PROGRESS THROUGH MENTAL PRAYER by Edward Leen INTRODUCTION SAINT PAUL, writing to the Christian converts, addresses them as persons called to be Saints. It is clear from this mode of address that, in the eyes of the Apostle, the vocation of every Christian, as such, is that he be a saint. To the Apostle's mind this calling, once one has been baptized, is ineluctable. To evade it to the end is not merely to risk but actually to incur everlasting unhappiness. Startling as this thought is, there is not needed much reflection to see that its truth cannot be gainsaid. Nothing "unsaintly" can find place in heaven. What is definitely and by irrevocable choice "unsaintly" is for ever excluded from the presence of God, and this is necessarily so by the very nature of things. It is not in consequence of a stern, arbitrary and, if He chose, revocable decree of banishment issued by God that the unholy soul is banned from heaven. The unholy soul simply could not exist in heaven. It would shrive! up in a veritable agony. It could no more exist there than could a dry twig in a blazing furnace. Light is not more incompatible with darkness than the sanctity of God with what is unholy. It is the infinite purity, the perfect sanctity of God that makes heaven impossible for the unsaintly. Since eternal happiness depends on sanctity, it is important to have a very clear notion of what it consists in and of the way by which it is attained. What is sanctity? The philosophers, aiming at making clear what a thing is, very often prepare the way by pointing out what it is not. This procedure is a great help towards the acquisition of clear ideas, and can be applied in the present inquiry with some advantage. By very many sanctity would very probably be defined as that which renders a person eligible for canonization. Such a definition would be too exacting. Those who are placed on the roll of honor of the Church and are offered to the veneration and admiration of the faithful are heroic saints. The process of canonization reveals the elements of heroic, not of ordinary, sanctity. In an army it is not only those decorated with the official insignia of valor who are good, brave and trustworthy soldiers. In God's army the official saints are the specially distinguished. There are multitudes of others who make good the vocation of which the Apostle speaks and verify in their lives the notion of Christian holiness. Therefore sanctity is not to be limited to heroic sanctity. Neither may sanctity be confounded with ethical perfection. One cannot be a saint without having all the qualities that go to make a man, but those moral perfections that constitute the perfect ethical man[1] do not constitute the saint. One might, abstractly speaking, possess and practice all the moral virtues, prudence, justice, temperance, fortitude, and all the others that come under these heads--one might realize the ideal of the perfect man traced by the moral philosophers and yet not be a saint. Christian sanctity is a supernatural thing. To know what it is, recourse must be had to the eternal source of the supernatural, namely, to God Himself. God is the supreme Saint. Holy is His Name.[2] He is Sanctity Itself, and therefore the exemplar and prototype of all sanctity. The holiness that is not modeled on His is not veritable holiness. Hence it was that Jesus said to the multitudes: " Be ye therefore perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect".[3] It is as if He said," You must be saints, and if a man is to be a Saint, he must be like God". In what does God's Infinite Holiness consist? It consists in His Infinite Charity, that is in His Infinite love of Himself. This statement needs a little explanation and expansion for, as it stands, it might appear to the superficial to savor of an immense egoism.' God is Holy, not for the reason that He loves Himself but because That which He does love with an infinite intensity is w hat merits to be infinitely loved and chosen for its lovableness. God Himself embraces in Himself all that verifies the notions of Good.[5] He loves that Infinite Good infinitely and in that lies His Infinite Holiness. He loves proportionately every created participation of that all-complete Good. He loves these created reflections of the Infinite Good, not for themselves, but as being ectypes of that which is the object of His Infinite complacency. In that lies His Holiness and He loves Himself in these things. For men and angels also, sanctity lies in the love of that which is worthy of most supreme love. It is synonymous with the love of God, and is measured by that love. It is scarcely necessary to remark that this love of God is not a sentiment, a feeling, or an emotion. It is of the will, not of sensibility.[6] It consists in a deliberate election, choice and preference of the Supreme and Infinite Good, above all else. God, the Infinite Good, as revealed by faith, is made the supreme object of desire to the rejection of the claims of all other good things that can be selected in His stead and substituted for Him as an object to which the will should adhere. This adherence of the will to God is nothing else but the conformity of the human will with the Divine; man wills the same things as God wills; he rejoices in what pleases God and is saddened by what displeases Him; he does God's holy Will with all care and accepts from His hands the daily cross. This total surrender to and conformity with the Divine Will implies that the Soul has willingly yielded to the attractiveness of God, and this willing yielding is love. That man is a Saint for whom the attraction of God is supreme above all other attractions. To be a Saint is to be effectively enamoured of the beauty of God, to desire Him and to desire nothing which would conflict with that desire of God. As for God Himself, so also for man, the love of the Supreme Good carries with it a love of every created participation of that Infinite Good. But that created good must not be loved for itself. It must be cherished because it is of God, and because its beauty is a reflection of His. Amongst these created participations of the Infinite Good which is God, one of the fairest is the supernatural perfection of a rational creature. God made man to be man. He made him to be something more. By the infusion of Sanctifying Grace He made him to be a being whose moral excellence should be touched with divinity. The man of God's design in the actual order of things is one whose soul should be equipped not only with the moral but also with the theological virtues. The human participant of the Infinite Good is one in whom exists Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, Temperance, along with Faith, Hope and Charity. The state of soul realized by the possession of these seven virtues is good and an object of desire. Aiming at sanctity means aiming at a life in which all these virtues are steadily and constantly operative. Jesus Christ was the man who realized this ideal in all its perfection. He was, in a supreme measure, prudent, just, brave and temperate. Instead of Faith and Hope He possessed from the first their consummation in Vision.[7] In charity, that is ardent love of God, the Infinite Good, He could not be rivaled. In Him, human perfection, as planned by God, was fully and perfectly realized. God could look upon this handiwork of His Divine Spirit and say that 'it was Good.' As such, it was an object, a thing, lovable and to be desired. Jesus could, and did, love His own moral and spiritual perfection. But He did not make it an object of desire for its own sake. It was God that He loved in this perfect earthly mirror of God's Beauty. If He wrought in His life and in His actions such a perfect masterpiece of moral and spiritual excellence, it was not for the sake of, or because He was drawn by the attraction of that moral excellence in itself. He did it because it was God's Will that He should do so. God's will is identical with Himself. To seek God's will perfectly in all things is the same as to pursue the Supreme Good in all things. This Jesus did. He did not exercise virtue for virtue's sake, but because he apprehended it as God's will. Through and in the act of virtue He as man kept united with God, His Supreme Good. The spiritual life is sometimes spoken of as the seeking after perfection. If this be understood to mean that the man aiming at spirituality is to set before him his own perfection as an object after which he is to strive, it is apt to lead to serious mistakes in the spiritual struggle. It is true that the development of a full spiritual life involves in its attainment man's perfection; yet it is not precisely at this perfection that he must aim, but at God. God is the final end of man and therefore the object after which he must strain in all his spiritual and moral endeavors. The spiritual life may be more clearly, simply and correctly described as the "cultivation of intimacy with God" and the following pages are an attempt to show how, ordinarily speaking, the soul may cultivate that intimacy, and how it is to overcome the obstacles it encounters in its efforts to become intimate with its Creator. God has smoothed the path for the human soul by becoming man. To become intimate with God, the soul has only to become intimate with Jesus, who is like to the soul in his humanity, like to it in all things except sin.[8] Man can grow in friendship with God by growing in friendship with One Who is a fellow-man. The spiritual life is the process of growth in charity, that is in love of Jesus, true man and yet true God. This love not only binds the soul to Jesus, but has the intrinsic effect of assimilating it to Him, transforming it to His likeness. "But he who is joined to the Lord," writes St. Paul, "is one Spirit."[9] It is to be observed that the Savior in tracing for men the path they were to tread in order to enter into this union with Him, did not point to Himself saying, "Behold in me the pattern of, and the living object lesson in every human virtue, prudence, justice, courage, kindliness, truth and the rest." He did not say, "Seek to acquire all these virtues which you see in their perfection in me and then you will become my intimate friends". His instruction was much more direct and simple. He said, "Learn of Me, that I am meek and humble of heart."[10] One has only to be humble after the model of Jesus and all else will follow. How this is so is not immediately apparent; for the full implications of the virtue of humility are not readily seized. Elsewhere a full analysis of this virtue will be given. What is there said may be summarily expressed thus. Humility consists in making God all and oneself nothing in one's life. [It is, to use a phrase expressive, but, perhaps, of unfortunate associations.] "God over all." It is the practical acceptance of St. Michael's battle cry: Quis ut Deus! Who is like unto God! It is the complete obliteration of all the false claims of self, in face of the all pervading sovereignty of God. All that is required on the part of the Christian to make perfect his calling, is to efface himself before God. Hence it is that the whole burden of the Savior's teaching to men is the practice of self-abnegation. Self- abnegation is something much larger than either suffering or mortification. The instructions on prayer that follow are an exposition of the mode by which this conquest of self is carried to a final and successful issue. Prayer, properly carried out, will have as its effect the gradual revelation to the soul of this disease of self-love which so intimately penetrates the very fibers of its being as to pass unobserved by the person that does not lead an interior life. In prayer the soul gradually draws into the radiant purity and truth of the soul of Jesus. It becomes bathed in and penetrated through and through with that radiance; and in this splendor all in it that is of self and not of God, all that is in it unlike Jesus, stands clearly revealed to that soul's own gaze. When this unlikeness is purged away by the action of suffering and the sacrament of the Eucharist, then the close union of the soul with God takes place. Prayer, mortification and silence prepare the soul for the action of the Blessed Eucharist. Once the obstacles are cleared away from the soul this great Sacrament of union accomplishes in its perfection that which is its special effect, namely the creation of a union of spirit between the soul and Jesus. Prayer prepares the way for this, for prayer that is good must have as its effect the gradual growth in self-abnegation. The presence of self-love in the soul is the great obstacle to the action of grace. Prayer reveals the presence of this self-love and secures the aid of God to its extermination. The grace of Jesus flowing to the soul through prayer and the Sacraments carries out this process of extermination. As the Christian soul empties of self, it fills up with God, not merely with some thought or aspect of God as visualized by a self-centered spirituality or even as revealed in created reflections, but with God as He is in Himself and as He reveals Himself to " little ones". To be filled with God is to be perfect with the very perfection of our heavenly Father, but this happy result is conditioned by the soul's practical application of the means explicitly stated by Our Divine Guide and Exemplar: "Learn of Me that I am meek and humble of heart."[11] It is in no narrow or particular sense that God is said " to resist the proud and to give grace to the humble."[12] In these words of the Apostle is revealed the connection, not logically immediate, between humility and spiritual perfection. Humility is not fortitude nor temperance nor yet charity. But where it exists all these will exist. For the Christian supernatural virtues, the only ones that avail for union with God in this life and in the next, are not acquired but infused. God gives them. They are communicated with grace. They grow with grace and are proportioned in their perfection to the measure of grace. God gives grace generously to the humble. To each He gives according to the measure He has predestined, which is not the same for all. But each one in his own individual case receives according as he is more or less perfectly disposed to receive. As humility is perfect so is the disposition perfect. The perfectly humble man will flourish in all virtues. He will be fearless, temperate, kind, loving, and all the rest. He has not to accomplish acts of temperance to have the virtue of temperance. He has it already in virtue of grace and in a strength proportioned to that grace. The acts merely give a greater facility in the exercise of the virtue and dispose the soul for a further increase of grace. So it is in the case of each of the other cardinal virtues and in the case of the Theological Virtues. It is sad that of all those who start out with such confidence and such goodwill on the supernatural life, so very few attain to any marked degree of spirituality. The causes of this very general failure are known only to God. They are necessarily inscrutable to us from whom are hidden the secret resistances of the created will. Resistance to grace is the reason of the absence of growth in the spiritual life. Yet it would be hard to say that the resistance is in the majority of cases deliberate. It is quite possible that it may proceed from want of spiritual enlightenment, and that great numbers of failures are to be attributed not to bad will but to an imperfect understanding. It is quite possible that souls do not succeed simply because they employ faulty methods or make a faulty use of good ones. Self-knowledge is needed for growth in the spiritual life. St. Catherine of Siena stresses this point with great emphasis in her writings. Now perhaps the concentration of the soul's attention on the constituent elements of the virtues that it ambitions to attain and of the vices it longs to eradicate may impede the growth of self-knowledge. One who has some experience in dealing with souls cannot fail to remark that very many good and promising beginning send in disappointment and discouragement. Such a one will observe that generally speaking--not absolutely speaking-- there is a common cause for this. It is due to the soul's being continually occupied by the symptoms of its spiritual state, be these symptoms healthy or the reverse. Its gaze ranges over the whole field of the virtues and the whole field of the vices and it brings its own daily conduct into relation with these. It aims at development by striving after the practices of the virtues and by eliminating the activities of the vices. In this it can fail to go to the radical cause of its growth or rather of its absence of growth in virtue.