of men ;
spending much time in the synagogue, which was the
Church of that day, where, in the lowest place, h»*
would remain for a long time recollected in fervent
prayer to his divine Father. Thence he would re
turn home to his beloved mother and her blessed
spouse, whose labor he would often alleviate by his
assistance. He would pass and repass amidst the
busy world about him, with an air of as little atten
tion to their affairs, as if he did not see mankind :
and these would stupidly wonder that so fine a youth
should be seen to do nothing worthy their praise.
All expected him to make a shining and consider
able figure among them. For while he was a boy,
he increased equally in age and wisdom in the sight
of God and man. But growing up from his twelfth
to his thirtieth year, he was not remarkable for any
actions either during his youth or manhood above
the common sphere : which occasioned an universal
surprise, and drew upon him the derision of the
public, who used to call him a useless idiot, an in
significant creature, and a stupid mortal, or by some
such opprobrious ti ties. Neither did he apply to any
learning, insomuch that it became a kind of proverb
to say, that he was but an old minor. Such a life
did he lead and persist in, though it brought him into
contempt with all men, who looked upon him as
mean and contemptible, which he previously foretold
of himself by the mouth of his prophet, saying, /
am a worm, and not a man.
You see then, how much our Lord did, though
seeming to do nothing ; he rendered himself mean
and despicable to all, as I have already said. And
certainly I know no greater or more difficult practice
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 105
in all tne duties of life than this. And they, in my
opinion, may be said to have reached the very sum
mit of Christian perfection, who are so far advanced
in it as to be able totally to overcome the arrogance
of their flesh, and truly and unfeignedly to consent
to be reputed as nothing, and even contemned as
mean and insignificant. A victory over one's self of
this nature is greater and more glorious than the
sacking a strongly -garrisoned town, according to the
words of Solomon. "The patient man is better than
the strong one, and he that conquers his spirit than
the conquerers of a city." — Prov. xvi. Until you
arrive to this point, never flatter yourself with having
done anything. For, as in reality we are but use
less, even when we have done our best, according to
to the words of Christ, till we attain to this degree
of humility, we are nothing at all, but a vain and
empty mass ; which the Apostle very plainly ex
presses, "Whoever thinks himself to be. something,
being really nothing, deceives himself." — Gal. vi.
If you ask why our Lord practiced this, I shall an
swer you, that it was not on his own account, but
for your instruction. And therefore, Christian, if
you do not profit from so great a lesson, you become
inexcusable. For it is an abomination to see a worm,
and the destined food for worms, strutting with arro
gance, and vainly raising himself, when the Lord of
Majesty deigns to stoop to so abject a degree of
humiliation.
If any one should deem it an absurdity to be-
lieve that our Lord Jesus led for so long a time such
a life of seeming inactivity as here mentioned, and
is rather disposed to think the evangelists defective
in the accounts they give of him : I answer, in the
first place, that the example of so much and such
great virtue, cannot properly be called a state of
THE L11<'E QF OUR
inactivity ; since it was the most useful lesson he
could give us, as being, properly speaking, the
foundation of all virtue. Secondly, it is written in
the Gospel of St. John, " When the comforter shall
come, the Spirit of Truth whom I send to you fiom
the Father, who proceeds from the Father, he will
give testimony of me, and ye shall give testimony
,of me, because you are with me (that is, in the
quality of preachers) from the beginning." — John
XT. And Peter says, at the election of St. Matthias
the Apostle, " It is proper out of these men, etc., from
the time of our Lord Jesus entering in among us,
beginning from the baptism of John, etc." — Acts i.
"Now he was then beginning about t hirty years old."
— Luke iii. John then had not been his precursor,
had Jesus suffered them to preach sooner. Besides,
if he or they had begun their mission sooner, how
comes it that he was then so little among his neigh
bors, that they should enquire, " Is not this the car
penter's son?" — Matt. xiii. When, in a very short
time after, he was commonly called the Son of
David. If then he had begun sooner to do any
thing remarkable, something of it, at least, would
have been hinted in holy scripture, and all the evan
gelists would not have been so profoundly silent
about him. This seems to be the opinion of St.
Bernard, as I shall hereafter quote him. But how
ever the truth of it may be, I cannot but think it a
very pious matter for meditation. It is thus the
Lord Jesus forms the sword of humility, as the
prophet foretold him: "Gird on thy sword upon
thy loins, O thou most powerful !" —Psal xliv.
And with what sword was it more proper to conquer
the infernal prince of pride, than with that of hu
mility ? For we nowhere read of his having en
gaged him with the weajpons of his greatness, but
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 107
the opposite ones, even at the time of his passion,
when he seemed to stand in need of all his immen
sity. Hence the same prophet bemoans him to his
heavenly Father, saying, " You have averted from
hirn the help of his sword, and have not assisted
in the bat tie." — Ps. Ixxxviii. You see then, Chris
tian reader, how our Lord "began first how to do,
and then to teach." — Acts i. Designing one day
to invite you to the imitation of him, with those in
effable words, * ' Learn from me, for I am meek and
humble of heart." — Matt. xi. This then was the
virtue he first chose to practise ; and that not in out
ward show only, but from the inmost recesses of
his heart, for he was truly meek and humble of
heart. He was incapable of fiction, and therefore
readily humbled himself to seem and be mean and
abject in the eyes of men ; insomuch that even after
he began to preach his sublime and heavenly
doctrine, and confirmed it with miracles, their con
tempt of him continued, and they would often say
of him in derision, " Who is this ? Is not this the
carpenter's son?" — Matt, xiii., with other like
scornful expressions. According to this sense then,
it appears how truly the apostle said, "He exani-
mated himself, takingthe form of a servant." — Philip
ii. And not only of a servant, in one sense, by taking
human flesh, but in the lowest sense of the word,
that is, he took the form of a useless servant, by
the lowliness and abject manner of his living. '
Would you see how powerfully our Lord put on
this sword ? Consider his every action, and you
will find humility shining in all its lustre. Do but
recollect, and you will find it in every action
hitherto taken notice of. And in those which
follow, you may observe, that he was so far from
neglecting the practice of it, that he increases in
103 THE LIFE OF OUR
humility during his whole life, giving us frequent
lessons of it to the hour of his death, and even after
death, nay, after his ascension. Did not he towards
his end wash his disciples' feet ? Was he not ex
tremely humbled by the cross he bore on his divine
shoulders ? Did he not, after his resurrection, when
in a glorified state, call his disciples, brethren?
"Go," says he to Mary Magdalen, "and tell my
brethren, etc." — John xx. And even after his as
cension, did he riot converse familiarly with Paul,
and as humbly as if he had been his equal ? " Saul,
Saul, why persecutest thou me ?" — Actsix. Where
he does riot call himself God, but me. And finally
at the great and tremendous day of judgment, will
he not, from his majestic and awful tribunal, way,
" As long as ye have done it to one of the least of
my brethren, you have done it tome." — Matt. xxv.
It was not without reason our Saviour showed
such a love for humility. He knew that as pride
is the foundation of all siri, so humility is the basis
of every virtue, and the first step to salvation. It
is but a tottering edifice that is not built upon the
groundwork of humility. Wherefore, twist not to
your chastity, to your poverty, or any other virtue
you are possessed of, unless it be accompanied with,
and supported by humility. It was Christ then that
first laid this foundation, and showed how it is to be
acquired, namely, by vilifying and lowering himself
in his own esteem, and in the opinion of all the
world, and by the uninterrupted exercise of self-
humiliation. Go you, then, O attentive Christian,
and do the like, if you would be perfectly humble,
as becomes a Christian ; for humility, self -con tempt,
and the practice of lowly and vilifying work, must
precede all other virtues. In relation to which, thus
says St. Bernard: "Humility, which is obtained by
, LORD JESUS CHRIST. 109
humiliation is the basis of all spiritual structures.
For humiliation is as truly the way to humility, as
patience is to peace, or reading to knowledge. If
you thirst after humility, be not averse to humilia
tion. For if you cannot stoop to humiliation, you
will never be able to rise to humility." And in
another place: "Whoever means to raise himself
above himself, must set out by thinking meanly of
himself : lest, soaring above his sphere, he fall be
neath it, for want of being perfectly grounded in
humility. And, as there is no becoming in reality
great, but by the merit of endeavoring to be little,
therefore, whoever is desirous of rising to perfec
tion, must restrain himself by humility, that hum
ility may raise him." Wherefore, gentle reader,
when you see yourself humbled, rejoice at it ; it is a
good sign, and an argument of approaching grace.
"For as the heart is exalted before a fall, so before
exaltation it is humbled." — Prov. xvi. For it is
alike written, that " God resists the proud, and gives
grace to the humble." — Jam. iv. And a little
farther he adds, " It is doing but little to submit to
the humiliations which come immediately from God,
unless we learn to accept cheerfully those he is
pleased to send us by the means of his creatures."
Learn an admirable example of this from holy David,
who, being cursed by a servant, was too much ani
mated with grace to be moved with resentment of
the injury. " What is there," says he, " between me
and you, oh Sons of Servai." — 4 Kings xiv. Oh, true
man according to God's own heart, not moved to
indignation or anger, by the scornful reproaches of
a slave ! Well might he say with a safe conscience,
"If I return evil to those that did evil to me. "—Ps.
vii. Let this much suffice, at present, on the virtue
humility.
THE LIFE OF OUR
Now let us return to the life and actions of Christ,
which is and ought to be the mirror of ours, and the
principle object of our intention. Be present then,
as I have often exhorted you, to all that relates to
him. And contemplate that blessed family, small
indeed in number, but great in dignity, rich in grace
and virtue, but poor and humble in their manner of
Mving. The venerable old man, Joseph, sought with
all possible industry, as much employment in his
humble profession, as his feeble age would permit
him to go through : and our Lady was as diligent
at her manual labor, besides (lie business of her
family, which we may suppose was not little, the
preparing of food for her divine Son, her blessed
spouse, and self, with other domestic labors arising
from this, were all done with her own hands, as she
was too poor to have any one to help her. Com
passionate her therefore for the laborious life she
leads ; compassionate likewise our divine Lord, who
shares with both their most laborious occupations,
for " he came to minister, and not to be ministered
to," as he himself says. — Matt. xx. Fan^y then
you see him busied along with his beloved parents,
in the most servile work of their little mansion.
Devoutly imagine you see these three sacred persons
sitting at their frugal meals, not made up of dainties
or expensive food, flattering to the palate and in
flaming to the passions, but composed of the coarse
and homely provisions usual among the poorest
people. What sublime, what heavenly conversation
passes between them ! No vain, no idle discourse
finds admittance there ; but every sentence is holy,
full of wisdom, and dictated by the Holy Ghost.
O ineffable banquet, where the mind is no less sub
stantially nourished than the body ! After their
meals, all retire to prayers-, each to their little sepa-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 11}
rate chambers ; our blessed Lady to hers, St. Joseph
to his, and our Saviour to his. Follow our divine
Lord in your mind, and view him devoutly persist
ing in fervent prayer to his heavenly Father. In this
little cell, after spending the greatest part of his
nights in heavenly contemplation, he reposes tha
remaining part on the ground, as meanly as the
poorest of his creatures. Thus do you each night
endeavor to accompany him in your mind. O con
cealed divinity ! why do you thus afflict that
precious, thatinnocent body so continually, when the
fatigue of one such night might suffice to redeem
the whole world ? Did the excess of your love urge
you to all this ? Such was your ardent zeal for the
lost sheep you came to convey to heaven on your
divine shoulders ! Must you, 0 King of Kings,
eternal God, who supply the wants of all, who af
ford all persons of all stations what is requisite
for them ; must you, I say, be subject to poverty,
meanness, and hardship, watching and fasting, and
must every circumstance of your life be at; ended
with severity ? What then shall become of those
who seek nothing but ease, luxury and vanity ?
Surely we did not learn this kind of empty pursuits
from this mortified master ! Are we then wiser than
he is ? No, he has taught us both by word and by
example, humility, poverty, mortification of the
flesh, and exercise of the body : let us then improve
from the lessons of this sublime teacher, who neither
will nor can deceive. And, according to the Apos
tle's advice, "having food and raiment let us be
content with them." — Tim. vi. And make such use
of them as proper necessity requires ; but not to
superfluity ; at the same time, carefully and con
stantly attending to the spiritual study and ex
ercise of other Christian virtues.
112
THE LIFE 0V OURi
JESTJfl IB BAPTIZED BY JOHN IN THE JORDAN.
In chapter XV, THE BAPTISM OP OUR LOED JESUS CHRIST.
OUR Saviour, after having lived so painful and
abject a life until he was completely twenty-
nine years old, when he entered into his thirtieth
year, said to his mother, "The time is now come for
me to glorify God and manifest my Father, by ap
pearing in the world, and working the salvation of
man, for which he sent me. Be of good heart, there
fore, O beloved mother, for I will soon return to
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 113
you." Then kneeling to her, as a man and her son,
the great master of humility asks and receives her
blessing. Then she kneels to him as God, receives
his blessing, and tenderly embracing him, with tears,
thus addresses him : " Go, my blessed Son, go with
the blessing of your divine Father and mine, be
mindful of me, and hasten to return to comfort me."
Thus then the blessed Jesus respeci fully taking
leave of his beloved mother and her venerable spouse,
sets out from Nazareth towards Jerusalem by the
way of the Jordan, where he found John baptizing.
Thus the Lord of the world proceeds alone, for as
yet, he had no disciples. View him then attentively,
in the presence of God, and see him travelling alone,
barefooted, through a long and rugged road, and
condole with him. O Lord, whither are you going,
and by what ways ? Are you not the Sovereign ot
all the kings of the earth? Where then, O Lord,
are your nobles, your soldiers, your attendants, and
equipage? Where are your guards to keep off the
populace from approaching too near your sacred
person, as other monarchs are wont to have ? Where
are the trumpets, the instruments, and royal ensigns?
Who goes before to prepare a palace for your re
ception ? Where are all the honors paid to the
royal worms of this world ? Are not the heavens
and the earth filled with your glory ? Why then
do you proceed thus inglorious? "Do not a thousand
thousand* pay homage to you in your kingdom
above, and millions minister to you?" — Dan. vii.
Why then do you thus travel alone, a-foot, nay,
barefooted? But ah! the cause is plain ; you are
not now in your kingdom. "For your kingdom is
not of this world." — JoJin xviii. " You have exani-
mated yourself, taking the form of a servant. "—Phil.
ii. "You are become as one of us, a wayfarer
114 THE LIFE OF OUR
a stranger. —Ps, xxxviii. Like our fathers, you
are become a servant, that we may become kings.
You are to conduct us to your own kingdom, put
ting us in the way that leads thither. Why then,
alas, do we go out of it ? Why do we not follow
you ? Wrhy do we not humble ourselves, but pur
sue and delight in vain honors, empty pomp, and
passing enjoyments? It must surely be because
this is our kingdom, and that we consider ourselves
as natives here, and not as pilgrims ; otherwise, why
should we be so much taken up here ? O senseless
sons of men, why do you embrace the shadow instead
of the substance ? Why prefer ye the dubious and
transitory to what is certain and lastingly solid?
Why so earnest in giving up eternity for what is
but temporal ! Ah, it is too true, O Lord, that we
forget our being but pilgrims and strangers upon
earth, otherwise we should find no difficulty in
following you. We should be content with what
is merely necessary on the way ; and, without bur
dening ourselves, or retarding our journey with
more, follow you, running on after the sweet-
scented odor of your perfumes, we should be free
from every load, and looking on the transitory
things of this life as something behind us, or out
of our way, we should neglect and despise them.
Thus then our Lord Jesus humbly travels on some
days' journey, till he arrives at the river Jordan.
When he arrived at the Jordan, he there found
John baptizing sinners, and a great multitude of
people, who were come thither to hear his preaching :
for they took him to be Christ. Jesus therefore
says to him : "I entreat you to baptize me along
with these people." John looking steadfastly on
him, and knowing him in spirit, with fear and rev
erence answered, "Lord, I myself need to be bap
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
tizedbyyou." "Persistnot, Jolin," replies Christ,
"but let it be done as I say ; for it is expedient that
I fulfil all justice. Conceal, at present, what you
know of me, for my time is not yet come. Baptize
me, therefore, for now is a time of humiliation, and
therefore will I practise humility in its greatest
perfection."
Be mindful, then, of the practice of humility ; es
pecially as we shall now treat of it with more par
ticularity. The commentary on this place tells us,
that there are three degrees in humility. The first
is, to be subject to those above us, and not to prefer
ourselves to those who are equal to us. The second
is, to subject ourselves to our equals, and not to pre
fer ourselves to our inferiors. The third and most
perfect is, to place ourselves beneath and subject
ourselves to our inferiors. This is the degree Christ
practised on this occasion, and therefore he fulfilled
all humility. You may hence observe how wonder
fully Christ advanced in humility, by comparing
this with the foregoing chapter. There he contented
himself with the appearance of a mean and abject,
nay, useless servant ; here he subjects himself to his
own servant, depreciates himself, and extols the
other. There he humbly conversed with mankind,
under the outward appearance of insignificance ; but
here his humility is so improved, that he puts on
the likeness of a sinner, and is contented to pass for
one. For John was preaching penance to, and bap
tizing sinners, yet our humble Lord Jesus will be
baptized in their presence, nay, in company with
them. "He came," says St. Bernard, "amidst a
crowd of populace to the baptism of John. And he
came as one out of the sinfnl multitude, who was
the only one exempt from sin." To judge from those
about him, who would think him to be the Son of
THE LIFE OF OUR
God ? Who would take him for the great Lord of
Majesty: How great is his humility on this oc
casion ? The same humility indeed appeared at his
circumcision, when he likewise took on him the
likeness of a sinner ; but here it shone forth with
greater lustre, in proportion to the greater number
of spectators. But was there not room to apprehend,
that the appearance of a sinner might prejudice him
who intended to preach publicly to sinners? Be
that as it may, it was not a motive strong enough to
hinder this great master of humility from profoundly
humbling himself. It was his pleasure to seek scorn
and self-humiliation, by appearing what he was not
on purpose to leave us a practical lesson. But what
use do we make of that instruction, who, on the
contrary, put on the likeness of everything but our
real selves, purely to deceive the world, that they
may praise and honor us 2 — If we think we possess
any good qualities, how solicitous are we to expose
them to the eyes of the world ; and how industrious
are we, on the other side, to cover all our defects,
though ever so conscious of being sinners ? Where
is the humility of this? Is this the use we make of
Christ's instruction ? In relation to this, hear what
St. Bernard says : " There is a humility produced
by charity, which helps to kindle it ; but there is
another humility void of all warmth, which is en
gendered by self-convicting truth. The latter con
sists in reflection, the former in affection. For if
at the light of truth you look seriously on yourself,
without flattery or favor, you cannot help being
humbled, and appearing contemptible in your own
eyes, from this true reflection, though you perhaps
are unwilling to appear so in the eyes of others. By
these means you will be humble indeed by the
operation of truth, but not by the infusion of char-
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
ity. For were your heart as sincerely humbled as
your mind is convinced of your deserving to be so$
by the light of that truth which has so faithfully
given you to yourself, you would, doubtless, be
willing that others should discover in you the defor
mities which self-conviction has shown to yourself.
Though it must be owned, that it is neither advis
able nor expedient to reveal all that passes within
us, and therefore charity and truth jointly forbid us
to publish such things of ourselves, as may injure
us, or give offence to others. But who can doubt
of your disregard for truth, if, captivated by self-
love, you conceal the truth of your own unworthi-
ness, which you are inwardly convinced of ? You
prove it sufficiently, by preferring to that truth
your own interest and vain honor." And afterwards
he adds : "If then you are really humble with that
true humiliation which truth, the great searcher of
hearts, infuses into the soul, add the humility of
the will to it, and make a virtue of necessity. For
there is no true virtue without the consent of the
will ; which will then be effected, if the desire of
outward esteem in the eyes of your neighbor be
proportioned to the knowledge you have conceived
of the inward state of your soul. For otherwise
you have reason to apprehend, lest the dreadful re
proach of David be justly applied to you. * Because
he hath done deceitfully in his sight, that his ini
quity may be found unto hatred.' — Ps. xxxv.
'Divers weights,' saith Solomon, 'and divers meas
ures, both are abominable before God.' — Prov. xx.
Which means, that having weighed the little value of
your own merit, within your own breast, in the
balance of equity and truth, you measure it out
wardly at a different rate, and impose yourself upon
the world for more value than you really are of. Bv
118 THE LIFE OF OUR
fenr God, and let that fear deter you from the guilt
of so heinou •:, a crime ; that is, of extolling by an
ambitious will, what truth ought to humble within
you : for that is opposing truth, and struggling
against the will of God. Choose rather to acquiesce
with him, and study that your will be ever subject to
truth by a devout and submissive humility. 'For
shall not my soul,' saith the royal psalmist, 'be sub
ject to God.' — Ps. Ixi. Neither is it enough to be
subject to God only, unless you are likewise the same
to all mankind for God's sake; that is, subject to
your superiors, subject to your equals, and subject
to your inferiors. In this manner Christ teaches
us we must fulfil all justice. Go then to your infe
rior if you will be perfectly righteous, pay a respect
to your inferior, and humbly stoop to tliose beneath
you." Thus far St. Bernard, who says again :
"Who is just, but he that is truly humble? For
when the Lord of all things would have humbly
stooped to his servant, and submitted to be bap
tized by the hands of St. John : seeing him awed by
the Majesty of his Person, Christ spoke thus to
him : "Suffer it to be so now, for thus it behooves
us to fulfil all righteousness.' — Matt. ii. Placing
the accomplishment of perfect justice in the perfec
tion of true humility. He therefore that is just, is
truly humble ; and this justice in the humble, is
plain in this : because, he gives to every one his
right ; he robs not another of his property, but
f;iv«--s honor to God and retains abjection for him
self." But this \\ill appear more plainly if you
will but consider the injustice of the proud and ar
rogant, who attribute every good gift of God to the
rewards of their own merit. In relation to which,
St. Bernard again says: "As evil may take its
source from the greatest good, when become
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 119
we make use of the divine gifts as if the> were not
such, without even making God an acknowledgment
for them ; so they who seem to have reached the high
est degree of grandeur and greatness, on account
of the divine benefits they have received, are in
truth excessively little, for want of returning thanks
due to their supreme benefactor.
" However, gentle reader, I have spared the weak
ness of your senses in the softening expressions of
great and little. Out of regard to the delicacy of
your ears, I have forborne calling things by the
real names I think they deserve. I should have
said, very wicked and very good. For it is beyond
all dispute, that they are so much the deeper in
wickedness, who ascribe to themselves the excellen
cies they may possess. Nothing, in short, can be
more criminal. But should any one say, be this
crime far from me, since I know it is the grace of
God that makes me what I am, and yet, at the same
time, studiously aim at self-praise for the grace
which he has received ; is not such a person a thief
and a robber ? Hear only what he is from the mouth
of truth itself : 'From thy own mouth will I judge
thee, O wicked servant.' — Luke xix. And what in
deed can be more execrably wicked than that servant
who usurps to himself the praises due to his Lord."
Thus far St. Bernard.
Hence you may see that the perfection of all right
eousness consists in true humility, which derogates
nothing from God's honor, nor attributes that to
itself, which is not its due; neither does it injure
our neighbor. For the truly humble is neither rash
in judging him, nor prefers himself to any one ;
but rather thinks himself inferior to all man
kind, and chooses the lowest place among them.
Hence St. Bernard again says: "How dost thou
120
THK LIFE OF OLJt
THE lift OF CHRIST
lf»p of
PALESTINE.
lo illunrmto.!VttI7
or nu
BIBLE A CHURCH HIS.TOR*
STOEJiS.
HAP OF PALESTINB.
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 121
know, O mortal, but that the very man whose flagi
tious life and infamous conduct you look upon with
horror and contempt, deeming him the greatest of
reprobates, and infinitely more sinful than yourself,
who live, or at least seem to yourself to live, a sober,
virtuous, or pious life : how dost thou know, I say,
but that very man may become not only better than
those or than yourself in his future practices, and
be even now, perhaps, dearer in the sight of God
than you 1 and therefore how do you know but it
may be contrary to the divine pleasure for us to place
him beneath ourselves, or to refuse him the first
honor among us? 'Choose thou,' saith Christ, 'the
lowest place, to wit, that you alone may be the
lowest of all, and not only not prefer yourself, but
even not presume to compare yourself to any.' " —
Thus saith St. Bernard. The virtue of humility is
again many ways reccommended to us by authentic
applauses of the same Saint. "A great mother in
deed is humility," saith he, "and a most sublime
virtue, which earns that for us which we are taught
not to aspire to, enabling us to attain to the knowl
edge we cannot learn, and to conceive of and from
the holy WOKD, sublime mysteries not to be ex
plained by words. And why so ? Not so much on
the account of merit, as of the divine pleasure of
the eternal Father of the WOKD, the Spouse of the
soul, our Lord Jesus Christ, who is God, blessed
above all things created." And again: "Humility
is a virtue, by which mankind, through a perfect
knowledge of his own unworthiness, becomes mean
in his own sight." And in another place: "The
virtue of humility alone can repair the crime of a
breach of charity : and indeed only that virtue is
unaccustomed to vain boasting, a stranger to pride,
and not given to contention. For he that is truly
122 THE LIFE OF OUR
humble argues not in judgment, nor dissembles any
justice." And farther, " Humility reconciles us to
God, and pleaseth him greatly when we possess it."
Again: "Humility has ever been a special virtue,
intimately annexed to the divine grace. For it is
ever customary with holy piety, for the sake of pre
serving humility, to require that the more we ad
vance in perfection, the less perfect we should think
ourselves. For even they, who are advancing to the
supreme degree of spirituality, retain still some
thing of the imperfections of the lowest, insomuch
as they cannot perceive themselves to have attained
even the verge of it.
4 ' A beautiful composition is humility and virginity.
Neither is that soul little pleasing in the sight of
God, in which humility is an ornament to virginity,
and virginity adorns humility. What praise is she
not worthy of in whom fertility exalts humility, and
a birth renders sacred virginity ? You have here
before you a lesson concerning both the virgin, and
the humble : And if you cannot imitate the virginity
of the one, imitate at least the humility of the other.
Virginity is a laudable virtue, but humility much
the more necessary : that is a council ; this, a pre
cept : to that you are invited ; to this you are
obliged. Of that, it is said : ' He that can take, let
him take.' — Matt. xix. But of this, ' Unless you
become as this little one, you shall not enter into the
kingdom of heaven.' — Ibid, xviii. That, therefore,
you are rewarded for ; and this, is expected from you.
Wherefore, you may be saved without virginity;
but without humility you cannot ; for where virgin
ity is lost, and has no more the power to please,
the tears shed for it by humility may effectually do
it. And without rashness, I may say, that the vir
ginity of the sacred Virgin herself would not have
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 123
been pleasing to God, without humility. For,
' Upon whom shall my spirit rest,' saith the Lord,
' but upon the humble and serene V Had not then
the holy Virgin been humble, the Holy Ghost would
not have rested upon her : and had not the divine
Spirit overshadowed her, undoubtedly she would
not have been pregnant. For how indeed, without
him, could she have conceived by him ? It is clear
then, that when she conceived by the Holy Ghost,
as herself witnesseth, the Lord regarded the humility
of his handmaid more than her virginity. Whence
it follows beyond dispute, that it is humility which
renders virginity acceptable. What reply can the
virgin vainly elated make to this ? Our blessed
Lady, having as it were, forgotten her virginity,
glories only in the abjection of her humility, and
you, neglecting this, vainly flatter yourself in the
possession of an unavailing virginity. ' He beheld,'
saith she, ' the humility of his handmaid.' She !
What she? Truly the holy, the pious, nnd the
devout Virgin. And are you more innocently pure,
more fervently devout than she? Or can you pre
sume to think that your chastity is greater or more
pleasing to God than hers ? Are you able to please
without humility when the Blessed Virgin could not?
The more honorable your condition is rendered by the
gift of chastity : by so much the more do you injure
yourself, as often as you soil that innocence of life,
with the mixture of pride. Charity, chastity, and
humility, have no beauty in themselves, but only
in proportion to the beauty they have in the sight
of God.
What is more beautiful than that chastity which
renders clean the being conceived from uncleanness,
changes enmity into friendship, and men into angels \
The angel and the chaste man differ indeed in point
124 TEE LIFE OF OUfi
of felicity, but not of virtue. For if the chastity of
the one be happier, that of the other is stronger.
It is chastity alone which in this mortal state, repre
sents a kind of immortality. That alone, which,
amidst the nuptial solemnities, imitates the method
of that blessed and heavenly region, where they
neither marry nor are married, giving us an imper
fect relish of the divine and heavenly conversation
there enjoyed among the blessed. This frail vessel
which here we carry with us, and in which we are in
danger, chastity sanctifies, not unlike the sweet
scented balsams wherewith dead bodies are embalmed
and preserved from corruption. It curbs the senses,
restrains the faculties of the body, and preserves the
whole man from the contamination and loose desires
attending idleness. But whatever beauty may ap
pear from the shining ornament of chastity, this,
however, is of no value or merit without charity.
Nor ought we to wonder at this. For what good
indeed can we receive without it ? Not faith, though
we should remove mountains. Not knowledge,
though it be that which speaks with the tongues of
angels. Not martyrdom, though by it I should
deliver up my body, saith St. Paul, to be burnt.
Neither without it can we receive any good, nor
with it can we reject any though the most minute.
Chastity without charity is like a lamp without oil.
Extract the oil, and the lamp will not burn. So
take away charity, and chastity will not please. In
a word, as chastity avails us nothing without charity,
so neither the one nor the other avail anything with
out humility, nor can they truly be called virtues.
For it is by humility that we deserve the possession
of them both, because to the humble God gives grace.
Humility preserves those virtues which we have al
ready acquired ; for the Spirit of God reposes only
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 125
upon the humble nncl peaceful ; it perfects that
virtue we are steady in, for virtue is perfected in in
firmity, that is, in humility. It conquers pride, that
implacable enemy to grace, that source of all iniquity,
and rids itself, as well as others, from its insolent
tyranny. That alone powerfully resists its malice,
and subdues its presumption, being a kind of bul
wark and asylum of virtue." Thus far, gentle
reader, have I given you many and beautiful com
mendations of humility from St. Bernard, that great
lover of truth and abjection. Endeavor likewise
to comprehend the sublime doctrines he gives re
lating to other virtues, and practice them ; but
now let us return to the baptism of our Lord.
When John beheld, then, that it was the will of
our Lord to be baptized by him, he readily submitted
and baptized him. And here, pious reader, cast an
eye towards him, and attentively behold, how the
Lord of Majesty humbly unclothes himself like a
mere mortal, and notwithstanding the coldness of
the season, descends thus into the frozen river.
Through the immense love he bore us he vouchsafed
thus to effect our salvation, by instituting the sacra
ment of baptism, to wash away the guilt of our
crimes. By this he truly espoused to himself not only
Ms whole church, but more especially, in a singular
and ineffable manner, the souls of the faithful.
For by the faith we promise him in our baptism, we
are truly wedded to our Lord Jesus, the holy pro
phet saying in his person : "I will espouse thee to
myself in faith." — Hosea ii. Wherefore is this most
solemn and ineffable mystery, a work of the greatest
service and benefit to mankind ? And therefore the
holy church triumphantly sings: "This day the
church is united to her heavenly spouse : because
Christ in the River Jordan washed away her crimes."
126 THE LIFE OF OUR
And in this most excellent work the three divine
persons of the most sacred Trinity, in a singular
manner, manifested themselves, and descended :
" For the Holy Ghost, as a dove, came and remained
upon him, and the voice of the Father was heard
saying : This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well
pleased." —Matt. iii. "In which place," saith St.
Bernard : "he said, Hear ye film" Wherefore,
saith the Saint: "Begin then now to speak, oh,
beloved Jesus, since you are now commissioned to
speak from your Father himself. How long, oh
divine virtue, and wisdom of God, how long, I say,
will you lie concealed amidst mankind, and appear
only invested with the infirmities of a mere mortal,
and insignificant man ? How long, O glorious King,
and King of heaven, will you suffer yourself to be
called the carpenter' s son, and even vouchsafe to
be thought so ? For the holy evangelist St. Luke
witnesseth, that ' He was still thought the son of
Joseph.' — Luke iii. Oh, humility of Christ ! how
greatly dost thou confound the excess of my vanity ;
I scarce know anything, and yet flatter myself to
know much, and never know when, or how to be
silent ; but without shame, being indiscreetly for
ward, and full of vain boasting, I am quick in talk
ing, ready in teaching, and slow in barkening to
others. But when Christ remained silent during so
long a space of time, and hid the treasures of his
divine wisdom from mankind, was it, think you,
because he feared the assaults of vainglory from
the empty praises of men. What had he to fear
from that who was the true glory of his Father?
He feared, however, but his fear wns not for himself,
but for us ; he was afraid for us, well knowing the
room there was for such fear. For us he was careful,
us h« instructed more by works than by words, and
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 127
what he afterwards taught us by word he proclaimed
by example : ' Learn of me because I am meek ancj
humble of heart,' — Matt. xi. We hear of very little
before concerning the infancy of Jesus Christ, and
now to the three-and- thirtieth year of his age, we
hear of nothing he either did or said. However, from
this time he can no longer remain concealed, being
thus publicly declared by his Father." Thus far
St. Bernard. And this is the authority which I
adduced in the foregoing chapter, from which you
may understand how our Lord Jesus humbly re
mained silent so long a space of time for our greater
spiritual instruction. And you cannot but observe,
in the whole series of what has been already said,
the true practice of a profound humility, concerning
which, I cannot speak to you but with pleasure, it
being a most sublime virtue, and what we stand
greatly in need of. And is with so much the more
study to be sought, and admired with so much the
greater affection, by how much the more our Lord
in every action of his life was remarkably solicitous
of practising it.
128
THE LIFE OF OUR
» B
*> *
*
LORD JEHUS CHRIST. 129
In chapter XVI, THE FAST AND TEMPTATIONS OF CHRIST— HE RE
TURNS TO HIS MOTHER — THE FOUR MEANS TO
ATTAIN TO A PERFECT PURITY OF HEART — THE
GREAT ADVANTAGES OF PRAYER — THE WISIST-
ANCE TO BE MADE TO GLUTTONY — WHY, AND
FOR WHOM GOD WORKS HIS MIRACLES.
OUR divine Lord Jesus, immediately after his
baptism, retired into the wilderness, to a cer
tain mountain, now known by the name of Quaran-
tain Peak, and there fasted forty whole days and
nights, associating, according to St. Mark, with the
brutes. Here, then, again contemplate your divine
Master : and endeavor to copy from this sublime
pattern the many excellent virtues he points out to
you in his own practice. To be solitary and retired
from the eyes of the world is his greatest ambition ;
a rigorous abstinence from food is his daily repast ;
prayer and almost uninterrupted watches are his
darling exercise ; short and interrupted slumbers,
on the hard, cold, bare ground, are his slender re
pose ; and the humble society of brute beasts is all
his company. Though the whole life of Christ will
appear to have been one continued series of pain
and corporal suffering, yet here it seems to be at
tended with the most afflicting circumstances ; and
therefore deserves a particular share of your compas
sion. Pity him, then, and let your pity excite in
you a zealous resolution of sharing his hardships,
by following the example he here sets you.
130 TUK Lll-'K OF OUR
things in this passage are principally to be remarked,
which are jointly and mutually conducive to the
spiritual exercise of every pious soul : to wit, re
tirement, fasting, prayer, and mortiti cation of the
flesh. And it is chiefly by these that we are to hope
to obtain that perfect purity of heart, which cannot
be too much coveted, as it includes the possession
of every virtue. For purity of heart contains
charity, humility, and patience : in a word, an as
semblage of every virtuous quality, and an absolute
alienation from vice and all its tendencies : because
the heart that gives admittance to any one vice, or
even suffers in itself the decay of any one virtue,
from that moment ceases to be pure. Hence, as we
are told in the conferences of the holy fathers of the
desert, the whole object of spiritual exercise is, and
should be, the acquisition of a perfect purity of
heart. For it is by this that every man is to render
himself worthy of the beatific vision, as our Lord
himself says in the gospel: "Blessed are the
clean of heart, for they shall see God." Where
fore St. Bernard says, "That he is the nearest to
God, whose heart is the most purified." The natural
consequence of which truth is, that to obtain an in
timate union with God, we must have a perfect
purity of heart.
Now, to obtain this, gentle reader, fervent and as
siduous prayer is of the greatest service, as I shall
hereafter show you. But what can avail the prayer
of one given to gluttony, drunkenness, lascivious-
ness, and sloth ? Nothing. No ; fasting and mor
tification of the flesh are absolutely requisite,
although prudence be necessary in the practice of
both, indiscretion being the bane of every good
action.
Neither does retirement seem of less utility. For,
LORD JB8US CHRIS! .
amidst noise and tumult, how can prayer be per
formed with that decency which is proper for it ?
And who is the mortal so free from danger that
dares give loose to his senses, particularly to seeing
and hearing much without offence to his purity or
innocence of heart ? " Death enters by the windows
of our eyes to our souls." And therefore, gentle
reader, follow our Lord to his retirement : that is,
separate yourself, after his example, from the com
merce of the world, and be as retired as your station
will permit, if you wish to be united to him, and to
enjoy that beatific vision which is the reward of in
ternal cleanness.
Fly the conversation of all, but more especially
of worldings ; fly the novelty of friendships, even
devout ones ; shut your eyes and ears to all vain
and transitory objects ; and fly, in particular, as the
most destructive poison to the soul, all that may in
the least disturb the peace of your mind and heart.
It was not without reason, that the fathers, for
their habitations, made choice of deserts, and places
remote from all correspondence with mankind, and
recommended to all their pupils to be blind, deaf,
and dumb to the conversation of the world. ' ' For, ' '
as St. Bernard says to this purpose, "if you are
desirous of becoming sensible of the sweet emotions
of the Holy Ghost ; if you have an effectual eager
ness to have your soul wedded to God, according
to the prophet, sit down solitary, and you have
raised yourself above yourself, by the bare desire
of espousing the Lord of angels. In reality, is it
not above your native meanness to adhere to God,
and to become one spirit with him ? Sit down,
therefore, amd be solitary as the dove: avoid the
crowds, and have no dealings you can avoid with
the rest of mankind : forget even your country and
j 32 THE LIFE OF O UK
the house of your father : and the King shall be
desirous of your beauty. Endeavor, then, oh, pious
soul, to be alone, that you may keep yourself wholly
to him, whom you have wholly chosen to yourself.
Retire from the public ; retire from your own family ;
retire from your most intimate friends, and even
from your necessary attendants. For know that
such is the reservedness of your divine Spouse, that
he will never indulge you with his company in the
presence of. others. Withdraw, then, but not so
much bodily as mentally. Withdraw, but let it be
in intention, in spirit, and with devotion. For
Christ your Lord, who is present with you, is so in
spirit, and the retirement he expects from you is
not so much that of the body as that of the spirit.
Though, indeed, it will not be useless for you to
retire personally sometimes, if convenience will per
mit ; especially at the time of prayer, as we shall
hereafter observe. You may truly be said to be re
tired and alone, if your thoughts are not employed
on trivial things, if you are not affected by what
passes in company, if you contemn what the world
prizes, if you are fatigued with what your worldly
companions hanker after, if you are insensible to
ill-usage, and unmindful of injuries : otherwise,
you cannot be truly deemed solitary, however per
sonally alone you may chance to be. You see, then,
that it is not impossible to be retired amidst a
crowd, or to be amidst a tumult, though alone in a
desert. Thus, then, however great be the number
of people you converse with, you may still be alone
if you will but refrain from curious searching into
their conversation, or rashly setting up for a judge
of it." Thus far St. Bernard. Hence it appears
how necessary solitude is, and how fruitless is that
of the body, if unaccompanied with that of the
LORD JK8US CHRIST.
133
mind. However, I must still observe, that corporal
retirement is of the greatest service, that the mind
may not lose its recollection by exterior objects.
Endeavor, therefore, with all due affection and dis
cretion, to imitate, as much as possible, your divine
Lord and Spouse, in the great and useful virtues of
solitude, prayer, fasting, and corporal mortification.
JESU8, THE BEC01TD ADAM, WITH THE WILD BEASTS OP THE
WILDERNESS.
Learn, likewise, from his associating with dumb
creatures, to behave yourself humbly towards all,
and to bear with meekness even such as appear to you
guilty of misdeeds. To this end, pay often a men
tal visit to our Lord in his retirement, and observe
his manner of conversing there. Every faithful
Christian ought to repeat this visit at least once a
day, from Twelfth Day to the end of his forty days'
134 TBS LIFE OF OUR
retreat : when, as the Scripture takes notice, he be
gan to be hungry. It was this opportunity Satan
laid hold of to approach Mm, and try to find out
if he was the Son of God, by tempting him to glut*
tony. " If," says he, " thou art the Son of God, bid
these stones be made bread." But this artifice
could not surprise the Master of all wisdom, who so
rejected it, as neither to be affected by the tempta
tion of hunger, nor leave the tempter room to discover
what he wished to know ; rebuking him with holy
scripture, without asserting or denying himself to
be the Son of God. Here let the example of Christ
teach you the duty of resisting the passion of glut
tony, which is the first victory we ought to begin
with, if we mean to gain a complete triumph over
sin. The man who is overcome by gluttony, is too
weak to cope with any other vice. For, as the com
mentator upon this passage in St. Matthew says, ''He
labors in vain to gain a proper dominion over his
vicious appetites, who remains a slave to his own
belly."
The devil, not discouraged by this defeat, took
our Saviour up to Jerusalem, our divine Lord suffer
ing himself to be carried about by the cruel serpent,
who thirsted after his precious blood, as well as
after that of his elect, and patiently enduring such
rough treatment to set us an example of meekness.
Attend, therefore, seriously to the lesson here set
you, and profit by it. When Satan had brought
our Saviour to Jerusalem, he carried him to the
pinnacle of the temple, there to tempt him to vanity;
desirous, as before, of discovering whether he was
the Son of God or not. But here again our Saviour
frustrated his intentions, contenting himself with
confounding the serpent by authority of scripture.
So that, according to St. Bernard, "Our Saviour's
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 135
not manifesting his divinity on these two occasions
was a sufficient argument with the infernal enemy
to conclude that he was mere man ; and therefore it
was, that he ventured a third time to try to shake
that steadiness which appeared to him to be purely
human." Accordingly, the fiend took him to a
high mountain, at a little distance from the above-
named peak, where, showing him the riches of the
world, he endeavored to seduce him to avarice ; but, to
his utter confusion, the destroyer was again disap
pointed and put to flight. See, then, and remember
what trials and temptations your divine Lord sub
mitted to, and cease to wonder that you should be
tempted also.
Yet think not, pious reader, that these were the
only trials he endured. They who reckon but three
temptations in the life of Christ must surely be igno
rant of scripture, which tells us that "the whole
life of man upon earth is one continued tempta
tion." — Job vii. And that he endured in the most
rigorous manner. For, as St. Paul says, he was
tempted in all, by similitude to us, though his temp
tations were but external ; and. without sin. When
he had gained the victory, the angels came and min
istered to him. Here be attentive, and devoutly
behold our Lord eating, surrounded by the angels
who attend him : and endeavor to be present to
everything that is here mentioned, the subject
being very beautiful, and equally devout.
Here it may be asked, what the angels ministered
to our Lord to eat after so long and so rigorous a
fast? This the scripture makes no mention of, and
therefore we may suppose this victorious banquet
to have consisted of anything of which our devo
tion shall inspire us with an idea. If indeed we
consider the greatness of his power, the question is
136 THE LIFE Oli' OUR
solved ; because, at pleasure, lie could have com
manded what he pleased out of all that was created ;
or might have created afresh whatever he desired.
But though he made use of his power in behalf of
the multitudes whom he fed twice with a small
number of loaves and fishes, yet we nowhere find
that he ever exerted it for his own or for his disci
ples' use. On the contrary, we read that in his pres
ence the disciples were reduced to pluck ears of corn
to relieve their hunger. So, likewise, when fatigued
with his journey, he sat at the well talking with the
Samaritan, it is not said that he created food, but
that he sent his disciples to fetch some from the
neighboring city. So that it is not likely that Christ
was fed in the desert by any miracle, for his miracles
were all wrought in public, and in the presence of
many. Yet there were none here present with him
but angels ; what, then, can we here find to meditate
on ? There were no dwellings here, nor victuals to
be found ready prepared : so that we may conceive
that the angels brought thither the food they found
elsewhere prepared. And why may we not believe
it to have been so, when the like happened to Daniel ?
For when the prophet Abacuc (Dan. xiv.) had pre
pared the pottage for his reapers, an angel of the
Lord took him by the hair of the head to Daniel,
from Judea to Babylon, that he might eat, and then
brought him back again. Let us then piously medi*
tate, and rejoice with our divine Lord at his vie.
torious dinner, and with the Blessed Virgin, who
bore a part in his joy, though distant from him.
For we may reasonably conjecture that the heavenly
host who came to pay their homages to our divine
Saviour after his victories over Satan, finding him
pressed with hunger, went in his name to the Blesse^
Virgin, his mother, and brought from her the neces
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 137
sary food of her own preparing, which they respect
fully laid before him to eat. And with what love,
honor, and devotion, may we not suppose they ad
ministered everything to him ; one presenting him
bread, another helping him to drink, another ob
sequiously tendering to him the fish, or other humble
provision his blessed mother had dressed for him ;
and all jointly entertaining him with heavenly music
and divine canticles. This done, our divine Lord
dismisses them to their celestial habitation, descends
from the mountain, and prepares to return to his
blessed mother to console her. And here, again,
behold the Lord of all things undertaking another
laborious journe}7 on foot ; and condole with him.
