Let me give you another example of fortitude, which you can

perhaps better appreciate. Some few years since, in England,

there was a young lady of noble family, and of very attractive

manners, who became a Religious in a convent near the town where

I then resided.

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To please her father, she had, for several years past, attended

the numerous parties that were given among her circle of

acquaintance. Her presence was always thought to be a great

acquisition. But all the while, her heart was in religion. She

longed for the time when her father would yield, and allow her to

try her vocation within a convent's walls. At last, he did; but

what was his grief when he found that she had chosen one of the

most austere orders in the church. She wished to become a Poor

Clare. Now, you may not know that a Poor Clare never leaves the

walls of her convent; she never sees any one; she walks

bare-footed; she uses the painful discipline, and spends many

hours of the dead of the night in prayer, while the outer world

is asleep. Here, then, was a young girl who had been brought up

in luxury, entering at once upon a life of the greatest severity.

When I last heard of her, which was a long time after she had

entered this convent, she was said to be as merry as a cricket,

and the life of her convent, as she had formerly been of her

parties of pleasure.

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Now, how shall we account for such fortitude as this? I will tell

you. It was our Lord in her heart, where she had made Him a home,

that gave her the courage and strength she needed to comply with

his call to her, to be a spouse of his. That became easy to her,

which her relatives and friends could not comprehend. There is no

one who can do any thing great for God, without this interior

life. I will say even more than this; neither she nor any other

member of a religious community, can hope to persevere in any

well-regulated convent, on any other ground than this. With this,

any one, whether in religion or in the world, can trample

underfoot the difficulties and trials peculiar to their state of

life.

God offers us this interior life, on two conditions. In the first

place, we must be in the state of grace. One must first be

introduced to a man, before he can become his personal friend. A

man in mortal sin is as though he did not know God. He needs to

make his acquaintance. He is in a condition that is even worse

than that of a stranger; he is God's enemy, and he must be first

reconciled.

{250}

To drive a locomotive at the rate of forty miles an hour, one

must first get it upon the track, before it will move at all.

You, then, my dear brethren, who are so unfortunate as to be in

mortal sin--you can take no comfort from any thing that I have

said. I have been offering peace to such as lead a Christian

life; but what does Holy Scripture say of you? "_There is no

peace, saith my God, for the wicked_."

Again, we must be generous with God. Ah! now that I have told you

the terms, I tremble for the cause I am advocating. It seems to

me that I hear you answering, as some other disciples of our

blessed Lord answered him: "_This saying is hard, and who can

hear it_." [Footnote 108]

[Footnote 108: John vi., 61.]

[Transcriber's note: The USCCB reference is John vi., 60.]

What is it to be generous? It is to give from a motive of love,

and because it is a pleasure to give. It is to consider the

object to which we are giving, rather than the amount of what we

are giving. What millions of dollars are being expended on the

Central Park here just beside us? We consider the money

contributed, as little in comparison with the importance of the

work. It is an object of pride with us to see tins Park as

ornamental as money and art can make it.

{251}

See what generous efforts are being made, by both sides, in this

unhappy conflict, which has made a battle-field of our country!

Not money only, but blood and life, are as freely offered as

water.

Our citizens who hurried off to California at the time of the

gold excitement of which I have spoken, thought nothing of the

discomfort of a close state-room on board a crowded ship, for a

five months voyage. They had already sacrificed home, friends and

business, and all this was on the mere chance of success.

Now, how is it with us? The burden of the sermons preached from

this altar, the year round, has been merely to get _justice_

done to God. We have been doing our best to get from you what is

barely God's _due_. Our endeavor has been to get you to

restore to God those rights of his, of which you have defrauded

Him; and at best, we have had but partial success. But to-day, I

ask you not for justice, but for generosity. Did I not say well

then, when I expressed my fear that God would find but few who

would accept his terms?

{252}

On his part, He offers to come and dwell in your souls. He offers

you interior peace, supernatural strength, holiness, and

salvation. Now what does He ask of you in return for all this?

That you will act the part of a generous friend toward Him, by

giving Him a large share of your thoughts, words, and actions. He

is the magnet in the centre of your hearts. He is always drawing

you toward Himself. He asks that you will put no obstacle in the

way of his influence upon you. If disturbing causes for the

moment turn you from Him, like the needle which may be shaken so

as to point to the East or the South, like it He calls upon you

not to rest till you have found your rest again in Him. St.

