The following Treatise presents, at first sight,
considerable difficulties. They do not arise from any
defect in the Saint's mode of expression, but are
inherent in his subject and manner of treatment,
"going deep down into the roots" of the Love of God.
Thus he speaks in his Preface, and continues: "The
first four books, and some chapters of the others
might doubtless have been omitted without
disadvantage to such souls as seek only the practice
of holy love . . . . I have been forced to say many
things which will appear more obscure than they are.
The depths of science are always somewhat hard to
sound."
But he tells us that the state of the minds of his
age required this deeper treatment; and whatever may
be thought as to the best way of presenting modern
religious teaching to an age so ignorant, so shallow
and so unthinking as is our own with regard to
spiritual truths, there can be no question that this
masterpiece of the chief doctor of ascetic theology
must not be brought down to our level, but that we
must raise ourselves towards it. The necessity of
giving some explanation of the sequence of its
doctrine, and of the difficulties which occur, must
be our chief excuse for daring to place words of ours
by the side of this finished work of S. Francis de
Sales.
A second reason lies in the fact that the
"Treatise on the Love of God" was, with others of his
writings, the chief subject of the celebrated
controversy between Fenelon and Bossuet. There can be
little doubt that this lowered the authority of the
work. Not because the mere fact of a discussion
seemed to throw over it an air of unsafeness or
suspicion. Descriptions of the sublime and mysterious
operations of the soul under the influence of grace
are always capable of being misunderstood, and
"wrested" from their proper sense, and no Christian
mystic, from S. Paul downwards, has escaped this
danger. The shameless abuse of the Saint's authority
by the Jansenists left it eventually quite
unimpaired. Hence the mistakes of Molinos, Pere
Lacombe, Madame Guyon, and even of Fenelon himself
would have thrown no permanent discredit on this
treatise, if Bossuet had defended it in a proper
spirit and with full knowledge and discretion.
Incredible as the fact may seem, it is
nevertheless true that neither Fenelon nor Bossuet
had properly studied the works in dispute. The former
went to them prepossessed. His opinions were already
formed, and he merely sought a confirmation of them.
He read in a most superficial manner. He
precipitately chose out what seemed to suit his
purpose, and neglected important statements and
obvious interpretations which were inconsistent with
it. He even went so far in what must be called a
sincere dishonesty of misapprehension, as to insist
on clinging to mistakes he had fallen into through
using Bailly's Lyons edition of the "Conferences"
(1628), which Bossuet had proved to be spurious.
Bossuet, on his side, admits that he had not
previously read it properly, he only studied what
seemed necessary to answer his opponent, and lacked
that high complete knowledge of S. Francis's teaching
as a whole which was necessary for taking a proper
view of details and parts. Indeed he only then (1695)
began those profounder studies of mystic theology
which enabled him later to write his treatises on
matters which to S. Francis, by the experience of
sanctity more even than by the studies of a lifetime,
were as familiar as the sights and sounds of home.
Hence it came about that while he easily justified
the teaching of the Saint, he not only failed to give
the full influence of his genius and authority to
unassailably establish its triumphant reputation, but
on the contrary he incidentally disparaged it. He
says, for instance: "S. Francis is a great saint, and
I have always maintained yhat his doctrine which is
objected against us is entirely for us as to the
matters in question: but we must not therefore make
him infallible, and it cannot be forgotten that he
has shown more good intention than knowledge on some
points."
Fortunately Bossuet mentions these points, and the
reader shall see directly Bossuet's entire
misapprehension of the Saint's meaning, and meanwhile
"it cannot be forgotten" that while Bossuet refused
the title "infallible" to S. Francis, for whom no one
claims it, he refused it to the successor of S. Peter
to whose office it really belongs.
Bossuet says further: "According to the spirit of
his time he had perhaps less read the Fathers than
the modern Scholastics." Did Bossuet remember that he
was speaking of the age of Sirmond, of Bellarmine, of
Venerable Canisius, and, we may say, of Petavius?
Francis was a master and a leader of his age, and, as
is clear from this Treatise alone, was excellently
versed both in the Fathers and the Scholastics, if
any distinction is to be made between them.
In conclusion, Bossuet presumes to say: "In these
places and in some others his theology might be more
exact and his principles more sure . . . . one would
not follow him in certain condescensions which I will
not particularize." In this also it will be shown
that Bossuet is most unjust, but for the present we
may consider that he neutralizes his own objection,
when in the same sentence he says: "As director of
souls he is truly sublime." In answer to these
attacks, Fenelon gladly changed places with Bossuet,
but his hasty defence was not so complete as the
charges were unwarranted and presumptuous.(1)
We shall briefly touch upon these controverted points
as they occur among the difficulties of the Treatise.
