Dear Roark,
St. Thomas More and I pray with you:
Give me the grace, good Lord, to set the world at naught. To set the mind firmly on You and not to hang upon the words of men’s mouths. To be content to be solitary. Not to long for worldly pleasures. Little by little to utterly cast off the world and rid my mind of all its business. Not to long to hear of earthly things, but that the hearing of worldly fancies may be displeasing to me. Gladly to be thinking of God, and piteously to call for His help. To lean into the comfort God. Busily to labor to love Him. To know my own vileness and wretchedness. To humble myself under the mighty hand of God. To bewail my sins, and, for the purging of them, patiently to suffer adversity. Gladly to bear my purgatory here. To be joyful in tribulation. To walk the narrow way that leads to life. To have the last thing for remembrance. To have ever before my eyes my death that is ever at hand. To make death no stranger to me. To foresee and consider the everlasting fire of Hell. To pray for pardon before the Judge comes. To have continually in mind the passion that Christ suffered for me. For His benefits unceasingly to give Him thanks. To buy the time again that I have lost. To abstain from vain conversations. To shun foolish mirth and gladness. To cut off unnecessary recreations of worldly substance, friends, liberty, life and all, to set the loss at naught, tor the winning of Christ. To think my worst enemies my best friends, for the brethren of Joseph could never have done him so much good with their love and favor as they did with their malice and hatred. These minds are more to be desired of every man than all the treasures of all the princes and kings, Christian and heathen, were it gathered together and laid in one heap. AMEN.