[13] An example from medicine will make this clear. When a patient presents himself to a doctor and reveals that he is suffering several kinds of pain and in different parts of his body there are two courses of action open to the medical man. He may deal with each form of suffering and by the resources of his skill bring alleviation to one after the other. In due time the patient is discharged from the hospital free from suffering, but only to fall back into his old state in a short time. If he has found a very skilled doctor his experience will be different. The expert physician will set himself to find out in his patient the "focus of infection", which is the source of the various ills the sufferer complains of. If this 'focus' is discovered and eliminated the patient leaves hospital not temporarily but permanently cured. In the spiritual world there is an unerring and divine Physician. It is Christ Himself. He has diagnosed the "focus of infection" in every soul. It is "self" in its varying forms and manifestations. Eliminate this and there ensues necessarily a healthy spiritual life. Hence it is that He preaches self-abnegation in the first place, He preaches it in the second place: He preaches it all the time. On it all depends. Self-abnegation is but humility in act: it is the practical carrying out in action of the precepts of that fundamental virtue. Jesus is the perfect type of humility of soul: He is the perfect model of self-abnegation in act. Mental prayer is the means by which the soul grows into the spirit of Jesus, developing in itself "the mind of Christ." If the soul that practices mental prayer does not grow in humility and self- abnegation it is a sign that its prayer is badly made and is not fulfilling its purpose. It is essential for spiritual progress that one should have a clear vision of the role that prayer has to play in this progress. That role is the development, through loving contemplation of the Man-God, of the fundamental dispositions of the Sacred Humanity. Little by little the soul grows in that basic humility so characteristic of Christ; complete dependence on and loving subjection to God become as it were the leaven which spreading by imperceptible degrees pervades its every action, it is marked by a self-abnegation which aims at purging from it everything that is not God, so that "conformed to the image of His Son" it may live its life in full accord with the designs of Providence in its regard. 1. By "ethical man" is meant the man who possesses all the natural virtues in perfection without grace. Needless to say that in the present order this is purely an abstract idea. 2. Cf. Isaias vi. 3. And they [the seraphim] cried to one another and said: Holy, Holy, Holy, the Lord God of hosts. 3. St. Matt. v. 48. cf. Levit. xi. 44. " For I am the Lord your God. Be holy because I am holy." 4. Egoism is disordered love of self God's love of Himself is not disordered since He loves in Himself that Divine Goodness which merits to be infinitely loved and is the reason why anything else is worthy of love in any degree. Theologians speaking of God's love of Himself call it "most pure love," to signify that it cannot be tainted by the disorder of egoism. When, in full submission to the Divine Will, we labor to realize in ourselves the designs which God has for us, we may be truly said to love ourselves. Neither is this love egoism, for it is an ordered love--we love ourselves, as it were, in God. But when we seek to gratify ourselves independently of God, when our self love does not spring from (and is not nurtured by) the true love of God, then we are guilty of egoism. 5. This means that (in scholastic language) the formal reason of God's holiness is that He loves infinitely what is worthy of being infinitely loved. Concretely that which He does love is Himself, therefore it is only materially speaking (to use a scholastic expression) that God is holy because He loves Himself. 6. Too often the word "love" is associated exclusively with the emotional movements that accompany natural affection. This is a mistake. True love, even though it be natural, is not in the emotions but in the will, and the emotional movements that often accompany it must not be mistaken for it, nor are they necessary for its existence. St. Thomas gives the true notion of love when he says that 'to love is to will that good should befall a person'; "amare est velle bonum." If all this is true of natural love, with how much more force can it be applied to love that is supernatural. 7. Faith and Hope are virtues belonging to the state of the wayfarer. In our celestial Fatherland, belief will have found its perfection in knowledge, Hope will have passed into possession. But because Charity unites us to God even in this life, its perfection in the next is not something specifically different but is a closer and more intense union with the divinity: "Charity never passeth away." As regards the Beatific Vision, Christ was never a wayfarer; He enjoyed the sight of God from the moment His human soul sprang into existence. Faith and Hope when He could not have, for He already possessed something more perfect. But His Charity was most intense. 8. Heb. iv. 15. 9. I Cor. vi. 17. 10. St. Matt. xi. 29. 11. St. Matt. xi. 29. 12. St. James iv. 6. cf. I St. Peter v. 5. 13. It seems to me from practical experience that this is very often the case. PART I: THE NATURE OF PRAYER "Let nothing hinder thee from praying always, and be not afraid to be justified even unto death: for the reward of God continueth for ever. Before prayer prepare thy soul: and be not as a man that tempteth God." (Ecclesiasticus xviii. 22-23). Chapter I: The Aim of Mental Prayer The science of prayer is the science of the intercourse of man with God. Prayer itself is the unfolding of our mind before the most High and in His presence. It begins by a desire on the part of the soul to put itself in the presence of its Creator; in its development it tends to become an interchange of thought and affection between the soul and God. This unfolding of our mind before the Almighty is not an idle and egoistic self- analysis. It is the exposition of one's sentiments, needs and aspirations. It is prompted by a desire that God should supply the soul's needs: it is sustained by the firm confidence that God is disposed to give the soul all that the soul is created to obtain from God the Author of its being. The ultimate end of the relationship established between the soul and God in prayer, is, that the soul should, by His help, abandon its own natural earthly way of thinking and willing, and enter into God's views and affections, judge things as God judges them, and therefore conform its thought and desires to the thoughts and desires of God. This conformity of thought and affection between God and the soul, is effected by the soul's conformity in thoughts and affections with Jesus Christ, the God-Man. There is a significance in the injunction of St. Paul: "For let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus."[1] The final end of prayer, considered as a potent means for the development of God's life in the soul, is to emancipate us from natural habits or thought and affection and elevate us to a supernatural manner of thinking and willing, to change our natural outlook on life and things and to make it supernatural. The function of prayer therefore (and especially of mental prayer)[2] is to transform our minds and through the transformation of our minds to effect a change in our dispositions and in our hearts. This mental conversion is not as simple as it is usually taken to be; normally it does not take place in a day or in a year; it involves a process which demands a long time for its completion. It is not generally realized to what an extent our modes of thought--even when we are leading christian lives--are alien to the modes of thought of God. To think "christianly" is not an easy matter. God warns us of this through the Prophet Isaias: " For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are exalted above the earth, so are my ways exalted above your ways, and my thoughts above your thoughts".[3] Prayer aims at bridging over this infinite gulf; it aims at enabling us to enter into the mind of God and from that point of vantage to contemplate all created things and the mysteries of Faith. To arrive at this view of reality, it is necessary that it be not the spirit of human wisdom or prudence that should shed light upon the objects of our thought, or should reveal what are to be the worthy objects of affection. It is needful that the light of merely human understanding be replaced by the illumination of the Spirit of God. For "the things also that are of God no man knoweth, but the spirit of God. Now we have received not the spirit of this world, but the spirit that is of God: that we may know the things that are given us from God. . . . But the sensual man perceiveth not these things that are of the spirit of God; for it is foolishness to him, and he cannot understand because it is spiritually examined. But the spiritual man judgeth all things. . . . For who hath known the mind of the Lord that he may instruct him? But we have the mind of Christ."[4] To the extent that we remain insensible to the promptings of the Spirit of God within us, to the degree in which we have failed to come under the influence of the Divine communication by God of Himself to us, to that extent we are what the apostle calls "sensual." At the beginning of our "conversion" we are almost entirely "sensual" in our ways of judging and understanding; we are unable to probe the inner meaning and penetrate to the spirit of the mysteries of our faith. We hold them as true; our knowledge is a knowledge of "possession" and not of "use." These mysteries remain, in a sense, external to us. We know that they are true. Their outward features--that is, the formulae in which they are expressed--are familiar to us, but we have little apprehension of their inner meaning; hence they exercise little or no power on the affections of our heart or on the direction of our lives. For us the vital meanings pent up like life-giving waters within these formulae, and containing in themselves the power to transform and transfigure our human life, have not broken loose and flooded our souls with their refreshing streams. The habit of prayer, and that alone, can correct all this, for it makes us cease to judge sensually and enables us to acquire the art of judging all things spiritually.[5] The concluding words of St. Paul in the text cited above, namely, "we have the mind of Christ," perfectly express the result aimed at by the process of mental prayer. In all the varied forms which our intercourse with God necessarily assumes, the desire to acquire this mentality, the mentality of Jesus Christ, must act as a guiding and unifying principle. We cannot flatter ourselves to have made any considerable progress in prayer until we have advanced in learning to think with God--understanding Him and His ways. We cannot be properly intimate with Him until this has taken place. The reason is obvious for one who studies ordinary human relationships. How constrained and artificial and labored are our conversations with those with whom we have little in common! How difficult it is to find satisfaction in the company of those who are completely out of sympathy with our attitude towards life! How often it is the lot of Catholics to meet with non-catholics--who are equipped with the ordinary human virtues, men who are fair minded, upright and trustworthy but who have no clear perception or understanding of the supernatural. A sincere Catholic, no matter how kindly disposed, will inevitably find intimacy with such persons extremely difficult if not impossible. No matter what apparent agreement there may be in many minor points there is really little or no common ground of understanding. This difficulty is intensified infinitely in our relations with God. Prayer is an intercourse or communing of the soul with God according to the words of St. Paul:--"Our conversation is in heaven; from whence we look for the Savior, our Lord Jesus Christ, who will reform the body of our lowness, made like to the body of His glory, according to the operation whereby he is able to subdue all things unto himself."[6] "In my opinion," says St. Teresa, "prayer is only a friendly intercourse in which the soul converses alone with Him by Whom she knows she is loved."[7] Now this personal intercourse cannot exist, or can exist but very imperfectly unless there is some common ground of understanding--some identity of thought and interests. For it must be remembered that, according to St. Thomas, prayer is an art of the reason, that is to say, it must have a basis in the intelligence. Growth in prayer is merely a growth in familiarity with God." In all prayer there are two agents to be considered. There can be no converse with God unless the soul wants it and actually enters on it, and the soul cannot desire to pray or actually engage in prayer unless God is at hand. God is the principal agent, prompting the first desire of the soul for intercourse with Him; His Holy Spirit influences the intellect, awakens pious thoughts in the memory, arouses the imagination to develop and preserve these thoughts, draws the reason to examine religious truths and excites holy desires conformable to the thoughts He has inspired. Desiring more intensely to communicate Himself to the soul, than it could desire union with Him, He directs every effort it makes in its intercourse with Him. God's action does not exclude that of the soul. Diligent cooperation on its part is vitally necessary; the soul must petition God for the grace of prayer, and at the same time spare no pains to conform its thoughts and ways to those of God. A very touching and intensely human incident in the Gospel illustrates all this, and carries us rapidly through the various stages of the intercourse of the soul with God, from its initial want of comprehension to the final illumination by which its ignorance of the divine is swept away. As the evening of the first Easter day was drawing to its close, two of the followers of Jesus of Nazareth left Jerusalem and directed their steps towards a small town about eight miles distant, called Emmaus. As was natural, their thoughts revolved around the tragic happenings of the previous days. Seeing nothing in these sad events but the frustration of all their hopes and the end of their ambitious dreams, they were plunged in gloom. Their state of mind is well portrayed in their own words: "but we hoped that it was He that should have redeemed Israel: and now besides all this, today is the third day since the settings were done."