A Soldier's Confidences with God Spiritual Colloquies of Giosue Borsi Hi UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES 1/UcCU- I of CALIFORNIA Soldier's Confidences Cjod LIEUTENANT GIOSUE BORSI KII.I.I 11 IN ACTION, 10 NOVI-MBI-K 1915 Soldiers (Confidences ^ith Qod Spiritual Colloquies of Giosue Borsi Authorized Translation by Rev. Pasquale Maltese Appreciation and Foreword by Arthur Benington New York P. J. Kenedy & Sons 1919 itnl Cbotat: ARTHUR J. SCANLAN, S.T.D. Censor Librorum Imprimatur: *$4 JOHN CARDINAL FARLEY, D.D. Archbishop of New York NEW YORK, April 12th, 1918 COPYRIGHT, I9l8, BY P. J. KENEDY & SONS 6V TO VERDIANA BORSI ' MOTHER TRULY PERFECT THE GUIDING INFLUENCE OF A GLORIOUS SON I DEDICATE THIS BOOK. ^Publishers AMONG the heroes of war, there is none more inspiring than Giosub Borsi, the young Italian lieutenant who died on the Isonzo battlefield while leading his platoon to the attack. He went to the front as a volunteer with the clear and inflexible idea of fulfilling a sacred duty, with the presentiment he had always in his soul of sacrificing his life for his country. He did not deceive himself. He traced a program of acJion which he carried out without hesitation. To Lieutenant Mazzinghi on Odober iSth he wrote : " / have made up my mind to do my duty to the end, and to be a good example to my soldiers. I hope the Lord will help me and that my beloved dead will look down on me and that the prayers of my mother will assist me. If I am sure of vidory and of the unfailing triumph of our army, I am not equally sure that I shall see all these beautiful things here below. On the contrary, my presentiment is that in moving to the assault I am going to be released from the ties that bind me to this world. I do not know why, but I could almost swear to this." Twenty-three days later his presentiment was fulfilled. Appreciation and Foreword FLOWERS might live forever, but they can never bear fruit until they die. On first glancing over the manuscripts left by Giosue Borsi one's impulse is to heave a sigh of regret that such a splendid young fruit tree had to perish while yet in bloom. Had he but lived to maturity how he would have filled the world with the perfume of his sanctity! How many men young men especially would he have attracted to the Faith! What new life he would have infused into devotional literature! What masterpieces of religious art died with him! Surely he had in him the makings of a modern St. Paul, a new St. Fran- cis, a twentieth century Dante Alighieri! But as one reads further and thinks - for these writings of his are veritable generators of thought - - the sigh of re- gret turns into a cry of rejoicing, a paean of thanksgiving. For this was one of [vii] A PPRECI ATION those trees of which the blossoms needs must die before they can bear fruit. These meditations Colloquies, he called them are the ripe fruits of that heroic death on Mt. Zagora on November loth, 1915. But for that death they would have remained the secrets of a soul. They were not written for publication; they were the intimate talks of a soul with God, private memoranda, as it were, to serve that soul in its future struggles towards the perfection to which it aspired. Borsi wrote them for himself and God, and not at all for the world. While he lived they could never be printed. But these records of a soldier's soul were far too precious to be lost; therefore he had to die, and die just as he did, in battle for his Country. Borsi believed that these Colloquies were inspired by God. He reiterated his conviction that we do nothing good of ourselves, that we are merely the tools with which God works out His own mys- terious designs, and that all we can do is to make sure that we are good tools, always sharp, always polished, always C viii ] APPRECIATION ready at hand when our Master has need of us. He felt sometimes that even in writing these daily Colloquies he was but a tool with which God was carry- ing out some design of which he, the tool, knew nothing. He even foresaw his death and had a feeling that in this also God would use him for His divine ends. It is well that he could not know the use God planned to make of these Colloquies, for, had he known, they would have been less ingenuous, less sin- cere, he would have tried to give them literary form, to make them artistic - and so he would have failed, for it is precisely because of their frank ingenu- ousness, their absolute sincerity and lack of art that they are so powerful, so touching, so convincing. They are not art, but they are the pure outpourings of an intensely artistic soul; they are not polished and refined, but they are the handiwork of a most refined nature. Whether directly inspired or not, they are the written records of a soul in inti- mate communion with God, overflowing with enthusiasm for a new-found but [ix] APPRE CI ATION unshakable faith, buoyed up by a radiant hope, and burning with the most ardent love. Such writings are the purest form of literature, a form that many have tried but in which few in modern days have shone. They have been called by the most exacting of Italian critics the "finest religious literature that has appeared since the Confessions of St. Augustine." In places they are comparable to the Psalms of David; in others to the Lamentations of Jeremias, while here and there the inspiration of the Apocalypse of St. John is evident in their thought as in their phraseology. But throughout they bear the stamp of Borsi's individuality. They were w y ritten by no anchorite, no cloistered mystic, but by a young man of the world, poet, scholar, amateur aclor, dramatic critic, commentator of Dante, darling of the salons of the gay world of Rome and Florence. His father, Ave- rardo Borsi, was a clever journalist who made a political platform of his hatred of the Catholic Church and who brought up his son in an atmosphere of hostility to religion. Out of deference to the APPRECIATION wishes of a pious mother the boy was baptized and made his first Communion, but this was the last for many years. Losing three of his dearest ones in rapid succession shook Giosue's hopes of earthly happiness and at the same time brought him into friendly relations with the Fran- ciscan Monks of San Miniato. Later he came under the influence of Father Alfani, the famous astronomer, physicist, and seismologist. In the spring of 1915 he found the way of happiness, devoutly re- ceived confirmation and plunged with all the ardor of a neophyte into study of the Holy Scriptures and the writings of the Fathers of the Church. Italy had just entered the War and Borsi was one of the first young officers to go to the front. He began to keep this diary of his talks with God in May; he was in the trenches in June, and he found time even there to record his daily meditations. Some of these written at the front are models of prayer for the Christian Soldier, the man who believes it a sacred duty to fight for his country; they breathe the most exalted patriotism and the tenderest of love, at [xi] A P PRE CI ATI ON the same time they are devoid of all hatred towards his enemies. He foresaw his death and was ready for it. In one of his very first battles, at Zagora on Monte Cucco, while leading his men in a desperate charge, he fell with a bullet through his heart and met death with a proud and happy smile. They found in his pocket a volume of his adored Dante, wet with his heart's blood, and a written farewell to his mother that was published in the leading newspapers of the world and at once took its place among the classics of letter writing. And so the Colloquies came to light. Such writings are all too rare to be lost, especially at a moment w r hen a world that had tried to scuttle the stanch Ship of Faith on which alone there was safety, that had mutinied against the Pilot Who alone could steer it past the sunken rocks and devilish mines and through the tortuous narrow channels to harbor, found itself materially and morally adrift and compassless on the wild black waters, fighting fiercely in the [xii] APPRECIATION sinking boats, groping blindly after some stick of wreckage to cling to in the mad despair of almost abandoned hope, reach- ing forth its blood-weary hands and cry- ing piteously for spiritual consolation. Giosue Borsi's death alone made these Colloquies the property of the world. Therefore we should be thankful that he died, and we should be thankful to Father Maltese, who has devoted two years to spreading broadcast these com- munions of a Soldier's heart with his God. May the seed thus sown bear fruit a thousandfold! ARTHUR BENINGTON [xiii] Trefc ace BOOKS like this scarcely need an introduction. No reader will fail to be charmed and edified, not only by the deep spirituality, sincerity, and eloquence, but at times even by the sublimity of Giosue Borsi's language and thought. The first thirty-five Colloquies were written at home, and the last eight- een at the front in the moments of in- spiration amid the crash of shrapnel and the thunder of guns. They were never corrected or revised, yet Giosue Borsi everywhere appears master of his own thought and style. He writes with vigor, naturalness and ease, with a beauty of form unrivaled perhaps in the annals of modern church literature. These Collo- quies, written in the form of prayers, contain an eloquent lesson to those con- templating a return to their former faith. They pay a magnificent tribute to the mercy of God and give a safe guidance to those who struggle to attain the Chris- [xv] PREFACE tian ideal of life. They are in truth the echo of the aspirations of Borsi's soul from the time that God inspired him to adopt this method of prayer until the very eve of his glorious death. Ettore Romagnoli, who on April the ninth, 1916, presided in Florence at a meeting to do honor to the art and liter- ary gifts of Giosue Borsi, thus writes of the Colloquies: "In them Giosue Borsi has recourse to God, and in a series of most ardent rhapsodies reveals his soul to Him just as it is, gradually divesting it of every shadow, every disguise, every sin. In this labor of enthusiasm and love his soul is purified, enlightened; it becomes plastic under the hand of God and shines like a diamond; the last pages of Giosue Borsi are those of a saint. We cannot make any more comment. Giosue Borsi talks directly with God. A third spirit may intervene, but only in the function of an adorer. Knowing them as I do, I want to express my opinion that his Colloquies are equal to any of the most celebrated mystical books; my presentiment is that this book shall com- [xvi] PREFACE fort and sustain many needy souls who are in anguish and desolation." What will be the fruit of an English translation of Giosue Borsi's Colloquies? That question he asked himself when he began writing them. He humbly an- swered it saying, "I do not know. Only God can guarantee its fruits. To us it belongs to sow; later on, whether we sleep or wake, the seed grows and de- velops of itself." But the wonderful success that Borsi's little book has had abroad, the many editions of it issued within a single month, warrants the hope that his spiritual colloquies will be read by the young of future generations and will accomplish untold good. They will remind both young and old, what fidelity to the grace of God can accomplish in the soul; they will bring back to the Father's House many a prodigal; and the book will bring home to all its Catholic readers the nobility of their faith and the dignity of a consistent Christian life. PASQUALE MALTESE Passion Tide, 1918 [_ xvii } (Contents BOOK ONE I. THE CONVERT BEGINS HIS CONFIDENCES WITH GOD 3 II. HE, LIKE ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI, MUSES ON THE SUPREME BLESSING OF POVERTY 10 III. HE INDICTS THE WORLD AND FINDS HIMSELF GUILTY 17 IV. HE DISCOURSES ON THE JOY OF CONVERS- ING WITH GOD 23 V. HE MEDITATES ON COMMUNION AND VENIAL SINS 32 VI. HE DISCOURSES UPON FREE WILL 37 VII. HE DETERMINES TO BE A DOER AND NOT A TALKER 49 VIII. HE, LIKE ELIAS, LONGS FOR DEATH .... 55 IX. HE REALIZES THE DESOLATION OF THE HEART FROM WHICH GOD HAS WITH- DRAWN 68 X. HE MEDITATES ON GOD'S INDULGENCE TO THOSE WHO Do THE BEST THEY CAN ... 77 XI. HE REPROACHES HIMSELF FOR PHARISA- ICAL VAINGLORY 82 XII. HE DISCOURSES ON THE FOLLY OF RELY- ING TOO MUCH ON THE FORBEARANCE OF GOD 87 XIII. HE BREAKS FORTH INTO A RHAPSODY OF HOLY LOVE 95 XIV. HE PHILOSOPHIZES ON THE SEED THAT PERISHES 102 XV. HE MEDITATES UPON THE INFINITE LOVE OF GOD 109 XVI. HE GIVES HIMSELF UP WHOLLY TO THE LOVE OF GOD , , 117 CONTENTS BOOK TWO XVII. HE FINDS OUT WHAT is THE REAL REST FOR THE SOUL 125 XVIII. HE REACHES THE THRESHOLD OF A NEW LIFE 138 XIX. HE DELIGHTS IN ANTICIPATION OF HOLY COMMUNION 143 XX. HE EXPLAINS WHY HE HOLDS ALOOF FROM AGITATION 145 XXI. HE REPROVES HIMSELF FOR HIS PHARI- SAICAL ALOOFNESS 151 XXII- HE ANALYZES HIS VANITY AND SEES THE FRUITLESSNESS THEREOF 156 XXIII. HE REPROVES HIMSELF FOR AN ILL-SPENT DAY 162 XXIV. HE CONSIGNS TO THE FLAMES ALL THE WRITINGS OF HIS PAGAN YOUTH 163 XXV. HE FINDS THAT HIS FAITH is OF THE IN- TELLECT AND NOT OF THE HEART IJl XXVI. HE APPLIES ST. JAMES'S TEXT TO WHAT HE THOUGHT WAS HIS WISDOM 178 XXVII. HE CONTINUES THE SEARCHING ANALYSIS OF HIS VAUNTED VIRTUES '. 182 XXVIII. HE BEGS FOR THE CHARITY THAT SUF- FERETH LONG AND IS KlND 1 88 XXIX. HE SOUNDS THE DEPTHS OF HIS OWN NOTHINGNESS BEFORE GOD 192 XXX. THE GLORIOUS PRAYER OF THE CHRISTIAN SOLDIER GOING FORTH TO WAR 200 XXXI. HE MEDITATES UPON THE VIRTUE OF TRANQUILITY 207 XXXII. HE MEDITATES ON THE IMPERTURBABLE SERENITY OF ALMIGHTY GOD 211 XXXIII. HE REFLECTS ON THE INCONSTANCY OF HIS NATURE, AND HOW HE FINDS A REMEDY 216 XXXIV. HE PRAYS FOR THE BLESSING OF GOD UPON THE ITALIAN ARMS 225 XXXV. HE REFLECTS ON THE MANY WAYS IN WHICH GOD IS EVER BEFORE THE M.-VN WHO WANTS TO FIND HIM 228 [xx] CONTENTS XXXVI. HE BIDS FAREWELL TO ALL HE HAS HELD DEAR IN LIFE 234 .BOOK THREE XXXVII. HE DISCOURSES ON THE RIGHTEOUSNESS OF KILLING IN A HOLY WAR 247 XXXVIII. HE PERCEIVES HOW GOD CAN DRAW BLESSINGS EVEN FROM THE SCOURGE OF WAR 251 XXXIX. HE DISCOVERS THAT VICTORY MUST BE IN HIMSELF 255 XL. HE MAKES UP HIS MIND THAT OTHERS MAY BE SAVED BY HIM 263 XLI. HE PERCEIVES THE WONDROUS ASSIST- ANCE HE IS TO HAVE IN THE WORK OF REGENERATION 270 XLII. HE REFLECTS ON THE TRIUNE TRUTH WHICH is THE SECRET OF SALVATION 274 XLIII. HE APPLIES THE TRUTH TO HIMSELF AND is READY FOR ANY SACRIFICE 275 XLIV. HE REFLECTS ON THE HORRORS OF WAR AND THE CONSOLATION OF KNOWING GOD 282 XLV. HE MEDITATES UPON THE TRIUMPH OF GOD IN THE RUIN OF WORLDS 286 XLVI. HE CONTINUES HIS MEDITATION ON THE TRIUMPH OF GOD 291 XLVII. HE PRAYS FERVENTLY FOR ITALY AND FOR HER VICTORY 295 XLVIII. HE DISCOVERS HOW MUCH MORE COURAGE IT TAKES TO FACE LIFE THAN TO FACE DEATH 302 XLIX. HE DISCOVERS WHY THE SAINTS REJECT THE MERITS OF THEIR GOOD WORKS . . . 