He came by the way of the Jordan, where John be
holding him advancing forwards, pointed him out
with his finger, crying out at the same time, "Be
hold the Lamb of God : behold him who takes away
the sins of the world." — John i. " It is he, it is he
himself, on whom I saw the Holy Ghost descending,
when I baptized him." And again, the next day,
seeing him walk by the side of the Jordan, he cried
out a second time, "Behold the Lamb of God."
Then Andrew, with another of John's disciples, went
after Jesus : and our divine Lord, anxious of their
salvation, to give them the greater confidence in him,
turned about to them, and asked, "Whom do you
seek?" To which they returned, "Where, Lord, is
your habitation?" He then took them with him to
the little house he had retired to in those parts ; and
they staid with him the whole day. After this, An
drew brought with him his brother Peter, whom
Jesus courteously received, knowing well what he
designed him to be. He then told him, that he
should afterwards be called Cephas or Peter ; and
thus they became acquainted, and in some measure
138 THB LIFS OP OUR
intimate. Afterwards, Jesus having a mind to go
into Galilee to his blessed mother, he left those parts,
and set out on his journey.
When he returned home, his holy parents were
transported with inexpressible joy : the sacred
virgin ran to embrace him, and receive him in her
tender and immaculate arms ; to whom, and to her
venerable spouse, the divine Jesus, reverently in
clining, returned his tender expressions of joy with
mutual tenderness, and remained with them, as he
used to do.
CHAPTER XVIL
CHRIST OPENS THE BOOK IN THE SYNAGOGUE.
THUS far, by the grace of God, we have regu
larly treated the passages of the life of Christ,
without omitting any, or at least very few circum
stances that may be supposed to have attended him :
but I do not design to continue the same hereafter,
for it would be too prolix to reduce into practical
meditations everything he said and did . Besides, it
ought to be our chief study, after the example of
St. Cecily, to bear in our breasts the circumstances
relating to him. Wherefore, for the future, I shall
only collect some of the principal facts to meditate
assiduously on, till we come to his Passion ; for there
nothing ought to be omitted. Neither ought we
elsewhere to omit anything wholly, or to neglect
meditating on it in a proper place and time. But I
do not intend to be so extensive in meditations hence
forward, unless occasionally. Let it suffice then, to
place before your eyes the bare facts and sayings, on
which you yourselves may at leisure piously and
OtU) JESUS CHRIST. 139
familiarly meditate. For in this seems to consist
the chief sweetness, efficacy, and fruit of these medi
tations ; that, always and everywhere, you contem
plate Christ in some one action or saying of his : as,
when he is with his disciples, when he is with sin
ners, when he talks or preaches to the multitude,
walking or sitting, sleeping or waking, eating or
ministering to others, healing the sick, or doing
other miracles. In these and such like circum
stances consider all his gestures ; but especially con
template his divine countenance, if you can bring
it to your imagination, which, however, appears
to me the most difficult part of meditation. When
you are thus contemplating the divine face of Christ,
consider whether he looks graciously upon you ;
your conscience will tell you whether you may hope
it or not. Let what has been said in this chapter
serve you to recur to, in whatever I may hereafter
relate, without adding any meditation to it. But
let us proceed to the remaining part of this blessed
life.
After our Lord Jesus returned from being bap
tized, he persisted in his accustomed humility ; be
ginning, however, by degrees, to manifest himself in
teaching and preaching in a private manner. For
he is not said to have taken on him the function of a
public preacher during the whole following year, that
is, not till the miracle he wrought at the marriage-
feast, which was on the day twelve-months after
he was baptized. And though he did sometimes
preach, and suffer his disciples to baptize, yet, still
after the imprisonment of the Baptist, he did not
either by himself, or his disciples, wholly apply to
preaching, especially in public. Even in this, giving
us a lesson of surprising humility, by paying such a
respect to John, who was so greatly inferior to him
140 THE LIFfi OF
in preaching, as well as in everything else. He did
not begin his mission with noise and ostentation,
but humbly and gradually.
One day, therefore, being with the rest of the Jews
in the synagogue, he stood up, and read in the book
of Isaiah, the following words: "The spirit of the
Lord is upon me, wherefore he has anointed me,
he has sent me to evangelize to the poor." — Isaiah
Ixi. Then folding the book, he said, "This Scrip
ture is this day fulfilled, in your ears. ' ' Behold him
then, here humbly taking upon him the office of a
lecturer to them, and reading before them, with an
affable and serene countenance: thus he lays the
Scripture open to their understandings, and begins
humbly to manifest himself in those words, "This
Scripture is this day fulfilled ;" that is, in other
words, "I am he, who is here spoken of." While
he was speaking, the whole astonished multitude
dwelt on the modesty and beauty of his heavenly
aspect, which added efficacy to the divine words he
spoke ; for he was exceedingly beautiful, and inex
pressibly eloquent. Of both which the prophet
thus sung: "Beautiful of form above the children
of men; grace is diffused in thy lips." — Ps. xliv.
LORD JESUS CHRIST
141
LRVI IS CALLED TO BE A DISCIPLE, FROM THE RECEIPT OY CUSTOM
CHAPTER XVIII.
HE CALLS HIS DISCIPLES.
AND now our Lord Jesus began to call his dis
ciples, and to solicit the salvation of our race ;
still preserving untouched his former humility.
Peter and Andrew were the first he called ; and these
he called three times. The first time of his calling
them was, as above, near fhe river Jordan, where
they first became a little acquainted with him. —
Jo fin i. The second was from the ship, when they
had been catching fish, as St. Luke relates. —Lukev.
142 2^£ LIFE OF OUR
Then they followed him only with a design of
returning home ; but then they heard some part of
his doctrine. The third was likewise from the ship,
when, according to St. Mark, he said to them,
44 Come after me, I will make you lishers of men." —
Mark i. ''Then, leaving their nets, they followed
him. • — Ibid. So likewise he called James and John,
at the same places, the two last times ; and what
relates to them is contained in the same places
where Peter and Andrew are treated of. He called
also St. John at the marriage- feast, as St. Jerome
says, though it is not mentioned in Scripture. He
called St. Philip, saying, "follow me." — John i.
And so he did Matthew. — Matt. ix. As to his man
ner of calling the rest, it is nowhere written. Con
sider here, then, and behold him in the before-men
tioned vocations, and in his conversation with them ;
with what affection he calls them, rendering himself
affable, familiar, and sociable with them ; attract
ing them inwardly and outwardly, bringing them
to his mother's, and frequently condescending to
go with them to their houses. He taught them, in
structed them, and was equally careful of them as
a mother is of an only son. It is said as a tradi
tion from St. Peter's verbal account that whenever
he slept at the same place with them, if, rising in
the nierht to pray according to his custom, he found
any of them slightly covered, he would graciously
take the pains to wrap them up warm, having an
extraordinary tenderness for them. For though
they were but men of mean extraction and condi
tion, yet he knew what he had designed them for,
and that they were to be the princes of the world,
and the appointed leaders of nil his faithful in the
spiritual war to be waged against Satan. And here.
for God's sake, consider from wjiat small beginnings
LORD JESUS CUIil ST.
the Church took its rise. The Lord would not
make choice of the wise and powerful of this world,
lest the wonders he was about to perform should be
ascribed to their abilities : but reserving these prodi
gies to himself, redeemed us out of the abundance
of his own goodness, power, and wisdom.
WORKS Bit FIRST MIRACLE AT THE HKQUEST OS
CHAPTER XIX.
THB CONVERSION OF WATER INTO WINE AT THE
MARRIAGE-FEAST.
A LTHOUGH it is uncertain whose marriage this
<L\- was. that was celebrated at Cana of Galilee, as
ecclesiastical history notices, we may, i'or meditation
144 THE LIFE OF OUR
sake, suppose it to be that of St. John the Evangel
ist, which St. Jerome seems to affirm in his preface
upon St. John. Our blessed Lady was there present,
not as a stranger invited thither, but as the head and
principal lady of the feast, and the chief manager of
it ; so that she was as it were at home, being in the
house of her sister, whose elder she was. This may
be gathered, first, from the text, which tells us that
the mother of Jesus was there, but that Jesus and
his disciples were invited thither : which ought to be
understood likewise of all the rest of the persons
present. So that when Mary Salome, the wife of
Zebedee, came to her to Nazareth to tell that she
designed to marry her son John, our blessed Lady
went back with her to Cana some days before the
appointed time of the feast, to make preparations for
it, insomuch, that when the guests werfc invited to
it she was actually there. Secondly, it may be gath
ered from her taking notice of the want of wine ; by
which she appears not so much to be a guest, as con
cerned in the distribution of the entertainment, and
therefore perceived the wine to be deficient. For if
she had been sitting there as a guest, is it not likely
the modest Virgin would have sat by her Son,
amidst the men ? And if she had, would she have
risen up among them to complain of the want of
wine? Or even had she been seated among the
women, had she, think you, been more sensible of
the wants of wine than any other of her sex there
present ? Or would she have risen from her seat
to acquaint her Son with it ? For we cannot sup
pose, that she called out aloud. All this seems un
likely ; and therefore we may with more probability
suppose, that she was present there, not merely as
a guest, but rather as one who served and ministered
as before- mentioned, for it is said of her, that she
LORD JEkUS L-111U8T. 145
was ever ready and officious in helping and serving
others.
The third is, that she commanded the servants to go
to her Son, and to do whatever else she appointed them:
by which it is plain, that she had a superiority over
them, and that the feast was ordered and disposed
according to her management ; and therefore she was
solicitous, lest any thing necessary should be wanting.
Hence then, according to this manner, consider
our Lord Jesus at this feast, eating with the rest of
the company, seated not at the head of the guests,
nor amongst the chief of those who were invited, but
in the lowest place, and among the poorest and
meanest, as we may gather from his own words:
" When thou art invited to a feast, sit down in the
lowest place." — Luke xiv. Wherefore, as it was
ever his custom to teach first by example, what he
afterwards taught by words, it is most likely, that
he took not the first and chief place at this feast,
after the manner of the proud and vain : but rather,
that he chose to sit in the lowest seat, among the
more simple and the meaner sort of company.
Contemplate here, likewise, our blessed Lady —
how obsequious and cheerful she is, and diligently
careful that all things might be performed with
great exactness and decency : submissively helping
the servants, and showing them how, and of what
things they should serve and minister to those who
were invited. And when the feast was almost to
wards the end, they came to her and said : " There
is no more wine left to set before them." To whom
she answered : "Wait a short time, and I will pro
cure that you may have more." And presently
departing, she went to her Son Jesus, who sat hum
bly at the lower end of the table, and said to him i
' ' My Son, they have no more wine, and this, our
146 THE LIFE OF OUR
sister, being poor, I know not Low we shall supply
this want." But Jesus answered and said : " Woman,
what is this to me and thee?" This answer could
not but seem severe to the holy Virgin. But as Si.
Bernard remarks, "those words were full of mys
tery, and were given for our greater instruction."
Wherefore, the saint, in this place, speaks lo
this effect: "Do you ask, O Lord, what is this to
thee and to her ? Is it nothing to the mother and
her Son? Do you ask what it appertains to her,
when thou thyself art the blessed fruit of her vir
ginal womb ? Is she not the same who conceived
without prejudice to her virginity, and brought
forth without offence to her modesty ? Is it not
she, in whose womb you vouchsafed to be enclosed
the space of nine months, whose sacred breasts
gave you suck, and with whom, at the age of twelve
years, you came back from Jerusalem, and was obe
dient to her? Why then, most beloved Jesus, do
you now perplex and grieve her tender soul, saying :
' What is it to me and to thee, O woman V I already
comprehend that it was not to reproach her, or to
confound the great modesty of your virgin mother,
which made you say : * Woman, what is that to me
and to thee ?' For when the servants came to you
by her orders, you did without hesitation what she
suggested.
"Why then, gentle reader, did he first here make
her this answer ? Truly for no other reason than
for our instruction, and to teach us that they, who
having forsaken the world by a thorough conversion
to Almighty God, should have no longer a tie to
their carnal friends, relations or parents ; and that
an over solicitude for the supptying of their neces
sities should not deter them from the daily study
and practice of those spiritual exercises belonging
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 147
to their state aiid calling. For though as long as we
are of the world, there is a duty incumbent upon
us to take care of our parents ; yet, when we have
once forsaken it, so far as even to forsake <~>urselves
with it, we ought upon a much stronger motive to
relinquish all temporal care and solicitude for them.
To which purpose, it is written of a certain holy
monk or hermit, who having quitted the world, and
lived a long time a solitary and retired life in the
desert, being one day earnestly entreated by his own
brother for his advice in some worldly and temporal
affair, he calmly desired him to consult another of
their brethren who had been dead long before ; to
whom, when the brother replied, with much sur
prise at his advice, that his other brother was dead ;
so am I, answered the monk, also dead to this world,
and therefore have nothing to do in it, or with ita
troublesome affairs. This is what our Lord Jesus
meant when he answered his blessed mother, saying :
'Woman, what is that to me and to thee f Clearly
teaching us not to be careful or solicitous for our
friends and relations, or even parents themselves,
in those things which are contrary to, or inconsist
ent with the rules religion prescribes to us. This
he also confirmed in another place, when, being
told by one of the by-standers, that his mother and
brethren waited without desiring to speak to him,
he said, ' Who is my mother, and who are my breth
ren?' "—Matt. xii. Thus far St. Bernard.
But to return to our subject : The Blessed Virgin
was not in the least dismayed or dejected at this
unexpected answer of her beloved Son : but full of
confidence in his great bounty and goodness, she
presently returned to them, and said: "Goto my
Son, and whatever he shall say to you, do ye." —
John ii. They went as she had ordered them : and
148 THE LIFE OF OUR
having filled the stone waterpots, which stood there,
with water, as our Lord had commanded, he again
said to them, "Draw now, and carry to the chiel
steward." Here, first, we may consider, the great
prudence and wisdom of our Lord Jesus, in sending
the wine first to the chief and most dignified person
at the feast. Secondly, we may likewise consider,
that our Lord sat not near him, but far below him,
when he said : " Take it to the master of the feast."
Whereby it appears, that he held the first place
among the invited, and our Lord Jesus the lowest.
The servants, however, gave the wine to the chief
steward, and to the rest of the company, who openly
declared the manner how it was made, they being
eye-witnesses of the miracle ; and his disciples then
believed in him. When the feast was ended, Jesus
took John apart by himself, and said unto him,
"Leave this woman whom thou hast chosen for thy
wife, and follow me, and I will lead thee to a far
more sublime union and heavenly marriage than
this." Hereupon he immediately left his wife,
and followed Christ, and became his disciple. And
here we may learn many profitable things for our
instruction and example. The first is, that our Lord,
sanctifying by his presence this marriage, gave us to
understand that matrimony is both a lawful and
honorable state, and ordained by God himself.
And in calling St. John from the same, he shows
the spiritual marriage and union of the soul with
God in a single life and a state of virginity, to be
much more excellent and perfect.
After our Lord Jesus had wrought this miracle, he
departed thence, and resolved now to attend to those
things only which regarded the salvation of man ;
and therefore determined thenceforward to preach
his heavenly doctrine openly to all mankind. He
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 149
would first, however, conduct his holy mother safely
home to her little habitation. Wherefore, taking
her by the hand, and being followed by St. John,
and the rest of his disciples, they went into Caphar-
naum, which is near Nazareth ; and after some
few days, they from thence reached Nazareth. Con
template here, devout reader, this blessed couple,
the mother a-^d the Son. Consider them humbly
travelling on foot ; and though wearied with the
fatigues of their journey, yet united by the strictest
ties of love to each other. O what a heavenly
couple ! Such the world was never before blessed
with. Consider likewise his disciples who reverently
follow them, and attentively listen to the sacred
doctrine which proceeds from the mouth of their
divine master; who was never idle, but was ever
instructing them in such things as might redound
to their welfare. Wherefore we way piously im
agine, that the abundance of heavenly consolation,
which they reaped from g**ch sacred conversation,
greatly allayed the toils f£ tireir .fatiguing journey.
160
THE LIFE OF OUR
a
LORD JESUS ( -WIST.
In chapter XX, THE SERMON OF THE LOUD OX THE MOUNT, WHICH
HE BEGINS BY POVERTY.
OUR Lord calling his disciples apart from the
crowd, ascended with them to mount Tabor,
about two miles distant from Nazareth, to infuse
into them his divine doctrine. For it was fit to in
struct them first, who were to be appointed masters
and leaders of the rest. He taught them many things
in that place in a most beautiful and ample sermon :
and no wonder a sermon should be such, which was
delivered by the mouth of the Lord. He taught
them the beatitudes, the dignity of prayer, fasting,
alms-deeds, and many truths relating to every other
virtue, as appears in the holy gospel. Which I ad
vise you, gentle reader, to peruse seriously and fre
quently, and to endeavor to enrich your memory
with such lessons of spiritual sublimity ; but which
would require too great a prolixity to consider here ;
neither is it proper to crowd meditations like these
with too many expositions of scripture. However,
I shall not entirely drop them, but here and there
intersperse some 'few, and add to them some moral re
flections of my own, or of the holy fathers, as oc
casion, and your instruction may require. Let it at
present suffice to observe, that our Lord began this
his exhortation with poverty ; giving us thereby to
understand, that poverty is the first foundation of
all spiritual structures. Hence, nothing can be more
inconsistent than for Christ, the pattern of poverty,
152 THE LIFE OF OUR
to be followed by persons loaded with temporal
riches ; since they, 'whose affections are linked to
such fleeting vanities, are more properly in a state
of slavery than freedom. And they only are quali
fied for being happy, whose hearts are at liberty.
Therefore it was that Christ told them, " Blessed are
the poor in spirit, etc." For no heart is free, but
that which is linked to God : and they only are so,
whose affections tend only to him. We render our
selves subject to whatever we affectionately love ; and
therefore we ought to love nothing but him, because
subjection to him is the only true liberty. The truly
poor, therefore, may justly be called blessed, who,
for God's sake, contemns all things else. For, by
this means, he becomes, in a great measure, united
to God. Of this great virtue St. Bernard says:
"Poverty is a noble kind of wings that elevate us
in a moment to the kingdom of heaven. The other
virtues flowing from this, obtain us only a promise
of it ; but to poverty, felicity is rather given than
promised : wherefore, our Saviour speaks in the pres
ent tense, 'for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.' '
— Matt. xii. And a little farther, he adds: "We
see some poor persons sorrowful and pusillanimous,
who would be quite otherwise, were their poverty
such as we are speaking of ; for then they would
consider themselves as princes, and possessors of a
heavenly kingdom. But, alas, the generality of
mankind would be poor, upon condition of wanting
nothing, and love no other poverty than such a one
as is attended with no inconvenience." And else
where : ' * And I, ' ' says he, ' ' when once I am exalted
above the earth, may boldly affirm, that I will draw
all things after me ; for if once I put on the likeness
of my brother, I may, without rashness, adopt his
3peech ; let not then the rich of this world imagine,
LORD JESUS CHRIST. If 3
that the brethren of Christ possess nothing but
heavenly things, because they hear him say, ' Blessed
are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of
heaven.' No ; for they are likewise in possession
01 the earth ; having nothing, yet possessing all
things ; not begging like paupers, but receiving as
masters; so much the more truly masteis of all, as
they covet nothing. In a word, the whole world, to
the faithful lover of poverty, is a fund of riches ;
because prosperity and adversity are alike sub
servient and beneficial to him. The covetous world
ling yearns after earthly things like a beggar ; the
faithful lover of poverty despises them like a prince.
"Ask any one of those who with insatiable eager
ness pursue worldly gain, what they think of them
who, selling what they have to distribute the price
of it to the poor, purchase the kingdom of heaven
with earthly substance ; and whether he looks upon
them to act- prudently or not? He will, doubtless,
approve their wisdom. Ask him again, why he
neglects to do himself what he deems weM done by
others ? He will answer, I cannot do it. But why ?
Truly because tyrannizing avarice will not permit
him ; because he is not free ; because he has neither
right to, nor possession of what he seems to enjoy.
If they are thine, put them out to interest, purchase
with them a solid estate, and with an earthly fund
buy an eternal heavenly one. If you are not lord
enough of them to have this in your power, I shafl
deem you not master, but slave to them ; the stew
ard, not the possessor." Thus far St. Bernard.
Now let us return to our meditation. Consider,
then, our Lord Jesus humbly sitting on the ground,
with his disciples around him. How affably does
he converse with them, as if one of themselves :
teaching, and in a beautiful, benign, and pathetic
154 TUE LIFE OF OUR
manner, inculcating to them the practice of the
above-mentioned virtues. And ever study, as I have
before advised you, to contemplate his divine coun
tenance. Cast an attentive eye likewise on his dis
ciples, and imagine you see with what reverence,
humility, and fixed attention they observe his blessed
aspect, hear his wonderful discourse, and imprint
it in their minds: reaping sovereign delight from
his words and heavenly looks. In this meditation,
endeavor to share their delight with them : attentive,
as if you beheld him speaking ; and ready to ap
proach with them, in case you should be called ;
dwelling on this pious subject, according to the
lights and graces which it shall please God to bestow
on you.
After the sermon is over, behold our Lord Jesus
descending from the mount with his disciples, and
familiarly conversing with them upon the road ;
and observe how that little simple congregation
follow him, not in any formal order, but as the hen
is followed by her chickens; each crowding about
him, and struggling to get near him, the better to hear
his divine discourse. Think you see the multitude
running to meet him, and bringing their sick to be
cured by him ; for he cured alL
L01W JtitiUS CHRIST
165
CBNTUKION ENTREATS JEBU8 TO HEAL HIS SERVANT.
In chapter XXI, THE SERVANT OF THE CENTURION, AND THE SON OF
THE PRINCE CURED.
AT Capharnaum, a certain centurion, that is, a
captain of a company composed of a hundred
men, had a servant who lay sick. Full of faith,
therefore, he sent to our Lord Jesus Christ to entreat
him to cure him : and our humble Lord answered,
"I will come and cure him." — Luke. vii. When
156 THE LIFE OF OUR
the centurion heard the answer, he Immediately
sent back to him this message: "Lord, I am not
worthy thou shouldst enter under my roof : say but
the word, and my servant shall be healed." Upon
which, Jesus, applauding his faith, cured the ser
vant at a distance. In the same city lived a prince
or petty king, who went in person to Jesus, beseech
ing him to come to his house and cure his s'ck son.
But Jesus refused to go, though he acr^iiesced to
cure the youth. Here consider the merit of faith
in the centurion, and this fresh instance of humility
in oar Saviour, who offered himself to go to the
servant, though he refused to go to the pompous
prince. Here you see that no exception ought to
be made to persons. "Our Lord shows more re
gard to the servant of the officer, than to the son of
the king." — JoJin iv. Thus then it little becomes
us to show any regard in our charitable offices to
external pomp and appearance ; it is the goodness,
the right intention, and necessity of the porson,
which are to draw our attention. In a word> our
services to our neighbor are to be guided, not by
complaisance, but by Christian charity.
LORD JESUS I'll LIST.
167
THE SICK OF THE PALSY IS LET DOWN THROUGH THE ROOP.
In chapter XXII, THE PARALYTIC BROUGHT IN TO OUR LORD BY THIS
HOUSE-TOP AND CURED.
IN the same city of Capharnaum, while our Lord
Jesus was teaching in a certain house where
Pharisees and doctors of the law, from all parts of
Judea and Jerusalem, were assembled to hear him,
153 27-/A' LIFE Of OUR
some people came thither, and struggled to get in,
with a man ill of the palsy, whom they had brought
on purpose to have him cured by our Saviour.—1
Matt, ii., Luke v. But finding it impossible to get
in at the door, on account of the great crowd, they
got upon the top of the house, and carried him in
that way and placed him before Christ. Jesus
then, seeing their great faith, said to the paralytic:
"Thy sins are forgiven thee." — Mark ix. The
Pharisees and doctors, looking maliciously on, said
to each other, that he had blasphemed, since he
attributed to himself, whom they considered as
mere man, the power of forgiving sins, which be
longed only to God. Our benign and humble Lord,
searcher of the hearts and reins of man, answered,
"Why do you think evil in your hearts? That
you may know," added he, "that the Son of Man
has power on earth to forgive sins, I say, arise and
walk." — Mark ix.
Here are four things worthy of our meditation.
First, perspicuity of Christ's understanding, who
saw into their hearts. Secondly, that illness is
often the consequence of sin, and that absolution
from this often frees us from that ; which may like
wise be gathered from the sick man cured at the
fish-pond, whom our Saviour cautioned not to sin
again, lest something worse should befall him.
Thirdly, that great must be the merit of faith, since
the faith of one person may be beneficial to another :
as we have before observed in the case of the cen
turion's servant, and shall farther see, in the daugh
ter of the Cananean, who was cured by the faith of
the mother. And it is daily verified in the baptism
of infants, who, if they die before the age of dis
cretion, receive, by the faith of others, the earnest
by which they are saved through the merits of
LORD JS8U8 CHRIST. 159
Christ, contrary to the accursed doctrine of some
heretics. Fourthly, we may meditate on the good
ness of our divine Lord sitting amidst the perverse
Pharisees, affably confounding their malice, and
working a miracle to try to convert them. Here re
collect what I have said on the general subject of
meditation.
CHAPTER XXIII.
OUR LORD CURES SIMON'S MOTHER-IN-LAW.
IN the same city it happened likewise that our
Lord called in at the house of Simon-Peter,
whose mother-in-law was in a high fever. Our
humble Lord, informed of it, familiarly stretched
forth his sacred hand to her ; and she immediately
arose, and ministered to him and his disciples.
But what did she minister ? We do not find that
recorded. You may then devoutly imagine, that
in the house of such poor people nothing but poor
and humble viands, such as were soon prepared,
were laid before them. Piously fancy too, that you
see our Lord himself humbly helping to set things
in decent order, in the house of his disciples : these,
and such other humble exercises, you may enter
tain your thoughts with ; for all such, we may reason
ably conceive our Lord to have done, who was come
to minister, and not to be ministered unto. Thus
then consider him familiarly seated at table, under
this humble roof, in the midst of this little com
pany of simple ones, and cheerfully partaking of
their coarse food, with so much the more pleasure
as his beloved poverty presided there.
160
LIFE OF OUR
VIEW OF THE VILLAGE AND LAKE OF TIBERIAS FROM THE SITE OS.
THE ANCIENT CITY.
CHAPTER XXIV.
OTTR LORD SLEEPS IN THE BOAT.
OUR Lord Jesus entering into a boat with his
disciples, composed himself to sleep, laying
his head on a pillow ; for he might well be fatigued,
as he passed his nights generally in prayer, and his
days in the toil of preaching. When he was asleep,
a sudden storm arising, the disciples were affrighted,,
and apprehended themselves in danger of perishing,
but dared not awake him for some time. Atlengt^
however, overcome with fear, they roused him, crj/*
ing, " Lord, save us, we perish." Our Lord aroso,
and, chiding them for their little faith, "com
manded the sea and the winds, and the storm gav&
over." — Matt, vii., Mark iv., Luke viii. In these
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 161
circumstances contemplate our Lord, according to
the general rules I have before given you. Add
this farther consideration, that though God seems
sometimes to sleep to us, and to our concerns, es
pecially in time of tribulation and need, yet we
ought to remain firm in faith and confidence, with
out staggering; for he is ever really awake, and
diligently watchful in what regards our good and
safety.
In chapter XXV, THE WIDOW'S SON RAISED BY OUR LORD.
AS our Lord was once going towards the city of
Nairn, he met a multitude of people bearing to
the grave the corpse of a young man, the late son
of a widow, who followed. The compassionate
Jesus, moved to pity at her grief, approached,
stopped the bearers, and made them set down the
bier: then addressing himself to the corpse, said,
"Young man, I say to you, arise." And the youth,
who had been dead, arose, and he restored him to
his mother ; at which all were astonished, and gave
praises to God for so great a wonder. — Luke vii.
Here recur to the general heads of meditation.
CHAPTER XXVI.
OUR LORD RAISES A GIRL FROM THE DEAD, AND
CURES MARTHA.
AT the instance of a very considerable man, our
Lord Jesus was going with him to cure his
daughter. A great multitude accompanied him,
among whom was a woman extremely ill, who is re
162 THE LIFE OF OUR
ported to have been Martha, the sister of Mary
Magdalen. This woman, acquainted with the won
ders he had wrought, said to herself, that if she
could but touch the hem of his garment, she should
be made well. Accordingly approaching, though
with fear, she touched it, and was cured. Our Lord
then said, " Who has touched me ?'' When Peter
answered, "Lord, you see what crowds press upon
and molest you, and you ask, Who has touched me ?n
— Matt. ix. Here consider the patience of Christ,
who suffers himself to be thus frequently molested
and pressed by the rude populace. However, our
Lord well knew what he said, and therefore added,
" I know that a virtue proceeded from me." — Luke
vii. Martha then manifested her cure, and our Lord
was pleased with curing her, with whom he was
afterwards divinely intimate, and told her, "Thy
faith hath made thee whole." Here again you have
a fresh commendation of faith : here likewise you
see that Christ is willing that his miracles should be
made manifest for the good of the public, and yet is
so humble as to conceal the part he has in them, at
tributing to the merit of her faith the effects of his
own divine power.
Here too it is worth your notice to observe what
St. Bernard remarks: ''Every perfect servant of
Christ," says he, "may be called the hem or low
est part of Christ's garment, on account of the mean
opinion he has of himself," Let them, therefore,
who arrive to this pitch of perfection, perceive that
God hears their prayers, and grants them the care
of diseases, or other miraculous powers, take care
not to be elated, nor attribute to themselves what
is properly his work, and not theirs. For though
Martha touched the hem with hopes of being cured
by the touch, as she really was, yet the virtue of
L'JllD JESUS CIIRIST. 163
the cure came from the Lord, and not from the hem :
and therefore he said, " I know that a virtue pro
ceeded from me." Mind this well, and never at
tribute any good to yourself, for it all comes from
our Lord Jesus.
Our Saviour after this went to the house of the
great man above mentioned, and finding that the girl,
whom he came to cure, was dead, he raised her again
to life. Here again recur to the general heads of
contemplation I have already proposed to you, and
so often mentioned.
In chapter XXVII, THE CONVERSION OF MAGDALEN, AND OTHER THINGS.
OUR gracious Lord, one day, by the invitation
of Simon the Pharisee, went to dine with him,
which he was accustomed to do, out of his natural
courtesy, and the zeal he had for the salvation of
souls. — Luke vii. Thus the divine Jesus attracted
to himself those for whose sakes he came down
from heaven, by eating, and familiarly conversing
among them. The love of poverty, too, was another
motive that induced him to do so. For he was ex
tremely poor, and had received nothing of earthly
substance for himself, or those that belonged to
him. And therefore this pattern of humility readily
and cheerfully accepted of their invitations as oc
casion required.
Magdalen, who probably had often heard him
preach, and inwardly loved him, though she had
yet given no proofs of it, chanced to hear of our
Saviour's dining at the house of this Pharisee.
Wherefore, touched already with a real sorrow at
164 THE LIFE OF OUR
heart for her sins, convinced that he alone could rid
her of them, and resolved no longer to delay her
conversion, she went immediately to where our
Saviour was ; and with her eyes and face towards
the ground, she passed by the whole company, re
gardless of all, till she came to her beloved Lord.
Then throwing herself prostrate before him, with a
certain secret confidence which her inward love for
him gave her, with a torrent of tears she began to
bathe his sacred feet, sighing, and tacitly saying in
her heart, "Lord, I firmly believe, know, and con
fess you to be my God, and my sovereign ; I have
offended your divine majesty by many and great
transgressions, and have multiplied my sins above
the number of the sands of the sea. But, wicked
sinner as I am, I fly to your mercy for refuge. I
grieve and repent me from my soul, T crave pardon,
am prepared to amend, and determined to conform
my life for the future to your blessed precepts, with
out ever departing from them. Oh ! reject me not ;
turn me not away from you ; I am sensible I can
have recourse to none but you, and you alone I love
above all things. Repulse me not, then, but punish
my iniquities as you shall think proper; but yet
grant me the mercy I sue for." All this while she
kept bathing the blessed feet of Jesus with the
plenteous flood of her unbidden tears. Hence you
may plainly see that our Lord went always bare
footed.
At length, the illustrious penitent, with becoming
resolution, stopped her tears awhile ; and, judging
them unworthy to fall on our Lord's sacred feet,
she wiped them off with her beautiful hair, which
she used on this occasion, because she had nothing
more precious with her for that purpose, and because
she wished to make those very instruments of her
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 1C5
former vanity instrumental to her present con
version ; besides tliat, she wished not to remove her
face off the feet of her divine master. When she
had wiped them dry, she devoutly pressed them
with her lips, with fervent eagerness that spoke her
glowing love, and afterwards anointed them with
precious ointments, as they were fatigued with fre
quent and laborious travelling. Behold her then
attentively, consider maturely her devotion, and
dwell awhile on her love to Christ, and his love to
her • and endeavor to be perfectly present at this
entertainment, which was very solemn in every cir
cumstance. Contemplate likewise the divine Jesus,
how benignly he receives, and how patiently he
bears with all she does. He suspends his dinner
till she has done weeping and anointing his feet ;
and all the guests are in suspense at the novelty.
Simon could not help judging our Lord in his mind ;
thinking he would not have suffered such a woman to
approach him if he had been a prophet, and had
known who she was. But our Lord soon showed his
prophetic power, by answering Simon's thoughts
with a parable of the debtor. And openly to show
that love is the great end of all, concluded by say
ing, "Many sins are forgiven her, because she has
much loved." — Luke vii. And then turning to her
said, "Go, in peace." O delightful and pleasing
sentence ! How gladly did Magdalen hear it, and
how joyfully retire ! And now truly converted, she
led ever after an innocent, holy life ; and firmly ad
hered to the service and honor of him and his
blessed mother. Contemplate, therefore, gentle
reader, these circumstances with all the devotion you
can summon, and labor to imitate this charity,
which is so highly approved by our Lord Jesus, as
well by acts as words.
166 THE 'LfFE OF OUR
Here then you have an express proof that charity
works a perfect peace and reconciliation between
God and sinners. Hence it is that St. Peter tells us,
that "Charity covers a multitude of sins." — 1 Peter
iv. As charity then is the soul of every virtue, and
none are pleasing to God that are not inflamed with
charity, I shall quote some authorities to induce
you to aim at the acquisition of this great virtue, in
order to render yourself acceptable to the blessed
Jesus.
St. Bernard, then, says of it: "This excellent
gift, charity, must needs be of incomparable worth,
since the divine spouse is so earnest in enforcing it
to his new bride. In one place, saying, ' In this
all shall know you are my Disciples, if you have
love for one another.' — John xiii. In another, 'I
give you a new precept, that yon love one another.' —
Ibid. And again, 'This is my commandment, that
you love one another.' — Ibid. xv. Praying else
where, that they become one, as he and the Father
are one." A little lower the saint adds : " What can
we imagine comparable to this, which is preferred
even to martyrdom, and to a faith sufficient to move
mountains ? Thus then when I say to you ' Peace
be with you,* — John xx. — I mean, may your peace
proceed to you from within yourselves, and then all
that may seem to threaten you with disturbance
from without, will neither have power to fright nor
offend you."
The same saint tells us : " The value of every soul
is rated by the measure of its charity : as for ex
ample, the soul that has much charity is great and
vast ; that which has but little, is small and diminu
tive, nay nothing ; for, as the Apostle in his first
epistle to the Corinthians, chap, v., tells us, 'If 1
have not charity, I am nothing.' However, if it be-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 167
gins to possess even so slender a portion, as to love
where it is beloved, to salute brethren and those who
salute, we cannot say that soul is absolutely nothing.
I will allow a soul to be not quite nothing, if at least
it returns love for love, and cultivates social charity.
And yet, according to our Lord's \vords, 'how
much more than nothing does it do V I cannot then,
by any means, think a soul great, but rather very
little and very contracted, when I discover so slender
a portion of charity in it : but if it grows up and im
proves so, passing the narrow limits of so contracted
a charity, to reach with liberty of spirit the utmost
bounds of gratuitous bounty, by extending itself
with profuseness of good- will to every neighbor, and
by loving all as itself ; can we any longer say to it,
what dost thou do more ? For a soul that dilates
itself thus much, must have a heart capacious
enough to contain all mankind, even such as it is
not tied to by blood, hopes of interest, or any other
obligation, save that of which the Apostle speaks,
'Owe nobody any thing, but that ye love one another.'
However, if you will make farther advances towards
the pious invasion of the kingdom of charity, and
are desirous of carrying your conquest to its farthest
confines, open the bowels of your compassion to your
very enemies, do good to those who hate you, pray
for those who persecute and revile yon, and study
to be peaceful to those who hate peace. Then, then,
indeed, the altitude and extent of the heavens and
of your soul are alike, and their beauty the same.
Then will be fulfilled in you what is sung of God,
'extending the Heavens as a skin.' — Ps. ciii. And
in this heaven of your soul, grown to so miraculous
a height, width, and beauty, the Most High will de
light to dwell, to expatiate and manifest in it his im
mensity and glory." Thus far St. Bernard.
THE LIFE OF 0 UR
You see then, pious reader, how useful and neces
sary a virtue is charity, without which it is impos
sible to please God, and with which every one is
eure to be agreeable in his sight. Study, therefore,
with all your heart, with all your mind, and with
all your force to possess it. For this possession
will enable you to bear with constancy, courage,
and cheerfulness, the greatest hardships and sever
ities for the sake of God and your neighbor.
CHAPTER XXVHl.
THAT glorious soldier and precursor of Christ,
St. John the Baptist, was fettered in prison,
by order of Herod, for the defence of truth, in re
proving him for detaining the wife of his brother. — •
Matt. xi. Here it was that, desirous of committing
his disciples to the care of our Lord Jesus, he
thought of sending them on a message to him ; that,
hearing the words of this divine oracle, and seeing
the wonders he wrought, they might be inflamed
with the love of him, and become his followers.
Accordingly he despatched th ?m to Jesus, whom
they asked in the name of John, * Is it you who are
come, or are we to expect another?" Our Saviour
was then amidst a great multitude. Behold him
then, attentively, and see with what a pleasing as
pect he receives the messengers of John, wisely an
swered them, first in deeds, and then in words. In
their presence, then, he cured the deaf, the dumb,
and the blind, wrought many other miracles,
preached to the people, and then among other things
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
said to these envoys, "Go, relate to John what you
have heard and seen." They gladly performed
their embassy, and related all to John, who as gladly
received the joyful tidings. And after the death
of John these disciples firmly adhered to Christ.
After their departure our Saviour bestowed great
encomiums on John to the multitude, as that he
was a prophet, nay, more than a prophet, and that
greater than he had not appeared among the chil
dren of men, etc., as you may find in the gospel.
Contemplate, then, our divine Lord in every situa
tion, whether preaching or teaching, or doing aught
else, as I have already counselled you so often.
THE LIFE OF OUR
JOHN THE BAPTIST IS BEHEADED IN PRISON.
In chapter XXIX, THE DEATH OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
HERE we may pause awhile in meditation on the
glorious end of St. John the Baptist. When
the impious Herod arid his infamous adulteress had
perhaps already plotted the death of the Baptist,
that they might escape the reproaches due to their
criminal intercourse, it happened that at a public
entertainment, Herodias, the wretched fruit of their
incestuous bed, danced so much to the satisfaction
LORD JESUS CHRIST 171
of Herod, that he promised her for a recompense
the head of John; and in consequence of this grant,
he was beheaded in the prison. Behold here, how
great a man is put to death, and how basely and ig-
nominously he is murdered by the iniquity of a
reigning tyrant. Oh, great God, how did you suffer
this ! What can be the cause of the death of so
great a man, one of such perfection and sanctity as
to be taken for Christ ?
But if you would digest this well, consider first
the baseness and barbarity of his murderers, and
then meditate on the singular greatness and emin
ence of John, and you will find fresh matter for
surprise. You have already seen above, the many
and great encomiums bestowed upon him, by our
divine Saviour ; now hear what applauses St. Ber
nard gives him in his panegyric on him: ''That
Mother and Mistress of all Churches, the Roman
Church, of which it is said, I have prayed for thee,
Peter, that thy faith fail not, received her consecra
tion and badge in honor of St. John the Baptist,
next after the name of our Saviour. It was indeed
fit that the singular friend of his beloved spouse
should pass thither when she was to be raised to her
sovereign dignity. Peter was crucified, Paul was
beheaded, but the preference of dignity was still
given to the precursor. The purple of Rome ?" the
blood of martyrs, the sovereign honor belongs to
Unit holy patriarchate. Still, John is everywhere
greater, singularly wonderful in all things, and above
all. Who was ever so gloriously proclaimed ? Who
was so amply replenished with the Holy Ghost in
the womb of his mother? Whose nativity does the
Church solemnize except his? Who was ever so
fond of the solitude of a desert ? Who was ever
known to converse so sublimely? Who was the
LIFE OF OVH
first preacher of penance, and the kingdom of heaven 1
John. Who baptized the King of Glory \ John.
Who plainly revealed the sacred mystery of the
Trinity? John. To whom did Christ ever give
testimony but to John ? And finally, to whom, after
Christ and his Mother, does the Church pay so much
honor as to John ? John is a patriarch, nay, the
last, and head of all the patriarchs. John is a
prophet, nay, more than a prophet ; for him, whose
coming he foretells, he points out with his finger ;
John is an angel, and the chosen among angels ;
our Saviour testifying it of him, saying : ' Behold I
send my angel, etc.' — John 1. John is an apostle,
and the first of apostles and their prince ; and the
first of God's messengers ; John is an evangelist and
preacher of the gospel ; but the first in that office :
John is a virgin, nay, the illustrious pattern of all
virgins. The titlespring of purity, and mirror of
chastity : John is a martyr, and the encouragement
of other martyrs, and the soul of martyrdom from
the birth to the death of Christ : he the voice calling
out in the wilderness, he, the fore-runner of the
judge, and the herald of the DIVINE WORD. He is
Elias, and till his coming, the law and the prophets
were so many lamps that beamed forth brightly and
warmly their beneficent influence. I pass over in
silence the proficiency he made in angelic perfec
tions, by which he not only imitated every degree
of that heavenly hierarchy, but even emulated the
highest in seraphic wisdom and virtue." Thus far
St. Bernard. Now hear that holy archbishop of
Ravenna, St. Peter Chrysogonus, in a panegyric on
the day of his decollation :
" The life of the Baptist," says he, u is the school of
virtue, the mastership of life, the plan of sanctity,
and the model of justice, etc." If, therefore, you
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 173
compare the excellence of merit, and eminence of
dignity in John, with the littleness and grovelling
baseness of those who beheaded him, you cannot
help being surprised. What, shall a common ex
ecutioner, the basest of the human race, be em
powered to take away the life of so great, so good
a personage, as if he were the meanest and most ex
ecrable highwayman or murderer ! Behold him,
then, with reverence and concern : how readily he
stoops his neck to the command of this vile and
reprobate butcher ; how humbly he bends his knees,
and giving thanks to God, lays his neck on the
block, and patiently receives on it the repeated
strokes of the barbarous executioner. Thus departs
the Baptist, that intimate friend, near relation, and
familiar servant of our Lord Jesus Christ. Oh!
what a confusion is this for us, who, at the least
visit of a trivial adversity, lose all sight of patience.
John, innocent John, meets death, and such a death,
with cheerfulness ; and we, stained with the spots
of sin, and worthy the divine indignation, are un
able to sustain the least contradiction or indignity,
though but in bare words.
Our Saviour was absent from the city, when John
was beheaded, though still in Judea. But when
his death was published, our divine Lord wept for
him, as did his disciples, and the Blessed Virgin,
who had nursed him in his most tender infancy, and
who still loved him with extreme affection. Our
blessed Redeemer, however, consoled her, with tell
ing her, that it was expedient that he should die
for the defence of the justice of his heavenly Father,
that he would soon receive the reward of his suf
ferings in heaven : and that it was not the will of
the Almighty to protect his saints from death, since
they are not designed for this world : their kingdom
174 THE LIFE OF OUR
and country not being earthly but celestial ; that
John was freed from the chains of the body, and
THE DAT7GHTHB OF HEROD IAS BEARS THK HEAD OF JOHN .THE
BAPTIST TO HER MOTHER,
the powers of death had no more force to retain
him on earth, or to detain him from the kingdom of
heaven, whither he would soon be transferred to reign
with the Father. He then exhorts his blessed mother
to be of good heart, as all was well with her beloved
Baptist. Soon after this Christ retired from these
parts to Galilee. Dwell, gentle reader, on the pre
ceding subjects, endeavor to render yourself present
to them, contemplate them devoutly, and when you
have completed your meditation on these heads, as
God shall be pleased to inspire you, proceed to
others, and follow your blessed Saviour, step by step,
whithersoever he goes.
LOUD
UWU&2
175
JBBUB DISCOURSES WITH THE WOMAN OP SAMARIA.
In chapter XXX, THE CONFERENCE OFR LORD JESUS HAD WITH THE
SAMARITAN WOMAN, AS HE SAT, BEING FAINT
- AND WEARIED, BY THE SIDE OF THE WELL TO REST
HIMSELF.
IT happened upon a certain time, that as our Lord
Jesus was going from the country of Judea into
Galilee, he passed though the country of Samaria,
and being wearied with the fatigue of his journey,
which was the space of a,bout fifteen miles, he sat
down to iest himself by the side of a well in the
176 THE LIFE OF OUR
way, which is called the well of Jacob. Consider
here, pious Christian, thy God, and contemplate
awhile how he is pleased to condescend to be tired and
faint for thy sake. He frequently travelled, was
often wearied, and his whole life was laborious,
painful, and full of troubles.
