Petry, R.C - Late Medieval Mysticism PDF

Late Medieval Mysticism
General Editors
John Baillie (1886-1960) served as President of the World

Council of Churches, a member of the British Council of
Churches, Moderator of the General Assembly of the
Church of Scotland, and Dean of the Faculty of Divinity at
the University of Edinburgh.
John T. McNeill (1885-1975) was Professor of the History of

European Christianity at the University of Chicago and then
Auburn Professor of Church History at Union Theological
Seminary in New York.
Henry P. Van Dusen (1897-1975) was an early and influen-

tial member of the World Council of Churches and served
at Union Theological Seminary in New York as Roosevelt
Professor of Systematic Theology and later as President.
THE LIBRARY OF CHRISTIAN CLASSICS
Late Medieval Mysticism
Edited by
RAY C. P E T R Y
PhD, LLD
© 1957 The Westminster Press
Paperback reissued 2006 by Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville,

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GENERAL EDITORS' PREFACE
The Christian Church possesses in its literature an abundant

and incomparable treasure. But it is an inheritance that
must be reclaimed by each generation. THE LIBRARY OF
CHRISTIAN CLASSICS is designed to present in the English
language, and in twenty-six volumes of convenient size, a
selection of the most indispensable Christian treatises written
prior to the end of the sixteenth century.
The practice of giving circulation to writings selected for
superior worth or special interest was adopted at the beginning
of Christian history. The canonical Scriptures were themselves
a selection from a much wider literature. In the Patristic
era there began to appear a class of works of compilation (often
designed for ready reference in controversy) of the opinions
of well-reputed predecessors, and in the Middle Ages many
such works were produced. These medieval anthologies actually
preserve some noteworthy materials from works otherwise lost.
In modern times, with the increasing inability even of those
trained in universities and theological colleges to read Latin
and Greek texts with ease and familiarity, the translation of
selected portions of earlier Christian literature into modern
languages has become more necessary than ever; while the
wide range of distinguished books written in vernaculars such
as English makes selection there also needful. The efforts that
have been made to meet this need are too numerous to be noted
here, but none of these collections serves the purpose of the
reader who desires a library of representative treatises spanning
the Christian centuries as a whole. Most of them embrace
only the age of the Church Fathers, and some of them have
long been out of print. A fresh translation of a work already
9
IO GENERAL EDITORS PREFACE
translated may shed much new light upon its meaning. This
is true even of Bible translations despite the work of many
experts through the centuries. In some instances old translations
have been adopted in this series, but wherever necessary or
desirable, new ones have been made. Notes have been supplied
where these were needed to explain the author's meaning. The
introductions provided for the several treatises and extracts
will, we believe, furnish welcome guidance.
JOHN BAILLIE
JOHN T. MGNEILL
HENRY P. VAN DUSEH
CONTENTS
page
Preface . . . . . . . . . 15
General Introduction . . . . . . 17
I. B E R N A R D O F C L A I R V A U X (1090-1153)
Introduction . . . . . . 47
O n the Love ofG o d . . . . . 54
O f t h e T h r e e W a y s i n W h i c h W eL o v e G o d . 66
T h a t t h eSoul, S e e k i n g G o d ,I s A n t i c i p a t e d b y
Him . . . . . . . 74
II. T H E V I C T O R I N E S
HUGH (C. 1096-1141):
The Realm and the Role of Light . . 86
The Grades of Knowledge . . . 90
Love the Cure of the Soul's Sickness . . 92
God's Dwelling in the Soul Through Knowl-
edge and Love . . . . . 93
The Soul's Deepest Desire . . . . 94
RICHARD (C. 1123-1173):
The Way to Contemplation . . . 96
ADAM (d. 1192):
Gospel Symbols and the Mystic Goal . . 113
I I I . F R A N C I S O F ASSISI (1182-1226)
Introduction . . . . . . 1 16
Exposition of the Lord's Prayer . . . 1 20
Praises of the Virtues . . . . . 1 22
T h e Canticle of Brother Sun . . . 1 24
12 CONTENTS
page
IV. B O N A V E N T U R E (1221-1274)
Introduction . . . . . .126
The Journey of the Mind to God . . .132
V. R A M O N L U L L (c. 1232-1315)
Introduction 142
The Blanquerna:
The Lullian Ideal . . . . 149
Of the Book of the Lover and the Beloved . 157
The Art of Contemplation . . . . 164
V I . M E I S T E R E C K H A R T (c. 1260-1328)
Sermon on the Eternal Birth . . 177
Another Sermon on the Eternal Birth . . 186
A Sermon on the Contemplative and the Active
Life . . . . . . . 193
O n Solitude and the Attainment of God . 200
About the Body of O u r Lord . . . 203
Love Cannot Be Lazy . . . . . 207
VII. RICHARD ROLLE: HERMIT OF HAMPOLE

(c. 1300-1349)
T h e Mending of Life . . . . .214
V I I I . H E N R Y SUSO (c. 1295-1366)

T h e Little Book of Eternal Wisdom . . 252
The Life of the Servant:
The Higher School of Gelassenheit . . 259
T h e Way of Suffering and of the Cross . 261
I X . C A T H E R I N E O F SIENA (1347-1380)
A Treatise of Divine Providence . . .270
X . J A N VAN R U Y S B R O E C K (1293-1381)
The Sparkling Stone 292
CONTENTS 13
page
XL GERMAN THEOLOGY (THEOLOGIA GER-
MANICA) [LATE F O U R T E E N T H C E N -
TURY]
Introduction . . . . . 321
German Theology . . . . - 3 2 7
X I I . N I C H O L A S O F C U S A (1401-1464)
O n Learned Ignorance . . . . 360
T h e Vision of G o d 367
A Sermon o n t h eEucharist . . . . 385
" W h e r e Is H eW h o Is Born K i n g ofthe J e w s ? " 389
X I I I . C A T H E R I N E O F G E N O A (1447-1510)
Treatise o n Purgatory . . . . . 399
INDEXES 415
PREFACE
This volume presents a collection of sources marking the cul-
mination of mystical thought within medieval Christianity.
These works are supplied from already existing, reputable trans-
lations appropriately acknowledged throughout the book. The
chief editorial objective has been a distinctive resetting, in
clarified historical perspective, of the richly varied, but closely
related, texts of late medieval mysticism. The volume editor
has attempted a fresh orientation of representative sources with
regard to each other and to the long ages of the mystical tradi-
tion that preceded them. An extensive general introduction has
been followed by brief biographical data, crisp annotations of
source-secondary literature, and terse summations of the more
characteristic thought prefatory to the writings of each mystic.
Biblical translations are integrated in each case with the entire
source text. Though free of copyright restrictionsa they are not
reducible to the usage of one or even a few versions. In the more
crucial notes, there are references to both the Vulgate and
Protestant numberings when these are divergent.
I am deeply indebted to the General Editors for encourage-
ment and assistance, as I am also to the Duke University Re-
search Council for grants-in-aid making possible European and
domestic researches. The examination of manuscripts and
printed texts most essential for editing each of the mystical writ-
ings was facilitated by especially gracious and extended help
from the authorities of the Bibliotheque Nationale in Paris, the
Vatican Library in Rome, and the British Museum in London.
Help was likewise freely given by the Biblioteca Communale of
Siena, the Bibliotheque Royale of Brussels, and the university
libraries of Florence, Heidelberg, Louvain, Oxford, and Cam-
15
l6 PREFACE
bridge. Prof. Dr. L. Reypens, S.J., and his associates of the
Ruusbroec-Bibliotheek in Antwerp showed me unrepayable
kindnesses. I acknowledge a rapidly accruing debt of gratitude
to the Duke University libraries, especially to Mr. Donn Michael
Farris, Librarian of the Divinity School, and to Miss Doralyn
Hickey. I wish also to recognize Mr. Robert Beach and his
associates of the Union Theological Seminary library, as well as
the assistance of the Columbia University libraries. My thanks
go to Mrs. Donald Roettger and Mrs. Louis Hodges for patient
and efficient stenographic services. My wife has given me un-
stinting help for which I can say no sufficient word of thanks.
RAY G. PETRY
Duke University Divinity School
General Introduction
THE PROVINCE AND CHARACTER OF
MYSTICISM
T
HE TERM "MYSTICISM" HAS LENT ITSELF HISTORI-
cally to an accumulation of highly divergent usages. This
confusing multiplicity of meanings has almost blotted out
any clear, authoritative connotation, for our age, of expressions
like "mystic" and "mystical." Such terms have, at their root, a
reminder of undoubted association with the early Greek mys-
teries and their initiatory rites. The unknown Eastern writer of
about A.D. 500 now customarily referred to as Pseudo-Dionysius
the Areopagite utilized the title Mystical Theology for one of his
most influential books. The terminology normally employed in
the Latin church, however, was not "mysticism" but "con-
templation." l Historical surveys of mystical experience in the
period leading up to, and through, the era of this anthology fre-
quently employ a variety of entries under such captions as "con-
templation" and "the contemplative life." This is true of the
Dictionnaire de spirituality upon which the present volume draws
so heavily.2 The connotations of such terms have a precision
throughout the Middle Ages that is now largely buried under
a welter of modern ramifications.
Some of the varied attempts to locate the core of mystical or
contemplative experience have been itemized by W. R. Inge. 3
These tend to focus, as do the interpretative analyses of A. B.
1 Dom Cuthbert Butler, Western Mysticism, 2d ed., E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc.,
London, 1926, p. 4.
2 Ed. by M. Viller et al.> Vol. 2, Paris, 1953. See cols. 1643-2193 for the
article "Contemplation." Abbreviated hereafter as DS II, 1643-2193, etc.
3 Originally in his Christian Mysticism, London, 1899, 6th ed., 1925, ch. 1 and
pp. 335-48, and later in his Mysticism in Religion, University of Chicago
Press, 1948, pp. 25-29.
2 L.M.M. 17
l8 LATE MEDIEVAL MYSTICISM
Sharpe, Evelyn Underhill, Rufus Jones, and others, the con-
templative's supreme claim, rather than isolated definitions of
mysticism.4 Dom Cuthbert Butler finds this mystic thesis sig-
nificantly stated for succeeding generations of contemplatives in
Augustine's words: "My mind in the flash of a trembling glance
came to Absolute Being—That Which Is." 5 Put over against the
modern assessments of mysticism, this admirably prefigures the
delimiting usages of Sharpe, Underhill, and Jones—not to men-
tion a considerable body of definitions assembled by Dr. Inge.
Sharpe's emphasis falls upon the soul's direct contact, in full
awareness, and with an objectively intellectual intuition, of
"transcendental reality." This, as Butler observes, accords sig-
nificantly with Underbill's "conscious relation with the Abso-
lute" and Jones's stress upon "the soul's possible union in this
life with Absolute Reality." Dr. Jones, in another significant
directive on the type of religion connoted by mysticism, stresses
"immediate awareness" in the relationship with God and "direct
. . . intimate consciousness of the divine Presence." 6 Margaret
Smith considers the mystic's goal to be the setting up of "a con-
scious relation with the Absolute" wherein is found "the per-
sonal object of love." 7
Such considerations of the nature and meaning of mysticism,
as of the "mystical doctrine, or teaching on contemplation,"
lead naturally into analyses, like those by Underhill, of mys-
ticism's distinctive characteristics. In the early chapters of her
greatest work she discusses mysticism's eminently "active and
practical" qualities; its "wholly transcendental and spiritual"
aims; its accent on the reality of the One as "being a living and
personal object of love"; its living union with this One; and its
inescapable corollary of self-surrender.8 This call to renuncia-
tion echoes throughout the centuries of contemplation, even as
it receives emphasis today by students of mysticism as diversified
4 Butler, op. cit., p. 4, makes especial use of statements from A. B. Sharpe,

Mysticism, Its True Nature and Value, London, 1910, pp. 74, 96; E. Under-
hill, Mysticism, p. 97 (cf. the 12th ed., Dutton, 1930, p. 72); and R.Jones
in James Hastings, Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics, Vol. 9, pp. 83 ff. See
also almost any of his fifty-odd books on mysticism, especially his Studies in
Mystical Religion, London, 1909.
5 Confessions, VII, xvii, 23; also Butler, op. cit., pp. 4, 31-32.
6 Butler, op. cit., pp. 4-6 and notes; Jones, Studies, p. xv.
7 Studies in Early Mysticism in the Near and Middle East, The Sheldon Press,
London, 1931, p. 3; An Introduction to the History of Mysticism, S.P.C.K.,
London, 1930, p. 3.
8 Mysticism, pp. 70-94.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION ig
in view as Margaret Smith and Joseph Mar£chal. In the Latin

and Eastern Christian tradition of the contemplative pilgrim-
age, as in many distinctively Oriental faiths, renunciation does
hold the key to the mystic way. To be sure, there are overtones
of positive life affirmation for the Christian fellowship not con-
noted for at least some non-Christian associations.
Father MarechaPs psychological analysis of the renunciation
of the " I " has reverberations throughout this anthology.9 So,
likewise, has the insistence of Margaret Smith that mysticism's
passion for direct association of the soul with God was fostered
through ascetic regularity and monastic discipline. Implicit in
this were the self-conquest and renunciatory devotion that lead
most directly to the mystic vision. Her contention that mystics
were, quite understandably, to be found, therefore, "among the
ascetics and in the monasteries" is a commonplace as easily
documented as it is frequently ignored.10
The ascetic workshop throughout our period of late medieval
mysticism is, more often than not, the atelier of the regulars—
the monastic laboratory in which asceticism is ordered to the
purpose of self-renunciation. This end is the vision of God, that
is, communion with the Divine. For the end which renunciation
serves as a means is fellowship with Deity; and the means em-
ployed to that end are renunciatory dedications. These are not
spasmodic sentiments, but well-schooled, habitual exercises for
removing the self from the place of honor ascribable only to
God.
Oscar Hardman's analysis of the role of asceticism in volun-

tary renunciation mounts to the point of his quoting, not un-
sympathetically, a sentiment to which Dom Ursmer Berliere
could certainly have no objection, namely, that in every mystic
there is an ascetic, and that asceticism is, one might say, at the
very source of mysticism.11 If there is no justification for saying
that mystics cannot be produced outside monasticism, there is
even less reason for ignoring the obvious fact that most medieval
mystics were monastics. Dom Ursmer Berliere and others of his
order, together with non-Benedictines, demonstrate how con-
joined to mystic contemplation is regularized renunciation,
whether of Bernard and the Cistercians or of Francis and the
9 tttudes sur la psychologie des mystiques, Paris, 1938, Vol. I, pp. 192-95.
10
Early Mysticism, p. 47.
" The Ideals of Asceticism, London, 1924, pp. 114-15. Gf. Dom U. Berliere,
Uascfce bin&dictine des origines a lafindu xiie sikley Paris, 1927.
20 LATE MEDIEVAL MYSTICISM
Mendicants. If mysticism and monasticism are not as insepa-
rable as H. Leclercq makes asceticism and cenobitism, they are,
at least, practically mutualizing and reinforcing.12
The monastic life of the Middle Ages lent itself to the cultiva-
tion of a varied spirituality. F. Vernet and P. Pourrat would
scarcely attempt, any more than the collaborative histories of
spirituality, to identify the fruits of monasticism with contem-
plative fruition, alone. No more would they equate all the
clerical virtues with monastic disciplines and/or mystical ex-
periences. In the larger reaches of spirituality associated with
the late medieval period, there are certain spiritual norms,
however, that have significant bearing for contemplative lives.
Pourrat, in his over-all classification of monastic spirituality,
thinks in terms of the speculative, with emphasis on the reason
and on intellectual theories; of the affective or practical, with
the focus on the sentiment of the heart and on love as the way
of being, feeling, and knowing; and of the sometimes insepa-
rable combination of the affective and speculative, of sentiment
and reason. In so doing he is using terminology that is recur-
rently useful in interpreting the late medieval mystics.13
The Victorines were certainly more speculative, in last analy-
sis, than they were affective. Bernard was admittedly more
affective than speculative. The Franciscans had, in the person
of their founder, a true contemplative of severely limited, specu-
lative sympathies. In Bonaventure these speculative tendencies
were habitually joined to affective experiences as they were,
also, in Anselm of Canterbury, and in Ramon Lull. The Domin-
icans who produced such marked speculatives as Eckhart also
gave rise to a Suso and to a Catherine of Siena. In her, however,
speculative instincts are by no means lacking, even as Suso is a
troubadour of love almost as much as Ramon Lull or Richard
Rolle. The fact is that such apparently predominant specula-
tives as the secular Nicholas of Cusa are full, also, of affective
instincts; and the hermit affective, Rolle, has far more of the
speculative in him than at first meets the eye. Here, again, in
Cusa as in Rolle, reactions to the monastic institution conduced
to and threatened mystical insights beyond the mere exercise
of Cusa's secular priesthood and Rolle's criticism of the
regulars.
12 Dictionnaire d? archiologie chrttienne et de liturgie, Vol. 2, pt. 2 (Paris, 1907),
cols. 3048 ff.; Berliere, op. cit., pp. 100 ff., 219, 220 ff.
13 F. Vernet, La spirituality mtdidvale, Bloud and Gay, Paris, 1929; P. Pourrat,
Christian Spirituality, London, 1924, Vol. II, pp. v ff.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION 21
Perhaps of more working validity than the speculative-affec-
tive character is the applicability of the threefold way to the
mystic experience. Underbill's classic work, as indeed almost
every book on the contemplative life, is developed about the
triple mystic route of purgation, illumination, and union.14
This classification antedates Christian contemplation. It is often
suggested, and sometimes explicitly stated, in Platonic and Neo-
platonic thought. The Pseudo-Dionysius utilizes it throughout
his corpus.15 So, likewise, do a majority of the authors in our
book of contemplative readings. It is well to be forewarned,
however, that an infinite variety of gradations are interlocked
with such relatively simple classifications of the mystic ascent or
development. Ladders or scales, degrees, and the like do not,
however, denature, in the main, the hoary associations of the
triple life. Generally in relation to the triple way, though not
uniformly so, our authors treat a somewhat common body of
frequently recurring aspects. These are, among others, awaken-
ing or conversion; self-knowledge or purgation; illumination
with its attendant voices and visions; surrender and, on occa-
sion, the dark night; finally, union, that is, consummation, or
contemplation in its specialized sense. This last, carrying the
soul to the apogee of spiritual experience, is referable, also, in
terms of Underbill's organization, to that introversion which in-
volves recollection and quiet as the anteway to contemplation;
to introversion considered as contemplation, with its ecstasies,
raptures, and dark nights; and to the consummately unitive
life.16
The interpretation of mysticism has been facilitated by the
more specialized, psychological investigations of Marechal and
A. Saudreau.17 It has profited from the philosophical-theo-
logical bent of Dr. Inge, especially where applied to Plotinian
areas. The bearing of ascetic-monastic regularity for mystic
14 Mysticism, especially pt. II, pp. 167 ff.; Smith, History of Mysticism,
pp. 7 ff.; Early Mysticism, pp. 6 ff.
15 The recurrence of this triple approach in Plato, Philo, Plotinus is docu-
mented in DS II, 1719 ff., in Inge, Christian Mysticism, pp. 9 ff., in K. F.
Riedler, Das Buck vom vollkommenen Leben, Thalwil-Zurich, 1947, p. 166.
In Dionysius see, for example, Htir. eccL, ch. V, pt. I, sec. 3—M. de Gan-
dillac, CEuvres computes du Pseudo-Denys V Ariopagite, Aubier, Paris, 1943,
PP- 295-96; DS II, 1888 ff.; Hier ciL, ch. X, Gandillac, CEuvres,
pp. 221-23.
16 Mysticism, pt. II, chs. 6-10.
17 Les degris de la vie spirituelle, 6th ed., 2 vols., Paris, 1935; Vitat mystique . . .,
2d ed., Paris, 1921, etc.
spirituality has been admirably assessed by Pourrat and Ber-
liere. The translations and commentaries of Butler, as well as the
singular irenicity of Jones, have likewise advanced the necessary
reorientation and modification of thought concerning the role
of mysticism in the total Christian tradition.
At this juncture it should be recorded how nobly the Diction-
naire de spirituality La vie spirituelle, and the Dictionnaire de theo-
logie catholique, among numerous others, have served the cause of
interpreting specific mystical figures and of depicting large
movements and basic spiritual trends from a Catholic perspec-
tive. The article on "Contemplation" in the Dictionnaire de
spiritualite is particularly noteworthy.
To Dom Butler goes the credit for having set in clearer focus
the early and medieval Christian tradition as it strove to estab-
lish the balance between contemplation and action. With basic
orientation to Augustine, Gregory the Great, and Bernard of
Clairvaux, together with a rich assortment of other medieval
contemplatives, his book Western Mysticism translates in context
some classic primary sources.18 Making quite clear that the
mystic in general, and the monastic mystic in particular,
acknowledges no such activist preoccupation as our secularized
Western society now demands, Butler shows much more. He
clearly demonstrates that the mystics were generally better
actives, not in spite of, but because of, their prior dedication to
God in worship as the end of all life. One aspect of the present
anthology that speaks largely for itself is this peculiar equipoise
of medieval contemplation and action with its major response,
however admittedly a by-product, to human need in the name
of the Divine.
T H E S E T T I N G F O R LATE MEDIEVAL
MYSTICISM
It is completely infeasible here to summarize, however super-
ficially, the beginnings and early development of the contem-
plative tradition. One cannot so briefly assess non-Christian,
Hebrew, and early Christian thought on mysticism as it leads up
to the immediate province of this anthology. The undoubtedly
is The present editor's article "Social Responsibility and the Late Medieval
Mystics," Church History, Vol. 21, no. 1 (March, 1952), pp. 3-19, develops
this theme of balanced contemplation and action for most of the mystics
in the anthology with extended source references.
mystical portions of the Old and the New Testament, particular-
ly of the psalms, the Pauline letters, and the Johannine literature,
have been succinctly analyzed by Miss Margaret Smith in her
Introduction to the History of Mysticism, already noted. Detailed
analyses are available, for instance, in the Dictionnaire de
spirituality.
More immediately necessary for this volume, however, is a
short resume of the major influence on medieval mysticism
exerted by non-Christian Greek thinkers in relation to the early
Christian Fathers. Especially significant for late medieval mys-
ticism were the Platonic and Neoplatonic currents, particularly
the thought of the Pseudo-Dionysius, as well as the influence of
Augustine, John Cassian, and Gregory the Great. Also indis-
pensable is a brief recapitulation of the predominantly monastic
spirituality characteristic of the period extending from the sixth
to the twelfth century.
P L A T O (427-347 B.C.)
Plato, ever mindful of Socrates' sense of kinship with the
Divine, sees in the soul a being of divine origin. In it is the long-
ing for reunion with the eternal Being. Having lived, before its
temporal birth, in the presence of pure Being and the contem-
plation of eternally unchanging reality, the soul still possesses
the power to recognize and apprehend this true reality.
From the Phaedo, Phaedrus, Banquet, Republic, and other writ-
ings of Plato, one may gather his chief contemplative views.
True knowledge finds its object, not in visible things, in their
constitutive elements, or in their ordering, but in the invisible
world of essences. Contemplation is a rare, sudden experience
predicated on hard, purificatory effort. It presupposes maxi-
mum bodily detachment and the soul's living progressively in
self-revelatory loneliness. It brings disciplined, dialectical con-
sideration to objects regarded in their intelligible purity. Fol-
lowing this preparatory stage a sudden, clear illumination
emerges. The veil is torn from that Beauty in itself which is true
reality. The soul thus given new vision is bemused as in marriage
under the spell of a joyous, almost foolish abandon.
Such contemplation beholds that immutable reality apart
from which all sensible things would be but deceptive appear-
ances. It looks upon reality itself, upon that divine Beauty
which is pure and uncorrupted in its truth. This reality is given
orderly disposition in the world of Ideas, that is, of forms, or
veritable essences. The organ of this contemplation is the pilot
of the soul, the nous. To it alone true Reality is accessible.
These Ideas are contemplation's object to the extent that they
are clarified "by the Sun of the intelligible world." This very
principle of Truth and Beauty, albeit transcendent to both of
these, is the Good itself. Even as it transcends all things, the
Good is, in a sense, immanent in them. The soul, with affinities
for the world below as also to the intelligible order, aspires to
the higher world and to the Good. Uniting itself to that order,
it finds its happiness at last, therein.
The soul, having pre-existently beheld the true Being and
absolute Truth, now seeks to regain this vision. To that end,
sense passions must be abased with the aid of reason. The soul's
educated eye, its spiritual sense, now eschews all earlier dark-
ness. The "Sun of Truth" is insatiably sought. New light falls
gradually upon the world of nature. The soul finally looks upon
the Good itself in its very essence, over and beyond its reflection
in natural phenomena. Everything beautiful in the visible and
in the invisible world alike is seen to emanate from the absolute
Beauty.
The soul is guided all the way in its homeward itinerary by an
intermediary, that "great demon love." Through it, com-
munication is established between the divine and the mortal
world. Through it, the soul is uplifted from terrestrial to celes-
tial things. Far from being a mere conducer to the contempla-
tive vestibule, this love is at once a moving principle and an
occasion of knowledge. Within it, doing and knowing are
joined. However unsynthesized and ambiguous the mystical and
the more learned aspects of Plato may be, these qualities are not
opposed. It is in the mystical Plato that Plato the scholar finds
his light.
A R I S T O T L E (384-322 B . C . ) AND
P H I L O (30 B . C . - A . D . 50)
Aristotle and the Peripatetics, generally, think of the perfect
man as being concerned contemplatively with metaphysical
matters while given actively to practical issues. Theoria and pure
thought, however delightful, yield finally to a kind of praxis,
that is, to a daily activity wherein the human stays well within
itself. Contemplation, or theoria, viewed as a union with pure act
is thought illusory.
The Stoic ideal emphasizes the logical life. The life of action
led forth in reason finds the divine Logos immanent in daily
things, not detached from the sensible world. The conduct of
the practical life is the Stoics' preoccupation. Actually they
emphasize detachment from sheer things and attachment to the
role of superior reason.
For Philo, contemplation is a matter of knowing God. This is
not merely in terms of his rationally deduced existence as
creator. Rather, the soul takes leave of everything, the body and
its very self included, under the rapturous possession of the
Divine. Contemplation such as this is, therefore, possible only
through God's communication of himself. In the present life,
action understood as prayer and liturgical chant leads normally
to contemplation. Mediating between the God who is imma-
nent in man and the universe are divine agencies, or Logoi. The
supreme Logos, who is "the Word and the Image of God,"
assists man in his contemplative solitude and in his striving to-
ward that loving, virtuous service of others that is prosecuted in
oneness with the Divine. There is here an ascetic conquest of the
lower passions. Knowledge is found in the victory over sense and
in the ecstatic "going out of oneself." Finally, building upon the
purgative and illuminative steps, the soul comes to the unitive
experience. Herewith the vision of God is granted, with mystical
ecstasy following upon the soul's self-transcending withdrawal
from all finitude. The mind, mastered at last by the divine love,
light, and joyousness, knows the contemplative love of God fully
joined to active service for man. One thinks of Ruysbroeck, for
example, when observing Philo's insistence upon "the 'universal
life,' lived Godwards and manwards."
PLOTINUS ( A . D . 204-269)
Plotinus finds the soul driven by an insatiable desire to seek
out its first principle and its last end, namely, the supreme
Good. This desire is the all-motivating end of action. It is, like-
wise, the condition for that living contemplation which is the
intelligence. Those possessed of this intelligence preserve no
static experience but rather seek the Good, further, under the
energizing dynamic of love. "Those who contemplate are the
ones who truly love." Eros, always oriented to a beauty beyond
itself, becomes the intermediary between the desiring subject
and the desired object. Thus love becomes, for the lover, the eye
by which he beholds his beloved. No selfish passion, this desire
for the Good seeks, in union with the supreme Good, its own
perfection.
The soul and the nous—that organ of higher contemplation
—move by this dynamis toward union with the supreme Good.
This assumes in the contemplative an affinity with its end and
in the nous a trace of the One. The nous bears in itself a likeness
to the first principle from which it comes. In the soul's hidden
depths is an image of the One and of the Good. Imperfect
though the resemblance be, it makes possible the seeking and
finding of the first principle by the intelligence. Likeness is
attracted to its like even as the eye, comprising luminous
elements, goes toward the light. The eye inclines toward the sun
in conformity with it. The soul sees the beautiful in so far as it
becomes beautiful. Let him who would contemplate God and
Beauty become comformable to God and to the Beautiful.
Contemplation is conditioned on the purification of the nous.
The nous renounces all, itself included, in order to become, in
its action, only a trace of the One within it. Since we truly are
that which we are in act, and since activity at its best is con-
templation, we become that which we contemplate. In the act
of self-renunciation, the nous gives itself up to a higher action.
It falls under the benignant operation from above which makes
mystical union possible. Denying, in a sense, that to see God is
to die, Plotinus believes that one may see God even in this life.
But the intelligence, in the process of rendering this possible, so
far ceases to be itself as to find in the ecstatic vision a kind of
death—a separation more radical than that of body from soul.
The soul and the nous realize in this self-renunciation a true
conversion, a genuine, receptive turning to the first principle.
Here, ensuing on purification, is the gift of illumination, an in-
flux of love, an incomparable fecundity, a possession by the
Divine, a virtual ravishment. The nous finds union with the One
only if, and when, the One illumines, fortifies, and fructifies it.
In contemplative experience the mystic is passive under the
divine action. Only by God's initiative does one see God.
At the contemplative summit there suddenly appears a pres-
ence, as of a great light. This is all-encompassing as if to blot
out the separateness of see-er opposed to that which is seen. One
is reminded of a fully absorbed reader, not reflectively conscious
of his reading. Presence here transcends knowledge. Contempla-
tion at the peak is unknowing and unconscious. It is not so by
default but by an all-encompassing self-comprehension which
transcends further objectivizing and multiplying of data and
goals. It is beyond further need such as the thinking nous
customarily knows.
Here, then, is a union where two are truly one without con-
fusion of identity. Plotinus is not properly interpreted as teach-
ing a flat absorptionism, an identification of the One and the
soul. He here focuses a relational sense of presence, a banish-
ment of sheer otherness in a true, living union of the contempla-
tive with the One. This is not identity, then, but union. The
mystic, far from being annihilated, is possessed by the Divine.
The soul having reached the end of its ascensional pilgrimage
has come to joyous beatitude. This is a repose, not of inactivity,
but of fructifying action. Herein the supreme Good—always
distinct from other beings—continues to stimulate and elicit a
loving, responsive commerce. Here, then, is the Platonic return
to original purity and active conformity with the One. This is
intimate union unseparated from the One. This is that godly
life of godlike men, that world-renouncing "flight of the alone
to the alone." 19
AUGUSTINE OF HIPPO (354-430)

Most authorities probably agree that Augustine's teachings
on mystical theology and contemplation have to be gleaned
from relatively limited sections incorporating basic elements but
no didactic synthesis.20 In addition to prime sections that he
emphasizes, Butler, for example, has translated some fairly
extended passages.21
19
The foregoing treatment is reconstructed from the excellent, source-based
analysis of DS II, 1716-42, with literature, col. 1742. There is a lucid,
brief expose in Smith, An Introduction to the History of Mysticism, chs. 2 and
4. Consult W. R. Inge's authoritative The Philosophy of Plotinus, 2 vols.,
2d ed., London, 1923. Plotinus: The Enneads is translated by Stephen
Mackenna, 2d ed., Faber & Faber, Ltd., London, 1956. See E. Gilson, A
History of Christian Philosophy in the Middle Ages, Random House, Inc., N e w
York, 1955, b y index.
20 Butler, Western Mysticism, p . 20; D S I I , 1919.
21
Such as Confess., V I I , x, 16; xvii, 2 3 ; I X , x, 2 3 - 2 5 ; Enarratio in Psalmum,
41 (Heb., 42); De quantitate animae, 74-76, etc.; t h e Enarratio, rather lengthy
a n d translated b y Butler, op. cit., p p . 21 ff. C o m p a r e Augustine: Confessions
and Enchiridion, ed. b y A . C. Outler, Library of Christian Classics series,
Vol. V I I , T h e Westminster Press, Philadelphia, 1955, especially p . 151,
note 3 9 ; also texts of t h e Confessions a n d literature cited on p p . 17-23, 4 1 3 .
N o t e t h e significant evaluations of mystical experience in Augustinus
magister: Congris International Augustinian, Paris, 21-24, September, 1954,
2 vols.
Contemplation, it there appears, is primarily the lot of the
blessed in heaven. Though properly belonging to the future lift,
some beginnings of it, some passing glimpses or foreshadowings
of divine things, are possible here below. In his early work on
the Quantity of the Soul, Augustine provides a deservedly famous
analysis of seven grades or degrees in the soul's functioning.22
These steps introduce the fundamental consideration, not only
of purgation, but of illumination and union as well. Thus the
more remote preparation for the contemplative life is found in
purification which is tentatively mentioned in relation to the
fourth grade. More specifically, the last three grades deal with
the threefold way. In the fifth station, the soul finds tranquillity
in the face of the passions, as well as a veritable cleansing and
reformation actually begun in the fourth. Apropos of the sixth
stage there is the ingressio, that is, the leading into or the
approach of the soul to contemplation; even as the seventh is
contemplation itself, here described as the soul's feeding or
sustenance. That is, in the fourth and fifth degrees, the soul's
ethical refurbishing or transformation is being effected, its
purity established and sustained, its purgation and reformation
are being wrought by God. This cleansing and healing of the
soul having been achieved by him, he then leads the soul
in, illuminating it in the sixth stage, by way of preparation
for the seventh, or unitive, level. At this last station he feeds
it.
Here, then, is the purification of the soul and its affections
with the peace of soul that virtue gives; a heightening of its de-
sire to know God, together with its entrance into light; and,
finally, the contemplation of divine things.23 In The Lord's
Sermon on the Mount (I, iii, 10) 24 as in the so-called contempla-
tion of Ostia, from the spiritually autobiographical Confessions
(IX, x-xi, 23-27), ascending levels mark the soul's develop-
ment. This progression passes through (1) poverty of spirit, (2)
piety in receptiveness to the Sacred Scripture, (3) knowledge of
one's own miserable defection from God, (4) hard-working,
painstaking cultivation of the hunger and thirst for righteous-
ness, (5) further openness to God's gracious mercy proved by
22 De quantitate, 79, 80; also 70-75; Butler, op. cit., p. 28.

23 Pourrat, Christian Spirituality, Vol. I, p. 212.
24 As translated in Ancient Christian Writers, Vol. 5, by J. J. Jepson, from De
sermone domini in monte (MPL 34: 1229-1308), T h e Newman Press, West-
minster, Maryland, 1948. Cf. D S I, 1113.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION 2Q
one's own mercy extended to others in need of help, (6) a clean-
hearted, pure-minded, self-liberating preparation for the con-
templative vision and, finally, (7) wisdom, wherein the purified
intelligence contemplates truth and the divine perfection even
as it comes to experience true peace and a genuine similitude
with God. In the second and third degrees, the study of Scripture
is basic even as this accompanies all the other steps. Coming
out of the fourth degree, the soul orients itself contemplatively,
having already had a foretaste of union. It advances with
a dual propulsion of purification and Godward attention. In the
work of purification, love of neighbor exercises a large role,
actually a dominant one in the fifth degree.25
The proximate readying of the soul for contemplation may be
said to inhere in the processes of recollection and introversion.26
Here recollection is much more than mere remembering. It is
more properly the galvanizing of the mind's forces in fullest con-
centration. With images, sensuous creatureliness, and externali-
ties all banished, with the intellectual processes stilled and the
mind itself emptied, introversion may begin. In other words, the
entering of the mind into itself, the mind's concentration on its
deepest or highest part, is at hand.
The soul's return to God is, as Bishop William Bernard Ulla-
thorne of Birmingham says, predicated on its entry, first, into
itself. God communicates with man only at his soul's center. To
this point Augustine speaks in his eloquent Book X (viii, 12 to
xxvii, 38) of the Confessions (see VII, x, 16). As observed by
Underhill, it was the tragedy of many mystics in the Middle
Ages to have veered away from the appreciation of introversion,
even as it was the higher glory of Ruysbroeck and others to have
rejoined Augustine in stressing it.27 Augustine did, indeed, find
God "more inward" than his "most inward part," "higher than
[his] highest." 2*
Augustine having sought God across the different reaches of
consciousness entered at last "into the very seat of the mind."
One cannot easily contest the assertion that whatever the term
applied to Augustine's personal contemplation, one must
acknowledge the accentuation of the intellectual character in it.
In him the living light is, as it were, an ensemble binding with
25 D S I, 1114; De quantitate, 7 9 - 8 0 ; 7 3 - 7 5 .
26 Butler, op. cit., p . 2 9 .
27 E . Underhill, Ruysbroeck, London, 1914, p p . 152-53; also J . A . Bizet,
Ruysbroeck; asuvres choisies, Aubier, Paris, 1946, p. 64.
28 Confess., I l l , vi, 11; Butler, op. cit.9 p. 30.
It, in a Christian synthesis, the insights toward which the non-
Christian influences of his pre-Christian philosophizings had in-
clined him. Augustine's mysticism is oriented to admiration and
joyous regard for the divine graces, as it is also characterized by
an intellectual and spiritual humility far removed from Neo-
platonic subtleties.29
This is not to deny the obvious indebtedness of Augustine to
Plotinus, for instance. Butler, in surveying the crucially auto-
biographical passages, notes the strongly Plotinian coloring. He
remarks how Augustine pays his due to the Platonists who had
urged him to return to himself. In the Ostian passages of the
Confessions and elsewhere in it, as also in the Enarration on Psalm
41, there is, at times, an undoubtedly Plotinian contour of con-
templative language and idea. Certainly, in a way not charac-
teristic of many Western mystics with their prayerful absorption,
Augustine's contemplation is mainly "an intellectual process."30
There is more than a little question about Augustine's highly
intellectual contemplation. Is it actually mysticism or Plato-
nism? Butler readily answers that this is genuine mysticism and
valid contemplative experience. Beginning with what at first
seems the sheerest Platonism, it develops into the highest type
of mysticism. Augustine may admittedly diverge from the mys-
tical itinerary that is today deemed classic. He has not been less
favored than other contemplatives, on occasion at least, with
the graces of infused contemplation.31
Aside from MarechaPs debatable attempt to capitalize
Augustine for the defense of a possible vision of God while yet in
this life, there is in the learned Jesuit's researches a significant
reinforcement of Augustine's contemplative character.32 In re-
ply to the skeptical queries of E. Hendrikx, it has been reiterated
that Augustine is indeed a mystic: "His serene luminous mys-
ticism impregnates the Plotinian dialectic of which he is the
tributary and permits the emergence in unequivocal terms of a
highly personalized experience characterized by an uncommon,
supernatural passivity." 33
In the balance of the contemplative and the active, there is in
29 D S II, 1919-20.
30 Confess., V I I , x, 16; xvii, 2 3 ; I X , x, 2 3 - 2 5 ; Butler, op. cit., pp. 3 1 - 3 4 ,
2 1 - 2 4 ; Gilson, History, p. 70.
31 Butler, op. cit., pp. 2 0 - 2 4 , 4 0 - 6 2 ; D S I I , 1919-20; Confess., X , xl, 6 5 ;
Enarr. in Ps. 4 1 : 9 - 1 0 .
32 fitudes, V o l . I I , pp. 180-84; D S n > I 9 2 0 -
33 D S I I , 1920.
Augustine, as later in Gregory and Bernard, an incitement to
Christian service and social responsibility that inspired the
whole of the Middle Ages.34
J O H N CASSIAN (d. 434)

John Cassian (d. 434) is closely associated with Augustine's
contemplative impact. He has left a discernible mark on vir-
tually every school of Western spirituality.35 His emphasis on
the capital vices came, through Gregory's modifications, to be a
dominant motif in the ethical speculations of medieval thinkers.
Occidental spirituality likewise reflected his analytics of the
two ways. These distinguished the practical life (the vita actualis,
or ethica) and the life of contemplation (the divina or spiritualis
contemplatio) as well as his double reference to the sciences. They
concerned his classification of "actual," and "theoretical" or
"spiritual," knowledge. They also focused the ends to which
these ways and types of knowledge lead. Final objectives are
purity of heart (puritas cordis, or apatheia) and pure, perpetual
prayer (pura et iugis oratio).36 Like many others, he experimented
extensively with the eremitic life only to adopt by choice that
cenobitic renunciation whose reform principles entered into the
lasting contribution of Benedict of Nursia and his Rule. 37
Cassian is more explicit in his spiritual teachings than Augus-
tine. The essential qualities of the Eastern tradition are adapted
from Gregory Nazianzen and from Evagrius, especially, into a
presentation that is much more practical than speculative. The
insight of the experimentalist, more than the recapitulation of
the Fathers, characterizes this popuiarizer of renunciatory
asceticism.
The approach of Cassian to supernatural contemplation is,
34DSI, 1124-26.
35 See M. Cappuyns, "Cassien," Dictionnaire d'histoire et de geographie eccU-
siastiques, ed. by A. Baudrillart et al., Vol. I I (Paris, 1939), cols. 1319 ff.,
1346 ff.; D S I I , 223 ff., 1921-29.
36 T h e analysis of this section follows the line of the foregoing a n d of
F. Cayre, Patrologie, 4th ed., Paris, 1947, Vol. I, p p . 581 ff., together with
O . Chadwick, John Cassian, Cambridge, 1950, chs. 5 a n d 6 especially.
Key references to the Conferences a n d Institutes, impossible to document in
detail here, m a y be found in the above according to the editions of t h e
Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum, Vols. 13 a n d 17.
37 P . Schmitz, Histoire de Vordre de Saint-Benoit, 2d e d . , M a r e d s o u s , 1948,
X
949> V o l . I , p . 3 4 , a n d V o l . I I , p . 3 5 9 ; also Benedict, Reg. 7 3 ; Berliere,
L'ascise, p p . 3 - 4 .
then, from the vantage ground of the inner kingdom of God. It
stresses spiritual knowledge, pure prayer, and the ''place of
God." The monastic life seeks to foster that spiritualization so
indispensable to the soul's unity with God. This is the way of
"renunciants" who solicit divine union via knowledge and the
intellectual virtues in an interchange where "like recognizes
like."
Cassian's first Conference posits contemplation as the goal of the
truly religious life. The monastic way leads the soul by purity of
heart and perfect love to the anticipation of that beatitude
which inheres in the inner kingdom of God. Consummated only
in the future life, it may be possessed here, in a measure, by
every righteous soul through the working of the Holy Spirit by
way of contemplation.
Such perfection is frequently checkmated by obstacles such as
concupiscence and the eight principal vices as well as by mani-
fold temptations and the devil himself. These may be countered
by prayer, especially, as well as by penitence, fasting, mortifica-
tion, and the ascetic's renunciation of all worldly supports, his
very self included. The virtues help demolish obstacles to per-
fection even as they accent the way of corporate obedience and
the soul's orientation to the good. Supernatural peace which
crowns the virtues is the effect of love and the gift of God con-
ditioned by prayer.
In prayer the mystic gifts complete what was launched in
ascetic dedication. Perpetual prayer is not acquired without the
virtues. Without prayer the virtues would not come to perfec-
tion. Contemplation is not the result of a natural dialectic.
"Spiritual knowledge" is the contemplation of the hidden mys-
teries couched under the letter of Scripture. The Holy Spirit by
its light confers this spiritual knowledge upon the pure of heart.
It is a gift, not the result of a facile or even methodical exercise
of natural capacities. The monastic common life does favor con-
templation in that its devotion in all its forms is a purification
which prepares the way for spiritual knowledge.
Three stages of prayer culminate in a fourth, that is, perfect
or pure prayer, a prayer of fire. Wholly gratuitous and superior
to all human effort, it is transitory and occasional at best—an
interior elan, but fugitive. This is a prayer of silence and may
extend to the point of ravishment. It is the condition of a fully
renounced soul, one having invoked the way of apathy by over-
leaping not only the vices but also every possessive instinct.
Under this reign of despoilment new spiritual sensibilities are,
by way of charity, substituted for the old, natural ones. The soul
knows internal tears, not merely external ones, that are at once
the fruit of compunction and the joy that God alone bestows.
For Cassian, spiritual knowledge is inseparable from prayer.
Furthermore, pure prayer is not dissociable from the contempla-
tion which Cassian calls perpetual prayer, or oratio iugis.
Moral purity and the renounced life of the virtues (apatheia)
conduce, then, to theoretical purity (theoria) at the summit of
contemplative experience. The monastic life is characterized by
pure, perpetual prayer because it unites, indissolubly, theoria
and apatheia.
DIONYSIUS THE AREOPAGITE (c. 500)

To exaggerate the role of Dionysius the Areopagite in medi-
eval mysticism would be difficult indeed. Through the mediat-
ing influence of such men as Hilduin, John Scotus Eriugena,
and Hugh of St. Victor, he entered the mystical tradition of the
later Victorines, Bonaventure, the Rhenish mystics, Cusa,
Ruysbroeck, and the German Theology.™
Dionysius goes farther and deeper in his search for mystical
reality than the cultivation of spirituality in general. In the
larger sense, the whole arena of theology is mystical, since it
emphasizes scriptural initiation and revelation as transmitted
by God's own oracles to his properly designated, earthly hier-
archs. The Areopagite, however, neither derogates ecclesiastical
authorities nor sets them up as a privileged coterie. True mys-
ticism focuses the mysterious decoding of the Christian alle-
gories that the angels know so well. Through the angelic beings
38 The ensuing treatment follows closely the good brief discussion of M. de
Gandillac, CEuvres, pp. 31 ff., with its complete modern edition of the
primary sources. It is also oriented to the massive source analyses with
exhaustive literature given by R. Roques in DS II, 1885 ff., and III,
244 ff. The Dionysiaca, ed. by Dom Ph. Chevallier et al., Paris, 1937, 2
vols., is indispensable for the entire Dionysian corpus. See also the older
edition of Migne, Patrologia Graeca, Vol. I l l , Paris, 1856. Quite useful
studies are G. Thery, Etudes Dionysiennes, Vols. I and II, Paris, 1932, 1937,
and V. Lossky, "La notion des 'analogies' chez Denys le Pseudo-Ar6o-
pagite," Archives d'histoire doctrinale et litUraire du moyen age, Vol. 5 (1930),
pp. 279-309; also his Essai sur la thiologie mystique de Viglise d'orient, Aubier,
Paris, 1944. In addition to providing a good introduction, C. E. Rolt,
Dionysius the Areopagite, London, 1920, translates the Divine Names and the
Mystical Theology. Sharpe, Mysticism, translates the second of these. Con-
sult Marechal, Etudes, Vols. I and II, by index. Gf. Gilson, A History of
Christian Philosophy, pp. 81-85, 597~98.
3 L.MoM.
and in the line of proper ecclesiastical tradition, we may come
to know the allegories also. The contemplative life with its pur-
gation, illumination, and union is open, therefore, to the totality
of holy people and not to specialized renunciants alone, whether
lay, clerical, or monastic. This is not some rarified experience
with Deity in the Plotinian or even Eckhartian sense. Rather,
that which characterizes Dionysian theoria or contemplation in-
heres in the symbolically interpreted, Christian liturgical rites.
The illumined ones are concerned with a mystical theology
which, in its sacramental and hierarchical reaches, provides,
first, an intelligible, decipherable symbolism of the traditional
allegories.
In the introductory procedure of the Divine Names, Dionysian
exegesis utilizes, first, the method of affirmation or cataphase.
The myriad degrees of reference incident to considering the
Universal Cause in all its ramifying effects conduces to end-
lessly diversified inadequacies of imagination, denomination,
and description. The opposite approach through negation or
apophase involves a contrasting brevity. Here, the divine essence
gets its only definition in terms of the ruthlessly constricting
denial of all names, however remote or intimate, usually held
applicable to God.39
The Mystical Theology proper is not content even with such
progressive negations as are held necessary to the liberation of
Deity from banal definition and description. True, symbolic
initiations, holy rites, and the double use of cataphase and apo-
phase all have their respected roles. But all must finally be
transcended in that realm of "darkness clearer than light"
hitherto penetrated by Moses only. Here all oppositions are
transcended; not only those of intelligence and intelligibles, of
being and nonbeing, but also of "yes" and "no."
In the realm of luminous shadow which both hides and re-
veals the divine mysteries, those who are free, whether of things
seen or things seeing, advance into the true, mystical darkness
of ignorance. Considerations of intelligence and essence alike
having been abandoned, one enters into a union of ignorance
with one who is beyond all essence and all knowledge. Renounc-
ing all things and oneself utterly, the mystic comes, by the eleva-
tion of pure ecstasy, into the resplendent darkness of the divine
superessence. Through a repudiation of all knowledge, he
gains a knowledge that surpasses his understanding. It is into
39 Gandillac, (Euvres, p. 34; Mystical Theology, ch. Ill, ch. I, 3.

this realm of learned ignorance—entered only by Moses, who
himself saw not God but only the place where he dwelt—that
Eckhart, Cusa, and others inquire.40
Perhaps the approach to this mystical summit appears to
sever the direct continuity of spiritual hierarchy. It certainly
stands accused of introducing an exceptional degree of union
only slightly different from that accorded Moses and Paul.
Actually, Dionysius carefully refrains from considering this con-
templative mount as attainable under the circumstances of
man's limited perfection. His references to that relative perfec-
tion here attainable accent the degree of the soul's dedication
rather than actual ascent to the unitive peak. Each one of the
"holy people," or contemplatives, stops short of the mystical
zenith. How near, under God's solicitation, he comes, depends
on the measure of his powers and his divinely enabled merits.41
Dionysius puts a curious emphasis upon the word "Eros," or
amorous desire, which he places above "Agape," or charitable
love. This love is more than the lure drawing each being toward
perfect Beauty and that which lies beyond beauty. It is, already
in God, the always superabundant source of an infinitely out-
going bounty. Here, also, the term "Eros" implies ecstasy. It
impels all loving beings to go out of themselves. It constrains
God to produce the universe. By it, superiors are led to guide
inferiors. Under its spell, equals unite themselves one with the
other, and inferiors raise themselves toward those who partici-
pate more fully in the divine love. Love is a universal phenom-
enon. The deifying union is only one example of it. 42
What in the entire Dionysian corpus seems least Christian is
the concept of hierarchy. This is less a product of pure Plato-
nism, perhaps, than it is a mark of "Neoplatonic decay." At first
glance the hierarchical concept appears to picture a set of con-
centric circles barring out all possibility of relation between the
human and divine person. Apparently, the expansion of charity
and the great duty of dispensing the light have here been
estopped. Hierarchy seems too much for the love motif of
"Eros." Against the profane, Dionysius carefully closes the door
to the sanctuary. Is this a veiled hint of clericalist privileges and
abuses? Closer scrutiny tends to allay our fears. The initial view,
the classical image of the universe of stairs, is largely neutralized
40
Mystical Theology, chs. I, V ; on theoria a n d "ecstasy," cf. D S I I , 1894-1911.
41
Gandillac, CEuvres, p . 35.
4
2 Divine Names, I V , 12, 13; (Euvres, 709 B, 712 A, p p . 106-107, 38. O n
Dionysian ecstasy in detail, cf. D S I I , 1894-1911.
by the Plotinian "image" of spokes of a wheel all of which touch
equally at their engendering, unifying center.43
Himself antecedent to all being, God is present in each be-
ing. Thanks to the immanence of the transcendent, each par-
ticipates in all. The worth of the person is not only preserved,
but extended, since God lives in each to the degree that each,
according to his measure or fashion, is able to live in God.44
"Each according to his measure, or fashion" is the whole
secret of the Dionysian hierarchy. As Lossky has so well seen,
this notion of analogy is central for Dionysius.45
Analogy, however, does not have for Dionysius its later
scholastic meaning. The Dionysian analogy signifies "according
to the measure of powers or merits in each." Each properly re-
stricts his operations to the functions assigned him on the basis
of his abilities and limitations.46 It is thus that one's place in the
hierarchy is determined. This is not a case of spatial distances.
Saying that the orders which live nearer to God are more con-
formed to him than those farther from him, does not imply that
proximity means space; rather, proximity here connotes the
greatest aptitude for receiving the divine graciousness.47
But does this susceptibility in any way result from an arbi-
trary degree? No! Dionysius insists on human freedom. This is
the single cause of evil in the world—of the revolt of angels and
men. This is less the attraction of nonbeing or the seduction by a
bad principle than it is the meager participation in divine
things.48
The Divine Names may be cited as authority for analogical
premises. It is in the measure that free beings apply themselves,
to the degree that they receive in their plasticity the multiple
imprints of the pure, original seal, that they share in ordered
mobility and arrange themselves hierarchically.49 It is the privi-
lege of the Universal Cause, this totally transcendent good, to
invite beings into common with it. The gracious likelihood is
43 Divine Names, V , 6 ; (Euvres, 8 2 1 A , p p . 1 3 2 - 3 3 . O n t h e r e c o n c i l i a t i o n of
love, ecstasy, a n d hierarchy see D S I I , 1908 ff., I l l , 264-280.
44 Ibid., V, 5; CEuvres, 820 A, p . 131; Divine Names, I, 4; CEuvres, 592 G, p . 72;
D S I I , 1891. See t h e excellent articles b y R . R o q u e s , " L a notion d e
hierarchie selon le Pseudo-Denys," Archives, V o l . 17 (1949), p p . 183-222;
Vol. 18 (1950-1951), p p . 5 - 4 4 .
45
See note 3 8 .
46 Letter, V I I I , 1; CEuvres, 1089 D - 1 0 9 2 A , p . 3 4 1 .
47 Ibid., V I I I , 2 ; CEuvres, 1092 B , p . 3 4 2 .
48 Divine Names, IV, 19-20; CEuvres, 716 G-D, 717 C, pp. m - 1 3 .
rt Ibid., II, 6, IV, 2, 28; CEuvres, 644 B, 696 A, 729 A-B, pp. 83, 95, 121-23.
held out that even the humblest will become, in his own way, a
co-operator with God.50
This is not all. Within each degree or rank, men as well as
angels have a double mission. While tending toward the highest
communion possible, they likewise assist their inferiors to elevate
themselves to their own rank.51
The precedent power and example of the Celestial Hierarchy
prepare us to understand the language of the Ecclesiastical Hier-
archy. It declares that "the common end of all hierarchy con-
sists, then, in that continuous love of God and of the divine
mysteries which produces righteously in us the unifying presence
of God himself." But in order to attain to this "presence it is first
necessary to pass by total deprivation, and without return, from
all that which makes itself an obstacle." 52
We see, then, the place of charity in a system that at first ap-
peared to subordinate everything and everybody to an ensemble
of fiats and interdicts. The ecstatic eros is not just an inclination
to idealized beauty. It is also at each rank or degree—more
properly stated, for each person—an efficacious love of neigh-
bor. It corresponds in each soul to a direct participation in the
charity of Christ.
As for the great themes of Christianity where they involve
soteriology, the incarnation, Christ's redemptive Passion, and
his "imitation" by his followers—these are by no means ignored,
even if they are sometimes unduly sublimated or even distorted
according to Occidental Christian views.
BENEDICT TO GREGORY THE GREAT

The history of contemplation from the sixth to the twelfth
century reflects an age that is monastic in its fundamental con-
cepts and practices. A spiritual revival is foreshadowed less by
distinctive treatises than by the occasional literary deposits that
accrue about the centers and leaders of contemplative retreat.
Benedict (d. 555), though he never mentions contemplation as
such, receives and transmits earlier impulses to it. The common
life of stability and familial dedication fosters an experience of
worship and a utilization of the Fathers—Basil and Cassian,
particularly—that will mature the renunciatory spirit.
so Htir. cil., IV, 1; (Euvres, 199, 41-42.
si Hier. c6l, VIII, 1; HMr. eccl., I, 2; (Euvres, 240 B, 372 D-373 A, pp. 214,
247.
52 Hier. eccl., I, 3-4; (Euvres, 376 A-B, pp. 248-49, 42.
Contemporary with Benedict, Julianus Pomerius (c. 500)
had, in his De vita contemplativa, made clear the subordination of
earthly interests necessary if the heavenly realities were to be
anticipated now and realized hereafter. An active life of good
works was not only tolerated by the contemplative desire but
also insured by it. The third book of Julianus5 Contemplative Life,
though not given to contemplation per se, shows this sense of
social responsibility that links the pilgrimage toward the eternal
vision with the ministry of present need. It forever joins the ser-
vice of contemplatives and scholars with administrators and
actives generally (ch. 28). Julianus left a heritage to the Middle
Ages at this point, as well as in his summary of four approaches
to the meaning of contemplation. These included knowledge of
future things, abstention from all worldly occupations, the
study of sacred letters, and, finally, the vision of God proper.
Boethius (d. 526) is almost exclusively referable to mysticism
at the point of intellectual speculation. This will become ap-
parent in the Victorines. Cassiodorus (477-570) combines the
monastic regimen, the study of the liberal arts as a preparation
for spiritual inquiry and sacred commentary, and the meditative
perusal of the Fathers and other Christian sources conducive to
divine contemplation.53
GREGORY THE GREAT (540-604)

In the contemplative tradition, Gregory has been said to
stand midway between Augustine and Bernard. That is, he is
less intellectual than Augustine, less emotional than Bernard.
Obviously, his place in this company is secure as one of the pre-
eminent doctors of the contemplative life. He shows a real in-
debtedness, however indirect, to Augustine and reflects, in some
small degree, the Neoplatonic influences derived via the Bishop
of Hippo. His borrowing from Augustine is, however, mainly
that of practical, doctrinal emphasis rather than philosophical
or even theological speculation. The place of Benedict and his
Rule is admittedly large in his spiritual formation, as in his
pontifical administration of monastic resources.
53 See DS II, 1929-33 for the foregoing treatment. On Benedict, consult

