Part 2

My Sisters in Christ, cultivate this habit of surrendering your will in trifling matters to God. You must know by experience that the discipline of an Institution like this is by no means a security against the little crosses and contradictions of daily life. A task falls to your lot which is not that which you like best, or think yourself most fit for. Or, a patient is discontented and hard to please, peevish in the course of convalescence, and apparently unmindful of the kindness you are showing her. Or, there is some collision of tempers between Sisters of very different characters. Or, there is some cause of anxiety connected with your absent family, which weighs heavily upon your mind, and tempts you to collapse into a mechanical performance of your duties. Now these and the like circumstances may all be accepted devoutly as the little cross—the cross exactly fitted to your stature and strength—which your Divine Master bids you take up and carry after Him. Pray and try to embrace it as His choice for you. Say in your heart, when the stress of the trial is painfully felt, “This is the Will of God in Christ Jesus concerning me;” and give God thanks for it, as for all the incidents of your lot. Not the Will of God simply, but the Will of God _in Christ Jesus_ concerning me; a Will therefore of infinite Love and Grace, reaching me as it does through the avenue of my Saviour’s Mediation. Practise this with prayer continually; and the gradual result will be a growing suavity and equableness of spirit, which cannot be disturbed even by great reverses. And there is no part of the Christian Example which tells more upon others than this suavity and equableness. A mind which (though all its susceptibilities are alive) cannot be thrown into disorder or robbed of its serenity by troubles, makes itself felt by all who come within the range of its influence as a heavenly mind. It is St. Peter’s shadow falling on a fever patient.

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III. The third and last practice recommended to you is that of a single intention, directing all you do, however secular and commonplace, to the Service of Christ in His members. In a place like this you have great advantages for this exercise. In ordinary life the pursuits of men and women (with the exception of the Pastoral Charge) can only be connected _remotely_ with the great end of Our Lord’s Service. It is His will, no doubt, that the present system of Society should work on till the Second Advent; and its continuance involves all the various duties which flow out of various positions. I am well aware that the humblest of these duties may have the right intention imported into it, and become through that intention an acceptable service; but still it is an advantage to have a duty which stands in very near relation to the great end. Now your duties here are of this character. You tend the infirm, or you instruct the ignorant, or you visit the poor. Now it is very easy to see in each sick person, in each ignorant person, in each poor person, a member of Christ. He Himself has constituted the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, the prisoner, His representatives, and has assured us that what is done to them, He will count as done to Himself. So that these patients, these pupils, these destitute people, are in fact a Sacrament, having Christ hidden underneath them. They indicate to us where He is, and in what quarter we may do Him direct Service. Now this should be to you, not a great comfort only, but a great help in the Divine Life. The intention to serve Him in His members may be so readily formed, no doubt whatever resting on the fact that He may be really served in this shape. Then, too, this thought will stand you in good stead, when your kindness is not reciprocated; when you are met by indifference and coldness, or thrown out of heart by ignorance and perversity. It was not to them you offered your service, but to Him in them. And you may be sure that, whatever their mind may be, He is not unrighteous to forget your work and labour of love, which love ye have showed for His Name’s sake. You may have failed in your object of giving relief, or communicating instruction, or soothing a sufferer; but there can be no failure in the Service rendered to Him, if your intention to render it has been sincere. Remember in this matter of intention that there is no duty so trifling, no service so humble, which may not be done to the Lord. And in doing the commonest things, pray and strive to exclude as much as may be the operation of lower motives. Let the thought be simply, “For Thee, dear Lord.” When the habit has been acquired of doing trifles thus, it will communicate a grace to our actions, and a brightness and alacrity to our spirits in performing them, which cannot fail of being felt by those under whose eyes we act. Men and women are very quick at reading one another’s real motives. Worldliness of heart and secularity of aim is sure to transpire to those around us, however much we may array ourselves in the livery of religion. Love of power, or love of pre-eminence, or mortified vanity,—if we are under the dominion of these sentiments, we cannot easily disguise them from others, however effectually we may close our own eyes to their presence within. And similarly, when the simple motive to serve and please Christ reigns in any heart, men speedily discover it, and recognize it as something above nature. And the discovery of this supernatural aim impresses them much more forcibly for good than a thousand efforts made of set purpose to reclaim and convert them.