Teresa says, that a generous soul _flies_ to God. She does

not say that it runs, but that it flies to God. Now, what are we

doing? We are content to creep and crawl toward God, like worms

and caterpillars.

My dear brethren, I have told you a great truth, I have

discovered to you a great treasure. It is within the reach of

each one of you. Now I call upon this congregation for some

companions to go with me in search of this treasure.

{253}

I do not expect to arouse the mass of you, as the cry of "gold"

from California aroused the people of this city. I know the sad

truth, that most people love gold better than they love God. But

I _do_ count upon some. You would not expect that I should

urge this "Interior Life" upon you, and remain myself as I am?

Well then. I am going to try for it, and I call again upon you

for some souls, few though they may be, who with me, will try to

be generous with God. I call upon you by your Saviour's love in

dying a painful and shameful death, to purchase it for you. I

call upon you by his still further love in securing to you his

abiding presence, in the most Holy Sacrament of the altar.

Lastly, I call upon you by that act of his love which would be

satisfied with nothing short of making your heart a tabernacle,

as it were, where He may dwell perpetually, where He may live

your life, and where you may live his life, as true children of

St. Paul, who said: "_I live now no longer, but Christ liveth

in me_." I have put my question. I have made my call upon you.

I leave the answer with yourselves.

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{254}

Sermon XVI.

True Christian Humility.

"Every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled,

and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted."

--St. Luke, xviii. 14.

(From the Gospel for the 10th Sunday after Pentecost.)

It is impossible to mistake the great moral of this parable of

the Publican and the Pharisee. It is intended to teach us

humility. The Pharisee, with all his pretensions to piety and

morality, was rejected because he was proud. The Publican, like

the generality of revenue officers in that day, was loaded with

sins; but he was sorry for them, and being humble, and ready to

acknowledge himself for what he was, his prayer was accepted. All

piety, therefore, without humility, is false. No matter what they

may say about a man's good deeds or virtues; if he is proud, he

is no saint.

{255}

There is no surer test of solid Christian virtue than humility.

St. Philip Neri once called to see a sick Roman lady, who enjoyed

a high reputation for sanctity. He found her sitting up, looking

very weak, and very pious. Being desirous of putting all this

perfection to the test, he lifted his dusty shoe upon the

beautiful counterpane which covered the bed, and which, as it

appeared to him, the good dame regarded with more than ordinary

satisfaction. It turned out as he expected. He might as well have

put his toe into a hornet's nest, for the pious lady was so

mortified at the soiling of her counterpane that she let loose

her tongue upon him in such strong Italian terms as came first to

mind. "I wish you good morning, holy sister," said St. Philip. We

may easily imagine what he thought of her sanctity.

Indeed, to prove the necessity of this virtue, we need go no

farther than to the example contained in this day's gospel, and

to the words of our blessed Lord in the text; for He tells us in

plain terms: "_Every one, that exalteth himself shall be

humbled; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted_."

{256}

Since, then, humility is so necessary, let us study it this

morning; let us try to discover what true humility is, and to

fill our hearts with the esteem of it, and the love of it.

Christian humility I understand to be this: _A lowly estimate

of one s own worth in the light of Divine Truth_. This is, I

am well aware, a definition of humility in the mind, rather than

that of the heart; but it is not necessary to dwell upon any such

distinction here, for humility of the heart is nothing else than

the heart's consent to this lowly estimate of one's self, and

practically speaking the two are seldom found apart.

1. Humility, I say, is a lowly estimate of one's own worth. Men

are proud because they esteem themselves too highly; and this

they do because they look at themselves in a false light. They

look at themselves with worldly eyes, and compare themselves with

what they see around them. They plume themselves up on advantages

which, in the eyes of faith, are of little value. They look too

low. The king sees nothing greater than himself, and looks down

upon the nobles; the nobles look down upon the untitled gentry.