306 L. HE MEDITATES ON PASCAL'S COMMENTARY ON THE PASSION IN THE GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE 312 LI. HE MEDITATES ON THE HYPOCRISY THAT MAKES is JUDGE AND DECEIVE OUR NEIGHBORS 316 LIT. HE READS EZECHIEL'S PROPHECIES OF GOD'S WRATH AND ULTIMATE TRIUMPH 320 [xxi] CONTENTS LIII. HE FORESEES THAT THE WORD OF PEACE WILL COME, NOT FROM THE WlSE OR GREAT OF THE WORLD, BUT FROM SOME OBSCURE MOUTH 326 LIV. HE SERENELY COMMENDS HIS SOUL TO GOD ON THE EVE OF BATTLE 332 GIOSUE BORSI'S LAST LETTER TO HIS MOTHER 337 GIOSUE BORSI'S SPIRITUAL WILL AND TESTA- MENT 35 ! xx BOOK ONE Vide ergo ne lumen, quod in te est, tenebrae sint. St ergo corpus tuum lucidum fuerit, non habens aliquam parttm tenebrarum, erit lucidum totum, ei sicut lucerna fulgoris illuminabit te. (St. Luke xi, 35, 36) Take heed therefore that the light which is in thee, be not darkness. If then thy whole body be lightsome, having no part of darkness; the whole shall be lightsome, and as a bright lamp shall enlighten thee. A Soldier's Confidences with God *The Convert begins his (Confidences "faith Qod FLORENCE, Tuesday , May ^th, 1915 O BLESSED GOD, my beloved Father, my Salvation, my Light, my Good, I need to pray and to meditate. I believe that Thy Providence has inspired me with the idea of praying and meditating in writing; and so I have made a beginning this morning, and I hope with Thy most holy assistance to continue, until this shall become an in- dispensable and delightful habit. Every morning, in the brightest and most diligent hours of the day, while the slaves of the world are still sunken in the live morass of their blind, sodden sleep, oppressed by [3] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD the weight of their feasting and laziness, I will awake with the sun, and greeted by the twittering birds, will offer on these pages, to Thee my God, the first thoughts of my day. With Thee, my Adored, must be my first colloquy. Devout, obe- dient, and loving, I will seek Thy word within me, O Lord; I will listen with attentive ear to the inspirations which Thou wilt deign to speak and suggest to me, and that all be not lost, I will per- petuate some of them in writing. Ti HEREFORE must I write," in the words of St. Augustine. Ever since the happy day in which I returned to the sac- raments that Thou instituted, my spirit has become, as it were, fruitful. Before it was waste land, bare, parched, and dry. Thy love has watered it like a shower of beneficent rain. Thy sure, strong hand has plowed and upturned it, and upon its smoking furrows has cast the seed of divine truth. Now my spirit grows green like a garden; it is carpeted with flowers; the sunlight plays within it, and the music or running waters; perfumes are wafted over [4] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI it in waves. This is but a poor and inadequate simile to give an idea of the workings of my spirit. What a garden, what flowers, what light, what perfume! Before, my spirit was the measureless realm of death, strewn with ashes and saturated with poison; to-day it is a living world. Thoughts surge upward in me now, thoughts of life and of truth. I BELIEVE, therefore, that I should meditate but illy if I were to stop and listen to their tumultuous roar in idleness and lethargy, and so let all these thoughts be lost after resounding within me for a moment. I must, therefore, learn to fix some of them with my pen, so that I may find them again and feel them better. If nothing more, this will be a trial and an aft of gratitude towards my Lord. I know the difficulties of the undertaking. My thoughts are many too many; they are a whirlwind, an ocean, an ever moving chaos of riches. But what of that? In the realm of spirit illuminated by faith there is something like what we see in the realm of charity the harvest is [5] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD always infinitely more abundant than is needed by the number and weakness of the few reapers. But what servant would be so worthless, so mean and indolent, as to sit down discouraged and refuse to do a little, just because he despairs of doing all? Surely the troubles of the world are great and without remedy; there is too much misery; the ills of society are deep and terrible, its wounds fester and are incurable. How are we to remedy all this? Each of us has but two arms, a very limited circle of influence, and slender means. What of it? A little good will, a little courage, and we shall begin to do our little bit, without haste, without anxiety, calmly, accurately, as if what W 7 e are doing were all and sufficient to remedy everything. W HO among us can know the incal- culable value of an acl of charity? Even in this world its practical value is im- mense, for itself and as an example: but who knows what is its value above, with what joy it shall be hailed in the kingdom of heaven ? The words of Jesus make us [6] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI feel its value, through the imperious insistence with which He asks it of us, through the generosity with which He promises us a certain reward He Who in the day of wrath shall consider as done unto Him every ad; of charity done unto the least of His brethren, and as denied to Him every help that is denied to the least among them. A so it is with the things of the spirit. The palace of truth has its founda- tion in the depths, and its summits are lost in the immensity of heaven. Let us not close our eyes and turn away our face because it is not granted us to see all. Let us look at what it is granted us to see, according to the light of our eyes and the keenness of our little mortal pupils! Let us adore humbly and not ask too much, for we have already enough for our happiness. The mass of error is im- mense, the world is groping in darkness; but God does not command us to save the world, he commands us only to save ourselves. Let us not be discouraged. Let us begin with ourselves, without [7] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD impatience, without flurry, and then let us speak our little truth. One out of a thousand will turn to listen for a moment. This is enough; we shall not have spoken in vain. Perhaps no one will listen; it does not matter; we shall have spoken for ourselves, and this is a great deal. He who speaks a truth adores God, and the smallest prayer rises to His throne, be it lisped ever so feebly in the deepest darkness and in the most desolate of solitudes. Nothing is in vain for Him by Whom all our hairs are numbered. J. HESE pages shall be written as spontaneously as possible, as freely as possible, nay with the greatest docility. They shall not be written for speaking, but rather for listening. Here I listen to my heart, and in my heart I try to listen to the voice of God. For this I shall avoid distraction and seek silence, \\hat will be the fruit of these incoherent meditations of mine? I do not know. God alone can guarantee the fruits. It is for us to sow, and whether we sleep or whether we wake, the seed grows of [8] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI itself. God measures and judges us by our intentions, not by the consequences and the results, which He alone rules and governs. But I hope, my God, that in concentration of mind I shall find the joy and fruitfulness of my spirit, the clear vision which I need to love Thee and to serve Thee, provided Thy grace will assist and aid me. If Thou give peace, if Thou infuse holy joy, the soul of Thy servant shall be full of melody. 1 1 Si das pacem, si gaudium sandum infundis, erit anima servi tui plena modulatione. C9] II He, JTike A$V. Francis of Assist, pluses on the Supreme blessing of Poverty Wednesday, May $th, 1915 LORD, why are we so deaf and blind when, to our shame, Thy voice is so full and strong, and Thy light so widespread and brilliant? Why? What excuse shall we be able to find to justify ourselves on the day that Thou shalt call us to judgment and ask us for an account of the use we have made of Thy gifts? We do not perceive how rich and bountiful they are, how close to us, how easily we may reach out our hands to take them, to embrace them, to breathe them, to make them our food and to intoxicate ourselves with them. Blessed Lord God, our dear Father, how good Thou art! How true is the word of the Psalmist: "Thou hast visited the earth and watered it; thou hast enriched it in [10] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI many ways." * (Ps. Ixiv, 9.) And the greater Thy goodness appears, the more manifest becomes our iniquity. Yes, our blindness and deafness are in our own consciousness, in our own will. I feel it, because I see clearly that a simple, easy effort of the will would suffice to conquer all the evil of the world. Every man can set himself free whenever he wishes to; and all mankind has always been, is to-day, and always shall at every moment be free to regain complete liberty all at once. How easy it is! Here is the great watchword : it is enough to be poor. Let us see how easy it is to understand that this is the beginning of wisdom and justice in all men and all peoples. My God, that seest into my heart infinitely better than I can see myself, Thou knowest well that I could pour into these pages torrents of truth, Thy truth, but as I do not want to lose courage I shall be satis- fied to say but little. 1 Visitasti terram et inebriasti earn; rr.ultiplicasti locu- pletare earn. [II] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD T< O be poor means to free one's self from the slavery of the world, that crucifier of the Lord, with which it is impossible to come to terms. Notice how clearly St. John sees this truth: "Love not the world, nor the things which are in the world." x (First Epistle of John, ii, 15.) He who loves the world can have none of the three indispensable virtues. He cannot believe, he cannot hope, he cannot love; above all, he cannot love. In fact St. John continues: "If any man love the world, the charity of the Father is not in him." ! (Ibid.) The poor man gives up those earthly treasures that the moth and the rust corrupt and that thieves break through and steal. Finally, the poor man gives up the infamous treasures of concupiscence, the beginning of every evil. See how the apostle continues: "For all that is in the world is the concupiscence of the flesh, and the concupiscence of the eyes and the pride of life, which is not of 1 Nolite diligere mundum, ncqtie ea quac in mundo sunt. 2 Si quis diligit mundum non est cliantas Patns in eo. [12] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI the Father, but is of the world." l (Ibid.) Renouncing concupiscence means renounc- ing death. "For the world passeth away and the concupiscence thereof." 2 Wealth is a bar to entrance into the kingdom of heaven. It is impossible for a rich man to enter there. Giving up wealth means winning eternity. In fad: the apostle closes with the words: "But he that doth the will of God abideth forever." 3 JjUT poverty does more than free one from the slavery of the world, it lights one on the road to heaven. It is the foundation of all the other virtues, which are linked together like a wondrous chain, as the very vicar of Christ understood. Has any one questioned the authenticity of the second epistle of St. Peter? Even if the infallible wisdom of the Council of Carthage, by including it in the sacred canon, had not removed the least doubt for me, a devoted son of the Church, its 1 Quoniam omne quod est in mundo, concupiscentia carnis est, et concupiscentia oculorum, et superbia vitae quae non est ex Patre, sed ex mundo est. 2 Et mundus transit et concupiscentia eius.. 3 Qui autem facit voluntatem Dei manet in aeternum. [13] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD certitude would have been manifest to me from that supreme and inspired wis- dom which God grants me the grace to perceive in it. St. Peter says that the stupendous and precious promises by which we can be made "partakers of the divine nature" (divinae consortes naturae) are fulfilled on condition that we flee from the corruption of concupiscence. Then in the purified soul all the great virtues can flourish. Faith first, on this fortitude, and on fortitude, wisdom and knowledge. From wisdom shall come continence and temperance, and from these patience and perseverance, patience against evil and per- severance in good; and from these piety, brotherly love, and charity. B lUT then, why do I seek the authority of the saints when I have the example of Jesus Christ, the only Lord and Master, of Jesus poor, of Jesus who had not where to lay His head ? How could I follow, my only good, blessed Jesus, unless I accept Thy lot and Thy example? Yes, my Jesus, yes, I adore Thy poverty, I want it, I beg it, I must have it, I feel [14] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI that I shall never be happy until I, like St. Francis, can possess it and love it and enjoy it as my beloved spouse. Pov- erty, dear poverty, dear liberty, irresistible force that will heal the world, heal me now! My God, Thou seest that this is my trial to-day and that I am on my way to freedom. How Thou helpest me! I feel Thy smile, Thy love, Thy sweet, imperious, irresistible call. I understand that my act of liberation will be the salvation of many, an eloquent example, the adl that is expected of me. I thought that I should have to conquer many hard and bitter obstacles, not within me but outside of me, and instead Thou makest all things easy. O Lord, Thou dost il- luminate the heart of my mother! Thou givest her the taste and desire for a sacrifice which a short time ago I could not have asked without piercing her soul. HAT a day for me was the day of my Confirmation! It is a never-to-be- forgotten date in the history of my mortal life, not only because it confirmed in me the gifts of the Holy Spirit, but because it A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD has been the center of many events, all of them decisive. How beautiful and how sweet is Thy grace, O Lord! In those moments I behaved as if impelled by a sweet, outside necessity, as if inspired, with ease and submissiveness, happy and certain I was following in the right path. I have always vaguely felt that in order to live well, it was enough to have a blind and childlike trust in Thee; to be simple, pure, and ingenuous of heart, to take Thy strong hand with calm and trustful meek- ness and to let one's self be sweetly guided by Thee. Now I know this to be true, and this I promise I will ever do, O Lord. NOTE. Giosue Borsi was confirmed by Cardinal Maffi, Archbishop of Pisa, April 29, 1915. He began writing these Colloquies a few days later at the climax of his religious fervor. [16] Ill He Indies the World and Finds himself Gjuilty Thursday ', May 6th, 1915 morning, Lord, I did not r rise early enough, just as if I JL had gone back to the lazy, sluggish days which I used to pass in idleness before my blessed and provi- dential confirmation. Yesterday when I went back into the world I foresaw that it would be so. I accepted a frivolous invitation, put on evening clothes, went and chatted politely with four ladies of the fashionable world; while I dined, I talked of literature and politics; I returned home later than I intended, and