While our Lord sat thus by the well's side, his
disciples went into the next town to provide meat
to refresh themselves : in the meantime, there came
a woman of that country, whose name was Lucia,
to draw water from the well ; with whom our Lord
began to discourse, and to manifest himself unto her,
talking of many great and sublime mysteries. What
the particulars of this discourse were, how his dis
ciples returned again unto him, and how, by the
woman's relation of him, the people of the city
came out to him, and detained him with them for
many days together, and how, at last, he departed
from them, I shall wholly omit, and pass by at
present, it being clearly set forth at large in the
gospel of St. John, to which I refer you, there
steadily to contemplate every action of our Lord
Jesus. For concerning the doctrine, which, for our
instruction, may be gathered from this part of sacred
history, there are many things concerning our Lord
Jesus which are worthy of our greatest notice and at
tention. And first his great meekness, that our
most humble Lord would vouchsafe to remain alone,
while his disciples were gone into the city to buy
provision.
Secondly, he disdained not to converse with that
low and simple woman, and to treat with her of such
sublime and sacred mysteries, as though he had been
discoursing of them in the presence of the most
learned and wise men. This ought to reprove and
oonf ound the pride of the more learned, who imagine
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 177
their labor and pains to be lost, in bestowing their
words, swelled with vanity, upon a few or only on
one person, esteeming so slender an audience un
worthy to receive the exposition of their sublime
doctrine. Thirdly, we may consider his great
poverty, mortification of the flesh, and humility :
his disciples brought him meat from the city, and
desired him to eat : but where did he eat ? With
out the city, in the open air, and at the well's side,
drinking of the water to quench his thirst. And in
this poor and humble manner, being weary, faint,
and hungry, he refreshed himself. Neither are we
to imagine, that it was only once, or by chance,
that this happened to him, but that it was his usual
custom to do so. For we may well suppose, that
our most humble Lord travelled through all the
countries in the same manner, and that, though ever
so faint and wearied, he oftentimes took his small
refection, outside of the towns and habitations of
the people, near some well or river, having neither
delicate meats, curious plates, or delicious wines ; but
the pure element from the river or fountain, was
his chief and only liquor. He who makes the vine
yard abundantly fruitful, the springs to flow with
plenty, and gives life to all that move in the waters,
was humbly contented, like another poor man, with
bread and water only, upon bare ground. We may
likewise contemplate how intent our Lord Jesus was
in the study of heavenly things, and of such as re
garded more the soul than the body ; for being
asked by his disciples to eat of those meats which
they had brought him, he answered them, saying :
" I have meat to eat, that you know not — my meat
is to do the will of him that sent me."— John iv.
Wherefore he waited till the people of the city came,
that he might preach to them ; desiring first to per-
178
THE LIFE OF OUR
form that which appertained to the nourishment of
their souls, before that which belonged to the re-
freshment of his own body, notwithstanding the
great necessity he had for it. Contemplate well
these things, and endeavor with all your study to
imitate his virtues.
il-UfiS PLUCK THE EARS OP CORN ON THE BABBATH DA*.
In chapter XXXI, THE DISCIPLES OF OUR LORD PLUCK EARS OP COEN
AND EAT THEM, THROUGH HUNGER, ON THE
SABBATH.
AS the disciples of our Lord Jesus passed through
the fields with him on the Sabbath-day, where
corn was growing, they plucked some of the ears*
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
and ate them through hunger. The Pharisees, who
watched every word and action of our Lord, that
they might find an occasion of accusing him of
some breach of their law, reproved him and his dis
ciples for it, saying: ''Thy disciples do that which
is not lawful to do on the Sabbath-day." — Mait. xii.
But our Lord, to excuse them, iirst brought the
example of David and his companions, who, when
they were hungry, eat the bread of proposition.
"Have you not read," ?aid he, "what David did
when he was hungry, and they that were with him :
how he entered into the house of God, and did eat
the loaves of proposition, which were not lawful
for him to eat, nor for them that were with him ; but
for priests only?" Secondly, that the priests of the
law, ou the Sabbath-day, circumcised and offered
sacrifice ; which are both corporal works. " Have
ye not read in the law," said he again, "that on the
Sabbath-days the priests in the temple do break the
Sabbath, and are without blame?"— Ibid. And
what might have served for the greatest excuse,
was, that the Lord of the Creation was himself present
there, who was the author and master of the law,
and therefore could give them leave to break it.
Let us now devoutly consider, and take compas
sion on the great poverty of the disciples, though in
company of their Lord, who is the sovereign God
and Master of all things. If wo duly reflect on it,
we cannot but be inspired with rhe love of poverty
and corporal suffering for his sake. For is it not
strange to think that they, who, by a singular pre
rogative, were chosen to the sublime degree of the
apostleship, and made the princes of the world,
should be obliged by hunger to eat the ears of corn
as if they were not men, but irrational animals ; and
this too, in the presence of him, who is the Creator
180 THE
of all things, and who bountifully feeds and provides
for every creature ; and yet he sees them suffer such
want without bestowing any relief, as if he were not
able to help them ? But our most gracious and mer
ciful Lord, who wrought all things for our greater
example, and for the good of our salvation, suffered
them to be thus needy and poor, for the accomplish
ment of his great designs ; as he himself also had
assumed the nature of man, with all the infirmities
incident to it, but yet without sin. Wherefore,
though he had compassion on them in this their hun
ger and distress, inasmuch as he was moved unto it
by the tender love he bore them ; nevertheless, he
was pleased with it, as he saw the good- will with
which they suffered, out of pure love and affection
to him.
And here all such as have forsaken the world for
the love of our blessed Lord, have a perfect model
from which they may copy all those virtues which
are necessary for them to follow ; viz. : patience in
distress, true poverty of spirit, and the virtue of
abstinence, contrary to the vice of gluttony. And
first, as to patience in all our necessities and wants :
seeing that the disciples of our Lord Jesus, who had
quitted all they possessed to follow him, suffered
with cheerfulness and patience such great distress
in his presence, whom they saw feed and relieve
miraculously many thousands of other men, how
much more ought we to be patient in the like ne
cessities, when it shall please his divine goodness to
afflict us with them ? We are neither so deserving
his favors as they were, nor are we so perfectly es
tablished in his love ; but on the contrary, have
deserved, for our impatience and ingratitude to so
bountiful a God, much greater punishments, and
many more wants than his goodness permits us to
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 181
suffer, who, perhaps, has never yet permitted us to
know any want at all.
Secondly, as to what relates to a perfect state of
poverty : you are to understand that the poverty of
our Lord Jesus far excelled in perfection, beyond
any comparison, the voluntary poverty of any other
person. For the poverty of those who, for the love
of Christ, have forsaken all the riches and prefer
ments of this transitory life, is generally in great
repute with worldlings, and is commended and
esteemed by them as a sublime and noble virtue.
But the poverty of our blessed Lord was held in
contempt by all ; inasmuch as it was unknown to the
world, that he voluntarily submitted to it ; where
fore they esteemed it to be of mere necessity, and
what he could not avoid, as seems to appear both in
him and his disciples, who were obliged by hunger
to pluck and eat the earsot corn ; and that poverty,
which we suffer not by choice, but through necessity,
is too often reckoned a contemptible thing, so like
wise was that of our blessed Lord ; for such as knew
him, saw that he had neither house nor habitation
wherein to repose or to put his head, which drew
upon him the contempt and derision of all that be
held him. This we may gather from the too general
practice of mankind, who conceive the utmost con
tempt for the poor and distressed ; but if, with
patience and resignation, they submit to the
divine will, they are in reality most worthy and
pleasing in the sight of him who left them his
glorious example : hence, it is a most danger
ous and execrable sin to despise any man in his
poverty or misery. The truly poor, however, are
not those only who have forsaken all temporal
riches, and make an outward show and profession
of voluntary poverty, but they, who to this add the
182 THE LIFE OF OUR
poverty of t"he spirit, that is, desire no plenty, nor
seek any more comfort in the perishable goods of
this life, than just as much as may suffice to support
the infirmities of nature. For, if he that is poor
remains so only for want of an opportunity of en
joying the goods and plenty of fortune, such a one
has no share in the holy poverty of our Lord Jesus,
but rather lives in poverty, misery, and distress in
this life, without any merit of an eternal reward in
the next. This is the true description of a per
fect poverty, concerning which virtue St. Bernard
speaks at large in his sermon upon the nativity of
our Lord Jesus.
Thirdly, as to the virtue of abstinence, we may
find most powerful examples of it both in the disci
ples of our Lord, and in our Lord Jesus himself.
Gluttony is a vice against which we must struggle
during our whole life. This we are taught by the
holy fathers, who, by long experience, were true
judges of the nature of its dangerous and repeated
assaults. St. Bernard especially in many places
tells us with what assiduity we ought to shun that
vice and give to the body only so much nourishment
as is necessary for its support. Whatever we allow
it more than this, by feeding our lust, and exceeding
our present necessities, exposes us to the danger of
death, both soul and body. By yielding to this pas
sion, our virtue is so often overcome, that like irra
tional and senseless brutes we prefer the gratifica
tion of our greedy appetites, to every other consid
eration, which gives rise to many disorders and infir
mities. Thus our health is impaired, and not only
the body remains indisposed to serve God, but even
the soul is so much defiled that it cannot recur to
him with becoming purity and cleanliness of heart.
Seeing then, that the vice of gluttony is so danger-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 183
cms in its consequences and so much condemned by
the fathers, we must endeavor to shun it as much as
is in our power, and obtain the virtue of abstinence,
which we may learn from the example of our blessed
Lord, of his disciples, and oilier saints. They have
taught us to subdue oar flesh, and keep it in sub
jection by temperate food, and such a degree of
abstinence as may be guided by the virtue of discre
tion, which, as St. Bernard saith, "is not only a
virtue itself, but the director of all other virtues ;
inasmuch as where this is wanting, that which may
seem to be virtue, is only vice." St. Gregory saith
that, "Discretion is the mother and preserver of all
other virtues." Now discretion, in relation to abstin
ence, and the nourishing of our bodies, consists in
this, as St. Augustine teaches in his book of con
fession, that a man ought to use the same modera
tion in eating and drinking for the nourishment of
his body, as he would use in taking of a medicine
for the cure of an infirmity. For as in taking physic
we should take such a portion or quantity as is suffi
cient for healing our sores, or the curing our disease,
so likewise, as hunger and thirst became the infir
mities of mankind, by the transgression of Adam,
meat and drink, which are medicines appointed for
the curing of these infirmities, ought to be taken
only in such proportion as is conducive to that end.
The above may suffice of the virtue of abstinence,
and the vice contrary to it, which is gluttony, which
I have here taken occasion to treat of, from the
hunger our Lord Jesus and his disciples sustained,
and the poorness of their small refection, who, for
our example, both here and in the desert, began
vigorously to oppose and fight against the sin of
gluttony.
184 THE LIFE OF OUR
In chapter XXXII, THE JEWS, HAVING DRIVEN OUR LORD JESUS OUT OF
THE CITY TO THE TOP OF A STEEP MOUNTAIN,
ENDEAVOR TO THROW HIM DOWN THENCE.
WHEN our Lord Jesus was again returned to
the city of Nazareth, the Jews desired to see
him work some miracles ; but our Lord showed
them, by many reasons, how unworthy they were of
such signs. Being vehemently enraged against him,
they drove him out of the city ; and our most hum
ble Lord, closely pursued, meekly fled before them.
Their fury was so much increased and kindled
against him, that they drove him to the top of a
high mountain, that they might thence have an
opportunity of throwing him down headlong. Our
Lord Jesus, however, by the power of his sacred
divinity, passed through the midst of them, and
went his way ; for the time was not yet come in
which he had chosen to die. Contemplate him here,
devout reader, flying from his enemies, and hiding
himself under a rock, to save himself from their fury ;
compassionate him in his sufferings and endeavor
to follow his steps, in the practice of humility and
patience
In chapter XXXIII, THE MAN WITH A WITHERED HAND CURED BY OUR
LORD JESUS.
AS our Lord Jesus was teaching in the synagogue
on one of the Sabbath-days, there was a certain
man whose wright hand was withered, whom our
blessed Lord made stand in the midst of the doctors,
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 185
and said to them, " Is it lawful or not to do good on
the Sabbath day ?" But they made him no answer.
He therefore said to the man: "Stretch forth thy
hand," and it was immediately restored.
Our divine Saviour was oftentimes pleased to
work miracles on the Sabbath, to confound the per-
fidiousuess of the Jews, who interpreted the law
according to the letter ; which he would have to be
observed according to the spirit. The law did not
forbid the performance of good works : and acts of
charity were not forbidden to be done on the
Sabbath-day ; but the committing of sin, and servile
works. They, however, pretending to be greatly
scandalized, conspired against him, and said : "This
man is not of God, for he keeps not the Sabbath !"
Our Lord Jesus, notwithstanding, did not desist from
working miracles on the Sabbath ; but rather per
formed them more frequently, on purpose to unde
ceive them, and convince them of their error. Con
sider him then, pious Christian, in the exercise of
the above-mentioned good and charitable actions ;
and according to his example, never omit the doing
any good work on account of others being unjustly
scandalized : for the fear of such scandal ought
never to make us desist from those works, which
are necessary for the salvation of a soul, or are helps
to its spiritual advancement in perfection. Although
it is true, in order to avoid giving scandal to our
neighbor, according to the prescription of perfect
charity, we should sometimes abstain from some
temporary satisfaction of the body rather than
offend him. Wherefore the apostle to the Romans
says : " It is good not to eat flesh, and not to drink
wine, nor anything whereby thy brother is of
fended, or scandalized, or made weak." — Rom. xiv.
186
TUB LIFE OF OUR
JB8TJ8 MULTIPLIES THE FIVE LOAVES AND TWO SMALL .T
In chapter XXXIV, THE MULTIPLICATION OF THE LOAVES, AND HOW OUR
LORD JESUS PROVIDES FOR THOSE WHO TRULY LOVE
HIM.
THE Holy Scripture tells us, that at two differ-
ent times our Lord Jesns wrought the miracle
of the multiplication of a few loaves, with which
he not only fed, but fully satisfied many thousands
of people. Do you, however, Christian reader, re
duce them both to one meditation : and attentively
LORD J38UB CHRIST. 187
eonsider the words and actions of Chiist our
Saviour, as they are related in the holy gospel.
" I have compassion," saith he, " on this multitude,
because now three days they have continued with
me. Neither have they what to eat, and if I dis
miss them fasting to their homes, they will faint in
tl/e way : for some of them came from afar off."—
Mark viii. After which, he multiplied the loaves,
and they all ate and were satisfied. If we duly con
sider these words, together with the miracle he
performed, we shall find for our spiritual instruction,
many good motives to love and praise his holy name :
and more especially for that our Lord Jesus here
showed himself to be most singularly good and
merciful, most kind and courteous, most discreet and
circumspect.
And first, that he was most merciful, appears in
the words he spoke, saying, "I have compassion on
the multitude." Whereby it is plain, that it was
his pure mercy alone that moved him to fpod and
satisfy them in their great hunger and necessity;
for, as the royal prophet witnesseth, "All the earth
is full of his mercy." — Ps. xxxii.
Secondly, he plainly showed his wonderful kind
ness and courtesy in the words which immediately
follow : " For lo," saith he, " now these three days
tluy have continued with me, having nothing to
eat." Holding himself, as it were, obliged to them
for remaining with him those three days, when in
deed, on the contrary, it was for their own good and
advantage, and not for his ; save only, that out of
his endless bounty, his desire was, as he himself
affirms in another place, to dwell with the sons of
men, and be conversant with them for their salva
tion : for they that follow him by a good life, and
are desirous to harken to his doctrine, and ke«» hia
188 THE LIFE O
commandments, he most singularly loves, and
never withdraws his bountiful hand from them, but
ever succors and relieves them in their necessities.
Thirdly, our blessed Lord showed his great discre-
tion and circumspection, for seeing that many of
the people were come to him from distant parts, and
considering their necessities, and that it was dan
gerous to dismiss them again fasting, he said, "If I
dismiss them fasting to their home they will faint
in the way." Consider how full of sweetness and
heavenly comfort were these words. The same daily
happens to us. For we have not of ourselves where
with to sustain either body or soul, unless he pleases
to give it us; and we should faint in our way,
should he leave us to ourselves, for without him \ve
cannot attain to any spiritual blessing, so that we
have no reason to glory in ourselves when we ex
perience any comfort in our spiritual exercises:
since it is not our own, but all comes from him.
And therefore, if we duly reflect, we shall find that
the true servants of God, the more perfect they
were in a holy life, the nearer to God, and the more
excellently rich in the gifts of his divine grace, so
much the more humble were they in their own eyes,
attributing nothing to themselves but misery, wretch-
edness, and sin. For the nearer any one approaches
to God, the more he is illuminated : and therefore
more plainly discovers the great goodness and mercy
of God, so that pride and vain-glory, which proceed
from ignorance and spiritual blindness, can have no
place or residence in his soul : for he can have no
reason to be proud who truly knows God, and
thoroughly examines into his own state. But to
return ! It is certain, that we come from afar off when
we come to God ; this I speak in regard to myself,
and to such as are like to me, who have gone so far
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 189
astray from God by the sins we have committed.
Wherefore, whoever returns again to him may be
truly said to come a long way. But after Christ
had spoken the above-mentioned words, he proceeded
to deeds.
Behold him then, pious reader, how he takes the
loaves in his hands, and having given thanks to God,
gives them to his disciples to set before the multi
tude, and multiplied them in such a manner in theii
hands, that every one ate as much as he desired,
and there still remained many baskets full of frag
ments. Consider likewise, how he looks on them
while they eat, and is pleased in beholding the satis
faction they receive from this refection. And they,
at the same time, admiring the wonderfulness of
this miracle, fed both their minds and bodies, ren
dering praise and thanksgiving to their benefactor,
and with joy repeated to each other the wonderful
works of his mercy. Whether the Blessed Virgin
was present or not, the holy scripture makes no
mention : do you, however, Christian reader, medi
tate on this subject, in the manner your devotion
snail direct you, and God shall please to inspire.
190
-TJFS O& OUR
LORD JESUS cmuax,
CHAPTER XXXV. OUR LORD'S FLIGHT WHEN THEY WOULD HAVE MADH
HIM KING : AND AGAINST WORLDLY HONORS IN
GENERAL.
WHEN our Lord had fed the multitude, aa
mentioned in the preceding chapter, they
sought to make him king. For they considered that
he was capable of supplying their wants, and there
fore they wisely concluded that they could not be
in want of anything under such a king. But our
Lord Jesus, knowing their design, fled impercep
tibly from them to the mountains, so that they could
not find him. Christ then would not accept temporal
honors. And observe how truly and unfeignedly
he labors to shun them ; he sends his disciples by
sea, and goes himself up to the mountains, that, if
they should persist in searching for him, as they
would probably do, by following his disciples, they
might look for him in vain among them. The dis
ciples, indeed, would not have left our Lord, but
that he compelled them to do so. It was undoubt
edly a pious disposition in them to desire to remain
with Christ : but more pious yet to leave him for a
time out of obedience to his will. Observe then
and meditate with what inward regret they depart
from him, but not till he urges them to it, by signi
fying it to be his divine pleasure ; after which they
comply, and to show their humility and entire sub-
missioc to his commands, go on board the vessel
192 TEE LIFE OF OUR
without him, however perilous and grievous it be to
them. Thus does Christ act daily with us in a spir
itual manner ; by our own good- will we would never
have Christ absent from us, but his pleasure is
otherwise ; he comes into our souls, and is absent,
at times, when he pleases, but always for our good.
Hear what St. Bernard says upon this subject:
" After the divine spouse has been sought for with
continued vigils and prayers, and copious floods of
tears, when he seems to be within reach of his pur
suing spouse, he again escapes ; and again coming
up to his weeping pursuer, suffers himself to be
taken, but not retained, flying as it were from her
arms in the very minute when she embraces him ;
yet if the faithful soul devoutly persists in her pur-
suit of him with prayers and tears, he will again,
at length, return to her, and, 'not disappoint her
of the wish of her lips.' — Psal. xx. But again will
he disappear, and remain unseen, till again he be
sought after with the whole affection. Thus while
the soul is confined to this mortal body, it has fre
quently the joy of its spouse's presence : but that
joy is not complete, since, though his visitations re
joice her frequently, the frequent vicissitudes of ab
sence give her equal pain. And this the beloved
must endure, till, having thrown off her corporal
burden, she shall be able to fly, raised on the pinions
of her wishes, wafted over the plains of contem
plation, and rapidly following her heavenly spouse
whithersoever he goes. Neither shall every soul
attain to this, but such only as by extraordinary
devotion, vehement desire, and tender affection,
proves herself a true spouse of Christ, and worthy
that, taking upon him the form of a spouse, he
should visit her in the nuptial ornaments of his
grace." And elsewhere the same saint says, "Per-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 11): }
haps he therefore withdrew himself, that he might
be recalled the more earnestly, and the more ar
dently retained. For thus lie once feigned to be
going farther, not that lie intended to do so much,
as to be invited to stay, with that tender solicita
tion, ' Stay with us, for it is growing late in the even
ing.' ' —Luke xxiv. And immediately he adds,
" This kind of pious feint, or rather salutary dispensa
tion of Providence, which the incorporal word cor
porally expressed to the body, the spirit frequently,
in a special manner peculiar to itself, makes use of to
exercise a truly devout soul. Passing by, hemeana
to be stopt : going away he is willing to be recalled :
his departure is a dispensation of Providence : his
return is ever the purpose of his will ; and both
are the effects of infinite wisdom, the great ends of
which he alone can fathom.
" Experience shows that the soul is frequently ex
ercised with these vicissitudes of the absence and
presence of the divine word, and he himself spoke
as much : 'I go and I return to you.' — John xiv.
And likewise, ' A little while you shall not see me,
and again a little while and you shall see me.' — •
Ibid. Oh, the little while, and no little while ! Oh
the short space, and tediously long duration !
Beloved Lord, do you call it a little while when we
are not to see you ? With humblest submission to
your sacred words, 0 Lord, it is a long, a tediously
long, and heavy age to lose sight of you but for an
instant. Yet both are true in different sense. An
age of your absence is but a little while, if our merit
only be considered ; but if compared to our wishes,
every moment is a tedious age. This the prophet
hints at, saying, ' If he should delay, wait for him :
because he will come and not tarry.' — Hob. xi. How
will he not tarry, if he should delay coming : un-
194 TUtt LIFE OF OUR
less it be that his coming will be expeditious with
respect to our deserts, though slow with regard to
our desires ? Now the amorous soul is wafted by
desire, and drawn on by affection, overlooks its
merits, shuts its eyes to dazzling majesty, opens
them to spiritual joy, fixes its hope in salvation, and
In that confidently proceeds. Made intrepid at
length by hope, she boldly recalls the divine word,
and confidently invites the object of her delight,
calling him with unusual liberty, not her Lord, but
her beloved spouse. ' Return, my beloved, re
turn.' " — Cantic. 1. And in another place, the
same saint says, " God never ceases to exercise with
such vicissitudes those who lead a spiritual life, or
rather those whom he intends to lift to spirituality ;
visiting them betimes, and early proving them."
Thus far St Bernard.
You have seen then, gentle reader, how our Lord
Jesus alternately visits the soul, and departs from it
in a spiritual sense ; and how the soul ought to be
have under either circumstance. She must earnestly
and fervently solicit his return, yet patiently bear
his absence, after the example of his disciples, who,
out of obedience, enter the vessel without him, and
bear up against the storms that threaten, with hopes
of his succor to deliver them. But now let us return
to our Lord Jesus. When the disciples had put off
to sea, he went up alone to the mountains, and thus
escaped the hands of them who sought him. You
see with what care and study our Lord fled from the
honor of a worldly crown. And what did he this
for but to set an example for you to follow ? His
flight then was not so much for his own sake as
for ours. For he well knew what rashness the
ambition of worldly honors must hurry us into.
For such honors are the greatest snare, that can be
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 195
laid to entangle us, and the strongest battery that can
be planted for the subversion of our souls, whether it
consists in the possession of power, ecclesiastic or
secular, of authority, or learning. For it is almost
impossible for men to delight in honors, without
standing in imminent clanger, and tottering, as it
were, on the brink of a steep precipice : nay, rather
should I say, without already rolling down, and that
for many reasons. First, [because the mind that is
once delighted with honors is wholly engrossed by
them, and thinks of nothing but preserving and im
proving them ; and St. Gregory, in his 30th Homily,
observes, "that every one is so much the more
alienated from the love of the Supreme Being, as he
is delighted with inferior objects."
Secondly, because he is quite taken up with pro
curing a multitude of friends, acquaintances, and cor
respondents, by whose means and assistance he may
add to his honors, and consequently must comply
with many things incompatible with conscience and
God's pleasure, out of mere complaisance to them,
from whose friendship he expects such advantages.
Thirdly, he envies those who are possessed of the
honors he covets, and generally detracts from their
merit, and thusfalls into envy and scandal. Fourthly,
he thinks himself, and would have others esteem
him worthy of honors, and thus becomes vain and
arrogant: when, according to the Apostle, ''He
who thinks himself something, when he is really
nothing, deceives himself."-— 0O& vi. And there
fore Christ says, "When you have done all things
well, say, we are useless servants." — Luke xvii.
But when does an ambitious man say this ? Fifthly,
he walks not according to the spirit, but according
to the flesh ; and has not his heart raised and united
to heaven, but leaves it loose and dissipated with a
196 TUB LIFE OF OUR
variety of earthly objects. And sixthly, when once
a man suffers in himself a relish of ambition for
honors, he is so allured by them as never to be
satiated, but daily hankering after new ones, the
more he obtains, the more he desires to obtain, be
cause he vainly conceits himself to beas honorable
and worthy in the esteem of others, as he is in his
own. Thus does he deliver himself up a prey to
ambition, the worst of vices, and the mother of
many. But to convince you of the malice of this
vice, let St. Bernard speak for me.
"Ambition," says he, " is a subtle evil, a secret
poison, a hidden pestilence, the author of all guile,
the mother of all hypocrisy, the monster-getting
parentpf rancour, the moth of all virtues, the cancer-
worm of sanctity, the hardener of hearts, creating
diseases from their cures, engendering sickness from
medicines, and destroying all whom it basely sup
plants, as a concealed enemy undermines a city, to
involve its inhabitants in its ruins. And what nour
ishes this dangerous vermin but the dissipation of the
mind, and the forgetfulness of truth ? — And what dis
covers this lurking traitor, and unkennels this worker
of darkness, but the light of truth ? Such is that truth
which says, ' What does it avail a man if he gain
the whole world, and lose his own soul? — Matt. xvi.
And again, ' The powerful shall suffer powerful tor
ments.' — Wisd. vi. It is this same truth that makes
a man reflect, how trivial is the comfort in ambition,
grievous the judgment attending it, how brief its en
joyment, and how obscure its end. And therefore
the third temptation, which Satan tried oar Lord with,
was ambition, when he proffered him all the kingdoms
of the earth, if he would fall down and adore him.
You see then, that ambition is the worship of the
devil, for which he promises his adorers in recom-
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
pense, to lead them to worldly honors and glory."
In another place the saint says, "We are fond in
deed of rising, and covet to be exalted. For we are
by nature noble creatures, and of a certain greatness
of soul, and therefore it is natural in us to wish to be
elevated. Yet woe to us if we follow him, who says,
' I will sit on the mount of the testament, in the skirts
of the north.'— Isaiah xiv. O wretch ! in the skirts
of the north ! that is too frigid a mount ; however
you may covet power and eminence, we will not fol
low you thither. Yet how many to this very day fol
low your foul and fatal steps, nay, how few escape
being enslaved by the lust of power ! Oh, unhappy
creatures, whom do you thus follow ? Who is your
guide ? Is not this the mount to which the angel
ascended, and fell a devil ? Are you not aware that
after his fall, tortured with envy, and wickedly
anxious to supplant mankind, he showed them a like
eminence, telling them, 'You shall be like Gods,
knowing good and evil.'" — Gen. iii. An^ .1 little
after the saint adds, " Such the power of ambition,
that it can rob an Angel of angelic felicity. So the
ambition of knowledge stripped man of the glory of
immortality. If a man try to ascend the steps of
power, how many opponents, think you, will he
meet with, how many repulses, and how difficult a
road will he find ? And suppose he should attain
the summit of his wishes, what has he gained?
'The powerful shall be powerfully tormented.' —
Wlsd. vi. So that it is needless to enter into a
detail at present of the solicitudes and anxieties
which power produces. One ambitious of useless
knowledge, what labor must he not go through,
what anxiety of spirit, and still shall hear, though
thou burst thyself, tJiou shalt not overtake it. His
heart shall be bathed in bitterness, as often as he
198 THE LIFE OF OUR
sees one whom lie thinks himself inferior to, or
fancies that others do. What if he swells himself
with conceit ? ' I will destroy,' says the Lord, ' the
wisdom of the wise, and reprove the prudence of the
prudent.' — 1 Cor. i. But I shall say no more, as
you have seen, I fancy, how much the height of
ambition, and the thirst of knowledge and power, is
to be shunned by such as are any ways terrified at
the fall of one angel, and the ruin of man. ' Moun
tains of Gelboe, neither snow nor rain shall fall upon
you.' Yet what shall we do ? It behooves us to
ascend ; we are born, and imbibed with a desire of
elevation : who then shall teach us a salutary ascent !
Who but he who tells us, that he who is descended,
he likewise is ascended ? It is to him we are to
apply to learn the right ascent, that we may not
follow the footsteps of that evil guide, or rather
seducer. For seeing that no one ascended, he, the
Most High, descended ; and by his descent, secured
to us an easy and safe ascent. He descended from
the mount of power, in suffering himself to be encir
cled with the infirmities of the flesh ; he descended
from the mount of science, in the simplicity of his
preaching, to save all such as should sincerely be
lieve. In reality, what can seem weaker than the
little tender body and limbs of an infant? What
more void of science than a child ? Who less power
ful than one whose limbs are nailed to a tree, and
whose very bones are enumerated ? And who would
be thought less wise than one who should voluntarily
part with his life, and make satisfaction for damages
he had not committed ? Thus you see how much he
who descended, lessened and lowered himself be
neath wordly power and wisdom. Nor could he
ascend higher than he did in charity and goodness.
But where is the wonder that Christ should climb by
LORD JESUS CY/A'AsT. 199
descending, when we have seen men and angels
precipitated by attempting to rise." The same
saint elsewhere says, "Oh, the perverse ambition
of the sons of Adam ! Though it be a laborious task
to ascend, and an easy matter to descend, they
climb with levity, and descend with difficulty ; prone
to honors, and even to ecclesiatical dignities, a
weight too formidable for the very strength of ai\
angel. But to follow you, dear Jesus, no one is
ready: and few can be dragged, much less led by
your precepts." Thus far St. Bernard. From what
has been said, you may gather, gentle reader, how
much it behooves you to fly wordly and false honor,
and how certain it is, that true honor is to be at
tained only by humility.
But if some should flatter themselves with the
specious but vain pretext that their love and am
bition for learning and honors are but for rendering
themselves more serviceable to their neighbors in
the affairs of their salvation! St. Bernard will
answer them : ''Oh ! that they who have thus am
bitiously seized those honors, would but use them
with a fidelity equal to the confidence with which
they thrust themselves into them !" But I wish it
may not prove impracticable to gather the sweet
fruits of charity from the bitter plant of ambition.
Now to have that thorough con tempt for honors which
they really deserve, requires more than an ordinary
share of the sublimest virtue. St. John Chrysos-
tom observes, " to be in the midst of honors, and
make a right use of them, is like a man conversing
with a very beautiful young creature, and making
a law to himself, never to cast a loose look on her.
A man therefore undoubtedly stands in need of the
greatest fortitude of mind to make a proper, and
none but a proper use of the power and honors con»
ferred upon him.
200
THE LIFE OF OUR
ST. PETER BEGINNING TO SINK CRIES OUT FOR HELP.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
OUR LORD PRAYS UPON THE MOUNT ; AND, DESCEND
ING, WALKS ON THE WATERS : SOME REFLECTIONS
ON PRAYER.
AFTER the disciples had gone on board, and set
sail, onr Lord went up a high mountain, and
remained there till the fourth watch of the night, in
fervent prayer to his eternal Father. Whence you
see that our Lord frequently spent his time in prayer,
and often the whole or the best part of the night.
Behold him then in this devout exercise, how he
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 201
humbles himself before his divine Father, and like
a good shepherd, solicits for us his flock ; and this
in a state of mortification, of watching, and retire
ment. — And why principally does he do this, but to
set us an example of prayer, as he elsewhere recom
mended it to his disciples both by word and ex
ample. — 1 John ii. He told them, It is necessary
to pray, and never cease : proposing to them the ex
amples of the judge and the widow as related in
Luke xviii., to exhort them to confidence in prayer
and to perseverance in importuning ; to which he
added another example, of the friend who lent the
loaves to his friend, merely to avoid being any
longer solicited. And all this was purposely meant
to inculcate on us the virtue of prayer. And indeed,
it is a virtue of the greatest importance towards ob
taining all that is useful, and removing all that is
hurtful to us.
Would you obtain patience to bear up against ad
versities, be assiduous in prayer. Would you obtain
strength to overcome trials and temptations, be as
siduous in prayer. Would you become acquainted
with the subtle deceits of Satan in order to avoid
them, would you cheerfully persist in the service of
God, and tread the paths of mortification and afflic
tion for his sake ; would you renounce all carnal de
sires, and wholly betake yourself -to a spiritual life,
be assiduous in prayer. If you wish to destroy evil
thoughts, be a man of prayer. If you are desirous
to enrich your mind with holy reflections, and your
heart with virtuous, fervent, and pious desires, be a
man of prayer. If you are willing to strengthen
your good purposes with manly resolution and
steady perseverance, be a man of prayer. In a word,
whether you mean to extirpate vice from, or implant
virtue in your breast, make prayer your constant
202 THE LIFE OF OUR
study. For it is by prayer you receive the unction of
the Holy Ghost, who instructs the mind in all things.
It lifts a man to contemplation, and brings the soul
to the embraces of her heavenly spouse. Such is
the power and efficacy of prayer. In confirmation
of which, without recurring lo any of the numerous
testimonies in holy writ, it is sufficient to recollect
the many ignorant and illiterate persons who by
prayer have obtained, and still daily obtain these
fruits. — Wherefore it highly concerns all, if they
mean to be Christians, to give themselves up to the
exercise of prayer, but this is more especially incum
bent on persons in a religious state, who are sup
posed to have more leisure.
To this, gentle reader, I strongly exhort you :
make it the principal business of life, after the
necessary occupations of your state are complied
with, to attend to prayer. Let it be your delight ;
and take pleasure in nothing so much as in conversing
with God : which is done by prayer. But, that
you may have the advice of a more able counsellor
than I am, to determine you, hear what St. Bernard
says on the subject :
"They," says he, "who make prayer their fre
quent study, are sensible of what I say. Often
times we approach the holy altar with a coldness of
devotion, and kneel down to prayer with a froward-
ness of heart ; but, persisting in it, we suddenly
feel ourselves replenished with grace, the breast is
nourished with the heavenly aliment, and the whole
interior expands to the inundation of piety."
And again in another place he says': " As often
as I talk of prayer, methinks something inwardly
says to me, whence is it that of all who persist in
prayer, there are so few who are sensible of its fruits ?
—We seem to return from it just as we went to it ;
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 203
no one gives us any answer, or makes us any grant.
But follow not your own experience ; rather let faith
direct you : for faith is ever true, but experience
often otherwise. Now does not the truth of faith
tell us by the mouth of Christ, ' Whatever ye ask
praying, believe that ye shall receive, and it shall
be done unto you.' — Mark ii. Let none of you
then, brethren, despise or think lightly of his own
prayer ; for he to whom we pray does not. Scarce
has our prayer gained utterance, when it is recorded
by him ; and one of the two we may infallibly de
pend on, that he either will grant what we ask, or
what is more useful. We ourselves are ignorant
what it most behooves us to ask ; but God compass
ionates our ignorance, and still receives our prayer,
eo as to grant us what is better for us, instead of
the useless or pernicious favors we solicit. So that
prayer is never barren, provided it be made with
the requisite condition mentioned by the Psalmist,
that is, delight in God. * Delight in the Lord, and
he will grant you the petitions of your heart.' " —
Ps xxxvi.
A little farther on he adds, "Observe that such
are called the petitions of the heart, which reason
dictates as judicious ones. Neither have you cause
to complain, but rather to return God thanks with
sentiments of the utmost gratitude, since such is
the great care he takes of you, that when you ask
what is useless, or perhaps detrimental to you, he
grants you something better in the stead of it : like
a tender parent, who gives a child bread when he
asks it, but gives him not a knife for asking. You
are to take notice, that the petitions of your heart
are wholly contained under these three heads, nor
can I see aught which a good man can covet that is
not included in them, namely, the goods in this life,
£04 THE LIFE OF OUR
which are those of the body and those of the soul,
and are two of the three heads ; the third is the
beatitude of eternity. Wonder not that I include
the goods of the body among the blessings which
we are to ask of God ; for corporal gifts are no less
his than those of the spirit, and therefore are to be
asked of him, as far as is necessary or conducive to
the spiritual ; for example, we may, nay ought to
ask and hope for the necessary support, to enable
us to serve God. But our greatest solicitude, our
most fervent and pious importunity, ought to be for
obtaining virtue, and the grace of God for our souls
in this life, and glory in the next, where both body
and soul will be crowned with complete felicity."
And a little farther he says, " Let prayer then for
temporals be confined to absolute necessaries: let
prayer for the spiritual profit of the soul be free from
all impurity, and directed wholly to the divine pleas
ure : but let prayer for eternal happiness, with nil
due regard to humility, be bold and daring, with
presumption on God's mercy alone." "He that
would pray apart, and with fruit," says the same
saint, " must choose not only his place, but his time.
The time of fasting is certainly the fittest, especially
when the night hushes nature into a profound
silence, for then prayer will be both purer and more
free. Rise, according to the prophet Jeremiah,
' Rise in the night, in the beginning of your vigils,
and pour out your soul like water in the presence of
the Lord your God.' — Lam. ii. How securely does
prayer ascend by night, when no witnesses are by
but God and his angel, wTho presents it at the altar
of Heaven ! How grateful and pleasing does modest
secrecy make it appear in the eyes of the Almighty !
How serene and undisturbed does it reach his ears,
when removed from noise and hurry ! And finally,
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 205
how pure and sincere must it be when unsullied
with worldly solicitudes, and not tempted by public
applause and flattery ? It was for this reason that
the spouse in the Canticles retreated to the privacy
of her bed-chamber, and to the stillness of the night,
to seek her spouse, the divine word, that is, to pray.
For in reali ty they are one and the same thing. Since,
otherwise, you cannot be properly said to pray, if
in your prayers you seek aught beside the divine
word, or on his account, for he contains all you can
seek. In him are the remedies for all diseases, sup
plies for all necessities, helps for all defects, and
variety of perfection. In him, in short, you may
find whatever is necessary, fit, or useful. It is
needless and useless, therefore, to ask anything
besides the divine word, who himself contains all
things. For even if we should, when necessity re
quires, ask of God any temporal favors, provided
we ask them as we ought, for the sake of the divine
word, we cannot so much be said to ask the tem
porals as the word, for whose sake we asked them."
Thus far St. Bernard.
Here, gentle reader, you have the beautiful senti
ments of St. Bernard, a man endowed with a sub
lime contemplative genius, a fervent spirit of prayer,
and a refined taste for spiritual pleasures. Reflect
on his words, that you may take pleasure in them ;
it is for this purpose that I quote them so frequently,
for they are not only full of spirit, but highly elo
quent and pathetically moving to the service of God.
He was a man equally eminent for wisdom and
sanctity ; endeavor, therefore, to imitate him by
putting in practice the pious counsels he gives. By
this means will I accomplish the purpose I had in
view in referring to him so often. But let us return
to our Lord Jesus.
906
While our Lord was praying on the mount, the
disciples were at sea in the greatest dismay and
affliction, the wind being contrary, and the vessel
harassed with tempestuous weather. Behold, then,
and compassionate them amidst this severe tribula
tion. They are attacked by a storm, in a dark night,
and without their Lord. A severe trial indeed ! At
the fourth hour of the night, our Lord descended
from the mount, and walking on the waves, came
up to them. Contemplate here our Lord, who,
fatigued with long watching and praying, descends
barefooted from this steep and perhaps craggy
mountain, and walks upon the water as on dry land !
Thus the watery element knew and confessed its
Creator. When he drew near to the ship, his dis
ciples saw him, and taking him to be a shadow or
spectre, screamed out : but our gracious Lord, un
willing to terrify or afflict them any longer, said to
them, " I am here, be not afraid." — Matt. xiv. Then
Peter, confident of the Lord's power, began, with
his leave, to walk likewise on the waters ; but de
sponding, was about to sink, when our Lord stretched
forth his right hand, and saved him from sinking.
The gloss upon this place tells us, that our Lord
made him walk on the waters, to give him proof of
his divine power ; and suffered him to sink, in order
to remind him of his weakness, and not proudly to
presume himself on an equality with him.
Our Lord afterwards entered the vessel, the storm
ceased, and serenity ensued. The disciples received
him with reverence, rejoiced, and felt more perfect
tranquillity than before. Contemplate him and his
disciples in every one of these passages, which are
rich in matter of devotion. You may likewise draw
from them the moral reflection, that our Lord fre
quently does tjie same with us in a spiritual sense,
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 207
suffering his beloved to be inwardly or outwardly
afflicted in this world, "because he scourges every
child whom he accepts."— Neb. xii. "For they,"
the Apostle adds, "who are out of discipline, are
not legitimate children, but bastards." It is neces
sary, therefore, for us to undergo trials and afflic
tions in this life ; because from them we gain know
ledge and acquire virtue, and learn to keep them
when acquired ; and what is more, we build all our
hopes on them of future and eternal rewards. For
which reason we ought not to repine and be impa
tient under them, but to love and cherish them.
But because the advantage of tribulation is great,
and yet unknown to many, we therefore look upon
them as difficult, nay, insupportable. Therefore,
gentle reader, that you may be instructed to bear
them as you ought, I will, according to my custom,
bring you the authority of St. Bernard. " Tribula
tion," says he, " is useful, it works a trial, and leads
to glory. ' I am with him,' says the Lord, ' in
tribulation.' Let us give thanks then to the Father
of mercies, who is with us in tribulations, and con
soles us in every affliction. For, as I said, tribula
tion is a necessary good, which is changed into
glory, and terminates in joy : a long, an ample, a
plenary joy, which no one shall snatch from us.
Tribulation is necessary ; and this necessity brings
forth our crown. Let us not despise this seed breth
ren ; it is a small one indeed, but great in the
fruits it is big with. Grant it to be tasteless, grant it
to be bitter, even grant it to be a grain of mustard.
Let us not look upon the outside, but upon what is con
tained in it. What you behold of it is temporal, the
rest which you cannot see, eternal." And lower down,
he says : " ' I am with him in tribulation,' saith the
Lord, ' and I shall require no other merit than tribu-
208 THE LIFE OF OUR
lation.' How good then is it to hdhere to God. I
will do so then, and over place all my confidence in
him, for that h^ says, k 1 am with him in tribulation ;
I will free him and glorify him.' — Ps. xc. ;My de
light,' says he, "is to he wiih the children of men.'
He came upon earth to be with those who are sad
at heart, and to be with us in our tribulations.
But there shall come a time when we ourselves shall
be lifted to meet Christ in the air, and thence to re
main forever with our divine Lord, provided we,
in the meantime, endeavor to have him with us here.
O Lord, it is good for me to be troubled, so thou be
but with me. Nay, infinitely better is it than ban
queting or triumphing without theo. The furnace
tries the potter's vessels ; and tribulation tries the
just. What are we afraid of? Why do we de
spond ? Wherefore do we fly the furnace ? Does
the fire rage ? No matter ; the Lord is with us in
tribulation. If God is with us, who dare be against
us? What does it import who it is? If he has
but hold, who shall make him quit his hold ? Lastly ;
if he glorifies, who has power to humble?" "Let
us not, then," says the same saint, "glory in hope
alone, but even in tribulation. ' I will gladly glory
in my weakness, that the strength of Christ may
dwell within me,' says St. Paul. — 2 Cor. xii. O desira
ble weakness which is rewarded with the strength
of Christ ! Ah, who will give me not only to be
weak, but even to faint, and be lost to myself, so I
be but strong in force of the Lord of forces. For
strength is perfected by weakness, and virtue gath
ers force from infirmity, as the same Apostle
says." And again ; " when I am weakened then I
grow strong." "It is for this reason," adds St.
Bernard elsewhere, " that the spouse in the Can
ticles calls her beloved not a bundle, but a littld
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 209
bundle ; for that love makes every burthen light,
and every grievance portable. Well might she call
him little, for 'a little one was born to us:' But
more especially for that ' the sufferings of this world
are not to be compared to the future glory which will
be revealed in us,' if we credit St. Paul. — Rom. vii.
'For our present momentary light tribulation
will, on high, work in us an eternal weight of glory be
yond measure,' as the same Apostle says. — 2 Cor. iii.
And that will one day be a heap of glory to us
which is now but a little bundle of bitterness. And
may it not truly be called a little bundle, since Christ
himself tells us, that his yoke is sweet and his bur
then light? Not that it is light in itself; for the
bitterness of death is a severe and dreadful trial, if
it be considered only on his own account, yet love
makes it seem light and easy."
The same saint elsewhere says, "If we cast
an eye over the whole Church, we may easily ob
serve, that the spiritual members of it are much
more combatted than the carnal. This is the craft
of pride, envy and malice, always to disturb the
most perfect : according to the words of the prophet,
'his food is of the chosen sort.' — Abac. i. Nay, it
is the dispensation of Divine Provide.'ice that it
should be so ; not suffering the weak to be tried be
yond their strength, but drawing even advantage
from temptation ; while the more perfect but in
crease the number and glory of their triumphs over
their enemy, in every fresh trial they undergo.
With much more eagerness and warmth the adver
sary struggles to defeat the Church's right wing
rather than her left ; not laboring so much to defeat
the main body of their forces immediately, as in
directly to weaken it by wasting its very soul."
