SAINTLINESS
251
thee? For I have nobody to teach me. Speak to my soul and it will hear
thee.’ At that instant she heard, as if another had spoke within her:
Forsake all earthly things. Separate thyself from the love of the creatures. Deny
thyself. She was quite astonished, not understanding this language, and
mused long on these three points, thinking how she could fulfill them.
She thought she could not live without earthly things, nor without loving
the creatures, nor without loving herself. Yet she said, ‘By thy Grace I will
do it, Lord!’ But when she would perform her promise, she knew not
where to begin. Having thought on the religious in monasteries, that they
forsook all earthly things by being shut up in a cloister, and the love of
themselves by subjecting of their wills, she asked leave of her father to
enter into a cloister of the barefoot Carmelites, but he would not permit
it, saying he would rather see her laid in her grave. This seemed to her a
great cruelty, for she thought to find in the cloister the true Christians she
had been seeking, but she found afterwards that he knew the cloisters
better than she; for after he had forbidden her, and told her he would
never permit her to be a religious, nor give her any money to enter there,
yet she went to Father Laurens, the Director, and offered to serve in the
monastery and work hard for her bread, and be content with little, if he
would receive her. At which he smiled and said: That cannot be. We must
have money to build; we take no maids without money; you must find the way
to get it, else there is no entry here.
“This astonished her greatly, and she was thereby undeceived as to the
cloisters, resolving to forsake all company and live alone till it should please
God to show her what she ought to do and whither to go. She asked always
earnestly, ‘When shall I be perfectly thine, O my God?’ And she thought
he still answered her, When thou shalt no longer possess anything, and shalt
die to thyself. ‘And where shall I do that, Lord?’ He answered her,
In the
desert. This made so strong an impression on her
soul that she aspired after
this; but being a maid of eighteen years only, she was afraid of unlucky
chances, and was never used to travel, and knew no way. She laid aside all
these doubts and said, ‘Lord, thou wilt guide me how and where it shall
please thee. It is for thee that I do it. I will lay aside my habit of a maid,
and will take that of a hermit that I may pass unknown.’ Having then
secretly made ready this habit, while her parents thought to have married
her, her father having promised her to a rich French merchant, she pre-
vented the time, and on Easter evening, having cut her hair, put on the
habit, and slept a little, she went out of her chamber about four in the
morning, taking nothing but one penny to buy bread for that day. And it
being said to her in the going out, Where is thy faith? in a penny? she threw
it away, begging pardon of God for her fault, and saying, ‘No, Lord, my
faith is not in a penny, but in thee alone.’ Thus she went away wholly
252
THE VARIETIES OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
delivered from the heavy burthen of the cares and good things of this
world, and found her soul so satisfied that she no longer wished for any-
thing upon earth, resting entirely upon God, with this only fear lest she
should be discovered and be obliged to return home; for she felt already
more content in this poverty than she had done for all her life in all the
delights of the world.”
1
The penny was a small financial safeguard, but an effective
spiritual obstacle. Not till it was thrown away could the character
settle into the new equilibrium completely.
Over and above the mystery of self-surrender, there are in the
cult of poverty other religious mysteries. There is the mystery of
veracity: “Naked came I into the world,” etc., — whoever first said
that, possessed this mystery. My own bare entity must fight the battle
— shams cannot save me. There is also the mystery of democracy,
or sentiment of the equality before God of all his creatures. This
sentiment (which seems in general to have been more widespread
in Mohammedan than in Christian lands) tends to nullify man’s
usual acquisitiveness. Those who have it spurn dignities and honors,
privileges and advantages, preferring, as I said in a former lecture,
to grovel on the common level before the face of God. It is not
exactly the sentiment of humility, though it comes so close to it
in practice. It is humanity, rather, refusing to enjoy anything that
others do not share. A profound moralist, writing of Christ’s saying,
‘Sell all thou hast and follow me,’ proceeds as follows: —
1
An Apology for M. Antonia Bourignon, London, 1699, pp. 269, 270, abridged.
Another example from Starbuck’s MS. collection: —
“At a meeting held at six the next morning, I heard a man relate his experience. He said:
The Lord asked him if he would confess Christ among the quarrymen with whom he worked,
and he said he would. Then he asked him if he would give up to be used of the Lord the four
hundred dollars he had laid up, and he said he would, and thus the Lord saved him. The
thought came to me at once that I had never made a real consecration either of myself or of
my property to the Lord, bat had always tried to serve the Lord in my way. Now the Lord
asked me if I would serve him in his way, and go out alone and penniless if he so ordered.
The question was pressed home, and I must decide: To forsake all and have him, or have all
and lose him! I soon decided to take him; and the blessed assurance came, that he had taken
me for his own, and my joy was full. I returned home from the meeting with feelings as
simple as a child. I thought all would be glad to bear of the joy of the Lord that possessed me,
and so I began to tell the simple story. But to my great surprise, the pastors (for I attended
meetings in three churches) opposed the experience and said it was fanaticism, and one told
the members of his church to shun those that professed it, and I soon found that my foes
were those of my own household.”