ants (tr. 1897); Lejeune, Manuel dc thiologic mystique 1S97): DuBLANCHT, Asceticism in Diet, dc thiol, cath. itl'JO.ii ; Marf.chaux, he merveilleux dii-in et le merveilleux hnoniaque (Paris, 1901); Ribet. La mysliquc divine. (Paris. 95) ; Bakeh. tianeta Sophia, or Direction.'! for the Praiier Contemplation (Douai, 1657); Hilton, Scnle of Perfection >rint«1 bv Wynkin de Worde, 1494); Doyle, Principles of eligious Life (3rd ed., London, 1906); De\i.ne, A Manual of (ystical Theology (London, 1903). AtTG PoULAIN
Contemplative Life, a life ordered in view of contemplation ; a way of living especially adapted to lead
) and facilitate contemplation, while it excludes
II other preoccupations and intents. To seek to
now and love God more and more is a duty incum-
ant on evcrj- Christian and should be his chief pursuit,
id in this wide sense the Christian and the contem-
lative lives are synonJ^nous. This duty, however,
Imits of various degrees in it,s fulfilment. Many give
it only a part of their time and attention, either
om lack of piety or because of other duties; others
tempt to blend harmoniously the contemplative life
ith active ministry, i. e. the care of souls, which,
idertaken from a motive of supernatural charity, can
made compat iblc with the inner life. Others again,
ho have the will and the means, aim at accomplishing
,e duty of contemplation to the utmost perfection,
id give up all occupiations inconsistent with it, or
hich, on account of man's limited abilities, of their
iture would impede it. The custom has prevailed of
iplving the term " contemplative" only to the life led
tfic latter.
Contemplation, the object of contemplative life, is
fined as the complacent, loving gaze of the soul on
ivinc truth already known and apprehended by the
tellect a.ssi.sted and enlightened by Divine grace,
lis definition shows the two chief differences between
e contemplation of the Christian ascetic and the
erely scientific research of the theologian. The con-
mplative. in his investigation of Divine things, is
tuated by love for those things, and to increase this
ve is his ultimate purpose, as well as the firstfruits of
contem]5lation ; in other words the theological vir-
e of charity is the mainspring as well as the outcome
the act of contemplation. Again, the contempla-
te does not rely on the natural powers of his intellect
his endeavours to gain cognizance of the truth, but,
owing that hiunan reason is limited and weak, espe-
lUy when inquiring into things supernatural, he
jks aid from above by prayer, and by the practice of
Christian virtues strives to fit his soul for the grace
desires. The act of contemplation, imperfect as it
eds must be, is of all himian acts one of the most
blime, one of those which render greatest honour to
)d, bring the greatest good to the soul, and enable it
3st efficaciously to become a means of salvation and
manifold blessing to others. According to St. Ber-
rd (Dc Consider., lib. 1, c. vii), it is the highest form
human worship, as it is essentially an act of adora-
m and of utter self-surrender of man's whole being.
le soul in contemplation is a soul lying prostrate be-
veGod, convinced of and confessing its own nothing-
Wss and His worthiness to receive all love and glory
ifld honour and blessings from those He has created.
flis a soul lost in admiration and love of the Etern.al
wsuty. the sight of which though but a feeble reflec-
'■n. fill it with a joy naught else in the world can give
■ which, far more eloquently than speech, testi- 1 the .soul rates that Beauty above all other
. and finds in It the completion of all its de- It is the jubilant worship of the whole heart, Md Roul, the worship "in spirit and in truth" of
- i' a<lorers", such as the Father seeks to adore
I hii, iv, 2.3).
iitemplative life, however, is not meant a life
ntirely in contemplation. On earth .an act of I'lation cannot be of long duration, except in ■ of an extraordinary privilege granted by
■ power. The weakness of our bodily senses
and the natural instability of our minds and hearts,
together with the exigencies of life, render it impossi-
ble for us to fix our attention for long on one object.
Tliis is true with regard to earthly or material things;
it is still more true in matters pertaining to the super-
natural order. Only in Heaven shall the understand-
ing be strengthened so as to waver no more, but adhere
unceasingly to Him Who made it.
Hence it is rare to find souls capable of leading a life of conteinjjlation without occasionally engaging their mental or physical activity in earthy or material things. The combination, however, of the two lives, of which Catholic hagiology affords such striking and glorious examples, is, as a general rule and for persons of ordinary attainments, a matter of consideralile dif- ficulty. Exterior action, with the solicitude and cares attendant on it, tends naturally to absorb the attention; the soul is thereby hampered in its efforts to ascend to the higher regions of contemplation, as its energy, capacity, and power of application are usually too limited to allow it to carry on together such difTcr- ent pursuits with success. If this is true with regard to those even who are working for God and are en- gaged in enterprises undertaken for the furtherance of His interests, it is all the more true of those who are toiling with no other direct end than to procure their subsistence and their temporal well-being. This is why those who have wished to give themselves \\\> to contemplation and reach an eminent degree of mysti- cal union with God have habitually withdrawn from the crowd and have abandoned all other pursuits, to lead a retired life entirely consecrated to the purpose of contemplation. It is evident that such a life can be led nowhere so safely and so easily as in those monas- tic orders which make it their special object. The rules of those orders supply their members with every means necessary and useful for the purpose, and safe- guard them from all exterior obstacles. Foremost among these means must be reckoned the vows, which are barriers raised against the inroads of the three great evils devastating the w'orld (I John, ii. 16). Poverty frees the contemplative from the cares inher- ent to the possession and administration of tem]>oral goods, from the moral dangcr.s that follow in the wake of wealth, and from that insatiable greed for gain which so lowers and materializes the mind. Chastity frees him from the bondage of married life with its solicitude so "dividing" to the heart, and mind, to use the Apostle's expression (I Cor., vii, 33), and so apt to confine man's sympathy and action within a narrow circle. By the same virtue also he obtains that clean- ness of heart which enabk's him to see God (Matth., v, 8). Obedience, without which community-life is im- possible, frees him from the anxiety of having to de- tennine what course to take amidst the ever-.shifting circumstances of life. The stability which the vow gives to the contemplative's purpose by placing him in a fixed state with set duties and obligations is also an inestimable atlvantage, as it saves him from natural inconstancy, the blight of so many undertakings.
Silence is of course the proper element of the con- templative soul, since to converse with God and men at the same time is hardly possible. Moreover, con- versing unnecessarily is apt to give rise to numlierless thoughts, fancies, and desires alien to the duties and purpose of contemplative life, which .assail the soul at the hour of prayer and distract it from CJod. It is no wonder, then, that monastic legislators and guardians of regular discipline should have always laid such stress on the practice of silence, strenuously enforcing its observance and punishing transgression with spe- cial severity. This silence, if not perpetual, must em- brace at least the greatest part of the contemplati\e's life. Solitude is the home of silence, and its surest safeguard. Moreover, it cuts to the root one of the strongest of man's .selfish propensities, the <!esire to make a figure before the world, to win admiration and
