A Golden Treatise of Mental Prayer by St. Peter Alacantara

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A MEDITATION FOR FRIDAY

This day thou shalt meditate upon the torments of bell, that duly pondering them, thou may est have more awe of Almighty God, and a greater hatred of sin. St. Bonaventure teacheth, that these torments are to be considered according to certain similitudes set down by holy men, concerning this matter. Wherefore, it will not be beside our purpose (as the same Doctor, in the same place saith,) to imagine hell a horrible confused chaos, a lake under the earth, a deep fiery dungeon; or as a spacious city, dark and terrible, burning with obscure and fearful tire, filled with wailings, howlings, weeping, for the inexplicable pains.

In this miserable and unhappy place, are two kinds of torments, poena sensus, et poena damni, the punishment of sense, and the punishment of loss of Almighty God.

Consider that there is no outward or inward sense of the damned, which is not afflicted with a proper torment; for as the damned, in all their members and senses, have offended God, using them as instruments and weapons whereby, neglecting the society and law of God, they served sin, so the divine justice hath ordained that every sense, according to their desert, should be tormented with a proper punishment; the wanton and lascivious eyes, shall be tortured with the hideous aspect of devils. The ears which were open to lies, detractions, and other impurities, shall ring with unwonted clamors, outcries, and blasphemies. The noses which were delighted with sweet odors shall be poisoned with an intolerable stink. The taste which was glutted with dainty fare, shall be tormented with intolerable hunger and thirst. The tongue which uttered detractions and murmurings, shall drink the gall of dragons. The wanton, which gave consent to their brutish desires, shall be frozen with extreme cold, and as holy Job saith:[1] "Ad nimium calorem transeat ab aquis nivium:" " Let him pass from the snow waters to excessive heat."

The interior senses also shall not want their torments, the imagination shall not be tormented with the apprehension of present pains, the memory with the calling to mind of forepast pleasures, the understanding with the fear of future griefs, the will with an incredible hatred and raging towards God.

There, as St. Gregory saith, shall be intolerable cold, unquenchable fire, a never dying worm, a stench which none is able to endure, horrid darkness, grievous whippings, visages of devils, confusion of sinners, and desperation of all good.

Tell me, I pray thee, couldst thou endure one little moment the least part of these torments? surely it would be very grievous, if not intolerable for thee. What then will it be to suffer this whole inundation of evils, at one time in all thy members and senses, external and internal, not one or a thousand nights, but for all eternity? What sense, what tongue, what mind of man is able to conceive or express these things?

Neither are these the greatest torments the damned suffer. There remaineth yet a more grievous, which the divines do call the punishment of loss, which consisteth in the perpetual privation of the beatifical vision of God and his saints, and of all that glorious and blessed society. For that is the greatest torment that depriveth man of the most excellent good. Seeing, therefore, that God is that effectual and chief good of all goods, to be deprived of him wust needs be the greatest of all evils.

These are the general torments of the damned; besides these, there are other particular torments, wherewith every one according to their sins are afflicted. The proud, the envious, the covetous, the luxurious, and other vicious have their peculiar torments; the measure of pain there, shall be proportionable to their glory and pleasure here; poverty and want to plenty, hunger and thirst to gluttony and to former delights.

To all these aforesaid torments, eternity is yet to be added, which is, as it were, the seal and key of all the rest; for if at length they should have an end, they were some way tolerable. That which is restrained to a certain time cannot be so insufferable; but this punishment is everlasting, without solace, without relaxation, without diminution, where remaineth no hope of an end of their torments, or tormentors, or themselves that suffer them, but is, as it were, a perpetual and irrevocable banishment, never to be recalled, which is a thing of importance to be noted, that the mind may be stirred up thereby, to that saving fear and love of God.

From the eternity of torments proceedeth that great hatred wherewith they are incensed against God. Hence proceed these horrible blasphemies and curses, which with their impure mouths they rail at God, saying, cursed be God who hath created us, and hath condemned us to an everlasting death, which doth so oppress and torment us, that notwithstanding never killeth. Cursed be his power, which doth so grievously afflict us. Cursed be his wisdom, that hath laid open all our wickedness. Cursed be his justice, that hath exacted eternal punishment for temporal sins. Cursed be his cross, which hath not benefitted us. Cursed be his blood, that was shed, seeing it requireth revenge against us. Cursed be the Mother of God, who although she be pious and propitious to all, yet notwithstanding hath showed herself to us cruel and unmerciful. Cursed be all the saints of God reigning with Christ, and rejoicing at our miseries.

These are the hymns, this is that harsh melody, which the damned do continually jar, railing at the Almighty God with detested blasphemies for all eternity.


1. Job v 24

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A MEDITATION FOR SATURDAY

This day thou shalt meditate upon the glory of the saints of God, which may more eagerly inflame thy soul, to contemn the vanities of this world, and aspire to that eternal felicity.

To the end thou mayest get a better knowledge and gust of this inestimable glory, consider these five things. First, the excellency of the place. Secondly, the joy of that society. Thirdly, the vision of God. Fourthly, the glory of their bodies. Fifthly, the complete perfection of all abundant good.

In the excellency of the place, take notice of the admirable and wonderful spaciousness of it; in approved authors thou readest, that the least of the fixed stars of heaven, is bigger than the whole earth, and some of them do exceed the earth two or three hundred times in bigness. Then cast up thine eyes to heaven, and consider the innumerable multitude of them in the firmament, and thou shalt see a great deal of void space, where many more may be placed, how canst thou then but be astonished at the greatness of so rare a fabric.

Then consider the beauty of that place, which no tongue is able to express, for if Almighty God, in this place of banishment and vale of misery, hath made many things of admirable and comely hue; of what great beauty, and how much adorned dost thou think that place to be, which God would have to be the ordinary seat of his glory, the palace of his majesty, the mansion of the elect, and the paradise of all pleasure?

After the beauty of the place, consider the nobility of the inhabitants, whose number, sanctity, riches, and glory, are far beyond our imagination. St. John saith, the multitude are so great that they are innumerable. St. Dionysius affirmeth, that the multitude of angels do far exceed the number of sublunary creatures. Whom St. Thomas following, thinketh, that as the heavens by many degrees exceed the bigness of the earth, being but, as it were, a point of them; so proportionably the glorious spirits therein contained, do surpass all earthly things. What can be thought more admirable? assuredly this well pondered would make a man lose himself in the abyss of Almighty God's goodness.

Yea, without comparison every one of these blessed spirits is far more beautiful to the eye than all this visible world. Oh, what would it be to contemplate the incomprehensible number of so rare and glorious spirits, and to understand their several offices and perfections? — How the angels bring messages; how the archangels minister; how the principalities triumph; how the powers rejoice; how the dominations bear sway; how the virtues shine; how the thrones do glitter; how the cherubim do illuminate; how the seraphim do burn with love; and finally, how all with one unanimous consent, do praise Almighty God.