"Now," adds the saint, "there all our resistance
210 THE LIFE OF OUR
is required, where necessity urges most, where the
weight of war hangs heaviest, where the battle is
the warmest, and the combat most pressing."
Again he adds : "This is the great grace of God
to his Church ; this his mercy toward his servants ;
this his regard for his elect, that covering her left
wing to spare and connive at its weakness, he heads
and supports her right ; hence the prophet, in the
person of the Church, says : * I took care to have
the Lord always before me, for he is at my right
hand that I may not be moved.' : — Ps. xv. And
again: "O good Jesus! be thou always on my
right ; take hold of my right hand, for I know that
no adversary can affect me, if no iniquity sways me.
Let my left be harassed and mutilated ; let it be as
sailed with injuries and aggravated with insults :
I willingly sacrifice it, so I be under your custody
and protection, so that you stand at my right hand."
And elsewhere, "It is one thing," says he, "to
be actuated by virtue, another to be ruled by wis
dom : it is one thing to be absolute in virtue, another
to be delighted in sweetness. For though wisdom
be powerful and virtue sweet, yet, to give words
their true meaning, vigor belongs properly to virtue ;
and serenity of soul, with a kind of spiritual sweet
ness, is the certain mark of wisdom. And this
I believe the apostle meant, when after many fine
counsels relating to virtue, he adds, ' that wisdom
consists in sweetness in the Holy Spirit.' To resist
then, to repel force with force, which are prop
erties strictly belonging to virtue, are undoubtedly
attended with real honor : but that honor a very
laborious one. For there is a great difference between
the painful defence of their honor and the quiet
possession of it. In short, to be actuated by virtue,
and to be in full enjoyment of virtue, are two things.
LORD JESUS CHlilAr. 211
Whatever virtue produces, wisdom enjoys: and
what wisdom disposes and resolves, virtue moder
ates, and puts in practice. ' Write wisdom in your
leisure,' says the wise man. — Eccles. xxxviii. The
leisure then of wisdom is business ; and Ine more
wisdom is at leisure, the more active it is in its
proper sphere. On the other side, virtue shines the
brighter for exercise : and to be properly active, is
the proof of virtue. So that if any one should
define wisdom to be the love of virtue, I cannot see
how he would be wrong. For where there is love,
labor becomes sweetness, and therefore, perhaps,
wisdom, which in Latin is sapient i a, takes its
etymology from sapor, relish, as a kind of quality
or ingredient added to virtue, which gives a relish
to that which would otherwise be merely tasteless
and insipid. Nor should I think it amiss to define
wisdom, the relish of good. It belongs then to
virtue," adds the saint, " to bear troubles with forti
tude ; but to wisdom, the rejoicing in tribulations.
To comfort your heart and sustain the Lord, is the
part of virtue ; but to taste and see that the Lord is
sweet, is that of wisdom. And that the properties
of both may the better appear from nature itself, let
it suffice to observe, that modesty of mind is a
certain proof of wisdom, as constancy is of virtue.
And right it is that wisdom should follow virtue,
since virtue is a kind of solid foundation on which
wisdom raises the superstructure."
In another place, he says, "Happy the man who
directs the sufferings and passions with a view of jus
tice, so as to bear all he suffers for the Son of God,
without complaining at heart, but with praise and
thanksgiving. He who carries himself thus, properly
takes up his bed and walks. Our bed is our body,
in which before we were languishing, subservient to
212 THE LIFE OF OUR
our unruly desires and lawless appetites. We then
take up this bed when we compel it to obey the spirit."
"Thespirit," says the same saint, "is truly manifold
which inspires, so many different ways, the children
of men in such a manner, that no one can abscond,
or screen himself from its heat. Insomuch that it is
given them for their use, for miracles, for salvation,
for help, for comfort, and for fervor in devotion.
For the use of life it is given to the good and bad ;
and yields alike to the worthy and the unworthy
abundance of advantages, without any limits prefixed
to it : and therefore he would be highly ungrate
ful, who should deny or not acknowledge these
benefits of the spirit. It is given for miracles, in
the many signs, prodigies, and wondrous virtues
it operates by the hands of some. It was the spirit
operated so many marvellous works in antiquity,
and which confirms our faith in old miracles, by the
daily new ones it manifests to us. But as the gift
of miracles is not always useful to the operator of
them, therefore the spirit is likewise given to salva
tion, as when, with all our heart, we turn to the
Lord our God. It is given for help, when, in the
midst of our struggles with trials of trouble, it assists
our weakness. And, when the spirit gives testimony
to our spirit that we are the children of God, that
inspiration is given us for our comfort. Finally,
the spirit is given for fervor, when breathing strongly
into the hearts of the perfect, it kindles a powerful
flame of divine charity, by the means of which, in
the hope of the children of God, we glory in tribula
tions, deem scandal an honor to us, rejoice in the in
juries done us, and are transported with pleasure
when loaded with contempt. To all of us then the
spirit is given for salvation, but not alike for fervor.
There are but few replenished with this spirit ; but
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 213
very few, who covet and pursue it. We are content
with our own narrowness ; and neither labor to
breathe the breath of liberty, nor even so much as
aspire to it." Thus far St. Bernard.
You have seen then, gentle reader, the many and
beautiful reasons which the saint gives, to show how
necessary afflictions are for us. Wonder not, then,
that our Saviour should suffer his disciples, whom he
loved so tenderly, to be harassed with tempests,
tears, and afflictions, since you see the great useful
ness of them. We frequently read of their being
agitated with storms and contrary winds, but never
read of their being once shipwrecked. Which ough t
to serve you as a lesson to stand firm, patient and
cheerful, amidst the contradictions and trials you
may meet with : and so to exercise yourself in the
practice of the spirit, as, filled with its fervor, to
covet sufferings for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ,
who chose this way for himself and his followers,
and was the first to tread it before us.
214
TWS LIFE OF OUR
THE WOMAN OF CANAAN ENTREATS JESUS 7N iiEKALF OF*
DAUGHTER.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
CHRIST RELIEVES THE DAUGHTER OF THE WOMAN OP
CANAAN, WHO WAS POSSESSED WITH THE DEVIL :
AND HOW OUR ANGEL GUARDIANS FAITHFULLY
ASSIST US.
AS our Lord Jesus was going about exercising
in the most laborious manner the functions of
preaching, and curing the infirm, there came to him
a woman of Canaan, of the race of the Gentiles, be-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 215
seeching him to heal her daughter, who was pos
sessed with the devil. This woman's faith was so
great, that she firmly believed, and without hesita
tion, that he could do it. Notwithstanding our Lord
at first made her no answer, she persisted, and con
tinued to cry out, and to beg of him to have mercy
on her : insomuch, that his disciples, compassionat
ing her cries, earnestly entreated him in her behalf.
And, when our Lord at length made answer, that
"it was not good to take the bread of the children,
and to cast it to the dogs;" she, with profound
humility, replied, "that the dogs also eat of the
crumbs that fall from the table of their masters."
Wherefore, she was thought worthy to be heard,
and was granted what she petitioned for.
Consider here our Lord Jesus and his disciples,
and have recourse to the general heads of meditation,
as I have before prescribed to you. Reflect, how
ever, at the same time, on the virtues of this woman,
and endeavor to profit by them, which were chiefly
three. The first was, her great faith, which even ex
tended to her daughter, and for which she was
praised by our Lord. The second was, her per
severing prayer ; for she was not only persevering
but importunate : which importunity is also accept
able to God, as I have before showed you. The
third was, her profound humility ; for she neither
denied herself to be included in the comparison
which our Lord made, nor thought herself worthy
to be reckoned among his children, or to have the
bread itself, but was content to receive the crumbs
alone. She greatly humbled herself, and therefore
obtained what she sought for. The same will hap
pen to you if, with a sincere, pure, and faithful
mind, persevering in prayer, you humble yourself
before God, esteeming yourself unworthy to receive
216 THE LIFE OF OUR
any good from him, you may then assuredly expect
to obtain what you ask for. And as the apostles
interceded for the Cananean woman, so will your
angel guardian intercede for you, and offer up your
prayers to the Almighty. Upon this head hear St.
Bernard : .
" Often when my soul has been sighing, praying,
and tormenting itself with anxiety for its heavenly
spouse, and that the dearly desired, and so much
sought after, has, in his own mercy, condescended to
meet her, I thought she might, from her own expe
rience, repeat that sentence of Jeremiah : ' Thou
art good, O Lord, to such as hope in thee, to the soul
which seeks thee.' The very angel who accompanies
our heavenly spouse, is the previous minister of the
secret salutation ; with what joy, with what delight,
with what transport, turning to our Lord, does he
say : ' I render thanks to thee, O Lord of Majesty ;
because thou hast given him his heart' s desire, and
hast not withholden the request of his lips.' — Ps. xx.
He it is who sedulously, and in every place, as
a constant pursuer of the soul, never ceases to
admonish it by continual suggestions, saying :
' Delight thyself in the Lord, and he will give thee
the desires of thy heart.' And again: 'Wait on
the Lord, and keep his ways. Though he tarry,
wait for him, because he will surely come, he will
not tarry.'— Hob. ii. And to the Lord he says : 'As
the hart panteth after the fountains of water, so
my soul panteth after thee, O God.'-— P*. xli,
'He hath desired thee in the night, and thy spirit
in the inmost recess of his heart. From the morn
ing he hath watched unto thee.' And again : 'The
whole day he hath stretched out his hands unto thee.
Dismiss him. for he crieth after thee. Return, O
Lord, and vouchsafe to give ear. Look down from
LOUD JESUS CHRIST. 217
Heaven and behold and visit the forsaken.' The
faithful paranympli, who is conscious, without envy,
of the natural love between the soul and her spouse,
seeks not anything for himself, but only the glory
of his Lord. He passe th mutually between the
heavenly spouse and his beloved, offering her vows,
and bringing his gifts, exciting her to love, and
moving him to mercy. Sometimes also, though
seldom, he renders them present to himself ; either
attracting her, or inviting him, for he is familiarly
known in the sacred mansion of Heaven, nor fears
a repulse, as he sees daily the face of the heavenly
Father." Thus far St. Bernard,
218
T11L LIFE OF OUH
LU1UJ JtitiUiS (JURIST. 219
In chapter XXXV, in.
THE PHARISEES, AND OTHERS, SCANDALIZED AT THE
WORDS OF OUR LORD JESUS.
WE ought never to wonder that some take occa
sion of scandal at our words and actions,
though they be ever so grjd and perfect; seeing
that this often befell our Lord himself, who could
not err in word or deed. For it happened at a cer
tain time that the Pharisees asked our Lord, why
his disciples did not wash their hands before they
ate? Our Lord answered and reproved them for
having more regard to the outward cleanliness of
the body, than the inward purity of the soul. At
which answer they were scandalized; but our Lord
regarded them not.
At another time, as he was teaching in the syn
agogue, some of his disciples, being too worldly-
minded, did not understand him, and went away.
But to his chosen twelve he said, "Will ye also go
away?" Peter, in the name of the rest, answered:
* ' To whom shall we go \ Thou hast the words of
eternal life." Consider him in these and the like
things ; how he speaks with authority, and teaches
with true doctrine, having no regard to the scandal
of the weak and simple : wherefore we must observe,
first, that we are not to depart from the virtue of jus
tice on account of another being scandalized. Sec
ondly, that we ought to be more careful for the
inward purity of our hearts, than solicitous for the
220 TIIE LIFE OF OUR
outward cleanliness of the body, which our Lord, in
another place, more expressly recommends, saying,
in St. Luke, that "we must live according to the
spirit:" so that the words of our Redeemer should
not seem strange to us, as they did to those disciples
who, when he said in St. John, "Unless you eat the
flesh of the Son of Man," etc, could not bear to hear
them ; and therefore, being scandalized, departed
from him, but we should rather acknowledge them
to be the words of eternal life ; that, together with
the twelve that remained with him, we may endeavor
perfectly to imitate him.
In chapter XXXIX, THE REWARD PROMISED BY OUR LORD JESUS TO THOSE
WHO FORSAKE ALL FOR HIM.
ST. PETER, the prudent and faithful disciple of
our Lord, on a certain occasion asked him, in
the name of the rest of his brethren the a postles, what
reward they should have who had quitted the world,
and all things in it, for the love of him. Our Lord,
amongst other things, answered, "That they who
should forsake all worldly things to follow him, should
receive a reward of a hundred-fold in this world, and
life everlasting in the next." Consider well the
greatness of this reward, exult with the utmost joy,
and render praise and thanksgiving to God, who has
placed thee in a state to negotiate so advantageously
for thyself as to be able to gain a hundred for one,
and, withal, eternal life. This hundred-fold, how
ever, is not to be understood of temporal things, but
of spiritual ones only ; that is, of inward consolation,
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 221
and heavenly virtues, which we shall prove by ex
perience, and not acquire by knowledge. For when
the soul begins to have a true relish for the virtues of
poverty, charity, patience, and other Christian perfec
tions, and takes pleasure and delight in the constant
practice of them, may it not be truly said of her,
that she has received a hundred-fold ? And if at
length she still rises to more sublime degrees of per
fection, so as frequently to partake of the inward
visits of her divine and heavenly spouse, may it
not be again affirmed with truth, that she has re
ceived a thousand fold for all, whatever it may be,
that she has given up for his sake ? You see then
the veracity of the words which were uttered by
Eternal Truth, who never fails even in this world,
to reward the soul that is truly devoted to him with
an hundred-fold, and this not once, but frequently ;
affecting it often with so deep a sense of his divine
love as to make it esteem as the merest dirt every
thing it has forsaken, and the whole world itself,
for the sake of obtaining possession of its divine and
heavenly spouse. But that you maybe more amply
instructed in relation to this hundred fold gift of the
gospel, and may reap more benefit from it, hear
what St. Bernard says on that head: "If any
one," says he, " should say, show me the hundred
fold that is promised, and I will freely quit all
things of this life to obtain it. But why should I
show it ? Since faith, which has human reason for
its voucher, can have no merit. Will you sooner
give credit to the evidence of man than believe the
promises of God ? You err by diving too deeply into
the hidden mysteries 01 the Lord. Unless you be
lieve, you cannot understand. It is a hidden
manna ; and in the apocalypse of St. John, a new
name is promised that shall overcome : a name
222 THE LIFE OF OUR
which no one knows but he that receives it." And
again he says : "Does he not possess all things to
whom all things are turned to good ? Has he not
received a hundred-fold who is filled with the Holy
Ghost, and possesses Christ in his breast ? Or rather,
shall we not say, that the visitation of the Holy
Ghost, and the presence of Jesus Christ, far ex
ceed the hundred-fold gift of any other thing?
* Oh ? how great is the multitude of thy sweetness,
which thou hast laid up for those that fear thee,
which thou hast wrought for them that trust in thee !'
saith the royal Psalmist. — Ps. xxx. Observe here
how the soul breaks forth into the remembrance, of
the abundance of spiritual sweetness, and how, in
endeavoring to express herself, she multiplies her
words. 'How great,' saith she, 'is the multitude,'
etc. This hundred-fold, therefore, is the adoption
of children, the freedom and first-fruits of the spirit,
the delight of charity, the glory of a good con
science, and the kingdom of God which is within
us. It consists not in meat or drink, but in the jus
tice, peace, and joy of the Holy Ghost. A joy
indeed, not in the hopes of a future glory, but rather
in the present suffering of tribulations. This is
that fire which Christ would have vehemently to be
enkindled. This is the virtue which made St.
Andrew so cheerfully embrace the cross he was to
die on, St. Lawrence despise the butcheries of his
cruel tyrants, and which made St. Stephen, at his
death, pray for those who stoned him. This is that
peace which Christ left to those that should follow
him, for it is 'a gift, and peace to the elect cf God.'
It is the peace of the father, and a gift of future
glory. It exceeds all sense, and is not to be com
pared with anything under the heavens, or whatever
is desirable in this world. This is the plentiful
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 223
grace of devotion, and the holy unction teaching us
all those things, which they prove who have experi
enced them, and they who have not experienced are
ignorant of." Thus far St. Bernard.
Rejoice then, and be glad, and as I have said
before, render thanks to God, that he has called
you to receive this hundred-fold, and invited you
to enter often into the paradise of joy, which by
the study and exercise of prayer, you may hope to
obtain.
CHAPTER XL.
OUR LORI JESUS ASKS HIS DISCIPLES WHAT THE JEWS
SAY OF HIM.
AS our blessed Lord was coming into the quarters
of Csesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples what
the Jews said of him, and likewise, whom they
thought him to be, and other things. Some of them
answered, and said : "Some take you for John the
Baptist, others for Elias, and others for Jeremiah,
or one of the Prophets." But Peter, for himself
and the rest, answered : "Thou art Christ, the Son
of the living God." And our Lord said to him:
"Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my
Church, and the gates of Hell shall not prevail
against it." At the same time he gave him the keys
of Heaven, the power to loose or bind upon earth.
Behold here, then, pious reader, our Lord and his
disciples, and contemplate them according to the
general rules before given you. And observe, more
over, that Peter, whom Christ so exalted above the
rest, was a little after called Satan by the same
Christ, because through the too great attachment
which Peter had to the visible presence of Christ's
224
THE LIFE OF OUR
humanity, lie endeavored to dissuade him from suf»
fering, and from going through his passion. Do you
likewise follow the example of Christ, and esteem
them to be your enemies, who endeavor to draw you
from the practice of spiritual exercises, for the sake
of any temporal good or corporal gratification.
THE TRANSFIGURATION.
In chapter XLI, THE GLORIOUS TRANSFIGURATION OF OUR LORD JESUS
</!Sr MOUNT TABOR.
OUR Lord Jesus, desirous to strengthen his apos
tles in the steadfast belief, both of his divinity
and humanity, first showed them that he was perfect
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 225
man, by living among them as a man ; and that he
was also perfect God, by the wonderful miracles he
wrought, which far surpassed the power and nature
of a pure man. He had likewise farther told them,
that, as man, he should suffer a most painful and
opprobrious death ; and afterwards rise again glori
ously to life, as he was God. After all this he con
cluded, and said, that there were some of them then
present, who should not see death till they had first
seen the Son of Man, who was himself, coming in his
kingdom ; that is to say, beheld him in his glorious
transfiguration, and saw his sacred humanity re-
splendently shining with a wonderful brightness, as
they should afterwards behold him in his heavenly
glory.
To this purpose, therefore, about eight days after,
he took with him three of his disciples, Peter, James,
and John, and went up to the top of a mountain
called Tabor, and was there transfigured before them ;
that is, he was so altered and changed from his
common appearance, that he put on that beautiful
and glorious form, in which he was to appear seated
in the high throne of Majesty, so that his face and
countenance became bright as the sun, and his gar
ments were as white as snow.
And presently there appeared Moses and Elias
speaking with him concerning his sacred passion,
which he was to undergo in Jerusalem, and said :
"Lord, it is not expedient for thee to die, because
one drop only of thy precious blood is sufficient to
redeem the world." But our Lord Jesus answered,
"The good pastor giveth his life for his sheep : so,
therefore, it behooves me to do." The apostles re
mained ecstatic amidst this glorious vision : and St.
Peter above the rest, being forgetful of all earthly
things, was desirous of remaining therein possession
226 TBB LIV& OF OUR
of that glance of bliss, and therefore said, " Lord,
it is good for us to be here: if thou wilt, let us
make here three tabernacles : one for thee, and one
for Moses, and one for Elias."— John xvii. But as
the holy Evangelist takes notice, "He knew not what
he said " in desiring to continue with our Lord
Jesus in that place of bliss, before he had suffered
that painful death, which he had before told them he
was first to do. The Holy Ghost, likewise appear
ing in the brightness of a cloud, overshadowed him,
and out of the cloud there came a voice from
Heaven, saying, "This is my beloved Son in whom
I am well pleased, .hear ye him." The apostles,
trembling with fear at this voice, fell flat, with their
faces to the ground: but our Lord Jesus raised
them, and bid them not to fear: and lifting up
their eyes, and looking around them, they saw none
but him alone. Contemplate well these passages,
and endeavor to render yourself present, by devout
meditation, to the things already said, because they
contain most great and sublime mysteries.
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
227
THE TKAOElid AMD MUMKY CHANGEKS AKE DKIVEN OUT OF Tilt
TEMPLE.
CHAPTER XL1I.
THE BUYERS AND SELLERS CAST OUT OF THE TEMPLE.
OUR Lord Jesus, at two several times, cast the
buyers and sellers out of the temple ; which
action, of all the miracles he .wrought, seems the
most strange and wonderful. For when he per
formed other miracles among them, in which he
evidently declared the power of his Godhead, those
perverse people, the scribes and Pharisees, blas
phemed and contemned him for them : but at this
228 TIIE LIFE OF OUR
time, though there were great multitudes assembled
together in the temple, they had not power to resist
or withstand him ; while he, with a scourge made
of cords, drove them all out before him. The
reason of this was, that his inward zeal and fervor
being vehemently enkindled in seeing his heavenly
Father so much dishonored, especially in that place
where he ought to have been the most honored and
worshipped, made him appear to them with a ter
rible and dreadful countenance, so that they were
affrighted, and had not power to resist him. Con
sider him here attentively, and compassionate him,
for he is full of compassionate grief: but, at the
same time, fear him. For it is a dreadful example
that ought to be considered by all men ; but more
especially by such as have any office or authority in
the Church of God, and by all religious persons
who are placed in the house of God, to serve him
in devout prayer, and other holy and spiritiml ex
ercises. For if such idly busy themselves, and med
dle with worldly affairs, they may justly fear the
wrath and indignation of God against them, and
apprehend the danger of being cut off from his
grace in this life, and cast out of his eternal glory
in the life to come.
&ORD
229
JBSTJS HEALS THE PAKALTTTC AT THE SHEEP POOI*
In chapter LXIII, THE SICK MAN THAT WAS HEALED AT THE WATER IN
JERUSALEM, CALLED PROBATION PISCINA.
was in the city of Jerusalem a standing
L pool of water, in the nature of a pond, in
which the sheep were washed that were to be offered
in sacrifice. In this place also, according to the
opinion of the Fathers, afterwards lay hidden the
wood of the holy cross. This water was stirred once
230 THE L1FK OF OUR
in eveiy year, by particular appointment of God, by
an angel, and the sick person that first descended
into it after its being stirred was immediately healed
of his infirmity: on which account great numbers
oi' sick people remained continually near the water,
expecting it to be moved by the angel. Among
these there was one lying on his bed, who had been
ill of the palsy thirty eight years, whom our Lord
healed on the Sub bath-day. Here, according to
your usual method, consider how humbly our Lord
approaches the sick man, and speaks to him. For
in this action there are three things worthy of the
greatest attention.
The first is, our Lord Jesus asked the sick person
whether he would be healed or not ? By which we
are given to understand, that our Lord, without our
consent, will not bestow salvation upon us. Where
fore all stubborn and sinful persons, who neither
desire, nor yet will give consent to such internal mo
tions as God inspireth them with for their salvation,
are undoubtedly without excuse. For as St. Augus
tine saith, " He that made thee without thee, cannot
save thee without thee."
The second thing which is to be observed is, that
we ought to be careful after we are freed and cleansed
from sin, not to fall wilfully into it again, lest our
crime, for so doing, should be punished by our Lord
with more severity. Wherefore he said to the sick
man whom he had restored, "Go thy way and sin
no more, lest worse happen unto thee."
The third thing we ought to consider is, that wicked
men usually misconstrue the good works of others,
and look upon them with an evil eye : but good men
do the contrary. For thus the Jews, full of envy,
when they saw the sick man miraculously cured by
our Lord Jesus, and carrying away his bed on the
LOUD JL'SUS cmusr. 231
Sabbath, immediately told him, "That it was not
lawful to do it on that day ;" to whom he answered,
" That he who had made him whole, said to him, take
up thy bed and walk." Before this, they asked him
not wno it was that had healed him, but began to carp
at what displeased them, and what they thought repre
hensible and took no notice at all of the good work
which was commendable and so manifestly wrought
before them. This is the manner of all wicked men,
to turn everything to the worst, which good men
convert to the best. For they who lead a spiritual
life interpret all things in the best manner, to the
honor and glory of God, whether prosperity or adver
sity, knowing that everything which comes to pasa
is through his holy will or permission ; and therefore
judge the best of, and reap thence great increase ol
merit, as St. Bernard teaches, saying, "Pry not too
far into other men's lives, nor rashly judge of their
actions. Think no evil of thy neighbor, but if thou
see anything that is bad, excuse at least his intention
if you cannot his works : imagine the cause to be
ignorance, inadvertency, or an accident. And if his
crimes are beyond all dissimulation, say at least to
yourself, it was the effect of a violent temptation:
had it been as powerful in me what destruction would
it not have wrought ?" Thus far St. Bernard. That
the good reap benefit from all things, even from their
own and other men's sins, from the things most
hurtful, and from the works of the devil himself, the
same saint thus argues : " Though the irrational and
animal part cannot attain to what is spiritual, yet it
must be owned that, by the bodily service it does, it
very much helps those to obtain it, who turn the use
of all temporal and worldly things to the eternal ad
vantage of their souls, by making use of the things
of this life, as if they used them not.7' And again:
232 THE LIFE OF OUR
"Though there are some creatures which are found
not only useless, but inconvenient, and even perni
cious, yet it is certain that they contribute to the good
of temporal and worldly men. For they have ever
something that may turn to the good of those, who,
according to their resolution, are called saints, if not
by affording nourishment or performing their due
office, at least by exercising their mind by the help
of him, who is always ready to those who make use
of their reason, helping them to make a proficiency
in good discipline ; by whom also, ' The invisible
things of God are seen, being understood by those
things which are made.' — Rom. i. In short, he that
has grace enough to take all things in good part, and
to suppose that all which God sends is for the best,
shall be enabled to suffer many trials and tribulations,
with little pain ; and by daily exercise obtain at
length so great a peace and tranquillity of mind, that
seldom or never anything shall offend or molest him,
but that shall be verified in him, which the wise may
saith, 'Whatever shall happen to the just man it
shall not make him sorry.' " — Prov. xii.
LORD JfiSUS CHRIST.
233
JESUS IK THE HOUSE OK MARTHA AKD MARY.
CHAPTER XLIV.
OUB LORD JESUS RECEIVED BY THE TWO SISTERS, MARY
AND MARTHA ; AND OF THE TWO SORTS OF LIVES
SIGNIFIED THEREBY.
IT happened on a certain time, that our Lord Jesus
went with his disciples to the city of Bethania, to
a house named the castle of Martha and Mary. And
^they, whose love and affections were wholly placed
in him, were exceeding glad at his coming, and re-
feeived him with all possible joy and respect. Martha,
234 THE LIFE OF OUR
the eldest sister, who had the care and government of
the house, went immediately to provide meat for him
and his disciples, but Mary her sister, forgetting as
it were, all corporal food, and desiring to feed her
soul with the fervent love of her dear Saviour Jesus,
sat herself on the ground, beside his feet. And as
our Lord, who was never idle, was talking according
to his usual custom, of those things which regard
eternal life, she, with her heart and thoughts fixed
on him, attentively listened to his blessed words, and
took a pleasure beyond expression, in the exposition
of his heavenly doctrine. Martha, who was busy in
making ready the provision for our Lord and his dis
ciples, seeing her sister sitting idly as it were at his
feet, was troubled at it, and therefore complained to
our Lord, and begged him to bid her sister to rise
and help her.
Mary, at the voice of her sister, awakened as it were
from the depth of a sweet sl^ep, and fearing she
would be deprived of that sweet contentment and
quiet repose in which her soul was being, always
obedient to the will of God, said nothing, but rev
erently bowing down her face to the ground, humbly
waited to hear what our Lord would say to her. Our
Lord answering in her behalf, said unto Martha :
"Martha, Martha, thou art careful and art troubled
about many things : but one thing is necessary.
Mary hath chosen the better part, which shall not
be taken away from her."
At this answer of our Lord Jesus, Mary was greatly
comforted, and sat with more confidence at his sacred
feet, pursuing with perseverance her former pur
pose. But at length, when all was ready for his re
fection, and he had done speaking, she arose, fetched
water to wash his hands, and remaining there present.
diligently served him with all things he wanted.
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 335
Consider here attentively, pious reader, our Lord
entering this house, and with what extreme joy they
receive him, together with all that passed as before-
mentioned, because thence you may gather most
beautiful matter for your devout meditation.
You must know then, that by these two sisters, the
Holy Fathers understand two different states of life,
the one active, the other contemplative. To treat of
these would be a subject of great extent, but though
I am convinced that it is not necessary to dwell long
upon it, I will, nevertheless, say something on that
head : first, because St Bernard in many places has
largely treated of it ; and secondly, because it is a
subject most useful, full of all spiritual comfort, and
very necessary. According to this two fold manner
of living we all proceed, but how we ought to act, is
a matter we are ignorant of ; which is unfortunate
and dangerous, especially to men of religious lives.
The active kind of life is emblematically repre
sented in Martha : which active life itself is divisible
into two parts. The first is, that by which every one
acts chiefly for his own good ; correcting, mending,
and improving himself in virtue ; and next for the
good of his neighbor, by works of justice, piety, and
charity. The second is, that by which a man is led,
though for greater merit's sake, to exercise himself
chiefly for his neighbor's advantage, in governing,
teaching, and forwarding the conversion of souls : as
prelates and preachers do. Between these two parts
of active life is the contemplative ; and it is disposed
in this manner, that every one do exercise himself,
first in prayer, sacred studies, and other good deeds
and offices of life, with an intention to correct his
own vices and acquire virtues ; secondly, that he rest
in contemplation, seeking solitude, and conversation
apart with God ; and, thirdly, that by both exercises
236 THE LIFE OF OUR
inspired and enlightened with true wisdom and good
ness, and thence become zealous, give himself up to
the salvation of others.
CHAPTER XLV.
OUR LORD WARNS THE JEWS THAT THE CHURCH
. SHALL DEVOLVE ON THE GENTILES, IN THE
PARABLE OF THE HUSBANDMEN WHO KILLED THE
SON OF THEIR LORD.
OUR Lord, zealous for the salvation of the souls
for which he was come to pay down the ran
som of life, tried by every means to draw them to
himself, and to deliver them from the jaws of sin
and Satan. Sometimes, therefore, he made use of the
most gentle and insinuating means ; and at others
of severe and terrifying reproofs : sometimes he re
curred to similitudes, sometimes to signs and
wonders ; now to prophecies, and anon to threats :
thus varying the means and manner of cure, accord
ing to the place and time, and the diversity of
persons.
In this place he reproves the princes and Pharisees,
with severe language, which, however, was so justly
applied, that they took it to themselves. He pro
posed to them the parable of the husbandmen, who
killed their lord's messengers, sent to them to demand
payment of the fruits due to him, and asked what
punishment was due to such unworthy tenants ; they
replied, their lord must destroy the wretches, and let
his vineyard to other husbandmen. Jesus, therefore,
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 237
approving their answer, replied to them : the king
dom of God, that is the Church, shall be taken from
t»-
among you : and shall be given to another people,
who will cultivate it : that is, to the Gentiles : of
whom we and the whole church are descended To
this he added the example of the corner-stone, which
signified himself, who was to overthrow Judaism.
Upon which, finding themselves to be the persons
meant, instead of reforming, they became more ex
asperated, and quite blinded with malice.
In chapter XLVl, THE JEWS SEEK TO ENSNARE OUR SAVIOUR BY HIS
OWN WORDS.
AS our Lord Jesus neglected no means that might
conduce to the salvation of the Jews, so, on the
contrary, the Jews omitted none to calumniate and
destroy him. They thought, therefore, to deceive
him. biit they deceived themselves with their own
devices. They sent to him some of their own dis
ciples, accompained by the servants of Herod, to
inquire whether it was lawful for them to give tribute
to Caesar ? By this means, they hoped to bring him
under the suspicion of Caesar and his friends, or ren
der him at least odious to the Jews, believing he could
not answer but against himself. But the all-wise
searcher of hearts, seeing their malice, answered
them, that they must give to Caesar his own and to
God his due ; and told them withal, that they were
hypocrites who concealed under fair words a mali-
238 THE LIFE OF OUR
cious pi; 1 1 ( -se. Thus disappointed in their fraudulent
intentions, they returned with shame.
Here consider attentively our Lord Jesus, accord
ing to the general method of contemplation I laid
down for you ; and reflect likewise, that Christ will
not allow us to defraud temporal princes and magis
trates of their just rights, whether good or bad, be
lievers or unbelievers. Wherefore, it is a great sin
to refuse payment of the customs and taxes, which
our temporal superiors think proper to lay on us for
the good of the state.
In chapter XLVII, THE BLIND MAN RESTORED TO SIGHT AT JERICHO, ETC.
THE bountiful Lord Jesus, who, out of his im
mense love for us, came down from his divine
Father's throne to accomplish our salvation, pre
pared to set out for Jerusalem, to meet his approach
ing passion, which he had even at this time foretold
to them, but they were too blind in their obstinacy to
understand him. When, therefore, he drew near to
Jericho, a certain blind man, who sat on the way beg
ging, having intelligence from the populace of his pas-
ing by, began to cry powerfully to him for pity. And
though themultituderebuked him, they could neither
dismay nor silence him. The Lord Jesus, therefore,
out of regard to his faith and fervor, ordered him to
be brought to him, and asked him, "What wilt thou
that I do unto thee ?" — To whom the blind man an
swered, "Lord, that I see:" — which our compassion-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 239
ate Lord granted saying, " See :" — and thus saying,
restored him to sight. Consider here attentively, de
vout reader, the graciousness of our Lord : and at the
same time reflect on the great efficacy of prayer, at
tended with faith and perseverance. Importunity in
prayer, you see, does not displease God, but is rather
agreeable to him. You have already an instance of this
in the Cananean, and elsewhere, and another in the
man who obtained the loaves by night through the im
portunity of prayer. And thus does the Lord grant to
all who importune him their just and orderly peti
tions. For it is to every one alike he says : "What
wilt thou that I do to thee?" — Nay, he often grants
.even more than is asked, as we shall see in the person
of Zacheus. Ask, then, like the blind man, without
blushing. For why should you blush to serve Gfod, to
throw off sin, or to ask the graces necessary for either.
To be bashful, is sometimes a virtue, but may often
times be a great fault, as St. Bernard observes :
"There is a shame to sin, and a shame to glory.
It is a good shame to blush at the thought of sinning
or having sinned. And though no human witness be
by, you ought with so much the more modesty to
revere the presence of a divine one, as you are truly
convinced by how much he surpasses man in purity,
and that he is as heinously offended at sin as he is
distant from it. Such a kind of shame may boldly
bid defiance to reproach, and paves a way to glory,
by not admitting sin, or at least by repenting of and
atoning for it, if committed. But should we be
ashamed or grieved to make acknowledgment of our
faults ; such a shame is to sin, and deviates widely
from glory. For the evil which compunction would
fain expel from the heart, this false, this foolish
shame, the binder of all lips, suffer not to be banished
from it. O sovereign kind of victory to yield to the
240 THE
divine Majesty ; and t« find no reluctance in submit
ting to the authority of his Church ! O strange per
versity, not to blush at defiling, and yet to blush at
cleansing your feet." Thus far St. Bernard.
Whatever may occur to your imagination concern
ing this blind man, is alike applicable to those other
two blind men whom our Lord enlightened at his
going forth from Jericho, as he did this before his
entrance into that city. Of the two former, see St.
Matthew, chap, xx., and St. Mark, chap, x., where
the name of one of them is mentioned : and that
upon their crying out, as this poor man did, they
received the same answer, and were cured by our
Lord.
0RD JESUS CHRIST.
241
ZACHEUS CLIMBS TJP INTO THE STCAMORE TREE.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
OITR LOED GOES INTO THE HOUSE OF ZA CHEFS.
WHEN our Lord Jesus, at his entry into Jericho,'
was passing through the streets, Zacheus, the
chief of the publicans, who was informed of his ap
proach, and very desirous to see him, but could not
for the throng : at length, being a very little man,
he got up into a sycamore tree that he might at least
behold him thence. — Jesus therefore, knowing and
accepting his faith and desire, said to him, " Zacheus,
242 THS LIFS OF OUR
make haste and come down, for I must this day abide
in thy house." He immediately came down, received
him with great joy and reverence, and prepared
for him a noble repast. Here you see, Christian
reader, the gracious courtesy of our blessed Saviour,
who grants Zacheus so much more than he presumed
to hope for, or ask. He sought a sight of him, and
Jesus gave him himself. Such is the power of
prayer ! And the desire is such 1 Nay, it is a loud
voice, and an effectual petition. Wherefore says the
Psalmist, "The Lord hath granted the desire of the
poor, and thy ear hath heard the preparation of
their heart." And at the time when Moses wai
silent with his lips, and speaking only in his heart,
the Lord said to him, ' ' Why do you cry aloud to
me?" — Exod. xiv. Contemplate here our divine
Lord, graciously sitting at table with Zacheus,
amidst a company of sinners, and familiarly con
versing with them, in order to gain them over to
himself. Behold, likewise, the disciples, sitting with
the same sinners, and conversing with, and encour
aging them tc good works: knowing it to be the
will of their divine master.
CHAPTER XLIX.
OHEIST GIVES SIGHT TO THE MAN BORN BLIND.
WHEN" our Lord went to Jerusalem he saw a
man that was born blind, whose name was
CaBlidonius : and stooping down, he made paste of
earth with his spittle, with which he anointed his
eyes, and sent him to the pool called Siloe, to bathe.
The man went, bathed his eyes, and received his
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 243
sight. This miracle, which was strictly examined
into by the Jews, turned to their confusion. — See
the story in the gospel, where it is plainly and beau
tifully related. Behold her*1 our Lord Jesus, and
contemplate him according to the general rules al
ready laid down to you. Here, too, consider the
great gratitude of the cured man, who courageously
and resolutely defends our divine Lord before the
very princes and rulers of tne Jews, without spar
ing them in any way, even before he had the bless
ing of seeing our Lord. The virtue of gratitude is
extremely commendable and pleasing in the sight
of God, as its opposite is a detestable vice before
him. Of which subject, thus speaks St. Bernard :
"Learn to be thankful for every grace received.
Consider diligently the favors heaped upon you,
that no gift of God be defrauded of the due return
of gratitude and thanksgiving you ought to make,
whether the gift be great, middling, or little. Lastly,
we are directed to gather the fragments, lest they
perish : that is, not to suffer the least benefit be
stowed upon us to be forgotten. But does not that
perish which is conferred upon the ungrateful ? In
gratitude is the soul's worst enemy ; it is the de
stroyer of merit, the disperser of virtues and the
exterminator of all good. Ingratitude is a burning
gale, which dries up the very spring1 of piety, the
dew of mercy, and the stream of grace."
£14
LOUD JESUS OSSIST. 345
CHAPTER L.
OTTR LORD RETREATS FROM THE TEMPLE TO HIDE
HIMSET/F WHEN THE JEWS WOULD HAVE STONED
HIM.
WHEN" our Lord Jesus was preaching one day
in the temple, he said, among other things,
"If any one keeps my word, he shall never taste
death." The Jews answered him, "You are then
greater than our father Abraham who died?" To
which our Saviour replied, "Before Abraham was
made, I am." Which the Jews taking for an impos
sibility, and an untruth, took stones to stone him.
But he retired out of the temple and hid himself ; for
as yet the hour of his passion was not come. Be
hold, then, with concern, how the Lord of all is con
temptuously treated by his vile, unworthy creatures,
and how meekly he gives way to their fury, retreats
amidst the crowd, and, with his disciples, patiently
and modestly withdraws from the effects of their
rage, like the weakest among them.
In chapter LL, THE JEWS SEEK A SECOND TIME TO STONE HIM.
A NOTHER time, at the feast of the dedication
<£*• of the temple, our Lord being in Solomon's
porch, was surrounded by these ravenous wolves,
who, grinning with their teeth, said, "If thou art
216 THE LIFE OF OUR
Christ, tell us openly?" To whom the most meek
and patient Lamb of God answered humbly, " I tell
you so ; but you do not believe me." Behold here,
then, this affecting scene. He speaks to them with
humble affability ; and they, with brutal noise and
fury, disturb and molest him, and at length, not able
to contain the venom in their breasts, take stones to
throw at him. Nevertheless, our Lord spoke to
them in engaging words, saying, "I have done many
good things amongst you ; for which of them is it
that you would stone me." "Because," say they,
" you being a man, would make yourself a God."
Observe their unaccountable stupidity. They would
know whether he is Christ, and when he proves it
to them by words and actions, they want to stone
him, without being able to produce one excuse why
they cannot or ought not to believe him to be what
he really is. But as his hour was not yet come, he
got safe out of their hands, and retired to that part
of Jordan where John had baptized, which is dis
tant from Jerusalem about eighteen miles. Behold
then our Saviour, and consider him and his disciples
under this affliction, and mentally compassionate
them with all the tenderness you are master of.
248
THE LIFE OF OUR
LGIW jEbUb cMJtiar. 349
CHAPTER LIT.
THE RAISING OF LAZAKUS.
THIS miracle is a famous one, very solemn, and
worthy to be meditated on with the utmost
devotion. Wherefore, endeavor to render yourself
as present in mind to all that is here said, as if you
had actually been present when it happened ; and
freely converse, and not only with our Lord Jesus
and his disciples, but with all this blessed family,
so devoted to and beloved by our Lord, that is,
Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. Lazarus therefore
being dangerously ill, and at the point of death, his
sisters, who were very intimate with Christ, sent to
him to the place whither he had retreated beyond
Jordan, saying, "Our brother Lazarus, whom you
love, is sick." — They sent him no further message,
either because they thought that sufficient to a
friend, and an understanding one ; or else because
they dared not invite him, knowing that the chiefs
of the Jews were laying snares for his life. Our
Lord Jesus hearing the news, remained silent for two
days ; and then, among other things, said to his
disciples, Lazarus is dead ; and I rejoice for your
sakes, that I was not there. Observe the goodness,
love, and diligence of our Lord, with relation to his
disciples. They returned then, and came near to
Bethany. Martha, as soon as she was informed of
it. ran to meet him, and falling at his feet, said,
" Lord, if you had been here, my brother had not
250
THE LIFE OF OUR
died." — Onr Lord answered, that he should arise,
and thence they began to talk of the resurrection.
Then he sent for Mary, for whom he had a special
love ; who no sooner knew of it, than she arose, and
came to him with haste, and falling at his feet said
the same thing. Our Lord, seeing his beloved af
flicted and in tears, could not refrain from tears him
self, but wept with her. Behold him, then, with the
devout women and his disciples weeping; and be
moved with the tenderness of the affecting scene.
After awhile, our Lord asked them, "Where have
you put him ?" — Not that he did not know ; but be
cause, as he was talking to human creatures, he spoke
to them in a human manner. They answered him,
" Lord, come and see." — And they led him to the
sepulchre ; whither he proceeded between the two
devout females, comforting and condoling with
FRBSENT CONDITION OF THE TOMB WHERE JLAZARU8 WAS BURIED.
them, till they were so consoled as almost to forget
and drown all sensations of grief in their attention
to him.
LORD JESUJ CHRIST. 261
When our Lord arrived at the monument, he com
manded the stone to be removed, which Martha
would have dissuaded him from, saying, that the
corpse must smell strong, having been four days dead.
But our Lord would have the stone removed. Which
done, our Lord Jesus, lifting up his eyes towards
heaven, said, "I give you thanks, Father, that you
have heard me : I know indeed that you always hear
me ; but I speak on account of these, that they may
know that you have sent me." —Behold him, then,
devout reader, behold him thus praying, and con
sider his great zeal for the salvation of souls. After
this he cried out with a loud voice, saying, "Lazarus,
come forth." — And he straight came to life, and started
forth from the tomb, but tied as he was when buried.
But the disciples untied him, by Christ's direction.
Lazarus, when he was untied, and with his sisters,
kneeled down, and returned thanks to Jesus for so
great a benefit : after which they conducted him
home. All who were present were extremely aston
ished at what they saw, and made it so public, that
multitudes, from Jerusalem and all parts, came to
see Lazarus : insomuch, that the princes of the Jews,
thinking themselves confounded, formed designs
against his life.
2r>2
THE LTFE OF OUR
THE FIG-TREE WHICH HAD NOTHING BUT LEAVES IS CURSED.
CHAPTER LIIT.
CHKIST CURSES THE FIG-TREE.
THOUGH, according to historical narration, the
curse of the fig-tree, and the presenting of the
adulteress in the temple, be thought posterior to
Christ's arrival in Jerusalem, yet. as it seems most
proper after that arrival, to employ our meditations
wholly on the passion, and the circumstances relating
to it, I have inserted these two facts in this place. As
then our Lord Jesus was going towards Jerusalem,
he was hungry, and saw a fig-tree very beautifully
LORD JtitiUti CHRIST.
adorned with branches and foliage. Coming therefore
nigh he beheld it more closely, and finding no fruit
on it, he cursed it, and it withered ; to the great
surprise of his disciples. This was mystically done
by our Saviour, who knew it to be a time not proper
for such trees to bear. Arid he did it to signify the
curse attending on hypocrites and loquacious per
sons, who are like well ornamented trees without
fruit.
In chapter LIV, THE WOMAN DETECTED IN ADULTERY.
THE perverse Pharisees and princes of the Jews
were perpetually watching, and studiously con
triving how to surprise Christ by their frauds and
wiles, and render him odious to the people. But
their arrows were turned against themselves. As
therefore a woman had been caught in adultery, and
was to be stoned according to the law, they brought
her to him into the temple, to enquire of him what
should be done to her : which they did to perplex
him, that if he should direct the law to be fulfilled,
they might cast upon him the odious imputation of
cruelty and want of mercy : or of injustice, if he
should offer to screen her from the law. But our
all- wise Saviour, seeing the snare; and willing to avoid
it, humbly stooped down, and wrote with his finger
on the ground ; the commentators tell us, that what
he wrote was the sins of the accusers, and this writing
was of such efficacy, that every one was able to read
his own sins therein. When, therefore, our Lord
raised himself again, and said to them uLet him
254 TUB LIFE OF OUR
among you who is without sin, throw the first stone,"
they departed, astonished and confounded, although
Christ, when he had pronounced the sentence, was
gracious enough to stoop again, for the sake of his
envious adversaries," to save them from confusion.