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We have spoken of the Service rendered to Christ in His members. Fervently do I trust that in all English Sisterhoods this Service will ever hold a foremost place. We tremble for these Institutions as sure rapidly to deteriorate, whenever the notion insinuates itself that there is any life higher than that of active beneficence fed from the springs of devotion. My Sisters in Christ, if such a thought ever creeps into your heart, let me pray you instantly to reject it, as totally contrary to the Word of God and to the Mind of Christ, however specious in appearance. It is indeed wonderful how, to any person who has the Holy Scriptures in his hand, the notion of a life of exclusive contemplation and devotional exercise can ever approve itself. The instances usually quoted in favour of such a life, St. John the Baptist and Elijah the Prophet, are singularly out of point. For while it is of course true that these men did not live the ordinary domestic life of their times, that for the great purpose of their miraculous vocation they withdrew from home and family ties, it is notoriously untrue that they came into no contact with their fellow-men. They were national reformers; and national reformers cannot do their work without coming into rude collision with the sins, and prejudices, and errors of their day; when they were taken from the earth, it was with all the soil and dust of Earth’s conflict upon them. Thus these eminent characters lend not a particle of support to the idea that a life of entire isolation from our fellow-creatures is legitimate or after the Scriptural model. Nor does the idea gain any real countenance from the example of St. John the Apostle. True it is that he was not conspicuous for activity, like his great colleagues, St. Peter and St. Paul; that his character had in it probably a larger share of reflection than of will; but, whether we look at the fact of his having composed under Inspiration the profoundest part of the Canon of the New Testament, and having presided over the Seven Churches of Asia, or at the traditions of his bringing the robber chieftain, who had been one of his flock, to repentance, and of his Sermons in old age reducing themselves to the one precept, “Little children, love one another,” it is clear that, however contemplative the bent of his mind, he did a work of vast importance for his fellow-men. Indeed he is the great human model of the grace of Charity. And I may remind you that the inspired description of this grace (the highest of all the Evangelical Virtues) sets it forth almost exclusively in its aspect _towards man_. Charity is the sweetest flower which grows in the garden of the soul. And in what spots does this flower flourish? St. Paul’s panegyric of Charity plainly shows that its place is in the world, where are oppositions, collisions, provocations, suspicions; “Charity _suffereth long_, and is kind; doth not behave itself unseemly, _seeketh not her own_, _is not easily provoked_, thinketh no evil; _beareth all things_, believeth all things, hopeth all things, _endureth all things_.”

But the most conclusive of all arguments against a life exclusively contemplative in a world of sin and sorrow is the pattern of Our Blessed Lord Himself. One would have thought that at least His Example might have saved His followers from this miserable delusion. If His contact with Society was the closest; if He went about doing good; if His active works of mercy did not cease even at the moment of His apprehension; if the Cross itself could not silence His tongue from words of consolation, nor make Him unmindful of the sorrows of others; how shall any one profess to follow Him, who on principle ignores the claim which the sins and sufferings of men have upon Him; how shall any one presume to think that he has found a higher walk of the spiritual life than that in which Our Lord Himself walked? My Sisters in Christ, it is because this yearning after a complete withdrawal from the active works of mercy, this false ideal of a life holier than Christ’s life, has unhappily shown itself in some of the English Sisterhoods, that being here by the invitation of your Superior, I speak thus strongly and plainly on the subject. Be well assured that any life, the plan of which is out of conformity with the Word of God and the Example of Christ, will be attended with the worst results upon the character of her who adopts or seeks to adopt it. The mind recoils (and that not at all in virtue of its sinfulness) from mere contemplation. It was made by God for action, and for the reciprocation of sympathy; and mischief is sure to ensue from any attempt to alter the laws of its constitution. Without healthy exercise in Acts of Mercy it must grow morbid, narrow, superstitious, fanatical. I know that your rule in this Institution is to devote yourselves to works of Benevolence; still it cannot be out of place to warn you against dangers, which beset similar Communities with your own; and I find a trace of your Founder’s jealousy of your diversion from these works in the ninth of your Primary Statutes: “No Sister shall be required to spend more time in her private devotions than her own conscience shall lead her to desire; nor shall she spend any time for this purpose to the hindrance (in the opinion of the Superior) of the active work of mercy to which she shall be dedicated.” Those who framed this wise rule must have been aware of the morbid tendency in Communities like these to withdraw from the field of Active Benevolence, under the plea of more entire dedication to God.

Presuming therefore that your work in this place, like all active work, will be beset by many of the distractions and hindrances of ordinary life, I have given rules for the cultivation of spirituality amidst common engagements, which under God’s Blessing may serve to keep the heart true to the Lord, while there is much work upon the hands. In conclusion I will recapitulate these rules;

Practise the Presence of God. Practise submission to His Will in little Crosses. Practise the doing all things for Christ.

Thus the Patients, whom you shelter and tend, shall feel a calming, sanctifying influence from their temporary association with you; and shall look back with grateful reminiscences to the period when, before their return to the heat and dust and turmoil of Life, and to the glare of Life’s temptations, they were gathered in under the quiet shadow of St. Peter’s Home.

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THE END.

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GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, PRINTERS, ST. JOHN’S SQUARE, LONDON.