Of these difficulties Book I. contains by far the
largest proportion, and we will give an abstract of
this Book sufficiently complete to prevent the
necessity, not indeed of studying it, but, of a too
laborious study.(2)
In this first Book the Saint treats in
general of the will and its affections, in particular
of its chief affection, love, and of the will's
natural inclination towards a sovereign love of God.
The first chapter is to show that the unity
required for the beauty of that assemblage of
perfections called man, lies in this, that all his
powers are grouped round the will and subordinated to
it. Then (c. 2) it is shown that the will exercises
its authority in different ways, according to the
different nature of human powers. It governs: (a)
exterior movements, at its pleasure, like slaves; (b)
the senses and corporal functions, by a certain
management, like horses or hawks; (c) the fancy,
memory, understanding, by direction and command, like
wife and children, who are able to disobey if they
choose; (d) the sensual appetite (c. 3), in the same
manner as the last-named; it is still less under the
will's control, but there is no moral guilt so long
as the will refuses to consent to or adopt its wrong
desires.
Then are described the twelve movements of this
sensual appetite, -- viz., desire, hatred, hope, &c.,
which are called perturbations or passions. They are
all forms of the chief, and, in a sense, the only
passion, love. These passions are left in man on
purpose to exercise his will. A universal experience,
testified to in effect even by those who pretend to
deny it, such as the Stoics, proves that these
movements are necessary qualities of human nature.
Love being (c. 4) the root of the others their
action is good or bad according as the love is
rightly or wrongly placed. Nay the very will is bad
or good according to its love; and its supremacy does
not lie in this that it can reject all love, but in
this that it can choose amongst the loves presented
to it, by directing the understanding to consider one
more favourably or more attentively than another.
In the will, now defined (c. 5) as "the reasonable
appetite," there are affections, that is, movements
or forms of love, similar to the passions of the
sensual appetite. Having different and higher objects
they often run counter to the passions, and the
reasonable will often forces a soul to remain in
circumstances most repugnant to its sensual
inclinations.
These affections or tendencies of the will are
divided into four classes according to their dignity,
that is, the dignity of their objects:
- Natural affections, where the word natural is
not used in opposition to supernatural (as in this
sense the next class would also be natural), but to
signify those first and spontaneous affections
which by the very natural constitution of our
reason arise from the perception of sensible goods.
Indeed the word sensible exactly explains his use
of the word natural, provided that we carefully
remember that he is speaking not of the movements
of the merely sensual appetite or concupiscence
which are anterior to reason, but of our reasonable
and lawful affections for sensible goods. Such are
the affections we have for health, food, agreeable
society.
- Reasonable affections, where it will now easily
be understood that the word, which could be applied
also to the preceding class, is restricted to those
which are par excellence reasonable, that is, the
affections which arise in the spiritual part of
reason, from the light of nature indeed, but from
the higher light of nature - such as the affections
for the moral virtues.
- Christian affections, which spring from the
consideration of truths of the Christian
revelation, such as affections for poverty,
chastity, heavenly glory.
- Divine, or (entirely) supernatural affections
which God effects in us, and which tend to dim as
known by a light entirely above that of nature.
These supernatural affections are primarily three:
love for the beautiful in the mysteries of faith,
love for the useful in the promises of hope, and
love for the sovereign good which is the Divinity.
The essential supremacy of divine love is proved
(c. 6), and there follows a wondrous description in
four chapters of the nature and qualities of love in
general. Divine love or charity is not defined till
chapter 13, and is not specifically described till
the last chapter of Book II.
There are (c. 7) five points in the process of love:
- Natural affinity of the will with good.
- Delectation or complacency in it.
- A movement, following this complacency, towards
union.
- Taking the means required for union.
- Union itself.(3)
It is in 2 and 3, complacency and movement, that
love more properly consists, and most precisely in (3),
the movement or outflowing of heart. Complacency has
appeared to some to be the really essential point of
love, but it is not so, because love is a true
passion or affection, that is, a movement.
Complacency spreads the wings, love actually flies.
When the object loved is present and the lover has
but to grasp it, the love is called a love of
complacency, because complacency has no sooner
produced the movement of love than it ends in a
second complacency. When the object is absent, or,
like God, not as present as it may become, the
tending, advancing, aspiring movement is called a
love of desire, that is, the cupidity of what we have
not but hope to have.
