Chapter One: The Commencement
of Conforming
the Human Will to the Divine
THERE
was once upon a time an eminent Divine who for eight years besought God
with unwearied prayers to show him a man by whom he might be taught the
most direct way to Heaven. One day, when he was possessed of an
unconquerable desire to converse with such a man, and wished for
nothing so much as to see a teacher of truth so hidden, he thought that
he heard a voice coming to him from Heaven, which gave him this command:-----"Go
to the porch of the church, and you will find the man you seek."
Accordingly
he went into the street, and at the door of the church he found a
beggar whose legs were covered with ulcers running with corruption, and
whose clothes were scarcely worth three pence. The Divine wished him
good day. To whom the beggar replied,-----"I do not remember that I
ever had a bad one." Whereupon the man of letters, as if to amend his
former salutation, said,-----"Well,
then, God send you good fortune." "But I never had any bad fortune,"
answered the beggar. The Divine was astonished at this reply, but
repeated his wish, in case he might have made a mistake in what he
heard, only in somewhat different words:-----"Say you so? I pray, then,
that you may be happy." But again the beggar replied,-----"I
never was unhappy." The Divine, thinking that the beggar was playing
upon words merely for the sake of talking, answered, in order to try
the man's wit,-----"I
desire that whatever you wish may happen to you." "And here, also," he
replied, "I have nothing to complain of. All things turn out according
to my wishes, although I do not attribute my success to fortune."
Upon this the man of
letters, saluting him afresh, and taking his leave, said:-----"May
God preserve you, my good man, since you hate fortune! But tell me, I
pray, are you alone happy among mortals who suffer calamity? If so, Job
speaks safely when he declares,-----'Man
born of a woman, living for a short time, is filled with many
miseries.' [Job XIV. 1] And how comes it that you alone have escaped
all evil days? I do not fully understand your feelings." To this the
beggar replied,-----"It
is so, sir, as I have said. When you wished me a 'good day,' I denied
that I had ever had a bad one. I am perfectly contented with the lot
which God has assigned me in this world. Not to want happiness is my
happiness. Those bugbears, Fortune and Misfortune, hurt him only who
wills, or at least fears, to be hurt by them. Never do I offer my
prayers to Fortune, but to my Heavenly Father Who disposes the events
of all things. And so I say I never was unhappy, inasmuch as all things
turn out according to my wishes. If I suffer hunger, I praise my most
provident Father for it. If cold pinches me, if the rain pours down
upon me, or if the sky inflicts upon me any other injury, I praise God
just the same. When I am a laughing-stock to others, I no less praise
God. For sure I am that God is the Author of all these things, and that
whatever God does must be the best. Therefore, whatever God either
gives, or allows to happen, whether it be pleasant or disagreeable,
sweet or bitter, I esteem alike, for all such things I joyfully receive
as from the hand of a most loving Father; and this one thing I will-----what
God wills. And so all things happen as I will. Miserable is the man who
believes that Fortune has any power against him; and truly unhappy is
he who dreams of some imaginary unhappiness in this world. This is true
happiness in this life, to cleave as closely as possible to the Divine
Will. The Will of God, His most excellent, His most perfect Will, which
cannot be made more perfect, and cannot be evil, judges concerning all
things, but nothing concerning it. To follow this Will I bestow all my
care. To this one solicitude I devote myself with all my might, so that
whatever God wills, this I also may never refuse to will. And,
therefore, I by no means consider myself unhappy, since I have so
entirely transfused my own will into the Divine, that with me there is
no other will or not will than as God wills or wills
not."
"But
do you really mean what you say?" asked the Divine; "tell me, I pray,
whether you would feel the same if God had decreed to cast you down to
Hell?" To which the beggar at once replied,-----"If
He should cast me down to Hell? But know that I have two arms of
wondrous strength, and with these I should hold Him tightly in an
embrace that nothing could sever. One arm is the lowliest humility
shown by the oblation of self, the other, purest charity shown by the
love of God. With these arms I would so entwine myself round God, that
wherever He might banish me, thither would I draw Him with me. And far
more desirable, in truth, would it be to be out of Heaven with God,
than in Heaven without Him." The Divine was astonished at this reply,
and began to think with himself that this was the shortest path to God.
But he
felt anxious to make further inquiry, and to draw forth into sight the
wisdom which dwelt in such an ill-assorted habitation; and so he asked,-----"Whence have you come
hither?" "I came from God," replied the beggar. To whom again the
Divine,-----"And where did you find
God?" "Where I forsook all created things." Again the Divine asked,-----"But
where did you leave God?" "In men of pure minds and goodwill," replied
the poor man. "Who are you?" said the Divine. "Whoever I am," he
replied, "I am so thoroughly contented with my lot that I would not
change it for the riches of all kings. Every one who knows how to rule
himself is a king." "Am I, then, to understand that you are a king?"
said the other. "Where is your kingdom?" "There," said the beggar, and
at the same time pointed with his finger towards Heaven. "He is a king
to whom that kingdom on high is transferred by sure deeds of covenant."
At last the Divine, intending to bring his questions to an end, said,-----"Who has taught you this?
Who has instilled these feelings into you?" To which the other replied,-----"I
will tell you, Sir. For whole days I do not speak, and then I give
myself up entirely to prayer or holy thoughts, and this is my only
anxiety, to be as closely united as possible to God. Union and familiar
acquaintance with God and the Divine Will teach all this."
The
Theologian wished to ask more questions, but thinking it would be
better to postpone this to another time, took his leave for the
present. As he went away, full of thought, he said to himself,-----"Lo!
thou hast found one who will teach thee the shortest way to God! How
truly does S. Augustine [Conf.
VIII. 8] say,-----'The
unlearned start up and take Heaven by violence, and we with our
learning, and without heart, Lo! where we wallow in flesh and blood!'
And so Christ, when giving thanks says,-----'I
confess to thee, O Father, Lord of Heaven and earth, because Thou hast
hid these things from the wise and prudent, and has revealed them unto
babes.' [Matt. XI. 25] Beneath a filthy garment, forsooth, great wisdom
often lies concealed. And who would think of seeking for such Divine
learning in a man of so mean an appearance? Who would believe that so
much of the Spirit was hidden under such unlettered simplicity? Lo!
those two arms of unconquerable strength, Oblation of Self and Love of
God, draw God whithersoever this poor man wills! With these arms God
permits Himself to be closely bound; other embraces He refuses."