CHAPTER II.

_His Humility._

1. ST. _Austin_ well observes, That poverty of spirit is nothing else but humility: The truly humble knowing themselves to be nothing of themselves but sin and misery, to have nothing, as being at best but manifold receivers of the grace of God; to be able to do nothing, having no power of themselves even to think a good thought, and to deserve nothing but shame and contempt, but misery and punishment. And they are willing, yea desirous, that all others should think of them as they do of themselves.

2. M. _de Renty_ being well convinc’d that this is the foundation of all virtue, and that it was the proper virtue of Jesus Christ, whom he had proposed to himself as his pattern in all things, embraced it with his whole affection, gave himself up to it with all his force, and practised it in its utmost latitude.

3. He had so low an opinion of himself, as it would be a difficult thing to express. The greatness of God, whenever he considered it, humbled him to an immeasurable depth; “A mote, said he, in the sun is very little, but I am far less in the presence of God, I am nothing.” But correcting himself, he added, “Alas I am too much; I am a sinner, an anathema through my crimes.” To the same person he wrote, “Methinks I break myself in pieces before God: that I am spoken of, that I have so much as a name is a strange thing.” I have seen him very often (says one that knew him well) humble himself, as it were to the centre of the earth, while he spoke to me of God; saying, “It was not for such a one as him to speak of him, but that he ought rather to contain himself in silence.”

*4. This exceeding low opinion he had of himself, made him more than once say, with tears in his eyes, “That he was much astonished at the goodness of men in suffering of him, and that he could not enough wonder, why every where they threw not dirt at him, and that all the creatures did not bandy against him.” And he was persuaded, it was much boldness in him to speak, and that men shewed great patience in enduring his conversation.

5. Nor was there any thing which did not serve to increase his humility. He abased himself much in the consideration of the weakness of our nature, of which as he exprest it, “It is important that a man have experience, that he neither forget himself, nor the place he ought to hold: that no flesh may glory in his sight; that being abased and rendered as a thing that is not at all, Jesus Christ may be in him, the life of grace and holiness, waiting for the time of our redemption.”

6. But much was he humbled by the consideration of his past sins; In one of his letters to his director, he writes thus, “my faults are as one great heap, which I feel in myself, obstructing the light from God. I am strangely remiss and ungrateful, I find much in myself to confound and humble me.” In another, “I am sensible of my fault, in mentioning, that I had placed a servant in such a family. I had a motion within me, not to have spoken it; and yet it escaped from me: of which I am exceeding sensible. I should have been more faithful to the Spirit of God.” And in another, “I am as blind (or rather more) in seeing my faults as in other things. Only in general, I have a deep sense of my misery: And I can say, I am not ignorant of my unworthiness, and the deplorable corruption sin hath wrought in me. But lately I mentioned the faults of a certain person to another that knew of them before, to make him understand that he was in a better condition. But my conscience reproached me, that I might have done this without: and I confess I meddled too much in that affair. In sum, I am a straggler from God, and a ground over run with thorns.”

7. He drew yet further matter of humiliation from his rank and condition, and the secular advantages which it gave him. He not only despised, but was ashamed of them; often groaning before the majesty of God, and saying, “He was in the lowest condition according to the Spirit of Jesus Christ, and that he had great confusion to see himself in that estate.” Hence it was, that he solemnly renounced his nobility, and gave it into the hands of our Lord; that he did not love even for any one to call him _Monsieur_, and that he wholly declined the title of Marquiss (which was proper to his house) and suffered only that of Baron of _Renty_.

8. Even the gifts and graces of God made him more humble; thus producing their true effect, which is, to abase and elevate the soul both together, to raise it to God, and abase it to itself. In whatever good was done by him he assumed no share at all, but referred all to God the true source. And so in the management of all those talents, he had always his hands clean, without touching what appertaineth to God. Nor would he therefore that any one should consider him in what he said or did, but regard God alone therein. And to one who much desired a visit from him, he wrote thus, “I cannot bear the account you make of my visits and society. Let us look much upon God; let us bind ourselves strictly to Jesus Christ, that we may learn of him fully to renounce ourselves. O, my God, when will it be that we shall eye ourselves no more, when we shall speak no more of ourselves, and when all vanity shall be destroyed!”

