The Works of the
Rev. John Wesley, M.A.
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THE
WORKS
OF THE
Rev. JOHN WESLEY, M.A.
Late Fellow of _Lincoln-College_, OXFORD.
VOLUME XI.
BRISTOL:
Printed by WILLIAM PINE, in _Wine-Street_.
MDCCLXXII.
THE
CONTENTS
Of the ELEVENTH VOLUME.
An Extract of the life and death of
Mr. _Thomas Haliburton_.
PART ♦IV.
♦ “III.” replaced with “IV.”
Chapter IV. _Of his death._
An extract of the life of
Monsieur _de Renty_.
Chapter I. _Of his marriage, birth, and general way of life._
Chapter II. _His humility._
Chapter III. _His self-denial and mortification._
Chapter IV. _His patience._
Chapter V. _His faith._
Chapter VI. _His hope._
Chapter VII. _His love of God._
Chapter VIII.
Section I. _His love of man in general._
Section II. _His charity to the poor._
Section III. _His charity to the sick._
♦Section IV. _His zeal for the salvation of his neighbour._
♦ “VI.” replaced with “IV.”
Chapter IX. _His outward behaviour and conduct of business._
Chapter X. _His death._
An extract from the life and death of
_Thomas Walsh_.
_The introduction._
Chapter I. _Of his birth and education._
Chapter II. _Of his religion, and the struggle which he found
between nature and grace, till the sixteenth year of his
age._
Chapter III. _Giving a farther account of him; the corruptions
he struggled against, and the means he made use of to subdue
them._
Chapter IV. _Of his forsaking the church of |Rome|._
Chapter V. _Some further account of his progress in the way
of life, with other reasons of his conduct, in regard of the
church of |Rome|._
Chapter VI. _Of some particulars previous to his Conversion._
Chapter VII. _Giving a farther account of his soul particularly
of his deep convictions._
Chapter VIII. _Of his finding rest to his soul._
Chapter IX. _Of the confirmation of his soul in the grace of
God, and the happy effects which it produced in him._
Chapter X. _His employment among his Christian brethren, and
the treatment he met with from the world._
Chapter XI. _His providential appointment to labour for the
good of his neighbour, by preaching the gospel._
Chapter XII. _He begins to preach._
PART II.
Chapter I. _Of his entire application to preaching the gospel._
Chapter II. _He goes into the provinces of |Leinster| and
|Connought|, and preaches the word there._
Chapter III. _Some farther account of the troubles he met with,
on account of preaching the gospel._
♦Chapter IV. _A short account of the endeavours of the Romish
clergy, to prevent his usefulness among their people._
♦ “VI” replaced with “IV”
Chapter V. _He goes to |England|, and labours there._
Chapter VI. _His love to souls, and zeal for promoting the
glory of God._
Chapter VII. _His application to study, love to the holy
scriptures, improvement which he made thereof._
Chapter VIII. _His manner of preaching._
Chapter IX. _Of his frequent sickness, the exercises of his
mind therein, and the improvement which he made thereof._
Chapter X. _Of his temptations, conflicts, and exercises of
soul._
Chapter XI. _His communion with God._
Chapter XII. _Some farther particulars, relating to the head
of his communion with God._
PART III.
Chapter I. _An extract from Mr. |Thomas Walsh|’s diary,
relating chiefly, to the experience of his own soul, in his
course of |walking with God|._
Chapter II. _The extract from his diary continued._
Chapter III. _The same continued._
An EXTRACT of the
LIFE AND DEATH OF
Mr. THOMAS HALIBURTON.
PART ♦IV.
♦ “III.” replaced with “IV.”
CHAPTER IV.
_Of his death._
1. ON _Wednesday, September 17_, (and some days preceding) he was under
great trouble of mind; and a friend asking him that morning, How he
had rested in the night? He answered, “Not well. I have been this night
sore tossed with the thoughts of eternity. I have been thinking on the
_Terribilia Dei_¹, and all that is difficult in death to a Christian.
All my enemies have been round about me. I had a great conflict, and
faith was like to fail. O that I may be kept now in this last trial,
from being an offence to his people!”
¹ _i. e._ The terrible things of God.
In the afternoon, when some of his brethren visited him, he said, “I
am but young, and of little experience, but this death-bed now makes me
old; therefore I use the freedom to exhort you to faithfulness in the
Lord’s work. You will never repent this. He is a good master. I have
always found him so. If I had a thousand lives I should think all too
little to be employed in his service.”
2. _Thursday, September 18._ Being asked in the morning, How he was? He
said, “O what a terrible conflict had I yesterday! But now I may say,
I have fought the good fight, I have kept the faith. Now he hath put a
new song in my mouth. Praise, praise is comely for the upright. Shortly
I shall have another sight of God than ever I had, and be more fit to
praise him than ever. O the thoughts of an incarnate God are sweet and
ravishing! And, O! how do I wonder at myself, that I do not admire him
more! O that I could honour him? What a wonder I enjoy such composure
under these pains, and in view of approaching death! O, what a mercy,
that I have the use of my reason, till I have declared his goodness to
me!”
To his wife he said, “He came to me in the third watch of the night,
walking upon the waters; and he said to me, I am _Alpha_ and _Omega_,
the beginning and the end: I was dead, and am alive, and live for
evermore and have the keys of death and hell. He stilled the tempest
of my soul, and there is a sweet calm.”
When desired to be tender of his health, he said, “I’ll strive to last
as long as I can. I have no more to do with my time, but to _tepe it
out_¹ for the glory of God.” Then he said, “I shall see my Redeemer
stand on the earth at the last day. But before then, I shall see the
Lamb in the midst of the throne. O, it will be a glorious company, the
spirits of just men made perfect, and Jesus the mediator of the new
covenant! O, for grace! Grace to be patient to the end!”
¹ _i. e._ Spend it thriftily.
Then he desired a minister to pray.
After prayer, he called for a little water to wash his eyes, and said,
“I hope to get them washed shortly, and made like doves eyes, and then
farewel sin, farewel sorrow.”
Then taking some refreshment, he said, “I get sleep from him, and food
from him; and I shall get himself. My flesh and my heart faileth; but
God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.”
Seeing his youngest child, he said to her “_Mary_, my dear, the Lord
bless you; the God of your father, and my father, bless you; the God
that fed me all my life; the angel that redeemed me from evil, bless
you and the rest, and be your portion; that is a good heritage, better
then if I had crowns and scepters to leave you. My child, I received
you from him, and I give you to him again.”
To his wife he said, “My dear encourage yourself in the Lord; he will
keep you, though you even fall into enemies hands.” And then, declaring
his willingness to part with his dearest relations, he said, “This is
the practice of religion, to make use of it when we come to the pinch;
this is a lesson of practical divinity.”
When the physician came, he said, “Doctor, as to this piece of work,
you are near at an end of it. God be with you, and persuade you to be
in earnest; I return you thanks for your diligence. Is my pulse low? I
am well pleased it is. I would have been content to have been away long
e’re now; a few strokes more, and victory, victory, forever, through
the captain of our salvation!”
“Now get acquaintance with God. The little acquaintance I have had with
God within these two days, has been better than ten thousand times the
pains I have been at all my life about religion. It is good to have
him to go to, when we are turning our face to the wall. He is known in
_Sion_ for a sure refuge, a very present help in trouble.”
“What a strange hardness there is in the hearts of men? But whether
they will hear, or whether they will forbear, it is our duty to speak;
and when we are dead and gone, what we spoke in the name of the Lord,
may take hold of them.”
To his eldest child he said, “Ah, _Margaret_, you seem sometimes to
have convictions from God. Beware of them; they are the most dangerous
things you ever meddled with. Each of them is God’s messenger; and if
you despise the messenger of God, he will be avenged of you.”
To a minister who came in he said, “I am waiting for the salvation of
God.” He answered, “If the Lord would spare you it would be a mercy
to this place.” He replied, “What can a poor wretch signify? I could
do nothing: I signify nothing. But, I tell you, brother, what I have
thought of long; I fear, from the taking off the servants of God at
this time, that there is like to be a general overflowing consumption,
running over not only this, but all the reformed churches.”
To the apothecary he said, “Study religion in youth: when you come to
be as I am, you will find no comfort without it. I give you this as
a solemn warning from God; if you come to be hardened by the frequent
sight of men in my state, you may come to be hardened for ever.”
To three ministers he said, “My dear brethren, it is purely from a
sincere love to you, that I presume to say, when God helped me to
diligence in studying and meditating, I found him then remarkably
shining upon me. There is nothing to be had with a slack hand. You
are in an evil day. However, be ♦faithful and God will strengthen you
for his own work, if you are faithful therein. You cannot, it is true,
bring all persons to the Lord, but you may make their consciences, will
they, or nill they, speak for the Lord.
♦ “faithul” replaced with “faithful”
“I repent continued he, I did not do more for him; but I have peace
in it; what I did, I did in sincerity: he accepts of the mite. It was
the delight of my heart to preach the gospel, and it made me sometimes
neglect a frail body. I desired to decrease, that the bridegroom might
increase, and to be nothing, that he might be all. And I rejoice in his
highness.
*“Brethren, this is encouragement to you to try and go farther. Alas! I
have gone no length; but would fain have gone farther: the hand of the
diligent maketh rich. Much study, much prayer, temptations also, and
distinct deliverances from temptations, are useful helps, I was fond
enough of books; but I must say what God let me see of my ill heart,
was of more use than all my books.” One said, “This is to believe and
therefore to speak.” He replied, “The Lord help me to honour him. I
desire no more. O that I had the tongues of men and angels to praise
him! I hope shortly, to get a will to answer my duty, and ability to
answer my will. O to be helped so, and to fear always! How soon should
I fall, if he withdrew! But do not stumble, Sirs, though, I should be
shaken. The foundation standeth sure.”
When advised to be quiet a little, he said, “How should a man bestow
his last breath, but in commending the Lord Jesus Christ, God cloathed
in our nature, dying for our sins!” And when again prest to be tender
of his body, he said, “O but my heart is full!” And then desiring a
minister to pray for him, he said, “Pray that God may have pity on a
weak thing, that is not able to bear much in the conflict!”
To two other ministers he said, “Above all scan your own hearts, and
make use of what discoveries you get there, to enable you to dive into
consciences, to awaken hypocrites, and to separate the precious from
the vile; and to do it with that accuracy, and caution, as not to make
sad the hearts which God hath made glad!”
“With respect to the difference which this oath is like to make among
ministers, with the greatest earnestness I say, whenever it begins,
remember, difference is a hot thing; there must be condescension,
tenderness and forbearance. We must not fly at the ball. Whatever
apprehensions I have, of some ministers not acting conscientiously,
and preaching in such a way as may do hurt; yet I would speak tenderly,
and act tenderly toward them. Let there be much of the forbearance and
meekness that is in Jesus. Follow peace: peace is worth much: wound
not our church among her enemies. The deadly evil which I fear will
ruin all, is, coldness and indifferency. Many seem to try, how far they
may go without being lost; but the Christian’s rule is, to stand at a
distance.”
To him who had succeeded him in the parish of _Ceres_, he said,
“That people were my choice, to whom, with much peace and pleasure,
I preached, as I could, though not as I should, the gospel of Christ.
Though I own, that in all things I have sinned exceedingly before the
Lord, yet I have peace, in that with much concern I aimed at leading
them to the Lord Jesus. Tell them, that I die rejoicing in the faith
and profession of what I often preached to them, under a low state of
body. Tell them, that the gospel I preached to them, if they receive it
not, will be a witness against them. We are, like our master, set for
the fall and rising again of many. And if we can do no more, yet if we
be faithful, they shall know, that a prophet hath been among them.”
*In the night-time he said, “This growing weakness of my eyes, is a
sign of a change approaching. If he shut my eyes he will open my eyes:
eyes no more to behold vanity. But I shall behold him in righteousness,
and when I awake, I shall be satisfied with his likeness!”
*Afterwards he said, “If this be the last day of my conflict, I would
humbly desire of the Lord, that he would condescend, to be tender to
one that loves his appearing: that as he has dealt wonderfully with me
hitherto, so he may deal tenderly with me even to the end, in loosing
the pins of my tabernacle, and helping me to honour him by a composed
resignation of myself into his hands.”
When one said, “Sir, I think you have need of rest:” He answered,
“I have no need of rest, were it not to put me in case, to finish my
course with joy. Lo, here the power of Christ’s death, and the efficacy
of his resurrection! I find the advantage of one at the right-hand of
God, who is able to save to the uttermost! That is the sight I long
for: he will but shut my eyes, and open them in glory. To have my soul
entirely submissive to him in all things, that is my desire. And, so
it will be shortly; then never will there be a reluctant thought, never
one more estranged thought from God!”
*To one who asked, if he was not faint, he answered, “I am not faint,
I am refreshed as with wine. O there is a sweet calm in my soul. My
desires are towards him, and the remembrance of his name. Remember him!
Why should not I remember him, that remembered me in my low condition?
He passed by and said, live! And when he says, he gives life.”
He then desired to have read the former part of the first chapter of
the second epistle to the _Corinthians_. And after the 9th and 10th
verses were read, _We had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we
should not trust in ourselves but in God which raiseth the dead: who
delivered us from so great a death, and doth deliver, in whom we trust
that he will yet deliver us_. He said, “Now there ’tis all. God _hath_
delivered me, and I trust that he _will_ deliver me, and bruise Satan
shortly under my feet, and I shall get the victory over the cunning
world, and the deceitful heart. Many a weary day have I had with my
unbelief! If I had had faith to believe things not seen, to believe
that my happiness lay not in things temporal but eternal: if I had had
faith’s abiding impression realizing these things, I should not have
known how to abide out of heaven a moment.”
*When he was desired to sleep, he answered, “Those I am going to, sleep
not day nor night, but cry, Holy, holy, holy! They that wait on the
Lord shall renew their strength, and mount up with wings as of an eagle.
I cannot get my heart in a right tune, as I would have it; but it will
be so in a short time.” After he had lain still a little, one said,
“You have not slept.” He answered, “No; I had much work; but blessed be
God, pleasant work.”
Afterwards, when his wife asked how he was, he said, “My dear, I am
longing for the salvation of God, and hastening to it.” Then seeing her
very sad, he said, “My dear, encourage yourself; here is a body going
to clay, and a soul going to heaven; where I hope you are to come.”
*3. _Friday, September 19._ About five in the morning, when he was
desired to try if he could sleep, he answered, “No, no; should I lie
here altogether useless? Should not I spend the last of my strength,
to shew forth his glory?” He then held up his hands (which were much
swelled) and said, “Lame hands, and lame feet! But see a lame man
leaping and rejoicing!”
*Feeling some pain, he said, “This is one of the fore-runners of the
change, the great change. O when shall I be admitted to see the glory
of the higher house? Instead of that cloudy light of a created sun, to
see that clear and perfect glory!”
After some time’s silence, he took leave of his wife and children,
saluting and speaking to them all, one by one. Then he said, “A kind
and affectionate wife you have been to me. The Lord bless you, and he
shall bless you.” To a minister that came in, he said, “Brother, I am
upon a piece of trying work. I am parting with my wife and children.
I am resolved, I bless his name; though I have had one of the best of
wives, yet she is no more mine, but the Lord’s.”
*Then to his son he said, “God bless the lad, and let my name be named
upon him. But O, what is my name! Let the name of the Lord be named
upon him. Tell the generation following, how good God is, and hand down
this testimony.”
After that, he spoke to his servants and said, “My dear friends, make
religion your business. I charge you all, beware of graceless masters;
seek to be with them that fear the Lord.”
Then he said, “Here’s a demonstration of the reality of religion; and
that I a poor, weak, timorous man, once as much afraid of death as any:
I that have been many years under the terrors of death, come now, in
the mercy of God, and by the power of his grace, composedly and with
joy to look death in the face. I have seen it in its paleness, and in
all its circumstances of horror. I dare look it in the face in its most
ghastly shape, and hope within a while to have the victory.”
He then said to some ministers, “My brethren, I have been giving up my
wife and children to God. I am upon the wing for eternity; but glory to
God, I know in whom I have believed.”
*Then he said, “Dear brethren, will you speak a word to one that longs
to hear of him? O I love to hear the gospel, I love to preach it: ’Tis
a joyful sound, a sweet sound. I love to hear of his name. His name is
as ointment poured forth. I love to live preaching Christ; and I love
to die preaching Christ.”
After that he said, “Brethren, I take this opportunity to acknowledge
your tenderness to me, who am unworthy of it in many respects. I can
say, I desired to live in love with you, and bless God, there was
harmony among us. The Lord bless you and your labours: the Lord himself
multiply blessings on you and your families, and support you against
all discouragements.” Then to one of them he said, “My dear friend,
shew kindness to my dear wife, and children. I recommend her to your
care; she has been the friend of my bosom, the wife of my youth, a
faithful friend.” Afterward he said, “Let patience have its perfect
work. My soul longs more than they that wait for the morning. Lord
Jesus make haste, until the day break, and the shadows flee away!”
4. After this, at his desire, a paper was read over, which he had
dictated some days before. This he owned before several witnesses, and
desired them to attest it. The tenor whereof follows.
Having before so disposed of my worldly concerns, as I judged expedient
for my family; I thought myself bound, moreover, by this latter will,
to declare my sentiments as to religion; being through the mercy of God,
in the full and composed exercise of my reason, although very weak in
body.
_First_, then, I acknowledge, I came into the world a defiled branch
of apostate _Adam_, under the guilt of his sin, and tainted with the
pollution of sin derived from him; having a heart full of alienation
from, and enmity against God: in a word, a child of wrath, an heir of
hell. And long did I follow the bent of this corrupt nature, going on
from ill to worse: indeed I had ruined myself, and could do nothing
for my own recovery; and must have been everlastingly lost, if God in
tender mercy had not looked upon me.