Berliere L'ascese, pp. 1 ff., and Schmitz, Histoire, Vol. I, pp. 15 ff., and
Vol. II, pp. 346 ff. Julianus Pomerius, The Contemplative Life, The New-
man Press, Westminster, Maryland, 1947, is a translation by Sister Mary
Josephine Suelzer.
Suited by temperament to the contemplative persuasion,
Gregory exemplified in his own life the unselfish ministrations
of the active tradition as well. His whole tenure of the papal
office fell in precarious times, and his active witness was given
just when mystic repose would have been most welcome. With
Augustine and Bernard, he symbolizes, for Dom Butler, the
great triumvirate of Western mysticism at its representative
best in the equipoise of contemplation and action.54
Briefly analyzed after the commendable interpretation of
Gillet, in his introduction to the Morals on Job, Gregory's mys-
ticism is characterized by its luminosity.55 Here at the forefront
Gregory considers the light without limit, i.e., the lumen incir-
cumscriptum. It is impossible to know God as he is, given the fact
of man's fall, the limitations of thought imposed by "images,"
and the characteristic vacillations of the human spirit. Man
must, therefore, be raised above himself by the Divine. To this
end man must prepare himself through detachment and active
good works, that is, by the ascetic way. In all of this there is
place, also, for the findings of a negative route, but not after the
fashion of a Dionysius seeking the God of obscurity.
The act of contemplation is, as Gillet points out, truly gratui-
tous. Without effort on his part, man finds himself raised by an
all-powerful force. Passive under the divine inspiration, save for
desire and aspiration, the soul is elevated above itself. The mind
is lifted by the divine breath above its wonted function of
animating the body. The intelligence finds itself carried beyond
its habitual modes of apprehending and knowing. The soul goes
out of itself, as it were. The intelligence, being but one of the
mind's aspects, also finds itself transcended. The Creator's
beauty is contemplated in a knowledge of love {per amorem
agnoscimus). For the love of the spiritual Fatherland influences
man's soul, and God himself shows the way thither. 56
Gregory's mysticism, then, may be said to anticipate, by
means of an obscure vision, the clear vision of heaven. Drawn
toward God and his repose, the human spirit finds itself fettered
by the body, even as it is elicited by the Divine. It longs for
54
This sketch of Gregory is based u p o n D S I I , 1933-34; Butler, Western
Mysticism, p p . 65 ff., 171 ff., a n d t h e sources there analyzed; t h e introduc-
tion a n d sources of D o m R . Gillet et D o m A . d e G a u d e r m a r i s , Grigoire le
Grand: Morales sur Job, livres 1 et 2, Paris, 1952; the Moralia as edited in
MPL 75-76; and the treatments in Schmitz, Histoire, Vol. I, pp. 41 ff.,
and II, pp. 365 ff.; also Berliere, Vascese, pp. 64-68, 216-20, etc.
55 P p . 20 ff. a n d t h e references to t h e Moralia there given.
56 Gillet, op, ciU, p p . 3 6 - 3 9 ; Mor., L i b . X , sec. 13, M P L 7 5 : 9 2 7 - 2 8 .
deliverance from its enslavement, even at the price of death.
This it seeks avidly as the only sure way of release.57 Here below
one cannot concentrate his gaze on God. Dazzled and repulsed
by God's incomparable brightness and light, the soul falls back
on itself, fatigued and, as it were, thunderstruck. This is, by the
way, one of Gregory's most persistent figures, that of the rever-
beratio. The soul is reverberata, at once dazzled and driven back
upon itself.58 The soul then returns into itself, fatigued by its
search for an object which it realizes to be infinitely beyond it.
Seeing its own mortal involvements, it declares itself unworthy
to look upon Him who knows not death. The act of contempla-
tion is, by nature, brief; like the half hour of silence in heaven
spoken of by the Revelator. Again the soul resumes its life of
desire and temptation, these being all the stronger for its having
been granted a higher than merely mortal experience for a
season. There is now vacillation between joy and sorrow, a
dialectic of fear and hope. Fear prompts perpetual tears; love
gives rise to tears of joy. 59
Here, truly, in the very hazard of temptation is its utility also.
Purification by temptation and the evil one must pave the pre-
carious way to contemplation. As for the requisites to the con-
templative state, they are circumspection and self-knowledge,
humility and purity of heart, fear and godly compunction.60
Gregory moves realistically in a barbarous civilization. He
evokes living response from untutored spirits by means of spirit-
ual concretions rather than by any attempt at speculative
abstractions. He makes explicit the discretion implicit in the
Benedictine Rule, thereby implanting it in contemplative
psychology as in institutional moderation. How well he has
ministered contemplatively in terms of Benedictine ascesis, Ber-
liere and Schmitz eloquently testify.61
The relation of Gregory to Augustine is easily discernible.
This, Butler readily notes; even though, as Gillet suggests, there
is too large an emphasis in Butler upon Gregory's divergence
from Augustine. Gillet parallels the writings of the two in terms
of significant likenesses.62
For himself, Butler remarks in Gregory the threefold life,
57 Mor., V I I , 18, M P L 7 5 : 775; Gillet, op. cit., p . 4 8 .
58 Mor., V, 58; X V I , 38; X X I V , 11-12; M P L 75: 711, 1140, 76: 292-93;
Gillet, op. cit., p p . 50 ff.; Butler, op. cit., p p . 74, 8 1 .
59 Butler, op. cit., p p . 8 1 , 79.
60 Gillet, op. cit., p p . 5 4 - 8 1 ; Butler, op. cit., p p . 82 ff.
61 See note 54.
62 Butler, op. cit., p p . 74-75; Gillet, op. cit., p p . 29 ff., 86 ff.
ascetic training as inescapable preparation for contemplative

experience, and the roles of recollection, introversion, and con-
templation. These three stages are set forth in the Homilies on
Ezekiel and in the Morals, XXIII, 42. The Sermon on Ezekiel,
II, v, 9, is a veritable treatise on the contemplative and the
active life, together with an analysis of the nature of contem-
plative union. The vision of God in Gregory's interpretation
draws heavily on the Morals, also.63
FROM GREGORY TO BERNARD

Countless manuscripts witness Gregory's immense influence
on the Middle Ages. Isidore of Seville (d. 636), borrowing from
him, surmounts the active with the common life. Bede the
Venerable (d. 735) reflects Augustine and Gregory consistently,
especially in his commentaries. Those seeking perfection must
necessarily espouse contemplative practices. The soul on the
way to the Lord's mountain and its Sabbath repose is not thereby
exempted from the active practice of virtues. But the con-
templative life, the speculativa, yearns to see God's face and to en-
joy the eternal vision in the company of the angelic choirs. The
Lord alone grants contemplative light to those whom he chooses
for such graces. Stemming from divine rather than human
initiative, this heavenly boon falls to the Christian few who have
elected the more perfect life. These, out of the receptiveness in-
duced by sacred studies, by meditation on the Saviour's life, by
fasts and prayers, as well as by laborious preparations in faith,
receive a mystic illumination. It is brief in duration and enig-
matic in character.64
In the monastic environment of ninth and tenth century
spirituality, the Benedictine temper and the Gregorian stamp
persist. But the Benedictine Rule expands and intensifies its
hold through a noticeably larger emphasis on cultural interests,
theological inquiry, and prayer, both private and liturgical.
Monks are, moreover, becoming priests, increasingly. Benedict
of Aniane's reforms reunify cenobitic life wherever possible
through the imposition of the Benedictine Rule. The role of
knowledge is accented, and the study of sacred letters is sup-
plemented increasingly by access to the Fathers, Gregory in
63
Butler, op. cit., p p . 6 6 - 7 1 , 8 7 - 9 2 ; Horn, in Ezech., L i b . I I , H o r n , v , sec.
8-20, M P L 76: 9 8 9 - 9 9 6 ; Mor., X X I I I , 42, M P L 76: 277, for example.
64 See t h e account i n D S I I , 1935 f.; Berliere, Uascese, p . 2 2 0 ; Schmitz,
Histoire, V o l . I I , p . 373.
particular. The necessity of understanding the faith as it con-
duces to love is emphasized. Prayer, reading, meditation, and
study are held favorable to contemplation. Long prayers, the
intensified use of psalmody, and cultic proliferations are
espoused in the monasteries, those isles of oraison. Of course
Benedict's own admonition is still held normative, inasmuch as
chapter 20 of the Rule calls for prayer that is brief and pure
unless one is strongly moved by divine graces.65
Rabanus Maurus (d. 856) and Paschasius Radbertus (d. 860)
alike place a premium on contemplative repose after the pat-
tern of the celestial country. They likewise recall Gregory in
joining it with an active spiritual witness here below. John
Scotus Eriugena makes his contribution by translating and com-
menting upon Dionysius, who had previously been presented by
the Abbot Hilduin. But Eriugena's own doctrines have little
weight and his translation does not make Dionysius a force until
the twelfth century.66
Meanwhile, the Benedictine reform at Cluny registers sig-
nificant contemplative advances. Saintly abbots and distinctive
usages develop to a high peak the liturgical resourcefulness of
reformed Benedictinism. A widely diversified library and the
growing use of Cassian, the early Fathers, and Gregory in the
monastic cycle of renunciatory habits are noteworthy. The writ-
ings of Odo, Majolus, Odilon, and Hugh, for instance, show
little originality. They reflect, rather, the influence of earlier
contemplatives and a measured employment of spiritually sane
customs environing new liturgical experiences.
The Cluniacs abjure high theories and subtle dialectics as
well as scholastic theology and the Dionysian discipline. Their
ascetic and mystical preoccupations are with acts of love rather
than with systematic disquisitions about that love. Cluniac piety
is fostered and channeled through the divine office. This piety
makes large place for devotion to the humanity of Christ, the
mysteries of his life, and his earthly vicissitudes. In the con-
templative life of Cluny the Psalter is perhaps the most all-
comprising source.67
65 D S I I , 1936-38. O n Alcuin a n d Benedict of A n i a n e , see Schmitz, op. cit.,

Vol. I I , p p . 377-82.
66 Schmitz, op. cit., Vol. I I , p p . 3 8 3 - 9 1 ; D S I I , 1937-39. Consult also,
H. Dorries, Zur Geschichte der Mystik: Erigena und der Neuplatonismus,
T u b i n g e n , 1925, a n d Gilson, History, p p . 113-28, 6 0 9 - 1 3 .
67 DS II, 1939-41; Schmitz, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 392-99; G. de Valous, Le
monachisme clunisien des origines au i$e sikle, Paris, 1935, Vol. I, pp. 329 ff.
Within the Benedictine orbit in Italy, Romuald (d. 1027) and
Peter Damian (d. 1072) are significant for spiritual fervor and
regalvanized asceticism. With Romuald new forms of con-
templative enthusiasm eventuate in sublimer ecstasies. Peter
Damian assumes that contemplation, for the monk, is that per-
fection referred to at the end of Benedict's Rule. Monks are
called to intimacy with God, domestica familiaritas. He thinks of
this higher life variously as repose, marriage, vision, solitude,
liberty. In the midst of episcopal administration, he yearns in
retrospect for contemplative leisure. He struggles to protect the
mystic vision against the obfuscations of the encroaching world.
In his doctrine of tears and in his meditations on Christ's love,
he suggests Bernard. He praises the contemplative persuasions
of Cluny. Reform preacher and fiery perfectionist, he is Jerome-
like in his ardor, blunt in speech, indefensible in his scriptural
exegesis, almost savage in his ascetic prescriptions. He meditates
dolefully and penitentially upon the sufferings of the Master.68
John of Fecamp (d. 1078), deriving from Ravenna, was
doubtless influenced by Damian. An indefatigable collector of
contemplative anthologies, he was himself the deeply gifted
adapter of Augustinian and Gregorian sentiments. He was im-
mediately responsible for collections of prayers and meditations
long and confidently ascribed to Augustine and Anselm. These,
including meditations and prayers of his own authorship, pro-
vided the centuries with edifying source studies in contempla-
tion that approached the later popularity of the Imitation of
Christ. These are the more remarkable inasmuch as they were
produced out of a welter of monastic administrative duties.69
Anselm of Canterbury (d. 1109) provided spiritual works in
a double category. A varied set of treatises emphasizes specula-
tive theology. The Prosologion, for example, is an essay on Chris-
tian philosophy with overtones of mystical experience. In it
faith is fostered through intelligence. The mystery of God cul-
tivated in love is also analyzed and justified by means of dialec-
tic. His Letters, Meditations, and Prayers are reduced in number
but accentuated in spiritual value by present-day researches.
Reminiscent of the character and method, though not of the in-
tensity, of John of Fecamp, they also serve as source booklets for
contemplative exercise. In these, speculative and affective
68 D S I I , 1941-43; Schmitz, op. cit., Vol. I I , p p . 403-06.
69 D S I I , 1943-44; J . Leclercq, et J . P. Bonnes, Un maitre de la vie spirituelle
au xie siecle, Jean de Ficamp, Paris, 1946; also studies in A. Wilmart,
Auteurs spirituels et textes divots du moyen age latin, Paris, 1932.
approaches are clearly joined. Speculative works unite thought
and love. Doctrinal preoccupations are clearly apparent in his
meditative prayers.70
Peter the Venerable (d. 1156), friend of Bernard and worthy
abbot apologist for Cluniac uses, shows little originality of con-
templative thought or action. Gregory is clearly deducible from
his statements as being the spiritual inspiration of his order in
his time. The Life, the Homilies, and the Dialogues of the great
pontiff are the regular spiritual diet of the Cluniac monks. Peter
de Celle (d. 1183) gives, with Peter the Venerable, an essen-
tially similar picture of Cluniac exercises. He also accents the
role of humility, divine readings, ascetic discipline, frequent
confession, and daily communion in order to unite the soul with
its spouse. The typical Cluniac centrality of the Eucharist is here
depicted.71
Summarized in the most cursory fashion the contemplative
life of the sixth to the twelfth century in the West permits of a
few generalizations already supported by specific cases. Con-
templation is regarded as the vision of God, impossible on
earth, realizable only in heaven. The mystical vocation is, in a
general sense, issued to all, but it finds its earthly realization on
the higher levels feasible for a few only. Contemplation is im-
possible without asceticism, that is, the active life in its ancient
meaning. Eschatologically oriented and validated, the contem-
plative life is embraced in faith, hope, and love. It is not pri-
marily a matter of knowledge, specialized science, or psychic
phenomena. Experienceable at different grades, the highest form
is an ecstasy without images, a ravishment of soul (or excessus)
that defies ordinary means of knowing and doing.
The role of knowledge is to invite contemplation through
70 DS II, 1944; also the edition of his Opera by T. S. Schmitt, Vol. I l l ,
Edinburgh, 1946, and the translation from earlier texts by D. A. Castel,
Meditations etprieres, Paris, 1923; also studies in Wilmart, op. cit.
71 DS II, 1944-45; J. Leclercq, Pierre le Venerable, Saint-Wandrille, 1946;
also La spirituality de Pierre de Celle, Paris, 1946. The "divine readings," i.e.,
the lectio divina (or sacra) here referred to involved a distinctively monastic
reading or study of Scripture, the arts, the Fathers, and Catholic tradition
as these conduced, through ascetic discipline and liturgical uses, to con-
templative ends. The lectio divina is put in Biblical and patristic focus with
particular reference to the Vulgate, Jerome, Gassian, Augustine, Cassio-
dorus, and others by B. Smalley, The Study of the Bible in the Middle Ages,
Philosophical Library, New York, 1952, pp. 26 ff. Compare H. H. Glunz,
History of the Vulgate in England, Cambridge, 1933, and Denys Gorce, La
lectio divina des origines du cinobitisme a Saint Benoft et Cassiodore, Vol. I, Paris,
1925 (vol. title: Saint Jfrdme et la lecture sacrie).
preparatory reading and Scriptural meditation. Contemplation,
proper, witnesses the capitulation of the soul to the divine mys-
tery whereupon the function of the intelligence is to focus the
adhesion of the spirit rather than the work of explication. Con-
templative knowledge is knowledge by love, even as Gregory
had set it forth.
The contemplative existence seeks a milieu favorable to it, as
well as separation from typically worldly occupations. The
monastic life, eremitic and cenobitic, especially, provides the
ideal environment. Within it is a regularity of spiritual exer-
cises. Its liturgy is the cadre of the contemplative experience.
The relation of the contemplative and the active is different,
of course, for the monk and for the Christian at large. The
monk's vocation is specifically contemplative. His active exer-
cises refer mainly to the intramural ministrations of his monastic
calling. For clerics, laity, and particular monks given to definite
apostolate in the world, the problem is necessarily different.
Their preoccupation must be to accord contemplation its due
place in the midst of worldly turbulence. The contemplative
experience, however distinctively fostered by the monastic fra-
ternity, is no prerogative of this group. All Christians and clerics,
especially, are encouraged to incline themselves to the mystical
experience. The ideal for them is to "unite the contemplative
life, by which they detach themselves from the world, to the
active life which they lead in the world."
As for the contemplative tone of medieval monastic litera-
ture, the accent is on serenity. The deepest security of the soul is
sought in an atmosphere of calm, peaceful repose.72
72 DS II, 1946-48.
Bernard of Clairvaux (iogo-1153)
INTRODUCTION
BERNARDINE ERA
t WELFTH CENTURY SPIRITUALITY, THE CONTEM-

plative age of gold, finds in Bernard of Clairvaux, Wil-
liam of St. Thierry, and Guarric of Igniac a nucleating
interpretation of the mystical life. All find contemplative rest to
be the fruit of humility and of the active labors attendant upon
progression through its various degrees. Just as Bernard accents
"theoretical" contemplation in contrast with "active" contem-
plation or "consideration," so William's contemplative fruition
realizes itself on the highest rung of humility as a species of
"apathy." Guarric first makes place for active labors and the
works of humility that reflect the earlier espousal of Leah and
the activated modesty of Martha. Like the rest, he seeks the
ultimate boon in the quietude of contemplation represented by
marriage with Rachel, and by Mary's better part.
For all of these, love's possession, or the experience of divine
companionship, rather than the mind's comprehension of God,
is paramount. Thus in Bernard, for instance, consideration seeks
to think and know but contemplation longs to see, savor, and
taste. Furthermore, scientia, that erstwhile, estimable knowledge
of divine things that comes with consideration, must give way to
sapientia, that supreme wisdom which is the fruition of the love
of charity. Both William and Guarric see this wisdom as a
joyous, incommunicable earnest of celestial happiness. Even for
William, the most intellectualized of this group, intellectual love
(amor intellectus) is less a matter of sheer knowledge than it is a
fruitive participation in the life of God.
The contemplative mood accentuates the intimately dis-
ciplined experience of the divine society. Reverently seeking to
prefigure the nuptials of the affianced soul with its divine
47
48 BERNARD OF GLAIRVAUX
Bridegroom, these seekers after the contemplative gift long for
the sacred kiss. This kiss symbolizes the yearning, not so much for
knowledge and spiritual doctrine, however good, as for the priv-
ilege of contemplating the joy of one's Lord. The Bride, having
received the kiss, is led into the wine room. This is, perhaps, less
a realm of liquid than of light. It is more a concentration of
truth than of fermented beverages. Yet, there is here a double
transport of spirit and heat, light and fervor, knowledge and
devotion; a veritable liquefaction of the soul lost in spiritual
delights.
Ravished out of itself (abalienatio), the soul is unable to con-
tain itself or to remain in its senses by reason of excessive joy.
But the soul regains its calm in God's presence. The wine cellar
gives place to the nuptial chamber. The sacred kiss leads to the
pure embrace of the Bridegroom. The Bride has indeed a fore-
taste of heavenly ecstasies. Here is rapture and vital repose
anticipating the very serenity of the angels themselves.
But this rest is short-lived, this ravishment a matter of brief
intervals only. Here below, the divine vision is fugitive at best.
This theoria and these "theophanies" granted as contemplative
solace to the faithful on earth are advance tastes only. The divine
life and revelation in Christ become, for the contemplative, the
way of savoring now the eternal realities later to be fully ex-
perienced.
For such as these, the present life is given alike to the church's
worship and to the world's need. Divine office and liturgical
regularity are the never-exhausted source of contemplative fer-
vor. But the dedication to the Divine there fostered is continued
at the divine behest in a balancing service to the world. Action
prepares the way for, and sustains, the contemplative life. A
laudable versatility in handling contemplative realities and
active necessities is discernible in twelfth century spirituality,
to the later decades at least.
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
Bernard was born at Fontaines near Dijon. He was educated

at the school of St. Vorles and at twenty-one years of age served
a spiritual apprenticeship at Chatillon-sur-Seine. With some
thirty companions he entered the monastery of Citeaux in 1112.
At Stephen Harding's instance he founded Clairvaux in 1115.
His abbacy there reflected the fullest devotion to the Benedic-
tine ideal, which he debated in its reform application with his
INTRODUCTION 49
friend, the Cluniac abbot, Peter the Venerable. He helped

secure approval for the Order of Templars in 1128, established
the papal claims of Innocent II (1130-1143) over those of the
schismatic Anacletus II (1130-1138), and effected Abelard's
condemnation at the Council of Sens in 1140. He also brought
about Gilbert of Porree's recantation in 1148 at the Council of
Rheims. Reflecting his unparalleled influence in the temporal,
as well as spiritual, affairs of Europe, he preached at Pope
Eugenius Ill's request the second crusade at Vezelay in 1146.
Deeply dejected over its failure in 1149 he nevertheless planned,
at one time, with Suger of St. Denis for a new one. He died in
1153. Canonized in 1174, he was made a Doctor of the Church
in 1830.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL ESSAY
William and Guarric are suggestively analyzed in relation to

Bernard by DS II, 1947-59. Basic texts and studies of William
include Deux traites de Vamour de Dieu: De la contemplation de Dieu
& de la nature et de la dignite de V amour, ed. by M . M . Davy, J .
Vrin, Paris, 1953; Un traite de la vie solitaire, Epistola adFratres de
Monte Dei, also ed. by Davy, J. Vrin, Paris, 1940; and Le miroir
de lafoi, tr. by J. M. Dechanet, Charles Beyaert, Bruges, 1946.
A standard life is that by E. Vacandard, Vie de Saint Bernard,
2 vols., Paris, 1895. See, also, his article in the Dictionnaire de
theologie catholique, Vol. II, pt. 1 (1932), cols. 746-785. Bernard's
Opera are in MPL 182-83. The comprehensive Bernard de Clair-
vaux, Commission d'histoire de Vordre de Citeaux, I I I , Paris, 1953, is
indispensable. See B. S. James, The Letters of St. Bernard of
Clairvaux, Burns Oates & Washbourne, Ltd., London, 1953.
W. Williams, Saint Bernard of Clairvaux, University of Man-
chester, 1935, is basic.
Consult W. Williams, The Mysticism of Saint Bernard of Clair-
vaux, Burns Oates & Washbourne, Ltd., London, 1931, chs. IV
and II, and the articles by J. Leclercq, M. Standaert, and E.
Wellens on Bernard's theology, spirituality, and mysticism in S.
Bernardo: Pubblicazione commemorativa JSfelF VIII Centenario Delia
Sua Morte. [Pubblicazioni Dell' Universita Cattolica Del S.
Cuore, Nuova Serie, Vol. XLVL], Milan, 1954, pp. 30-91.
Another pertinent collaboration is Bernhard von Clairvaux, Monch
und Mystiker: Internationaler Bernhardkongress, Mainz, 1953,
Franz Steiner Verlag, Wiesbaden, 1955. Compare Pourrat,
Christian Spirituality, Vol. II, pp. 19 ff., 63 ff., and Schmitz,
4 L-M.M.
Histoire, Vol. VI, pp. 223 ff. The progression of the theme of
love in Bernard's spiritual writings is set forth in DS I, 1474 ff.
De diligendo explains the reasons for, and degrees of, love. On
Conversion, the Sermons on Ps. 90, and chapters 10—22 of the
Grades of Humility show the transformation of carnal, self-love
into the love of God. Epistle 11 (chs. 12-15 of the De diligendo),
the first nine chapters of the Grades, and Books 2—5 of On Con-
sideration stress the degrees of elevation in the love of God. The
commentary on the Canticles is essentially concerned with the
description and explanation of the highest degree of love, i.e.,
the mystical or unitive stage, proper. £. Gilson, La theologie
mystique de Saint Bernard, Paris, 1947, is excellent here. Nos. 8, 23,
31, 45, 52, 71, 74, 82, 83, and 85 in the Canticles series are pre-
occupied with contemplative experience. Dom Butler's Western
Mysticism utilizes large translated portions of this series, pp. 95 ff.,
igi ff. Complete translations are available in S. J. Eales,
The Life and Works, 4 vols., London, 1889-1896, Vol. 4, and in
the edition of the Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles by the Priest
of Mount Melleray, 2 vols., Dublin, 1920. Large portions are
given in M. M. Davy, (Euvres, 2 vols., Paris, 1945, in J. Le-
clercq, St. Bernard, Mystique, Paris, 1948, and in Beguin, (Euvres
mystiques, Paris, 1953. The Latin text is in MPL 183. See the
close references in R. Linhardt, Die Mystik des hi. Bernard von
Clairvaux, Munich, 1926.
SYNOPSIS
There is a sense in which Bernard may be said to have written

but one treatise on spirituality, to have elucidated but one re-
lationship of the soul with God. That treatise and that relation-
ship center in love. His work called De diligendo Deo has been
predominantly utilized in this source book because this treatise
is, in itself, as it signifies by the title, at the heart of Bernard's
contemplative thought and life. Out of the complexity of his
writings and the varied circumstances of monastic leadership, as
well as the European-wide considerations that prompted them,
the theme of love constantly recurs. The treatise On the Love of
God is at the heart of Bernard's mysticism of love. It is most
closely associated with the series On the Song of Songs in which this
same theme is commented at length. The combined passages of
the anthology, though they might easily be exchanged for others
of Bernard's works, set forth clearly the main outlines of his
contemplative concern.
INTRODUCTION 51
Bernard has left no mystical treatise as such. For him, mys-
ticism, or mystic union, is simply the highest degree of the scale
of love. All of Bernard's treatises on love conclude with an ex-
position of this last mystical degree. The sermons on the Can-
ticles series may be thought of in their entirety as preparatory to
mystical union. At the center of Bernard's mysticism is a divine
operation that empowers the soul, elicits it, and raises it up in
love. This mysticism is, primarily, "a perfect participation in
the love which God has for himself in the unity of the Spirit."
As Bernard says, "To become thus is to be deified." l
The chief outlines of Bernard's thought on the mystic union
as a marriage, that is, on the occupations of the soul as being
the relations of a Bride with her Bridegroom, or of the Soul with
the Word, may be briefly stated. The cogent chapter 7 of The
Grades of Humility reveals the course of the sacred nuptials.2 The
divine action has the initiative. Under its ministrations, the soul
has been rendered spotless and without wrinkle, thanks to the
workings of humility and charity. The will no longer fights
against reason. Reason ceases to represent the truth falsely to the
will. The Father joins himself to the soul in intimate espousal.
With her reason no longer preoccupied with itself, and with
her will forgetting to put even neighbor first, the happy soul is
suffused with joy: "The king hath brought me into his store-
rooms." 3
Sermon 23, after the introduction of the soul into the wine or
store room, the cellaria (nos. 1-8), shows the entry of the espoused
into the peace of the bridal room, the cubiculum (nos. 9-16).
Sermon 83 highlights the resemblance of the soul with God, the
actual occasion of the marriage. With such a marital conformity
drawing her to the Word, the soul, like Him by nature, is im-
pelled to resemble Him, also, in her will; thus loving Him as she
is loved by Him.
Bernard, in commenting upon the mystical marriage, uses the
words raptus, or ravishment, and excessus, or ecstasy. Ravish-
ment, as the transforming action of God, is focused in ch. 10 of
the De diligendo Deo and adverted to in ch. 11. In Sermon 71 on
the Canticles, Bernard makes it clear what he means by this
1
Sic qffici, deificari est. De diligendo Deo, X, 28. Cf. the translation by "A
Religious of C.S.M.V.," New York, 1950, p. 66.
2
Cf. Cant. serm. 23, 83; DS I, 1479 ff.; Gilson, La thtologie, pp. 158-62. See,
especially, Pourrat, Christian Spirituality, Vol. II, pp. 68-75.
3
Cant. 1:3 (4); cf.
6 8
Vacandard, Dictionnaire de ihiologie catholique, Vol. 2, pt. 1
( ) , pp. 74 ~ 5> especially, pp. 779-80.
52 BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX
transforming union. It is the destruction of man's proprium, the
obliteration of his private singularity or individual possessive-
ness, and his metamorphosis into unity of spirit with God. The
soul, adhering wholly to God, without vestige of its own self-
centeredness, becomes one spirit with him. Gilson has, at this
juncture, celebrated in felicitous language, this "perfect accord
between the will of the human substance and that of the
divine substance in a strict distinction of substances and
wills." ^
As for excessus, or ecstasy, Bernard never attributes to this
such corporal effects as levitation, for example. The connota-
tion of excessus for Bernard is, first of all, "pure love." In this, the
soul loves itself still, but only because it loves all that is in God,
and itself as having become a single spirit with God. Epistle n
(i.e., De diligendo Deo, 15) puts this in proper perspective. Within
this condition of pure love, the single function of the espoused
soul is one of loving, as Sermons 52 and 83 of the Canticles series
describe it. Gilson's commentary on the last of these, especially,
is a moving interpretation. Here the soul stands forth emanci-
pated at last from all cupidity and fear. The excessus is, finally,
the illumination of the Spirit.5
The conception of the Verbum sponsus reminds us that, with the
exception of the remarkably early passage in De gradibus, 7,
where the Father himself calls the soul to spiritual marriage, it
is the person of the Word which Bernard presents as the Bride-
groom. Significantly enough, the Word is the Spouse of the soul,
with its likeness to God, precisely because the Word is the image
and the splendor of the Father. The Word is, naturally, the
mediator of this similitude. The transforming union is, there-
fore, an accomplishment of the Word. This is the fruitage of his
visits and colloquies with the soul.6
The wrork of the soul, in response to the divine action is the
researching of the Word. In Sermon 85 of the Canticles, probably
written shortly before Bernard's death, a beautiful summation
of mystical doctrine is subsumed. Here the soul seeks out the
Word in order to accept the corrections that he will mete out to
her; knowing well that she will thereby be illumined unto new
truth, initiated into further virtue, conformed to his conduct,
4
La thtologie, pp. 148, 142-56.
5
Ibid., pp. 163-72; cf. Cant. serm. 23, nos. 15-16; 41, no. 3; 52, no. 3; De
consid., V, 14.
<5 DS I, 1480-81; Cant. serm. 82, 8, 31, 71, 45, 77; also Gilson, op. cit.,
pp. 48 ff., 115 ff., "on dissimilarity and similarity."
INTRODUCTION 53
joined with him unto fruitfulness, and delighted with him unto
lasting happiness in his presence.
This is a fitting conclusion to the course on the Canticles which
Bernard had opened with the text: "Let Him kiss me with the
kisses of his mouth." In the Canticles, Sermons 3 and 4, Bernard
had detailed the description of the purgative, illuminative, and
unitive stages of the contemplative life under the imagery of the
threefold kiss. Kissing first the feet of Christ, we prostrate our-
selves in sorrowful repentance for our sins. In kissing his hand
we will be lifted up by the bestowal on us of the grace of con-
tinence, fruits worthy of penance, and acts of piety; we will
thereupon be made to stand upright. Only then may we lift our
eyes to the countenance full of glory, not only to gaze upon it but
—with fear and trembling be it said—also to kiss it. The spirit
thus presented to us is Christ the Lord, "to whom being united
in a holy kiss, we are by his condescension made to be one spirit
with him." 7
The kiss of his mouth signifies, then, the reception of the
Spirit's inpouring with a revelation that illumines understand-
ing and intensifies love. The Bride's modest request that she
yearns to have granted her under the semblance of the Kiss is
this: That the grace of the triple knowledge of the Trinity be
hers so far as present mortality permits it—that the light of
knowledge and the unction of true devotion both be conferred.8
As Butler's texts so well illustrate, the willingness in Sermon
85 to be led to highest contemplation and most active fruition is
a parable on Bernard's balance between the two lives. Like
Gregory, Bernard found the purely contemplative life infeasible,
the mixed life actually best, the contemplative life generative of
active zeal. Mary and Martha are sisters and spiritual room-
mates. The spiritual marriage previously discussed produces
spiritual fecundity in soul-winning. There is a healthy alterna-
tion between sacred repose and necessary action. One should
wisely show himself a reservoir rather than a canal. A canal
spreads water abroad as it receives it. A reservoir waits until
it is filled before overflowing and communicating its super-
abundance without loss to itself.9
7 Cant. serm. 3, no. 5; Williams, Mysticism, pp. 35-40; Butler, Western Mys-
ticism, p. 96.
8 Cant. serm. 8, nos. 2-6; Butler, op. cit., pp. 98-100; DS II, 1952-54.
9
Western Mysticism, pp. 191-227; Cant. serm. 51, no. 2; 58, no. 1; 8, nos. 2, 3.
Bernard of Clairvaux
ON THE LOVE OF GOD 10
THE TEXT
Chapter One
Why We Should Love God, and How We Ought to Do It
You wish me to tell you why God should be loved, and in what
way or measure we should love him. I answer then: the reason
for our loving God is God; and measure of that love there
should be none.11 Is that enough to say about the matter? For a
wise man most probably it is, but I am under obligation to the
foolish also; and though I may have said enough for those with
understanding, I must have due regard for others too. For those
less apt, then, I gladly will explain what I have said more fully,
if not with greater depth.
I might have said there was a twofold reason for our loving
God solely for himself. First: nothing can be loved more justly.
And, second: nothing can be loved with so much profit to our-
selves. The question Why should God be loved? includes both these,
for it may mean either What is his claim upon our love? or What
benefit shall we derive from loving him ? My former answer stands in
either case: there is no other worthy cause for loving God except
himself. As to his claim upon our love, he surely merits much
from us who gave himself to us, unworthy as we were: what
better gift could he have given than himself? If, then, it is his claim
we have in mind when asking, Why should God be loved? the first
and foremost answer is, "Because he first loved us." Most plainly
is he worthy of our answering love, especially if we consider who
he is who thus bestows his love on us, who are the objects of it,
10
From the text of De diligendo Deo, ed. by W. W. Williams in Select Treatises
of S. Bernard of Clairvaux, Cambridge University Press, London, 1926,
pp. 8-69, translated by "A Religious of C.S.M.V.," 1950, and used by
permission of A. R. Mowbray and Co., Ltd., London, and Morehouse-
Gorham Co., Inc., New York.
n Modus, sine modo diligere.
54
and how great it is. For who is he, save he whom every soul con-
fesses, "Thou art my God, my goods are nothing unto thee"? 12
His is indeed the sovereign charity, which seeks for nothing for
itself. But who are they to whom he shows this selfless love?
"When we were enemies," the apostle says, "we were reconciled
to God."13 God, then, has loved us freely, while we were
enemies. How much has he loved us? "So," says John, "God
loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son."14 "He
that spared not his own Son," says Paul, "but delivered him up
for us all."15 The Son, moreover, tells us of himself, "Greater
love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his
friends." 16 This is the claim the Just One has on sinners, the
Highest on the lowest, and he who is Almighty on the weak.
You say, perhaps, Yes, that is true of men, but with the angels
it is otherwise. That I admit: the angels had not our human
need. For the fact is that he who helped man in his misery kept
them from falling into such a plight at all; and he whose love
gave men the means to leave their lost estate, by a like love
preserved the angels from sharing in our fall.
Chapter Seven
That Loving God Is Not Without Its Fruit and Due Reward; and that
the Human Heart Cannot Be Satisfied with Earthly Things
Now let us see what benefit accrues to us from loving God.
What we can understand of this is but a fraction of the mystery;
and yet it is not right that we should refrain from speaking about
the very little that we can take in. Just now when we were
speaking of the reason and the measure of our love for God, I
said the question might be taken in two ways. One, which con-
cerns his title to our love, has been discussed already, not
worthily indeed but to the best of my ability. It remains now for
me to speak (again as God shall give) about the second sense:
What benefit shall we derive from loving God?
God is not loved without reward, although he should be loved
without reward in view. True charity is never left with empty
hands; and yet she is no hireling,17 out for pay, but "seeketh not
her own." 18 The disposition of the will in love is not a bargain;
no stipulation enters into it. It is a voluntary movement of the
13
12 Ps. 15 (16) :2. Rom. 5:10. n John 3:16.
17
is Rom. 8:32. 16 John 15:13. Mercennaria.
is I Cor. 13:5.
affective faculty, an action of free will.19 True love is therefore

self-sufficient, self-contented; its object is itself its recompense.
When you apparently love anything because of something else,
what you are really loving is the end, the object of your love; the
means you value only in relation to it. Paul does not preach the
gospel for his daily bread; he eats his daily bread that he may
preach. It is the gospel that he loves, not food.20 True love seeks
no reward; and yet it merits one. Nobody ever dreams of offer-
ing to pay for love; yet recompense is owed to him who loves,
and he will get it if he perseveres. On lower levels, we hold out
promise of reward to laggards; we need not so encourage willing
men. Who ever thought a person ought to be rewarded for doing
what he wanted of his own free will? No one gives money to
a hungry man to make him eat, nor to a thirsty one to make him
drink; nor does one bribe a mother to suckle her own child.21
And you would think it just as strange to use entreaty or offer of
reward to get a man to fence in his own vineyard or care for his
own trees, or build a house for his own dwelling place. Much
more, the soul that loves God seeks for God, and wants no other
prize. Where it is otherwise, you may be sure it is some other
thing, not God, that really is the object of her love.
It is natural for a rational being always to seek those things
which, in his judgment, are better and more useful for his ends;
and he is never satisfied until he has acquired the thing that he
prefers. A man who has a pretty wife, for instance, looks round
with roving eye to find a fairer woman; if he has got a costly suit
of clothes, he wants one even better; however rich he is, he will
be jealous of anyone who is more wealthy still. You see it hap-
pening every day: landowners still "lay field to field" and seek
by all means to extend their property, however much they may
possess already; and those who live in spacious palaces and
royal habitations are daily joining house to house and ever in a
fever building new or taking down or altering the old—
rectangular for round or round for square. And men in high posi-
tion too, are they not always on the climb, trying to hoist them-
selves to higher places still? There is no limit to such restlessness,
because in all these things the absolute can never be attained.
And yet why should we wonder at man's discontent with what is
less and worse, since he can find his peace in nothing save only
19 Affectus est non contractus, i.e., " a m a t t e r of affection, n o t a c o n t r a c t , " as
A. C . Pegis renders it in The Wisdom of Catholicism, R a n d o m House, I n c . ,
N e w York, 1949, p . 246.
20 Cf. I Cor. 9:14-18. 21 Cf. Isa. 49:15.
in the highest and the best? The foolish thing, the rank, the
utter madness, is to spend all this energy on trying to get things
which, when acquired, can never satisfy or even take the edge
off our desires! There is no peace in the possession of such things
as these; whatever you have got you still want more; always you
are worrying for what you lack. And so it happens that the rest-
less heart, worn out with fruitless toil, is never satisfied however
much it gluts; and ceaseless torment of desire for what it has
not got kills all its pleasure in the things it has. For, after all, who
can have everything? The little anybody can acquire must be
won by toil and is a ceaseless terror to possess. The owner knows,
moreover, that he is bound to lose it in the end, although he
does not know just when that grief will come.22 In this way the
perverted will hastens to sate itself with what it deems the best;
but its own vanity makes sport of it, its own iniquity deceives it
in a maze of winding paths. If the satisfaction of all your desires
is what you are looking for, why must you waste time on all
these other things? You travel by a long road to your goal, and
you may make a fool of yourself long before it brings you where
you want to be. 23
It is on this endless treadmill that the ungodly walk, who try
to find their satisfaction on the natural plane and in their folly
spurn the means that lead to their true end, the end in which
alone they find themselves made whole and not destroyed.24
They waste their energies in unrewarding efforts; yet they
accomplish nothing, for, setting their affections on created
things, they try them all in turn before they dream of trying
God, from whom all things proceed. Suppose they did get every-
thing they wanted, what would happen then? One treasure after
another would fail to satisfy, and then the only object of desire
left would be the Cause of all. It is our nature's law that makes
a man set higher value on the things he has not got than upon
those he has, so that he loathes his actual possessions for longing
for the things that are not his. And this same law, when all
things else in earth and heaven have failed, drives him at last
to God, the Lord of all, whom hitherto alone he has not had.
22 Cf. Eccl. 5:14.

23 R e a d i n g moreris, " y o u m a y m a k e a fool of yourself"—from moror, n o t from
m o r o r , " I d e l a y . " This is preferable to reading morieris, " y o u m a y d i e " —
from morior. Cf. Williams, De diligendo Deo, p . 36 a n d notes, also t h e trans-
lator, p . 49 a n d note.
24 T h e original emphasizes " c o n s u m m a t i o n , " not "consumption": fini dico
non consumptioni sed consummationi.
Once God is found, the soul has rest; for just as on this side no
rest recalls, so beyond the grave no unrest ever troubles any
more. So with the psalmist she cries out: "It is good for me to
hold me fast by God. Whom have I in heaven but thee, and
there is none upon earth that I desire in comparison of thee.
God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." 25 In
this way, therefore, as I said, a soul would reach its highest
Good at last if it could try in sequence first all lesser things than
He.
It is, however, a practical impossibility to make such trial of
all other things before we turn to God. Life is too short, our
strength too limited, the number of competitors for this world's
goods too great; so long a journey, such unfruitful toil would
wear us out. We want to satisfy all our desires, and find we can-
not get possession of all desirable things. Much wiser should we
be to make the choice not by experiment but by intelligence, for
this we could do easily and not without result. The rational
mind is swifter in its action than the carnal sense, and vastly
more discerning. Indeed, God gives us reason for that very pur-
pose, that it may guide the senses in their choice and see to it
they be not satisfied, except by that which reason has approved:
hence the apostle's counsel, "Prove all things, hold fast that
which is good," 26 i.e., let reason so provide for the carnal sense
that it may attain its desire only as reason wills. There will be
therefore no ascent to God for you, no standing in his Holy
Place, the gift of reason will have been bestowed on you in vain
if, like the beasts, you let yourself be guided by your senses,
while reason just looks on. Isaiah speaks of those who have "no
judgment in their goings." 27 They run indeed, whose steps are
not controlled by reason, but not along the track; setting at
nought the apostolic word, they run without a chance of win-
ning in the race. How can they win, seeing they want the prize
only when they have tried all else and failed? Theirs is an end-
less road, 28 a hopeless maze, who seek for goods before they seek
for God.
But with the righteous it is otherwise. Hearing the blasphemy
of the multitude thus marking time upon their endless round
(for the broad road to death has many passengers), they choose
themselves to tread the Royal Road, and turn not to the right
25 p s . 72 (73)128, 2 5 , 2 6 .
26 I Thess. 5:21.
27 Isa. 5 9 : 8 .
28 T h e circuitus infinitus a m o u n t s , actually, to standing still.
29
hand nor the left. These are the souls of whom the prophet
speaks, "The way of the just is uprightness, a direct path is his
to walk upon." 30 They take the timely warning to avoid the
irksome and unprofitable maze; their choice is for the short
word, cut short in righteousness; 31 they do not grasp at every-
thing they see, but rather sell what they possess and give it to the
poor. "Blessed" indeed "are the poor, for theirs is the Kingdom
of Heaven." 32 "They which run in a race run all," 33 but there
is difference between the runners. "The Lord knoweth the way
of the righteous, but the way of the ungodly shall perish." 34
"A small thing that the righteous hath is better than great
riches of the ungodly," 35 for, as the wise man says and the fool
proves, "He that loveth money shall not be satisfied with
money," 36 but "those who hunger and thirst after righteous-
ness, they shall be filled." 37 Righteousness is, for those who use
their reason, their spirits' natural and essential food; but money
no more satisfies the hunger of the mind than air supplies the
body's need in place of bread. Suppose you saw a starving man
inhaling great deep breaths, filling his cheeks with wind to stay
his hunger, would you not call him mad? And it is just as mad to
think that blowing yourself out with earthly goods can satisfy
your reasonable soul. They are as powerless to meet its need as
spiritual blessings are to satisfy the body. "Praise the Lord, O
my soul, who satisfieth thy mouth with good things" 38—yes,
satisfies thy longing with the good, incites thee to its quest, is
ever first with thee in giving it, sustains thee, fills thee full. He
kindles thy desire Himself, who is Himself its Goal.
I said in the beginning: the reason for our loving God is God.
I spoke the truth, for he is both prime mover of our love and
final end.39 He is himself our human love's occasion; he also
gives the power to love, and brings desire to its consummation.
He is himself the Lovable in his essential being, and gives him-
self to be the object of our love. He wills our love for him to issue
in our bliss, not to be void and vain. His love both opens up the
way for ours and is our love's reward. How kindly does he lead
29 M a t t . 7 : 1 3 ; cf. t h e " r o y a l r o a d , " o r t h e " k i n g ' s h i g h w a y " : regiam eligit
viam—Num. 20:17; 21:22.
30 Isa. 26:7. 3i Rom. 9:28: verbum abbreviatum.
32 Matt. 5:3; Luke 6:20. 33 I Cor. 9:24.
34 Ps. i:6. 35 P s . 36 (37): l6.
36 Eccl. 5:9. 37 Matt. 5:6.
38 p s . 102 ( 1 0 3 ) : i , 5 .
39 J\fam et efficiens et finalis. Gf. t h e v a l u a b l e notes of W i l l i a m s , De diligendo
Deo, p . 4 0 .
us in love's way, how generously he returns the love we give,

how sweet he is to those who wait for him! He is rich unto all
that call upon him, for he can give them nothing better than
himself. He gave himself to be our Righteousness, and keeps
himself to be our great Reward. He sets himself to the refresh-
ment of our souls, and spends himself to free the prisoners. Thou
art good, Lord, to the soul that seeks thee. What, then, art thou
to the soul that finds? The marvel is, no one can seek thee who
has not found already.40 Thou wiliest us to find that we may
seek, to seek that we may find. We can both seek and find thee,
but we can never be before with thee. For though we say, "Early
shall my prayer come before thee," 41 a chilly, loveless thing
that prayer would be, were it not warmed by thine own breath
and born of thine own Spirit.
We have now spoken of the way in which our love for God
receives its consummation. We go on to consider how that same
love begins.
Chapter Eight
The First Degree of Love, Which Is the Love of Self for Self**
Love is a natural affection, one of four,43 as everybody knows,
so that there is no need to name them here. And, because love is
natural, it would indeed be just for nature to give her service
first to Him from whom she takes her being; whence comes, of
course, the first and great commandment, "Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God." 44 For, though our nature's law directs us thus
to love God first of all, our weakness and infirmity require the
binding force of the commandment too; because what really
takes the first place in our lives is love for self. We have indeed
no feeling that is not for self. "First that which is natural and
afterward that which is spiritual"—so says Paul. 45 Who ever
hated his own flesh? But if this love, according to its wont, run
to excess and like a flooded river burst its banks and overflow
the plain, it finds its way blocked then by this commandment,
40
Augustine, Confess., X I , ii, 4 ; cf. Pascal, Le mystere de Je'sus, i n Pensies, e d .
L . Brunschvicg, p . 576. 41 p s . 87:14 (88:13).
42 C o m p a r e w i t h Letter X I , sec. 8, Eales, Works, V o l . I , p p . 172-73;
J a m e s , Letters, n o . 12, p p . 4 6 - 4 7 ; a n d Cant. serm. 2 0 . See t h e discussion
in Berliere, Uascese, p p . 101-02; P o u r r a t , Christian Spirituality, V o l . I I ,
PP- 30-33-
43 Love, fear, joy, a n d sorrow, according to t h e Benedictine editor.
45
44 M a t t . 22:37. I Cor. 15:46.
ON THE LOVE OF GOD 6l
46
"Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Justly should he
who shares our nature share our love, and all the more since
love is part of the endowment our nature has from God. A man
who finds it burdensome to serve his brother's interests and
pleasures should discipline his own, if he would keep from sin.
Let him show all consideration to himself, indeed, provided only
he does not forget to show the same to others! This is the curb
imposed on thee, O man, by thine own nature's law and dis-
cipline, lest thou go after thine own lusts to ruin and put the
gifts, that God has given thee, at the disposal of thine enemy—
that is, of wanton, unrestrained desire. It is but just and honest
to give of what thou hast to thine own fellow, rather than to a
foe. And if you follow the wise man's advice and curb your
appetites, and if, content with food and raiment as the apostle
bids, you shrink not for a while to keep your love detached,
abstaining from those "fleshly lusts that war against the soul,"
you will, I think, have little trouble in bestowing on your fellow
men what you have taken away from your soul's enemy. A love
both just and balanced will be yours, if you deny not to your
brother's need what you refuse to your own base desires. The
love of God extended thus becomes benevolence.
But what if, by giving to our neighbor, we find ourselves in
want? What should we do save go with confidence to God,
"who giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not," and
openeth his hand and all things living are filled with plenteous-
ness? Without a doubt he who gives most men more than what
they need will not deny us bare necessities. Has he not told us,
"Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and
all these things shall be added unto you"? 47 He has bound him-
self to give all things needful to him who disciplines himself and
loves his neighbor; and you do seek his Kingdom and strive
against the tyrant of sin, if you refuse to let sin reign in your
mortal body and take the yoke of purity and self-control upon
yourself instead. It is moreover (as I said before) but justice that
we should share the blessings of this life with other men.
But for our love of others to be wholly right, God must be at
its root. No one can love his neighbor perfectly, unless it is in
God he holds him dear. And nobody can love his fellow men in
God who loves not God Himself. We must begin by loving God;
and then we shall be able, in him, to love our neighbor too.
God, author of all good, is author of our love in this way too, in
that, creator of our nature as he is, he makes himself to its
47
46 Matt. 22:39. Matt. 6:33; Luke 12:31.
keeper also; for our nature is so constituted that it needs to be
sustained, and he who made us is the one who meets that need.
We depend on him for our subsistence, then, no less than for the
fact that we exist. That we may grasp this fact and not (which
God forbid!) take credit to ourselves for God's good gifts, his
fathomless and loving wisdom has ordained we should be sub-
jected to tribulations. We fail in these; and God comes to our
aid. He sets us free; and we, as is most meet, give glory to his
name. "Call upon me in the time of trouble; so will I hear thee
and thou shalt praise me" 48—that is what he says. In this way
man, by nature animal and carnal, loving himself alone, begins
to learn it is to his own profit to love God, because in him alone
(as he has often proved) can he do all things which it profits him
to do; he is quite powerless apart from him.
Chapter Nine
The Second Degree of Love, Which Is the Love of God for What
He Gives. The Third, Which Is the Love of God for What He Is
Man begins by loving God, not for God's sake but for his own.
It is, however, something that he should know his limitations
and that he cannot do without God's help. And it is something
too, if he knows what he can do by himself and what with God's
help only, and if he can keep himself from giving God offense,
who keeps him from all harm. But and if troubles come one
after another, and he betake himself to God and find deliver-
ance every time, though his heart be of stone within a breast of
iron, he surely must melt down in gratitude at last. The love of
God for what God gives will thus begin to dawn.
Recurrent troubles throw us back on God, and each occasion
proves how kind he is. And this experience of his sweetness pro-
vides an urge to the pure love of God, more powerful than the
impetus our trouble gave before. We say with the Samaritans,
told by the woman that the Lord was there, "Now we believe,
not because of thy saying, for we have heard him for ourselves
and know that this is indeed the Saviour of the world." 49 We
say this to our natural self, our carnal appetites. "It is not be-
cause of your demands," we tell them, "that we now love God,
but because we have tasted for ourselves and know how gracious
the Lord is." In this way our needs of the flesh become a kind of
language, proclaiming joyfully the benefits of which they have
48
Ps. 49 (50)115. 49 John 4:42.
taught us the value; and, once this has been learned, we find no
difficulty in obeying the command to love our neighbor. The
man who loves like this loves truly; and in so doing he loves the
things of God. He loves purely and without self-interest, and so
will readily obey God's pure command, purifying his heart in
love's obedience, as Peter says. He loves justly, and takes this
just commandment to his heart. This love—true, pure, and just
—he does not offer upon terms, and so it is acceptable with God.
It is pure love, for it is shown in deed and truth, not merely in
vain words. It is just love, because he freely gives who freely has
received. Love of the quality of God's own love is this, seeking
no more its own but those things which are Christ's, even as he
sought ours—or rather us, and never sought his own. "O give
thanks unto the Lord, for he is gracious"—that is what this love
says, gracious and good, not only to his lovers but in his very
self. It is the love of God for God, not merely for oneself. But he
of whom the psalmist says, "He will give thanks to Thee when
Thou hast done him kindness,"50 loves God as yet but in the
second degree. The third degree is that in which the love of God
is purely for Himself.
Chapter Ten
The Fourth Degree of Love, Which Is the Love Even of Self
Only for God's Sake si
Happy is he who can attain the fourth degree of love, and
love himself only for God's sake! "Thy righteousness, O God, is
as the mountains of God." A mountain is this fourth degree of
love, God's own "high hill," a mountain strong, fertile, and
rich. Who shall go up into this mountain of the Lord? "O that
I had wings as a dove, that I might flee away and be at rest," in
that dear place of peace! Woe is me that my sojourn here must
be so long! When will this flesh and blood, this mortal clay,
this earthly frame, arrive up there? When shall I know this kind
of love, when will my soul, inebriated by his love, forget herself,
yea, know herself but as a broken vessel, and go clean out to God
and cleave to him, her spirit one with his?52 When shall I make
the psalmist's words my own, "My flesh and my heart faileth,
50 Ps. 48:19 (49:i8).
si On Williams' summation of the four grades see De diligendo Deo, pp. 46-47,
and notes.
52 Cf. Augustine, De quantitate animae, 74; Williams, op. ciL, p. 47 and notes.
but God is the strength of my life and my portion forever"?53

Happy is he, and holy too, to whom it has been given, here in
this mortal life rarely or even once, for one brief moment only,
to taste this kind of love! It is no merely human joy to lose one-
self like this, so to be emptied of oneself as though one almost
ceased to be at all; it is the bliss of heaven. And yet, if some poor
mortal do attain to swift and sudden rapture such as this, forth-
with this present evil world must drag him back, the daily ills
of life must harass him, the body of this death will weigh him
down, his fleshly needs cry out for satisfaction, the weakness of
his fallen nature fails. Most violent of all, his brother's need calls
on him to return. 54 Alas, he has no choice but to come back,
back to himself and to his own affairs; and in his grief he cries,
"O Lord, I am oppressed, undertake for me," or yet again, " O
wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of
this death?" 55
We read in Scripture that God has made all things for him-
self. His creatures must aim, therefore, at conforming them-
selves perfectly to their creator and living according to his will.
So we must fix our love on him, bit by bit aligning our own will
with his, who made all for himself, not wanting either ourselves
or anything else to be or to have been, save as it pleases him,
making his will alone, and not our pleasure, our object of de-
sire. The sating of our own requirements, the happiness that we
choose for ourselves, will never bring us to the joy that comes
from finding his will done in and concerning us, even as every
day we ask in prayer, "Thy will be done, in earth as it is in
heaven." 56 O chaste and holy love, affection sweet and lovely!
O pure and clean intention of the will, the purer in that now at
last it is divested of self-will, the lovelier and the sweeter since
its perceptions at last are all divine! To become thus is to be
deified.57 As a small drop of water, mingled in much wine, takes
on its taste and color so completely that it appears no longer to
exist apart from it; as molten, white-hot iron is so like the fire,
it seems to have renounced its natural form; as air when flooded
with the sun's pure light is so transformed as to appear not lit so
53 p s . 72 (73):26.
54
Apropos of this inevitable balancing of the contemplative claims by the
active needs, consult Williams, op. cit., pp. 48-49, 42-43, and notes. Cf.
I Peter 1:22 and Heb. 13:1.
55 Cf. I s a . 38:14 a n d R o m . 7:24.
56 Matt. 6:10.
57 Sic qffici, deificari est. S e e W i l l i a m s ' e x t e n d e d n o t e , De diligendo Deo, p . 5 0 ,
on deificare, together with Butler, Western Mysticism, pp. 109 ff.
much as very light itself; so, with the saints, their human love
will then ineffably be melted out of them and all poured over,
so to speak, into the will of God. It must be so. How otherwise
could God be "all in all," if anything of man remained in man?
And yet our human substance will remain: we shall still be our-
selves, but in another form, another glory and another power.
When will that be? Who will be there to see? Who will possess
it? "When shall I come to appear before the presence of God?"
O Lord my God, "my heart hath talked of thee, my face hath
sought thee: thy face, Lord, will I seek." Shall / see, thinkest
thou, thy holy house?58
I think myself that the command to love the Lord our God
with all our heart and soul and strength will not be perfectly
fulfilled until the mind no longer needs to think about the flesh,
and the soul ceases having to maintain the body's life and
powers. Only when she has been relieved of these encumbering
cares will she be fully strengthened by the power of God: she
cannot concentrate her faculties on God and fix her gaze upon
his face, while they are being both absorbed and dissipated in
caring for this weak, rebellious frame. But in the spiritual and
immortal body, the body perfected,59 at peace and unified, the
body made in all things subject to the spirit, there she may hope
to reach the fourth degree of love—or, rather, to be taken into
it, for it is not attained by human effort but given by the power
of God to whom he will. Then she will easily attain this perfect
love, when no allurement of the flesh deters her, no bodily
vexations can distract her in her willing, eager passage to the
joy of Christ her Lord. The question here arises, What of the
holy martyrs? Did they attain this love, at any rate in part, while
still in their triumphant mortal bodies? Beyond all doubt some
mighty power of love possessed those souls who, dying thus to
outward things, could so expose their bodies to the foe and set
their pains at nought. Yet, even so, their sufferings could hardly
fail to mar their peace to some extent, although they could not
touch the root of it. But souls loosed from their bodies, we be-
lieve, will be immersed completely in that sea of endless light
and bright eternity.60
58 P s . 4 1 : 3 (42:2); 26 (27) : 8 ; 26(27)14; e t c .
59
In corpore integro. R e g a r d i n g this a n d t h e concluding lines see Williams,
De diligendo Deo, p p . 5 1 - 5 2 a n d notes.
60
Eterni luminis, et luminose eternitatis.
5—L.M.M.
OF THE THREE WAYS IN WHICH WE
LOVE GOD (SERMON XX ON THE
SONG OF SONGS)
THE TEXT «
Let this sermon take for a beginning the words of a master in

the spiritual life: If anyone love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be
Anathema.62 Without doubt he is altogether to be loved by
whom I have my very existence, my life, and my reason; and I
cannot be ungrateful without being unworthy of all these. He is
plainly worthy of death who refuses to live for thee, O Lord
Jesus; and he is, in fact, dead, as he who does not devote his
reason to thy service is unreasonable, and he who cares to be
anything except for thee is good for nothing, and is nothing. In-
deed, what is man, except that thou hast taken knowledge of
him? 63 It is for thine own self, O my God, that thou hast created
all things; and he who desires to exist for himself, and not
for thee, begins to be as nothing among all things that are. What
is it that the wise man says: Fear God, and keep his commandments:
for this is the whole [duty of] man.64 If, then, this is the whole man,
without this man is nothing. Incline toward thyself, O my God,
what thou hast deigned to enable me to be, humble as it is; take
wholly to thyself, I entreat, the brief remainder of the years
which pertain to my poor life; and for all the years which I have
lost, because I have occupied them in losing myself, despise not,
I entreat, a humble and contrite heart. My days have declined
as a shadow, they have perished without fruit. It is impossible
to Cantica canticorum, Serm. xx, translated from the edition of Dom. J. Mabil-
lon by S. J. Eales, Life and Works, Vol. IV, pp. 109-15. Cf. MPL 183:
867-72. This and the following sermon have been reproduced in R. G.
Petry, No Uncertain Sound, The Westminster Press, Philadelphia, 1948,
pp. 150 ff. Used with permission. A good translation is that of the Priest
of Mount Melleray, Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles, 2 vols., Dublin, 1920,
pp. 194-206. 62 I Cor. 16:22.
64
.$3 p s . 143 (144) 13. Eccl. 12:13.
66
OF THE THREE WAYS IN WHICH WE LOVE GOD 67
for me to recall them; make me, in thy goodness, at least to
meditate upon them before thee in the bitterness of my soul.
Thou seest that wisdom is the whole desire and purpose of my
heart: if there were any in me it is in thy service I would employ
it. But, O God, thou knowest my simpleness; unless it be per-
haps a beginning of wisdom to recognize my ignorance; and,
indeed, this is by thy gift. Augment it in me, I pray; I shall not
be ungrateful for the least of thy gifts, but shall strive to supply
that which is lacking in me. It is, then, for these thy benefits that
I love thee with all my feeble powers.
2. But there is a fact which moves, and excites, and fires me
much more than this. Above all things, it is the cup which thou
didst drink, O Jesu, merciful and kind, the great task of our re-
demption undertaken by thee, which is a stronger motive than
any other for love to thee. It is this which easily draws to itself
all the love I have to give, which attracts my affection more
sweetly, which requires it more justly, which retains it by closer
ties and a more vehement force. To this end the Saviour endured
many and great things, nor in the making of the whole world
did its Creator take upon himself a task so laborious. For in that
earlier work he spake, and it was done: he commanded, and it stood
fast,65 But in the later one he had to bear with men who con-
tradicted his words, met his actions with ill-natured criticism,
insulted his sufferings and even revived his death. Behold, then,
how he loved us! Add to this that he loved us thus of his free
gift, not to make return for any love which we had for him. For
who hath first given to him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again? 66
And St. John Evangelist says expressly: Not that we loved God, but
that he [previously] loved us.67 Indeed, he loved us while as yet
we did not exist; he did even more, for he loved us when we
were opposed to, and were resisting, him, as St. Paul testifies:
When we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his
Son.6* In other words, if he had not loved us when enemies, he
would not now have us for friends; just as, if he had not loved
those who did not as yet exist, they would not be existing now
for him to love.
3. In the next place, his love is tender, wise, and strong. I say
that it is tender, since he has taken upon him our flesh; wise,
since he has held himself free of all sin; and strong, since it
reached to the point of enduring death. For those whom he
65 p s . 32 (33) :g. 66 Rom. 11135.