After certain exquisite distinctions between
various kinds of desires, he returns (c. 8) to the
correspondence or affinity with good which is the
root of love, and which consists not exclusively in
resemblance, but in a certain relation between things
which makes them apt to union for their mutual
perfection.
Finally, coming to union and the means thereto, it
is exquisitely proved (c. 9) that love tends to union
but (c. 10) to a spiritual union, and that carnal
union, instead of being an expression of true love or
a help to it, is positively a hindrance, a deviation,
a degradation.
The next two chapters (11,12) treat the important
distinction between the two parts of the soul, the
inferior and the superior. It will clear matters to
notice that the Saint means the two parts of the
reasonable soul, and that in the first two paragraphs
of chapter 11 he simply says that his distinction
does not refer to the soul as a mere animating
principle, or, again, as the principle of that life
which man shares with plants and animals. He speaks
of the human soul as such, that is, as having the
gift of reason.
Even the inferior part of the soul truly reasons and
wills (so that his distinction of inferior and
superior is not the distinction between concupiscence
and reason), but it is inferior because it only
reasons and wills according to data furnished by the
senses: the superior part reasons and wills on
intellectual and spiritual considerations. But it
must be noticed that these considerations are not
necessarily supernatural.
The distinction between the inferior and the
superior part of the reasonable soul is quite
independent of revelation: it rests on the
distinction between what we have called the lower
light of nature and that higher light which, for
instance, heathen philosophers used, when, for love
of country or moral virtue, they chose to submit to
sensible pain or even to death which their lower
reason would direct them to avoid. The existence of
this lower reason is clearly shown in Our Blessed
Saviour's prayer in the garden. Willing and praying
are acts of reason, yet in this case they were acts
of a lower reason which Christ permitted to manifest
itself, but which had to give way to higher
considerations.
Now the inferior part of reason forms by itself
one degree of the reason, but the superior part has
three degrees; in the lowest of which we reason
according to higher natural light, or as the Saint
calls it, "human sciences," in the next according to
faith, and in the highest we do not properly reason,
but, "by a simple view of the understanding, and
simple acquiescence,"or assent, "of the will" we
correspond with God's action, when he spreads faith,
hope and charity in this supreme point of our
reasonable soul.
The distinction corresponds exactly with that made
in chapter 5, into natural, reasonable, Christian and
divine. The Saint there spoke of affections or
tendencies, he here speaks of reasonings and willings
which are the fulfilment of those tendencies. We may
remark here, as an instance of the superficial way in
which Fenelon and Bossuet studied this Treatise, that
they take a totally different ground of distinction
in separating the soul into superior and inferior
(viz., sensible perception and intellectual
cognition), and yet do not perceive that they are
differing from the Saint.(4)
To sum up (cc. 11, 12): in man there are some
powers altogether below reason; and reason, which is
of course one and simple in itself, has four degrees,
according to the rank of the objects presented for
its consideration and love, sensible things,
spiritual things known by the light of nature,
spiritual things known by the revelation of Christ,
and spiritual knowledge communicated by the immediate
communication of God's light. Between the last and
the last but one there is not exactly a difference of
rank in the objects, but a difference in clearness of
perception and strength of acceptance.
Having finished this subject, which is to some extent
a digression, the Saint returns to the consideration
of love, and gives (c. 13) its two main divisions,--viz.,
love of cupidity when we love good for our own sake,
and love of benevolence when we love good for its
sake--i.e. love of self-interest and disinterested
love.
He has already, in chapter 7, sub-divided the love
of cupidity into love of benevolence and love of
desire, according as the loved good is present or
absent, and now he applies the same division and the
same ground of division to the love of benevolence.
This also is either a love of complacency or a love
of desire according as the good is present to or
absent from the person we love: we rejoice in the
good he already has, we desire him the good he has
not.
This double form of the love of benevolence,
besides occurring frequently throughout, enters
particularly into the structure of Book V., and is.
importantly needed for the full understanding of Book
VIII. It is necessary here to point out that whereas
he has just placed the names complacency and desire
under the generic head, benevolence, he afterwards
uses the word benevolence, specifically, instead of
desire, as if dividing benevolence into complacency,
and benevolence proper. This use of the word in the
sense of desire agrees with its etymology,--bene-volentia,
bien-veuillance, well-wishing.