I must, on the other hand, bless God who cast my lot in a land where
the gospel of Christ is revealed; who so ordered it, that I was born
of religious parents, and by them was seriously devoted to him. And
whereas I early subjected myself to other lords, I adore God, that by
his word and his spirit, he ceased not to strive with me, until in the
day of his power he made me chearfully return to the God of my fathers.
I bless God, that when I stood trembling under the terrors of his law,
he seasonably snatched me from despair, by discovering the blessed way
of salvation for self-destroyed sinners through a dying Saviour. ’Tis
he alone who must answer for me. Without him I am undone. On him the
efficacy of his sufferings, the power of his resurrection, and of his
whole mediation, as revealed in the gospel, do I build all my hope.
I bless God that ever he honoured such a sinful, unworthy worm, to
preach the glorious gospel of his Son. I confess I have but ill managed
this glorious trust, but have been a sinner in all I did exceedingly.
Yet so far as I know my own heart, it was the life of my life, to
preach Christ crucified; nor durst I deal coldly and indifferently in
a matter whereon I knew depended both my own and my hearers salvation.
And I must bear testimony to my master, that he never bid me go any
part of my warfare upon my own charges. If I was straitened, it was
_in my own bowels_; but when I freely gave what I had freely received,
I never wanted seed for sowing, and bread for the eater, nor (I hope)
a blessing.
I desire to join my insignificant testimony to that of the glorious
cloud of witnesses, that _the gospel is the power of God unto salvation,
to every one that believeth_; that the way of holiness is the way
of pleasantness and peace; and the ordinances of the gospel, are the
effectual means of communion and fellowship with the Father and the Son.
Indeed all in God’s way, and in his word, is glorious, honourable,
and like himself: he needs none of our testimonies; but it is the
least we can do to celebrate his praises. I therefore being in some
sense obliged, take this solemn occasion, before all the world, to
acknowledge these, among many other obligations, I have received from
him. And to bequeath, as my last legacy to my family, this advice, to
chuse the Lord for their God: for he hath been my father’s God, the
God both of my wife’s predecessors and mine. We hope he hath been our
God. And I recommend him to my children, solemnly charging them, as
they will answer it at the last day, to make it their first care, to
seek peace with God, and reconciliation through Christ crucified; and
being reconciled, to make it their perpetual study to please him in
all things. It is my repeated charge to you all, follow God; follow him
early, follow him fully. I have oft devoted you, as I could, to God;
and there is nothing I have so much at heart as to have this stand,
that ye may indeed be the Lord’s. O that God himself may determine your
tender hearts to seek him early, and he will be a good portion, and see
well to you.
As for my body, I commit it to the dust under the care of the keeper of
_Israel_; expecting and hoping that that quickning spirit, who is the
spirit of the head, and actuates all the members of his mystical body,
will in due time, quicken my mortal body: and for my spirit, I commit
it unto the Lord Jesus, with whom I have entrusted it long ago: and I
will end with _Stephen_, crying, Lord Jesus, _receive my spirit_.
THO. HALIBURTON.
3. Soon after he said, “I confess God has been beating me in a mortar
this long time; but he has been doing much work. My soul is even
as a weaned child. I am loosed from all my enjoyments. My heart is
disengaged even from my dearest wife and children, but I have put them
in a good hand.”
To a friend he said, “There is a sweet composure in the Lord. The beams
of the house are, as goodly cedar. I am laying down my tabernacle to
resume it again. O for grace to be faithful unto death! After we have
gone through many things, we have still need to wait on God till the
last. For _he that endureth to the end, the same shall be saved_.”
Then he said to the physician, “I fancy my feet are growing cold:
yea all the parts of this body are going to ruin. You may believe a
man stepping into eternity. I am not acting as a fool. I have weighed
eternity this night. I have looked on death in every circumstance that
is terrible to nature. And under the view of all these, I found, that
in the way of God there is not only a rational satisfaction, but a
power that engages and rejoices the heart. I have narrow thoughts: I
am like to be overwhelmed, and, I know not where I am, when I think on
what I am to be, and what I am to see. I have long desired and prayed
for it.”
*Some time after he said, “O sirs, I dread mightily, that a _rational_
sort of religion is coming in among us, a religion that consists wholly
in moral duties and ordinances, without _the power of godliness_, a way
of serving God which is mere deism, having no relation to Jesus Christ
and the Spirit of God.”
To a minister that came from _Edinburgh_, he said, “Come and see your
friend in the best case you ever saw him in, longing for a deliverance,
and hasting to the coming of the day of God. I sent for you, to
encourage you to preach the gospel in an ill world, and to stand by
Christ, who had been so good to me. This is the best pulpit that ever
I was in. I am now laid on this bed for this end, that I may commend my
Lord.”
6. _Saturday, September 20._ In the morning when a minister asked how
he was, he answered, “I am composed, waiting for him.” He replied, “You
see how kindly he deals with you: he gives you both heavenly exercise
and heavenly enjoyments: he deals so tenderly with you, that you have
little to do but to praise.” He answer’d, “I have reason to desire the
help of all to praise him. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is
within me, magnify his holy name!”
To some entering the room, he said, “You are all very welcome. I am
taking a little wine for refreshment. In awhile, I shall have new wine
in the kingdom of his glory. I dare scarce allow my thoughts to fix
directly upon it. I must look aside lest I be overwhelmed. But I must
speak of him who hath done wonderful things for me, and kept me in a
perfect calm. Verily, light is sown for the upright, and gladness for
the true of heart. O when shall I conceive aright of glory! I cannot
order my speech now, because of darkness! I long to behold it, but I
will wait till he comes. I have experienced much of his goodness since
I lay on this bed. I have found that tribulation worketh experience,
and experience patience, and patience hope. And I have found the love
of God shed abroad in my soul.” Then turning to his wife, he said, “My
dear, encourage yourself in the hope, that under the conduct of the
same captain of salvation, you will come thither also. Cast yourself
and your family upon the Lord. Encourage yourself; God liveth. Blessed
be my Redeemer, the rock of my salvation!”
*Then he said, “Who is like unto him? O, what has he allowed me this
night! I know now the meaning of that, Whatsoever ye shall ask in my
name, ye shall receive it. The Lord hath even allowed me to be very
minute in every circumstance. Many a day have I feared, how I should
get through the valley of the shadow of death: but now I fear not.
Blessed be God, who, since I laid down here, hath carried on a work of
sanctification far in my soul, that makes me meet for heaven! Young as
I am, I die old and satisfied with days. The child is going to die an
hundred years old. I am like a shock of corn, fully ripe. But, O, I
have been under a bright sun, in a day when the sun of righteousness
shone, and I have had glorious showers.”
After a little silence he said, “I have slept, and am refreshed. And
now what shall I say? I can say no more to commend the Lord; not for
want of matter, but of words. Well, Sirs, you’ll meet with difficulties;
but this may encourage you, you see God owns his servants own him, and
despise what his enemies can do against them?――God has kept my judgment
for the best piece of work I ever had. O what of God do I see! I never
saw any thing like it. The beginning and end of religion are wonderful
sweet.” One said, “God’s dealing with you has been very uncommon.”
He answered, “Very uncommon indeed, if you knew all that I know. But
therein is the excellency of his power seen, in that he maketh the weak
strong.”
A while after he said to those about him, “O this is the most
honourable pulpit I was ever in! I am preaching the same Christ,
the same holiness, the same happiness I did before. I have much
satisfaction in that. I am not ashamed of the gospel I have preached.
I was never ashamed of it in all my days; and I am not ashamed of it
at the last. Here am I, a weak man, in the hand of the king of terrors,
rejoicing in hope of the glory that shall be revealed; and that by
the death and resurrection of a despised Christ. When the beginning of
this trouble was upon me, I aim’d (as my strength would allow) at that,
_shew me some token for good_; and indeed I think, God hath shewed me a
token for good.”
Then perceiving his spirits faint, he said, “Come Lord Jesus, receive
my spirit, fluttering within my breast like a bird to be out of a
snare.――When shall I hear him say, The winter is past; arise my love
and come away? Come and take me by the hand, That I stumble not in the
dark valley of death!”
Then he desired a minister to pray; and after prayer said, “Lord, I
wait for thy salvation. I wait as the watchman watcheth for the morning.
I am weary with delays! O why are his chariot wheels so long a coming!
I am sick of love. I am faint with delay!”
Then he said, “draw the curtains about me, and let me see what he has a
mind to do with me:” And after a while, “Whence is this to me? There is
a strange change within this half hour. Ah, I am like to be shipwrecked
to health again? O what sort of providence is this? I was in hopes to
have been at my journey’s end: and now I am detained by a cross wind.
I desire to be patient under his hand; but he must open my heart to
glorify him. O pray for me; pray for me; that none who fear him may be
ashamed on my account.”
To the apothecary he said, “I thought to have been away, but I am come
back again. I was glad to be gone; yet I am not wearied. He has not
allowed a fretting thought. My pain is great; but I am enabled to bear
it. O I am a monument of the power of God. My great desire has been
these many years, to suffer for the truth of our religion. And now God
has given me the greatest honour to be a living witness to it. I am a
monument that we have not followed cunningly devised fables. I shall
be at heaven shortly, by the word of my testimony, and the blood of
the Lamb.” Then to a citizen he said, “There are but few names in this
place, that set their faces heavenward. But be you encouraged to go
on: you have been a kind neighbour; the Lord bless you and your family.
They that are planted in the house of the Lord, shall flourish in the
courts of our God. Here is an evidence of it. Last winter I thought I
was going to be cast out as a withered branch, and now the dead stock
that was cut has budded again, and grown a tall cedar in _Lebanon_.”
Then he said to the ministers, “I desire to hear the word read, the
word preached. Many times, when I thought on the worthies of old, I
said I was born out of due time: but now I think I am born in due time;
for I shall see Jesus! Jesus that delivers from the wrath to come. I
shall see _Elijah_ and _Moses_, the great old testament prophets. I
shall see the two great mediators, the type and the antitype. The three
disciples got a glorious sight of Christ in his transfiguration, to
confirm their faith against the objections of the unbelieving. Was he
despised as a mere man and his godhead disowned? Lo, here he appears
in divine majesty and glory! Did they say he was against the law? Lo,
here _Moses_, by whom the law was given, adoring him. Did they say,
he was not the Messiah foretold by the prophets? Lo, here _Elijah_ the
most zealous of them, owning and honouring him. Was he reproached as
a deceiver of the people? Lo, the voice from heaven saith, This is my
beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased: hear ye him. Yet this sight
was of short continuance. But in heaven we shall have an abiding sight.
We shall then behold his glory; and we shall be like unto him: for we
shall see him as he is.――
“O! I am full of matter! I know not where to begin or end. The Spirit
of the Lord, hath been mighty with me! O, the book of God is a strange
book! ’Tis written within and without. I never studied it to the half
of what I should: but now God hath given me much of it together.――Never
was I more uneasy in my life: and yet I was never more easy. All my
bones are ready to break; my hand is a burden to me; and yet all is
easy!”
*Then to his wife, he said, “O my sweet bird, are you there? I am no
more yours. I am the Lord’s. I remember on the day I took you by the
hand, I thought on parting with you. But I knew not how to get my heart
off of you again: yet now I have got it done. Will you not give me to
the Lord, my dear?” Then seeing her very sad, he said, “My dear, do not
weep: you should rather rejoice: rejoice with me, and let us exalt his
name together. I shall be in the same family with you: but you must
stay a little behind and take care of God’s children.”
*When wakened out of sleep, he said, “I am now hand in hand, grappling
with my last enemy: and I find, he is a conquerable enemy; Yea, I
am more than conqueror.” One said, “A strange champion indeed!” He
answered, “I? Not I, but the grace of God that is in me. By the grace
of God I am what I am; and the God of peace hath bruised Satan under
my feet. I have often wondered how the martyrs could clap their hands
in the fire: I do not wonder at it now. I could clap my hands, though
you held burning candles to them, and think it no hardship, though
the flames were going about them. And yet, were the Lord withdrawn,
I should cry and not be able to bear it, if you but touched my foot.”
_Sunday, September 21._ About three in the morning he said, “And is
it the sabbath then? This is the best sabbath I ever had. On a sabbath
night my _George_ went to his rest: I bestowed him on God: blessed
be his name; and he made me content. I would have given him all my
children that way; and I hope it shall be so: blessed be his name!”
*After a little pause he said, “Shall I forget _Sion_? Then let my
right-hand forget her cunning. O, to have God returning to his church,
and his work going on in the world! If every drop of my blood, every
atom of my body, every hair of my head, were men, they should all go
to the fire, to have this going on.”
*After that he said, “I could not believe that I could have borne, and
borne chearfully this rod so long. This is a miracle, pain without pain.
Blessed be God that ever I was born. I have a father, a mother, and ten
brethren and sisters in heaven, and I shall be the eleventh. O blessed
be the day that ever I was born! O if I were where he is! And yet for
all this, God’s withdrawing from me, would make me as weak as water.
All which I enjoy, though it be miracle upon miracle, would not make
me stand without new supplies from God. The thing I rejoice in is,
that God is altogether full, and that in Jesus Christ there is all the
fulness of the Godhead.”
Then to his wife he said, “O wait upon him; for he is a good God to all
that serve him. He never takes any thing from them, but he gives them
as good or better back again. My dear, we have had many a sweet day
together: we must part for a while; but we shall meet again, and shall
have one work, the praises of God, and the praises of the Lamb!”
*Then to some present he said, “Do you think that he will come and
receive the prisoner of hope to day? Whether he do it or no, he is
holy and righteous; yet, I confess, I long for it. I do not tire. But
the hireling longs for his wages. If in his adorable wisdom he try
me further, holy and reverend is his name; he is not wanting to me. I
desire only grace to be faithful unto death, until I come to the land
of praises, to thy gates, O _Jerusalem_, to give thanks to the name of
the God of _Jacob_.”
Then a minister asking, if he should pray? He answered, “Yea, yea, pray
for me.” And after prayer he said, “This night my skin has burned, my
heart has panted, my body has been bruised, and there is a sore upon
me, that is racking my spirit: and yet I cannot say, but the Lord still
holds me in health in the midst of all. If he should please to continue
me years in this case, I have no reason to complain.” One said, “No
hypocrite is able, in such a condition, to counterfeit such language.”
He answered, “’Tis as great a wonder to me, as to any about me. Brother,
I know not whether I may desire you to beg of the Lord, with respect
to this poor body to shorten my trial, if it be his will: the hireling
longs for his wages; but I have reason to do it with submission.
“I long for a deliverance from the body. But if God lengthen my trouble,
then why not! Righteous is his name. I know not what alteration may
be. I confess, I am like a bird on the wing: and I would fain be at
_Immanuel_’s land, where the tree of life is.
*“Well, all this is encouragement to you, to acquaint yourselves with
God. All these soft cloaths are like sackcloth to me; and yet I have
perfect ease of spirit. My breast and my stomach are drawn all together,
as it were with cords; and yet the mercy of God keeps me composed.
What is this? I could scarce have believed, even tho’ I had been told,
that I could have kept in the right exercise of my judgment, under this
racking pain. Whatever come of it, this is a demonstration that there
is a reality in religion; and I rejoice in this, that God hath honoured
a sinful worm, so as to be a demonstration of his grace. My dear
friends, while I live, I must preach the gospel. He has given me awhile
yet here, which ought to be reckoned precious, and so long as it lasts,
my work is still to commend him. The word speaks, providence speaks
in me; despise not the gospel under this new discovery. I am a sinner;
shame belongs to me: worthy is the Lamb to receive glory.”
To two ministers who stayed with him while the rest went to church, he
said, “If my head would bear it, I would fain hear singing. I do not
find any change, and God has in some measure taken away my inclination
to limit him, as to the hour.” He then joined in singing the latter
part of the 84th psalm; and after singing said, *“I always had a
mistuned voice, and which is worse, a mistuned heart: but when I
join the temple service above, there shall not be one string of the
affections out of tune.”
To some that came from church he said, “You have been in the assembly
of God’s people, wherein communion with the Father and Son may be
attained. These enjoyments are some of the most valuable to be had
here, and the way to the rest which remaineth for the people of God. O
how amiable are thy tabernacles even here! But how much more so above,
where there is the eagle’s eye, that can see the glorious light, even
the light of the Lord!”
*Then to the ministers he said, “When this trouble began, I expected no
smile from God. I thought if I could steal away, creeping with terrors,
to be plunged into eternity with a peradventure, it was fair. But he
hath taken me out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock. I am
nothing, less than nothing, a vile sinner; but mercy does all.”
In the night he caused the songs of degrees to be read, and said,
“These psalms are so called (say some) because they were sung on the
steps of the stairs that led up to the temple. And what fitter to be
read to a poor sinner, that aims at climbing up the hill of God, where
the great temple of God is?”
*8. _Monday, September 22._ At half an hour past two, he asked what
hour it was, and said, “Early in the morning my friends shall be
acquainted; for I expect this cough will hasten my deliverance. Well,
well; I shall get out of the dark cloud; within a little I shall be
in _Abraham_’s bosom; yes, in his, who carries the lambs in his bosom:
and I am sure of goodness and mercy to follow me. O how good is he to a
poor worm! Let us exalt his name together. It is the constant employ of
all above, day and night. They see and sing; they have a clear vision.
O when shall I see his face, who is fairer than the sons of men! Yea,
who is brighter than the sun in his strength!”
To a minister he said, “Could I have believed (but I am an unbeliever)
that I could have had this pleasure in this condition? Once or twice
Satan was assaulting my faith. I waked in a sort of carnal frame, and
I thought I had lost my jewel; but now he will stand by me to the end.
*What shall I render to him? My bones are riving through my skin; and
yet all my bones are praising him.”
After struggling with a defluction in his throat, he said: “This is a
messenger from God to hasten me home. The other day I would have gone
away without this glorious evidence of the grace of God. But this is
more for my advantage, that I am thus tried and comforted. I said, Why
are his chariot wheels so long a coming? But I will not say so any more.
