"There are many virtues which cannot be practised in solitude; above all, mercy, upon the exercise of which we shall be questioned and judged at the last day; and of which it is said: _Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy_."[3] [Footnote 1: Osee ii. 14.] [Footnote 2: Eccle. iv. 10.] [Footnote 3: Matt. v. 7.] UPON VANITY. It is a vanity of the understanding to think ourselves more than we really are; but it is a far more dangerous vanity of the will to aspire to a condition higher than our own, and to persuade ourselves that we are deserving of it. He who thinks himself to be more than he is has in his mind some picture of content and satisfaction, and consequently some sort of tranquillity like one who finds his peace and repose in his riches. But he who aspires to a condition more exalted than his own is in a constant state of disquietude, like the needle of the compass which trembles incessantly until it points to the north. An ancient proverb makes the happiness of this life to consist in wishing to be what we are and nothing more. _Quod sis esse velis, nihilque malis._ Blessed Francis who, in his own opinion, had already risen too high in the hierarchy of the Church, turned his thoughts rather to giving up his dignities than to seeking promotion. He looked forward to the calm retreat of solitude rather than the dignity of illustrious offices. He was even apprehensive of the high esteem in which he knew that he was held, dreading lest he should be less the servant of God for thus delighting men. On one occasion some worthy soul having warned him to keep humble amid the praises and acclamations bestowed on him, he answered: "You please me greatly by recommending holy humility to me, for, do you know, when the wind gets imprisoned in our valleys, among our mountains, even the little flowers are beaten down and the trees are uprooted. I am situated rather high up and, in my post of Bishop, am tossed about most of all. O Lord! save us: command these winds of vanity to cease to blow and there will be a great calm. Stand firm, O my soul, and clasp very tightly the foot of our Saviour's holy Cross: the rain which falls there in plenteous showers on all sides stills the wind, however violent it may be. "When I am there, O my God, as I sometimes am, how sheltered is my soul, and how refreshed by that crimson dew! but no sooner have I moved a single step away than the wind again takes me off my feet!" UPON THE KNOWLEDGE WHICH PUFFS UP.