to my confusion I confess that I did thus through weakness. That is why my will was dull and inactive this morning. For I can no longer deceive myself; the world is a snare at best. Even if we lose nothing else, we at least waste our time. Gossip- A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD ing with strangers is neither rest nor diversion nor pastime; it is waste of energy, however slight; and Thou, O Lord, art very jealous of our energies and wilt ask of us an account of all of them, and wilt number every vain and idle word. In the world we lie from necessity and flatter perforce. There is no soul so spotless, pure, and transparent that the breath of the world will not dim or tarnish it. In dealing with the world we give much of ourselves and receive nothing in return, or, worse still, we receive poison. The world loves only it- self; it asks you to amuse it, to teach it, to arouse its morbid, futile, hypocritical sensibility, and then it does not thank you, but pays you back w r ith envy and malice, or worse, with praise and applause. If you are of a retiring disposition, the praise of the world will seem an insult; if your soul is truly humble and modest, the praise of the world will seem unde- served and unjust. But woe to you if you listen to its praise without a feeling of disgust; \voe to you if you take pleas- ure in it, for it is poison. [18] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI M< .OREOVER, in the world we are deprived of the best and purest of all pleasures, the beneficent and unique joy of loving Thee. My Jesus, from Whom I neither could nor would conceal a thing, Thou that lookest into the secret places, Thou that searchest my heart, Thou knowest and seest how madly I love Thee, how I adore Thee, how the very thought of Thee inebriates me, exalts me, and makes me happy, Jesus, my God, my Father, my Light, my Joy, my Love! Thou knowest that nothing in the world pleases me so well as to behold Thee, to think of Thee, to gaze upon and kiss the sacred wounds that on the cross saved and redeemed me and paid all for me. Well, that same world which killed Thee then, that implacable butcher into whose cruel hands Thou, my Father, gavest Thyself to save my life, that world to-day steals Thee from me and takes me from Thee. I, who by Thy grace, un- worthy and miserable as I am, have an unquenchable thirst for Thee and feel the need of possessing Thee for all eternity, [19] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD carry with me this ineffable secret joy of mine, and in the midst of worldly distrac- tions and ill-spent moments I cannot relish it as I would. Thine eyes, my loving Father, are ever fixed upon me; not for an instant is Thy gaze removed, and Thou thinkest always of me with divine solicitude; Thou never abandonest me, Thou helpest me every moment, Thou followest me everywhere. If I but turn my eyes to Thee, even though my thoughts wander, always, always, I meet Thy ineffable gaze, Thy gaze so full of love, Thy intoxicating gaze, Thy dazzling gaze, fixed ever upon me. Ah! why cannot I do so to Thee with my poor little weak and wavering eyes, so veiled and full of darkness? Why do I not always gaze upon Thee, O Lord? I cannot express this thought better than in the sweet words of the saint who suggested it to me, my seraphic gentle master, St. Francis de Sales. "Consider what God does and what you do; you will see His eyes turned towards you and fixed upon you per- petually with incomparable love. O God, you will say, why do I not always look at [20] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI Thee, as Thou dost always look at me? Why dost Thou think of me so often, my Lord, and why do I so seldom think of Thee? My soul, where are we? Our true home is God and where do we find ourselves?" * DUT the same saint teaches me the truth that nothing can separate me from Thee, if only I wish it. Even in the midst of the world, of its talk and its business, I can always make a safe haven in which to seek Thee. Even last night, had I so wanted, I could have gazed at Thee and smiled at Thee in my heart. Here is the real truth: I complain of the world and I should be complaining of myself. I curse the world and I should curse myself. If I loved Thee as I should, the world would not be a danger. If I did but love 1 Regardez ce que Dieu fait et ce que vous faites: vous verrez ses yeux tournes de votre cote et perpetuelle- ment fixes sur vous par un amour incomparable. O Dieu, ce direz-vous, pourquoi ne vous regarde-je toujours comme toujours vous me regardez? Pourquoi pensez- vous en moi si souvent, mon Seigneur, et pourquoi pense-je si peu souvent en vous? Ou sommes-nous, mon ame? Notre vraie place, c'est Dieu, et ou est-ce que nous nous trouvons? [21] A SOLDIERS CONFIDENCES WITH GOD Thee as I ought, I should find no danger, not merely in the blandishments of the world but even in the flames of a furnace, in the teeth of a famished beast, or in the claws of the demon himself. If I fear the world, if I need to flee from it, it means that I am weak, for if I possess the Lord, no harm can come to me. I write I have discovered no, not discovered, but rather come to feel - this truth more keenly, and I can now ask of my conscience and discover my fault: I accepted the invitation and I took pleasure in it; I need not have stayed so long, but I did; I was frivolous and vain with pleasure; and here I am punished immediately, here I am this morning less punctual in rising and less keen, more slothful and lazy. It is true that the world offered me this subtle poison, but it is also true that I drank it of my own free will. Thus, whether in little things or in great, man is always the forger of his own destiny. We are very unjust, O Lord, for we accuse the world of a sin that is all our own. [22] IV He 'Discourses on the Joy of (Conversing *foith Cfod Friday, May Jth, 1915 WRITING in this diary, my Lord Jesus Christ, gives me great joy. I have never be- fore while writing or speaking felt so free and fluent as now, so confident, so abso- lutely sincere, and I believe that the great joy of this fresh, limpid clarity of mind will grow greater day by day as I gradually become accustomed to it. SOMETIMES I have thought that one cannot stand before Thee, my Lord, unless he be contrite, grave, trembling, timorous, with downcast eyes; but I perceive this is true only in a certain sense and at certain times, especially when we have incurred Thy wrath, fallen into grievous faults, opposed Thy will, deprived ourselves of Thy blessed peace. But more [23] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD often I feel, my sweet Friend and Lord, that we must stand before Thee joyously, glad and confident, head erect, fixing sparkling eyes upon Thee, alert and prompt to guess at once Thy least com- mand, to obey with alacrity and bounding heart. Yes, while the bridegroom is near the guests make merry. So long as they hold their father's hand, little children need not be afraid. We must love Thee, fear Thee, and serve Thee; but our fear must not be sad, our obedience must be that of the son and not of the slave. But above all we must have confidence, confidence and always confidence, and ever remember, with happy enthusiasm and unlimited devotion, that we are in the presence of supreme Intelligence and supreme Love. This is the state of mind in which I try to put myself, when I gird myself to write, because I feel, O Lord, that it is the most favorable, the one that helps me most in talking to Thee and listening to Thee. HUS, while I talk here to Thee, I rejoice to feel that Thou art observing [24] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI me with benevolent interest, bestowing on me watchful and unwearied attention, that nothing escapes Thee; nay, that it is I who am distradled, stupid, embarrassed, so that a good part of what I myself am saying escapes me. I feel that Thou makest up for my misery. Thou dost anticipate me, divining what I would say before I can express it, Thou even knowest it beforehand and better than I; Thou seest my intentions and Thou makest complete what I but hint at so fleetingly and badly. Thou art the best of Listeners, Thou art the sole Listener, the only Listener before Whom one loves to speak, the only calm, good, just, far-seeing, kind Witness, before Whom it is a pleasure to ac% the only Judge Who cannot misunder- stand. And what makes me feel free and puts me at my ease is the certainty that Thou canst never misunderstand me, that Thou seest my profound sincerity. Speaking does me more good than Thee; rather is it useful to me alone, for in speaking I am seeking only to understand and express myself. There art Thou before me, silent and smiling, watching [25] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD and judging my efforts, and Thy mere presence makes me a thousand times more eager and willing; it sharpens my faculties a hundredfold. And little by little, O my Lord, I feel the joy of opening my heart to Thee, of laying bare my soul before Thee. What Socrates did with the youth Theaetetus, Thou doest with me, but far more generously, far more nobly, in that realm of the Spirit the doors of which Thou hast flung open by Thy bloody sacrifice. O Jesus our Liberator, Thou revealest my faculties to me, Thou mak- est me to discover Thy grandest truths wrapped up within me, and Thou givest me the additional pleasure of finding them by myself, by my own effort, so that they may be truly, vitally, deservedly mine. And so it is in prayer, Thou knowest better than I what is good for me, what most I need: "For your Father knoweth what is needful for you; before you ask Him." 1 (Matt, vi, 8.) Yet Thou desirest me to pray, that I may not forget Thee and that I myself may be enlightened. 1 Scit cnim pater vester quid opus sit vobis antequam petatis eum. [26] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI HEN I talk with my fellow men I cannot rid myself of a feeling of embarrass- ment, trouble, impatience, and even bitter- ness, because I realize that I never succeed in making myself understood ever so little, and this for three reasons: first, my own weakness; second, the weakness that is in them; and lastly, the weakness that is inherent in the medium I am using. Speech for me is a poor weapon wielded by an inexpert hand. What I say is obscure in me, to begin with; it becomes more obscure through the acl: of putting it into words; and finally my listener misunderstands it. But when I talk to Thee, Lord, this third difficulty does not exist, and Thou remediest the other two with Thy divine grace. But then, my poor fellow men are not merely poor in intelligence, but that poor intelligence is perverted, prejudiced, and distrustful. We human beings do not listen to one another with love or with desire to under- stand: we oppose each other with deaf and hostile resistance; each of us shuts himself up as in a fortress and lowers all [27] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD the portcullises, hoists all the drawbridges, and stations an archer at every loophole of his soul. Instead of which, our souls should be hospitable and open; we should run to meet one another with confidence; we should share and hold in common all our treasures of truth, each contributing the little which he possesses, that we may enjoy the sublime advantage of perfect union. Instead, here we are, strangers to each other, each with his own little treasure to defend with teeth and claws. Thus, when I speak to a fellow man, he doe's not want to understand half of what I say. He begins by doubting my sin- cerity, he tries to discover some ulterior motive, or else he distorts my intentions and scoffs at me. If I persuade him, he does not thank me; on the contrary, he is sorry to have been vanquished and will not admit the facl for fear of humiliat- ing himself. He does not want to seem to surrender too easily; he wishes to show how jealous he is of his independence, because he does not want his conscience to be violated and enslaved. But when I talk with Thee, Jesus with Thee, [28] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI the benign and loving, the just and con- soling! -- Thou dost not scorn me, Thou dost not mistrust me, Thou dost not argue with me for the sake of conquering me, overthrowing me and humiliating me, for Thou castest down and humblest only the proud. The contest between Thee and me, O Thou ineffable Love, is a battle of love, wherein I am the winner as soon as I lay down my arms; wherein I can sing a song of triumph at the instant I sur- render. Dear, dear Jesus, my celestial Treasure, how happy I am to talk with Thee! My faithful Friend, in Thy bosom I may well take refuge and there laugh and weep. In Thee, I am free, 'wholly free. In Thee, my Lord, I am happy. HAT is why my joy in writing in this diary of mine is so great. Not only do I rejoice in my absolute sincerity, but I feel that it is necessary in addressing Thee. I know very well that I can con- ceal nothing from Thee. Before men, whom I know that I can deceive, I may happen to lie a little and make myself ap- pear different from what I really am, but [29] A SOLDIERS CONFIDENCES WITH GOD before Thee, this is impossible. Before Thee, I feel that I am naked and alone, as I shall be on the day of wrath, there in sight of the entire universe, helpless, without excuses, in that vast solitude which shall be the glory of the just and the confusion of the wicked. Therefore what can it avail me to lie? Not a single deliberate falsehood shall fall on these pages. Errors, foolishness, misstatements, worthless trash, there may be a plenty, because I am only human; but a lie, never! for one does not lie \vhen there is no hope of being believed; one does not lie when he knows that he will be instantly confounded. Sometimes, to make men believe one, even without actually lying, one tries to attenuate, to color, or to exaggerate a little; we adapt ourselves, or think that we do, to the mental im- perfections of our fellow men. But here, Lord, with Thee, any artifice of rhetoric is utterly useless. Little by little I shall learn to be sincere and explicit, to be simple and pure. This exercise will be a wonderful discipline for me. At present 1 know that I am only stammering, for [30] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI I am still handicapped by my old mental habits; but I feel sure I shall improve in time. At least I desire it, my Lord, and I sincerely hope it, if Thou wilt vouchsafe to assist me with Thy divine grace, without which I can do nothing. V He <3tfeditates on Qommunion and ^Denial Sins Saturday, May 8th, 1915 OLORD, this morning I went with my mother to Communion at the Chapel of the Calasanziane Sisters. The last time I received Thee was on the 29th of last month in the same chapel, on the eve of that happy, blessed, auspicious day of my confirmation. Since then, searching my conscience thoroughly, I seem to find nothing to reproach myself with but some trifling venial sins. It may be that I have not done well in neglecting to get