The Spirit of St. Francis de Sales Part 35

"Oh, my Lord," cried the sick man, "it is not because I fear to die that I ask you this, but rather because I fear I shall not die, for I can't reconcile myself to the idea of recovering from this sickness."

Francis was greatly surprised at hearing him speak in this manner, for he knew that a longing to die is generally either a grace given to very perfect souls such as David, Elias, St. Paul, and the like; or, on the contrary, in sinners a prelude to despair, or an outcome of melancholy.

He therefore asked the man if he would really be sorry to live, and, if so, why such disgust for life, the love of which is natural in all men.

"My Lord," answered the good man, "this world appears to me to be of so small account that I cannot think why so many people care for nothing beyond what it has to give. If G.o.d had not commanded us to remain here below until He calls us by death I should have quitted it long ago."

The Bishop, imagining that the man had something on his mind, or that the bodily pain he was enduring was too much for him, asked him what his trouble was--perhaps something about money?

"Not at all," replied he, "I have up to the present time, and I am seventy, enjoyed excellent health, and have abundant means. Indeed, I do not, thank G.o.d, know what poverty is."

Francis questioned him as to his wife and children, asking him if any one of them was an anxiety to him. "They are each one a comfort and a delight to me," he answered, "Indeed, if I had any regret in quitting this world it would be that I shall have to part from them."

More and more surprised, and unable to understand the man's distaste for life, the Bishop said: "Then, my brother, why do you so long for death?"

"My Lord," replied he, "it is because I have heard in sermons so much about the joys of Paradise that this world seems to me a mere prison." Then, speaking out of the fullness of his heart, and giving vent to his thoughts, he uttered marvellous words concerning the Vision of G.o.d in Heaven, and the love kindled by it in the souls of the blessed.

He entered into so many details respecting the rapturous joys of Eternity that the good Bishop shed tears of delight, feeling that the good man had been taught by G.o.d in these things, and that flesh and blood had not revealed them to him, but the Holy Spirit.

After this, descending from those high and heavenly speculations, the poor farmer depicted the grandeur, the wealth, and the choicest pleasures of the world in their true colours, showing their intrinsic vileness, and how in reality they are vanity and vexation of spirit, so as to inspire Blessed Francis himself with increased contempt for them. The Saint, nevertheless, did no more than silently acquiesce in the good man's feelings, and to calm the excitement under which he saw that he was labouring, desired him to make acts of resignation, and indifference as to living or dying. He told him to follow the example set by St. Paul, and by St. Martin, and to make his own the words of the Psalmist: _For what have I in heaven? And besides Thee what do I desire upon earth?_[1]

A few hours later, having received Extreme Unction from the hands of the holy Bishop, the man quietly, and apparently without suffering, pa.s.sed from this world. So likewise may we when our last hour comes fall gently asleep.

_Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord!_

Another story told me by our Blessed Father relates to himself and a man with whom he came in contact.

When he was at Paris in the year 1619, this gentleman, who was not only rich in this world's goods but also in piety and charity, came to consult him on matters of conscience, and began thus: "Father, I am much afraid that I shall not save my soul, and therefore I have come to you to beg you to put me in the right way."

The Bishop asked him what was the cause of this fear. He answered: "My being too rich. You know Scripture makes the salvation of the rich a matter of such difficulty that, in my case, I fear it is an impossibility."

Francis, thinking that perhaps he had made his money dishonestly, and that on that account his conscience was now p.r.i.c.king him, questioned him as to this.

"Not at all," he answered, "My parents, who were excellent people, left me no ill-gotten goods, and what I have added to my inheritance has been ama.s.sed by my own frugality and honest work, G.o.d preserve me from the sin of appropriating what belongs to my neighbour! No, my conscience does not reproach me in that respect."

"Well, then," said the Bishop, "have you made a bad use of this wealth?"

"I live," he replied, "in such a manner as becomes my rank and position, but I am afraid that I do not give enough to the poor, and you know that we shall be one day judged on this point."

"Have you any children?" asked Francis.

"Yes," he replied; "but they are all well provided for, and can easily do without me."

"Really," said the Bishop, "I do not see whence your scruples can arise; you are the first man I have ever met who has complained to me of having too much money; most people never have enough."