If the conversation and fellowship of good men be so delightful, what pleasure will it be, to be associated with so great a multitude of saints? — to be conversant with the Apostles, to talk with the prophets, to discourse with martyrs, and to enjoy the blessed familiarity of all the elect? Oh, but what will it be to enjoy his presence whom the morning stars do magnify? — whose beauty the sun and moon admire; before whom the holy angels and all the celestial spirits do prostrate themselves. That summum bonum, that infinite good, which in itself comprehendeth all good whatsoever; oh, what content will the heart of man feel, to behold him, who is one and all: who although he be most simple without composition, yet containeth in himself the perfections of all things created. What can the heart of man desire greater?

If it were so much to see and hear king Solomon, that the queen of Saba coming from far remote parts, moved with his great wisdom, should say, "Beati viri tui, et beati servi tui, qui slant coram te semper et audiunt sapientiam tuam:"[1] " Blessed are thy men, and blessed are thy servants, who stand before thee always and hear thy wisdom." What would it be to behold that true Solomon, that eternal wisdom, that immense majesty, that inestimable beauty, that infinite goodness? and, which is more, to enjoy him for all eternity.

This is the essential and truest glory of the saints; this is the last end and centre of all our wishes. Consider, moreover, the glory of their bodies, which shall be beautified with these four gifts: subtility, agility, impassibility, and clarity; which will be so great, that every one of the elect, as our blessed Saviour saith, shall glitter like the sun in the kingdom of his father.

If one only sun doth so rejoice and illuminate this universe, what dost thou think so many brighter suns will do, which shall there shine?

What should I speak of other joys which there shall be? health without infirmity, liberty without violence, beauty without deformity, immortality without corruption, abundance without want, rest without trouble, security without fear, riches without poverty, joy without sorrow, honor without contradiction. There, as St. Augustine saith, shall be true glory, when every one shall be commended without error or flattery. True honor shall be denied to none that is worthy of it, and it shall be given to none unworthy, neither shall any unworthy attempt it there, where none shall be permitted but the worthy. There shall be true peace, where they shall suffer no contradiction from themselves or others; the reward of virtue shall be he which gave virtue. And he hath promised to give himself, than which nothing can be better, or greater. For what other thing is it, that he spake by the prophet: "Ero illormn Deus, et ipsi erunt mihi plebs:" " I will be their God, and they shall be my people." If I do not, who is it that can satiate their souls? I will be that good which can possibly be desired of man, their life, their peace, their honor. For so is that understood which the Apostle speaketh: "Ut sit Dens in omnibus:" " that God be in all." He shall be the end of all our desires, which shall be contemplated without end, shall be loved without tediousness, shall be praised without ceasing.

The place of the saints, if thou dost behold the spaciousness of it, it shall be most ample , if the beauty, most delicious; if the splendor, most exceedingly bright. There shall be admirable delightful society, no vicissitude of times, the day shall not succeed the night, nor the night the day, but all time shall be there alike. There shall be one perpetual spring, which the Holy Ghost, with a wonderful temper, shall always make green and flourishing; there shall all celebrate everlasting holidays, rejoicing with unspeakable gladness; there shall all sound their instruments of music and sing praises to him, by whose power they live and reign for all eternity.

O celestial city, secure habitation, palace flowing with all delights, people without murmuring, quiet citizens, men without poverty. Oh, that I may at length enjoy thee. Oh, that the days of my banishment were ended. When will that joyful day come? When shall I go out of this mortality? When shall I come and appear before thy face, O God.


1. 3 Kings x 8

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A MEDITATION FOR SUNDAY

This day thou shalt spend in recogitating Almighty God's benefits, that thou mayest be grateful to him for the same, and thy heart inflamed with the love of him, that hath heaped so many favors upon thee; which seeing they be innumerable, thou shalt take four of the chief to thy consideration, which are, the benefits of thy creation, preservation, redemption, and vocation, besides particular benefits specially bestowed upon thee.

Touching the benefit of thy creation, examine diligently what thou wert before, what God hath given thee when thou hadst no precedent merits. Behold thy comely body well composed of its members and senses; look upon thy noble soul, beautified with these excellent faculties, the understanding, will, and memory.

Remember, that when he gave thee thy soul, he gave thee all things, seeing there is no perfection in any creature, which is not found more excellent in the soul of man. Hence it manifestly followeth, that when God bestowed this great benefit upon thee, he with it bestowed what else soever thou hast.

Concerning the benefit of thy conservation and preservation, consider, that all thy being dependeth upon the divine providence and disposure, without which, thou canst not move a foot, or subsist the least moment of time. Moreover, for thy use he hath created the whole universal world, and all things therein contained; the earth, the sea, birds, fishes, beasts, plants, nay the very angels themselves he hath ordained to do thee service. Consider thy health, the strength of limbs, and thy very life itself, which thou enjoyest, to be the great benefits of Almighty God, who, by daily nourishment and other temporal helps, conserveth all these in their proper vigor. Observe the miseries and tribulations unto which other mortal men are subject, into which, as others, thou hadst easily fallen, had not the divine goodness protected thee.

In the benefit of thy redemption, consider the abundant good, both in quantity and quality, which he hath purchased to thee by it.

Then call to mind the bitterness of his torments, which he suffered in soul and body to ease thee; and that the acknowledgment of these favors may take a greater impression in thee, in the mystery of his passion take notice of these four things. First, who is it that suffereth; secondly, what he suffered; thirdly, for whom he suffered; fourthly, why he suffered.

He that suffered, was God; what he suffered, were the most grievous torments, and such that never any mortal man did endure the like.

For whom? for most ungrateful creatures, cursed and worthy of hell fire.

Why? not for any commodity or profit of his own, or that we had merited so much by our precedent merits, but only moved to it by his infinite love and bounty towards us.

Concerning the benefit of thy vocation, consider the grace he gave thee, when he infused into thee the Christian faith, by the receiving of baptism and other sacraments, when he did enrol thee in the book of his eternity amongst faithful souls. If, after thy first vocation, when by sin thou hadst lost the innocence of baptism, he hath drawn thee again out of the mire of thy own corruption, restored thee to grace, and brought thee back again into the way of thy own salvation. What thanksgiving oughtest thou to render unto him for so great a benefit? How great was his mercy to thee, that with longanimity he expected so many years; that be permitted thee to spend thy days in so great impurity of wickedness; that he hath often visited thee with good and holy inspirations; that he did not cut off the thread of thy perverse life, as he served others in the same place; to conclude, that he called thee with such efficacious grace, that he restored thee from death to life, and opened thine eyes to contemplate his clear light? How great was his clemency towards thee, that he supported thee with his grace, not to return back again to thy former sins, but to overcome the enemies of mankind, and constantly to persevere in a virtuous cause.