And thus did their duplicity evaporate and come to
nothing. After her accusers were gone, our Lord
admonished the woman and dismissed her. Con
template, then, our divine Redeemer in all these cir
cumstances, according to the rule I have prescribed
to you in the beginning of this work.
In chapter LV, THE CONSPIRACY OF THE JEWS AGAINST CHRIST ; AND
HIS FLIGHT INTO THE CITY OF EPHRAIM.
THE time approaching when our Lord Jesus de.
signed to work our redemption by the effusion
of his precious blood, the devil armed his ministers,
and sharpened the malice of their hearts against him,
even to death ; and the good works of our Lord,
especially the raising of Lazarus, but incensed them
the more to envy and rage. Whence, able no longer
to contain their fury, the high priests and Pharisees
held a council, in which Caiphas prophecying, they
deliberated upon killing the most innocent Lamb of
God. O wicked council ! O reprobate guides of the
people, and evil advisers ! Wretches, what are you
about to do? To what excess does your frenzy
transport you ? What a sentence is this ! Where
is the occasion for your murdering the Lord your
God ? Is he not in the midst of you, though you
know him not, searching your reins and hearts?
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 2(55
Bat thus it is expedient that it should be done as
you have desired. His heavenly Father has delivered
him up into your hands, by you he is to be put to
death, but, alas, his death shall not prove serviceable
to you. He indeed shall die and rise again to save
his people, but you shall perish from among his
people.
The resolution of the council was made public, and
our Lord was acquainted with it, but his wisdom,
willing to give way to their wrath, especially as every
thing was not completely fulfilled concerning him, he
went to that side of the country near the desert, to
the city of Ephraim. Thus flies the humble Lord of
the highest heavens, before the face of his most vile
and abject servants. Contemplate here our Lord
Jesus Christ, and his disciples, under the repeated
affliction of a painful and necessitous flight. Medi
tate likewise how our blessed Lady, his immaculate
mother, and her sisters, remained with St. Mary
Magdalen, whom our Lord, before his departure,
consoles with the promise of his speedy retura.
256
THE LIFE OF OUR
LORD JESUS CHRIST 257
CHAPTER LVI.
OUR LOED RETURNS TO BETHANIA, WHERE MARY
MAGDALEN ANOINTS HIS FEET.
AS we have seen that our Lord Jesus for our in
struction used prudence in retreating from dan
ger, to show us, that according to the exigence of
time and place, we ought to decline, with all lawful
caution, the fury of persecutors : so now he makes
use of fortitude, returning of his own accord, when
the due time approaches, that he may meet his pas
sion, and deliver himself up into the hands of his
persecutors. And as before he made use of temper
ance, when he declined the multitude who sought to
make him king, now he exerts his justice, when he
prepares to demand the honors of a king, and that
the people strew branches of palm and olive before
him. But how modestly does he receive this honor,
sitting humbly on an ass ! Our divine master here
made use particularly of these four virtues, prudence,
justice, fortitude and temperance, for our instruction.
They are called cardinal virtues, that is, principal
virtues, because from them all other moral virtues
flow.
Our Lord, then, on the sabbath-day, before his
triumph of palms, returned to Bethania, about two
miles from Jerusalem, where a supper was prepared
for him at the house of Simon the leper, where were
present Lazarus, Martha, and Mary. It was at that
time Mary poured on the head of Jesus a pound of
precious ointment, and anointed his head and feet.
And what she once did in the same house out of con-
258 'WE LIFE OF OUR
trition, she now repeats out of devotion: for she
loved him above all things, and could not be ?-; Uiated
with honoring him.
But the traitor Judas thought a great deal of this,
and murmured at it ; when our Saviour answered for
her, and defended her vigorously. Nevertheless, the
traitor remained so greatly offended at it, that he
from that time took occasion to betray him ; and on
the Wednesday following, sold him for thirty pieces
of silver. Behold then our divine Saviour here sup
ping with his friends, and conversing with them for
his few remaining days, until his passion ; but
chiefly in the house of Lazarus and his sisters, for
that was his usual refuge : there he eat by day, and
there he reposed by night, with his disciples. There
likewise our blessed Lady with his sisters, reposed ;
whom this devout family, and chiefly Magdalen,
honored, reverenced, and attended with constancy
and affection. Behold then this immaculate virgin
mother, struck with excess of fear for her dearly be
loved Son, from whom she was never apart any more
than was absolutely necessary. When our Lord, in
defending Magdalen from the traitor's murmurings,
%aid, "Pouring this ointment on my body, she has
done it for my funeral," think you not that these
words like a dagger, pierced the soul of the blessed
mother? For what could he say more express to
foretell his death ? So all were struck with fear,
and full of anxious and disturbing thoughts : talking
to each other like persons in the utmost confusion
and terror ; none knew what advice to give, or what
to take ; and all were in the utmost terror whenever
he went to Jerusalem, which, however, he did every
day : for from this Saturday to the day of his last
supper, he said many things to the Jews, and wrought
wonders openly in Jerusalem, all which Ijntend to
LORD JESUS CHRIST 259
pass in silence, except his riding on the ass, lest our
meditation be interrupted ; for we are now on the
verge of his passion.
Summon, then, devout reader, all your recollection,
that nothing may distract or divert you from the
solemn mysteries which precede or attend his pas
sion ; be watchful and attentive to the whole and
every circumstance of it, that you may reap the
benefit he designs you by it.
260
THE LIFE OF OUR
JESU8 CHBIST RIDES INTO JERUSALEM.
CHAPTER LVII.
OUB LORD JESUS COMES TO JERUSALEM, ON PALM-
SUNDAY, RIDING UPON AN ASS.
MYSTERIES were daily wrought, and the Scrip
tures fulfilled, by our Lord Jesus ; and the
time drawing nigh, he was desirous of redeeming
mankind, through the bitter passion of his sacred
humanity. Wherefore, on the next Sunday, very
early in the morning, he prepared to go to Jerusa
lem, in a manner he had never gone before, that he
LORD JESUS emu ST. 261
might fulfil the \vords of the prophet, which were
written to that purpose.
When his blessed mother found that he was re
solved to depart, she endeavored earnestly to dis
suade him from if, and with tender affection said,
" My beloved son, whither will you go ? Why will
you go among those whom you know conspire
against you. and seek to kill you? I beseech you
therefor.1 not to go among them." And his disci
ples, and Mary Magdalen, in the same manner en
treated him, and besought him to stay: "Go not
among them, O Lord," say tbey, "we pray you:
since you know they seek your death, and if you
throw yourself into their hands this day, they will
secure you, and execute their wicked purpose." O
how sincerely did they love him, and how sensibly
were they affected at the apprehension of every
thing that might hurt him ! But he who thirsted
ifter the sal ation of man, had disposed it other
wise, wherefore he snid : "It is the will of my
Father that I should go, come ye also, j'ear not, for
he will protect us, ar.d this night we shall return
hither without hurt." And immediately he set out
for his journey, and that small but faithful com
pany followed him.
When he came to a certain place in the way, which
was called Bethphage, he sent two of his disciples to
the city of Jerusalem, and bid them fetch him an ass
and her foal, that were tied in the highway, for the use
of such poor people who had nobenstsof their own.
When they were brought, the disciples bid their own
clothes, upon them, and our Saviour meekly seated
himsel f upon the ass, and riding in that humble man-
ner, came into the city of Jerusalem. Consider him
here attentively, and behold how in this, he reproves
the pomp and glorly of worldly vanity. The beast he
202 THE LIFE OF OUR
rode was not decked with rich furniture : instead of
golden trappings, embossed saddles, and curious
bridles, all the ornaments consisted of poor clothes,
and a hempen halter, though he was " King of kings,
and Lord of lords." Now when the peiple heard
of his coming, through the fame of raising Lazarus
from the dead, they went out to meet him, and re
ceived him as a king, with joyful hymns, and songs :
and showing great tokens of gladness for Ids arrival,
they strewed the ways with boughs and branches
of the trees, and spread their clothes under the ass's
feet as he passed. But notwithstanding this, he
mingled tears with their joy ; for when he beheld
the city, he wept over it, saying, 'If thou hadst
known, and that in this thy day, the things that
are to thy peace : but now they are hidden from
thy eyes. For the days shall come upon thee ; and
thy enemies shall cast a trench about thee and
compass thee round, and straiten thee on every side,
and beat thee flat to the ground, and thy children
who are in thee ; and they shall not leave in thee a
stone upon a stone, because thou hast not known
the time of thy visitation."
It is manifest in scripture, that our Lord Jesus
wept three different times. Once at the death of
Lazarus, to show the wretched state of mankind,
who incurred the pain of death through the offence
of their first parents. Secondly, he wept on this day
for the blindness and ignorance of men, namely,
for the people of Jerusalem, who would not know
the time of their glorious visitation. Thirdly, he
wept in his passion, in beholding the malice and
perversity of man's heart, and considering that his
passion being sufficient for the redemption of all the
world, yet many would not partake of it. Concern-
ing this last weeping. St. Paul in his epistle to the
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 263
Hebrews says this, speaking of the time of his
passion: "Who with a strong cry, and tears were
heard for his reverence." — Heb. v. We are taught
then from sacred text, that Christ wept these three
times. But the holy Church relates that he wept a
fourth time ; that is, in his tender infancy, and
therefore she sings, " The tender infant, as he lies in
the cold manger, shakes and cries." This he did
to conceal from the devil the mystery of the incarna
tion.
Now our Lord Jesus weeping on this day so abun
dantly over Jerusalem, and with so sorrowful a heart,
both for the eternal damnation, and also for the
temporal destruction and ruin of that city, his holy
mother, with all the apostles, could not refrain from
weeping also.
Thus rideth our Lord upon that humble beast,
having, instead of princes, and nobles, his poor dis
ciples about him, together with his mother, and
some other devout women, who both with fear and
reverence devoutly followed him. He entered Jeru
salem in triumph, being honored by all the people,
whose shouts and acclamations put the whole city
in great commotion. Our Lord went first into the
temple, and a second time cast out the buyers and sell
ers. He stood openly in the temple, preaching and
answering the questions of the Scribes and Pharisees
all the day, till it drew towards night. But notwith
standing the great honor which before they had done
him, yet they permitted him and his disciples to
remain the whole day fasting, there being none
among them that invited him to eat or drink. And
when night was come, he went with his disciples to
his homely lodging at Bethania, departing privately
from the city with his small company, who, in the
morning, had entered publicly with such great honor.
THE LIFE OF OUR
Hence we may learn how little regard is to be paid
to worldly honor, which lasteth so short a time, and
so slightly vanisheth away.
CHAPTER LVIII.
WHAT OUR LORD JESUS DID FROM PALM SUNDAY TO
THE THURSDAY FOLLOWING.
OUR Lord Jesus, the fountain of all charity, de
sirous to express both in word and deed the
perfect charity he bore, as well to his enemies as
to his friends, to the end that no one should be lost,
but all might be saved, when the end of his life now
drew near, and the time of his passion was at hand,
labored diligently in preaching the gospel contin
ually to the people; especially on these days, viz.,
Palm Sunday and the Monday and Tuesday following.
On these days he came very early in the morning
into the temple, and preached unto, and taught the
people, and disputed with the Scribes and Phari
sees, answering their subtle questions, by which
they sought to entrap him, and in this manner was
he busied from morning until night.
But as it would be too long to treat in particular
of all that passed during that time, between our
blessed Saviour and the Jews, it being also foreign
to the passion, which we are now to speak of ; there
fore, passing over all the examples and parables he
made use of to reprove and convince them, we will
especially consider how the chief priests and Phar
isees, perceiving the people to be well disposed
towards him, and fearing to execute openly their
malicious designs against him, privately and subtly
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 265
conspired together how they might entrap him in his
words, and accuse him of saying something against
their law, or against paying the tribute to Caesar,
and thence condemn him as worthy of death. But
our Lord, to whom the secrets of all men's hearts
are open, knowing their treachery and malice, an
swered them so wisely, that they were disappointed
in their purpose, and were so much confounded, that
they durst not ask him any more questions. He
then severely reproved the pride, the hypocrisy,
the covetousness, and many other wicked practices
of the Scribes and Pharisees, saying to them :
" Woe be to you, Scribes and Pharisees, who love and
seek after worldly glory." Thus he proceeded, re
buking in many ways their evil lives and their
wickedness, yet nevertheless he commanded the
people to hear and fulfil their doctrine, but not to
follow their wicked example. At length he repeated
their great ingratitude and unkindness towards
him. especially that of the city of Jerusalem, in
somuch as he was often desirous to have gathered
them under his wings, even as a hen doth her
chickens, but they would not, wherefore he fore
warned them of their destruction, both temporal
and eternal, and thus leaving them, went out of
the temple, and with his disciples and many others
of the Jews that believed in him, went to Mount
Olivet, where he taught them how to prepare for
their latter end, and told them of the day of judg
ment, in which the good should be placed at the
right-hand of God in everlasting life, and the wicked
on the left-hand, in perpetual misery and torment.
Thus did our Lord put an end to his public preach
ing to the Jews, on the Tuesday night before his
passion ; after which he said to his disciples in pri
vate, "Know ye, that after two days, the Son of
203
Man shall be betrayed into the hands of sinners to be
crucified." Oh, what a sorrowful speech was this
to all his faithful followers ! But the horrid traitor
Jmlns wns glnd fo he;ir it : nrnl consulted within
JUDAS BARGAINS TO BETRAY HIM FOR THIRTY PIP.CKS 'iK SUAKU.
his heart, by the instigation of the devil, who had
entered into him, how or in what manner by his
death he might satisfy his covetousness. For this
purpose he slept not that night, but early on the
morrow, which was Wednesday morning, when the
chief priests and scribes were assembled together in
the house of Caiphas, Judas went to them, and of
fered, for a reward, to deliver him into their hands.
Wherefore they being glad of the offer, agreed to
give him thirty pence : and thus was the death of
our Redeemer effected through covetousness, treach-
LOIW jdaua uu&iar. 267
ery, and malice. Hence did that wicked traitor re
cover the price of the ointment which before he had
murmured at as lost, and from that time he sought
an opportunity that he might betray him.
This was the wicked doings of the accursed Judas
and the Jews on the Wednesday following. But
what, may we imagine, did our Lord Jesus and his
blessed company ? He went not into Jerusalem, nor
appeared publicly among the Jews on that day, but
spent, his whole time in prayer, and armed himself
for the redemption of mankind, which he came to
accomplish ; praying not only for his friends that be
lieved in him and loved him, but also for his pro
fessed enemies ; fulfilling now in himself the holy
perfection of charity, which before he had taught his
disciples, in bidding them to pray for their enemies,
and for those that should persecute and hate them.
Our Lord Jesus knowing the malice of Judas, this
wicked traitor, and also how the Jews were bent
against him, prayed to his heavenly Father for them.
And as it was the last day that he was to dwell and
converse so familiarly with his holy Mother and his
apostles, he comforted them with his holy word, as
he was wont to do ; but he did it the more especially
now, to strengthen them against the great sorrows
they were to suffer at his passion. And he comforted
his blessed Mother and St. Mary Magdalen in a more
particular manner, who continually thirsted to drink
in the fountain of his holy grace, of which may
he, of his infinite bounty and love, make us all
partakers.
268
THE LIFE OF
JESUS INSTITUTES THE HOLY SACRIFICE OF THK NEW LAW.
CHAPTER LIX.
OUR LORD'S SUPPER THE NIGHT BEFORE THE PASSION :
AND OF MANY CIRCUMSTANCES RELATING TO IT.
WHEN" the time was come in which our Lord
Jesus had disposed all things for the working
of the salvation of his people, and redeeming them,
not with corruptible gold or silver, but with his most
precious blood • before he departed, by death, from
his apostles, he would first make them a memorable
supper, which might serve for a future token, and
LORD JtitiUS CHLUtiT. 269
might fulfil those mysteries which till then had not
been fulfilled.
This supper was truly magnificent, and the things
great and wonderful which our Lord Jesus wrought
at it for you. Concerning which, four things chieliy
occur, which are most worthy your devout meditation.
First, the supper itself. Secondly, his washing the
fret of his disciples. Thirdly, the institution of the
sacrament of his blessed body and blood. And
fourthly, the composition of a sublime sermon by
our Lord Jesus. All which we will treat of in their
order.
First, then, consider, how Peter and John were
sent by our Lord to a certain friend on Mount Sion,
where there was a large room, to piepare the supper,
or Pasch. Our Lord himself, with the rest of his
disciples, entered the city on Thursday, when the
day was almost spent, and repaired to the same place.
Behold him, then, pious reader, standing amidst the
ipostles, and discoursing on heavenly subjects, while,
in the meantime, the Pasch was preparing by some
of the seventy- two disciples. When all things were
leady, the beloved St. John, who was most familiar
with our Lord, and who was diligent in seeing that
everything should be in order, came to him and said,
"Lord when it pleaseth thee to sup, all things are
ready." Wherefore, our blessed Saviour, with his
twelve apostles, went'up ; and John went also next to
him, for there was none who loved him more truly, or
(lint was more beloved by him in return : for when
our Lord was taken. John followed him when the
rest of the disciples fled, and was present at his pas
sion, nor did he desert him either in his crucifixion,
his death, nor even after his death until his burial :
at this supper also he sat next to him, although he
was the youngest of the apostles.
270 Till: LI I' 11 Olf OUR
All having entered the small supper chamber,
wash their hands, and standing around it, devoutly
bless the table. Consider them attentively in all
these things. According to ancient usage they sat
oil the ground around the table, which was placed
thereon ; being composed of many boards joined to
gether, its form is believed to have been squared ;
I saw it at Rome, in the Church of St. John
Lateran, and I measured it. The length of each
side is about two brachia and three palms, so that
although the space was small, three disciples are sup
posed to have sat at each side, and our Lord Jesus
humbly at one corner. By this circumstance all
were enabled to eat out of the same dish, and on this
account it was that the disciples did not understand
him when he said, "he that dippeth his hand into
the dish with me shall betray me." The table hav
ing been blessed by the hand of our Lord, they all
took their seats round it, and John sat next to Jesus.
The Paschal Lamb was then brought to them, and
you may either suppose them to have received it
sitting in the manner I have mentioned, or to have
eaten of it standing erect, with their staves in their
hands, and thus fulfilling literally the precept of the
law. In this case, however, you must imagine them
after an interval to have sat down again, which may
be known to have been the case from various pass
ages in the Gospel, for in any other position John
could not have reclined on our Lord's breast. The
Paschal Lamb having then been brought in on a
dish, was received by the true and immaculate Lamb
of God. our Lord Jesus, who being in the midst of
his disciples like a servant or steward cut it in pieces
n.nd offered it to them with alacrity, kindly pressing
and urging them to partake of it. Whilst they were
thus engaged, he declaring his mind to them more
LORD JE&U8 CHRIST.
explicitly than lie was wont, said, among other
things : "With desire I have desired toeatthisPasch
with you before I suffer ; but yet, behold, the hand
of him that betrayeth me is with me on the table."
This sentence like the keen sword pierced their
hearts ; they ceased eating, and, looking at one an
other, full of surprise and consternation, each one
enquired anxiously, " Lord, is it I ?" Contemplate
them then at this juncture, and sympathize both
with them and with our Lord Jesus, for their afflic
tion is great. The traitor, however, in order to divert
attention and suspicion from himself, ceased not from
his occupation, but continued eating. John then, at
the insitigation of Peter, enquired of our Saviour,
who was about to betray him, on which our Lord
familiarly informed him as he would an intimate
friend. John, astonished and stung to the heart by
such perfidity, turned towards him and reclined on
his breast. To Peter, however, our Lord did not
communicate it, because, as St. Augustine observes,
had he known the traitor, he would have torn him
to pieces with his teeth. By Peter are signified ac
tive, and by John contemplative Christians, nnd from
this fact you may learn that the latter, although to
all appearance unoccupied, neither cease from their
interior acts of devotion, nor yet seek to have the
offenders against their Lord punished ; but, inter
nally lamenting the crime, approaching more nearly
and clinging more closely to God, seek a refuge
from affliction in his love, and leave all things to the
disposal of his divine providence.
After this our Lord Jesus arose from the table,
accompanied by his disciples, who were ignorant of
whither he wished to go. He descended to a lower
apartment in the same house, as those who have seen
the place suppose, and there causing all of them to
272
THE LIFE OF OUR
sit down, he ordered water to be brought to him, laid
aside his garments, girded himself with a towel, uiid
proceeded to wash their feet. Peter, astonished, nt
JESUS WASHES THE FEET OF HIS DISCIPLES.
the proposal of an action which to him appeared so
unbecoming, positively refused to allow of its per;
formance on himself ; but hearing the threat of
Christ, that he should have no part in his glory if
he permitted him not to do it, he humbly consented
and submitted to his divine pleasure.
Here, pious reader, let us devoutly consider the
humility of our Lord Jesus, and be diligently atten
tive to all that follows, it being a subject of great
wonder and admiration : for what a sight was it to
behold the King of Heaven and the Lord of all maj
esty humbly stooping himself to, and kneeling down
at the feet of poor fishermen, who were sitting ; to
LORD JKXUS CHRIST. 273
behold him washing their feet, wiping them with a
towel, and devoutly kissing them ! And what much
more exalts his humility is, to behold him perform
ing this mean office to Judas, the traitor, who was
to betray and sell him. Oh, perverse and wicked
wretch ! Oh, hard and cruel heart ; more hardened
than stone, and more impenetrable than the diamond,
which is neither moved at so much humility, nor
melted or become soft with the heat of such great
charity ; and who tremble ch not with fear at the
presence of so great a majesty on his knees before
you, but, on the contrary, you persist still in your
wicked design of betraying and seeking the destruc
tion or nim, who is innocence itself, and whose
bounty and ineffable goodness you experience even
to the last. But, woe to you, oh wretch ! who still
remaining inflexible, will infallibly bring forth what
you have most execrably conceived, and in the end,
not he, but you shall perish. It is undoubtedly a
subject of great astonishment, to consider the in
effable bounty and meekness of our Lord Jesus, and
to see the notorious obstinacy and malice of the
wicked traitor Judas.
When this ceremony was ended, he again returned
to the same place where he had supped ; where all
being seated as before, he began to exhort them all
to imitate the example he had given him. Where
fore, we may here contemplate how our Lord Jesus
Christ left us this night of his passion an example
of five sublime virtues ; that is, of humility, as we
have seen in his washing of his disciples' feet ; of
charity, in the institution of 'the adorable sacrament
of his body and blood, and in the sermon he then
made, which is full of charitable admonitions ; of
patience in bearing with his wicked traitor, and
suffering many reproaches Avhen he was taken and
274 TUB LIFE OF OLR
led as a thief to judgment ; of obedience in going to
suffer, and meeting an opprobrious death, to fulfil
the will of bis Father ; and of prayer, by praying
three different times in the garden of Get hsemane.
Let us then endeavor to imitate him in these vir
tues ; and hence proceed to a consideration of the
(Third Point) , that is, of the institution of the most
adorable sacrament of the Eucharist. And in rela
tion to this, we cannot behold without astonishment
that most beloved condescension and sublime charity,
with which he vouchsafed to give himself to us : or
daining that sacrament as a means whereby he
might leave us that divine and heavenly food of his
sacred body and blood. Wherefore, after lie had
washed his disciples' feet, to show them the ending
of the sacrifices of the Old Law, and the beginning
of the New Testament, and to make himself our
only true sacrifice, he took bread into his blessed
hands, and lifting up his eyes to his heavenly
Father, he blessed it, and instituted the sacrament
of his body, and giving it to nis disciples, said,
" Take ye and eat, for this is my body which shall
be delivered for you." And in the same manner
he took the chalice, and said, "Drink ye all of this,
for this is my blood which shall be shed for you,
and for many, in the remission of sins."
Here, Christian reader, attentively consider how
devoutly, how diligently, and how truly our blessed
Lord Jesus changed the substance of the bread into
his precious body, and afterwards, with his own
blessed hands, distributed it himself to that beloved
and holy company, enjoining them to keep it as a
memorial of his love, saying, "Do this in remem
brance of me." This is that sweet and precious
memorial which renders man's soul most grateful
and pleasing to God, as often as it is worthily re-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 275
ceived : and therefore the consideration of this
most excellent gift of love ought to inflame our souls
with love, and wholly transform us into the giver.
For what could he have given us more dear, more
sweet, and more precious than himself ? He whom
we receive in the sacrament of the altar, is the self
same Son. of God, Christ Jesus, that took flesh and
blood, and was born of the Virgin Mary, and suf
fered death on the cross for us, rose the third day
from death to life, ascended into heaven, sitteth at
the right hand of the Father, and shall come again
at the last day, to judge both the living and the
dead, in whose power is both life and death, who
made both heaven and hell, and finally, who can
either reward us with the joys of the one, or punish
us with the eternal pains of the other : he, the self
same God and Man, is contained in that small host
in the form of bread, which is daily offered to God
the Father. He is our Lord Jesus Christ, Son of
the eternal and living God.
Touching the fourth and last point to be consid
ered, let us now behold how this sovereign Master,
after this institution, made to his disciples a most
beautiful sermon, full of heavenly sweetness, and
of divine love and charity. For having given to
them that blessed sacrament, and amongst the rest,
also to the wicked traitor Judas, he said to him :
"That which thou doest, do quickly." — John xiii.
And immediately that accursed monster went to the
chief priests, to whom he had sold him on the
Wednesday before, and asked them for help to appre
hend and take him.
In the meantime he made the said sermon, which
he preached to his disciples, giving them his peace,
and chiefly recommended to them three principal
Tirtues above all othern ; tbat is, faith, hope, and
276 THE LIFE OF OUR
charily. On charity lie expressed himself in these
words, saying : "I give you a new commandment,
which is, that you love one another : for by this shall
all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love
one another/' And again: "If you love me anil
keep my commandments ; and whosoever loveth me,
and keepeth my sayings, then shall my Father love
him, and we will come to him and dwell with him."
And in many other places he particularly recom
mended to them this charity as a worthy legacy,
which he would now bequeath to them in his last
will and testament.
Secondly, he established them in faith, and con
firmed them more strongly in the belief of his
divinity, saying, " Let not your hearts be troubled,
and fear ye not, as ye have believed in God, so be
lieve in me also." Further showing them that the
Father and he were one ; and that though as man
lie was less than his Father, yet he was equal
with him as he was God : and therefore he rep
rehended Philip, who asked him to show them
the Father, saying, " that he who saw him,
saw the Father." And in the conclusion of this
point; he said, "If ye believe not that I am
in the Father, and the Father in me, yet at
least believe me for the works that ye have seen
me do, because no other could do the works which
I have done."
Thirdly, he comforted them in hope many ways.
And first, as to the effects of prayer, he said, " If
ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, what
ever ye ask it shall be given you." Again he
armed them in regard to all manner of tribulation,
and the contempt of the world, saying, "If the
world hate ye, you know that it hated me before
you." Thus comforting their hope with patience
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 277
in time of persecution, by his own example, who was
their Lord and Master.
Lastly, he fortified them, lest they should despair
by reason of his leaving them, telling them that they
should conceive great sorrow for his absence for a
short time, in regard to the death he was to suffer ;
but that afterwards that sorrow should be changed
into unspeakable joy, by means of his glorious
resurrection from death, and his ascension to his
Father, and by the coming of the Holy Ghost, whom
he would send to comfort them in all their afflictions,
and teach them all truth. And he concluded with
these words, saying, " All this I have spoken to you,
that ye might have peace in me. In the world you
shall suffer much sorrow and affliction, but be of
good heart, for I have overcome the world." Which
was the same as to say, "and so shall you through
my grace." V^
After this our Lord Jesus lifting up his eyes
to \vards heaven, and addressing himself to his Father,
snid. Father, keep them whom tJiou hast given me.
When I was with them I kept them. But now 1
come to thee. Holy Father ; for them do 1 pray :
not for the world, and not for them only do I pray,
but for them also, that by their word shall believe
in me. Father, whom thou hast given me, 1 will,
that where I am, they also may be with me, that
they may see my glory. These, with many other
things most moving and piercing, he spoke in the
presence of his disciples. And it is certainly surpris
ing to imagine how they, who loved him so tenderly,
could possibly bear to hear them without melting
with grief and sorrow. And doubtless whoever hath
grace deeply to examine and dwell by devout medita
tion upon the sweet doctrine of our Lord and Saviour,
cannot but be inwardly kindled with his divine love
278 THE LIFE O
in beholding such great charity, benignity, goodness,
and other things he was pleased to show this night
of his sacred passion. Consider him while he speaks,
behold in how affable, devout, and effectual a
manner he imprints on the hearts of his disciples all
he relates to them, and in some measure feeds their
souls with the pleasing aspect of his divine counte
nance. Consider likewise the disciples, how sorrow
ful they stand to hear him, hanging down their
heads, fetching deep sighs, and bitterly weeping ;
being full of extreme sorrow and affliction, as Christ
himself bears witness, saying, "Because I have
spoken these things, sorrow hath filled your hearts."
And among the rest consider St. John, who above
all was most familiar with our blessed Lord, how at
tentively he beholds his beloved master, and with
a most tender anxiety takes particular notice of
every word he says.
At length, among other things which he spoke, he
said to them, "Arise, let us go hence." Oh, what
fear, may we not well imagine, did then seize their
hearts ; not knowing as yet whither, or in what he
would go ; believing that the time was now come, in
which they were to be separated from him. They
arose, however, and followed ; each striving which
should be nearest to him, and all flocking round him,
as her chickens around the hen ; they crowded in
upon him, first one, and then another, through the
earnest desire they had of being near him, and hear
ing his divine doctrine ; all which he, with great pa
tience and benignity, suffered them to do. At last,
having ended what he had to say to them, he brought
them unto a garden on the other side of the brook
Cedron, and there fixing himself in prayer, he waited
for Judas the traitor, and the rest that were to appre
hend him, as we shall see in that which follows of
his passion-
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
279
THE AGONY IN THE GA.UDKN.
In chapter LX, THE PASSION OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST ; AND HIS
PRAYER IN THE GARDEN.
IT is now time for us to enter upon the subject of
the passion of our Lord Jesus. But whoever
desires to glory in the cross and passion of Jesus
Christ, must devoutly apply himself to the pious and
frequent meditation of it ; the mysteries of which, as
well as every other thing that was done relating to it,
if they were truly considered with all the attention
280 THE LIFE OF OUR
of the mind, would, undoubtedly, transform each
votary into a new man. Wherefore, pious reader,
banishing from your heart all the vain and trouble
some cares of this life, and all sorts of wandering and
distracting thoughts which may hinder your atten
tion, and disturb the tranquillity of your soul, en
deavor, as far as possible, to render yourself atten
tive, as if present at the dismal tragedy of this sor
rowful and bitter passion.
And first then, behold, how our Lord Jesus went
over the brook Cedron into a garden, whither he was
often used to resort with his disciples to pray. He
took with him three of his most beloved disciples,
Peter, James, and John, and telling them that his
heart was heavy and sorrowful, even unto death, he
bid them watch with him in prayer. And then going
about a stone's cast from them, and throwing himself
on his knees, he made his devout and humble prayer
to his Father. We read that he often prayed thus :
but he then prayed for us, as our advocate ; but now
he prayed for himself. Have compassion on him,
and admire his most profound humility ; who being
God co-eternal and co-equal with his Father, forgets,
as it were, his being so, and prays like men, humbly
offering up petitions to his Father, thus truly ex
pressing his most perfect and submissive obedience
to him. But what does he pray for? He prays to
his heavenly Father, to take from him, if possible,
the bitter chalice of his approaching passion, and
that he might not die that cruel death of the cross,
if it could any ways be agreeable to his divine will.
But his prayer was not heard in this ; since his
Father would have him to die, and would not spare
him, though his true and only Son, but thus delivers
him up for us all. "For God so loved the world,
that he gave his only begotten Son. ' ' — John iii Our
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 281
Lord Jesus, therefore, submitted to this obedience,
and faithfully fulfilled the divine will of his Father.
Consider, likewise, the unspeakable charity both of
the Father and Son towards us. It was for us tha t
this death was inflicted upon him ; and he suffered
i t through the excess of the love he bore us. Where
fore, our blessed Lord prays still to his heavenly
Father, saying, ' ' Most merciful and gracious Father,
full of pity and compassion, I beseech you to hear
my prayer, and despise not my supplication : attend
unto me and hear me. I am sorrowful in my afflic
tion : my soul is troubled within me, and my heart
is afflicted. Incline your ear towards me, and
hearken to the voice of my supplication. It pleased
you, O heavenly Father, to send me into this world,
to satisfy for the sin of man committed against us ;
and presently I was ready at your command, and
said, lo, I go : and I have farther declared your word
and truth to them, dwelling among them, in many
troubles, from my youth fulfilling your will in all
you have commanded me, and am also ready to ac
complish to the utmost those things which are to be
done for their redemption ; yet you see, O most
beloved Father, how maliciously my enemies have
conspired against me ; I have ever done them good,
and bestowed benefits on those that hated me ; and
they have again rewarded me with evil for good,
and returned me hatred for evil ; and at this present
time they have corrupted my disciple, who hath
sold me to them for thirty pence, and made him the
instrument to destroy me. O Father, if it be your
will, take from me, I beseech you, this bitter cup of
my passion ; but if not, your blessed will be done.
If they will not acknowledge me for your only Son,
yet, as I have ever lived a righteous and innocent
life, and wrought so many good works amongst them,
282 THE LIFE OF OUR
they ought not to be so cruel and maliciously bent
against me. Remember, oh, heavenly Father, that I
have always stood before you to speak good for them,
and to turn away^your wrath from them. And shall
good be recompensed with evil? For they have
digged a pit for my soul, and prepared a most
shameful death for me. Wherefore you, O Lord,
who see all things, be not silent, forsake me not,
but rise up to help me : for great tribulation is near
at hand, and there is no other that can deliver me.
My adversaries are all before you that seek my soul :
and my heart hath expected reproach, and I am full
of heaviness."
This done, our Lord Jesus came again to his dis
ciples, and finding them heavy with sleep, he
awakened them, and bid them to watch and pray ;
this he did also a second and third time ; and then
returning again to prayer, he said as before, and
added, " Oh, most righteous Father, if it be so that
you have absolutely ordained that I must suffer a
most cruel death on the cross for man's redemption,
your most holy will be done. But first I recom
mend to your care, my beloved mother, and my
disciples, whom hitherto I have always taken care
of." And while he was thus fervent in his holy
prayer, his most precious blood gushed forth like
sweat, from all parts of his sacred body, and ran
down upon the ground, through the extreme violence
of his bitter agony. Here is a subject of grief and
sorrow, which ought to be sufficient to move the
hardest heart to compassion at the anguish and pain
which our blessed Lord Jesus suffered at that time
for our sake. For by virtue of his divinity, he
foresaw all the pains and torments which were to be
inflicted upon him, and therefore, according to his
humility, his tender body trembled with fear, and
LORD J&SUS CHRIST. 283
fell into a most violent and bloody sweat. Let us'
learn hence to check our frequent impatience by rec
ollecting, that our Lord prayed three times to his
Father before he received an answer.
Now at the third time, when he was in the most
profound anguish of spirit, behold an angel from
God, the prince of the celestial heirarchy, St. Michael,
came down and stood before him, comforted him,
and said, "Hail, O blessed Lord Jesus ! your de
vout prayer and bloody sweat I have offered up to
your -Father, in the presence of the whole court of
heaven. We all humbly prostrate before him, have
besought him to take from you that bitter draught
of your passion : but your heavenly Father answer
ing us, said, ' My blessed Son knows full well that
the redemption of mankind, which, out of our sov
ereign love to him, we so much desire, cannot be
conveniently fulfilled without the shedding of his
blood ; wherefore, if he is desirous of their salva
tion, he must die for them.' ' To whom our Lord
Jesus again replied, " I desire above all things the
salvation of man's soul, and therefore, I choose
rather cheerfully to suffer death, by which the souls
which my heavenly Father hath made to his own
image and likeness, may be saved, tlian not to die,
and that those souls should not be redeemed:
Wherefore, my Father's will be done." The angel
then again replying, said, "Be now of good heart,
my divine Lord, and act courageously : for it be
hooves the high to work great things, and to suffer
courageously most severe and difficult trials ; your
pains and troubles will soon pass away, and joy and
glory shall ever after succeed. And your heavenly
Father is, and will be, always with you ; and will
keep and preserve from harm, your blessed mother
and your disciples, according to your desire."
284 THE LIFE OF OUR
Our most liumble Lord Jesus rose up, and meekly
accepted this small comfort from the angel, the
Creator from the creature, reputing himself ior
/ that time even inferior to them. AVherefore, he
was sorrowful as man, was comforted by the angel
as man, and as man prayed him to recommend him
to his Father, and to the whole court of celestial
spirits. And thus a third time he riseth from prayer,
with his body covered with blood ; whom you may
behold with inward compassion, wiping himself or
bathing in the river ; all which is to be devoutly
considered with sorrow and compassion, since it
could not possibly be endured without great bitter
ness and pain.
Here we must observe, that many of the lathers
and learned doctors say, that our Lord Jesus piayed
in this manner, not merely for fear of his biiter
passion, but chiefly through the pity and mercy
which he had towards his chosen people, the Jews,
lamenting that they would be lost by not believing
in him, and putting him to death. For surely it
was most ungrateful in them to crucify him, since
he was of their race ; and was nlso prophesied in
their law to be the true Messiahs Christ Jesus, who
was to come, and who had farther showed them so
many signs, and given them so many proofs of his
singular love. Wherefore, as some of the holy
fathers say, he prayed after this manner, saying, "0
heavenly Father, if it could stand with the salvation
of my brethren the Jews, and that the Gentiles might,
by some other means, be converted to you, I would
be glad to refuse this bitter passion ; but if otherwise
it be expedient that the Jews be blinded in their
malice, so that others after them may have a more
perfect sight in the faith and true belief of you, then
not my will but yours be fulfilled."
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 285
There was in Christ at this time four kinds of wills,
viz.: The will of the flesh, which would no ways
agree to suffer. The will of sensuality ; and this
murmured and feared. The will of reason ; and this
consented and was obedient. And lastly, there was
in him his divine will ; which commanded and passed
sentence. And as he was true man, as such he suf
fered great auguish of spirit, and underwent a most
bitter agony. Wherefore, have an inward and cor
dial compassion for him, and consider attentively
every action of the Lord your God.
After this he came to his disciples, and said to
them, "Now sleep and take your rest;" for their
eyes were very heavy.
Thus the Good Shepherd was carefully watchful
and vigilant over his little flock, his beloved disciples.
Oh, how great was the love of our sweet Lord and
Saviour towards them ! For those whom he loved, he
loved to the end : so that even in his great anguish
and bitter agony, he was careful in procuring their
rest and quiet repose.
286
THE LIFE OF OUR
JUDAS BETRAYS HIS MASTER WITH A KISS.
CHAPTER LXI.
OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST TAKEN AND BETRAYED BY
JUDAS.
T MMEDIATELY after, our blessed Lord beheld
A his adversaries coming with lighted torches and
lanterns, and weapons to apprehend him ; and yet he
would not awaken his disciples till his enemies came
near to him : then he spoke and said,, " Rise, let us
go ; behold he approacheth that shall betray me." —
Matt. xxvi. And while he was speaking, that wicked
Judas the traitor, came and approaching
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 287
him, kissed him. For it is written, that it was the
manner and custom of our Lord Jesus towards his
disciples, that when at any time he had sent them
out, at their returning again, he would receive them
with a loving kiss. Wherefore the traitor went be
fore the wicked band, and kissed him as he used to
do, and said, "Hail, master."
And here let us behold our Lord Jesus, how pa
tiently and meekly he receives that false and treach
erous kiss, from that unfaithful disciple, whose feet
so lately he had vouchsafed to wash with his own
hands, and whom, out of his unspeakable charity he
refused not to feed with the precious food of his
blessed body. Consider, likewise, how meekly he
suffered himself to be taken, bound, struck, and
furiously dragged away, as if he had been a thief, or
the most wicked person in the world, void of power
to help himself. Contemplate also the great sorrow
and inward affliction he had on account of his dis
ciples, who fled and left him in the hands of those
ravenous wolves. And on the other side, consider
the grief of their hearts, since the cduse of their leav
ing him was not the perversity of their will, but the
frailty of their weak nature ; for which they heartily
mourn and sigh, like poor orphans, that know not
what they do, or whither to go ; and their sorrow
was so much the greater, as they knew in what a bar
barous manner their Lord and master would be
treated and abused.
Those cruel butchers drive and pull him along as
they would a beast to the slaughter, and he, like a
meek lamb, not opening his mouth, patiently follows
them without resistance. First, those vile wretches
led him from the brook Cedron, near which place
he was apprehended, towards the city of Jerusalem,
and that with great haste, pain, and violence haying
288
THE LIFE OF OUR
his blessed hands bound behind him, as if he had
been some grievous malefactor ; his garments torn
off, going bareheaded, and bent down, from the
great haste, and the violent pain, they forced him to,
ANNAS HEARING THE REPORT OF HIS HAVING IJEE.N TAJLKi^CCMFB
OUT TO SEE HIM.
When he was brought before the chief priests and
scribes, that were then assembled together, expect
ing his coming, they were rejoiced and glad that
they had apprehended him : they then began to ex
amine him, and to ask many questions, endeavor
ing to ensnare him ; they procured false witnesses
against him, spit in his sacred face, blinded his eyes,
buffetted and derided him, saying, "Tell us who it
was that struck thee." Thus many and different
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 289
ways they afflicted and tormented him, and in all
he gave us most singular examples of patience.
At length the chief judges rose up and departed,
having ordered him to be kept in custody under a
loft, in the nature of a prison, where they bound
him to a pillar of stone, as those say who have seen
It, leaving a guard of armed men with him for greater
security ; who, during the whole night, abused and
derided him with many opprobrious and reproachful
speeches, saying, "Do you believe yourself to be
better or more wise than our learned magistrates ?
Or can you imagine that they understand not the
law and religion much better than you ? How fool
ish do you appear in taking upon you to reprehend
and teach them, against whom you should not have
presumed to open your lips. Wherefore now your
wisdom appears, in being obliged to suffer that which
all such as you truly deserve ; you are truly worthy
of death, and it would be a pity that you should
escape it." Thus the whole night, sometimes one,
and sometimes another, both with scurrilous lan
guage and wicked works, continually reviled and
abused him. And our blessed Lord, with bashful
and modest countenance, patiently bore it all, and
was silent to every scornful word they said against
him ; but with his eyes modestly inclined towards
the ground, made no answer, as if he had been
guilty, and worthy of blame. O most amiable Lord,
into whose hands are you come ? This is truly the
hour, and power of darkness, and with what patience
do you suffer it !
Thus stood our blessed Redeemer, bound to that
pillar, till the next morning. In the meantime John,
who had followed him to the high priest' s house, went
to the Blessed Virgin, to Mary Magdalen, and other
devout people who were at that time assembled at
290 ^# LIFE 01' OUR
Mary Magdalen's house, where om.kjord made that
memorable supper the night before, and related to
them all that had happened to our Lord and his dis
ciples ; which when they had heard, they were seized
with unspeakable grief, and wept most bitterly. Con
sider th^m attentively, and have compassion on them,
for they are now in tlie greatest grief and affliction
that ever they were in for their Lord, for they now
plainly see and know full well that he will be taken
from them and put to a cruel death. Our blessed
Lady retired alone to prayer, and said, "O most
sovereign, most high, and most merciful Father, I
present myself before your majesty, to recommend
to your protection my dearly beloved son. O gra
cious Father, reveal to me whether my son Jesus
shall be put to death or not. Be not severe to him,
O bountifnl Father, who to all others art so good and
merciful ; for he knows no sin, nor ever committed
any evil. O most just Father, if you require his
death for the redemption of the world, I beseech you,
if possible, to find out some other means whereby to
accomplish your design, and that my blessed son's
life may be spared, if it be your holy will. And he,
out of obedience to you, has abandoned himself into
the hands of his enemies, and will not attempt to
deliver himself from their power. Wherefore, I be
seech you, O heavenly Father, to help him, and to
deliver him to me again out of their wicked hands."
Thus, or in words to this effect, our blessed Lady
prayed for her son in the profound sorrow and grief
of her soul, wherefore we ought to accompany her
in her anguish, and be moved with compassion to*
wards her in her great affliction.
JESUS CHRIST. 291
CHAPTER LXIL
OUB BLESSED LORD IS CARRIED BEFORE PILATE ;
SCOURGED AT THE PILLAR, AND CROWNED WITH
THORNS.
ARLY next morning, the elders and chiefs of the
people returned and caused Jesus to be bound,
and led with his hands fastened behind him ; and
thus hand- cuffed, brought him to Pilate, mocking,
reviling and insulting him with the most abusive
taunts, as he proceeded on the way. Thus went this
innocent Lamb, in the guise of a malefactor, hurried
by the merciless butchers to unmerited slaughter.
As he was going on his way, his blessed mother, St.
John, and the holy women who accompanied the
virgin, who had left their humble retirement so early
on purpose to come to his assistance and comfort,
met him at the turn of a street : and what tongue
can express the bitter anguish of their souls, at the
sad sight of their Lord thus hurried along by an in
suiting and abusive mob ? Or what degree of inbred
grief can figure the excess of mutual sorrow this in
terview begot on both sides ? Our Lord could not
but suffer extremely through the compassion he felt
for his beloved followers, and chiefly for his mother.
For he knew full well the bitter grief they felt for
him, sufficient to tear their bleeding souls from their
convulsed bodies.