It was easy to set this good soul at rest, so docile was he in following the Bishop's advice. The latter told me afterwards that he found upon enquiry that the man had formerly held high appointments, discharging his duties in them most faithfully, but had retired from all in order to devote himself to works of piety and mercy. Moreover, he pa.s.sed all his time in churches or hospitals, or in the houses of the uncomplaining poor, upon whom he spent more than half his income. By his will, after his many pious legacies were paid, it was found that our Lord Himself was his real heir, for he gave to the town hospital a sum of money equal to that which was divided among his children. I may add that a life so holy and devoted was crowned by a most happy death. Truly, _Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy!_

[Footnote 1: Psal. lxxii. 25.]

WHAT IT IS TO DIE IN G.o.d.

On one occasion Blessed Francis was asked what it was to die in G.o.d; what was the meaning of those words: _Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, that they may rest from their labours, for their works follow them._[1]

He replied that to die in G.o.d was to die in the grace of G.o.d, because G.o.d and His grace are as inseparable as the sun and its rays. He was asked again, if to die in G.o.d meant to die while in habitual grace, or to die in the exercise of charity, that is to say, whilst impelled by actual grace.

He answered that in order to be saved it was enough to die in habitual or sanctifying grace, that is to say, in habitual charity; seeing that those who die in this state, as for instance newly-baptized infants, though they may never have performed a single act of charity, obtain Paradise by right of inheritance, habitual charity making them children of G.o.d by adoption.

Those, however, who die, not only in the holy and supernatural state of habitual charity, but whilst actually engaged in works of charity, come into the possession of heaven by a double t.i.tle, that of inheritance and that of reward; therefore is it written that _their works follow them_.

The crown of justice is promised by the just Judge to those who shall have fought a good fight and finished their course with perseverance, even to the end.

Going on to explain what is meant by man's dying in actual grace, he said that it was to die while making acts of lively faith and hope, of contrition, resignation, and conformity to the will of G.o.d. He added these words, which have always remained deeply impressed on my mind: "Although G.o.d is all-powerful, it is impossible for Him to condemn to eternal perdition a soul whose will, at the moment of its leaving the body, is subject to, and united with, His own."

[Footnote 1: Apoc. xiv. 13.]

UPON LENGTH OF LIFE.

Judging from outward appearances, from the vigour of his frame, from his sound const.i.tution, and from the temperate simplicity of his manner of life, it seemed probable that Blessed Francis would live to an advanced age.

One day I said as much to him, he being at that time about forty-two or forty-three years old. "Ah!" he replied with a sigh, "the longest life is not always the best. The best is that which has been best spent in the service of G.o.d," adding these words of David: _Woe is me that my sojourning is prolonged; I have dwelt with the inhabitants of Cedar, my soul hath been long a sojourner._[1] I thought he was secretly grieving over his banishment from his See, his beloved Geneva (he always called it thus), wrapped in the darkness of error, and I quoted to him the words: _Upon the rivers of Babylon there we sat, and wept._[2]

"Oh! no," he answered, "it is not that exile which troubles me. I am only too well off in our city of refuge, this dear Annecy. I meant the exile of this life on earth. As long as we are here below are we not exiled from G.o.d? _While we are in the body we are absent from the Lord._[3] _Unhappy man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death? The grace of G.o.d by Jesus Christ._"[4]

I ventured in reply to remind him how much he had to make his life happy: how his friends esteemed him, how even the very enemies of religion honoured him, how all who came in contact with him delighted in his society.

"All that," he answered, "is beneath contempt. Those who had sung Hosanna to the Son of G.o.d three days later cried out _Crucifige_. Such things do not make my life any dearer to me. If I were told that I should live as long again as I have already done, and that without pain, without law-suits, without trouble, or inconveniences of any kind, but with all the content and prosperity men desire in life, I should be sadly disturbed in mind! Of what small account are not the things of time to him who is looking forward to a blessed Eternity! I have always praised the words of the Blessed Ignatius de Loyola, 'Oh! how vile and mean earth appears to me when I meditate upon and look up to heaven.'"

[Footnote 1: Psalm cxix.]

[Footnote 2: Psalm cx.x.xvi. 1.]

[Footnote 3: Cor. v. 6.]

[Footnote 4: Rom. vii. 24-35.]

UPON PURGATORY.

