20. It is to bring us to this spirit, that God permits us to meet so many pains and troubles in the world; as when a man sets thorns in a way, to make men take another. “God has his ends, says M. De Renty, in all these contrarieties, viz. that those who are his, should be yet more his, and despise more and more all that is in the world. By these the confusion and vanity of the world are made known to them that are not of it; who being in the spirit of death, wait for nothing more there but death; bringing forth, in the mean while, the fruits of life eternal.”
CHAPTER III.
His self-denial and mortification.
1.AS it is absolutely necessary for every soldier of Christ, who would not so fight as one that beateth the air, to keep the body under, and bring it into subjection; M. de Renty vigorously applied himself to this work. He made but one meal a day for several years; till he was injoined to take more nourishment, to be the better able to undergo the great labours he undertook for his neighbour. He nevertheless eat but little, and always of the worst. A person who observed him at dinner one day, took notice, all he eat was some pears only, and that with so great seriousness and recollection, that it was easy to discern his mind was on God, and not upon his meat.
*2. When one of his friends entertained him one day at Caen, he was much grieved (as he afterwards declared) that Christians should be feasters; adding, It was a torment to be where there was so much superfluity. Hereon his friends took no more thought about his diet, knowing his best entertainment was the meanest fare, and that they could not oblige him more, than by leaving him to his liberty. And often at Paris, when he was so far from home, that he could not return to dinner, he would step into a baker’s shop, and after a piece of bread and a draught of water, chearfully go on with his business.
3. Nor did he deny himself only with regard to his taste, but to all his other senses also. When he went into the country, and came in the evening to his inn, after having dismissed his servants, he either passed the night in a chair, or lay down in his cloaths and boots, which was his custom till death. And when at Amiens, a lady, in honour of his virtue and quality, had prepared him a rich bed in a stately chamber, he made no use of it, but laid him down upon a bench, and there slept till morning.
4. Being come to [♦]Pontois in winter, and lodging at the Carmelite Nuns, he told them not to make a fire, or prepare a bed. He then went to visit the prisoners (which he never forgot) and at his return, about nine in the evening, finding them going to prayers, without taking any thing to eat, he went into the church with them, where he continued till eleven. And indeed at every time and every place, on every occasion, even in the slightest and meanest things, he kept a watchful eye over himself, that he might in no instance fulfil the desires of the flesh, but daily inure himself to endure hardship.
[♦] “Pointois” replaced with “Pontois”
*5. A short description of his mortification, or deadness to the world, we have in his own words. “Since the time I gave up my liberty to God, I was given to understand, to what a state the soul is brought, which is capable of union with him. I saw my soul reduced into a small point, contracted and shrunk up to nothing. At the same time I beheld myself as encompassed with whatsoever the world loves, and as it were, a hand removing all this far from me, and plunging it into the ocean. First, I saw removed all outward things, kingdoms, great offices, stately buildings, rich and elegant furniture, gold and silver, recreations, pleasures: all which hinder the soul in her way to God, of which therefore it is his pleasure she be divested, that she may arrive at that death which will bring her into the possession of real life. Secondly, all inward things, which are of a more delicate and precious nature, as learning, reason, strength of memory and understanding; to which likewise we are in a manner dead, if we are alive to God. And I perceived that we must come like little infants, simple and innocent, separated not only from evil, but even from our ordinary manner of doing what is good. We are to undertake what things the divine providence presents to us, by making our way by God to them, rather than by them to God. A truly mortified soul sees nothing but God: not so much (if I may so speak) as the things she does, of which nothing stays in her, neither choice, nor joy, nor sorrow, for their greatness, or for their littleness, for good or bad success; but only the good pleasure and order of God, which ruleth in all things, and which in all things contents the soul that adheres to him, and not to the vicissitude of affairs, and is therefore constantly even, always the same in the midst of all changes.”