9. He likewise esteemed himself most unworthy of any of the grace or favours of God. Of which he says to a friend, “The gifts of God are sometimes so great, that they put us beyond ourselves. As among men if a poor man receives a gift from a prince, according to the grandeur of his own power, he is utterly overwhelmed, and can find no words to express his acknowledgment: So God gives blessings that go beyond our expectations or capacities, and which make us see how unworthy we are, without daring to lift up our eyes; so doth their brightness dazzle, and their greatness astonish us.”

10. The same opinion which he had of himself he was willing, yea desirous that others likewise should have of him. “If I were to wish any thing, said he, it should be, to be much humbled, and to be treated as an off-scouring by men.” And hence he received contempt, when it came, not with patience only, but with joy: of which he gave an evident proof in his first journey to _Dijon_, whence he thus wrote to his director;

“The reports here spread concerning me are, that I have nothing but artifice and shews of devotion; and that I kept private, out of fear by coming abroad of discovering what I was. Most, I find, even of those from whom I expected quite the contrary, have sollicited against me. And hereby God hath shewn me many favours. I have been with them, and received humiliation with great joy. I have been very wary of opening myself in any thing that might recommend me to them. I have only done in my business what truth required; and for any thing else, I have made it matter of confusion, as I ought. I shall be here, I believe as one excommunicate, as the scape-goat of the old law, driven out into the wilderness for my enormous sins. I desire only to love God, and condemn myself.”

11. Nor was it only in his words but in his actions also, that the humility of his heart appeared. Since his entire dedication of himself to God, he would not suffer a cushion to be carried to church for him; but to be there hid and disregarded, he often mingled himself among mechanics and mean persons. He kept himself always as much as he could at the lower end of the church; and frequently, if the door was shut, said his prayers on the outside of it, that he “might not, as he said, put any to the trouble of opening it to a poor sinner.”

*12. During the war at _Paris_, he went himself to buy bread for the poor, and carried through the streets as much as his strength would permit. At the same time offering to take into his care the church plate of a monastery, he pressed them to let him carry it to his lodging, (which was two miles thence) and on foot as he was, a very large and weighty piece. And being desired that when he did them the favour to visit them again, he would come in his coach, by reason of the distance; he answered, “he did not love to make use of a coach, he must endeavour to make himself in every thing very little.” He went therefore thither on foot, and returned at five or six, in the shortest days, sometimes in thawing weather. And being told of the pains he took, he replied, “Our Lord took pains in a far other manner.”

13. When he was assisting with his own hand in the repairing of one of his houses, he thus expressed himself:

“Blessed for ever be our great God, by Jesus Christ! I believe I ought to labour in the lowest employments; and the time I spend therein, I count very dear, regarding it as ordered by God. What makes me the more to know it is his order, is this; that from time to time I feel more of retribution from him in one instant, than the patience and humiliation of a sinner could merit in all his life. He so opens himself to me, that I am quite mollified, and melted into tears. My eyes are so full of them, that often I have much ado to keep them in, pierced as I am with love, with reverence, and with acknowledgment of his goodness manifested by his enlightning presence, and of his inexplicable conduct. I see, we are not, by a spirit of pride, under pretence of the glory of God, to dispense with ourselves from labouring in things mean and painful. It was a work very gross and mean for Jesus Christ to converse with men, who had more of rudeness than these stones I deal with. O that I may obtain a part in his obedience, and submission to the orders of God his Father.”

14. Being one day to go to a person of great quality, in a business that much concerned the glory of God, he would not use his coach, tho’ he was to traverse in a manner all _Paris_, and it poured down rain. One moved, that at least his footman might carry a cloak, which he might take when he came thither. But he yielded not. Only he consented to throw the cloak over him: and in the nobleman’s house he laid aside the wet cloak, and appeared in the other ordinary one of his own.