67 I John 4:10. 68 Rom. 5:10.
visited in the flesh yet he loved not in the flesh, but in the fore-
seeing wisdom of the Spirit. For the Lord Christ is a Spirit who
hath made himself visible to us, 69 being moved toward us with
a zeal of God, not of man, and with a love wiser assuredly than
the first Adam felt for his Eve. Therefore those whom he sought
out in the flesh he loved in the spirit, and redeemed in his power
and courage. It is a thing full of ineffable sweetness to behold
the Creator of man as a man. But while by his wisdom he sepa-
rated [human] nature from sin, by his power he banished death
from [that] nature. In taking flesh he condescended to me; in
separating it from all stain of sin he consulted his own dignity;
in submitting to death he made satisfaction to his Father, and
thus showed himself at once the kindest of friends, a prudent
counselor, and a powerful helper. In him with full confidence I
trust, who was willing to save me, who knew the means, who
had the power to carry them out. The soul whom he sought out,
whom he also called by his grace, will he cast out when it comes
to him? But I do not fear that any violence or fraud will have
the power to pluck me out of his hand; for in vanquishing death
he vanquished all enemies, and in deluding the old serpent, the
seducer of the world, by an artifice more holy than that he had
employed, he was at once wiser than the one and more powerful
than the other. He took upon him human flesh in truth, but
only the likeness of sin; in the former giving sweet consolation
to weak and ailing man, and in the latter prudently concealing
from the devil the snare by which he was deceived. Further-
more, that he might reconcile us with his Father, he bravely
underwent death and overcame it, pouring forth his blood as
the price of our redemption. If, then, that sovereign Majesty
had not tenderly loved me, he would not have sought for me in
my prison. But to this affection he joined wisdom to circumvent
our tyrant, and patience to placate the just wrath of God his
Father. These are the ways of loving which I promised to give
you, but I have set them before you first as shown forth in
Christ, that you might hold them in greater esteem.
4. Learn, O Christian, from the example of Christ the man-
ner in which you ought to love Christ. Learn to love him ten-
derly, to love him wisely, to love him with a mighty love: ten-
derly, that you be not enticed away from him; wisely, that you
be not deceived and so drawn away; and strongly, that you be
not separated from him by any force. Delight yourself in Christ,
who is Wisdom, beyond all else, in order that worldly glory or
69 L a m . 4:20.
fleshly pleasures may not withdraw you from him; and let
Christ, who is the Truth, enlighten you, so that you may not be
led away by the spirit of falsehood and error. That you may not
be overcome by adversities, let Christ, who is the Power of God,
strengthen you. Let charity render your zeal ardent, wisdom
rule and direct it; let constancy make it enduring. Let it be free
from lukewarmness, not timid, nor wanting in discretion. Are
not those the three things prescribed to thee in the law, when
God said: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all
thy soul, and with all thy strength?70 It seems to me, if no other
sense occurs to you better to give to that threefold distinction,
that the love of the heart answers to the earnestness of affec-
tion; the love of the soul, to the purpose or judgment of the
reason; and love with the strength, to the constancy and vigor
of the mind. Love then the Lord thy God with the entire and
full affection of the heart; love him with all the vigilance and all
the foresight of the reason; love him with the full strength and
vigor of the soul, so that for his love you would not fear even to
die; as it is written in a later verse of this canticle: Love is strong
as death, jealousy as hard as hell.11 Let the Lord Jesus be to your
heart sweet and pleasant, so as to destroy the false attractiveness
of the carnal life; let his sweetness overcome the other, as one
nail drives out another. To your understanding and your reason
let him be a wise leader and a guiding light, not only to enable
you to avoid the snares of heretical fraud, and to preserve the
purity of your faith from their cunning devices, but also to make
you cautious to avoid excessive or indiscreet vehemence in your
conduct. Let your love be intrepid and constant, neither yield-
ing to fear nor exhausted by sufferings. Finally, let us love ten-
derly, wisely, ardently, knowing that the love of the heart,
which we call tender, is indeed sweet, but easily led astray—at
least, if it be not accompanied by the love of the soul; while the
latter, again, though it be rational, yet is apt to be weak, unless
courage and ardor go with it to strengthen it.
5. And recognize in clear examples that what I say is true.
When the disciples had heard with dismay their Master, shortly
before his ascension, speaking of his departure from them, they
heard from him: If ye loved me, ye would rejoice, because I said I go
unto the Father.11 What then? Did they not love him for whose de-
parture they were grieving? In a certain sense they loved him,
and yet they did not really love him. That is, they loved him
70 Deut. 6:5. 7i Cant. 8:6. 72 j o h n 14:28.

7O BERNARD OF GLAIRVAUX
tenderly, but not wisely; they loved in a carnal way, not reason-
ably; finally, they loved with all their heart, but not with all
their soul. Their love was against the interests of their salvation;
wherefore he said to them also, It is expedient for you that I go
away,73 blaming their deficiency in wisdom, not in affection.
When, again, he was speaking of his coming death, Peter, as you
remember, who loved him, and desired to retain him, replied,
endeavoring to hinder him; to whom he made answer, so re-
proving him as to show that it was his want of prudence only
that he blamed. For what is the force of the words following:
Thou savorest not the things which be of God™ but, Thou lovest not
wisely, as following the impulse of human affection against the
design of God? And he even called him Satan, inasmuch as in
seeking to hinder the Saviour from dying he was an adversary
of salvation, though unknowingly. And, therefore, having been
thus corrected, he no longer opposed himself to the Saviour's
death when the sad prophecy of it was again made by him, but
declared that he would die with him. But that promise he did
not fulfill, because he had not yet attained to the third degree of
love, which consists in loving God with all our strength. He had
learned to love [God] with all his soul, but he was still weak; he
knew well what he ought to do, but was without the help which
would enable him to perform it; he was not ignorant of the mys-
tery [of salvation] but he shrank from martyrdom. That love
was plainly not strong as death, which yielded to [the fear of]
death; but afterward it became so, when being, according to the
promise of Jesus Christ, endued with power from on high, he
began to love with courage so great that, having been forbidden
in the council of the Jews to preach the adorable name of Jesus,
he replied firmly to those who forbade him, We ought to obey God
rather than men.15 Then, indeed, he loved God at length with all
his power, since he did not spare his own life for that love. For
greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his
friends',76 and he laid down his life at that time, though he did
not actually give it up. To be not drawn away by flattery, nor
seduced by artifices, nor violently removed from it by injuries
and outrages, that is to love God with all the mind, with all the
soul, and with all the strength.
6. And notice that that love of the heart is in a manner car-
nal, with which the heart of man is affected toward Christ
according to the flesh, and toward the actions which he did or
73 John 16:7. 74 Mark 8:33.
75 Acts 5:29. 76 John 15:13.
commanded while in the flesh. A person who is filled with that
love is easily touched with any discourse which dwells on that
subject. There is nothing he listens to more willingly, reads more
attentively, recalls oftener to memory, meditates upon with
greater enjoyment. His sacrifices of prayer receive from it a new
perfection, and resemble, as it were, victims as fat as they are
beautiful. As often as he prays, the image of the God-man arises
before him, either in His birth or His infancy, either in His
teaching of His death, His resurrection, or His ascension; and
all these, or similar images, necessarily animate the soul to the
love of holiness, drive away fleshly vices, put to flight tempta-
tions, and calm desires. I consider that a principal cause why
God, who is invisible, willed to render himself visible in the
flesh, and to dwell as a man among men, was to draw, in the
first place, to the salutary love of his sacred flesh all the affec-
tions of carnal men who were unable to love otherwise than in
a carnal manner, and so by degrees to draw them to a pure and
spiritual affection. Were not those, for instance, who said to
Jesus, Behold, we have left all and followed thee,11 still in this [first]
degree of love? They had left all things for the sole love of the
bodily presence of Jesus, so that they were not able even to listen
with equanimity to the announcement of his salutary Passion
and death as near at hand, and even afterward it touched them
with a profound sadness to look up to the glory of his ascension.
For this reason it was that he said to them: Because I have said
these things unto you, sorrow hath filled your heart.1* Thus in the
meantime he had drawn them away, and kept them, from every
carnal affection by the grace of his personal presence in the
flesh.
7. But he afterward pointed out to them a higher degree of
love, when he said, It is the Spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth
nothing.19 I think that he who said, Though we have known Christ
after theflesh,yet now henceforth know we him no more,*0 and perhaps
the prophet also, notwithstanding [that he lived before Christ],
when he said, The Spirit before our face was Christ the Lord, stood
upon this higher ground; for that which he adds, Under thy
shadow shall we live among the Gentiles,*1 it seems that he speaks in
the name of those who are beginning to rest at least in the
shadow, since they do not feel themselves to be capable of sus-
taining the heat of the sun; and, being nourished with the sweet-
ness of the flesh, are not as yet capable of perceiving the things
77 Matt. 19:27. 78 John 16:6. 79 John 6:64 (63).
81
so II Cor. 5:16. Lam. 4:20.
which are of the Spirit of God. By the shadow of Christ I suppose
to be meant his flesh, with which Mary was overshadowed,82 so
that it was to her as a veil to temper the heat and light of the
Spirit. Let him be consoled then with the devotion of the flesh
who has not as yet the life-giving Spirit, or, at least, who has
him not in the manner of those who say: The Spirit before ourface
was Christ the Lord, and, Though we have known Christ after the
flesh,yet now henceforth know we him no more.83 For it is assuredly
not without the Spirit that Christ is loved, even in the flesh,
though he be not loved in his fullness [thus]. And of this devo-
tion the measure is this, that the sweetness of it occupies the
whole heart; draws it entirely to itself from all love of the flesh
or of carnal things, and frees it from their temptations; this it is
to love with all the heart. Otherwise, if I prefer to the flesh of
my Lord any ties of relationship, or any pleasure that I may
receive—I mean in such a way as to be able to perform fewer of
those good works which he has taught me by word and by ex-
ample while he abode in the flesh—does it not plainly appear
that I do not love him with all my heart, since it is divided, and
I seem to have given a part to the love of him, and a part to the
love of myself? For he himself says, He that loveth father or mother
more than me is not worthy of me; and he that loveth son or daughter
more than me is not worthy of me.*4 Therefore, to express it briefly,
to love Jesus with the whole heart is to prefer the love of his
most sacred flesh to all things which engage our affections or our
vanity, either in our own self, or that of another; in which I
equally comprehend the glory of the world also, because it is
essentially carnal; and those who delight in it are, without
doubt, carnally minded.
8. But yet such devotion toward the flesh of Christ is a gift of
the Holy Spirit, and a great gift; yet I must call such love carnal,
at least in comparison with that other affection, which has re-
gard, not so much to the Word as flesh, as to the Word as wis-
dom, as righteousness, as truth, as holiness, goodness, virtue,
and all other perfections of whatever kind. For Christ is all these,
inasmuch as by God he is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness,
andsanctification, and redemption.85 Does it appear to you that two
persons have equal and similar love toward Christ, of whom the
one sympathizes indeed piously with his sufferings, is moved to a
lively sorrow by them, and easily softened by the memory of all
that he endured; who feeds upon the sweetness of that devotion,
and is strengthened thereby to all salutary, honorable, and
82 Luke 1:35. " II Cor. 5:16. 84 Matt. 10:37. 85 I Cor. 1:30.
pious actions; while the other, being always fired by a zeal for
righteousness, having everywhere an ardent passion for truth,
and earnestly desiring wisdom, prefers above all things sanctity
of life, and a perfectly disciplined character; who is ashamed of
ostentation, abhors detraction, knows not what it is to be en-
vious, detests pride, and not only avoids but dislikes and de-
spises every kind of worldly glory; who vehemently hates and
perseveres in destroying in himself every impurity of the heart
and of the flesh; and lastly, who rejects, as if it were naturally,
all that is evil, and embraces all that is good? If you compare
these two types of affection, does it not appear to you that the
second is plainly the superior? and that in comparison with it
the former is in a manner carnal?
9. Yet that love, by which a carnal life is shut out, and the
world is contemned and overcome, is good, though it be carnal.
In that type of affection it becomes rational as it makes progress,
and it is perfected when it becomes spiritual. It is called rational
when in all the sentiments cherished regarding Christ the pro-
portion of the faith (ratio fidei) is so carefully observed that no
deviation is made from the pure doctrine of the Church by any
apparent similarity to truth, nor by any snare of heretical or
diabolical deception. As also in our personal conduct this cau-
tion must be observed, that the bounds of discretion be not ex-
ceeded through the influence of superstition, or of levity, or of
the zeal of an unregulated disposition. And this it is to love God
with all the soul, as I have already said. If to this be added force
so great, and an assistance so powerful, as that of the Holy
Spirit, so that neither troubles nor sufferings, however violent,
nor even the fear of death, can ever cause the desertion of
righteousness, then God is loved with all the strength, and that
is spiritual love. And I think this name peculiarly suitable to
such love, because of the fullness of the Spirit which so particu-
larly distinguishes it. 86 But I think that these observations may
suffice with regard to that saying of the bride: Therefore have the
virgins loved thee beyond measure.*1 May our Lord Jesus Christ, who
is our Guardian, deign to open to us the treasures of his mercy,
that we may be able to expound the words which follow, Who
liveth and reigneth with the Father, in the unity of the Holy
Spirit, one God forever and ever. Amen.
86
Cf. this classification (in sec. 6 ff.) of the degrees of love as carnal, rational,
and spiritual with that of On the Love of God, chs. 8 ff., and Letter, XI, 8;
cf. Berliere, L'ascise, pp. 101-03; Pourrat, Christian Spirituality, Vol. II,
87 C f C a n t
PP- 3°-33- - - i : 2 (3)-
THAT THE SOUL, SEEKING GOD, IS ANTICI-
PATED BY HIM: AND IN WHAT CONSISTS
THAT SEARCH FOR GOD IN WHICH IT IS
THUS ANTICIPATED (SERMON LXXXIV ON
THE SONG OF SONGS)
THE TEXT **
By Night on My Bed I Sought Him Whom My Soul Loveth.—

Cant. 3:1
It is a great good to seek God. I think that, among all the bless-
ings of the soul, there is none greater than this. It is the first of
the gifts of God; the last degree of the soul's progress. By no
virtue is it preceded; to none does it give place. To what virtue
is that added which is not preceded by any? And to which
should that give way which is the consummation of all virtues?
For what virtue can be ascribed to him who is not seeking God,
or what limit prescribed to one who is seeking him? Seek his face
evermore, says the psalmist; 89 nor do I think that when a soul
has found him, it will cease from seeking. God is sought, not by
the movement of the feet, but by the desires of the heart; and
when a soul has been so happy as to find him, that sacred desire
is not extinguished, but, on the contrary, is increased. Is the
consummation of the joy the extinction of the desire? It is
rather to it as oil poured upon a flame; for desire is, as it were,
a flame. This is, indeed, the case. The joy will be fulfilled; but
the fulfilment will not be the ending of the desire, nor therefore
of the seeking. But think, if you can, of this earnest love of seek-
ing God as being without any deprivation of him, and of the
desire for him as without anxiety or trouble of mind. His pres-
ence excludes the one, and the abundance of his graces pre-
vents the other.
2. But now observe why I have made these introductory
remarks. It is that every soul among you that is seeking God
88 Also i n t h e translation o f S. J . Eales, Works, V o l . I V , p p . 5 1 1 - 1 5 . Gf.
M P L 183: 1184-87. Gf. Petry, No Uncertain Sound, p p . 162-67. Cf. also the
translation b y the Priest o f M o u n t Melleray, V o l . I I , p p . 4 9 5 - 5 0 2 .
89 Ps. 104 (105)14.
74
THAT THE SOUL, SEEKING GOD 75
should know that it has been anticipated by him, and has been
sought by him before it began to seek him. For without this
knowledge it might be that out of a great blessing might arise
great harm, if, when it has been filled with the good gifts of the
Lord, it treats those gifts as if they had not been received from
him, and so does not render to God the glory of them. It is,
doubtless, in this way that some who appeared very great before
men, because of the graces which had been conferred upon
them, were counted as the least before God, inasmuch as they
did not render back to him the glory which was due on their
account. But in saying this I have used inadequate terms. To
spare you, I have spoken of "greatest" and of "least," but I have
not thus expressed my thought in all its force. I will make
clearer the distinction which I have tried to mark. I ought to
have said that he who is the best of men becomes in this way the
worst. For it is a thing certain and without doubt that such a
person becomes as blamable as he before was praiseworthy, if he
ascribe to himself the praise of that which was excellent in him.
For this is one of the worst of crimes. Someone will perhaps say,
"God forbid that I should be of that mind; I fully recognize that
by the grace of God I am what I am; but suppose that a person
should try to take for himself a little spark of glory for the grace
that he has received, is he, therefore, a thief and a robber?" Let
one who speaks thus listen to the words: Out of thine own mouth
will I judge thee, thou wicked servant.90 For what can be more
wicked than the servant usurping to himself the glory which be-
longs to his Lord?
3. By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth. The soul
seeks the Word, but it had been previously sought by the Word.
For otherwise, when it had been once driven out or cast forth
from the presence of the Word, it would have returned no more
to obtain the sight of the good things it had lost if it had not
been sought by the Word. Our soul, if abandoned to itself, is
a spirit which goes to and fro, but does not return. Listen to a
fugitive and wandering soul, and learn what it complains of,
and what it seeks: / have gone astray like a lost sheep: seek thy
servant.91 O man, dost thou desire to return? But if that depends
upon thy own will, why dost thou entreat help? Why dost thou
ask for from another what thou hast in abundance in thy own
self? It is plain that he does desire this, and is not able to per-
form it; he is a spirit which goes to and fro, and returns not;
91
90 Luke 19:22. Ps. 118 (ng):i76.
though he who has not even the wish to return is farther re-
moved still. Yet I would not say that the soul which longs to
return, and desires to be sought, is wholly exposed and aban-
doned. For from whence comes this willingness which is in it?
It comes, if I do not mistake, from its having been already
sought and visited by the Word; nor is that visitation fruitless,
since it has so worked in the soul as to produce that good will
without which a return would not be possible. But it does not
suffice to be sought once only, so great is the languor of the soul,
and so great the difficulty of the return. What if the will of a
soul is to return? The will lies inoperative if it be not supported
by the power to do so. For, To will is present with me, says the
apostle, but how to perform that which is good I find not.92 What is it,
then, that the psalmist seeks in the passage that I have quoted?
He plainly seeks nothing else than to be sought: which he would
not seek if he had not been sought; and yet again, which he
would not seek if he had been sought sufficiently. This latter
grace, indeed, is what he entreats: Seek thy servant;93 that is, that
what it has been granted to him to desire it may be granted to
him also perfectly to attain, according to the good pleasure of
God.
4. Yet it does not seem to me that the present passage is
capable of being applied to a soul such as this, which has not
attained the second grace, and, though desiring to approach
Him whom she loves, has not the ability to do so. For how can
the words which follow be made to apply to such a soul; namely,
that she rises and goes about the city in the streets, and in the
broad ways seeks her Beloved,94 seeing that she herself needs to
be sought? Let her do this as she is able; only let her remember
that, as she was first loved, so she was first sought; and to that
she owes it that she herself loves and is engaged in seeking. Let
us, too, pray, beloved, that those mercies may speedily antici-
pate us, for we are brought into extreme need of them. But I do
not say this of you all; for I know that very many of you are
walking in the love wherewith Christ hath loved us, and are
seeking him in simplicity of heart. But there are some (I say it
with sorrow) who have not yet given us any mark of this saving
and preventing grace being in them, and therefore no sign of
their salvation; they are men who love their own selves, not the
Lord, and seek their own interests, not those of Jesus Christ.
5. I have sought, says the bride, him whom my soul loveth. It is to
92 Rom. 7:18. 93 p s . n 8 (119) 1176. ** Cant. 3:2.

THAT THE SOUL, SEEKING GOD 77
this that the goodness of Him who has anticipated you in seek-
ing you and loving you first—it is to this that his goodness is
calling and arousing you. You would not seek him at all, O
soul, nor love him at all, if you had not been first sought and
first loved. You have been anticipated by a twofold benediction,
that of love and of seeking. The love is the cause of the seeking;
the seeking is the fruit and the clear proof of the love. You have
been loved, so that you might not fear that you were sought for
to be punished; you were sought for, that you might not com-
plain that you were loved to no purpose. Each of these two great
and unmistakable favors has given you courage, has removed
shyness and timidity, has touched your feelings, and disposed
you to return. Hence arises that zeal and ardor in seeking Him
whom thy soul loveth; because, just as you were not able to seek
him, until you had first been sought, so now that you have been
sought, you are not able to do otherwise than seek him.
6. Again, never forget whence it is that you have come
hither. And that I may apply the better to myself what has been
said (which is the safer course), is it not thou, O my soul, who,
having left thy first Bridegroom, by whose side all had been well
with thee, hast broken the faith first pledged to him, and gone
after others? And now that thou hast sinned with them to the
full, and art perhaps fallen into contempt with them, dost thou
impudently and with effrontery desire to return to him to whom
thou hast behaved with so much pride and insolence? What?
when thou art fit only to hide thyself, dost thou seek the light,
and though more deserving of correction than favor, dare to run
unto the Bridegroom? Wonderful it will be if you do not find a
judge to condemn you instead of a husband to receive you.
Happy is he who shall hear his soul replying to these reproaches:
I do not fear because I love, and also I am loved; nor could I
have loved unless He had first loved me. Let those fear who
have no love; but for the soul that loves there is nothing to be
feared. How can those who have no love do otherwise than be
under constant apprehension of injury? But because I love, I no
more doubt that I am loved than I doubt of my own love; nor
can I possibly fear his countenance whose affection for me I
have assuredly felt. In what have I felt it, do you inquire? In
this: that not only has he sought me, unhappy as I am, but has
caused me to seek him, and to feel sure of succeeding in my
search. Why should I not respond to him in his search to whom
in his affection I respond? Why should he be angry at my seek-
ing him, who, when I showed contempt for him, forgave it? He
sought me when I contemned him; why should he contemn me
when I seek him? Benign and gentle is the Spirit of the Word,
and gentle is his greeting to me; he makes me aware of his kind-
ness toward me; he whispers to me and convinces me of the
earnest love of the Word for me, which cannot be hidden from
him. For he searches the deep things of God, and knows that the
divine thoughts are thoughts of peace and not purposes of ven-
geance. How can I be otherwise than encouraged to seek him
who have had experience of his clemency, and am persuaded of
his reconciliation with me?
7. My brethren, to think seriously of these truths is to be
sought by the Word; to be persuaded of them is to be found by
him. But not all are capable of receiving that Word. What shall
we do for the little children among us—I mean those who are
still in the stage of beginners (incipientes), and yet are far from
being without understanding (insipientes), since they possess al-
ready the beginning of wisdom, being subject one to the other
in the fear of Christ? How, I say, shall we cause them to believe
that the spiritual life of the bride is marked by such experiences
as these, since they know nothing as yet of such feelings them-
selves? But I send them to one to whom they cannot refuse cre-
dence. Let them read in a book [of Scripture] that which they
fail to discern in the heart of a fellow man, and therefore will not
believe. For it is written in one of the prophets: If a man put away
his wife, and she go from him, and become another marts, shall he return
unto her again? shall not that land be greatly polluted? but thou hast
played the harlot with many lovers, yet return again to me, saith the
Lord.95 They are the words of the Lord, and it is not permitted
to doubt or hesitate. Let them believe what they have not ex-
perienced, that by the merit of their faith they may one day
attain the fruit of experience. I think that now it has been suffi-
ciently explained what it is to be sought by the Word, and how
this is necessary, not for the Word but for the soul, so that the
soul that has experienced this knows him both more fully and
more happily. It remains to be treated of in the next discourse
how souls that thirst for Christ seek him by whom they have
been sought; or rather that we should learn that from her who
is brought before us in these verses as seeking Him whom her
soul loveth, him who is the Bridegroom of the soul, Jesus Christ
our Lord, who is above all, God blessed forever. Amen.
95
Jer. 3:1.
The Victorines
Hugh (c. iog6-ii4i)
Richard (c. 1123-1173)
Adam (d. ng2)
INTRODUCTION
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES
| H E ABBEY OF ST. V I C T O R , HOME OF THE AUGUS-

tinian canons regular in Paris, was founded by William
of Champeaux between 1108 and 1110. Here spiritual
fervor inclining toward total contemplation was closely knit to
intensive intellectual ardor. William, thinking to start a house
of prayer, found himself, at the behest of the Bishop of Paris,
establishing a school. This was chartered in n 13. Rapidly
attracting international attention, this refuge for the harmoni-
ous union of intellect and spirit flourished under William, the
Abbot Gilduin, and especially under Hugh.
Hugh (c. 1096-1141), possibly Flemish, probably a Saxon,
came to St. Victor at about eighteen years of age. Having
begun his training at the abbey of Hamersleben, he continued
it at St. Victor, where he was in 1133 charged with the
direction of studies. Surprisingly little is known of his life
beyond his large scholarly and spiritual productivity and
the high esteem in which he was held at the time of his death
in 1141.
Richard, born in Scotland at an undetermined date (c. 1123),
took the canon's vow at St. Victor and made his profession to
Abbot Gilduin. An appreciative disciple of Hugh, "the second
Augustine," he became known for both knowledge and dis-
ciplined piety. He was made subprior in 1159 and prior in 1162.
Serving under the undisciplined abbot the English-born Ervi-
sius, Richard fought against spiritual relaxation and liturgical
deterioration. This is established in a new clarity by some re-
cently published works. His predominantly contemplative writ-
ings reflect an inner serenity quite removed from the outer tur-
moil of Ervisius' administration. There remained but a few
79
8o THE VICTORINES
months of outer peace, after the abbot's ejection in 1172, until
Richard's death in 1173.
Adam the Breton (d. 1192) has with some reason been de-
nominated the "greatest poet of the Middle Ages." He came to
St. Victor around 1130. His liturgical sequences imparted to
mystical contemplation its highest artistic form. Not exclusively
a poet, he stood in his own right as an author and as a person
within the Victorine tradition of scholarship and piety. His
liturgical poems, however, and not his studies on Jerome or his
exegetical Summa, gave him immortality. One of his most beauti-
ful series commemorated (1173) the martyrdom and canoniza-
tion of Thomas a Becket, archbishop of Canterbury, who had
preached at St. Victor in 1169.
On the intellectual and spiritual climate of St. Victor, see G.
Dumeige, Richard de Saint-Victor et Videe chretienne de Vamour,
Paris, 1952, pp. T 1-35; also DS II, 1961 ff. Excellent notices and
bibliographies on Hugh are to be found in J. de Ghellinck, Le
mouvement theologique du xiie siecle, 26. ed., Paris, 1948, pp. 185 ff.,
and in his Lessor de la litterature latine au xiie siecle, Paris, 1946,
Vol. I, pp. 50 ff. His role in medieval Bible study is intensively
analyzed in B. Smalley, The Study of the Bible in the Middle Ages,
Philosophical Library, New York, 1952, pp. 83 ff. See C. H.
Buttimer, Hugonis de Sancto Victore Didascalion, de Studio Legendi,
Washington, D.C., 1939. Note C. Spicq, Esquisse d'une histoire de
Vexegese latine au moyen age, J. Vrin, Paris, 1944. A good anthol-
ogy of Hugh, Richard, and Adam in German, with a helpful
introduction, is Die Viktoriner: Mystische Schriften, edited by Paul
Wolff, Vienna, 1936. There is a useful study by F. L. Battles,
"Hugo of Saint-Victor as a Moral Allegorist," Church History,
Vol. 18, no. 4 (December, 1949), pp. 220-240. Consult F. Ver-
net, "Hughes de Saint-Victor," Dictionnaire de theologie catholique,
Vol. VII (1922), cols. 240-308. There are suggestive treatments
by H. O. Taylor, The Mediaeval Mind, Harvard University
Press, Cambridge, 1949, V o 1 - n > PP- 86 ff., 386 ff. Cf. F. Cayr6,
Patrologie, Vol. II, pp. 437 ff. Hugh's Opera are in MPL 175-
177. Consult B. Haureau's, Les ceuvres de Hugues de St.-Victor:
essai critique, 2d ed., Paris, 1886. Gilson, History, pp. 633 ff., has
excellent bibliographies and notes on the Victorines.
Pourrat, Christian Spirituality, Vol. II, pp. 104 ff., is important.
Note also M . Grabmann, Die Geschichte der scholastischen Methode,
INTRODUCTION 8l
Freiburg i/B, 1911, pp. 229 ff. For detailed, critical analyses of
Richard's works and the most recent literature, as well as
modern editions of key sources, consult Dumeige, Richard de
Saint-Victor, above, and J. Chatillon, W. J. Tulloch, and J.
Barthelemy, editors and translators, Richard de Saint-Victor, Ser-
mons et opuscules spirituels inedits: I, Vedit d'Alexandre ou les trois
processions, Paris, 1951. See Richard's Opera omnia, MPL 196, in-
cluding the "Notice" of M. Hugonin and the account of John
of Toulouse. The bulk of the Benjamin Minor and Benjamin Major
is edited in the German of P. Wolff, Die Viktoriner. See also
Ghellinck, Smalley, Spicq, above. Compare G. Fritz, in the
Diet, de theoL cath., Vol. 13 (1937), cols. 2676-2695. An exem-
plary study is that of J. Ebner, "Die Erkenntnislehre Richards
von St. Viktor," Beitrage zur Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelal-
ters, Minister i/W, 1917, Vol. XIX, no. 4. Suggestive is J. A.
Robilliard, "Les six genres de contemplation chez Richard de
Saint-Victor et leur origine platonicienne," Revue des sciences
philosophiques et theologiques, Vol. 28 (1939), pp. 229-233. Consult
F. Cohrs, "Richard von St. Viktor," Realenzyklopedie fur pro-
testantische Theologie, Vol. 16, pp. 749-754. On Adam see, Wolff,
Die Viktoriner, pp. 43-44, 308-336; MPL 196:1421 ff.
SYNOPSIS
Doctrinally in sympathy with Bernard, Hugh fostered in sane

interrelationship the claims of reading or teaching, meditation,
prayer, contemplation, and action. Looking to the eternal joys
of divine love, one joins contemplation here below to the exer-
cise of charity. Contemplation presupposes learning. "True
learning in everything shows nothing in learning to be useless,"
is a basic tenet of his Didascalion: de studio legendi (VI, 3), his
treatise on what and how to read. In this work he recalls refrac-
tory science to the Scriptural designs of Augustine's De doctrina.
I n his De sacramentis christianae jidei, he lays down his theological
Summa. In these together, as in his books on The Moral Ark of
Noah and The Mystical Ark of Noah, and in his commentaries on
Dionysius, he shows the clear influence of Augustine, Gregory,
and the Neoplatonists. Throughout his writings we sense his
catholicity of intellect and spirit, his utilization of the liberal
arts put at the service of the Scriptures and spiritual research.
Mystic that he was, Hugh did not have recourse to artificial
categories of "exceptional experience" and "revelation." From
natural things he deduces allegorical significance, even as he
6—L.M.M.
82 THE VIGTORINES
teaches the soul how to find inner peace and unity through con-
templative exercises. The world of matter suggests the world of
spirit. The Scriptures unlock the correspondence of the material
and the spiritual with instruction in the mystical significance to
be attached to natural phenomena.
It is fitting that the present anthology emphasize Hugh's
searching the Scriptures for the allegorical key to cosmic truth,
for the symbolic light revealing the sacrament of the divine
working. One may profitably mount with him in the way of
cogitation, meditation, and contemplation. It is imperative that
we accompany him in the joint pilgrimage of knowledge and
love. The heart must be inquired into and the conversation of
man with his soul must be reverently observed until the divine
Presence rules supreme. As he points out in the prologue to the
great work on The Moral Ark of Noah, we must trace to their
source the vicissitudes arising in the heart of man and show how
the human mind can be brought to stable peace therein. This is
possession of, and by, God.
Hugh points the way for all the Victorines in the soul's prep-
aration for contemplative experience. There must be a long,
hard apprenticeship of moral purification from the vices and
inculcation of the virtues. The soul has to discover, gradually,
how to recede from sensible reality and from the realm of im-
ages that distract its inner vision. Ultimately, if slowly, the soul
will learn to re-enter itself, to experience self-knowledge, and,
finally, to transcend itself on the way to God, who lies beyond it.
Hugh's way is that of sacramental life, of the cryptic universe
unfolded, of God's love demonstrated in creation and restora-
tion, of love's exercise prepared for by outer and inner knowl-
edge.
From Hugh, Richard accepts the bequest of self-inquiry and
self-knowledge. His work Benjamin Minor outlines the way to
contemplation.1 Painfully the soul seeks liberation from its pas-
sions, release from the prison house of sense images. Slowly it
learns how to use its reason with discretion. Employing that
reason, it finds in its "invisibles" the image and mirror of God's
own. Looking admiringly at the beauty within itself, the soul
feels a growing urge to discern that which is above it. It begins
to know itself better and to appreciate increasingly the splen-
dors of the Deity reflected in its hidden recesses.
Then in a flash, as it were, and in God's own time comes the
1
The treatise is in MPL 196:1-64; also in large part in Wolff, Die Viktoriner,
PP- 34-365 131 ff.
INTRODUCTION 83
purely gratuitous inrush of divine contemplation. Years having
been passed in productive householding with Leah, Zilpah, and
Bilhah—prolific spouses all—there comes at last the fruitful co-
habitation with Rachel. She first bears Joseph, that representa-
tive of discretion by which reason discerns true good. Only then
is Benjamin born. Contemplation is symbolized by the youngest
son because it is the last fruit of the spirit. Elder sons who signify
the disciplining in the virtues and God's preparatory gifts must
precede him. This is the readying of the spirit for contemplative
fruition. The soul is a mirror of godly realities. But it can reflect
godly things only when it is wholly purified. Contemplation is
the goal of purification. The Benjamin Minor, having set forth
as its objective the outlining of the soul's preparation for con-
templation, gives briefly the character of the mystical apogee
itself. Reason, having had its respected role to this point, will,
finally, be superseded by the contemplative experience. This
brings a totally different kind of knowledge, one not only above,
but even in opposition to, the old.2 Contemplation, proper, is
therefore the theme of the Benjamin Major.3
This work concerns itself first with the six genera of contem-
plation subdivided finally from three types probably suggested
by Boethius.4 Here is the ascending order of the soul's progres-
sion from the outward, inward; from the inward, upward; and
beyond. According to Boethius' classification basically adopted
by Richard, the human spirit contemplates the categories of
Sensibles, Intelligibles, and Intellectibles. Each of these three is
now expanded to include two genera, the first and lowest pre-
occupied with (1) visible things and (2) the reasons for such.
The second, higher, group concerns (3) the qualities of invisible
things seen by their likeness with visible things and (4) things of
the angelic as well as the human spirit. The third and highest
bracket introduces (5) the divine nature and (6) the Trinity. 5
Richard in Book I, chapter 6, of his Benjamin Major, outlines
his types of contemplation from bottom to top in terms of that
which is (1) in the imagination according to the imagination
alone; (2) that which is in the imagination according to reason;
(3) that in the reason according to imagination; (4) that in the
2 Benjamin Minor, caps. 86-87; in MPL 196:61-64.

3 MPL 196:63-202; Wolff, op. cit., pp. 35 ff., 197 ff.
4 See the article of Robilliard cited in the Bibliographical Essay, above.
5 The most profound analysis of Richard's thought is that of Ebner's article,
above. On the six genera see Ebner, op. cit., pp. 105-20. Especially perti-
nent are chs. 6-7 of Book I, Benjamin Major, MPL 196:70-73.
84 THE VICTORINES
reason according to reason; (5) that above but not opposed to
the reason; and (6) that beyond and even against reason.
In his seventh chapter of Book I, Richard revises the old
Boethian categories into Sensibles, Intelligibles, and Intellecti-
bles. With these he now associates his own interplay of imagina-
tion, reason, and intelligence, together with the sexpartite
subdivision of chapter 6. The world of Sensibles is considered in
relation to the imagination. The realm of invisibles calls chiefly
upon the reason. The sweep of Intellectible realities, the Trinity
and sacraments of the faith, that elude the grasp of reason, now
summon up the intelligence. Ascending from the world of ex-
ternalities, the soul is preoccupied at first with sensible things.
Then it catches its first glimpse of invisible realities. Bringing
reason into sharper focus, the soul plumbs its own depths and
contemplates the more perfect mirror of Deity found there.
Finally, going beyond itself and concentrating its attention on
God, the soul, now in the realm of Intellectibles, invokes the
power of the intelligence. It has attained contemplation proper,
which, clinging to reason for a time, will at last slough it off in
the truly intellectual regard for the divine nature and the
"Trinity." Obviously, we are here in a fully Augustinian and
Neoplatonic climate.6
The "modes" of contemplation are the main concern of the
fifth and last book of the Benjamin Major. Far from being in
opposition to the six types, they are actually capable of being
co-ordinated with them. These modes are three in number.
They regard: first, the dilatation or enlargement of the mind
(dilatatio mentis); second, elevation of the mind {sublevatio mentis);
and, third, alienation of the mind (alienatio mentis), also referred
to as excessus mentis.1
The first mode, "dilatation," is the simplest and the most
common. Meditation having conduced to a new, spiritual ap-
perception, the soul now embraces instantaneously the objects
that it considers. This is still on the purely natural plane. Ac-
cording to the second mode, "elevation," the intelligence is, for
the one part, enlightened from on high; for the other, it attains
objects that transcend purely human limits (metas industriae
humanae transcendit). Nevertheless, the spirit still does not desert
the plane of its normal functioning. Contrary to this, in the third
mode, that of "alienation" or excessus, the soul not only breaks
its normal bounds and attains realities which are above and be-
6 DS II, 1963. 1 i n MPL 196:167 ff.

INTRODUCTION 85
yond its reason, but it is so absorbed by its object that its facul-
ties fail and it loses consciousness of the external world and of
itself.8
As to these three modes, the first is the fruit of human activity.
The third is situated outside the control of this activity and pro-
ceeds from the working of divine grace alone. The second is the
result of the simultaneous action of divine grace and human
effort.
There are, finally, the four "degrees" of contemplation. These
grow out of Richard's work On the Four Grades of Violent Love.9
The first degree is that of the love that wounds [caritas vulnerans).
The reference is, of course, to the wounds sustained by the lover
in Canticles (chs. 4:9; 5:7). The second is the love that binds or
unites {caritas ligans). The third is that of ravishment—in a word,
excessus mentis {caritas languens). T h e fourth degree (caritas
deficiens) is one of configuration with Christ. The soul here
despises itself utterly for the glory of God. Now, as in Bernard,
action crowns contemplation. The aspersions often cast upon
Richard fail to take account of this consummation found in the
fourth degree of "violent charity." Responsible studies have
shown irrefutably, with close documentation, the role of this
outgiving, socializing love in the thought of Richard.10
The contemplative raptures analyzed in the Benjamin Major
come in the Four Grades to depict that ineffable, selfless love
which the Victorine ideal holds forth and which the Benjamin
Minor prefigures.
8
On the alienatio or excessus, see Benjamin Major, V, 5 ff., MPL 196:174 ff.;
Ebner, op. cit., pp. 100 ff., 108 ff. See also in the Trois processions, above,
pp. 68-73, 80-82, 94 ff., 100 ff., and notes; DS II, 1963-64.
9
In MPL 196:1207-24: De quatuor gradibus violentae charitatis.
10
See Dumeige's excellent study, Richard . . . et Vidde chritienne de Vamour,
especially pp. noff., and, on the last grade, pp. 148-53. Cf. MPL
196:1214 ff., 1220-24.
The Victorines
Hugh (c. 1096-1141)
Richard (c. 1123-1173)
Adam (d. ng2)
HUGH: THE REALM AND THE ROLE OF
LIGHT 11
THE TEXT
XL That Light Illumined Three Days; and Why It Was Made
Before the Sun
Therefore, let no one say: How could there have been day be-
fore the sun was made?, because, before the sun was made, there
was light: "And God saw the light that it was good, and he
called the light Day, and the darkness Night" (Gen. 114 and 5).
And the light itself made those first three days before the sun
was made, and illumined the world. But what does it signify that
the sun was not made immediately from the time that light must
have been made, but that there was light, so to speak, before
clear light? Very possibly the confusion was not worthy of full
light; yet it received some light, that it might see how to proceed
to order and disposition.
XII. The Sacrament of the Divine Works

I think that here a great sacrament is commended, because
every soul, as long as it is in sin, is in a kind of darkness and con-
fusion. But it can not emerge from its confusion and be disposed
to the order and form of justice, unless it be first illumined to see
its evils, and to distinguish light from darkness, that is, virtues
from vices, so that it may dispose itself to order and conform to
truth. Thus, therefore, a soul lying in confusion cannot do with-
out light, and on this account it is necessary first that light be
made, that the soul may see itself, and recognize the horror and
11 Translated from the critical text of Brother Charles Henry Buttimer by
Roy J. Deferrari, Hugh of Saint Victor on the Sacraments of the Christian Faith
{De sacramentis), Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1951, and used by permission
of The Mediaeval Academy of America (Publication No. 58). The passage
is pp. 16-18, drawn from Book One, Part One, chs. 11-12 (cf. MPL
176:195-97). On the mystical significance of the De sacramentis, see Wolff,
Die Viktoriner, pp. 20-25, with texts on pp. 49 ff.
86
HUGH! THE REALM AND THE ROLE OF LIGHT 87
shamefulness of its confusion, and extricate itself, and fit itself to
that rational disposition and order of truth. Now, after all relat-
ing to it has been put in order and has been disposed according
to the exemplar of reason and the form of wisdom, then straight-
way will the sun of justice begin to shine for it, because thus it
has been said in promise: "Blessed are the clean of heart: for
they shall see God" (Matt. 5:8). First, therefore, light is created
in that rational world of the human heart, and its confusion is
illumined that it may be reduced to order. After this, when the
interior of this confusion has been purified, the clear light of
the sun comes and illuminates it. For it is not worthy to con-
template the light of eternity, until it has become clean and
purified, having, as it were, beauty through matter and disposi-
tion through justice.
Thus the law preceded grace; the word, spirit; thus John as a
precursor, Christ; light, light; a lamp, the sun; and Christ him-
self first showed his humanity, that he might thereafter make
manifest his divinity; and everywhere light precedes light; the
light which illumines sinners to justice, that light which illumi-
nates the justified to blessedness. Therefore, light was made be-
fore the brightness of the sun was made manifest; and there was
day; and there were three days when there was light, but no
sun. On the fourth day the sun shone, and that day was bright,
because it had true light, and there was no darkness. Thus no
soul deserves to receive the light of the sun and to contemplate
the brightness of the highest truth, unless these three days pre-
cede in it. Now, on the first day, light is made, and light and
darkness are divided; light is called and is made day, and dark-
ness, night. On the second day the firmament is made and is
placed between the higher waters and the lower waters; and the
firmament is called heaven. On the third day the waters which
are under heaven are gathered into one place; and the dry land
is ordered to appear and put on its dress of plants.
Now all these things represent spiritual examples. Light is
first created in the heart of the sinner, when he begins to recog-
nize himself, so that he distinguishes between light and darkness,
and begins to call light day, and darkness night, and is no longer
of those of whom it is said: "Woe to them that call evil good,
and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for dark-
ness" (Isa. 5:20). After this, however, when he has begun to dis-
tinguish between light and darkness, and also to call light day,
darkness night—-that is, when he has begun truly to condemn
his evils by the judgment of reason, and to choose the works of
88 THE VICTORINES
light, which are good and praiseworthy—there remains for the
firmament to be made in him. This means that he must be
strengthened in his good resolution to distinguish between the
upper and lower waters, namely, the desires of the flesh and of
the spirit, so that as an interposer and mediator he may not
suffer two mutually hostile elements to be mingled or to be
transposed, nor suffer what should be divided to be brought to-
gether, nor what should be placed below to be above, nor what
should be placed above to be below. Finally, there follows in the
order of disposition the work of the third day: the waters which
are under the heavens are to be gathered into one place, lest
the desires of the flesh should be floods, and expand beyond the
bound of necessity, so that the whole man, being recalled to the
status of his nature and disposed according to the order of rea-
son, may collect into one place every desire, to the end that the
flesh may be subject to the spirit and the spirit to the Creator.
Whoever is so ordered is worthy of the light of the sun, so that,
when the mind is directed upward and the desires fixed upon
heavenly things, the light of the highest truth may beam forth
upon the beholder, and no longer "through a glass in a dark
manner" (I Cor. 13:12), but in itself as it is, he may recognize
and know truth.
But this also, which is said, must not be passed over neglect-
fully: "And God saw the light, that it was good; and he divided
the light from the darkness. And he called the light Day, and
the darkness Night" (Gen. 1:4 and 5). For he made and saw;
then he divided and called. Why did he see? He did not wish to
divide before he had seen; he first saw whether it was good; and
then afterward he divided light from darkness; and he called
the light day, and the darkness night. For he will bring all his
work into judgment; and not only the other works which he
made in the light did God see that it was good, but he also saw
the light itself that it was good, and he divided the light and the
darkness. For the evil angel himself at times transforms himself
into an angel of light, and tries to deceive the mind, as if he
were the true light. But this light is not to be divided from dark-
ness, and is not to be called day, but night, because it has indeed
the appearance of light but is true darkness. Therefore, God first
saw the light, whether it was good, so that we may not at once
"believe every spirit, but may try the spirits if they be of God" (I
John 4:1); and when we have seen the light, that it is good, then
let us divide the light from the darkness, and let us call the light
day, and the darkness night. Therefore, we should not only de-
HUGH.* THE REALM AND THE ROLE OF LIGHT 89
sire ardently that light precede in our works, and that our works
be done in the light; but the light itself also must first be seen
and considered diligently; and thus at last when we have seen
the light, that it is good, let us divide light from darkness, and
let us call light day, and darkness night.
H U G H : THE GRADES OF KNOWLEDGE ^
THE TEXT
Three are the modes of cognition (visiones) belonging to the

rational soul: cogitation, meditation, contemplation. It is cogita-
tion when the mind is touched with the ideas of things, and the
thing itself is by its image presented suddenly, either entering
the mind through sense or rising from memory. Meditation is
the assiduous and sagacious revision of cogitation, and strives to
explain the involved, and penetrate the hidden. Contemplation
is the mind's perspicacious and free attention, diffused every-
where throughout the range of whatever may be explored.
There is this difference between meditation and contemplation:
meditation relates always to things hidden from our intelligence;
contemplation relates to things made manifest, according to
either their nature or our capacity. Meditation always is occu-
pied with some one matter to be investigated; contemplation
spreads abroad for the comprehending of many things, even the
universe. Thus meditation is a certain inquisitive power of the
mind, sagaciously striving to look into the obscure and unravel
the perplexed. Contemplation is that acumen of intelligence
which, keeping all things open to view, comprehends all with
clear vision. Thus contemplation has what meditation seeks.
There are two kinds of contemplation: the first is for begin-
ners, and considers creatures; the kind that comes later, belongs
12 The following excerpt from the first of Hugh's Nineteen Sermons on Eccle-
siasteSy based on MPL 175:115 ff., is according to the translation of H. O.
Taylor, The Mediaeval Mind, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 4th ed., 1949,
Vol. II, pp. 388-89. Used by permission of Harvard University Press. Cf.
Battles, op. cit., pp. 227-28. See similar passages from the De modo dicendi et
meditandi (8-9), MPL 176: 879, on the different kinds of cogitation and
contemplation. Cf. Wolff, Die Viktoriner, pp. 28 ff., 48, 76-81.
90
HUGH: THE GRADES OF KNOWLEDGE gi
to the perfect, and contemplates the Creator. In The Proverbs,

Solomon proceeds as through meditation. In Ecclesiastes, he
ascends to the first grade of contemplation. In The Song of
Songs, he transports himself to the final grade. In meditation
there is a wrestling of ignorance with knowledge; and the light
of truth gleams as in a fog of error. So fire is kindled with diffi-
culty on a heap of green wood; but then, fanned with stronger
breath, the flame burns higher, and we see volumes of smoke
rolling up, with flame flashing through. Little by little the damp
is exhausted, and the leaping fire dispels the smoke^ Then victrix
flamma, darting through the heap of crackling wood, springs
from branch to branch, and with lambent grasp catches upon
every twig; nor does it rest until it penetrates everywhere and
draws into itself all that it finds that is not flame. At length the
whole combustible material is purged of its own nature and
passes into the similitude and property of fire; then the din is
hushed, and the voracious fire, having subdued all and brought
all into its own likeness, composes itself to a high peace and
silence, finding nothing more that is alien or opposed to itself.
First there was fire with flame and smoke; then fire with flame,
without smoke; and at last pure fire with neither flame nor
smoke.
HUGH: LOVE THE CURE OF THE SOUL'S
S I C K N E S S i3
T H E TEXT
As I was sitting once among the brethren, and they were asking
questions, and I replying, and many matters had been cited and
adduced, it came about that all of us at once began to marvel
vehemently at the unstableness and disquiet of the human
heart; and we began to sigh. Then they pleaded with me that I
would show them the cause of such whirlings of thought in the
human heart; and they besought me to set forth by what art of
exercise of discipline this evil might be removed. I indeed wished
to satisfy my brethren, so far as God might aid me, and untie the
knot of their questions, both by authority and by argument. I
knew it would please them most if I should compose my matter
to read to them at table.
It was my plan to show first whence arise such violent
changes in man's heart, and then how the mind may be led to
keep itself in stable peace. And although I had no doubt that
this is the proper work of grace, rather than of human labor,
nevertheless I know that God wishes us to co-operate. Besides, it
is well to know the magnitude of our weakness and the mode of
its repairing, since so much the deeper will be our gratitude.
The first man was so created that if he had not sinned he
would always have beheld in present contemplation his Crea-
tor's face, and by always seeing him would have loved him al-
13
The text of this passage from the Prologue of the De area Noe morali is that
of MPL 176:617-20 and the following is from Lib. I, cap. 2, MPL 176:
621. Both are translated in H. O. Taylor, The Mediaeval Mind, 4th ed.,
Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1949, Vol. II, pp. 396-97. Used by permis-
sion of the publishers, Harvard University Press. See Lib. IV, cap. 3, cap.
9, etc., of the De area Noe morali, cols. 667, 677 ff., for the opus creationis et
reparationis.
92
HUGH! LOVE THE CURE OF THE SOUL'S SICKNESS 93
ways, and by loving would always have clung close to him, and
by clinging to him who was eternal would have possessed life
without end. Evidently the one true good of man was perfect
knowledge of his Creator. But he was driven from the face of the
Lord, since for his sin he was struck with the blindness of igno-
rance, and passed from that intimate light of contemplation; and
he inclined his mind to earthly desires, as he began to forget the
sweetness of the divine. Thus he was made a wanderer and fugi-
tive over the earth. A wanderer indeed, because of disordered
concupiscence; and a fugitive, through guilty conscience, which
feels every man's hand against it. For every temptation will
overcome the man who has lost God's aid.
So man's heart which had been kept secure by divine love,
and one by loving One, afterward began to flow here and there
through earthly desires. For the mind which knows not to love
its true good is never stable and never rests. Hence restlessness,
and ceaseless labor, and disquiet, until the man turns and ad-
heres to Him. The sick heart wavers and quivers; the cause of its
disease is love of the world; the remedy, the love of God.
G O D ' S D W E L L I N G IN T H E S O U L T H R O U G H
K N O W L E D G E AND L O V E "
In two ways God dwells in the human heart, to wit, through
knowledge and through love; yet the dwelling is one, since every
one who knows him loves, and no one can love without knowing.
Knowledge through cognition of the faith erects the structure;
love through virtue paints the edifice with color.
14 MPL 176:621; Taylor, op. cit.9 Vol. II, p. 397.
H U G H : THE SOUL'S DEEPEST D E S I R E : **
D I A L O G U E B E T W E E N MAN AND HIS S O U L
THE TEXT
The Soul: What is that sweet thing that comes sometimes to