Yet a little while, and he that shall come, will come, and will not
tarry.”
Then he said, “If I should say that I would speak no more in the
name of the Lord, it would be like a fire within my breast.” And some
looking at him as in amaze, he said, “Why look ye stedfastly on me, as
though by my might or power I were so? Not I, but the grace of God in
me. ’Tis the Spirit of God that supports me.”
To his wife he said, “Be not discouraged, my dear, at the unavoidable
consequences of nature. ’Tis an evidence that there is but a very
little time more, and death will be swallowed up in victory: the
body will be shaken in pieces, and yet, blessed be God, my head is
as composed as it was before my sickness.”
*Then to some present he said, “My moisture is much exhausted this
night, but the dew lies all night on my branches, the dew that waits
not for man, nor tarries for the sons of men. O what cannot grace do?
How have I formerly repined at the hundredth part of this trouble! O
study the power of religion! ’Tis the power of religion, and not the
name, will give the comfort I find. I have peace in the midst of pain.
And, O how much of that I have had for a time past! My peace has been
like a river, not a discomposed thought. There have been some little
suggestions, when my enemies joined in a league together, and made
their great assault upon me. I had then one assault, and I was like to
fall. But since the Lord rebuked them, there is not a discomposed
thought, but all is calm.”
To a gentlewoman he said, “You are come to see your old, dying friend;
a wonder indeed, but a wonder of mercy. I am preaching still, and I
would be so content to do, till these flesh and bones were wasted to
nothing. *The God of glory appeared to me, and the first sight I had
of him was such, as won my heart to him, so as it was ♦never loosed.
Many wandrings I have had, but I was never myself, till I went back
to my center again.” He then rattled a little in his throat, and said,
“This may be irksome to you; but every messenger of death is pleasant
to me, and I am only detained here, that I may trumpet forth his praise
a little longer.”
♦ “ver” replaced with “never”
*About noon he said, “I was just thinking on the pleasant spot of earth
I shall get to lie in, beside Mr. _Rutherford_, Mr. _Forrester_, and
Mr. _Anderson_. I shall come in as the little one among them, and I
shall get my pleasant _George_ in my hand; and O, we shall be a knot of
bonny dust.” Then he said, “It will not be all my sore bones, that will
make me weary yet (as long as God gives me judgment to conceive, and a
tongue to speak) to preach his gospel.”
Then with the utmost warmth he broke out, “Strange, this body is
sinking into corruption, and yet my intellectuals are so lively, that
I cannot say there is the least alteration, the least decay of judgment
or memory. Such vigorous actings of my spirit toward God, and things
that are not seen! But not unto us; not unto us; which I must have
still on my heart, lest cursed self steal the glory from God!”
Some time after he said, “Good is the will of the Lord. Every one of
these throws is good; and I must not want one of them: I must not fly
from my post, but stand as a centinel, for this is my particular work.
This would be hard work without Christ: but ’tis easy with him who is
the captain of my salvation.”
He mentioned the pain in his head, but said, “In a battle there must be
blood and dust. Every battle of the warrior is with confused noise, and
garments rolled in blood. ’Tis meet I should be so hard put to it, that
I may know to whom I owe my strength. O that I were at the throne above,
that my glimmering light were taken away, that this unsteady faith
might terminate in vision!”
Then he said, “If I am able, though I cannot speak, I’ll shew you a
sign of triumph, when I am near glory!”
To his wife he said, “My dear be not discouraged, though I should go
away in a fainting fit. The Lord’s way is the best way. I am composed.
Though my body be vexed, my spirit is untouched.”
*One said, “Now you are putting your seal to that truth, that godliness
is great gain. And I hope you are encouraging yourself in the Lord.” As
a sign of it, he lifted up his hands and clapped them. And in a little
time, about seven in the morning, he went to the land, where the weary
are at rest.
An EXTRACT of the LIFE of
Monsieur DE RENTY,
A late NOBLEMAN of FRANCE.
CHAPTER I.
_Of his birth, marriage, and general way of life._
1. MR. _De Renty_ descended from one of the most noble houses of
_Artois_. He was the only son of _Charles De Renty_, and was born
in the year 1611, at _Beny_ in _Low Normandy_. There he was brought
up till six or seven years of age, and then by his mother carried
to _Paris_, where he lived with her about two years, till he was put
into the college of _Navarre_; whence he was sent to _Caen_, till at
seventeen he was removed to an academy, or school of genteel exercises
at _Paris_. He was soon accomplished in all the exercises there taught:
But what then pleased him most was, the mathematics. For these he
slighted all sorts of diversions, till he understood them perfectly,
and composed some books therein.
2. About this time a stationer whom he used, presented him with _Kempis
of the imitation of_ Christ; and some time after pressed him to read it,
which he had no sooner done, than he felt new thoughts and affections,
and resolved seriously to pursue the one thing needful, the working out
his salvation. And ever after he so esteemed that book, that he always
carried it about him, and made use of it on all occasions.
3. At the age of twenty-two, he married _Elizabeth de Balsac_, daughter
of the Count of _Graville_, by whom he had five children, four of which
(two sons and two daughters) survived him.
4. Having lived to the age of twenty-seven years, it pleased God to
touch his heart more closely; and this time he marked as the beginning
of his entire change, and perfect consecration to God’s service: in
order whereto, he was well convinced of the necessity of a good guide;
and God provided him one, such as his need required, a person of deep
learning, of great piety, and well-experienced in the directions of
souls, who had the conduct of him for twelve years. By his advice
he withdrew altogether from court, he renounced all visits of pure
compliment, and all unnecessary employments to give himself up to those
which might glorify God, and help his neighbour.
5. Every day before dinner, and again in the evening, he made an
exact search into his smallest faults. He communicated three or four
times a week, having ever an incredible esteem of the holy Eucharist,
blessing and praising God for its institution, and exciting all men to
do the same. He was used to say, “That the great design of God in the
incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of his Son, was to convey
to us his Spirit, to be unto us life eternal. And in order to cause us
to die to ourselves, and live thereby, he gave him to us in this holy
sacrament, and with him all the blessings of grace, to dispose us for
those of glory.”
6. One day in a week he visited the poor sick people of the great
hospital _de Dieu_: another those of his own parish; a third the
prisoners; and in the rest he used to meet at assemblies of piety.
He assembled his own family every evening to prayers, and discoursed
to them every _Saturday_ on the gospel for the next day. And of his
children he took more special care, to engrave deeply in them the fear
of God, and to convince them that the customs and maxims of the world
were utterly irreconcilable to the gospel of Christ.
7. The order he kept in his journies was this: in the morning, before
setting out, they joined in prayer; after setting out, the first thing
done was, the saying the _itinerarium_; next was, the ♦singing the
_litanies of our Lord_; then followed some meditation, and after that a
part of the _divine office_. This being done he entertained the company
with some good discourse. Beholding the spacious extent of the country,
he would speak of the immensity of God. Upon the presenting of any
beautiful object, he would discourse of the beauty of God, and in so
lively a manner as to touch the very heart. Approaching near the place
where they were to dine, he began his self-examination: and being come
thither, as soon as out of his coach, he went to the church, and next,
if there were any in the place, to the hospital. Being at his inn, the
first thing he did in his chamber was, to cast himself on his knees,
and to pray with great affection for all persons that entered that
place, and for pardon of all disorders that had been there committed.
If he saw any thing offensive written on the walls or chimneys, he
defaced it, and in the place wrote something of instruction. And
always before his departure he endeavoured to give some good advice
to the servants of the house, or to such poor as he could meet with,
that so he might not pass through any place without doing some good
there. After dinner, when in his coach again, he took a little time
for recollection, then sung the _Vespers_; which done, he wished the
company to use some useful conversation. About four they sung the
evening psalms; afterward he applied himself to mental prayer; and
being come to his inn, his exercises were the same with those of the
morning.
♦ “signing” replaced with “singing”
*8. A fuller account of his general way of life he writ to his second
director, as follows:
“I have delayed some days after the command I had, to set down the
employing of my time, for the better discovering of some things
therein; but I find nothing there of strict order because all consists
in following the order of God, which causes in a manner continually
different things, though all upon the same foundation.
“For my outward behaviour, I usually rise at five (that is, after
part of the night spent in prayer.) At my awakening, I consider myself
as nothing, before the majesty of God. I unite me to his Son and
Spirit. Being risen, I cast myself down, and adore the blessing of
the incarnation, which gives us access to God; and deliver up myself
to the Holy Jesus, to be entered into his Spirit.
“Being cloathed, I go into the chapel, where I cast myself down, and
adore God, abasing me before him, and making me the most little, most
naked, most empty of myself that I can; and I hold me there by faith,
having recourse to his Son and to his Holy Spirit, that whatsoever is
his pleasure may be done by me.
“Between six and seven I read two chapters of the New Testament
bare-headed and on my knees. I then give place to my affairs; but if
there be no business urgent, I prostrate myself before God till I go
to church. There I stay till half an hour past eleven, except when we
dine some poor people, then I return at eleven. Before dinner I examine
myself, and use some prayers for the Church, and for the propagation
of the faith. I dine at twelve, and in the while have something read.
Half an hour past twelve I spend an hour with them that have business
with me. Then I go out whither the order of God shall direct. Some days
are assigned for certain exercises; others are not. But be it as it
will, I endeavour to spend about evening an hour in devotion. About
seven, after I have used some prayers, we go to supper. After supper
I instruct my children. At nine are family prayers, after which I
meditate till ten; and then going to my chamber, and recommending
myself to my God, after some short prayers, I endeavour to repose.
*“As to the order of my interior, I have not (as I may say) any; for
since I left my _Breviary_, all my forms have left me; and now instead
of serving me as means to go to God, they would only be hindrances. I
bear in me ordinarily an experimental verity, and a plenitude of the
♦presence of the most Holy Trinity, which elevates me to a simple view
of God; and with that I do all that his providence enjoins me, not
regarding any thing for their greatness or littleness, but only the
order of God, and the glory they may render him.
♦ “pesence” replaced with “presence”
“For the things done in community, I often cannot rest there: I perform
indeed the exterior for the keeping of order; but follow always my
interior, because when a man hath God, there is no need to search for
him elsewhere. And when he holds us in one manner, it is not for us to
take hold of him in another, and the soul knows well what unites it and
what multiplies and directs it.
“For the interior therefore, I follow his attractive; and for the
exterior I see the divine will, which I follow, with the discernment
of his spirit, in all simplicity; and so I possess by his grace, in
all things, silence of spirit, a profound reverence, and solid peace. I
communicate almost every day, perceiving myself strongly drawn thereto.
*I continually give up myself to God through Jesus Christ, worshipping
him in spirit and in truth, loving him with all my heart, with all my
soul, with all my mind, and with all my strength, and seeing in all
things the conduct of God, and adorning and following it. And this only
abiding in my soul, all things else are defaced and blotted out. I have
nothing of sensible in me, unless now and then some transitory touches:
But, if any dare to say it, when I sound my will, I find it so quick
and flaming, that it would devour me, if the same Lord who animates
it (though unworthy) did not restrain it. I enter into a heat and
into fire, and even to my fingers ends, feel that all within me speaks
for its God, and stretcheth itself forth in length and breadth in his
immensity, that it may there dissolve and there lose itself to glorify
him.”
CHAPTER II.
_His Humility._
1. ST. _Austin_ well observes, That poverty of spirit is nothing else
but humility: The truly humble knowing themselves to be nothing of
themselves but sin and misery, to have nothing, as being at best but
manifold receivers of the grace of God; to be able to do nothing,
having no power of themselves even to think a good thought, and to
deserve nothing but shame and contempt, but misery and punishment. And
they are willing, yea desirous, that all others should think of them as
they do of themselves.
2. M. _de Renty_ being well convinc’d that this is the foundation of
all virtue, and that it was the proper virtue of Jesus Christ, whom he
had proposed to himself as his pattern in all things, embraced it with
his whole affection, gave himself up to it with all his force, and
practised it in its utmost latitude.
3. He had so low an opinion of himself, as it would be a difficult
thing to express. The greatness of God, whenever he considered it,
humbled him to an immeasurable depth; “A mote, said he, in the sun is
very little, but I am far less in the presence of God, I am nothing.”
But correcting himself, he added, “Alas I am too much; I am a sinner,
an anathema through my crimes.” To the same person he wrote, “Methinks
I break myself in pieces before God: that I am spoken of, that I have
so much as a name is a strange thing.” I have seen him very often (says
one that knew him well) humble himself, as it were to the centre of the
earth, while he spoke to me of God; saying, “It was not for such a one
as him to speak of him, but that he ought rather to contain himself in
silence.”
*4. This exceeding low opinion he had of himself, made him more than
once say, with tears in his eyes, “That he was much astonished at
the goodness of men in suffering of him, and that he could not enough
wonder, why every where they threw not dirt at him, and that all the
creatures did not bandy against him.” And he was persuaded, it was
much boldness in him to speak, and that men shewed great patience in
enduring his conversation.
5. Nor was there any thing which did not serve to increase his humility.
He abased himself much in the consideration of the weakness of our
nature, of which as he exprest it, “It is important that a man have
experience, that he neither forget himself, nor the place he ought
to hold: that no flesh may glory in his sight; that being abased and
rendered as a thing that is not at all, Jesus Christ may be in him, the
life of grace and holiness, waiting for the time of our redemption.”
6. But much was he humbled by the consideration of his past sins; In
one of his letters to his director, he writes thus, “my faults are as
one great heap, which I feel in myself, obstructing the light from God.
I am strangely remiss and ungrateful, I find much in myself to confound
and humble me.” In another, “I am sensible of my fault, in mentioning,
that I had placed a servant in such a family. I had a motion within
me, not to have spoken it; and yet it escaped from me: of which I am
exceeding sensible. I should have been more faithful to the Spirit
of God.” And in another, “I am as blind (or rather more) in seeing my
faults as in other things. Only in general, I have a deep sense of my
misery: And I can say, I am not ignorant of my unworthiness, and the
deplorable corruption sin hath wrought in me. But lately I mentioned
the faults of a certain person to another that knew of them before,
to make him understand that he was in a better condition. But my
conscience reproached me, that I might have done this without: and I
confess I meddled too much in that affair. In sum, I am a straggler
from God, and a ground over run with thorns.”
7. He drew yet further matter of humiliation from his rank and
condition, and the secular advantages which it gave him. He not only
despised, but was ashamed of them; often groaning before the majesty
of God, and saying, “He was in the lowest condition according to the
Spirit of Jesus Christ, and that he had great confusion to see himself
in that estate.” Hence it was, that he solemnly renounced his nobility,
and gave it into the hands of our Lord; that he did not love even for
any one to call him _Monsieur_, and that he wholly declined the title
of Marquiss (which was proper to his house) and suffered only that of
Baron of _Renty_.
8. Even the gifts and graces of God made him more humble; thus
producing their true effect, which is, to abase and elevate the soul
both together, to raise it to God, and abase it to itself. In whatever
good was done by him he assumed no share at all, but referred all to
God the true source. And so in the management of all those talents, he
had always his hands clean, without touching what appertaineth to God.
Nor would he therefore that any one should consider him in what he said
or did, but regard God alone therein. And to one who much desired a
visit from him, he wrote thus, “I cannot bear the account you make of
my visits and society. Let us look much upon God; let us bind ourselves
strictly to Jesus Christ, that we may learn of him fully to renounce
ourselves. O, my God, when will it be that we shall eye ourselves no
more, when we shall speak no more of ourselves, and when all vanity
shall be destroyed!”
9. He likewise esteemed himself most unworthy of any of the grace or
favours of God. Of which he says to a friend, “The gifts of God are
sometimes so great, that they put us beyond ourselves. As among men
if a poor man receives a gift from a prince, according to the grandeur
of his own power, he is utterly overwhelmed, and can find no words to
express his acknowledgment: So God gives blessings that go beyond our
expectations or capacities, and which make us see how unworthy we are,
without daring to lift up our eyes; so doth their brightness dazzle,
and their greatness astonish us.”
10. The same opinion which he had of himself he was willing, yea
desirous that others likewise should have of him. “If I were to wish
any thing, said he, it should be, to be much humbled, and to be treated
as an off-scouring by men.” And hence he received contempt, when it
came, not with patience only, but with joy: of which he gave an evident
proof in his first journey to _Dijon_, whence he thus wrote to his
director;
“The reports here spread concerning me are, that I have nothing but
artifice and shews of devotion; and that I kept private, out of fear
by coming abroad of discovering what I was. Most, I find, even of those
from whom I expected quite the contrary, have sollicited against me.
And hereby God hath shewn me many favours. I have been with them, and
received humiliation with great joy. I have been very wary of opening
myself in any thing that might recommend me to them. I have only done
in my business what truth required; and for any thing else, I have made
it matter of confusion, as I ought. I shall be here, I believe as one
excommunicate, as the scape-goat of the old law, driven out into the
wilderness for my enormous sins. I desire only to love God, and condemn
myself.”
11. Nor was it only in his words but in his actions also, that the
humility of his heart appeared. Since his entire dedication of himself
to God, he would not suffer a cushion to be carried to church for him;
but to be there hid and disregarded, he often mingled himself among
mechanics and mean persons. He kept himself always as much as he could
at the lower end of the church; and frequently, if the door was shut,
said his prayers on the outside of it, that he “might not, as he said,
put any to the trouble of opening it to a poor sinner.”
*12. During the war at _Paris_, he went himself to buy bread for the
poor, and carried through the streets as much as his strength would
permit. At the same time offering to take into his care the church
plate of a monastery, he pressed them to let him carry it to his
lodging, (which was two miles thence) and on foot as he was, a very
large and weighty piece. And being desired that when he did them the
favour to visit them again, he would come in his coach, by reason of
the distance; he answered, “he did not love to make use of a coach,
he must endeavour to make himself in every thing very little.” He went
therefore thither on foot, and returned at five or six, in the shortest
days, sometimes in thawing weather. And being told of the pains he took,
he replied, “Our Lord took pains in a far other manner.”
