Nobility at the cross. Life of Monsieur de Renty

Introduction

ONSIEUR DE RENTY of France, a brief sketch of whose life is given in the following pages, was, in view of the times in which he lived, one of the most remarkable men of any age. He lived at a time when spirituality was at the lowest possible ebb. Religious wars between Catholics and Protestants were at their height, resulting in the sacrifice of not less than one million lives. Louis XIII., having banished his queen-mother, was on the throne ; and the intriguing, Protestant-hating Richelieu was his minister.

i ii Introduction.

M. De Renty, being a nobleman, or peer of France, was, of necessity, more or less identified with public affairs. He seems to have been a man of uncommon business ability, attending to all bis civil, social, and domestic duties with conscientious exactness.

He had a remarkable religious experience. Living before F6nelon and Madame Guyon, those great lights of the seventeenth century, he did not follow them as an example. How far his holy life influenced them, we are unable to say. But he had no need of such examples, as he in all things followed Christ.

His piety was not so much of the mystic or quietistic, as of the active type. Though a devout member of the Romish Church, he was untrammelled by her forms, and unstained by her persecuting spirit. He was pre-eminently a light in a dark place. His soul thirsted not only to be lost in the divine

Introduction* iii

will, but to glorify that will in blessing and saving souls.

The love of God, with which his soul at all times seemed inflamed, prompted him to engage, without any reference to sacrifice or reproach, in any and every work to which the divine law or the manifest needs of humanity called.

This little volume was first published by Rev* John Wesley, forming a part of one of the volumes of his early works. We are not aware of its having been published in English in any other form ; and even this has been for a long time out of print.

The style was not smooth, being remarkably antique. To conform it somewhat to modern style, we have made such changes in the phraseology as we judged necessary ; in all cases retaining the sense, as well as the exact language, of M. De Renty wherever introduced.

iv Introduction.

The reader will still observe that the style is not as modern as could be desired, and could not be, without a complete reconstruction of the book. But we are sure that any defect in the style will be forgotten by the devout reader, as he imbibes the earnest, loving, God-adoring spirit which is manifest on almost every page.

We are sure that no Christian can read this little volume through without catching the spirit of the subject, and being made better. It is another practical example of what grace can do for a human soul under the most disadvantageous circumstances, and connected with corrupt forms of Christianity. May it help all to trust Christ more fully for the fulness of God !

W. Mo Donald.

Boston, 1873.

Monsieur De Renty.

Chapter I. His Birth, Marriage, And General "way Of Life

De RENTY descended from one of the most noble houses of Artois. He was the only son of Charles De Renty, and was born in the year 1611, at Beny in Low Normandy. When about six or seven years of age, his mother carried him to Paris, where he lived with her about two years, when he was put into the college of Navarre. He was subsequently sent to Caen, where he remained until he was seventeen, at which, time he was removed to an acadenry, or school of genteel exercises, in Paris. He soon became accomplished in all the exercises there taught. But what most pleased him was mathematics ; for the study of which he slighted all sorts of diversions till he had thoroughly mastered them. He composed several books upon the subject.

About this time a stationer, with whom he traded, presented him with Kempis's " Imitation of Christ," and pressed him to read it ; which he had no sooner done than he felt new thoughts and affections, and resolved seriously to pursue the one thing needful, — - the working-out of his salvation. He so esteemed this book, that, ever after, he carried it about him, and made use of it on all occasions.

At the age of twenty-two he married Elizabeth de Balsac, daughter of the Count of Graville, by whom he had five children, four of whom (two sons and two daughters) survived him.

Having lived to the age of twenty-seven years, it pleased God to touch his heart more powerfully. This was the beginning of that entire change, that perfect consecration to God's service, which characterized his whole life. He was well convinced of the necessity of a good spiritual guide, if he would be successful ; and God provided him one, such as his need required, — a person of much learning, of deep piety, and well experienced in giving directions of souls. He was under this man's instruction for twelve years. By his advice, he withdrew altogether from court ; he renounced all visits of pure compliment, and all unnecessary employments, to give himself up to those which might glorify God, and help his neighbor.