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WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

THOUGHTS on PERSONAL RELIGION; being a Treatise on the Christian Life in its two chief Elements, Devotion and Practice. _Sixth Edition_. Small 8vo. 6_s._ 6_d._

An INTRODUCTION to the DEVOTIONAL STUDY of the HOLY SCRIPTURES. _Sixth Edition_. Small 8vo. 3_s._ 6_d._

The IDLE WORD: Short Religious Essays upon the Gift of Speech. _New Edition_, _enlarged_. Small 8vo. 3_s._

LECTURES on the ENGLISH OFFICE of the HOLY COMMUNION. _Second Edition_. Small 8vo. 6_s._

SERMONS preached on Different Occasions during the last Twenty Years. _Second Edition_. 2 vols. small 8vo. 10_s._ 6_d._

FOUR SERMONS on SUBJECTS of the DAY; with a Preface on the “Oxford Declaration.” _Second Edition_. 1_s._ 6_d._

A MANUAL of CONFIRMATION; with a PASTORAL LETTER on First Communion. _Fifth Edition_. 1_s._ 6_d._

The INSPIRATION of the HOLY SCRIPTURES. Small 8vo.

FAMILY PRAYERS, arranged on the Liturgical Principle. _New Edition_. Small 8vo. 3_s._

PARISH SERMONS preached at Holywell, Oxford.

SERMONS at the BAMPTON LECTURE, 1850.

SOCRATES: a Lecture delivered to the Young Men’s Christian Association. 1_s._ 6_d._

SHORT DEVOTIONAL FORMS, compiled to meet the Exigencies of a Busy Life. 1_s._

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RIVINGTONS, LONDON AND OXFORD.

FOOTNOTES.

{14} This illustration, as well as all the thoughts of the paragraph containing it, is borrowed from the noble Sermon of Dr. Bushnell on “Unconscious Influence.” I give his words _in extenso_; for I believe few grander passages can be found anywhere: “But you must not conclude that influences of this kind are insignificant because they are unnoticed and noiseless. How is it in the natural world? Behind the mere show, the outward noise, and stir of the world, nature always conceals her hand of control, and the laws by which she rules. Who ever saw with the eye, for example, or heard with the ear, the exertions of that tremendous astronomic force, which every moment holds the compact of the physical universe together? The lightning is, in fact, but a mere fire-fly spark in comparison; but because it glares on the clouds, and thunders so terribly in the air, and rives the tree or rock where it falls, many will be ready to think that it is a vastly more potent agent than gravity.

“The Bible calls the good man’s life a light, and it is the nature of light to flow out spontaneously in all directions, and fill the world unconsciously with its beams. So the Christian shines, it would say, not so much because he will, as because he is a luminous object—not that the active influence of Christians is made of no account in the figure, but only that this symbol of light has its propriety in the fact, that their unconscious influence is the chief influence, and has the precedence in its power over the world—and yet, there are many who will be ready to think that light is a very tame and feeble instrument, because it is noiseless. An earthquake, for example, is to them a much more vigorous and effective agency. Hear how it comes thundering through the solid foundations of nature! It rocks a whole continent. The noblest works of man, cities, monuments, and temples, are in a moment levelled to the ground, or swallowed down the opening gulfs of fire. Little do they think that the light of every morning, the soft, genial, and silent light, is an agent many times more powerful. But let the light of the morning cease and return no more, let the hour of morning come, and bring with it no dawn; the outcries of a horror-stricken world fill the air, and make, as it were, the darkness audible. The beasts go wild and frantic at the loss of the sun. The vegetable growths turn pale and die. A chill creeps on, and frosty winds begin to howl across the freezing earth. Colder, and yet colder is the night. The vital blood at length, of all creatures stops congealed. Down goes the frost toward the earth’s centre. The heart of the sea is frozen; nay, the earthquakes are themselves frozen in under their fiery caverns. The very globe itself, too, and all the fellow-planets that have lost their sun, are to become mere balls of ice, swinging silent in the darkness. Such is the light, which revisits us in the silence of the morning. It makes no shock or scar. It would not wake an infant in his cradle, and yet it perpetually new creates the world, rescuing it each morning as a prey from night and chaos. So the Christian is a light, even ‘the light of the world;’ and we must not think that because he shines insensibly or silently, as a mere luminous object, he is therefore powerless. The greatest powers are ever those which lie back of the little stirs and commotions of nature; and I verily believe that the insensible influences of good men are as much more potent than what I have called their voluntary or active, as the great silent powers of nature are of greater consequence than her little disturbances and ‘tumults.’”

I have been told that Dr. Bushnell’s Theology is unsound on the fundamental doctrine of the Trinity. I have not seen any thing to prove this charge in “The New Life” (the only volume I have ever seen of his); but, while I cannot borrow his thoughts without an acknowledgment, I am bound to mention the allegation as a caution to those who fall in with his works. “The New Life” is full of noble sentiments, most eloquently enforced; and there is great danger now-a-days lest sentiments of this sort should be accepted as compounding for want of definite dogma—the only foundation of all true Religion. A Religion of sentiment only, not holding of a Creed, would resemble a body of flesh and blood, without a substructure of solid bones.