Cupidity alone is exercised in the inferior reason,
but in the superior reason both find place. The love
of God for his own sake which is necessary for
eternal life belongs exclusively to the supreme
degree of the superior reason, but the Saint teaches
(as Bossuet has clearly shown against Fenelon) that
there is a reasonable, high love of cupidity, that
is, a love of God as good to us, even in the highest
degree and supreme point of the spirit. This indeed
is the precise motive of Christian hope, which must
be kept subordinate to disinterested love, but can
only be separated from it by abstraction and by a
non-permanent act.
The love of benevolence is called friendship when
it is mutual. This friendship has degrees. When it is
beyond all comparison with other friendships,
supereminent, sovereign, it is called charity-the
friendship or mutual love of God and man.
The Saint shows (c. 14.) that to employ the word
love instead of charity is not against the use of
Scripture, and he mentions one reason for his
preferring the word love which gives us an important
help to the understanding of the Treatise. It is, he
says, because he is speaking for the most part not of
the habitual charity, or state of friendship between
God and the soul in grace, but of actual charity,
that is, of the acts of love which at once express
and increase the state of charity. Even in the three
following books, in which he is speaking of the
formation, or progress, or loss, of habitual charity,
he is still chiefly concerned with the acts by which
this is done.
In the remaining four chapters preparation is made
for the account of the communication of grace and
charity to the soul. He shows (c. 15) that there is a
natural amity of the soul with its God which is the
root of love; that thus, by a glorious paradox, God
and man need one another for their mutual perfection;
that we have (c. 16) a natural inclination to love
God above all things; that (c. 17) we cannot fulfil
this inclination by natural powers; but (c. 18) that
still the inclination is not left in our hearts for
nothing, as it makes possible the communication of
grace, and is the handle by which grace takes hold of
us.
It is chiefly against these three chapters that
Bossuet's animadversions are directed. He accuses the
Saint of two errors:
- in saying (p. 61) that God
would give grace to one who did his best by the
forces of nature as certainly as he would give a
further grace to one who corresponded with a first
grace;
- of saying (p. 57) that, in the state of
original justice our love of God would not be
supernatural.
Fenelon misapprehends the Saint's meaning, and gives
a very confused, imperfect answer to the two
objections. The real answer to the first is that
Bossuet is quite outside the question. S. Francis is
not speaking of the step by which a man passes from
the natural to the supernatural order, but of the
process by which his natural inclination to love God
above all things ripens into that actual love of him
above all things which belongs still to the natural
order.(5)
Bossuet falls into a somewhat similar error in his
second objection. S. Francis is considering,
separately, the natural love of God which those would
have who might be in the state of original justice,
who would, of course, by the very terms, have
supernatural love. Not only is Bossuet's criticism
ridiculously irrelevant, but his language, to ears
which have heard the Saint declared "Doctor of the
Church," sounds almost like impertinence. "What," he
says, "would this humble servant of God have done if
it had been represented to him that in the state of
original justice we should have loved God
supernaturally? Would he not have confessed that he
was forgetting the most essential condition of that
state?" And it is after these mistakes that Bossuet
complacently observes: "These opinions rectify
themselves in practice when the intention is good;"
and "In some points his theology might be more exact
and his principles more sure."
Book II. describes the generation of
charity, which, being supernatural, must be created
in the soul as a new quality. And after two
introductory chapters, the remaining twenty are
evenly divided between the history of the action of
God in bestowing, and the action of man in
appropriating this gift.
The two introductory chapters, which seem at first
sight somewhat foreign to the subject of the book,
are directed to put steadily and unmistakeably before
us the truth that when theologians speak of many
perfections, many acts, a most various order of
decrees and execution, this is only according to the
human method of viewing, and that our God is really
but one perfection and one act, which is himself.
This truth is developed partly also to introduce a
description of the perfections of the God of whose
love the Saint is speaking. At the end of the
Treatise he refers to these chapters as his chief
treatment of the chief motive of love -- the infinite
goodness of God in himself.
After this caution and preface, he begins (c. 3)
his account of the action of God in the production of
charity. He speaks, first, of God's providence in
general, including under this title his actual
providing or foreseeing, his creating, and his
governance. Then (c. 4) he comes to the divine decree
to create Christ's Humanity, angels and men for him,
inferior creatures for men -- following here the
Scotist teaching that Christ would have become man
(though of course he would not have died) even if
Adam had not sinned.
God decreed to create angels and man in the
supernatural state of charity, and, foreseeing that
some angels and the whole nature or race of man would
fall from this state, God decreed to condemn the
former, but to redeem the latter by his Son's death,
making the state of redemption a hundred times better
than the state of innocence.