These are the common benefits. Besides these, there are many secret ones, known to none but those that receive them, and others, which, indeed, are not clearly known unto themselves, but only to him that bestowed them. How often for thy pride, arrogance, ingratitude, and sloth, hast thou deserved to be left of God, as many for less causes have been? Yet, notwithstanding, he would not? How often hath God, with his singular providence, exempted thee from evil, removed occasions of offending, broken the snare that the enemy had laid for thy perdition, hath frustrated his expectation, and would not permit that his counsels and machinations should prevail against thee? How often hath he done to us as he did to St. Peter in the gospel; [1]"Ecce Satayias expelwit xos, lit criharet sicut triticum: Ego autem rogavi pro te ut nan deficiat fides tua:" "Behold Satan hath desired to have you that he may sift you as wheat, but I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not." And who can know these secret benetits but God alone? benefits which are palpable, are easy to be seen, but those which are private, consisting in the working of good, or preventing of ill, the mind of man cannot perfectly comprehend. Wherefore, it is meet and convenient to reason, that we should render immortal thanks to God, for all these benefits, and confess ingenuously, that we have received more than we are able to restore, and that our obligations towards him are so great, that with any goods of ours we shall never live to requite them, when we cannot so much as number or comprehend them in our understanding.

CHAPTER III. OF THE TIME AND FRUIT OF THESE MEDITATIONS.

Behold, Christian reader, thou hast seven former meditations, accommodated to every day of the week; not so that it is an offence to meditate upon another matter; when, as we said before, whatsoever inflameth the heart to the love and fear of God, and to the keeping of his commandments, may profitably be assumed for matter of meditation. We, therefore, out of so great a number, have selected these, both for that they contain the chief mysteries of our faith, and that in them is force and efficacy, to rouse up our souls to the love and fear of God: as also to set before novices, which have need of a guide, prepared and, as it were, fore-chewed matter, lest they confusedly wander up and down in this spacious field, without any certainty, now meditating upon one thing, and presently on another.

Moreover, these meditations, as we have said elsewhere, suit best with those who do begin to turn from Almighty God from their wicked courses. For these had need to be helped by the consideration of these things, to the detestation and horror of sin, the fear of God, the contempt of the world, which are, as it were, the first steps to the amendment of our former perverse life; therefore, it is good, that they should sometimes insist in them, that they may have the better foundation for other ensuing virtues.

SEVEN OTHER MEDITATIONS OF THE PASSION OF OUR LORD,

AND THE MANNER HOW IT OUGHT TO BE MEDITATED UPON.

CHAPTER IV.

Here follow seven other meditations of the passion of Christ, his resurrection, and ascension into heaven; to which, others of his holy life may well be added.

But we must note, that in the passion of our blessed Saviour, six things chiefly are to be meditated upon. First, the bitterness of his sorrow, that we may compassionate with him. Secondly, the greatness of our sins, which were the cause of his torments, that we may abhor them. Thirdly, the greatness of the benefit, that we may be grateful for it. Fourthly, the excellency of the divine charity and bounty therein manifested, that we may love him more fervently. Fifthly, the conveniency of the mystery, that we may be drawn to admiration of it. Lastly, the multiplicity of virtues of our blessed Saviour which did shine in this stupendous mystery, that we may partly imitate and partly admire them; wherefore, in the midst of these meditations, let us sometimes compassionate with our blessed Saviour in the extremity of his sorrows; extreme indeed, both by reason of the tenderness of his body, as also, for the great affection he bore unto our souls. He did suffer them without any manner of consolation, as we shall speak hereafter in its proper place. Sometimes let us stir up in ourselves compunction for our sins, which were the cause of these his great sufferings. Sometimes let us kindle in our souls an ardent affection, considering his great affection towards us, which upon the cross he declared and manifested to the whole world. And the benefit which he bestowed upon us in his passion, because he bought us with the inestimable price of his precious blood, of which only, we reap the benefit and commodity. Sometimes let us ruminate upon the conveniency of the manner, his eternal wisdom would be pleased to choose, to cure our miseries, to satisfy for our sins, to relieve our necessities, to make us partakers of his glory, to repress our pride, to induce us to the love and joyful suffering of poverty, injuries, austerity, and all commendable laborious exercises. Moreover, it will not be besides the matter, to look into the admirable examples which did principally shine in the life and passion of our sweet Saviour, his meekness, patience, obedience, mercy, poverty, charity, humility, bounty, modesty, and other of his rare virtues, which in all his actions did glitter like stars in the firmament. And chiefly to this end, let us meditate upon these things, that, as near as we can, we may imitate them. Let us shake off sloth, and elevate our souls, that as much as in our power lieth, with the help of his holy grace, we may trace his sacred footsteps. This is the best and most profitable method of meditating upon our blessed Saviour's passion, that is to say, that, thereby we be drawn to imitation, and so to be wholly transformed into our blessed Saviour, that each one may say with the Apostle: "Vivo autem, jam non ego, vivit vero in me Christus." "And now I live, but not I, but Christ in me." Moreover, in meditating our blessed Saviour's passion, we must set him before the eyes of our souls, imagining that we see as present the pangs of his heavy sufferings; and we must not only insist upon the bare history of his passion, but we must consider other circumstances; namely, these four; first, who it is that suffereth? secondly, for whom? thirdly, how? fourthly, why? First, he that suffereth, is God, omnipotent, infinite, immense. For whom? the most ungrateful creature in the world, and less regarding his benefits. How? with most profound humility, charity, bounty, meekness, mercy, patience, modesty, &c. Why? not for his own commodity, nor our merits, but for his immense piety, mercy, goodness and love towards us.

Last of all, let us not only contemplate his outward, but his inward torments, for much more may be considered in the soul than in the body of Christ, both for the more sensible feeling of his passion there, as also for divers other considerations therein. Thus, having set down this short preface, let us proceed to the handling of the mysteries themselves of our blessed Saviour's passion.

1. Luke xxii 31

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CHAPTER III. OF THE TIME AND FRUIT OF THESE MEDITATIONS

Behold, Christian reader, thou hast seven former meditations, accommodated to every day of the week; not so that it is an offence to meditate upon another matter; when, as we said before, whatsoever inflameth the heart to the love and fear of God, and to the keeping of his commandments, may profitably be assumed for matter of meditation. We, therefore, out of so great a number, have selected these, both for that they contain the chief mysteries of our faith, and that in them is force and efficacy, to rouse up our souls to the love and fear of God: as also to set before novices, which have need of a guide, prepared and, as it were, fore-chewed matter, lest they confusedly wander up and down in this spacious field, without any certainty, now meditating upon one thing, and presently on another.

