A Pope Laments His State

Quadam die nimiis quorumdam saecularium tumultibus depressus, quibus in suis negotiis plerumque cogimur solvere etiam quod nos certum est non debere, secretum locum petii amicum moeroris, ubi omne quod de mea mihi occupatione displicebat, se patenter ostenderet, et cuncta quae infligere dolorem consueverant, congesta ante oculos licenter venirent. Ibi itaque cum afflictus valde et diu tacitus sederem, dilectissimus filius meus Petrus diaconus adfuit, mihi a primaevo juventutis flore amicitiis familiariter obstrictus, atque ad sacri verbi indagationem socius. Qui gravi excoqui cordis languore me intuens, ait: Nunquidnam novi tibi aliquid accidit, quod plus te solito moeror tenet? Cui, inquam: Moeror, Petre, quem quotidie patior, et semper mihi per usum vetus est, et semper per augmentum novus. Infelix quippe animus meus occupationis suae pulsatus vulnere, meminit qualis aliquando in monasterio fuit; quomodo ei labentia cuncta subter erant; quantum rebus omnibus quae volvuntur eminebat; quod nulla nisi coelestia cogitare consueverat; quod etiam retentus corpore, ipsa jam carnis claustra contemplatione transibat; quod mortem quoque, quae pene cunctis poena est, videlicet ut ingressum vitae et laboris sui praemium amabat At nunc ex occasione curae pastoralis saecularium hominum negotia patitur, et post tam pulchram quietis suae speciem, terreni actus pulvere foedatur. Cumque se pro condescensione multorum ad exteriora sparserit, etiam cum interiora appetit, ad haec procul dubio minor redit. Perpendo itaque quid tolero, perpendo quod amisi. Dumque intueor illud quod perdidi, fit hoc gravius quod porto. Ecce etenim nunc magni maris fluctibus quatior, atque in navi mentis tempestatis validae procellis illidor. Et cum prioris vitae recolo, quasi post tergum ductis oculis viso littore suspiro. Quodque adhuc gravius est, dum immensis fluctibus turbatus feror, vix jam portum videre valeo quem reliqui, quia et ita sunt casus mentis, ut prius quidem perdat bonum quod tenet, si tamen se perdidisse meminerit; cumque longius recesserit, etiam boni ipsius quod perdiderat obliviscatur; fitque ut post neque per memoriam videat, quod prius per actionem tenebat. Unde hoc agitur quod praemisi, quia cum navigamus longius, jam nec portum quietis quem reliquimus videmus. Nonnunquam vero in augmentum mei doloris adjungitur, quod quorumdam vita qui praesens saeculum tota mente reliquerunt, mihi ad memoriam revocatur. Quorum dum culmen aspicio, quantum ipse in infirmis jaceam agnosco; quorum plurimi Conditori suo in secretiori vita placuerunt, qui ne per humanos actus a novitate mentis veterascerent, eos omnipotens Deus hujus mundi laboribus noluit occupari Sanctus Gregorius Magnus, Dialogi, Liber I

One day being excessively wearied with the troubles of worldly affairs in which business we are often bound far more than we should be, I sought a secluded place fit for lamentation, where every one of my occupations that displeased me might openly show itself, and that all things that are accustomed to inflict sorrow might be gathered together and present before my eyes. And thus having sat there gravely afflicted for a long while, Peter, my dearest son and deacon, came, a man whom, from his younger years, I bound closely to me in friendship, and as a companion in the investigation of Sacred Scripture. He, marking me beset by weakness of heart, said, 'Have some tidings come to you that cause you to grieve more than you are accustomed? ' To which I said, 'O Peter, the grief which I suffer every day is ever old through use and ever new by daily increasing. For my unhappy soul, belaboured with worldly business, reminds me of how it was when I was in the monastery, and how then all fallen things were beneath it, as much as it stood above all transitory things, and that it thought on nothing but heavenly things, and though enclosed in a body in contemplation it passed beyond the enclosure of the flesh. And as for death, which almost to all is grief, that very same as an entrance into life and as a reward of its labours it loved. But now, on account of my pastoral cares, my soul suffers the affairs of worldly men, and after so beautiful a rest, it is defiled with the dust of worldly deeds. And when it does go forth at the demand of many others to exterior matters, its desire for interior things on its return has lessened. Thus I do consider what I suffer and consider what I have lost. And looking on what I have lost makes what I now bear more grievous. For behold now I am tossed by the waves of a great sea and the ship of my soul is struck by the storms of a terrible tempest. And so when I recall my former state of life, I sigh as if looking back on a forsaken shore. And what grieves me yet more is that while I am borne off by the great waves I can now scarce see the port I left, for such be the downfalls of our soul, that first it loses that goodness it had, yet remembering what it has lost, and then, carried away farther, it forgets the good it has lost and no longer holds in memory what it did do. And so it is, as I said, that sailing farther on, we no longer see the harbour of peace from whence we departed. Sometimes also increase is given to my sorrow by remembering the lives of certain folk who with their whole soul abandoned the present world, whose eminence beholding, I also recognise my own infirmities and falls, many of whom did in a retired life please their Creator, who lest by the business of men they wear out their souls, the almighty God was unwilling they be occupied with the labours of this world. Saint Gregory the Great, Dialogues, Book 1