Purgatory: Doctrinal, Historical, and Poetical Part 6

In the history of the incomparable order of the great St. Dominic, it is authentically related that one of the first of those holy, religious men was wont to say, that he found himself not so much concerned to pray for the souls in Purgatory, because they are certain of their salvation; and that, upon this account, we ought not, in his judgment, to be very solicitous for them, but ought rather to bend our whole care to help sinner, to convert the wicked, and to secure such souls as are uncertain of their salvation, and probably certain of their d.a.m.nation, as leading very evil lives. Here it is, said he, that I willingly employ my whole endeavors. It is upon these that I bestow my Ma.s.ses and prayers, and all that little that is at my disposal; and thus I take it to be well bestowed. But upon souls that have an a.s.surance of eternal happiness, and can never more lose G.o.d or offend Him, I believe not, said he, that one ought to be so solicitous. This certainly was but a poor and weak discourse, to give it no severer a censure; and the consequence of it was this, that the good man did not only himself forbear to help these poor souls, but, which was worse, dissuaded others from doing it; and, under color of a greater charity, withdrew that succor which, otherwise, good people would liberally have afforded them. But G.o.d took their cause in hand; for, permitting the souls to appear and show themselves in frightful shapes, and to haunt the good man by night and day without respite, still filling his fancy with dreadful imaginations, and his eyes with terrible spectacles, and withal letting him know who they were, and why, with G.o.d's permission, they so importuned him with their troublesome visits, you may believe the good Father became so affectionately kind to the souls in Purgatory, bestowed so many Ma.s.ses and prayers upon them, preached so fervently in their behalf, stirred up so many to the same devotion, that it is a thing incredible to believe, and not to be expressed with eloquence. Never did you see so many and so clear and convincing reasons as he alleged, to demonstrate that it is the most eminent piece of fraternal charity in this life to pray for the souls departed. Love and fear are the two most excellent orators in the world; they can teach all rhetoric in a moment, and infuse a most miraculous eloquence.

This good Father, who thought he should have been frightened to death, was grown so fearful of a second a.s.sault, that he bent his whole understanding to invent the most pressing and convincing arguments to stir up the world both to pity and to piety, and so persuade souls to help souls; and it is incredible what good ensued thereupon. (Pp. 82- 84.)

Is there anything within the whole circ.u.mference of the universe so worthy of compa.s.sion, and that may so deservedly claim the greatest share in all your devotions and charities, as to see our fathers, our mothers, our nearest and dearest relations, to lie broiling in cruel flames, and to cry to us for help with tears that are able to move cruelty itself? Whence I conclude there is not upon the earth any object that deserves more commiseration than this, nor where fraternal charity can better employ all her forces. (P. 86.)

St. Thomas tells us there is an order to be observed in our works of charity to our neighbor; that is, we are to see where there is a greater obligation, a greater necessity, a greater merit, and the like circ.u.mstances. Now, where is there more necessity, or more obligation, than to run to the fire, and to help those that lie there, and are not able to get out? Where can you have more merit, than to have a hand in raising up Saints and servants of G.o.d? Where have you more a.s.surance than where you are sure to lose nothing? Where can you find an object of more compa.s.sion, than where there is the greatest misery in the world? Where is there seen more of G.o.d's glory, than to send new Saints into heaven to praise G.o.d eternally? Lastly, where can you show more charity, and more of the love of G.o.d, than to employ your tears, your sighs, your goods, your hands, your heart, your life, and all your devotion, to procure a good that surpa.s.ses all other goods; I mean, to make souls happy for all eternity, by translating them into heavenly joys, out of insupportable torments? That glorious Apostle of the Indies, St. Francis Xavier, could run from one end of the world to the other, to convert a soul, and think it no long journey. The dangers by sea and land seemed sweet, the tempests pleasing, the labor easy, and his whole time well employed. Good G.o.d! what an advantage have we, that with so little trouble and few prayers, may send a thousand beautiful souls into heaven, without the least hazard of losing anything? St.