touch me at the thought of God? It affects me with such vehe-
mence and sweetness that I begin wholly to go out of myself and
to be lifted up, whither I know not. Suddenly I am renewed and
changed; it is a state of inexpressible well-being. My conscious-
ness rejoices. I lose the memory of my former trials, my soul
rejoices, my mind becomes clearer, my heart is enflamed, my
desires are satisfied. I feel myself transported into a new place,
I know not where. I grasp something interiorly as if with the
embraces of love. I do not know what it is, and yet I strive with
all my strength to hold it and not to lose it. I struggle deliciously
to prevent myself leaving this thing which I desire to embrace
forever, and I exult with ineffable intensity, as if I had at last
found the goal of all my desires. I seek for nothing more. I wish
for nothing more. All my aspiration is to continue at the point
that I have reached. Is it my Beloved? Tell me, I pray thee, if
this be he, that, when he return, I may conjure him not to de-
part, and to establish in me his permanent dwelling place?
The Man: Yes, it is truly thy Beloved who visits thee. But he
comes invisible, hidden, incomprehensible. He comes to touch
thee, not to be seen; to intimate his presence to thee, not to be
understood; to make thee taste of him, not to pour himself out
15
The translation of the end of the "Gonfessio" from the Soliloquium de arrha
animae, made from the text of MPL 176:970, is that used in A. Poulain,
The Graces of Interior Prayer, translated from the 6th edition by L. L. Y.
Smith et al., London, 1950, pp. 108-109, a n d u s e d by permission of the
publishers, Routledge & Kegan Paul, Ltd., London, and B. Herder Book
Company, St. Louis, Missouri. Cf. Wolff, Die Viktoriner, pp. 113-14, as
well as a complete text by K. Muller, in Kleine Texte, No. 123.
94
HUGH! THE SOUL'S DEEPEST DESIRE 95
in his entirety; to draw thy affection, not to satisfy thy desire; to
bestow the first fruits of his love, not to communicate it in its
fullness. Behold in this the most certain pledge of thy future
marriage: that thou art destined to see him and to possess him
eternally, because he already gives himself to thee at times to
taste, with what sweetness thou knowest. Therefore in the times
of his absence thou shalt console thyself; and during his visits
thou shalt renew thy courage, which is ever in need of hearten-
ing. We have spoken at great length, O my soul. In conclusion,
I ask thee to think of none but Him, love none but him, listen to
none but him, take hold of none but him, possess none but him.
The Soul: That indeed is what I desire, what I choose; that
is what I long for from the depths of my heart.
RICHARD: THE WAY TO CONTEMPLATION
HERE FOLLOWETH A VERY DEVOUT
TREATISE, NAMED BENJAMIN, OF THE
MIGHTS AND VIRTUES OF MAN'S SOUL,
AND OF THE WAY TO TRUE CONTEMPLA-
TION, COMPILED BY A NOBLE AND
FAMOUS DOCTOR, A MAN OF GREAT
HOLINESS AND DEVOTION, NAMED
RICHARD OF SAINT VICTORS
A TREATISE NAMED BENJAMIN1?
THE TEXT
The Prologue
A great clerk that men call Richard of Saint Victor, in a book
that he maketh of the study of wisdom, witnesseth and saith that
two mights are in a man's soul, given of the Father of Heaven of
whom all good cometh. The one is reason, the other is affec-
tion; through reason we know, and through affection we feel or
love.18
Of reason springeth right counsel and ghostly wits; 19 and of
affection springeth holy desires and ordained feelings. And right
16 E. G. Gardner has pointed out that, of Bernard, Richard of St. Victor, and
Bonaventure, who were the major influences in the development of Eng-
lish mysticism, perhaps Richard ranks first. The text of one of the numer-
ous manuscript adaptations of the Benjamin Minor current in fourteenth
century England serves a double purpose in this anthology. Obviously a
paraphrase-translation of the heart of the Benjamin Minor with certain
liberties taken in free translation, omission, and expansion, this Middle
English text does present the sprawling original in more concentrated
form. Furthermore, it shows us one of the prevailing ways in which the
Latin Richard entered our English mystical tradition in the vernacular.
This 1521 printing by Henry Pepwell, published from the Harleian MS.
1002 by G. Horstman, Richard Rolle of Hampole . . . and His Followers,
London, 1895, Vol. I, pp. 162-72, and edited with notes by E. G. Gardner
in his work The Cell of Self-knowledge, London, 1925, pp. 3-33, is used by
permission of the publishers, Chatto & Windus.
17 The title in the original, Benjamin Minor, recalls the medieval attribution
of contemplative uses to the Vulgate rendering of Ps. 67:28: Ibi Beniamin
adolescentulus, in mentis excessu: "There is Benjamin, a youth, in ecstasy of
mind." Here the Authorized Version reads: "Little Benjamin [with]
their ruler . . ." (Ps. 68:27). Cf. Gardner, Cell of Self knowledge, p. xiv;
Wolff, Die Viktoriner, p. 129.
is The treatise in full, in MPL 196, is cols. 1-64, eighty-seven chapters in all.
Wolff translates a large part, pp. 131-98. The first part of the Prologue
here is from cap. 3 of the original.
19 I.e., spiritual insight: spiritualis sensus,
96
RICHARD: THE WAY TO CONTEMPLATION 97
as Rachel and Leah were both wives unto Jacob, right so man's
soul through light of knowing in the reason and sweetness of
love in the affection is spoused unto God. By Jacob is under-
standen God; by Rachel is understanden reason; by Leah is
understanden affection. Each of these wives, Rachel and Leah,
took to them a maiden: Rachel took Bilhah and Leah took Zil-
pah. Bilhah was a great jangler 20 and Zilpah was ever drunken
and thirsty. By Bilhah is understanden imagination, the which
is servant unto reason, as Bilhah was to Rachel; by Zilpah is
understanden sensuality, the which is servant unto affection, as
Zilpah was to Leah. And so much are these maidens needful to
their ladies that without them all this world might serve them of
nought. For why: without imagination reason may not know
and without sensuality affection may not feel. And yet imagina-
tion cryeth so inconveniently in the ears of our heart that, for
ought that reason her lady may do, yet she may not still her.
And therefore it is that ofttimes when we should pray, so many
divers fantasies of idle and evil thoughts cry in our hearts that on
no wise we may by our own mights drive them away. And thus
it is well proved that Bilhah is a foul jangler. And also the sen-
suality is evermore so thirsty that all that affection her lady may
feel may not yet slake her thirst. The drink that she desireth is
the lust of fleshly, kindly, and worldly delights, of the which the
more that she drinketh the more she thirsteth; for why: for to fill
the appetite of the sensuality all this world may not suffice; and
therefore it is that ofttimes when we pray or think on God and
ghostly things, we would fain feel sweetness of love in our affec-
tion, and yet we may not, for are we so busy to feed the con-
cupiscence of our sensuality; for evermore it is greedily asking,
and we have a fleshly compassion thereof. And thus it is well
proved that Zilpah is evermore drunken and thirsty. And right as
Leah conceived of Jacob and brought forth seven children, and
Rachel conceived of Jacob and brought forth two children, and
Bilhah conceived of Jacob and brought forth two children,
and Zilpah conceived of Jacob and brought forth two children,
right so the affection conceiveth through the grace of God, and
bringeth forth seven virtues; and also the sensuality conceiveth
through the grace of God and bringeth forth two virtues; and
also the reason conceiveth through the grace of God and
bringeth forth two virtues; and also the imagination conceiveth
through the grace of God and bringeth forth two virtues, or two
20
Caps. 5-6: garrulous.
7—L.M.M.
98 THE VIGTORINES
beholdings. And the names of their children and of their virtues
shall be known by this figure that followeth:
Husband: Jacob temporally, God spiritually. Wives to Jacob:
Leah, that is to say, Affection; Rachel, that is to say, Reason.
Maid to Leah is Zilpah, that is to understand, Sensuality; and
Bilhah maiden to Rachel, that is to understand, Imagination.
The sons of Jacob and Leah are these seven that followeth:
Reuben signifieth dread of pain; Simeon, sorrow of sins; Levi,
hope of forgiveness; Judah, love of righteousness; Issacharjoy in
inward sweetness; Zebulun, hatred of sin; Dinah, ordained
shame.
The sons of Jacob and Zilpah, servant of Leah, are these:
Gad, Abstinence; Asher, Patience.
The sons of Jacob and of Rachel are these: Joseph, Discre-
tion; Benjamin, Contemplation.
The sons of Jacob and Bilhah, servant to Rachel, are these:
Dan, sight of pain to come; and Naphtali, sight of joy to come.
In this figure it is shewed apertly of Jacob and of his wives,
and their maidens, and all their children. Here it is to shew on
what manner they were gotten, and in what order:
First, it is to say of the children of Leah; for why: it is read
that she first conceived. The children of Leah are nought else to
understand but ordained affections or feelings in a man's soul;
for why: if they were unordained, then were they not the sons of
Jacob. Also the seven children of Leah are seven virtues, for vir-
tue is nought else but an ordained and a measured feeling in a
man's soul. For then is man's feeling in soul ordained when it is
of that thing that it should be; then it is measured when it is so
much as it should be. These things in a man's soul may be now
ordained and measured, and now unordained and unmeasured;
but when they are ordained and measured, then are they ac-
counted among the sons of Jacob. 21
Capitulum 122
How the Virtue of Dread Riseth in the Affection
The first child that Leah conceived of Jacob was Reuben,
that is, dread; and therefore it is written in the psalm: "The be-
ginning of wisdom is the dread of our Lord God." 23 This is the
first felt virtue in a man's affection, without the which none
21 T h e foregoing is compiled from caps. 1-7 of the original.
22 Gap. 8. 23 ps. n o (III):IO.
other may be had. And, therefore, whoso desireth to have such
a son, him behoveth busily and oft also behold the evil that he
hath done. And he shall, on the one party, think on the great-
ness of his trespass, and, on another party, the power of the
doomsman. Of such a consideration springeth dread, that is to
say Reuben, that through right is cleped 24 "the son of Sight."
For utterly is he blind that seeth not the pains that are to come,
and dreadeth not to sin. And well is Reuben cleped the son of
sight; for when he was born, his mother cried and said, "God
hath seen my meekness." 25 And man's soul, in such a considera-
tion of his old sins and of the power of the doomsman, beginneth
then truly to see God by feeling of dread, and also to be seen of
God by rewarding of pity.26
Capitulum II2?
How Sorrow Riseth in the Affection
While Reuben waxeth, Simeon is born; for after dread it
needeth greatly that sorrow come soon. For ever the more that
a man dreadeth the pain that he hath deserved, the bitterlier he
sorroweth the sins that he hath done. Leah in the birth of
Simeon cried and said, "Our Lord hath heard me be had in
despite." 28 And therefore is Simeon cleped "hearing"; for
when a man bitterly sorroweth and despiseth his old sins, then
beginneth he to be heard of God, and also for to hear the blessed
sentence of God's own mouth: "Blessed be they that sorrow, for
they shall be comforted." 29 For in what hour the sinner sor-
roweth and turneth from his sin, he shall be safe. Thus wit-
nesseth holy Scripture. And also by Reuben he is meeked, and
by Simeon he is contrite and hath compunction of tears; but, as
witnesseth David in the psalm: "Heart contrite and meeked
God shall not despise"; 30 and without doubt such sorrow
bringeth in true comfort of heart.
Capitulum HI n
How Hope Riseth in the Affection
But, I pray thee, what comfort may be to them that truly
dread and bitterly sorrow for their old sins, ought but a true
25
24 Called: vocetur. G e n . 29:32.
26
Per respectum pietatis; h e n c e , " p i t y " i n t h e sense of " p i e t y . "
27 Gap. 9. 28 Gen. 29:33. 29 Matt. 5:5 (4).
31
30 p s . 50:19 (51:17). Gap. 10.
100 THE VIGTORINES
hope of forgiveness? The which is the third son of Jacob, that is
Levi, the which is cleped in the story "a doing to." 32 For when
the other two children, dread and sorrow, are given of God to
a man's soul, without doubt he, this third, that is hope, shall not
be delayed, but he shall be done to; 33 as the story witnesseth of
Levi, that, when his two brethren, Reuben and Simeon, were
given to their mother Leah, he, this Levi, was done to. Take
heed of this word, that he was done to and not given. And
therefore it is said that a man shall not presume of hope of for-
giveness before the time that his heart be meeked in dread and
contrite in sorrow; without these two, hope is presumption, and
where these two are, hope is done to; and thus after sorrow
cometh soon comfort, as David telleth in the psalm that "after
the muchness of my sorrow in my heart," he saith to our Lord,
"thy comforts have gladded my soul." 34 And therefore it is
that the Holy Ghost is called Paracletus, that is, Comforter, for
ofttimes he vouchethsafe to comfort a sorrowful soul.
Capitulum IV35
How Love Riseth in the Affection
From now forth beginneth a manner of homeliness 36 for to
grow between God and a man's soul; and also on a manner a
kindling of love, in so much that ofttimes he feeleth him not only
be visited of God and comforted in his coming, but ofttimes also
he feeleth him filled with an unspeakable joy. This homeliness
and this kindling of love first felt Leah, when, after that Levi
was born, she cried with a great voice and said, "Now shall my
husband be coupled to me." 37 The true spouse of our soul is
God, and then we are truly coupled unto him when we draw
near him by hope and soothfast love. And right as after hope
cometh love, so after Levi was Judah born, the fourth son of
Leah. Leah in his birth cried and said, "Now shall I shrive to
our Lord." 38 And therefore in the story is Judah cleped
"shrift." 39 Also man's soul in this degree of love offereth it
clearly to God, and saith thus, "Now shall I shrive to our Lord."
For before this feeling of love in a man's soul, all that he doth is
done more for dread than for love; but in this state a man's soul
32 Additus, vel additio. 33 Added (cf. Gen. 29:34).
34 p s . 93 (94)119. 35 Caps. 11-13.
36 A kind of intimacy: quaedam familiaritas. 37 Gen. 29:34.
38 Gen. 29:35 (Vulgate): Modo confitebor Domino. 39 Confitens.
feeleth God so sweet, so merciful, so good, so courteous, so true,
and so kind, so faithful, so lovely, and so homely, that he leaveth
nothing in him—might, wit, conning,40 or will—that he offereth
not it clearly, freely, and homely unto Him. This shrift is not
only of sin, but of the goodness of God. Great token of love it is
when a man telleth to God that He is good. Of this shrift speaketh
David full ofttimes in the Psalter, when he saith, "Make it
known to God, for he is good." 41
Lo, now have we said of four sons of Leah. And after this she
left bearing of children till another time; and so man's soul
weeneth that it sufficeth to it when it feeleth that it loveth the
true goods. And so it is enough to salvation, but not to perfec-
tion. For it falleth to a perfect soul both to be inflamed with the
fire of love in the affection, and also to be illumined with the
light of knowing in the reason.
Capitulum V ^
How the Double Sight of Pain and Joy Riseth in the Imagination
Then when Judah waxeth, that is to say, when love and desire
of unseen true goods is rising and waxing in a man's affection,
then coveteth Rachel for to bear some children; that is to say,
then coveteth reason to know these things that affection feeleth,
for as it falleth to the affection for to love, so it falleth to the
reason for to know. Of affection springeth ordained and meas-
ured feelings; and of reason springeth right knowings and clear
understandings. And ever the more that Judah waxeth, that is
to say love, so much the more desireth Rachel bearing of chil-
dren, that is to say, reason studieth after knowing. But who is he
that woteth not how hard it is, and near-hand impossible to a
fleshly soul, the which is yet rude in ghostly studies, for to rise in
knowing of unseeable things,43 and for to set the eye of con-
templation in ghostly things? For why: a soul that is yet rude
and fleshly knoweth nought but bodily things, and nothing
cometh yet to the mind but only seeable things. And, neverthe-
less, yet it looketh inward as it may; and that that it may not see
yet clearly by ghostly knowing, it thinketh by imagination.
And this is the cause why Rachel had first children of her
maiden, than of herself. And so it is that, though all a man's
soul may not yet get the light of ghostly knowing in the reason,
40 Learning. « Ps. 106 (107):i. 42 Gaps. 13-146°.
43 Irwisibilium. See the Benjamin Major, I, 6, 7.
IO2 THE VICTORINES
yet it thinketh it sweet to hold the mind on God and ghostly
things in the imagination. As by Rachel we understand reason,
so by her maiden Bilhah we understand imagination.44 And,
therefore, reason sheweth that it is more profitable for to think
on ghostly things, in what manner so it be—yea, if it be in kin-
dling of our desire with some fair imagination—than it is for to
think on vanities and deceivable things of this world. And,
therefore, of Bilhah were born these two: Dan and Naphtali. 45
Dan is to say sight of pains to come; and Naphtali, sight of joys
to come. These two children are full needful and full speedful
unto a working soul, the one for to put down evil suggestions of
sins and the other for to raise up our wills in working of good
and in kindling of our desires. For as it falleth to Dan to put
down evil suggestions of sin by sight of pains to come, so it
falleth to the other brother Naphtali to raise up our wills in
working of good, and in kindling of holy desires by sight of joys
to come. And therefore holy men, when they are stirred to any
unlawful thing, by inrising of any foul thought, as oft they set
before their mind the pains that are to come; and so they slaken
their temptation in the beginning, ere it rise to any foul delight
in their soul. And as oft as their devotion and their liking in God
and ghostly things cease and wax cold (as ofttimes it befalleth in
this life, for corruption of the flesh and many other skills 46 ), so
oft they set before their mind the joy that is to come. And so they
kindle their will with holy desires, and destroy their temptation
in the beginning, ere it come to any weariness or heaviness of
sloth. And for that 47 with Dan we damn unlawful thoughts,
therefore he is well cleped in the story "doom." 48 And also his
father Jacob said of him thus: "Dan shall deem his folk." 49
And also it is said in the story that, when Bilhah brought forth
Dan, Rachel said thus: "Our Lord hath deemed me," 50 that is
to say, "Our Lord hath evened me unto my sister Leah." And
thus saith reason, when the imagination hath gotten the sight of
pains to come, that our Lord hath evened her with her sister
affection; and she saith thus, for she hath the sight of pains to
come in her imagination, of the which she had dread and sorrow
in her feeling. And then after came Naphtali, that is to say, the
sight of joys to come. And in his birth spake Rachel and said, "I
44 Gaps. 14-16, etc. On the Victorine role of reason and imagination, see
Benjamin Major, I, 7, and Ebner's commentary, op. cit., pp. 29 ff., 38 ff.,
60 ff., 105 ff. 45 Gaps. 18 ff. 46 Reasons.
48
47 Because, since. Jfudicium, i.e., judgment.
50
49 I.e., "judge his people," Gen. 49:16. Gen. 30:6.
RICHARD: THE WAY TO CONTEMPLATION IO3
51
am made like to my sister Leah"; and therefore is Naphtali
cleped in the story "likeness." 52 And thus saith reason that she
is made like to her sister affection. For there as she had gotten
hope and love of joy to come in her feeling, she hath now gotten
sight of joy to come in her imagination. Jacob said of Naphtali
that he was "a hart sent out, giving speeches of fairhead." 53
So it is that, when we imagine of the joys of heaven, we say that
it is fair in heaven. For wonderfully kindleth Naphtali our souls
with holy desires, as oft as we imagine of the worthiness and the
fairhead of the joys of heaven.
Capitulum VI ^
How the Virtues of Abstinence and Patience Rise in the Sensuality
When Leah saw that Rachel her sister made great joy of these
two bastards born of Bilhah her maiden, she called forth her
maiden Zilpah, to put to her husband Jacob, that she might
make joy with her sister, having other two bastards gotten of her
maiden Zilpah. And thus it is seemly in man's soul for to be, that
from the time that reason hath refrained the great jangling of
imagination, and hath put her to be underlout55 to God, and
maketh her to bear some fruit in helping of her knowing, that
right so the affection refrain the lust and the thirst of the sen-
suality, and make her to be underlout to God, and so to bear
some fruit in helping of her feeling. But what fruit may she bear
ought but that she learn to live temperately in easy things, and
patiently in uneasy things? These are they, the children of Zil-
pah, Gad and Asher: Gad is abstinence, and Asher is patience.
Gad is the sooner born child and Asher the latter; for first it
needeth that we be attempered in ourself with discreet absti-
nence, and after that we bear outward disease 56 in strength of
patience. These are the children that Zilpah brought forth in
sorrow; for in abstinence and patience the sensuality is punished
in the flesh; but that that is sorrow to the sensuality turneth to
much comfort and bliss to the affection. And therefore it is that
when Gad was born Leah cried and said, "Happily"; 57 and
51 52
Gen. 30:8. Comparatio vel conversion cap. 22.
53
Gen. 49:21: "Naphtali is a hind let loose; he giveth goodly words." Cap.
54
23. Gaps. 25-26.
55
Participial form of an Old English word meaning "to stoop beneath" or
"submit to." Cf. Wycliffite Bible, Gen. 37:8. 56 Discomfort.
37 Dixit: feliciter (Gen. 30:11).
IO4 THE VICTORINES
therefore Gad is cleped in the story "happiness," or "seeli-
ness." 58 And so it is well said that abstinence in the sensuality is
happiness in the affection. For why: ever the less that the sen-
suality is delighted in her lust, the more sweetness feeleth the
affection in her love. Also after when Asher was born, Leah said,
"This shall be for my bliss"; 59 and therefore was Asher called
in the story "blessed." 60 And so it is well said that patience in
the sensuality is bliss in the affection. For why: ev^r the more
disease that the sensuality suffereth, the more blessed is the soul
in the affection. And thus by abstinence and patience we shall
not only understand a temperance in meat and drink, and suf-
fering of outward tribulation, but also [in] all manner of fleshly,
kindly,61 and worldly delights, and all manner of disease, bodily
and ghostly, within or without, reasonable or unreasonable,
that by any of our five wits torment or delight the sensuality.
On this wise beareth the sensuality fruit in help of affection,
her lady. Much peace and rest is in that soul that neither
is drunken in the lust of the sensuality, nor grutcheth62 in the
pain thereof. The first of these is gotten by Gad and the latter by
Asher. Here it is to wete that first was Rachel's maiden put to
the husband or the maiden of Leah; and this is the skill why.
For truly, but if the jangling of the imagination, that is to say,
the in-running of vain thoughts, be first refrained, without
doubt the lust of the sensuality may not be attempered. And
therefore whoso will abstain him from fleshly and worldly lusts,
him behoveth first seldom or never think any vain thoughts.
And also never in this life may a man perfectly despise the ease
of the flesh, and not dread the disease, but if he have before
busily beholden the meeds and the torments that are to come.
But here it is to wete how that, with these four sons of these two
maidens, the city of our conscience is kept wonderfully from all
temptations. For all temptation either it riseth within by
thought or else without by some of our five wits. But within
shall Dan deem and damn evil thoughts by sight of pain; and
without shall Gad put against false delights by use of abstinence.
Dan waketh 63 within and Gad without; and also their other two
brethren helpen them full much: Naphtali maketh peace within
with Dan, and Asher biddeth Gad have no dread of his enemies.
Dan feareth the heart with ugsomeness of hell, and Naphtali
cherisheth it with behighting 64 of heavenly bliss. Also Asher
59
58 Fdicitas. Gen. 30:13. so Beatus.
62
« Natural. Murmurs, complains. *3 Watches.
64 Promises: fovetpromissis.
helpeth his brother without, so that, through them both, the
wall of the city is not broken. Gad holdeth out ease, and Asher
pursueth disease. Asher soon deceiveth his enemy, when he
bringeth to mind the patience of his father65 and the behighting
of Naphtali, and thus ofttimes ever the more enemies he hath,
the more matter he hath of overcoming* And therefore it is that,
when he hath overcome his enemies (that is to say, the adversi-
ties of this world), soon he turneth him to his brother Gad to
help to destroy his enemies. And without fail, from that he be
come, soon they turn the back, and flee. The enemies of Gad
are fleshly delights; but truly, from the time that a man have
patience in the pain of his abstinence, false delights find no
woning stead 66 in him.
Capitulum VII67
How Joy of Inward Sweetness Riseth in the Affection
Thus when the enemy fleeth and the city is peased,68 then be-
ginneth a man to prove what the high peace of God is that
passeth man's wit. And therefore it is that Leah left bearing of
children unto this time that Gad and Asher were born of Zilpah,
her maiden. For truly, but if it be so that a man have refrained
the lust and the pain of his five wits in his sensuality by absti-
nence and patience, he shall never feel inward sweetness and
true joy in God and ghostly things in the affection. This is that
Issachar, the fifth son of Leah, the which in the story is cleped
"meed." 69 [And well is this joy of inward sweetness cleped
meed] for this joy is the taste of heavenly bliss, the which is the
endless meed of a devout soul, beginning here. Leah, in the
birth of this child, said, "God hath given me meed, for that I
have given my maiden to my husband in bearing of children." 70
And so it is good that we make our sensuality bear fruit in ab-
staining it from all manner of fleshly, kindly, and worldly de-
light, and in fruitful suffering of all fleshly and worldly disease;
therefore our Lord of his great mercy giveth us joy unspeakable
and inward sweetness in our affection, in earnest of the sovereign
joy and meed of the Kingdom of Heaven. Jacob said of Issachar
63 An odd garbling of the original, cap. 33*
66 Dwelling place. 67 Gap. 36.
68 Pacified. 69 Merces, i.e., wages, reward.
70 Gen. 30:18.
106 THE VIGTORINES
that he was "a strong ass dwelling between the terms." 71 And
so it is that a man in this state, and that feeleth the earnest of
everlasting joy in his affection, is as "an ass, strong and dwelling
between the terms"; because that, be he never so filled in soul
of ghostly gladness and joy in God, yet, for corruption of the
flesh in this deadly life, him behoveth bear the charge of the
deadly body, as hunger, thirst, and cold, sleep, and many other
diseases; for the which he is likened to an ass as in body; but as
in soul he is strong for to destroy all the passions and the lusts of
the flesh by patience and abstinence in the sensuality, and by
abundance of ghostly joy and sweetness in the affection. And
also a soul in this state is dwelling between the terms of deadly
life and undeadly life. He that dwelleth between the terms hath
near-hand forsaken deadliness, but not fully, and hath near-
hand gotten undeadliness, but not fully; for whiles that him
needeth the goods of this world, as meat and drink and clothing,
as it falleth to each man that liveth, yet his one foot is in this
deadly life; and for great abundance of ghostly joy and sweet-
ness that he feeleth in God, not seldom but oft, he hath his other
foot in the undeadly life. Thus I trow that Saint Paul felt, when
he said this word of great desire: "Who shall deliver me from
this deadly body?" 72 And when he said thus: "I covet to be
loosed and to be with Christ." 73 And thus doth the soul that
feeleth Issachar in his affection, that is to say, the joy of inward
sweetness, the which is understanden by Issachar. It enforceth
it to forsake this wretched life, but it may not; it coveteth to
enter the blessed life, but it may not; it doth that it may, and
yet it dwelleth between the terms.
Capitulum VIII™
How Perfect Hatred of Sin Riseth in the Affection
And therefore it is that, after Issachar, Zebulun is born, that
is to say, hatred of sin. And here it is to wete why that hatred of
sin is never perfectly felt in a man's affection ere the time that
ghostly joy of inward sweetness be felt in the affection, and this
is the skill 75 : for ere this time was never the true cause of hatred
felt in the affection. For the feeling of ghostly joy teacheth a man
71 Gen. 49:14: Issachar asinus fortis accubans inter terminos; i.e., crouching be-
tween close boundaries, confined within narrow straits—"lying down
between the borders."
72 R o m . 7:24. 73 Phil. 1:23.
74
Gaps. 4 0 - 4 4 . 75 Reason, cause.
what sin harmeth the soul. And all after that the harm in the
soul is felt much or little, thereafter is the hatred measured, more
or less, unto the harming. But when a soul, by the grace of God
and long travail, is come to feeling of ghostly joy in God, then it
feeleth that sin hath been the cause of the delaying thereof. And
also when he feeleth that he may not alway last in the feeling of
that ghostly joy, for the corruption of the flesh, of the which
corruption sin is the cause; then he riseth with a strong feeling
of hatred against all sin and all kind of sin. This feeling taught
David us to have, where he saith in the psalm: "Be ye wroth and
will ye not sin" 76; that is thus to mean: Be ye wroth with the
sin, but not with the kind.77 For kind stirreth to the deed, but
not to sin. And here it is to wete that this wrath and this hatred
is not contrary to charity, but charity teacheth how it shall be
had both in a man's self and in his even Christian 78; for a man
should [not] hate sin [so that he destroy his kind, but so that he
destroy the sin and the appetite of sin] in his kind. And, as
against our even Christian, we ought to hate sin in him, and to
love him; and of this hatred speaketh David in the psalm, where
he saith thus: "With perfect hatred I hated them." ™ And in
another psalm he saith that "he had in hatred all wicked
ways." 80 Thus it is well proved that ere Zebulun was born
Judah and Issachar were both born. For but if a man have had
charity and ghostly joy in his feeling first, he may in no wise feel
this perfect hatred of sin in his affection. For Judah, that is to
say, charity, teacheth us how we shall hate sin in ourself and in
our brethren; and Issachar, that is to say, ghostly feeling of joy
in God, teacheth us why we shall hate sin in ourself and in our
brethren. Judah biddeth us hate sin and love the kind; and
Issachar biddeth us destroy the sin and save the kind; and thus
it falleth for to be that the kind may be made strong in God and
in ghostly things by perfect hatred and destroying of sin. And
therefore is Zebulun cleped in the story "a dwelling stead of
strength." And Leah said in his birth, "My husband shall now
dwell with me" 81; and so it is that God, that is the true husband
of our soul, is dwelling in that soul, strengthening it in the
affection with ghostly joy and sweetness in his love, which
travaileth busily to destroy sin in himself and in others by per-
fect hatred of the sin and all the kind of sin. And thus it is said
how Zebulun is born.
76 Ps. 4:5 (4). 77 Human nature or kind.
78 Fellow Christian. 79 p s . 138 (139) :2i.
so Ps. 118 (ii9):iO4. 81 Gen. 30:20.
108 THE VIGTORINES
Capitulum IX **
How Ordained Shame Riseth and Groweth in the Affection
But though all that a soul through grace feel in it perfect
hatred of sin, whether it may yet live without sin? Nay, sikerly; 83
and therefore let no man presume of himself, when the apostle
saith thus: "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourself,
and soothfastness is not in us." 84 And also Saint Austin saith
that he dare well say that there is no man living without sin.
And, I pray thee, who is he that sinneth not in ignorance? Yea,
and ofttimes it falleth that God suffereth those men to fall full
grievously, by the which he hath ordained other men's errors
to be righted, that they may learn by their own falling how
merciful they shall be in amending of others. And for that oft-
times men fall grievously in those same sins that they most hate,
therefore, after hatred of sin, springeth ordained shame in a
man's soul; and so it is that after Zebulun was Dinah born. As
by Zebulun hatred of sin, so by Dinah is understanden ordained
shame of sin. But wete thou well: he that felt never Zebulun,
felt never yet Dinah. Evil men have a manner of shame, but it
is not this ordained shame. For why: if they had perfect shame
of sin, they should not so customably do it with will and advise-
ment; 85 but they shame more with a foul cloth on their body
than with a foul thought in their soul. But whatso thou be that
weenest that thou hast gotten Dinah, think whether thee would
shame as much if a foul thought were in thine heart, as thee
would if thou wert made to stand naked before the king and all
his royalme; and sikerly else wete it thou right well that thou
hast not yet gotten ordained shame in thy feeling, if so be that
thou have less shame with thy foul heart than with thy foul
body, and if thou think more shame with thy foul body in the
sight of men than with thy foul heart in the sight of the King of
Heaven and of all his angels and holy saints in heaven.
Lo, it is now said of the seven children of Leah, by the which
are understanden seven manner of affections in a man's soul,
the which may be now ordained and now unordained, now
measured and now unmeasured; but when they are ordained
and measured, then are they virtues; and when they are un-
ordained and unmeasured, then are they vices. Thus behoveth
a man have children, that they be not only ordained but also
82 Gap. 45. 83 Assuredly.
85
84 I John 1:8. Deliberate intention.
RICHARD: THE WAY TO CONTEMPLATION log
measured. Then are they ordained when they are of that thing
that they should be, and then are they unordained when they
are of that thing that they should not be; and then are they
measured when they are as much as they should be, and then
are they unmeasured when they are more than they should be.
For why: overmuch dread bringeth in despair, and overmuch
sorrow casteth a man in to bitterness and heaviness of kind,86
for the which he is unable to receive ghostly comfort. And over-
much hope is presumption, and outrageous love is but flattering
and faging,87 and outrageous gladness is dissolution and wanton-
ness, and untempered hatred of sin is woodness.88 And on
this manner, they are unordained and unmeasured, and thus
are they turned into vices, and then lose they the name of
virtues, and may not be accounted amongst the sons of Jacob,
that is to say, God: for by Jacob is understanden God, as it is
shewed in the figure before.
Capitulum X ™
How Discretion and Contemplation Rise in the Reason
Thus it seemeth that the virtue of discretion needeth to be
had, with the which all others may be governed; for without it
all virtues are turned into vices. This is Joseph, that is the late
born child, but yet his father loveth him more than them all.
For why: without discretion may goodness neither be gotten nor
kept, and therefore no wonder, though that virtue be singularly
loved, without which no virtue may be had nor governed. But
what wonder though this virtue be late gotten, when we may
not win to the perfection of discretion without much custom and
many travails of these other affections coming before? For first
behoveth us to be used in each virtue by itself, and get the proof
of them all serely,90 ere we may have full knowing of them all,
or else can deem sufficiently of them all. And when we use us
busily in these feelings and beholdings before said, ofttimes we
fall and ofttimes we rise. Then, by our oft falling, may we learn
how much wariness us behoveth have in the getting and keeping
of these virtues. And thus sometime, by long use, a soul is led
into full discretion, and then it may joy in the birth of Joseph.
And before this virtue be conceived in a man's soul, all that
86 87 88
Disposition. Coaxing. Madness.
S9 Gaps. 67-87, with which compare Ebner, op. cit., pp. 34 ff.
90 In particular.
110 THE VIGTORINES
these other virtues do, it is without discretion. And therefore, in

as much as a man presumeth and enforceth him in any of these
feelings beforesaid, over his might and out of measure, in so
much the fouler he falleth and faileth of his purpose. And there-
fore it is that after them all and last is Dinah born; for often after
a foul fall and a failing cometh soon shame. And thus after many
fallings and failings, and shames following, a man learneth by
the proof that there is nothing better than to be ruled after
counsel, the which is the readiest getting of discretion. For why:
he that doth all things with counsel, he shall never forthink it 91;
for better is a sly man than a strong man; yea, and better is list
than lither strength,92 and a sly man speaketh of victories. And
here is the open skill why that neither Leah nor Zilpah nor
Bilhah might bear such a child, but only Rachel; for, as it is
said before, that of reason springeth right counsel, the which is
very discretion, understanden by Joseph, the first son of Rachel;
and then at the first bring we forth Joseph in our reason when all
that we are stirred to do, we do it with counsel. This Joseph
shall not only know what sins we are most stirred unto, but also
he shall know the weakness of our kind, and after that either
asketh, so shall he do remedy, and seek counsel at wiser than he,
and do after them, or else he is not Joseph, Jacob's son born of
Rachel. And also by this foresaid Joseph a man is not only
learned to eschew the deceits of his enemies, but also oft a man
is led by him to the perfect knowing of himself; and all after that
a man knoweth himself, thereafter he profiteth in the knowing
of God, of whom he is the image and the likeness. And therefore
it is that after Joseph is Benjamin born. For as by Joseph discre-
tion, so by Benjamin we understand contemplation. And both
are they born of one mother, and gotten of one father. For
through the grace of God lightening our reason, come we to the
perfect knowing of ourself and of God—that is to say, after that
it may be in this life. But long after Joseph is Benjamin born.
For why: truly but if it so be that we use us busily and long in
ghostly travails, with the which we are learned to know ourself,
we may not be raised into the knowing and contemplation of
God. He doth for nought that lifteth up his eye to the sight of
God, that is not yet able to see himself. For first I would that a
man learned him to know the unseeable 93 things of his own
spirit, ere he presume to know the unseeable things of the spirit
of God; and he that knoweth not yet himself and weeneth that
91 Regret. 92 Proverbially: "Better is art than evil strength."
93 On the foregoing Invisibilia, see cap. 71; Ebner, op. cit.9 pp. 65 ff., 70 ff.
RICHARD: THE WAY TO CONTEMPLATION III
he hath gotten somedeal knowing of the unseeable things of
God, I doubt it not but that he is deceived; and therefore I rede
that a man seek first busily for to know himself, the which is
made to the image and the likeness of God as in soul. And wete
thou well that he that desireth for to see God, him behoveth to
cleanse his soul, the which is as a mirror in the which all things
are clearly seen, when it is clean; 94 and when the mirror is foul,
then mayst thou see nothing clearly therein; and right so it is of
thy soul, when it is foul, thou knowest neither thyself nor God.
As when the candle brenneth, thou mayst then see the self
candle by the light thereof, and other things also; right so, when
thy soul brenneth in the love of God, that is, when thou feelest
continually thine heart desire after the love of God, then, by the
light of his grace that he sendeth in thy reason, thou mayst see
both thine own unworthiness and his great goodness. And there-
fore cleanse thy mirror and proffer thy candle to the fire; and
then, when thy mirror is cleansed and thy candle brenning, and
it so be that thou wittily behold thereto, then beginneth there a
manner of clarity of the light of God for to shine in thy soul, and
a manner of sunbeam that is ghostly to appear before thy
ghostly sight, through the which the eye of thy soul is opened to
behold God and godly things, heaven and heavenly things, and
all manner of ghostly things. But this sight is but by times, when
God will vouchsafe for to give it to a working soul, the whiles it is
in the battle of this deadly life; but after this life it shall be ever-
lasting. This light shone in the soul of David, when he said thus
in the psalm: "Lord, the light of thy face is marked upon us;
thou hast given gladness within mine heart." 95 The light of
God's face is the shining of his grace, which reformeth in us his
image which hath been disfigured with the darkness of sin; and
therefore a soul that brenneth in desire of his sight,96 if it hope
for to have that that it desireth, wete it well it hath conceived
Benjamin. And, therefore, what is more healful 97 than the
sweetness of this sight, or what softer thing may be felt? Sikerly,
none; and that woteth Rachel full well. For why: reason saith
that, in comparison of this sweetness, all other sweetness is sor-
row, and bitter as gall before honey. Nevertheless, yet may a
man never come to such a grace by his own slight.98 For why:
it is the gift of God without desert of man. But without doubt,
though it be not the desert of man, yet no man may take such
grace without great study and brenning desires coining before;
94 Cap. 72. 95 p s . 4:7 (6-7). 96 One MS. reads "light."
97 Salutary. 98 Skill.
THE VICTORINES
and that woteth Rachel full well, and therefore she multiplieth
her study, and whetteth her desires, seeking desire upon desire;
so that at the last, in great abundance of brenning desires and
sorrow of the delaying of her desire, Benjamin is born, and his
mother Rachel dieth ?9; for why, in what time that a soul is
ravished above itself by abundance of desires and a great multi-
tude of love, so that it is inflamed with the light of the Godhead,
sikerly then dieth all man's reason.1
And therefore, whatso thou be that covetest to come to con-
templation of God, that is to say, to bring forth such a child that
men clepen in the story Benjamin (that is to say, sight of God),
then shalt thou use thee in this manner. Thou shalt call together
thy thoughts and thy desires, and make thee of them a church,
and learn thee therein for to love only this good word "Jesu," so
that all thy desires and all thy thoughts are only set for to love
Jesu, and that unceasingly as it may be here; so that thou fulfill
what is said in the psalm: "Lord, I shall bless thee in churches" 2;
that is, in thoughts and desires of the love of Jesu. And then, in
this church of thoughts and desires, and in this onehead of
studies and of wills, look that all thy thoughts, and all thy
desires, and all thy studies, and all thy wills be set only in the love
and the praising of this Lord Jesu, without forgetting, as far forth
as thou mayst by grace, and as thy frailty will suffer; evermore
meeking thee to prayer and to counsel, patiently abiding the
will of our Lord, unto the time that thy mind be ravished above
itself, to be fed with the fair food of angels in the beholding of
God and ghostly things: so that it be fulfilled in thee that is
written in the psalm: Ibi Benjamin adolescentulus, in mentis excessu 3;
that is, "There is Benjamin, the young child, in ravishing of
mind." The grace of Jesu keep thee evermore.4 Amen.
99 Gen. 35:18.
1
On contemplative ecstasy, see the notes in the Victorine introduction,
especially Benjamin Minor, caps. 86, 87; Benjamin Major, Lib. V, caps.
2 ff.; Wolff, op, cit., pp. 35 ff., 192 ft.; Ebner, op. cit., pp. 100 ff., 108 ff.,
and the references to the Trois processions and the studies by Dumeige.
2 Ps. 25 (26):i2. 3 Ps. 67:28 (68:27),
4 Though not in the original, at least in this form, this paragraph is defi-
nitely related to caps. 74-85 of the Benjamin Minor, as well as to the latter
part of the Quatuor gradibus and the Trois processions.
ADAM: GOSPEL SYMBOLS AND THE
MYSTIC GOAL
OF THE HOLY EVANGELISTS*
THE TEXT
O be joyful, faithful nation!
Seed of God's own generation!
Mindful of the revelation
In EzekiePs prophecy:
In that witness John uniteth,
Who the Apocalypse inditeth:
"Witness true my true pen writeth
Of what truly met mine eye!"
Round the footstool of the Godhead,
'Mongst the blessed saints included,
Stand four creatures there embodied,
Diverse in their form to view.
One an eagle's semblance weareth.
One a lion's likeness beareth,
But as man or ox appeareth
Each one of the other two.
As Evangelists, these creatures
Figure forth, in form and features,
Those, whose doctrines' stream, like nature's
Rain, is on the Church outpoured;
5 The selection is No. Gil, "Of the Holy Evangelists,5' as translated from the
early text of Gautier by D. S. Wrangham, The Liturgical Poetry of Adam of
St. Victor, Kegan Paul, Trench & Co., London, 1881, Vol. I l l , pp. 162-69.
Used by permission of the publishers, now Routledge & Kegan Paul, Ltd.
See the CEuvres poitiques d'Adam de Saint-Victor, texte critique par Uon Gautier,
3d ed., Paris, 1894. Gf. Wolff, Die Viktoriner, pp. 43-44, 307 ff., for an in-
troduction to, and other examples of, the Sequences. Cf. MPL 196:1423 ff.
Consult, also, F. Wellner's edition, Sdmtliche Sequenzen: Lateinisch und
Deutsch, 2d ed., Im KosekVerlag, Munich, 1955,
8—L.M.M. 113
114 THE VIGTORINES
Matthew, Mark, and Luke portraying,

Him too, who his sire obeying,
By the nets no longer staying,
Came to follow thee, O Lord!
Matthew as the man is treated,

Since 'tis he, who hath related,
How from man, by God created,
God did, as a man, descend.
Luke the ox's semblance weareth,
Since his Gospel first declareth,
As he thence the law's veil teareth,
Sacrifices' aim and end.
Mark, the lion, his voice upraises,

Crying out in desert places:
"Cleanse your hearts from all sin's traces;
For our God a way prepare!"
John, the eagle's features having,
Earth on love's twain pinions leaving,
Soars aloft, God's truth perceiving
In light's purer atmosphere.
Thus the forms of brute creation
Prophets in their revelation
Use; but in their application
All their sacred lessons bring.
Mystic meaning underlieth
Wheels that run, or wing that flieth;
One consent the first implieth,
Contemplation means the wing.
These four writers in portraying
Christ, his fourfold acts displaying,
Show Him—thou hast heard the saying—
Each of them distinctively:
Man—of woman generated;
Ox—in offering dedicated;
Lion—having death defeated;
Eagle—mounting to the sky.
These four streams, through Eden flowing,
Moisture, verdure, still bestowing,
A D A M ! G O S P E L SYMBOLS A N D T H E MYSTIC G O A L II5
Make the flowers and fruit there growing

In rich plenty laugh and sing:
Christ the source, these streams forth sending;
High the source, these downward trending;
That they thus a taste transcending
Of life's fount to saints may bring.
At their stream inebriated,
Be our love's thirst aggravated,
More completely to be sated
At a holier love's full fount!
May the doctrine they provide us
Draw us from sin's slough beside us,
And to things divine thus guide us,
As from earth we upward mount! Amen.
Francis of Assist (i 182-1226)
INTRODUCTION
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
j OHN BERN A R D O N E , SUBSEQUENTLY CALLED FRANCIS,

was born at Assisi in 1182. Abortive military participation
in 1200-1205 led, around 1206, to the transmutation of his
knightly ideals into the espousal of Lady Poverty. Between 1206
and 1209, he encountered the crucifix calling him to renuncia-
tory service; he renounced his earthly father for the heavenly
one; and, while participating in the Mass, he answered the sum-
mons to apostolic poverty. Innocent III gave severely qualified,
verbal approval to Francis' use of a primitive gospel rule in 121 o.
This was not for the foundation of an order, which Francis
never sought, but for the guidance of a small company of
dedicated, voluntary renunciants. Clare precipitated the found-
ing of a woman's movement in 1212, and Francis, having visited
the crusaders in the East in 1219, surrendered his leadership in
1220. His followers underwent transformation into an order in
1220, received a tentative rule in 1221, and an official one in
1223. The third order came into being in 1221. Always loyal to
the Church and ever conformable to the poor Christ, Francis
received the stigmata in 1224. He composed the "Sun Song" in
1225, and in 1226 he died, leaving behind in his spiritual Will
and "Testament" the bequest of truest poverty. He was canon-
ized in 1228.
SYNOPSIS
Poverty for Francis meant total renunciation. This required
surrendering the whole self to the embrace of divine unity. Life
wholly unified in the love of God and his Son required the
singleness of mind and the inflammability of the loving heart
116
INTRODUCTION II7
that the way of poverty most truly connoted for him. The love
of Christ prompted imitation of the poor Christ. This was
reminiscent of the Saviour's human renunciation as well as
of the Lord's offering himself entirely unprotected in the
eucharistic sacrifice.1
In the brief passages of this anthology, both the sacrificial
dedication of the self in ardent, ecstatic love and the joyousness
of spiritual liberation involved in poverty are represented. The
"Lauds" are the spiritual troubadour's praises of the Divine.
These are reflected in the "Sun Song," which depicts the whole
world of creation gathered about the loving Creator. Included
also is the "Exposition on the Pater Noster," which celebrates
contemplative prayer. Noteworthy is the "Praises of the Virtues"
in which poverty, chastity, obedience, humility, and simplicity
are symbolically related to the whole loving, renunciatory pas-
sion to serve God and Christ.2
Each of these works bears the closest possible relationship to
the "divine office" and to the liturgical Church.3 Each cele-
brates the total community of life lived under the Divine in an
apostolate among the human. "The Praises of the Virtues,"
with its personification of Queen Wisdom and Lady Poverty,
constitutes an unbroken ring of lauds in which the renunciatory
life is enshrined. Wisdom, Poverty, Charity, Simplicity,
Humility, Obedience, and the rest are possessed together, if at
all. They can be experienced only by one who has died to him-
self and who has, thereby, become alive to the Divine through
the indwelling graces of God. God the Father, Mary Queen of
Heaven ever Virgin, God's beloved Son, and the Holy Ghost,
as well as the celestial hierarchies—all are praised.
These are the rulers of the universe, in relation with whom all
created life, both man and animal, is graded in orderly sub-
mission. Francis, as the lover of Christ, of his palace, his taber-
nacle, and his mother, hails these and the personified virtues
"who by means of grace and the illumination of the Holy Ghost
are infused in the hearts of the faithful." 4
1
The main outlines of Francis' renunciation are traced out in my Francis of
Assisi: Apostle of Poverty, Duke University Press, Durham, North Carolina,
1941. See the extended source and secondary literature, as well as ch. VII,
on "Mysticism and the Divine Union."
2
A good brief set of texts and introductions is P. Gratien's Les opuscules de
Saint Frangois d'Assise, Paris, 1935. It is based on the Quaracchi Opuscula of
1904 by P. Lemmens, and the numerous researches by P. Sabatier. See
Gratien, Les opuscules, pp. 121 ff., for the "Laudes et prieres."
3 Ibid., pp. 127 ff., 148 ff. 4 Ibid., p. 150.
Il8 FRANCIS OF ASSISI
Francis, and his followers through him, may have been
greatly influenced by Bernard and his tender devotion to
Christ, His mother, and His renunciatory suffering. Francis is
less immediately indebted to these, however, than to the Gos-
pels and the Psalms. His spirituality is, indeed, affective. As in
his ''Testament" and in his early gospel Rule, there is in his
Opuscula, his Lauds, and even in the hagiographical Fioretti, the
language of the Bible and the aura of the primitive apostolate.5
The ecstatic, rapturous encounter of Francis with the Divine
on Mt. Alverna later set forth, for Bonaventure, the drama of
inebriating, consuming affectivity.6 The holocaust of renuncia-
tory love that emerges in the stigmatization is celebrated also in
the "Paraphrases on the Lord's Prayer." On Alverna, Francis
was fused with the loving, renunciatory Christ in triumphant,
suffering love. The contemplative raptures of the stigmata have
their counterpart, not only in the purified suffering of the
"Canticle to the Sun," but also in the ecstatic, unitive prayer of
the "Our Father." "Thy Kingdom come; that thou shouldst
reign within us with thy grace and let us come to thy Kingdom,
where we will see thee face to face, and have perfect love,
blessed company, and sempiternal joy." 7 Prayerfully cele-
brated are the hallowed name, the divine will to be done on
earth as in heaven—among men, because these are within the
divine companionship.
Here, then, is the secular knight, converted, renounced, and
given to spiritual chants among men. He would elicit from them,
in turn, their own responsive song to the Lord. The praises of
the Father, the glorification of the Creator in the Canticle, the
joyous paean to the personified virtues associated with the Lord's
mother—all of these are in context with the poor man made free
to love, to rejoice, and to sing praises. The divine praises were
commended to Francis' followers by a "Rule" (1221), and to all
the Christian faithful by a "Letter." They were integrated by
Francis with his keeping of the canonical hours of prayer as with
his assistance at the Mass. They were commended to the "Poor
Brethren" for exhortation and, where properly authorized, for
preaching to the people. The apostolate of renunciatory love is
the jocund message of praises for the Creator God, the universal
King, the Father of Christ, and of redeemed humanity.
5
Petry, Francis, chs. 4-6; F. Vernet, La spirituality midUvale, pp. 32 ff.
6
Bonaventure, The Life of St. Francis, ed. by T. Okey, London, 1910, ch. 13.
7 O. Karrer, St. Francis of Assisi: the Legends and Lauds, New York, 1947,
p. 266.
INTRODUCTION Iig
In the "Sun Song," the sweet singer of God's love provides
something quite other than a mere Renaissance upsurge of
nature feeling. This is rather the Lord's joculator still celebrating
His way with creatures and all creation. Light and suffering,
pain and joy, fire and water, all proclaim the "Hierarchy of
Heaven" and the ordered gradations of the universe held safe in
the orbit of God's unchanging love. Who shall say how much
of Francis' own poetry of renunciatory love, how much of his
teaching of the divinely exampled poverty in Christ, how much
of his passage by way of the created hierarchy to the hierarchy
of heaven, is to be found in Bonaventure, in Ramon Lull, and in
myriads of less famous followers?
In the "Canticle to the Sun" the renunciatory life is as reg-
nant as in the "Rule," the "Testament," or the "Sermon to the
People." Here too are the vernacular outbreathings of the little
idiota, as Francis called himself, the free rhythms of the unpro-
fessional joglar, the bursting release from temporary fears and
hurts of the body, the cry of triumphant, fondly unfettered love.
This is indeed a message of such joy as only the poor in spirit
may know, a formula for relieving others' burdens, an occasion
for celebrating, in minstrel jocularity, the call to repentance
issued to the little people of all ages. The ecstasies of Alverna,
the "Praises" of God and of the "Virtues," the "Song" to God in
joy over his creation, all are the reminiscent celebrations of love
made joyous in renunciation. They will become, moreover, the
spiritual constitution for the philosopher-administrator-mystic
John Fidanza, called Bonaventure, and the troubadour-mission-
ary-mystic Lull. The hierarchy of creation, the exemplarism of
divine love, the Itinerarium of John Fidanza, and the poverty
mission of Ramon, are all here in symbol.
The "Canticle of the Sun" is veritably a triumphant chant
out of suffering and approaching death—"song of praises, cry
of love, of joy and of acknowledgment to the Father, infinitely
good, of this boundless family which is his whole creation." 8
* Gratien, op. ciL, p. 154.
Francis of Assisi (i182-1226)
E X P O S I T I O N OF THE L O R D ' S PRAYER *
THE TEXT
10
Our Father, our most blessed, most holy Creator, our Saviour
and our Comforter; who art in heaven, in the angels, in the
saints, enlightening them to know thee; because thou, O Lord,
art the light that inflames them by thy divine love; because
thou, O Lord, art the love which is in them and fills them to
render them blessed; because thou, O Lord, art the highest
good, and the eternal good, from which all good things come,
and without which there is no good anywhere.
Hallowed be thy name: let the knowledge of thee become
apparent to us, so that we may know how plentiful are thy
blessings, how long thy promises, how lofty thy majesty, how
profound thy judgments.11
Thy Kingdom come; that thou shouldst reign within us with
thy grace and let us come to thy Kingdom, where we will see
$
The passages that follow are taken from St. Francis of Assisi: The Legends and
Lauds, edited, selected and annotated by Otto Karrer, and translated by
N. Wydenbruck, New York, 1947. They are used by permission of the
publishers, Sheed & Ward, Inc., of London and New York. The selections
are, in the order of the English edition, pp. 261-62 for the "Canticle of
Brother Sun," pp. 265-66 for the "Praises of the Virtues," and pp. 266-67
for the "Exposition of the Lord's Prayer." These are, in the German
edition, Franz von Assisi, Legenden und Laude, Zurich, 1945, and in the
above order, pp. 520-23; 534-37; 538-41—here in Italian-German
parallels.
10 The paraphrase of the "Pater" is, without sufficient cause, relegated to the
"Dubia" by H. Boehmer and F. Wiegand, Analekten zur Geschichte des
Franciscus von Assisi, 2d edition, Tubingen, 1930, pp. 48-49. Cf. Karrer,
Legends, p. 260.
11 Longitudo promissorum tuorum, sublimitas maiestatis et profunditas iudiciorum,
Boehmer and Wiegand, op. cit., p. 49.
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER 121
thee face to face, and have perfect love, blessed company, and
sempiternal joy. 12
Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven; so that we may
love thee with all our heart, thinking ever of thee; with all our
soul, ever desiring thee; with all our mind, directing all our in-
tentions to thee, and seeking thy honor in all things; and with
all our strength, employing all the power of our spirit and all the
senses of our body in the service of thy love, and in naught else:
and that we may also love our neighbors as ourselves, drawing
all men, as far as it is in our power, toward thy love, rejoicing in
the good things of others and grieving at their ills as at our own,
and never giving offense to anyone.
Give us this day our daily bread, that is thy beloved Son, our
Lord Jesus Christ, in memory of the love he bore us, and of what
he said, did and suffered for us.
And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass
against us; and what we do not forgive entirely, make thou, O
Lord, that we should forgive, so that for thy sake we should
sincerely love our enemies, and intercede devoutly for them with
thee, and never render evil for evil, and strive with thy help to
be of assistance to all men.
And lead us not into temptation, hidden or manifest, sudden
or protracted.
And deliver us from evil, past, present, and future.
So be it, with good will and without hope of reward.13
12
Te visione manifesta, amore perfetto, societd beata, godimento sempiterno. Karrer,
Franz, p. 53 8 -
13
E gratuitamente. Karrer, Franz, p. 540.
PRAISES OF T H E V I R T U E S W I T H W H I C H
T H E M O S T HOLY V I R G I N WAS A D O R N E D
AND W H I C H S H O U L D A D O R N T H E H O L Y
SOUL
THE TEXT
Hail, Queen Wisdom, God save thee with thy holy sister pure
Simplicity.
Hail, Lady holy Poverty, God save thee with thy holy sister
Humility.
Hail, Lady holy Charity, God save thee with thy sister, holy
Obedience.
Hail, all you holy virtues, may God save you, he from whom you
come and are derived.
There is not a man in the world who could possess even one
of your number unless he first has died. He who possesses one
and does not offend the others, possesses them all, but he who
violates even one, possesses none at all and violates them all.
Each virtue routs vice and sin, covering them with confusion.
Holy Wisdom confounds Satan and all his malice. Pure holy
Simplicity confounds all the wisdom of this world and of the
body. Holy Poverty confounds the cupidity, the avarice and the
cares of this life.14 Holy Humility confounds all arrogance, all
the men who live for this world and likewise all things that are
of the world. Holy Charity confounds all temptations of the
flesh and the devil, and all fear of the flesh. Holy Obedience
confounds all corporal and carnal desires and keeps a man's
body mortified, so that he may obey the spirit and obey his
brother, and be subject and submissive to all men in the world;
and not to men alone, but also to all animals and wild beasts, so
that they can do with him what they will, so far as is permitted
to them by the Lord on high. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Hail, O holy Lady, most holy Queen, Mother of God, Mary,
*4 E U cure di questo secolo. Karrer, Franz, p. 534.
122
PRAISE OF THE VIRTUES 123
thou who art everlastingly virgin, chosen by the most holy

Father in Heaven and consecrated by him with his most holy
and beloved Son and with the Holy Ghost our Comforter, thou
in whom there is and has been all fullness of grace and every
good.
Hail, palace of Christ; hail, tabernacle of Christ, hail, Mother
of Christ! 15 Hail to you, holy virtues, who by means of grace
and the illumination of the Holy Ghost are infused in the hearts
of the faithful, so that, from having been infidels, they may be-
come members of the faith.
is Vi saluto, palagio di Lui. . . tabernacolo . . . Madre di Lui. Karrer, Franz,

p. 536; cf. Boehmer and Wiegand, op, cit., p. 47.
THE CANTICLE OF BROTHER S U N "
THE TEXT
Most high, omnipotent, merciful Lord,17
Thine is all praise, the honor and the glory and every benedic-
tion
To thee alone are they confined,
And no man is worthy to speak thy name.
Praised be thou, my Lord, with all thy creatures,
Especially for Sir Brother Sun.
Through him thou givest us the light of day,
And he is fair and radiant with great splendor,
Of thee, Most High, giving signification.18
Praised be thou, my Lord, for Sister Moon and the stars
Formed in the sky, clear, beautiful, and fair.
Praised be thou, my Lord, for Brother Wind,
For air, for weather cloudy and serene and every weather
By which thou to thy creatures givest sustenance.
Praised be thou, my Lord, for Sister Water,
Who is very useful and humble, precious and chaste.
Praised be thou, my Lord, for Brother Fire,
By whom thou dost illuminate the night;
Beauteous is he and jocund, robustious, and strong.19
is Karrer reminds us that this is the only text certainly known to have been
conceived in the " 'sweet' tongue of St. Francis's Umbria." Legends, p. 258.
Cf. the account in the Speculum perfectionis, cap. 101, and see cap. 123 for
the addition of the verses on death. Gf. Boehmer and Wiegand, op, cit.9
pp. 44-45, for the full text also.
17 Altissimu onnipotente bon Signore. i 8 Porta significatione.
15 Et ello k bello ejocondo
e robustoso e forte,
124
THE CANTICLE OF BROTHER SUN 125
Praised be thou, my Lord, for our Mother Earth,
Who sustains and rules us
And brings forth divers fruits and colored flowers and herbs.
Praised be thou, my Lord, for those who grant forgiveness
through thy love
And suffer infirmities and tribulation.
Blessed are they who bear them with resignation,
Because by thee, Most High, they will be crowned.
Praised be thou, my Lord, for our [sister] 20 bodily Death,
From whom no living man can ever 'scape.
Woe unto those who die in mortal sin.
Blessed those who are found in thy most holy will;
To them the second death will bring no ill.
Praise and bless my Lord, render thanks to him
And serve him with great humility.
20 The original Italian reads: per sora nostra morte corporate—"for our sister
bodily Death." Karrer, Franz, p. 522; Speculum perfectionis, cap. 120;
Boehmer and Wiegand, op. ciL> p. 45. Karrer, Franz, p. 523, reads,
Bruder.
IV
Bonaventure (1221-12J4)
INTRODUCTION
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
OHN FIDANZA WAS BORN IN TUSCANY NEAR V I T E R B O
Ji in 1221. Having recovered at four years of age from a

_ malady purportedly healed by the merits and intercessions
of Francis, he entered the Franciscan order between 1238 and
1243. A student of Alexander Hales at Paris, he taught there
nfFr:
from 1248 to 1255. Together he and Thomas Aquinas fought
for the rights of the Religious against the secular masters and
were together made Doctors in 1257. Bonaventure became
minister general of his order in 1257 and gave a balanced ad-
ministration in an era of altercated interpretations of Franciscan
poverty. After a visit to Mt. Alverna in 1259, he wrote his Life
of'Francis, later approved by the order in 1263. Created a car-
dinal in 1273 and bishop of Albano, he died at the council of
Lyons in 1274. He was canonized in 1482 and declared a Doctor
of the Church by Sixtus V in 1587.
SYNOPSIS
Bonaventure, with all his devotion to the academic disciplines,
is a true Franciscan renunciant at heart. The Itinerarium mentis in
Deum l is a genuinely revealing expose of Francis' own pos-
tulates. The primitive Franciscan devotion is here definitely re-
1
The Itinerarium is provocatively analyzed by P. L. Landsberg in "La philo-
sophie d'une experience mystique . . .," La vie spirituelle, Vol. 51 (1937),
Supplement, pp. [7i]-[85], and by P. I. Squadrani, in "S. Bonaventura
christianus philosophus," Antonianum, Vol. 16 (1941), pp. 256-304. The
text itself is in the Opera omnia, Quaracchi, 1891, Vol. V, pp. 295-313. See
Gilson, History of Christian Philosophy in the Middle Ages, pp. 332 ff., on the
mystical trend in Bonaventure's doctrine of "itinerary" and illuminative
grades.
126
INTRODUCTION 127
lated to the ecstasy of the Poverello. The prologue of this work,
like Bonaventure's Life of Francis (ch. 13), itself, draws for its
inspiration upon the spiritual Father who so feared the over-
expansion of worldly wisdom. What it deduces from Francis,
however, is the renounced disciple of Christ in stigmatic rap-
ture. The Christocentrism of Bonaventure's philosophy is thus a
direct heritage from Francis.
Bonaventure's philosophy may be said to be that of a mystical
experience—his own as well as that of the Poverello. The plan
of the Itinerarium was conceived by Bonaventure, thirty-three
years after Francis' death, in the solitude of that same Alverna
where the Little Poor Man had received the stigmata. His
unique experience of love mediating the act of the spirit left its
impress on the body. Both spirit and body attested to Francis'
identification with the Christ, which union later became in
Bonaventure's Itinerarium a symbolic commentary of Francis'
vision on the sacred mount. Francis' experience may seem to
have left all too little place for philosophical analysis. Nonethe-
less, Bonaventure does express that primitive elan in terms of a
philosophical treatise with a specifically mystical consumma-
tion. The Franciscan Vision, as Father James translates the Itiner-
arium, is true to Francis' renunciation, even as it is true to Bona-
venture's philosophical system and his mystical insight. It is
"the philosophy of a mystical experience."
The treatise is built about a crucified seraph with six wings.
These properly betoken the six stages of illumination by which
the soul is made ready to mount from creatures Godward, and
to enter the way of eternal peace. This preparation utilizes the
progression of true Christian wisdom. This way is, of course,
that of the burning, seraphic love of the Crucified. The six
stages of illumination, then, begin with God's creatures and
lead up to God. Here, again, the Franciscan orientation ob-
served in the "Sun Song" celebrates the life experience of true
Franciscanism in the universe of God's creation.
Man has three faculties. He addresses himself to three spirit-
ual directions or outlooks (tres aspectus principales). The first of
these employs animality or sensual perceptions {animalitas seu
sensualitas) of the external world. The second, that of spirit
(spiritus), permits man's entrance into himself. The third, or
mind (mens), connotes his regard for self-transcending realities.
Augustine had introduced the sense of mind (mens)^ thus in-
extricably oriented to the spirit's sight (oculi mentis, acies mentis).
As re-employed by Bonaventure, mind {mens) indicates the
128 BONAVENTURE
inclination of the soul toward that which is beyond itself; toward
spiritual things and pure truth; in a word, toward God, the
Logos, and Christ, who are the very heart of Bonaventure's
teaching. Doubling each of the triple aspects or directions, one
gets six gradations in the soul's ascent. Thus in the range of
sense perception one sees God mirrored in the external world,
not only per speculum, i.e., as the cause of this world, but, also, in
speculo, or as present in this outer world. Similarly, man, in
gauging his interior depths, contemplates therein not only the
image of the God who is his Creator and Sustainer but also the
image of that One who is his intimately experienced Re-Creator
and Re-Former. Finally, the soul is able to contemplate the
Transcendent Being beyond him who is recognized both as the
God who is the "Esse" of metaphysics and the gracious, benef-
icent, Trinitarian God of Christian revelation.
Following these three fundamental regards, extended as in
Richard of St. Victor into six ascending stages, Bonaventure
comes at last to the seventh or distinctively mystical level. At
last there has been reached the intelligence-transcending,
though still mentally referable, grade of ecstatic love and mystic
Sabbath repose. Here, like Dionysius, he can describe better
with negations of banal language than with affirmations of the
ineffable.2
The ascent to God here marked out, then, leads along the
path followed by the Christian philosopher for six steps until it
attains unto the mystic rest (requies mystica) in the seventh chap-
ter of the Itinerarium.3 At this point, The Triple Way clarifies and
further directs the quest.4 For Bonaventure, with his heritage of
Neoplatonic, Augustinian, and Victorine thought, theology is
of three kinds: symbolical, theological (proper), and mystical.
Symbolical theology teaches, in exemplarist fashion, the right
employment of sensible phenomena and the way of one's being
2 Itin., Prolog., 3, cap. I, 4; Landsberg, op. cit., pp. [77] ff.
3
Gf. Squadrani, op. cit., pp. 260 ff., 282 ff.
4 The De triplici via is reprinted, together with other mystical texts from the
Q u a r a c c h i Opera, in Decent opuscula ad theologiam mysticam spectantia in textu
correcta, 4th ed., 1949, pp- i~39- It is translated and interpreted in R. P.
Valentin = M. Breton, Saint Bonaventure, csuvres . . ., Aubier, Paris, 1943,
pp. 115 ff.; the Itinerarium is pp. 425 ff. A good commentary is R. P. Jean-
Fr. Bonnefoy, Une somme Bonaventurienne de thiologie mystique: Le "De triplici
via," Paris, 1934. Cf. DS I, 1791 ff., and D. Dobbins, Franciscan Mysticism,
New York, 1927. Consult D. Phillips, "The Way to Religious Perfection
According to St. Bonaventure's De triplici via," in Essays in Medieval
Thought, ed. by J. H. Mundy, R. W. Emery, and B. W. Nelson, Columbia
University Press, New York, 1955, pp. 31-59.
INTRODUCTION 129
raised to God by universal analogy. Theology proper, or spec-
ulative, shows the right use of intelligibles through the reason.
It renders believable things intelligible. Mystical theology en-
visages its specific goal as the following in the way that leads to
rapturous union with the Divine. It conduces to reason-tran-
scending ecstasy and to self-transcending love. Here contempla-
tive love follows the triple, hierarchical modes of purification,
illumination, and perfection, or consummate union.5
The Holy Ghost effects the soul's re-creation in the image of
the Trinity. A life regularized by the operation of the virtues
knows rectified powers. Sacramental graces bring healing to the
soul's wounds. Graciously impelled and divinely elicited to the
way of perfection, the soul now takes up its final journey to con-
templative heights.
Here, Francis on Mt. Alverna is its model. Divinely renewed
in its contemplative endowments and spiritually reoriented to
the life of union with Christ, the soul is prepared to traverse the
three ways of mystic ascent.6
For there are three ways that lead to ecstasy and perfection.
They are the perfect trivium subject to full exemplarist applica-
tion. "The Church Militant must be conformed to the Church
Triumphant." Purification, illumination, and perfection serve
a hierarchical function. Following the law of universal analogy
and the laws of the heavenly hierarchies, they order the soul to
its proper actions and to its distinctive end.7
The three ways are set in clear focus. Purgation leads to
peace through the expulsion of sin. Illumination emphasizes the
truth and the imitation of Christ. Perfection and the life of
union make ready in charity the reception of the Spouse. The
first way represents withdrawal from evil. The second sym-
bolizes perfection in good. The third marks accession to the
best and highest. In the first two ways the activity of the soul it-
self predominates. In the third, or the unitive, there is passivity
for the soul matched by the activity of grace.8
As for the purgative way, it consists in active cleansing. Mys-
tical peace requires peace of conscience as a prime condition.
All the soul-cleansing spiritual exercises, as well as deepest
humility and the practice of the virtues, serve purificatory ends.
5
Itin.9 cap. i, no. 7; Gilson, History, pp. 331 ff.; DS I, 1772 ff.
6
Itin., cap. 7, nos. 3-5; Trip, via, Prol., no. 1; cap. 1, no. 15; cap. 3, nos.
7
Trip, via, cap. 3, no. 1; cap. 1, sec. 1; Itin., cap. 4, nos. 6-7.
8
Trip, via, cap. 1, nos. 3-9, 12; DS I, 1792.
9—L.M.M.
130 BONAVENTURE
These are advanced with the aid of meditation, prayer, and

contemplation.9
The illuminative life practices the imitation of Christ accord-
ing to the triple ways of meditation, prayer, and contemplation.
Gifts, special exercises, devotion to the Virgin—all are placed in
true perspective.10
The unitive way exercises and develops love to the point of
mystic union. Thus a train of powder is laid for igniting the
spark of wisdom. Heretofore, the activity of the soul has been
paramount. Now the unitive way focuses the passivity of the
spirit and the dominating action of grace. This way knows a
consummate charity. Its fruit is mystic wisdom. Its proper ob-
ject in love is the divine Spouse, Here is the full range of medita-
tion. Adoration reaches its farthest limits. The eucharistic life
permeates all things.11
Contemporary scholars observe Bonaventure's attempt at the
reconstruction of human knowledge and the whole universe
apropos of the unique peace of love. The ultimate end of Bona-
venture's thought is, Gilson also feels, "a metaphysic of Chris-
tian mysticism." His doctrine "marks the culminating point of
speculative mysticism and constitutes the most complete syn-
thesis that it has ever achieved." 12
"A metaphysic of Catholic mysticism," as it has been called,
the doctrine of Bonaventure also reveals itself as the learned,
theological expression of Francis' own religious experience.
Francis' fundamental assumptions have a profound elaboration
in the Bonaventurian system—a system based on the words of
Christ as the way, truth, and life. The trend is that accented
significantly in Bonaventure's sermon "Christ the One and
Only Master." The Cross, likewise, becomes the genuine Tree of
Life, lignum vitae. Christ, the poor man in Galilee, the Saviour on
the cross, the sacrificer and sacrificed One in the Mass—he it is
who, for Francis and for Bonaventure, is the heart of mystical
experience as he is the epitome of renunciatory love.13
Many would agree that, if in The Triple Way we have the
mystical treatise of Bonaventure, par excellence, we have in the
9 Ibid., cap. 1, nos. 3 ff.; DS I, 1793-1800.
10 Ibid., cap. 1, nos. 10-14.
11 Ibid., cap. 1, nos. 15-19, cap. 3, nos. 1-14; Dobbins, Mysticism, pp. 124-
57; DS I, 1810-15, 1818, 1840-42; Bonnefoy, op. cit., pp. 42 ff.
12 La philosophie de Saint Bonaventure, 3d ed., Paris, 1953, p. 396; History,
pp. 331 ff.; DS I, 1841.
13 DS I, 1841-42; cf. the sermon in Breton, op. at., pp. 369 ff.; the lignum
vitae, in Decem opusc, pp. 155 ff.; also Breton, op. cit., pp. 235 ff.
INTRODUCTION 131
philosophical Itinerarium no less a clue to the contemplative con-
summation.
Bonaventure is the exposition via philosophy of a Franciscan
primitivism that elucidates Francis' own mysticism. In Bona-
venture and through him there come to expression the exem-
plarist directions and the Christocentric passion, as well as the
hierarchical ordering, that will play so large a part in Ramon
Lull's contemplative experience. With Gilson, as we read Bona-
venture's works, we can almost imagine "a Saint Francis of
Assisi gone philosopher and lecturing at the University of
Paris." "
14
History, p. 340.
Bonaventure (1221-1274)
THE JOURNEY OF THE MIND TO GOD «
THE TEXT
Chapter I
Degrees of the SouVs Ascent: God's Footprints in Creation 16