absolution again before receiving the Divine Food, Thy Holy Body. I acknowledge that I did not reflect sufficiently on my unworthiness and Thy goodness, at the moment when Thou didst generously offer me the prodigious gift of Thy whole Being. I [32] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI acknowledge also that I do not receive the sacrament of the Eucharist with the frequency that I ought and that is indis- pensable to me in my wretched weakness; but I hope that henceforth not merely the ardent desire, but also the good disposition, to receive Thee will increase in me more and more. Thou knowest, O Lord, how long and slow and gradual was my return to Thy grace, but I feel strongly that Thy divine, fatherly, solicitous, un- tiring, loving help has not failed me even for an instant. Thou hast kept royally all Thy promises, nay Thou hast been superabundant in Thy gifts, certainly far more than I can see and even more than I could expecl: or imagine. I only feel that I have been weak, and that on my part I have not kept even the hundredth part of what so often I promised Thee. But I hope more and more in Thy grace. I hope that the enemies I have now conquered, especially impurity and sloth, may never again prevail over me. I SEE clearly many other little noxious weeds which I now must root up, one by [33] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD one, with my own hands. Ever higher and higher, Lord, ever lead me and bear me up, my Blessed Father. I am in 1 hy hands; make me to rise yet higher. Impose increasingly difficult trials upon me, if Thou seest that I am sufficiently strong and well enough inclined. Thou knowest well that with Thy help I am affrighted at nothing. Thou knowest, too, that without Thy help all would be dead for me. And now I firmly purpose to overcome the many other little evil inclinations which I detect in me, such as vanity, feeble resistance to persuasion, flattery, a certain weakness of will, some freedom and levity in speech, the begin- ning of pleasure in carnal thoughts, a little severity and bitterness against the woes and the suffering and the baseness and the wretchedness of the world, with an evident tendency to visit upon the sinner the resentment, the aversion, and the anger which are due only to the sin. Moreover I purpose to practice with ever greater precision the precepts of the Church, which are so beautiful and so wise, and above all to cultivate a keener, warmer, [34] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI deeper love for the stupendous double sacrament of Penance and Holy Com- munion. The reading of the Gospel, which I have begun daily since I began to write this diary, greatly helps my intellect and heart. A: .ND now, having made these resolu- tions (to confirm myself in which I recall to my own confusion how often I have disregarded them), I thank Thee, O Lord, unworthy of Thy supreme goodness as I am, I thank Thee for the beneficent help that Thou hast instituted for our salvation, and that Thou hast permitted me this morning to partake of the superabundant favors that spring from Thy sacrifice. I thank Thee for having granted me the grace to receive with faith, hope, and charity Him in Whom and by \\hom we believe, hope, and love. I beseech Thee, Lord, by the merits of the most salutary and solemn of all Thy sacraments that I may learn to love Thee evermore, to purify myself of my imperfections, to console myself in my afflictions, to sustain myself in mv weaknesses. I invoke the [35] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD intercession of the great Mother of God, Mary most Holy and Blessed, whom I love, in whom I trust, whom I implore, who is the sweet objecl: of the best desires of this poor filial heart of mine. [36 VI He 'Discourses upon Free 1 Sunday, May qtb, 1915 AHOSE poor, blind men, Lord, who seek liberty have found slavery instead. To avoid serv- ing justice they have become the servants of their passions. Proclaiming that they have set themselves free from Thy sweet yoke, they are obliged at last to proclaim that they are slaves and senseless brutes. To be able to assert that they are not responsible for the evil they do, they have to admit that they are incapable of doing any sort of good. In their wicked- ness they are so loath to respond to Thy calls and to obey Thy commandments, that at last they whimper and say: "Why dost Thou call us, O Lord? Seest Thou not that we cannot obey Thee, because we are shackled here? Is it our fault that we have these chains? We did not put [37] 145568 A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD them on ourselves, we have been fet- tered with them since our birth, and they have been riveted by the work of men, of the world, of society. We are not free, O Lord. Why dost Thou impose Thy commandments on us? Why dost Thou entice us with rewards? Why dost Thou threaten us with punishments?" Wretches! You have shackled yourselves so as not to obey, so as to excuse your- selves from reasonable service. And this is what you call liberty! O LORD, I thank Thee that Thou hast not left me among those fools, those vol- untary slaves, who renounce the eternal liberty of the spirit for the brief and mock- ing freedom to evil. But let us see if, in arguing against them, I shall not succeed in discerning better that sublime truth, the Communion of Saints, which is the expression of Catholicism, of universal fraternity, of the wonderful unity and coherence of matter, intellect, and spirit in Thee, Lord and Creator, Triune Light in a single star. [38] L COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI ET us begin; help me, Lord. VV HEN men in the choice between good and evil deliberately choose evil, they can scarcely ever bring them- selves to admit that the choice was of their own free will; after trying in vain to convince themselves that it is not wicked, they disown the sin. But, before doing the evil thing, they generally say, frankly and shamelessly: "Is it my fault?" or, "I was born so!" ''This is my temperament!" And so forth. The great thought, the great con- cern, the great anxiety of men is to restrict, as much as possible, the limits of their own responsibility. And instead they accuse heredity, disease, education, the sins of society. Finally they arrive at philosophic determinism, saying a man is not free or responsible in anything; he is less than an animal, less than a plant; he is passive matter, not autonomous, without a shadow of free will. A thousand causes may be at work within him: the climate, the seasons, temperature, diseases, [39] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD deformities, physical defects, congenital maladies, external suggestions, education, circumstances, anything, a grain of sand, a draught of liquor, certain foods, the most negligible, fortuitous, and ridicu- lous causes. One single cause can never influence him, and this is his free will. Such is the absurd error upon which many philosophers found their ethics. Now, I am far from saying that each individual lives free and apart from the rest of the world, isolated and independent, like a capricious, uncontrollable despot. I say rather that a man is the effect: of the past and the cause of the future, bound to all the human race and to all the rest of the universe in the three worlds of matter, intellect, and spirit. I say that each man has received something before he began to live and that his liberty consists in his very effort to increase the treasure in- trusted to him. One man has received five talents, another two, another only one; "to each according to his worth." 1 The master then left the servants free for a long time; and "then after a long time 1 Unicuique secundum propnam virtutem. [40] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI came the lord of these servants." l I say, therefore, that each individual comes into the world with certain gifts, with certain graces, with certain powers and under certain conditions. As Gratry well says: ''There is a primitive, impersonal educa- tion which is of God, nature, and society. But God, Who gives us our beginning by Himself or by His creation, wishes that we perfect ourselves by reflection and liberty; this is personal education." Ti HUS is man's liberty vindicated, and thus the limits of his responsibility are clearly defined. Man will not be punished because in the beginning he has only one talent, but he will be punished because "going away he dug in the earth and hid his lord's money." 2 B >UT that is not enough, and this is the point at which I wanted to arrive. Is no one responsible for the evil deeds committed by the man who "is not 1 Post multum vero tempons venit dominus servorum illorum. 2 Abiens fodit in terrain et abscondit pecuniam dommi sui. [41] A SOLDIERS CONFIDENCES WITH GOD responsible"? Is not society made up of men? Is not education imparted by men? Is not example given by men? And shall they not then answer for the evil deeds committed by others through their fault? The man who contracts moral corruption shall answer not only for the sin of contracting it, but also for the sin of transmitting it to his son. There is cohesion in evil as well as in good. This book resting on the table makes its weight felt, little as it is. The desk, in its turn, presses on the floor, and compels it to react to the same extent, in order that the balance be maintained. The floor is connected with the house, the latter is founded in the ground. The strata of the ground form the skeleton of the earth, and the earth is balanced in space. It is only a grain of sand floating in the im- mensity of ether, but, tiny as it is, its mass plays its part in the stellar equi- librium. Thus, in a way that only 1 hy mind, O Lord, can perceive and measure, the slightest movement of my little pen running across this paper is connected with the motions of the spheres and con- [42] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI tributes to and is a part thereof. Thus all matter is united. T. HE same takes place in the world of intellect. I get all my education of culture and ideas from the outside, by endless paths, directly and indirectly, from an incalculable number of human minds, among which some are vast and sublime, some fatuous and very humble. There is not a single idea, however small and negligible, no matter how modest its origin, that has not or that may not have its value. I have received them all; the greater number I have lost, forgotten, or discarded, but there is not one that has not left a trace or a furrow, unnoticed, perhaps, but no less real, which Thou, O Lord, with Thy ineffable, all-seeing eye canst easily perceive. Many other ideas, of whose real existence I myself am ignorant, have remained in my subcon- sciousness as in a great storehouse, and perhaps some day some of them will sud- denly blossom forth under some special stimulus, perhaps the effect of disease, who knows? The mysteries of the mind [43] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD are so many! Many others I still possess with more or less distinctness; they are all within me; I can find them whenever I wish; and in the meantime I have selected them, combined, transformed, organized, elaborated them, and made them mine; and then I spread them broadcast in a thousand ways, writing, talking, printing, arguing with one or declaiming to an audience of a thousand, writing a letter that my friend will tear up, or publishing my words in a newspaper that will fall under the eyes of a hundred thousand persons I have never known. Thus ideas live and have their most complex adventures in the world of in- telled:, a world immeasurably superior to the material world, a world united and compact also, in its vast, plenteous and most varied complexity. .S in the material and intellectual worlds, so it is in the infinitely greater moral world. The Lord can trace the origin of and responsibility for an evil deed, whether great or small, through the intricate maze of the infinite relations [44] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI between human souls. "It is true that many men," says Gratry again, "lack the benefit of primitive education. They are born without moral patrimony, and per- haps as food for their journey through this difficult life have received only per- verted examples and maxims. But reason and the Gospel say that nothing will be asked of any one but that which has been given to him." Exactly, but peradventure the Lord will not know how to trace the man who has given the perverted example and bad maxim? Yes, He will, and He has promised it, for after having menaced with one of His most terrible anathemas those who scandalize any of the little ones who believe in Him, He adds: "Woe to the world because of scandals. For it needs be that scandals come, but woe to that man by whom they come!" (Matt, xviii, 7.) l I N conclusion, then: not only is free will in every man, but its effects extend 1 Vae mundo a scanclalis. Necesse est enim ut veniant scandala: verumtamen vae homini illi per quern scandalum venit. [45] A SOLDIERS CONFIDENCES WITH GOD all around it and endure after it is gone, in a thousand ways. Each individual must answer not only for his own evil deeds, but also for those that he causes other men to commit. Man is the effect of an infinite number of causes and is, in his turn, one of the causes of infinite effects. With the evil and the good that he does, he cooperates in the whole upward movement of the entire human race. For the human race also is born, lives, and will die, free to choose its destiny; and the free will of the race is to be found in this communion between the individuals of which it is composed, in these indis- soluble bonds which bind them all to- gether throughout the ages. Therefore, not only is man himself free, but he participates, so far as he may, in the liberty of all mankind, more or less, according to the faculties with which God has endowed him and the position in which God has placed him among his fellow men. Such is the image of communion among militant men. Not one is isolated. All are united in good and in evil. And this is why they must love one another, help one [46] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI another, and sustain one another; this is why the commandment to love one another is the second, like unto the first, of loving God above all. There is no evil deed that will not have to be atoned for, there is no good deed that is done in vain. The buried talent was really not lost. The master had his useless servant cast into the darkness, but the talent was given to him who had ten, that nothing might be lost. And unity among men is so precious that the Lord intended to give us a warning of its immense power when He said: "Again I say to you that if two of you on earth shall agree in asking anything, it shall be granted by my Father who is in heaven." l And I believe that my Dante had in mind the communion of saints in the treasure of the Kingdom, when he depicted the blessed of the empyrean rose as d'altrui lume fregiati