Volume I, Treatise II, Chapter IX

Of What Importance It Is, that Novices Employ Their Time Well, and Perform Their Religious Duties with Great Exactness, During Ther Noviceship

From what has been said, we can infer of how great consequence it is, that novices make good use of the time of their noviceship, and that they accustom themselves to perform, during that period, all their religious duties with great exactness; and what we address to them in particular, may be applied to all those in general who begin to enter on the way of virtue. The first rule we have in the society, ralating to the master of novices, states two reasons, which shew of how great consequence this is, and also proves to us that the charge of master of novices ought to be considered as one of the greatest importance in all religious communities. The first reason is, because, probably speaking, all the future progress of a religious depends upon the education he received in his noviceship, and upon his conduct therein. And the second, which is still of greater weight, that all the hopes of religion and all its happiness absolutely depend thereon. But, to come to a more particular discussion of this point, I say in the first place, that the progress or little advancement of a religious does so much depend upon this his first education, and his conduct during his noviceship, that, morally speaking, it is very certain, that if he is then negligent and tepid in his spiritual duties, he will continue to be the same during his whole life. For how can we imagine he will afterwards become attentive and fervent, since there is not the least reason for believing there will be such a change; but on the contrary, there are many reasons to persuade us he will still remain in the same state.

To make this truth more clearly appear, let us address our discourse to the novice himself—let us lay our reasons before him, and thereby convince him of this truth, in the following manner:—Now you are in your noviceship, you have a great deal of time to apply yourself to your spiritual advancement, and to the different means conducive thereto. Your superiors think of nothing else than this, and make it the principal object of their efforts. You have the example also of your brethren before your eyes, who apply themselves to nothing else; and example ordinarily makes such an impression upon us, that commonly when we are in the company of those who devote themselves to virtue, and who make considerable progress therein, it is hard, how remiss and sluggish soever we be, not to feel ourselves excited to rise out of this remissness and tepidity. You have, moreover, a heart not engaged by worldly thoughts and cares, but which feels in itself a strong inclination to virtue, from which you have no motive to withdraw yourself, but a thousand to urge you on to embrace it. Now if at present, while you have nothing else to do, you make no progress—if you hoard up no treasure of virtue for the time to come; what will become of you when afterwards your heart shall be filled and divided with a thousand different distractions? If now, when you have so much leisure, such opportunities, and so many helps, you make not your prayer and examen well—if now you use not your utmost endeavours to omit nothing—if now you do not perform very diligently all your spiritual exercises—what will become of you when the care of your studies will take up your thoughts, when you shall be put into office, when you shall be appointed to hear confessions, to preach or to teach? If with so many conferences, so many exhortations, so many examples, and so many solicitations, you do not profit at all, what will become of you when you will meet with impediments and obstacles on all sides? Ifin the beginning of your conversion, when novelty should increase your fervour and zeal, you notwithstanding languish and become tepid, what will become of you when your ears shall be accustomed and your heart hardened to all things that may touch you ordo you any good? In fine, if at present, whilst your passions do but begin with you, and your inclinations are still weak and tender, you have not the courage to oppose them, how shall you be able to resist them, how will you be able to overcome them when they shall be so strengthened by custom, and be so deeply rooted in you, that you will not be able to master them, though you use violence even more cruel than death.

St. Dorotheus explains this very well, by an example he relates of one of the fathers in the desert, “who being one day With his disciples in a place full of cypress-trees of every size, commanded one of them to pluck up a little one he pointed at, which his disciple presently did without any difficulty; when he pointed at another somewhat bigger, which he in like manner plucked up by the roots, but with far greater difficulty than the former, being forced to put both his hands to it. To pluck up another, which was yet stronger, he was forced to use the help of one of his companions; and, in fine, all of them together laboured in vain to pull up another, which was much bigger than the former. “Behold,” says the ancient father, “how it is with our passions. In the beginning, when they are not yet rooted, it is easy to master them if we take but ever so little pains; but afterwards, when by a long habit they have taken deeper root in our hearts, it is very hard to pluck them out: then we must use extraordinary efforts, and oftentimes shall not be able even thereby to attain our object.”

By what I have said, we may perceive it is a very great abuse, and a very dangerous temptation, to defer from day to day our amendment, on the ground that we shall be better able to overcome ourselves in the same things at another time; or that we have not at present the courage to oppose them, by reason of the great difficulty we feel in them. If, whilst this difficulty is yet small, you dare not undertake to surmount it, what will you be able to do when it shall become greater? And if at present, whilst your passion is but like a lion’s whelp, you have not the courage to attack it, how will you be able to do it when it shall be grown a large and furious beast? Hold it. therefore as a certain truth, that if now you lead a loose and tepid life, you will hereafter do the same; if now you be not a good novice—a good apprentice—you will never hereafter be a good religious, nor a good workman. If at present you are negligent in the things relating to obedience, and regard not the observance of rules, you will continue afterwards still to become more negligent; if at present you are but little solicitous to perform your spiritual exercises well, and if you perform them by piece-meal, you will continue to do the same during your whole life. All therefore consists in beginning well, as St. Bonaventure teaches, when he says:—“The impressions we receive young are seldom effaced; and he who, in the beginning of a new kind of life, contemns discipline, will not without great difficulty afterwards apply himself to it.” (Bon. in spec. discip.) ‘It is a proverb,” says Solomon, “that the course of life a man has followed in his youth, he will never change the same in his old age.” (Proverbs 22:6) St. John Climacus also says, “‘That loose and weak beginnings are very dangerous, this being an evident sign of a future fall.” It is therefore of very great importance to accustom ourselves to virtue, and to a punctual performance of our spiritual exercises in the beginning; which the Holy Ghost teaches us, when he says, “that it is good to carry the yoke from our youth” (Lamentations 3:27), because thereby /

