It is also certain that while the methods of monasticism, judged by their effects upon the individual and upon society, may be justly censured, it is beyond question that many monks, groping their way toward the light in an age of ignorance and superstition, were inspired by the purest motives.  “Conscience,” observes Waddington, “however misguided, cannot be despised by a reflecting mind.  When it leads one to self-sacrifice and moral fortitude we cannot but admire his spirit, while we condemn his sagacity and method.”

The Effects of Self-Sacrifice Upon the Individual

Christianity requires some sort of self-denial as the condition of true Christian discipleship.  Self-love is to yield to a love of others.  In some sense, the Christian is to become dead to the world and its demoralizing pleasures.  But this primal demand upon the soul needs to be interpreted.  What is it to love the world?  What is it to keep the body in subjection?  What are harmful indulgences?  To give wrong answers to these questions is to set up a false ideal; the more strenuously such false ideal is followed, the more disastrous are the consequences.  One’s struggle for moral purity may end in failure, and one’s efficiency for good may be seriously impaired by a perversion of the principle of self-abnegation.  Unnatural severity and excessive abstinence often produce the opposite effect from that intended.  Instead of a peaceful mind there is delirium, and instead of freedom from temptation there are a thousand horrible fiends hovering in the air and ready, at any moment, to pounce upon their prey.  “The history of ascetics,” says Martensen, “teaches us that by such overdone fasting the fancy is often excited to an amazing degree, and in its airy domain affords the very things that one thought to have buried, by means of mortification, a magical resurrection.”  In attempting to subdue the body, many necessary requirements of the physical organism were totally ignored.  The body rebelled against such unnatural treatment, and the mind, so closely related to it, in its distraction, gave birth to the wildest fancies.  Men, who would have possessed an ordinarily pure mind in some useful occupation of life, became the prey of the most lewd and obnoxious imaginations.  Then they fancied themselves vile above their fellows, and laid on more stripes, put more thorns upon their pillows, and fasted more hours, only to find that instead of fleeing, the devils became blacker and more numerous.

Self-forgetfulness is the key to happiness.  The monk thought otherwise, and slew himself in his vain attempt to fight against nature.  He never lifted his eyes from his own soul.  He was always feeling his spiritual pulse, staring at his lean spiritual visage, and tearfully watching his growth in grace.  An interest in others and a strong mind in a strong body are the best antidotes to religious despair and the temptations of the soul.  Life in the monastery was generally less severe than in the desert’s solitude.  There was more and better food, shelter, and comfort, but there were many unnecessary and unnatural restrictions, even in the best days of monasticism.  There were too many hours of prayer, too many needless regulations for silence, fasting and penance, to produce a healthy, vigorous type of religious life.