[9] Yet being unable to tear their thoughts away from what they had witnessed, they could speak of nothing else. As they walked and talked, a stranger drew near, and being anxious to interchange their thoughts with another, they were glad when he came to share their company. "And it came to pass that while they talked and reasoned with themselves, Jesus Himself also, drawing near, went with them."[10] The disciples being asked by their new companion what it was that was the subject of their conversation, expressed surprise at any one being ignorant of the terrible scenes which Jerusalem had just witnessed. "And he said to them: what are these discourses that you hold one with another as you walk and are sad? And one of them, whose name was Cleophas, answering, said to him: art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things that have been done there in these days?"[11] The stranger asked them to explain what they referred to, and straight away both proceeded to sketch the life of Him Whose followers they had been. He was a great prophet, mighty in word and work; they had expected great things of Him, for on His remarkable power they had based their hopes of the restoration and the freedom of Israel. And now all had ended in disillusionment and tragedy. The mighty worker of wonders was seized without difficulty by the priests and princes, and put to death without opposition. All was over. "And they said: concerning Jesus of Nazareth who was a prophet, mighty in word and work before God and all the people; and how our chief priests and princes delivered Him to be condemned to death and crucified Him: but we hoped that it was He that should have redeemed Israel."[12] It was true that some women asserted that He had arisen again from the dead, but that was a tale that had its origin in the overwrought imaginations of women, distracted by the cruel sufferings and death of the Jesus whom they loved. "Yea, and certain women also of our company affrighted us, who before it was light were at the sepulcher, and not finding His Body, came saying that they had also seen a vision of angels, who say that he is alive."[13] This story of the resurrection the disciples were not prepared to admit. It conflicted with their sense of what should be the normal development of the events of the three years that had just ended. Evasion of death they expected, but a death and resurrection did not fit into their habits of thought. Regarding Jesus, His life, His work and His life's purpose from a viewpoint that was to a large extent natural, and interpreting it from that viewpoint, they completely misjudged the life and misunderstood the Man. Their appreciation of the events of the last days of Holy Week, showed that they had never properly understood Him Whom they called their Lord and Master. The stranger after having allowed them to express themselves fully on the subject that filled their thoughts, and having listened to them in silence to the end, began to speak in his turn. "Then He said to them: O foolish and slow of heart to believe in all things which the prophets have spoken. Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and so to enter into His glory?"[14] Taking their minds back over the Scriptures, He set before them contemplation after contemplation on the life, the character, the disposition and the sufferings of the Messias. As feature after feature was drawn for them, from the words of Moses and the Prophets, especially the great Isaias, they began to see, in the career of Him Whom they had followed, the fulfillment of each detail of the prophecies. At the same time they began to understand Jesus of Nazareth and grasp the inner meaning, the lesson, the purpose, of His life on earth. It became clear to them that His was not a life of purely human limitations. The Divine element in it began to show through for them. "And beginning at Moses and all the Prophets, he expounded to them in all the Scriptures the things that were concerning him."[15] At length it began to dawn upon them that the Redemption they looked for was to be sought not without but within--not in the emancipation of their persons from a political yoke, but in a subjection of their souls to the deifying influence of the Redeemer. As the true portrait of the Messias developed for them under the skillful hand of the Master Himself, their minds grew in understanding of, and their hearts began to glow with love of Him Whom they had so misunderstood. "Was not our heart," they said afterwards to one another, "burning within us, whistle spoke in the way and opened to us the Scriptures?"[16] This walk and conversation with Jesus was mental prayer in its ordinary form. As will be seen further on, it sets before us vividly, if only in outline, the ordinary process through which the soul passes, as it grows in knowledge of Jesus. In considering this Scriptural illustration we should note that: (a) Jesus Himself drew near and went with them; (b) He led them to expose their thoughts and sentiments; (c) He was ingenious in facilitating intercourse and intimacy--He took the initiative. In a word, He was the quiet, powerful Master of the whole situation just as He is in prayer, if only the soul responds to His advances. In the beginning the soul, attracted to Jesus by some impulse of grace, comes to Him, filled with natural thoughts and aspirations, and very ignorant of the supernatural. It understands neither God nor itself. It has few intimate relations with the Divinity outside of itself and within itself; but it begins to converse with Jesus. If it persists in the frequentation of His company the Lord gradually takes an ever-increasing share in the conversation, and begins to enlighten the soul. In its contemplation of the mysteries of faith, He aids it to penetrate beneath the words and facts and symbols, hitherto known but superficially, and to grasp the inner sense of the supernatural truths contained in these facts or words or symbols. The Scriptures are gradually opened to the soul. The well-known texts begin to acquire a new and deeper meaning. Familiar expressions convey a knowledge which the soul wonders never to have before discovered in them. All this new light is directed towards giving a fuller and more perfect comprehension of the mysteries of our faith, which are the mysteries of the life of Jesus. From this comprehension springs a love and sympathy with our Divine Lord. There is a growing desire for identification with Him. Union of thought and feeling begets intimacy and constant intercourse; the soul has a constant desire of conversing with Jesus about His interests and its own, which love has made identical. "Consider how great the happiness given to you," says St. John Chrysostom, "how wonderful the glory bestowed on you, in this that you can discourse to God, hold conversation with Christ, aspire after what you are inclined to, and ask for what is wanting to you."[17] The soul cannot consort with Jesus without ardently desiring to be like Him, and to liberate itself from whatever can place an obstacle to the freedom of their mutual relations. It conceives a distaste for all that tends to create in itself an unlikeness to Jesus. The constant and habitual aspiration of the soul, running as an undercurrent through all its communications with the Lord, is, to be freed from the shackles of all deliberate faults, even the very least, and to be filled with grace. "All our prayers," says St. Thomas, "ought to be directed to the obtaining of grace and glory."[18] The soul, striving after this conformity with Him who has become its Friend, necessarily seeks to enter into and to develop in itself the fundamental and guiding disposition of the Friend's soul. That disposition is the disposition of sacrifice, or rather, a profound adoration of God finding its expression in sacrifice. The fundamental disposition of Christ's soul was one of absolute and loving subjection to God. Jesus Himself expressed this, saying: "For I do always the things that please Him."[19] Prayer is a means to the acquisition and cultivation of the spirit of sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Now, when God finds this disposition in the soul, He hastens to communicate to it a participation more and more abundant of that Divine life of which the soul of Jesus is a limitless ocean. Thus is realized the purpose of Christ's Incarnation: "I am come," He said, "that they may have life, and have it more abundantly".[20] To the reception of this life all prayer must be directed: "This chiefly we must seek in prayer," says St. Thomas, "namely, to be united to God."[21] The ascension of the soul then, is, through prayer to the acquisition of the spirit of sacrifice, and thence to union with God especially through the Holy Communion. "The Blessed Eucharist", says Cardinal Billot, "is the chief means that God has ordained for imparting the divine life to the soul. That outpouring of divine life is proportioned to the dispositions of the soul that receives it. The more perfectly the soul has entered into the dispositions of Jesus, the more closely it has become akin to Him in taste and outlook, the more abundant is the reception of the divine life that in its plenitude resides in Jesus."[22] Prayer, Spirit of Jesus developed by mental prayer, Communion--that is the order. This is perfectly exemplified in the incident cited from the Gospel. At first the disciples failed to recognize Jesus. After conversation with Him their faith was purified, their devotion to Him grew and they at length understood and entered into the meaning and spirit of His life and Passion. He saith to them: "O foolish and slow of heart to believe in all things which the prophets have spoken. Ought not Christ to have suffered these things and so enter into His glory?"[23] And then they understood and accepted the principle of sacrifice for Him and for themselves, as the sole means to that redemption which is of the soul, not of the body. They had dreamed of a redemption that was wholly political and external, one which changed their worldly status, leaving themselves unchanged. Now they understood redemption as something wholly internal and spiritual, liberating them from the yoke of their own fallen nature and giving their souls the regal condition of the sonship of God. The imparting of grace, not the bestowal of earthly position, they now understood to be the object of Christ's relations with them. But the end was not yet. All this was a preparation for something further. "And it came to pass whilst he was at table with them, He took bread, and blessed and brake, and gave to them. And their eyes were opened and they knew Him."[24] With the reception of the sacred Host, came an inflow of Divine grace into their souls and their final illumination. Having sketched in outline the nature and aim of prayer in its fundamental character, it remains to point out the different forms which it takes, to show that growth in the habit of prayer is the same as the development in spirituality, to expose the usual temptations and difficulties which the soul experiences in the cultivation of the interior life, to describe the route which progress in this life follows, to explain the ordinary mechanism (if the word be permitted) by which the intercourse with God is maintained, and finally to disclose the obstacles that impede, as well as the conditions that help advancement. 1. Phil. ii. 5. 2. Prayer is mental when the thoughts and affections of the soul are not expressed in a previously determined formula. All prayer ought to participate to some extent in the nature of mental prayer because acts of mind and will are always necessary. The ideas touched on in this paragraph are developed in "The Dialogue of St. Catherine of Siena," Vol. I, chap. xxxvi. (Ed. Hurtaud). 3. Isaias lv. 8--9. 4. I Cor. ii 11-16. 5. The religious state of the average soul at the beginning of its conversion and prior to its initiation into the interior life, is aptly set forth in the following passage from Newman. "In our condition as average Christians . . . we know that God's service is perfect freedom, not a servitude, but this it is in the case of those who have long served Him, at first it is a kind of servitude, it is a task till our likings and tastes come to be in union with those which God has sanctioned . . . 'The servant knoweth not what his lord doth' (John xv. 15). The servant is not in his lord's confidence, does not understand what he is aiming at, or why he commands this and forbids that. . . . Such is the state of those who begin religious obedience. They do not see anything come of their devotional or penitential exercises, nor do they take pleasure in them; they are obliged to defer to God's word simply because it is His word. . . . We must begin religion with what looks like a form. Our fault will be, not in beginning it as a form, but in continuing as a form. It Is our duty to be ever striving and praying to enter into the real spirit of our services, and in proportion as we understand them, they will cease to be a form and a task and will be the real expression of our minds. Thus shall we be gradually changed in heart from servants into sons of almighty God." Parochial Sermons. Vol. iii Sermon 7. 6. Phil. iii. 20-21. 7. "Life." Ch. viii. St. Thomas quoting St. John Damascene, says that prayer is an ascent or an approach of the mind to God. ii. ii. Q. 83. a. 17 ad 2. St. Gregory Nazianzen says that prayer is a conference or conversation of the soul with God. "De. Or. Dom." 1. According to St. John Chrysostom it is a discoursing with the Divine Majesty. Hom. 30 in Gen. St. Augustine speaks of it as an affectionate turning of the mind to God. "Serm." ix. 3. 8. (a) The conformity or harmony of will between the soul and God is a conformity of the human will as enlightened by reason and faith. It doth not exclude an actual opposing in to the Divine on the part of men's lower or sensitive nature. (b) St. Thomas says the function of friendship with God is to bring about that men should incline to the same things as God. He quotes with approval Aristotle, saying . "One of the features of friendship is that friends should have a liking for and choose the same things." 9. St. Luke xxiv. 21. 10. St. Luke xxiv. 15. 11. St. Luke xxiv. 17-18. 12. St. Luke xxiv. 19, 20, 21. 13. St. Luke xxiv. 22, 23. 14. St. Luke xxiv. 25, 26. 15. St. Luke xxiv. 27. 16. St. Luke xxiv. 32. 17. "Considera quanta est tibi concessa felicitas, quanta gloria attributa orationibus fabulari cum Deo, cum christo miscere colloquia, optare quovelis, quod desideras postulare." St. Chrysostom quoted by St. Thomas, II. II. Q. 83. a. 2, 3. 18. "Quia omnes orationes nostrae ordinari debent ad gratiam et gloriam consequendam." St. Th. II. II. Q. 83. a. 4 c. 19. "Quae placita sunt ei facio semper. St. John viii. 29. 20. St. John x. 10. 21. "Quia hoc praecipue est in oratione petendum ut Deo uniamur." St. Th. II. II. Q. 83. a. 1, ad 2 22. "De Eccllesiae Sacramentis." Vo1. I. p. 94. Editio quinta. 23. St. Luke xxiv. 25-26. 24. St. Luke xxiv. 30-31. CHAPTER II: PERSEVERANCE IN PRAYER "My heart hath said to Thee, I have sought Thy face. Thy face, O Lord I will seek." Ps. xxvi. 7. Without prayer salvation is impossible. To neglect it is to neglect the only means given us to remain in touch with Almighty God; if we lose hold of Him we necessarily fall back upon ourselves, and in ourselves we can find nothing that can advance us towards eternal life. Everything that appertains to that must come to us from God. Every gift in the supernatural order is an effect of His bounty, "for every best gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights."[1] God has ordained that these gifts be given to us on condition of our valuing them, desiring them and petitioning Him humbly for them. He says to us: "Ask and you shall receive." This implies--"if you do not ask you shall not receive." We do not beg except for what we prize highly and are desirous of possessing. There is no true prayer where there is not a real longing for the things pertaining to the development of the spiritual life. All that tends to impart, to strengthen, to develop and perfect that life, are the gifts which God is prepared to give the soul, if the soul nourishes in itself a holy desire for them, acknowledges its need of them, and confesses its dependence on God for them. The most necessary resolution for one that wishes to draw near to God and to grow in intimacy with Him, the resolution that embraces and involves all the others, is that of persevering in prayer in spite of all the difficulties and trials to be met with in it.[2] For though it is true that prayer is supernatural, "for no man can say the Lord Jesus, but by the Holy Ghost,"[3] still the habit of prayer is fixed and strengthened and developed in much the same way as natural habits are formed and developed in us. It depends, therefore, for its firmness and force on our own diligence, knowledge and industry, aided of course as is always to be understood, by the grace of God. It is an entirely mistaken notion to think that the gift of prayer is something which in no wise depends upon us, but is altogether God-given. Prayer, it is to be emphatically stated, does not 'happen' to us; we do not 'contract' spirituality as people contract a disease--by accident. Such a view fosters spiritual sloth, by which the soul excuses itself for not entering into relations with God on the grounds that it feels no taste of inclination towards such intercourse and waits until God imparts this devotional taste before beginning. Again it is certain that the power to pray is a grace; but this grace is infallibly given if we on our side fulfill the conditions required of us. Our cooperation is necessary. We must not wait until influenced by pious sentiments or emotions, or driven by necessity to address ourselves to God. These pious feelings are not of the essence of prayer. We must be so trained in the exercise of the divine converse, that we can approach God with as much constancy when we feel a positive distaste for the supernatural as when carried away by an access of sensible devotion. We must learn to speak to God independently of our tastes and feelings. The difficulty in prayer is not in prayer itself. It all comes from our want of decision in electing definitely to find our unique satisfaction of mind, will and imagination in the supernatural and in definitely renouncing the tendency to seek in the natural world any form of satisfaction that does not lead to God. If we are strong enough and resolute enough to choose God as the term not of some, but of all our activity, if we are resolute enough not to be continually oscillating between Him and creatures, prayer is easy. As regards petition, there is no difficulty in asking for what we like.[4] The whole world is daily occupied in that. Most deputations are concerned with it. It is the characteristic action of childhood. But there is a real difficulty in liking what we, as children of God, should ask for. Naturally we have no taste for the things of the spiritual life. It is intelligible that we should be very half-hearted in our petitions for what we do not strongly desire. We are not prone to be very insistent in our demands for what we are not very eager to have. Of course, Christians as a rule are not conscious of this distaste for the supernatural. They sincerely believe that they are quite earnestly beseeching God for the things of eternal life. There is a certain amount of unconscious self- deception in this matter. The petition for the things of eternal life is accompanied very often, in fact most frequently, by a keen desire of, and longing for things that are an impediment to that life. One desire, of necessity, negatives, at least partially, the other and renders it to some extent illusory. If what is actually longed for is in contradiction with the life of grace or opposed to its development, the prayer for the things of the spirit is but an idle formula, a complete self-delusion. The cherishing in the soul of desires incompatible with the longing for God, is the secret of the vast number of failures in the spiritual life.[5] Of the many that embark on the interior life, few, comparatively, succeed. The reason lies in this, that they have never resolutely chosen God to the rejection of all else beside, or that having once made the choice, they afterwards allow themselves to develop likings that impede or conflict with the growth of God's life in the soul. They allow themselves to drift into choosing other things as well as God. This inevitably tends to not choosing God at all. Many will plead that they find the spiritual life a difficulty, because they find prayer a difficulty. The truth is that men begin to find prayer a difficulty when they have begun to find God a difficulty. This comes when God has ceased to interest them because other things have begun to interest them more.[6] The essential condition of success in the spiritual life is to train oneself "to want" God and to school oneself "not to want" what does not lead to Him. Hence it is that St. Catherine of Siena in her "Dialogue," stresses so much the necessity of stirring up and nourishing in the soul this holy desire.[7] 1. St. James i. 17. 2. Cf. "Dialogue of St. Catherine of Siena." God the Father speaking to the Saint says: " Know, my daughter, that it is by persevering in prayer that is humble, incessant and full of faith, that all the virtues are acquired by the soul It ought, then, to persevere and never to allow itself to be forced to give up, either by the illusions of the devil or by its own frailty, that is, by the thoughts that harass it, nor by the restlessness of the body, nor by the talk that the devil puts in the mouths of men, to turn the soul from prayer." 3. I Cor. xiii. 3. cf. Ss. Theol. II. II. Q. 83. a. 13 c. 4. Prayer of Petition is prayer in the most restricted and precise sense. St. Thomas referring to petition says: "Prayer is a certain manifestation of the human will," and again: "Prayer is a certain unfolding of our will to God that He may fulfill it." III. Q. 21. a. 1. 5. St. John of the Cross develops the importance of mortifying our desires in the "Ascent, Book I. 6. Cf. Ss. Th. II. II. Q. 35. a. I and 2, which articles treat of this state of soul. 7. "Dialogue" Vol. I, chap. 36. CHAPTER III: VOCAL PRAYER "All ye works of the Lord, bless the Lord." Dan. iii. 57. There are two distinct ways in which the soul presents itself before its Creator; that is, there are two distinct types of prayer, namely, vocal and mental. Now, though a mental attention either to the meaning of what we are saying, or to the Person we are addressing, is required, in order that the formulae we utter with our lips merit the name of prayer, there is, nevertheless, a fundamental difference in the nature and the purpose and the effects of these two modes of communicating with God. The word prayer is derived from the most characteristic act of this exercise, that is, petition. All our dealings with God must have a background of pleading in them; a note of entreaty must run through the varied movements of the soul towards its God. There is always one ultimate object which is aimed at in the converse of men with God, and to this object all others must be subordinated; that is, that God communicate Himself to His creatures in this life as a preparation for union in the next. We are indigent before God; we need everything and He alone can give us what we want. If we had not fallen, our utterances would mainly consist of words of praise and adoration and worship. And though now, as has been said, there is an element of petition always present in our intercourse with God, yet praise, adoration and thanksgiving; are still the most characteristic functions of prayer when it is vocal. For this reason it has to be more formal than mental prayer. In the latter the operation is more personal and intimate. In the former, God is the direct object of our acts. In mental prayer we can have our own soul and its states as the object on which will or understanding is exercised. Though people pray vocally in private, yet it is characteristic of, and usual for vocal prayer to be recited in common. Vocal prayer is always to a certain degree a public act, and as such is something that is done to honor and reverence God. Of course prayers in common are often recited, as in times of calamity, to express repentance, to plead for mercy, to placate God's justice or to obtain His blessings. But the distinctive function of vocal prayer remains that of honoring, reverencing and worshipping God. The most sublime form of vocal prayer is the Divine Office. This is formed of language inspired for the most part by the Holy Ghost Himself to give expression to the thoughts that should animate all created supernaturalised intelligences in the presence of the great Lord of all. The ideas contained in the Psalms and the words in which they are clothed are such as man, were he a perfect child of God, would use to give expression to his admiration, love, reverence and esteem for his heavenly Father. The holy Pope Pius X, quoting Saint Augustine, writes: "That God might be praised in a fitting manner by man, God Himself composed the praises of Himself. And because God deigned to praise Himself, man found the terms in which to sound God's praises."[1] The Psalms are, therefore, a divine composition which God's servants are to repeat in His presence to honor Him. In doing this they stand in a relation to God similar to that of the beatified who ever stand before His throne honoring Him by heavenly canticles. God desires that we should deal with Him much in the same manner as that in which we deal with one another. It is our custom at school, for instance, when we wish to honor a distinguished guest, to have passages from some famous author declaimed, or musical pieces from a great composer performed in the presence of him whom we wish to honor. In a somewhat similar manner the Holy Ghost has inspired for us the praises which we are to recite or chant before God to honor Him. The nature of public vocal prayer demands that we acquit ourselves of it with great reverence and respect; our every gesture, tone and attitude must be made to signify the honor we wish to pay to the Great Being in whose presence we are. For the merit and perfection of our act it is not demanded that we should necessarily advert to the meaning of the words we use; if the whole action is directed towards God, if we realize that the formulae we use are in themselves eminently pleasing to Him, and if from the beginning we form the intention of acquitting ourselves well of the duty we are undertaking, the whole function is meritorious and pleasing to God whom we honor.[2] Any subsequent distraction or want of attention, as long as it is indeliberate, does not destroy the initial intention. This intention extends its influence over the whole multitude of acts which constitute the service. The monastic choir is as a stage arranged before the King of heaven a stage on which those who recite the Divine Office should endeavor to execute with great expression and feeling, attention and perfection, those chants in honor of God, composed by the Divine Spirit. Those who recite the Divine Office should remember their role in the divine drama. It is that of the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ, the Church, w hose inmost thoughts and feelings, whose mystical life, whose states of soul and whose love and devotion to God the Father, the divine hymns express in terms of wonderful variety and perfection. The Divine Office differs from all other vocal prayers. It is the official utterance of the Spouse of Christ, whose accents exercise an unparalleled influence over the heart of God. "The Church by her faith, her confidence, her love and her union with Jesus, annihilates the distance that separates her from God and chants His praise like the Word in the Bosom of the Trinity. She, united with Christ, sings the very praises of God under the eyes of God."[3] What has been said of the Divine Office is true in its degree and measure of all vocal prayer. In every case there is a recital of a formula, composed nearly always by a person different from him who prays. It does not necessarily express the disposition of soul of the person employing the formula; if it be an approved prayer, it voices sentiments, thoughts and emotions which are in themselves pleasing to God. Of course the more perfectly one identifies oneself with the thoughts expressed in these recited formulae, the higher the value of the prayer. But it is clear from what has been said that in the form of address one stands on a more formal and distant relationship with Almighty God, than in the case of mental prayer.[4] The effect of vocal prayer upon the soul varies with the stage of development the soul has reached in the spiritual life. For those who do not lead an interior life, the role of such prayer is restricted to exciting a sense of the supernatural and a sense of the duty of raising the mind to God; for those advanced in the spiritual life, the liturgical prayers are of a sovereign efficacy for bringing their souls into union with the intellectual illuminations and affective impulses of the Holy Spirit. The prayers and chants of Holy Church become for such souls the natural and spontaneous outlet in which the pent up emotions of the heart acquired in mental prayer find due expression.[5] To acquit ourselves perfectly of vocal prayer, it is necessary to raise to God our mind by attention, our heart by devotion, and our will by submission. These dispositions deliberately stirred up in the soul at the beginning will color the whole exercise, in spite of distractions. Actual attention all the time is not vital. Our prayer is meritorious and obtains its effect provided we begin with an attention that is not afterwards retracted by any voluntary distraction. Of course actual attention the whole way through is to be aimed at, for ii gives additional force and efficacy to our words.[6] We should make it a point to begin well, by deliberately putting ourselves in the presence of God, and by withdrawing our powers from outward things, recollecting them in ourselves and fixing them on God. If distractions come, we must aim at having all our distractions turn on Divine things; this we can do by learning to view all things in God's light. The power to do so is the direct effect of the cultivation of the habit of mental prayer. 1. "Divine Afflatu." 2. God the Father speaking to St. Catherine of Siena says:--"The soul must not separate vocal from mental prayer; while it pronounces the words, let it strive to lift up its thoughts and direct them towards my love: to this let it unite the consideration, in general, of its faults and of the precious Blood of my Son, in which she may recognize the bountifulness of my charity and the remission of its sins.---"Dialogue": Vol. I, chap. 36. 3. Cf. Marmion. "Christ the Ideal of the Monk." Chap. xiii, Part iii, p. 299. The public prayer of the Church is in very truth the prayer of Christ. Sharing as we do in His life, forming but one body in Him, we become His instruments, by which He can praise God. If we place ourselves wholly at His disposal, it is He who prays in us, with us, by us. Thus we become one in a very full sense with the eternal Praise and glory of His Father. 