{257}

We have neither king nor nobles in our country, but we have a

class of gentry who live upon fortunes made by their fathers, and

were reared in good society. These look down upon those who have

made their own fortunes by some honest trade. The tradesman looks

down upon the farmer, the farmer upon the hired laborer, and the

laborer who has a shanty, with a cow and pigs, finds some one

still poorer to look down upon; and this last, perhaps, is

proudest of all, for he is descended from some patriot of the

Revolution, or, it may be, from Brian Boroihme. If, on the

contrary, they would look at the sacred law of God, if they would

study the pure and holy lessons of the Gospel, if they would

raise their eyes upward to the high and heavenly destiny for

which they were created--if by this new light they would compare

themselves as they are with what they might be, and ought to be,

the trifling advantages of this world would disappear, their

pride would wither away, and give place to humility, the

earliest, if not the sweetest flower of the Christian year.

{258}

But how is it with those who are _spiritually_ proud? Do not

they estimate themselves by the light of faith? No. Their pride

would soon die out if they did. Faith, directing their eyes

upward, would discover to them in God, in Jesus, and in the

Saints, what true holiness is, and their poor store of sanctity

would show like thumb-marks in a prayer-book, or spots upon the

sun. In the darkness of a cloudy night, when only the nearest

objects that lie about your feet are visible, your thoughts are

bound up in that little circle as if all the universe were near

you and beneath you, and you walking on its summit; but when the

clouds are driven away, and the moon and the vast world of stars

appear, the heaven seems like a measureless dome, and you, a

little insect creeping upon the floor, look up in breathless

wonder. So the pathway of a conceited devotee is lighted only by

a few straggling rays of religious truth, and he sees himself

shining as a luminous point in that narrow circle which is

visible to his eyes; but let faith open the sky above him, and

give him one long, calm, thoughtful look at the world above, and

he stands rebuked and humbled. Oh! how little our virtue appears

when, instead of comparing ourselves with the worldly crowd

around us, we look up to see how the saints have lived, and what

they have done!

{259}

During the Moorish wars in Spain, while the Spaniards were

besieging a city of the Moors, a brave Castilian knight advanced

before his comrades, at great peril of his life, and for a

memorial of his valor, wrote upon one of the city gates:

"Hitherto came Vasco Fernandez." His companions were scandalized

at his pride, and anxious to teach him a lesson. The next day,

therefore, another hero of superior prowess forced his way still

farther, and wrote in large letters upon another gate: "Hitherto

Vasco Fernandez did not come." This, my dear brethren, is a

lesson for the Christian soldier also, and well worth learning.

Instead of comparing ourselves with the feeble and imperfect, and

feeding our pride thereby, let us humble ourselves before the

achievements of the Saints.

2. If humility is a lowly estimate of one's self, it is none the

less truthful on that account. We must look upon ourselves as we

really are, "in the light of Divine Truth," for this is included

in my definition. One may think meanly of himself upon false

grounds.

{260}

One may be ashamed of himself for things which in reality are

praiseworthy. There is no virtue in this. Genuine humility needs

to borrow no aid from falsehood. She is a grace bestowed by the

God of truth. Now, there is something very unhealthy and

degrading in this spurious sort of humility, which is founded

upon self-calumny and pious exaggeration, for it leads to

self-degradation. And this is the reason why I abhor the

Protestant doctrine of "total depravity." It teaches men to say

that they are, from their birth and by nature, so thoroughly

corrupt, that there is absolutely nothing good in them. That

there is, in reality, no such thing as natural virtue. That

filial piety, honesty, fidelity, love of truth, chastity and

temperance, have no merit in the unregenerate man, but, on the

contrary, are sinful and displeasing to God. And their doctrine

of justification leaves the Saint as bad as the sinner; for

although his life is acceptable with God, it is not because he is

in reality any better, or that his actions are more meritorious.

On the contrary, his righteousness is all "filthy rags," and

there is positively nothing good in him. He is justified and

saved by faith alone.

{261}

If you say to them, "Ah, well, I understand you; this faith of

which you speak is at least something meritorious, because it is

enlivened and made holy by charity, or the love of God. It is

this which makes faith so efficacious." No; they will not admit

your explanation; there is popery in it; it is only an entering

wedge to make way for the doctrine of good works. They refuse to

accept any principle by which the good man may be supposed to be

really any better than his neighbors. He is regenerated by the

mantle of Christ's righteousness, which does not take away, but

only covers up his "filthy rags." And his lesson of humility is,

to insist upon it that there is nothing good in him. Now, I never

saw any one, either man or woman, so bad that I thought there was

no good in him; and I am always sorry to hear my Protestant

friends speak so ill of themselves, for I don't believe them--I

have seen too much real merit among them.

