Art. X ch. VI. Two remedies prescribed by St. Gregory

476. THE passion of anger may be weakened, says St. Gregory, in two ways. The first is that, before acting, we unfold to our mind's eye all the insults that may be showered upon us, to the end that considering what our dear Lord has been pleased to endure for love of us, we may dispose ourselves to put up with them for His sake. We have indicated this consideration in the foregoing Article, as calculated to enable us to bear misfortune patiently; but, since St. Gregory repeatedly prescribes it as a preservative against several spiritual ailments, it is right that we should frequently recommend it. The holy Doctor then says, that a Christian who is insulted, wronged, and thwarted, without his having forecast such mishaps, may be likened to a soldier asleep, whom the enemy may kill without risk, as he finds him defenceless and unable to make any stand. On the contrary, he who forecasts dishonour, provocation, insults, and all he may have to suffer from the malice of his fellows, is like a soldier on the watch against the enemy's approach who, sword in hand, is ever ready to fight and to put them to rout, and constantly disposed by his watchfulness to win a glorious victory. We should, therefore, says the Saint, always (once a day perhaps would suffice) foresee the contradictions that we may have to undergo from our neighbours, in order to ward off with the breast-plate of meekness all the darts that may come from without, and to hold in check the motions of anger which may be stirred up within.

477. I just now observed, that it will be sufficient to do once a day, what the Saint would have us do almost at every turn, and this should be done at the time of morning prayer. We should then call to mind all the offensive words which by any chance may be addressed to us, all the annoyances we may have to undergo, the complaints that may be made, and whatever slights, insults, and provocations may fall to our lot. At the same time, we should— as St. Gregory teaches—set before our eyes our Redeemer, beyond compare more grievously offended by insults of the kind of which we are speaking; consider the extreme meekness and gentleness wherewith He bore all for our sake; and should thence take courage, offering ourselves from our hearts, for love of Him, to suffer the little that may befall us, without anger or resentment. With St. Basil may we say, "You will, perhaps, be overwhelmed with blows. They may even spit in your face, but your Saviour suffered this for you. Some slander will be laid to your charge, your fair fame will be blackened, but the honour of your Saviour was torn by the envenomed fangs of calumny. Your clothes may be torn off your back, ay, but so too were the clothes of your Saviour, and lots were cast for them. You may conjure up the greatest disgrace likely to be inflicted upon you, yet will you never be unjustly doomed to die and be nailed to a cross, as Christ was nailed for your sake. But if He submitted to such unspeakable ignominy for your good, can you not accept, with willing heart, some slight insult, for love of Him?" A most effectual means is this of being forearmed against the offences which may be committed against us, and of keeping the soul in readiness to allay every movement of anger that such circumstances may stir up within us.

478. St. Chrysostom says, that to appease a heart, however full of anger it may be, it suffices to keep before our eyes the examples of meekness set us by holy David. "Do not tell me," says the Saint, "that your enemy is a scoundrel, a perfidious wretch, and incorrigible to boot; for whatever you may lay to his charge, he cannot be worse than was Saul, whose life David had so often spared when it was in his power; yet this treacherous man never ceased to set fresh snares for the life of the guiltless and meek youth, and to respond to his benefits by repeated betrayals." Now, if the example of forbearance set by a mere man like ourselves, and who never had to suffer such cruel wrongs, ought to suffice (as this great Doctor teaches) to quench the flames of anger, though kindled countless times within our breasts, what will not be the power of the example of the King of Heaven, of the Monarch of the Universe, Who bore with unspeakable meekness affronts far greater, and bore them for our sake? It is surely beyond doubt that meekness will have this power, provided only that we forecast the wrongs we may have to undergo, set them side by side with what Christ endured, and encourage ourselves to the imitation of his forbearance.

479. St. Gregory proceeds to set forth the second remedy which he prescribes for curbing anger and acquiring meekness. The second means of acquiring meekness under injury is, that on beholding the excesses of others against ourselves, we call to mind the shortcomings whereby we, in our turn, have transgressed at other times. For the consideration of our weakness will help us to excuse that of others. That man will bear injury without losing his peace of mind who remembers that he too needs to be borne with; and as water quenches fire, so the recollection of our own faults will extinguish the flames of anger and rage, when kindled in our heart; for we shall be ashamed not to pardon others their offences, if only we reflect that we have much on our conscience which needs pardon.