4. A recollected bearing, a reverential attitude and a becoming posture are demanded for the due acquittal of vocal prayer. When vocal prayers are recited in common, the exercise should be marked by something of the decorum and dignity that surrounds the choral recitation of the Divine Office. Such an exercise should always be begun with the express intention that God should receive thereby a due measure of honor and worship. 5. The soul is turned into the fire of love and therefore every word is like a spark rising from a fire inflaming and enlightening the powers of the soul, that she listeth ever to pray and do nothing else. And the body, is an instrument, and a trumpet of the soul in which the soul bloweth sweet notes of spiritual prayers to God. Hilton. "Scale of Perfection." C. 12. 6. The words of St. Thomas, marked as usual by clarity as well as wisdom are to be quoted in this connection. "Now prayer has three effects. The first is common to all acts informed by Charity, and this is merit. In order to realize this effect, it is not necessary that prayer should be attentive throughout, because the vigor of the original intention with which one begins to pray makes the whole prayer meritorious, as is the case with other meritorious acts. The second effect of prayer is proper to it alone, and consists in impetration: and again the original intention, to which God looks chiefly, suffices to obtain this effect. But if the original intention is absent, prayer lacks both merit and impetration: because as Gregory says ("Moral" xxii.) "God hears not the prayer of those who have no intention of praying." The third effect of prayer is one which it produces immediately; this is the spiritual refreshment of the mind and for this effect attention is a necessary condition: wherefore St. Paul writes: (I Cor. xiv. 14): 'If I pray in a tongue . . . my understanding is without fruit.' "It must be noted however that there are three kinds of attention that can be brought to vocal prayer: one which watches the words, lest we say them wrong, another which attends to the sense of the words, and a third which aims at the end of prayer, namely, God and to the thing we are praying for. This last kind of attention is most necessary and even the untutored are capable of it." (IIa. IIae. Q. 83. 2. 13.) CHAPTER IV: THE ORDINARY PROCESS OF MENTAL PRAYER "I am the way; no one cometh to the Father but by Me." John xiv. 6. Mental Prayer is an ascent or approach of the mind to God. It is nothing else than a communing of spirit with spirit, a communing of the created intelligence with the uncreated. To pray, therefore, it is necessary to be present with God. When we wish to enter into conversation with our friends on earth, we leave the place in which we are and transport ourselves to where they are or make use of those means of communication invented by science. No use of a medium of communication or change of position on our part would seem to be necessary when it is question of coming into the presence of God, since He is everywhere, and in Him we live, move and have our being. Yet, strange to say, though we are surrounded by, and, as it were, enveloped in God, still we can fail to have Him present to us. For a spirit makes other beings to be present to it not by local movement but by its acts. Our soul has present to it only those objects about which its faculties are engaged. We can be said to be present only there, where our thoughts, affections or imaginings are. It is in the very same way we are present with God. We are in God's presence only during the time when the faculties of our soul are exercised about Him or His attributes or in something that has a bearing on our relations with Him. The meaning therefore, of having placed ourselves in God's presence--of our mind having ascended to Him--is that God has become for us an object of loving, or at least interested, thought. This imports as its correlative aspect, the withdrawal of our imagination and our senses, our will and our intellect, with the acts that flow from them, from all objects other than God.[1] We are in a real sense present where that object is which occupies our imagination--more truly present where it is than where we may happen to be locally. A familiar illustration may be drawn from a too common experience in a teacher's life. The indifferent and distracted student is bodily present in the class-room, but his surroundings and the teacher's words make no impression on him as he allows his thoughts and interests to wander to the joys of home or the excitement of the playing fields. He is, in a human sense, more present where his thoughts and affections are than where he is in body. God is a pure spirit--and we are not. We cannot come into His presence as an angel can. All the acts of our intellect depend on the senses and on the imagination. We must have some imaginative image of a thing in order to be able to think on it. It is difficult for us to form an image of the Divinity and therefore difficult for us to be present with God. At least it would be very difficult for us, had not God in His kindness, found a way by which access to Him, by aid of the imagination, might be made easy for men. That way was the Incarnation. The Divinity is made present visibly and tangibly to us in the Humanity of Our Lord: "That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the word of life; for the life was manifested; and we have seen and do bear witness and declare unto you the life eternal, which was with the Father, and hath appeared to us."[2] Our Lord shadows forth in a visible manner the perfection of God--His goodness, His benignity, His holiness, His mercy. Those attributes in a pure spirit we should have found very difficult to imagine or conceive. As clothed in, and expressing themselves through the Sacred Humanity these attributes of God are become accessible to human imagination as well as to human thought. Jesus is the spotless mirror of the Divinity. Therefore, the study of the life of Jesus and His works--the contemplation of His humanity--forms the imaginative ground-work from which the soul forms to itself the spiritual concept of God. "Everything in Jesus is not only saintly but sanctifying also, and imprints itself on the souls which apply themselves to the consideration of it, if they do so with good dispositions. His humility makes us humble; His purity purifies us; His poverty, His patience, His sweetness and His other virtues imprint themselves on those who contemplate them. This may take place without our reflecting at all upon ourselves, but simply by our viewing these virtues in Jesus with esteem, admiration, respect, love and complacency."[3] Hence it is that our communion with God, the presence of our spirit with His, is accomplished through the Sacred Humanity. Therefore, the ordinary way of mental prayer or meditation[4] is the reviewing in our imagination and in our intelligence the life and words of Jesus. This however is only one part of prayer--it does not end with considerations or reflections, for prayer in its essence is not a mere reflection on a subject belonging to the order of divine things. "It is a supernatural attitude of the soul before its Creator in which it directs itself towards God and unites itself with Him, for the purpose of rendering Him what is due to Him from His creatures, receiving in turn His communications and rendering itself pleasing in His sight."[5] The considerations--that is, the meditation strictly so called--have an ultimate purpose. That purpose is to create in our minds a form or an ideal of life and action, an ideal which is presented by our intelligence to our will, as our highest good. Our considerations, therefore, must tend to form, deepen and strengthen the conviction that the life of the Man-God is the good life for us, that His way of acting and thinking is what Is most deserving of our imitation. Meditation has for its object to fill our minds with the conviction that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life, that is to say, to fill us with the conviction that our life is a false and vain one in so far as it does not conform to the spirit of His; that His values of human things are the only true values; that to attain the goal of existence we must follow the path He has traced and be guided by His principles; and finally, that it is only by making His modes of thought, affection, and action our own that we shall enjoy the life that is truly life.[6] The will necessarily moves with love towards that which the intelligence presents to it as its good. The study of the attractiveness of Jesus creates in the will the desire of conformity with Him and the practice of the virtues exemplified in His life. There is only one humanity that is united of itself to the Divinity; that is the Humanity of Jesus, for it is united hypostatically. If w e are to be united intimately with the Divinity it is necessary for us to prepare the way for that union by becoming assimilated to that Humanity. How is this done ? By assimilating ourselves to Jesus in thought, in affections, in principles and in ideals--i.e. by reproducing in our life the features of His human Life. This paves the way for vital union with the Divinity that is in Jesus. This union with the Divinity grows in proportion to the increase of sanctifying grace in the soul. The ordinary channel for the communication of this grace of Christ is the Sacraments. These confer greater or lesser grace as the dispositions of the soul resemble to a greater or lesser degree the dispositions of the soul of Jesus of Nazareth. Therefore our considerations in prayer are meant to set before our will as an object to venerate, to admire, to love and to imitate, the ideal of human life portrayed in the life of Jesus on earth. Our prayer must inspire us with the desire to shape our actions after the model set up by the Savior as the means to union with God. We must be attracted to the loveliness of God by the loveliness of Jesus. God is the supreme and ultimate good, and everything else, even virtue, is good only in as much as it leads to the possession of Him. Of course God reveals Himself to us in the works of creation, and from the contemplation of these, we can acquire a certain knowledge of the greatness, of the power, of the beauty and perfection of God, and with the light of revelation to help we could develop in ourselves a kind of personal regard for the Author of all created things. But this drawing towards God could with difficulty attain to the nature of love; it would remain strongly impregnated with fear and awe: its most perfect expression would be reverence--the reverence of the creature devoted to its Creator. Hence it was that those who lived under the old dispensation scarcely knew God as a Father; for all created things are limited and imperfect, and therefore generate but a very imperfect notion of God; they tend to generate even a false one on account of the weakness of will and intellect that followed on the fall. This was the reason why even the chosen people had such a proneness to idolatry--a thing which many find very difficult to understand. But in our Lord's life the attributes of God are reflected without the slightest shadow of imperfection and in all their lovableness. His sacred Humanity reveals God to us in a most attractive form and it becomes possible for us to love God and desire to be united with Him, this being the end of prayer, as it is the end of all our relations with God. There can be union only between beings that are alike; to be united with God we must be like Him, assimilated to Him, conformed in the passions and affections of our humanity to the passions and affections of that Humanity which He made His own. That Humanity is the bridge of union between Him and us. The function of mental prayer, then, as an act of our mind, is to study and contemplate the features of the life of Jesus Christ with a view to reproducing the traits of that life in ourselves and so disposing ourselves to growth in the divine life of grace. When we have made progress in this contemplation it is possible for us to fix our gaze on created things, on the world itself and the events that take place in it--and that without danger to ourselves. For the Sacred Humanity has rectified our ideas about all created things and in Its light we can study creatures without fear of being led astray by them. When the mind has attained the view-point of Jesus Christ, distraction in prayer does not normally turn the soul from God, for every object that comes before the mind, every work, every event, is instinctively reviewed in the relation in which it stands to Him, and all will therefore (though at times insensibly) lead the mind back to God. So far there has been question only of the soul's acts in prayer. These, however, do not constitute the whole of this exercise. Prayer has been defined as a familiar intercourse or conversation with God. It is a being present with God and associating with Him, as we associate with those we love on earth. Now two spirits cannot be present to each other, since such presence is by means of acts, without strongly influencing each other. In this intercourse the activity is not all one sided; it is not wholly on our side. The Divine Spirit is operative as well as the human. God incessantly plays His part and this is an active one. A conversation is not a speech delivered before a person, it involves an interchange of thought; and as our thought is directed towards God, so God's thought is directed towards us. God is intensely operative and if the soul has willed to draw near to God, He on His side, tends to draw near to it. The effect of the contact of two spirits is one of assimilation, i.e. one is made like the other. The soul by its activity cannot assimilate God to itself, for God cannot change; the activity of God therefore is directed towards assimilating the soul to Himself. God therefore takes up the soul and assimilates it to Himself, and this in proportion as the soul by its own acts, helped by grace, abdicates itself and lives the life of God by acting habitually and intensely under a motive of faith and of charity. When the soul attains to the point of practically always acting not merely under a habitual or virtual, but an actual motive of faith,[7] it has already arrived at an advanced stage in the life of ordinary prayer; for this conscious assumption of all its activities under a rule or principle of faith makes its prayer continuous, uninterrupted and unceasing. The actuality and vividness of the faith clears the soul's activity of the influence of self, and accordingly God's influence enters to an ever higher degree into such activities. Persons who live this life of faith in a sustained manner carry about with them an air of the divine easily perceptible by those with whom they come in contact. There is nothing which helps more to foster and develop this life of faith than the habit of seeing the will of God in all things even the most insignificant, in the petty trials, disappointments, checks and even in the pleasures and satisfactions that come our way. Thus habitual prayer demands an habitual sense of God's presence--demands, which is more accurate, God being continually present to us. Now there are different and varying degrees of presence of persons, one with another. In a social gathering many people are assembled in the same room within easy reach of one another. All are bodily present in the same place. As is often the case, those who are assembled together in great social gatherings come as strangers one to another. The vast majority of them meet, perhaps, for the first time. What happens is that each looks around in the assembly for the few with whom he is on terms of acquaintanceship or friendship, and engages in conversation with these. For the group thus formed the others are as if they were not there at all. The friends that meet and converse are present to one another; they are present to themselves but not to the others, and this presence deepens in the degree in which their conversation springs from a common interest or causes a deepening of mutual understanding. The more their mutual interests and tastes lead to an active interchange of thoughts and views and to a strengthening of the bonds that bind them together, the deeper grows the presence. If again one of the guests takes the lead in the conversation and all the others dominated by his personality cease to speak and give themselves to the task of listening, the speaker becomes present to everybody in the room, but not everybody to him--those only are present to him who have led him on to conversation, and interest in whom, incites him to speak. So it is, in a measure, in our relations with God. We have already seen that mere bodily presence before the tabernacle, or mere recitation of formulae does not constitute God present to us; for that, it is needful that the powers of our soul be occupied with God and with the things of God. Now in prayer there is reciprocal action, prayer is a conversation. It is as essential a part of mental prayer that God should address Himself to us, as that we should address our- selves to Him.