1. "Happy the man whose help is from Thee, when he hath set
pilgrimages in his heart through the Valley of Tears, to the goal
he hath fixed." 17 Since happiness is nothing else but the enjoy-
ment of the Supreme Good, and the Supreme Good is above us,
no one can be happy who does not rise beyond himself. This
raising up of man is to be understood, of course, of mind and
heart and not of body, and since there is question of reaching
above himself on the part of man, he must be helped by super-
natural strength and be lifted up by a higher power that stoops
to raise him. However much, then, a man's inward steps are
ordered and progress made, it is of no avail unless accompanied
by help from on high. But divine aid is at hand for those who
seek it with a devout and humble heart, and sigh for it in this
Valley of Tears; this is done by fervent prayer. Prayer is, there-
fore, the source and origin of every upward progress that has
God for goal. Wherefore, Dionysius in his "Mystical Theology,"
wishing to instruct us in these transcendent workings of the soul,
sets down prayer as the first condition. Let us each, therefore,
15
Chapters i and 7 are here reproduced by permission of Burns, Oates and
Washbourne, Ltd., from Father James's The Franciscan Vision: Translation
of St. Bonaventure's " Itinerarium mentis in Deum," London, 1937, pp. 13-22,
and 69-74. See the original text in Vol. V of the Quaracchi Opera omnia,
pp^s-s^-
*-6 See G. Boas, tr., Saint Bonaventura: The Minors Road to God, The Liberal
Arts Press, New York, 1953, p. 7, note 1, on the inadequacy of translating
vestigia as "vestiges," "footprints," or even "traces," as he himself does.
Bonaventure simply means, he thinks, "that by considering the work of
art one will know the artist." On the analysis of vestigia, see Gilson, History,
pp. 332 ff., and Squadrani, op. cit., pp. 262 fF.
17 Ps. 83:6-7 (84:5-6).
132
THE JOURNEY OF THE MIND TO GOD 133
have recourse to prayer and say to our Lord God: "Lead me, O
Lord, on thy path, that I may walk in thy truth. Let my heart
rejoice that it feareth thy name." 18
2. By so praying we are led to discern the degrees of the
soul's ascent to God. For, inasmuch as, in our present condi-
tion, this universe of things is a ladder whereby we may ascend
to God, since among these things some are God's footprints,
some God's image, some corporeal, some spiritual, some tem-
poral, some eternal, and, hence, some outside of us, and some
inside, it follows that if we are to attain to the contemplation of
the First Principle and Source of all things, in himself altogether
spiritual, eternal, and above us, we must begin with God's foot-
prints which are corporeal, temporal, and outside us and so
enter on the Way that leads to God. We enter in within our own
souls, which are images of the eternal God, spiritual and in-
terior to us, and this is to enter into the Truth of God. Finally,
we must reach out beyond and above ourselves to the region of
the eternal and supereminently spiritual and look to the First
Principle of all, and that is to enjoy the knowledge of God in
reverential contemplation of his majesty.
3. Here we have the three days' journey in the wilderness:
"The Lord God of the Hebrews hath called us: we will go three
days'journey into the wilderness, to sacrifice unto the Lord, our
God." 19 Here we have also the threefold illumination of the
day in Genesis when the Lord divided the light from darkness,
when the first was evening as it were, the second morning, and
the third was noonday. We have also that triple existence of
things, first in matter, then in mind, and finally in the divine
art, as it is written: "Let it be made, he accomplished, and it
was made." 20 Finally, there is reference to the triple substance
of Christ, who is the Way to God, that is, to the corporeal, the
spiritual, and the divine.
4. In direct relation with this threefold progress of the soul to
God, the human mind has three fundamental attitudes or out-
looks. The first is toward corporeal things without, and in this
respect it is designated as animal or simply sensual; the next is
where it enters in within itself to contemplate itself, and here it
ranks as spirit; the third is where its upward glance is beyond
itself, and then it is designated "mens" or mind.21 In all three
18
Gap. 1, sec. 1; cf. cap. 7, no. 5 of the Itin.; cf. Ps. 85 (86):u; Trip, via,
cap. 2.
19 Ex. 3:18. 20 Gen. 1:3.
21 Gf. Landsberg, op. cit., pp. [77] ff.; Squadrani, op. cit.y p. 260.
134 BONAVENTURE
ways the human soul must prepare to raise itself to God so that
it may love him with the whole mind, with all its heart, and
with its whole soul,22 for in this consists the fullness of the law
and the highest Christian wisdom.23
5. But since every one of the aforesaid modes is doubled,
according as we come to consider God as Alpha and as Omega, 24
or according as we come to contemplate God in each as in and
through a mirror,25 or because each of these modes of contem-
plation may be joined with another, or operative simply and
purely in itself, so it is necessary that these three primary grades
should be raised to the number six; whence, as God completed
the universal world in six days, and rested on the seventh, so the
smaller world of man is led in the most orderly way, by six suc-
cessive grades of illumination, to the quiet of contemplation.
A symbol of this may be seen in the six steps that led to the
throne of Solomon;26 in the six-winged seraphim which Isaiah
beheld in vision;27 in the six days after which God called Moses
from the midst of darkness;28 and in the six days after which, as
read in Matthew, Christ led his disciples up into a mountain,
and was transfigured before them. 29
6. Corresponding to the six degrees of the soul's ascent to God
there are within the soul six kinds of faculties or powers by
which we rise from depths to the heights, from external to
things internal, from things of time to those of eternity, to wit,
sense, imagination, reason, intellect, intelligence, and the fine
point or apex of the soul.30 These powers we have implanted in
us by nature; by sin deformed, they are reformed through
grace; and they must be purified by justice, exercised by knowl-
edge, and made perfect by wisdom.
7. In his primitive constitution man was created by God
capable of untroubled contemplation, and for that reason was
placed by God in a "garden of delights." But, turning his back
on the true light in order to pursue the mutable good, he found
himself, through his own fault, diminished and removed from
his pristine stature. With him the whole human race, through
original sin, was afflicted in a twofold manner: the human mind
22
Mark 12:30.
23
Trip, via, c a p . 3 , n o . 7; cf. Bonnefoy, op. cit., p p . 66 a n d 54 ff.
24 Rev. 1:8.
2
5 As to "per s p e c u l u m et in s p e c u l o , " see S q u a d r a n i , op. cit., p p . 260 ff., a n d
L a n d s b e r g , op. cit., p . [ 7 8 ] .
26 I Kings 10:19. 21 Isa. 6:2.
28Ex. 24:16. 29 Matt. 17:1.
30
Cf. the introduction to the Victorines and notes on the six grades.
by ignorance and the human body by concupiscence. As a re-
sult man, blinded and bent down, sits in darkness and sees not
the light of heaven, unless he be strengthened against con-
cupiscence by grace with justice, and against ignorance by
knowledge with wisdom. All this is done by Jesus Christ, "who
of God is made unto us wisdom and justice and sanctification
and redemption." 31 He, being the Power and Wisdom of God,
the incarnate Word full of grace and truth, is the Author of
both grace and truth. He it is who infuses the grace of charity
which, when it comes "from a pure heart, and a good con-
science, and an unfeigned faith," is capable of ordering the
whole soul according to the threefold aspect above mentioned.
He also taught the knowledge of truth according to the triple
mode of theology: by symbolic theology in which he teaches us
how we might rightly use sensible things, by theology properly
so called wherein we learn the use of things intelligible, and by
mystical theology through contact with which we may be raised
aloft to things unspeakable.32
8. Whoso, therefore, would set out in quest of God must first
leave aside such sins as deform nature, and engage in the exer-
cise of the aforesaid powers of his soul. By prayer he may hope
for grace which will readjust his powers in harmony; in a holy
life he must seek for purifying justice; in meditation he will seek
that knowledge which enlighteneth; in contemplation he will
acquire perfecting wisdom. Therefore, just as no one comes to
wisdom save through grace, justice, and knowledge, so no one
comes to contemplation save by clear-sighted meditation, by a
holy life and devout prayer. As grace is the foundation of an up-
right will, and of a clear-sighted enlightened reason, so we must
first pray, then live holily, and thirdly, we must look long and
attentively at the manifestations of truth; and, so attending, we
must rise, step by step, until we reach the high mountain where
God of gods is seen in Sion.33
9. Since it is imperative first to make the ascent of Jacob's
ladder before we can hope to descend, let us place the first step
of the ascent at the bottom, holding up this whole sensible
world before us as a mirror, through which we may rise to God,
31 I Cor. 1:30.
3 2 Scilicet symbolicae, propriae et mysticae . . . per mysticam rapiamur ad super-
mentales excessus, Opera omnia, V , 298; Bonnefoy, op. cit., p p . 72 ff.
33 See Trip, via, Prol., a n d its references t o Dionysius, Htir. c4L9 I I I , 2, V I I ,
3, I X , 2, a n d X , e t c . ; Hiir. eccL, I , 2; H u g h ' s Didascalion, L i b . I l l , c a p . 11,
etc. P s . 8 3 : 8 (84:7).
136 BONAVENTURE
the supreme Craftsman. In that way we shall be true Israelites
passing forth from the land of Egypt to the land of promise, and
also true Christians going forth from this world to the Father,
and lovers of wisdom who answer the call which says: "Come
unto me all ye that desire me, and be ye filled with mine off-
spring." "For from the greatness and beauty of created things,
their Creator may be seen and known." 34
10. The supreme wisdom, power, and benevolence of the
Creator are reflected in all created things. This is intimated in
a threefold manner by the adjustment of external and internal
senses in man. The bodily senses minister to the mind, whether
it be engaged in rational investigation, in docile faith, or in in-
tellectual contemplation. In contemplation it considers the
actual existence of things; in faith it examines the unfolding
of events; and in reasoning it surmises their potential pre-excel-
lence.
11. The first point of view, which is that of contemplation,
considering things in themselves, discerns in them weight, num-
ber, and measure: weight which marks the point to which they
tend, number whereby they are distinguished, and measure
whereby they are limited. Hereby it sees in things mode, species,
order, as well as substance, virtue, and action, from which the
mind may arise, as from footprints, to the knowledge of the
power, wisdom, and boundless goodness of the Creator.
12. The second point of view, which is that of faith, when it
considers the universe, goes on to reflect upon its origin, its
course, and its end. For "by faith we understand that the world
was framed by the word of God." 35 By faith we know that the
three epochs—of nature, of the law, and of grace—have suc-
ceeded one another in order. By faith we know that the world
will terminate with a final judgment. In the first, we observe
God's power; in the second, his providence; and in the third,
his justice.
13. The third point of view, that of reason, when it inves-
tigates the universe recognizes that some things have only being,
others being and life, and others possess not only being and life
but knowledge and discernment. This gives us three levels of
reality, ranging from lowest to highest. From this viewpoint,
also, it is clear that some things are merely corporeal, and some
partly corporeal and partly spiritual, while others, ranking
highest in perfection and dignity, are purely spiritual. Likewise
some things, it is seen, are mutable and corruptible, such as
13:5. 35Heb. 11:3.
terrestrial things; others are mutable and incorruptible, such as
celestial bodies; whence it may be concluded that some things
are both immutable and incorruptible, such as supercelestial
things. From these visible things, therefore, the human mind
rises up to consider the power and goodness and wisdom of God
in whom reside Being and Life and Intelligence, in a purely
spiritual, incorruptible, and immutable state.
14. This reflection may be amplified and rounded off by
taking into account the sevenfold condition of all creatures as a
witness to the power and goodness and wisdom of God. Thus
we may consider apart the origin, magnitude, multitude, beauty,
plenitude, action, and order of all things. For the origin of
things, in respect to their creation, their distinction and splendor
as seen in the work of the six days, proclaims the power of God,
producing all things from nothing; the wisdom of God, clearly
arranging and distinguishing all things; the goodness of God,
generously adorning all things. The immensity of creation
according to mass in length, breadth, and depth, and according
to the excellence of power extending itself in length, breadth,
and depth as is revealed in the diffusion of light, and according
to the efficacy of action, intimate, continuous, and diffused as is
manifested in the action of fire, brings home to us the power and
wisdom and goodness of the triune God, who is uncircum-
scribed by space and who is present to all created things by his
power, his presence, and his essence. The multitude of things
created in respect to their diversity, general, special, and individ-
ual, in substance and in form or figure, and in efficacy, beyond
all human estimation, manifestly insinuates and displays the
immensity of the three above-mentioned conditions in God. The
beauty of things, in respect of their variety of light, figure, and
color, in bodies simple, mixed, and organized, as in the
heavenly bodies and minerals, as in stones and metals, plants
and animals, likewise proclaims these same three divine quali-
ties. The plenitude of things, matter being full of forms by virtue
of its rationes seminales,36 forms being full of power, and ordained
to efficacy, manifestly announces the same conclusion. See the
manifold and diverse character of activity in the universe
according as it is natural, artificial, or moral and realize that
its very variety points to the immensity of that power, art, and
goodness which indeed is to all things the cause of their being,
the ground of their understanding, and the ultimate reason of
their harmony. The order to be discerned in the book of
30 "Seminal reasons"; cf. Boas, op. cit., p. 13.
I38 BONAVENTURE
creation, in respect to the ratio of duration, situation, and in-

fluence, namely, by first and last, superior and inferior, noble
and ignoble, indicates the primacy, sublimity, and dignity of
the First Principle in relation to the infinitude of power. In the
book of the Scriptures the order of the divine laws, precepts, and
judgments indicates the immensity of divine wisdom, and in the
body of the Church the order of the divine sacraments, benefits,
and retributions indicates the treasures of God's goodness. The
very existence of order leads us thus by the hand to that which
is first and highest, mightiest, wisest, and best.
15. Whosoever, then, misses this all-pervading splendor of
things, and is not enlightened to behold it, is blind; he who is
not awakened by such thunders is deaf; he who, looking on such
effects, is not prompted to praise is dumb; and he who in the
presence of such intimations of God does not behold the First
Principle of creation must be pronounced a fool. Open, there-
fore, thine eyes; draw near with ears of spiritual hearing; unseal
thy lips and apply thy heart, that in all created things thou
mayest see, hear, praise, love, magnify, and honor God, lest
perchance the universal frame of things should rise up against
thee. A time will come when for this reason the whole universe
will fight against the foolish 37 and on that day it will redound to
the glory of the wise who can say with the prophet: "For thou
gladdenest me, Lord, by thy deeds; I rejoice o'er the works of
thy hands." 38 "How manifold are thy works, O Lord. All of
them in wisdom thou hast made. The earth is full of thy crea-
tions." 39
Chapter VII
The Quiet of Contemplation
1. In its progress toward the possession of God the soul has
now passed through six stages. The number of these gradients in
the journey of the soul is not without its own significance. Six
steps led up to the throne of Solomon and to peace, where, as in
some inner Jerusalem, the true man of peace reposed in peace
of soul. Six wings too enveloped the seraph, thereby suggesting
to us a picture of the true contemplative raised up from things
of earth and enlightened by supernal wisdom. And in six days
was the labor of creation completed before the rest of the Sab-
bath supervened. Recall these six stages of human progress to-
ward the quiet of contemplation. In the first, the soul was led to
38 39
37 Wis. 5:21. Ps. 91:5 (92:4). Ps. 103 (io4):24.
THE JOURNEY OF THE MIND TO GOD I39
God by going out to external things to admire in them the work
of God's creative power. Then, looking at creation, the soul be-
held God's footprints upon the world's surface: the material
world became a mirror in which it beheld its God. Next, turning
its attention inward to itself, the soul began to reach God from
a consideration of itself as God's created image, and then a
further step was made when it began to behold God in the
mirror of its renovated being. Whereupon, the soul was led to
raise its gaze above and beyond itself, seeking, as it were, the
light of God's countenance and rejoicing in its own progress.
But no rest was possible until it found God in his own reflected
light, for all this progress was achieved in a degree suitable for
those who are still pilgrims on the way to God and who must
depend upon their own efforts to scale the heights of contempla-
tion. But when the soul shall have reached the sixth step and
begun to contemplate the First and Highest Principle of all and
Jesus Christ, the Mediator of God and man, then it shall have
contact with spiritual things, so sublime that any comparison
with created things becomes impossible and so deeply mys-
terious that all intellectual keenness is unavailing. Then it will
be swept up, not only beyond the wonders of all creation, but
out of its very self and above it. By means of Jesus Christ, the
Way, the Door, the Ladder, shall this transition be effected, for
he is, as it were, the Seat of Mercy, placed over the ark of God,
and the Sacrament hidden from the ages.
2. With face fully turned toward this Seat of Mercy, seeing
him hanging on the cross, in faith, hope, charity, devotion, de-
light, exaltation, appreciation, praise, and jubilation, the soul
is ready to celebrate its Passover, that is, its transition from
things of time to the eternal, passing over, by the power of the
Cross, the Red Sea into the desert, where it will begin to taste the
hidden manna, there to rest in the tomb of Christ, to all appear-
ance dead, yet experiencing, in so far as a pilgrim may, what
was promised on the hill of Calvary to the good thief: "This day
thou shalt be with me in paradise." 40
3. This was the vision of Blessed Francis on the lofty moun-
tain, where he was raised into an ecstasy of contemplation 41
and upon which I thought out the things here written. To him
appeared a six-winged seraph fastened to a cross. From the
companion who was with him when these things happened and
when he was taken up by God in ecstasy, I and many others
40
Luke 23:43.
41
Cum in excessu contemplationis in monte excelso. . . .
140 BONAVENTURE
have gathered this account. In this, Blessed Francis, another

Jacob become Israel, is for us a perfect model of the contempla-
tive life, just as hitherto he had proved himself outstanding in
the life of action, so that more by the force of his example than
by word, God invited the truly spiritual to seek after such quiet
of contemplation and ecstasy of soul as was experienced by him
on Mount Alvernia.42
4. If this transition, however, is to be genuine and perfect,
then must all labor on the part of the soul's reasoning faculty
cease and the soul's deep affection be centered in God and
transformed, as it were, into him. So mysterious and sublime is
this experience that none save he to whom it has been given
knows anything of it, that nobody receives except he who de-
sires it, and this desire comes to him only whose being is in-
flamed by the fire of the Holy Spirit sent by Christ upon the
earth. Hence it is that the "hidden things" of God were revealed,
as the apostle says, by the Holy Ghost.43
5. Since, therefore, to arrive at this rapturous state of soul
nature is of no avail and human industry of comparatively little
value, little heed must be paid to inquiry but much to unction,
little account must be taken of human language but much of in-
ternal experience of joy, attention must be weaned away from
words and writing so as to concentrate on God's gift to man, his
Holy Spirit. In a word, the human soul must turn away its eyes
from all created essences to fix them on the uncreated Essence
of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; the words of
Dionysius must well up within it and address themselves to the
triune God: " O supereminent and transcendent Holy Trinity,
inspiration of all Christian philosophy, direct our steps to the
unknown, sublime, and resplendent heights of mystic utter-
ances. On these heights are to be found the new, the absolutely
unquestionable and unchanging, mysteries of theology, hidden
away, as it were, in the obscurity of excessively lightsome dark-
ness and illuminating silence. Here on these heights, so resplend-
ent in their excessive light, men are enlightened and spiritual
souls are filled with the splendors of the true good." These
things we address to God. But to the friend to whom this writing
is directed we also speak and say: Do thou, O friend, push on
boldly to the mystic vision, abandon the work of the senses and
42 Life of Francis, ch. 13; Trip, via, c a p . 1, nos. 15-17; c a p . 3 , nos. 1, 8, 11-14;
cf. G e n . 35:10.
43 I Cor. 2:10. Cf. Dionysius, Mystical Theology, cap. 3 , a n d Divine Names,
c a p . 7, no. 3 .
the operations of the reasoning faculty, leave aside all things
visible and invisible, being and nonbeing, and cleave as far as
possible, and imperceptibly, to the unity of Him who tran-
scends all essences and all knowledge. In this immeasurable and
absolute elevation of soul,44 forgetting all created things and
liberated from them, thou shalt rise above thyself and beyond all
creation to find thyself within the shaft of light that flashes out
from the divine, mysterious darkness.45
6. But if thou wouldst know how such things are accom-
plished, then ask grace, not learning; desire, not understanding;
the groanings of prayer, not industry in study; the Spouse, not
the master; God, not man; obscurity, not clarity. Seek not so
much light as fire which inflames one totally, filling the soul
with unction and ardent desires, and raising it out of its very
self aloft to God. This fire is indeed God, whose "furnace is in
Jerusalem." 46 It was kindled on earth by the Man Jesus, in the
fervor of his most ardent passion. In this fervor he participates
who can say: "My soul hath chosen strangling and my bones
death." 47 He shall see God who chooses such a death, for it is
undoubtedly true that "man shall not see me and live." 48 Let
us die, therefore, and by the door of death enter into this dark-
ness. Let us impose silence on our anxieties, our concupiscences,
and upon the working of our imagination. Let us, with Christ
crucified, pass from this world to the Father, that when he shall
be revealed to us we may say with Philip, "It is enough for
us." 49 Let us listen with St. Paul to the words: "My grace is
sufficient for thee." 50 Let us cry out exultingly with David:
"My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my
heart and my portion for ever." 51 "Blessed be the Lord for
evermore; and let all the people say: Amen and Amen." 52
44
Etenim te ipso et omnibus immensurabili et absolute purae mentis excessu. . . .
45
See t h e Mystical Theology, c a p . 1, n o , 1, a n d o u r introduction t o Diony-
sius. Note the relation of the Trip, via, cap. 3, no. 13, to the negative and
affirmative ways of Dionysius as well as the Mystical Theology, caps. 1-5,
and the Hit. cil., cap. 2, no. 3. See the notes, 1-3, to the Itin., cap. 7, no.
5, in the Opera omnia, Vol. V, p. 313. Cf. Dionysius the Carthusian, De
contemplation, Lib. I l l , art. 8, on Dionysius the Areopagite, Opera omnia,
Tournai, 1912, Vol. XLI, pp. 263-64, and the divina caligo. Cf. Bonnefoy,
op. cit., pp. 69 ff., on this light flashing out "from the divine mysterious
darkness." Cf. Squadrani, op. cit., pp. 284-86 and notes. Note that Bona-
venture employs the edition of Scotus Eriugena (MPL 122) for Dionysius.
4 47 48
* Isa. 31:9. Job 7:15. Ex. 33:20.
4
* John 14:8. so II Cor. 12:9.
5i Ps. 72 (73):26. 52 p s . 88:53 (89:52).
V
Ramon Lull (c. 1232-1313)
INTRODUCTION
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
r AMON LULL WAS BORN IN 1 2 3 2 , OR P E R H A P S 1 2 3 5 ,

of noble Catalan parents at Palma in Mallorca. About
^1246 he entered the service of King Don Jaimie II. In
1257, after a period of courtly amours, he married. He was con-
verted sometime between 1263 and 1265. The years 1265 to
12 74 were given over to study and writing, with The Great Book
of Contemplation being produced between 1272 and 1277. In all
his literary productivity and traveling, the missionary aims of
his life were paramount. These were the motivation for his lec-
turing, establishing language schools such as the Mallorcan
college of Miramar founded in 1276, and his visiting temporal
and spiritual princes as well as Church councils. He may have
entered the religious life as early as 1275, with initial affinities
for the Dominicans and possible membership in the Franciscan
Third Order in 1292 or 1295. Fro m J277 to 1282 he traveled
widely. He first attended the Dominican Chapter general in
1283, the year of his beginning The Blanquerna. This was red-
olent of Franciscan ideals though he did not visit the Minors'
Chapter general until 1287. He carried on various missionary
enterprises in Asia (1279), Armenia (1302), Africa (1280, 1292
or 1293, 1306, 1314-1315). He wrote over three hundred works
in Catalan and Latin, of which the Grand Art was one of the
most famous. In spite of his lacking a degree, he lectured at
Paris with varying degrees of approval in 1287-1289, 1297-
1299, and 1309-1311. He attended the council of Vienne in
1311 to press for language teaching preparatory to effective
Christian missions. His last missionary journey was in North
Africa, where he was stoned by a mob of Arabs at Bugia in
Tunis. According to legend he expired thereupon, June 29,
142
INTRODUCTION 143
1315, but he may have returned to Palma to die of his wounds
as late as 1316.
The best biography in English is A. E. Peers, Ramon Lull,
S.P.C.K., London, 1929. See the anonymous Vida coetdnia, ed.,
F. D. Moll, Palma de Mallora, 1935. Compare the Latin Vita,
edited by J. B. Sollier, in the Acta sanctorum, re-edited by J. Car-
nandet, Paris and Rome, 1867, June, Vol. 7, pp. 606-618; also
the Mayence edition of the Opera, Vol. I, pp. 1-12, below. See
L. Wadding, Annales minorum, Quaracchi, 1931-1935, Vols. 4-6.
Source literature is fully given in Peers and with specialized de-
tails in Petry, "Social Responsibility and the Late Medieval
Mystics," Church History, Vol. 21, no. 1 (March, 1952), pp. 5-7,
16-17. The works are available in the Opera omnia, ed., Y. Sal-
zinger et al., 8 vols., 1-6, 9-10, Mayence, 1721-1742, and in the
Obres, 14 vols., Palma de Mallorca, 1906-1928. An invaluable
study is C. Ottaviano, Lars compendiosa de R. Lull, J. Vrin,
Paris, 1930, with chronological orientation of Lull's works. P.
Golubovich, Biblioteca Bio-Bibliografica della Terra Santa, Quarac-
chi, 1906, Vol. I, pp. 361-392 gives a useful vita, chronology,
and literature. Helpful resumes are supplied by M. P. E.
Littre and B. Haureau, in the Histoire litteraire de la France, Vol.
29 (Paris, 1885), pp. 1-386; by E. Longpre in Diet, theol. cath.,
Vol. 9, no. 1 (Paris, 1926), pp. 1072-1141; and by P. O.
Keicher, "Raymundus Lullus und seine Stellung zur arabischen
Philosophic," Beitrdge, Vol. 7, pts. 4-5 (Minister i/W, 1909),
pp. 1-223. An excellent study with a newly edited text of the
Catalan Art of Contemplation, is J. H. Probst, "La mystique de
Ramon Lull et l'art de contemplacio" in the Beitrdge, Vol. 13,
pts. 2-3 (Minister i/W, 1914), pp. 1-126. See Peers, op. cit.,
pp. 170, 415 ff., for Lull's Franciscanism.
SYNOPSIS
Ramon Lull was a true son of Francis. His earliest spiritual
associations upon leaving family, wealth, and the world seem,
perhaps, more specifically oriented to the Preaching Order than
to the Friars Minor. Yet these orders appear for him, from the
very first, to have played mutually reinforcing roles.
As frequently observed, Lull follows closely the path of Bona-
venture's Itinerarium. Here is the hierarchical ordering in which
one makes the meditational ascent from creatures through man
144 RAMON LULL
on the way to God and his attributes.1 This is the route de-
scribed in the little Catalan work, the Art de contemplacid.2
The Liber contemplations, or The Great Book of Contemplation^
distinguishes three main steps in this ascent to God, of which the
first two are the sensible and the intellectual and the third an
experience of mystic union that is accomplished by an ecstatic
encounter of the human "Lover" and the divine "Beloved." It
may be added that this encounter is at once affective and intel-
lectual; that "it is neither pantheist, nor Freudian, nor abnor-
mal." 4
Ramon Lull, so often and so exclusively identified with the
involved ratiocinations of the Grand Art, is certainly as much the
protagonist of medieval Catholicism against Averroism and
non-Christian faiths as he has been pictured. He is, however,
something more. He is the mystic and poet as well. Thus the
Lull who so consistently resorts to logic and geometric schema-
tizations in the Grand Art must also be represented, in quite a
different guise, as the clear, simple Franciscan. Having accepted
with Bonaventure the necessity of philosophizing the truths of
Christianity, Lull, in keeping with Bonaventure as well, strives
to reincarnate thereby the direct, heart-moving Poverello. Even
more than Bonaventure, however, Lull succeeds in throwing off
the philosopher's mantle on occasion in order to wear5 like
Francis himself, the unassuming garb of the vernacular poet. In
so doing Lull is, indeed, the Franciscan realist and exemplarist;
at one and the same time, the contemplative and the man of
action that both Francis and John Fidanza had been.5
Granted that Lull was a psychologist, he was much more. His
mystical writings clearly portray the practicing troubadour of
the renounced spirit. The Blanquerna, for instance, from which
the diverse passages of this anthology are drawn, has the char-
acter of a spiritual confession. The chief characters, whether the
Court fool, the Lover, or Blanquerna himself, suggest Lull per-
sonified. The Lull who argues for the faith in the ponderous
tomes of the Latin treatises is not here repudiated. But, whereas
1
DS II, 1991; Probst, op. cit., pp. 2, 7-12.
2
See the Probst edition, pp. 58-104, of the brief Catalan Art de contemplacid
(cf. Obres, Vol. 9) and the Mallorcan text of the extended Libre de contem-
placio en Deu in Vols. 2-8 of the Obres.
3 The Latin text, also entitled Liber magnus contemplationum in Deum, is Vol. 9
(1740) and Vol. 10 (1742) in the Mayence edition of the Opera omnia.
Compare the Catalan text in the Obres, Vols. 2-8, cited in note 2. See Peers,
4
Ramon Lull, ch. 3. DS II, 1991; cf. Probst, op. cit., pp. 1-2.
s Peers, op. cit., pp. 401 ff., 415 ff.
INTRODUCTION I45
in the former he celebrates the hierarchies by way of geometric
demonstrations and learned dialectics, in the latter effusions of
the vernacular Contemplation, for example, he is the burning
Franciscan joculator of poverty and love. The incontestably
authentic Catalan works, such as the Lover and the Beloved and
The Art of Contemplation, are now incorporated in the spiritual
romance, The Blanquerna. These depict the Franciscan poet and
mystic singing the same faith so weightily set forth elsewhere.
The exemplarist realism, at once Augustinian and Franciscan,
that has been remarked in the Latin treatises is here subsumed
as basically sound and continuously operative. Now, however,
in the poetic appeal of the vernacular works, the inner reserves
of the philosopher-dialectician are broken down. Never one to
accent rapturous states unduly, Lull is here, nonetheless, a
willing revealer of his inner inquiries, yearnings, and devotions.
And the poet-mystic who emerges is a far cry from the wooden
artificer of the Grand Art, or the half-deranged eccentric of
popular misconception. His is an inspiringly balanced unity of
mind and heart speaking by way of prose-poetry, in vernacular
power, to the heart of the Christian ages.6
It has been well said that, for Lull, mysticism is not cold, dead
knowledge, but something mobile, varied, and as impassioned
as life itself. This is the language of love, the effusion of passion-
ate affection for the Creator, who is the highest Good, the most
absolute Beauty. However reticent about ecstatic claims, the
Lord's chevalier, like Francis also, shares his actual joys in
rhythmic cadences of disciplined ardor. And, even as for
Francis, so for Ramon, trees, lights, fountains, water, air, and all
animate beings elicit his praises of the divine Spirit, who made
and rules the entire universe beneficently. The poet, the painter
of inner experiences, the dreamer of celestial visions shimmering
in the lights and shadows of a divine-human world, here
emerges in the unified sentiment of renunciatory love.
Not all of Lull's vernacular writing is sheer affectivity any
more than his entire corpus is poetry. The Book of the Lover and
the Beloved has its foundation of metaphysics and systematic
theology, even as the little Art of Contemplation has its lambent,
prayerful poesy. We may rightfully insist on an ambivalence of
the intellectual and the affective in these as in all other works of
Lull. True, there is gradation in the mystical life, explicating a
diversity of expressions and experiences, whether primarily
<* Probst, op. cit., pp. 1-7. See the Catalan text of The Blanquerna in the Obres,
Vol. 9, pp. 3-490-
10—L.M.M.
I46 RAMON LULL
affective or intellectual. At the apex, of course, is ecstasy, a rare,
fleeting union with the beloved object, an ineffable familiarity
with God. Below this is a semiecstatic state of union wherein the
soul is preoccupied with the divine objects and not distracted by
other thoughts. It is characterized by a very exalted love in-
expressible except by way of affective metaphors. Lower still is
a state of quietude, where the divine action on the contempla-
tive's heart is still more or less hindered by intellectual
abstraction. Here the ordinary, day-by-day, mental life is not
obliterated or wholly replaced by the affective.
But whatever the gradatory of contemplative or active life,
there is always apparent Lull's consistent love imagery, his en-
counter, at whatever level, of the Lover with his Beloved. It is a
commonplace that, before his conversion, Lull moved at will
in a world of sensuous love such as Francis had once envisioned
afar. The life of the jongleur, of troubadours, and of beautiful
ladies had been for him much more than an imaginative foray.
He was no knight of fancy but rather one of all too evident
fleshliness. However theoretical any speculation may be as to
what effect a less concupiscent background might have had on
his later spiritual amours, one thing is certain: The later, mys-
tical loves of the Lover seeking his Beloved have all the overtones
of actual chivalric existence transmuted into heavenly com-
merce. Like Francis, Ramon is the troubadour of the spirit, the
poet of inner gallantry, the Franciscan renunciant following
with courtly force the gentle, yet brutal, realism of the crucified
Poverello.7
Ramon Lull is, then, a meditative renunciant who also re-
veals to his readers his own personal experiences within the
hierarchy of worlds, i.e., the divine, human, and natural. His
mystical writings mix didactic moralism, ascetic admonitions,
and mystical confessions. In hierarchical benediction, the lower
world serves for the understanding of the higher; it permits the
passage from finite to infinite. Reflecting upon the profound im-
plications of nature and life, Lull progresses to the comprehen-
sion of the soul and of human destiny, from which he mounts to
the knowledge of God and his majestic intent for the universe.
Not only in the Grand Art and in The Great Book of Contemplation,
but also in The Blanquerna and in other mystical works, Ramon
conveys his exemplarist assumptions. More and more, the
divine Lord, the One passionately beloved of the human lover,
is encountered in the ascent from the world of creatures,
7 Probst, op. cit., p. 7.
INTRODUCTION I47
through the world of the human soul, to the world of the divine
consummation. Everywhere divine love shows the way, even as
human love thereby learns to follow in the way.
And the way outlined is that of the Poor Man of Galilee; the
renounced Lord who comes down into the hands of priests in
the Mass; the teaching, preaching, loving Master of all life who
calls upon his followers for a sacrificial, missionary evangelism
among the infidels. In The Blanquerna as we have it today, then,
the whole story is unfolded. The little Art of Contemplation now
attached to The Blanquerna is the most typical expression of
Lullian mysticism after the Book of the Lover and the Beloved,
which it completes and explains. The Art of Contemplation con-
tains the epitome of Ramon's ascetic and mystical principles
without the redundancies and reduplications of the larger trea-
tises. T h e Book of the Lover and the Beloved exalts the divine
majesty even while it pays tribute to the Augustinian, Francis-
can psychology of memory, understanding, and will. Nature is
heavily levied upon as a stage in the contemplation of the Crea-
tor. Properly employing the fittingly disciplined imagination,
one may, in contemplating creatures, discover divine participa-
tions in corporal things. Exalting these divine workings as seen
in spiritual objects, to which one applies his understanding, one
goes on by an act of will to adore these divine participations in
the created universe. A similar hierarchical concern is spelled
out in the little Art of Contemplation.
All the chapters of the Art are prayers to God or meditations
on his magisterial grandeur. They are systematic reflections on
the sacraments, on the divinely approved virtues, even as they
are aspersions against the disapproved actions, the vices. Here,
above all, is the spiritual reporting of a spirit capable of reflect-
ing, and of leading others to meditate, upon nature, the innsr
world of man, and God, in order that all may come into the
realm transcendent.
In resume, one finds in Ramon Lull, generally, and in The
Blanquerna, especially, the drama of Franciscan renunciation.
Lull is the follower of the Poor Christ; the court fool for human
kings; the court troubadour and sweet singer of God's praises in
the heavenly mansions. He is the preacher and teacher of the
gospel; the disputer and proclaimer of Catholic truth; the mis-
sionary for the heavenly gentry and the Queen of Heaven
among the world's unbelievers; the knight of the poor Lord and
the gracious Lady. Above all, he is the practicer of The Art of
Contemplation, the reader and teacher out of the Book of the Lover
148 RAMON LULL
and the Beloved. He capitalizes the mind, the university, the
monastery, the pontificate, for Christian instruction and evan-
gelization via the learned disciplines and the world's languages.
He lays hold upon the heart for the visions, the inner move-
ments of the spirit, the propulsive affections of the soul that lead
to divine union.8
s Ibid., pp. 7-30.
Ramon Lull (c. 1232-1315)
THE BLANQUERNA*: THE LULLIAN IDEAL
THE TEXT
Chapter LXXX
Gloria in Excelsis Deo

The Pope Blanquerna went into the consistory with the
cardinals to the end that through their good works glory might
be given to God in the heavens; 10 and the pope said to the
cardinals that he prayed them that they would assist him to use
his office to the glory of God, in such wise that they might be
able to bring men back to the first intent of the offices and the
sciences, namely, that glory might be given to God; for the
world has come to such a sinful state that there is scarce any
man who has his intent directed toward that thing for the which
he was created, nor for the which he holds the office which is his.
While the pope spake thus with the cardinals, a Saracen mes-
senger came before him and the cardinals, and presented to him
a letter from the soldan of Babylon. In that letter were written
many things, and among them the soldan said to the pope that
he marveled greatly concerning him, and concerning all the
kings and princes of the Christians, that in conquering the Holy
Land beyond the seas they acted according to the manner of the
prophet Mahomet, who held by force of arms the lands which
he conquered. He marveled that the pope and the Christians
worked not after the manner of Jesus Christ and of the apostles,
who through preaching and through martyrdom converted the
world, and that they followed not the manner of those who pre-
ceded them in conquering other countries; for this cause, he
9
The English text here utilized is that of Blanquerna: A Thirteenth Century
Romance, translated from the Catalan of Ramon Lull by E. Allison Peers,
London, 1925, pp. 322-31, 411 ff., 485-88, 492-96. Used by permission of
Jarrolds Publishers. The Catalan text is Vol. 9 of the Obres, Commissio
Editora Lulliana, Palma de Mallorca, 1914.
10 En los eels.
150 RAMON LULL
said, God willed not that they should possess the Holy Land be-
yond the seas.11 These letters the Saracen brought to the holy
Apostolic Father, and like letters brought he to the kings and
princes of the Christians. Deeply thought the pope and the
cardinals upon the words which the soldan had written to them;
and Ramon the Fool 12 spake these words: "Faith sent Hope to
Contrition, that she might send her Devotion and Pardon, to
the end that they might honor her in those places wherein her
Beloved is dishonored." The Jester of Valor said that Valor is
brought to great dishonor in those places wherein the Son of
God and the apostles did her more grace and honor than in any
place that is in the world. After these words there entered the
court a messenger bringing the news that two unbelievers had
been suborned to slay a Christian king, and that they had now
themselves been delivered up to a cruel death. When he had
spoken these words, the Jester of Valor said: "Of what avail are
the humility and charity of Jesus Christ which he had himself
toward his people, when he willed to suffer passion of them, if
unbelievers, who are in error, have greater devotion in dying
for their master than have Christians in honoring their
superior?" The Fool saw two cardinals speaking, and he supposed
that they spake of his Beloved, but they spake of the election of
two bishops who had been elected after a contest; wherefore the
Fool said to the cardinals that the most pleasant words are those
that are between the Lover and the Beloved.
2. The pope was marvelously moved to ordain how that ex-
ample might be given of the faith of Holy Church and how the
devotion to the honor of God which aforetime existed might
return; so he sent messengers throughout divers lands to the
superiors of religious houses and to the Masters of the Temple
and of the Hospital that they should come to speak with him
concerning the making of ordinances whereby glory should be
given to God. When all these had come, and were before the
pope and the cardinals, Ramon the Fool spake thus: "The Lover
and the Beloved met, and kept silence with their tongues; and
their eyes, wherewith they made signs of love, were in tears; and
the love of the one spake with the love of the other." "This
story," said the Jester of Valor, "has relation to that which has
been reported to the Holy Father and the cardinals concerning
the soldan and the assassins; and if naught that is useful follows
11 We may recall Roger Bacon's like concern for preaching missions.
12
Note Ramon's dual role in representing Blanquerna's ideals and his own
—actually two projections of the same renunciatory theme.
T H E B L A N Q U E R N A : THE LULLIAN IDEAL 151
therefrom, great wrong is done to Valor, and the most honorable
of creatures, who die for love, are not loved; albeit it is of greater
valor that lovers should speak the one to the other than that
mouths should eat." The Fool said: "A certain man wrote, and
in a book he wrote the names of lovers and loved, and a man
that was a lover inquired of him if in that book he had written
the name of his beloved; and he that wrote said to him: 'Hast
thou eaten food that was cooked with the fire of love? And hast
thou washed thine hands with the tears of thine eyes? And
art thou inebriated and become as a fool through the love which
thou hast drunk? Hast thou ever been in peril that thou mightest
honor thy beloved? Hast thou the materials of love wherewith a
man may make ink for thy beloved to write? If all these things
be not so, then is thy beloved not worthy to be written of in this
book.'"
3. After these words, the pope and the cardinals and the
Religious, to honor the glory of God, ordained that to all monks
that had learning there should be assigned friars to teach divers
languages, and that throughout the world there should be
builded divers houses, which for their needs should be suffi-
ciently provided and endowed, according to the manner of the
monastery of Miramar, which is in the island of Majorca.13
Right good seemed this ordinance to the pope and to all the
rest, and the pope sent messengers through all the lands of the
unbelievers to bring back certain of them to learn their language
and that they at Rome might learn the tongues of these un-
believers, and that certain men should return with them to
preach to the others in these lands, and that of those unbelievers
that learned Latin, and gained a knowledge of the holy Catholic
faith, should be given money and garments and palfreys, that
they might praise the Christians, who when they had returned
to their own lands would continue to assist and maintain them.
4. Of the whole world the pope made twelve parts, and
appointed to represent him twelve men, who should go each one
throughout his part and learn of its estate, to the end that the
pope might know the estate of the whole world. It came to pass
that those who went to the unbelievers brought from Alexan-
dria and from Georgia and from India and Greece Christians
13
A continuing preoccupation with Lull, culminating in his only partly
successful plea to the council of Vienne in 1311. Gf. Petry, "Social Re-
sponsibility," Church History, Vol. 21, no. 1, pp. 6-7, and note 19, pp. 16-
17, for the sources; cf. H. J. Schroeder, Disciplinary Decrees of the General
Councils, St. Louis, 1937, pp. 395~96> 615-16.
I52 R- MON LULL
who were monks, that they might dwell among us, and that
their will might be united with the will of our monks, and that
during this union and relationship they might be instructed in
divers manners concerning certain errors against the faith, and
should then go and instruct those that were in their country.
Wherefore the pope sent also some of our monks to the monks
aforesaid, and ordered that each year they should send to him a
certain number of their friars, that they might dwell with us,
and, while they dwelt among us, learn our language.
5. ''Beloved sons!" said the pope to the monks: "Jews and
Saracens are among us who believe in error, and disbelieve and
despise the holy faith whereby we are bound to honor the glory
of God. I desire and ask that to these Jews and Saracens who
are in the lands of the Christians there be assigned certain per-
sons to teach them Latin and to expound the Scriptures, and
that within a certain time they shall learn these, and if they have
not done so, that there shall follow punishment; and while they
learn let them be provided for from the possessions of Holy
Church; and after they have learned let them be made free men
and honored above all others, and then will they convert their
fellows and be the better fitted to understand the truth and to
convert these others."
6. When the pope had spoken these words, the chamberlain
said that, if the pope made this establishment, the Jews and the
Saracens that are among the Christians would take flight to other
lands and the income of Holy Church would be diminished.
But Ramon the Fool said to the chamberlain: "Once on
a time a man loved a woman, and said to her that he loved her
more than any woman beside, and the woman enquired of him
wherefore he loved her more than any other woman, and he re-
plied that it was because she was fairer than any. The woman
made sign with her hand in a certain direction, saying that in
that direction there was a woman that was fairer; and when the
man turned and looked in that direction the woman said that if
there were another woman that was fairer, he would love her
more, and this signified that his love to her was not perfect."
The Jester of Valor said that if there were another thing better
than God the chamberlain would love it more than God; so
there was question among them which thing was the more con-
trary to the glory of God and to Valor, whether the diminution
of the income of Holy Church or the dishonor which the Jews
and the Saracens show to the glory of God and to Valor.
7. As the pope desired, even so was it ordained. After this the
THE BLANQUERNA: THE LULLIAN IDEAL 153
pope enquired of the Masters of the Temple and of the Hospital
what part they would take in honoring the glory of God, and
both these Masters answered and said that they were already in
the Holy Land beyond the seas to defend that land and to give
example of the Catholic faith. The Jester enquired of Ramon the
Fool if the love which he had to his Beloved was growing in
proportion as his Beloved gave him greater pleasures. The Fool
answered: "If I could love him more, it would follow that I
should love him less if he diminished the pleasures which he
gives me." And he said likewise that, since he could not do other
than love his Beloved, neither could he increase the love which
he bore to him; but the trials which he suffered grew daily, and
the greater they were, the more were the joys increased which
he had in loving his Beloved." The holy Apostolic Father said to
the two Masters that from that which was signified by the afore-
said words, it followed that to honor the glory of God both the
Masters should make ordinance whereby an Order should be
created, that the Jester of Valor should not cry out upon the
dishonor which is done to Valor by disputes concerning that
wherein there would be agreement if they made an Order. He
said furthermore that they should use their houses and master-
ships to make schools and places of study wherein their knights
should learn certain brief arguments, by means of the Brief Art
of Finding Truth) that they might prove the articles of the holy
faith and give counsel to Masters, princes, and prelates through
the art aforesaid; and that they might learn divers languages,
and go to kings and princes of the unbelievers that one knight
might challenge another to maintain, by feats of arms or by
learning, the honor and truth which beseem the valor that is in
the holy Catholic faith.14 The ordinance afore-mentioned was
granted to the pope by the two Masters and by all the friars of
their Order, and Ramon the Fool spake these words: "Humil-
ity conquered Pride, and the Lover said to his Beloved, 'If thou,
Beloved, wert to die, I should go to weep upon thy tomb.' And
the Beloved answered, 'Weep before the Cross, which is my
monument.' The Lover wept bitterly, and said that through
14
Regarding the combination of chivalric and clerical virtues, see the Libre
del Orde de Cavalleria in its Catalan original and ancient French translation
in the Obres, Vol. 1, pp. 203-94, and the Libre de Clerecia (Liber clericorum),
including Latin text and French translation in Vol. 1 of the Obres,
pp. 295-386. Compare the Libre de contemplacio en Deu (The Great Book of
Contemplation), Vol. 2, cap. n o , Obres, Vol. 4, pp. 45-50 for the clergy,
and cap. 112, Obres, Vol. 4, pp. 57-63 for chevaliers of the wrong and
right kind in relation to crusades and missions.
154 RAMON LULL
overmuch weeping the sight of his eyes was blinded and knowl-
edge became clear to the eyes of his understanding. Wherefore
the Order did all that it could to honor the glory of God."
8. According to the manner aforesaid, the holy Apostolic
Father made ordinance concerning the ordinance of the glory
of God, and he appointed officers and ministers, and representa-
tives to see that this order was carried out; and he endeavored
daily with all his power to bring it to pass that benefit might
come from the ordinance afore-mentioned. It came to pass one
day that Ramon the Fool and the Jester of Valor brought ink
and paper before the pope, and said that they desired to send in
writing the afore-mentioned ordinance to the soldan and the
caliph of Bagdad, that they might see if they had subjects as
noble as those of the pope, or could make as fair an ordinance as
the pope had made to do honor to the glory of God in the
Heavens and cause Valor to return to the world.
9. It came to pass one day that the cardinal of Domine Deus
sent to a certain country to spy out the government of the bishop
and all the princes of that country. While this spy was in that
land, commandment came from the pope to the bishop that he
should provide yearly for fifty Tartars and ten friars whom the
pope sent to that diocese, that the Tartars might teach their
language to the friars and the friars teach theirs to the Tartars,
according as it was ordained in the court; and that the bishop
should found a monastery without the city where they should
live, and that endowment should be given to it in perpetuity.
Greatly was the bishop displeased at the commandment which
the pope had given him, bewailing the expense thereof; and he
spake ill of the pope and of the cardinals in the presence of the
prince of that country. But the prince rebuked the bishop
sternly, and said that never before had he heard of any pope or
any cardinals who had to such extent and to the best of their
power made ordinances whereby the glory of God was so
greatly honored, and that he himself, to honor the glory of God,
and to follow the good example which the pope and the cardi-
nals gave him, desired to have a share in the expenses which the
students would incur, and to bear the moiety of the cost of the
monastery. The king praised the ordinance of the pope and of
the cardinals greatly, and said that it seemed to him that the
time had come wherein God desired that his servants should do
him great honor, and that those that had strayed should be
converted.
10. So soon as the spy had heard the words which the prince
THE B L A N Q U E R N A : T H E LULLIAN IDEAL 155
and the bishop had uttered, he reported in writing to his lord
the cardinal those very words that he had heard, and he wrote
likewise that, according to the knowledge which he had gained,
the bishop had bought a castle for a nephew of his for twenty
thousand pounds. These letters were read in the consistory be-
fore the pope and the cardinals, and the cardinal to whom the
letter had come wrote down the name of the king, to the end
that, if an expedition were set on foot, or an occasion occurred
wherein the Church might show any favor to a king, it should
be shown to that king. The pope sent his messenger to the king,
and gave him thanks, and commanded that the castle should be
his, and that he should give ten thousand pounds for the build*
ing of the monastery; and he sent to the chapter of that diocese
commanding that, if the bishop desired not to hold his office and
contribute that which he commanded him to give, they should
elect another in his place, and that the bishop who had spoken
ill of him should have only the income of a canon. The Fool said
to the Beloved, "Pay me and give me my recompense for the
time that I have served thee." The Beloved increased in his
Lover his love for Him and the grief which he had suffered for
the sake of love, and he said to him: "Behold the pope and the
cardinals who honor the glory of their Lord.*' And the Jester sent
letters by Devotion to comfort Valor, who wept for the dishonor
which for long her enemies had done to her Lord.
11. Throughout all the world went forth the fame of the holy
life of the pope and the great good which he did, and daily was
valor increased and dishonor diminished. The good which came
from the ordinance which the pope had established illumined
the whole world, and brought devotion to them that heard the
ordinance recounted; and throughout all the world was sent in
writing an account of the process of the making thereof. It
chanced one day that the pope had sent to a Saracen king a
knight who was also a priest, and of the Order of Science and
Chivalry. This knight by force of arms vanquished ten knights,
one after the other, on different days, and after this he van-
quished all the wise men of that land by his arguments, and
proved to all that the holy Catholic faith was true. By mes-
sengers of such singular talent, and by many more, did the
ordinance afore-mentioned, which was established by the holy
Apostolic Father, illumine the world.
12. It came to pass that of the fifty Tartars who learned our
language and gained understanding of our faith, thirty were
converted, and the pope sent them with five friars to the court
I56 RAMON LULL
of the khan. These thirty, together with the five friars who had
learned the language of the Tartars, came before the great khan
and preached the faith of the Christians, and converted many
people in his court, and they turned the great khan from the
error wherein he lived and made him to doubt it; and after a
time, by process of this doubt, he came to everlasting life.
13. In a certain land there were studying ten Jews and ten
Saracens together with ten friars of religion; and when they had
learned our holy law and our letters, the half of them were con-
verted to our law, and they preached our law to other Jews, and
to Saracens our holy Christian faith, in the presence of many
that had not yet been converted, and thus did they daily and
continually. And because the papal court did all that was in its
power, and through the continuance of the disputation, and
because truth has power over falsehood, God gave grace to all
the Jews and Saracens of that country so that they were con-
verted and baptized, and preached to others the holy faith.
Wherefore the good and the honor which, through the Pope
Blanquerna, was done to the Christian faith, can in no wise be
recounted.15
15
This final paragraph is a wistful hope for the support Lull anticipated,
but never received, for his projects from papacy, temporal rulers, and
scholarly Christians. See Petry, op. cit.> p. 7, and notes 19-20, pp. 16-17.
THE BLANQUERNA: OF THE BOOK OF
THE LOVER AND THE BELOVED
THE TEXT
Prologue
Blanquerna was in prayer, and considered the manner where-
in to contemplate God and his virtues, and when he had ended
his prayer, he wrote down the manner wherein he had con-
templated God; and this he did daily, and brought new
arguments to his prayer, to the end that after many and divers
manners he should compose the Book of the Lover and the Beloved,
and that these manners should be brief, and that in a short space
of time the soul should learn to reflect in many ways. And, with
the blessing of God, Blanquerna began the book, the which
book he divided into as many verses as there are days in the
year; and each verse suffices for the contemplation of God in
one day according to The Art of the Book of Contemplation.
1. The Lover asked his Beloved if there remained in Him any-
thing still to be loved. And the Beloved answered that he had
still to love that by which his own love could be increased.
2. Long and perilous are the paths whereby the Lover seeks
his Beloved. They are peopled by considerations, sighs, and
tears. They are lit up by love.
3. Many lovers came together to love One only, their Be-
loved, who made them all to abound in love. And each one had
the Beloved for his possession, and his thoughts of Him were
very pleasant, making him to suffer pain which brought
delight.
4. The Lover wept and said: "How long shall it be till the
darkness of the world is past, that the paths to hell may be no
more? When comes the hour wherein water, that flows down-
ward, shall change its nature and mount upward? When shall
the innocent be more in number than the guilty?"
5. "Ah! When shall the Lover with joy lay down his life for
I58 RAMON LULL
the Beloved? And when shall the Beloved see the Lover grow
faint for love of Him?"
6. Said the Lover to the Beloved, "Thou that fillest the sun
with splendor, fill my heart with love." And the Beloved
answered: "Hadst thou not fullness of love, thine eyes had not
shed those tears, neither hadst thou come to this place to see
Him that loves thee."
7. The Beloved made trial of his Lover to see if his love for him
were perfect, and he asked him how the presence of the Beloved
differed from his absence. The Lover answered, "As knowledge
and remembrance differ from ignorance and oblivion."
8. The Beloved asked the Lover, "Hast thou remembrance of
aught wherewith I have rewarded thee, that thou wouldst love
me thus?" "Yea," replied the Lover, "for I distinguish not be-
tween the trials that thou sendest me and the joys."
9. "Say, O Lover!" asked the Beloved. "If I double thy trials,
wilt thou still be patient?" "Yea," answered the Lover, "so that
thou double also my love."
10. Said the Beloved to the Lover, "Knowest thou yet what
love meaneth?" The Lover answered, "If I knew not the mean-
ing of love, I should know the meaning of trial, grief, and
sorrow."
13. "Say, Fool of Love! Which can be the better seen, the
Beloved in the Lover, or the Lover in the Beloved?" The Lover
answered, and said: "By love can the Beloved be seen, and the
Lover by sighs and tears, by trials and by grief."
22. The Lover came to drink of the fountain which gives love
to him that has none, and his griefs redoubled. And the Beloved
came to drink of that fountain, that the love of one whose griefs
were doubled might be doubled also.
23. The Lover was sick and thought on the Beloved, who fed
him on his merits, quenched his thirst with love, made him to
rest in patience, clothed him with humility, and as medicine
gave him truth.
24. They asked the Lover where his Beloved was. And he
answered: "See Him for yourselves in a nobler house than all the
nobility of creation; but see him too in my love, my griefs, and
my tears."
29. The Lover and the Beloved met, and the Beloved said to
the Lover, "Thou needest not to speak to me. Sign to me only
with thine eyes, for they are words to my heart—that I may
give thee that which thou dost ask."
31. The Beloved filled his Lover with love, and grieved not for
THE BLANQUERNA: THE LOVER AND THE BELOVED 159
his tribulations, for they would but make him love the more
deeply; and the greater were the Lover's tribulations, the greater
was his delight and joy.
42. The keys of the doors of love are gilded with meditations,
sighs, and tears; the cord that binds them is woven of conscience,
contrition, devotion, and satisfaction; the door is kept by justice
and mercy.
46. The Lover longed for solitude,16 and went away to live
alone, that he might have the companionship of his Beloved, for
amid many people he was lonely.
47. The Lover was all alone, in the shade of a fair tree. Men
passed by that place, and asked him why he was alone. And the
Lover answered, "I am alone, now that I have seen you and
heard you; until now I was in the company of my Beloved."
54. As one that was a fool went the Lover through a city, sing-
ing of his Beloved; and men asked him if he had lost his wits.
"My Beloved," he answered, "has taken my will and I myself
have yielded up to him my understanding; so that there is
left in me naught but memory, wherewith I remember my
Beloved."
57. They asked the Lover, "Wherein is all thy wealth?" He
answered, "In the poverty which I bear for my Beloved." "And
wherein thy repose?" "In the afflictions of love." "Who is thy
physician?" "The trust that I have in my Beloved." "And who
is thy master?" "The signs which in all creatures I see of my
Beloved."
61. They asked the Lover where his love first began. He
answered, "It began in the glories of my Beloved; and from that
beginning I was led to love my neighbor even as myself, and to
cease to love 17 deception and falsehood."
62. "Say, Fool of Love! If thy Beloved no longer cared for thee,
what wouldst thou do?" "I should love him still," he replied.
"Else must I die; seeing that to cease to love is death and love is
life."
65. They asked the Lover what he meant by happiness. "It is
sorrow," he replied, "borne for love."
68. Said the Lover to his Beloved: "Thou art all, and through
all, and in all, and with all. I would give thee all of myself that
I may have all of thee, and thou all of me." The Beloved
answered: "Thou canst not have me wholly unless thou art
16 Solitat, according to MS. "D" instead of soliditat in other versions. Cf.
Peers, Blanquerna, p. 418, note, and preface, p. 13.
17 Desamar; Peers, op. cit., p. 420, note.
l6o RAMON LULL
wholly mine." And the Lover said: "Let me be wholly thine
and be thou wholly mine." The Beloved answered: "What,
then, will thy son have, and thy brother and thy father?" The
Lover replied: "Thou, O my Beloved! art so great a whole,
that thou canst abound, and be wholly of each one who gives
himself wholly to thee."
70. The paths of love are both long and short. For love is
clear, bright, and pure, subtle yet simple, strong, diligent,
brilliant, and abounding both in fresh thoughts and in old
memories.
79. "Say, O Fool! When came love first to thee?" "In that
time," he replied, "when my heart was enriched and filled with
thoughts and desires, sighs and griefs, and my eyes abounded in
weeping and in tears." "And what did love bring thee?" "The
wondrous ways of my Beloved, his honors and his exceeding
worth." 18 "How came these things?" "Through memory and
understanding." "Wherewith didst thou receive them?" "With
charity and hope." "Wherewith dost thou guard them?" "With
justice, prudence, fortitude, and temperance."
80. The Beloved sang, and said: "Little knows the Lover of
love if he be ashamed to praise his Beloved, or if he fear to do
him honor in those places wherein he is most grievously dis-
honored; and little knows he of love who is impatient of tribula-
tions; and he who loses trust in his Beloved makes no agreement
between love and hope."
97. They asked the Lover, "Whence art thou?" He answered,
"From love." "To whom dost thou belong?" "I belong to love."
"Who gave thee birth?" "Love." "Where wast thou born?" "In
love." "Who brought thee up?" "Love." "How dost thou live?"
"By love." "What is thy name?" "Love." "Whence comest
thou?" "From love." "Whither goest thou?" "To love."
"Where dwellest thou?" "In love." "Hast thou aught but love?"
"Yea," he answered, "I have faults; and I have sins against my
Beloved." "Is there pardon in thy Beloved?" "Yea," answered
the Lover, "in my Beloved there is mercy and justice, and there-
fore am I lodged between fear and hope."
142. The Lover was glad, and rejoiced in the greatness of his
Beloved. But afterward the Lover was sad because of overmuch
thought and reflection. And he knew not which he felt the more
deeply—whether the joys or the sorrows.
143. The Lover was sent by his Beloved as a messenger to
18
Valors; Peers, op. cit., p. 423, and note, p. 175.
Christian princes and to unbelievers, to teach them an Art and
Elements,19 whereby to know and love the Beloved.
I68. Imprisoned was the Lover in the prison of love. Thoughts,
desires, and memories held and enchained him lest he should
flee to his Beloved. Griefs tormented him; patience and hope
consoled him. And the Lover would have died, but the Beloved
revealed to him his presence and the Lover revived.
173. Said the Lover, "O ye that love, if ye will have fire, come
light your lanterns at my heart; if water, come to my eyes,
whence flow the tears in streams; if thoughts of love, come
gather them from my meditations."
179. "Say, O Fool! Which of these knows the more of love—
he that has joys thereof or he that has trials and griefs?" He
answered: "There can be no knowledge of love without both the
one and the other."
204. Sins and merits were striving among themselves in the
conscience and the will of the Lover. Justice and remembrance
increased his remorse, but mercy and hope increased the
assurance of pardon in the will of the Beloved; where-
fore in the penitence of the Lover merits conquered sins and
wrongs.
218. The Lover met his Beloved, and saw him to be very
noble and powerful and worthy of all honor. And he cried,
"How strange a thing it is that so few among men know and
love and honor thee as thou deservest!" And the Beloved
answered him and said: "Greatly has man grieved me; for I
created him to know me, love me, and honor me, and yet, of
every thousand, but a hundred fear and love me; and ninety of
these hundred fear me lest I should condemn them to hell, and
ten love me that I may grant them glory; hardly is there one
who loves me for my goodness and nobility." When the Lover
heard these words, he wept bitterly for the dishonor paid to his
Beloved; and he said: "Ah, Beloved, how much hast thou given
to man and how greatly hast thou honored him! Why, then, has
man thus forgotten Thee?"
233. The marks of the love which the Lover has to his Beloved
are, in the beginning, tears; in the continuance, tribulations;
and, in the end, death. And with these marks does the Lover
preach before the lovers of his Beloved.
234. The Lover went into solitude; and his heart was
accompanied by thoughts, his eyes by tears, and his body by
w Two of Lull's own works; Peers, op. cit., p. 432.