e del suo riso. 1 HEREFORE, O most wise Lord, I thank Thee for making me free, the 1 Iterum dico vobis quia, si duo ex vobis consenserint super terrain de omni re quamcumque petierint, fiet illis a Pater meo qui in coelis est. [47] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD arbiter and forger of my destiny, and also a sharer in the liberty of all my brethren, to whose destiny I, too, by Thy grace, can, willingly and lovingly, contribute. And I beseech Thee, beloved Lord, that Thou wilt deem me worthy of participating forever in the vast treasures of the com- munion of saints, as a devoted, affectionate, obedient, and loving son of Thy Bride, the Church. [48] I VII He ^Determines to ^Be a and not a Tal\er Monday, May loth, 1915 further I advance in the light of Thy eternal truth, O Lord, the more I become con- vinced of what I have always vaguely guessed and felt, that for every man, as well as for every people, indeed for the entire human race, salvation consists more in doing than in believing. There is no doubt that faith is that "dear joy whereon every virtue is based," but what is faith in which no virtue blossoms? Faith is, of course, a necessary seed, but how often the birds of the air devour it, how often it falls upon stony ground, how often among thorns! Faith is the good tree, but what will happen if it does not bring forth good fruit? [49] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD F AITH avails nothing when we preach it without living it, and listen to it without practicing it. Not only is it useless, but it will be our condemnation on the day of the Lord, for nothing will excuse us when we shall have to confess that we have known Him without having loved Him. Jesus! My Jesus! I have found Thee and I have known Thee, and I see Thy beauty and I perceive that in Thee alone is my salvation. Grant, I beseech Thee, that so great a gift be not lost in vain, nor given to me for my condemnation. Thou seest well how weak and frail I am, how full of every misery and foulness. Abandon me not, for without Thee, Jesus, 1 am lost. Therefore make me to love Thee, to love Thee ever more; make me to desire Thy yoke, to long only for Thy cross; grant that I may practice willingly all that Thou teachest me for the love Thou bearest me. I SAY, then, that action is the only way of salvation, and that by action the world will be saved. Should I speak to [50] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI men, if the Lord shall deem me worthy to be a preacher of His word, then I shall say one only thing, and this comprises all wisdom: Return to the Sacraments, return to the Sacraments! I shall never tire of repeating it, or of demonstrating it and above all of doing it myself first. Example and deeds, virtues that are practical, usual, precise, and material action, ac- tion, that is all! X HE doctrine of the Church is not a marble edifice to be gazed at in wonder; it is a living body of which we are a part and in which we live. It is not a palace, outside of which we stand to admire the facade; it is a home which we enter to live in, there to find our refuge, our bed, and our board; it is the Lord's house. At the convent of Monte alle Croci, where I spent yesterday, my friend Father Eletto made me read in the office the words of St. James: "Be ye therefore doers of the word and not merely hearers, deceiving yourselves. For he who is a hearer of the word and not a doer is like unto one who looketh at his face in a A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD glass; for he looketh at himself, then he goeth away and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was. But he who will seek deeply in the perfect law of liberty and persevere therein, becoming not merely a forgetful hearer but a doer of works, he shall be blessed in his deeds. For if any man think himself to be religious and bndleth not his tongue but seduceth his heart, that man's religion is vain." x Y ES, Father, salvation is in work. Make me, therefore, I implore Thee through the infinite merits of the Passion of Thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord, make me a doer of works and not a forgetful hearer, because for such a man religion is vain. This epistle of the great father of the Church of Jerusalem is in its entirety 1 Estote autem factores verbi; et non auditores tantum, fallentes vosmetipsos. Quia si quis auditor est verbi, et non factor, hie comparabitur viro consicleranti vultum nativitatis suae in speculo: consideravit enim se, abiit, et statim obhtus est qualis fuerit. Qui autem perspexent in legem perfechun libertatis, et permansent in ea, non auditor obliviosus fadus, sed factor operis, hie beams in facto suo non erit. Si qui sautem putet se religiosum esse, non refrenans linguam suam, sed seducens cor suum, huius vana est religio (Epistle of St. James, i, 22-26). COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI a code of practical life. "Faith without works is dead." l OW works are renunciation and charity above all. Men are fighting and killing each other to-day for domination, and I believe they will never attain their obje<5t. This war will give birth to the moral character of the nations, for it will demonstrate that violence and fraud do not profit nations any more than they profit men. The example of Germany will be the basis of this bloody experience. Italy, perhaps, if the Lord shall deign to protect her in this trial, as I am earnestly praying Him to do, will be the asserter of the principle of nationality, and then of equilibrium, and then of Christian justice and Christian love. To have charity one must have self-denial. I shall work by denying myself and helping others; I feel that I am in the right and that my work will be fruitful. But as long as I talk, all will be useless. No one will be persuaded. Once I act, no eloquence in the world can contradict the silent 1 Fides sine operibus mortua est. [53] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD eloquence of my deeds. There is no elo- quence that does not fall before deeds. Men need example and not words, for they are deeply conscious that without example religion is vain, as the tree with- out fruit is vain, and fit only to be cast into the fire. [S4J VIII He, lik^e 8lias for 'Death Tuesday, May nth, 1915 OLORD, I want to die, and I am not sure that I am doing well in wishing it so much. Death fasci- nates me, life repels me. I feel I am a "poor banished child of Eve, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears," as I say every day to the Mother of Mercy. The narrowness of life oppresses me; my weakness displeases me; the petty every- day struggle wears me out. I should like to be done with it; I should like to give up the trial; I should like to be called at once to my judgment. If I look on death, I think with real relief that it is advancing towards me every minute with even step. To-day I shall have to wait for it one day less than yesterday; but when, when will it reach [55] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD me? If it might be to-morrow! How will it come? Will it be painful and excruciating? Will it be sudden, swift as lightning, or long, slow, sweet, and calm? Will it leave me time to call upon Thee, my God? Thou art silent, and I know it is well that Thou shouldst be; it is well for me and for my salvation, for I am too weak, and if I were certain of the day and hour I should be less attentive, less watchful, less cautious; such security would put vain hopes into my mind and deliver me into the hands of the enemy. But Thy terrible silence oppresses me, O Lord. I fear Thee, I tremble and I am afraid of myself. Oh, that it might come at once, now, at this instant, and abruptly stop my hand at this very word! I HAVE interrupted my writing, concen- trated my mind on Thee, Lord, and I have said twice in utter abandonment: Take me! Take me! And now I repeat it: Here I am; take me, take me now at this moment when I love Thee, when I fear Thee, when I wait for Thee. Thou seest well that I cast not a glance at what [56] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI I leave behind, that I have detached myself from everything. I desire Thee alone, O Lord, and for Thee I would pass through any ordeal. Send me a death of agony, and torment, an atrocious, vile, opprobrious, infamous death, like Thine own. Oh, that would be too much joy for me, and I am sure I shall never be worthy of it! Let me die like St. John Chrysostom; or at least like St. Cyprian. But no, their death was a majestic triumph. The former returned from the Caucasus, thirty years after his death, and on the Bosphorus, illuminated by thousands of flames, between the shores of two conti- nents, a young imperial and saintly couple welcomed his ship decorated with silken draperies and resplendent with lights like an altar, amid the tears and the mourning of an endless multitude of the faithful. The latter, going up to his martyrdom, heard behind him an entire people crying that they wanted to die with him. No, no, Lord, give me a painful, obscure death; make me die now, insignificant and unknown as I am; but let it be very soon, nay at once. [57] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD I DO not know if I am deceiving myself or presuming too much, my heart is so weak and cowardly and so easily deceived and puffed up with vanity, - but it seems to me that I look upon the event of my death with absolute lack of fear. But perhaps, or rather without any doubt, I am speaking now with boasting and bravado, and if the day of real trial were to come I should show myself a pusillanimous coward. SOMETIMES I rebuke myself for wish- ing to die, and suspect that I am making love for Thee a mask for my cowardice and discouragement. If Thou keepest me alive, this is among Thy designs, and I ought to serve Thee living without the intractable impatience of a restless school- boy, and accept without a murmur even the longest, saddest, and most obscure life to ripen myself gradually with resigned and humble patience in the warm rays of Thy love. Yes, yes, let us suffer and fight with joy, all our lives, as Thou hast willed that peace should not be here, for [58] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI Jesus came not to bring peace but a sword. Blaise Pascal, in one of his letters, well says: "One must make up his mind to suffer this war all his life, for there is no peace here. Jesus Christ came not to bring peace but a sword. But, neverthe- less, it must be confessed that, as the Scripture says, the wisdom of men is only foolishness before God, so one may say that this war, which seems so hard to men, is a peace in the sight of God; for this is the peace that Jesus Christ brought. However, it will not be perfect until the body shall be destroyed; and that is what makes one long for death, yet suf- fer life gladly for the love of Him who suf- fered both life and death for us, and who can give us more good things than we can ever ask or imagine, in the words of St. Paul." 1 1 II faut done se resoudre a souffrir cette guerre toute sa vie: car il n'y a point ici de paix. Jesus-Christ est venu apporter le couteau, et non pas la paix. Mais neanmoms il faut avouer que, comme 1'Ecriture dit que la sagesse des homines n'est que fohe devant Dieu, aussi on pent dire que cette guerre qui parait dure aux hommes, est une paix devant Dieu: car c'est cette paix que Jesus- Christ a aussi apportee. Elle ne sera neanmoins parfaite ([lie quand le corps sera detruit; et c'est ce qui fait sou- [ 59 ] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD when I expressed this desire for death to Cardinal Maffi, a few days ago, telling him that I had a scruple about it, he enlightened and keen as he is zealous and pious answered that death should neither be feared nor desired, but should be left to the Lord, almost exactly what my good spiritual father had told me before. yet I still persist in loving and longing for death as a liberation and a reward. Was it not St. Ambrose, that giant of the Church, who used those words that might have resounded on the lips of Elias? "O God, my Father, stretch out Thy arms to receive Thy poor servant who calls upon Thee. Ah! although faith has been spread far and wide, charity grows cold and iniquity still abounds upon the earth! O take me up with Thee where there are no such haiter la mort, en souffrant nGanmoins de bon cceur la vie pour 1'amour de celui qui a souffert pour nous c-t la vie et la mort, et qui pent nous dormer plus de biens que nous n'en pouvons ni demander m imagmer, comme dit Saint Paul. [60] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI miseries, no such changes, no such dark- ness, but Thou alone art the light of Thy sons! It is hard to wait so long for the day when this our death shall be swallowed up in Thy life! It is hard to drag so long this body already wrapped in the shadows of dissolution! Arise, O Lord! Sleepest Thou? How long wilt Thou repel me?" L ND are not these the exhilarating words of St. Gregory the Great, written in the anguish of divine expectation? "What are the joyful or sad events of this world in comparison with the life that awaits us above? This earthly life, with its constant ebb and flow and dis- appearance of persons and things about us might well be defined as a continuous death. There is no true life but in heaven, where the spirit in company with the angels is immersed in infinite light and becomes inebriated with the possession of incorruptible, eternal happiness. O, how the heart is fired with this thought and longs for the blessed goal! Make haste and let me hear Thy call, O Lord, Thy servant turns his ear to Thee and waits." [61] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD T. HIS is indeed the truth, O Lord: I am not invoking death, but life, for this life is death, and the moment of bodily death is only the painful passage that leads to life. I desire death because I must pass through it in order to come to Thee, O Lord. I desire death that I may possess my good; and Thou art my good, O Lord, my love, my life, sweet Jesus, Jesus, my love. I desire death that I may truly and fully be a "fellow citizen with the saints, and a domestic of God." 1 What shall be the joy eternal, if the mere thought of it in this little, beclouded, dim mind of a pygmy groping in the dark, in- capable of conceiving it, or of imagining even "a single spark of Thy glory," is enough to make me leap and bound, to set my heart throbbing, to whirl me away in a torrent of bliss and rejoicing? What shall the reality be, if the mere expectation is enough to make me happy! Oh, the goodness of the Lord! what shall life eternal be, when I shall "be able to comprehend, with all the saints, what is 1 Cms sanctorum, domesticus Dei. (Eph. n, 19.) [62] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI the breadth, and length, and height, and depth; to know also the charity of Christ, which surpasseth all knowledge, that I may be filled unto all the fullness of God"! 