He was then brought before Pilate, and the holy
women followed at a distance, the thronging rabble
not suffering them to approach nearer. Many accu
Bations were laid against him to Pilate, but he, find
ing all to be groundless, and desirous to rid himsell
<292 THE LIFE OF OUR
I
of so odious a prosecution, dispatched him to Herod.
Herod was much pleased at this, hoping by this
means to see a miracle wrought by Christ ; but he
could not obtain the least gratification of this sort
from Christ, who thought him unworthy even to hear
a word from his sacred mouth. Hence, Herod, look-
BBBOD WITH HIS MEN OF WAR MAKES A MOCK OF JESUS.
in^ upon him as an idiot, caused him to be clothed in a
white garment, the usual habit of fools in those days,
and thus, in derision, sent him back to Pilate. So
that Christ patiently bore to be reputed both a fool
and a malefactor by all, without deserving the title
of either from any one. Contemplate him, then, as
he is led backwards and forwards, with his eyes
modestly depressed, hearing the shouts and taunts,
receiving the buffets, spittings, and perhaps filth
LrS CHRIST.
293
thrown at him by rude populace, without murmur
or complaint ; cast a pitying eye upon him in this
sad plight, and with him compassionate his afflicted
mother and beloved disciples, who follow him as
closely as the mob will permit, till they reach the
palace of Pilate. Here again he is loaded by the
savage brutes with false accusations, which they
utter with the utmost impudence and inveteracy.
Yet Pilate, finding in him nothing that bore the ap
pearance of guilt, sought means to free him from
their hands. Wherefore he says, "I will punish,
and then dismiss him." O Pilate ! do you presump
JB8U8 BY THE COMMAND OF PILATE, IS SCOURGED AT THE PILLAR-
to chastise your Lord and Sovereign ? Sorely you
are beside yourself thus to dare to inflict stripes on
him who is as guiltless of stripes as of death. Oh,
294 riIK IjrE Or OUR
how much more wisely had you acted to chastise
yourself by his admonition ! Pilate, however, was
besotted enough to order him to be most inhumanly
scourged.
By his order therefore, our most innocent Lord
was'stripped naked, bound to a pillar, and inhumanly
scourged. Thus was that innocent Lamb, and that
most beautiful among the children of men, shame
fully exposed, naked and abashed, before the whole
populace ; and received with invincible patience the
cruei stripes of his barbarous executioners. So that
the most beautiful flower of human nature, and the
fairest and most delicate of all flesh, was covered
with stripes, wounds and bruises, insomuch that
from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet,
his most precious blood ran, flowing from all parts
of his sacred body, in abundance upon the ground,
being so long scourged and beaten that they added
wound to wound, bruise to bruise, and stripe to
stripe - till at length, the inhuman spectators being
weary of beholding any longpr what the cruel
butchers themselves were wholly tired of, he was
ordered to be unbound. He was then loosed from
the pillar, on which the stains of his precious blood
are still to be seen, as many authentic historians
affirm.
Here, pious reader, let me entreat you to dwell
some time on this subject, and attentively consider,
with heart full of sorrow and compassion, the ex
tremity of his bitter pains ; and if you find not your
heart moved, or even melted with grief and com
punction at the sufferings of your blessed Lord, you
may conclude that it is more hard and impenetrable
than stone. It was then fulfilled of him, what the
prophet Isaiah had long before prophesied, saying,
"We have seen him, and there was neither form
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
295
nor beauty left, and we esteemed him as a leper,
and as one smitten by God, and humbled. ' ' O sweet
Jesus, who dared to be so bold as to presume to
strip you of your garments ? Who was it that dared
with more assurance to bind you to the pillar I And
who, most audacious of all, could persume to beat
and scourge you in that cruel manner? But you, O
most bright sun of righteousness ! you, I say, who
withdrew the resplendent beams of your glory, and
THE SOLDIERS CROWN JESTT8 WITH THORNS, AND BOW THE KNEE
TO HIM AS KING.
who vouchsafed to hide your power and might, so
that darkness, and the power of darkness reigned
for a time, and your enemies appeared, by your
divine permission, more powerful than yourself. It
296 THB LIFE °F ouli
was the excess of your love, and the greatness of
our iniquity, which disarmed you of your strength
in this conflict. But accursed be that malice which
caused you to be thus cruelly tormented.
After this they led him round the place to seek for
his clothes, which were scattered about in different
parts, some in one place, and some in another, by
those barbarous executioners who had stripped him.
Here ought tenderness move us to compassion
to wards him, thus afflicted and trembling with cold ;
for as the gospel tells us, the weather was sharp and
piercing. As he wa-s clothing himself again, some
of the wicked populace went to Pilate, and said,
" This man said, he was king, wherefore, let us clothe
him after our manner, and crown him as such."
Then taking him aside, they clothed him in a purple
garment : and platting a crown of thorns, they put it
upon his head, and with violence pressed them into
his sacred temples ; giving him a reed instead of a
sceptre, they kneeled down and saluted him in deri
sion, saying, "Hail, king of the Jews." To all which
Jesus made no answer : and like a meek and patient
lamb, opened not his mouth. Here behold with melt
ing heart, how often they strike him upon the head
to drive the piercing thorns more deeply into his
sacred temples, so that they forced the blood from
every part, which running down in great abundance,
covered his blessed face. Consider how he behaves
in every action, and how patiently he bears every
insult which they offer to him ; they deride and mock
him as one who would make himself king, without
power to effect it. He is clothed in purple, carries
a crown of thorns on his head, holds a reed in his
"hand, and they on their knees, salute him in derision
as king, and he is silent, and murmurs not. But, oh
miserable and wicked wretches ! how dreadful shall
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 297
tliat blessed head appear at the last day, which now
yon beat and abuse so inhumanly ! Neither was all
they had hitherto done sufficient to weaken their
malice against him ; but to add more to his reproach,
they brought into the house many of the mob to gaze
THE PEOPLE CRY, "NOT THIS MAN, BUT BARABBA8.*
01 1ii;n ; after which they led him out to Pilate, and
showed him to the whole multitude ; having on his
purple garment, his crown of thorns, and a sceptre
of a reed in his hand. In this manner stood that in
nocent lamb, with his eyes modestly depressed before
that great multitude, who scoffed and derided him,
and with the loudest shouts exclaimed against him,
crying out to Pilate, ''Crucify him, crucify him."
THE L'FK OF OUR
LORD JJBTSUS CHRIST.
PILATE YIELDS TO THE CRY FGH ins CRUCIFIXION.
CHAPTER LXIII.
OUR BLESSED LORD JESUS IS CONDEMNED TO SUFFER
A CRUEL DEATH ON THE CROSS, AND COMPELLED
TO CARRY THE SAME TO MOUNT CALVARY.
OUR blessed Lord Jesus having been many ways
shamefully reviled, mocked and abused, and
having suffered many cruel torments among them,
the chief men of the Jews continually sought his death,
and stirred up the whole multitude to join them, and
800
to importune Pilate to have him crucified. At length
that wicked judge, fearing more to incur their dis
pleasure than to condemn the innocent, passed sen
tence of death upon him. Then were the Scribes
and Pharisees full of joy, that they had accomplished
their designs, and attained their wicked ends against
him. They remembered not the benefits they had
received from him, nor the miracles he had wrought
among them ; they neither pitied him for his inno
cence, nor were they moved at the cruelty and base
ness of the action they were going to commit ; and
instead of ceasing from their wicked purpose, in con
sideration of the great affliction, sufferings, and re
proaches they had already inflicted upon him, they
rejoiced and were glad that their designs were now
near their execution. Wherefore, they revile, mock,
and insult him, who is the true and eternal God, and
hasten, as much as possible, his death. He is again
carried back to the house, stripped of his mock
purple garment, and left naked before them. Pause
here a moment, and attentively consider the make
and form of his sacred body : and that you may be
moved to inward compassion towards him. and feed
your soul with devout contemplation, close your
eyes* for a while to his divinity, and consider him
as purely man, and you will behold the most lovely,
fair, innocent, and beautiful among the sons of men
in that doleful condition, full of wounds nnd bruises,
covered with blood, naked and abashed, seeking
and gathering together his garments, which were
dispersed in different parts of the house, by those
cruel and merciless brutes, and clothing himself
before them, whilst they stand insulting and re
viling him, as if he had been the most contemptible
of all creatures, forsaken by God, and destitute of
all help and comfort. Then consider the profound
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
301
and wonderful meekness of him as God and man ;
behold how that immense, eternal, and incom
prehensible majesty stoops to the ground, collects
his torn garments, and bashfully clothes himself be
fore his enemies, as though he was the vilest of men,
their bought slave, under their dominion, and by them
chastised as a base and unpardonable criminal. After
this, accompany him out, and behold how, after he
has put on his clothes, they hurry him away, and
load him with the heavy wood of the cross, which,
'JESUS HAtJ'THE CROSS LAID UPON HIS SHOULDERS.
as historians say, measured fifteen feet in length ;
this the most meek and innocent Lamb took and
bore upon his blessed shoulders ; and thus was IIP
hurried along by an enraged mob, in company with
302
THE LIFE OF OUR
two th eves, who were condemned to death ; these
were his companions in suffering.
Oh, sweet and beloved Jesus, how much do these
your enemies debase you, by making you a com
panion with thieves ! And what is still worse, they
compel you to carry your own cross, which is a
burthen they imposed not upon them. Wherefore,
as the prophet Isaiah saith, "You are not only
numbered with evil doers, but are used worse than
they. Your patience, O Lord, is unspeakable."
And now, devout Christains, with all possible at
tention and devotion, observe our Lord Jesus, how
he bends under the weight of the cross, vehemently
sighing, and wearied. Take pity on him in this sad
plight of renewed afflictions and calumnies.
THE FIRST FALL OF .TESTTfl tTWDRR TUB WEIGHT OF HTB CROW.
LORD JESUti CHRIST.
308
His blessed and afflicted mother, seeing that she
could not get near him, on account of the great con
course of people which pressed about him, went,
with St. John and the rest of her companions, a
nearer way, to the end that she might meet him at
the winding of the street. And when she perceived
him coming, bowed down with the heavy load of
the cross, which before she had not seen, she was
like one beside herself, and half dead with grief, so
JESUS MEETS HIS MOST BLESSED MOTHER.
that she could neither speak to him, nor he to her,
by reason of the furious mob which hurried him
along with great violence and compulsion. After,
however, he had gone a little way, he turned to the
women that followed, weeping, and said: "Ye
daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep f 05
004 TBB LIFE OF OUR
yourselves and for your children," etc., as is farther
contained in the gospel. And in these two places
were erected two churches in memory of these
things, as they report who have been there, and
seen them. And as Mount Calvary was distant from
the city, he was so tired and faint, that he was not
able to carry his cross the whole way, but fell down
under it with exhaustion. The wicked executioners,
not willing to defer his death, lest Pilate should re
voke his sentence, as he had before shown some in
clination to release him, compelled one Simon, a
stranger, to carry it for him, and Jesus they led un
burdened the rest of the way, but bound like a thief
ro the place of execution.
otf CUiKMi 18 JbUKUO) TO HELP JESUS TO BEAR HIS CB.O88.
Now, if we attentively consider all that hath been
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
done to our Lord Jesus, and the many things he hath
suffered from the time he was first apprehended to
this present, we shall doubtless find therein great
matter of sorrow and compunction. For we may
truly believe, that from the hour in which he was first
taken in the night, till the time of his being crucified,
he was in one continual combat, and endured number
less reproaches and injuries, sorrows and detractions
innumerable and suffered the most cruel torments
among them. For there was no manner of rest given
to him but continual trouble and vexation. And
here you may dwell, devout reader, for some short
review of that which hitherto hath been acted against
him : first, how one lays violent hands upon and ap
prehends him, another binds him tightly with cords,
another blasphemes him, another spits in his sacred
face, another proposes to him subtle questions in order
to ensnare him, another drags him backwards and
forwards from one judge to another, another blind
folds his eyes, another buffets him, another strips
him of his clothes, another binds him to a pillar, an
other most cruelly scourges him, another unbinds
him and clothes him in a purple garment, another
plats a crown of thorns which he presses upon his
head, another puts a reed into his hand, another takes
it from him, and striking him with it upon the head,
drives the thorns further in to his sacred temples, an
other kneels down before him and mocks him, and
so of the rest, sometimes one, and sometimes another.
Now they lead him to Annas, now to Caiphas,
then to Pilate, and thence to Herod ; now hither,
and then thither, now out, and then in again. And
finally, he was dragged and hurried along with great
violence, and without rest, till he came to Mount
Calvary, which was the place fixed for the period of
this doleful combat
THE LIFE
ST. VEKONICA WIPES THE FACE OF JESUS WITH A NAPKIN.
CHAPTER LXIV.
OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST IS NAILED TO THE CROSS.
WHEN our blessed Lord Jesus was now come to
Mount Calvary, those wicked and merciless
butchers began then to effect their cruel work. Be
present now with all the attention of your mind to
these things, and devoutly consider every particular
relating to the Lord your God. Behold with the in
terior eyes of your soul, some preparing the cross*.
LORD JESCS CHRIST.
307
some making ready the ropes and cords to bind Mm,
some the nails and hammers to fasten him, others
preparing the ladder and other instruments, some
digging the hole in the earth to fix the cross in, and
others busy in stripping him, so that this is the third
time of his being stripped, by which his wounds are
again renewed by the violent tearing off his clothes,
which were cleaving to his sacred flesh. His blessed
JEBU8 IS BTBIPPED OF HIS RAIMENT. . _^
mother, when she beheld him thus used, was afflicted
beyond expression. And oh, how full of bitter an
guish, indeed, may we well imagine, was her tender
soul, in beholding her beloved and innocent son thus
shamefully abused, and loaded with injuries and in-
eults I Theu was he extended upon the cross, as it
308 THB
lay upon the ground, and with cords stretching forth
with violence his sacred hands and feet, the cruel
slaughterers with long iron nails barbarously piercing
them, nailed him fast to it.
Thus was our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ fast
ened to the cross, hand and foot, and so excessively
strained thereon, that as the royal prophet saith :
" All his bones might be numbered :" and his sacred
blood ran forth in streams from his blessed wounds
in great abundance : and his arms and legs were so
widely stretched with the nails, that he could move
no part of his body, except his head. And as his
whole weight was supported only by three nails, his
pains undoubtedly were great beyond what any heart
can conceive, or tongue express. But still to add
insult to the pangs he suffered, he was crucifiod be
tween two thieves, and loaded with derision, con
tempt, and reviling from all parts. Some blas
phemed him, others shook their heads, and said, " Fie
on thee, thou art he that would st destroy the
temple of God, and build it up again in three days.
Others he saved, himself he cannot save ; and if thou
be the Son of God descend now from the cross, that
we may believe." And those who crucified him, di
vided Ms garments among them before his face. All
this was acted in the presence of his afflicted mother,
who stood under the cross, and whose tender
compassion and tears added much to his sorrow and
affliction ; for she accompanied him in her soul on
the cross, and inwardly desired rather to die with
him, than to live any longer without him. Thus
stood the doleful mother beside the cross of her son.
She never turned her eyes from him — she was af
flicted and full of anguish with him ; and with many
bitter sighs prayed to her heavenly Father, saying,
*' Oh, heavenly Father, and sovereign Lord of majesty
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
809
without doubt it was foreseen and pleasing to you
from all eternity, that my most beloved and innocent
son should shed his precious blood, and be crucified
for the sins of the world, wherefore it is not proper
to ask him of you again. But, most holy Father,
you see the bitter torment and anguish of his soul,
wherefore I beseech you to ease his pain, and release
him. if it be your heavenly will."
JESUS 18 NAILED TO THE CROSS.
And her blessed son secretly prayed to his Father
for her, snying, "Oh good Father, look down, T be
seech you, on my afflicted mother, and -behold how
deeply she is tormented for me : my crucifixion is
sufficient for the sins of mankind ; she hath not de
served any such thing, and yet she is with me in
heart upon the cross, and bears an equal share with
310 THE LIPS OF OUR
me in my pains. I recommend her to you, beseech
ing that it would please you to assuage and lessen
her grief."
There were also with our blessed Lady the beloved
disciple, St. John, and Mary Magdalen, and the
two sisters of our Lady, Mary of James., and Mary of
Salome, and other friends, standing under the cross,
who all, but especially Mary Magdalen, the beloved
of Jesus, were very sorrowful, and wept bitterly,
and could no ways be comforted, because of the
pains of their beloved master: for their sorrow was
renewed with "his, in the words, or de.eds, which
Were said or done to him.
In chapter LXV, THE WORDS WHICH OUR LORD SPOKE WHILE HANGING
UPON THE CHOSS I HE YIELDS UP HIS SPIRIT.
OUR Lord Jesus hanging on the cross, ceased
not to do, and to speak those things which
were for our advantage, even to the last moment in
which he gave up his spirit ; wherefore he spoke
seven times, as is written in the Gospel.
The first time he spoke was when he prayed for
his enemies, saying, "Father, forgivr them, for they
know not what they do." 0 wonderful patience,
charity, and benignity!
The second was to his mother, when he said,
" Woman, behold thy son ;" and to John, " behold
thy mother." He would not call her at that iime
mother, lest the tenderness of the expression should
have occasioned her more grief.
The third was to the good thief saying, "This
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 31 1
day thou shalt be with me in paradise." In which
words he showed his infinite and unbounded mercy
towards us.
The fourth was when he said, "Mi, Eli, Lam
ma sabadhani" That is to say, "My God, my
God, why hast thou forsaken me!" As if he had
more plainly said: "My God, you have so much
loved the world, that while you give me to death for
its redemption, you seem to have forsaken me."
The fifth was when he said, "Sitio;" — I thirst !
Which word gave occasion to his enemies to rejoice,
and to his mother greater occasion of compassion.
And although this word may be understood of thirst
for the salvation of souls : yet he truly thirsted for
drink ; for by the great effusion of his blood, he had
little moisture left within him. Wherefore his cruel
butchers, who were studying how they might tor
ment him, took vinegar mixed with gall, and put it
to his mouth, that he might drink.
The sixth was when he said, " Consummatum
est ;" It is finished ! As if he had said, " O Father,
I have perfectly and obediently fulfilled all the com
mands you gave me, and all that has hitherto been
written of me : wherefore, now, if it pleaseth thee,
receive me again to thyself." To which, we may for
devotion's sake imagine, his Father replied, " Come,
my beloved Son, for you have fulfilled all things
completely, and I will not that you suffer any more ;
come then and resign your soul into my arms, and
repose yourself forever in my bosom/'
And then our blessed Jesus began to fail in his
sight, after the nature of dying men, and grew faint
and languid, sometimes closing and sometimes open
ing his eyes ; and bowing his head first on one side,
and then on the other, till being quite spent, and lif«
failing, he recommended his soul to his Father, cry-
312
THE LIFE OF OUR
out with a loud voice, the seventh time, saying,
'•Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit."
With which he yielded up the ghost.
JESUS DIES UPON THE CROSS.
At this strong and vehement cry of our Lord Jesus,
a centurion who was standing by was converted, and
immediately said, "Verily, this man is the Son of
God ;" because he heard him cry so loud when he
expired.
Oh, in what a sad and sorrowful condition may we
well suppose was the tender heart of his blessed
mother, when she beheld him to languish in so pain
ful a manner, to cry out, and to die in her presence !
We may easily believe that her spirits failed her, and
tliat she was ready to give up the ghost with him,
much more than when she met him carrying his
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 313
cross. And what can we think of Mary Magdalen,
of St. John, his beloved disciple, and of the other two
sisters of our Lady 3 Undoubtedly their sorrow was
inexpressible, they were loaded with grief, and over
whelmed with bitterness and tears, without comfort
of any kind, and knew not what to do.
Behold now our Lord Jesus hangs dead upon the
cross, and the multitude of people return again to
the city. But his most afflicted mother, with the
other four, remain still near him, feeding their souls
with the divine contemplation of their beloved, and
waiting for help from God, that they might have
him taken from the cross, and buried.
If you also, Christian soul, will behold your Lord
in devout contemplation, you cannot but conceive a
tender compassion, seeing that from the crown of his
head to the sole of his foot there was no part of him
left whole ; there was no member, nor any sense
which had not their extreme pain and affliction. Em
ploy thyself then in the daily study of these suffer
ings of thy Lord, and make them the frequent sub
ject of thy devout meditation.
In chapter LXVI, THE OPENING OF OUR BLESSED SAVIOUR'S SIDE WITH
A SPEAR.
WHILE the blessed mother of our Lord Jesus,
with St. John, St. Mary Magdalen, and the
two sisters of our blessed Lady sat near the cross,
with her eyes attentively fixed on her beloved son,
contemplating him thus hanging dead between two
thieves, forsaken and abandoned, there came many
314 TUB LIFE OF OUR
men from the city towards them ; being sent to break
the legs of those who were crucified, and to kill them
downright, if they were not already dead, that their
bodies might not be seen hanging on the crosses upon
the Sabbath-day. Our blessed Lady, with the others,
rose up to look, and saw them coming, but knew
not for what reason : wherefore their sorrow was
renewed, and their fears increased as they saw
them advance nearer. His blessed mother being
more sensibly affected than the rest, and not know
ing what to do, turned herself towards her beloved
son, ami said, " My most dear son, to what end, I
beseech thee, do these cruel butchers return hither
again ? What more do they intend to do ? Have
they not already taken away thy life? I was in
hopes that they were satisfied with what they had
done before to thee while thou wast living : But
now it seems that they have not yet done with thee,
but they will further pursue thee dead. I know
not, my beloved son, how to act, since I am as un
able of helping thee now as I was before in deliver
ing thee from death. I will approach, however,
and stand near the cross, at thy blessed feet, and
beseech thy heavenly Father to render them favor
able towards thee."
Hence they all five, bitterly weeping, went and
placed themselves before the cross of our Lord Jesus.
And the multitude, hastily advancing, came with
great shouts and noise, and seeing that the two thieves
were yet living, with great rage they broke their
legs, and killed them, and taking them down, cast
them into a ditch. And then returning they came
to our Lord Jesus. And his blessed mother,
pierced to the heart with grief, fearing they might
do the same to him, in an agony of humility, kneel
ing down before them, with her arms extended, and
LORD JESUS CHRfST. 315
with a loud and compassionate voice, spoke to
them in this manner : "I beseech you, brethren,
for the love of God, most High and Almighty,
that you will no more afflict; or torment me in
my most dear son : I am truly his most sorrow
ful and disconsolate mother, whom you know has
never injured or offended you. And if my beloved
son seemed to oppose you, you have put him to
death for it. What more can your revenge require 1
Forbear then to insult him any longer, and I will for-
giv<- the injuries you have hitherto done me in his
death and sufferings. But oh, be thus far merciful
in your cruelty ; touch not his dear corpse, but suffer
me to carry it whole to the sepulchre. What will it
avail you to break his limbs, who has already ex
pired this hour past?" Thus did the sacred Virgin
persist on her knees, with John and Magdalen,
and the other devout women, weeping and entreat
ing those inhuman butchers ! O sacred Lady, to
what purpose do you thus demean yourself to those
barbarous wretches ! Can you hope for any success
with such inexorable savages ? Will pity make the
impious relent ? Will the merciless give yearnings
of mercy, or pride bend to humility ? Alas ! your
endeavors are ineffectual ; condescension is the aver
sion of the haughty.
One Longinus, at that time a proud and wicked
man, but afterwards a convert, a saint, nay, a martyr,
stretched forth his lance, and seeming to give ear to
their cries, pierced our Lord's sacred side, when im
mediately from the wound gushed forth a stream of
water and blood. At the sight his disconsolate mother
fell into a swoon, in the arms of Magdalen : and
while St. John and the holy women were busied in
supporting and restoring our blessed Lady, the im
pious butchers departed. And now at her recovery,
316 THE LIFE OF OUR
a new taste of death succeeded the former, when she
beheld her beloved and divine sun, hanging dead on
the cross in such a mangled and deplorable condi
tion. Oh, how many strokes of death did not this
spotless Lady feel on this day ! Who can doubt of
their being equal in number to the insults and cruel
ties used to him ? And thus was fulfilled what Simeon
foretold, that " the sword of sorrow should pierce her
soul." Thus did one lance, with the same sacrile
gious stroke, pierce the blessed body of Jesus and
the sacred soul of Mary.
When our blessed Lady was recovered, they all
sat down at the foot of the cross, at a loss what to do
or how to act. How to take down and where to de
posit the holy corpse they could not contrive, for
want of strength and for want of a sepulchre to put it
in. To depart and leave him on the cross in that
condition, they knew not how to resolve, and to re
main there long was neither decent nor safe, for night
was coming on. What perplexity ! O bountiful God,
how didst thou suffer this thy favorite, this mirror of
all virtues, this our sacred advocate and protectress
to be afflicted ? Surely it were time she had some
respite from the excess of anguish.
In chapter LXVII, THE DESCENT OF OUR LORD FROM THE CROSS.
AGAIN they saw several persons coming along
the road : these were Joseph of Arimathea,
and Nicodemus, and some persons with them, who
brought instruments to take down the sacred body
from the cross, and a great quantity of myrrh and
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 317
aloes to embalm it. This gave them a new alarm, not
knowing at a distance but they might be persons
coming to offer new outrages to the blessed corpse.
Wherefore, they all arose, and immediately falling
on their knees, applied themselves to prayer, be
seeching God to avert the affliction they seemed again
threatened with. At length, however, St. John dis
covered who they were, and returning thanks to
God, they all began to be comforted. Our blessed
Lady then dispatched St. John to meet them, who
brought them to the cross where the holy women
were, and presented them to the afflicted mother of
God. Our blessed Lady received them graciously,
and with all the joy compatible with her present
state of grief. Joseph and Nicodemus condoled with
her and the pious company. Then all falling on
their knees, adored the sacred relict of our Lord,
and after some time spent in devout and humble
prayer and religious homage, they all again arose
and prepared to take him down from the cross.
While the holy company are busied in their de
vout offices to Christ, endeavor, pious reader, to be
as devoutly attentive to all that passes. Two
ladders then are fixed to the cross, one to each arm.
And whilst Nicodemus goes up to that on the left
hand, Joseph ascends the other on the right, and
labors to draw the nail with which that hand is
fastened. This was done not without great diffi
culty, and bruising the divine flesh, for the nails
were of an immoderate size. The action, however,
was acceptable to God, inasmuch as it was a violence
that was unavoidable and done through the utmost
purity of intention and liveliness of faith. When
Joseph had drawn out the nail, St. John made a
sign to him to give it to him with privacy, which
when he received, he hid it in his bosom, that the
318
THE LIFE O>' OUR
afflicted Virgin might not see it. Then Nicodemus
extracted the nail from the left hand, and gave it
likewise to St. John, who joined it devoutly with
the former. When the nails were thus drawn from
the hands of our blessed Redeemer, Nicodemus de
scended to draw out that which fastened his
heavenly feet, while Joseph supported the body.
Oh, thrice happy Joseph, who was deemed worthy
to embrace so divine, so inestimable a treasure !
While Joseph held the sacred body leaning on his
arms, our blessed Lady took hold of the hand which
hung down, and pressing it reverently and tenderly
JE8UB IS PREPARED FOR BURIAL.
to her face and lips, kissed it, pressed it, and de
voutly bathed it with tears. Oh, nature, what a
spectacle ! Oh, human heart, what must thou be,
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 319
not to melt at such a sight ! When the nail was ex
tracted from the feet, Joseph descended by degrees,
while the others received the heavenly body of our
Lord, and reposed it decently on the ground. Our
blessed Lady then raised the holy head and shoul
ders, and placed them on her lap, and the Magda
len prostrating herself, embraced his sacred feet,
whence she had once received such a plenitude of
grace. All the rest stood round joining their sighs
and tears, and bitterly bemoaning the only begotten
Son of God, thus disfigured by base, ungrateful
man.
In chapter LXVIII, THE EMBALMING AND BURIAL OF OUR LORD.
AFTER a short s^:. e, as night was drawing on,
Joseph besought our Lady to permit him to
embalm und wrap up the sacred body in the fine
linen he had brought with him for that purpose.
But she knew not how to part with the dear trea
sure so soon again. "I entreat you, my friends,'
said she, " rob me not so soon of my dear, my only
son, of all that is dear to me in this life ; rather, if
you are in haste to bury him, lay me in the sepulchre
near him. Oh, that I might, dearest Jesus, lie by
thee, and never be separated from thee." Tears
flowed down her virgin cheeks, and sobs forbid her
words an utterance. Silent and sad she viewed the
lovely, mangled form ; now she examined, one by
one, the reeking wounds still fresh and full of
clotted blood, now she picked out, with care and
cruel anguish, one after another, the long and
splintered thorns still buried in his temples : now
320 f;//V L1FK OF OUR
she beheld his head, and now his face, composing
the few straggling hairs which blinded inhumanity
had left upon his head and beard ; and washing off
the dirt and spittle from his divine countenance with
floods of tears ; unsatiated with weeping, sighing,
and gazing on the object of her anguish. Thus
fixed, and immovable, the afflicted mother dwelt
on the beloved form of her divine son, and was not
to be removed from him, till St. John, with rever
ence approaching, entreated her to consider the late
ness of the day, and to consent that Joseph and
Nicodemus might do their pious offices in time, to
prevent any insults or calumnies of the Jews. To this
remonstrance the wise and humble Virgin yielded,
remembering well that her dearest Jesus had re
commended her to the care of this faithful and lov*
ing disciple. And therefore, without contending
she gave them her blessing, and permission, to dress
and wrap him up. St. John then, with Joseph and
Nicodemus, immediately embalmed the holy body
and wrapped it in the fine linen cloth While they
were busied about the body, the blessed Virgin still
kept the head upon her lap, and Magdalen was still
officious about his feet. There knelt the illustrious
penitent, almost dissolved with the excess of her
grief, and now on those sacred limbs, which com
punction had elsewhere bathed with her tears, un
speakable grief and tender compassion made her
pour a double flood. She beheld those dear feet
cruelly pierced and torn, mangled and bloody, but
could not behold them clearly through the bitter
ness of her weeping. The Evangelist bears witness
that she loved exceedingly, and therefore who can
be amazed that she should grieve exceedingly, to
see our Lord, whom she thus loved, and to see him
thus mangled, dead, and reduced almost to noth-
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 821
ing? Scarce could her breast contain her heart,
thus enlarged with panting anguish ; nor is it im
probable that, if she might, she would have gladly
expired at the feet of her dead Lord. This was the
ninth and last office she could pay her divine mas
ter, and in doing this, how bitterly did. she grieve,
that she could not do it in the manner she wished.
She would fain have laid out the blessed body,
anointed, and wrapped it wholly of herself, with
that decency and reverence due to it. But neither
the time nor place would permit it ; for she could
not do more at that time, nor in a better manner,
than to bathe his venerable feet with her tears, dry
them with her locks, kiss them, and reverently
wrap them in the linen ; this she did, and did it
with a diligence equal to her affection.
When the body of our divine Saviour was wrapped
up, they all turned their looks towards our blessed
Lady to learn her pleasure, and share her parting
grief. And she, finding there was now no more time
to delay, threw her face on that of her heavenly
son. "Oh, precious son Jesus ! do I still hold you
dead on my lap ! And must I, must I then part
from you ? 0 cruel, unspeakable, cruel divorce of
death. Sweet and delightful was our converse with
each other, and free from injury or offence to any, why
then do I see you, sweet offspring of my bowels, thus
mangled and murdered like a public nuisance ? How
faithfully, how dutifully, how tenderly did you,
when alive, wait on and cherish me : yet what re
turn was I able to make you in this dreadful con
flict ! Your heavenly Father was able alone to
assist you : I could not ; and he, for his ineffably
divine reasons, would not. Blessed be his holy
name alike for all he has done. But why, my only
joy, did you abandon yourself ? Ah ! it was for the
322 THE LIFE OF OUR
generous love of mankind, whom you came to re«
deem. Alas, how dear has this redemption cost
you ! Yet dear as it has been, as it redounds to
your glory and their salvation, I submit to, nay,
rejoice at it. And if I do grieve, forgive me, all-
bounteous Jesus, forgive me these tears and sighs,
which surely are but due from so lovely, loving,
and divine a son. How can I refrain from tears,
when I behold to what a deplorable condition the
sins of man have brought you ? You have neither
sin nor harm in you. But now, alas! our social
converse with each other is broken off. Well, since
it is your will, it shall be mine; and these hands,
in obedience to your divine pleasure, shall bury
your sacred body. And then whither, or to whom
shall I, your afflicted mother, fly for protection?
How shall I live without you ? Oh, that one tomb
might contain us both, that we might never be sep
arated in body any more than in mind ! Go then,
lovely Jesus ! Go to your sepulchre, and since my
body may not be there entombed with yours, my
soul shall still accompany you thither, and there
forever dwell with you. To you, then, I offer and
recommend it. Oh son, oh dearest, oh divine son,
how hard is this separation !" — A flood of tears fol
lowed her words, and bathed the sacred face of
Christ more plentifully than those of Magdalen had
bathed his feet. She wiped them off, however, and
kissing his lips and eyes, wrapped up the holy
head in the linen. After which all again falling on
the ground, and paying their adorations, took the
sacred body and bore it to the monument, our
blessed Lady holding up the head, St. Mary Mag
dalen the feet, and the rest the body.
Near the place where our Saviour was crucified
was a sepulchre, in which they buried our LorcJ,
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
323
with reverence, tears, sighs, and adorations. After
he was laid in the monument, the afflicted mother
embraced him, and clung to him for awhile ; but
JESU8 18 LAID IN THE TOMB.
St. John and the women raised her, and rolled a
great stone against the entrance of the monument.
Venerable Bede tells us, that this monument was a
kind of round mansion, hewn out of a rock be
neath, so high that a man could not reach, with his
arm perpendicularly raised, to the roof of it. Its
entrance stood eastward : and in it our Lord's body
was placed in a tomb, on the north side, of seven
feet long.
324 THR LXIS vjf QUA
CHAPTER LXIX.
OUB BLESSED LADY'S DEPARTURE FROM THE SEPUL
CHRE, AND RETURN TO MOUNT SIGN.
WHEN Joseph of Arimathea had completed
his office of burying onr Saviour, and was
about returning to Jerusalem, he came to the Blessed
Virgin, and entreated her, with many solicitations,
to retire to his house, with the companions and
sharers in her grief, offering it, and all he was master
of, to her service and command. But our blessed
Lady graciously returning him thanks, excused her
self from going thither, because she was committed
by her son to the care of his beloved disciple John ;
who, when Joseph turned to him to beseech him to
prevail upon her to honor his house with her sacred
presence, told them all, that he must lead her im
mediately to Mount Sion, the place where Jesus
had but the night before supped with his disciples,
and where he himself proposed to remain with her.
Upon which, they forthwith adored at the sepulchre,
and after paying their submission to the holy vir
gin, and their respects to her company, they went
their way ; but our blessed Lady, St. John, and
the devout women remained sometime longer op
posite to the sepulchre.
At length St. John remonstrating to our blessed
Lady, that it was neither safe to remain there late at
night, nor decent to enter the city much later in the
day, she humbly arose, and kneeling before the sep
ulchre, embraced it, saying, " Farewell, my dearest,
best-beloved son ; since I may not, must not stay
longer near you, I recommend you to your eternal
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 325
Father's all-wise and almighty care." Then lifting
her eyes to heaven, with abundance of tears, and
heart full of grief, said, " To you, O eternal Father, I
recommend this dear deposit of your and my only
begotten son. Oh, take under your protection, and
guard from every insult his precious body, and with
it accept my soul, which I here leave together with
it." Then rising, she departed with her companions
from the monument.
When they came again to the cross, she kneeled
down and adored, saying, "Here died my dear, my
precious son ; here he poured out the generous sea
of blood for man's redemption.*' And after her ex
ample all did the same. Nor is it without good
grounds that we may believe our blessed Lady to
have been the first reverer of the cross. When they
approached the city, the women veiled her like a
widow, waiiing, distressed, and afflicted before her,
whilst she proceeded with her head and face quite
covered, between St. John and St. Mary Mngdalen.
At their entrance into it, a pious contention arose
between Magdalen and St. John ; she pleading hard
that our blessed Lady might come to reside at her
house, alleging the goodness with which our Lord
had honored her in his life- time in resorting to it ;
he on the other hand, being desirous of leading the
sacred virgin to Mount Sion, where he said she would
be safer, and more within the reach of all their friends.
Accordingly our blessed Lady determined to go
thither, and Magdalen followed her. As they passed
through the city many devout persons of both sexes
met her, condoled with her, and cried aloud against
the injustice done to her divine son, as they accom
panied her to the house whither she was repairing
When she arrived at the place where she was to re
main, turning to her attendants, she returned them
326 '-THE LIFE OF OUR
thanks, and they submissively bowing, paid het
homage and condolence. Our Lady was followed by
her two sisters and Magdalen into the house : after
which St. John, placing himself at the door, returned
thanks to the rest, and on account of the lateness of
the evening, dismissed them. But with eyes dis
consolate did this childless mother look round the
house, where she could no more see the object of all
her delight. " O fair and beauteous, O lovely son !"
she said, "where art thou now ? O John ! where is
my only son ? O Magdalen ! where is thy master,
that more than parent, who loved thee so tenderly ?
O beloved sisters ! where is my Jesus ? Every joy
is now fled from me — every sweetness, every pleas
ing sight now vanishes from my eyes — now he is no
more before me. Alas, alas, what agonies he suf
fered ! Alas, how my grief augments whenever I
look back and consider him all torn, all bruised, dis
figured, sighing, panting, and fainting with thirst,
anguish, and violence ! What insults, what torments,
and what taunts did he not go through ! And I, in
vain, wished to comfort him His foes inhumanly
abused him— his friends meanly and shamefully for
sook him — his poor, his tender mother, wanted power
to help him— and his Father, his Almighty Father,
would not rescue him. And with what haste was
he not hurried to the cruel, inhumanly cruel, un
naturally cruel slaughter ! What wretch so vile was
ever condemned, and executed with so much injus
tice, barbarity, and precipitation, as my poor inno
cent, inoffensive son, Jesus ! Oh, my son ! in this
last and unhappiest of nights wast thou basely be
trayed, inhumanly seized, perfidiously condemned,
and now cruelly crucified, thou liest unjustly mur
dered ! 0 dearest Jesus ! how bitter is this separa
tion from thee and how insupportable the sad
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 327
reflection on thy undeserved, ignominious death !"
Thus went on this tender, this afflicted mother, till
St. John at length besought her to desist from her
excessive grief, and administered comfort to her. Do
you, amidst your pious contemplation, wish to do the
like, devout reader ; obey her, minister to her, and
attend and comfort her ; join with St. John in pre
paring something for her refection, and for those who
are with her, who are all fasting and faint. And when
you have indulged yourself awhile in this pious,
spiritual officiousness, procure the virgin's blessing,
and depart.
CHAPTER LXX.
MEDITATION ON OUR BLESSED LADY5 8 CONVERSATION
WITH HER DEVOUT COMPANIONS.
ON the morning of the Sabbath, they all remained
in the house with the doors shut, extremely
afflicted, and mourning like orphans for the loss of a
tender parent, without uttering a syllable, but looking
dejectedly on each other, as is usual on occasions of
extreme grief, and supplying their want of words with
abundant sighs. While thus they sit distressed, a
sudden knocking at the door alarms and dismays
them, for all courage is departed from them ; but
John going to the door, finds it to be Peter, and re
moves their fears by acquainting them with it. Peter,
with the sacred virgin's leave, being admitted, full of
confusion, anguish and repentance, approaches, but
without being able to utter a word. After him came,
one by one, the rest of the disciples, weeping and
abashed. At length, when their tears and sighs are
abated, they begin to talk of their deceased Lord.
328 THE LIFE OF OUR
"0 how I blush from my soul," says Peter, "and
how well my confused conscience tells me, that I am
unworthy to speak in your presence, sacred Lady, or
even to be seen by mankind, after having so shame
fully denied and forsaken my divine Master, who
loved me to so great a degree !" In like manner all
the other disciples, with tears, beating their breasts,
and in deep sorrow, accused themselves for having
abandoned their Lord in his passion. But the gra
cious virgin mother consoled them, saying, ''Alas!
my children, your and my bountiful master, and faith
ful shepherd, has now departed from us for awhile
and left us like orphans without a parent. However,
I finally trust to his goodness, that he will soon be
with us again. And you know how good and indul
gent he is, and how much he loves you all. Despair
not then, but confidently rely on his goodness for your
reconciliation, and depend on his pardon for every
fault and offence you have hitherto committed against
him ; for he knows full well the frailty of your nature,
and the greatness of the temptation. By his Al
mighty Father's permission, such was the fury and
outrage of his enemies, that your staying with him
could not have been of service to him : therefore, be
not discouraged." "Truly, O benign Lady," says
Peter, " thus far what you say I hope will in some
measure alleviate my offence : it was the very fury
you speak of which so terrified me as to make me
think myself in danger of falling a victim to it ; and
that terror it was which made me so shamefully deny
my Lord. Nor did I at the instant reflect on the
words by which he foretold this denial." Magdalen
then inquiring concerning the prediction of our Lord,
Peter told her the circumstances of it, and added, that
our Lord told them many things at his last supper.
Upon which, our blessed Lady desiring to be informed
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 329
of all the particulars of what her divine son had done
and said on that occasion, Peter made a sign to John,
and John related the whole particulars. And then,
as well concerning this as other occasions, they re
lated among themselves, several things which Christ
had taught and practised among them, and thus
they passed the whole day in talking of him. O
how attentively did Magdalen, and much more our
blessed Lady, listen to all this ! O how often did
she that day cry out, "Blessed foiever he my holy
son, Jesus." Behold then diligently, and compas
sionate them in the extreme affliction, with which this
day overwhelms them. — For what a sight was it to
behold the queen of Heaven and earth, the princes
of the holy church and the director of Christ's people,
seized with so great sorrow, and forced to hide them
selves in that little house, not knowing what to do,
having nothing to comfort them, but only to commu
nicate together, and repeat the former sayings and
actions of their divine Lord and master, Jesus. Our
blessed Lady, however, remained with a peaceful and
serene mind, being always firm and constant in the
certain hope of her son' s resurrection ; in which hope
she persisted the whole Sabbath ;* for which reason
the Sabbath is a day specially dedicated by the
church to her. Her comfort, however, was not
wholly free from grief, whenever she thought on
the bitter death and sufferings of her blessed son.
Now when the snn was gone down, and it was
lawful for them to work, Mary Magdalen, and the
other Mary that was with her, went out to buy cer
tain sweet spices to make ointment to anoint the
body. For the night before, after they came from
the sepulchre, they began to make things ready for
* The Sabbath here meant is the Jewish Sabbath, which corres
ponds to our Saturday.
330 THE LIFE OF
it till sunset ; after which time they ceased : for, ac
cording to the law, they were obliged to keep the
Sabbath, from sunser the evening before, till the set
ting of the same on the Sabbath evening. Behold
them now, how they go with sorrowful and mourn
ful countenances, and apply to some devout good
man for the spices they had occasion for: and he,
tenderly compassionating their affliction, willingly
supplied them. Wherefore, choosing the best they
could find, they returned home, and applied them
selves to compound a precious ointment, after the
best manner they were able.
Cast an eye towards them, and behold how they
labor for our Lord Jesus: weeping, sighing, and
sorrowful ! Our blessed Lady and the Apostles
stood looking on, and no doubt, when needful, as
sisted them ; which done, and night being come,
they ceased, and retired to repose, which, we may
piously imagine, was very little.
CHAPTER LXXL
OUB LORD JESUS DESCENDS INTO THB LIMBO OF THE
FATHERS.
WE are now to consider what our blessed Lord
did on this day of the Sabbath. You are to
know, then, that as soon as he expired, his blessed
soul descended into that part of hell called Limbo,
where the souls of the Fathers were detained, and
there he remained with them. During which time
they were in possession of glory ; for the vision of
God is the perfect glory of the blessed. Oh, how
great was his bounty ; how great lus love, and how
LORD JSSUS CHRIST. 831
great his humility ! He could, if he had pleased,
have delivered his servants by means of an angeli
cal messenger, who might have conducted them to
his presence, in whatever place he had chosen ; but
this, his infinite love and humility would not suffer
him to do. Wherefore, he himself descended ; and,
though Lord of all, visited them, not as servants,
but as intimate and familiar friends, and remained
with them, till near break of day the Sunday fol
lowing. Think well on this, and endeavor to copy
after so great a pattern.
The holy Fathers were in an ecstacy of immense
joy at the approach of their Redeemer. All anxiety
then gave place to ineffable delight ; and their peti
tions and solicitations, for a speedy deliverance from
this state of captivity, were changed into praises
and thanksgiving, for the inexpressible benefit of
their redemption. When, therefore, the soul of
Jesus advanced towards them, imagine you see the
holy tribe assembled together, hastening with
transports of the most earnest alacrity to meet him,
and crying out to him, " Blessed be the Lord God
of Israel, because he has visited, and wrought the
redemption of his people." " Raise up your droop
ing heads, O afflicted fellow captives, for behold your
redemption is coming. Rise up, rise up, O Jerusa
lem, break the chain from off your neck ; behold
the Saviour comes to ransom us from our fetters."
" Lift up your gates, O princes, and be ye lifted up,
O eternal gates, and the King of Glory shall enter
in." "We adore you, 0 Christ, and we bless you,
our most loving God." And thus falling down,
they adored him with unspeakable joy and grati
tude. Thus did they continue in praise and thanks
giving, before our Lord, till the dawn of the third
dav : at which time our Lord, heading those happy
332 THE LIFE OF OtTft
souls, led them glorious and triumphant, from that
subterraneous place of their captivity, to that
earthly paradise of delights, where those glorious
prophets of God, Elias and Enoch, are waiting the
coming of Antichrist, whom they are appointed to
oppose. Here our blessed Redeemer staid some
time with them ; and here they still persisted, in
conjunction with those two venerable men, in prais
ing, thanking and glorifying their all-gracious bene
factor. At length our Saviour said, that it was
time for him to leave them, and to depart, and re
sume his sacred body, by a glorious resurrection.
