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It is said that the heart is the first part of a man
which receives life by the infusion of the soul, and
the eye the last, as, contrariwise, in a natural
death the eye begins first to die, and the heart is
the last.
Now when the heart begins to live, before the
other parts are animated, life is certainly very
feeble, frail and imperfect, but ever as it
establishes itself more thoroughly in the rest of the
body, it is also more vigorous in each part and
particularly in the heart, and we see that when life
is injured in any one of the members it is weakened
in all the rest. If a man's foot or arm be hurt all
the body is troubled, excited, disturbed and
affected; if the stomach is disordered, the eyes, the
voice and the whole countenance show the effects of
it, so great is the sympathy amongst the organs of
man's natural life.
All the virtues are not acquired together, in an
instant, but one after another, in proportion as
reason, which is like the soul of our heart, takes
possession, first of one passion then of another, to
moderate and govern them: and ordinarily this life of
our soul begins in the heart of our passions, which
is love, and spreading itself over all the rest it
quickens at last the very understanding by
contemplation; as, on the contrary, moral or
spiritual death makes its entry into the soul by the
want of reflection(1) - death enters by the
windows,(2) says the sacred text and its last effect
is to destroy good love, which once perishing, all
our moral life is dead in us.
So then, although we may perhaps possess some
virtues without others, yet are they but languishing,
imperfect and weak virtues, since reason, which is
the life of our soul, is never satisfied nor at ease
in a soul unless it occupy and possess all the
faculties and passions; and when it is aggrieved and
wounded in some one of our passions or affections,
all the rest lose their force and vigour, and grow
exceedingly weak.
You see, Theotimus, all the virtues are virtues by
the proportion or conformity they have with reason,
and an action cannot be called virtuous if it proceed
not from the affection which the heart bears to the
excellence and beauty of reason. Now if the love of
reason possess and animate a soul, it will be
obedient to reason in all occurrences, and
consequently will practise all the virtues.
If Jacob loved Rachel in consideration of her
being Laban's daughter, why did he despise Lia who
was not only the daughter, but the eldest daughter,
of the same Laban ? But because he loved Rachel by
reason of her beauty, he could never equally love
poor Lia, though a fruitful and wise maid, because to
his mind she was not so fair.
He who loves one virtue for the love of the reason
and comeliness which shine in it, will love all the
virtues, since he will find the same motive in them
all, and he will love each of them more or less, as
reason shall appear in them more or less resplendent.
He who loves liberality and not chastity, shows
sufficiently that he loves not liberality for
reason's sake, because reason is still more radiant
in chastity, and where the cause is more strong the
effects ought also to be more strong.
It is, therefore, an evident sign that such a
heart is not moved to liberality by the motive and
consideration of reason; whence it follows that this
liberality which seemed to be virtue is but an
appearance of it, since it proceeds not from reason,
which is the true motive of virtues, but from some
other and foreign motive.
It is sufficient for a child to be born in
marriage to bear in the world the name, the arms, and
the titles of his mother's husband, but to have his
blood and nature he must not only be born in the
marriage but of the marriage. Actions have the name,
arms and badges of the virtues, because being born of
a heart endowed with reason we presume them to be
reasonable, yet they have neither the substance nor
vigour of virtue when they proceed from a foreign and
illegitimate motive, and not from reason.
It may happen then, that a man may have some
virtues and lack others; but they will either be
virtues newly springing and as yet tender, like
flowers in blossom; or else perishing and dying
virtues, like fading flowers: for, in conclusion,
virtues cannot have their true integrity and
sufficiency unless they be all together, as all
philosophy and divinity assure us.
What prudence, I pray you, Theotimus, can an
intemperate, unjust and cowardly man have, since he
makes choice of vice and forsakes virtue? And how can
one be just without being prudent, strong, and
temperate, since justice is no other thing than a
perpetual, strong and constant will to render to
every one his own, and since the science by which
right is done is called jurisprudence, and since, to
give each one his own, we must live wisely and
moderately, and hinder the disorders of intemperance
in ourselves so as to give ourselves what belongs to
us? And the word virtue, does it not signify a force
and vigour belonging to the soul as a quality, even
as we say that herbs and precious stones have such
and such a virtue or property?
But is not prudence itself imprudent in an
intemperate man? Fortitude, without prudence, justice
and temperance, is not fortitude, but folly; and
justice is unjust in the weak man who dares not do
it, in the intemperate man who permits himself to be
carried away with passion, and in the imprudent man
who is not able to discern between the right and the
wrong. Justice is not justice unless it be strong,
prudent and temperate; nor is prudence prudence
unless it be temperate, just and strong; nor
fortitude fortitude unless it be just, prudent and
temperate; nor temperance temperance unless it be
prudent, strong and just. In fine, a virtue is not
perfect virtue, unless it be accompanied by all the
rest.
It is true, Theotimus, that one cannot exercise all
the virtues at once, because the occasions are not
all presented at once; yea, there are virtues which
some of God's greatest saints had never occasion to
practise: for S. Paul, the first hermit, for example,
what occasion could he have to exercise the pardoning
of injuries, affability, magnificence, and mildness?
Nevertheless, such souls stand so affected to the
rectitude of reason, that though they have not all
the virtues in effect, yet they have them all in
affection, being ready and prepared to follow and
obey reason in all occurences, without exception or
reservation.
There are certain inclinations which are esteemed
virtues and are not so, but favours and advantages of
nature. How many are there who are naturally sober,
mild, silent, chaste and modest? Now all these seem
to be virtues, and yet have no more the merit thereof
than bad inclinations are blameworthy before we have
given free and voluntary consent to such natural
dispositions.
It is no virtue to be by nature a man of little
meat, yet to abstain by choice is a virtue. It is no
virtue to be silent by nature, though it is a virtue
to bridle one's tongue by reason. Many consider they
have the virtues as long as they do not practise the
contrary vices. One that has never been assaulted may
truly boast that he was never a runaway, yet he has
no ground to boast of his valour. He that has never
been afflicted may boast of not being impatient, but
not of being patient. In like manner, some think they
have virtues who have only good inclinations, and as
those inclinations are some without others, they
suppose that virtues may be so too.
In truth the great S. Augustine shows, in an
epistle which he wrote to S. Jerome, that we may have
some sort of virtue without having the rest, but that
we cannot have perfect ones without having them all;
whilst, as for vices, we may have some without having
others, yea, it is even impossible to have, them all
together: so that it does not follow that he who has
lost all the virtues has by consequence all the
vices, since almost every virtue has two opposite
vices, which are not only contrary to the virtue but
also to one another.
He who has forfeited valour by rashness cannot at
the same time be taxed with cowardice; nor can he who
has lost liberality by prodigality, be at the same
time reproached with niggardliness. Catiline, says S.
Augustine, was sober, vigilant, patient in suffering
cold, heat and hunger; so that both himself and his
accomplices deemed him marvellously constant; but
this constancy wanted prudence, since it made choice
of bad instead of good; it was not temperate, for it
gave the bridle to repulsive uncleanness; it was not
just, since he conspired against his country: it was
not then constancy but obstinacy, which to deceive
fools bore the name of constancy.
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