Preface.

sons of God, they are daughters of men, with whom they would only too gladly like to see the fatherly title fulfilled, if only the monastery gate did not prevent it. For in such minds, no single base text from the divine scripture can take hold more than that which the good Apostle Paul wrote to his Corinthians in the 2nd Epistle, chapter 12: "There was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted." My God, how many can be found spiritual from such flesh (where there is daily abundance in food and drink, where the single proverb must also serve: Si non caste, saltem caute If not chaste, then at least cautious), who do not have such daily attacks from this messenger of Satan to expect, and must engage in battle with him? How many blows to the cheek must many endure, so that they feel the toothaches down to the deepest kidneys, and would rather surrender than engage further in such discord, as they recognize their enemy to be all too strong against them?

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