480. The saintly Doctor means hereby, that the person who is offended, if alone he think of the many sins by which he has outraged the divine goodness, and the awful chastisements which he has deserved, will humble himself, and be convinced that he has merited the wrongs inflicted on him by his neighbour, and through this inward self-humbling, will keep down the ebullitions of the anger that are urging him on to resentment and vengeance. What criminal was there ever, who, doomed for his crimes to suffer death at the hands of the executioner on an infamous gibbet, would not gladly exchange this ignominy for the affront of a slap on the face from the hand of his enemy? And what Christian, who, on considering that for his sins he has merited everlasting death and endless torments at the hands of the infernal torturers, will refuse willingly to bear with an insulting word or deed, a malicious annoyance, or unjust grievance, at the hands of his enemy? "Not one," replies St. Bernard; "for from the knowledge of our iniquities and from repentance for them, not only does that meekness spring which can take no hurt from the venomous breath of the dragon, but a greatness of soul that is not daunted by the lion's roar.

481. The story of St. Marina is well known; but because it is most suitable for the confirmation of the teaching of the two holy Doctors just quoted, I will briefly resume it. This holy maiden was mistaken for a man, and having been admitted by certain monks into their monastery, took the habit and went by the name of Marinus. In course of time, she was falsely accused of having deflowered the daughter of one who had given her hospitality. The Abbot, on hearing such a serious charge, asked Marinus whether he was indeed guilty of so enormous a crime. Marinus was well aware that she neither was, nor could be, guilty of such an act; yet, calling to mind the other faults which she had committed in the course of her life, she would not justify herself, but replied thus to the Abbot: "I have sinned; I will do penance; do you, Father, pray for me." The Abbot boiled over with indignation; and after having had her severely beaten, expelled her the monastery, as unworthy to abide in the holy place she had brought to shame by her excesses. Now not even these extremities induced the pretended Marinus to make her innocence manifest; but, prostrate at the monastery gate, she begged of the monks, as they went in and out, pardon of her sins, and a morsel of bread to support life. After a while, the father of the seduced girl, taking in his arms the child of sin, carried it to Marinus, cast it into her lap, saying: "This is the fruit of your crime; it is your duty now to see to its support." She needed only to have revealed her sex to put her innocence beyond all doubt, to contradict the slander, to save herself from such confusion and to confound her calumniators. But no; without exculpating herself, she adopted the babe with indescribable gentleness, and began to nourish it with the little bread that was given her out of charity, as if it really were her own child; keeping ever before the eyes of the monks, and of all who entered the monastery, the tangible proof of a crime she had not committed. She continued thus to sit with the child, at the threshold, for five whole years, earning for herself the most stinging reproaches, and increasing her shame beyond measure. The Abbot, at length, moved to pity by so deserving a penitence, readmitted her; on condition, however, that she was daily to sweep and dust the monastery, carry water wherever it was needed, and wash the sandals of the monks. She bowed her head, and accepted everything in penance; not for her supposed sin, but for her other faults; and within a few days after, she died. On hearing the news of her death, the Abbot observed: "Was he not, in truth, a wicked and dissolute monk, since God has not allowed him length of days sufficient to complete his penance? He does not deserve to lie in the cemetery with the other monks; pay his remains the usual duty of washing them, and let him be buried without the sacred inclosure." The monks did as he commanded, and then it was that death made known the innocence of Marina, which she forebore to vindicate in her life time.

482. I can hardly believe that the annals of the Church contain an instance of more heroic meekness. The holy maid, ruined in her honour by so atrocious a slander, rendered the butt of the most biting reproaches and an object of abhorrence to the Community—who declared her unfit to live in the monastery, and condemned her to drag out a most wretched existence—not only felt no resentment, nor was inflamed with indignation against the girl who slandered her, but would not even exculpate herself or give proof of her innocence. And why was this? It was because she fixed her eyes on her own faults which, slight as they were, she believed deserving of shame, reproach and insult. The thought was ever before her mind that she had sinned, that she must do penance, and this sufficed to keep her heart as gentle as that of a dove, amid so many outrages. Therefore, in times of persecution, of affronts, of injuries, let us follow the advice of St. Gregory; let us fix our eyes on our sins, and upon the grievous chastisements which they deserve; a thought which alone will suffice to calm our irritated spirit, to lay the uprisings of anger, to soothe the appetite for revenge, and to enable us to deal in all meekness with those that have offended us.