Volume I, Treatise V, Chapter XI

Of the Method to be Observed in Prayer, and the Advancement to be Derived from Tt

“My heart is inflamed within me,” says the Royal Prophet, “and in my meditation this fire shall be kindled.” (Psalms 38:4) The method we must follow in prayer is prescribed us in these words, according to the interpretation of the holy fathers, who explain the fire here mentioned to be the tire of charity, and the love of God and of our neighbour, which was kindled in the bowels of the Holy Prophet, by meditating on heavenly things. “My heart,” says he, “is inflamed within me;” behold the effect of prayer. Butby whatis itinflamed? By meditation: “And in meditation the fire shall be kindled;” behold the means, and the instruments that served to light this fire. This manner of meditating, says St. Cyril of Alexandria, is like the striking a piece of steel upon a flint, to extract firefrom it. It is therefore by meditation and reflections of the understanding, that we must continually strike the flint of our hard heart, till we extract fire from it, and till we inflame ourselves with the love of God and of our neighbour, and with an ardent desire of humility, mortification, and all other Christian virtues.

Nevertheless, though meditation be so profitable and necessary, yet we must not pass our prayer in reasoning and reflections only; nor must we dwell and repose upon these; because otherwise it would rather be study than prayer. But all the meditations we make must serve as so many helps to excite the desire of virtue in our hearts. For the perfection of a Christian and religious life, consists not either in good thoughts, or in the understanding of holy things, but in solid and true virtues; and particularly in those acts of virtue we produce, which are, as St. Thomas says, the accomplishment of all perfection. It is this, therefore, we must insist upon, and it is to this we ought most apply ourselves in prayer.

On this occasion, it must be a first principle with us, “to apply ourselves to the study of virtue, and this also not only simply to know what virtue is, but to become virtuous.” (Gerson sup. Magnif. Alph. 86. Littera D.) If we sew, we must have a needle; but it is not the needle, but the thread that sews; and it would be a ridiculous thing, and lost labour, for a man to busy himself all day long in sewing a cloth with a needle alone, with out any thread in it. They act, however, nearly in the same manner, who meditate and make many reflections in prayer, without applying themselves to produce acts of the will; as acts of charity, humility, &c. For meditation must be like the needle, it must pass first, but it must carry after it the thread of love, and such affectionate acts as unite the will unto God.

St. Ignatius particularly advertises us of this, and repeats the same very often, in his book of Spiritual Exercises, wherein, after having established the point upon which we are’to meditate, and having made some observations of less importance, he presently adds, that we must apply all to ourselves, in order to derive advantage from it. In effect, all the advantage of prayer consists in knowing how to apply to ourselves, and to our own profit, what we meditate on, according to the necessity we have thereof. As the sun, says St. Bernard, heats not all that it enlightens; so meditation, though it teaches us what we must do, does not always excite every one to practise what it teaches; nor does it excite affections in all persons. And as there is a great difference between knowing what great treasures are, and the possessing them; and as it is the possession only, and not the simple knowledge, that makes a man rich; so there is a great difference between knowing God, and between fearing and loving him. It is not the knowledge of what belongs to God, but it is his love and his fear that render us truly wise and rich. They make also another very just comparison upon the same subject. As it signifies nothing, say they, to a man almost dead with hunger, to be present at a table covered with all sorts of meats, if he be not permitted to eat thereof; so he that performs prayer profits little by the holy thoughts he receives in it, if he nourishes not himself therewith, nor applies them to himself, making firm and constant resolutions to put them in practice.

But still to examine things more particularly, I say, that the whole fruit we must derive from meditation consists in forming pious desires in the bottom of our hearts, that we may afterwards in due time put them in practice. And therefore St. Ambrose says, that “action is the end of the meditation of God’s commandments.” (Amb. sup. Ps. cxviii-.) Amongst many other particulars, the Scripture informs us of, concerning these holy creatures that Ezechiel saw in his vision, it says, “that they had hands of men under their wings” (Ezechiel 1:8); to let us know, that in meditation we must raise ourselves by the help of our understanding; that afterwards we may come to execute and practise by means of our will. In prayer, then, what we ought to have principally in view is, to excite in ourselves either acts of humility, by contemning ourselves, and desiring to be contemned by others—or an ardent will to suffer for the love of God, proposing to ourselves to suffer with joy the present pains and afflictions we lie under—or sentiments of affection to poverty of spirit, desiring to be rejected and contemned by all; and even sometimes to want such things as are very necessary. In fine, we must endeavour to bring with us to prayer a lively sorrow for our sins; a firm resolution rather to die than offend God; deep gratitude for his benefits; an entire resignation of ourselves into his hands; and an ardent desire to imitate our divine Master in the practice of those virtues of which he has given us an example. Behold here what ought to be the object and the end of our meditation, and the advantage we ought to derive from it. From what has been already said, it follows, that because we make use of meditation and reflection, as means to excite our will to acts of affection, and to holy resolutions, and that this is our only aim and end, we consequently must not entertain ourselves in meditation any longer than is necessary to move our will. For the means must be proportionable to their end; so that when we find our will touched with any motion of piety, as for example, with a regret for our sins, contempt of the world, love of God, desire to suffer for him, and such like other motions; we must imitate skilful architects, who, as soon as the arch of a vault is finished, take away the frame of wood upon which it was formed; that is, we must presently interrupt our meditation, and dwell upon these affectionate acts, till our soul is quite penetrated therewith. This advice is very important, and is given us by St. Ignatius in his book of Spiritual Exercises, where he says, the very moment we begin in our meditation to feel in ourselves these motions of fervour and devotion, we must stop and fix there, without being anxious to pass to other things, till we are thereby very well penetrated and replenished. As a gardener who waters a bed in his garden, and perceiving the water not presently to enter into it, stops a little to let it be imbibed by the earth, and goes no farther till it has sunk to the very bottom, and that the earth is well watered; in like manner, when the water of these holy affections and desires begins to enter into our soul, which is, to speak with the Psalmist, “like earth without water” (Ps. exlii. 6); we must suspend the operation of our understanding, and think only of receiving these salutary waters, and enjoying this effusion of the will, till our heart being filled, we feel its wantsno more. The great St. Chrysostom explains the same thing by another comparison. Have you not taken notice, says he, of a lamb which would suck its dam? He first goes from side to side; he takes, he leaves, and returns again divers times, sometimes to one, sometimes to the other teat; but when he finds that the milk begins to come, he presently stops, and does nothing else but receive it, and take it in large draughts. It is the same in prayer, as long as the dew of heaven does not fall, we turn from one side to another, by means of reasoning and reflections, but as soon as we begin to feel it we must stop, and think of nothing else than of receiving it into the bottom of our heart, and quietly enjoying those sweet and delicious draughts, whereby we may replenish and nourish our souls.

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