15. Behold another effect of his humility, of which he writ to his director, _December 26, 1646_.

“The other day my Lord Chancellor’s lady sent me a packet of letters, in which were some from the king, wherein I was made counsellor of state. I sent her word, that I received what had the mark of the king with all respect. But I most humbly begged she would be pleased to take it in good part, if I did not accept those letters, but desired that the business might sleep without noise. My disposition towards affairs of this nature is, to have nothing at all to do with them. If they come upon me perforce, without my seeking, our Lord will give me strength to bear them.”

16. To the same person on another occasion, he wrote as follows:

“Walking one day through the streets of _Paris_, in a mean dress, I deeply reflected on that of the apostle, _We are become as the filth and off-scowering of the world_. I considered how much neatness and new things, even in the most trifling instances, do hurt (if one take not good heed) the simplicity and lowliness of a Christian spirit. And I saw it was a great temptation for any, to think to preserve his outward grandeur, in hopes thereby to have more weight and authority for the service of God. This is a pretence, indeed, that the infirmity of most Christians makes use of in the beginning: but experience draws them at last to Jesus Christ, who was made the lowest of men.”

17. A further proof of his humility, was his carriage to the director. He did nothing that concerned himself, without his conduct: to him he proposed whatever he designed, either by speaking or writing, clearly and punctually, desiring “his advice, his pleasure, and blessing upon it;” and that with the utmost respect and submission: and without reply or disputing, he simply and exactly followed his order. His director having written to him, he answered in these terms; “I beseech you to believe, that although I am most imperfect and a great sinner, yet if you do me the favour to send me a word of what you know to be necessary for me, I hope with God’s help to profit thereby. I pant not after any thing but to find God and Jesus Christ, in simplicity and truth. I pretend to nothing in this world but this; and beside this I desire nothing.”

18. The last effect of his humility we shall mention, was his extreme contempt of the world. He despised all which it could give or promise; all its goods, pleasures, honours, dignities; counted all its allurements as dung and dross, trampled under foot all its glories. He beheld for this end our Lord for his pattern, who, from his very first entrance into it, made an open profession of an absolute contempt of it, “_Because he was not of the world_.”

*19. To animate a lady with the same spirit, he wrote to her thus: “I wonder how a thing so little as man, drawn out of nothing in his original, infected with his first parent’s sin, and the addition of his own: when he is raised to so high a degree of honour, as to be one with Christ the Son of God; can continue to esteem the world, or make any account of its vanities! Shall the things of the earth waste the little time we have to secure the treasures of heaven; things that will all pass away like a dream: as we see our fathers are gone already, and there is no more remembrance of them: their joys and griefs, their pleasures and pains, are they not all vanished away? And are we not sure they were out of their senses, if they considered any thing but God in their ways? The same will befall us: Every thing else will pass away, and God alone will abide.”

*The same lady, in another letter, he encourages thus: “Courage, all is well! We must die to the world, and search out the hindrances it brings to our perfection. We must live in the world as not living there; possess it, as not possessing it. Let us drive out of our minds the affection to our fine houses; let us ruin the delights of our gardens; let us burn our groves; let us banish these vain images which we have of our children; approving in them what we condemn in ourselves, the show and glitter of the world.”

*I know there is a difference of conditions; but all ought to reject those intailments on noble blood, (as men account them) those principles of aspiring to the highest, and of bearing nothing. Let us take from them this vanity of mind, this stateliness of behaviour. Let us arm them against the pernicious examples of those grandees in story, whose punishments are as eminent in hell, as their presumption was upon earth.

*“My design is not, that you should demolish your walk, or let your gardens run into a wilderness. The ruins I speak of must be made in our own minds, not executed on things insensible. When I say, we must set all on fire, my thoughts were, to follow that admirable spirit of the apostle, who would that we have poverty amidst our riches, and divestment in the midst of our possessions: he means, that our spirit be thoroughly purified and separated from all creatures; because a Christian does himself great wrong, if he entertains in his heart any other inclinations than those of Jesus Christ, who saw all the world without destroying it, but withal without cleaving to it.”

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.”