Concerning Purgatory, St. Francis used to say that in the controversy with Protestants there was no point on which the Church could support her doctrine by so many proofs, drawn both from the Scriptures and from the Fathers and Councils, as on this. He blamed those who oppose the doctrine for their lack of piety towards the dead. On the other hand, he reproved those Catholic preachers who, when speaking of Purgatory and of the pains and torments suffered there by the holy souls, do not at the same time enlarge upon their perfect love of G.o.d, and consequent entire satisfaction in the accomplishment of His will, with which their own will is so indissolubly united, that they cannot possibly feel the slightest movement of impatience or irritation. Nor can they desire to be anywhere but where they are, were it even till the consummation of all things, if such should be G.o.d's good pleasure.

On this subject he recommended the careful study of the _Treatise on Purgatory_, written by blessed Catherine of Genoa. By his advice I read the book with attention, and have often re-read it, always with fresh relish and profit. I have even invited Protestants to read if, and they have been quite satisfied by it. One young convert admitted that had he seen this Treatise before his conversion it would have helped him more than all the discussions into which the subject had led him.

St. Francis was of opinion that the thought of Purgatory ought rather to comfort than to terrify. "The majority of those," he used to say, "who dread Purgatory do so in view of their own interests, and out of self-love, rather than for G.o.d's interests. The cause of this is that those who preach on the subject are in the habit of depicting only the pains of that prison, and say not a word on the joy and peace which the souls therein detained enjoy. It is true that the torments of Purgatory are so great that the most acute sufferings of this life cannot be compared with them; but, then, on the other hand, the inward satisfaction of the sufferers is such that no amount of earthly prosperity or contentment can equal it. 1. The souls who are waiting there enjoy a continual union with G.o.d. 2. Their wills are in perfect subjection to His will; or, to speak more correctly, their wills are so absolutely transformed into the will of G.o.d that they cannot will anything but what He wills. 3. If Paradise were open to them, they would rather cast themselves down into h.e.l.l than appear before G.o.d stained and denied as they see themselves still to be. 4. They accept their Purgatory lovingly and willingly, because it is the good pleasure of G.o.d. 5. They wish to be there, in the manner in which it pleases G.o.d that they should be, and for as long as He wills. 6. They cannot sin. 7. They cannot feel the slightest movement of impatience. 8. Nor be guilty of the smallest imperfection. 9. They love G.o.d more than themselves and more than any other creature, and with a perfect, pure, and disinterested love, 10. They are in Purgatory consoled by the angels. 11. They are secure of their salvation. 12. They are in a state of hope, which cannot but be realized.

13. Their grief is holy and calm. 14. In short, if Purgatory is a species of h.e.l.l as regards suffering, it is a species of Paradise as regards charity. The charity which quickens those holy souls is stronger than death, more powerful than h.e.l.l; its lamps are all of fire and flame.

Neither servile fear nor mercenary hope has any part in their pure affection. Purgatory is a happy state, more to be desired than dreaded, for all its flames are flames of love and sweetness. Yet still it is to be dreaded, since it delays the end of all perfection, which consists in seeing G.o.d, and therefore fully loving Him, and by this sight and by this love praising and glorifying Him through all eternity."

UPON PENANCE.

He compared penance to an almond tree, not only in allusion to the word _amendment_ and the expression, amend your ways, both of which in the French language resemble in sound the word _almond_, but by a very ingenious comparison.

"The almond tree," he said, "has its blossom of five petals, which as regards number bear some resemblance to the five fingers of the hand, its leaves are in the shape of a tongue, and its fruit of a heart. Thus the Sacrament of Penance has three parts which make up its whole. The first which concerns the heart is _contrition_, of which David says that G.o.d heals those who are contrite of heart,[1] and that He does not despise the humble and contrite heart.[2]

"The second, which concerns the tongue, is _confession_. The third, which regards the hand, that is to say, the doing of good works, is _satisfaction_. Moreover," he went on to say, "as there are almonds of two kinds, the one sweet, the other bitter, which being mixed make a pleasant flavour, agreeable to the palate, so also in penance there is a certain blending of sweetness and bitterness, of consolation and pain, of love and regret, resembling in taste the pomegranate, which has a certain sharp sweetness and a certain sweet sharpness far more agreeable than either sharpness or sweetness separately. Penance which had only the sweetness of consolation would not be a cleansing hyssop, powerful to purge away the stains of iniquity. Nor, if it had only the bitterness of regret and sorrow, without the sweetness of love, could it ever lead us to that justification which is only perfected by a loving displeasure at having offended the Eternal, Supreme, and Sovereign Goodness."