Every day before dinner, and again in the evening, he made a careful search into his smallest faults. He frequently went to the sacrament, having ever an incredible esteem of the holy eucharist, blessing and praising God for its institution, and exciting all men to do the same. He was wont to say, " that the great design of God in the incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of his Son, was to convey to us his Spirit, to be unto us life eternal ; and in order to cause us to die to ourselves, and live thereby, he gave him to us in this holy sacrament, and with him all the blessings of grace, to dispose us for those of glory."

One day in each week he visited the poor sick people of the great hospital De Dieu ; another, those of his own parish • a third, the prisoners ; and in the rest he used to meet in assemblies for the promotion of piety. He assembled his own family every evening for prayers, and discoursed to them every Saturday on the gospel for the next day. And of his children he took more special care to engrave deeply in their minds the fear of God, and to convince them that the customs and maxims of the world were utterly irreconcilable to the gospel of Christ.

In his journeys he observed the following order : In the morning, before setting out, they joined in prayer ; after setting out, the first thing done was the saying the itinerarium ; next, singing the litanies of our Lord; then followed some meditation, and, after that, a part of the divine office. This being done, he entertained the company with some instructive discourse. Beholding the spacious extent of the country, he would speak of the immensity of God. Upon the presenting of any beautiful object, he would discourse of the beauty of God, and in so lively a manner as to touch the very heart. Approaching near the place where they were to dine, he began his self-examination : and being come thither, as soon as he was out of his coach, he went to the church ; and next, if there were any in the place, to the hospital. Being £t his inn, the first thing he did in his chamber was to cast himself on his knees, and to pray with great affection for all persons that entered that place, and for pardon of all disorders that had been there committed. If he saw any thing offensive written on the walls or chimneys, he defaced it, and in the place wrote something of instruction. And always before his departure he endeavored to give some good advice to the servants of the house, or to such poor as he met with, that so he might not pass through any place without doing some good there. After dinner, when in his coach again, he took a little time for recollection, then sung the vespers; which done, he desired the company to engage in some useful conversation. About four they sung the evening psalms ; afterward he applied himself to mental prayer ; and, being come to his inn, his exercises were the same with those of the morning.

A fuller account of his general way of life he wrote to his second director, as follows : —

" I have delayed some days after the command I had to set down the employing of my time, for the better discovering of some things therein ; but I find nothing there of strict order, because all consists in following the order of God, which causes, in a manner, continually different things, though all upon the same foundation.

"For my outward behavior, I usually rise at five, that is, after part of the night spent in prayer. At my awakening, I consider myself as nothing before the majesty of God. I unite me to his Son and Spirit. Being risen, I cast myself down, and adore the blessing of the incarnation, which gives us access to God ; and deliver up myself to the Holy Jesus, to be entered into his Spirit.

" Being clothed, I go into the chapel, where I cast myself down, and adore God, abasing me before him, and making myself the most little, most naked, most empty, that I can ; and I hold me there by faith, having recourse to his Son and to his Holy Spirit, that whatsoever is his pleasure may be done by me.

" Between six and seven I read two chapters of the New Testament, bare headed and on my knees. I then give place to my affairs ; but, if there be no business urgent, I prostrate myself before God till I go to church. There I stay till half an hour past * eleven, except when we dine some poor people : then I return at eleven. Before dinner I examine myself, and use some prayers for the Church, and for the propagation of the faith. I dine at twelve, and in the while have something read. Half an hour past twelve, I spend an hour with them that have business with me. Then I go out whither the order of God shall direct. Some days are assigned for certain exercises, others are not ; but, be it as it will, I endeavor to spend, about evening, an hour in devotion. About seven, after I have used some prayers, we go to supper. After supper I instruct my children. At nine are family prayers, after which I meditate till ten; and then going to my chamber, and recommending myself to my God, after some short prayers, I endeavor to repose.

" As to the order of my interior, I have not, as I may say, any ; for, since I left my ' Breviary,' * all my forms have left me ; and now, instead of serving me as means to go to God, they would only be hinderances.f I bear in me ordinarily an experimental verity, and a plenitude of the presence of the most Holy Trinity, which elevates me to a simple view of God; and with that I do all that his providence enjoins me, not regarding any thing for their greatness or littleness, but only the order of God, and the glory they may render him.

