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I have seen, says Pliny, a tree at Tivoli grafted in
all the fashions that one can graft, and bearing all
sorts of fruit; for upon one branch there were
cherries, on another nuts, on others grapes, figs,
pomegranates, apples, and, in a word, all kinds of
fruit.
This was wonderful, Theotimus, yet more so is it
to see, in Christian man, heavenly love, with all
virtues grafted thereon; in such sort that, as one
might have said of this tree that it was a cherry
tree, an apple, a nut, a pomegranate, so may one say
of charity that it is patient, mild, valiant, just,
or rather that it is patience, mildness and justice
itself.
But the poor tree of Tivoli did not live long, as
the same Pliny records, for this variety of
productions dried up its essential sap, so that it
withered away and died; whereas, on the contrary,
charity is fortified and invigorated, so as to
produce abundance of fruit in the exercise of all the
virtues; yea, as our holy Fathers have observed, it
is insatiable in its desires of bringing forth fruit,
and never ceases to urge the heart wherein it dwells,
as Rachel did her husband, saying: Give me children,
otherwise I shall die.(1)
Now the fruits of grafted trees always follow the
graft, for if the graft be apple it will bear apples,
if cherry it will bear cherries; yet so that these
fruits always taste of the stock. In like manner,
Theotimus, our acts take their name and species from
the particular virtues whence they spring, but they
draw the taste of their sanctity from holy charity,
which is the root and source of all sanctity in man.
And as the stock communicates its taste to all the
fruits which the grafts produce, yet so that each
fruit preserves the natural property of the graft
whence it sprung, even so charity pours out in such
sort her excellence and dignity upon the acts of
other virtues, that she does not deprive them of the
particular worth and goodness which they have by
their own natural condition.
All flowers lose their lustre and grace amidst the
darkness of night, but, in the morning, the sun,
which makes them again visible and agreeable, does
not however make their beauties and their graces
equal, and its brightness, though equally spread over
them all, yet makes them unequally bright and
glorious, according as they are more or less
susceptible of the effects of its splendour. And the
light of the sun, equal as it is on the violet and
the rose, yet will never make that so fair as this,
or make a daisy as lovely as a lily.
However, if the sun should shine very clearly upon
the violet, and very mistily and faintly upon the
rose, then without doubt it would make the violet
more fair to see than the rose.
So, my Theotimus, if one with an equal charity
should suffer death by martyrdom, and another hunger
by fasting, who does not see that the value of this
fasting will not therefore be equal to that of
martyrdom? No, Theotimus, for who would dare to
affirm that martyrdom is not more excellent in itself
than fasting? And as it is more excellent, and as
superadded charity does not take away but perfects
its excellence, charity will consequently leave to it
the advantage which it naturally had over fasting.
Surely no man of good sense will equal nuptial
chastity to virginity, nor the good use of riches to
the entire abnegation of the same. Who again would
dare to say, that charity accompanying these virtues
deprives them of their properties and privileges,
since it is not a virtue which destroys and
impoverishes, but betters, quickens and enriches all
the good it finds in the souls which it rules. Yea,
so far is charity from bereaving the other virtues of
their natural pre-eminences and dignities, that, on
the contrary, having this quality of perfecting the
perfections which it meets with, it more greatly
perfects where it finds greater perfection.
It acts like sugar, which so preserves and so
seasons fruits with its sweetness that, sweetening
them all, it leaves them dissimilar in taste and
sweetness, according as their natural taste and
sweetness are dissimilar, nor does it ever make
peaches and nut-fruits as sweet or agreeable as
apricots and mirabels.
Still it is true that if love be ardent, powerful
and excellent in a heart, it will also more enrich
and perfect all the virtuous works which may proceed
from it. One may suffer death and fire for God
without charity, as S. Paul supposes,(2) and as I
explain elsewhere: by better reason may one suffer
them with little charity.
Now I say, Theotimus, that it may come to pass
that a very small virtue may be of greater value in a
soul where sacred love fervently reigns, than
martyrdom itself in a soul where love is languishing,
feeble and dull. Thus the little virtues of our
Blessed Lady, of S. John, of other great saints, were
of better worth before God than the most exalted of
many inferior saints; as many of the slight movements
of love in the seraphim are more inflamed than the
greatest in angels of the last order; or as the first
essays of the nightingale are incomparably more
melodious than the song of the best-trained finch.
Pireicus towards the end of his days painted only
miniatures and trivial subjects, such as barbers' or
cobblers' shops, asses laden with herbs, and similar
petty matters; which he did, as Pliny conjectures, to
lessen his great renown, whence in the end he came to
be called a painter of rubbish; and yet the greatness
of his art did so appear in his small works that they
were sold at a higher rate than the great pieces of
others.
Even so, Theotimus, the little simplicities,
abjections and humiliations in which the great saints
so delighted, in order to hide themselves and put
their hearts under shelter against vainglory, having
been practised with a great excellence of the art and
of the ardour of heavenly love, were found more
grateful in the sight of God than the large and
illustrious works of many others which were performed
with little charity and devotion.
The sacred spouse wounds her beloved with a single
one of her hairs,(3) of which he makes such great
account that he compares them to the flocks of the
goats of Galaad; and he has no sooner commended the
eyes of his devout loving one, which are the most
noble parts of the face, than presently he praises
her hair, which is the most frail, worthless and
mean; to teach us that in a soul captivated by divine
love, exercises that seem very trifling are yet
highly agreeable to his Divine Majesty.
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