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the practice of virtue will become more and more easy, and if he does not practise it betimes, “how will he be able to find in his old age what he has not been careful to hoard up in his youth °” (Ecclesiasticus 25:5)

From this first reason thus deduced, we may draw a necessary induction for the second. For as the future perfection of a particular religious depends upon his first education, so also the advancement of religion in general does consequently depend upon every particular man’s perfection. Because it is the religious and not the walls of their houses and churches, that sustain religion; and those that are in the noviceship are they who are to compose the whole body. It is for this reason, that by a wholesome institution, the society has established particular houses of probation, to apply ourselves to abnegation, mortification of our senses, and to the practice of true virtue. And St. Francis of Borgia said, that those houses ought to be a Bethelem for the novices, that is to say, a house of bread; because there we make biscuit and provisions for the long voyages or navigations we are to make, after we go from thence. The time you remain there is the time of harvest, the time of fruitfulness and abundance, in which, like Joseph, you should hoard up for the time of scarcity and famine. Had the Egyptians understood what would have happened, or had they had any forecast, they would not so readily have parted with their corn, which with so much care Joseph gathered together. If you can but conceive of how great importance it is, that you should not quit the noviceship without having made.a good provision, you would not desire to leave it so soon; but would quit it rather with a deep sense of sorrow, when you reflect that perhaps you are very ill provided with all those virtues, necessary for a religious. Those who are desirous and impatient to leave the noviceship rather soon, shew very clearly, says the same saint, that they want experience; because being to make a long and tedious journey, they are not afraid to begin it, though they have not made such provisions as are necessary for it.

St. Ignatius has taken such particular care to have us make sufficient provision of virtues, during our noviceship, that in his Constitutions, he supposes it as a thing certain, that every one has done so. He has established and appointed two years of probation, to the end that in that time we should think of nothing else than our spiritual advancement, and devote ourselves to no other study, than to that which would help us so powerfully to acquire a great abnegation of ourselves, and a high degree of perfection. Moreover, being persuaded that a religious leaves the noviceship with the spirit of fervour, mortification, and retirement, and with such a love of prayer and spiritual exercises, that he ought even to be moderated therein, he advises those, who afterwards are to continue their studies, to moderate their fervour, and to devote less time to prayer and austerities than than they usually did. Endeavour therefore to leave the noviceship such, as in effect this great saint imagines you should be; manage this precious time very well; think with _ yourself, that perhaps during your whole life, you shall not have another opportunity so proper to advance yourself, or to heap together all sorts of spiritual treasures. In fine, to make use of the words of Scripture, “permit not so good a day to pass without profiting of it, and lose not the least part of so excellent a gift.” (Ecclesiasticus 14:14)

Those whom God calls to religion from their tender years, have great reason to be thankful to him; because then it is very easy to apply themselves to virtue, and to submit to the yoke of religious discipline. It is easy in the beginning to bend a young tree, and make it grow straight: but if it grow crooked, and you let it alone, it will always remain so; and you will sooner break than straighten it. It is the same in persons of a tender age. It is easy to make them take a good turn, and apply themselves to perfection: so that being accustomed to it betimes, they afterwards find therein a great facility, and always persevere in it. Cloth that is dyed in the fleece never loses its colour: —How is it possible, says St. Jerom, to bring back wool that is dyed scarlet to its first colour? ‘An earthen pot retains a long time the smell of the first liquor that is poured into it.” And the Scripture praises Josias, “for having given himself to the service of God from his youth.” (2 Paralipomenon 34:3).

Humbertus, a person of note, and general of the order of St. Dominic, reports, that a certain religious, after his death, appeared all in glory to another; and leading him out of his cell, he shewed him a great number of men clad in white robes, and encompassed with light, who carried very fair crosses upon their shoulders, as they went in procession towards heaven. He shewed them others who followed in the same manner, but who shone far brighter than the former, and carried in their hands far richer and more beautiful crosses. After that, a third procession passed, still far more glorious and admirable than the two former; for all their crosses were of a very surprising beauty, and instead of being carried by men, as the former were, either in their hands or upon their shoulders, each of these had an angel that carried their crosses before them; so that they went with a great deal more ease, and followed with far greater cheerfulness. The religious, astonished at the vision, demanded an explanation. The holy man answered, that the first, who carried their crosses upon their shoulders, were those who entered into religion advanced in years; the second, who held their crosses in their hands, were those that entered young; and the last, who marched with so much ease and cheerfulness, were those who from their tender years renounced all the vanities of the world, and embraced a religious life.

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