13. When he was assisting with his own hand in the repairing of one of
his houses, he thus expressed himself:
“Blessed for ever be our great God, by Jesus Christ! I believe I ought
to labour in the lowest employments; and the time I spend therein, I
count very dear, regarding it as ordered by God. What makes me the more
to know it is his order, is this; that from time to time I feel more of
retribution from him in one instant, than the patience and humiliation
of a sinner could merit in all his life. He so opens himself to me,
that I am quite mollified, and melted into tears. My eyes are so full
of them, that often I have much ado to keep them in, pierced as I am
with love, with reverence, and with acknowledgment of his goodness
manifested by his enlightning presence, and of his inexplicable conduct.
I see, we are not, by a spirit of pride, under pretence of the glory
of God, to dispense with ourselves from labouring in things mean and
painful. It was a work very gross and mean for Jesus Christ to converse
with men, who had more of rudeness than these stones I deal with. O
that I may obtain a part in his obedience, and submission to the orders
of God his Father.”
14. Being one day to go to a person of great quality, in a business
that much concerned the glory of God, he would not use his coach, tho’
he was to traverse in a manner all _Paris_, and it poured down rain.
One moved, that at least his footman might carry a cloak, which he
might take when he came thither. But he yielded not. Only he consented
to throw the cloak over him: and in the nobleman’s house he laid aside
the wet cloak, and appeared in the other ordinary one of his own.
15. Behold another effect of his humility, of which he writ to his
director, _December 26, 1646_.
“The other day my Lord Chancellor’s lady sent me a packet of letters,
in which were some from the king, wherein I was made counsellor of
state. I sent her word, that I received what had the mark of the king
with all respect. But I most humbly begged she would be pleased to take
it in good part, if I did not accept those letters, but desired that
the business might sleep without noise. My disposition towards affairs
of this nature is, to have nothing at all to do with them. If they come
upon me perforce, without my seeking, our Lord will give me strength to
bear them.”
16. To the same person on another occasion, he wrote as follows:
“Walking one day through the streets of _Paris_, in a mean dress, I
deeply reflected on that of the apostle, _We are become as the filth
and off-scowering of the world_. I considered how much neatness and new
things, even in the most trifling instances, do hurt (if one take not
good heed) the simplicity and lowliness of a Christian spirit. And I
saw it was a great temptation for any, to think to preserve his outward
grandeur, in hopes thereby to have more weight and authority for the
service of God. This is a pretence, indeed, that the infirmity of most
Christians makes use of in the beginning: but experience draws them at
last to Jesus Christ, who was made the lowest of men.”
17. A further proof of his humility, was his carriage to the director.
He did nothing that concerned himself, without his conduct: to him he
proposed whatever he designed, either by speaking or writing, clearly
and punctually, desiring “his advice, his pleasure, and blessing upon
it;” and that with the utmost respect and submission: and without reply
or disputing, he simply and exactly followed his order. His director
having written to him, he answered in these terms; “I beseech you to
believe, that although I am most imperfect and a great sinner, yet if
you do me the favour to send me a word of what you know to be necessary
for me, I hope with God’s help to profit thereby. I pant not after
any thing but to find God and Jesus Christ, in simplicity and truth.
I pretend to nothing in this world but this; and beside this I desire
nothing.”
18. The last effect of his humility we shall mention, was his
extreme contempt of the world. He despised all which it could give or
promise; all its goods, pleasures, honours, dignities; counted all its
allurements as dung and dross, trampled under foot all its glories. He
beheld for this end our Lord for his pattern, who, from his very first
entrance into it, made an open profession of an absolute contempt of
it, “_Because he was not of the world_.”
*19. To animate a lady with the same spirit, he wrote to her thus:
“I wonder how a thing so little as man, drawn out of nothing in his
original, infected with his first parent’s sin, and the addition of
his own: when he is raised to so high a degree of honour, as to be one
with Christ the Son of God; can continue to esteem the world, or make
any account of its vanities! Shall the things of the earth waste the
little time we have to secure the treasures of heaven; things that will
all pass away like a dream: as we see our fathers are gone already,
and there is no more remembrance of them: their joys and griefs, their
pleasures and pains, are they not all vanished away? And are we not
sure they were out of their senses, if they considered any thing but
God in their ways? The same will befall us: Every thing else will pass
away, and God alone will abide.”
*The same lady, in another letter, he encourages thus: “Courage, all is
well! We must die to the world, and search out the hindrances it brings
to our perfection. We must live in the world as not living there;
possess it, as not possessing it. Let us drive out of our minds the
affection to our fine houses; let us ruin the delights of our gardens;
let us burn our groves; let us banish these vain images which we have
of our children; approving in them what we condemn in ourselves, the
show and glitter of the world.”
*I know there is a difference of conditions; but all ought to
reject those intailments on noble blood, (as men account them) those
principles of aspiring to the highest, and of bearing nothing. Let us
take from them this vanity of mind, this stateliness of behaviour. Let
us arm them against the pernicious examples of those grandees in story,
whose punishments are as eminent in hell, as their presumption was upon
earth.
*“My design is not, that you should demolish your walk, or let your
gardens run into a wilderness. The ruins I speak of must be made in
our own minds, not executed on things insensible. When I say, we must
set all on fire, my thoughts were, to follow that admirable spirit
of the apostle, who would that we have poverty amidst our riches, and
divestment in the midst of our possessions: he means, that our spirit
be thoroughly purified and separated from all creatures; because a
Christian does himself great wrong, if he entertains in his heart any
other inclinations than those of Jesus Christ, who saw all the world
without destroying it, but withal without cleaving to it.”
20. It is to bring us to this spirit, that God permits us to meet so
many pains and troubles in the world; as when a man sets thorns in a
way, to make men take another. “God has his ends, says M. _De Renty_,
in all these contrarieties, _viz._ that those who are his, should be
yet more his, and despise more and more all that is in the world. By
these the confusion and vanity of the world are made known to them that
are not of it; who being in the spirit of death, wait for nothing more
there but death; bringing forth, in the mean while, the fruits of life
eternal.”
CHAPTER III.
_His self-denial and mortification._
1. AS it is absolutely necessary for every soldier of Christ, who would
not _so fight as one that beateth the air, to keep the body under, and
bring it into subjection_; M. _de Renty_ vigorously applied himself to
this work. He made but one meal a day for several years; till he was
injoined to take more nourishment, to be the better able to undergo the
great labours he undertook for his neighbour. He nevertheless eat but
little, and always of the worst. A person who observed him at dinner
one day, took notice, all he eat was some pears only, and that with
so great seriousness and recollection, that it was easy to discern his
mind was on God, and not upon his meat.
*2. When one of his friends entertained him one day at _Caen_, he was
much grieved (as he afterwards declared) that Christians should be
feasters; adding, _It was a torment to be where there was so much
superfluity_. Hereon his friends took no more thought about his diet,
knowing his best entertainment was the meanest fare, and that they
could not oblige him more, than by leaving him to his liberty. And
often at _Paris_, when he was so far from home, that he could not
return to dinner, he would step into a baker’s shop, and after a piece
of bread and a draught of water, chearfully go on with his business.
3. Nor did he deny himself only with regard to his taste, but to all
his other senses also. When he went into the country, and came in the
evening to his inn, after having dismissed his servants, he either
passed the night in a chair, or lay down in his cloaths and boots,
which was his custom till death. And when at _Amiens_, a lady, in
honour of his virtue and quality, had prepared him a rich bed in a
stately chamber, he made no use of it, but laid him down upon a bench,
and there slept till morning.
4. Being come to ♦_Pontois_ in winter, and lodging at the _Carmelite
Nuns_, he told them not to make a fire, or prepare a bed. He then went
to visit the prisoners (which he never forgot) and at his return, about
nine in the evening, finding them going to prayers, without taking any
thing to eat, he went into the church with them, where he continued
till eleven. And indeed at every time and every place, on every
occasion, even in the slightest and meanest things, he kept a watchful
eye over himself, that he might in no instance fulfil the desires of
the flesh, but daily inure himself to endure hardship.
♦ “Pointois” replaced with “Pontois”
*5. A short description of his mortification, or deadness to the world,
we have in his own words. “Since the time I gave up my liberty to God,
I was given to understand, to what a state the soul is brought, which
is capable of union with him. I saw my soul reduced into a small point,
contracted and shrunk up to nothing. At the same time I beheld myself
as encompassed with whatsoever the world loves, and as it were, a hand
removing all this far from me, and plunging it into the ocean. First,
I saw removed all outward things, kingdoms, great offices, stately
buildings, rich and elegant furniture, gold and silver, recreations,
pleasures: all which hinder the soul in her way to God, of which
therefore it is his pleasure she be divested, that she may arrive
at that death which will bring her into the possession of real life.
Secondly, all inward things, which are of a more delicate and precious
nature, as learning, reason, strength of memory and understanding; to
which likewise we are in a manner dead, if we are alive to God. And I
perceived that we must come like little infants, simple and innocent,
separated not only from evil, but even from our ordinary manner
of doing what is good. We are to undertake what things the divine
providence presents to us, by making our way by God to them, rather
than by them to God. A truly mortified soul sees nothing but God: not
so much (if I may so speak) as the things she does, of which nothing
stays in her, neither choice, nor joy, nor sorrow, for their greatness,
or for their littleness, for good or bad success; but only the good
pleasure and order of God, which ruleth in all things, and which
in all things contents the soul that adheres to him, and not to the
vicissitude of affairs, and is therefore constantly even, always the
same in the midst of all changes.”
6. As to the particulars of M. _de Renty_’s mortification, in the first
place, he was dead to riches. “I acknowledge before God (says he in a
letter to his director) his great mercy to me thro’ his Son, in freeing
me from the things of this world, and my constant thoughts are, that
if his order did not oblige me to do otherwise, I would quit all that
I have.” And to another, “All that can be imagined in this world is of
small concern, though it were the losing of all our goods. This poor
ant-hill is not worth a serious thought. Had we but a little faith and
a little love, how happy should we esteem ourselves in giving away all,
to attend on God only.”
*7. Thus entirely, even in the possession of riches, was his heart
engaged from them. And when the better part of his estate was in
danger of being lost, he said, without the least emotion, “Since God
hath committed this estate to me, I will do what shall behove me to
preserve it, and then ’tis all one to me what follows.” Yea, he often
expressed a kind of holy envy toward the poor, and a high esteem of
their condition, both as most advantageous for Christian perfection,
and because Christ himself had lived and died therein. “I avow to
you, (says he to a friend) the more of riches come to me, the more
do I discover of the malignity affixed to them. My heart is strongly
inclined to follow him who was the most poor and depressed among all
his followers. But that I know I may not put myself into that estate,
I should pant after it very much. What I infer from hence is this, that
not knowing the counsels of God, I cannot tell how he will dispose of
me for the future: but I offer myself up to whatsoever shall please him,
knowing that with him I can do all things.”
8. This inward temper appeared in a thousand outward effects. He parted
with several books, because richly bound: used no gloves in season;
wore no cloaths, but plain and close made; carried no silver about him,
but for works of charity. I have seen him at first in his coach, with
a page and footman; afterward, in his coach with a footman, without
a page; then with his footman only, without his coach; and in fine,
without either.
9. And as he was dead to riches, and to all the things of the world,
so he was, secondly, to the persons in it: having no affection for any,
but what was grounded upon, and subordinate to the love of God. This
was particularly observable, with regard to those who were engaged
to him by one of the tenderest ties, who depended upon him, and
used his counsel for the conduct of their souls. *To one of these he
wrote, “I cannot hear without trouble the great matter you make of my
conversation: let us breathe after God, and learn from Jesus Christ an
entire renunciation of our own affections.” And in another letter thus:
“Jesus Christ is ever the same, and his grace is continually advancing;
and as long as I am his, I shall be yours for his sake. He is not wont
to part souls by the separation of bodies: since his custom is, only to
take away what might be a hindrance to the perfect life of the spirit.”
*10. To a friend who had lost his director he wrote thus: “His remove
would doubtless be a great loss to you and all the country, if the
providence of God did not rather sanctify and establish, than destroy;
but by removing these visible supports, he often settles us more
firmly in our adherence to him through Christ, where we find all
power, and who is so near that he is even in the midst of us; and
when our dependence upon creatures is cut off by his providence, we
experimentally find, that we are not left destitute, but that supply
is made either by the spirit which dwelleth in us, or by his ministers
that remain; who the fewer they are, the more is the grace we receive
by them multiplied. Nor should we be further engaged to those who
assist us in our spiritual conduct, than as to God’s instruments,
whose help it is his will we should make use of, but no longer than
he pleaseth; and when it is his will to take them from us by death, or
otherwise, we ought not to lose our courage, but with submission and
gratitude resign all to him, who will again provide for us as seemeth
him best.”
11. He was, Thirdly, dead to all desire of every kind. Being one day
asked, “How he could be so quiet in such circumstances,” he answered,
“That through God’s mercy, he was indifferent to all things, and that
he no longer felt either fear or desire of any thing.” And writing to
his director, he says, “For the future I could wish, if there be any
thing left for me to wish, that I had nothing left me but my God: This
is the rich treasure of the heart, the sure replenishment of the soul.”
12. He had no eager desire even of sensible consolations; touching
which, he expressed himself thus, “Dryness, and other troubles of
spirit, are to be borne with upon any terms, and we must give up
ourselves as forlorn creatures, throwing ourselves wholly upon God.”
And again, “however dry your soul may be, when you endeavour to
place it in a state of reverence and affiance in the presence of God,
persevere still as much as you can, and keep yourself shut up in the
cabinet of your heart; suffer not the noise of all those tempests
without; be still, and mind them not. They have all their use; they
serve to purge the soul, and dispose it for the operation of God
upon it. Let then distractions, and all sorts of imaginations assault
you, as it pleaseth God, but let them not hinder you from that holy
exercise; diverting (as you are able) your mind from them, continue
your sacrifice, with full assurance you shall not wait long, before
your Lord come.” And when he found himself for a time, in such a
condition, he would cry out aloud, “I am thine, O God, in spite of all
these things, and so I will continue without reserve for ever.” And
sometimes he would write with his finger upon the ground, “I am content
with every thing that proceeds from the will of God: I ask nothing else
but what he appoints for me; I will never trouble myself to be freed
from dryness; my resolution is, to bless God at all times.”
*13. Lastly, He was dead to his own will, which he had perfectly
resigned, in conformity to the will of God. “Far be it from me, saith
he in one of his letters, to act in this by my own spirit; I would
have it wholly annihilated, that it might know no other language but
nothing, and continually nothing; to follow in all the footsteps of the
divine will, according to its measure and manner.” In another thus: “My
Saviour hath graciously brought me to such a state of indifferency for
every thing that I could be well contented, all my life, to be fix’d to
my bed, a paralytic, not able to stir, without making any reflection on
any service I might render to my neighbour, or that I could render him
no more: all things according to the will of God, being equal to me.”
And in a third: “Of late I have been busied in such employments as were
sufficient to have overwhelmed so weak a spirit as mine, had it not
been absolutely resigned to the will of God. It is on him alone I rest,
having renounced myself. I adore the decrees of his sacred will, who
holdeth all things in his own hands, to keep us subject unto him by his
justice, and to sanctify us by his love: happy, if we have the hearts
of children, the spirit of Christ Jesus, to sigh after him, and cry
continually, _Abba Father_.”
CHAPTER IV.
_His patience._
1. QUESTIONLESS the humble man is patient, because he knows he deserves
far more than he suffers: And whoever will search into the true cause
of his own impatience, will find it to be no other than pride. On the
contrary, M. _de Renty_ being most humble, was by consequence most
patient.
2. Persons who had lived a very long time with him, and carefully
studied all his actions, never heard him complain for any thing
whatever; neither for sickness, or loss, or any other occasion;
but they always observed in him a constancy immovable, continually
lifting up his heart to God, and offering all to him, without otherwise
dwelling on what was grievous; being glad that the work of God went on,
and receiving all in the spirit of sacrifice.
3. In his second journey to _Dijon_, with his lady and the Countess of
_Chatres_, he was seized with a violent rheumatism, which put him into
pain all over his body: and when he was obliged to take his bed, he
went thither quite stooping, supported by a staff, and by a person that
led him. *But notwithstanding the extremity of the pain, he made no
complaint, nor uttered one word. The ladies seeing him first quite pale
and wan, and in a moment all on fire, told him, “Surely he was very
ill;” He answered only by a discourse on the pain endured by Jesus
Christ, and the favour it was for a soul to suffer for God’s will; but
in terms so full of sweetness, and with so much of love and zeal, that
the company were affected with great devotion in hearing him.”
*4. When he was again asked, whether he was not in much pain, he at
length answered plainly, “My pains are great even to swooning; but
though I feel their extremity, yet through the grace of God, I yield
not up myself to them, but to him.” He said farther, that being led
into his chapel of _Citry_, and set down upon a bench by reason of
his illness, the bench broke without any visible cause, and that he
believed the evil spirit had broken it, in order to provoke him to
impatience, making him fall untowardly; “But by the mercy of God, said
he, though the pain that surprised me was sharp, I was no more moved
than you see me now.”
5. Nor was it only in sickness, but in all occurrences of life,
he carefully practised this virtue; so that whatsoever befel him,
though it shocked his whole nature, his body, spirit, judgment, will,
inclination, desires, designs, and those of the best sort, he possessed
his soul in patience and tranquillity, receiving all without any
alteration, without being either exalted or dejected by it.
