Part III, Chapter VI

That Humility Makes Us Love Our Own Abjection

We proceed now, and tell you, Philothea, that in all, and through all, you should love your own abjection. But you will ask me what it is to love your own abjection. In Latin “abjection” signifies “humility,” and “humility” signifies “abjection”; so that when our Lady, in her sacred canticle, says, that “all generations should call her blessed,” because our Lord had regarded the “humility of his handmaid,” her meaning is, that our Lord had graciously looked down on her abjection, her meanness, and lowliness, to heap his graces and favors upon her. Nevertheless, there is a difference between the virtue of “humility” and our “abjection”; for our “abjection” is the lowliness, meanness, and baseness that exists in us, without our knowledge; whereas, the virtue of “humility” is a true knowledge and voluntary acknowledgment of our abjection. Now, the main point of this humility consists in being willing, not only to acknowledge our abjection, but in loving and delighting in it; and this, not through want of courage and generosity, but for the greater exaltation of the divine Majesty, and holding our neighbor in greater estimation than ourselves. To this I exhort you; and, that you may comprehend me more clearly, I tell you that among the evils which we suffer some are abject, and others honorable; many can easily accommodate themselves to those evils that are honorable, but scarce anyone to such as are abject. You see a devout old hermit covered with rags; every one honors his tattered habit, and compassionates his sufferings; but if a poor tradesman, or a poor gentleman, be in the like case, the world despises and scoffs at him; and thus you see how his poverty is abject. A religious man receives a sharp reproof from his superior, or a child from his father, with meekness, and every one calls this mortification, obedience, and wisdom; but should a gentleman or lady suffer the like from another, and although it were for the love of God, it is then called cowardice and want of spirit. Behold, then, here another evil that is abject. One has a canker in his arm, and another in his face; the first has only the disease, but the other, together with the disease, has contempt, disgrace, and abjection. I say, then, that we must not only love the evil, which is the duty of patience, but also embrace the abjection, by virtue of humility. There are, moreover, virtues which are abject, and virtues which are honorable. Patience, meekness, simplicity, and even humility itself, are virtues which worldlings consider as mean and abject; whilst, on the contrary, they hold prudence, fortitude, and liberality, in the highest estimation. There are also actions of one and the same virtue, some of which are despised and others honored; to give alms, and forgive injuries, are both acts of charity; yet the first is honored, whilst the latter is despised in the eyes of the world. A young gentleman or lady who refuses to join in the disorders of a debauched company, or to talk, play, dance, drink, or dress, as the rest do, will incur their scorn and censure; and their modesty will be termed bigotry or affectation; to love this is to love our own abjection.

Behold an abjection of another kind. We go to visit the sick; if I am sent to the most miserable, it will be to me an abjection according to the world, for which reason I will love it. If I am sent to a person of quality, it is an abjection according to the spirit, for there is not so much virtue or merit in it, and therefore I will love this abjection. One falls in the midst of the street, and, besides his fall, receives shame; we must love this abjection. There are even faults which have no other ill in them besides abjection; and humility does not require that we should deliberately commit them, but that we should not vex ourselves when we have committed them. Such are certain follies, incivilities, and inadvertencies, which as we ought to avoid before they are committed, for the sake of civility and discretion; so when they are committed, we ought to be content with the abjection we meet with, and accept it willingly, for the sake of practising humility.

I say yet more: should I, through passion or anger, have spoken any unbecoming words, wherewith God and my neighbor may have been offended, I will repent, and be sorry for the offence, and endeavor to make the best reparation I can, but yet will admit of the abjection, and the contempt which it has brought upon me: and could the one be separated from the other, I would most cheerfully cast away the sin, and humbly retain the abjection.

But though we love the abjection that follows the evil, yet we must not neglect, by just and lawful means, to redress the evil that caused it, especially when it is of consequence; as, for example, should I have some disagreeable disorder in my face, I will endeavor to have it cured, but not with the intention of forgetting the abjection I received by it. If I have been guilty of some folly, which has given no one offence, I will give no apology for it; because, although it were an offence, yet it is not permanent; I could not, therefore, excuse it, but only with a view to rid myself of the abjection, which would not be agreeable to humility. But if, through inadvertence or otherwise, I should have offended or scandalized any one, I will repair the offence by some true excuse; because the evil is permanent. And charity obliges me to remove it. Besides, it sometimes happens that charity requires we should remove the abjection for the good of our neighbor, to whom our reputation is necessary; but in such a case, though we remove the abjection from before our neighbor’s eyes, to prevent scandal, yet must we carefully shut it up in our heart for its edification.

But would you know, Philothea, which are the best abjections? I tell you plainly, that those are most profitable to our souls and most acceptable to God which befall us by accident, or by our condition of life; because we have not chosen them ourselves, but received them as sent by God, whose choice is always better than our own. But were we to choose any, we should prefer the greatest, and those are esteemed such as are most contrary to our inclinations, provided that they be conformable to our vocation; for, as I have already said, our own choice spoils or lessens almost all our virtues. Oh, who will enable us to say: “I have chosen to be an abject in the house of God, rather than to dwell in the tabernacles of sinners”? (Psalms 83:11) No one certainly, Philothea, but he who, to exalt us, lived and died in such a manner as to become the reproach of men, and the abjection of the people. I have said many things to you which may seem hard to you in theory, but, believe me, they will be more agreeable than sugar or honey when you put them in practice.

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