Moreover, these meditations, as we have said elsewhere, suit best with those who do begin to turn from Almighty God from their wicked courses. For these had need to be helped by the consideration of these things, to the detestation and horror of sin, the fear of God, the contempt of the world, which are, as it were, the first steps to the amendment of our former perverse life; therefore, it is good, that they should sometimes insist in them, that they may have the better foundation for other ensuing virtues.

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SEVEN OTHER MEDITATIONS OF THE PASSION OF OUR LORD, AND THE MANNER HOW IT OUGHT TO BE MEDITATED UPON

CHAPTER IV.

Here follow seven other meditations of the passion of Christ, his resurrection, and ascension into heaven; to which, others of his holy life may well be added.

But we must note, that in the passion of our blessed Saviour, six things chiefly are to be meditated upon. First, the bitterness of his sorrow, that we may compassionate with him. Secondly, the greatness of our sins, which were the cause of his torments, that we may abhor them. Thirdly, the greatness of the benefit, that we may be grateful for it. Fourthly, the excellency of the divine charity and bounty therein manifested, that we may love him more fervently. Fifthly, the conveniency of the mystery, that we may be drawn to admiration of it. Lastly, the multiplicity of virtues of our blessed Saviour which did shine in this stupendous mystery, that we may partly imitate and partly admire them; wherefore, in the midst of these meditations, let us sometimes compassionate with our blessed Saviour in the extremity of his sorrows; extreme indeed, both by reason of the tenderness of his body, as also, for the great affection he bore unto our souls. He did suffer them without any manner of consolation, as we shall speak hereafter in its proper place. Sometimes let us stir up in ourselves compunction for our sins, which were the cause of these his great sufferings. Sometimes let us kindle in our souls an ardent affection, considering his great affection towards us, which upon the cross he declared and manifested to the whole world. And the benefit which he bestowed upon us in his passion, because he bought us with the inestimable price of his precious blood, of which only, we reap the benefit and commodity. Sometimes let us ruminate upon the conveniency of the manner, his eternal wisdom would be pleased to choose, to cure our miseries, to satisfy for our sins, to relieve our necessities, to make us partakers of his glory, to repress our pride, to induce us to the love and joyful suffering of poverty, injuries, austerity, and all commendable laborious exercises. Moreover, it will not be besides the matter, to look into the admirable examples which did principally shine in the life and passion of our sweet Saviour, his meekness, patience, obedience, mercy, poverty, charity, humility, bounty, modesty, and other of his rare virtues, which in all his actions did glitter like stars in the firmament. And chiefly to this end, let us meditate upon these things, that, as near as we can, we may imitate them. Let us shake off sloth, and elevate our souls, that as much as in our power lieth, with the help of his holy grace, we may trace his sacred footsteps. This is the best and most profitable method of meditating upon our blessed Saviour's passion, that is to say, that, thereby we be drawn to imitation, and so to be wholly transformed into our blessed Saviour, that each one may say with the Apostle: "Vivo autem, jam non ego, vivit vero in me Christus." "And now I live, but not I, but Christ in me." Moreover, in meditating our blessed Saviour's passion, we must set him before the eyes of our souls, imagining that we see as present the pangs of his heavy sufferings; and we must not only insist upon the bare history of his passion, but we must consider other circumstances; namely, these four; first, who it is that suffereth? secondly, for whom? thirdly, how? fourthly, why? First, he that suffereth, is God, omnipotent, infinite, immense. For whom? the most ungrateful creature in the world, and less regarding his benefits. How? with most profound humility, charity, bounty, meekness, mercy, patience, modesty, &c. Why? not for his own commodity, nor our merits, but for his immense piety, mercy, goodness and love towards us.

Last of all, let us not only contemplate his outward, but his inward torments, for much more may be considered in the soul than in the body of Christ, both for the more sensible feeling of his passion there, as also for divers other considerations therein. Thus, having set down this short preface, let us proceed to the handling of the mysteries themselves of our blessed Saviour's passion.

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SEVEN OTHER MEDITATIONS

A MEDITATION FOR MONDAY

This day, after thou bast signed thyself with the sign of the cross, thou shalt meditate upon the washing of the disciples (eet, and institution of the blessed sacrament.

Consider, O my soul, at this supper, sweet Jesus himself to be present, contemplate that inestimable example of humility, which he there proposed unto thee for imitation; when rising from the table where he sat with his disciples, he would be pleased to wash their feet O sweet Jesus, what is it that thou dost? O sweet Jesus, why doth thy mighty Majesty thus diminish itself? O my soul, what wouldst thou have thought to see God kneeling at the feet of men, and prostrate before Judas? O barbarous and cruel man, could not so great humility mollify thy heart? Was not so great bounty and sweetness able to penetrate thy entrails, and to reclaim thee from thy intended mischief? can it be that thou determinest to sell this meek lamb for so small a price? nay, if it be so, how couldst thou yet endure to behold so rare an example? I wonder it did not wound thy guilty soul with compunction for thy grievous crime? O delicate hands, how could you touch so filthy, sordid, and with sin contaminated feet? O pure and unspotted hands, how could you endure to wash those feet, that were stained with going and coming to make a sale of your precious blood? O thrice happy Apostles, did you not tremble and stand amazed at the sight of so great humility? What dost thou do, Peter? canst thou permit the Lord of Majesty to wash thy feet? St. Peter, wholly astonished with the admiration of this spectacle, when he saw our blessed Saviour falling down at his feet, cried out, "Domine, tu mihi lavas pedes?" Lord, dost thou wash my feet? what, art not thou the son of the ever-living God? art not thou the creator of the whole world, the beauty of heaven, the paradise of angels, redeemer of mankind, splendor of thy father's glory, most deep fountain of the eternal wisdom? and dost thou wash my feet? how cometh it to pass, that thou Lord of so great majesty and glory, shouldst thus debase thyself to so vile a service?

Then, consider, how he washed all his disciples' feet, one by one, and after washing, wiped them with a linen cloth wherewith he was girded, open the eyes of thy mind to behold in these mysteries, a representation of our redemption. This linen cloth so wiped their feet, that all the dirt which was upon their feet did stick on the linen cloth, not without mystery.

For what more foul than man conceived in sin? What more pure than Christ conceived by the operation of the Holy Ghost? " Dilectus mens candidus et rubicunduSf electus ex milihus:"[1] "My beloved," saith the spouse in the canticles " is white, and ruddy chosen out of thousands;" yet, notwithstanding, most pure, most beautiful. Christ took unto himself all the spots of our souls; from which, that he might cleanse us, (as you may see him upon the cross,) he would be pleased to defile himself with the filth of our impurity. Consider, lastly, with what words our blessed Saviour closed up this humble action: " Exemplum enim dedi vobis ut quemadmodum ego feci vohis, ita, et vos facialis." "For I have given you an example, that as I have done to you, so you do also."[2] Which words do not only pertain to this present action and example of humility, but likewise to all the actions of Christ throughout his whole life, which is a most absolute and perfect rule for us to square our actions by, especially of humility, which is here to life represented unto us.