Francis Xavier could not be certain that the j.a.panese, for example, whom he baptized, would persevere in their faith; and, though they should persevere in it, he could have as little certainty of their salvation. Now, it is an article of our faith, that the holy souls in Purgatory are in grace, and shall a.s.suredly one day enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. (Pp. 91, 92.)

We read in the life of St. Catherine of Bologna, ... that she had not only a strange tenderness for the souls, but a singular devotion to them, and was wont to recommend herself to them in all her necessities.

The reason she alleged for it was this: that she had learned of Almighty G.o.d how she had frequently obtained far greater favors by their intercession than by any other means. And the story adds this: that it often happened that what she begged of G.o.d, at the intercession of the Saints in heaven, she could never obtain of Him; and yet, as soon as she addressed herself to the souls in Purgatory she had her suit instantly granted. Can there be any question but there are souls in that purging fire who are of a higher pitch of sanct.i.ty, and of far greater merit in the sight of G.o.d, than a thousand and a thousand Saints who are already glorious in the Court of Heaven. (P. 102.)

Cardinal Baronius, a man of credit beyond exception, relates, in his Ecclesiastical Annals, how a person of rare virtue found himself dangerously a.s.saulted at the hour of his death; and that, in this agony, he saw the heavens open and about eight thousand champions, all covered with white armor, descend, who fell instantly to encourage him by giving him this a.s.surance: that they were come to fight for him and to disengage him from that doubtful combat. And when, with infinite comfort, and tears in his eyes, he besought them to do him the favor to let him know who they were that had so highly obliged him: "We are,"

said they, "the souls whom you have saved and delivered out of Purgatory; and now, to requite the favor, we are come down to convey you instantly to heaven." And with that, he died.

We read another such story of St. Gertrude; how she was troubled at her death to think what must become of her, since she had given away all the rich treasure of her satisfactions to redeem other poor souls, without reserving anything to herself; but that Our Blessed Saviour gave her the comfort to know that she was not only to have the like favor of being immediately conducted into heaven out of this world, by those innumerable souls whom she had sent thither before her by her fervent prayers, but was there also to receive a hundred-fold of eternal glory in reward of her charity. By which examples we may learn that we cannot make better use of our devotion and charity than this way. (Pp. 104, 105.)

The Church Triumphant, to speak properly, cannot satisfy, because there is no place for penal works in the Court of Heaven, whence all grief and pain are eternally banished.

Wherefore, the Saints may well proceed by way of impetration and prayers; or, at most, represent their former satisfactions, which are carefully laid up in the treasury of the Church, in lieu of those which are due from others; but, as for any new satisfaction or payment derived from any penal act of their own, it is not to be looked for in those happy mansions of eternal glory.

The Church Militant may do either; as having this advantage over the Church Triumphant, that she can help the souls in Purgatory by her prayers and satisfactory works, and by offering up her charitable suffrages, wherewith to pay the debts of those poor souls who are run in arrear in point of satisfaction due for their sins. Had they but fasted, prayed, labored, or suffered a little more in this life, they had gone directly into heaven; what they unhappily neglected we may supply for them, and it will be accepted for good payment, as from their bails and sureties. You know, he that stands surety for another takes the whole debt upon himself. This is our case; for, the living, as it were, entering bond for the dead, become responsible for their debts, and offer up fasts for fasts, tears for tears, in the same measure and proportion as they were liable to them, and so defray the debt of their friends at their own charge, and make all clear. (Pp.

117, 118.)