1 My God, I read the burning words of the Apocalypse and should I not be consumed with impatience and yearning? Should I not feel my soul drawn by an all-consuming desire to see the Holy City, the New Jerusalem coming down from heaven, from God "prepared as a bride adorned for her husband ?" And should I not thirst for the water of the river of life, "clear as crystal proceed- ing from the throne of God and of the Lamb?" 3 moreover I desire to die because I see that the wicked wish to live and are attached to life, like oysters to the rocks; they are greedy and feverish, full of 1 Cum omnibus sanctis, quae sit latitude et longitude, et sublimitas ct profundum: scire etiam supereminentem scientiae charitatem Christi, ut impleamini in omnem pleni- tudinem Dei? (Ibid., iii, 18-19.) 2 Paratam sicut sponsam ornatam viro suo. (Apo. \xi, 2.) 3 Splendidum tamquam cristallum, procedentem de sede Dei et Agni. (Ibid, xxii, i.) [6 3 ] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD anxiety and terror. They are too ridicu- lous and contemptible for me to wish to resemble them. To them life is an abode, and they refuse to listen to any one that says it is precarious, ephemeral, fragile, fleeting as a breath, futile as that of a fly; nay, they are ready to curse him who tells them these things, and they close their ears wildly that they may not hear. But for me life is only a voyage and, what is more, a perilous voyage. What desire more natural than to long to see the end of it at once? Why should I not stand on the prow, scanning the horizon and straining my eyes to see if the harbor be not getting nearer? The longer the voyage, the greater the danger of ship- wreck and the more numerous will be the storms. It is true that the greater the trials we overcome, the greater is the reward that God has in store for us. It may be that He loves me so much that He wishes me to be more glorious in His eyes. I would not be so ungrateful as to accept with bad grace the battles to which He invites me; but I am afraid for myself, I know my weakness and mv unworthi- [64] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI ness, I feel that I can do nothing on earth, and if occasionally the mirage of a vast earthly undertaking smiles before me and I seem to be called to perform many enterprises, I tremble lest this thought be suggested to me by the evil one for my perdition; I am afraid it is a diabolical, proud thought. HEN I should like to die, especially to mortify my ambition rather than through disgust for the world and desire for peace. I should like to die because, rather than become a presumptuous empty braggart, a deluded man obstinately at- tempting enterprises beyond his powers, I would prefer a thousand times to be one of those unknown servants, of whom Thou didst speak to Ehas, when Thou didst say to him: "And I will leave me seven thousand men in Israel whose knees have not been bent before Baal and every mouth that hath not worshiped him kiss- ing the hands." x I would rather be one 1 Et derelmquam mihi in Israel septem millia virorum, quorum genua non stint incurvata ante Baal, et omne os quod non adoravit eum osculans manum. (3 Kings xix, 19.) [6 5 ] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD of Thy least adorers, unknown to the world and even to the prophets. B UT while seeking these words in the third book of Kings I read the whole nineteenth chapter, and I am now asking myself with painful anxiety whether it is a warning or a temptation for me, whether it is Thy message, O Lord, or a suggestion from the devil; for Elias also was anxious for death: "He went forward one day's journey into the desert. And when he was there and sat under a juniper tree, he requested for his soul that he might die and said: It is enough for me, O Lord; take away my soul, for I am no better than my fathers." 1 And later he gave the reason twice: "With zeal have I been zealous for the Lord God of hosts, for the children of Israel have forsaken Thy covenant; they have thrown down Thy altars, they have slain Thy prophets with the sword, and I alone 1 Perrexit in desertum, viam unius diei. Cumque venisset, et sederet subter unam uiniperun, petivit animae suae ut moreretur, et ait: Sufficit mihi, Domine; tolle animam meam, neque enim mehor sum quam patres mei. (Ibid., 4.) [66] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI am left, and they seek my life to take it away." 1 the Lord told him he still had seven thousand unknown servants and commanded him to do what was necessary. And the angel of God had already said to him: "Arise, eat, for thou hast yet a great way to go." can I think, O Lord? I shall say: Thy will, not mine, be done. I shall say that if Thou wilt I am ready to walk forty days and forty nights, provided Thy grace will help me. But even if I have only one step to take, I need Thy grace. To get it I will arise and eat and drink; and I say that I shall not eat any food but Thee, the holy food of the flesh and blood of Blessed Jesus, the living bread from heaven, that I may be able "to walk in the strength of that food." 3 1 Zelo zelatus sum pro Domino Deo exercituum, quia derelinquerunt pactum tuum tilii Israel, altaria tua de- struxerunt, prophetas tuos occiderunt gladio, derelichis sum ego solus, et quaerunt animam meam ut auferant earn. (Ibid., 10 and 14.) 2 Surge, comede; grandis enim tihi restat via. (Ibid.,j.) 3 Ambulare in fortitudine cibi illius. (Ibid., 8.) [6 7 ] IX He localizes the desolation of the Heart from *ti>hicb Gjod Has Withdrawn Wednesday, May I2th, 1915 OMY LORD, how good Thou art! What a sweet sadness it is for me to feel mute and power- less to express myself when I would like to praise Thy infinite goodness! And just to think that all eternity will not suffice to praise Thee and adore Thee as I desire! Thou art all joy and tenderness! Thou art all kindness and indulgence! HEN I woke up this morning my mind was cold and stagnant; I had a sense of desolation, and this for several reasons. Last night I wandered idly from cafe to restaurant in the company of some loose young fellows, and I got home late and tired; this morning I woke up in a bad humor and stupid and looked back [68] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI with regret at my happy hours at home, with the diligent, eager mornings, the short, peaceful evenings of the past few days. I was amazed at the thought that to-night I must go to Padua, called there unexpectedly, and that to-day is going to be full of petty cares, annoyances, and busi- ness. Foreseeing all this, I had made up my mind to rise even earlier than usual, but the weak idling of last evening pre- vented me from doing it. Cross and dis- contented, I was inclined to be impatient and thought I would gain a couple of hours by omitting the reading of the Gospel and the writing of these pages, especially as I felt I had nothing to say to Thee, O Lord, and did not care to make the effort to search. I had nothing to say to Thee! I could find nothing in myself! I did not find Thee, I did not love Thee! Thou wert distant and strange to me, O Lord! .OW sad and humiliating is this aridity of soul! It is true that my sweet St. Francis de Sales has put me on my guard, warning me not to be discouraged by it; but still, how abandoned we do feel when [69] A SOLDIERS CONFIDENCES WITH GOD Thy light vanishes from our heart! I might express this state of mind in the words of the Psalmist, but no, I want to speak to Thee alone, O Lord, with my own poor words. When Thou disappear- est from our heart, Thy disappearance is terrible, because it leaves nothing behind it, not even a trace or a shadow. Thou art away, distant, absent; it seems almost as if Thou dost not exist any longer. The sun hides himself behind the clouds, but his light penetrates through their veils, no matter how dense, and it is always light, however cold, wan, and dim it be. The sun sinks below the horizon, but his light remains for a long time; he heralds his return long before he reappears; he reminds us of himself with his reflection from the moon; he leaves a little of his warmth on earth; and even in the midst of a stormy moonless night, when there are not even stars to remind us of him, the sun is in our memory; we are certain he will return. But Thou, O Lord, when Thou dost vanish, it is as if Thou wert no more. An uneasiness, full of doubt, takes possession of. us be- COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI cause every support fails. The thousand infallible certitudes of a well-rooted faith, founded upon a thousand irrefutable proofs, that bold and invincible constancy which at times would make us run smiling to meet any martyrdom with the same confidence with which we put our foot to the ground, knowing that it is perfectly solid and that it is impossible for it not to support us, all these disappear with Thee. When the proofs that reason gives us are deprived of that throb of love which makes them alive, they seem cold and dead, like the subtle arguments of a sophist, and no different from any other human arguments that are indifferent or even contrary to faith, doctrines that are neither more nor less persuasive than many others. This reminds me of that thought of Pascal: "As Jesus Christ dwelt unknown among men, so His truth dwells among ordinary opinions, without any outward differences; so also the Eucharist dwells among ordinary bread." l 1 Comme Jesus-Christ est demeure inconnu parmi les homines, amsi sa vente demeure parmi les opinions com- munes, sans difference a 1'exterieur; ainsi 1'Eucharistie parmi le pain commun. [71] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD JL HE reason is that to love Thee is the first duty, that which includes all others, that on which all others are based, that from which all others are derived. If I do not love Thee, all is lost, all has been said and thought in vain. therefore my mind w r as barren this morning, and now I almost bless that state of coldness, nay I thank Thee for it, O Lord, as I do for all that Thou send- est me and that I can always use to advantage. For when Thou dost abandon us, Thou makest us feel what miserable vessels of weakness, uncertainty, restless- ness, and doubt we become when we are left to ourselves, without the potent help of Thy living grace; Thou makest us feel how 7 necessarv Thou art to our life. .ND behold, how Thou hast returned to me, O good and blessed Lord! When I sat down at my desk, I intended to write just a few words merely to note my sterility. But first I took up the Gospel, intending to read a few pages, and as I [72] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI was taking it out of the bookcase, my eyes traveled quickly over the backs of some religious volumes, as if mechanically searching for a theme to set down in this diary. O wretch that I am as if I had forgotten, O Lord Jesus, that Thou art not to be found by delving in books but by examining one's own heart. So I opened the Gospel of St. Mark and I read about the Pharisees, the Syro-Phoenician woman, the man who was deaf and dumb, and so on as far as the tenth chapter, but first I kneel, bless myself and pray, as I always do, that the reading may be profitable. Here is the Lord's Prayer, there is the Angelic Salutation, here is the Gloria, here the Salve Regina, and thus I find Thee again at once without any effort, my Jesus, I find Thee again smiling and loving. I pray slowly, with reflection, with joy, and not mechanically. I N the meantime I think vaguely that I shall be able to find a way of doing what I have to do to-day without too much worry. My imperturbable peace returns to me with my confidence, my mastery A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD over myself, and that certain sense of intimate security which Thy love gives me. I rind myself with Thee, Jesus my love, and I say to myself that the theme for these pages has come to me of itself, - that which I mentioned just now. Then I read the chapters of the Gospel, very quietly, without impatience and without haste; I rise, I happen to lay my hand on a book which speaks of Thee, a rather frivolous and affected book, but at the same time quite gentle and tender: La Samaritaine, by Rostand. I dipped into it here and there, and a feeling of tender- ness took possession of me. At almost every page a lump came into my throat and sweet tears rose to my eyes. Then I laid the book aside and sat down to write these pages. T WO hours ago I could find nothing in myself, but as soon as I put pen to paper thoughts welled up in such abun- dance that I have scarcely had time to jot down a few of them, and have let all the others go. This is always the trouble in writing, when one has too much to say: [74] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI one winds up by saying little and that little badly and ill arranged. Two hours ago my soul was a dry, frozen desert, but since I have been writing, it is a meadow full of flowers, of warmth and perfume and light. I LOVE Thee, O Jesus, I cannot say anything else. How good it is to love Thee, O dear Guest of my heart, sweet Jesus! How glad I am to have Thee! Why -didst Thou flee from me? Oh, what a question! I should rather ask myself why I closed the portals of my soul against Thee, when it is so sweet to throw them all w T ide open, to open all the doors to Thee, to go and meet Thee, to greet Thee with festivity, O strong King, O King of Victories! I am happy. I CALL to mind a little story which I read a few days ago in the book of a very learned and pious man, Father Giovanozzi, to whom I owe a great deal - (I pray Thee, with all my heart and with the gratitude of a son and disciple that Thou wilt reward him). It was during [75] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD the eclipse of 1842. "A poor boy of the village of Sieyes (Basses-Alpes) was tend- ing his flock. Being totally ignorant of the event that was about to take place, he saw with uneasiness the sun getting gradually darker, while there was no cloud or mist to give him an explanation of the phenomenon. When the light entirely disappeared all at once, the poor boy, overcome by terror, began to cry and call for help. He was still crying, when the first rays of the sun reappeared. Reassured at that sight, the boy clasped his hands and cried out in his southern dialect: "O beou souleou!" (O beautiful Sun). O Jesus, beautiful Sun! [76] X He ^Meditates on Indulgence to "Those the best they Qan PADUA, Thursday, May i^tb, 1915 OLORD, wilt Thou be satisfied with a few hurried, sleepy words this morning? I did not sleep last night, I am very tired from the journey, and just now, while on my knees reading the Gospel, I felt my eyelids grow heavy and close and found myself betrayed into sleep, in spite of all my efforts to keep awake, so that I scarcely managed to read well the beautiful tenth and eleventh chapters of St. Mark, in which I found Thy commandment, which I shall soon obey: "And Jesus looking on him loved him, and said to him: One thing is wanting unto thee: go, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come follow