



Produced by Michael Gray, Diocese of San Jose








HAPPINESS IN PURGATORY.

  Published April, 1897,

   in

   THE CATHOLIC WORLD

   A Monthly Magazine of General Literature and Science



HAPPINESS IN PURGATORY.

IT may be said of Purgatory that if it did not exist it would have to be
created, so eminently is it in accord with the dictates of reason and
common sense. The natural instinct of travellers at their journey's end
is to seek for rest and change of attire. Some are begrimed with mud,
others have caught the dust of a scorching summer day; the heat or cold
or damp of the journey has told upon them and their attire. Perhaps,
even, the way has made them weary unto sickness, and they crave for an
interval of absolute repose.

Travellers from earth, covered with the mud and dust of its long road,
could never wish to enter the banquet-room of eternity in their
travel-stained garments. "Take me away!" cried Gerontius to his angel.
It was a cry of anguish as well as desire, for Gerontius, blessed soul
though he is, could not face heaven just as earth had left him. He has
the true instinct of the traveller at his journey's end. Dust, rust, and
the moth have marked their presence, and even the oddities and
eccentricities of earthly pilgrimage must be obliterated before the home
of eternity can be entered. _De mortuis nil nisi bonum_ is interpreted,
nothing short of heaven for those who have crossed the bourne. But, if
the heavenly gates are thrown open to the travellers all weary and
footsore, "not having on a nuptial garment," no heterogeneous meeting
here on earth could compete with the gathering of disembodied spirits
from its four quarters. It is human ignorance alone which canonizes all
the departed, and insists on a direct passage from time to heaven. The
canonization is not ratified in heaven, because heaven would not exist
if it took place. The Beatific Vision is incompatible with the shadow of
imperfection. To act as if it were belongs to the same order of things
as rending the garment of Christian unity.

Purgatory makes heaven, in the sense that heaven would not be possible
for men without it. As well might we try to reach a far-off planet,
which is absolutely removed from our sphere, an unknown quantity, though
a fact science does not dispute. Heaven without Purgatory is a far-off
planet which must ever remain beyond our touch and ken, for it would be
easier that we in our present condition should traverse space than that
the sinner should see God face to face.

The vestibule of heaven, in which souls tarry in order to make their
preparations, and to be prepared for the feast of eternity, can scarcely
be an abode of pure suffering. Heart and mind, as they exist in the
_anima separata_--that is, understanding and love--are at rest. On earth
mind and heart are the source of the greatest pain as well as the
greatest joy. The severest pain of body may be accompanied by happiness
and a mind at rest, whereas remorse makes life unbearable. Hidden
criminals at large have not unfrequently given themselves up to justice
in order to arrive at peace by a public execution, that being the
penalty demanded by their tortured conscience. Death, however
ignominious, rather than remorse--the backbite of inwit, in the quaint
language of our forefathers. Remorse is not in the organs of sense, but
a purely intellectual operation, proper to man. It cannot be softened by
worldly prosperity or riches, fame or success. On the other hand, a good
conscience is a well-spring of happiness, be the outward circumstances
of a man's life what they may. Bodily pain would add to the torture of
remorse, just as it might deaden the joy of a good conscience, _per
accidens_, as theologians say. Conjointly with the mind, the heart
causes the keenest sufferings and the deepest joys of human life, joys
and sufferings which are acted upon in the same way indirectly by pain
of body. A severe toothache, for instance, quickens the pangs of
remorse, whilst it deadens joy proceeding either from the intellect or
the heart. It would madden a bride on her wedding morning, without in
reality affecting her happiness. The root of both joy and grief is in
the soul, not in the body. Conscience is the "worm which never
dieth"--that is, hell, the torment created by man himself for his own
punishment. The same applies to Purgatory, as far as conscience has been
sinned against. The soul has created its own torment, but in Purgatory
the fires die out because