I am in love with that religious practice of Bologna, where, upon funeral days, they cause hundreds and thousands of Ma.s.ses to be said for the soul departed, in lieu of other superfluous and vain ostentations. They stay not for the anniversary, nor for any other set day; but instantly do their best to release the poor soul from her torments, who must needs think the year long, if she must stay for help till her anniversary day appears. They do not, for all this, despise the laudable customs of the Church; they bury their friends with honor; they clothe great numbers of poor people; they give liberal alms; but, as there is nothing so certain, nothing so efficacious, nothing so divine, as the Holy Sacrifice of the Ma.s.s, they fix their whole affection there, and strive all they can to relieve the souls this way; and are by no means so lavish, as the fas.h.i.+on is, in other idle expenses and inopportune feastings, which are often more troublesome to the living than comfortable to the dead.

But you may not only comfort the afflicted souls by procuring Ma.s.ses for them, nor yet only by offering up your prayers, fasts, alms-deeds, and such other works of piety; but you may bestow upon them all the good you do, and all the evil you suffer, in this world.... If you offer up unto G.o.d all that causes you any grief or affliction, for the present relief of the poor languis.h.i.+ng souls, you cannot believe what ease and comfort they will find by it. (Pp. 123-125).

The world has generally a great esteem of Monsieur d'Argenton, Philip Commines; and many worthily admire him for the great wisdom and sincerity he has labored to express in his whole history. But, for my part, I commend him for nothing more than for the prudent care he took here for the welfare of his own soul in the other world. For, having built a goodly chapel at the Augustinians in Paris, and left them a good foundation, he tied them to this perpetual obligation, that they should no sooner rise from table, but they should be sure to pray for the rest of this precious soul. And he ordered it thus, by his express will, that one of the religious should first say aloud: "Let us pray for the soul of Monsieur d'Argenton;" and then all should instantly say the psalm _De Profundis_. Gerson lost not his labor when he took such pains to teach little children to repeat often these words: "My G.o.d, my Creator, have pity on Thy poor servant, John Gerson." For these innocent souls, all the while the good man was dying, and after he was dead, went up and down the town with a mournful voice, singing the short lesson he had taught them, and comforting his dear soul with their innocent prayers.

Now, as I must commend their prudence who thus wisely cast about how to provide for their own souls, against they come into Purgatory, so I cannot but more highly magnify their charity, who, less solicitous for themselves, employ their whole care to save others out of that dreadful fire. And sure I am, they can lose nothing by the bargain, who dare thus trust G.o.d with their own souls, while they do their uttermost to help others; nay, though they should follow that unparalleled example of Father Hernando de Monsoy, of the Society of Jesus, who, not content to give away all he could from himself to the poor souls, while he lived, made them his heirs after death; and, by express will, bequeathed them all the Ma.s.ses, rosaries, and whatsoever else should be offered for him by his friends upon earth. (Pp. 131-132.)

It will not be amiss here to resolve you certain pertinent questions.

Whether the suffrages we offer up unto G.o.d shall really avail them for whom we offer them; and whether they alone, or others also, may receive benefit by them? Whether it be better to pray for a few at once, or for many, or for all the souls together, and for what souls in particular?

To the first I answer: if your intention be to help any one in particular who is really in Purgatory, so your work be good, it is infallibly applied to the person upon whom you bestow it. For, as divines teach, it is the intention of the offerer which governs all; and G.o.d, of His infinite goodness, accommodates Himself to the pet.i.tioner's request, applying unto each one what has been offered for its relief. If you have n.o.body in your thoughts for whom you offer up your prayers, they are only beneficial to yourself; and what would be thus lost for want of application, G.o.d lays up in the treasury of the Church, as being a kind of spiritual waif or stray, to which n.o.body can lay any just claim. And, since it is the intention which ent.i.tles one to what is offered before all others, what right can others pretend to it; or with what justice can it be parted or divided amongst others, who were never thought of?

And hence I take my starting-point to resolve your other question--that if you regard their best advantage whom you have a mind to favor, you had better pray for a few than for many together; for, since the merit of your devotions is but limited, and often in a very small proportion, the more you divide and subdivide it amongst many, the lesser share comes to every one in particular. As if you should distribute a crown or an angel [1] amongst a thousand poor people, you easily see your alms would be so inconsiderable, they would be little better for it; whereas, if it were all bestowed upon one or two, it were enough to make them think themselves rich.