*6. “Praying to God, says he in one of his prayers, before the holy
sacrament, a poor man came to me to beg an alms. In this instant it was
given me to understand, that if we were well enlightened, _we should
never imagine ourselves to be hindred, by any person or thing_: because
we should in all things regard the order of God, conducting all to our
advantage; we should see that both inward and outward distractions are
to be received with this same spirit; and that the uneasiness these
little accidents give us, springs purely from our want of mortification.
“We ought indeed, as far as we can, to shun the occasions. But when
they come, we must look upon them as ordered by God, and receive and
bear them with all sweetness, humility and reverence: and, though
they interrupt us, the order of God is not interrupted in us. And this
indeed is the great secret of the spiritual life; this is paradise upon
earth.
“In truth, nothing troubles us but thro’ our own fault: all the
vexation which we inwardly feel, or outwardly shew, when any one
crosses or hinders us from doing any thing, flows from the disorder of
our too much engaged spirit. For removing of which, and the keeping our
hearts in peace we must mark this well: _whoever hinders us from doing
one good work, thereby gives us the means of practising another_. *A
man suppose, interrupts your reading and prayer. But he gives you an
occasion of exercising patience, which at this time will please God,
and perfect you, more than all those employments. In them there was
something of your own will; but in this you wholly renounce yourself.
And the fulness of God is not, but in the emptiness of the creature.”
7. One great source of M. _de Renty_’s patience, was the high esteem
he had of sufferings, which sometimes made him ready to cry out with
that holy woman, “Either to die or suffer”! “I see says he, that in a
manner, every thing is unprofitable in this life but to suffer. Every
pleasure is a too hasty seizure of that recompence, which is not due to
criminals, who sojourn in this world only to be purged. Some pleasures
indeed may be sometimes necessary, in regard of our weakness, but even
they are apt to hinder the soul from attaining so high a degree of
perfection.”
8. “Though I dare not chuse or bring sufferings upon myself, (says
he in a letter to his director) yet having always before my eyes how
little I render to God for his favours, I am inflamed to suffer with
our Lord. In every other thing we are receivers from God. But in this
though we receive the grace to suffer, yet the suffering is that which
we can in a manner give to God, and which is the best gage and proof of
our love.” But he very wisely adds, “although I know this, yet I cease
not to know what I am: and amidst all my inclinations and desires,
I dare not to beg to suffer the least thing: Or, if I happen to do
so I revoke it afterwards, as having done foolishly. I have too much
experience of my weakness. I give myself only to my God for every thing
he pleases. By his order I will all: With him I can do all: and that
which is ordered by him is always accompanied by grace.”
9. The same spirit he earnestly recommended to all who were studious
of Christian perfection. To one of whom he said, “It is a great favour
to suffer; that is if you suffer in the spirit of Jesus Christ. But
there are very few that do so; very few that with a perfect resignment
to what God ordains concerning them; very few without some inquietude,
and dwelling in their thoughts upon their pressures: few that give
all events to the conduct of God, to employ themselves entirely in his
praise, and to give way by their acquiescence and submission, for him
to exercise all his rights and power ever them.”
*10. One that was in great pain he encouraged thus: “Many are called
Christians, but few have a Christian spirit. Many look up to heaven in
their prayers, but in their lives they are children of nature, looking
only upon the earth. If they do lift up their eyes to heaven, it is
only to complain; to pray God to condescend to their desires, not to
shew their acceptance of his. Or perhaps they will give some small
things to God; but not those on which they have fixed their affection.
If he separates them from them, it is a dismembring which he must make,
and to which they cannot consent. As though the life of Christians were
not a life of sacrifice, a continual imitation of a crucified Saviour.
*“God, who knows our wretchedness, takes from us for our good, the
cause of our evil, a parent, a child, a husband, that he may by another
evil, affliction, draw us to himself, and make us see that all these
ties to whatsoever it be that separates us from him, are so many
obstacles to our real happiness: and such obstacles that we shall one
day own in the face of all the creation, the greatest mercy he ever
did us was, to free us from them. But we must beware not to count this
mercy a chance or misfortune; for this would be to turn the remedy into
poison.
“Let us enter into the holy disposition which was in Christ, to suffer
willingly for the glory of God, and our salvation. Is it not strange,
that though the way he past through to glory, was ignominy, pain,
and the cross, yet they who call themselves his followers, desire
and expect another way for themselves to walk in? It is a shame for a
♦Christian to pass his days more at ease than Jesus Christ did. Let us
therefore go after him, and suffer with him. Blessed be sickness, the
loss of honour, riches, goods of the nearest things, and the separation
from all creatures, which hold us bowed towards the earth, if it set
us straight, and make us lift up our eyes to heaven, and enter into
the designs of God over us. Blessed be the plague, the war the famine,
all the scourges of God, which produce in us these effects of grace and
salvation!
♦ “Chirstian” replaced with “Christian”
11. The greatest exercise of patience he ever had was that which was
given to him by his mother. She had claimed a large share of what his
father had bequeathed to him; who with great submission and respect
gave her all that he believed her due, over and above. But she demanded
still more. Being advised by council, it could not be given without
wrong to his children; he ♦referred the whole business to arbitrators,
and agreed that his mother should choose them all. The day being
come for their giving sentence, his mother was in one chamber of the
house, and her son, with his lady and a friend in an other, where
his employment was, to pray to God for such an issue as might be for
his glory, and the procurement of peace. When the award was brought,
although it was not advantageous to him, and there was a large penalty
on whomsoever did not stand to it, he heard it with perfect calmness,
and immediately signed it without objection or dispute.
♦ “refered” replaced with “referred”
12. Believing now that his mother was fully satisfied, he was no
sooner returned home, than he caused _Te Deum_ to be sung, beginning it
himself, in thanksgiving for this happy conclusion. But God, to refine
and purify him the more, permitted the cross to continue upon him. For
his mother, not satisfied yet, found means to appeal from the award,
without incurring the penalty.
Her son did all that was possible for him to alter her design; after
earnest prayer, and extraordinary fasting, he went to her, cast himself
on his knees before her, and with the utmost reverence, humility and
submission, begged of her over and over, with abundance of tears,
“that she would please to take him and his family to herself; and after
that she might dispose as she pleased of all the goods his father had
left him.” But neither would she consent to this, but persisted in her
resolution, of suing him at the parliament of _Dijon_. This he might
have prevented, and never stirred out of _Paris_, but in respect to her,
he declined it, and determined to go to _Dijon_.
13. Being come thither, he found all mens minds fully prejudiced
against him, which he gladly endured, that he might be partaker of the
reproach, and honour the abasement of the Son of God. And when a person
of piety acquainted him with the strange reports which were spread
abroad concerning him, he with admirable calmness raised his heart to
God, and humbled himself before him. She asked, Whether it was true
that injurious papers had been put in against his mother? He answered,
“No; he had seen all the writings, and found them drawn with the
respect due to a parent.” *She asked further, “If he was not much
afflicted at her harsh manner of proceeding against him?” He said,
“No; because I so much adore the order of God over me, that I cannot
be afflicted at that which he permits to befal me. I am a great sinner,
and therefore not only my mother, but all the word have just cause to
take part against me.”
14. She adds in a memorial, that many ways were proposed for adjusting
the difference; but that it was the greatest difficulty in the world to
bring his mother to join in any: that in the midst of these delays, she
said to M. _de Renty_, “Sir, I shall willingly say the _Te Deum_, when
once your business is ended.” And that one day when they believed it
would be wholly concluded, he came to her with a chearful countenance,
and said, “It is now time to say the _Te Deum_, since you had the
goodness to promise it. And may I be so bold as to desire to say it
with you? O what a great and wise God have we! Who knows well, how
to do all things, as they ought and when they ought, not according
to our precipitation, but his order, which is our sanctification!”
Hereupon he said the _Te Deum_, with a spirit so elevated to God, as
gave sufficient evidence of his being wholly filled with him. And when
afterwards all was broken off, without hopes of making up again, he
said, *“It is well; though nothing be done, it was very fit to return
thanks to God, for doing his own will, and not that of a sinner,
unworthy to be heard or regarded.”
15. There passed many other things at _Dijon_, and since at _Paris_,
during these differences, even to the death of his mother. But I doubt
not, he who is now in the place of perfect charity, approves of my
passing over in silence the failings of her, to whom all his life he
bore so much love and respect.
CHAPTER V.
_His faith._
1. MR. _de Renty_ studied with a particular care a solid foundation in
this virtue, knowing how all other virtues depend upon it, as on their
root, their rule and measure. And he possessed it in so high a degree,
that he was more assured of the presence of God, and the truth of the
mysteries of Christianity, than of the shining of the sun. He truly
lived by faith: this was the path wherein he walked, working all by
the spirit thereof. He beheld things not with his bodily eyes, but
with those that pierced deeper. Considering them not according to
their present condition, or the order of nature; but according to
their future and eternal, their relation to grace and glory; regarding
nothing but as it was, or might be a means of his own or others
salvation.
2. Being fortified by this faith, he was wont to say, he felt no
difficulty at all, when (in his younger years) he was in a state
of dryness, wholly deprived of sensible comforts. To which purpose
he writes in one of his letters thus; “We seldom meet with persons
addicted to prayer, that behave themselves well under inward trials.
They have no patience to wait for comfort. They fret themselves, and
hurry this way and that, as if by their own means they could procure
it, seeking for another support than that of faith, which alone should
suffice any spiritual man. For _the just should live by faith_, and
on that foundation rest, in expectation of our Saviour, with patience;
knowing these joys are but supplements to the littleness, and cordials
for the faintings of our faith.”
3. Animated by this spirit, he relied not on any thing that came to
him in an extraordinary way; resting neither on visions, miracles,
revelations, nor inward motions, but solely on a pure and naked faith,
to carry him to God.
4. He knew our perfection consists in nothing else, but the renewal
of our soul in faith, hope, and charity: in performing to God the
sacrifices of a lively faith, a perfect hope, and fervent charity. To
cultivate and adorn his soul with these, was therefore his constant
care; to unite it more and more intimately with God, through faith
working by love, and to give himself up with all his strength to this
hidden and divine life.
5. Some years before his death, he was peculiarly employed in the
contemplation of the blessed Trinity. Wherefore he gave this account to
his spiritual guide; *“I carry about with me ordinarily an experimental
verify, and a plenitude of the presence of the Holy Trinity.” And again,
“I possess the sacred Trinity with a plenitude of truth and clearness;
and this in so pure and vigorous a manner, that my outward employment
creates me no diversion at all.” And another time he writ thus; “Jesus
Christ worketh the experience of his kingdom in my heart, and I find
him there my Lord and my Master, and myself wholly his. I discover
now a greater enlargement of my heart, but such as I am not able to
express; only thus, it is a simple but most real sight of the Trinity,
continually accompanied with praising, blessing, and offering all
homage thereto.”
CHAPTER VI.
_His Hope._
1. A STRONG faith cannot but produce a firm hope and charity. A true
belief in God, what he is in himself, and what he is to us, will work a
strong affiance in him, and ardent charity towards him; as appeared in
M. _de Renty_, who being grounded in faith, had also an undaunted hope,
and inflamed affections.
2. The experience of the power and mercy of God, and faith in the
infinite merits of our Redeemer, were the two pillars on which he built
his hope: and resting on these, he hoped all things. He used to say,
that when he looked at himself, there was nothing so little wherein he
apprehended not difficulty. But when he looked upon God, he could think
nothing difficult, much less impossible.
3. Accordingly in all affairs, he relied not upon his own prudence,
conduct, care, or any human strength or wisdom, but on God alone,
saying, “When we have done our duty with great diffidence in ourselves,
we ought to attend wholly on God, and wait his time.” And thus he writ
to a friend, “As for my children, I leave them in the hands of the holy
Jesus, without determining any thing concerning them, not knowing what
would befall to-morrow. He giveth me great confidence in his protection,
which renders me altogether blind, without wishing any thing, but being
ready for his will in every thing.”
4. Guarded with his perfect confidence, he feared nothing, but remained
firm and resolute against all encounters. He walked securely in all
places, at all times, in the streets, in the fields, by day and by
night; travelling through woods and forests, reputed dangerous, and
frequented by robbers, without any other defence than his trust in
God. A friend told him one day, he was afraid to walk in the evening
in the streets of _Paris_ without a sword, and desired his advice; who
told him, he had left off wearing a sword a long time, and advised him,
after he had commended the business to God by prayer, to trust in his
protection; assuring himself, that his protection over us, is according
to our reliance upon him.”
5. One day a scaffold on which he stood with his workmen fell down, and
hurt several of them: but it moved not him; his spirit remained in the
same evenness as if nothing had happened; being settled on him in whom
is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.
6. Those words were found in one of his letters to his director. “My
soul being armed with confidence and love, fears neither the devil nor
hell, nor all the stratagems of man. Neither think I at all on heaven
or earth, but only how to fulfil the will of God in every thing.”
CHAPTER VII.
_His love of God._
1. THE sentiments M. _De Renty_ had of the love of God, he thus exprest
in a letter to his director; “In all I read in the scripture, I neither
understand nor find any thing but this Love. The very _end of the
commandment is love, out of a sincere heart_. And this is acquired by
faith in _Christ Jesus_, as the apostle observes in the following words.
Faith uniteth us to him, whereby we sacrifice our souls and bodies,
thro’ his spirit; which conducteth us to the compleat end of the law,
to deliver us up to God and bring him down to us in charity, and a
gracious inexplicable union; to whom be praise for ever! _Amen!_”
2. Writing to another, he says, “I thank our Lord, who hath disposed
you to a perfect self-denial. This is the way to love; and our love
of God is shewn, not so much in receiving gifts and graces from him,
as in forgetting ourselves, in renouncing all things, and suffering
constantly and courageously for him.”
3. So inflamed was M. _De Renty_ with this love, that all his thoughts,
words and works, were the fruits of it. All his virtues drew their
original from this: it was the beginning, and motive, and end of all.
“I cannot conceal from you, said he to a friend, that I have a fire in
my heart, which burns and consumes without ceasing.” And this divine
fire was so ardent in his soul, that the flames thereof often burst
forth into his exterior; and he hath owned, that whenever he pronounced
the name of God, he tasted such a sweetness as could not be exprest.
4. One of his friends assures us, “he has often seen him so inflamed
with love, that he appeared like one beside himself: and that he has
told him, when these transports were upon him, he was ready to cast
himself into the fire, to testify his love to God.” And one of his
letters he concludes thus: “I must now hold my peace; yet when I cease
to speak, the fire within that consumes me will not let me rest. Let
us burn then, and burn wholly and in every part for God. Since we have
no being but by him, why do we not live to him? I speak it aloud and it
would be my crown of glory, to seal it with my blood.”
*5. To another he writes thus: “I know not what your intent was,
in writing those words, ‘_My |God| and my all!_’ Only you incite me
thereby to return the same to you and to all creatures, ‘My God and my
all! My God and my all! My God and my all!’ Is your heart full of it,
and think you it possible I should be silent on such an invitation! Be
it known to you, that he is my God and my all; and if you doubt of it,
I shall speak it a hundred times over. I shall add no more, for any
thing else is superfluous to him that is truly penetrated with ‘My God
and my all’.”
*6. This love of God wrought in him an incredible zeal for his honour,
which he thus expresses to his director; “One day being transported
with an earnest desire to be all devoted to God, and all consumed for
him, I offered up to him all I could, yea, and all I could not. I would
willingly, if they had been mine, have made a deed of gift to him of
heaven and earth: and in another way, I would gladly have been the
lowest of all mankind. Yea, and if supported by his grace, I could
have been content, to advance his glory, to have suffered the pains
of the damn’d. In this disposition of a calm zeal, there is no sort of
martyrdom, no degree of greatness or littleness, honour or dishonour,
that passed not through my soul, and that I would not readily have
embraced for the advancement of his glory. It is impossible to express
one circumstance of what I felt. All I could do was, to give up my
liberty to God, writing the deed in paper and signing it with my blood.”
7. See here the zeal of a man all on fire with the love of God! And the
surest proof of love, conformity to his will. This intimate union of
his will with God’s, the object and end of all his actions, was indeed
one of his singular graces, as it is the sum of all perfection. He writ
thus to one concerning the Countess of _Chatres_, with whom he had the
strictest friendship; “I must own, that during my absence from her,
my heart was tenderly sensible of her pain. But my desire submits to
the will of God, and when that is signified, he gives me grace to obey.
I was not at _Paris_, but at _Citry_, when she departed; I was sent
for post but came two hours too late. Entering the town, I soon heard
the news of her death. Presently I fixt myself to the will of God;
whereupon I found no more alteration in my soul, than if she had been
alive. I see his order in this, that I assisted her not at her death,
and doubt not but he permitted it for her advantage.”
8. Another time he writ thus: “I have these three weeks had a fever,
with a defluxion, and an extreme weakness. My frame of mind during this
condition, has been a simple adherence to the will of God. I have a
heart willing and ready to receive any afflictions that can befall me.
I desire whatever is decreed from above, and beg it with all my heart.”
9. In the year 1641, one of his children, whom he tenderly loved died.
When the news was brought him, he spoke not one word, nor, shewed the
least sign of disturbance: his affection to the child yielding to his
absolute conformity with the will of God.
10. At the end of the year 1643, his lady fell desperately sick, so
that she was given over by her physicians, and left speechless and
without sense. This affected him in the most sensible manner; and he
broke out into these words:
“I cannot deny but my nature is deeply affected with the sense of so
great a loss. Yet my spirit is filled with so wonderful a joy, to see
myself in such a state, as to give up, and sacrifice to my God, a thing
so dear to me, that if decency did not forbid it, I would give some
open testimony of my readiness thereto.” Hereby he evidenced the will
of God to be so absolutely his, that he not only willed whatever God
willed, but also willed it as God doth, with pleasure and satisfaction.
But it pleased God to restore his lady to her health, with respect (as
we may believe) to the carriage of his faithful servant.