" For the things done in communit}^, I often cannot rest there. I perform, indeed, the exterior for the keeping of order, but follow always my interior, because, when a man hath God, there is no need to search for him elsewhere. And, when he holds us in one manner, it is not for us to take hold of him in

* A book containing the daily service of the Roman- Catholic Church.

t Let prayer-readers remember this. A full soul needs no book.

another ; and the soul knows well what unites it, and what multiplies and directs it.

" For the interior, therefore, I follow his attractive ; * and, for the exterior, I see the divine will, which I follow, with the discernment of his Spirit, in all simplicity : and so I possess by his grace, in all things, silence of spirit, a profound reverence, and solid peace. I continually give up myself to God through Jesus Christ, worshipping him in spirit and in truth, loving him with all my heart, with all my soul, with all my mind, and with all my strength, and seeing in all things the conduct of God, and adorning and following it. And, this only abiding in my soul, all things else are defaced and blotted out. I have nothing of sensible in me, unless now and then some transitory touches. But, if any dare to say it, when I sound my will, I find it so quick and flaming, that it would devour me, if the same Lord who animates it, though unworthy, did not restrain it.

General Way of Life.

I enter into a heat and into fire, and, even to my fingers' ends, feel that all within me speaks for its God, and stretcheth itself forth in length and breadth in his immensity, that it may there dissolve, and there lose itself, to glorify him/'

Chapter II. His Humility

g@T. AUSTIN well observes, that povt/ erty of spirit is nothing else but humility: the truly humble, knowing ,Q) themselves to be nothing of themselves but sin and misery ; to have nothing ; as being at best but manifold receivers of the grace of God ; to be able to do nothing ; having no power of themselves even to think a good thought ; and to deserve nothing but shame and contempt, but misery and punishment. And they are willing, yea desirous, that all others should think of them as they do of themselves.

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

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

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

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

But he was much humbled by the consideration of his past sins. In one of his letters to his director, he writes thus, " My faults are as one great heap, which I feel in myself, obstructing the light from God. I am strangely remiss and ungrateful : I find much in myself to confound and humble me. 5 ' In another, " I am as blind, or rather more, in seeing my faults as in other things. Only in general, I have a deep sense of my misery ; and I can say I am not ignorant of my unworthiness, and the deplorable corruption sin hath wrought in me. But lately I mentioned the faults of a certain person to another, that knew of them before, to make him understand that he was in a better condition. But my conscience reproached me, that I might have done this without ; and I confess I meddled too much in that affair. In sum, I am a straggler from God, and a ground overrun with thorns."

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

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

He likewise esteemed himself most unworthy of any of the grace or favors of God. Of which he says to a friend, " The gifts of God are sometimes so great, that they put us beyond ourselves. As among men, if a poor man receives a gift from a prince, according to the grandeur of his own power, he is

22 Monsieur Be Rerity.

utterly overwhelmed, and can find no words to express his acknowledgment : so God gives blessings that go beyond our expectations or capacities, and which make us see how unworthy we are, without daring to lift up our eyes, so doth their brightness dazzle, and their greatness astonish us."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Being obliged, one day, to go to a person of great quality on business which much concerned the glory of God, he would not consent to use his coach, though he was to traverse, in a manner, all Paris in a pouring rain. One requested, that at least his footman carry a cloak, which he might use when he returned. But he yielded not. He only consented to throw the cloak over him ; and in the nobleman's house he laid aside the wet cloak, and appeared in the other ordinary one of his own.

Another example of his humility, of which he wrote to his director, Dec. 26, 1646 : —

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

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

" Walking one day through the streets of Paris in a mean dress, I deeply reflected on that of the apostle, 4 We are become as the filth and off-scouring of the world.' I considered how much neatness and new things, even in the most trifling instances, do hurt (if one take not good heed) the simplicity and lowliness of a Christian spirit. And I saw it was a great temptation for any to think to preserve his outward grandeur in hopes thereby to have more weight and authority for the service of God. This is a pretence, indeed, that the infirmity of most Christians makes use of in the beginning ; but experience draws them at last to Jesus Christ, who was made the lowest of men."

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

Jesus Christ, in simplicity and truth. I pretend to nothing in this world but this ; and beside this I desire nothing."

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

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

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

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