11—L.M.M.
162 RAMON LULL
afflictions and fasts. But when the Lover returned to the com-
panionship of men, these things afore-mentioned forsook him,
and the Lover remained quite alone in the company of many
people.
235. Love is an ocean; its waves are troubled by the winds;
it has no port or shore. The Lover perished in this ocean, and
with him perished his torments, and the work of his fulfillment
began.
246. "Say, O Fool! What is solitude?" He answered, "It is
solace and companionship between Lover and Beloved."
"And what are solace and companionship?" "Solitude in
the heart of the Lover when he remembers naught save only his
Beloved."
258. Far above love is the Beloved; far beneath it is the
Lover; and love, which lies between these two, makes the
Beloved to descend to the Lover, and the Lover to rise toward
the Beloved. And this ascending and descending are the begin-
ning and the life of that love whereby the Lover suffers and the
Beloved is served.
281. "Preach, thou, O Fool, and speak concerning thy
Beloved; weep and fast." So the Lover renounced the world,
and went forth with love to seek his Beloved, and praised him
in those places wherein he was dishonored.
288. "Say, O Fool! Wherein is the beginning of wisdom?"
He answered, "In faith and devotion, which are a ladder where-
by understanding may rise to a comprehension of the secrets of
my Beloved." "And wherein have faith and devotion their be-
ginning?" He answered, "In my Beloved, who illumines faith
and kindles devotion."
292. "Say, O Fool! Hast thou seen one without his reason?"
He answered, "I have seen a bishop who had many cups on his
table, and many plates and knives of silver, and in his chamber
had many garments and a great bed, and in his coffers great
wealth—and at the gates of his palace but few poor."
316. "Thou hast placed me, O Beloved, between my evil and
thy good. On thy part may there be pity, mercy, patience,
humility, pardon, restoration, and help; on mine let there be
contrition, perseverance, and remembrance, with sighs and
weeping and tears for thy sacred Passion."
366. "Say, O Fool! What is this world?" He answered, "It is
the prison house of them that love and serve my Beloved."
"And who is he that imprisons them?" He answered: "Con-
science, love, fear, renunciation, and contrition, and the com-
panionship of willful men; and the labor that knows no reward,
wherein lies punishment."
Because Blanquerna had to compose the book of The Art of
Contemplation, therefore desired he to end the Book of the Lover
and the Beloved, the which is now ended, to the glory and praise
of our Lord God.
THE BLANQUERNA: THE ART OF
CONTEMPLATION^
THE TEXT
Chapter IV
Of Unity
Blanquerna turned his thoughts and considerations with his
love to the contemplation of the Unity of God, and he said these
words: "Sovereign Good! Alone is thy Goodness in infinite great-
ness and in eternity and in power, for there is none other good-
ness such as can be infinite, eternal, and of infinite power;
wherefore, O Sovereign Good, I adore thee alone in one God
who is Sovereign in all perfections. Thou art one only Good,
whence all other good descends and springs. Thy Good of Itself
alone sustains all good beside. Thy Good alone is the source of
my good, wherefore all my good gives and subjects itself to the
honor, praise and service of Thy Good alone."
2. "O loving Lord! Greatness that art without beginning and
end in thy Essence full of virtue and complete in all perfection,
thou dost accord with one God alone and not with many, be-
cause eternity that is without beginning or end in its abiding-
ness accords well with greatness which in essence and virtue has
neither beginning nor end, but is itself both beginning and end
in all its fullness. And were it not so, O Lord, it would follow
that justice and perfection were contrary things in eternity, if
eternity, which has neither beginning nor end in duration,
accorded also with greatness in essence, which has finite and
determined quantity. And since thou, my God, art One with thy
justice and perfection, thereby is it signified to my understand-
ing that thou art One God eternal and alone."
3. The memory of Blanquerna remembered the goodness,
greatness, eternity, wisdom, will, and power of God. By His
20
A variant Catalan text of the Art de contemplacio here imbedded in The
Blanquerna is that of Probst in the Beitrdge, Vol. XIII, pts. 2-3, pp. 58-104,
heretofore referred to.
164
THE BLANQUERNA: THE ART OF CONTEMPLATION 165
goodness he understood a power with more of goodness than
any other; by His greatness, a power that was greater; by
eternity, a power more abiding; by wisdom, a power more wise;
by will, a power more gracious than any other power soever.
Wherefore, when the understanding had comprehended Divine
power, the memory thought upon one power alone, above all
others Sovereign, and therefore the understanding compre-
hended that God was One and One only, for, were there many
gods, it were a thing impossible that the understanding could
comprehend a greater and nobler power than all beside.
4. Blanquerna considered the virtue that is in the plants and
in things which Nature orders to one end, and his understanding
comprehended that everything that is in nature has one virtue
which is lord over all other virtues that are in that body; and
therefore Nature in each elemental body has natural appetite
rather to one end than to another, since one end—that is, one
perfection—has below it all perfections beside. While Blan-
querna considered this, his memory bore his understanding to
the comprehension of the end for which all men are made and
created, and of how beasts, birds, plants, metals, elements,
heavens, stars have one end only, namely, to serve man; and
thereby is signified, according to the perfection of power, justice,
wisdom, and will, that all men are to honor and serve one God
alone; for were there many gods, each god, according to his
perfection and justice and power, knowledge and will, would
have made and created men and creatures for many ends. As
Blanquerna contemplated the Unity of God according to the
manner aforesaid, he felt himself to be uplifted exceedingly in
his memory and understanding and will.
5. To man is given will, whereby he wills to possess for him-
self alone his castle or his city or his kingdom, or his possessions
or his wife or his son, or his memory or his understanding or his
will, and so of other things. And when to his hurt he finds his
peer in these things, he is moved to passion thereby, which is
contrary to glory and dominion. When Blanquerna had remem-
bered all this, he remembered the glory and the dominion of
God, and comprehended that if there were many gods and lords
of the world, their glory and dominion could not be so great
as is that of one God alone. And since there must needs be
postulated of God the highest glory and dominion, there was
demonstrated therefore to the understanding of Blanquerna that
God is One and One only. And, that his understanding might
rise to greater heights of comprehension, his will was greatly
l66 RAMON LULL
exalted in fervor to the contemplation of his Beloved, the Spouse
of his Will. And he said these words:
6. "True is it, O Lord God, that there is no other God save
thyself alone. To thee alone I offer and present myself, that I
may serve thee. From thee alone I hope for pardon, for there is
none other liberality to give nor mercy to forgive, save thine
only. Humble am I indeed if I humble myself to thee. Lord am
I, if I am thine alone. Victory have I above mine enemies if I
can only suffer for thee. Wheresoever I may be, with all that I
am, I give myself to thee alone, and thine alone I am, a guilty
sinner. Of thee alone I beg forgiveness, in thee I trust, and for
thee I incur perils. Whatsoever may become of me, let it be all
to one end, to wit, thy praise, honor, and glory. Thee alone do
I fear, from thee alone is my strength, for thee I weep, for thee I
burn with love, and none other Lord will I have, save thee
only." 21
Chapter VI22
Of Incarnation
Blanquerna remembered the holy Trinity of our Lord and
God, that his understanding might comprehend how through
the influence of the great goodness of eternity, power, wisdom,
and will of the glorious Trinity, God should perform a work in
the creature which should be of great benignity, abidingness,
power, wisdom, and charity; and for this cause his understand-
ing comprehended that according to the operation which is in
the Divine Persons, it was fitting that God should take our
human nature, in which and through which might be shown
forth his Divine virtues and his works which he has in his Divine
Persons; and that thus the wills of Blanquerna and all men be-
side might love God and his works. Wherefore Blanquerna
spake these words:
2. "Divine Virtue," said Blanquerna, "thou art infinite in
goodness, greatness, eternity, power, wisdom, love and all
perfection; wherefore if there were aught else infinite in great-
ness, eternity, and patience, thou couldst infinitely work therein
through greatness, eternity, action, and the like, since thou hast
the power to work, as that thing would have power to receive.
21 In the Catalan of the Probst text (cap. Ill, p. 74): "De Vos tot sol e temor,
de Vos sol e vigor, per Vosplor e m enamor, e no vull altre Senyor."
22 Cap. V , pp. 77-81 in the Probst text.
THE BLANQUERNA: THE ART CF CONTEMPLATION 167
But inasmuch as all virtue is finite, save thine, therefore neither
in eternity nor in infinite greatness is anything sufficient to re-
ceive the impress of thy work, without beginning of time or
quantity. Now to show forth all these things thy wisdom willed
to create a creature greater in goodness and virtue than all other
creatures and virtues created, and the Son of God willed to be
one Person with that creature, to show that thy goodness had
been able to give him greater virtue than all creatures else, even
as he could make him greater than the creature and than all
other creatures."
3. "Thy human nature, O Lord, has a glory greater than all
other glories created, and this because its perfection surpasses all
other perfection; and since thy justice, O Lord, has greater
goodness, power, wisdom, and love than any other, therefore it
was fain to give greater glory and perfection to thy humanity
than to any other nature created. Whence, since this is so, it is
most meet that all the angels, and all the souls of the saints, yea,
and all the bodies of the just when the resurrection is past,
should have glory in thy human nature, and thereby rise to have
greater glory in thy Divine Nature."
4. When Blanquerna had considered for a great space of
time the things set down above, he felt his memory, understand-
ing, and will to be greatly uplifted in contemplation. Yet even
so his heart gave no tears to his eyes that they might be bathed
in weeping, and therefore did Blanquerna prepare to uplift the
powers of his soul still higher that they might multiply devotion
the more in his heart, and fill his eyes with weeping and with
tears; for high contemplation goes ill save with weeping. Where-
fore Blanquerna caused his memory to descend, and to think
upon the vileness and the misery of this world, and the sins
that are therein, and the great wickedness committed by our
father Adam against his Creator, in disobeying him, and the
great mercy, liberality, humility, and patience of God, when it
pleased him to take human flesh and when he willed to give his
Body to poverty, scorn, torments, trials, and to vile and grievous
death; although he had no guilt nor sin such as are ours. While
the remembrance of Blanquerna called these things to mind, his
understanding was lifted up to comprehend and follow his re-
membrance, and together they contemplated the lofty and
Divine virtues, to wit, goodness, infinity, eternity, and the rest.
And therefore the will had so much devotion from the nobility
of the virtues and the Passion and Death of the Nature of Jesus
Christ that it gave to the heart sighs and griefs, and the heart
l68 RAMON LULL
gave to the eyes weeping and tears, and to the mouth confession
and praise of God.
5. For a great space of time did Blanquerna weep as he con-
templated the Incarnation of the Son of God after the manner
aforesaid; but as he wept the imagination strove to represent the
fashion wherein the Son of God conformed himself to human
nature; and since he might not imagine it, the understanding
had no longer knowledge and Blanquerna fell to doubting,
and his tears and sighs ceased, by reason of his doubt,
which destroyed his devotion and made it to vanish. When
Blanquerna felt to what State his thoughts had descended, he
lifted up once more his memory and understanding to the great-
ness of the goodness, power, wisdom, and perfection of God, and
in the greatness of these virtues his understanding compre-
hended that God may conform to himself human nature, though
the imagination know it not neither may imagine it. For greater
is God in goodness, power, wisdom, and will than is the imagina-
tion in its imagining; and in remembering and understanding
thus Blanquerna destroyed the doubt which he had had con-
cerning the Incarnation; and devotion and contrition returned
to his heart, and weeping and tears to his eyes, and his con-
templation was loftier and more fervent than at the beginning.
6. Long did Blanquerna contemplate the Incarnation of the
Son of God after the manner aforesaid. And when he felt that
his mind was wearied by one matter he took another, that
through the renewing of the matter his mind might regain
strength and virtue for contemplation. So Blanquerna remem-
bered how the holy Incarnation and Passion of the Son of God
are honored in the goodness, greatness, eternity, power, etc., of
God, and how in this world he has honored with his grace many
men who render him not the honor which they might. After
this he remembered how many men there are in this world who
are unbelievers and honor not the human nature of Jesus
Christ which God in himself has so greatly honored, but believe
not, and blaspheme that same nature, and hold that sacred
land wherein he took that nature, and wherein, to honor us and
restore us to the Sovereign dominion which we had lost, he suf-
fered Passion and Death. Then, after Blanquerna had fixed the
powers of his mind upon that matter, his devotions, sighs, tears,
and griefs were renewed within him, and his mind soared higher
and yet higher in contemplating the sacred Incarnation of the
Son of God. And therefore he said these words: "Oh Lord God,
who hast so highly honored and exalted our nature in thy Divine
virtues! When comes that time wherein thou wilt greatly honor
our remembrance, understanding, and will, in thy holy Incarna-
tion and Passion?"
7. So lofty was the contemplation of Blanquerna that the
powers of his soul discoursed with one another within his mind.
Memory said that great goodness performed a great work, and
great power worked great might. Understanding answered that
great mercy, humility, liberality > aiid love conformed lesser vir-
tues to greater. And Will said that above all creatures he must
needs love his Lord Jesus Christ. But at one thing he marveled
—to wit, how that Jesus Christ so greatly loved his people, and
willed to suffer for them so great Passion, and how God willed
so greatly to humble himself, and how in the world there are so
many men, unbelievers, idolaters, and ignorant of his honor.
Understanding answered aiid said that that thing was matter
for the will, how that it should have such devotion as to make a
man desire martyrdom that the Incarnation should be honored;
and that it Was matter for the memory, how that it should have
remembrance so lofty of the virtues of God that he might be
exalted in such necessary demonstrations as should show forth
to unbelievers the sacred Incarnation and Passion of the Lord
Jesus Christ.
8. By the Divine Light the spirit of Blanquerna was illumined
and inflamed, and he spake these words: "O Incarnation, O
greatest truth of all truths, uncreated and created! Wherefore
are greater in number the men that scorn thee, and know thee
not, neither believe thee, than they who honor and believe thee?
What wilt thou do? Wilt thou punish so great and mortal fail-
ings? O mercy wherein is so great benignity, love, patience, and
humility! Wilt thou pardon them?" So Blanquerna wept, and
between fear and hope he sorrowed and joyed, as he contem-
plated the sacred Incarnation of the Son of God.
VI
Meister Eckhart (c. 1260-1328)
INTRODUCTION
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
J OHN, LATER CALLED " M E I S T E R " OR " M A S T E R , " ECK-

hart was born at Hochheim near Gotha around 1260. He
became a Dominican at Erfurt and attended the Order's
studium at Cologne. He was made prior at Erfurt and then pro-
vincial vicar of Thuringia. His Treatise on Distinctions or Talks of
Instruction stemmed from this early period. Here the way of
Abgeschiedenheit, or true, spiritual disinterestedness and self-denial,
already appeared. Having become a master at Paris in 1302 or
1303, he rose in turn to be provincial-general of Saxony (in
1303), vicar-general of Bohemia (1307), and superior-general of
the order for all Germany (in 1312). A second Parisian period,
possibly from 1311-1314, saw the production of his Opus tri-
partitum. In his chief capacity as a friar-preacher he was at
Strassburg from 1313 or 1314 to 1320. Returning to teach at
Cologne from 1321 to his death, he became embroiled in charges
of heresy and during the last years of his life underwent investiga-
tions of his teachings. By the time of his death in 1327 or 1328,
he had defended himself against numerous aspersions on his
doctrinal soundness. In 1329, Pope John XXII condemned
twenty-eight propositions from his writings, pronouncing seven-
teen of these heretical and the eleven others "rash." "Rash" or
even "dangerous" he may have been on occasion. "Disloyal"
he never was to the Church for which he gave so much.
The texts of the Quaestiones Parisienses, the Opus tripartitum
prologi, and others are in the Leipzig edition of the Opera omnia,
Vols. 13, 2, etc. See, also, further works in the Latin sections of
Meister Eckhart: die deutschen und lateinischen Werke, edited by K.
170
INTRODUCTION 171
Weiss, J. Koch, a n d j . Quint, W. Kohlhammer, Stuttgart-Ber-
lin, 1936 —. A full bibliography of texts and secondary treat-
ments is provided in J. M. Clark's The Great German Mystics:
Eckhart ,Tauler andSuso, Basil Blackwell, Oxford, 1949. In addi-
tion to the pioneer collection of F. Pfeiffer, Meister Eckhart, 1857,
4th ed., Gottingen, 1924, the early work of F. Jostes, Meister
Eckhart und seine Junger: ungedruckte Texte zur Geschichte der deut-
schen Mystik, Freiburg (Schweiz), 1895, a n c ^ t n e useful anthology
of O. Karrer, Meister Eckhart . . . Textbuch aus den gedruckten und
ungedruckten Quellen . . .Jos. Miiller, Munich, 1926, there are
numerous editions of basic parts of Eckhart's writings. A useful
modernized version of selected sermons is H. Biittner, Schriften
und Predigten, Jena, 1923. M. de Gandillac, Maitre Eckhart:
traites et sermons, Aubier, Paris, 1942, is helpful. A basic transla-
tion from the text of Pfeiffer is that of C. de B. Evans, Meister
Eckhart, 2 vols., John M. Watkins, London, 1924, 1931. R. B.
Blakney, Meister Eckhart, a Modern Translation, Harper &
Brothers, New York and London, 1941, is most readable. A
convenient edition of Die Reden der Unterscheidung is by E. Died-
richs, Bonn, 1913. Compare that of J. Bernhart, Munich, 1922.
An excellent critical edition of Meister Eckharts Buch der Gottlichen
Trbstung und von dem Edlen Menschen {Liber "Benedictus") is that of
J. Quint, Walter De Gruyter & Co., Berlin, 1952. Valuable texts
are in A. Daniels, "Eine lateinische Rechtfertigungsschrift des
Meister Eckhart," Beitrdge, Vol. 23, pt. 5 (1923), and in G.
Thery, "Edition critique des pieces relatives au proces d'
Eckhart . . .," Archives d'histoire doctrinale et litteraire du moyen
age, Vol. 1 (1926), pp. 129-268. E. Gilson, History of Christian
Philosophy in the Middle Ages, 755 ff., appraises critical editions
and literature. Literature is also summarized in F. W. Wentz-
laff-Eggebert, Deutsche Mystik zwischen Mittelalter und JVeuzeit,
Berlin, 1944, pp. 301-307. The following discussion leans
heavily on Gilson's History and its preceding French editions as
on Gandillac's estimable "Tradition et developpement de la
mystique rhenane: Eckhart-Tauler-Seuse," in Melanges de science
religieuse, Vol. 3 (1946), pp. 37-82. See his Traites also. Brief key
texts with extended commentaries on the relation of being, in-
tellection, and unity are found in H. Hof, Scintilla animae, Lund,
1952, pp. 17 ff., 196-216 and in G. Delia Volpe, Eckhart 0 della
filosqfia mistica, Rome, 1952, pp. 101-107.
SYNOPSIS
Meister Eckhart, well acquainted with the Christian, as well
172 MEISTER ECKHART
as the pre-Christian, tradition, posits in the Paris lectures of
1313-1314 his most distinctive contentions. However much
there may seem to be a preoccupation later with the problem of
being, the priority ascribed to intellection as over against being
at the outset will persist. Far from knowing because he is, God
is because he knows. In so far as it is seen as an attribute of
creatures, being is not in God* God is wholly pure of it, as he
must be who is the cause of all being* The great "I am" is en-
tirely anterior to being. He is identifiable with intellection even
as the Johannine saying, "In the beginning was the Word,"
establishes intellection as the corner stone of being. Any varia-
tion in emphasis from the key identification of God with the act
of intellection will serve chiefly to lift the priority from intellect
to unity. God is One. Unity is his attribute. Unity thus being
the prerogative of the intellect means that pure intellect alone
can qualify as pure unity. Saying that God is wholly intellect is
therefore tantamount to saying that God is One. 1
Though the apex of Eckhart's ontology must be sought in the
Christian Trinity, the summit of his mystical philosophy is to be
found in that rootage of divine being which is its priority or
unity rather than its essence. The central peak is that immobile
unity, rest, and solitude which is "the very desert of the Deity."
This is the Unity, "pure of all being," to which God-Intellect as
discovered by the Scriptures actually leads. Deity thus under-
stood transcends the Trinity of Christian revelation.^
God may be said to possess being because of his oneness. Noth-
ing else has either of these in the fullest sense. Viewed thus,
being is not attributable to beings* Man, always in the process
of being produced and created, "never truly is." Since of itself
it is not, the creature to this extent is a pure nothingness. Crea-
tureliness in itself is nullity (nulleitas). Only in so far as it is a
manifestation of divine fecundity, and to the degree that it
shares in the nature of the intellect and of the intellectual, can it
be said to have being. Man gets back to the One through in-
tellectual knowledge much after the fashion of Plotinus.3
1
Gilson, History, pp. 438-46.
2 Ibid., p. 440; Gandillac, "La mystique rhenane," Melanges, Vol. 3,
pp. 47-48; Serrn.: Expedit vobis^ Pfeiffer, no* 76 (2), pp. 248-49; Blakney,
Meister Eckhart, pp. 200 ff.
3
Gilson, History, pp. 440-41. On the nullity of the creature, see, for ex-
ample, Predigt 4: Omne datum (Pfeiffer, no. 40, pp. 134-37), Qiiint, Meister
Eckharts Predigten, Deutsche Werke, Vol. I, pt. 1, pp. 70 ff.; Blakney, Meister
Eckhdrt, pp. 185 ff.
INTRODUCTION 173
Meister Eckhart of course regards the soul as a spiritual sub-
stance. The God-created faculties of memory, intellect, and will
are associated in it with a more hidden and distinctively divine
element still. This is identifiable on occasion as "the citadel of
the soul," "the little castle," or "the tabernacle." Again, it is
called "the spark," or the "Fiinklein" of the soul, the "Grund" or
"core" of it. This spark of the divine intellect is, according to
one of Eckhart's censured propositions (1329)—one that he re-
fuses to own in its most unqualified form—a something in the
soul that is uncreatable as well as uncreated, namely, its in-
tellect. To find union with God, one has merely to incarcerate
himself in this fortress of the soul. Here he is no longer dis-
tinguished from God as something apart. For a truly mystical
union to come about, man must detach himself completely
from all that is not God. This is the true entering into the taber-
nacle which, in its utter simplicity and unity, is like to that of
the divine intellect. In this entry into its cubiculum^ the soul
knows the purity and freedom that Deity alone possesses. This is
the soul's clinging "by its innermost depths to the Deity." It
can never be outside God. But it can be self-orienting and so
recede from him or it can research its own depths and thus find
union with him.4 This, of course, means finding God beyond
4
Predigt 2: Intravit Iesus in quoddam castellum (Pfeiffer, no. 8, pp. 42-47):
Quint, Deutsche Werke, Vol. I, pp. 24 ff., especially 39 ff.; cf. Blakney,
Meister Eckhart, pp. 2 1 0 - u ; Evans, Meister Eckhart, Vol. I, pp. 35 ff. Cf,
Pfeiffer, no. 21: Qui odit, p. 89; Evans, op. cit., Vol. I, p. 67; Karrer, op. cit,,
p. 90. Castellum when used in medieval texts of such passages as Luke 10:38
carried the literal sense of town or village. Eckhart, like many others of his
own and previous times, adapted it to serve figurative ends. The fortified
castle played an expanding role in feudal society from the twelfth century
onward. Religious imagery made increasing use of such Latin and ver-
nacular terms as castrum, castellum, burgelin, chateau, bourgade, castle, and
fortress. These were applied to the spiritualized consideration of the body,
heart, and soul, especially in connection with the Virgin Mary. Robert
Grosseteste saw in her a chateau, "a castle of love and grace." Al-Ghazzali,
by no means unknown to the West, stressed the necessity of defending "the
fortress of the heart" against the devilish wiles of the tempter, Shaitan.
That the "castle" theme was not foreign to Eckhart's contemporaries is
evidenced by such researches as those of J. Murray, Le chateau d'amour de
Robert Grosseteste, Paris, 1918, and of R. D. Cornelius, The Figurative Castle,
Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, 1930. See D. M. Donaldson, Studies in Muslim
Ethics, S.P.C.K., London, 1953, pp. 150 ff., on the "fortress of the heart"
as treated in the Ihyd 9al-Uliim al-Din {Revivification of the Religious Sciences,
pt. HI, pp. 23-27, 35-38). On the condemned propositions, see Gilson,
History, p. 757, etc. See also G. Thery, op, cit. For the Defense^ see Blakney,
op, cit., pp. 269, 289, 298-301, and Daniels, op. cit.
174 MEISTER EGKHART
creaturely nothingness. Only the noblest creature of all, the
soul itself, can lead directly to God. Self-abnegating love for God
means self-discovery. Abandonment of self and the release of
the soul toward the attainment of its pure essence is the highest
end of the soul. True poverty alone brings this about. Its
fullest practice removes man, once and for all, from the arena
in which he can know, do, and own anything by himself. Tradi-
tional exercises of preparatory character fall into desuetude as
the new birth of God is wrought in the soul, and as God and the
soul reveal the blessedness of a common unity. All things, the
sacraments and even God, can now be renounced. Man need
not yearn further for that which is already his.5
To stress such renunciatory unity with God is, at the same
time, to differentiate sharply between God and the Deity, be-
tween Gott and Gottheit. God differs from Godhead as much as
heaven differs from earth. "God acts. The Godhead does not."
The true "Nobleman," the spiritual "Aristocrat," is thus lured
beyond the usual province of being, oneness, or even God him-
self. It is in this sense that the Meister invites the "noble" soul
to exceed God and to go toward the abysm of pure Deity.6 This
is no mere conceit of theological language. It is, rather, the re-
course, as in the Pseudo-Dionysius, to a mystical way in which
affirmative thrusts at the divine mystery are surrendered for the
more rewarding disciplines of negative theology. Here the route of
detachment and self-abnegating poverty leads beyond the realm
of distinctions in divine persons, beyond nominal attributes
and hypostases, into an indefinable and unanalyzable, but still
fully committed, alignment with the One in ineffable union.7
5 Gilson, History, p. 442 and note 27, p. 757; Gandillac, "La mystique rhe-
nane," Melanges, Vol. 3, pp. 54-56; Serm.: Beati pauperes, Pfeiffer, no. 87,
pp. 280 ff.; Evans, op. cit., Vol. I, pp. 217 ff. Predigt 12: Qui audit me
(Pfeiffer, no. 96, pp. 309-12), Quint, Deutsche Werke, Vol. I, pt. 3,
pp. 192 ff.; Blakney, op. cit., pp. 203 ff. Serm.: Expedit vobis, Pfeiffer, no. 76,
pp. 238-43; Blakney, op. cit., pp. 197-262.
6 DS II, 1993. Gandillac, Melanges, Vol. 3, pp. 47-48; Serm.: Nolite timere
eos, Pfeiffer, no. 56, pp. 179 ff.; Evans, op. cit.,^ Vol. I, pp. 142 ff.; Blakney,
op. cit., pp. 224 ff., especially 225-26; Predigt 12: Qui audit me, Quint,
Deutsche Werke, Vol. I, pt. 3, pp. 192-93; Blakney, op. cit., pp. 203 ff.;
Quint, ed., Von dem Edeln Menschen, pp. 67-80 and notes; The Aristocrat, in
Blakney, op. cit., pp. 74-81. Cf. Expedit nobis, Pfeiffer, no. 76, pp. 241-42;
Blakney, op. cit., pp. 200-02.
7 Gandillac, in Melanges, Vol. 3, p. 48. See Nolite timere, Pfeiffer, no. 56,
p. 181, Evans, op. cit., p . 143, on God as working and active; and the God-
head as not working, but inactive. "Got wirket, diu gotheit wirket
niht "
INTRODUCTION 175
It has been quite properly insisted that with Eckhart, during
the birth of God in the soul, the Christian mystic surpasses
sheerly Platonist metaphysics and every analogy with "fakir"
resignation. The creature, fashioned out of God's love, responds
to that love. It voluntarily accepts the call to perfection. All that
self-sufficiency which, alone, spells pure nothingness for the
creature and separation from its Creator, is firmly abjured. The
first conditions of divine perfection are granted. "Simplicity
without means" and the poverty inculcated by the Beatitudes
are enthroned. The soul begins the total emptying of self.
Detachment from all extraneousness is made operative. A per-
fect identity between the human and the divine will is sought.8
The professional Religious, for example, finds his cloistered
vocation by no means a sufficient, or even valid, guarantee of
perfection. Amid the grossly discernible challenges of the outer
world, a truly spiritual soul may progress in full awareness of its
dangers, while an avowed perfectionist may as easily fall before
the subtle perils of the monastic calm. Gratification over good
works, the sensible joys of sacramental-liturgical experience,
and the ascetic's well-laid siege of the Kingdom may, together,
impose their peculiar handicaps. These can be the means of
defeating the soul's discovery of God through the higher way.
This transcends the way of overt search and all specialized
modes of spiritual operation. Eschewing every way, it attains its
goal by all ways and by every mode. All the works accomplished
outside the soul's royal fortress being dead, all those achieved
within it now become living.9
Eckhart does not disparage all works. He rejects those only
that are prompted by Pharisaic research for external virtue, and
the undisciplined solicitation for the comfort of "special bless-
ings." 10 So, likewise, he calls to prayer and the eucharistic life
that goes beyond merest participation to fullest communication.
Keeping this in mind, one may quite justifiably abandon the
most rapturous contemplation to give a little soup to a sick man;
one may encounter and accompany God in the street as well as
in the church.11
For fellow-concern and Christian love do play a large role in
Eckhart's mysticism, however empyrean it may sometimes
8 Gandillac, Melanges, Vol. 3, pp. 50-54.
* Ibid., p. 55; Talks of Instruction, nos. 6, 22; Beati pauperes, Blakney, op. cit.,
pp. 227-32.
10
Talks of Instruction, no. 19.
11 Ibid., no. 10.
I76 MEI3TER ECKHART
12
appear. The Meister, it is true, makes short shrift of self-adver-
tised humanitarianism. Creaturely convivialism, moreover, is
scarcely a desired end. Consideration of the divine Persons
themselves may seem lost in the unreserved surrender to fathom^
less Deity. Christians must certainly not be respecters of human
persons. Even the humanity of the God-made-man tends to
provide an obstacle, an obscuring image. Jesus, Eckhart re-
minds us, felt called upon to plead the expediency of his "going
away." 13
Is this, then, to becloud the role of God in history and of
Christ incarnated in time? How can the abysmic, denuded
Deity care for and sustain creatures? Is not Eckhart's refined
mysticism cold comfort at best for men in need of divine^hutnan
intimacy?
Meister Eckhart, in his preaching, at least, avoids discussion
of such theoretical issues. This penchant for empty speculation
is, he thinks, the "cross of great clerks," Abgeschiedenheit, union-
producing detachment and disinterested withdrawal from all
that is not God, is the one necessary emphasis for him.14 God
and the soul may know an intimacy surpassing all analysis.
Whatever others may hold deducible from Eckhart's premises,
he himself never actually sacrifices loving service of creatures.
Such love is always deduced from the love of God. However
transcendent, philosophically, Deity may be, nothing is closer
to the contemplative soul than its God. The selections of this
anthology evidence clearly the emphasis held needful by Eck-
hart, through precept and example, for balancing the con^
templative and the active life.15
12
On love, spiritual disinterest (Abgeschiedenheit), and true contemplative,
inwardness that socializes, see Talks of Instruction, no. 10, Blakney, op. cit.,
p. 14. See About Disinterest, in Blakney, op. cit., pp. 82 ff.; Et cum foetus,
Blakney, op. cit., p. 123, on God lying in wait for man with love; also In
hoc apparuit caritas Dei in nobis, Blakney, op. cit., pp. 125 ff.
3
1 Gandillac, Milanges, Vol. 3, pp. 56-58. Serm.: Expedit vobis, Pfeiffer, no.
76 (1), pp. 238-43; Blakney, op. cit., pp. 197-203. Gf. John 16:7.
14 Gandillac, Melanges, Vol. 3, pp. 57-60. Gf. About Disinterest, in Blakney,
op. cit., pp. 82 ff.
is Clark, German Mystics, pp. 20 ff.; Petry, "Social Responsibility," Church
History, Vol. 31, pt. 1, pp. 7-9 and notes,
Meister Eckhart (c. 1260-1328)
S E R M O N ON T H E E T E R N A L BIRTH"
THE TEXT
T H I S T O O IS M E I S T E R E C K H A R T W H O
ALWAYS T A U G H T T H E T R U T H
IN HIS, QUAE PATRIS MEI SUNT, OPORTET ME
ESSE. (Luke 2:49)
"I must be about my Father's business!" This text is quite

convenient to the discussion in which I shall now engage, deal-
ing with the eternal birth, which occurred at one point of time,
and which occurs every day in the innermost recess of the soul—
a recess to which there is no avenue of approach. To know this
birth at the core of the soul it is necessary above all that one
should be about his Father's business.
What are the attributes of the Father? More power is attrib-
uted to him than to the other Persons [of the Trinity]. Ac-
cordingly, no one can be sure of the experience of this birth, or
even approach it, except by the expenditure of a great deal of
energy, It is impossible without a complete withdrawal of the
senses from the [world of] things and great force is required to
repress all the agents of the soul and cause them to cease func-
tioning. It takes much strength to gather them all in, and
without that strength it cannot be done. So Christ said, "The
kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it
by force."
Now it may be asked about this birth: does it occur constantly
or intermittently—only when one applies himself with all his
might to forgetting the [world of] things while yet knowing that
he does so?
There are certain distinctions to be made. Man has an active
intellect, a passive intellect, and a potential intellect. The pres-
ence of the active intellect is indicated by [the mind] at work,
either on God or creature, to the divine honor and glory. It is
16
This sermon, which is no. 3, pp. 18-24 m Pfeiffer, is translated by R. B.
Blakney, Meister Eckhart, A Modern Translation, New York and London,
1941, pp. 109-17. Used by permission of Harper & Brothers.
12—L.M.M. 177
178 MEISTER EGKHART
characterized chiefly by its drive and energy and therefore is
called "active." But when the action at hand is undertaken by
God, the mind must remain passive. On the other hand, poten-
tial intellect is related to both. It signifies the mind's potentiali-
ties, what it has the capacity to do, what God can do. In one
case, the mind is at work on its own initiative; in the other, the
mind is passive, so that God may undertake the work at hand,
and then the mind must hold still and let God do it, but before
the mind can begin and God can finish, the mind must have a
prevision of what is to be done, a potential knowledge of what
may be. This is the meaning of "potential intellect," but it is
much neglected and therefore nothing comes of it. But when
the mind goes to work in real earnest, then God is enlisted and
he is both seen and felt. Still, the vision and experience of God
is too much of a burden to the soul while it is in the body and so
God withdraws intermittently, which is what [Christ] meant by
saying: "A little while, and ye shall not see me: and again, a
little while, and ye shall see me."
When our Lord took three disciples up the mountain and
showed them the transfiguration of his body, made possible by
his union with the Godhead—which shall come to us also in the
resurrection of the body—St. Peter at once, when he saw it,
wanted to stay there with it forever. In fact, to the extent that
one finds anything good, he never wants to part with it. What
one grows to know and comes to love and remember, his soul
follows after. Knowing this, our Lord hides himself from time to
time, for the soul is an elemental form of the body, so that what
once gains its attention holds it. If the soul were to know the
goodness of God, as it is and without interruption, it would
never turn away and therefore would never direct the body.
Thus it was with Paul. If he had remained a hundred years at
that point where he first knew God's goodness, even then he
would not have wanted to return to his body and would have
forgotten it altogether. Since, then, the divine goodness is alien
to this life and incompatible with it, faithful God veils it or re-
veals it when he will, or when he knows it will be most useful
and best for you that he do so. He is like a trustworthy physi-
cian. The withdrawal does not depend on you but upon him
whose act it is. He reveals himself or not as he thinks best for
you. It is up to him to show himself to you or not, according as
he knows you are ready for him, for God is not a destroyer of
nature but rather one who fulfills it, and he does this more and
more as you are prepared.
SERMON ON THE ETERNAL BIRTH 179
You may, however, say: Alas, good man, if, to be prepared
for God, one needs a heart freed from ideas and activities which
are natural to the agents of the soul, how about those deeds of
love which are wholly external, such as teaching and comforting
those who are in need? Are these to be denied? Are we to forgo
the deeds that occupied the disciples of our Lord so incessantly,
the work that occupied St. Paul on behalf of the people, so
much that he was like a father to them? Shall we be denied the
[divine] goodness because we do virtuous deeds?
Let us see how this question is to be answered. The one
[contemplation] is good. Thejother [deeds of virtue] is necessary.
Mary was praised for having chosen the better part but
Martha's life was useful, for she waited on Christ and his dis-
ciples.17 St. Thomas [Aquinas] says that the active life is better
than the contemplative, for in it one pours out the love he has
received in contemplation.18 Yet it is all one; for what we plant
in the soil of contemplation we shall reap in the harvest of action
and thus the purpose of contemplation is achieved. There is a
transition from one to the other, but it is all a single process with
one end in view—that God is—after which it returns to what it
was before. If I go from one end of this house to the other, it is
true, I shall be moving and yet it will be all one motion. In all
he does, man has only his one vision of God. One is based on
the other and fulfills it. In the unity [one beholds] in contem-
plation, God foreshadows [variety of] the harvest of action. In
contemplation, you serve only yourself. In good works, you
serve many people.
The whole life of Christ instructs us in this matter, and the
lives of his saints as well, all of whom he sent out into the world
to teach the many the one truth. St. Paul said to Timothy,
"Beloved, preach the word!" Did he mean the audible word
that beats the air? Certainly not! He referred to the inborn,
secret word that lies hidden in the soul. It was this that he
preached, so that it might instruct the faculties of people and
nourish them, and so that the behavior of men might proclaim
it and so that one might be fully prepared to serve the need of
his neighbor. It should be in the thoughts, the mind, and the
will. It should shine through your deeds. As Christ said, "Let
!7 Cf. the sermon in this anthology, Mary and Martha', also Fragment, 14.
is Summa TheoL, 2a, 2ae, Q. 182, art. 1, Q,. 188, art. 6; Butler, Western Mys-
ticism, p. 209. Consult I. Mennessier, "Vie contemplative et vie active
comparees," La vie spirituelle, Vol. 47 (1936), Supplement, pp. [129]-
[]
l80 MEISTER ECKHART
your light so shine before men!" He was thinking of people who
care only for the contemplative life and not for the practice of
virtue, who say that they have no need for this, for they have
got beyond it. Christ did not include such people when he said,
"Some seed fell in good ground, and brought forth fruit an
hundredfold." But he did refer to them when he spoke of
"the tree that does not bear fruit and which shall be hewn
down."
Now some of you may say: "But, sir, what about the silence
of which you have said so much?" Plenty of ideas intrude into
that. Each deed follows the pattern of its own idea, whether
spiritual or external, whether it be teaching, or giving comfort,
or what not. Where, then, is the stillness? If the mind goes on
thinking and imagining, and the will keeps on functioning, and
the memory: does not this all involve ideation? Let us see.
We have already mentioned the passive and active intellects.
The active intellect abstracts ideas from external things and
strips them of all that is material or accidental and passes them
on to the passive intellect, thus begetting their spiritual counter-
parts there. So the passive intellect is made pregnant by the
active and it knows and cherishes these things. Nevertheless, it
cannot continue to know them without the active intellect's
continuing, renewing enlightenment. But notice this: all the
active intellect does for the natural man, God does and much
more too for the solitary person. He removes the active intellect
and puts himself in its place and takes over its complete
function.
Now, if a person is quite unoccupied, and his mind is stilled,
God undertakes its work, and becomes controller of [the
mind's] agents and is himself begotten in the passive intellect.
Let us see how this is. The active intellect cannot pass on what it
has not received, nor can it entertain two ideas at once. It must
take first one and then the other. Even if many forms and colors
are shown up by light and air at the same time, you can perceive
them only one after the other. It is the same with the active in-
tellect when it acts—but when God acts in lieu of it, he begets
many ideas or images at one point. When, therefore, God moves
you to a good deed, your [soul's] agents organize at once for
good and your heart is set on goodness. All your resources for
good take shape and gather at the same instant to the same
point. This shows clearly and beyond doubt that it is not your
own mind that is working, because it has neither the authority
nor the resources required for that. Rather, it is the work which
SERMON ON THE ETERNAL BIRTH l8l
is begotten of Him who comprehends all ideas within himself
simultaneously. St. Paul says: "I can do all things through Him
that strengtheneth me and in him; I am not divided." Thus you
may know that the ideas back of good deeds are not your own
but are from the Superintendent of nature, from whom both the
deed and the idea proceed. Do not claim as your own what is
his and not yours. It is given you for a little while, but it was
born of God, beyond time, in the eternity that is above all ideas
or images.
You may, however, ask: "What is to become of my mind,
once it has been robbed of its natural function and has neither
ideas nor anything else to work on? It must always consist of
something and the soul's agents are bound to connect with some-
thing on which they will go to work, whether the memory, the
reason, or the will."
Here is the answer. The object and existence of the mind are
essential and not contingent. The mind has a pure, unadul-
terated being of its own. When it comes across truth or essence,
at once it is attracted and settles down to utter its oracle—for it
now has a point of reference. If, however, the intellect does not
discover any essential truth or touch some bedrock, so that it can
say, "This is this and therefore not something else"; if it has
to continue searching and expecting, arrested or attracted by
nothing, it can only work on until the end, when it passes out,
still searching and still expecting.
Sometimes a year or more is spent in working over a point
about nature to discover what it is, and then an equal period has
to be spent whittling off what it is not. Having no reference
point, the mind can make no statement all this time, for it has
no real knowledge of the core of truth. That is why the mind
can never rest during this lifetime. For let God reveal himself
here ever so much, it is nothing to what he really is. There is
Truth at the core of the soul but it is covered up and hidden
from the mind, and as long as that is so, there is nothing the
mind can do to come to rest, as it might if it had an unchanging
point of reference.
The mind never rests but must go on expecting and preparing
for what is yet to be known and what is still concealed. Mean-
while, man cannot know what God is, even though he be ever
so well aware of what God is not; and an intelligent person will
reject that. As long as it has no reference point, the mind can
only wait as matter waits for form. And matter can never find
rest except in form; so, too, the mind can never rest except in the
l82 MEISTER EGKHART
essential truth which is locked up in it—the truth about every-
thing. Essence alone satisfies and God keeps on withdrawing,
farther and farther away, to arouse the mind's zeal and lure it
on to follow and finally grasp the true good that has no cause.
Thus, contented with nothing, the mind clamors for the highest
good of all.
Now you may say: "But, sir, you have often told us that the
agents should all be still and yet here you have everything set-
ting up a clamor and covetousness in the mind where quiet
should be: there is a great hubbub and outcry for what the mind
has not. Whether it be desire, or purpose, or praise, or thanks,
or whatever is imagined or engendered in the soul, it cannot be
the pure peace or complete quiet, of which you have spoken.
Rather, the mind is despoiled of its peace."
This requires an answer. When you get rid of selfishness, to-
gether with things and what pertains to them, and have trans-
ferred all to God, and united with him, and abandoned all for
him in complete trust and love, then whatever your lot, what-
ever touches you, for better or worse, sour or sweet, none of it is
yours but it is all God's, to whom you have left it.
Tell me: Whose is the Word that is spoken? Is it his who
speaks or his who hears it? Even though it come to him who
hears it, it still is his who speaks or conceives it. Take an illus-
tration. The sun radiates its light into the air and the air re-
ceives it and transmits it to the earth, and, receiving it, we can
distinguish one color from another. Now, although light seems
to be everywhere in the air, it is really in the sun. The rays are
really emitted by the sun and come from it—not from the air.
They are only received by the air and passed on to anything
that can be lighted up.
It is like this with the soul. God begets his Son or the Word in
the soul and, receiving it, the soul passes it on in many forms,
through its agents, now as desire, now in good intentions, now
in loving deeds, now in gratitude or whatever concerns it.
These are all his and not yours at all. Credit God with all he
does and take none for yourself, as it is written: "The Holy
Spirit maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot
be uttered." It is he that prays in us and not we ourselves. St.
Paul says that "no man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the
Holy Ghost."
Above all, claim nothing for yourself. Relax and let God
operate you and do what he will with you. The deed is his; the
word is his; this birth is his; and all you are is his, for you have
surrendered self to him, with all your soul's agents and their
functions and even your personal nature. Then at once, God
comes into your being and faculties, for you are like a desert,
despoiled of all that was peculiarly your own. The Scripture
speaks of "the voice of one crying in the wilderness." Let this
voice cry in you at will. Be like a desert as far as self and the
things of this world are concerned.19
Perhaps, however, you object: "What should one do to be as
empty as a desert as far as self and things go? Should one just
wait and do nothing? Or should he sometimes pray, read, or do
such virtuous things as listening to a sermon or studying the
Bible—of course, not taking these things as if from outside him-
self, but inwardly, as from God? And if one does not do these
things, isn't he missing something?"
This is the answer. External acts of virtue were instituted and
ordained so that the outer man might be directed to God and
set apart for spiritual life and all good things, and not diverted
from them by incompatible pursuits. They were instituted to
restrain man from things impertinent to his high calling, so that
when God wants to use him, he will be found ready, not needing
to be brought back from things coarse and irrelevant. The more
pleasure one takes in externalities the harder it is to turn
away from them. The stronger the love the greater the pain of
parting.
See! Praying, reading, singing, watching, fasting, and doing
penance—all these virtuous practices were contrived to catch us
and keep us away from strange, ungodly things. Thus, if one
feels that the spirit of God is not at work in him, that he has
departed inwardly from God, he will all the more feel the need
to do virtuous deeds—especially those he finds most pertinent
or useful—not for his own personal ends but rather to honor the
truth—he will not wish to be drawn or led away by obvious
things. Rather, he will want to cleave to God, so that God will
find him quickly and not have to look far afield for him when,
once more, he wants to act through him.
But when a person has a true spiritual experience, he may
boldly drop external disciplines, even those to which he is bound
by vows, from which even a bishop may not release him. No
man may release another from vows he has made to God—for
such vows are contracts between man and God. And also, if a
19 Expedit vobisy Blakney, op. cit.9 pp. 200-02; Qui audit, Blakney, op. cit.>
pp. 203 ff.
184 MEISTER ECKHART
person who has vowed many things, such as prayer, fasting* or
pilgrimages, should enter an Order, he is then free from the vow,
for once in the Order, his bond is to all virtue and to God
himself.
I want to emphasize that. However much a person may have
vowed himself to many thingSj when he enters upon a true
spiritual experience he is released from them all. As long as that
experience lasts, whether a week, or a month, or a year, none
of this time will be lost to the monk or nun, for God, whose
prisoners they are, will account for it all. When he returns to his
usual nature, however, let him fulfill the vows appropriate to
each passing moment as it comes, but let him not think for a
moment of making up for the times he seemed to neglect,
for God will make up for whatever time he caused you to
be idle. Nor should you think it could be made up by any
number of creature-deeds, for the least deed of God is more
than all human deeds together. This is said for learned and
enlightened people who have been illumined by God and the
Scriptures.
But what shall be said of the simple fellow who neither knows
nor understands [the meaning of] bodily disciplines, when he
has vowed or promised something such as a prayer or anything
else? This I say for him: If he finds that his vow hinders him and
that if he were loosed from it he could draw nearer to God, let
him boldly quit the vow; for any act that brings one nearer to
God is best. That is what Paul meant when he said: "When that
which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be doile
away."
Vows taken at the hands of a priest are very different. They
are as binding as those vowed directly to God. To take a vow
with the good intention of binding oneself to God is the best one
can do at any time. If, however, a man knows a better way, one
that experience has taught him ig better, then the first way is at
once superseded.
This is easy to prove, for we must look to the fruits, the in*
ward truth, rather than to outward works. As St. Paul says,
"The letter killeth (that is, all formal practices), but the spirit
maketh alive (that is, inner experience of the truth)." Realize
this clearly, that whatever leads you closest to this inner truth
you are to follow in all you do. Let your spirit be uplifted and
not downcast, burning and yet pure, silent and quiet. You need
not say to God what you need or desire^ for he knows it all be-
forehand. Christ said to his disciples, "When ye pray* use not
vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall
be heard for their much speaking."
That we may follow this peace and inward silence, that the
eternal Word may be spoken in us and understood, and that we
may be one with Him, may the Father help us, and the Word,
and the Spirit of both. Amen.
A N O T H E R S E R M O N ON T H E ETERNAL
B I R T H 20
THE TEXT
ET CUM FACTUS ESSET JESUS ANNORUM DUODE-