In truth, all this is false humility. It is but a form of words,

and nobody in his heart believes it, or can believe it. Virtue is

not vice. There is such a thing as real virtue and real merit in

man.

{262}

God has given to all a conscience, which is nothing else than His

own voice applauding or rebuking. There is such a thing as

natural virtue, which deserves a reward in the natural order of

God's providence; and there is such a thing as Christian virtue,

which is begotten by supernatural grace, and deserves the

supernatural reward of the Saints.

No wonder that, in the world, humility is too often looked upon

as a counterfeit and degrading virtue, which takes away all

manliness, hope, courage, and generous ambition, from the soul.

Oh, if it were so, I would suffer my tongue to be torn out of my

mouth, before I would preach it at this altar. If ever there was

a time when we needed manly virtue in the Church, it is now. If

ever there was a time when Christianity seemed to have melted

into effeminacy and pusillanimity, it is now. The race of

Martyrs, of Confessors of the faith, of Christian athletes, of

true Sages and sacred Scholars, of men of action who knew how to

open their eyes, and men of prayer who knew how to shut them, of

Catholic Matrons and Virgins whose hunger after holiness was not

satisfied by crosses and medals, scapulars and holy water--this

ancient race of Christians has well nigh dwindled away.

{263}

We of the present day seem to be playing with religion. We are

not in earnest. We are ashamed of what ought to be our glory; we

are proud of that which constitutes our shame. We have no blushes

for our sins; while we are too bashful to be devout, and too

timid to practise virtue. We acknowledge that we are wicked;

although we do not hold it to be precisely our own fault, but a

fault of our nature, and we have no ambition to be better. We

confess our sins by throwing all the blame upon the God who made

us, and this we call humility. Oh! this is false humility. God

made us well enough; our sins are all our own. If we look at

ourselves as we really are, in the light of divine truth, we

shall find matter enough to make us humble.

3. True Christian humility, so far from degrading, ennobles the

heart in which it dwells. It leads directly to hope; and

hopefulness is, in all great hearts, the essential element of

their courage, energy, enterprise, and success. Now Pride, with

her two brazen-faced daughters Self-conceit and Self-confidence,

stands directly in the way of Christian hope and courage.

{264}

In spiritual matters, so long as one depends upon himself, he is

sure of failure; for without the grace of God one cannot advance

a single step. "_Without Me_," said our Lord to His

disciples, "_you can do nothing_." [Footnote 109]

[Footnote 109: St. John xv., 5.]

With repeated failure comes despair, or at least, despondency;

and then all hope, courage, and generous enterprise take flight.

But how different is the experience of the humble heart! It

begins with self-distrust; it acknowledges its own feebleness.

"_For I know_," says the Apostle Paul, "_that there is no

good dwelling in me; that is to say, in my flesh. As for the will

to do good, that I find present, but the power to do it I do not

find_." [Footnote 110]

[Footnote 110: Rom. vii. 18.]

Not daring, therefore, to trust in himself, the humble Christian

learns to lean upon God, and to confide fully in his grace; and

then he becomes strong and full of courage, and can say with St.

Paul, "_I can do all things through him who strengthens

me_." [Footnote 111]

[Footnote 111: Phil, iv., 13.]

{265}

Thus, in the Christian warfare, humility is the first and last

lesson of all noble, generous, and heroic souls; for their great

hearts are sustained by great hopes, and their hope is nourished

by humility.

Humility, and that hopefulness and courage which grow out of

humility, are also the most efficacious means of converting the

shamefaced, downcast sinner. Take, for example, the habitual

drunkard. The pledge will not help him long; and why? Because he

is degraded in his own eyes, and has no confidence in his own

resolutions. What he wants most is courage, and the pledge cannot

give him that. The pledge teaches him to rely on himself, and on

himself he cannot rely. "I'm willing," says he, "but I'm weak. If

you are going to give me the pledge, put it on me strong, so that

I won't break it." See how the poor fellow is anxious to find

some support to lean upon, outside of his own weak will, and is

almost ready to believe that the priest can give him that

stability which he so much needs. Now, what is to be done? The

only way is to put confidence and courage into his heart; and

this is done by pointing him upward to God, the only source of

grace and strength, and "_who is able to do all things more

abundantly than we can ask_." [Footnote 112]

[Footnote 112: Ephes. iii., 20.]