[8] He speaks to us through the deepening of our faith, through the illumination He supplies to our intelligence, to the penetration into the mysteries of our religion that He grants us, and through the impulse to good that He gives to our wills. He speaks to us above all, by the life and actions of Jesus Christ--these are "His Word" to us--His Own "Word." "God Who, at sundry times and in divers manners, spoke in times past to the fathers by the prophets, last of all, in these days, hath spoken to us by His Son, Whom He hath appointed Heir of all things, by whom also He made the World, Who being the brightness of His glory, and the figure of His substance, sitteth on the right hand of the majesty on High."[9] We become present with God by having present in thoughts, affection and in imagination the life of Jesus. We associate with and converse with God by associating and conversing in spirit with Jesus. He Himself said: "Philip, he that seeth me, seeth the Father also."[10] God on His side mingles familiarly with our life and its concerns, through and in the life of His Word on earth. He communicates His light and His Life to us through Him. Jesus is the channel of the communication of divine grace. Prayer consists in living with and conversing with Jesus with a view to becoming like to Him. Prayer is literally the instrument of a transforming process by which we leave our own form and put on the form of The Son of Man. The function of prayer consists in stripping us of earthly desires: "Stripping yourselves of the old man with his deeds, and putting on the new, him who is renewed unto knowledge, according to the image of him that created him."[11] The following words from the autobiography of St. Teresa form a fitting conclusion to the chapter. "By thought we can put ourselves in the presence of Christ, set ourselves gradually aflame by a great love for the Sacred Humanity, keep company with Him at all times, speak to Him, recommend our needs to Him, seek compassion from Him in our trials, rejoice with Him in our consolations, keep ourselves from forgetting Him in times of prosperity. Let us not seek to make beautiful speeches to Him; but rather speak simply to express our desires and wants. This is an excellent method and makes us advance in a very short time. The person who studies how to live in this precious company and draws there- from a genuine love for the Master who has showered so many benefits upon us, that person, I assert, has gone forward in the way of prayer. So that we must not grow disconsolate, as I have already said, if the feeling of devotion is lacking. Let us rather give thanks to Our Lord, Who despite the imperfections in our works, keeps alive within us the desire of pleasing Him. "This method of prayer, which consists in keeping oneself in the company of the Savior, is profitable at every stage. It is a very certain means of progressing in the first degree of prayer and of reaching the second in a short time. And in the last stages it serves as a protection against the temptations of the devil.''[12] 1. Ven. Libermann, "Ecrits Spirituels," p. 82. no. 2. 2. I Jonn i. 1-2. 3. Faber. "Bethlehem," chap. i. Quoted ftom Rigoleuc "L'Homme d'Oraison p. 35. 4. The word "meditation" is used to designate that kind of mental prayer in which the considerations of the mind are very prominent and prolonged, in this case the name of the first and most salient part is given to the whole. 5. Ven. Libermann, Ecrits Spirituels," p. 294. 6. I Tim. vi. 19. 7. This means an actual intention at the beginning of each small series of acts. 8. St. Francis de Sales says: "Prayer is a colloquy, a discourse or a conversation of the soul with God, by it we speak to God and He again speaks to us; we aspire to Him and breathe in Him, and He reciprocally inspires us and breathes in us." (Treatise on Love of God, Vl.) St. Vincent de Paul says: " Prayer is a conversation of the soul with God, an intercourse of the spirit in which God teaches it in an interior way what it should know and do and in which the soul says to God what He Himself teaches it to ask for." (Conf. on Prayer, 1648.) Abbot Marmion, speaking of prayer says: "In a conversation one both listens and speaks. The soul gives itself up to God and God communicates Himself to the soul." ("Christ the life of the Soul." C. x, Part II.) 9. Heb. i. 1-3. 10. St. John xiv. 9. 11. St. Paul, Col. iii 9-10. 12. "Life" by Henelj, Ch. xii. CHAPTER V: THE TRANSFORMING EFFECT OF MENTAL PRAYER "Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus." Philipp. ii. 5. In last analysis then, Mental Prayer is the act of the soul seeking the society of Our Divine Lord, with a view to receiving His direction and coming under the control of His Sacred Humanity. His life stands revealed in the Gospel; the soul enters into contact with it, by a loving study of its mysteries. The mother of Jesus has given us the example, she herself passed her life doing what we are called to do. The Sacred writer assures us of this twice. saying, "But Mary kept all these words, pondering them in her heart,"[1] and again he says--"And His Mother kept all these words in her heart." In Hebrew "word" means "event" or "happening" usually of a striking or mysterious nature. It must not be forgotten that the life and actions of Jesus were mysteries for Mary as they are for us. The meaning of the text, then, is that she reflected on and turned over in her mind the actions and words of her own Child, studying the events of which He was the center, with a view to probing further into their inexhaustible depths of meaning, in order to be penetrated with the sentiments, emotions and dispositions of Jesus in all these. Mary meditated on the life of Jesus as it unfolded itself before her, exactly as we are asked to do, and for the same purpose- -to be steeped in and assimilated to the spirit of that life. For meditation on the Mysteries of Jesus is not merely an idle speculation followed by a barren admiration of the truth revealed in the mystery. It must be undertaken with an object in view, namely to become good, avoid vice and grow in virtue as a means to union with God. We practice prayer in order to be assimilated to Our Head and Lord Jesus, to reproduce His life in ours. When the soul, touched by grace, determines to abandon the routine practice of religion and to cultivate a real interior life, a beginning is ordinarily made by passing from the mechanical recitation of vocal prayers to the practice of Meditation. The first effect of Meditation is to awaken the soul to the realization that it has a "mentality," an outlook on life, an evaluation of things totally different from that of the Person whose life it has begun to contemplate. This unlikeness in view, in tastes, in tendencies between the soul and Jesus causes the influence of the Savior to be felt but slightly in the beginning. We are powerfully moved and affected only by those towards whom we are attracted sympathetically. If we are out of sympathy with a person, it is unlikely that we should be carried away or elevated or inspired to a higher ideal by that person no matter how gifted or virtuous he may be. And it must be confessed that there are comparatively few that have not been at some time of their life out of sympathy with the principles of Jesus and on a very imperfect under- standing with Him. Before their conversion men are worldly-minded; and this worldly-mindedness manifests itself in that uneasy feeling they experience when they hear of the maxims of holy men and ascetical writers. The words of the Saints, their appreciation of things, their outlook on life--all is, for worldly men, very chilling and uninspiring. The appeal of humanism is felt to be much warmer. There are few of us in whom these words of Father Faber have not at some time of other found their verification--"There are many who when they hear or read of the spiritual life, or come across the ordinary maxims of Christian perfection, do not understand what is put before them. It is as if some one spoke to them in a foreign language; either the words are without meaning or the ideas are far-fetched and unreal. They stand off from persons who profess to teach such doctrines or live by them, as if they had some contagious disease, which they might catch themselves."[2] When a soul fresh form this condition opens intercourse with Jesus, it is obvious that it would be useless for the Lord to speak too much to it. The uniquely in its sanctification. He is not concerned about its earthly prospects except in so far as they have a bearing on spiritual issues. His inner communications to the soul, then, will always have reference to the process of sanctification, and the poor soul, on its side has as yet but little comprehension of what sanctification means and of what its pursuit involves. The soul is therefore not capable of understanding the Lord's intentions unless very imperfectly. But anxious to advance and multiplying its visits to, and its moments of contact with the Divine Master, it begins to enter more and more into the views of its heavenly Director and falls more and more under His influence. At first the soul is in continual activity, the acts that make up the exercise of prayer are practically all its own. It speaks to Our Lord with a dim perception of its wants and a certain realization of its shortcomings. Acts of petition and contrition form the burden of its communications. The growth of the soul in Divine Grace, that is, in Divine Life, is imperceptible. Yet these pious acts produced by a good will have promoted its development and have imparted a certain amount of spiritual vigor. What is taking place spiritually may be illustrated by the process of bodily nourishment. The sensible, evident part of this process is the introduction of the food into the mouth, its mastication and deglutition. All these operations are capable of observation and control. But it is only when these observed operations are completed that assimilation begins, vitality is imparted and growth promoted. The process which is really life-giving is not an object of consciousness, nor does it fall under observation. In a similar way is it in the beginning of prayer. One is conscious of one's activities of imagination, intellect and will. But there is no perception of the effects that, by the action of grace, follow for the soul on these activities of the faculties. So after the soul has elicited and multiplied its acts, the Lord illumines the intelligence to truth and excites the will to good--in the beginning in an imperceptible way and afterwards perhaps more plainly. The touches of Divine Grace are very delicate and normally speaking escape our consciousness. The soul is at the stage when its perceptions of material and natural things is keen, and its perception of spiritual things extremely dull. Still the process of growth in the soul-state, which conditions the supernatural life, goes on. Those acts, that have been spoken of, develop the soul inasmuch as they posit the conditions of development. The development in divine life is of course entirely due to God, the sole source of the supernatural. According as the activity of God on the soul is being exercised in an increasing measure, the soul's own activities diminish. Those of the Lord increase in proportion. The soul simply enters into the Presence of its Director and Guide, who begins to operate powerfully by instructions, illuminations and encouragements. When this arrives at a point where the greater part or almost all the conversation is carried on by the Lord, the soul leaves the ordinary course and enters into the state of mental prayer which is called passive. Hence we see that mental prayer is active or ordinary and passive or mystical. In the former kind the action of the soul predominates; in the latter, the action of God. When almost the whole activity is God's, the soul has entered into the extraordinary states and has to undergo those fearful purgations which wipe away the last traces of the effects of the original revolt. These purifications remove the final elements of that resistance to the Divine, which is found in our nature since the Fall, and thus God is free (so to speak) to evolve His own life in the soul, and the soul becomes almost powerless to resist the Divine influence. We make mental prayer therefore, to be converted from evil to good, from good to better, and from better to perfection; its object as has often been stated, is to create in us those conditions of human mind and heart, which are the conditions of the inflow of the Divine into us through the Sacraments; "For let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus."[3] The end (to the attainment of which, for adults, mental prayer is an almost indispensable means) is the end of our supernatural being, namely, union with God. Prayer aims at inaugurating that union on earth in the conditions and limitations of mortality. Prayer is not, then, the mere asking of things, but a willing associating with Jesus, in order to pass through Him as man to God--"I am the Way . . . no man cometh to the Father but by me."[4] The adoption of His principles of life and the application of them to our own life, is the sole way by which we can arrive at that life of which He as man has the plenitude--the Life Divine. A mere intellectual knowledge of the Gospel story doe, not bring us to this; it is only humble meditation on it, inspired by love, that will bring us to the determination to conform ourselves to the Lord Jesus. Many give up prayer in disgust because they do not understand its meaning, its nature and its end. They believe prayer consists in asking for graces, spiritual and temporal, the acquisition of virtues or the extirpation of vices, and they pray in the belief that God will bestow virtues just as we make presents of books, or take away our vicious habits as we remove dangerous instruments from the hands of children Virtue is a growth and follows the laws and conditions of growing things; the same is true of vice ; in the ordinary ways of Providence the sole mode of its removal is by the growth of the contrary virtue. God does not take away our vices as the surgeon severs a gangrenous limb from the body. We do not get virtues or lose vices merely for the asking. The desire prompting and inspiring our prayer should be the desire of growing in all respects like to Jesus. It is in that growth that vices vanish and virtues make their appearance. We pray to God through Jesus not so much to get something as to become some- thing, namely to become " conformable to the image of His Son."