[Footnote 1: A gold coin of that period so called because it was stamped with the image of an angel.]

Now, to define precisely, whether it be always better done, to help one or two souls efficaciously, than to yield a little comfort to a great many, is a question I leave for you to exercise your wits in. I could fancy it to be your best course to do both; that is, sometimes to single out some particular soul, and to use all your powers to lift her up to heaven; sometimes, again, to parcel out your favors upon many; and, now and then, also to deal out a general alms upon all Purgatory.

And you need not fear exceeding in this way of charity, whatsoever you bestow; for you may be sure nothing will be lost by it. And St. Thomas will tell you, for your comfort, that since all the souls in Purgatory are perfectly united in charity, they rejoice exceedingly when they see any of their whole number receive such powerful helps as to dispose her for heaven. They every one take it as done to themselves, whatsoever is bestowed upon any of their fellows, whom they love as themselves; and, out of a heavenly kind of courtesy, and singular love, they joy in her happiness, as if it were their own. So that it may be truly said, that you never pray for one or more of them, but they are all partakers, and receive a particular comfort and satisfaction by it. (Pp. 132-134.)

It would go hard with many, were it true that a person who neglected to make rest.i.tution in his life-time, and only charged his heirs to do it for him in his last will and testament, shall not stir out of Purgatory till rest.i.tution be really made; let there be never so many Ma.s.ses said, and never so many satisfactory works offered up for him. And yet St. Bridget, whose revelations are, for the most part, approved by the Church, hesitates not to set this down for a truth which G.o.d had revealed unto her. Nor are there wanting grave divines that countenance this rigorous position, and bring for it many strong reasons and examples, which they take to be authentical: and the law itself, which says that if a man do not restore another's goods, there will always stick upon the soul a kind of blemish, or obligation of justice. And since the fault lies wholly at his door, he cannot, say they, have the least reason to complain of the severity of G.o.d's justice, but must accuse his own coldness and extreme neglect of his own welfare. Nay, even those that are of the contrary persuasion, yet maintain that it is not only much more secure, but far more meritorious, to satisfy such obligations while we live, than to trust others with it, let them be never so near and dear to us.... (Pp. 140, 141.)

... I have just cause to fear that all I can say to you will hardly suffice to mollify that hard heart of yours; and, therefore, my last refuge shall be to set others on, though I call them out of the other world.

And first, let a d.a.m.ned soul read you a lecture, and teach you the compa.s.sion you ought to bear to your afflicted brethren. Remember how the rich glutton in the Gospel, although he was buried in h.e.l.l-fire, took care for his brothers who survived him; and besought Abraham to send Lazarus back into the world, to preach and convert them, lest they should be so miserable as to come into that place of torments. A strange request for a d.a.m.ned soul! and which may shame you, that are so little concerned for the souls of your brethren, who are in so restless a condition.

In the next place, I will bring in the soul of your dear father, or mother, to make her own just complaints against you. Lend her, then, a dutiful and attentive ear; and let none of her words be lost; for she deserves to be heard out, while she sets forth the state of her most lamentable condition. Peace! it is a holy soul, though clothed in flames, that directs her speech to you after this manner:

"Am I not the most unfortunate and wretched parent that ever lived? I that was so silly as to presume that having ventured my life, and my very soul also, to leave my children at their ease, they would at least have had some pity on me, and endeavor to procure for me some ease and comfort in my torments. Alas! I burn insufferably, I suffer infinitely, and have done so, I know not how long; and yet this is not the only thing that grieves me. Alas, no! it is a greater vexation to me to see myself so soon forgotten by my own children, and so slighted by them, for whom I have in vain taken so much care and pains. Ah, dost thou grudge thy poor mother a Ma.s.s, a slight alms, a sigh, or a tear? Thy mother, I say, who would most willingly have kept bread from her own mouth, to make thee swim in an ocean of delights, and to abound with plenty of all worldly goods? ... Who will not refuse me comfort, when my own children, my very bowels, do their best to forget me? What a vexation is it to me, when my companions in misery ask me whether I left no children behind me, and why they are so hard-hearted as to neglect me?.... I was willing to forget my own concerns to be careful of theirs; and those ungrateful ones have now buried me in an eternal oblivion, and clearly left me to s.h.i.+ft for myself in these dread tortures, without giving me the least ease or comfort. Oh, what a fool was I! had I given to the poor the thousandth part of those goods which I left these miserable children, I had long before this been joyfully singing the praises of my Creator, in the choir of Angels; whereas now I lie panting and groaning under excessive torments, and am like still to lie, for any relief that is to be looked for from these undutiful, ungracious children whom I made my sole heirs.... But am I not all this while strangely transported, miserable that I am, thus to amuse myself with unprofitable complaints against my children; whereas, indeed, I have but small reason to blame any but myself? since it is I, and only I, that am the cause of all this mischief. For did not I know that in the grand business of saving my soul, I was to have trusted none but myself? did I not know that with the sight of their friends, at their departure, men used to lose all the memory and friends.h.i.+p they had for them?.... Did I not know that G.o.d Himself had foretold us, that the only ready way to build ourselves eternal tabernacles in the next world, is not to give all to our children, but to be liberal to the poor?.... I cannot deny, then, but the fault lies at my door, and that I am deservedly thus neglected by my children.... The only comfort I have left me in all my afflictions, is, that others will learn at my cost this clear maxim: not to leave to others a matter of such near concern as the ease and repose of their own souls; but to provide for them carefully themselves. O G.o.d! how dearly have I bought this experience; to see my fault irreparable, and my misery without redress!" (Pp. 146-149.)

One must have a heart of steel, or no heart at all, to hear these sad regrets, and not feel some tenderness for the poor souls, and as great an indignation against those who are so little concerned for the souls of their parents and other near relations. I wish, with all my soul, that all those who shall light upon this pa.s.sage, and hear the soul so bitterly deplore her misfortune, may but benefit themselves half as much by it as a good prelate did when the soul of Pope Benedict VIII, by G.o.d's permission, revealed unto him her lamentable state in Purgatory. [1] For so the story goes, which is not to be questioned: This Pope Benedict appears to the Bishop of Capua, and conjures him to go to his brother, Pope John, who succeeded him in the Chair of St.

Peter, and to beseech him, for G.o.d's sake, to give great store of alms to poor people, to allay the fury of the fire of Purgatory, with which he found himself highly tormented. He further charges him to let the Pope know withal, that he did acknowledge liberal alms had already been distributed for that purpose; but had found no ease at all by it because all the money that had been then bestowed was acquired unjustly, and so had no power to prevail before the just tribunal of G.o.d for the obtaining of the least mercy. The good Bishop, upon this, makes haste to the Pope, and faithfully relates the whole conference that had pa.s.sed between him and the soul of his predecessor; and with a grave voice and lively accent enforces the necessity and importance of the business; that, in truth, when a soul lies a burning, it is in vain to dispute idle questions; the best course, then, is to run instantly for water, and to throw it on with both hands, calling for all the help and a.s.sistance we can, to relieve her; and that His Holiness should soon see the truth of the vision by the wonderful effects which were like to follow. All this he delivers so gravely, and so to the purpose, that the Pope resolves out of hand to give in charity vast sums out of his own certain and unquestionable revenue; whereby the soul of Pope Benedict was not only wonderfully comforted, but, questionless, soon released of her torments. In conclusion, the good Bishop, having well reflected with himself in what a miserable condition he had seen the soul of a Pope who had the repute of a Saint, and was really so, worked so powerfully with him, that, quitting his mitre, crosier, bishopric, and all worldly greatness, he shut himself up in a monastery, and there made a holy end; choosing rather to have his Purgatory in the austerity of a cloister than in the flames of the Church suffering. (Pp. 150, 151.)

