hundredfold and life everlasting.”

As a matter of fact, this form of profession was quite adequate. Implicitly it contained the vow of chastity, since chastity is an integral part of the Canonical Rule. However, the Prior of St. Victor resided in Paris, the metropolis of scholasticism, and he strenuously argued and maintained that, whereas chastity is one of the three essential vows of Religion, and the formula made no mention thereof, the said formula was incomplete, erroneous, contrary to the decretals and canonical sanctions. And again he urges the Provost and the Brethren to conform themselves in this, as in all else, to some fully authorised branch of the institute of the Canons Regular.

Once more the good men humbly acquiesced; and it seems that they modelled their religious family upon the famous Congregation of St. Victor, of which their zealous counsellor was then the chief Superior.

VI
Prior of Groenendael

Meanwhile the Community of Groenendael grew and flourished. The holy Prior continued to make progress in the practice of heroic virtue, his gifts of contemplation became ever more sublime, and still his reputation for sanctity increased. His contemporary biographers, after the fashion of their day, catalogue the Christian virtues, and one by one show how they excelled in him. Let it suffice here to remark that those virtues which he the most earnestly commends and the most highly exalts in his writings, he the most constantly exercised in his own person. Chief of these was humility, which he terms everywhere the foundation of perfection; then obedience to men and resignation to the will of God, a most tender devotion towards Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar, and, in fine, an ardent love of God and the neighbour. A few instances may be given in illustration.

On one occasion Blessed John was seriously ill; consumed by fever and tortured by an intense thirst, he begged the Brother Infirmarian for a drink of water. The Provost, who happened to be present, forbade the draught, fearing it might do him harm. He was literally dying of thirst, and his lips were cracking, they were so parched, yet Ruysbroeck humbly acquiesced. But later, reflecting how great would be the grief and remorse of his friend and superior if he actually died of his agony, he quietly remarked: “Father Provost, if I have not a drink of water now I shall certainly not recover from this malady.” Thereupon, in great alarm, Dom Francis immediately bade him drink. And from that moment the holy man began to regain his strength.

Another and a continual proof of his humility was the willingness with which he took part in the heavy manual labour of the Community. His dignity, his advanced age, his inexperience in such work, the many other calls upon his time and strength—all this and the like the brethren urged as motives wherefore he should be exempt; but he refused to listen. Truth to tell, the material advantage from his toil was but little: his frame was enfeebled by years and austerities, and in his ignorance he was liable, for instance, to root up seedlings in the garden instead of weeds! But the spiritual gain to the Brethren was incalculable; there was not only the example of his humility, but of his unfailing recollection too. In the midst of his labour he never lost his sense of the nearness of God’s presence. Indeed he was wont to say that it was easier for him to raise his soul to God than to lift his hand to his forehead.

His humility also and his zeal for the regular observance prevented him ever seeking dispensation from the customary exercises of the community life, or exemption from any of the monastic austerities, vigils, or fasts.

His love for the neighbour was shown by the readiness and affability with which he received and welcomed innumerable claimants on his sympathy, help, and counsel. No soul ever left his presence dissatisfied; every one went back from a visit to Groenendael greatly edified and inwardly refreshed. On one occasion the Brethren were distressed for the moment by an apparent exception. Two Parisian clerics had visited the holy old man and had demanded some word or motto for their guidance and encouragement.

Ruysbroeck merely observed: “You are as holy as you wish to be.” Suspecting him of sarcasm, the strangers retired deeply mortified, and they complained to the Canons that they were much disappointed in the Prior, who evidently was not so saintly a man as rumour had led them to believe. Learning the cause of their chagrin, some of the Brethren led the clerics back to Blessed John and begged him to explain his meaning. “But is it not simple?” he cried. “Is it not quite true? You are as holy as you wish. Your good-will is the measure of your sanctity. Look into yourselves and see what good-will you have, and you will behold also the standard of your holiness.” And then the visitors retired appeased and edified.

Naturally his own Brethren were the first and chief to benefit by the holy Prior’s charity and zeal. He denied himself to none; he made himself all to all. Sometimes he gave a spiritual conference after Compline, and then perhaps he would be so carried away as he enlarged upon the goodness of God and the bliss of heaven, for instance, that neither he nor his listeners would note the passage of time. The midnight Office bell would surprise them still hanging upon his words. But such was the fervour infused by his burning eloquence that not one felt the loss of the three or four hours’ accustomed sleep.

Ruysbroeck always spoke without any immediate preparation; but it was characteristic of the man that when requested by the Canons or by strangers for a Conference, he would sometimes confess in all simplicity that inspiration was lacking, that he had nothing to say. It was the same with his written treatises: at the close of his life he was able to declare that he had never committed anything to writing save under the immediate motion of the Holy Spirit.

As so often happens with the Saints, Blessed John’s love for the neighbour overflowed in tenderness for his brothers and sisters of the lower creation also. Knowing this trait, the Canons would remark to him on the approach of winter: “See, Father Prior, it is snowing already. What will the poor little birds do now?” And with expressions of heartfelt compassion this sublime mystic, who was habitually lost in dizziest heights of contemplation, would give instructions that the feathered choristers outside the cloister should not be abandoned to perish of hunger.

Very frequently in his works Blessed Ruysbroeck takes occasion to treat of the Holy Sacrament of the Altar, and ever he speaks of this sacred mystery in terms of the most vivid faith and intense devotion, discussing it as a supreme proof of God’s love for men, on a par with the gifts of Creation, the Incarnation, and Redemption. His biographers tell us of his personal love for the Blessed Eucharist, and especially of his ecstatic devotion in offering the great Sacrifice. To the close of his long life, even when his failing sight could no longer distinguish the figure of the Crucified stamped upon the Host, nothing but grave sickness could hold him back from daily celebration. Sometimes he swooned from the excess of the sweetness with which his soul was inundated during the canon of the Mass.

On one such occasion not only did he faint, but he seemed on the point of expiring, so that the terrified server reported the