[5] The ultimate object of prayer is to glorify God and we glorify God by being as we should be. The real end of prayer therefore is to be good, to effect in ourselves the dispositions to sanctification, that is, to purify our souls and replace our natural views by the views of Jesus Christ and to substitute for our natural life, His mode of life. This is done by frequenting the society of Our Lord, by dealing in converse with Him, whatever be the form this converse may take. It may be a seeking for advice and instruction, a communing on common interests, an expression of feeling or. sympathy with His sufferings, an exposition of one's own wants and interests, a tribute of praise, admiration or love. The familiar conversation with Jesus may vary very much as to its themes; the effect aimed at must be always a growing conformity to Him. In a word prayer may be considered a going to Jesus for spiritual direction--a direction on the way that is to lead to God. We pray not to dispose God to give, but to prepare ourselves to receive-- to receive that plenitude of Divine life which is in Christ Jesus Our Lord. Note. The brief outline given in this chapter will be developed in the next three. 1. Luke ii. 19 and 51. 2. The Creator and the Creature. Bk. I, Chap. i. 3. Phil. ii. 5. 4. St. John xiv. G. 5. Rom. viii, 29. CHAPTER VI : THE FIRST STAGE IN THE TRANSFORMATION "It is written--not on bread alone doth man live, but on every word that procedeth from the mouth of God." Luke iv. 4. When the soul moved by grace resolves to place itself entirely under the direction of Jesus in view of its spiritual advancement, it is, ordinarily speaking, full of imperfections. Moreover, it does not realize how imperfect it is. Having as yet no comprehension of perfection it is without understanding of imperfection. It is not alive to all the evil that is active in itself. It comes to Jesus with a natural outlook, independent, passionate, sensual, proud, uncharitable, a lover of ease and se]f- satisfaction. Novices in the spiritual life are all this, without their being aware of the fact of anything being wrong with them in that respect. They know of sin only as a positive violation of God's Law, and are unaware that there is an habitual cast of thought, that is more dangerous than an actual evil act. They come imbued with the spirit of the world and fashioned to the habits, formed by the years of living according to that spirit. Life has been for them a tissue of those ideas, judgments, sentiments, principles, hopes, fears, desires, regrets and dreams which envelop the souls of men, corrupt their vision and little by little hide from them heaven and the eternity for which they are destined. To those entering on the spiritual life, things spiritual have appealed but vaguely, whilst all that can be seen, weighed, touched and handled, alone have had value in their eyes. The spirit of the world is the spirit which considers life, health, glory, beauty, riches, family, country, goodness itself, without referring them to God their author and end; it looks upon these as objects to possess without any reference to God. Under the influence of this spirit they are attracted to sensible things, to honors, pleasures and satisfactions of all sorts and they are averse from heavenly contemplation. When God gives the call to the interior life, a ray of Divine Actual Grace penetrates through this darkness that surrounds the soul, revealing to it, in a flash of light, the beauty of the ideal of a spiritual or divine life, and at the same time the will, by an additional grace, is captivated by the beauty of this ideal and moved to embrace it. The soul without as yet understanding anything of the ways of God or of the life of union with Him dimly perceives that it is beautiful and happiness-giving. Then the soul resolves to undertake that search for God which, if persevered in, will end in the finding of Him and of itself. The beginning of the interior life is therefore much occupied with intellectual activity. It is devoted to the consideration of what we are, of what God is. It is a study of the Christian life, its principles and its maxims. The will's activity consists in the endeavor to establish in ourselves the conviction that there should be a necessary connection between the doctrine of the Gospel and our way of living. What is discovered in this study shows a startling contrast between the principles on which most of one's conduct has been based and the principles laid down in the Gospel by Our Divine Lord. There follows on this discovery, feelings of uneasiness, shame, terror and a keen desire to escape from the un- Christian state of soul in which one finds oneself. The newly awakened soul is startled to find that in reality it had been living its life as if the Gospel and its principles were meant to apply only in a partial measure to itself, and were reserved in their literal application only to some rare beings with a special vocation to be saints. It is truly disconcerting to find that there is but one Gospel for all and that one has to conform oneself to that, or face the most severe consequences here and hereafter. Without deliberately formulating it as a theory, the average person practically works out a comfortable kind of Gospel for himself, bearing but a faint resemblance to that of Jesus Christ. In other words people who are not definitely converted to God, Christians who allow themselves to be carried away by the worldly and false life around them, come to justify views, principles and a course of action which find no justification in the teaching of Jesus Christ. "God is hidden in us, and from us," writes St. John of the Cross. "To find Him we must go to hide ourselves where He is hidden. In other words to find God, we must forget ourselves completely, separate ourselves from all creatures and retire within our own interior. Then having renounced all, we can pray to the Father in secret."[1] The beginnings of the Presence of God are very painful and demand strong efforts, for sin (and the habits it engenders) has sown such discord in the original relations between the soul and its Creator, that we are in truth strangers to God--strangers to Him who is our First Principle and our Last End--as if an abyss separated us from Him in whom we live, move and have our being. "We have been so accustomed," says St. Teresa, "to follow every whim and fancy, to gratify ourselves in all that we consider not positively sinful (our efforts to live a Christian life have consisted rather in the effort to avoid what was wrong, than to do what was right)[2] that the soul no longer understands itself as a soul. To accustom it to God it is necessary to proceed slowly, with caution and patience."[3] A vivid realization of the falsity of its attitude towards life is the first strong grace given to the soul when it resolves to turn to God. The work that is demanded from it, if it is to profit by that grace, is that it should form strong, deep and practical convictions on this one point-- namely that the type of life portrayed by Our Lord is the only one that can be adopted by oneself if one is to be Christian.[4] Owing to ingrained habits, the soul finds an active rebellion in itself against the acceptation of this life as its own. Mental Prayer at this point is made up chiefly of considerations; the activity is mostly of the understanding; the role of the will is limited. The acts of the latter are mostly of repentance, an earnest pleading for forgiveness for the past which looms now in horror against the vivid light which God has projected on the background of the previous existence. The soul with a deep sense of its own sinfulness pours itself out in humble petitions for help to improve. The Lord listens patiently, contemplates with pity, says very little on His side (for the soul cannot as yet understand the Divine instructions) but accords an increased taste for spiritual things, a detestation of worldly things, and the grace of strong repentance. The soul begins little by little to see itself as God sees it, because it has learned to make its considerations as if analyzing itself in the presence of the Divine Master. Even when engaged in an examination of its own states and dispositions it must not turn its gaze away from the Lord or lose the sense of His presence. It must examine itself, as it were, through His eyes and in His light. The soul leaves the presence of Jesus with the resolution to practice the virtues which it has seen in Him and to uproot the vices it has now discovered in itself. It succeeds as long as the movement of fervor lasts and is cheated by this success into the belief that it is already on the high road to sanctity. The soul having an imperfect notion of the action of prayer, falls into the mistake of thinking that it can have virtues for the mere asking of them and rid itself of its defects by praying for such an emancipation. It does not realize that to acquire the former and rid itself of the latter, there is required a long process and much labor and toil. To extirpate a vice requires a constant unremitting reaction against its activity, by continual exercise of the acts of the opposite virtue. The soul does not readily understand this, and very easily, in a sense of false security due to the excesses of fervor it has experienced, it allows itself to drift into ways and modes of action incompatible with the interior life. It yields to dissipation, distraction and immortification without adverting to the fact that these faults rapidly undermine the frail spiritual edifice it has constructed. The old habits have not, as it thinks, been burned away and destroyed in the fervor of sensible devotion. Their activities have been dormant for a time but they have remained strongly rooted in the soul. The consequence is that when the fervor has passed and the normal play of circumstances begins, and occasions arise, things forthwith make the same appeal to the appetites as before. Very few realize that every mortal sin leaves on the soul a strong tendency to evil--sets up in it a perverse disposition which does not disappear with the tears of repentance and the sentence of pardon. The habits created by years of the self-indulgence of a worldly life do not disappear in the fervor of a well-made retreat. Unless one is on the watch and exercises oneself in mortification, these habits begin to manifest themselves when the circumstances are favorable to their excitation. The things that pleased of old begin to exercise the same attraction again; and in corresponding measure the taste for spiritual things declines. The inexperienced soul is astonished and dismayed at finding as active in itself as ever the evil tendencies which it believed had disappeared for ever. In the renewed contact with the evil in itself, all the period of fervor begins to appear to have been a time of unreality. Having begun the super- natural enterprise under a false notion, it becomes discouraged and loses confidence in itself. It has erred in confusing sensible devotion with spirituality. God gives sensible fervor in order to enable us to break more readily with our vicious habits. Being immortified we are drawn towards that which is most attractive for us. God, stooping to this weakness and profiting by it in the interests of our salvation, gives us a sensible attraction to spiritual things and shows us natural things in a light which renders them distasteful. By this illumination we are enabled to form a conviction of the superiority of the good of the soul over any merely natural good. This conviction is made to enable us to persevere afterwards when all becomes dark. Spirituality itself has no attraction for nature; on the contrary nature is repelled by it. Our progress in the spiritual life is in direct proportion to the degree in which natures has been brought into subjection. Now, if the sensible attraction for spiritual things were to continue to exist, our nature, that is, the appetite for self-gratification in us, would be nourished by it and would not die. God, to wean the soul from seeking its gratification in creatures, offers it in the beginning a gratification of a superior kind derived from spiritual things. But the soul cannot make progress unless it aims at spirituality independently of any gratification it finds in it. Hence to cure it of its "spiritual sensuality," God withdraws sensible delight in the interior life and leaves the soul to go forward in faith. The soul then finds itself faced with the evil habits and tendencies fostered by a life lived for the gratification of self. To conquer these habits and develop the supernatural virtues of religion, humility, charity and mortification, God leaves the beginner in the spiritual life with merely the firm conviction, based upon faith, of the necessity of acquiring the virtues just mentioned, of advancing in the grace of God and saving his soul. In this state it is evident that things will act upon the individual in the way in which they were wont to act. The soul is affected by things precisely in the same way as it was affected by them previous to its conversion. It is readily drawn towards what is opposed to the life of the spirit, and it has no attraction towards the acts and habits that pertain to the life of virtue. It has nothing to move it to the practice of christian virtue except the rational conviction, enlightened by faith, of the utility and the necessity of virtue if it is to attain to union with God. This is a moment of serious danger in the spiritual life. It is a point where great numbers turn aside and quit the path that leads to intimacy with God. Mortification, the avoidance of occasions that tempt to dissipation or sensuality and the strong resolve to cling to God even though His service involve only hardship and distastefulness--these are the safeguards against failure. But if one is weak, if one allows oneself to drift into the ways frequented before, if one seeks the same satisfactions in pleasant companionships and indulges in the practices of the previous immortified life, if one permits sensuality, waste of time, self-indulgence and self-seeking to invade one's life, the inevitable happens. The supernatural becomes a vague unreal memory, a dream from which one has awakened to reality. The conviction of its importance is obliterated and all the good effects produced during the period of fervor disappear. Having been accustomed to doing always that which is agreeable and to avoid what is disagreeable, the soul gives up spirituality as soon as it ceases to exercise an attraction on it. The soul longed to find in spirituality a bread pleasing to the sensible palate and so falls victim to the temptations of sensuality. The soul at this juncture undergoes a struggle that bears a resemblance to the first temptation of Our Savior in the desert. The temptation is to renounce the pursuit of union with God when there is no longer any " felt " or experienced satisfaction in that pursuit. It is the temptation to ask that the stones that go to make up the rugged path that leads to God, the hard stones of mortification and self- denial, change their nature and be turned into something agreeable to the palate of the natural man. This temptation is very strong and many souls fall victims to it. It is all the more subtle because it seems so reasonable. To the soul, finding in itself a positive distaste for what appears to be the cold forbidding deserts of the spiritual life and finding in itself on the other hand a very strong inclination for and a drawing towards the pleasures of the natural life, it seems absurd to continue the pursuit of an ideal for which its experiences apparently manifest its unfitness. The former efforts after a practice of Christianity above the ordinary now appear the effect of a vain and mistaken ambition. The soul does not "feel" itself to be spiritual, why should it continue to act in the way spiritual persons act? Why not satisfy the natural longings (of course always within the limits of the Ten Commandments) --why not "command the stones to be made bread" and live like everybody else? Carried away by these reasonings the soul gives up the practice of the interior life altogether or becomes slack and perfunctory in the exercise of that life. Its ambition gradually dwindles down to what it thinks to be the observance of the decalogue; the observance of the ordinary law of God as interpreted by itself is sufficient spirituality, it thinks, for one of its humble attainments and unspiritual tastes; it is effort enough to keep within the limits of the main points of Christian law. It persuades itself that salvation may be secured by these limited efforts without facing the hardships of an austere interior life. For a soul that has received the call to close intimacy with God such a resolve may prove fatal. As the temptation bears a resemblance to that of Jesus in the desert, the resistance to it must be such as His was. "Not on bread alone doth man live but on every word that proceedeth from the mouth of God."