CIM, ETC. (Luke 2:42)
We read in the Gospel that when our Lord was twelve years old
he went to the Temple at Jerusalem with Mary and Joseph, and
that, when they left, Jesus stayed behind in the Temple without
their knowledge. When they got home and missed him, they
looked for him among acquaintances and strangers and rela-
tives. They looked for him in the crowds and still they could not
find him. Furthermore, they had lost him among the [Temple]
crowds and had to go back to where they came from. When they
got back to their starting point, they found him.
Thus it is true that, if you are to experience this noble birth,
you must depart from all crowds and go back to the starting
point, the core [of the soul] out of which you came. The crowds
are the agents of the soul and their activities: memory, under-
standing, and will, in all their diversifications. You must leave
them all: sense perception, imagination, and all that you dis-
cover in self or intend to do. After that, you may experience this
birth—but otherwise not—believe me! He was not found among
friends, nor relatives, nor among acquaintances. No. He is lost
among these altogether.
Thence we have a question to ask: Is it possible for man to ex-
perience this birth through certain things which, although they
are divine, yet they come into the man through the senses from
without? I refer to certain ideas of God, such as, for example,
that God is good, wise, merciful, or whatever—ideas that are
creatures of the reason, and yet divine. Can a man have the ex-
perience [of the divine birth] by means of these? No! Truly no.
20 This sermon, which is no. 4 in Pfeiffer, pp. 24-30, is translated by Blak-
ney, Meister Eckhart, pp. 118-24. Used by permission of Harper &
Brothers. Gf. Evans, op. cit., Vol. I, pp. 20 ff.
186
ANOTHER SERMON ON THE ETERNAL BIRTH 187
Even though [these ideas] are all good and divine, still he gets
them all through his senses from without. If the divine birth is to
shine with reality and purity, it must come flooding up and out
of man from God within him, while all man's own efforts are
suspended and all the soul's agents are at God's disposal.
This work [birth], when it is perfect, will be due solely to
God's action while you have been passive. If you really forsake
your own knowledge and will, then surely and gladly God will
enter with his knowledge shining clearly. Where God achieves
self-consciousness, your own knowledge is of no use, nor has it
standing. Do not imagine that your own intelligence may rise
to it, so that you may know God. Indeed, when God divinely
enlightens you, no natural light is required to bring that about.
This [natural light] must in fact be completely extinguished be-
fore God will shine in with his light, bringing back with him all
that you have forsaken and a thousand times more, together
with a new form to contain it all.
We have a parable for this in the gospel. When our Lord had
held friendly conversation with the heathen woman at the well,
she left her jug and ran to the city to tell the people that the true
Messiah had come. The people, not believing her report, went
out to see for themselves. Then they said to her: "Now we be-
lieve, not because of thy saying: for we have seen him our-
selves." Thus it is true that you cannot know God by means of
any creature science nor by means of your own wisdom. If you
are to know God divinely, your own knowledge must become as
pure ignorance, in which you forget yourself and every other
creature.21
But perhaps you will say: "Alas, sir, what is the point of my
mind existing if it is to be quite empty and without function? Is
it best for me to screw up my courage to this unknown knowl-
edge which cannot really be anything at all? For if I know any-
thing in any way, I shall not be ignorant, nor would I be either
empty or innocent. Is it my place to be in darkness?"
Yes, truly. You could do no better than to go where it is
dark, that is, unconsciousness.
"But, sir, must everything go and is there no turning back?"
Certainly not. By rights, there is no return.
"Then what is the darkness? What do you mean by it? What
is its name?"
It has no name other than "potential sensitivity" and it
21
Cf. the Aristocrat, in Blakney, op. cit.9 p. 77; Serm.: Qui audit, Blakney, op.
cit., pp. 200-01.
l88 MEISTER EGKHART
neither lacks being nor does it want to be. It is that possible
[degree of] sensitivity through which you may be made perfect.
That is why there is no way back out of it. And yet, if you do re-
turi?, it will not be for the sake of truth but rather on account of
the world, the flesh, and the devil. If you persist in abandoning
it, you necessarily fall [a victim to spiritual] malady and you
may even persist so long that for you the fall will be eternal.
Thus there can be no turning back but only pressing on to the
attainment and achievement of this potentiality. There is no
rest [in the process] short of complete fulfillment of being. Just
as matter can never rest until it is made complete by form, which
represents its potential being, so there is no rest for the mind
until it has attained all that is possible to it.
On this point, a heathen master says: "Nature has nothing
swifter than the heavens, which outrun everything else in their
course." But surely the mind of man, in its course, outstrips
them all. Provided it retains its active powers and keeps itself
free from defilement and the disintegration of lesser and cruder
things, it can outstrip high heaven and never slow down until it
has reached the highest peak, and is fed and lodged by the
highest good, which is God.
Therefore, how profitable it is to pursue this potentiality
until, empty and innocent, a man is alone in that darkness of
unself-consciousness, tracking and tracing [every clue] and never
retracing his steps! Thus you may win that [something] which
is everything, and the more you make yourself like a desert, un-
conscious of every thing, the nearer you come to that estate.22
Of this desert, Hosea writes: "I will allure her, and bring her
into the wilderness, and speak to her heart." The genuine word
of eternity is spoken only in that eternity of the man who is him-
self a wilderness, alienated from self and all multiplicity. The
prophet longed for this desolated alienation from self, for he
said: "Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly
away, and be at rest." Where may one find peace and rest?
Really only where he rejects all creatures, being alienated from
them and desolate. So David said: "I would choose rather to sit
at the threshold of the house of my God than to dwell with great
honor and wealth in the tents of wickedness."
But you may say: "Alas, sir, does a man have to be alienated
from creatures and always desolate, inwardly as well as out-
wardly, the soul's agents together with their functions—must all
22 Serai.: Beatipauperes, Blakney, op. cit., pp. 227 ff.; also note 21.
ANOTHER SERMON ON THE ETERNAL BIRTH 189
be done away? That would put one in a hard position—if then
God should leave him without his support, and add to his
misery, taking away his light and neither speaking to him nor
acting in him, as you now seem to mean. If a person is to be in
such a state of pure nothingness, would it not be better for him
to be doing something to make the darkness and alienation sup-
portable? Should he not pray, or read, or hear a sermon, or do
something else that is good to help himself through it?"
No! You may be sure that perfect quiet and idleness is the
best you can do. For, see, you cannot turn from this condition
to do anything, without harming it. This is certain: You would
like in part to prepare yourself and in part to be prepared by
God, but it cannot be so, for however quickly you desire or
think of preparing, God gets there first. But suppose that the
preparation could be shared between you and God for the
[divine] work of ingress—which is impossible—then you should
know that God must act and pour in as soon as he finds that you
are ready. Do not imagine that God is like a carpenter who
works or not, just as he pleases, suiting his own convenience. It
is not so with God, for when he finds you ready he must act, and
pour into you, just as when the air is clear and pure the sun must
pour into it and may not hold back. Surely, it would be a very
great defect in God if he did not do a great work, and anoint you
with great good, once he found you empty and innocent.
The authorities, writing to the same point, assert that when
the matter of which a child is made is ready in the mother's
body, God at once pours in the living spirit which is the soul—
the body's form. Readiness and the giving of form occur simul-
taneously. When nature reaches its highest point, God gives
grace. When the [human] spirit is ready, God enters it without
hesitation or waiting. It is written in the Revelation that our
Lord told people: "I stand at the door, and knock and wait. If
any man let me in, I will sup with him." You need not look
either here or there. He is no farther away than the door of the
heart. He stands there, lingering, waiting for us to be ready and
open the door and let him in. You need not call to him as if he
were far away, for he waits more urgently than you for the door
to be opened. You are a thousand times more necessary to him
than he is to you. The opening [of the door] and his entry are
simultaneous.
Still you may ask: "How can that be? I do not sense his pres-
ence." But look! To sense his presence is not within your power,
but his. When it suits him, he shows himself; and he conceals
190 MEISTER EGKHART
himself when he wants to. This is what Christ meant when he
said to Nicodemus: "The wind [Spirit] bloweth where it list-
eth, and thou hearest the sound thereof but canst not tell
whence it cometh, and whither it goeth." There is an [apparent]
contradiction in what he says: "You hear and yet do not know."
When one hears, he knows. Christ meant: by hearing a man
takes in or absorbs [the Spirit of God]. It was as if he wanted to
say: You receive it without knowing it. But you should remem-
ber that God may not leave anything empty or void. That is not
God's nature. He could not bear it. Therefore, however much
it may seem that you do not sense his presence or that you are
quite innocent of it, this is not the case. For if there were any
void under heaven whatever, great or small, either the sky
would have to draw it up to itself or bend down to fill it. God,
the master of nature, will not tolerate any empty place. There-
fore be quiet and do not waver lest, turning away from God for
an hour, you never return to him.
Still you may say: "Alas, sir, you assume that this birth is
going to happen and that the Son [of God] will be born in me.
But by what sign shall I know that it has happened?"
Yes! Certainly! There may well be three trustworthy signs,
but let me tell about one of them. I am often asked if it is pos-
sible, within time, that a person should not be hindered either
by multiplicity or by matter. Indeed, it is. When this birth
really happens, no creature in all the world will stand in your
way and, what is more, they will all point you to God and to
this birth. Take the analogy of the thunderbolt. When it strikes
to kill, whether it is a tree or an animal or a person, at the com-
ing of the blow, they all turn toward it and if a person's back
were turned, he would instantly turn to face it. All the thou-
sands of leaves of a tree at once turn the required sides to the
stroke. And so it is with all who experience this birth. They, to-
gether with all around them, earthy as you please, are quickly
turned toward it. Indeed, what was formerly a hindrance be-
comes now a help. Your face is turned so squarely toward it
that, whatever you see or hear, you only get this birth out of it.
Everything stands for God and you see only God in all the
world. It is just as when one looks straight at the sun for a while:
afterward, everything he looks at has the image of the sun in it.
If this is lacking, if you are not looking for God and expecting
him everywhere, and in everything, you lack the birth.
Still you might ask: "While in this state, should one do
penances? Isn't he missing something if he doesn't?"
ANOTHER SERMON ON THE ETERNAL BIRTH igi
The whole of a life of penitence is only one among a number
of things, such as fasting, watching, praying, kneeling, being
disciplined, wearing hair shirts, lying on hard surfaces, and so
on. These were all devised because of the constant opposition of
the body and flesh to the spirit. The body is too strong for the
spirit and so there is always a struggle between them—an eter-
nal conflict. The body is bold and brave here, for it is at home
and the world helps it. This earth is its fatherland and all its
kindred are on its side: food, drink, and comforts are all against
the spirit. Here the spirit is alien. Its race and kin are all in
heaven. It has many friends there. To assist the spirit in its dis-
tress, to weaken the flesh for its part in this struggle so that it
cannot conquer the spirit, penances are put upon the flesh, like
a bridle, to curb it, so that the spirit may control it. This is done
to bring it to subjection, but if you wish to make it a thousand
times more subject, put the bridle of love on it. With love you
may overcome it most quickly and load it most heavily.
That is why God lies in wait for us with nothing so much as
love. Love is like a fisherman's hook. Without the hook he could
never catch a fish, but once the hook is taken the fisherman is
sure of the fish. Even though the fish twists hither and yon, still
the fisherman is sure of him. And so, too, I speak of love: he
who is caught by it is held by the strongest of bonds and yet the
stress is pleasant. He who takes this sweet burden on himself gets
farther, and comes nearer to what he aims at, than he would by
means of any harsh ordinance ever devised by man. Moreover,
he can sweetly bear all that happens to him; all that God in-
flicts he can take cheerfully. Nothing makes you God's own, or
God yours, as much as this sweet bond. When one has found
this way, he looks for no other. To hang on this hook is to be so
[completely] captured that feet and hands, and mouth and
eyes, the heart, and all a man is and has, become God's own.
Therefore there is no better way to overcome the enemy, so
that he may never hurt you, than by means of love. Thus it is
written: "Love is as strong as death and harder than hell."
Death separates the soul from the body but love separates every-
thing from the soul. It cannot endure anything anywhere that is
not God or God's. Whatever he does who is caught in this net,
or turned in this direction, love does it, and love alone; and
whether the man does it or not, makes no difference.23
The most trivial deed or function in such a person is more
23 On God and his love, see The Book of Divine Comfort, in Blakney, op, cit.f
PP' 54-56> 60 ff.
192 MEISTER ECKHART
profitable and fruitful to himself and all men, and pleases God
better, than all other human practices put together, which,
though done without deadly sin, are characterized by a mini-
mum of love. His rest is more profitable than another's work.
Therefore wait only for this hook and you will be caught up
into blessing, and the more you are caught the more you will be
set free. That we all may be so caught and set free, may He help
us who is love itself. Amen.
A S E R M O N ON T H E C O N T E M P L A T I V E
AND T H E A C T I V E L I F E "
M A R Y AND MARTHA
THE TEXT
St. Luke relates in his Gospel that our Lord Jesus Christ en-
tered into a certain village where he was received by a woman
named Martha, and she had a sister called Mary who sat at the
feet of our Lord and listened to his words, but Martha moved
about, waiting upon our Lord.
Three things made Mary sit at Christ's feet. One was the
goodness of God possessing her soul. The second was deep, un-
speakable longing: she desired she knew not why and wanted
she knew not what. The third was sweet solace and joy in the
eternal words proceeding from the mouth of Christ.
With Martha too there were three things which made her
move about waiting upon our Lord. She was in her prime and
had good grounds for thinking that no one else could do the
work as well as she herself. Next, she was sensible enough to
arrange her outward work as considerately as possible. The
third thing was the great honor due to her dear guest.
Doctors declare that God is ready to satisfy the highest as-
pirations, rational and sensible, of every man. For God to give
us satisfaction rationally speaking and also sensibly are two
very different things to the friends of God. Sensible satisfaction
means that God grants us comfort, joy, contentment; and much
indulgence in these things is not good for the friends of God, for
their interior life. But rational satisfaction is of a spiritual nature.
As to rational satisfaction I hold that not by any inclination can
the summit of the soul be brought so low as to be drowned in
24 The translation is by G. de B. Evans, The Works of Meister Eckhart: Doctor
ecstaticus, Vol. II, pp. 90-98. Used by permission of John M. Watkins,
London, 1931, 1952. Cf. Pfeiffer, no. 9, pp. 47-53; Biittner, op. cit., Vol.
II, no. 4, pp. 98-108.
13—L.M.M. 193
194 MEISTER EGKHART
pleasures; rather it rebels vigorously against them. Man enjoys

rational satisfaction only when creature weal and woe are
powerless to affect the summit of the soul. By creature I mean
anything we see or are aware of under God.
Martha says, "Lord, tell her to help me." This was not said in
anger, it was affection that constrained her. It was said half in
jest and half in earnest. How so?—Well, she saw Mary possessed
with a longing for soul satisfaction. Martha knew Mary better
than Mary knew Martha, for she had lived long and well, and
life gives the best understanding. Life gauges light and delight
better than anything else under God that man can have in this
body and in some ways more surely than the eternal light can.
Eternal light makes known oneself and God, not oneself apart
from God. Where self is seen by itself, it is easier to tell what is
like or unlike. Paul makes this plain and so do the heathen
philosophers. Paul saw in his ecstasy God and himself, in spirit,
in God, but he was not in him properly, with an intimate knowl-
edge of the virtues, because he had not practiced them. By
practicing the virtues the masters gained profound discernment,
a truer knowledge of the several virtues than had Paul or any
saint in his first rapture.
So with Martha. Hence her words, "Lord, tell her to help
me." As though to say: "My sister thinks she can do as she
likes, sitting comfortably at thy feet. Let her see if it be so. Bid
her get up and go." The latter part was kindly meant, albeit she
spoke her mind. Mary was filled with longing: longing she
knew not why and wanting she knew not what. We have her
suspected, dear Mary, of sitting there for her own pleasure
rather than for spiritual profit. "Bid her rise," Martha says,
fearful lest by dallying with pleasure a stop should be put to all
progress. Christ answered and said, "Martha, Martha, thou art
careful, art troubled, with many things: one thing is needful.
Mary has chosen the best part, which shall never be taken away
from her." This Christ said to Martha, not rebuking but an-
swering her, soothing her, telling her Mary would become as she
desired. Why did Christ say, "Martha, Martha," naming her
twice? Isidorus says there is no doubt that prior to the time
when God was man he never called anyone by name lest any
should be lost whom he did not name and about whom it was
doubtful. Christ's calling I take to mean his eternal knowing:
changeless, eternal subsistence, before the creation of creatures,
in the Book of Light: Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Of those
named therein and whose names Christ uttered in words, of
CONTEMPLATION AND ACTION I95
those not one was ever lost. Moses, for instance, who was told by
God himself, "I have known thee by name," and Nathanael
unto whom Christ said, "When thou wast lying under the leaves
of the fig tree I knew thee." The fig tree being God, in whom his
name was inscribed eternally. Thus it may be shown that there
never was nor ever shall be lost a single soul whom Christ has
ever named by human mouth in the eternal Word.
Why did he name Martha twice? He meant that every good
thing, temporal and eternal, destined for creature, that all this
was Martha's. The first "Martha" stood for perfection in tem-
poral works; the second one for her eternal weal: in all things
pertaining to this her lacking nothing. He says, "Thou art care-
ful (troubled with many things): thou art among things, but
they have no hold in thee." The careful are those who let noth-
ing hinder them in their work. Those who let nothing hinder
them in their work are the ones who follow the lead of the eter-
nal light. These are with things not in things. It is almost as
though they were up yonder, on the circle (confines) of eternity
and they are enjoying no less. Almost, I say, because creatures
are all of them means. Means are twofold. One, without which
I cannot get into God, is work, vocation, or calling in time,
which interferes not one whit with eternal salvation. (The other
means is selflessness.) Work is the outward practice of good
works, but calling implies the uses of discrimination. We are
brought forth into time in order that our sensible worldly oc-
cupations may lead us nearer and make us liker to God. St.
Paul had this in mind when he spoke of "redeeming the time"
and of "the days being evil." "Redeeming the time," that means
the continual ascent of the mind to God, not in imagination but
a real intellectual adventure. And, "the days are evil" may be
explained as follows. Day presupposes night. If there were no
night we should not speak of day. It would be all one light. This
was Paul's idea: one life under the sun is all too short, subject
as it is to spells of darkness which cloud and obscure the soul's
eternal home. Hence, too, Christ's exhortation, "Work while ye
have the light." He who works in the light rises straight up to
God without let or hindrance: his light is his calling, and his
calling is his light. This was the case with Martha. Accordingly
he says to her, "One thing is needful, not two." What time we
are encompassed by the eternal light thou and I are one: we
two are one. Standing over all things and under God on the
circle of eternity the fiery spirit is two, for it sees God not with-
out means. Its knowing and being, or knowing and object of
I96 MEISTER ECKHART
knowledge, will never be one till it sees God (with noth-
ing between). Then spirit is seen to be God, free from all
forms.
Now mark what the circle of eternity means. The soul has
three ways into God. One is, to seek God in all creatures, ar-
dently longing and busily working in various ways. King David
says, "In all things have I sought rest." The second way is a
wayless way, free and yet bound, raised, rapt away well-nigh
past self and all things, will-less, formless; there seems nothing
left but sheer being. Christ makes reference to this when he says,
"Blessed art thou, Peter: flesh and blood have not enlightened
thee, but being wrought up into thy higher mind, in Him thou
dost call me God; my Heavenly Father hath revealed it to thee."
St. Peter saw God, but not face to face. True, he was caught up
in the Heavenly Father's power past all created knowledge to
the circle of eternity. Grasped by the Heavenly Father—a dear
embrace—in his tempestuous might he was carried up un-
knowing in an aspiration transcending all the things of sense.
Then Peter heard within him sweet tones coming down from
above, not conveyed by any mortal means, in simple truth
(direct perception of) God's and man's at-one-ment in the Per-
son of the Heavenly Father-Son. I make bold to say, if Peter had
seen God unveiled, in his own nature, as he did later on, like
Paul when he was caught up into the third heaven, the most
exalted angel's voice would have seemed harsh to him. He said
many loving words which Jesus did not need who sees into the
heart and ground of the soul where man stands face to face with
God in the freedom of actual presence. St. Paul alludes to this
when he tells how he was caught up into God and heard in-
effable things not lawful for man to utter. From this I gather
that St. Peter was standing on the circle of eternity and was not
in unity beholding God in his his-ness.
The third way is called way, but is really-home: seeing God
face to face in his his-ness. Christ says, "I am the way, the truth,
and the life": Christ Person, Christ Father, Christ Spirit, three
—way, truth, and life—the one Christ, all in him. Out of this
way creatures keep helplessly circling round. Into God, in this
way, led by the light of his Word and compassed about by the
love of them both, that beggars description. Hear and marvel!
To be out and in, be conceived and conceive, see and be seen,
save and be saved—that is the end: the spirit at rest in the one
eternal nature.
But to return to our argument. Martha, and with her all the
CONTEMPLATION AND ACTION 197
friends of God, are careful or troubled—not, in trouble—a state
in which temporal work is as good as any communing with God,
for it joins us as straitly to God as the best that can happen to us
barring the vision of God in his naked nature. "Thou art
troubled," he says, meaning to say she was troubled, cumbered,
with her lower powers, for she was not given to indulge in spir-
itual sweetness: she was not pleasure-seeking.
We need three things in our work: to be orderly, honest, and
wise. To do the next thing, that I call orderly. By honest, I
mean doing one's best at the moment. To feel true and lively
pleasure in good works, that I call wise. Where these three
things are found they are just as good and unite us as closely to
God as all Mary Magdalene's idle longings.
Christ says, "Thou art troubled about many things, not about
one." When, perfectly simple and wholly unoccupied, she is
transported to the circle of eternity, then the soul will be
troubled if anything should intervene to spoil her joy in being
up there. She will be anxious and distressed. But Martha, being
firmly established in virtue, open-minded, not hindered by
things, wanted her sister to be like her, for she realized her in-
security. She had the highest motives, wishing her all that per-
tains to eternal felicity. Christ says, "One thing is needful."
What is this one? It is God. That is the need of all creatures. If
God took back what is his, all creatures would perish. Were God
to withdraw from the soul at the point where her spirit is
merged in the eternal Persons, then Christ would be left merely
creature. The one, truly, is needful. Martha feared that her sis-
ter would stay dallying with pleasure and sweetness, so Christ
says in effect: All is well, Martha, she has chosen the best part;
this will pass. The best that can befall creature lies in store for
her: she shall be blessed like thee.
Here let us examine the doctrine of virtue. Good life is in
three ways a matter of will, and primarily of resigning the will
to God, for it is imperative to live up to one's lights, be it in
taking or leaving. There are three kinds of will. The first is
sensible will, the second is rational will, the third is eternal will.
The sensible will needs guidance, proper teaching. The second
is rational will: following in the footsteps of Christ Jesus and the
saints, words, deeds, and way of life all directed toward the
highest end. Given this much, God will give something more in
the ground of the soul, to wit, eternal will and the amiable coun-
sels of the Holy Ghost. Says the soul, "Lord, tell me, what is thy
eternal will?" and then if she has satisfied the above conditions,
I98 MEiStER ECKHART
and if God so please, the Father will speak his eternal Word into
the soul.
Now according to our good people we have got to be so per-
fect that no joy can move us; we must be indifferent to weal and
woe. They are wrong. I say, never was there saint so great but
he could be moved. But on the other hand I hold that it is pos-
sible with a holy man even in this body that nothing can move
him to turn aside from God. Do you think that as long as words
can move to joy and sorrow you are imperfect? No. Christ was
not. He proves it when he cries, "My soul is sorrowful even unto
death." Words wounded Christ sorely. The collective woe of
creatures falling upon one creature would not be so profound as
Christ's woe was, owing to his exalted nature, to the blessed
union of divine and human nature. By the same token I declare
that no saint ever lived nor ever shall [whom] pain could not
pain nor pleasure please. Now and then it happens in friendship
and in love or by a miracle—on being called a heretic, for in-
stance, or anything you will—that a person is suffused with
grace and indifferent to praise or blame. And with Religious (as
I said just now), it may well come about that nothing whatever
from outside can induce them to depart from God. Though the
heart be wrung or all discomfited, the will alone continues to
abide in God, saying, "Lord, I am thine and thou art mine."
Nothing that enters therein can lessen eternal well-being so long
as it does not invade the summit of the mind up yonder where it
is at one with the will of God.
Christ says, "Thou art troubled with many things." Martha
was Martha really. Her occupation was no hindrance to her:
work and calling, both, she turned to her eternal profit. She had
drawbacks, it is true, but always there remained nobility of
nature and unflagging industry besides her other virtues. Mary
was Martha before she was Mary. 25 She was not yet Mary while
she sat at the feet of our Lord. She was so in name, not in nature.
She was filled with joy and longing, for the first time at school
learning life. Martha was so, really, and that is why she urged,
"Lord, bid her get up," meaning to say, "Lord, I do not like her
25 Pfeiffer reads: Maria was i Martha, S si Maria wurde (p. 53). Biittner's re-
constructed text is clearer: Auch Maria musste erst noch eine Martha werden,
ehe sie wirklich eine Maria wurde (p. 106). The sense of the passage seems to
be this: Martha is already herself in full integrity. She knows that Mary
must first be a Martha before she can become a Mary. Martha realizes
that Mary has a further discipline to undergo. She asks the Lord's help in
bringing Mary to her real self.
CONTEMPLATION AND ACTION 199
sitting there just for the pleasure of it. I want her to learn life
and really possess it. Tell her to rise and really be Mary." She
was not really Mary while she was sitting at Christ's feet. Mary
I call a well-disciplined body obedient to wise counsels, and by
obedient I mean: what discrimination dictates, will abides by.
Now our good people fondly think they can reach a point where
sensible things are nonexistent to the senses. They never will:
that a disagreeable noise should be as grateful to the ear as the
sweet tones of a lyre is a thing I shall never attain to. But this
much we have a right to expect: when discrimination observes
that with rational, formal will rests decision, and orders the will
to be free, that the will should answer, "I will." Then, lo and
behold, strife changes to peace, for what a man wins by hard
work turns to heart's joy and then it is fruitful.
Again, some people hope to reach a point at which they are
excused from works. I say this is impossible.26 Not till after the
disciples had received the Holy Ghost did they begin to do good
works. While Mary sat at the feet of our Lord and listened to his
words, she was learning. She had just gone to school to learn
life. But later on, when she had learned her lesson and received
the Holy Ghost, she began to serve. She journeyed overseas
preaching and teaching and acting as servant and washerwoman
to the disciples. Only when the saints are saints, and not till
then, do they do meritorious works. Then they gather treasure
of eternal life. What is done before is by way of reparation and
repentance. Where do we find evidence for this? In Christ.
From the very beginning when he was made man he was work-
ing for our eternal happiness, and he went on to the end, to his
death upon the cross; not a member of his body but played its
own particular part. May we follow him faithfully in the path of
true virtue. So help us God. Amen.
26 Gf. Fragment, 14, Blakney, op. cit, p. 238 (Pfeiffer, no. 33, pp. 607-08);
Talks, 6, 10; cf. the first sermon in this anthology.
ON SOLITUDE AND THE ATTAINMENT
O F G O D 27
THE TEXT
I was asked this question: "Some people withdraw from society

and prefer to be alone; their peace of mind depends on it;
wouldn't it be better for them to be in the church?" I replied,
No! And you shall see why.
Those who do well do well wherever they are, and in what-
ever company, and those who do badly do badly wherever they
are, and in whatever company. But if a man does well, God is
really in him, and with him everywhere, on the streets and
among people just as much as in church, or a desert place, or a
cell. If he really has God, and only God, then nothing disturbs
him. Why?
Because he has only God and thinks only God and everything
is nothing but God to him. He discloses God in every act, in
every place. The whole business of his person adds up to God.
His actions are due only to Him who is the author of them and
not to himself, since he is merely the agent. If we mean God and
only God, then it is He who does what we do and nothing can
disturb him—neither company nor place. Thus, neither can any
person disturb him, for he thinks of nothing, is looking for noth-
ing, and relishes nothing but God, who is one with him by
perfect devotion. Furthermore, since God cannot be distracted
27 This translation of the Talks of Instruction, no. 6, is that of Blakney, Meister

Eckhart, New York and London, 1941, pp. 7-10, used by permission of the
publishers, Harper & Brothers. The word translated "solitude" is actually
Abgeschiedenheit. See Joseph Bernhart, Meister Eckhart: Reden der Unter-
weisung, Munich, 1922, p. 28; Pfeiffer, op. cit., pp. 547-52. Cf. Blakney's
translation of the treatise Von Abgeschiedenheit, pp. 82 ff. Cf. his notes, pp.
x and 315; also Pfeiffer, op. cit., pp. 483 ff. Cf. Serm.: Beatipauperes, Blak-
ney, op. cit.9 no. 28, pp. 227-32; Pfeiffer, no. 87, pp. 280 ff.
200
ON SOLITUDE AND THE ATTAINMENT OF GOD 201
by the numbers of things, neither can the person, for he is one
in One, in which all divided things are gathered up to unity and
there undifferentiated.
One ought to keep hold of God in everything and accustom
his mind to retain God always among his feelings, thoughts, and
loves. Take care how you think of God. As you think of him in
church or closet, think of him everywhere. Take him with you
among the crowds and turmoil of the alien world. As I have said
so often, speaking of uniformity, we do not mean that one should
regard all deeds, places, and people as interchangeable. That
would be a great mistake; for it is better to pray than to spin and
the church ranks above the street. You should, however, main-
tain the same mind, the same trust, and the same earnestness
toward God in all your doings. Believe me, if you keep this kind
of evenness, nothing can separate you from God-consciousness.
On the other hand, the person who is not conscious of God's
presence, but who must always be going out to get him from
this and that, who has to seek him by special methods, as by
means of some activity, person, or place—such people have not
attained God. It can easily happen that they are disturbed, for
they have not God and they do not seek, think, and love only
him, and therefore, not only will evil company be to them a
stumbling block, but good company as well—not only the street,
but the church; not only bad deeds and words, but good ones as
well. The difficulty lies within the man, for whom God has not
yet become everything. If God were everything, the man would
get along well wherever he went and among whatever people,
for he would possess God and no one could rob him or disturb
his work.
Of what does this true possession of God consist, when one
really has him? It depends on the heart and an inner, intellec-
tual return to God and not on steady contemplation by a given
method. It is impossible to keep such a method in mind, or at
least difficult, and even then it is not best. We ought not to have
or let ourselves be satisfied with the god we have thought of, for
when the thought slips the mind, that god slips with it. What
we want is rather the reality of God, exalted far above any
human thought or creature. Then God will not vanish unless
one turns away from him of his own accord.
When one takes God as he is divine, having the reality of God
within him, God sheds light on everything. Everything will taste
like God and reflect him. God will shine in him all the time. He
will have the disinterest, renunciation, and spiritual vision of his
202 MEISTER EGKHART
beloved, ever-present Lord. He will be like one athirst with a
real thirst; he cannot help drinking even though he thinks of
other things. Wherever he is, with whomsoever he may be,
whatever his purpose or thoughts or occupation—the idea of the
Drink will not depart as long as the thirst endures; and the
greater the thirst the more lively, deep-seated, present, and
steady the idea of the Drink will be. Or suppose one loves some-
thing with all that is in him, so that nothing else can move him
or give pleasure, and he cares for that alone, looking for nothing
more; then wherever he is or with whomsoever he may be,
whatever he tries or does, that Something he loves will not be
extinguished from his mind. He will see it everywhere, and the
stronger his love grows for it the more vivid it will be. A person
like this never thinks of resting because he is never tired.
The more he regards everything as divine—more divine than
it is of itself—the more God will be pleased with him. To be sure,
this requires effort and love, a careful cultivation of the spiritual
life, and a watchful, honest, active oversight of all one's mental
attitudes toward things and people. It is not to be learned by
world-flight, running away from things, turning solitary and
going apart from the world. Rather, one must learn an inner
solitude, wherever or with whomsoever he may be. He must
learn to penetrate things and find God there, to get a strong im-
pression of God firmly fixed in his mind.
It is like learning to write. To acquire this art, one must prac-
tice much, however disagreeable or difficult it may be, however
impossible it may seem. Practicing earnestly and often, one
learns to write, acquires the art. To be sure, each letter must
first be considered separately and accurately, reproduced over
and over again; but once having acquired skill, one need not
pay any attention to the reproduction [of the letters] or even
think of them. He will write fluently and freely whether it be
penmanship or some bold work, in which his art appears. It is
sufficient for the writer to know that he is using his skill and
since he does not always have to think of it, he does his work by
means of it.
So a man should shine with the divine Presence without hav-
ing to work at it. He should get the essence out of things and let
the things themselves alone. That requires at first attentiveness
and exact impressions, as with the student and his art. So one
must be permeated with divine Presence, informed with the
forms of beloved God who is within him, so that he may radiate
that Presence without working at it.
ABOUT THE BODY OF OUR LORD, HOW
OFTEN ONE SHOULD PARTAKE OF IT,
W I T H WHAT D E V O T I O N AND IN W H A T
M A N N E R 28
THE TEXT
Those who would like to partake of the body of our Lord should
not wait until they feel an upsurge of emotion or devotion, but
let them rather consider their attitude or disposition [toward
it]. Attach significance, not to what you feel like, but rather to
what you are to receive and to your thoughts about it.
The person who wants to go to our Lord and go with a free
heart, must first make sure that his conscience is without re-
proach. In the second place, his will must point only to God and
he must so concentrate on God that he can take pleasure in noth-
ing but God, and so that he will be displeased by all that is not
leading to God. This is the test by which one may prove how
far away from God he is—or how near—according as he is less
or more this way. The third rule is that his affection of our Lord
shall grow with each repeated Communion and that his rever-
ence for the sacrament does not diminish with familiarity.
It is often true that what is life to one is death to another.
Therefore, be careful that your love for God grows and your
reverence does not die out. Then, granted that, the oftener you
take the sacrament the better off you will be and the more
salutary and beneficial you will find it. Thus, do not let any
speech or sermon persuade you away from your God, for the
more you go the better, and the dearer God will be to you.
For our Lord takes pleasure by living in men and with them.
But perhaps you say: "Yes, sir, but I feel so bare and cold and
dull that I dare not go to the Lord!" To which I reply:
So much the more your need to go to God! Being joined to
28
The translation of The Talks of Instruction, no. 20, is that of Blakney,
Meister Eckhart, pp. 27-30. Used by permission of Harper & Brothers. See
Petry, "Social Responsibility/' Church History, Vol. 21, pt. 1, pp. 8-9.
203
204 MEISTER ECKHART
him, made one with him, you will be justified: for the grace you
shall find in the sacrament will nowhere else be so evident.
There, your physical powers will be assembled and focused by
the superlative power of the presence of our Lord's body, the
scattered senses brought together into unison, and several of
them, being aimed too low, will be lifted up so that they, too,
point, like true offerings, to God.
Then the loving God conditions them to spiritual ways, weans
them from the obstruction of temporal things, makes them
adroit in matters divine, strengthens and renews them by his
body. For we are to be changed into him and sometime made
one with him, so that what is his shall be ours and what is ours,
his: our hearts and his are to be one heart; our body and his, one
body. So, too, it shall be with our senses, wills, thoughts, facul-
ties, and members: they are all to be transported into him, so
that we feel with him and are made aware of him in every part
of the body and soul.
Perhaps you say: "But, sir, I am not aware that I have any-
thing to offer more impressive than poverty; how then can I go
to him?"
My goodness! If you want to exchange your poverty, why not
go straight to that treasury of inestimable value and get rich?
For you ought to know that, as far as you are concerned, his is
the only treasure with which you will be contented or satisfied.
Therefore say to him: "I am coming to you so that your wealth
may supply my poverty, so that the unsearchable You may fill
my emptiness and your unlimited Godhead, more than man
may conceive, shall fulfill my base, spoiled humanity."
"But, sir, I have sinned too much; I shall never be able to
atone!"
For that reason, go to him; he has richly atoned for your
guilt. It is your free opportunity to make the best of all offerings
for your guilt to the Heavenly Father through him.
"But, sir, I should like to be able to thank God; but I can-
not!"
Still go to him, for our Lord alone is agreeable to the divine
goodness and a perfect, unquestionable, and true measure of
gratitude to God. In brief, if you want to be relieved of all your
defects and be clad in garments of virtue and grace, and to be
led with joy again to the Source of your being, plan to partake
worthily and often of the sacrament and so be joined to our
Lord, ennobled by his body.
Indeed, the soul too may be led so near to God by the body of
ABOUT THE BODY OF OtTR LORD 205
our Lord that all the angels, not excepting the cherubim and
seraphim, shall not see any difference. For where they touch
God they touch the soul, and where they touch the soul they
touch God. There never was another such union [as between
the soul and God], for the soul is nearer to God than it is to the
body which makes us human. 29 It is more intimate with him
than a drop of water put into a vat of wine, for that would still
be water and wine; but here one is changed into the other so
that no creature could ever again detect a difference between
them.
Still you may say: "How can this be? There is nothing in my
experience to correspond to it!"
What difference does that make? The less you experience and
yet believe such things the more praiseworthy your faith will be,
and the more distinctive and worth-while; for perfect faith is
much more than human illusion. Through our Lord we get cer-
tain knowledge. The truth is that we lack nothing but perfect
faith. That it seems to us that one thing is better than another is
due merely to our physical limitations, for one thing is not more
than another. If you have the same faith in everything, you will
get as much, and have as much, out of one thing as another.
You might also say, "How may I believe such great things,
while I am still so defective and given to so many other
matters?"
See! You must observe two things about yourself that our
Lord also had to deal with. He too had higher and lower powers,
each having its own function. By his higher powers, he possessed
and enjoyed the bliss of eternity while, at the same time, by his
lower powers, he went through much suffering and struggle
here on earth, and still this did not inhibit the function of the
higher powers. So it should be with you. Your higher faculties
should be trained on God, offered up to him and consecrated to
him at all times.
Moreover, we should assign suffering solely to the body, the
lower faculties, and the senses, and with all our strength freely
plunge the spirit into God. The spirit will not be tempted by
suffering, the senses, and [concerns of] the lower faculties. The
increasing struggle, becoming ever more fierce, only magnifies
the victory and emphasizes the glory of it. The stronger the
temptation, the more insistent the impulse to vice, the more
29
Bernhart, Reden, p. 68: Denn die Seek ist viel enger mit Gott vereint, als Leib und
Seek. . . . Cf. Karrer, Eckhart, p. 88, for references on the proximity of
God and the soul.
206 MElSTER fcC&HART
genuine man's virtue will be and the dearer to God, once he has
overcome it. Therefore, if you wish to receive God worthily,
take care that your higher powers are directed toward God, that
your will is seeking his; be careful also what you think about him
and to fix your faith in him.
One does not receive the true body of our Lord, having this
attitude, without receiving a special measure of grace and the
more often it is so the better. Indeed, it is possible to receive the
body of the Lord with such devotion and consideration, one's
life being otherwise well-ordered, that he is received up into the
lowest choir of angels. Again, it may so be received that one is
raised up into the second choir. Indeed, you may so receive it as
to be worthy of the eighth or ninth choir.
Thus, if two persons lived alike and one received the body of
the Lord worthily, one more than the other, he would be to that
other person like a blinding sun and would have a special unity
with God.
This partaking of the blessed body of our Lord and the enjoy-
ment of it consists not only of the visible enjoyment involved,
but also of the spiritual partaking of divine unison and devotion
by a hungry heart. One may eat of this [inner food] until he be-
comes richer in grace than any other person on earth. He may
eat it a thousand times a day and oftener wherever he wishes,
whether sick or well. He may prepare for it as for the sacrament,
by means of a well-ordered life and great desire for it. If, how-
ever, one is not orderly and has not the desire, he should compel
himself to it, and keep at it, until in time he does become holy
and in eternity, blessed. May the Lord grant us the truth, the
requisite love of purity and life eternal.30 Amen.
30
Gf. the Serm.: Expedit vobis, Blakney, op, cit,> pp. 198 ff., on excessive
concern with outward observances.
L O V E C A N N O T BE L A Z Y : A F R A G M E N T 31
(Pfeiffer, 33)
THE TEXT
Meister Eckhart said that no person in his life may reach the
point at which he can be excused from outward service.
Even if he is given to a life of contemplation, still he cannot re-
frain from going out and taking an active part in life. Even as a
person who has nothing at all may still be generous for his will
to give, another may have great wealth and not be generous
because he gives nothing; so no man may have virtues without
using them as time and occasion require. Thus, those who are
given to the life of contemplation and avoid activities deceive
themselves and are on the wrong track. I say that the contem-
plative person should indeed avoid even the thought of deeds to
be done during the period of his contemplation, but afterward
he should get busy, for no one can or should engage in con-
templation all the time, for active life is to be a respite from
contemplation.3 2
31 This fragment is translated by Blakney, Meister Eckhart, as no. 14, p. 238.

Used by permission of Harper & Brothers. It is no. 33, pp. 607-08 in
Pfeiffer, Meister Eckhart.
32 Gf. the sermon on Mary and Martha in the anthology, as also Talks of
Instruction, nos. 6 and 10.
207
VII
Richard Rolle: Hermit
of Hampole (c. 1300-1^)
INTRODUCTION
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
r ICHARD ROLLE WAS BORN NEAR PICKERING

Yorkshire around 1300. His education at Oxford was
». probably underwritten by some interested Yorkshire-
man. The Oxford undergraduate underwent a profound con-
IN
version. He left the university and adopted a kind of hermit life.

This was presumably for a time under the patronage of John de
Dalton, Esquire. A later estrangement from Dalton was possibly
succeeded by a period of study at the Sorbonne. Perhaps during
this time he underwent his final initiation into mystical delights
which he describes in the Fire of Love and other like works. Dur-
ing a stay near Richmond, he profited from spiritual association
with an anchoress, Margaret Kirkeby, and later came to be a
director of a convent of Cistercian nuns at Hampole. He died in
1349, probably of the Black Death.
See DS II, 1995. For a perceptive treatment consult R.
Jones, The Flowering of Mysticism, The Macmillan Company,
New York, 1939, pp. 211 ff. A classic attempt at editing Rolle's
works was that of C. Horstman, Torkshire Writers: Richard Rolle of
Hampole and His Followers, 2 vols., London and New York, 1895-
1896. The authoritative establishment of his corpus is by H. E.
Allen, Writings Ascribed to Richard Rolle, Hermit of Hampole, and
Materials for His Biography (Modern Language Association of
America; Monograph Series, III), New York and London, 1927.
Her basic volume of selections, English Writings of Richard Rolle,
Hermit of Hampole, Oxford University Press, London, 1931, has
a splendid introduction as well. Also quite useful is a modern-
208
INTRODUCTION 209
ized rendering of Selected Works of Richard Rolle, Hermit, including
The Form of Perfect Living, transcribed by G. C. Heseltine, Long-
mans, Green & Co., London, 1930. The Incendium amoris has
been ably edited by M. Deanesly, London, 1915. Richard
Misyn's translation of the Incendium, i.e., Fire of Love or Melody of
Love, and The Mending of Life or Rule of Living has been edited
and introduced by F. M. M. Comper and E. Underhill, Lon-
don, 1914. G. Hodgson has editions of The Psalms and Our Daily
Work, London, 1928, 1929.
SYNOPSIS
There is truth in the assertion that the English school of
spirituality is, with the exception of Walter Hilton, a non-
systematic one. Its end is practical, that is, the description and
the application of spirituality.
Richard Rolle inaugurates this school. Among his chief works
are the Fire of Love {Incendium amoris) and The Mending of Life,
both translated by Richard Misyn in 1434-1435, and The Form
of Perfect Living. The more refined subtleties of speculative spir-
ituality and pure abstractions of thought are here at a minimum.
Contemplation in Rolle employs an intellectual approach, but
this mystical state has as its end the loving union of the soul with
its God. Faithful dedication to the Trinity and the life of the
Divine Persons is thereby ingrained.1 The unitive life itself sur-
passes the role of sheer knowledge. But God and the love of
Christ are uppermost in contemplative exercise.2 Rolle seems so
far inclined to shun all distractions from heavenly communica-
tion as, at times, to proscribe even charitable activities. Allow-
ing for misunderstandings at this point, Rolle's emphasis on
"contemplation" versus "action" is a far cry from Hilton's
praise of the "medeled" or "mixed" life following Gregory and
Bernard. Rolle never tires of stressing the logical incompatibility
between full contemplative concentration and the constant
demands of social service. But, having inexorably put con-
templation above any and all social claims, he manifests chari-
table concern for others to no mean extent.3 Certainly, works of
charity are never wholly lacking in him, although he never per-
mits anything but the most secondary role to be ascribed to the
active life. As will be noted, however, there is every evidence
1 Form, 12. 2 Fire, I I , 8; Form, 12; Mending, 1, 2 , 8, 11.

3 Fire, I, 13, 21 ff.; Mending, 12.
14—L.M.M.
210 RICHARD ROLLEI HERMIT OF HAMPOLE
that Rolle finds the contemplative experience itself a freshly
beautiful one when accentuated by the company of other seekers
after unrestricted union.4
Rolle himself claims to have had the experience of love he so
exalts in his writings. He compares the experience to fire, heat,
or color and to spiritual music, or chant, i.e., canor, equal to that
of the angels.5 He likens it also to ravishment, raptus, and to
sweetness, dulcor, which accompanies it. Rolle, be it noted, dis-
tinguishes ravishment involving abstention from the bodily
senses and rapture without abstention from the senses. The
second is more perfect than the first. This last consists in "the
lifting of the mind into God by contemplation."6 In spite of
learned pleas to the contrary, one does well to discard any thesis
reducing Rolle's mysticism to that of sensible phenomena alone.
Nor are color> canor, and dulcor to be regarded as merely three
phases often intermixed in the contemplative life.7
The Incendium amoris analyzes the nature of this sweetness,
heat, and song. There are, Rolle says, two kinds of rapture. One
consists of being rapt in the bodily senses "by love in the feeling
of the flesh." For the other, one is rapt from the senses to some
vision, terrifying or pleasing, "from bodily feeling to a joyful or
dreadful sight." He prefers the rapture of Love; that is, the kind
involving rapture in not from the senses. Even some sinners have
known that rapture which carries the soul out of the senses.
But that rapture in which the mind is raised to God through
contemplation is reserved for those only who love God. Still,
this is as properly called rapture as the other, for, as the term
raptus suggests, it does come to pass by violence, and, seemingly
against nature.8 Here Allen notes that Rolle apparently claims
to experience a mystic ecstasy that historians of a puristically
interpreted mysticism would deny him. Even Underhill, for
instance, would severely edit the ecstatic claims of Rolle.9
This rapture of love in the bodily senses, Rolle holds to excel
all the actions of the present life. It is to him "'a kind of fore-
* Fire, II, 5; note that the Epistle on Mixed Life wrongly attributed to Rolle by
G. G. Perry, English Prose Treatises, EETS 20, London, 1866, was properly
ascribed to Walter Hilton by Horstman, op. cit., Vol. I, pp. 264 ff. See
Petry, "Social Responsibility," Church History, Vol. 21, pt. 1, pp. 10-11 and
notes. Cf. Comper, Fire of Love, p. x.
* Incendium, 14, 15; Fire, I, 14-15; Allen, English Writings, pp. xxv-xxix;
Form,r 8; Mending, 12, 11.
« Incendium, 37; Fire, I I , 7. ? DS II, 1996-97.
« Cap. 37, Deanesly cd., pp. 253-57; Fi™> U» 7J Allen, English Writings,
9
pp. xxviii-xxix. English Writings, p. xxix, note 1; DS II, 1996.
INTRODUCTION 211
10
taste of eternal sweetness.'" Allen declares that in this
experience resides the core of Rolle's mysticism. It is the
preoccupation of his writings and is emotionally rooted. It finds
its expression in sense terms but entails a purity in keeping with
that of the immortal body acclimated to heaven.11
The obscure, oft recounted, details of Rolle's early experience
cannot here be retold. Somehow, following his early schooling
preparatory to and at Oxford, he had an experience of conver-
sion which he describes in the Fire of Love and in the Encomium
on the Name of Jesus, among others. In the midst of this profound
experience he fled the university and took up the hermit's life.
The details are recounted in a generally credible fashion in the
Office later prepared, but never used, for RoUe.12
Rolle perhaps took up the eremitic life as a kind of contem-
porary alternative to the Franciscan mode of Poverty. Clearly
enough, the example of Francis was in his mind then, as after-
ward.13 From several of Rolle's writings, Allen pieces together
the story of his probable itinerary of the spirit. This traces his
initial months or years under the patronage of John de Dalton
and his difficulty, ecclesiastical in part, over the irregular
methods of his somewhat arbitrary well-wisher. Apparently,
Rolle did not limit himself strictly to hermit life. He seems to
have served, in some restricted function at least, as a pastor of
souls during perhaps this, and certainly at a later, period of his
life.14 A portion of this preparatory period may indeed have
been at the Sorbonne, where Rolle probably had a part of his
eighteen months' readying for the mystic life. One of his early
spiritual crises carried with it the deliverance from a peculiarly
stringent temptation of the flesh through the efficacy of the
name of Jesus, upon whom he called in his extremity. That
name had for him, ever afterward, a unique place of honor in
his spiritual journey.15 A second great crisis came perhaps soon
10 Incendium, cap. 37, Deanesly ed., p. 256.
" English Writings, p. xxix; cf. Rolle, Ps. 83:6; Mending, 11.
12 Cf. Jones, Flowering, p. 212; English Writings, pp. xiv ff.; Did. thiol. cath.,
Vol. 13, pt. 2, cols. 2844-46; Fire, II, 7. The Encomium is in Heseltine (Of
the Virtues of the Holy Name of Jesus), Selected Works, pp. 81-85. The Office
is in F. M. M. Comper, The Life and Lyrics of Richard Rolle, J. M. Dent &
Sons, Ltd., London, and E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc., New York, 1928,
Appendix I, and in Comper, Fire, pp. xlv ff.
13 Jones, Flowering, p. 213; Mending, 2-3; Allen, English Writings, p. xlv.
14 English Writings, xviii, xxi-xxiv; cf. the Office; the Encomium, etc.
15 Cf. the Encomium and numerous apostrophies to Jesus' name and his Pas-
sion in the Lyrics, etc. Cf. in Heseltine, Selected Works, the Ego dormio9
Meditations on the Passion, The Bee, etc. Cf. also Mending, 11 and 12.
212 RICHARD ROLLE: HERMIT OF HAMPOLE
after his leaving the Daltons' patronage. Earlier, there had been
a first opening of the heavenly door. Now he entered on the
second stage of initiation into the mystical joys described in the
famous chapter 15 of the Incendium amoris (i.e., the Fire of Love I,
15). This was his entrance into the triple endowment of "heat,
sweetness and song."16
It has already been noted that Rolle prefers the rapture of
Love, in the bodily senses, to the rapture from the bodily senses
to some vision.17 Rolle apparently believes that his early ex-
periences partake already in some degree of heavenly things. In
his English Psaltery ch. 16:7, he recalls how softly, but power-
fully, heaven draws upon his soul. In the Psalter, ch. 35:9, he
notes that God's lovers are inebriated in contemplative sweet-
ness "'and greatly delighted in the ardent access of Christ's
love.'" Allen thinks that here he has pushed to its logical con-
clusion the doctrine of bodily immortality. He evidently holds
that it is the part of virtue "to purify the senses and the affec-
tions," not to demolish them. From first to last he insists that his
mystical joy will not change in kind even when he attains to
celestial bliss and the angelic society. The memory of the name
of Jesus has never left him, nor the emotions evoked by it.18
As for the harsh judgments on Rolle by some of his contem-
poraries and his own aspersions against some of the spiritual in-
stitutions of his day, little need be said here. His main animad-
versions are against contemporary priests and monks, especially,
rather than against the mendicants. For the Franciscans he con-
tinues to have a large element of sympathy. This may be con-
nected with his stay at Hampole, whose confessors were Minors.
His joy has in it the Franciscan ring. He, too, is something of a
troubadour. No one can read his poetic effusions on Jesus the
Christ without thinking of the Poverello. His love for Poverty set
forth in the Form, The Mending of Life, the English Psalter, chs.
9:31-32; 46:9, etc., is extreme in its Franciscan demand. He
may even have undergone influence by the Spirituals while at
Paris. His criticism of the clergy carries no insinuation of schism
on his part. He thinks of himself as quite orthodox. The faults he
condemns in the clergy are, in the Regulars, especially, the de-
fections from any distinctively spiritual witness.19
16
English Writings, pp. xxiv-xxviii; cf. the Office; Mending, 11 and 12.
17
Incendium, 37; Fire, II, 7.
18
English Writings, pp. xxx-xxxi.
19 Ibid., pp. xvi, xliii-xlvii; Mending, 3; Form, 3. Miss Allen devotes some
suggestive pages to Rolle's possible sojourns at Paris on perhaps two occa-
INTRODUCTION 213
Surely, Rolle will have been deeply misread by any who pur-
port to find in him a misanthrope unconcerned with daily life.
As already indicated, Rolle does not disparage the social obli-
gations of men. He definitely makes a place for this in his writ-
ings. He does as definitely eschew social busyness for the one
given to the highest contemplative work. Still, even here, he is
no antisocial being. "Love cannot be lazy." And in the amazing
chapters 34-35 of the Incendium {Fire II, 4-5), he longs poign-
antly for a friend who may help him to express the canor, the
highest ecstasy of his joyous contemplative song. In the later
years at Hampole, perhaps, he finds a measure of the equi-
librium that contemplation must always seek to establish with
action.20
sions. She considers the evidence for his having undergone literary in-
fluences there, and/or at Oxford, emanating from stricter Franciscans,
and Spirituals such as Angelo da Clareno and Jacopone da Todi. These
speculations can have little more conclusiveness than our own queries as
to his having sustained contacts, however indirect, with Marsilius of
Padua, William of Ockham, and Michael de Cesena. See English Writings,
pp. 28-33; Writings Ascribed to Richard Rolle, pp. 332-35; 490-500.
20
Ibid., p. liii; Gomper, Fire, p. x; Fire, I, 13, 21.
THE MENDING OF LIFE OR RULE
OF LIVING, AS TRANSLATED BY
RICHARD MISYN IN 1434 FROM "DE
EMENDATIONE VITAE" BY RICHARD
ROLLE OF HAMPOLE: AND NOW
DONE INTO MODERN ENGLISH"
THIS BOOK IS OF THE MENDING OF LIFE,
OR ELSE OF THE RULE OF LIVING,
DISTINCT IN XII CHAPTERS:
THE FIRST: OF CONVERSION OR HOLY
TURNING
THE SECOND: OF THE DESPISING OF THE
WORLD
THE THIRD: OF POVERTY
THE FOURTH: OF THE SETTING OF MAN'S
LIFE
THE FIFTH: OF TRIBULATION
THE SIXTH: OF PATIENCE
THE SEVENTH: OF PRAYER
THE EIGHTH: OF MEDITATION
THE NINTH: OF READING
THE TENTH: OF CLEANNESS OF MIND
THE ELEVENTH: OF THE LOVE OF GOD
THE TWELFTH: OF THE CONTEMPLATION
OF GOD
Of these, as God will grant, we shall pursue.
21
Edited by F. M. M. Comper with an introduction by E. Underhill in the
Fire of Love or Melody of Love and The Mending of Life or Rule of Living, Lon-
don, 1914. Used by permission of Methuen & Co., Ltd.
Richard Rolle: Hermit
of Hampole (c. ijoo-i^g)
THE MENDING OF LIFE
THE TEXT
Chapter I
Of Conversion
Tarry thou not to our Lord to be turned, nor put it off from
day to day; for ofttimes the cruelty of death ravishes the
wretched, and bitterness of pains suddenly devours them that
now irk to be turned. It may not be numbered by us how many
of the worldly wicked presumption has beguiled.
Truly it is a great sin to trust in God's mercy and not cease
from sin, trowing God's mercy be so mickle that he will not
give righteous pain to sinners. "Work ye therefore whiles it is
day, the night truly comes in which no man may work."22
"Light or day" he calls this life, in which we ought never to
cease from good working, knowing that death to us is sicker,23
the hour of death truly unsicker. "The night" he calls death, in
the which our members are bound, and wits put by, and we may
not now work any healthful thing, but shall receive joy or tor-
mentry according to our works. In a point we live, yea, less than
a point; for if we would liken all our life to the life everlasting,
it is nought.
Therefore how waste we our life in love of vanity, not without
grievous damnation; and all day negligent, without repenting,
we stand idle. Lord, therefore turn us and we shall be turned;
heal us and we shall be healed.24 Many truly are not healed, but
their wounds rot and fester; for to-day turned to God, to-mor-
row [are turned] 25 from Him; to-day doing penance, to-
morrow turning to their ill. [Of such it is said,] "we have cured
22 John 9:4.
23
C e r t a i n ; " u n s i c k e r , " uncertain.
24jer. 17:14.
25 All square-bracketed words are added from Douce MS. 322; Gomper,
Mending, p. 198 and note lxxv.
215
2l6 RICHARD ROLLE: HERMIT OF HAMPOLE
Babylon and it is not healed," for to Christ it is not truly
turned. 26
What is turning to God but turning from the world and from
sin; from the fiend and from the flesh? What is turning from
God but turning from unchangeable good to changeable good;
to the liking beauty of creatures; to the works of the fiend; to
lust of the flesh and the world? Not with going of feet are we
turned to God, but with the change of our desires and manners.
Turning to God is also done whiles we direct the sharpness of
our minds to him, and evermore think of his counsel and his
commandments, that they may be fulfilled by us, and, wherever
we be, sitting or standing, the dread of God pass not from our
hearts. I speak not of dread that has pain, but that is in charity,27
with which we give reverence to the presence of so great a
Majesty, and alway we dread that we offend not in any little
thing. Soothly, thus disposed, to God we are truly turned [be-
cause we are turned] from the world.
To be turned from the world is nought else but to put aback
all lust, and to suffer the bitterness of this world gladly for God;
and to forget all idle occupations and worldly errands, in so
mickle28 that our soul, wholly turned to God, dies pithily29 to
all things loved or sought in the world. Therefore being given to
heavenly desires they have God evermore before their eyes, as if
they should unwearily behold Him, as the holy prophet bears
witness: Providebam Dominum in conspectu meo semper,*0 that is to
say "In my sight I saw our Lord evermore before me." Not only
the space of an hour; as do they that set all fair or lovely earthly
things before the eyes of their hearts, which they behold and in
which they delight and desire for love to rest. And after the
prophet says: Oculi mei semper ad Dominum; quoniam ipse evellet de
laqueo pedesmeos^1 that is: "Mine eyes evermore are to our Lord,
for he shall deliver my feet from the snare." By this is shewed
that except our inward eyes to Christ unwearily be raised we
may not escape the snares of temptation. And there are many
lettings32 so that the eyes of our heart may not be fixed on God;
of which we put some: abundance of riches; flattering of
women; the fairness and beauty of youth. This is the threefold
rope that scarcely may be broken;33 and yet it behoves to be
broken and despised that Christ may be loved.
Truly he that desires to love Christ truly, not only without
26 Jer. 51:9. 27 I John 4:18. 28 Much.
29 I.e., to the core. *> Ps. 15 (i6):8. 3i Ps. 24 (25): 15.
32 Hindrances. 33 Eccl. 4:12.
THE MENDING OF LIFE 217
heaviness but with a joy unmeasured—he casts away all things
that may let him. And in this case he spares neither father nor
mother; nor himself; he receives no man's cheer; hd does vio-
lence to all his letters;34 and he breaks through all obstacles.
Whatever he can do seems little to him so that he may love God.
He flees from vices as a brainless man and looks not to worldly
solace, but certainly and wholly directed to God, he has nearly
forgotten his sensuality. He is gathered all inward and all lifted
up into Christ, so that when he seems to men as if heavy, he is
wonderfully glad.
But there are many that say they will turn to God, but they
cannot yet, they say, for they are holden back by this occupation
or other; whose cold mind sorrowingly we reprove. For with-
outen doubt and they were touched with the least spark of
Christ's love, anon with all busyness they would seek which way
they might come to God's service, and in seeking they would not
cease until they had found.
Ofttimes they feign excuses, which the rather accuses them
more. Riches forsooth withdraws many, and the flattering of
women beguiles them; and they that have long done well some-
times are drowned, by them, in the worst dikes. For fairness is
soon loved; and when it feels itself loved, it is lightly cherished;35
and the chosen one is cast down, and after turning or conver-
sion, he is made worse than he was before. Then his name is
blackened, and he that before was worthy now is despised of all
men and hated of all.
I saw a man truly of whom they said that he chastised his
body with marvelous sharpness for fifteen years, and afterward
he lapsed into sin with his servant's wife, nor might he be parted
from her until his death. In his dying truly they said that he
cursed the priests that came to him, and refused to receive the
sacraments.
Therefore the newly turned ought for to flee the occasion of
sinning; and with their will avoid words, deeds, and sights stir-
ring to ill. The more unlawful a thing is, the more it is to be
forsaken.
The fiend also strongly upbraids against them which he sees
turned from him and turned to God, and ceases not to kindle
fleshly and worldly desires. He brings to mind lusts done before,
and the desolation of the contrite; and unprofitable desires that
were slaked before stir themselves. Among these it behoves the
35
34 Hinderers. Readily encouraged.
2l8 RICHARD ROLLE: HERMIT OF HAMPOLE
penitent manfully to use himself, and to take ghostly armor to
gainstand the devil and all his suggestions; and to slake fleshly
desires and ever to desire God's love; and to go not from him,
despising the world: of the which now we shall speak.
Chapter II
Of the Despising of the World
To despise this world is to pass through this life without the
love of all temporal and passing things; to seek nothing in this
world but God; for all vainglory and solace not to care; scarcely
to take thy necessaries, and if they sometimes want, to bear it
goodly. This is the despising of this world. Have this in mind if
thou wilt not be slain [through love of it]. Thus is the world
despised and not loved.
All, soothly, that we love we worship; it is also foul to worship
dirt, that is, to love earthly things. Therefore these rich nig-
gards 36 bind themselves thrall in most foul filth and stink, and
joy to be called lords of men, [though they be servants of sin].
If a man be lord of men, that is not of nature but of fortune.
That man is subject to vice is from a froward will. Put away
therefore thy wicked will, and thou shalt be free from the fiend
and from sin and made the servant of righteousness which
teaches thee not to love earthly things.
Covetousness of the world and the love of God truly are con-
trary, and rest not together in one soul. The place is so strait
that one falls out. The more soothly37 thou castest out covetous-
ness the more thou tastest God's love. The more covetousness,
the less charity.
O wretched soul, what seekest thou in this world where thou
seest that all things are deceitful and passing? They soonest be-
guile thee that most flatter thee. Why busiest thou thyself for
mortal things? Why yearnest thou with great desire for the
things that shall perish? Seest thou not that they perish sooner
than they are gotten? "But I wot where thou dwellest, where
Satan's seat is," 38 that has blinded thine eyes and by his false-
hoods has scorned thee: so that thou shouldest desire fleeting
things and love hateful things, and despise abiding things and
be drawn to things vanishing. And so thou settest thyself on a
false ground,39 and when thou weenest to stand thou fallest into
the fire.
36 Misers. 37 Surely. 38 Rev. 2:13. 39 Foundation.
THE MENDING OF LIFE 2ig
The dwellers in temporal plenty are beguiled by five things

that they love: by riches; by dignity; by will; by power; and by
honors. These bind them in sin, and constrain them in defaults;
with these lusts they are overcome, and never are loosed but by
death; but their loosing is too late when there is no more save
endless pain. This lets them from despising the world; from
God's love; from knowledge of themselves; from the desire for
the Heavenly Kingdom. No man may be saved unless he cease
to love the world with all that is therein. Cease therefore whiles
heat is in the body and the fair age of youth yet abides.
What things shall delight him that disposes himself to love
Christ? He will despise youth and will keep his strength for
God; riches he counts for nought; he will take heed that this
fairness is vain, and grace deceitful. Whereto shall I run on one
by one? He shall perfectly despise all things that in this world
pass as a shadow.40
O lover of the flesh, what findest thou in thy flesh wherefore
thou so delightest in it? Does the form or shape please thee, or
hast thou now thy joy in a skin? Why takest thou not heed what
is hid under the skin? Or knowest thou not that fleshly fairness
is the covering of filth, and the dregs of corruption, and oft the
cause of damnation? Therefore be it enough for thee, all other
things being despised, to love God; to praise God; with God to
be; in God to joy; and from him not to part, but to cleave to
Him with unslakened desire.
The world itself compels us to despise the world that is so full
of wretchedness; in which is abiding malice, destroying per-
secution, swelling wrath, fretting41 lust, false blaming for sin,
and bitterness of slander; where all things are confused and
withouten order; where neither righteousness is loved nor truth
approved; where faithfulness is unfaithful, and friendship cruel,
that stands in prosperity and falls in adversity.
There are yet other things that should move us to the despis-
ing of the world: the changeableness of time; shortness of this
life; death sicker; the chance42 of death unsicker; the stableness
of everlastingness and the vanity of things present; the truth of
thejoystocome.
Choose what thou wilt. If thou love the world, with it thou
shalt perish; if thou love Christ, with him thou shalt reign.
40 Eccl. 7:1 (6:12).