{266}

Do not take the heart out of him by words of contempt and

scalding abuse, but speak to him kindly and encouragingly. "I

know, my dear friend, that you are weak; but God is strong, and

his grace is able to make you strong. He has had worse cases than

you in hand before now, and made glorious Saints of them too.

Never despair; you were created for better things. Make one more

trial now, and with the help of God you'll shake off this

miserable habit forever." That's the way to reform a confirmed

drunkard who has grace enough, at least, to be ashamed of

himself. Do not strike a man that is already down. Do not make

him more self-degraded than he is, but out of his humiliation

endeavor to fill him with hope in God. Talk to him cheerfully.

Give him a clean shirt and a clean collar. Get him to wash

himself and shave himself, and brush his hair. He will now begin

to feel like a man; and the next step is to feel like a

Christian. Take him then to the Church, and to confession; and

when upon his knees, with, a contrite heart, he has confessed and

renounced his sins, let him there pledge himself against that

drink which has poisoned him, body and soul; and the grace of God

will carry him through.

{267}

In this way, courage and strength are born of humility. It is a

virtue that does not degrade, but ennobles the heart where it

lodges.

I have said enough, I think--all, at least, my dear brethren,

that can well be said within the compass of a morning's sermon,

to illustrate the true nature of Christian humility. I need not

enlarge upon the advantages or the necessity of it. Humility is

one of those sweet virtues which carries its own recommendation

with it, which needs only to be seen in order to be prized.

Enough has already been said to justify that maxim of the ascetic

writers, that humility is the foundation of all the virtues. Any

mason will tell you, that before you can build a substantial

Church you must dig away the loose dirt below, and hollow out a

foundation for the walls. This is the first step of all, and

until this is done, neither walls, nor tower, nor roof, nor any

part of the building can be safely undertaken. It is the same in

that spiritual temple which has to be erected in every soul that

is saved.

{268}

Before we build up we must first go down. Humility must first

begin the work; must dig up and throw aside the sand and rubbish

of pride, and self-conceit, and vain confidence, which have

gathered like a loose soil upon our hearts. Then, and not till

then, are we ready, with faith, and hope, and charity, and the

other virtues, to rear the strong walls, and towers, and arches,

with all the parts and ornaments which make the Temple of God

complete within our souls. In fine, religion is of little use to

one who will not learn to be humble; and therefore an English

poet, varying the figure which I have employed, says very well:

"Ye who would build the churches of the Lord,

See that ye make the western portals low!

Let no one enter who disdains to bow!"

If any thing were needed to confirm this view of the necessity of

humility, we have the words of our Lord himself: "_Unless you

be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter

into the kingdom of Heaven_." [Footnote 113]

[Footnote 113: St. Matt, xviii., 3.]

{269}

Are we then, my brethren, anxiously desirous of saving our souls?

Would we be something in the kingdom of God? Would we become

strong in faith, great in hope, abounding in charity? Then let us

cast pride away! Let us learn to be humble! Let us become willing

imitators of Jesus Christ, who has said: "_Learn of me, for I

am meek and humble of heart, and you shall find rest to your

souls_." [Footnote 114]

[Footnote 114: St. Matt, xi., 29.]

And let us believe his word, that there is no other way of

salvation; for He it is who tells us in this day's Gospel, that

"_every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled; and he that

humbleth himself shall be exalted_."

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Sermon XVII

What The Desire To Love God Can Do.

"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart,

and with thy whole soul, and with all thy strength,

and with all thy mind."

--St. Luke x., 27.

(From the Gospel for the 12th Sunday after Pentecost)

There are two ways in which one may set about fulfilling this

commandment of the Lord.

Sermons Preached at the Church of St. Paul the Apostle, New York, During the Year 1861. · 第 11 / 15 段