FEATURES OF GREAT WORK BY OLD THOMAS A KEMPIS--MEDITATIONS
OF A FLEMISH MONK WHICH HAVE NOT LOST THEIR INFLUENCE
IN FIVE HUNDRED YEARS.
The great books of this world are not to be estimated by size or by the
literary finish of their style. Behind every great book is a man greater
than his written words, who speaks to us in tones that can be heard only
by those whose souls are in tune with his. In other words, a great book
is like a fine opera--it appeals only to those whose ears are trained to
enjoy the harmonies of its music and the beauty of its words. Such a
book is lost on one who reads only the things of the day and whose mind
has never been cultivated to appreciate the beauty of spiritual
aspiration, just as the finest strains of the greatest opera, sung by a
Caruso or a Calve, fail to appeal to the one who prefers ragtime to real
music.
[Illustration:
THOMAS A KEMPIS, THE FRONTISPIECE OF AN
EDITION OF "THE IMITATION OF CHRIST" PUBLISHED
BY SUTTABY AND COMPANY OF LONDON
AMEN CORNER, 1883]
In this world, in very truth, you reap what you sow. If you have made a
study of fine music, beautiful paintings and statuary and the best
books, you cannot fail to get liberal returns in the way of spiritual
enjoyment from the great works in all these arts. And this enjoyment is
a permanent possession, because you can always call up in memory and
renew the pleasure of a great singer's splendid songs, the strains of a
fine orchestra, the impassioned words of a famous actor, the glory of
color of an immortal painting, or the words of a poem that has lived
through the centuries and has stimulated thousands of readers to the
higher life.
One of the smallest of the world's famous books is _The Imitation of
Christ_ by Thomas a Kempis. It may be slipped into one's coat pocket,
yet this little book is second only to the Bible and Shakespeare in the
record of the souls it has influenced. It may be read in two hours, yet
every paragraph in it has the potency of spiritual life. Within the
cloister, where it was written, it has always been a favorite book of
meditation, surpassing in its appeal the _Confessions of St. Augustine_.
In the great world without, it has held its own for five hundred years,
gaining readers from all classes by sheer force of the sincerity and
power of the man, who put into it all the yearnings of his soul, all the
temptations, the struggles and the victories of his spirit. It was
written in crabbed Latin of the fifteenth century, without polish and
without logical arrangement, much as Emerson jotted down the thoughts
which he afterward gathered up and strung together into one of his
essays. Yet the vigor, truth, earnestness and spiritual passion of the
poor monk in his cell fused his language into flame that warms the
reader's heart after all these years.
Thomas a Kempis was plain Thomas Haemerken of Kempen, a small town near
Cologne, the son of a poor mechanic, who had the great advantage of a
mother of large heart and far more than the usual stock of book
learning. Doubtless it was through his mother that Thomas inherited his
taste for books and his desire to enter the church. He followed an elder
brother into the cloister, spending his novitiate of seven years at the
training school of the Brothers of the Common Life at Deventer, in the
Netherlands. Then he entered as postulant the monastery of Mount St.
Agnes, near Zwolle, of which his brother John was prior. This monastery
was ruled by the Canons Regular of St. Augustine, and it was filled by
the Brothers of the Common Life. For another seven years he studied to
fit himself for this life of the cloister, and finally he was ordained a
priest in 1413. As he entered upon his religious studies at the tender
age of 13, he had been employed for fourteen years in preparing himself
for his life work in the monastery.
The few personal details that have been handed down about him show that
he was of unusual strength, with the full face of the people of his
race, and that he kept until extreme old age the strength of his voice
and the fire of his eye. For sixty years he remained a monk, spending
most of his time in transcribing the Bible and devotional treatises and
in teaching the neophytes of his own community. His devotion to books
was the great passion of his life and doubtless reconciled a man of so
much native strength of body and mind to the monotony of the cloister.
His favorite motto was: "Everywhere have I sought for peace, but nowhere
have I found it save in a quiet corner with a little book." The ideal of
the community was to live as nearly as possible the life of the early
Christians. The community had the honor of educating Erasmus, the most
famous scholar of the Reformation.
Thomas a Kempis drew most of the inspiration for _The Imitation of
Christ_ from the Bible, and especially from the New Testament. The book
is a series of eloquent variations on the great central theme of making
one's life like that of Christ on earth. And with this monk, who lived
in a community where all property was shared in common and where even
individual earnings must be put into the general fund, this idea of
reproducing the life of Christ was feasible. Cut off from all close
human ties, freed from all thought of providing for food and shelter,
the monastic life in a community like that of the Brothers of the Common
Life was the nearest approach to the ideal spiritual existence that this
world has ever seen. To live such a life for more than the ordinary span
of years was good training for the production of the _Imitation_, the
most spiritual book of all the ages.