me." [77] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD T. HOUGH I am sleepy and tired I know that Thou art very indulgent and wilt forgive my physical weakness, for Thou seest well that the spirit is willing, even if the flesh is weak. Besides, the thought of Thy indulgence towards us poor little mortals is one that often gives me comfort. This morning I am a little more sleepy nnd physically tired than usual, but after all am I not always a sleepy, indolent, fraclious, useless, and tired servant of Thine? Are not all of us ever so, even in our best moments? I believe that if we had an adequate idea of how lazy and frail we seem to Thee, O ineffable power and eternal action, in- finitely ardent, loving, untiring, and solic- itous, we should feel too humiliated and abashed. But Thou art also infinitely good, and I am sure Thou art satisfied with just a little good will on our part. But what can we do? We are so small, our Father, our environment is so re- stricted, our mind is so obtuse, our flesh is so frail! And moreover we cannot offer Thee anything that has not already [78] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI been Thine from all eternity, O Lord, O King, O Creator, O Father, O Benefactor, O wise and beloved Master! What can we do? Praise Thee? What is our praise but a confused, maladroit, awkward stam- mering, full of who knows how much absurdity, incongruity, and error, lost in the gigantic whirl of the many myriads of endless worlds that sing majestically such complete and sublime praises to Thy wisdom? Do Thou make up for our misery, O Lord! What a joy for me to feel that Thou art looking down upon us, smiling and indulgent like a father! Some- times Thou sayest: Poor children, they are doing what they can. So now Thou art not regarding my sleepy weariness but my tender trusting love. Sometimes when, in some divine service, I hear hoarse or strident voices out of time and tune, and among these the quavering accents of a dear old man, together with the shrill tones of a little boy, I am seized with a melting tenderness at the thought that Thou art there above, listening gladly and saying to Thyself: Poor little creatures, they are doing what they can. [79] A SOLDIERS CONFIDENCES WITH GOD k ND all Thy angels are there beside us, exchanging happy kindly smiles. And perhaps this poor, discordant, miserable chorus of us sinners, floundering here below in the quagmire of this wretched world, this choir of poor little recruits, among the least of Thy Church militant, may be no less pleasing to Thee than the immense harmonious chorus which the shining legions of Thy Church triumphant are raising at the foot of Thy throne. I LEAVE Thee, therefore, for to-day, O Lord, sure of Thy forgiveness. I need to feel Thee loving and kind with me, because this morning I want to approach Thy holy Table and feed on Thy holy Body. I want to celebrate this beautiful, trium- phal day of Thy Church, the Ascension. "Allelujah, Christ the Lord is ascended into heaven, come, let us adore, allelujah ! " J I NOTICE in the office of to-day a most apposite suggestion from Pope St. Greg- 1 Alleluia Christum Dominum ascendentum in coelum. venite adoremus, alleluia! [80] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI ory's homily on the doubts of the apostles as to the reality of the resurrection. Their doubts, which made them so slow to surrender to the evidence, help splendidly to confirm our certainty when we read: "Mary Magdalen who believed so soon has helped me less than Thomas, who doubted so long. For he, by his doubts, touched the scars of the wounds and thus removed from our heart the wound of doubt." 1 F INALLY, O Jesus, I remember Thy promise. "And I will ask the Father and He shall give you another Paraclete, that He may abide with you forever the Spirit of truth. For if I go not, the Paraclete will not come to you; but if I go, I will send Him to you." 2 O HOLY SPIRIT enlighten us in our misery, for we are in great need of it. 1 Minus enim mihi Maria Maddalena praestmt, quae citius credidit, quern Thomas, qui diu dubitavit. Ille etenim, dubitando, vulnerum cicatrices tetigit, et de nostro pectore dubitationis vulnus amputavit. 2 Ego rogabo Patrem et alium Paraclitum dabit vobis ut maneat vobiscum in aeternum, Spiritum ventatis: Si enim non abiero, Paraclitus non vemet ad vos, si autem abiero, mittam eum ad vos. (John xiv, 16-17; xvi, 7.) [81] XI He T^eproaches himself for ^Pharisaical 'Vainglory FLORENCE, Friday, May i^th, 1915 WHILE writing yesterday, O Lord, I omitted as usual a great many things which crossed my mind at the time, and among them not the least of those necessary to understand thoroughly what I w y anted to say, partly because I write too rapidly, partly because of the weakness and distrac- tion of my mind, and partly because my enjoyment of the liberty of writing as it were at random, and without literary accuracy, leads me to be slipshod and careless. But I really \vant to note in passing that I have not yet learned to write well in this book, to write as St. Augustine teaches and as the pages of Gratry comment. I observe that I should write more slowly and make up for my [82] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI mental deficiency by writing little, but accurately and clearly, rather than by writing a great deal, and this strained, confused, and defective. Thy good serv- ant, Jesus, must always be simple and tranquil, modest and slow, refledhve, cau- tious, and attentive to detail. I OBSERVE also that I am writing these pages with a certain amount of vain- glory and hypocritical frivolity, vaguely hoping that some day they may be found, read, and admired, while in the meantime I have complacently shown them to a few persons myself to parade my learning, to arouse admiration for my devout practices, and to have myself esteemed above what I am. Detestable thought! so wicked and unworthy, so contrary to Thy teachings, O Jesus, that I almost think it would be better to give up this practice as dangerous to my weakness. In my devotion there is evident a phari- saical fondness for ostentation, poorly concealed and badly justified by a longing to convince others of my sincerity and to set an efficacious example. I preach a [83] A SOLDIERS CONFIDENCES WITH GOD great deal, not merely to convince, but also to show off my sacred learning, which in reality is very superficial, very weak, and very meager, but which seems to others rare and exceptional because of the general enormous ignorance of such matters. It would be much better for me to argue less, talk less, to pray in Church with less ostentation, not to pull out my beads in cafes, and in conversation not to tell everybody, even the indifferent, about my most intimate religious practices, not to make religion the perpetual theme of my conversation, not to inform every Tom, Dick, and Harry about my habit of writing these pages, much less flourish them in their faces with an assumed air of carelessness and simplicity, taking special pains, however, to put my finger on the Latin quotations, and so forth. 1 In this behavior of mine there is a certain infatuated levity, an ardor that is largely ingenuous and sincere, an innocent vanity without malice, but there is also ostenta- tion, mania to be peculiar, desire to 1 [Editor's Note. In the original text the quotations are always in Latin or French.] [8 4 ] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI attract attention and undue admiration by taking advantage of the yearning interest that religious problems kindle in all men's minds now as always, even in this age of cold, studied indifference, - manifest proof of their decisive importance for all and of the gravity and justice of the cause of God. PURPOSE, therefore, to be better in all ways, even in the interest of the cause I am defending, for my methods are so awkward and clumsy that they injure rather than benefit it. Ostentation and pose do not escape the notice of even the most obtuse of observers, who is always sharp enough when it comes to seeing the mote in the eyes of another rather than the beam in his own; so I may easily make myself a poor reputation as insincere, fond of singularity, a poser. Moreover I must from now on consider better that true virtue is obscure and modest, hidden from the eyes of the world, and only thus can it be profitable to itself and to souls, only thus can it be pleasing and acceptable to God. [85] A SOLDIERS CONFIDENCES WITH GOD J, MUST not be among those who find their reward here, but I must put my trust in Him Who sees in secret. My left hand must not know what my right hand does. I must learn to be silent and a noiseless, attentive servant, not a gossip and a braggart; I must learn not to be vain, but to concentrate myself silently and humbly in Thy love, O Jesus. jf"\ND now I shall defer until to-morrow what I wanted to add to the words of yesterday. But I will jot down one idea, which does not seem bad: It might, perhaps, be well to destroy these first pages that I have written, and to regard them as a mere exercise and nothing more. But we shall see later on, for, whether bad or good, they are always documents of more or less sincerity and, it seems to me, will certainly be useful in investigating and getting to know myself better. In fact the true object of my writing is to learn to listen to myself and to know myself as I am, besides loving Thee, O Lord, with a material act of constant devotion. [86] XII He discourses on the Folly of T^e lying too much on . the Forbearance of Cjocl Saturday, May i$tb, 1915 WHAT I intended to add to the few sleepy notes I jotted dDwn the day before yester- day, Lord, is that while we, Thy poor children, must count much upon Thy indulgence in that little good which we do by Thy grace, we must not count too much on Thy kindness when we do wrong, for though Thou art a loving and merciful Father, ready to make up a thousand-fold for our shortcomings when we show Thee, under that penetrating glance from which nothing can be hidden, that W T C are sincere; yet Thou art not a weak, easygoing Father who readily con- dones. We are so wretchedly inefficient, so needy of Thy guidance, help, and [87] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD support, that when we do good in our own way we always do it badly, hastily, negligently, and inattentively, making many little mistakes and follies. It would be absolutely fruitless, vain, and useless, nay ridiculous and dangerous, if it were not for the necessary, indispensable succor of Thy sovereign grace. yet Thou art so divinely good, O Lord, so kind, beneficent, and generous, that Thou deignest to make use of us, Thy poor, unworthy, awkward servants, as Thy free and meritorious co-workers. The very thought of Thy boundless good- ness ought to intoxicate us all with love, gratitude, and confusion. In the words of St. Augustine, "The grace of God does not work alone, nor man alone, but the grace of God with man." * Thou hast made us, O Lord, as it were actual fellow workers with Thee, and this thought is truly staggering. It would paralyze all our strength were we not very sure of Thy goodness, knowing for certain that 1 Nee gratia Dei sola, nee ipse solus, sed gratia Dei cum illo. [88] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSl Thou art here at our side, to inspire us, to assist us, to encourage us, to guide our hands; otherwise how could we dare to stand alongside of Thee, Thou divine, in- fallible worker, Who deignest to call to Thy service such inefficient pygmies as we are? I N doing good, therefore, we can count upon Thy indulgence when we are aduated by a small amount of good will. Even if we make mistakes, even if we do little, and that badly patience! Thou seest into our hearts, Thou dost excuse us, Thou dost appreciate even the widow's mite. Thou considerest the endeavor, not the result; Thou lookest at the heart, not the ad, and Thou takest good inten- tions into account. So our feeble chorus of uncertain, tremulous, and badly har- monized voices, which do not keep time, our slipshod Latin, crude simple words and childish music, out ot tune, are no less pleasing and acceptable to Thy gener- ous heart, O good, kind Lord, than the ineffable, infinite, harmonious, angelic choirs of paradise, which look upon Thy glory. [89] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD A POOR savage wears hanging from his neck a sardine-tin picked up empty and greasy in some explorer's abandoned camp; this box constitutes his greatest treasure; he makes a parade of it, he prizes it as dearly as his own life. Now suppose that some day this poor savage, wishing to show his affection and gratitude to the missionary father who has converted him and given him Baptism, presents that empty box to him, has the missionary a right to despise the gift? The fad: that the present is worthless in the eyes of the recipient does not make it less touching and eloquent, for it has been offered by a grateful heart. ANYTHING we can give and sacrifice to Thee, my God, will always be nothing to Thee, Who hast everything and dost not need anything, Who hast created all things and possessest all things, Who disposest of all things as best pleaseth Thee. But that which we can give Thee freely, O Lord, is our heart, and even this Thou couldst take by force any time [90] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI Thou wishest, but Thou desirest to have it from us as a free, spontaneous, un- solicited homage. This is the real gift which we can make Thee in return for Thy immense love; this is the gift most dear to Thy paternal Heart. B >UT if we must trust in Thy indulgent kindness toward the good we do, we must not place too great reliance on Thy for- bearance towards evil, on the contrary we must fear Thee as a stern and inex- orable Judge. Indeed, no error is more fatal, more pitiful and absurd than that which would attribute too great kindness to Thee and refuse to believe in Thy justice, because it deems this to be incom- patible with Thy kindness and evidence of an angry and revengeful disposition. Yet, on the contrary, it would really be unjust if good and evil were rewarded by Thee with the same indulgence; it would be treating the good unfairly, it would be defrauding them. The mere idea of it makes one instantly think that the creation of man and of the world was absurd and useless; for that would be giving the same [90 A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH COD value to good and evil, considering both of them as zero, abolishing the very concept of them. Thy infinite goodness is suffi- ciently proven by Thy readiness to forgive. For Thou receivest whomsoever turns to Thee, even though he may have fallen to the lowest depths, into extreme despair, and Thou rejoicest over one sinner who re- turns more than over ninety-nine who have ever been faithful. This goodness of Thine will be the real condemnation, the irrefutable accusation, the extreme con- fusion of the obstinate, impenitent sinner. It is just that Thou dost exacl: payment even to the uttermost farthing, not because