OF THE INSTITUTION OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT

He that desireth to comprehend anything of this noble mystery, must certainly think, that no tongue is able to express that immense love and ardent affection, wherewith our blessed Saviour was inflamed towards his holy church and all faithful souls, in instituting this stupendous mystery. For when this bridegroom determined to depart out of this mortal life, and to leave the church his beloved spouse; lest this his departure should be any occasion to her of forgetting her redeemer; he gave her this sacrament wherein he himself is present, as a pledge and memorial of his perpetual love.

Then seeing he was to be long absent, lest his spouse should remain solitary alone, he, for his consolation, would leave himself for her companion in this holy sacrament.

When our blessed Saviour was to suffer death for the redemption of his spouse, to enrich her with his most precious blood, and to purge her from sins, lest she should be defrauded of so great a treasure; he would give her a key in this sacrament whereby she might at her pleasure enjoy these riches; for as St. Chrysostom saith, we must think as often as we come to this sacrament, we put our mouth to the bleeding side of Christ, and from thence drink his most precious blood, whose merits we participate. Moreover, this celestial bridegroom, did desire to be tenderly beloved of his spouse, and for this cause would leave her this mystical meat, consecrated with most efficacious words, and therein so great virtue, that whosoever receives it worthily shall presently be struck with the darts of love.

He would likewise bestow upon his spouse some pure pledge, thereby to make her secure of the certain succession of future glory, that in hope of so great a good, he might temper the laborious difficulty, and make the tedious bitterness of this present life to be more tolerable; wherefore, that the spouse might certainly believe that she shall at length attain to these unspeakable goods, he hath given her for a pawn, this inestimable treasure, which is as much worth as that which is expected hereafter; that she should not doubt but that God will give her himself in glory, where he liveth in spirit, that would be pleased to give her himself in this vale of tears, where he liveth in the flesh.

He would, moreover, when he died, make his last will and testament, wherein he left to his spouse a singular manna, to cure all her infirmities; a gift, than which nothing can be more sovereign, nothing more precious, seeing the Deity itself is therein contained.

Lastly, he desired to feed our souls with some heavenly food, seeing they need no less nourishment than they might live spiritually, than the body needeth corporal sustenance, that she might live corporally. Wherefore, this spiritual physician, when he had diligently examined and felt the pulse of our fragility, instituted this holy sacrament, which he exhibited unto us under the species or form of bread, that he might declare what effect it should work in us, that is to say, that it is as necessary for our souls as bread for the body.


1. Cant. v 10
2. John xiii 15

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A MEDITATION FOR TUESDAY

This day thou shalt meditate of the prayer Christ made in the garden, the method thereof; and the contumelies he suffered in the house of Annas.

Consider, therefore, how Christ our Lord, after the consummation of his mystical body with his disciples, before he entered into the tragedy of his passion, went to make his prayer upon the mount Olivet; whereby he would instruct us, that in all adversities and tribulations of this present life, we fly to prayer, as to a holy anchor; the power of which is so great, that it either beateth back the forces of tribulations, or (which is of greater excellency) ministereth sufficient strength to endure them, with a constant and willing mind.

He took, for his companions in his journey, three of his disciples, whom he loved above the rest: St. Peter, St. James, and St. John. Who, as they were eye-witnesses of his transfiguration, so likewise, they should be present in his agony, to behold him, for the love of man, now transformed into a far more different shape than he was when he manifested himself unto them in a glorious and glittering form.

That, also, he might open unto them his inward grief to be much greater than appeared outwardly. He saith unto them: "Tristis est anima mea usque ad mortem. Sustinete hic, et vigilate mecum:" "My soul is sorrowful even unto death. Stay you here and watch with me."[1] O words full of compassion! Then departing from his disciples a stone's cast, with great submission and reverence, he prayed his Father: "Pater mi, si possible est, transeat a me calix istp, verumtamen non sicut ego volo, sed sicut tu." "My Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from me. Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt." Which prayer, when he had repeated thrice, he fell into such an agony that he sweat drops of blood, trickling down upon the earth, from his precious body.

Consider, that partly the foreseeing of the most unspeakable torments that ever any mortal man suffered, prepared for his most tender body; partly the distinct representation of the sins of the whole world, for the expiation of which he was now to suffer death upon the cross; partly the remembrance of the ingratitude of many, who would not esteem or reap any profit from this great benefit, struck such a deep impression into his soul, that it filled it with sad and incredible anxiety, so troubled his senses and tender flesh, that all the elements of his body being weakened, the opened pores on every side sweat out drops of blood. If the flesh, which properly suffered not this anguish, but only through a simple imagination, was thus afflicted, what did his soul feel? to whom, properly, these sorrows did appertain.

His prayer being ended, that counterfeit friend of Christ, Judas the traitor, came attended with a hellish band: he, I say, who renounced his apostleship, to be head and captain of a troop of hell-hounds, behold in the fore-front of that wicked multitude, impudently coming to his Master, whom before he had sold, betraying him with a kiss of peace and friendship.

In that hour, said Jesus to the company which came to apprehend him, "Are you come out, as it were against a thief, with swords and clubs? When I was daily with you in the temple, you did not stretch forth your hands against me; but this is your hour, and the power of darkness."[2]

This mystery is worthy of admiration, for what thing can be more admirable and stupendous, than to see the only begotten Son of God, not only in the form of sinful man, but in the shape of a condemned man: "Hæc est hora vestra, et pot est as tenehrarum:" "This is your hour, and the power of darkness." From which words is gathered, that this innocent Iamb was left to the diabolical cruelty of the princes of darkness, who, by their vicegerents and ministers, poured all the malice and mischief they were able to conceive, against him. Consider how much, for thy sake, the supreme majesty of God is humbled; to endure all the extremity of torments that ever any suffered in this present life, nor to die for his own faults, but for thy sins; but he did undergo this of his own accord, to free thee from the power of Satan.

He had scarce spoken these words, when that whole rabble of hunger-starved wolves, gaping after their prey, rushed upon this meek and innocent lamb, hauling, tearing, and afflicting him, with as much cruelty as ever they could. O barbarous and inhuman proceedings! O cruel and savage blows, contumelious violences, wherewith they tormented him; they insulted after a horrid manner, no otherwise than conquerors return loaded with spoils, after they have put to flight their enemies, or hunters when they have caught their prey. The hands which a little before were exercised in working miracles, they were now bound with ropes so cruelly, that they razed the skin, and besmeared them with blood. Thus they led him through the public streets of Jerusalem, following him with contumelies and blows: behold him in this journey going alone, left by all his disciples, compassed with a multitude of his enemies, forced to make such haste, that he was wholly out of breath, his color changed, his face blushing, and his whole body weakened and wearied by reason of the intolerable present difficulty.