Every page of this great book reveals that the author had made the Bible
a part of his mental possessions. So close and loving had been this
study that the words of the Book of Books came unwittingly to his lips.
All his spiritual experiences were colored by his Biblical studies; he
rests his faith on the Bible as on a great rock which no force of nature
can move. So in the _Imitation_ we have the world of life and thought as
it looked to a devout student of the Bible, whose life was cut off from
most of the temptations and trials of men, yet whose conscience was so
tender that he magnified his doubts and his failings.
Over and over he urges upon his readers to beware of pride, to cultivate
humility, to keep the heart pure and the temper meek, so that happiness
may come in this world and the assurance of peace in the world to come.
Again and again he appeals to us not to set our hearts upon the
treasures of this world, as they may fail us at any time, while the love
of worldly things makes the heart callous and shuts the door on the
finest aspirations of the soul.
In every word of this book one feels the sincerity of the man who wrote
it. The monk who jotted down his thoughts really lived the life of
Christ on earth. He gained fame for his learning, his success as a
teacher and his power as a writer of religious works; but at heart he
remained as simple, sincere and humble as a little child. All his
thoughts were devoted to gaining that perfection of character which
marked the Master whom he loved to imitate; and in this book he pours
out the longings that filled his soul and the joys that follow the
realization of a good and useful life. In all literature there is no
book which so eloquently paints the success of forgetting one's self in
the work of helping others.
The _Imitation_, like the Bible, should be read day by day, if one is to
draw aid and inspiration from it. Read two or three pages each day, and
you will find it a rare mental tonic, so foreign to all present-day
literature, that its virtues will stand out by comparison. Read it with
the desire to feel as this old monk felt in his cell, and something of
his rare spirit will come to you, healing your grief, opening your eyes
to the many chances of doing good that lie all about you, cleansing your
heart of envy, greed, covetousness and other worldly desires. Here are
a few passages of the _Imitation_, selected at random, which will serve
to show the thought and style of the book:
"Many words do not satisfy the soul; but a good life giveth
ease to the mind, and a pure conscience inspireth great
confidence in God.
"That which profiteth little or nothing we heed, and that
which is especially necessary we lightly pass over, because
the whole man doth slide into outward things, and unless he
speedily recovereth himself he willingly continueth immersed
therein.
"Here a man is defiled by many sins, ensnared by many
passions, held fast by many fears, racked by many cares,
distracted by many curiosities, entangled by many vanities,
compassed about with many errors, worn out with many labors,
vexed with temptations, enervated by pleasures, tormented with
want. When shall I enjoy true liberty without any hindrances,
without any trouble of mind or body?"
Many famous writers have borne testimony to the great influence of _The
Imitation of Christ_ upon their spiritual development. Matthew Arnold
often refers to the work of Thomas a Kempis, as do Ruskin and others.
Comte made it a part of his Positivist ritual, and General Gordon, that
strange soldier of fortune, who carried with him what he believed to be
the wood of the true cross, and who represented the ideal mystic in this
strenuous modern life, had _The Imitation of Christ_ in his pocket on
the day that he fell under the spears of the Mahdi's savage fanatics at
Khartoum. Perhaps the most eloquent tribute to the power of the
_Imitation_ is found in George Eliot's novel, _The Mill on the Floss_.
The great novelist makes Maggie Tulliver find in the family garret an
old copy of the _Imitation_. Then she says:
"A strange thrill of awe passed through Maggie while she read, as if she
had been wakened in the night by a strain of solemn music, telling of
beings whose souls had been astir, while hers was in a stupor. She knew
nothing of doctrines and systems, of mysticism or quietism; but this
voice of the far-off ages was the direct communication of a human soul's
belief and experience, and came to Maggie as an unquestioned message.
And so it remains to all time, a lasting record of human needs and human
consolations; the voice of a brother who ages ago felt and suffered and
renounced, in the cloister; perhaps, with serge gown and tonsured head,
with a fashion of speech different from ours, but under the same silent,
far-off heavens, and with the same passionate desires, the same
stirrings, the same failures, the same weariness."
Many editions of _The Imitation of Christ_ have been issued, but for one
who wishes to make it a pocket companion none is better than the little
edition in The Macmillan Company's _Pocket Classics_, edited by Brother
Leo, professor of English literature in St. Mary's College, Oakland.
This accomplished priest has written an excellent introduction to the
book, in which he sketches the life of the old monk, the sources of his
work and the curious controversy over its authorship which raged for
many years. Buy this inexpensive edition and study it, and then, if you
come to love old Thomas, get an edition that is worthy of his sterling
merit.