evil offends Thee, but that justice be done. Making Thee overkind, O Lord, means doing away with Thy justice, therefore belittling Thee and not exalting Thee, as many believe (or rather pretend or try to make themselves believe, so as to feel more easy and to put their con- sciences to sleep). But this is futile. A far-seeing French writer wisely remarks in a recent book: "By relying on the infinite goodness of God, he lulled to sleep the sharpness of the reproach that [92] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI rose, in spite of all, from the depths of his conscience. He knew perfectly well that this presuming on pardon from on high was but a perverted form of complai- sance in his sin. This apparent excess of faith hides a lamentable diminution of Faith Revelation, the Scriptures, and the Church held of no account, an aban- doned relaxation of all discipline and dogma. The least book of theology teaches us that relying upon the divine mercy in the very act of sinning is a sin against Hope." l O truths are so clear as this, and one must be voluntarily blind not to see them. I thank Thee, O Lord, for making it seem so clear and transparent to me. I do not want to forget for a moment, if 1 II endormait la vivacite du reproche qui s'elevait, malgre tout, du fond de sa conscience, en se reposant sur la bonte intinie de Dieu. II savait bien que cette pre- somption du pardon d'En Haut n'est qu'une forme dc- tournee de la complaisance dans la faute. Get apparent exces de la Foi cache une lamentable diminution de la Foi: la Revelation, I'Ecnture, I'Eghse tenues pour nen, un relachement abandonne de toute discipline et de tout dogme. . . . Le moindre livre de theologie enseigne q'ie c'est pecher centre 1'esperance que s'appuyer, dans la faute meme, sur la misgrjcorde divine. [93] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD Thou wilt help me, that while it is true that Thou art most indulgent and all merciful, it is also true that Thou art scrupulously just and severe and that "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." l 1 Initium sapientiae timor Domini. (Psalm x, 10.) [94] XIII He breaks forth into a T^hapsody of Holy jTove Sunday, May i6th, 1915 f^~ "^ 3-DAY, O Lord, to my shame, I have put off writing until M late, at the close of the day, instead of in the morning as I should have done. But for two days I have been very tired physically and I have not had a minute to myself since Mass, while before Mass I was at fault in staying too long in bed, reading. Yet notwithstanding the bad beginning, I can say that I have kept Thy day holy fairly well, Lord. I heard Mass well, I assisted with great fervor at Benediction, I spoke earnestly of Thee to well-disposed persons, I brought consolation to a few hearts and joy to others. I HAD vaguely intended to write some- thing to-day about the seed that perishes, [95] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD but I shall keep this for another time. This evening, instead, I want to speak to Thee only of love, O Jesus, because to-day I have loved Thee much and well, at least within the limits of my slight strength and of my wretched poverty of mind. How good art Thou, Jesus, to let us love Thee! How sweet it is to love Thee! What intoxicating joy! I have an unquenchable thirst for Thee, my good Jesus, dear Master, adorable Brother, longed-for Spouse, faithful Friend, my only protector! How all-sufficient Thou art! How Thou dost satisfy! How Thou dost give rest, life, consolation, courage, strength, O Jesus, my soul, my heart, my sweetness! O yes, yes! why should I not address to Thee these tender words of love which so often in my foolish youth I have profaned, wasted, and defiled by offering them to poor creatures, as wretched and unworthy as myself? I F I have always used them badly, is this not a good reason why I should use them well at last? If I have so often profaned them by putting them to un- [96] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI worthy uses, is this not the best of reasons why I should try now to reconsecrate and purify them for Thee? Lord, dear good Lord, I am Thine, all Thine, and I want to be and I shall always be Thine; I want to become imbued with Thee, to live with Thee, to die for Thee, to be born again in Thee. My only treasure, I want to love Thee forever. I love Thee, I love Thee, I cannot tell Thee how much I love Thee, how my heart throbs and beats for Thee. May Thy grace make it more so every day! And every day my love for Thee is becoming more intimate, less timid, bolder, more confident and familiar, more precise and transparent, no longer vague and clouded and in- tangible as in the past. o 'H, those horrible days w T hen I never thought of Thee, never, never, not even by chance as if Thou didst not exist! Oh, what a terror! I think of them now with a shiver of horror and disgust. But how Thou didst punish me for my blind- ness, O Jesus, by leaving me in my abjec- tion! My language used to be vile, [97] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD obscene, full of indecencies and of blasphemies. I had many unspeakable, degrading, dishonorable, secret vices that made me vile in my own eyes. I was filthy my soul was saturated with filth. I was discontented with myself, irritable, malicious, slanderous, devoid of ideas. I was vain, frivolous, full of myself, proud, hasty, embittered by a cloak of rancor, trembling for my future, frightened in a thousand ways, and I was at the same time a boaster and a braggart. But to-day! From how many evils I am free, what poisonous weeds I have altogether rooted out! How happy I feel! B UT even when I was beginning to profess some sympathy for the ideas that are to-day my joy, my salvation, my constant, eager, fervent and overpowering thought, how foolish and presumptuous I was, how sterile and utterly insincere! With what imperturbable and brazen- faced audacity I used to speak on subjects I knew nothing about, and how I used to pervert Thy luminous fertile words of love! Though I called myself a Catholic, [98] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI I was still steeped to the neck in sin; I not only did not frequent the Sacraments, but ignored them, did not even know what they meant; I did not even know what the Mass was! JNfD yet, at times, how Thy love was already drawing me gently, slowly but surely, more strongly day by day, ever more distinctly! How Thou didst open my eyes little by little! How good Thou wert with me even then! And yet I was still neglecting Thee; I was still living my monotonous, disorderly life, full of contradictions and vileness, bound by the chains of my passions. But now, how much better do I feel, how full of courage and confidence! How many gifts I have already received! How many more shall I get if only I desire them! How much progress I have already made! How I see that Thou dost not promise in vain, Jesus! Thou always givest to him who asks of Thee with faith, Thou always openest to him who knocks with con- fidence, Thou always lettest Thyself be found by him who seeks Thee with perse- [99] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD verance and desire. Dearest Jesus, my delight, my love, sweetness of my heart! H< OW well I remember the days when I scarcely loved Thee, loved Thee rather wearily and distractedly, with timid con- straint and with little desire and did not yet know how good and beautiful Thou art! And the days of last year, with their first fervor of studies, their eager desire to read, my wonderment, my insatiable curiosity, the floods of light and of truth that overwhelmed me, the certitude made every day more sound, the way of justice recognized, demon- strated, proved to me in a thousand ways! Jesus, I should like to throw myself into Thy arms, to rest upon Thy lap like a baby and tell Thee many, many things! 1 should like to feel Thy gentle hand, so beneficent, so sweet, so loving and kind, caressing my hair softly and hngeringly. I should like to shed all my tears just like a little child. Thou art even now too good to me, O Lord. I feel there are superhuman joys in store for me even in this life, and then there still remains all [ 100 ] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI that eternity which I cannot even conceive. Ah, too good, too good, Thou art with us all! My God, what shall I do to love Thee enough? Make me to suffer at once, put me to the test, torture me; I wait without trembling. All, all whatso- ever Thou desirest, O Lord, whensoever Thou desirest, in whatsoever way Thou desirest; I am ready, if that is the best way to show how much I love Thee. [101] 1 XIV He 'Philosophizes on the Seed that ^Perishes Monday, May ifth, 1915 seed must die to give life to the plant that will bear a thou- sand fruits. If I am not losing myself in a maze of subtleties, as I very much fear, O Lord, a glimmering of this essential truth appeared to me a few days ago in reading my Spiritual Will, which had been returned to me from Switzerland a few months after I sent it, and without keeping a copy. Those few pages which I should like to make known to many (for the love of Thee, Lord, and not of myself) had almost passed out of my mind, and I read them again as if they had not been written by me. What I say now is really so; those pages were not written by me except materially, as if they had been dictated to me. Whatever of my own I put into them is error, con- [ 102] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI fusion, disorder, imperfection, and preten- tiousness, but their truth is all Thine, O Lord. So the impression which I received in reading them again was one of things absolutely extraneous to my spirit, de- tached from me. Before them I was nothing but a passive spectator, like anybody else that might have read them. They were ideas which I had received and gathered up and then scattered far from me, no longer mine, half dead for me. 1 k ND then I perceived that in this life, which is a continuous death, everything is so, everything dies for us, everything de- taches itself and goes elsewhere, to grow and bloom and fructify on its own account. Then perhaps, some day, if we shall have deserved it, we may come to enjoy our share of our own fruits. Everything that comes from us goes away to die to us, and here below we cannot gather its fruit, for one is the sower and another is the reaper. Father and mother see their son separate himself from them to grow up and live on his own account. The act of pity, of love, of wisdom 1 See Spiritual Will, p. 351. [ IO 3 3 A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD dies for him who performs it. If he at once receive thanks and praise and honor, he is specially unfortunate, because he is among those who have already received their reward; he is among those who have plucked the unripe fruit in eagerness and haste. Imprudent haste! For the fruit is bitter and sour; it does not satisfy; it increases the hunger, and w r ill prevent us from enjoying the real, ripe fruit which satisfies. Woe to the impatient, woe! Let us be resigned to see our seed perish. Nay, better yet, let us thank the Lord for it and rejoice if in this also His will and not ours be done here on earth as it is in heaven. Let us be glad to feel that our life is dry, barren, destitute, obscure, cold, deprived of light and freshness, hard and laborious, and given up altogether to toil, because afterwards shall come, O Lord, afterwards shall come Thy eternal spring. Yes, yes, let everything here below be death death and sacrifice! Death to us, death to what is ours, - blood, ruin, extermination, desolation, re- nunciation, labor! Let the seed go down beneath the earth and rot! [ 104] COLLOQUIES OF G1OSUE BORSI OWEET death, beautiful, good, gay, gentle sister of us all! How dear thou art to him who looks upon thee with desire, loving God! Truly the clamor of these dwarfs who are afraid of thee and squabble among themselves in an effort to snatch sour fruits from one another, while at the same time, wretches that they are, they dare to laugh at us because they do not know the reason for our renunciation, is truly pitiful and sad. They think that they are enjoying them- selves and living, and they are dying, dying quickly all the time. They are afraid of death, and they have death enthroned within them, inexorable. On the other hand, O Lord, how gay and cheerful and good is the labor of us who persevere in hope! It is already our happiness here below. EVERYTHING here on earth is a seed that dies. Thou, Thyself, Jesus, wast the seed that dies, is buried and rises again to life eternal. All of us must die with Thee to live again in Thee. Thus [105] A SOLDIER S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD our bodies die to live again on the day when all the human race shall be judged. Thus the word we speak issues from us, dies for us and goes to live elsewhere. Thus the deed that we have performed is dead for us, and its fruit depends no longer on our will, for it is a part of us no more. He who believes that the uttered word, the deed performed is still his own, outrages, I think, the providence of the Lord Who decreed that memory should consist chiefly in forgetting. The man who still loves himself, who has not yet learned the great virtue of hating himself and of dying unto himself to be born again in the light of the Lord, is a man who trusts his memory, which is to say that he puts his faith in the most inconstant and untrustworthy friend there is. He believes in the constancy and reliability of remembrance, but he is deceiving himself. The thing done, whether it be good or evil, once it is done, is past and gone. Memory is a faculty that forgets. Memory is not complete and faithful, except in the presence of its objects. When the celestial light of ideas [106] COLLOQUIES OF GIOSUE BORSI shines upon it, he imagines that this light will never be taken away and that it will always look upon the same spectacle. Do not believe it, for w T hen the light shall have gone, memory will grow pale, like nature when the sun is gone, for here absence means oblivion. T. HIS is the truth, Lord: Memory is faithful and perfect only in the presence of its objects. But only above, O Lord, shall we truly be in the presence of these objects when we shall be in Thy presence and shall see in Thee, inclosed and bound with love in one volume, all "cio che per 1'Universo si squaderna" (that which is manifested throughout the Universe). T. HEN only will our memory be faithful and complete; nay, it will no longer be memory but direct vision and reality. Our good and our evil can never more come to life there; it is dead for us; and in this inexorable law consists the chastise- ment of those merry fools who go to so much pains to acquire an earthly posses- sion, to taste a fleeting joy and procure a [107] A SOLDIER'S CONFIDENCES WITH GOD mundane pleasure, for they either forget or do not understand that they kill pleasure the moment they enjoy it, and from that moment they have nothing left of that pleasure but a putrid corpse. XV He