Although our blessed Saviour was barbarously and almost cruelly handled by that blood-sucking multitude, yet, nevertheless, thou mightest have seen in his countenance a pleasant sweetness, in his eyes a comely gravity, in his manners, a divine grace, which all the torments of the whole world could not so much as diminish in the least degree.

After this, go with our blessed Saviour into the house of Annas the high priest, that there thou mayest take notice what favor he reaped for his mild answer, when Annas examined him of his, and his disciples' doctrine, which was, that one of the officers gave him a cruel blow upon his cheek, saying, "Sic respondes pontefici?" "Answerest thou the high priest so?" To him Christ replied: "Si male locutus sum, testimojiium perhibe de malo: si autem bene, quid me caedis?"[3] " If I have spoken evil, bring testimony of the evil, but if well, why strikest thou me?"

Behold, O my soul, not only the mild answer, but the print of the officer's hand in his tender cheek, his countenance, notwithstanding, quiet and amiable, not a whit moved at the shame of so great an affront, because he inwardly thought so low and humbly of himself, that he had turned the other side without delay, if the rascal had desired it.


1. Matt xxvi.
2. Luke xxii. 52.
3. John xviii 23

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A MEDITATION FOR WEDNESDAY

This day thou shalt consider, how Christ our Lord was offered up to Caiphas the high priest; what torments he endured there all that night; how St. Peter denied him; and last of all, how cruelly he was scourged.

Consider, first of all, how he was led from the house of Annas to the house of Caiphas; it is worth thy pains to follow him thither; for there thou shalt see the mighty sun of justice eclipsed; there thou shalt behold that divine face, upon which, the angels themselves delight to gaze, deformed with the filthy spittings of the Jews; for our Blessed Saviour standing in the midst of them, was conjured by the high priest in the name of his Father, to speak out what he was. He answered as beseeming himself; but they, who were unworthy of such an answer, blinded with the splendor of this great light like mad dogs, rushed upon him, vomiting up the bitter gall of their whole malice against him.

They began, whole troops of them to buffet him, to beat and kick him, they spat upon his divine face, and threw the very filth of their noses upon it. Others hood-winked his eyes with a dirty linen cloth, smiting him upon his cheek, and would in mockery have him prophecy who it was that struck him. O admirable and unheard-of patience, and humility of the only begotten Son of God. Oh, behold that face, which the angels of heaven do contemplate with incredible joy, besmeared with their sordid and filthy spittings.

Men, when they spit, commonly turn themselves to some foul place, somewhat remote from the sight of others. In this palace was there no place found more contemptible therein to cast their spit and filthy drivel, than the sacred face of Jesus Christ? O man, that art but dust and ashes, canst thou choose but be stirred up to humility, and contempt of thyself, at so rare an example?

Consider, moreover, what torments our Blessed Saviour suffered all that night, how the officers that kept him, afflicted him, that sleep should not close his eyes, derided the supreme Majesty of God, and loaded him with many injurious contumelies.

Weigh with thyself, my soul, that now thy spouse is made the white and mark, receiving upon himself all the darts of injurious contumelies that the mischievous Jews could shoot at him. O cruel night, O unquiet night, in which thou Blessed Jesus could rest no more by reason of anguish and affliction, than others who took pleasure to torment thee. The night was ordained for the rest of all creatures, that the members and senses wearied with the labor of the day before, might then take some repose. But the wicked soldiers that kept thee, spent it in tormenting thy senses, they did bind thy body, vexed thy soul, fettered thy hands and (eet with manacles, buffetted thy cheeks, spat upon thy face, blinded thine eyes, so that all thy senses, when they should have been refreshed, were afflicted.

Oh! how far did these matins differ from those, which, at the same lime, the blessed angels did sing in heaven? they cried holy, holy, and the Jews cried, he is guilty of death, crucify, crucify him. O angelical spirits which understand both cries, what could you imagine or think, when you saw the inhuman cruelty wherewith he was handled on earth, whom in heaven you adored with such great submission and reverence'? did you not wonder to see him suffer all these extreme torments, to expiate the sins of those who inflicted them upon him? who hath ever heard of such immense charity, that for this reason one should suffer death, to heal the grief, and cure the wounds of his murderers?

The fall of St. Peter, that great pillar, did not a little increase the anxiety of this tedious night; that he, whom he entirely loved amongst the rest, whom he chose to present at his glorious transfiguration, to whom he committed the primacy of his holy church, whom he ordained to be head and prince of the Apostles, that he, I say, should before his face, and in his presence, deny him, not once, but thrice, adding blasphemies and oaths, that he knew not the man. Tell me, Peter, did this man seem to thee so ungodly and wicked, that in future times thou didst fear, it would be a disgrace unto thee to confess him now? didst thou not consider that thou didst first pronounce the sentence of condemnation against him, before he was adjudged by the high priests, when thou didst not esteem him so much as worthy of thy acknowledgment? couldst thou do a greater injury to Jesus Christ?

But Christ, sorrowful for this great fault of St. Peter, turned himself, and cast his eyes upon him, that with his gracious countenance, he might reduce this wandering sheep into the sheepfold of his mercies. O admirable aspect, secret indeed, but full of signification, which St. Peter knew right well, and well understood of what force and efficacy it was. The crowing of the cock had little availed to bis compunction and conversion, had not the countenance of Christ our Saviour been adjoined; whose eyes did speak and work that stupendous change, the certainty of which, not only the flowing tears of St. Peter, but of our Blessed Saviour himself, did sufficiently testify.

After all these injuries, consider what Christ suffered, when he was bound to be scourged at the pillar, for the judge, when he saw that he could not pacify the fury of those infernal monsters, thought good to advise them, to beat him with rods and whips, whereby his whole body might be torn, hoping that way to mollify their obstinate and obdurate hearts; that when they saw him so torn and mangled, they would cease further to desire his cruel death.

Enter now, my soul, in spirit, into the house of Pilate, and have tears in readiness, for thou wilt have need of them, if thou shalt diligently consider what was done there.

Behold, how inhumanly these abject and infamous rogues despoiled our Blessed Saviour of his garments. Mark the humility of Christ, how he suffered himself to be stripped, not so much as opening his mouth, nor uttering any word against their injurious behaviour. See his sacred body bound to the pillar with many ropes, in such a fashion, that on every side they might have room to torture him.