11. From this perfect subordination to the will of God, sprung his
admirable tranquillity. From this fountain flowed those rivers of peace
which he possessed in so great perfection, that on the most sudden
surprisals, his spirit was not altered, nor put into any disorder. So
that he could say from the abundance of his heart, “I comprehend not
that thing you call mortification. He who finds no resistance in his
spirit to any thing, is not capable of it. Whoso willeth whatsoever God
willeth, is pleased, whatsoever happens.”
12. With this Love of God was joined so deep a reverence of him, as
often cast him into trembling. And this unspeakable respect unto God’s
greatness caused him often to walk in the fields bare-headed, even
in rain, or the heat of the sun: and being asked by a friend, what
it was that kept him in that constant awe, and how he attained that
wonderful reverence he bore to God at all times, in all places, in all
employments, he answered, “The sight of his glorious majesty, which
continually seems present by me, keeps me in exceeding awe, with a deep
sense of his greatness and my own vileness. A mote in the sun is little,
but I am far less in the ♦presence of God.”
♦ “prescence” replaced with “presence”
*13. And sure it is, that this deep sense of his own vileness, before
the majesty of God, well becomes not only the greatest of sinners,
but the holiest of men upon earth. He that from a valley beholds the
sun when it rises, and appears on the point of a high mountain, may
think him that stands above to be near it, and almost able to reach it
with his hand. But the same man notwithstanding beholds it at a vast
distance above his head. And though in reality, he is nearer than the
other that stands in the valley, yet the proportion is so small as
scarce deserves to be named, in respect to the total distance.
14. This reverence of God occasioned in him a great reverence likewise
to whatsoever was devoted to him: as first to all holy places; at his
entrance into a church, his demeanor was highly modest and serious.
He never sat down there. He would remain in it as long as possibly he
could; sometimes seven or eight hours together. If any person spoke to
him in church, his answer was short; if a longer was required, he went
out and gave it.
15. He had great respect, secondly, to holy persons, especially to
priests, whom he highly honoured for their work sake. Whenever he met
them, he saluted them with profound humility, and in his travels would
alight off his horse to do it. When they visited him, he entertained
them with great respect; at their going, waiting on them to the gate:
And if any dined at his table, he gave them the upper hand, which
civility he observed to his own chaplain.
16. And as he had this reverence for them, so had he an earnest desire,
that they might live according to the dignity of their calling. When he
saw any that did not, he profest his heart melted into sorrow for them,
and that he prostrated himself before our Saviour, and begged with
tears some apostolical spirits. He often said, “Give us, O Lord, our
poor fishermen, men, simple in appearance, and vile in the eyes of men;
but great and holy within, and fit to convert souls by their sanctity,
prayers, and restless labours!” And herein I discover a great mistake
ordinary in the world, that outward greatness and pomp is the way to
keep up men’s credit, and make them more capable of doing good to their
neighbours. O, no! It is grace that hath power upon the souls, and an
holy and humble life that gaineth hearts!
CHAPTER VIII.
_His Love of man._
SECTION I.
_Of his love to man in general._
1. THE grand exercise of M. _de Renty_, was to apply and unite himself
to our Saviour, and from that union and example to derive all his
virtues and good works. To mould himself after him was his general
course, both in his inward tempers and outward behaviour. He never
took his eye off of this divine copy, but endeavoured to draw every
line exactly, to pencil his true likeness, and make him his native and
perfect original.
2. This was the scope of all his designs and cares, and particularly
that of his charity to his neighbour; for which he propounded our
Saviour as his grand exemplar, weighing the affection he shewed for
men; marking what _he_ had done, and what _he_ had suffered for them,
how _he_ sought after, and conversed with them; how _he_ instructed,
comforted, and encouraged them, sometimes reproving, sometimes bearing
with their infirmities; at all times carrying them in his bosom, yea,
in the most intimate inclosure of his heart.
3. He well weighed what Christ had delivered concerning this virtue:
that he had established it as the perfection of his law; that he had
termed this command peculiarly his own; that he had expressly and
solemnly bequeathed it to his followers, and enforced the execution of
it upon them by all the strongest and most endearing ties; that he had
made this virtue the distinctive character of those who were in reality
his disciples; and that he had charged us to love our neighbour,
according to the model, measure, and fashion that he had loved us. And
accordingly he determined, as far as he could, to love his neighbour
with the bent and spirit of his master. “I sigh (said he) after my
Saviour Jesus, desiring to imitate and follow him whither he pleaseth.
I beseech you, by your prayers, obtain for me his spirit, to be my life,
my whole life. Sigh and groan for me after my God, that I may be wholly
for him, in his Son, that I may follow him, and not live but by his
Spirit.”
4. Agreeably to this he endeavoured, in all the commerce he had with
men, to unite himself most intimately to our Saviour, giving himself
up as an instrument to be guided by his hand in the helping of others,
beseeching him to breathe upon him his spirit of love, recommended
so much in his word, but more in his actions, and to inflame him with
this sacred fire which he hath kindled in his church, that he might be
wholly consumed with it. He consulted him in all his doubts concerning
it, begging him to inspire what, and how, and when, he should speak and
act for the good of his neighbour; and that in him and by him it might
all be done.
*5. He looked upon men not according to their natural qualities,
their beauty, nobility, riches, or worldly distinctions, but according
to their more noble relations, and those common to all, _viz._ As
creatures divine, the lively images of God, formed to praise and love
him to all eternity; as purpled in the blood of Jesus, brothers and
co-heirs with him, his inheritance bought with the price of his life,
and a thousand pangs, and who therefore must be infinitely dear unto
him, and most tenderly beloved of him.
*In this capacity it was that he beheld men, and applied to their
necessities. And hereby as he was highly useful to his neighbour, so he
did not prejudice but greatly advantage himself. He looked upon God and
Christ in every man. He considered, it was they that demanded succour
of him. And while he was performing with all his might whatever was
necessary for the soul and body of the least of his brethren believed
verily it was God and Christ to whom he rendered that assistance.
And the same thought should all make use of, who would benefit their
neighbour, without prejudice to themselves, otherwise, a man shall
sooner lose his own soul, than lead another to God.
7. The charity of this man of God, built on these foundations, was so
enlarged, that it seemed to have no bounds; in that he loved not only
all Christians, but all men, without excepting any. _Thy commandment_,
says _David_, _is exceeding broad_; the same dimensions had his charity;
embracing the present and absent, domestics and strangers, friends
and enemies, good and bad; esteeming all according to their degree,
speaking (as he could) well of all, doing good to all, and ill to none.
8. There was not any considerable good work of a public nature, done at
_Paris_, or within a great distance of it, wherein he had not a great
share. There was no undertaking there, tending to the honour of God
or good of men, of which he was not either the author, or promoter,
or finisher, and very often all these together. He was one at all the
meetings of piety; and of many the very soul. He kept correspondence
throughout the whole kingdom, concerning works of charity, receiving
letters from all parts, desiring his advice in all difficulties that
occurred, in the erecting or perfecting hospitals, seminaries of
religion, and fraternities of virtuous persons, associating together
for the better applying themselves to their own and others salvation,
and the managing all sorts of good works.
9. From _Caen_ one writes of him thus: “M. _de Renty_ was our support
and refuge in the execution of all our designs, relating to the service
of God, the saving of souls, and the relief of the poor and distressed.
To him we continually wrote, and from him we received counsel and
succour on all occasions. Nor have we met with any since his death to
whom we could have the like recourse in the things of God.” Another
from _Dijon_ writes thus: “We cannot but acknowledge the great benefit
this province has received from M. _de Renty_. Wherever he came he hath
wonderfully advanced all works of piety. We may truly say, that his
days were filled with the fulness of God. Nor do we believe he lost one
minute of time, in which he did not either speak or act something for
his service.”
10. He applied himself to the necessities of the _English_, the _Irish_,
the captives in _Barbary_, and of the missions into the _Levant_; took
great pains for the support of the hospital at _Marseilles_; laboured
much for the relief of galley-slaves, and contributed much to the
advancing the affairs of _New France_ in _America_. He had a design
likewise to purge all trades and manufactures from the corruptions
which had grown upon them, so that men might live upon them like
Christians; which thing he begun and perfected in two of them.
11. The scripture he most studied, next the life of our blessed Saviour,
to qualify himself for all good works, was St. _Paul_’s description of
charity, in the 13th chapter of his first epistle to the _Corinthians_.
And whosoever is exercised in the virtues there described, will not run
in vain, nor labour in vain. *Indeed the more any one is animated with
this spirit, the more shall he advance holiness in others. Yea, though
his words be few and ordinary. For our words do not derive their force
from the mouth that speaks, but from the disposition of the heart, and
the power of the spirit that dwells there.
12. To qualify himself to be more extensively useful to his neighbour
M. _de Renty_, to the natural abilities God had given him, and to
the learning he had acquired in his youth, had by his industry added
several smaller parts of knowledge: and that not only for his own use,
but to teach them to others, whereby to help themselves. Yea, he abased
himself to learn the meanest skill, which might be any way useful
to his neighbour. One day in _Paris_ he carried a friend with him
to a poor man, who got his living by making wicker-baskets. He there
finished a basket which he had begun some days before, with design as
soon as he had learned it, to teach some poor people in the country to
make them, to help to get their living. He then left the basket with
the poor man, and a piece of money for teaching him.
13. Indeed he took upon him all shapes, transformed himself into all
figures, condescended to all things for the good of his neighbour:
all his thoughts, words and actions, being wholly cast in the mould of
charity: *Which made him say one day, “Methinks my soul is all charity,
and I am not able to express with what ardour and strange expansion my
heart is renewed in the divine life of my Saviour, burning in love to
all mankind.”
SECTION II.
_His charity to the poor._
*1. WITH regard to the poor, M. _de Renty_’s thoughts stayed not on
their habit or outward appearance; but passing further, he beheld under
these, with the eye of faith, Jesus Christ present and dwelling in them.
And as he burned with an ardent affection to our Lord, so he loved
them tenderly, succoured them with all his might, and left nothing
unattempted for their sakes. And with these eyes, not those of nature,
must every one behold the poor, that will love them indeed, and have
bowels of compassion for them.
2. From the year 1641, he invited to dinner two poor men twice a week,
on _Tuesdays_ and _Fridays_. But increase of business obliged him five
or six years after to reduce it to one day, commonly _Thursday_; when
he invited three; and willing to join spiritual alms to corporal, he
sought out such as seemed most to need instruction. To this end, while
at _Paris_, after his morning devotions, he went to St. _Anthony_’s
gate, and took such as were newly arrived, whom courteously saluting,
he brought home (in winter to the fire) made them sit down, and with
a cordial affection, which appeared in his whole behaviour, instructed
them in the chief points of Christianity. While they sat at table, he
served them himself, setting before them with his own hands the dishes
brought in by his servants and children. After dinner, he waited on
them himself to the gate, and dismissed them with an alms. This he
continued to his death, and when he could not do it in person, his lady
did the same to so many poor women.
3. Besides many other charities at his own house, he endeavoured the
general relief of all the poor in _Paris_, and the parts adjacent;
busied himself to understand their wants, studied ways of redress,
and carefully pursued them. What he could not accomplish himself,
he commended to others, spake for them, begged for them, bought
necessaries for them; laboured to establish settled courses of living
for men and children that were destitute, and when he could not at
present provide for them abroad, maintained them at his own house till
he could.
4. He was the first that motioned some relief for the poor _English_,
driven by persecution out their own country. He engaged persons of
quality in the purchasing of lands for their subsistence. When it was
done, himself undertook the charge of distributing one part of this
charity. This he performed, monthly, going to them a foot, and commonly
alone entering their chamber, he saluted them with all tenderness and
respect, and gave them their allowance wrapt up in a paper.
*5. In all his visits to the poor, after a general survey of their
wants, he examined in particular as well their spiritual as bodily
necessities; and endeavoured in the first place to mark their
inclinations, their passions, their ill habits; what vices were
predominant in them, and what were their chief infirmities: that like
a prudent physician he might apply fit remedies, and teach them how to
make the true use of their poverty.
6. As to their temporal necessities, he considered the capacity,
industry, trade or employment of each: for tradesmen, he considered
what tools or materials were necessary to set them to work. These he
provided, either redeeming their own, or buying new. He then gave them
provisions for two or three days, and provided them work not only for
themselves, but also for their wives and children. Afterwards he bought
some of their work, which he bestowed in alms upon others, and took
orders for the quick sale of the rest, coming to them from time ♦to
time to see if all went well, and encourage them to take pains.
♦ supplied missing word “to”
7. To these we may add, his charity to poor prisoners, whom he visited,
comforted, and relieved, and when he found it expedient for them,
(which he always first considered) used all means for their enlargement.
8. There was in _Low-Normandy_, one who had been a prisoner for several
years, and tho’ innocent, was in great extremity. Many had endeavoured
his release but without success, because of a powerful adversary. The
thing being commended to M. _de Renty_, after a just information of the
case, he committed the prosecution of it to his own advocate, made a
report of it to the council, and went frequently in person to sollicit
it.
9. But notwithstanding, perceiving the poor man’s cause to hang long,
he changed his purpose, and writ to his adversary, offering, if the
business might be referred to him, to take a journey into _Normandy_
immediately. When he came to the town, he went directly to the prison,
and after an exhortation to the prisoners, seconded by his alms, he
told the poor man his design, and exhorted him to pray to God for a
blessing on his endeavours, and to rest in hope that by some means or
other he should shortly be delivered.
10. He then went to the other’s house; whence he returned to the prison
for information on some difficulties that occurred. Finding all the
prisoners together at their usual devotions, he waited till they had
done. Having then received information, he went back to the other, with
whom he came to such an agreement, that this poor man, after a world of
misery, during nine years imprisonment, was at length set at liberty.
He maintained him eight days at his own house, advising and exhorting
him every evening: and at his departure persuaded him to go and see
his (former) adversary; whom he now found as tractable and friendly, as
before he had been severe.
SECTION III.
_His charity to the sick._
1. IF his charity to the poor was thus great, it was still greater to
such poor as were sick. He was not content to assist these in one or
two ways; but they found in him, and often in one visit, a benefactor,
a physician, apothecary, surgeon, a pastor, friend and servant.
2. In the year 1641, he learned to let blood, and several parts of
surgery. He acquainted himself likewise with the manner of making up
most sorts of medicines; and he consulted with a physician, by whom he
was instructed in the principal parts of the art of physic. Whenever he
went abroad, he had with him a surgeon’s box, and powders for the cure
of most ordinary diseases; which he used with great dexterity, and with
equal prudence, never advancing beyond his knowledge.
3. In his visits to the sick, he never ♦shunned any service necessary
for them, and in his power to perform; as making their beds, helping
them to bed, making their fire, setting in order their little
houshold-stuff; hoping thereby to win upon their affections, and draw
them to God with more facility.
♦ “shuned” replaced with “shunned”
4. In every family he took an opportunity to enquire whether God was
served there? And whether any quarrels or differences were among them,
which he took care to make up without delay. And he never left any
without providing for all their necessities, which he took notice of
with incredible diligence, sweetness, and respect; dispensing with
other business, that he might have time to hear all their complaints.
5. Neither did he only visit the sick, but they also sought him, and
would find him out wheresoever he came, if they were able to go abroad.
The sick, the weak, the lame, or otherwise infirm, flocked to him
from all quarters: he might often be seen encompassed with them; some
requesting his medicines, some his alms, some his counsel. He treated
all, as a true disciple of his great master, with the like diffusive
charity; and stood in the midst of them with the like goodness and
patience, endeavouring to do good, and to minister comfort to all.
6. Nor did his charity decline the care of those diseases which nature
cannot behold without horror and aversion. During his stay at _Dijon_,
he was informed of one, who having been among a company of soldiers,
was left by them in so noisome a condition, that none would come near
her, and the person where she lodged was going to turn her out of doors.
He went instantly to the house, perswaded them to keep her there, and
hired a woman to attend her. Then he provided her proper physic and
nourishment, which he brought her with his own hands: in the mean time,
reading to her every day, instructing and comforting her. By this means
he at length not only retrieved her from the jaws of death, but induced
her to spend the rest of her life in a virtuous and Christian manner.
SECTION IV.
_His zeal for the salvation of his neighbour._
1. M. _de Renty_ being continually inflamed with the love of God,
incessantly sought always, and used all means to make him more known
and loved by all men, both here and eternally. And this his zeal had
no bounds; it extended not only to all _France_, but to all the world;
insomuch that he said to an intimate friend, “I am ready to serve
all men, not excepting one, and to lay down my life for any one.” He
earnestly desired to enlighten with the knowledge of God, and inflame
with his love, the whole world; of which _Paris_ being as it were an
epitome, he went through all the quarters and streets of that vast city,
searching out what he could remove or bring in, for the glory of God,
and salvation of souls. And the same spirit which moved him hereto,
blest his endeavours to rectify what was amiss, and to strengthen what
was right. *This he did in so many several ways, as a man would think
it impossible: but what cannot a man do that is zealous, disinterested,
and full of God?
2. He performed what possibly he could in his own person, not sparing
any pains, nor losing one moment: and where his power fell short,
he engaged others: and in all places he laboured, as much as in him
lay, to induce such as desired to follow Christ, to join together, and
assist one another in working out both their own and their neighbour’s
salvation. Many such societies he established at _Caen_, at ♦_Amiens_,
at _Dijon_, and in several parts of _Burgundy_; whose endeavours being
animated by a true zeal for God, were blessed with unexpected success.
♦ “Amines” replaced with “Amiens”
3. To arm one who was thus engaged, against the difficulties he met
with, he writ to him thus:
“I am very sensible of the present storms that you endure; though there
is no reason why men should alarm you thus, seeing they have no cause
of reproach from your design, nor have you done any thing against
the gospel: yet I do not wonder at these crosses. ’Tis sufficient to
know that you desire to follow Jesus Christ: therefore you must reckon
contradiction to be your portion in these days of your flesh. Only be
firm in your confidence in our Lord, suffering none of these storms
to trouble you, or to obscure that light which hath moved you to, and
guarded you in this business. God deliver you from the reasonings of
flesh and blood, which at such times are apt to multiply upon us: be
assured, that if you hearken not to them, God will manifest himself
unto you; he will comfort and fortify you in faith, and in experience
of the gift of his holy Spirit.”