"Go then," say they, "O divine, O bounteous Re
deemer, O King of Glory ! complete the merciful
work you have so graciously begun, and so divinely
carried on ; but oh, vouchsafe speedily to return to
us, that our joy may be redoubled in the desirable
sight of your sacred body, which we have so long
and so earnestly desired, and sighed after."
You see then, O devout reader, that you need not
want matter for pious meditation during the inter
val between our Lord's death and resurrection.
Hitherto I have made but few and short meditations
on the passion of Christ, that the mind might not be
taken off from attending to the series of his suffer
ings ; but now it will not be improper to make some
serious reflections concerning it. Hear, therefore,
what St. Bernard says :
"What think you, O Christian soul? Can you
owe anything less than your whole life to Christ,
who generously laid down his precious life for you,
and bore the most excruciating torments to free you
from bearing them to all eternity ? Were the lives
of all the sons of Adam, the splendor of the angels,
and the worth of the whole creation, to be united in
»ne living creature, yet would such a creature bf
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 333
nothing in comparison with his body so stupendously
beautiful. Were all the excellent talents of every
animated being to be centered in one, what would
they be to the superior virtues assembled in his con
ception from the Holy Ghost, in his birth from a
virgin, in the innocence of his life, in the elegance
of his doctrine, in the brilliancy of his miracles, in
the revelation of his sacraments and mysteries!
Were all the torments which nature can suffer to be
inflicted on one being, yet would they be nothing in
value to what he went through in the series of his
life, passion and death. The heavens then are not
so high exalted above the earth as his ways are above
ours, and his life above our life. Nay, a mere
nothing, an unexisting nothing, bears as great a
proportion to something, as our life does to his.
Nothing can be more excellent than this, nothing is
more miserable than that. Our life is all corruption,
his life purity itself : ours of no worth, his of im
mense value. And yet he grudged not to lay down
that precious life, to save us from eternal death. O
excess of goodness ! When therefore we have de
voted to him our life, and all that is valuable in it,
we still fall short of what he has done for us, and
our offering is no more to be compared to his, than
the twinkling light of the remotest star to the lustre
of the sun, the least drop of water to a great river,
a pebble to an enormous mountain, or a grain of
wheat to a summer's harvest.
" It was not of trivial matters, that this blessed Re
deemer stripped himself for you. He lowered him
self, and that not a little, to exalt you : he lowered
himself to flesh, he lowered himself to death, and the
death of the cross. 0 who can express this excess
of humility, meekness, and condescension in the God
of majesty, deigning to put on flesh, to be punished
334 THE LIFE OF 0 UR
with death, to be disgraced with a cross? Perhaps
it may be asked : but could not the Creator have re
paired the works of his own hands, without all this
difficulty ? Doubtless, he could ; but he chose to
do otherwise, though to his own cost ; that the base
and detestable crime of ingratitude might no more
take root in the heart of man. He suffered, there
fore, an immensity of hardships, to stimulate man to
pay him the just debt of immense love ; and to move
him, whom the facility of his creation had rendered
ungrateful and indevout, to be grateful and earnest in
thanksgiving for his redemption, which was wrought
with so much difficulty. How did ungrateful man
reason upon his creation ! I was made indeed out
of nothing, gratis, but I was made without any ex
pense or labor to my Maker : he said the word, and
I was made like all other beings. But now, ' the
mouth of them that speak lies was stopped.' And
now, O man, the immense cost which God has been
at in redeeming you, is as apparent as noon-day sun.
Your Redeemer, to ransom you, disdained not be
coming, from a sovereign Lord, an humble servant,
from infinitely rich, extremely poor, from the im
mortal word, mortal flesh, from the Son of God, the
son of man.
"Consider yourself rightly then, and remember
that if you were made of nothing, you were not re
deemed with nothing. In six days God created all
things, and you among the rest : but he was three
and thirty years upon earth, laboring and working
your redemption. O how hard did he toil, bear
ing the necessities of the flesh, the anxieties and
tribulations of the spirit, and all the severe trials
his enemies could put him to ! Did he not heap to
himself all the horrors of death, . and aggravate
those horrors with the ignominy of the cross?
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 335
"0 how amiable, lovely Jesus, how amiable to
me above all things, does thy chalice render thee !
that chalice, that bitter, bitter draught which thou
vonchsafedst to drink for our redemption ! This,
this demands, and justly demands, all our affections :
this alone ought to engross all our love : this alone
should suffice sweetly to attract, justly to win,
closely to knit, and forcibly to captivate us to
thee. You see then, pious reader, that the author of
nature was at no expense in the fabric of the world,
in comparison with what it cost the Redeemer of
nature to restore it. He only spoke, and the former
was made — he only gave his orders, and it was
created. But in the latter, his word was contra
dicted, his actions reprimanded, he was insulted
with torments, was punished with death, and reviled
with the cross.
"It was the height of infinite goodness in Christ
to deliver up his life a prey to death for us ; and to
pay down from out of his own sacred side, the full
ransom due to his eternal Father. In this, how
truly did he fulfil what the Psalmist sung of him —
' With the Lord is mercy, and with him plentiful
redemption.' Plentiful, indeed, was this redemp
tion, to effect which he poured forth not a single
drop, not from one part of his body, but rivers of
blood, from several parts. — Think then, O man, on
the greatness of your obligation ; think on the
debt of love you owe him. What is it he should
have done, and has not done for you? He has en
lightened you, when blind ; unbound you, when in
chains ; set you right, when astray ; and reconciled
you, when guilty. Who then can forbear running
willingly and cheerfully after him who delivers us
from errors, and connives at our frailties, who gives
us, whilst living, the means to merit, and bestows
336 THB LIFE OF OUR
on us in death, the reward of the merit he gives 1
What excuse can any one plead for not running
after the fragrant odor of his ointment? Not
surely that the fragrancy of it did not reach him.
The odor of his sweet-scented life has gone through
the whole earth. For the whole earth is full of his
mercy, and the effects of his mercy surpass all his
other works. He therefore who is insensible to, or
follows not this fragrant odor, is either totally dead,
or totally corrupted.
" The holy spouse in the canticles is not ashamed
of the blackness she borrowed from her spouse, to
resemble whom, is the summit of true glory. There
is nothing more glorious than to put on the black
ness of reproach, which Christ himself put on.
Hence, says the Apostle, with salutary transport,
' Far be it from me to glory in anything but the
cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.' How dear ought
the ignominy of the cross to be to all those who are
so happy as not to be at variance with him who
suffered on it for our sakes ? There is a blackness
in it, we must own, but that blackness is beautiful,
insomuch as it was the form and likeness of our
Lord. Whom else did Isaiah, in spirit, call the
man of sorrows, knowing infirmity, who, 'had
neither form nor comeliness? Him,' says he, 'we
esteemed stricken, smitten of God, and humbled:
but he was wounded for our transgressions, he was
bruised for our iniquities, and with his stripes we
are healed.'
" What, fellow Christian ! Did Christ not take
upon him the shame of sin for our sakes, and shall
we be ashamed of being vilified, or reputed black for
his sake ? Look attentively on this vilified Saviour,
disfigured in dress, and clothed with mock garments,
defaced with bloody wounds, defiled with nauseous
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 337
spittle, mortified with blows, and pale with death.
What more deformed, or blackened, could strike the
eyes of his beholders, than he, when, with his arms
wide extended on the cross, he afforded laughter to
his inveterate enemies, tears to the faithful, and agony
to convulsed nature, when he alone was a subject of
mockery and sport, who alone was worthy to com
mand respect, and able to inflict terror through the
whole universe ?
"Meditate, therefore, 0 pious reader, on the suffer
ings of that most sacred, crucified body, and see if
there is anything there, which does not plead for you
to the eternal Father. For you it is that that divine
head is pierced with innumerable thorns. 'My
people,' saith the Lord by his prophet, ' have covered
me all over with the thorns of their sins.' Lest
your head should ache, lest your intentions should be
wounded, his eyes were closed by death, and the
luminaries of the world were at that instant extinct.
At the darkening of his sacred eyes, those great
lights were eclipsed with the rest, and universal dark
ness overshadowed the whole earth. And why all
this, but that your eyes might be averted from be
holding vanity, or being attracted by it.
"Those blessed ears which perpetually hear in
Heaven, the exulting exclamation of * Holy, holy,
holy, Lord God of Sabbaoth ; ' heard upon earth,
4 thou hast a devil : crucify him, crucify him.' And
all this, that your ears might no longer be deaf to the
voice of God, or to the cries of the poor : but deaf
to detraction, deaf to discourses injurious to God, or
detrimental to your brother, and deaf to every vain
and unprofitable sound.
" That divinely beauteous face, the most comely of
all amongst the sons of men, was defiled with spittle,
disfigured with bruises, profaned with dirt, and ex-
338 THE LIFE OF OUR
hibited to scorn, that your face might be made fair
and shining ; and being confirmed in goodness, might
not turn to opposite extremes.
"That blessed mouth which directed angels, and
instructed men in heavenly knowledge, which only
spoke, and all things were done according to his
will, was drenched with vinegar and gall ; and why ?
But that your mouth and heart might thenceforth be
enabled to relish the sweets of truth, and confess
your God.
' ' Those heavenly hands, which moulded the heavens
and the earth, were barbarously stretched with
nails on the cross. Why did your guiltless Saviour
submit to this, but to purchase for you the grace of
keeping your hands ever open for the relief of the
needy and distressed ; and to qualify you to say with
the Psalmist : * My soul is always in my hands V
What we carry in our hands we cannot easily forget,
and thus he, who has his soul forever in his hands
by his indefatigable industry in good works, cannot
be unmindful of it.
"Those sacred feet whose very footstool we ought
to adore, because it is holy, were inhumanly trans
fixed with nails, that your feet might not hurry you to
evil, but run on in the way of the commandments of
your Gfod. ' They have pierced my feet,' says the
prophet in the person of Christ, ' they have num
bered all my bones.' For you he sacrificed his flesh
and his life, to purchase your body and soul ; and
thus he ransomed all you are, with all he is himself.
"Rouse up then, my soul, and shaking off your
dust, contemplate this memorable, this incomparable
man, this Man-God, whom you see before you in the
transparent crystal of the holy Gospel. Consider,
my soul, who this is, who proceeds with the
majestic Air of a monarch, though covered with th»
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 339
ignominy of a despicable slave ! He moves with a
crown on his head, but his diadem is an instrument
of torments, and his sacred temples are transfixed
with innumerable wounds from it. He is decked in
royal robes, but they are to him badges of t»coru in
stead of honor. He waves a sceptre in his hand,
not to command others, but to be struck with it him
self. He is adored with bended knees, proclaimed
a king, and receives the homage of a numerous
multitude, but they are marks of contempt and deri
sion ins tead of du ty and fidelity . His lovel y coun ten-
anceis spit upon, his beauteous cheeks are buffetted,
and his honorable neck bends under dishonor.
"Behold, my soul, how this sacred man of sor
rows is abused and reviled. He is commanded, all
faint and sinking beneath his stripes, to bend his
sacred shoulders under the heavy load of the cross,
and to bear his ignominy to the place of execution.
He is raised on the cross, he is insulted and scoffed
at there, and permitted no other comfort than a
draught of vinegar, mixed with gall. And in re
turn for all this usage, he only says, ' Father, for
give them, for they know not what they do.' What
a stupendous personage is this, who, amidst all his
torments and ill-usage, never once opened his mouth
to complain of, accuse, threaten, or curse the vile
brutes, who are busied in doing him such cruel in
justice! But, after all their ill-treatment of him,
he breaks forth into such terms of blessing as have
no example. What instances of meekness, patience
and goodness, can we produce like this ?
"But look, my soul, yet a little nearer, and see
how worthy he is of all your admiration and pity.
Behold him naked, and torn with stripes, suspended
by iron nails, on an ignominious cross, between two
thieves, plied with vinegar and gall, persecuted to
340
death, nay, eren beyond death, with a lance, which
rips open his sacred side. — And view him thus pour
ing forth five rivers of precious blood, from his
hands, feet, and sides ! Weep, O my eyes, and]thou,
O my soul, melt into tenderness, dissolve into pity
for this most lovely of the sons of men, whom thou
seest amidst all this meekness, oppressed with every
injurious treatment.
"0 look down, Lord, eternal Father! look down
from your sanctuary above, and behold this sacred
offering which our high priest, your holy Son Jesus
Christ, offers to you for the sins of us, his brethren,
and be propitious to the multitude of our iniquities,
and greatness of our malice. Behold the blood of
our brother Jesus, crying out to you from the cross,
'Behold, I am crowned with glory and honor.'
Earnest he stands, solici ting at your right hand for
us ; for he is our flesh, and our brother.
"Look, O Lord, on the countenance of Christ thy
Son, who is become obedient to thee, even to death,
and let not the marks of his wounds be ever from
before thy eyes, that thou mayest always remember
the satisfaction he has made to thee for our sins.
Would, O Lord, that the sins, by which we have de
served thy indignation, were placed in a balance with
the sufferings which thy most innocent son Jesus en
dured for us ! May every tongue return thee thanks
O Lord, for thy great goodness, who sparedst not
thy only son, but deliveredst him to death for us,
to the end we might have so great, so true an ad
vocate with thee in heaven ! And to thee, O blessed
Jesus, what acts of thanksgiving, or what tribute,
worthy thy acceptance, can I make, who am but
du?t and ashes, a vile compound of clay ? For what
was there wanting for my salvation, which thou
hadst not done ? From the crown of the head to the
LORD JESUS CHRIST 341
sole of the foot, thou wast wholly plunged in the
waters of suffering and affliction, to draw me out
of the same. The waters have entered even to thy
blessed soul. Thy soul was separated by death,
that thou mightest restore me mine, which I had
lost. Wherefore, thou hast bound me to thee by
a double debt, that is, by what thou hast bestowed
upon me, and by what thou has lost for my sake. I
am indebted to thee for my life, which twice thou
hast given me ; once in my creation, and once in
my redemption. Wherefore, I have nothing to
offer thee, which more justly is thy due, than my
life itself. I cannot find what recompense man can
make thee, O Christ, for thy precious soul, which
was so much troubled and burdened with affliction.
For were the heavens, the earth, and all the beau
ties belonging to them, in my power, they would
all fall short of the greatness of the debt I owe to
thee. It is thy gift, O Lord, that I even make thee
any part of that return which I owe thee. I ought
to love thee with all my heart, with all my soul,
with all my mind, and with all my strength ; and
to follow thy example, who vouchsafedst to die for
me. And how shall I be able to do this but by thy
help ? My soul shall follow close after thee, because
her whole strength depends on thee !"
Thus far St. Bernard. But let us now proceed to
the resurrection of our Lord Jesus.
342 THE LIFE
In chapter LXXII, THE GLOEIOUS RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD JESUS,
AND HIS APPEARANCE FIRST TO HIS BLESSED
MOTHER.
"PEARLY on the Sunday morning, before the
-L-' break of day, the soul of our blessed Jesus,
accompanied by a glorious tribe of blessed spirits,
returned again to the sepulchre where his body lay ;
and resuming the same, he arose by virtue of his
sacred divinity, and miraculously wect out of the
grave without opening it. About th same time,
Mary Magdalen, Mary of James, and Mary of
Salome, taking leave of our blessed Lady, set out
towards the sepulchre of our Lord ; taking with
them many precious ointments, which they had pre
pared for that purpose. The Blessed Virgin in the
meantime remained at home, fixed in devout prayer ;
which we may piously imagine she made in the
following manner : "Most merciful Father, full of
clemency and pity, you know that my most be
loved and blessed son is now dead and buried, and
that he was first cruelly fixed to a disgraceful cross
between two thieves ; and that after he had resigned
his blessed soul to you, I myself helped to place in
the sepulchre his sacred body, which I conceived
without blemish, and bore without pain. You
know, O Lord, he was all the good I possessed, all
I could desire, and the only comfort and life of my
soul. But at length he was suddenly snatched
^rom me, being full of sorrow, fall of wounds, rent
and scourged, and by his cruel enemies shamefully
abused and condemned to death ; so that he was
LORD JfflUS CHRIST. 343
forsaken by his disciples, who fled from him ; and I,
his disconsolate and afflicted mother, could no ways
help him. But now, O Father of mercy, though
at that time it pleased you not to deliver him from
that cruel and bitter passion, yet, as your holy will
is now fully accomplished, and it is in your power
to restore him again safely to me, I beseech your di
vine majesty to do it. Why does he tarry so long ?
Send him to me speedily, O most bountiful Father,
for my soul can have no peace till I behold him. O
my most sweet son Jesus, where art thou now?
What art thou doing ? And why dost thou stay so
long before thou comest to relieve me ? Delay no
longer I beseech thee, but come ; for thou thyself
saidst, that thou wouldst arise on the third day ;
and is that day now come ? Rise therefore, my
beloved, my joy, and comfort me with thy pres
ence, whom thou hast so much afflicted with thy
absence."
As our Lady was thus praying, bathed in a flood
of tears which flowed from her lovely eyes, our
blessed Lord suddonly appeared, and stood before
her robed in white, and with a pleasing and lovely
aspect comforted her, saying, "Hail, holy parent."
She, surprised with sudden joy, said, "Art thou
my blessed son, Jesus?" and bowing down, she
adored him. And he again said to her, "It is I,
my beloved mother. I am risen from death, and
am now present with you. My sorrows have ceased.
I have triumphed over death, and have overcome all
my pain and anguish, so that they can never more
have any power over me." To whom she answered,
'* Blessed be thy omnipotent and eternal Father,
who has comforted me again with thy presence :
may his holy name be exalted, magnified, and
praised forever." Thus lovingly conversing to-
344 THE LnrE OF OUR
gether, our Lord Jesus related to her the things he
had wrought in those three days, after his passion,
and how he delivered the fathers from the prison
in which they were confined. Wherefore, this is a
sovereign Pasch, this the joyful day of which the royal
prophet spoke, saying, "This is the day which the
Lord hath rnnde ; let ns rejoice arid be glad therein."
TWO ANGELS IN SHINING ROBES DECLARE HIM RISEN.
In chapter LXXIII, THE COMING OF THE THREE MARYS TO THE MONU
MENT, AND THE RACE BETWEEN PETER AND JOHN.
MAGDALEN, as we have said before, in com
pany with the two Marys, went to the monu
ment with the ointments. When they came to the
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 345
entrance of the sepulchre, they were concerned as
to how they should get in ; who will roll away the
stone for us from the monument, say they ? But
no sooner had they said it, than looking up they
saw the stone removed, and an angel sitting upon it,
who said to them, "Be not afraid." They, how-
ever, disappointed of their hopes, by not finding
the body of our Lord, gave little attention to the
angel ; but running back affrighted, told the dis
ciples that our Lord's body was taken away. Upon
which, Peter and John immediately arose, and ran
to the monument with zeal and anxiety, and the
Marys after them. When they came thither, they
found not the body, but only the winding sheet,
and other linen it was wrapped in Wherefore
they returned immediately with their eyes bathed in
tears, and their hearts rent with affliction. They
sought their Lord, but could not find him, nor knew
they now where or which way to seek him. — Com
passionate them then, pious reader, in so great an
affliction.
CHAPTER LXXIV.
OUR LORD S APPEARANCE TO THE HOLY WOME1T.
rT^HE Marys, however, remained there, and looking
JL towards the monument, saw two angels stand
ing clothed in white, who said to them, " Whom do
you seek? Bo you seek one living among the
dead?" But they gave no attention to the angels,
nor received any comfort from this vision. For they
came not to seek angels, but the Lord of angels.
Two of the Marys, therefore, lost and absorbed in
affliction, withdrew to a little distance from the monu-
346
LIFE OP
ment, and sat down to soothe their grief. While
Magdalen, at a loss what to do, and unable to live
without her divine Master, sat sadly pensive and
weeping at the mouth of the sepulchre ; where again
she saw the same angels, who again asked her,
" Woman, why do you weep ? Whom do you seek ?"
"They have taken away my Lord," said she, '* and
I know not where they have laid him." O wonder
ful operation of love ! One angel had told her he
was risen : and two others had assured her he was
alive ; and yet so forgetful is she as to say, I know
not. Love, divine love, was the cause of this self-
oblivion in Magdalen, for as Origen says on this
passage, her soul was not with her, but with her
divine master Hence she knew not — that is, she
APPEARS . > . i..i»: .a.n.nJ.»J.
LORD JEXUS CHRIST. 347
knew neither how to hear, remember, nor think with
out him. Wherefore, while thus she continued weep
ing, disconsolate, and regardless of all the angel said
to her, her divine master, overcome as it were by her
excess of love, appeared to her to console her, and
said, "Woman, whom seek you? Why do you
weep?" At first she knew him not, but inebriated
with affection, answered him, "Lord, if you have
taken my Lord away, tell me where you have put
him." Think then you see this glorious woman with
her face bathed in a flood of tears, beseeching, and
with every moving remonstrance earnestly conjuring
him to tell her where she may find the beloved object
she was in search, of : for still she hoped to hear
some glad tidings of him. How grateful a sight was
this to Christ ! He therefore again said to her,
" Mary 1" When immediately coming as it were to
herself, and knowing him by his voice, she cried out
in a transport of unutterable joy, " Rabbi ?" that is,
master ! " Ah, you are the sweet, the adorable Lord
I was seeking with so much eagerness. ' ' Then rising,
she ran to embrace his feet. But our Lord, to raise
her mind to a more celestial affection, and wean her
from his earthly presence, said to her, "Touch me
not, for I have not yet ascended to my Father : but
tell my brethren, I ascend to my Father, and yours."
After they had awhile conversed in a celestial manner
with each other, our Lord gave her his blessing, and
departed : when she, full of joy and spiritual com
fort, went to her companions, and told them the glad
some news. They were exceedingly overjoyed at
the tidings of our Lord's resurrection : but when
they found they were not blessed with a sight of him,
they departed homewards with grief and dejection.
But as the above-mentioned three Marys were pro
ceeding on their way, before they came to the
348 THE LIFE OF OUR
the benign Jesus vouchsafed to appear to them, sav
ing, " Hail ! " No sooner did they hear and see him,
than seized with a joy beyond the power of words to
express, they fell on their faces and adored him-
Here again our Lord vouchsafed to enter into a gra-
JESUS APPEARS TO THE COMPANY OF HOLY WOMEN.
cious and ineffable conversation with them for some
time, concerning his sublime mysteries. After which
he said to them — bid my brethren come to rne in
Galilee, there they will see me as I foretold them.
Admire here the great humility of our Lord Jesus, in
calling his poor lowly disciples his brethren. This
you see is a virtue, which Christ laid not aside even
after his resurrection. Meditate then devoutly on
those edifying subjects. And, if you be desirous of
reaping full advantage from the contemplation of
LORD JESUS Cllili»i\
them, endeavor to be as present in spirit, as these
holy persons were in body.
CHAPTER LXXV.
OUR LORD'S APPEARANCE TO JOSEPH, TO JAMES THE
LESS, AND TO PETER.
OUR Lord Jesus, after departing from the Marys,
appeared to Joseph of Arimathea, who had
buried him, and who was now in prison. For the
Jews had seized him and confined him in a jail, with
an intent to put him to death after the Sabbath.
Our Lord therefore appeared to him, and wiping off
the tears and damp from his face, led him ont, the
doors unopened, as ancient pious tradition informs
us. He also appeared to James the Less, who had
vowed never to taste any food, till he should see
our Lord risen from the dead. To him, therefore,
and to those who were with him, he commanded that
they should spread the table, then taking bread
and blessing it, he gave to him, saying, "Eat, my
beloved brother, for the Son of Man is risen from the
dead."*
When the Marys returned home, and acquainted
the disciples with the resurrection of Christ, Peter,
extremely afflicted that he had not seen his Lord, and
unable, through excess of love, to rest without see
ing him. arose immediately and went alone to the
sepulchre, not knowing where else so speedily to
find him. While he was proceeding on his way,
Jesus appeared to him, and said, "Peace be to you,
Simon Peter." Then Peter striking his breast, and
* See St. Jerome on Ecclesiastical Writers, torn.
350 THE LIFE OF OUR
prostrating himself on the ground, in a flood of tears,
cried out, "O Lord! O dearest Saviour! I have
sinned against thee ; I acknowledge my crime in
leaving thee in thy distress, and shamefully deny
ing thee thrice." And when his love and grief
stopped his words, he embraced his masters holy
feet, and tenderly kissed them. Our Lord then
raised him, and embracing him, said again : " Peace
on thee, Simon Peter : fear not, thy sins are for
given thee. Thy denial I foresaw and foretold thee,
and now I forgive thee. Go and confirm thy breth
ren in the belief of my resurrection. And be con
fident thyself, that I have conquered for thee all
thy enemies, and even death itself." Thus awhile
they stood solemnizing a glorious Pasch in heavenly
conversation. After this Peter returned to our
blessed Lady and the disciples, and related to them
all he had seen and heard. In the Gospel there is
no mention made of our Lord's appearing to his
sacred mother. I have, however, taken notice of it,
first because the Church seems to countenance my
doing so, as may appear more plainly in the legend
on the resurrection.
CHAPTER LXXVI. CHRIST'S RETURN TO THE HOLY FATHERS AFTER
HIS RESURRECTION.
OUR Lord not having yet visited the holy
Fathers after his resurrection, as soon as he
departed from Peter, took a numerous retinue of
angels, and went to visit them. When the venera
ble tribe saw him coming towards them, they went
to meet him with excessive transports of spiritual
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 36J
Joy, singing, "Behold, our king comes : let us meet
our Saviour ! Our mighty beginning, and his king
dom shall have no end! This is a blissful day
that shines forth to us! Come all, and obey the
Lord." Then prostrating themselves, they adored
him : and rising, continued singing with reverence,
fervor and joy, his praises, saying, "Thou hast
risen our glory : we will be glad and rejoice in thee.
Thy kingdom is of all ages ; and thy dominion
shall last from generation to generation. We de
part not from you; and you shall raise us,
and we will magnify your holy name. Our leader
is come forth ; made a high priest forever. This,
this is the day which the Lord hath made ; let us
be glad and rejoice thereon. The day of redemp
tion has shone forth to us, of ancient reparation,
and of eternal felicity. This day throughout the
universe, the heavens distil honey ; because the
Lord has reigned from a tree. The Lord has
reigned, he is clothed with beauty , the Lord is
clothed with strength, and hath girded himself.
Sing to him a new song, for he has wrought wonders.
His right hand and his holy arm hath saved us to
himself. For we are his people, and the sheep of
his pasture. Come let us adore him." When the
evening drew nigh, Jesus acquainted them with his
design of going again to visit his poor afflicted
brethren, who, after his death, were dispersed like
sheep having no shepherd, and were seeking him
with the utmost anxiety. "I will return there
fore," says he, "to them, that I may console and
strengthen them, and will soon come back to re
lease you." Then the holy Fathers, prostiating
themselves again, adored him, saying, "Go, Lord
Jesus, blessed be thy holy name ; and be all things
done according to thy divine word and will."
352
THE LIFE OF OUE
CHAPTER LXXVH.
CHRIST APPEARS TO THE TWO DISCIPLES GOING TO
EMMAUS.
AS two disciples were walking together towards
the little town of Emmaus, talking of what had
happened in a melancholy manner, and in a kind of
despondency about him, our Lord Jesus came up
to them, and in the form of a traveller joined in con
versation with them ; interrogating, answering, and
giving them salutary maxims, as the Gospel relates.
At length, suffering himself to be forced, he went in
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 353
with them, and manifested himself to them. Here,
pious reader, contemplate the goodness of Christ.
For, first, such is his ardent love for his disciples,
that he cannot suffer them long to wander in uncer
tainty and affliction. Like a faithful friend, a trusty
companion, and an affable Lord, he joins with them,
enquires the cause of their affliction, and expounds
the scriptures to them in such a manner as to
cleanse their hearts from all rust of earthly affec
tions, and influence them with divine love. Thus
does he daily behave towards us in a spiritual man
ner. If overcome by any afflictions, perplexities, or
languor of soul, we talk of him, he is immediately
with us, comforting, enlightening, and inflaming
our hearts with his love. Of such excellent advan
tage is it to us to talk of God in our adversities or
tribulation. Hence, says the prophet, "How sweet
are thy words to my taste, sweeter to my mouth
than honey and the honey-comb." And again,
"My heart waxed hot within me, and fire burns in
my meditation."
Secondly, behold the goodness of our Lord in
feigning that he was going farther, in order to in
crease their desire of his staying with them, and to
induce them to invite and detain him. How gracious
was it in him to go with them, to break bread, to
bless that bread with his sacred hands for them, and
afterwards to reveal himself to them ! Does he not
do the same towards us all, as often as we apply to
prayer and meditation ? Thus then does it behoove
Ui to pray without ceasing
854 2!H^ LIFE OF OUR
CHAPTER LXXVIIL
OUB LORD APPEARS TO THE DISCIPLES, WHO WERB
SHUT UP ON THE DAY OF THE RESURRECTION.
THE two disciples immediately returned to Jeru
salem, and finding all the other disciples, ex
cept Thomas, assembled together, they related what
had happened to them, where they likewise heard
in their turn, a confirmation of our Lord's being
risen, and having appeared to Simon. During this
conversation, our Lord Jesus himself came into the
room, the doors being shut, and saluted them all,
saying, " Peace be with you.' * The disciples seeing
our Lord, fell on their faces, and acknowledged
their fault in having fled at his passion, they re
ceived him with great joy. Our Lord then com
forted them, saying, "Rise, brethren, your sins are
forgiven you." After which he stood familiarly
amongst them, and showed the prints of his sacred
wounds. Meantime, the table being spread by his
order, he sat down, and eat part of a fish and some
honey which was set before him. Then he breathed
upon them, saying, "Receive ye the Holy Ghost."
O how full of joy and spiritual delight was this
interview !
Imagine, too, you see here our blessed Lady ; for
it was to her that the disciples flocked when they
assembled together after the death of our Lord. O
with what inexpressible joy is she not filled at the
sight of her glorious and triumphant son in the midst
pi his disciples, and how studious, how pleased, and
liow devoutly transported is she in doing little offices
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 355
of reverence and love towards him ! And how will
ing is our Lord to add to her delight by accepting
little services from her, and making her returns of
honor and affection before his disciples. Forget not,
likewise, to cast an eye of devotion towards Mary
Magdalen, that favorite among the disciples, that
kind of female apostle among the apostles. Fancy
you see her as usual, sitting at the feet of her divine
master, absorbed in attention to his divine words, and
transported with joy whenever she has an oppor
tunity of ministering to him. O how heavenly must
this mansion be, and what a blessing to be in it at
this delicious moment ! 0 this was a true Pasch !
Who must not rejoice to be present at it ? And
what delight must you not experience in contem
plating it ? But perhaps you are present at it, with
out being affected by it. Though if you were truly
attentive to the passion, and contemplated it with
a sincere feeling of the sufferings of Christ, of his
mother, and of his disciples, you cannot but now
partake in the joys of their Pasch. The same joys
you might renew on every Sunday, if you were care
ful likewise to renew on the preceding Friday and
Saturday, the devout memorial of his passion. For,
as St. Paul says, "If you are partakers of his
passion, so shall you be of his comforts."
8D6
2HE LIFE OF QU&
JE8U8 APPEARS TO HIS UNBELIEVING DI8CIPIJ6
CHAPTER LXXIX.
OUB LORD APPEARS TO THE DISCIPLES ON THE
OCTAVE OF EASTER. WHEN ST. THOMAS WAS WITH
If I
THEM. . \
AGAIN on the eighth day after his resurrection
our Lord Jesus appeared to his disciples, the
doors being shut. And now Thomas, who the time
before was not of their company, was present with
them. To whom, when they gave him an account of
Christ' s having vouchsafed them a visit, he answered,
" Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails,
L(s^L J^tfti CHRIST. 357
and put my finger in his side, I will not believe."
Christ then, the Good Shepherd, solicitous for his
little flock, in compassion to the frailty of this his
beloved disciple, stands before them all, and gra
ciously salutes them, saying, " Peace be with you."
Then addressing himself to Thomas, he said, " Reach
hither your finger and behold my hands ; stretch
forth your hand and put it to my side, and be not in
credulous, but faithful. ' ' Then Thomas, after having
touched the wounds of Jesus, falling on his face, said,
" My Lord and my God." Thus making reparation
for his former unbelief. For now, though he saw but
the humanity of our Lord, he confessed his divinity.
After this he joined with his fellow- disciples in ac
knowledging the fault of forsaking so divine a master
at the time cf his passion. But our Lord Jesus
graciously raised him up, bid him be cheerful, and
mercifully forgave him all former faults. It was
doubtless by special dispensation of heaven that
Thomas was permitted to hesitate in faith, that
Christ's resurrection might more evidently appear.
How glorious does the bounty and condescension of
this sweet Saviour shine forth in his conduct towards
his weak disciples, and particularly to Thomas, in
showing to them his sacred wounds, to remove from
their souls every cloud of doubt for their and our
advantage 1 Three great ends he proposed to him
self in preserving the prints of his sacred wounds ;
that by them he might confirm his apostles and make
them firm in the faith of his resurrection : that while
he was acting the office of our mediator with his
divine Father, he might the more easily appease him,
by showing them to his eternal majesty ; and finally,
that he might in the day of judgment clear himself
to the reprobate, by reminding them of what he had
suffered to redeem them, if they would have been
358 T1IK LIFE OF OUR
redeemed. Our Lord Jesus remains thus awhile
with his blessed mother and the beloved disciples,
talking with them of the kingdom of God, while
they stand listening to his ineffable doctrines, and
dwelling on his divine countenance, in raptures of
admiration, joy, and love. Observe them standing
round him, but our blessed Lady close by his side,
and Magdalen in her usual place, at his sacred feet.
Do you too stand there reverently, yet at a distance,
and perchance your humility, compunction, and
devotion may move his mercy to call you nearer to
him. At length, however, our divine Saviour left
them ; telling them that he should thence repair to
Galilee, where again they might see him ; and depart
ing he gave them his blessing. They remained then
awhile together, still hungering and thirsting after
him ; not satiated with his presence, though greatly
comforted.
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
369
Tli:: MISSION OF THE APOSTLES INTO THE WHOLE AVORLD, ACCORDING
TO HIS PROMISE.
CHAPTER LXXX.
OUR LORD JESUS APPEARS TO HIS DISCIPLES IN
GALILEE.
THE disciples were no sooner repaired to Galilee,
as our Lord had appointed them, than he ap
peared to them, suying, "All powtr is given to me
in heaven and earth : Go ye therefore and teach all
nations: BAPTIZING THEM IN THE NAME OF THE
FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLT
360
GHOST : teaching them to believe all those things I
have commanded you : and behold I am with you
always, even to the end of the world." — Matt, xxviii.
After this they all humbly adored him, and re
mained with him for some time with great joy and
satisfaction. Consider them well, and contemplate
the above mentioned words he spoke to them : for
they are full of mystery and heavenly consolation.
For, first, he showed them that he is Lord of all
things. Secondly, he gave them authority and a
command to preach. Thirdly, he taught them the
form of baptism. And finally he encouraged and
comforted them, by promising always to be with
them to the end of the world. Consider then the
sweet and singular joy they receive, and the many
great and wonderful tokens of love he shows them ;
which being done, he farther gave them his blessing,
and disappeared.
CHAPTER LXXXI
HE APPEARS TO THEM AGAIN NEAR THE SEA OF
TIBERIAS.
WHILE the disciples remained in Galilee, on a
certain time, seven of them went out to fish
in the sea of Tiberias, and having labored the whole
night, they caught nothing. Here at the break of
day, our Lord appeared again to them, standing on
the sea shore, and asking them if they had taken
any fish, they answered him, no. Wherefore he
said, "Cast the net on the right side of the boat,
and you shall find some." They did as he ordered
them, and they were not able to draw the net out
for the multitude of fish. Then John said to
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 361
Peter, "It is our Lord." Peter, when he heard it
was their Lord, put on his coat, for he was then
naked, and cast himself into the sea to come to
him ; but the other disciples came in the boat.
When they come to land, they saw hot coals lying,
and a fish laid thereon, and bread, which the Lord
had prepared for them. He bid them likewise bring
some of the fish they had taken, and dress them ;
and he eat with them on the sea side. And according
to his accustomed humility, he ministered to them,
he broke the bread and gave it them, and gave them
likewise of the fish. The seven disciples, with greafc
alacrity of spirit, conversed with their Lord, and
with all submission and respect eat with him, ad
miring, with hearts full of joy, the affability of his
pleasing countenance. They received from his
sacred hands the food he gave them, and with no
less abundance and spiritual comfort, replenished
their souls, as well as their bodies. O what a di
vine and celestial banquet! Consider well every
particular, and endeavor to feed thy soul with
them.
When the refection was over our Lord addressing
himself to Peter, said, "Lovest thou me more than
these V ' To whom Pe ter replied, * ' Lord, thou kno w-
est that I love thee." Wherefore Christ said to
him "Feed my lambs." Our Lord repeated the
same question three times, and at every time recom
mended to him his flock. Whence we may see the
singular bounty and care of our Lord Jesus, and
especially his exceeding charity and love for our
souls, by his repeated recommendations of them to
Peter's care. After this he foretells Peter the death
he should suffer for his sake, saying, "When thou
wast younger, thou didst gird thyself, and didst
walk whither thou wouldst. But when thou shalt
362 THE LIFE OF OUR
be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands and an
other shall gird thee, and lead thee whither thou
wilt not." And this he said to signify that by
death of the cross he should glorify God. After
this Peter desired to know of our Lord, in what
manner John should suffer : and our Lord answered
him, saying, "So I will have him to remain till I
come; what is it to thee?" As if he had said, I
will not that he follow me by the way of sufferings
and passion, as thou shalt ; but that he live to a full
and complete age, and end his days in peace. Some
of the disciples understood by that saying, that he
was never to die.
After these things our Lord disappeared, and re
turned again according to his usual custom, to the
holy Fathers. The disciples remained greatly com
forted, and returned soon after to Jerusalem.
CHAPTER LXXXIL
OUR LOED JESUS APPEARS TO MOKE THAN FIVE HUN
DRED DISCIPLES TOGETHER ! — SOMETHING RELAT
ING TO HIS APPARITIONS IN GENERAL.
SAINT PAUL mentions that our Lord Jesus, at
another time, appeared to above five hundred
disciples gathered together : but where, at what time,
or in what manner, is uncertain, it not being re
corded in scripture. Yet we may well suppose
that it was with the usual meekness, bounty, and
charity on his side, and with no less joy and com
fort on that of the disciples. And hitherto we have
spoken of our Lord's appearing twelve different
times after tris resurrection ; having omitted two
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 363
other apparitions which follow, when we shall treat
of his ascension. But there is mention made only
of ten in the gospel. For it is not written in any
place that he ever appeared to his holy mother ; so
that it is only piously believed he did. How he ap
peared to Joseph of Arimathea, is written in the
apochryphal gospel of Nicodemus. And his ap
pearing to James, St. Paul mentions in his Epistle
to the Corinthians, as he does likewise that to the
five hundred brethren.
We may, however, devoutly suppose, that he ap
peared several other times ; for it is very probable
that our most bountiful Lord often visited his holy
mother, his beloved disciples, and St. Mary Mag
dalen, comforting those in a more especial manner
who had suffered and been most afflicted at his
bitter death and passion. And this seems to be the
opinion of St. Augustine, when, speaking of the
time of the resurrection, he says, "All things re
lating to our Lord's appearance after his resurrec
tion are not written ! For he conversed with them."
And it is not improbable that the holy Fathers, and
chiefly Abraham and David (to whom the Lord made
a special promise of the incarnation of his son)
came in company with him, to see the most excel
lent virgin, their daughter, and God's most blessed
mother, who for them and for all others had found
so much grace, and bore the Saviour of the world.
O with what joy and comfort did they behold her !
With what reverence did they bow to her ; and with
what alacrity did they praise and honor her.
And here we may consider the great benignity and
charity, and the profound meekness of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ in this, that after his resurrec
tion, and the glorious victory he had gained for us,
he would not leave us, and ascend at once into his
364
THE LIFE OP OUR
glory, but, as a pilgrim yet on earth, would remaiif
forty days, and be conversant among us, to confirm
and strengthen his apostles in their faith. This he
might have done by his angels, but such was his
unspeakable charity, that he would do it himself, by
personally conversing with us for the space of forty
days, appearing to his apostles, and preaching to them
of the kingdom of heaven. All this hath our most
merciful Lord done for us, and yet we reflect little
on it. He hath always loved us, and still loves us ;
but yet such is our ingratitude, that we return him
not our love for his ; which is a mark of great un-
thankfulness in us towards him, notwithstanding the
unbounded charity he still has for us.
LORD JESUS CHRIST.
366
JE8US ASCENDS INTO HEAVEN TO SIT ON THE RIGHT HAND OF THE
FATHER.
In chapter LXXXIIL, THE GLORIOUS ASCENSION OF OUE LORD AND SAVIOUR
JESUS CHRIST.
TOUCHING the wonderful ascension of our Lord
Jesus, it behooves thee, pious reader, to awaken
thy heart, and to render thyself more than ordinarily
attentive to all that is here said or done, relating to
this subject, if thou desir^xt to feed thy soul with
heavenly comfort, and reap the spiritual unction,
366 THE LIFE OF
which plentifully flows from the devout contempla
tion of so divine a subject.
On the fortieth day after his resurrection our Lord
Jesus, knowing that his time was now come to depart
from this world, and to pass hence to his Father,
taking with him the holy patriarchs, prophets, and
others, who after his resurrection were in the terres
trial paradise, and blessing Enoch and Elias, who
remained there still alive, he came to his apostles,
who were gathered together on Mount Sion, which
was the place where he made his last supper the night
before his passion. There were likewise with the
apostles at this place, the Blessed Virgin, and many
other disciples ; and our Lord appearing to them said,
that he would eat with them before he departed from
them, as a special token and memorial of the love he
bore them. And as they were all eating, being full
of joy and spiritual comfort at this last refection of
our Lord Jesus, he said to them, "The time is now
come in which I must return again to him that sent
me ; but you shall remain in the city till you are
clothed with the virtue descending from above ; for
within a few days you shall be filled with the Holy
Ghost, as I before promised you. After which you
shall be dispersed throughout the whole world, to
preach my gospel, baptizing all that shall believe in
me, so that you shall be my witnesses to the utmost
confines of the earth." He likewise reproved them
for their incredulity in not believing those who had
seen him rise, that is the angels. This he chose to
do at the time he was speaking to them of preaching
his gospel, to give them to understand, that they
ought to have believed the angels, even before they
saw him, much sooner than they ought to be believed
by those to whom they were to preach, who, never
theless, would believe them, though they should not
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 367
see him. This he did, that by knowing their fault
they might remain humble ; showing them at his
departure how much he admired that virtue, and
that he ] 'commended it to them in a singular manner.
They asked him concerning many things that were
to come to pass ; but he would not inform them,
inasmuch as it was not necessary for them to know
the secrets of God, whirh his Father had reserved
in his own power, to fulfil at his own will and pleas
ure. And thus they continued discoursing and eat
ing together, with great comfort and satisfaction,
occasioned by the presence of their Lord ; yet their
comfort was mixed with some grief, by reason of his
departure from them. For they loved him so ten
derly, that they could not hear him speak of leaving
them without heaviness and sorrow.
And what can we think of his blessed mother!
May we not devoutly imagine that, sitting near him,
and hearing what he said concerning his departure,
she was moved with the tenderness of her motherly
affection ; and that overcome with grief, which sud
denly seized, and oppressed hex blessed soul, she
inclined her head towards him, and rested it upon
his sacred breast ? For, if St. John the Evangelist,
at the last supper, took this freedom, with much
more reason may we suppose her to do the same on
this doleful occasion. Hence, then, with tears, and
many sighs she spoke to him in this manner : "Oh,
my beloved son, I beseech thee not to leave me ; but
if thou must depart, and return again to thy
heavenly Father, take me, thy afflicted mother, along
with thee!" But our blessed Lord endeavored to
comfort her, and said, " Grieve not, oh, beloved
parent, at my leaving you, because I go to my
Father ; and it is expedient that you remain here a
ehort time longer, to confirm in their faith, suclj^as
368 THE LIFE OF OUR
shall be converted, and believe in me, and after
wards I will come again, and take you with me, to
be a partaker of my glory." To whom again our
Lady replied, "My beloved son, may thy will al
ways be fulfilled in all things, for I am not only con
tented to remain here during thy pleasure, but to
suffer death for love of those souls, for which thou
hast so willingly vouchsafed to lay down thy life :
this, however, I beseech thee, be thou ever mindful
of me." Our Lord then again comforted her, with
the disciples and Mary Magdalen, saying, "Let
not your hearts be troubled, nor fear ye anything ; I
will not leave you desolate ; I go, but will shortly
return again to you, and will remain always with
you." At length he bid them remove from thence,
and go to Mount Olivet, because from that place he
would ascend into heaven, in the presence of them
all : saying this, he disappeared,
His holy mother, with the rest of the company,
hastened to the said mount, about a mile distant
from Jerusalem, as he had appointed, where our
Lord again soon appeared to them. Behold on this
day we have two different apparitions of our Lord.
Thus being all together, our Lord embraced his holy
mother, and she again embraced him in a most tender
manner, taking leave of each other. And the disci
ples, Mary Magdalen, and the rest falling down to
the ground, and weeping with tenderness, kissed his
blessed feet, and he, raising them up, embraced all
his apostles most lovingly.
