THE VALUE OF SAINTLINESS
275
paper, asked him for a sheet, he did not feel free to give it to him
without first obtaining the permission of the superior, who, as such,
stood in the place of God, and transmitted his orders.
I can find no other sorts of fruit than these of Louis’s saint-
ship. He died in 1591, in his twenty-ninth year, and is known in
the Church as the patron of all young people. On his festival, the
altar in the chapel devoted to him in a certain church in Rome
“is embosomed in flowers, arranged with exquisite taste; and a pile
of letters may be seen at its foot, written to the Saint by young
men and women, and directed to “Paradiso.” They are supposed
to be burnt unread except by San Luigi, who must find singular
petitions in these pretty little missives, tied up now with a green
ribbon, expressive of hope, now with a red one, emblematic of
love,” etc.
1
Our final judgment of the worth of such a life as this will depend
largely on our conception of God, and of the sort of conduct he is
best pleased with in his creatures. The Catholicism of the sixteenth
century paid little heed to social righteousness; and to leave the
1
Mademoiselle Mori, a novel quoted in H
ARE
’s Walks in Rome, 1900, i. 55.
I cannot resist the temptation to quote from Starbuck’s book, p. 388, another case of
purification by elimination. It runs as follows: —
“The signs of abnormality which sanctified persons show are of frequent occurrence. They
get out of tune with other people; often they will have nothing to do with churches, which
they regard as worldly; they become hypercritical towards others; they grow careless of their
social, political, and financial obligations. As an instance of this type may be mentioned a
woman of sixty-eight of whom the writer made a special study. She had been a member of
one of the most active and progressive churches in a busy part of a large city. Her pastor
described her as having reached the censorious stage. She had grown more and more out of
sympathy with the church; her connection with it finally consisted simply in attendance at
prayer-meeting, at which her only message was that of reproof and condemnation of the
others for living on a low plane. At last she withdrew from fellowship with any church. The
writer found her living alone in a little room on the top story of a cheap boarding-house,
quite out of touch with all human relations, but apparently happy in the enjoyment of her
own spiritual blessings. Her time was occupied in writing booklets on sanctification — page
after page of dreamy rhapsody. She proved to be one of a small group of persons who claim
that entire salvation involves three steps instead of two; not only must there be conversion
and sanctification, but a third, which they call ‘crucifixion’ or ‘perfect redemption,’ and
which seems to bear the same relation to sanctification that this bears to conversion. She
related how the Spirit had said to her, ‘Stop going to church. Stop going to holiness meetings.
Go to your own room and I will teach you.’ She professes to care nothing for colleges, or
preachers, or churches, but only cares to listen to what God says to her. Her description of
her experience seemed entirely consistent; she is happy and contented, and her life is
entirely satisfactory to herself. While listening to her own story, one was tempted to forget
that it was from the life of a person who could not live by it in conjunction with her fellows.”
276
THE VARIETIES OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
world to the devil whilst saving one’s own soul was then accounted
no discreditable scheme. To-day, rightly or wrongly, helpfulness
in general human affairs is, in consequence of one of those secular
mutations in moral sentiment of which I spoke, deemed an essential
element of worth in character; and to be of some public or private
use is also reckoned as a species of divine service. Other early Jesuits,
especially the missionaries among them, the Xaviers, Brébeufs,
Jogues, were objective minds, and fought in their way for the world’s
welfare; so their lives to-day inspire us. But when the intellect, as
in this Louis, is originally no larger than a pin’s head, and cherishes
ideas of God of corresponding smallness, the result, notwithstand-
ing the heroism put forth, is on the whole repulsive. Purity, we see
in the object-lesson, is not the one thing needful; and it is better
that a life should contract many a dirt-mark, than forfeit usefulness
in its efforts to remain unspotted.
Proceeding onwards in our search of religious extravagance, we
next come upon excesses of Tenderness and Charity. Here saintli-
ness has to face the charge of preserving the unfit, and breeding
parasites and beggars. “Resist not evil,” “Love your enemies,” these
are saintly maxims of which men of this world find it hard to speak
without impatience. Are the men of this world right, or are the
saints in possession of the deeper range of truth?
No simple answer is possible. Here, if anywhere, one feels the
complexity of the moral life, and the mysteriousness of the way in
which facts and ideals are interwoven.
Perfect conduct is a relation between three terms: the actor, the
objects for which he acts, and the recipients of the action. In order
that conduct should be abstractly perfect, all three terms, intention,
execution, and reception, should be suited to one another. The
best intention will fail if it either work by false means or address
itself to the wrong recipient. Thus no critic or estimator of the value
of conduct can confine himself to the actor’s animus alone, apart
from the other elements of the performance. As there is no worse
lie than a truth misunderstood by those who hear it, so reasonable
arguments, challenges to magnanimity, and appeals to sympathy or
justice, are folly when we are dealing with human crocodiles and
boa-constrictors. The saint may simply give the universe into the
hands of the enemy by his trustfulness. He may by non-resistance
cut off his own survival.