4. To another he writ thus: “Blessed for ever be the Holy Jesus, for
the good beginning of those you mention. If the other had a little
more courage to break her fetters, it would be a great step: and surely
there needs not so much deliberation to give up ourselves to him,
although he be to the _Jews_ a stumbling-block, and to the _Greeks_
foolishness. Not that God hath any need of our good parts or excellent
qualities, who commonly confounds the wisdom of the wise, by little
things which he chuseth. Blessed be that littleness which is accounted
weakness, and yet overthroweth all the power and prudence of the world.”
*5. We mentioned before his endeavour to reform trades from the abuses
and corruptions which, in process of time, they had contracted, and to
sanctify them, that some at least in each might live like the primitive
Christians, in common; deducting from their flock only their necessary
maintenance, and bestowing the rest on the poor. And, at length, he
in part effected it; so that there are now two companies in _Paris_,
one of taylors, the other of shoemakers, and of these in several
quarters of the city, (and the like there are at _Thoulouse_) who live
in community; rising, eating, working and praying together morning
and evening: calling each other brothers, and living together in the
strictest unity and concord.
6. Passing one day by the hospital of St. _Gervase_, and hearing it
was devoted to the lodging of poor travellers, he desired leave of the
superior to instruct them, in the evening when they ♦were met together.
And this he did from that time, every night, coming thither on foot,
and commonly alone, summer and winter. After instructing them, he
joined with them in prayer, which he concluded with his alms. And this
he continued many years, till some Churchmen, moved by his example,
undertook that work, which they continue to this day.
♦ “where” replaced with “were”
*7. His tenderness of heart to these poor people was exceeding great,
joined with such humility as cannot easily be expressed. When he met
any one at the hospital, he saluted him with great respect, put him
before him, and talked with him bare-headed. If any kneeled to him, he
did the like to them, and continued on his knees till they rose first.
One of them observing him diligently, and knowing him to be the Lord
of the place where he himself lived, was deeply affected at the sight,
and came and fell at his feet: M. _de Renty_ did the like to him, and
continued in that posture a long time, resolving not to rise before the
poor man.
*8. Going one day to visit the holy place of _Monmatre_, after his
prayers said in the church, he retired into a desolate part of the
mountain, near a little spring. There he kneeled down to prayer, and
that ended, dined on a piece of bread and a draught of water. After
dinner he took out his testament, and read a chapter on his knees,
bare-headed, with extraordinary reverence. Just then came a poor man,
saying his prayers. M. _de Renty_ rose up to salute him, and fell into
a discourse with him concerning God, and that so powerfully, that the
poor man striking his breast, fell down upon the ground to adore that
great God. Immediately after, came a poor maid to draw water at the
well, whom he asked, What she was? She answered, a servant, “But do you
know, said he, you are a Christian, and to what end you was created?”
Whence he took occasion so to instruct her, that confessing she had
never before thought of the end of her creation, she promised from
thenceforth deeply to consider, and seriously to pursue it.
9. In his first return from _Dijon_, he stopped three or four times in
the way, to instruct the poor passengers; and once went out of the road,
to shew some labourers in the field, how to sanctify the work they were
about.
10. A young maid in _Paris_, having been very cruelly used by her uncle,
fell into such a disorder, that in a fury she accused our Saviour as
the cause of her misery, for abandoning her to such a man. In this
horrible condition, she received the sacrament several times in a day;
on purpose to do despight to our Saviour, and provoke him to finish
her destruction. M. _de Renty_ was no sooner informed of this, than he
hasted to find her out; as he did, after eight days search, in the very
act of communicating. He immediately conveyed her thence, and took so
great care both of her soul and body, that she returned to herself, and
gave ample testimonies of her repentance.
11. As the design of advancing the salvation of men, is attended with
much doing and much suffering, it is necessary for him that undertakes
it, to fortify himself with courage and patience; and both these were
most eminently in M. _de Renty_, being, in the first place, full of
courage, resolute, and laborious; employing his body as if he had two
more in reserve when that was spent; dispatching more business in one
half-hour, than others did in many days. Very bold he was in entering
upon difficulties, and quick in extricating himself from them.
12. A lady who had left much to pious uses, made him her executor.
Being informed, her friends, men of eminent power, were much displeased,
he replied, “I never moved her to bestow any of her estate this way;
but since her piety has prompted her to it, I shall not be dismayed
with any power that shall oppose it: my care is to perform her will,
and for other things I take no thought.”
13. Seeing one day some gentlemen fighting, he threw himself between
their swords, laying hold on those who seemed most outrageous. At first
they quarrelled with him; but in a short time were friends, both with
him, and with one another.
*14. His zeal was accompanied, secondly, with unparalleled patience;
a virtue highly requisite for him that would save the souls of men;
seeing he must endeavour to win their hearts, at which he is to
make his first entrance; not following his own will or inclinations,
but theirs; becoming all things to all men; waiting long for their
conversion, and attending (without being tired and discouraged, though
by all his labour he should gain but little ground) the favourable
moments wherein they may yield to his motives. He must, like this holy
man, not only be willing to endure hunger, thirst, heat, cold, wet,
weariness and other outward pains, inseparably attendant on employments
of this nature; but also the importunities, complaints, passions,
the repulses, the contempts and injuries that are continually to be
expected in them.
15. While he was employed in instructing the poor travellers in the
hospital of St. _Gervase_, a man who was settled there, looking upon
it as an intrusion into his office, came to him, as he was in the midst
of the poor, and with many injurious and reproachful words, forbad him
to come any more. M. _de Renty_ having heard him without any emotion,
replied, “The poor people had much need of instruction; and since he
would not be at the pains of it himself, he prayed him not to hinder
one that would.” This did not satisfy him at all, but he came four days
together to drive out M. _de Renty_, interrupting him as soon as he
began; but he still received him with the same spirit, and at length
overcame evil with good.
16. One day he visited a person who, from a groundless suspicion, had
cruelly used his wife; who understanding his business, entertained him
very coarsely, giving him much opprobrious language, lifting up his
hand to strike him, and offering to thrust him out of doors. M. _de
Renty_ replied not one word, but after some time, drew near again,
embraced him, and accosted him with such soft language, that he was
perswaded, at length, to go to confession, which he had not done in
twelve years before, and to be fully reconciled to his wife; insomuch
that he lived and died a good Christian.
17. Another time, visiting a poor, old man that was sick, he began,
as usual, to speak of spiritual things. But the old man, instead
of listning, fell into a passion, telling him, he understood those
things better than he. M. _de Renty_ told him, he would be glad to be
instructed; and after a great deal of patience, and attention, taking
advantage from some things in that weak discourse, to convince and
inform him better, he proceeded so happily, that the rest of his days
he led a truly Christian life.
18. His patience in bearing with the faults and imperfections of others,
as it was truly exemplary, so it never took away, or weakened his
desire to correct them, for which he only waited a proper occasion.
When he intended to reprove another, he commonly first accused himself,
to prepare them by his example. Having such an intention, he began
a discourse of that openness with which Christians ought to tell one
another the truth; for want of which we grow grey in our vices, and
often carry them with us to our graves; saying, “He should hold himself
♦extremely obliged to any who would shew him that kindness. His friend
finding his heart exceedingly softened, besought him to deal freely and
plainly with him, in telling him whatsoever he saw amiss in him; which
thing then he did.”
♦ “extreamly” replaced with “extremely”
*19. But his patience did not in the least break in upon that fortitude,
which is often requisite in the things of God, for the good of our
neighbour, and for the worthy preserving of our just authority. He
knew severity must be used sometimes, especially when we have to do
with stubborn offenders; and accordingly advised a friend, concerning
a third person, “Take heed of humbling yourself before that man; the
abasing yourself in this case, would both prejudice him, and the cause
of God. Reprove him severely and roundly.”
20. And not in these instances only, but in all others, his zeal was
accompanied both with freedom and prudence. For though his humility
has concealed many of his inward graces and outward actions, yet many
likewise has his zeal brought to light, where he judged it necessary
for the glory of God, or the good of his neighbour: concerning which he
thus wrote to a virtuous lady:
“Give me leave to speak my thoughts of that liberty we ought to use, in
communicating freely the gifts of God bestowed upon us, to such persons
as may reap fruit from them; not stifling them in ourselves, whereby we
obstruct a second fruit, which God expects from his graces. *We should
consider ourselves set in the world as a chrystal, which, placed in
the middle of the universe, would give free passage to all the light
which it receives from above: so ought we to impart all the talents we
receive, and this without disguise, or the least claim of propriety.
*“Farther: as the chrystal, if several torches were set under it, would
transmit the beams of them all towards heaven: so whatever honours
or commendations we receive from below, should freely pass through us
up to God; for God hath therefore bestowed upon us such things as are
praise-worthy, not that the praise thereof should rest upon us, but
that it may pass through us to him, that he may ♦be blessed and praised
in all things.”
♦ inserted skipped word “be”
21. Yet his zeal, though free, was not so indiscreet, as to be its own
herald upon every appearance of doing good; but was very circumspect in
weighing all circumstances. Accordingly, in the same letter, he gives
this wise advice, touching the order and measure which are necessary
to be observed in this communication.
“To some, we must lay open our hearts freely and exactly; to others
more reservedly; to others we should be altogether locked up,
concealing from them what we see no disposition in them to make a
good use of.”
*22. Zeal indeed should be always attended with prudence, to consider
things well, and execute them in the best manner; to prevent mischiefs,
or redress them with as much of sweetness, and as little acrimony as
possible: and in desperate cases, or where the cure would prove worse
than the disease, to suffer and pass them over; some souls having
defects, as it were, incorrigible, which God permits to perfect them by
humility; and others likewise, that have an intercourse with them, by
patience and charity.
*23. One great point of prudence requisite in a zealous man, is,
neither to hurt his body by too much labour, nor his mind with too
much business. As to the latter of these, M. _de Renty_ took especial
care, so to manage all his works of charity, that his piety might
not be hindered but advanced thereby, indispensably performing all
his exercises of devotion; and while he conversed most with his
neighbour, reserving a considerable part, both of the day and night,
for conversing with God. As to the other, he thus expressed himself to
a clergyman, who had impaired his health by extreme labour:
“Give me leave, Sir, to tell you plainly, that you should not impose
too much upon yourself, lest for want of moderation, you render
yourself altogether unserviceable. The enemy usually takes no small
advantage of such free and well-disposed natures; you are not your own,
but a debtor to all men. Preserve yourself therefore, not by indulging
your body, but by laying upon it no more than it is able to bear.”
24. Being at _Citry_, in the latter end of the year 1642, he had a
strong impression upon his spirit, that at his return to _Paris_,
he should find a new employment about the poor, and be much taken up
therein. Accordingly, two days after his return thither, some persons
came to advise with him, about a course of relieving all such poor
in the city, as were ashamed to beg. He undertook to visit a fourth
part of them, and to assist them according to their necessities. An
employment sufficient to take up the whole time of one man, which yet
he performed, notwithstanding the multitude of his other occupations;
so that we must say, without a special assistance, he could not have
done and suffered what he did; but God, who hath limited our strength
of body, can increase it when and how he pleaseth.
25. Sometimes he received before-hand only a present impulse of
something to be done, without any particular discovery. As when he was
much pressed in spirit to go to _Pontois_, without understanding any
reason for it; yet, believing it to be the call of God, he immediately
undertook the journey; where unexpectedly he met with a nobleman of
great quality, who was come from a province far distant, on purpose to
be instructed by M. _de Renty_, how to serve God, which he had, till
then, little known, and less practised.
26. But though this great servant of God had an excellent faculty of
assisting all, yet was he more eminently assistant to some particular
persons, for the healing their souls, and leading them on apace in
the narrow way of perfection. I shall mention one only, the Countess
of _Chatres_, who being deep in the affections of the world, as are
most young ladies of her quality, it pleased God to inspire her with a
desire to ask advice of M. _de Renty_; this he gave her with so happy
success, that he himself was astonished at it. In less than a year,
she was so perfectly disengaged from all those little conveniences and
accommodations, which our ladies perswade themselves are absolutely
necessary, that one offering her something of this kind, which she was
formerly fond of, she answered, “I thank God, I have quitted this, and
many more things, for the love of God, and yet find no want at all.”
27. God gave him light to discern her proper way, how to renounce
herself, and advance in the paths of solid virtue, and to support her
in great inward afflictions. And she, on her part, resigned up herself
to his guidance, and forced herself to put his advice in execution:
a thing very requisite in those who would make use of the conduct of
others to good purpose.
*28. Though this happy intercourse, accompanied with such signal
blessings, had contracted a strict and perfect friendship between
them, yet he was very wary and reserved in his conversation with
her; visiting her only when the work of God required it, and neither
speaking nor staying with her any longer than was precisely necessary.
This she thought a little harsh, and complained of it to a friend, whom
she knew to have some power with him, saying, “M. _de Renty_ extremely
mortifies me with his civilities and reservedness. I have great need
to see him often, and yet cannot obtain it. Nay, when we are together,
he will not sit down, except when I am sick, or not able to stand any
longer; and always with his hat in his hand. I beg you to tell him,
what out of respect I dare not, what inquietude I suffer, to see his
behaviour such toward me, who ought to be continually under his feet.”
The person acquainting him with this, he answered, “I proceed in this
manner because my duty to God and to the Countess of _Chatres_ require
it. My Saviour obliges me to converse with her; but I must do no
more than what is necessary, and so retire, for which this posture is
most convenient. If we sat down, we should forget ourselves, and talk
more than is necessary, and perhaps pass on to things unprofitable:
therefore we ought both to stand upon our guard.”
29. Those who undertake the conduct of souls, ought seriously to
consider this answer; and to be fully persuaded, that the business does
not consist in speaking much to them, but in disposing them to speak to
God, and in making them fit for God to speak to them.
30. In the year 1647, having visited one afflicted with great pains, he
thus writ to his director:
“I have been with the person you know of, and have told her what I
thought suitable to her condition. I acquainted her how we ought to
lay this sure foundation, that we are nothing but weakness and misery
itself; and that God from this insufficiency of ourselves to all good,
means to extract humility and diffidence of ourselves, obliging us
thereby to fly to his Son, to find strength in Him, and a remedy for
all our miseries.
“As concerning myself, I have not much to say. Only I find within
myself, by the mercy of God, a great tranquility in his presence,
through the Spirit of Jesus Christ, and such an inward experience of
eternal life, as I am not able to express. Yet I find myself, so naked
and barren that I wonder at the condition I am in, and by which I
discourse. In my converse with this person, I begun my speech, not
knowing how to pursue it. After the second sentence I had not the least
foresight of what should be the third; and so of the rest. Not but
that I seem to have a perfect knowledge of the things I speak, in such
a manner as I am capable of it. But I only utter what is given me, and
in the same way as it is communicated, I communicate it to others.”
CHAPTER IX.
_His outward behaviour, and conduct of business._
1. M. _de Renty_ being sensible, that even our outward behaviour is
of great consequence in the service of our neighbour, being that which
makes the first impression upon them, did whatever he could for the
well composing his exterior, keeping his gestures, motions, looks, and
all parts of his conversation in such a harmony, as he judged fitted to
draw his neighbour to God.
*2. He was very modest, always calm and inviolably equal. “Among all
the things I observed in M. _de Renty_, (says one of his intimate
friends) what first affected me was, his rare modesty and great
evenness of behaviour. There was something in his looks which carried
so much reverence in it one might easily judge, he was always actually
in the presence of God.”
3. In every condition or employment whatsoever, he was the same in his
looks, gestures, words and actions, whether alone or in company, with
rich or poor, strangers or friends, before his children or servants,
yea even before his footman, in the country or town, at the table, and
every where.
4. And such a constant equality was the more observable, because of
his natural disposition, which was not slow, heavy and phlegmatick, but
cholerick, hot and active. But the exact and perpetual care he had over
himself, had wholly inverted his nature, and brought him to a behaviour,
as well as temper, directly opposite to those he took from his mother’s
womb.
5. Another of his friends writes of him thus: “That which pleased me
most in him was, His great recollection and intimate union with God:
attended with such a wonderful peace of mind, as shone forth in his
countenance, and begot ♦a kind of devotion in his beholders. This union,
methought, was ever the same, without any sign of distraction or levity,
or any word not necessary, no complaisance or human regard ever forcing
him to scatter his spirit. Not but he was full of civility; but still
so as to look more within himself than without.”
♦ duplicate word “a” removed
6. And indeed this continual presence of God, so wholly took up his
spirit, that no unusual accident or object, or any thing rare or
extraordinary could divert him. I never saw him admire any thing in the
world, nor fix his ♦eyes upon any curiosity whatever. And his gait in
the streets was so recollected, modest and equal, without gazing on any
thing, that a man might see Jesus Christ was his way, his employment,
and his all.
♦ “eys” replaced with “eyes”
7. In his speech he was very resolved, by choice as well as by nature.
In whatever company it concerned him to speak, he did so in his course,
with a composed demeanor, and words few, but material. He was never
known forward or eager to speak, or in speaking to do it with a higher
tone than ordinary. If he gave an account of any business, he did it so
briefly, and in words so pertinent, that it was a very hard matter to
find one that spoke better, and yet less than he.
8. Things that were unprofitable, or the news of the times, were never
the subject of his discourse: but always something pertaining to the
kingdom of God. And when the conversation was diverted to worldly
things, he either took leave of the company or stole away without.
