My senses (as I have described) were continually mortified, and under
perpetual restraint. To conquer them totally, it is necessary to deny
them the smallest relaxation, until the victory is completed. We see
those who content themselves practicing great outward austerities, yet
by indulging their senses in what is called innocent and necessary,
they remain forever unsubdued. Austerities, however severe, will not
conquer the senses. To destroy their power, the most effectual means
is, in general, to deny them firmly what will please, and to persevere
in this, until they are reduced to be without desire or repugnance. If
we attempt, during the warfare, to grant them any relaxation, we act
like those, who, under pretext of strengthening a man, who was
condemned to be starved to death, should give him from time to time a
little nourishment. It indeed would prolong his torments, and postpone
his death.
It is just the same with the death of the senses, the powers, the
understanding, and self-will. If we do not eradicate every remains of
self subsisting in these, we support them in a dying life to the end.
This state and its termination are clearly set forth by Paul. He speaks
of bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus. (II Cor.
4:10.). But, lest we should rest here, he fully distinguishes this from
the state of being dead and having our life hid with Christ in God. It
is only by a total death to self we can be lost in God.
He who is thus dead has no further need of mortification. The very end
of mortification is accomplished in him, and all is become new. It is
an unhappy error in those good souls, who have arrived at a conquest of
the bodily senses, through this unremitted and continual mortification,
that they should still continue attached to the exercise of it. They
should rather drop their attention thereto, and remain in indifference,
accepting with equality the good as the bad, the sweet as the bitter,
and bend their whole attention to a labor of greater importance;
namely, the mortification of the mind and self-will. They should begin
by dropping all the activity of self, which can never be done without
the most profound prayer; no more than the death of the senses can be
perfected without profound recollection joined to mortification.
Indeed, recollection is the chief means whereby we attain to a conquest
of the senses. It detaches and separates us from them, and sweetly saps
the very cause from whence they derive their influence over us.
The more Thou didst augment my love, and my patience, O my Lord, the
less respite had I from the most oppressive crosses; but love rendered
them easy to bear.
O ye poor souls, who exhaust yourselves with needless vexation, if you
would but seek God in your hearts, there would be a speedy end to all
your troubles. The increase of crosses would proportionately increase
your delight.
Love, at the beginning, athirst for mortification impelled me to seek
and invent various kinds. It is surprising, that as soon as the
bitterness of any new mode of mortification was exhausted, another kind
was pointed to me, and I was inwardly led to pursue it. Divine love so
enlightened my heart, and so scrutinized into its secret springs, that
the smallest defects became exposed. If I was about to speak, something
wrong was instantly pointed to me, and I was compelled to silence. If I
kept silence, faults were presently discovered--in every action there
was something defective--in my mortifications, my penances, my
alms-giving, my retirement, I was faulty. When I walked, I observed
there was something wrong; if I spoke any way in my own favor, I saw
pride. If I said within myself, alas, I will speak no more, here was
self. If I was cheerful and open, I was condemned. Pure love always
found matter for reproof in me, and was jealous that nothing should
escape unnoticed. It was not that I was particularly attentive over
myself, for it was even with constraint that I could look at all at
myself. My attention toward God, by an attachment of my will to His,
was without intermission. I waited continually upon Him, and He watched
incessantly over me, and He so led me by His providence, that I forgot
all things. I knew not how to communicate what I felt to anyone. I was
so lost to myself, that I could scarcely go about self-examination.
When I attempted it all ideas of myself immediately disappeared. I
found myself occupied with my ONE OBJECT, without distinction of ideas.
I was absorbed in peace inexpressible; I saw by the eye of faith that
it was God that thus wholly possessed me; but I did not reason at all
about it. It must not, however, be supposed that divine love suffered
my faults to go unpunished.
O Lord! with what rigor, dost Thou punish the most faithful, the most
loving and beloved of Thy children. I mean not externally, for this
would be inadequate to the smallest fault, in a soul that God is about
to purify radically. The punishments it can inflict on itself, are
rather gratifications and refreshments than otherwise. Indeed, the
manner in which He corrects His chosen, must be felt, or it is
impossible to conceive how dreadful it is. In my attempt to explain it,
I shall be unintelligible, except to experienced souls. It is an
internal burning, a secret fire sent from God to purge away the fault,
giving extreme pain, until this purification is complete. It is like a
dislocated joint, which is in incessant torment, until the bone is
replaced. This pain is so severe, that the soul would do anything to
satisfy God for the fault, and would rather be torn in pieces than
endure the torment. Sometimes the soul flies to others, and opens her
state that she may find consolation. Thereby she frustrates God's
designs toward her. It is of the utmost consequence to know what use to
make of the distress. The whole of one's spiritual advancement depends
on it. We should at these seasons of internal anguish, obscurity and
mourning, co-operate with God, endure this consuming torture in its
utmost extent (while it continues) without attempting to lessen or
increase it. Bear it passively, nor seek to satisfy God by anything we
can do of ourselves. To continue passive at such a time is extremely
difficult, and requires great firmness and courage. I knew some who
never advanced farther in the spiritual process because they grew
impatient, and sought means of consolation.