Consider, how the Lord of angels, stood alone in the midst of his cruel enemies, without any advocates, or procurators, that would defend his cause, yea, altogether without any one man, who, at leastwise, afar off, would so much as compassionate the bitterness of his torments. Dost thou not hear the noise of rods and whips, wherewith they loaded, tore, and rent the delicate flesh of Jesus, adding stroke upon stroke, and wound to wound? dost thou not see his whole body in one short moment of time, with the vehemency, and often reiterated blows, to be covered, as it were, with one ulcer, his skin to be drawn from the flesh, and blood from his whole body, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, to flow down upon the earth? especially, is it not dreadful for thee to behold the place between the shoulders, whereupon, almost the whole force of the blows did light?

Consider, how Christ, the Saviour of the world, after that extreme cruelty of his tormentors, went up and down the palace all torn and cut, seeking and gathering up his garments, not finding one amongst those inhuman rascals, that would show unto him the least act of humanity, in washing or refreshing his wounds, or lend their hand to help him to put on his clothes. All these things are worthy of our diligent consideration, that thereby we might stir up our souls to due compassion of his miseries.

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A MEDITATION FOR THURSDAY

This day thou shalt meditate how Christ was crowned with thorns; his presentation before all the people; his condemnation; his bringing out to the place of execution; and, last of all, his carrying of his cross.

The spouse in the Canticles invited us to the consideration of these torments, when she said, [1]"Egredimini et videte Jilise Sion Regent Salomonem in diademate, quo coronavit ilium mater sua in die desponsationis illiusy et in die laelitix cordis ejus"

" Go forth ye daughters of Sion, and see King Solomon in the diadem wherewith his mother hath crowned him, in the day of his espousals, and in the day of the joy of his heart."

What dost thou do? what dost thou think, my soul? my tongue, why art thou silent? O sweet Saviour, when I open mine eyes and behold this sorrowful spectacle, my heart is rent with grief. What, Lord, were not thy former torments, imminent death, and abundance of thy blood already shed, sufficient for the redemption of mankind? but thou must yet be crowned with sharp thorns?

My soul, that thou mayest the better understand this sad spectacle, set before thine eyes, our Blessed Saviour in his former beauty, before he suffered these torments: then behold him, on the contrary, in this miserable state. If in the first, thou dost rightly view him, thou shalt see him more beautiful than the sun: in his eyes a comely gravity; in his speech a gracious facility; in his actions singular modesty; in the gesture of his whole body profound humility, joined with reverend majesty.

Then, after thou hast satiated thy soul with pleasure, in beholding this rare piece of admirable perfection, then turn thine eyes again, and look upon him as he is, in this present miserable state. Ridiculously clothed in purple, bearing in his hand a reed for a kingly sceptre, and upon his head a crown of sharp thorns, instead of a regal diadem: his eyes were dimmed, his face pale and wan, fouled and covered with the filthy spittle of the Jews; behold him within and without! his heart consumed with grief, his body torn with wounds and blows, forsaken of his disciples, hastened to undergo death from his enemies; mocked of the soldiers, despised of the high-priests, rejected as a wicked king arrogantly assuming this title, unjustly accused, and destitute of all human aid.

Do not consider these things as done and past many years since, but imagine with thyself, that at this present lime they are acting before thy face, not as another man's sorrows, but as thine own afflictions: set thyself in his place, and conjecture what torments thou shouldst suffer, if thy head were bored to the skull, and thy brain-pan pierced with sharp thorns? But what do I say, thorns? when thou canst scarce endure the prick of a small needle. How great, then, was the pain his tender head suffered, with this new and unheard-of torment?

The coronation of our Blessed Saviour, with many mocks and scorns, being ended, the judge produced him before the people, saying: "Ecce Homo:" " Behold the man." If ye thirst after the death of the man, behold him scarce a hair's -breadth distant from it; yea, he is brought to that pass, that he deserveth rather commisseration than your envy; if ye fear that he will make himself king, behold, he is so deformed, that he scarce retaineth the shape of a man: do ye fear any violence from these hands that are so straightly manacled? do ye dread any harm from a man that is cast into such a miserable and dejected state? whose body is so mangled and weakened?

Consider, O my soul, in what state thy Saviour was, when the very judge himself did think that this aspect would move his bloody enemies to compassion: from which we may gather, what a miserable thing it is to see a Christian of such an obdurate heart, which cannot or will not condole with the sufferings of our Saviour, when they were such, that the very judge did think them sufficient to mollify the malice of his enemies. But Pilate, seeing with these exceeding torments he could no way temper or assuage their fury, went into his palace, and sat in the judgment-seat to pronounce the definitive sentence against Christ. Now the cross was prepared at the door, and the fatal standard which threatened ruin to our Blessed Saviour, was now in readiness.

The sentence being pronounced, with the addition of more torments, they loaded his wearied shoulders with a heavy cross, to carry to the place of his execution.

But our meek Lord not only not rejected it, but out of that immense charity towards us, wherewith he suffered for our sins, obediently and willingly embraced it.

Now the innocent Isaac, with his weak shoulders, supported the intolerable burthen of the cross to the place of sacrifice. The simple people and devout women, followed him weeping. For who was able to contain tears, to see the Lord and King of angels going thus on foot, with the extremity of torments? his knees quivering, his body stooping, his eyes blinded, his face besmeared with blood, his head crowned with thorns, and his ears deafened with the noise of drums and trumpets.

Leave awhile, O my soul, this horrid spectacle, and with watering eyes, with sobs and sighs, go to the Blessed Virgin and say to her: Lady of angels, queen of heaven, gate of paradise, advocate of the world, sanctuary of sinners, health of the just, joy of the saints, mistress of virtue, mirror of purity, symbol of chastity, pattern of patience, and rule of all perfection. O me, miserable and unfortunate, what have I seen with the eyes of faith? How could I live to behold such inhuman usage? interrupting sighs will not permit me scarce to speak how I left thy only begotten Son, loaded with a mighty cross, to which he was presently to be nailed, and carrying it to the place of execution.

What heart, what mind, what soul, is able to comprehend the dolour, the Blessed Virgin Mary then did suffer? her heart fainted, and a dead sweat with extreme anguish possessed her whole body, and presently she had given up the ghost, had not the divine dispensation reserved her till better times, for her greater merit, and more abundant reward.

The Blessed Virgin with speed followed the steps of her beloved Son; that ardent desire wherewith she was inflamed to see him, added vigor to her, of which sorrow had bereft her: she heard afar off the noise of arms, the concourse of people, and the sound of trumpets on every side, publishing the passion of Christ; after that, she saw the glittering of lances and halberts; in the way she found his footsteps sprinkled with drops ol blood, by which, without any guide or leader, she might easily find the way. Approaching to her Son, she lifted up her eyes swelled with tears, to behold him whom she esteemed dearer than her own soul.