God decreed (c. 6) special favours, such as the
Immaculate Conception of Mary, for certain rare
creatures who were to come nearest to his Son, and
then for men in general an immense abundance and
universal showers of grace, an all-illuminating
light.
He gives a whole exquisite chapter (c. 8) to show
the sincerity and strength of the desire God thus
manifests that we should love him, and then comes (c.
9) to the effecting this desire by preventing our
hearts with his grace, taking hold of our natural
inclination to love him. We can (c. 10) repulse his
grace, not because (c. 11) there is anything wanting
in God's offer, but (c. 12) as an inevitable
consequence of our having free-will; in case we
accept it, we begin to mingle our action with God's.
Here we must remark that the Saint is not
concerned with the sacramental action of God which
creates or re-creates charity in the soul by baptism
or penance, still less does he treat the
semi-miraculous production of charity by Baptism in
souls which have not yet the use of reason, but he
speaks of the intellectual and moral process or set
of acts by which a soul gifted with the use of reason
is conducted from infidelity to faith and charity, he
treats of the justification which is made by love
even before the actual reception of a Sacrament.
Our first act under divine inspiration is (c. 13) the
consenting to those first stirrings of love which God
causes in the soul even before it has faith. Then (c.
14) comes the production of faith. This may follow
after argument and the acceptance of the fact of
miracles, but it is not precisely an effect of these.
Such things make truths of faith extremely credible,
but God alone makes them actually believed. And the
effect is from God not only in this sense that the
extremest effort of natural intelligence could not
attain to faith, but also because a moving of the
will is required and is contained in the intellectual
act of faith itself, what the Saint calls an
affectionate sentiment of complacency in the beauty
and sweetness of the truth accepted, so that faith is
an acquiescence, an assent, an assurance. The Jews
saw the force of the argument from Christ's miracles,
but they did not assent to the conclusion because
they loved it not. Hence faith includes a certain
commencement of love in the will, but a love not as
yet enough for eternal life.
Then (cc. 15, 16, 17) comes the production of hope,
which brings yet closer to charity. As soon as faith
shows the divine object of man's affections, there
arises a movement of complacency and desiring love.
This desire would be a torment to us unless we had an
assurance that we might obtain its object. God gives
this assurance by his promise, and this promise,
while it makes desire stronger, causes at the same
time a sense of calm which the Saint calls the "root"
of hope.
From it spring two movements or acts of the soul,
the one by which she expects from God the promised
happiness, and this is really the chief element of
hope -- esperer, the other by which she excites
herself to do all that is required on her part --
aspirer. This aspiration is the condition but not the
positive ground of our esperation (to coin a word).
That is to say, we may not expect the fruition of God
except in so far as we have a courageous design to do
all we can; then, we may infalliby expect it, yet
still ever from the pure mercy of God.
Hope, then, is defined "an expecting and aspiring
love," or "the loving complacency we take in the
expecting and seeking our sovereign good." It is then
a distinct advance in love. Faith includes a
beginning of love in the movement of the will though
its real seat is the intelligence; hope is all love,
and its seat is the will. However hope as such is
still insufficient, because, however noble, it is a
love of cupidity, and not that love of God for his
own sake which is necessary for eternal life. By it
we love God sovereignly, because we desire him above
all other goods, yet our love is not sovereign,
because it is not the highest kind of love. The Saint
is of course speaking of the action of hope before
charity. Hope remains also after charity, existing,
as we have said, in the very heights of perfect love,
and after charity its acts merit before those of
every other virtue.
Then comes the production of penitence or repentance.
He distinguishes (c. 18) first, a merely human
repentance; secondly, a religious repentance
belonging to the merely natural order; thirdly, a
supernatural inferior repentance, which (c. 19) is
good but insufficient; and fourthly (c. 20), perfect
repentance, that is, sorrow for sin arising from the
loving consideration of the sovereignly amiable
goodness which has been offended thereby. This is not
precisely charity, because charity is, precisely, a
movement towards union, whereas repentance is,
precisely, a movement of separation (from sin); but
though it is not precisely charity and therefore has
not the sweetness of charity, it has the virtue and
uniting property of charity, because the object of
its movement of separation from sin is union with
God. In practice there is no means, or need, to
distinguish, because perfect repentance is always
immediately followed or preceded by charity, or else
the one is born within the other.
The Saint then reminds us (c. 21) that all this
has been done by the loving action of God's grace,
which, after awakening our souls and inspiring them
to pray has brought them through faith and hope to
penitence and perfect love. In conclusion (c. 22) he
describes charity.
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