[6] Bread is undoubtedly the staff of life. But the life that it maintains is not the only one that is given to man to live. Life can have a higher form, and nourishment of another kind. If we seek for a " life that is truly life "-- and that is what we are really seeking--we must give up looking for it in the eating of bread, that is, in the pursuit of those things that are agreeable to the appetite of the natural man. This seeking after and the giving oneself every possible gratification, short of those that involve a grave breach of God's law, does give a certain kind of life, but this life is as nothing compared with that which is enjoyed by feeding our souls on the word of God. Life is to be sought only where it is to be found lastingly; it is so found in intimacy with God, in converse with Him, in nourishing our souls on His communications. Life is to be found for us in the words that proceed from the mouth of God and are addressed to the spirit within. Convinced of the fundamental truth that we are created to praise, revere and serve God, convinced that we belong to Him absolutely whether we will it or no, we must be resolved to persevere in fulfilling His will in our regard,--which will is our sanctification[7]--even though everything that the fulfillment of that will involves, prove distasteful to us. We must be ready to pursue the work of our own sanctification, even though we are sorely tried by hunger after the satisfactions of a life lived for the indulgence of every gratification not positively sinful. We must be strong to rise superior to our feelings and to follow not that which is more pleasant, but that which conducts us most surely and securely to God's friendship. The discipline of the religious life, resolutely submitted to, is a great help in this crisis. The rule calls to the exercise of prayer several times in the day; it enjoins an attention and a reverential posture at these exercises; in this way it saves the soul from a complete surrender to itself. If the sorely tempted soul were free to regulate the activities of its day, it would, probably, abandon the practice of mental prayer altogether as being tedious and unfruitful. There is a definite course of conduct to be followed in this trial if the danger it carries with it is to be escaped. The person that has begun to walk in the way of the interior life, must continue to acquit him- self of his exercises of prayer with fidelity and with all the perfection, at least material and exterior, that he brought to their acquittal when carried away by a strong movement of devotion and fervor. He must do them even though he finds no apparent good in his prayer, even though he has no satisfaction in it, even though he has a positive distaste for it. In a word though he finds himself in no way 'prayerful,' he must 'act as if' he were. Those who are at this point in the interior life must not allow themselves to be betrayed into making their outward bearing reflect what they think to be their inner attitude of soul. Though they feel as if all their spirituality had oozed away from their soul, they must continue to bear themselves in their relations with persons or things, and especially their spiritual exercises, as they did when fervent. The salutary effect of this will be felt speedily, for there is a natural reaction of the exterior on the interior. There is a great virtue in this principle of "acting as if." Men tend to develop feelings corresponding to their actions. The successful effort to wear a smiling countenance induces an inner disposition of pleasantness and amiability. Thoughts in their turn are influenced by feelings and finally actions bear the impress of thoughts. It is by the working of this psychological law that a spiritual bearing and deportment, as, for instance, a deliberately reverential attitude in the presence of God, a christian dignity and elevation in speech, and a courteous attitude towards others, are instrumental in producing a true, inward devotion. For all this, of course, there are needed, courage, energy and self-discipline. The earnest and upright soul must not allow itself to be betrayed into the belief that in acting in the manner outlined it will be behaving in ~n unreal and hypocritical manner. It is a common temptation to judge that it is dishonest not to bear oneself outwardly as one is (or believes one is) inwardly. This judgment contains a profound error. There are in us two selves, the true and the false. We are more conscious of the latter than the former, and that is the reason why the false appears to us to be the real self. By Baptism we have been made children of God and have ceased to be children of wrath. The true self in us, in consequence, is the child of grace, the brother of Jesus Christ. The alien from God has been thrust out by Baptism, ostracized, and condemned to death. "You are not," says St. Paul, writing to the Romans, "in the flesh, but in the spirit . . . and if Christ be in you, the body indeed is dead because of sin, but the spirit liveth because of justification . . . therefore, brethren, we are debtors not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh."[8] We are really false in our bearing and untrue to ourselves when we act and speak according to the unspiritual promptings in us. That character is not acting hypocritically but acting in the very reverse manner, who carries himself outwardly in all the relations of life, as a being that is spiritual, of heavenly tastes, though he " feels" anything but that interiorly. Furthermore, by constantly acting " spiritually " he becomes " spiritual".[9] When Satan, urging this argument of hypocrisy, bids us be such as we find ourselves, he must be met by a counter argument. He said to the Lord, " Why depend on God for your food, why not use the power that is really yours and make these stones be bread ? " The Savior answered that though there was in Him a life that was sustained by bread, there was another and a higher life that was sustained by loving dependence on and union with God. So likewise, when Satan whispers to us that we are really but sinful creatures, with earthly tastes and likings, and that we should, if sincere and honest, act as such, our reply should have a parallelism with that of the Savior's. " True," we should say to him, " we are sinful creatures, but we are not only that. We have been redeemed. By right and title we are children of God." That is what we really and truly are; the other we have been. To act then as it becomes us to act, truly to reflect in our conduct what we are, we must in all things comport ourselves as having heavenly tastes and ideals. It is to be admitted that years of seeking after gratification have developed in us tastes the very opposite of those that befit a child of God. At present, owing to the habits formed by the years of self-indulgence, I find interiorly a contradiction between my true and my false self, and the latter seems to be predominant. Yet by the cultivation of a truly spiritual bearing in all things possible to me by ascetical effort aided by grace, I know that this contradiction will ultimately disappear. The exterior will finally affect the interior; the old habits will wither away and I shall end by finding satisfaction in God alone. My life will be the living by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God. When the soul has in this manner rejected the wiles of Satan, she has taken a decisive step onward in the. interior life. It is because many souls are persuaded that they should reflect in their exterior what they conceive to be their true, but what is in reality their false self, that there is the too common spectacle of those who having begun well end by being complete failures spiritually. The arguments of Satan, condemning as hypocrisy, this effort to " act as if spiritual," must be treated as a temptation and met by counter arguments. The truth is that the Christian is by Baptism a child of God and should therefore have an interior disposition corresponding to that state. He should have affection only for God and for all else in God. When conversion is at its beginning, the evil habits that have been contracted by a past life lived for self, give us tastes quite opposite to the tastes that should be those of a child of God. Those heavenly tastes and instincts cannot become rooted in the soul until the contrary ones have been rooted out. That rooting out will involve time and labor. But in the meantime whilst awaiting the successful termination of the process of destroying the perverse tendencies, the Christian can school himself to act as if the process were complete. He must so bear himself as if his tastes were all spiritual, avoiding such speech, such acts, such judgment, such courses of conduct as mark the non- spiritual. 1. St. John of the Cross. 1st Strophe of "The Dark Night of the Soul." 2. The words in parenthesis are mine. 3. "Way of Perfection"---St. Theresa. Chap. xxvi. 4. In speaking of adopting the type of life led by Our Lord, the words are not to be taken in a materiel sense. To adopt the Lord's life does not involve taking up the occupation of His earthly existence, but it means living our life after the principles which guided his. 5. The word 'nature' here is to be taken in the ascetical, not in the exact philosophical sense. It means what St. Catherine of Siena calls sensuality It is the 'ensemble' of these tendencies both of the spirit and the senses in which man aims at procuring his own satisfaction, independently of the law both of reason and of faith. 6. St. Matt. iv. 4. 7. "This is the will of God, your sanctification." (I Thess. iv. 3) 8. Rom. viii. 9-l[2]. 9. It may be noted that it is equally true according to this psychological law that by exteriorly acting in an "unspiritual way" one becomes unspiritual. This fact frequently becomes of practical importance in the spiritual life. The tendency to take the line of least resistance, to be accommodating, to respond to the dictates of human respect, often leads souls to assume a course of action or agree with a course of thought which is distinctly unspiritual and even worldly. Such "putting on" is meant to be "for the time being," but apart from the fact that it means a definite relinquishing of principles it has the sad result of developing the facility to be worldly and unspiritual and of producing a mentality that is by no means Christ-like. The truth of this is exemplified in the case of religious who in contact with the world (the parlor or hospital) assume the ways and line of thought of those who are not in religion and whose lives are not completely influenced by the principles of Christ Our Lord. If spiritual progress is to be made the soul must adopt the advice of St. John Berchmans: "Make open profession of aiming at the interior life." CHAPTER VII: THE SECOND STAGE IN THE TRANSFORMATION "It is written---thou shalt adore the Lord thy God and Him only shalt thou serve." St. Luke iv. 8. The soul having thus successfully surmounted the first great trial in the interior life returns to God with the conviction that it must serve Him, not for the delight it finds in the things appertaining to His service but solely for His sake and for the sake of union with Him as the end for which it has been created. It is now clearly seen that seeking God is not a matter of delight but of a steady struggle to overcome defects, root out vices and practice virtues. With this end in view, prayer takes on a new tone. Already in the first stage strong and deep convictions have been formed with regard to fundamental truths. The soul now occupies itself seriously with the means of realizing the consequences that flow from these basic truths. The principal of these consequences is that God must be won at all costs and that the life which does not issue in close union with Him is a failure. Acts of sorrow and regret are still frequent, but they have changed somewhat their tone and character. Formerly they proceeded principally from a hatred of the acts of sin because of the evil consequences they involved, now repentance tends to become a dislike of sin as being destructive of the moral beauty the soul aspires to. The soul realizes its own fundamental weakness; it sees that the source of its sins lies deeper than it thought at first. It thought it had only to make an act of the will in order to be good. It thought that it had only to will to change and immediately spiritual tastes would replace the earthly ones. It finds that it can will and will very strongly to change and yet no change follows. It believed that there was nothing more in sin than the act, and that with the cessation of the act would disappear the root of the sins. It has not yet realized that the habit of self-will and self- indulgence is rooted out only by a long course of self- denial. The evil that it still finds strong in itself makes it understand that its own conversion to good has not destroyed in it the source of corruption. It has become clear that this source can be dried up only by a laborious pursuit and practice of the acts of the virtues contrary to the vices it finds rooted in itself. It knows too that its own efforts count little but that much can be achieved by the help of the Divine Master. It trusts to His goodness for that help. Its chief aim at this stage, becomes the acquisition of the virtues and it sets itself to a study of the means to acquire these virtues and to overcome the opposite vices. The soul becomes ardently eager for its own perfection and feels a deep humiliation and shame at its imperfections. It asks the Lord earnestly to assist it to acquire these virtues and to raise it to the perfection it ambitions. Souls at this point often experience an acute spiritual jealousy of others whom they see advanced in the way of perfection; they are pained at the humiliating contrast presented by their own miserable state. This ambition and jealousy show that there is a large measure of self-love and self-esteem in the desire to become perfect. They importune Our Lord, more