Oh! what strife was there in the soul of this Blessed Virgin betwixt fear and love? she did vehemently desire to see her Son, but, on the other side, she durst not cast her eyes upon him in this lamentable and afflicted state. At length, when she drew nearer, these two celestial lights beheld each other, their eyes pierced each other's souls, but grief enforced their tongues to silence; notwithstanding, their hearts did mutually discourse, and the Son unto the mother said: sweet mother, why comest thou hither, my love, O my dove? thy sorrow reneweth my miseries, and my torments crucify thy soul! return, return again into thy house; this defiled company of thieves and murderers, beseemeth not thy virginal purity. These and the like words they inwardly uttered all the way until they came to the place of execution.


1. Canticles iii 11

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A MEDITATION FOR FRIDAY

This day thou shalt meditate upon the mystery of the cross, and the seven words which Christ spoke upon it. Rouse up, my soul, and duly ponder this great mystery of the cross, which brought forth the fruit of satisfaction, to expiate that great loss which all mankind suffered by a tree.

Consider how, before our Blessed Saviour came to the Mount of Calvary, (to make his death more ignominious) his cruel tormentors stripped him of all his clothes, except his coat, which was without seam: behold how patiently this meek lamb suffereth his garments to be taken from him, not so much as opening his mouth or speaking one word against their barbarous dealing. He permitted these things willingly, but with a great strain to modesty. He was stripped naked that we might receive a better garment, to cover the nakedness of our sins, than that which Adam, the first parent of all mankind, made of the leaves of fig-trees, to cover the nakedness of his body.

Some doctors think that the crown of thorns was taken off, to pull with more facility his unseamed garment over his ears, and after to be fastened on again, which could not be without a vehement pain; the sharp thorns did afresh wound his sacred head with unspeakable torment. And surely this is not unlikely, seeing in the whole time of his passion they spared him in nothing; but the bitterest torments they could devise, they heaped upon him, especially when the Evangelist saith, they did to him whatsoever they would. This coat did so cleave to the wounds of his sacred body, by reason of the congealed blood, that when the barbarous hangmen drew it off with exceeding violence, they renewed again the wounds of Jesus; they pulled off with it many particles of flesh, so that the whole body of Christ, in every part flayed and bloody from the head to the foot, seemed to be, but one entire and continuous wound.

Weigh well with thyself, my soul, the immense goodness and mercy of God, manifested in these torments; behold, him that spreadeth the heavens with clouds, vesteth the green and pleasant fields with flowers, and he, that liberally bestoweth clothing upon every creature, behold him, I say, stark naked! Consider what cold, this precious body, being wounded, suffered; when they had not only despoiled him of his garments, but his very skin was not entire, neither were his wounds bound up, but exposed to the injury of the air. If St. Peter, being well clothed, could not overcome the cold of the forepassed night, what cold dost thou think, this delicate body suffered, being in every place wounded, and all naked.

Then, consider, how Christ was fastened to the cross, and what torment he suffered when the sharp nails pierced the most sensible parts of his tender body. Weigh, with thyself, that the Blessed Virgin, who beheld these things with her eyes, and hearing the frequent blows of the mallet, in driving the nails into the hands and feet of her Son, was not insensible, but that the heart of the Mother was pierced, with the hands, and feet of the Son.

When Christ was made fast upon the cross, presently they lifted it up and put it into a hole, there before prepared; behold how these wicked torturers of the innocent Jesus, pricked forward with their own malice, let the heavy cross fall into the hole with such violence, that it so much strained his body, hanging only by the nails, and rent wider the wounds of his hands and feet.

Sweet Saviour, can there be found a heart so hard, and steely, which is not mollified at such a spectacle, when the very stones did cleave asunder, as sensible of thy cruel torments?

O Lord, the dolours of death compassed thee round about; the storms and waves of the raging sea environed thee on every side, the waters entered into thy soul: thou didst descend to the deep abyss, where thou couldst find no footing. When thy heavenly Father did forsake thee. Lord, what couldst thou expect thy enemies would do? they cried out against thee, and thy friends did wound thy heart; thy soul was sad and heavy, neither was there any that would comfort thee.

Lord, from these unheard-of torments, and abundant satisfaction which thou madest for my sins, I cannot but acknowledge, with all humility, the grievousness of my heinous transgressions, which were the occasions of all thy miseries. I see thee, my King and God, fastened upon a wooden cross, with two iron nails; thy precious and tender flesh, to be stretched without any manner of respite. If thou wouldst a little ease thyself upon thy feet, the weight of thy whole body enlargeth their wounds: if thou wouldst leave the burthen to thy hands, the weight of it doth likewise rend their wounds. Thy sacred head could find no rest, because thou hadst no other pillow than the sharp crown of thorns.

O Virgin Mother, how willingly wouldst thou have embraced him in thine arms, thereon to ease and rest himself a little: but the arms of the cross would not permit thee, upon which, if he would repose, the sharp thorns struck deeper into his head. The troubles of the Son were much augmented by the presence of the Mother; which no less crucified his soul, than the Jews, his body, to the cross.

O sweet Jesus, in one day thou didst carry a double cross, the one upon thy body, the other in thy soul; the one of passion, the other of compassion; the one pierced thy body with nails of iron, the other thy soul with nails of sorrow. What tongue is able to express what thou didst suffer to see the anguish of thy dear Mother, whose soul thou didst certainly know to be crucified together with thee, when thou didst behold her heavy heart, pierced with the sword of sorrow? when with bloody eyes thou didst look upon her beautiful face, pale and wan, and didst hear the sighs of her dying soul, lamenting that she could not die? What didst thou suffer to see pure fountains of tears gushing from her eyes, and to hear her pitiful complaints she made in sorrowing for thy sufferings!

Then, consider, the seven words which Christ spoke upon the cross to his heavenly Father, saying, "Pater dimitte illis: non enim sciunt quidfaciunt." " Father forgive them, for they know not what they do." To the thief: "This day thou shalt be with me in paradise." To his Mother: " Woman behold thy Son." To the people he said: " I thirst." And to God again: " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" "Consummatum est:" "It is consummated." Into thy hands I commend my spirit.

Ruminate, my soul, with what exceeding charity, he made intercession to his heavenly Father, for his enemies and persecutors; with what piety and mercy he received the penitent thief into his favor; with what affection he committed his mother to the protection of his beloved disciple; with what ardor he testified himself vehemently to thirst after the salvation of mankind; with what clamor he thundered out his prayer, expressing to the divine Majesty the grievousness of his tribulations; how perfectly he fulfilled the obedience enjoined to him by his heavenly Father; and lastly, how he yielded his soul into his blessed hands.

Every one of which words do afford us a great deal of matter for our instruction; in the first, we are taught to love our enemies; in the second, mercy towards sinners; in the third, piety towards our parents; in the fourth, to thirst after our neighbor's salvation; in the fifth, when we are oppressed with tribulations, and seeming as it were, to be left of God, to fly to prayer; in the sixth, the virtue of obedience and perseverance; in the seventh, perfect resignation into the hands of God, which is the sum of all perfection.