[Footnote 1: Baronius, _An._ 1024.]

I wish, again, they would in this but follow the example of King Louis of France, who was son to Louis the Emperor, surnamed the Pious. For they tell us [1] that this Emperor, after he had been thirty-three years in Purgatory, not so much for any personal crimes or misdemeanors of his own as for permitting certain disorders in his empire, which he ought to have prevented, was at length permitted to show himself to King Louis, his son, and to beg his favorable a.s.sistance; and that the king did not only most readily grant him his request, procuring Ma.s.ses to be said in all the monasteries of his realm for the soul of his deceased father, but drew thence many good reflections and profitable instructions, which served him all his life-time after. Do you the same; and believe it, though Purgatory fire is a kind of baptism, and is so styled by some of the holy Fathers, because it cleanses a soul from all the dross of sin, and makes it worthy to see G.o.d, yet is it your sweetest course, here to baptize yourself frequently in the tears of contrition, which have a mighty power to cleanse away all the blemishes of sin; and so prevent in your own person, and extinguish in others, those baptismal flames of Purgatory fire, which are so dreadful. (Pp. 151, 152.)

[Footnote 1: Baronius, _An_. 874.]

What shall I say of those other nations, whose natural piety led them to place burning lamps at the sepulchres of the dead, and strew them over with sweet flowers and odoriferous perfumes. [1] Do they not put Christians in mind to remember the dead, and to cast after them the sweet incense of their devout sighs and prayers, and the perfumes of their alms-deeds, and other good works?

[Footnote 1: Herod lib. 2.]

It was very usual with the old Romans to shed whole floods of tears, to reserve them in phial-gla.s.ses, and to bury them with the urns, in which the ashes of their dead friends were carefully laid up; and by them to set lamps, so artificially composed as to burn without end. By which symbols they would give us to understand, that neither their love nor their grief should ever die; but that they would always be sure to have tears in their eyes, love in their hearts, and a constant memory in their souls for their deceased friends....

They had another custom, not only in Rome but elsewhere, to walk about the burning pile where the corpse lay, and, with their mournful lamentations, to keep time with the doleful sound of their trumpets; and still, every turn, to cast into the fire some precious pledge of their friends.h.i.+p. The women themselves would not stick to throw in their rings, bracelets, and other costly attires, nay, their very hair also, the chief ornament of their s.e.x; and they would have been sometimes willing to have thrown in both their eyes, and their hearts too. Nor were there some wanting, that in earnest threw themselves into the fire, to be consumed with their dear spouses; so that it was found necessary to make a severe law against it; such was the tenderness that they had for their deceased friends, such was the excess of a mere natural affection. Now, our love is infused from Heaven; it is supernatural, and consequently ought to be more active and powerful to stir up our compa.s.sion for the souls departed; and yet we see the coldness of Christians in this particular; how few there are who make it their business to help poor souls out of their tormenting flames. It is not necessary to make laws to hinder any excess in this article; it were rather to be wished that a law were provided to punish all such ungrateful persons as forgot the duty they owe to their dead parents, and all the obligations they have to the rest of their friends. (Pp.

156-158.)

It is a pleasure to observe the constant devotion of the Church of Christ in all ages, to pray for the dead. And first, to take my rise from the Apostles' time, there are many learned interpreters, who hold that baptism for the dead, of which the Apostle speaks, [1] to be meant only of the much fasting, prayer, alms-deeds, and other voluntary afflictions, which the first Christians undertook for the relief of their deceased friends. But I need not fetch in obscure places to prove so clear an Apostolical and early custom in G.o.d's Church.