Part I, Chapter V
That We Must Begin by Purifying the Soul
“The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come.” (Canticle of Canticles 2:12) What else are the flowers of our hearts, O Philothea! but good desires? Now, as soon as they appear we must put our hand to the pruning-knife, to retrench from our conscience all dead and superfluous works. As the alien maid, before she could marry an Israelite, was obliged to put off the garment of her captivity, pare her nails, and shave her hair, so the soul that aspires to the honor of being spouse to the Son of God must divest herself of the old man, and clothe herself with the new, by forsaking sin, and removing every obstacle which may prevent her union with God. To enjoy a good state of health, it is necessary that we be previously purged from offensive humors. St. Paul, in a moment, was cleansed with a perfect purgation; so was St. Catherine, of Genoa, St. Mary Magdalen, St. Pelalia, and some others; but this kind of purgation is as miraculous and extraordinary in the order of grace as the resurrection of the dead is in that of nature; and therefore to expect it would be presumptuous. The ordinary purification, or healing, whether of the body or the mind, is not instantaneously effected, but takes place gradually, by passing from one degree to another, with labor and patience.
The angels upon Jacob’s ladder had wings, yet they flew not, but ascended and descended in order from one step to another. The soul that rises from sin to devotion may be compared to the dawning of the day, which at its approach expels not the darkness instantaneously, but by little and little. “The cure,” says the medical aphorism, “which is made leisurely, is always the most perfect.” The diseases of the heart, as well as those of the body, come posting on horseback, but depart leisurely on foot. Courage and patience then, Philothea, are necessary in this enterprise. Alas! how much are those souls to be pitied who, perceiving themselves subject to many imperfections, after having for a while exercised themselves in devotion, begin to be dissatisfied, troubled, and discouraged, and suffer their hearts to be almost overcome with the temptation of forsaking all, and returning back to their former course of life. But, on the other hand, are not those souls also in extreme danger, who, by a contrary temptation, believe themselves quite purified from their imperfections the first day of their purgation; who think themselves perfect, though as yet scarcely formed, and presume to fly without wings! O Philothea! in what danger are they of relapsing, being so soon out of the physician’s hands? “It is vain for you to rise before light,” says the prophet (Psalms 126:2); “rise after you have sitten,” and he himself practised this lesson; for having been already washed and cleansed, he desires to be washed and cleansed still more and more. (Psalms 50:4) The exercise of purifying the soul neither can nor ought to end but with our life; let us not then be disturbed at the sight of our imperfections, for perfection consists in fighting against them: and how can we fight against them without seeing them, or overcome them without encountering them? Our victory consists not in being insensible to them, but in refusing them our consent; now to be displeased with them, is not to consent to them. It is absolutely necessary for the exercise of our humility that we should sometimes meet with wounds in this spiritual warfare; but then we are never overcome, unless we either lose our life or our courage. Now, imperfections or venial sins cannot deprive us of our spiritual life, which is not lost, but by mortal sin. It then only remains that we lose not our courage. “Save me, O Lord!” said David, “from pusillanimity of spirit, or cowardice and faint-heartedness.” It is happy for us that in this warfare we shall always be victorious, provided we do but fight.
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