9. And when he talked even of good things, it was with care and
moderation: saying, “There was much need of sparingness and sobriety,
when we speak even of the things of God, lest it turn to no good
account: and that it was a great trouble to him, when among serious
persons to hear them often spend precious time in talking of virtue
at large, and to find them departing from such conferences, with dry,
empty, and dissipated spirits.”
10. As to conduct of business, his method was, seriously to consider
things, before any resolution, and if after his own sense was given, he
found another’s to be better he readily quitted his own. After he had
resolved, he was prompt, firm, and constant in the execution of it. But
sometimes, when he had gone through the difficulties of a design, he
left it to a friend to finish; not out of inconstancy, but to gain time
for undertaking more, as well as to avoid the honour of it.
11. In all affairs that concerned the service of God, he had an
immoveable constancy. And besides the force of his words, there
appeared in his face an extraordinary assurance, (though his ordinary
deportment was always sweet and quiet) which particularly appeared in
all meetings, whereby he manifested such a spirit that those who beheld
him, felt themselves struck with awful regard. His proposals generally
carried so much light and force in them, that all were constrained to
acquiesce in his determination. But if any disputed his reasons he knew
how to enforce them; and if they chanced to make another reply, (which
was a thing that exceeding rarely happened) he said not one word more,
but his very silence, and the steadiness of his countenance, restrained
any further dispute. The meeting ended, he would go to that person and
ask his pardon; informing him, “That what he aimed at, was, not to make
good his opinion but to advance the cause of God; in all other things
he was ready to yield to every one.”
*12. But of all things he took care, not to overcharge himself
with business, to the prejudice of his piety. He knew that outward
employments, even the most holy, may be hindrances to inward holiness.
Wherefore he was careful not to overburden himself with them, and
very vigilant, that they should not distract and dissipate him, nor
secularize his soul, but serve only as means to elevate and unite him
more to God.
*13. And God so blessed him therein, that in the multitude of business,
he was still in a continual recollection. A familiar friend asking him,
Whether in that throng of employments, he observed his usual two hours
of prayer; he answered, “When I can, I keep three hours, sometimes four
or five; but when occasion offers to serve my neighbour, I easily quit
them, for God of his mercy hath given me the grace, to be inseparably
with him, even in the crowd of business.” To the same purpose he writ
to his director; “I continue my devotion out of the time and place
of prayer, even in the midst of converse and business: and I tell
you sincerely, tho’ I perform every thing so ill, yet I find little
difference of times for prayer, being recollected continually.” And the
same might be gathered (as was observed before) from his modesty and
composed countenance, clearly evidencing, that his soul was wholly and
constantly in application to God, from whom he drew light and strength,
for the conduct of all his business. Of which he thus wrote to his
director; “My recollection hinders no business at all, but furthers
it. Without it I should have a sollicitous desire of doing all myself:
whereas I now act in a most calm way, in which I have no share; for
it is our Lord that doth all.” In another letter thus; “Finding myself
one day much burthened with variety of businesses, I had a desire to
draw off my mind wholly; and at the same instant it was done. Since
that time they create me no trouble, and I dispatch them more readily
without thinking of them. This grace hath been often renewed in me,
(although in several manners) which I acknowledge to be very great,
because it preserves me disengaged, even in the multiplicity of
business.”
*14. If after he had done his part, any design miscarried, he rested
well satisfied. On such an occasion he thus writ to a friend; “We
may take up good designs, and God often inspires them; yet when he
is pleased to permit a contrary event, we must adore his secret will,
which brings more of mercy in the crossing of them, than if they had
succeeded. We should always be jealous over our spirit, that it fix not
upon any thing.” And again, “Our Lord has his designs, which he effects
by such means as we would not at all make choice of: The reason is,
because he would break our wills, and abate our dependencies upon earth.
Therefore he often crosses our best undertakings, being more jealous of
the sacrifice of our hearts, than any thing else, how specious so ever.”
15. I cannot better conclude this chapter, than with a letter writ to
his director on this subject:
“For these three or four months I have been, as it were, continually
employed in outward works; as removing from place to place, new
building a church, taking care of the sick, reconciling differences,
conferring with all sorts of people. Yesterday hearing those words of
the gospel read, ‘Thou art troubled about many things,’ it was said
to my heart, ‘Thou art not troubled about many things,’ giving me to
understand, that the things we are employed upon, according to the
will of God, do not create us that trouble; and that _Martha_ was
not reproved for doing the work, but for doing it too sollicitously.
Our Saviour intimating to her, that no business should be done with
inordinate agitation of spirit. Since our great business is, to hear
the eternal word, and act nothing with disturbance, but all in peace
by his Spirit.”
*“I received hereby a great support in the performance of these petty
exterior offices, and made no difficulty at all to yield myself up to
this holily disordered divine order. At the same time I enjoyed such a
sensible impression of God, yet excelling all sense, that if I had been
thrown like a bowl, I could never have lost the sight of my God. Our
Lord turns this bowl in a strange manner, even as it pleaseth him. And
these several turnings are all for the soul’s advantage, whereby she is
fashioned for every occasion, that she may do nothing for or by herself;
but all for God, and according to him.
“I see likewise that one whom God employs in these low affairs, if
he follow them with the same fidelity, is as acceptable to God, as
one that is employed in the most noble functions. Will nothing please
you but to convert worlds? You shall be content to carry stones;
and sometimes to sit still and do nothing. You are then to offer the
sacrifice of patience. And I believe it is a thousand times more rare,
to find a soul thus faithful in patience, and content to do no more
than God would have him, than faithful in actions that appear abroad.
“I have one word more to tell you; which is, that I am really ashamed
and confounded, that I do no more for God: which indeed, with the sense
of my unfitness for any thing that is good, would work me much torment,
did I not consider, He is all-sufficient, and doth with us as he
pleaseth.”
CHAPTER X.
_Of his death._
1. ON the 11th of _April_, 1649, he found himself very ill, and having
concealed his sickness five days, was then constrained to take his
bed. He endured great pains all over his body, with which his mind
too was so much affected, that he profest, if God had not assisted
him against the ravings of his imagination, he should have spoken more
extravagancies than any madman. “There was much, he said, in such a
condition to humble him. But it was the duty of a sinner to honour God,
in all conditions wherein he should place him.”
2. During these great pains and torments, and during the whole course
of his sickness, his ordinary employment consisted in affectionate
elevations of his soul to God, in thoughts and words of blessing,
praise, and submission to whatsoever was laid upon him, and of meekness
and perfect obedience to all that attended, and had the care of him,
with such a humble and contented spirit, that he thought all well done,
though sometimes it was otherwise.
3. His patience never gave way to any complaint. And when his keeper,
who was of the hospital of charity, with whom he had visited so many
poor and sick, importuned him to declare his pain, *“O sister, said he,
how does the love of God wipe away all pain? The servants of God suffer
nothing.” Another friend asking, if his pain was not great? He answered,
no. The other replied, “He thought it was.” “It is true, saith he, that
I am much clogged with my disease; but I feel it not, because I do not
think of it.”
4. Being urged to take some sweet things, he refused, saying, “These
make little for life or for death.” Yet he refused not physic, but
took it with a chearful countenance, though it was very bitter, and
he had a great difficulty in swallowing. Indeed when one told him of
another medicine which had done great cures, he answered, “Patience is
a sovereign remedy,” intimating his unwillingness to try it. Yet when
it was brought, he took it without any reluctance.
5. His sickness increasing more and more, yet he never called for any
thing to refresh him: and when they had forced clean sheets upon his
bed, and a pillow, which he had before refused, he said, “Lo! Here lies
a gentleman at his ease.”
*6. Feeling some joy arise in him, upon the sight of a person of
his acquaintance, with whom he had held a strict correspondence in
spiritual things, who came out of the country on purpose to visit him:
he immediately repeated thrice over, with great fervour, “I desire
nothing more but God.”
7. Reflecting on the poor, the constant objects of his tenderest care,
he said to his lady, “I recommend the poor to you. Will not you have
a great care of them? You will perform it better than I. Fear nothing:
what you give to them, will not lessen the rest.”
8. The greatest part of the first week of his illness, and some part of
the second likewise, was spent by him in works of mercy, appointing of
alms, and giving orders for letters to be writ into several provinces,
about business of charity wherewith he stood charged, and whereof he
gave an exact account.
9. Many persons of quality coming to visit him, he received them with
much civility, but not without some concern, because most of those
visits drew on discourse of worldly things. “They come hither, said
he, to talk philosophy; of which I have no need.” And another time his
expression was,
“A Christian should talk little.”
*10. A lady of great piety coming to visit him said, “Sir, I would
with all my heart lay down my life to save yours.” He replied with a
chearful look, and eyes lifted up to heaven, “To die is not to be lost.
Our conversation and union will hereafter be more near and intimate.”
She said, “But, Sir, if it pleased God to restore your health, and
continue you longer with us; do not you desire it? St. _Martin_
desired to live upon these terms.” He answered, “O Madam, there is no
comparison between a saint and a sinner! The will of God be done.”
11. The third day of his sickness he desired his director might be sent
for. And being asked, if he found himself worse? He answered, “No; but
in a business of this consequence, it is not safe to delay, for fear of
a surprizal, the judgment and memory being both so subject to decay.”
The next day he made his confession, the day after he confessed again,
and almost every day till his death.
12. The pastor of his parish having administered to him the Holy
Communion, and observing his deep silence, not speaking one word; but
only with profound humility, “My God, my God, pardon me; I am a great
sinner!” He asked him the reason, why he spake so little, and did not
apply himself to those who were well-pleased to hear him? “It is not
fitting, said he, to speak in the presence of him whom I have received,
nor take up any room in those hearts, which ought to be filled only
with God.” He added, *“My spirit is now applied to that joy, which
a creature ought to have, to see himself upon the point of being
re-united to his first principle, and his last end.”
13. The same day after dinner, one told him, “It was fit to use some
diversion from his serious thoughts; the physicians judging his disease
to have much of melancholy in it.” To whom he replied, “I never had any
joy comparable to that I have felt this day.” He asked him, for what
cause? “To think, said he, that I am going to be united with my God.”
He added earnestly, “I desire to be dissolved, and to be with Christ.
The Spirit and the bride say, Come; and let him that heareth say, Come.
And he that thirsteth, Let him come. Behold I come quickly. Amen; Come
Lord Jesus!”
*14. About noon, he desired his window might be set open, that he might
behold the brightness of the day: which being done, he cried out, “O
bright day of eternity! How this sun-shine chears me! Helping me to
meditate on that day, which shall never have night!”
*15. The more his sickness increased, the more he strove to unite
himself to God by prayer, imitating his master, who in the strength
of his agony, prayed the more earnestly. And when the violence of his
disease so opprest him, that he had need of greater straining, to keep
his mind fixed upon God, he cried out,
“Courage, courage! Eternity is at hand!”
16. Many such speeches he uttered with incredible fervor, tho’ he could
not pronounce them distinctly, by reason of the extreme dryness of his
throat, occasioned by the fever. At last, stopping his speech, he fixed
his eyes stedfastly on heaven, for a quarter of an hour together, with
a smiling look, and full of reverence, as if he saw some extraordinary
sight. After which gathering all his strength, he sat up in his bed,
took off his cap, and holding it in his hand, said, (with words half
stifled in his throat, as well by the ardor of his spirit, as the
weakness of his body)
“I adore you, I adore you.”
17. The curate having used the service of the church, to which he
attended with great devotion, answering to every prayer, asked him,
if he would not give a blessing to his children? He answered, “How
so, good Sir, shall I presume to give a blessing in your presence? I
should be happy to receive one from you.” But being urged thereto, and
told the church allowed it, he lifted up his hands and eyes to heaven,
saying,
“May it please God to bless you and to preserve you by his grace from
the malignity of the world, that you may have no part therein! And
above all, my children, may you live in the fear and love of God, and
yield due obedience to your mother!”
18. On _Saturday_, about half an hour past ten in the forenoon, ♦being
just recovered out of a violent convulsion, looking attentively on
those that were present, he made signs with his hands, head, and eyes,
with a pleasant countenance, for an intimate friend to come near him.
Which being done, he said,
♦ “been” replaced with “being”
“Sir, I have one word to say to you before I die:” (then pausing a
little to recover his strength, he testified his affection to him, but
in words that could not distinctly be understood. At length raising his
voice, and speaking more articulately, he went on) “The perfection of
a Christian life, is to be united to God by faith. Let us not entangle
ourselves in novelties. Let us adore his conduct over us, and continue
faithful to him unto the end. Let us adhere to that one God, crucified
for our salvation. Let us unite all our actions, and all that is in us
to his merits; hoping that if we continue faithful to him by his grace,
we shall be partakers of the glory of his Father. I hope we shall there
see one another one day, which shall never have an end.”
19. Some time after, fixing his eyes upon heaven, he said, “The
holy Jesus, where is he?” They brought him his picture, which he
affectionately kissed. Then turning himself he presently entered his
last agony; which held about a quarter of an hour, the greatest part
of which he spent in pronouncing the name of Jesus; making as well as
he could, acts of resignation, and commending his spirit to God: After
which he expired sweetly, and his holy soul departed to its place of
rest.
20. Thus lived and died M. _de Renty_, one of the most glorious lights
God hath bestowed upon his church in our age. He died at _Paris_, in
the 37th year of his age, the 24th of _April_ 1649, about noon. We have
great reason to admire the secret counsels of God, in taking out of
the world, in the flower of his age, a man so qualified to advance the
honour of God, and the good of his neighbour. But when we say, it was
the hand of God, all things are therein concluded. Hereby he is pleased
to let us know, that he hath no need of us for the advancing his glory;
and that when he does use us as instruments therein, we ought to behave
with all humility in his presence. He hath translated him to another
place, where he glorifies his majesty with greater perfection; and
where he waits for us to glorify and love, together with him, God the
Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, to all eternity! _Amen!_
An EXTRACT from the
LIFE and DEATH of
THOMAS WALSH.
THE INTRODUCTION.
THE exceeding riches of the grace of God our Saviour, and the effectual
working of his mighty power, have in all ages shone most conspicuously
in the holy lives and exemplary conversation of his eminent servants,
_the excellent of the earth_, with whom are his peculiar delights.
And although, strictly speaking, He only is _wise_ and _good_,
nevertheless, there is a sense in which goodness is with propriety
ascribed both to angels and to men. This consists in their resemblance
of him who is the source and model of all goodness, holiness, and
perfection; as proceeding from his fulness, whence life and blessedness
flow to every creature, whether in heaven or in earth.
Of this kind the scriptures furnish us with several examples, _Abraham_,
_Enoch_, _Noah_, _Daniel_ and _Job_, (beside many others) are described
in the Old Testament, as men walking before God, and perfect in their
generation. And the eleventh chapter to the _Hebrews_ contains little
else than an account of ancient worthies, eminently remarkable for
their faith, sufferings, patience, and glorious end; who considering
themselves as strangers and pilgrims in this world, sought _a city
which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is_ God. And God,
saith the apostle, _hath provided some better things for us, that they
without us should not be made perfect_.
The time would fail to mention particularly the names of all the
eminently faithful, who have lived and adorned their profession, since
life and immortality have been brought to light by the gospel. They are
an innumerable company. It is enough for us to know, that if _any one
loveth_ God, _the same is known of him_. Their _names are written in
the Lamb’s book of life_, and shall at last be numbered amongst his
jewels.
When names, and sects, and parties fall,
And thou, O Christ, art all in all!
Among the number of persons eminent for their usefulness and personal
holiness, which the present generation has produced, he, a part of
whose life is here related, may justly be considered as one; and his
example is one, which in some respects may be said to have its peculiar
excellencies.
A circumstantial detail of such things as often find a place in this
kind of writings, namely, family, childhood, education, stature,
complexion, and a variety of common occurrences, is judged, as well
tedious as foreign to the design of the work, which is to represent,
principally what passed between God and his soul in the progress of his
conversation and daily walking with God.
And yet neither is intelligence of this sort wholly omitted; he
has left a few particulars relative thereto, which will enable the
reader to form some idea, as well of the former as latter part of his
pilgrimage.
His prayer was, ‘That this little book (meaning what is here called
the _first part_, great part of which he wrote himself) may be made a
blessing to all who shall read it; that the Lord Jesus may make it a
means of kindling holy desire in their souls, and of stirring them up
to the fear and love of God.’
PART the FIRST.
CHAPTER I.
_Of his birth and education._
THOMAS WALSH, was born in the year of our Lord 1730, at a place
called _Bally Linn_, in the county, and within about ten miles of
the city of _Limerick_ in _Ireland_. His father, _Edmund Walsh_, was
by occupation a carpenter, a man of tolerable education, and strong
natural understanding. His mother’s name was _Helena Nougham_, born of
reputable parents. They were both members of, and entirely biggotted to
the church of _Rome_.
When about eight years old, he was put to school to learn English (his
mother tongue was _Irish_.) Afterwards he went to school to one of his
brothers (of whom he had several) by whom he was initiated into the
_Latin_ tongue. Having acquired its rudiments in some tolerable degree,
he went afterwards into the neighbouring county of _Clare_, with a
design to be put apprentice, his friends intending him to be of his
father’s trade.
But God in his adorable providence and unsearchable wisdom, had, as the
event shewed, other designs concerning him. Disappointed therefore in
this he returned to school, and proceeded in his pursuit of learning;
applying himself at present to the study of _Latin_, which he had but
lately intermitted.
After he had made some considerable progress in this, he applied
himself to the study of some parts of the _mathematicks_, for which he
thought he had a better genius than for languages. He soon acquired the
knowledge of arithmetic, both vulgar and decimal, measuring superficies
and solids, &c. And afterwards went to the city of _Limerick_ in order
to perfect himself in writing.
And now having continued at school till about the nineteenth year of
his age, and having acquired such branches of literature as fitted him
for being useful to others in the same way: he quitted school, and set
up one for himself, wanting neither scholars nor ability to instruct
them, which he did with success, during the time he continued his
school.