As to the will, he loves God and our Lord Jesus Christ above all things, and his neighbor as himself, keeping all the commands of the law which depend upon this double love.
As to the sensibilities, he strives with all his might to bring desire and anger and all the emotions under the control of reason, and by no means to make provision for the lusts of the flesh (curam carnis facere in concupiscentia).—Savonarola—“De Simplicitate Christianæ Vitæ.”
[June 22.]
The sense of the vastness of the universe, and of the imperfection of our own knowledge, may help us in some degree to understand—not, indeed, the origin of evil and of suffering, but, at any rate, something of its possible uses and purposes. We look around the world, and we see cruel perplexities; the useless spared, the useful taken; the young and happy removed, and the old and miserable lingering on; happy households broken up under our feet, despondent hopes, and the failure of those to whom we looked up with reverence and respect. We go through these trials with wonder and fear; and we ask whereunto this will grow. But has nothing been gained? Yes, that has been gained which nothing else, humanly speaking, could gain. We may have gained a deeper knowledge of the mind of God, and a deeper insight into ourselves. Truths which once seemed mere words, received our heed and heart. Our understanding may have become part of ourselves.
Humility for ourselves, charity for others, self-abasement before the judge of all mankind, these are the gifts that even the best man, and even the worst man may gain by distrust, by doubt, by difficulty.
The perplexity, the danger, the grief often brings with it its own remedy.
On each bursting wave of disappointment and vexation there is a crown of heavenly light which reveals the peril and shows the way, and guides us through the roaring storm.
Out of doubt comes faith; out of grief comes hope; and “to the upright there ariseth light in darkness.”