Let us now, pious reader, diligently consider
them, and devoutly contemplate all that is here
done : and amongst the rest, let us behold the holy
Fathers, who being there present, though invisible,
joyfully admire, and inwardly praise the blessed
virgin, by whom they received so great a benefit aa
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 369
their salvation. They behold, with pleasing admir
ation, the glorious champions, and leaders of God's
hosts, the apostles, whom our Lord Jesus had chosen
from among all others, to conquer and subdue the
world, and bring it over to the belief of his holy
doctrine.
At length, when the mysteries were all fulfilled
and completed, our Lord Jesus began gradually to
raise himself up before them, and to ascend by his
own virtue and power into heaven. And then the
Blessed Virgin, with the rest, fell down and devoutly
worshipped him. And our Lady said, "O my be
loved, I beseech thee to be mindful of me," and
with this she burst forth into tears, not being able
to refrain, when she reflected on his departure, yet
was she full of inward joy, to see her blessed son
thus gloriously ascend into heaven. His disciples
also, when they beheld him ascending, said, "Thou
knowest, O Lord, that we have renounced all things
for thee, wherefore, we beseech thee not to forget
us, but be ever mindful of us, for whom we have
forsaken all." Then our Lord lifting up his hands,
with serene and pleasing aspect, crowned with
glory, victoriously ascended into heaven, but first
blessing them, he said, "Be steadfast, and fight
courageously, for I shall always be with you, even
to the end of the world."
Thus, our Lord Jesus, all glorious and resplen-
dently shining, ascended into heaven, triumphantly
leading with him the noble tribe of holy Fathers,
and fulfilling that which the prophet Micah had said
long before his ascension: "And their king shall
pass before them, and the Lord at the head of
them." So that they all followed him with un
speakable joy, singing canticles of praises and
thanksgiving to him, for their deliverance from all
370 Z'-ttE LIFE OF OUR
sorrow, and their entrance into all joy, and never-
ending felicity.
And Michael, the prince of God's celestial host,
going before, carried the joyful tidings of their
Lord's ascending, at which the whole heavenly
court of celestial spirits came forth to meet their
Lord, and with all worship and reverence, they led
him with hymns and songs of jubilation, repeating
with inexpressible joy, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alle
luia.
Having paid their due reverence to the Lord, and
ended the joyful canticles, which related to his
glorious ascension, the angels and the holy Fathers
began to rejoice together. And what tongue can
express, or mind conceive, that which passed be
tween them at this happy, happy meeting? The
blessed spirits first began to congratulate them on
their arrival, saying in this manner: "Ye princes
of God's people, ye are welcome to our eternal
habitation, and we rejoice and are glad at your ar
rival : ye all are gathered together, and wonder
fully exalted with our God ; Alleluia. Therefore
rejoice, and sing to him who so gloriously ascend-
eth to heaven, and above the heaven of heavens :
Alleluia."
To which the holy Fathers again joyfully replied,
"To you, princes of God's people, Alleluia: Our
guardians and helpers, Alleluia : Joy and peace for
ever, Alleluia : Let us sing and make mirth to our
king and our Saviour, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.
Now we joyfully enter into the house of our Lord,
Alleluia : to remain forever in the glorious city of
God, Alleluia. As sheep of our Lord's pasture we
enter his gates, Alleluia : With hymns and canticles,
Alleluia : For the Lord of power is with us. Alleluia,
Alleluia, Alleluia." For according to the prophet,
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 371
"The Lord is ascended in shouts of joy, and the
Lord in the sound of a trumpet."
Our Lord Jesus ascended visibly for the greater
comfort of his mother and disciples, that they might
see him as far as they could. And behold ' ' A cloud
received him out of their sight, and in an instant they
were present in heaven !" And as the Blessed Virgin
and the disciples were still looking up, two angels
stood beside them in white garments, who began to
comfort them, telling them not to look longer after
his body, which they saw ascend so gloriously into
heaven, for that they should not see him any more in
that form till the Day of Judgment, when he should
come to judge the quick and the dead. They bid
them return into the city again, and there to expect
the coming of the Holy Ghost, as he himself had told
them. Our blessed Lady spoke to the angels, desir
ing them to recommend her to her blessed son ; who
profoundly inclining to her, promised gladly to fulfil
her commands. —And the apostles and Mary Mag
dalen recommended themselves in the same manner.
After this, the angels departing, they went according
as they had been appointed in to the city, unto Mount
Sion, and waited there the coming of the Holy Ghost.
Our Lord Jesus, in company with that blessed tribe
of holy souls, opened the gates of Heaven, which for
a long time had been shut to mankind, and as a
victorious conqueror, triumphantly entered in, and
joyfully saluting his father, said, " O holy Father, I
return thee thanks for the glorious victory thou hast
given me over all our enemies: behold, O eternal
Father, I here present to thee our friends, who till
this time have been detained in banishment and in
prison ! And as I have promised to my disciples and
brethren, whom I have left in the world, to send them
the Holy Ghost, the comforter, I beseech thee to fulfil
372 THB LIFE OF OUR
my promise, for to thy care and protection I recom
mend them." The Father raising him up, placed
him on his right-hand, and said, "My blessed son, to
thee all power is given in heaven and earth, where
fore concerning all thou hast asked, dispose and
order as shall seem most expedient to thee."
After this the angelical spirits and holy Fathers,
who remained all the time prostrate before the throne
of the most adorable Trinity, arose, and with all
reverence, resumed their Alleluias and spiritual
canticles, and sung joyfully to the Lord.
For if Moses and the children of Israel, after they
had crossed the Red Sea, sung a song to the Lord,
saying, " Let us sing to the Lord," etc., and Mary the
prophetess, Aaron's sister, and other women going
out after her, sung to the Lord with timbrels, and
with dances, with how much more reason should they
do it now, after the victory obtained over all their
enemies ? And when David brought the ark of the
Lord to Jerusalem, the whole multitude of the chil
dren of Israel sung to the Lord, and David played
before him, on all manner of instruments, on harps,
on timbrels, on cornets, on cymbals, "and David
danced before the Lord with all his might." — 2
Kings , 6. With how much more reason did they
now do it, when present with their Lord, in the per
fect enjoyment of so great happiness ? And if St.
John the Evangelist, as we read in the Apocalypse,
heard a voice from heaven of a hundred and forty-four
thousand playing on their harps, and singing a new
song before the throne of God and the Lamb, what
ever that might represent, I cannot but piously ima
gine, that it was on this day, more than on any other,
fulfilled. They all sing, they all rejoice, and exult
with the utmost jubilation, and with shouts of mirth
they praise and glorify the Lord, so that the whole
tORl) JESUS CHRIST. 379
heavenly Jerusalem echoes with joyful Alleluias, and
canticles of mirth were heard throughout every parti
Never from the beginning of time was there
known so solemn a festivity, nor shall ever be again,
till after the last and general day of judgment,
when all the elect shall meet together in their beau
tiful and glorious bodies.
And therefore this solemn feast of the ascension,
if every circumstance be duly considered, is the
greatest of all solemnities, which we shall find to be
true, if we briefly consider the rest. The incarna
tion of God is a great feast, a day of solemn jubila
tion to us, but not to him, since he was then con
fined within the narrow compass of the small en
closure of a virginal womb. His nativity was like
wise a great feast, and a day of public rejoicing to
us. But he was to be pitied, who was born to such
great poverty, suffering and penury. His death
and suffering was a great feast to us, because our
sins were then all blotted out ; but as he suffered
most cruel torments, and a most vile death, it was
not to him, nor ought it be to us, a subject of joy.
The resurrection of our Lord Jesus was a most
solemn festivity, both to him and to us, because he
appeared as a triumphant conqueror over death,
and we remained justified, and in the opinion of
St. Augustine, was a more holy feast than the rest,
which may be understood of those which preceded
it. For the day of the ascension seems still to be
more holy and greater than that, for though our
Lord rose then from the dead, yet he still remained
on earth, the gates of heaven were not yet open,
nor were the holy Fathers then presented to his
Father, which was fulfilled on the day of his ascen
sion. And if we consider, whatever God wrought
before this, he wrought to this end, without which
874 ^ttr LIFE OF OUR
his work would have been imperfect. For heaven
and earth, with all things in them, were made for
man ; and man was made only for God, and to en
joy him in his glory : to which glory, no one, though
ever so just, could ever attain after sin, till this day.
Whence you may, in some measure, comprehend
how great and wonderful is this day, which may
properly he called the solemn and joyful festivity
of our Lord Jesus. For on this day was he first
seated in glory, in the humanity he had assumed,
at the right hand of his Father, and enjoyed a per
fect rest from all his labors.
This day is also a feast of great joy and glory to
the blessed spirits of heaven ; for on this day they
received a new satisfaction, in the sight of their
Lord, whom before they had not seen, under the
veil of his sacred humanity. And on this day was
begun to be repaired the ruins of their heavenly
company, occasioned by the fall of their reprobate
brethren, some of whose vacancies were filled up by
a glorious number of blessed souls, of patriarchs,
prophets, and others, who on this day triumphantly
entered the heavenly Jerusalem, and took posses
sion of it as their own right and inheritance.
Wherefore, as we solemnly celebrate the feast of
one saint or martyr who departed this life, and en
tered the glory of heaven, how much more ought
we to do the same for so many thousands, who en
tered together in company with the Holy of Holies,
who is far more worthy all praise, honor and glory,
than all the saints and angels together.
This day is likewise a feast of special joy to the
Blessed Virgin, inasmuch as she beheld her blessed
eon Jesus, perfect God and perfect man, crowned
with glory and triumph, ascend victoriously to
heaven.
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 375
It is also a feast of joy to us, for on this day was
our nature first exalted above the highest heavens ;
and had he not ascended we could not have received
the greatest of all gifts, the Holy Ghost, whom he
had promised to send us, wherefore he said to his
disciples, " It is expedient for you that I go, for if
I go not, the Paraclete shall not come to you."
St. Bernard saith, in his sermon on this day, that
"The glorious feast of the ascension is the end and
accomplishment of all other feasts and solemnities,
and a blessed conclusion of the weary pilgrimage of
Jesus Christ on earth."
Hence then may you gather, pious reader, that
this feast is greater and more solemn than all others,
and that soul, which earnestly and truly loves our
Lord Jesus, should on this day lift up his mind more
fervently towards heaven, and endeavor to receive a
greater plenitude of spiritual comfort and joy than
all other festivals of the year. For our Lord said to
his disciples: "Truly, if you loved me, you would
rejoice and be glad, because I go to the Father."
Whence it appears from his own words, that there
was no day in heaven more joyful than this, which
lasted till the following day of Pentecost, and we
may devoutly imagine it to have been kept and
solemnized in the following manner. — The ascension
of our Lord and Saviour Jesus was about~the sixth
hour. And although the whole court of heaven
made a general rejoicing in a manner beyond all ex
pression, yet from the hour of his ascension to the
sixth hour of the next day, we may piously imagine
that the angels more particularly celebrated this
joyful festival. And, in the same manner, on the
second, the archangels ; on the third day, the vir
tues ; on the fourth day, the powers ; on the fifth,
the principalities ; on the sixth, the dominations ;
376 THE LIFE OF OUR
on the seventh, the thrones ; on the eighth, the cheru-
bims ; on the ninth, the seraphims ; which are the
nine orders of holy angels, who continued their joy
ful solemnity till the vigil of Pentecost ; from which
time, to the third hour of the day following, which
is Whitsunday, the holy Fathers, with the rest of
their blessed company, made the same solemn re
joicings. Thus, during the space of ten days before
the descent of the Holy Ghost upon earth, they all
continued in an uninterrupted acclamation of praise,
glory, and thanksgiving to God, to whom be con
tinued the same by every creature to the end of the
world, and forever. Amen.
In chapter LXXXIV, THE COMING OF THE HOLY GHOST.
OUR Lord Jesus being ascended into heaven,
his blessed mother, with the disciples, returned
to Jerusalem, as the angels had told them, and with
great joy and comfort, remained there during the
space of ten days in fervent prayer, expecting the
coming of the Holy Ghost.
When the tenth day was come after the ascension,
our Lord Jesus said to his Father: "My beloved
Father, the time of grace is near at hand, be mind
ful, I beseech thee, of the promise I made to my
brethren, concerning the Holy Ghost/' To whom
the Father said, "My beloved Son, the promise you
have made is most grateful in my sight, and I am
well pleased it should be performed ; and as the
time is now come to fulfil it, let the Holy Ghost
Descend to replenish, and fill them with his grace,
LORD JESUS CHRIST. 377
to comfort and strengthen them, to instruct and
teach them, and bestow on them abundance of all
heavenly virtues."
The Holy Ghost descended, then, on Whitsun
day, in the form of fiery tongues, upon a hundred
and twenty disciples, who at that time were gath
ered together, and filled them with all grace and
virtue : by which they were so greatly strengthened
and inflamed, that they immediately went forth,
and began to preach the gospel throughout the
whole world, and in a great measure made it sub
ject to their doctrine.
This day is then the feast of love, for, as St. Greg
ory saith, it is the feast of him, who is love itself.
For which reason, he who truly desires to serve
God, should endeavor, in this holy solemnity, to be
inflamed with love, or at least to be enkindled with
a vehement desire of being so free from any mix
ture of the love of this world. For, as St. Bernard
assures us, "He is greatly mistaken who thinks to
unite heaven with earth, the sweet balm of spiritual
comfort, with the enjoyments of worldly vanities,
or the bountiful gifts of the Holy Ghost, with the
deceitful flatteries of the flesh."
Let us, therefore, devout reader, wholly forsake
the fleeting vanities of this world, and purify our
hearts from all earthly and vain love to creatures,
and lead a life of devotion and prayer, as the apos
tles did, expecting the coming of the Holy Ghost.
Thus may we hope to be visited by him, as the
apostles were, and to receive all spiritual comfort
and grace for our souls.
That we may therefore be able to receive the sin
gular gifts of this divine spirit, and to attain to that
bliss to which our Lord is ascended, to prepare the
way for us to follow, let us break off all unnecessary
378
THE LIFE OF OUR
engagements with this wretched world, and take no
delight in the foul satisfactions of the flesh, nor feed
its unlawful desires, but ever earnestly wish, with
the apostles, to be separated from it. So that
through the grace of the divine Paraclete, the Holy
Ghost, we may faithfully endeavor to follow the ex
ample of our Lord Jesus Christ in this world, and
hereafter to ascend with him into the glorious city
of the heavenly Jerusalem ; where he, sovereign
king, together with the Father, and the Holy Ghost,
one God, in perfect Trinity, liveth and reigneth for
ever, world without end. Amen.
THE END.
RHYTHMICAL PRAYEB
TO TBB
SACRED MEMBERS OF JESUS
HANGING UPON THE CROSS.
ASCRIBED TO ST. BERNARD.
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ST. BERNARD'S RHYTHMICAL PRAYER.
TO THE FEET.
I.
O SAVIOUR of the world, I cry to Thee ;
O Saviour, suffering God, I worship Thee ;
O wounded beauteous Love, I kneel to Thee ;
Thou knowest, Lord, how I would follow Thee,
If of Thyself Thou give Thyself to me.
ii.
Thy Presence I believe ; O come to me !
Behold me prostrate, Jesus ; look on me !
How beautiful Thou art ! O turn to me I
0 in Thy tender mercy turn to me,
And let Thy untold pity pardon me !
in.
With trembling love and fear I worship Thee ;
1 kiss the grievous nails which entered Thee,
And think on those dire wounds which tortured Thee,
And, grieving, lift my weeping eyes to Thee,
Transfixed and dying all for love of me !
IV.
O wondrous grace ! O gracious charity I
O love of sinners in such agony !
380
S. BERNARDI RHTYHMICA ORATIO.
PAKS I.
AD PEDES.
I.
SALVE, mundi salutare,
Salve, salve, Jesu care,
Cruci tuse me aptare
Vellem vere, tu scis quare,
Da mihi tui copiam.
ii.
Ac si prsesens sis accede,
Imo, te prsesentem credo :
O quam nmndum hie te cerno,
Ecce tibi me prosterno,
Sis facilis ad veniam.
in.
Clavos pedum, plagas duras,
Et tarn graves impressuras,
Circumplector cum affectu,
Tuo pavens in aspectu,
Tuorum memor vulnerum.
IV.
Grates tan tee caritati,
Nos agamus vulnerati ;
381
382 ST. BERNARD'tTRHTTHMICAL PRATER
Sweet Father of the poor ! O who can be
Unmoved to witness this great mystery,—
The Healer smitten, hanging on a tree \
v.
O Gentle Jesus, turn Thee unto me ;
What I have broken do Thou bind in me,
And what is crooked make Thou straight in me ;
What I have lost restore Thou unto me,
And what is weak and sickly heal in me.
VI.
O Love ! with all my strength I seek for Thee ;
Upon and in thy Cross I look for Thee ;
With sorrow and with hope I turn to Thee, —
That through Thy Blood new health may come to me,
That washed therein Thy love may pardon me.
VII.
O take my heart, Thou loved One ; let it be
Transfixed with those dear wounds for love of Thee,
O wound it, Jesus, with pure love of Thee ;
And let it so be crucified with Thee,
That it may be forever joined to Thee.
VIII.
Sweet Jesus, loving God, 1 cry to Thee ;
Though guilty, yet I come for love of Thee ;
O show Thyself, dear Saviour, kind to me I
Unworthy as I am, O turn to me,
Nor at thy sacred Feet abandon me 1
IX.
Dear Jesus, bathed in tears, I kneel to Thee ;
In shame and grief I lift my eyes to Thee ;
Prostrate before Thy Cross I bow to Thee,
And thy dear Feet embrace ; O look on me,
Yea, from Thy Cross, 0 look, and pardon me.
TO THE SACRED MEMBERS OF JBSU3. 383
O amator peccatorum,
Reparator confractorum,
0 dulcis Pater paupemm t
v.
Quicquid est in me confractum,
Dissipatum aut distractum,
Dulcis Jesu, totum sana,
Tu restanra, tu complana,
Tarn pio medicamine.
VI.
Te in tuo cruce qusero,
Prout queo, corde mero,
Me sanabis hie et spero,
Sana me et salvus ero,
In tuo lavans sanguine.
VII.
Plagas tuas rubicundas,
Et fixuras tarn prof undas ;
Cordi meo fac inscribi,
Ut Configar totus tibi,
Te modis amans omnibus.
VIII.
Dulcis Jesu, pie Deus,
At te clamo licet reus,
Praebe mini te benignum,
Ne repellas me indignum,
De tuis sanctis pedibus.
IX.
Coram crucem procumbentem,
Hosque pedes complectentem,
Jesu bone, non me spernas,
Sed de cruce sancta cernas,
Gompassionis gratia.
384 ST. BERNARDS RHYTHMICAL PRATER
X.
O my Beloved, stretched against that Tree,
Whose arms divine are DOW enfolding me,
Whose gracious Heart is now upholding me,-
O my Beloved, let me wholly be
Transformed, forgiven, one alone with thee !
CHAPTER II. PART II
TO THE KNEES.
I.
O JESUS, King of Saints, I worship Thee ;
O hope of sinners, hail ! I rest on Thee ;
True God, true man, Thou hangest on the Tree
Transfixed, with quivering flesh and shaking knee*
A criminal esteemed, — I worship Thee.
II.
Alas, how poor, how naked, wilt Thou be !
How hast Thou stript Thyself for love of me,
How made Thyself a gazing-stock to be !
Not forced, but, O my God ! how willingly
In all Thy limbs Thou sufferest on that Tree I
in.
Thy Precious Blood wells forth abundantly
From all Thy open wounds incessantly ;
All bathed therein, O God, in agony
Thou standest on the Cross of infamy,
Awaiting the appointed hour to die.
IV.
O infinite, 0 wondrous majesty !
O terrible, unheard-of poverty !
Ah, who, returning so great charity,
Is willing, Jesus, thus to give for Thee
His blood for Thine, in faithful love for Thee!
TO T11E SACRED NUMBERS OF JESUS. 386
X.
In hac cruce stans directe
Vide me, 0 mi dilecte,
Ad te totum me converte,
Esto san us, die- aperte,
Dimitto tibi uinnia.
PARS IL
AD GENUA.
I.
SALVE, Jesu, Rex sanctorum,
Spes votiva peccatorum,
Crucis ligno tanquam reus,
Pendens homo, verus Deus,
Caducis nutans genibus.
ii.
O quam pauper ! 0 quam nudus !
Qualis est in cruce ludus,
Derisornm totus factus,
Sponte tamen, non coactus,
Attritus membris omnibus,
in.
Sangius tuns abundanter
Fusus, fluit incessanter,
Totus lotus in cruore,
Stas in maximo dolore,
Prsecinctus vili tegmine.
rv.
O majestas infinita !
O egestas inaudita !
Quis pro tanta caritate
Quaerit te in veritate,
Dans san^uinem pro sanguine f
380 ST. BERNARD'S RHYTHMICAL PRAYK&
V.
O Jesus, how shall I, then, answer Thee,
Who am so vile, and have not followed Thee!
Or how repay the love that loveth me
With such sublime, such awful charity
Transfixed, from double death to set me free f
VI.
O Jesus, what Thy love hath been for me!
O Jesus, death could never conquer Thee !
Ah, with what loving care Thou keepest me
Enfolded in Thine arms, lest I should be,
By death of sin, a moment torn from Thee I
VII.
Behold, 0 Jesus, how for love of Thee,
With all my soul I trembling cling to Thee,
And Thy dear Knees embrace. O pity me t
Thou knowest why — in pity bear with me,
And overlook the shame that covers me 1
vm.
O let the Blood I worship flow on me,
That what I do may never anger Thee ;
The Blood which flows at every pore from Thee
Each imperfection may it wash from me,
That I may undefiled and perfect be.
IX.
O force me, best Beloved, to draw to Thee,
Transfixed and bleeding on the shameful Tree,
Despised and stretched in dying agony !
All my desire, 0 Lord, is fixed on Thee ;
0 call me, then, and I will follow Thee.
x.
1 have no other love, dear Lord, but Thee ;
Thou art my first and last ; I cling to Thee.
TO THE SACKED MEMBERS OF JESUS. 887
V.
Quid sum tibi responsurns,
Actu vilis, corde durus 3
Quid rependam amatori
Qui elegit pro me mori,
Ne dupla morti morerer?
VI.
Amor tuis amor fortis,
Quern non vincunt jura mortis ;
O quam pia me sub cura
Tua f oves in pressura,
Ne morsu mortis vulnerer.
VII.
Ecce tuo prse amore,
Te complector cum rubore,
Me coapto diligenter,
Tu scis causam evidenter,
Sed suffer et dissimula.
VIII.
Hoc quod ago non te gravet,
Sed me sanut et me lavet,
Inquinatum et segrotum,
Sanguis fluens hie per totum,
Ut non supersit macula.
IX.
In hac cruce te cruentem,
Te contemptum et distentum,
Ut requiram me impelle,
Et hoc imple meum velle,
Pacturus quod desidero.
x.
Ut te quaeram menti pura,
Sit hsec mea prima cura,
ST. BERNARD' 8 RHYTHMICAL PRATER.
It is no labor, Lord ; love sets me free ;
Then heal me, cleanse me, let me rest on Thee-
For lore is life, and life is love — in Thee.
CHAPTER III. PART III
TO THE HANDS.
I.
HAIL, holy Shepherd ! Lord, I worship Thee,
Fatigued with combat, steeped in misery ;
Whose sacred Hands, outstretched in agony,
All pierced and dislocated on the Tree,
Are fastened to the wood of infamy.
n.
Dear holy Hands, I humbly worship ye,
With roses filled, fresh blossoms of that Tree ;
The cruel iron enters into ye,
While open gashes yield unceasingly
The precious stream down-dropping from the Tree.
in.
Behold, Thy Blood, 0 Jesus, flows on me—
The price of my salvation falls on me ;
O ruddy as the rose, it drops on me.
Sweet Precious Blood, it wells abundantly
Prom both Thy sacred Hands to set me free.
IV.
My heart !aaps up, 0 Jesus, unto Thee ;
Drawn by those nail-pierced Hands it flies to Thee ;
Drawn by those Blood-stained Hands stretched out
for me,
My soul breaks out with sighing unto Thee,
And longs to slake its thirst, O Love, in Thee.
TO THE SA CRED MEMBERS OF JESU8. 389
Non est labor, nee gravabor,
Sed sanabor et mnndabor,
Cum te complexus fuero.
PARS IIL
AD MANU8.
I.
SALVE, Jesu, Pastor bone,
Fatigatus in agone,
Qui per lignum es distractus,
Et ad lignum es compactus,
Expansis sanctis nianibua
ii.
Manus sanctae, vos avete,
Rosis novis adimplelae,
Hos ad ramos dure junctae,
Et cmdeli ferro punctse,
Tot guttis decurrentibus.
in.
Ecce fluit circumquaque,
Manu tua de utraque,
Sanguis tuus copiose,
Rubicundus instar rosae,
Magnae salutis pretium.
IV.
Manus clavis perforatas,
Et cruore purpuratas,
Corde piimo praa amore,
Sitibundo bibens ore,
Cruoris stillicidium.
390 ST. BERNARD'S RHYTHMICAL PRATER
V
My God, what great stupendous charity —
Both good and bad are welcomed here by Thee 1
The slothful heart Thou drawest graciously,
The loving one Thou callest tenderly,
And unto all a pardon grantest free.
VI.
Behold, I now present myself to Thee,
Who dost present thy bleeding Hands to me ;
The sick Thou healest when they come to Thee ;
Thou canst not, therefore, turn away from me,
Whose love Thou knowest, Lord, is all for Thee.
VII.
O my Beloved, fastened to the Tree,
Draw, by Thy love, my senses unto Thee ;
My will, my intellect, my memory,
And all I am, make subject unto Thee,
In whose dear arms alone is liberty.
VIII.
O draw me for Thy Cross's sake to Thee ;
O draw me for Thy so wide charity ;
Sweet Jesus, draw my heart in truth to Thee,
O put an end to all my misery,
And crown me with Thy Cross and victory !
IX.
O Jesus, place Thy sacred Hands on me,
With transport let me kiss them tenderly,
With groans and tears embrace them fervently ;
And, O for these deep wounds I worship Thee ;
And for the blessed drops that fall on me I
x.
O dearest Jesus, I commend to Thee
Myself, and all I am, most perfectly ;
TO THE SACRED MEMBERS OF JE8U8. 391
V.
O quam large te exponis,
Promptus mails atque bonis,
Trahis pigros, pios vocas,
Et in tuis ulnis locas
Faratis gratis omnibus.
VI.
Ecce tibi me praesent<\
Vulnerato et cruento,
Semper aegris misereris,
De me ergo ne graveris,
Qui prsesto es amantibns.
vn.
In hac cruce sic intensus,
In te meos trahe sensns,
Meum posse, velle, scire,
Cruci tuse fac servire,
Me tuis apta brachils.
vm.
In tarn lata charitate,
Trahe me in veritate,
Propter crucem tuam almam,
Trahe me ad crucis pal mam,
Dans fiiiem nieis vitiis,
IX.
Manus sanctse vos amplector,
Et gemendo condelector,
Grates ago plangis tantis
Clavis duris, guttis sanctis,
Dans lacrymas cum osoulis
x.
In cruore tuo lotum,
Me commendo tibi lotum,
392 &T BERNARD' 8 RHYTHMICAL PRATBR
Bathed in Thy Blood, behold, I live for Thee ;
O, may Thy blessed Hands encompass me,
And in extremity deliver me !
CHAPTER IV. PART IV
TO THE SIDE.
I.
O JESUS, highest Good, I yearn for Thee;
O Jesus, merciful, I hope in Thee,
Whose sacred Body hnngs upon the Tree,
Whose limbs, all dislocated painfully,
Are stretched in torture, all for love of me t
ii.
Hail, sacred Side of Jesns 1 verily
The hidden spring of mercy lies in Thee,
The source of honeyed sweetness dwells in Thee,
The fountain of redemption flows from Thee,
The secret well of love that cleanses me.
in.
Behold, O King of Love, I draw to Thee ;
If I am wrong, 0 Jesus, pardon me ;
Thy love, Beloved, calls me lovingly,
As I with blushing cheek gnze willingly
Upon the living wound that bleeds for me.
IV.
O gentle opening, I worship Thee ;
O open door and deep, I look in Thee ;
O most pure stream, I gaze and gaze on Thee:
More ruddy than the rose, I draw to Thee ;
More healing than all health, I fly to Thee.
v.
More sweet than wine Thine odor is for ma ;
TO THE SACRED MEMBERS OJf JAitiU&
TUSB sanctse manus istae
Me defendant, Jesu Christe,
Ifixtremis in periculis.
PARS IV.
AD LATUS.
I.
SALVE, Jesu, summe bonus,
Ad parcendum nimis pronus,
Membra tua macilenta
Quam acerbe sunt disenta,
In ramo crucis torrida.
n.
Salve, latus Salvatoris,
In quo latet mel dulcoris,
In quo patet vis amoris,
Ex quo scatet fons cruoris,
Qui corda lavat sordida.
in.
Ecce tibi appropinquo,
Parce Jesu si delinquo,
Verecunda quidem fronte,
Ad te tamen veni sponte,
Scrutari tua vulnera.
IV.
Salve, mitis n pert ura,
De qua manat vena pura,
Perta patens et profunda,
Super rosam rubicunda,
Medela salutifera.
v.
Odor tuus super vinum,
394 ST. BERNARD'S RHYTHMICAL PRATER
The poisoned breath of sin it drives from me ;
Thou art the draught of life poured out for me.
O ye who thirst, come, drink thereof with me;
And Thou, sweet wound, O open unto me.
VI.
O red wound open, let me draw to Thee,
And let my throbbing heart be filled from Thee!
Ah, see ! my heart, Beloved, faints for Thee.
0 my Beloved, open unto me,
That I may pass and lose myself in Thee.
VII.
Lord, with my mouth I touch and worship Thee,
With all the strength I have I cling to Thee,
With all my love I plunge my heart in Thee,
My very life-blood would I draw from Thee, —
0 Jesus, Jesus I draw me into Thee 1
VIII.
How Sweet Thy savor is ! Who tastes of Thee,
0 Jesus Christ, can relish naught but Thee ;
Who tastes Thy living sweetness lives by Thee ;
All else is void — the soul must die for Thee ;
So faints my heart, — so would I die for Thee ;
IX.
1 languish, Lord ! 0 let me hide in Thee I
In Thy sweet Side, my Love, O bury me !
And may the fire divine consuming Thee
Burn in my heart where it lies hid in Thee,
Without a fear reposing peacefully I
x.
When in the hour of death Thon callest me,
O Love of loves, may my soul enter Thee ;
May my last breath, 0 Jesus fly to Thee ;
80 no fierce beast may drive my heart from Thee,
But in Thy Side may it remain with Thee '
TO THE SACRED MEMBERS OF JE8U8. 396
Virus pellens serpentinum,
Potus tuns potus vitse,
Qui sititis hue venite,
Tu dulce vulnus aperi.
VI.
Plaga rubens aperire,
Fac cor meum te sentire,
Sine me in te transire,
Vellem totus introire,
Pulsanti pande pauperi.
VII.
Ore meo te contingo,
Et ardenter ad me stringy
In te meum cor contingo,
Et ferventi corde lingo,
Me totum in te trajice.
VIII.
O quam dulcis sapor iste !
Qui te gustat Jesu Christe,
Tuo victus a dulcore
Mori possit prse amore,
Te unum amans unice.
IX.
In hac fossa me reconde,
Infer meum cor profunde,
Ubi latens incalescat,
Et in pace conquiescat,
Nee prorsus quemquam timeafc.
x.
Hora mortis meus flatus,
Intret Jesu, tuum latus,
Hinc expirans in te vadat,
Ne hunc leo trux invadat,
Sed arjud te nermaneat.
i
396 &T- BERNARD'S RHYTHMICAL PRAYSR.
PARTY.
TO THE BREAST.
I.
OGOD of my salvation, hail to Thee !
O Jesus, sweetest Love, all hail to Theet
O venerable Breast, I worship Thee :
O dwelling place of love, I fly to Thee,
With trembling touch adore and worship Thee.
n.
Hail, throne of the Most Holy Trinity I
Hail, ark immense of tender charity !
Thou stay of weakness and infirmity,
Sweet rest of weary souls who rest on Thee,
Dear couch of loving ones who lean on Thee I
in.
With reverence, O Love, I kneel to Thee,
O worthy to be ever sought by me ;
Behold me, Jesus, looking unto Thee.
O, set my heart on fire, dear Love, from Thee,
And burn it in the flame that burns in Thee.
IV.
O make my breast a precious home for thee,
A furnace o€ sweet love arid purity,
A well of holy grief and piety ;
Deny my will, conform it unto Thee,
That grace abundant may be mine in Thee.
T
Sweet Jesus, loving Shepherd, come to me ;
Dear Son of God and Mary, come to me ;
Kind Father come, let Thy Heart pity me,
TO TSS SAC&EU MtiMBti&S OF JSSU&
PARS V.
AD PECTUS.
I.
SALVE, salua mea Dens,
Jesu dulcia amor meus ;
Balve, pectus, reverendum,
Cum tremore contingendum,
Amoris domicilium,
ii
Ave, thronus Trinitatia,
Area latse charitatis,
Pirmamentum infirmatis,
Pax et pausa fatigatis,
Humilium triclinium.
III.
Salve, Jesu reverende,
Digne semper inquirende,
Me prsesentem hie attende,
Accedentem me succende,
Prsecordiali gratia,
IV.
Pectus mini confer mundum,
Ardens, pium, gemebunduio,
Voluntatem abnegatam,
Tibi semper conformatam,
Juncba virtutum copia.
v.
Jesu dulcis, Pastor pw,
Fill Dei et Marine,
Largo fonie tui cordis,
898 BT- BERNARD'S RHYTHMICAL PRAYS&.
And cleanse the fountain of my misery
In that great fountain of Thy clemency.
VI.
Hail, fruitful splendor of the Deity t
Hail, fruitful figure of Divinity 1
From the full treasure of Thy charity,
O pour some gift in Thy benignity
Upon the desolate who cry to Thee!
VII.
Dear Breast of most sweet Jesus, mine would I*
All Thine in its entire conformity ;
Absolve it from all sin, and set it free,
That it may burn with ardent charity,
And never, never cease to think on Thee.
vm.
Abyss of wisdom from eternity,
The harmonies of angels worship Thee ;
Entrancing sweetness flows, 0 Breast, from thee
John tasted it as he lay rapt on Thee ;
0 grant me thus that I may dwell in Thee t
IX.
Hail, fountain deep of God's benignity I
The fulness of the immense Divinity
Hath found at last a creature home in Thee.
Ah, may the counsel that I learn from Thee
All imperfection purify in me 1
x.
True temple of the Godhead, hail to Thee I
0 draw me in Thy gracious charity,
Thou ark of goodness, full of grace for me.
Great God of all, have mercy upon me,
And on Thy right hand keep a place for me.
TO THE 8ACRED MEMBERS OF JESUS. 399
Fseditatem mese sordis
Benigne Pater diloe.
VI.
Ave, splendor et figura,
Summi Dei genitura,
De thesauris tuis plenis,
Desolatis et egenis,
Manns clementer pern* tie.
VII.
Dnlcis Jesu Christ! pectus,
Tuo fiam dono rectus,
Absolutus a peccatis,
Ardens igne charitatis,
Ut semper te recogitem.
vm.
Tu abyssus es sophise,
Angelorum harmonise
Te collaudant, ex te fluxit
Quod Joannes Cubans suxit,
In te fac ut iuliabitem.
IX.
Ave, fons benignitatis,
Plenitude Deitatis
Corporalis in te manet,
Vanitatem in me sanet,
Quod tu confers consilium.
x.
Ave, verum templum Dei,
Precor miserere mei,
Tu totius area boni,
Fac electis me apponi,
Vas dives, Deus omnium.
400 -S^. BERNARDS LiUYTUMICAL PRAYK&
CHAPTER VI. PART VI
TO THE FACE.
I.
HAIL, bleeding Head of Jesus, hail to Thee t
Thou thorn-crowned Head, I humbly worship
Thee!
O wounded Head, I lift my hands to Thee ;
O lovely Face besmeared, I gaze on Thee ;
O bruised and livid Face, look down on me I
n.
Hail, beauteous 'Fa'c'fr of Jesus, bent on me,
Whom angel choirs'&dore exultantly!
Hail, sweetest Face of Jesus, bruised for me—
Hail, Holy One, whose glorious Face for me
Is shorn of beauty on that fatal Tree !
in.
All strength, all freshness, is gone forth from Thee:
What wonder ! hath not God afflicted Thee,
And is not death himself approaching Thee?
O Love ! but death hath laid his touch on Thee,
And faint and broken features turn to me.
IV.
O have they thus maltreated Thee, my own ?
O have they Thy sweet Face despised, my own I
And all for my unworthy sake, rny own 1
O in Thy beauty turn to me. my own ;
O turn one look of love on me, my own '
v.
In this Thy Passion, Lord, remember me;
In this Thy pain, O Love, acknowledge me ;
The honey of whose lips was shed on me,
The milk of whose delights hath strengthened me
Whose sweetness is beyond delight for me 1
VI.
Despise me not, O Love , I long for Thee ;
Contemn me not, unworthy though 1 be ;
TO THE SACRED MEMBERS OF JB8U& 401
PAESVL
AD FAOIEM.
I.
SALVE, caput cruentatnm,
Totum spinis coronatum,
Conquassatnm, vulueratum,
Arundine verberatum,
Facie sputis illita.
II.
Salve, eujus dulcis vultus,
Immutatus et incultua,
Immutavit suum florem,
Totus versus in pallorem,
Quern laiidat cceli curia.
in.
Omnis vigor atqueviror
Hinc recessit, non admirw,
Mors apparet in aspectu,
Totus pendens in defectn,
Attritus segra macie.
IV.
Sic affectus, sic despectus,
Propter me sic interfectus,
Peccatori tarn indigno,
Cum amoris intersigno,
Appare clara facie.
v.
In hac tua passione
Me agnosce, Pastor bone,
Cujus snmpsi mel exore,
Baustum lactis cum dulcore,
Prse omnibus deliciis.
VI.
Non me reum asperneris,
Nee indignum dedigneris,
402 ST- BERNARD'S RHYTHMICAL PRAYER
But now that death is fast approaching Thee,
Incline Thy Head, my Love, my Love, to me,
To these poor arms, and let it rest on me I
VII.
Thy holy Passion I would share with Thee,
And in Thy dying love rejoice with Thee ;
Content if by this Cross I die with Thee ;
Content, Thou knowest, Lord, how willingly
Where I have lived to die for love of Thee.
VIII.
For this Thy bitter death all thanks to Thee,
Dear Jesus, and Thy wondrous love for me !
O gracious God, so merciful to me,
Do as Thy guilty one entreateth Thee,
And at the end let me be found with Thee I
IX.
When from this life, 0 Love, Thou callest me,
Then, Jesus, be not wanting unto me,
But in the dreadful hour of agony,
O hasten, Lord, and be Thou nigh to me,
Defend, protect, and O deliver me.
x.
When Thou, O God, shalt bid my soul be
Then, dearest Jesus, show Thyself to me !
O condescend to show Thyself to me, —
Upon Thy saving Cross, dear Lord, to me,-
And let me die, my Love, embracing Thee I
CHAPTER VII. PART VII
TO THE SACRED HEABT.
I.
HAIL, sacred Heart of God's great Majesty!
Hail, sweetest Heart, my heart saluteth Thee!
With great desire, O Heart, I seek for Thee,
And faint for joy, 0 Heart, embracing Thee ;
Then give me leave, 0 Love, to speak to Thee,
TO THE SAUKtiJ) MEMBERS OF JS8UA- 405
Morte tibi jam vicina,
Tuum caput hie inclina,
In meis pausa brachiia,
VII.
Tnse sanctse passioni
Me gauderem interponi,
In hac cruce tecum mori,
Prsesta crucis amatori
Sub cruce tua moriar
VIII.
Morte tuse tarn amarse
Grates ago, Jesu chare,
Qui es clemens, pie Deus,
Fac quod petit tuus reus,
Ut absque to non finiar.
IX.
Bum me mori est necesse,
Noli mini tune deesse,
In tremenda mortis bora,
Veni Jesu, absque mora, x
Tuere me et libera.
x.
Cum me jubes emigrare,
Jesu chare, tune appare.
O amotor amplectende,
Temet ipsum tune ostende^
In cruce salutifera.
PARS VIL
AD COB.
I.
SUMMI Regis cor avet<5^
Te saluto corde laeto,
Te complecti me deiectat,
Et hoc meum cor affectat,
Ut ad te loauar animea.
404 ST. BERNARD'S RHYTHMICAL PRATER
With what sweet love Thou languishedst for me !
What pain and torment was that love to Thee I
How didst Thou all Thyself exhaust for me 1
How hast Thou wholly given Thyself to me,
That death no longer might have hold of me !
in.
O bitter death and cruel ! can it be
Thou dares t so to enter greedily
Into that cell divine ? O can it be
The Life of life, that lives there gloriously,
Should feel thy bite, O death, and yield to theel
IV.
For Thy death's sake which Thou didst bear forme,
When Thou, O sweetest Heart, didst faint for me,
O Heart most precious in its agony,
See how I yearn, and longing turn to Thee !
Yield to my love, and draw me unto Thee !
v.
O sacred Heart, beloved most tenderly,
Cleanse Thou my own ; more worthy let it be^
All hardened as it is with vanity ;
O make it tender, loving, feai-ing Thee,
And all its icy coldness drive from me.
VI.
O sinner as I am, I come to Thee ;
My very vitals throb and call for Thee ;
O Love, sweet love, draw hither unto me!
O Heart of Love, my heart would ravished be,
And sicken with the wound of love for Thee !
VII.
Dilate and open, Heart of love, for me,
And like a rose of wond'rous fragrance be,
Sweet Heart of love, united unto me ;
Anoint and pierce my heart, O Love, with Thee,
How can he suffer, Lord, who loveth Thee ?
TO THE tiAURED MEMBERS OF JMU8. 405
II.
Quo amore vincebaris,
Quo dolore torquebaris,
Cum te totum exhaurires,
Ut te nobis impartires,
Et nos a morte tolleres ?
in.
O mors ilia ! quam ainara,
Quam immitis, quam avara,
Quse per cellam introivit,
In qua mundi vita vivit,
Te mordens cor dulcissimum.
IV.
Propter mortem quern tulisti,
Quando pro me defecisti,
Cordis mei Cor dilectum,
In te meum fer aflectum,
Hoc est quod opto plurimum.
v.
O Cor dulce prsedilectum,
Munda cor meum illectum,
Et in vanis induratum,
Pium fac et timoratum,
Repulso tetro frigori.
VI.
Per medullam cordis mei,
Peccatoris atque rei,
Tuus amor transferatur,
Quo cor totum rapiatur,
Languens amoris vuluere.
VII.
Dilatare, aperire,
Tanquam rosa fragrans mire,
Cordi meo te conjunge,
Unge illud et compunge,
Qui amat te quid patitur t
406 ST. BERNARD'S RHYTHMICAL PRATER
VIII.
O Heart of Love, who vanquished is by Thee
Knows nothing, but beside himself must be ;
No bounds are set to that sweet liberty,
No moderation, — he must fly to Thee,
Or die he must of many deaths for Thee.
IX.
Mv living heart, O Love, cries out for Thee ;
With all its strength, O Love, my soul loves Thee ;
O Heart of Love, incline Thou unto me,
That I with burning love may turn to Thee,
And with devoted breast recline on Thee 1
x.
In that sweet furnace let me live for Thee,
Nor let the sleep of sloth encumber me ;
O let me sing to Thee and weep to Thee,
Adore, and magnify, and honor Thee,
And always take my full delight in Thee.
XI.
Thou Rose of wondrous fragrance, open wide,
And bring my heart into Thy wounded Side,
O sweet Heart, open ! draw Thy loving bride,
All panting with desires intensified, ,
And satisfy her love unsatisfied.
XII.
Unite my heart, 0 Jesus, unto Thine,
And let Thy wounded love be found in mine.
Ah, if my heart, dear love, be made like Thine
O will it not be pierced with darts divine,
The sweet reproach of love that thrills through Thine 1
XIII.
O Jesus, draw my heart within Thy Breast,
That it may be by Thee alone possessed.
O Love, in that sweet pain it would find rest,
In that entrancing sorrow would be blest,
And lose itself in joy upon Thy Breast.
XIV.
Behold, O Jesus, how it draws to Thee !
O call it, that it may remain in Thee !
See with what large desire it thirsts for Thee !
Reprove it not, O Love ; it loves but Thee :
Then bid it live — by one sweet taste of Thee I
TO THE SACRED MEMBERS OF JE8U8. 407
VIII.
Quidnam agat nescit vere,
Nee se valet coliibere ;
Nullum modum dat ampri,
Multa morte vellet mori,
Amore quisquis vincitnr.
IX.
Viva cordis voce clamo,
Dulce cor, te namque amo ;
Ad cor meum inclinare,
Ut se possit applicare,
Devoto tibi pectore.
x.
Tuo vivat in amore,
Nee dormitet in lorpore ;
Ad te oret, ad te ploret,
Te adoret, te honoret,
Et fruens omne tempore.
XI.
Rosa cordis aperire,
Cujus odor fragrat mire,
Te dignare dilitare,
Fac cor meum anhelare,
Flam ma desiderii.
XII.
Da cor cordi sociari,
Tecum, Jesu. vulnerari ;
Nam cor cordi similatur,
Si cor meum perforatur,
Sagittis improperii.
XIII.
Infer tuum intra sinum
Cor, ut tibi sit vicinum,
In dolore gaudioso,
Cum deformi specioso,
Quod vix seipsum capiat.
XIV.
Hie repauset, hie moretur,
Ecce jam post te movetur,
Te ardenter vult si tire,
Jesu, noli contraire,
Ut bene de te sentiat.
c
it I
BT 3O3 .B713 1881 SMC
Bo na venture,
St. Bonaventure's Life of
our Lord and Saviour Jesus C
47230819