41
Consuming.
42 H o w it befalls or comes about.
220 RICHARD R O L L E : HERMIT OF HAMPOLE
Chapter III
Of Poverty
If thou wilt be perfect, go, sell all that thou hast, and give it
to the poor, and come and follow Christ.43 In the forsaking of
worldly things and in the following of Christly things, it is
shown there is perfection. Forsooth, all that have forsaken their
goods follow not Christ, for many are worse after the forsaking
of their goods than they were before. Then certain they serve
backbiting, and they dread not to withdraw the good fame of
their neighbors. Then they swell with envy; they gnash with
malice; they set themselves before all others; they praise their
state, all others they either dispraise or condemn. Trowest thou
how that the fiend has beguiled such, that have neither the
world nor God, whom by divers wiles he leads to endless tor-
mentry.
Thou that understandest what I have said, take thy poverty
another way. When He says, "Go and sell," he marks the chang-
ing of thy desire and of thy thought, as thus: he that was proud
now be lowly; that was wrathful now be meek; he that was
envious now be charitable; before covetous, now generous and
discreet. And if he were unclean, now let him abstain not only
from all ill but from all likeness of ill. And if before he exceeded
in meat or drink, now by fasting let him amend. He, soothly,
that loved the world too mickle, now let him gather himself al-
together in Christ's love; and fasten all the waverings of his
heart in one desire for things everlasting. And so no marvel that
willful poverty shall be fruitful to him, and the noy that he suf-
fers for God be a glorious crown. Beati pauperes spiritu, quoniam
ipsorum est regnum caelorum.44 That is to say: "Blessed be they that
are poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven."
What is poverty of spirit but meekness of mind, by the which
a man knows his own infirmity? Seeing that he may not come to
perfect stableness but by the grace of God, all things that might
let him from that grace he forsakes, and he sets his desire only in
the joy of his Maker. And as of one root spring many branches,
so of willful poverty, taken in this wise, proceed virtues and mar-
velousness untrowed. Not as some that change their clothes and
not their souls; soothly it seems they forsake riches; yet they
cease not to gather innumerable vices.
What is worse than a proud poor man? What more cursed
44
43 Matt. 19:21. Matt. 5:3.
than an envious beggar? If thou truly forsake all things for God,
see more what thou despisest than what thou forsakest. Take
heed busily how thou folio west Christ in manners. Discite, inquit,
a me quia mitis sum, et humilis corde.45 "Learn of me," he says, "for
I am meek and lowly of heart." He says not, "Learn of me for I
am poor." Truly by itself poverty is no virtue but rather
wretchedness; nor for itself praised, but because it is the instru-
ment of virtue and helps to get blessedness, and makes many
eschew many occasions of sinning. And therefore it is to be
praised and desired. It lets a man from being honored, although
he be virtuous; but rather it makes him despised and overled,46
and cast out among lovers of the world. To suffer all which for
Christ is highly needful.
Therefore Christ to our example led a poor life in this way,47
for he knew that for them that abound in riches and liking48 it
is hard to enter into heaven.49
Therefore so that men should desire poverty more greedily he
has behested50 high honor and the power of justice to them that
forsake all things for him, saying: Vos qui reliquistis omnia et secuti
estis me, sedebitis super sedes duodecim, judicantes duodecim tribus
Israel,51 that is to say: "Ye that have forsaken all things and
followed me, shall sit on twelve seats, deeming the twelve tribes
of Israel."
They, soothly, that have willful poverty and want in the
meekness and lowliness that Christ teaches are more wretched
than they that have plenty of all riches, nor shall they take the
apostles' place of worthiness in the day of doom; but they shall
be clad with the doublet of confusion, that is, damnation of body
and soul.52 They, soothly, that shine in meekness and lowliness,
though they have mickle riches, yet shall they be set on the right
hand of Christ when he deems.
Some men soothly say, We cannot leave all, we are sick; it
behoves us to keep our necessaries that we may live; and that is
lawful. But they are the less worthy, for they dare not suffer
anguish, poverty, and neediness for God. Yet by the grace of
God they may come to the height of virtue, and lift themselves
to the contemplation of heavenly things, if they forsake secular
occupations and errands, and unwearily rise to meditate and
pray; and hold not the goods they have with full love, but hav-
ing them, forsake them.
45 Matt. 11129. 46 Oppressed. 47 World.
50
48 Pleasure. 49 Matt. 19:23. Promised.
5i Matt. 19:28. 52 p s . I 0 8 (109):i8.
Take heed also: to seek more than enough is foul covetous-
ness; to keep back necessaries is frailty; but to forsake all things
is perfectness. Therefore whiles they see high things that they
cannot reach, they empride not nor presume because of the
small things that they have, so that they may mannerly 53
ascend to the ordering of man's life: of which now follows.
Chapter IV
Of the Setting of Marts Life
So that a man may be righteously dressed54 to the worship of
God and to his own profit and the profit of his neighbor, four
things are to be said:
First: What is it that defiles a man? 55 There are three sins, or
three kinds of sin; that is to say, of thought, of mouth, and of
work. A man sins in thought when he thinks aught against God;
if he occupies his heart not with the praise and loving of God;
but suffers it [to be abstracted or stirred] with divers thoughts,
and to go void in the world. In mouth he sins when he lies; when
he forswears; when he curses; when he backbites; when he de-
fends a wrong; when he uses fond speech, or foul speech; or
brings forth vain things or idle. In deed he sins manywise: by
lechery; touching sinfully, or kissing; defiling himself willfully;
or, without great cause, procuring or sustaining occasions by
which he trows he might be defiled; in robbing; stealing; beguil-
ing; smiting; and other such.
Secondly: Which are they that cleanse a man? And they are
three, against the three aforesaid, that is to say: Contrition of
thought and pulling out of desires that belong not to the praise or
worship of God and love of him. Confession of mouth, that ought
to be timely, bare, 56 and whole. Satisfaction of deed, that has three
parts, that is to say: Fasting because he has sinned against him-
self; prayer because he has sinned against God; alms because he
has sinned against his neighbor. Yet I say not he should do alms
of other men's goods, but he should restore; for sin is not for-
given unless that that is withdrawn be restored.
Third: Which things keep cleanness of heart? And they are
three: quick57 thought of God, that there be no time in which
thou thinkest not of God except in sleep that is common to all;
53 54
Properly, i.e., in order. Directed.
55 See The Form of Perfect Living, ch. 6, for t h e following treatment.
56 Entire. 57 Lively.
busy keeping of thine outward wits that, tasting, savoring, hear-
ing, and seeing, they may wisely be restrained under the bridle
of governance. [The third is honest occupation, as reading of
Holy Writ, speaking of God, writing, or some other good deed
doing.]
There are three things also that save58 cleanness of mouth:
avisedness of speech; to eschew mickle speech; and to hate lying.
Also three things keep cleanness of working: moderation in
meat; fleeing ill company; and oft to mind of death.
The fourth: Which things are they that allure us to conform us
to God's will? And there are three. First, the example of crea-
tures, that is had by consideration; the goodliness of God, that
is gotten by meditation and prayer; and mirth of the Heavenly
Kingdom, that is felt in a manner by contemplation.
The man of God set to live in this wise shall be as a tree that
is set by running waters59—that is the flowing of grace—so that
he shall always be green in virtue and never be dry by sin; and
shall give fruit in time; that is, he shall give good works as an
example, and good words to the worship of God, and these he
shall not sell for vainglory. He says "in time" against them that
give example of fasting in time of eating, and the reverse way
also; and against covetous men that give their fruit when it is
rotten; or else they give not until they die.
Therefore he prays wisely who says: Bonitatem et disciplinam et
scientiam doce me,60 that is to say: "Goodliness,61 discipline, and
knowledge teach me." What is discipline but the setting of, or
correcting of, manners? First therefore we are taught righteous-
ness, and corrected of ill, by discipline; and after that we know
what we should do, or what we should eschew. At the last we
savor not fleshly things, but everlasting, heavenly, and godly.62
And when a man with all busyness has dressed himself to the
will of his Maker and grown in virtue, and has passed another
that peradventure went before in steadfastness of living and de-
sire of Christ, he ought not thereof to joy, nor give praise to
himself, nor trow himself better than others—although they be
low—but rather hold himself as the foulest and most wretched.
He shall deem no man but himself, and all others set before him-
self; he shall not desire to be called holy of men, but worthy to
be despised. When he comes amongst men, he should procure
to be last in number and least in opinion; for the greater thou
art the more shouldest thou meek thyself in all things [and then
58 Preserve. 59 p s . i : 3 . 60 p s . 118 (119) :66.
62
6i Goodness or kindness. Col. 3:2.
thou shalt find grace before God to be made high]. 63 For the
might of God is great, and honored by the meek; therefore it is
despised by the proud, for they seek their own joy, not God's
worship.
Truly, if thou takest with gladness the favor of the people and
[the honor of men that is done to thee for thy holiness and good]
fame in this life, know it well thou hast received thy meed. And
if thou seemest marvelous in penance and chastity whiles thou
joyest more in man's joy than in angel's, in the time to come
nought but tormentry shall be for thee. Therefore thou oughtest
perfectly to despise thyself, and entirely to forsake all joy of this
world, and to think nor do nothing but in the sight of God's love,
that all thy life, inward and outward, may cry the praise of God.
In meat and drink be thou scarce and wise. Whiles thou
eatest or drinkest let not the memory of thy God that feeds thee
pass from thy mind; but praise, bless, and glorify him in ilka
morsel, so that thy heart be more in God's praising than in thy
meat, that thy soul be not parted from God at any hour. Thus
doing, before Christ Jesu thou shalt be worthy a crown, and the
temptations of the fiend, that in meat and drink awaits most
men and beguiles them, thou shalt eschew. Either, soothly, by
unmannerly 64 taking of food they are cast down from the
height of virtue or by too mickle abstinence they break down
that virtue.
Many, truly, there are that always fluctuate in eating, so that
overlittle or overmickle they always take; and the form of living
they never keep whiles they trow that now this, now that, be
better. The unwise and untaught, which have never felt the
sweetness of Christ's love, trow that unwise abstinence be holi-
ness; and they trow they cannot be worthy of great meed anent
God unless they be known as singular of all men by scarceness
and unrighteous abstinence.
But, truly, abstinence by itself is not holiness, but if it be dis-
creet it helps us to be holy. If it be indiscreet it lets holiness, be-
cause it destroys discipline, without which virtues are turned to
vice. If a man would be singular in abstinence he ought to
eschew the sight of men and their praising, that he be not proud
for nought and so lose all: for men truly ween they be holiest
that they see most abstinent, when in truth ofttimes they are the
worst.
He certain that has truly tasted the sweetness of endless love
64
63 Cf. Prov. 25:6-7. Immoderately.
shall never deem himself to pass any man in abstinence, but the
lower he supposes himself in abstinence anent himself, the more
he shall be held marvelous anent men. The best thing, and as I
suppose pleasing to God, is to conform thyself in meat and drink
to the time and place and estate of them with whom thou art;
so that thou seem not to be willful nor a feigner of religion.
Know it truly, without doubt, if one or two think well of him,
yet others will call him an hypocrite or a feigner. But there are
some covetous of vainglory that in no wise will be holden as
common men; for either they eat so little that they always draw
the speech of men to them, or they procure other manner of
meats to be seen diverse from others: whose madness and obsti-
nacy be far from me.
Truly, it is wholesome counsel that they that fast little give
preference to them of greater abstinence, and since they may not
do so great abstinence be sorry in mind. And they that are of
great abstinence should trow others higher in virtue; whose vir-
tue, in which they surpass, is hidden to men, whiles their virtue,
that is to say abstinence, is praised of many. But unless it be
dight with meekness and charity before Christ, it is nought.
Truly, the virtue of others is the more in that it is not seen of
men. Who may know how much love a man has anent God,
how great compassion anent his neighbor? And doubtless the
virtue of charity surpasses without comparison all fasting or
abstinence, and all other works that may be seen; and oft it hap-
pens that he that before men is seen least to fast, within, before
Christ, is most fervent in love.
It behoves him truly to be strong that will manfully use the
love of God. The flesh being enfeebled with great disease, oft-
times a man cannot pray, and then mickle more he cannot lift
himself to high things with hot desire. I would rather therefore
that a man failed for the greatness of love than for too mickle
fasting; as the spouse said of herself: Nunciate dilecto quia amore
langueo;65 that is: "Show thyself to my love, for I long for love."
Be thou therefore steadfast in all thy ways and dress thy life
after the rule shown to thee, and if thou may not get that thou
desirest in the beginning mistrust not, but abide; for by long use
and time thou shalt come to perfection.
If thou be a pilgrim and rest by the way, whatever thou dost
in this life, to God ever have an eye. Let not thy thought go from
him; think that time lost in which thou thinkest not of God. In
65 Cant. 5:8.
15—L.M.M.
the night praise him and desire his love, that sleep may not find
thee in any other wise occupied than praying or thinking of
God. See that thou flow not with vain thoughts, nor give thyself
to many charges, but study to get and hold this steadfastness of
mind so that thou dread not the wretchedness of this world nor
desire the goods thereof unmannerly. He that dreads to suffer
adversity knows not yet how it behoves us to despise the world;
and he that joys in earthly things is far from everlasting things.
To the virtue of strength truly belong all adversities and pros-
perities; and also to despise death for endless life. And charity is
to desire only heavenly things. A perfect lover, forsooth, joys to
die, and suffers life meekly. To which perfection if thou ascend
by the gift of Christ, yet shalt thou not be without tribulation
and temptation: to show which our words shall turn.
Chapter V
Of Tribulation
When the fiend sees one man out of thousands perfectly
turned to God; following the steps of Christ; despising this pres-
ent world; loving and seeking only the things unseen; taking
perfect penance; and purging himself from all filth of mind and
body, he reparels66 a thousand beguilings of annoyance and a
thousand crafts of fighting to cast him from the love of God to
the love of the world, and to fill him again with the filth of sin,
so that at the least with lecherous thoughts he should be made
hateful to God. He raises against him persecution, tribulation,
slander, false blame for sins, and all kinds of hatred; so that
pain may slay and break him that prosperity could not beguile.
Now sharpness, now cherishing, he puts before him, and he
brings to mind images of bodily things; he gathers together fan-
tasies of sin; he gaincalls old shrewdness and delights of past
love; he inflames heart and flesh with lecherous fire. He begins
with the least but he comes to the greatest flame of wickedness.
And with as great busyness he studies to blow against us all
kinds of temptation, tormentry, and tribulation, as he sorrows
that we, by the mercy of God, have escaped from his cheeks.
He gets67 nothing but that he might depart us from the un-
bodily embrace, sweetest and most chaste, of everlasting love,
and eft68 defile us in the pit of wretchedness. That were more
wretched for us than I can tell.
66 Contrives or devises. 67 Seeks. 68 Afterward.
Who can think his madness that from the delicacies of kings
would come down to swine's meat? And yet is he more mad that
forsakes the delicious meat of unwrought wisdom and puts him-
self under the filth of the flesh. Is not gluttony and lechery
swinish filth, and they that do such, feed they not fiends?
Therefore how we must do against the tribulation and
temptations of our enemies, and how to gainstand, shall
patience teach us; of which now we will speak.
Chapter VI
Of Patience
The children of God disdain to come down to the meat of un-
reasonable beasts, but truly they despise all unlawful lusts and
worldly solace for the love of Christ. He, truly, that is fed with
the bread that comes from heaven69 inclines not his desire to
those things that are moved by the devil. When temptations
arise or tribulation, ghostly armor is to be taken and it is time
to go to battle.
Temptations truly are overcome with steadfastness of faith
and love; tribulation truly with patience. What is patience but
goodly and willful suffering of adversity? He therefore that is
patient murmurs in no grief, but rather at all times with the
prophet praises God.70 The more patient a man is in his noys the
more glorious shall he be in heaven.
Gladly therefore are tribulations to be suffered in adversity,
noys, and bitterness, pains and sickness and thirst; for by these
and such other our sins are cleansed and meeds increased.
Truly, it either behoves us in this life [to be burned with the fire
of God's love and of tribulation, or else after this life] with the
fire of purgatory or hell to be most bitterly crucified and
punished. Choose therefore; we shall not escape the one. Here,
truly, with little pain—yea, with joy if we cleave to God—we
may eschew all pain to come.
Therefore tribulations are sent to us to call us from the love
of the world, that we be not punished more grievously in the
other life. With sorrow truly it behoves us to be cleansed of that
ill we did in lust. If sinners build upon our backs,71 they noy us
not, if we suffer it patiently, but themselves; for if they put us to
a little pain, for us they work a crown, but for themselves tor-
mentry.
69 John 6:53-58. 70 p s . 3 4 ( 35 ) : 2 8. 7i p s . 128 (129) 13.
The sinful, truly, are suffered to pass this life withouten great
tribulations; for in the time to come no joy is kept for them.
Therefore holy men love tribulations, for they wot by them to
win to endless life. Contrarily, the rejected always murmur in
adversity, and flee all that they can; for whiles they are given
too mickle to seen things, they are deprived of the hope of things
everlasting. In outward things only they find solace, because
they have fully lost the savor of heavenly.
There is no reasonable soul here abiding but she loves either
creatures or the Maker of creatures. If she loves creatures, she
loses God and goes, with the good loved, to death. Truly, such
love in the beginning is labor and fondness; in the middle lan-
guor and wretchedness; and in the end hatred and pain.
He, soothly, that loves his Maker forsakes omnia quae that is
in the world, and he thinks it full sweet of Him and with Him to
speak; his refreshment is to think on Him. He spars72 his out-
ward wits that death ascend not by the windows73; and that he
be not unprofitably occupied in vanity. And sometimes despis-
ings, reproofs, scorns, and slanders are raised against him, and
therefore it is needful to take the shield of patience and be
readier to forget wrongs than to know them. He shall pray for
their turning that hate him and cast him down, and shall care
not to please man, but dread to offend God.
If thou be tempted in the flesh, make it subject, that the spirit
be not overcome. Temptation, truly, that we consent not to is
a matter for using74 virtue. For no man wots whether he be
weak or strong until the time he be assayed. Likewise in peace
no man is called patient but when he is pulled with wrong; then
he should see if he have patience. Many seem patient when they
are not pricked, but when a soft blast—I say not of wrong but
of correction—touches them, anon their mind turns to bitter-
ness and wrath; and if they hear one word against their will,
they give again two more ungodly: into whose counsel my soul
comes not.
Therefore the darts of our enemy are to be slakened with the
meekness and sweetness of Christ's love; nor is stead75 to be
given to temptation, although it be grievous. For the greater
battle the worthier victory and higher crown, as says the psalm:
Beatus vir qui suffert tentationem, quoniam cum probatus fuerit accipiet
coronam vitae,16 etc.; that is to say: "Blest be the man that suffers
72 Bolts, fastens. 73 Gf. Jer. 9:21. 74 Exercising.

75 Place. 76 James 1:12.
temptation, for when he is proved, a crown of life he shall receive
that God behested to his lovers."
Doubt not that thou art in the perfect life if despising be to
thee as praising, poverty as riches, hunger as meat; so that thou
sufferest them with even soul, and if thou fall in nought from
height of mind. Flee and hate as mickle as thou canst the praise
of man; for it is most praiseworthy to be worthy of praising and
not to be praised of men. The tongues of flatterers beguile many,
and also the tongues of backbiters destroy many. Despise thou
therefore favor, worship, and all vainglory; suffer meekly
wraths, hatreds, and detractions; and so by slander and good
fame, by tribulations and anger,77 cease not to make haste to
the Heavenly Kingdoms.
Ofttimes we fall so that, taught by many chances, we should
stand more strongly. The strong dread not, nor are the patient
heavy, in adversity, as it is written: Non tristabit justum quicquid ei
accident,™ "Whatever happens to the righteous man it shall not
heavy him." Thus disposed, no marvel thou shalt overcome all
temptation and slake all malice; thou shalt see thy noyers more
wretched than thee, and with all thy mind thou shalt cleave to
Christ.
Chapter VII
Of Prayer
If thou be set in temptation or tribulation, to prayer anon
run. Truly, if thou prayest clearly, thou shalt have help.79 Dis-
tractions sometimes come and waverings of heart, and thoughts
of divers things ravish the heart and suffer it not to stand in the
praising of God. Then peradventure it were good a while to
think of holiness, until the mind is more stabled, and so thy
prayers are fulfilled.
Truly, if any have left all wordly occupations for the love of
God, and always are given to holy prayer and holy meditation,
I trow that by God's grace within a short space they shall find
their heart is stabled to love and pray. They should not waver
now to this and now to that, but rather abide in rest and endless
peace. Full mickle it comforts80 to get stableness of heart to be
busy in frequent prayers, and devoutly to sing psalms. With
busy prayers truly we overcome fiends, and we loosen their
waitings and stirrings. They are enfeebled and as it were
77 M o r e probably "flattery," according to t h e better readings.
80
78 Prov, I2:si, 79 James 5:15. Strengthens,
23O RICHARD ROLLE! HERMIT OF HAMPOLE
without strength, whiles we, strong and not overcome, bide in
prayer.
Truly those men that have it in custom with long exercise to
pray, sometimes find more sweetness and more fervent desire of
prayer. Therefore whiles that sweetness and heat last it is good
not to cease from prayers. When they cease—that often happens
because of the corruptible flesh—they may turn to read Holy
Scripture, or do some other profitable thing, that they suffer not
their thought to waver from God, so that when they rise to pray
again they may be quicker than they were before.
Truly, then, we pray well when we think of no other thing,
but all our mind is dressed to heaven and our soul is enflamed
with the fire of the Holy Ghost. Thus truly a marvelous plen-
teousness of God's goodness is found in us; for from the inner-
most marrow of our hearts shall the love of God rise, and all our
prayer shall be with desire and effect; so that we overrun not the
words, but nearly every syllable with a great cry and desire we
shall offer to our Lord. Our heart being kindled with hot fire,
our prayer is also kindled, and in the savor of sweetness is offered
by our mouth in the sight of God, so that it is great joy to pray.
For whiles in prayer a marvelous sweetness is given to the one
praying, the prayer is changed to song.
Here some are reproved that rather take heed to meditation
than to prayer, not knowing that God's speech is fired; and with
it the filth of sin is cleansed, and the minds of prayers are en-
flamed with love. They say that they will first meditate and so
stable their hearts; but they are stabled the later in that they are
not comforted by prayer.
Although we cannot gather our hearts together as we would,
yet may we not leave off, but little by little we should study to
grow in prayer, that at the last Jesu Christ may stable us. To
which meditation helps if it pass not measure and manner.
Chapter VIII
Of Meditation
The meditation of Christ's Passion and his death is good; and
oft to recall what pain and wretchedness he freely took for our
health in going about and preaching, in hunger, thirst, cold,
heat, reproaches, cursings, and sufferings; so that it be not
grievous to an unprofitable servant to follow his Lord and
Emperor.
THE MEN&ING OF LIFE $31
He truly that says he dwells in Christ ought to walk as He
did.81 Christ says truly by Jeremy: "Have mind of my poverty
and of my passage, of wormwood and gall" 82 ; that is to say,
of sorrow and bitterness, by which I went from the world to the
Father.
Truly this mindfulness or meditation overcomes the fiend and
destroys his gins83; it slakes fleshly temptation and kindles the
soul to Christ's love; it raises and cleanses, and also purges the
mind. I trow this meditation is most profitable of all others to
them that are newly turned to Christ. For there truly is shown
the manhood84 of Jesu Christ, in the which man should be re-
peatedly glad; in which he has matter for joy and also mourning.
Joy for the sickerness of our gainbuying; heaviness for the filth
of our sinning, on account of which it is to be grieved for that so
worthy an offering is offered. For the boisterous and fleshly soul
is not ravished into the contemplation of the Godhead unless all
fleshly lettings be wasted away by ghostly [meditation and con-
templation of the manhood].
Truly when a man begins to have a clean heart, and no
image of bodily things can beguile him, then sickerly he is ad-
mitted to high things, that in love of [the Godhead] he may be
wonderfully made glad. Some think truly on the joy of the
blessed angels and holy souls joying with Christ; and this thought
belongs to contemplation. Some think on the wretchedness of
man's condition and his filth, and they dispute in their thoughts
about man's folly that for the vanities of this life forgets the joys
unseen. Others thus dispose their thoughts: that they will noth-
ing but the praise and desire of their Maker, so that they love
him as much as is possible for men in this life. To this medita-
tion no man comes but he that is mickle used in these things be-
fore rehearsed. For truly it is a more excellent manner than
others and makes a man most contemplative.
Therefore as the works and uses of saints are divers, so are
their meditations divers. Yet all, because they come of one
spring, go to one end, and they come or lead to one bliss; but by
divers ways, through the one charity, that is more in one than
another. Therefore the psalm says: Deduxit me super semitas justi-
tiae;*5 that is, "He has led me upon the paths of righteousness";
as if to say, there is one righteousness and many paths by which
we are led to the joy of the life everlasting; because whiles all are
one in being, they are of divers needs, and in one righteousness
si I John 2:6. 82 Lam. 3:19. 83 Crafts.
84 One MS. reads humilitas, another, humanitas. 85 p s . 22 (23) 13.
232 RICHARD ROLLE! HERMIT OF HAMPOLE
they are led to God by divers paths. Some go by a low path,
some by a mean, 86 and some by a high. The higher path is
given to him that is ordained from eternity to love Christ more,
not because he works more than others, or gives more or suffers
more, but because he loves more. Which love is heat and sweet-
ness, and it seeks rest in all men.
No man may set himself in any of these paths; but he takes to
that which God chose him. Sometimes they that seem in the
higher are in the lower, and the reverse; for that is only inward
in soul before God, not in anything that may be done outward
of man. According to the disposition and desire of their medita-
tion they are dressed to this path or to that. By outward works
no man may be known who is more or who less before God.
Therefore it is folly to deem of the chosen and say: he passes
him; or, his merits are far below the meeds of this one, when
plainly they know not their minds; the which if they knew they
might lawfully deem.
Therefore truly God wills it to be secret from all creatures,
that they despise not some too mickle, or honor some too
mickle. For doubtless if they saw men's hearts, many that they
honor they would despise as stinking and foul, and others that
they set not by, nor yet desire to see, they would honor as most
lovely, and as the holy angels.
Good thoughts also and meditations of the elect [be of God],
and such by his grace he sheds forth to each one as best accords
to their state and condition. Therefore I can tell thee my medi-
tations, but which is most effectual for thee I cannot opine, for I
see not thy inward desires. I trow truly that those meditations
in thee most please God and most profit thee that God by his
mercy sheds in thee.
Nevertheless in the beginning thou mayest have the words of
other men; that I know well by myself. Truly if thou despise the
teachings of doctors and trow that thyself mayest find something
better than they teach thee in their writings, know forsooth that
thou shalt not taste Christ's love. For truly it is a fond saying:
"God taught them; why, therefore, shall he not teach me?" I
answer thee: Because thou art not such as they were. Thou art
proud and sturdy, and they were lowly and meek; and they
asked nothing of God presuming but, meeking themselves under
all, took knowledge from the saints. He taught them therefore so
that we should be taught in their books.
86 Middle.
If truly thou now desirest the love of Christ in thy medita-
tions, or to resound his praises—as meseems—-thou art well dis-
posed. But the thoughts in which thou feelest more sweetness in
God profit thee more. To meditate well without sweetness profits
thee little, except in that case when the need for sweetness is not
felt.
Chapter IX
Of Reading
If thou desire to come to the love of God, and be kindled in
thy desire for heavenly joys, and be brought to the despising of
earthly things, be not negligent in meditating and reading Holy
Scripture; and most in those places where it teaches manners,
and to eschew the deceits of the fiend, and where it speaks
of God's love, and of contemplative life. Hard sayings may be
left to disputers and to wise men used for a long time in holy
doctrine.
It helps us truly mickle to profit in good. By this we know our
defaults and good deeds; in which things we sin, and in which
not; what we should do, and what forbear; and the most subtle
deceits of our enemies are opened to us. They kindle to love, and
prick to weeping. If we have delight in them as it were in all
riches, they prepare us a table of delights.87
But let not covetousness of the honor or favor or praise of men
kindle us to knowledge of Scripture, but only the intent to
please God; that we may know how we should loye him, and
teach our neighbor the same. We ought not-to be holden wise
anent the people but rather hide our knowledge than show it so
as to be praised, as it is said: In corde meo abscondi eloquia tua, ut non
peccem tibi,ss that is: "In my heart I hid thy words, that I sin not
toward thee," in void or vain showing.
Therefore the cause of our speaking should be only the praise
of God and the edification of our neighbor, that it may be ful-
filled in us: Semper laus ejus in ore meo.*9 "Alway his praise be in
my mouth," and that is, when we seek not our own honor and
we speak not against his praise.
Chapter X
Of Cleanness of Mind
By these nine degrees before touched upon man comes to
87 Cf. Ps. 22 (23):s. 88ps. n8 (ii9):n. 89 Ps. 33:2(34:1).
234 RIGHARD R O L L E : HERMIT OF HAMPOLE
cleanness of mind, where God is seen. Cleanness, I say, that may
be had in this life. How may perfect cleanness be gotten here
where so oft man, with venial sins at least, is defiled? The
feet of saints are to be washed for they draw the dust of the
earth.
Who may truly say, "I am clean from sin"? Truly none in this
life; for as J o b says: Si lotus fuero aquis nivis, et effulserint velut mun-
ditiae manus meae, tamen sordibus intinges me, et abominabuntur me
vestimenta mea;90 that is to say: "If I be washed with snow
water," that means true penance, "and if my hands shine with
cleanness," because of works of innocence, "yet shalt thou touch
me with filth," because of venial sins that can not be eschewed;
"and my clothes shall abhor me," that is to say, my flesh makes
me abhor myself; and sensuality that is so frail, slippery, and
ready to love the liking beauty of this world, ofttimes makes me
sin. Therefore the apostle says: Non regnetpeccatum in nostro mor-
tali corpore.91 "Sin reigns not in our mortal body," as who should
say: Sin may un-reign in us, but it may not un-be.
What cleanness therefore can man have in this life? Truly
worthy and great if he rightly use himself in the study of read-
ing, prayer, and meditation, as it is before noted. Truly,
although he sometimes sin venially, yet forthwith, because his
whole mind is dressed to God, it is destroyed. The heat truly of
charity wastes in him all rust of sin, as it were a drop of water
put into a great fire.
The virtue therefore of a cleansed soul is to have the mind
busy to God, for in this degree all the thought is dressed to
Christ; all the mind, although he seems to speak to others, is
spread unto him. Truly in a clean conscience nothing is bitter,
sharp, or hard, but all is sweet and lovely. Out of cleanness of
heart rises a song of joy, sweet ditty and joyful mirth. Then full
oft a wonderful joy of God is given, and heavenly song is inshed.
In this state a man may know that he is in charity that he shall
never lose; he lives not without great dread—not lest he should
suffer tormentry, but that he offend not his Lover.
I spare to say more here for I seem to myself a full great
wretch. For oft my flesh is noyed and assayed. Although for-
sooth the love of God and contemplative life is contained in these
things beforesaid, yet somewhat of them is more specially to be
said to your need and profit.
90 91
Job 9:30-31. Rom. 6:12.
Chapter XI
Of the Love of God
O sweet and delectable light that is my Maker unmade; en-
lighten the face and sharpness of my inward eye with clearness
unmade, that my mind, pithily cleansed from uncleanness and
made marvelous with gifts, may swiftly flee into the high mirth
of love; and kindled with thy savor I may sit and rest, joying in
thee, Jesu. 92 And going as it were ravished in heavenly sweet-
ness, and made stable in the beholding of things unseen, never,
save by godly things, shall I be gladdened.
O Love everlasting, enflame my soul to love God, so that noth-
ing may burn in me but his halsings.93 O good Jesu, who shall
grant me to feel thee that now may neither be felt nor seen?
Shed thyself into the entrails of my soul. Come into my heart
and fill it with thy clearest sweetness. Moisten my mind with the
hot wine of thy sweet love, that forgetful of all ills and all scorn-
ful visions and imaginations, and only having thee, I may be
glad and joy in Jesu my God. Henceforward, sweetest Lord, go
not from me, continually biding with me in thy sweetness; for
thy presence only is solace to me, and thy absence only leaves
me heavy.
O Holy Ghost that givest grace where thou wilt, come into
me and ravish me to thee; change the nature that thou hast
made with thy honeyed gifts, that my soul, fulfilled with thy
liking joy, may despise and cast away all things in this world.
Ghostly gifts she may take of thee, the Giver, and going by
songful joy into undescried94 light she may be all melted in
holy love. Burn my reins and my heart with thy fire that on
thine altar shall endlessly burn.
O sweet and true Joy, I pray thee come! Come, O sweet and
most desired! Come my Love, that art all my comfort! Glide
down into a soul longing for thee and after thee with sweet heat.
Kindle with thy heat the wholeness of my heart. With thy light
enlighten my inmost parts. Feed me with honeyed songs of love,
as far I may receive them by my powers of body and soul.
In these, and such other meditations be glad, that so thou
mayest come to the pith of love. Love truly suffers not a loving
soul to bide in itself, but ravishes it out to the Lover; so that the
92 Cf. Of the Virtues of the Holy Name of Jesus, in Heseltine, Selected Works,
p p . 81 ff.; also Of Delight in God and Ghostly Gladness, in Heseltine, op. cit.9
pp. 104-06. 94
93 Embraces. M S . Bg.: incircumscriptum.
soul is more there where it loves than where the body is that by
it lives and feels.
There are soothly three degrees of Christ's love, by one or an-
other of which he that is chosen to love profits. The first is
called, unable to be overcome; the second, unable to be parted;
the third is called singular.95
Then truly is love unovercomable when it cannot be overcome
by any other desire. When it casts away lettings, and slakes all
temptations and fleshly desires; and when it patiently suffers
all griefs for Christ, and is overcome by no flattery nor delight.
All labor is light to a lover, nor can a man better overcome
labor than by love.
Love truly is undeparted when the mind is kindled with great
love, and cleaves to Christ with undeparted thought. Forsooth
it suffers Him not to pass from the mind a minute, but as if he
were bound in heart to Him it thinks and sighs after Him, and it
cries to be holden with His love that He may loose him from the
fetters of mortality, and may lead him to Him whom only he
desires to see. And most this name "Jesu" he in so mickle wor-
ships and loves that it continually rests in his mind.
When, therefore, the love of Christ is set so mickle in the heart
of God's lover and the world's despiser that it may not be over-
come by other desire of love, it is called high. But when he holds
undepartedly to Christ, ever thinking of Christ, by no occasion
forgetting him, it is called everlasting and undeparted. And if this
be high and everlasting, what love can be higher or more?
Yet there is the third degree which is called singular. It is one
thing to be high, and another to be alone; as it is one thing to be
ever presiding,96 and another to have no fellow. Truly, we may
have many fellows and yet have a place before all.
Truly, if thou seekest or receivest any comfort other than of
thy God, and if peradventure thou lovest the highest, yet it is
not singular. Thou seest therefore to what the greatness of
worthiness must increase, that when thou art high thou mayest
be alone. Therefore love ascends to the singular degree when it
excludes all comfort but the one that is in Jesu; when nothing
but Jesu may suffice it.
The soul set in this degree loves Him alone; she yearns only for
Christ, and Christ desires; only in his desire she abides, and
after him she sighs; in him she burns; she rests in his warmth.
95
See the Form, ch. 8, where the classification is "Insuperable," "Insepa-
r a b l e , " a n d "Singular."
96 M S . G: to be present.
Nothing is sweet to her, nothing she savors, except it be made
sweet in Jesu; whose memory is as a song of music in a feast of
wine. Whatever the self offers to her (besides) it or comes into
mind, is straightway cast back and suddenly despised if it serve
not his desire or accord not with his will. She suppresses all cus-
toms that she sees serve not to the love of Christ. Whatever she
does seems unprofitable and intolerable unless it runs and leads
to Christ, the End of her desire. When she can love Christ she
trows she has all things that she wills to have, and withouten
him all things are abhorrent to her and wax foul. But because
she trows to love him endlessly she steadfastly abides, and
wearies not in body nor heart but loves perseveringly and suffers
all things gladly. And the more she thus lives in him the more
she is kindled in love, and the liker she is to him.
No marvel loneliness accords with such a one that grants no
fellow among men. For the more he is ravished inwardly by
joys, the less is he occupied in outward things; nor is he let by
heaviness or the cares of this life. And now it seems as if the soul
were unable to suffer pain, so that not being let by anguish, she
ever joys in God.
O my soul, cease from the love of this world and melt in
Christ's love, that always it may be sweet to thee to speak, read,
write, and think of him; to pray to him and ever to praise him.
0 God, my soul, to thee devoted, desires to see thee! She cries to
thee from afar. She burns in thee and languishes in thy love. O
Love that fails not, thou hast overcome me! O everlasting
Sweetness and Fairness, thou hast wounded my heart, and now
overcome and wounded I fall. For joy scarcely I live, and nearly
1 die; for I may not suffer the sweetness of so great a Majesty in
this flesh that shall rot.
All my heart truly, fastened in desire for Jesu, is turned into
heat of love, and it is swallowed into another joy and another
form. Therefore, O good Jesu, have mercy upon a wretch. Show
thyself to me that longs; give medicine to my hurt. I feel myself
not sick, but languishing in thy love. He that loves thee not
altogether loses all; he that follows thee not is mad. Meanwhile
therefore be thou my Joy, my Love, and Desire, until I may see
thee, O God of Gods, in Syon.
Charity truly is the noblest of virtues, the most excellent and
sweetest, that joins the Beloved to the lover, and everlastingly
couples Christ with the chosen soul. It re-forms in us the image
of the high Trinity, and makes the creature most like to the
Maker.
O gift of love, what is it worth before all other things, that
challenges97 the highest degree with the angels! Truly the more
of love a man receives in this life, the greater and higher in
heaven shall he be. O singular joy of everlasting love that
ravishes all His to the heavens above all worldly things, binding
them with the bands of virtue!
O dear charity, he is not wrought on earth that—whatever
else he may have—has not thee. He truly that is busy to joy in
thee is forthwith lift above earthly things. Thou enterest boldly
the bedchamber of the Everlasting King. Thou only art not
ashamed to receive Christ. He it is that thou hast sought and
loved. Christ is thine: hold him, for he cannot but receive thee,
whom only thou desirest to obey. For withouten thee plainly no
work pleases him. Thou makest all things savory. Thou art a
heavenly seat; angels' fellowship; a marvelous holiness; a bliss-
ful sight; and life that lasts endlessly.
O holy charity, how sweet thou art and comfortable; that re-
makest that that was broken! The fallen thou restorest; the bond
thou deliverest; man thou makest even with angels. Thou raisest
up those sitting and resting, and the raised thou makest sweet.
In this degree or state of love is love chaste, holy, and will-
ful:98 loving what is loved for the self, not for goods, and fas-
tening itself altogether on that that is loved. Seeking nothing
outward, pleased99 with itself: ardent, sweet-smelling, heartily
binding love to itself in a marvelously surpassing manner. In the
loved one joying [all other things despising and forgetting];
thinking without forgetfulness; ascending in desire; falling in his
love; going on in halsing; overcome by kissing; altogether mol-
ten in the fire of love.
Thus truly Christ's lover keeps no order in his loving nor
covets no degree,1 because however fervent and joyful he be in
the love of God in this life, yet he thinks to love God more and
more. Yea, though he might live here evermore yet he should
not trow at any time to stand still and not progress in love, but
rather the longer he shall live the more he should burn in love.
God truly is of infinite greatness, better than we can think;
of unreckoned sweetness; inconceivable of all natures wrought;
and can never be comprehended by us as he is in himself in
eternity. But now, when the mind begins to burn in the desire
for its Maker, she is made able to receive the unwrought light,
and so inspired and fulfilled by the gifts of the Holy Ghost—as
97 Claims. ** Voluntary. 99 Content. 1 Rank.

far as is lawful to mortals—she has heavenly joy. [Then she
overpasseth] all things seen, and is raised up in height of mind
to the sweetness of everlasting life. And whiles the soul is spread
with the sweetness of the Godhead and the warmness of Creat-
ing Light, she is offered in sacrifice to the everlasting King, and
being accepted is all burned up.
O merry love, strong, ravishing, burning, willful, stalwart,
unslakened, that brings all my soul to thy service, and suffers it
to think of nothing but thee! Thou challengest for thyself all that
we live; all that we savor; all that we are. 2
Thus therefore let Christ be the beginning of our love, whom
we love for himself. And so we love whatever is to be loved
ordinately for him that is the Well of love, and in whose hands
we put all that we love and are loved by. Here soothly is perfect
love shown: when all the intent of the mind, all the privy work-
ing of the heart, is lift up into God's love; so that the might and
mirth of true love be so mickle that no worldly joy, nor fleshly
merchandise, be lawful nor liking.
O love undeparted! O love singular! Although there were no
torments for the wicked, nor no meed in heaven should be
trowed [for chosen souls], yet shouldst thou never the sooner
loose thee from thy Love. More tolerable it were to thee to
suffer an untrowed grief than once to sin deadly. Therefore
truly thou lovest God for himself and for no other thing, nor
thyself except for God; and thereof it follows that nothing but
God is loved in thee. How else should God be all in ilk thing, if
there be any love of man in a man?
O clear charity, come into me and take me into thee and so
present me before my Maker! Thou art savor well tasting;
sweetness well smelling, and pleasant odor; a cleansing heat and
a comfort endlessly lasting. Thou makest men contemplative;
heaven's gate thou openest; the mouths of accusers thou spar-
rest; thou makest God be seen and thou hidest a multitude of
sins. We praise thee, we preach thee, by the which we overcome
the world; by whom we joy and ascend the heavenly ladder. In
thy sweetness glide into me: and I commend me and mine unto
thee withouten end.
Chapter XII
Of Contemplation
Contemplative life or contemplation has three parts: reading,
2 Cf. Rom. 14:8.
24O RICHARD ROLLE: HERMIT OF HAMPOLE
prayer, and meditation. In reading God speaks to us; in prayer
we speak to God. In meditation angels come down to us and
teach us that we err not; in prayer they go up and offer our
prayers to God, joying in our profit; that are messengers
betwixt God and us.
Prayer certain is a meek desire of the mind dressed in God,
with which, when it comes to him, he is pleased. Meditation on
God and godly things, in which is the halsing of Rachel, is to be
taken after prayer and reading.
To reading belongs reason or the inquisition of truth, that is
as a goodly light marked upon us. To prayer belongs praise,
song, surpassing in beholding, and marvel; and thus contem-
plative life or contemplation stands in prayer. To meditation
belongs the inspiration of God, understanding wisdom, and
sighing.
If it be asked what is contemplation, it is hard to define. Some
say that contemplative life is nought else but knowledge of things
to come and hidden; or to be void of all worldly occupation; or
the study of God's letters. Others say that contemplation is the
free sight into the visioned truths of wisdom, lift up with full
high marvel. Others say that contemplation is a free and wise
insight of the soul all spread about to behold His might. Others
say, and say well, that contemplation is joy in heavenly things.
Others say, and say best, that contemplation is the death of
fleshly desires through the joy of the mind upraised.
To me it seems that contemplation is the joyful song of God's
love taken into the mind, with the sweetness of angels' praise.
This is the jubilation that is the end of perfect prayer and high
devotion in this life. This is the ghostly mirth had in mind for
the Everlasting Lover, with great voice outbreaking. This is the
last and most perfect deed of all deeds in this life. Therefore the
psalmist says: Beatus vir qui scit jubilationem,3 that is to say, "Blest
be the man that knows jubilation," in contemplation of God.
Truly none alien to God can joy in Jesu, nor taste the sweetness
of his love. But if he desire to be ever kindled with the fire of
everlasting love, in patience, meekness, and [gentle] manner,
and to be made fair with all cleanness of body and soul and
dight with ghostly ointments, he is lift up into contemplation.
Let him unceasingly seek healthful virtues, by which in this life
we are cleansed from the wretchedness of sins, and in another
life, free from all pain, we joy endlessly in the blessed life; yet in
3 Ps. 88:16 (89:15).

this exile he thus shall be worthy to feel the joyful mirth of God's
love.
Therefore be not slow to chastise thyself with prayer and wak-
ing, and use holy meditations; for doubtless with these ghostly
labors, and with heaviness and weeping from inward repenting,
the love of Christ is kindled in thee, and all virtue and gifts of
the Holy Ghost are shed into thy heart. Begin, therefore, by will-
ful poverty, so that whiles thou desirest nought in this world,
before God and man thou livest soberly, chastely, and meekly.
To have nothing is sometime of need, but to will that you may
have nought is of great virtue. We may have mickle desires [and
yet will to have right nought, when we hold that we have to our
need and not to our lust. Right as he sometime that hath nought
coveteth to have many things; right so he that seemeth to have
many things hath right nought, for that that he hath he loveth it
not, save only for his bodily need].
Truly it behoves the most perfect to take necessaries, else
were he not perfect if he refused to take that whereof he should
live.
This is the manner for perfect men to keep: all worldly goods
for God to despise, and yet to take of the same meat and cloth-
ing; and if this want at any time, not to murmur but to praise
God; and as much as they may to refuse superfluities. The
warmer a man waxes with the heat of everlasting light, the
meeker shall he be in all adversities. He that is truly and not
feignedly meek holds himself worthy of being despised, and
neither by harm nor reproof is provoked to wrath. Wherefore
lowing himself to continual meditation, it is given him to rise to
the contemplation of heavenly things, and the sharpness of his
mind being cleansed as the sickness of the flesh suffers, it is given
him to sing sweetly and burningly with inward joys. And truly
when he goes to seek any outward thing, he goes not with a
proud foot, but only joying in high delights anon with the sweet-
ness of God's love is as it were ravished in trance, and being
ravished is marvelously made glad.
Such, forsooth, is contemplative life if it be taken in due man-
ner. By long use in ghostly works we come to contemplation of
things everlasting. The mind's sight is truly taken up to behold
heavenly things, yet by shadowly sight and in a mirror, not
clearly and openly: whiles we go by faith we see as it were by a
mirror and shadow. Truly if our ghostly eye be busy to that
spiritual light, it may not see that light in itself as it is, and yet it
feels that it is there whiles it holds within the savor and heat of
l6 L.M.M.
242 RICHARD R O L L E ! HERMIT OF HAMPOLE
that light unknown. Whereof in the psalm it is said, Sicut tenebrae
ejus, ita et lumen ejus,4 that is, "And as the darkness thereof, so
the light thereof."
Although truly the darkness of sin be gone from a holy soul,
and murk things and unclean be passed, and the mind be
purged and enlightened, yet whiles it bides in this mortal flesh
that wonderful joy is not perfectly seen. Forsooth, holy and con-
templative men with a clear face behold God.5 That is, either
their wits are opened [for to understand holy writ; or else the
door of heaven is opened unto them]: that is more. As one might
say, all lettings betwixt their mind and God are put back, their
hearts are purged, and they behold the citizens of heaven. Some
truly have received both these.
As we, standing in darkness, see nothing, so in contemplation
that invisibly lightens the soul, no seen light we see. Christ also
makes darkness his resting place,6 and yet speaks to us in a pillar
of a cloud. But that that is felt is full delectable. And in this truly
is love perfect when man, going in the flesh, cannot be glad but
in God, and wills or desires nothing but God or for God. Hereby
it is shown that holiness is not in crying of the heart, or tears, or
outward works, but in the sweetness of perfect charity and
heavenly contemplation. Many truly are molten in tears, and
afterward have turned them to evil; but no man defiles himself
with worldly business after he has truly joyed in everlasting love.
To greet and to sorrow belong to the new-converted, beginners,
and profiters7; but to sing joyfully and to go forth in contem-
plation belongs but to the perfect.
He therefore that has done penance for a long time, whiles he
feels his conscience pricking for default, knows without doubt
that he has not yet done perfect penance. Therefore, in the mean-
time tears shall be as bread to him day and night;8 for unless
he first punish himself with weeping and sighing, he cannot
come to the sweetness of contemplation.
Contemplative sweetness is not gotten but with full great
labor; and with joy untold it is possessed. Forsooth, it is not of
man's merit but God's gift. And yet from the beginning to this
day a man might never be ravished in contemplation of ever-
lasting love unless he before had perfectly forsaken all the vanity
4 p s . 138 (139)112.
5 I.e., "'beholden the ioye of God through revelation,'" according to
MS. D. See Comper, Mending, p. 266, note xci.
6 Cf. Ps. 17:12 (18:11).
7 I.e., those advancing. 8 Ps. 41:4 (42:3).
of the world. Moreover, he ought to be used in healthful medita-
tion and devout prayer before he come truly to the contempla-
tion of heavenly joys.
Contemplation is sweet and desirable labor. It gladdens the
laborer, and hurts not. No man has this but in joying: not when
it comes, but when it goes, he is weary. O good labor to which
mortal men dress them! O noble and marvelous working that
those sitting do most perfectly! It behoves that he take great
rest of body and mind whom the fire of the Holy Ghost truly
enflames.
Many truly know not how to rest in mind, nor yet to put out
void and unprofitable thoughts, and cannot fulfill what is hid-
den in the psalm: Vacate, et videte quoniam ego sum Deus\9 that is
to say: "Be void from worldly vanity and see, for I am God."
Truly the void in body and wavering in heart are not worthy to
taste and see how sweet our Lord is—how sweet the height of
contemplation.
Truly ilk man contemplative10 loves solitariness so that the
more fervently and oftener, in that he is letted of no man, he
may be exercised in his affections.
Then, therefore, it is known that contemplative life is worthier
and fuller of meed than active life.11 And all contemplatives by
the moving of God love solitary life, and because of the sweet-
ness of contemplation are especially fervent in love. It seems that
solitary men raised by the gift of contemplation are high and
touch the highest perfection. Unless it happen there be some in
such state that they have come even with the height of the con-
templative life, and yet they cease not to fulfill the office of the
preacher. They pass these other solitaries—highest in contem-
plation and only given to godly things, not to the needs of their
neighbors—their degrees being like, and for their preaching
they are worthy a crown [that is cleped aureola].12
Truly, a very contemplative man is set toward the light un-
seen with so great desire that ofttimes he is deemed by man as a
fool or unwise; and that is because his mind is enflamed from its
seat with Christ's love. It utterly changes his bodily bearing,
9Ps. 45:11 (46:10).

10
I.e., "Truly each man who is a contemplative. . . . "
11 Cf. Petty, "Social Responsibility," Church History, Vol. 21, no. 1, pp. 10-11
and notes.
12 "The aureol is generally taken by mystical writers to be the reward of those
who have taken the vow of celibacy." Comper, Mending, p. 267, note
xciii.
244 RIGHARD R O L L E : HERMIT OF HAMPOLE
and his body departing also from all earthly works, it makes
God's child as a man out of his mind.
Thus, truly, whiles the soul gathers all the self into endless
mirth of love, withholding herself inwardly she flows not forth
to seek bodily delights. And because she is fed inwardly with
liking pleasure, it is no marvel though she say sighing: "Who
shall give thee me, my brother, that I may find thee without,
and kiss thee?"13 That is to say: Loosed from the flesh I may be
worthy to find thee, and, seeing thee face to face, be joined with
thee withouten end. "And now man despises me." 14
A devout soul given to contemplative life and fulfilled with
love everlasting despises all vainglory of this world, and, joying
only in Jesu, covets to be loosed. For why she is despised by
these that savor and love this world, not heaven, and grievously
languishes in love, and greatly desires with the lovely company
of the angels to be given to the joys that worldly adversity can-
not noy.15
Nothing is more profitable, nothing merrier, than the grace
of contemplation that lifts us from these low things and offers us
to God. What is this grace but the beginning of joy? And what
is the perfection of joy but grace confirmed? In which is kept
for us a joyful happiness and happy joy, a glorious endlessness
and everlasting joy, to live with the saints and dwell with
angels. And that which is above all things: truly to know God;
to love him perfectly; and in the shining of his majesty to see him
and, with a wonderful song of joy and melody, to praise him
endlessly.
To whom be worship and joy, with deeds of thankfulness, in
the world of worlds. Amen.
13 Cant. 8:i.
14
Actually, the R.V. says: "Yea, and none would despise me." Vulgate: et
jam me nemo despiciaU [?] Comper, Mending, p. 242, note 3.
15
Annoy or hurt.
VIII
Henry Suso (c.
INTRODUCTION
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
s USO WAS NOBLY BORN IN CONSTANCE ABOUT I 2 9 5 OR

1300. He became a Dominican novice at thirteen. Ex-
periencing an ecstatic conversion at eighteen years, he un-
derwent a decade of strict ascetic self-discipline. Following
preliminary theological studies, he entered the studium generate
at Cologne between 1324 and 1328. Whether or not he actually
studied under Eckhart, he knew the Meister's teachings well
and defended them ably. Returning to teach in the friary school
at Constance, he was, after some years as lector, made prior,
while the community was in exile, probably in 1343 or 1344.
His service thus began midway in the banishment (1339-1349)
of all but four of the Dominicans from Constance for supporting
a papal interdict. The friars opposed the attempted enforce-
ment by the city council, in 1339, of an imperial edict restoring
services.
From about 1335 or 1340 onward, Suso in a crisis experience
abandoned his ascetic seclusion for a higher school of perfect
Gelassenheit, i.e., "resignation," "abandon," or "joyful endur-
ance and patience in the face of adversity." For isolated teach-
ing and writing he henceforth substituted a life of preaching and
pastoral ministry. This was in widely itinerated services, not
only to Dominicans, but also to Beguine communities and in
association with the Friends of God. Elsbeth Stagel, daughter
of a Zurich councilor, and a nun at Toss, recorded anecdotes of
Suso's career that have made up the kernel of his autobiography,
The Life of the Servant.
Often misunderstood and misjudged in a period of truly re-
nounced service to the larger world, Suso was frequently the vic-
tim of scandalmongering. This probably led to his deposition as
245
246 HENRY SUSO
prior in 1348 and his being sent to Ulm. Tardily found innocent
by a chapter general in 1354, he lived on at Ulm in increasingly
restored good graces and under the favor of the provincial
general until his death in 1366.
A good discussion of Suso and of the literature is to be found
in J. M. Clark, The Great German Mystics, Basil Blackwell, Ox-
ford, 1949. See also the introduction and notes of Clark's trans-
lation of Suso's Little Book of Eternal Wisdom and Little Book of
Truth, Faber and Faber, Ltd., London, 1953. The basic edition
of his works is K. Bihlmeyer, Heinrich Seuse, deutsche Schriften,
Stuttgart, 1907. Other useful bodies of texts are H. S. Denifle,
Deutsche Schriften des seL Heinrich Seuse, Munich, 1876; A. Gabele,
Deutsche Schriften von Heinrich Seuse, Leipzig, 1924; Vceuvre mys-
tique de Henri Suso, with good introduction and translation by
R. P. Benoit Lavaud, 5 vols., Egloff et L. U. F., Paris, 1946; and
Le Bienheureux Henri Suso: CEuvres, tr. by Jeanne Ancelet-Hus-
tache, Aubier, Paris, 1943. The text of Suso's Latin version of
The Little Book of Eternal Wisdom, is by J . Strange, ed., Henrici
Susonis seu fratris Amandi Horologium Sapientiae, Cologne, 1861.
Consult M. de Gandillac, in Melanges, Vol. 3 (1946), pp. 72-82,
on Suso in relation to Tauler, pp. 60 ff. An excellent study of
the "wisdom" motif in relation to "bride" and "bridegroom"
mysticism is J . Biihlmann, Christuslehre und Christusmystik des
Heinrich Seuse,]. Stocker, Lucerne, 1942. Note Wentzlaff-Egge-
bert, Deutsche Mystik, pp. n8ff., and the literature, pp. 309-
311. The relations of Suso to scholastic thought and to Gelassen-
heit are helpfully considered in J. A. Bizet, Henri Suso et le declin
de la scholastique, Aubier, Paris, 1946, and in X. de Hornstein,
Les grands mystiques allemands du xiv* siicle: Eckhart, Tauler, Suso,
Fribourg en Suisse, 1922.
SYNOPSIS
Suso may well be called "the chevalier of wisdom." Domini-
can though he was, he reminds us frequently of the spiritual
knighthood of Francis. Having undergone a spiritual crisis in
his late teens, Suso had also found a gracious lady, Dame Wis-
dom.1 Following the rules of the minnesinger, he gave rigorous
1 This introduction follows closely the main outlines of Gandillac, in
Melanges, Vol. 3, pp. 72 ff.
INTRODUCTION 247
2
proofs of his knightly affection. He set the test in stern austeri-
ties. At the studium generale of Cologne, he made Tauler's 3
acquaintance. He came somewhere under the strong influence
of Eckhart. He was moved by the Meister's scorn for posers of
renunciation who avoid the hard school of the Master of Galilee.
Obvious in his first work, The Little Book of Truth, 1327, is his
awareness of controverted issues raised by the Eckhart affair.
Suso distinguishes carefully the role of genuine despoilment from
that of the Beghard libertines. He knows the humiliations of the
flesh weakened by illness. He is forced to reduce his ascetic
ardors. He is even accused of seducing his spiritual advisees.
Between his transfer to Ulm in 1348—for whatever reasons of
discipline or protection against his foes—and his death in 1366,
a world of transformation took place. The raw recruit of Lady
Wisdom, the defeated knight of the early jousts, somehow gradu-
ated from the school of true renunciation. Preaching, discharg-
ing faithfully the duties of the mixed life, he gave himself in the
Rhineland to a harder life than the one of sheer ascetic rigor.
He found in the school of the Master—Eckhart's and his own—
the veritable encounter with wisdom and glorious self-abandon.
Suffering the more as he accepted more of others' woes, he
finally knew the joy of entering the way of his Lord.
The Horologium sapientiae and its vernacular version, The Little
Book of Eternal Wisdom, when coupled with The Life of the Servant,
provide a rich tapestry of self-inquiry and self-detachment.
They depict true Gelassenheit.4 Suso's autobiography reflects
clearly the mounting awareness that he, like Francis, must do
more than assume the guise of the spirit if he would follow
Christ. Out of the anguish of the world's repudiation and his
own self-indictment, he must find in Christ's school the genu-
inely joyous way of spiritual selflessness. His works give us a
true picture of a genuinely renounced spirit. The Life and The
Little Book of Eternal Wisdom are of paramount importance in
delineating his spiritual pilgrimage. The rarer Sermons and the
Booklets on his active ministry confirm this story.
2
On "wisdom" in its Biblical setting and in relation to the minnesinger, see
Biihlmann, op. cit., pp. 30 ff., 42. For the large role of "wisdom" in the
Middle Ages, consult F. W. Oediger, Vber die Bildung der Geistlichen im
spdten Mittelalter, E.J. Brill, Cologne, 1953, pp. 1 ff.
3 See literature on Tauler in Petry, "Social Responsibility," Church History,
Vol. 21, pt. 1, pp. 9-10, 18. Cf. A. L. Corin, Sermons de Tauler, 3 vols.,
Paris, 1927.
4 See the discussions by index in Biihlmann, and Bizet, op. cit. See especially
ch. 19 of the Life, chs. 4 and 7 of The Little Book of Truth, etc.
248 HENRY SUSO
Eckhart and Tauler, for all their preaching and teaching
overtness, reserve their inmost self-revelations, their most per-
sonal experiences. They tend to ignore, when they do not posi-
tively deride, the visions and ravishments so frequently asso-
ciated with the mystic union. Suso is less guarded. Purified in
his own modest self-analysis, he does grow in the grace of what,
in Christ, he has become beyond his own early strengths and
weaknesses. He gives his testimony to this in poetic vision even
as Francis does in his Praises and Lauds of the Crucified. The
historic Christ, the figure of the abused, crucified Lord, is funda-
mental in all of Suso's meditation. The soul given to the throes
of abandon sustains the vision of Calvary as being at once the
occasion of the keenest sorrow and the mstance for the truest
consolation.
The Little Book of Truth is, of course, a series of colloquies
between the "Disciple" and "Truth." 5 Here the fullest paradox
of Suso's life of anguished joy and happy sorrow becomes evi-
dent. If it be asked how man can be a creature and yet not one,
the answer is forthcoming. In human phrase man cannot be
both a creature and God. Still, man can, in some sense and
measure, provided "he is rapt into God," "be one in losing
himself," while at the same time he is enjoying, contemplating,
and the like. Analogically stated, the eye engaged in the process
of seeing really loses itself, for, by the very act of vision, it attains
oneness with the object while at the same time remaining itself.6
Suso, without compromising his own spiritual independence,
reasserts the principal "Rhenish" themes. There is the emphasis
on the transcending of "images" and "concepts."7 One finds
the rejection, at least momentarily, of reflective thought. What,
above all, is the objective of the true renunciant? Self-detach-
ment. Where is the minor difficulty? Thought! The major one?
The domination of self-will! Likewise, there is the definition of
Grund as pure simplicity and as "interior fortress."8 Quite famil-
iar is the stress on the transformation of man in the Deity, the
pouring out of man and the pouring in of God into the self-
abandoned man. Following more the Pauline figure, however,
5
The shifting of gender for the principals in Suso's dialogues can usually be
corrected by context, even though the change occurs sometimes in the
same sequence.
6 See ch. 5, p. 194, in J. M. Clark's translation of Henry Suso, The Little
Book of Truth.
7
Ibid., chs. 5, 7, etc.
8 GandiUac, in Melanges, Vol. 3, p. 76; Lavaud, GEuvre, Vol. I, pp. 347-48,
nos. 71-72, also pp. 338-39, no. 13 and note 1; p. 350, no. 85.
INTRODUCTION 249
9
the accent falls on the "new man" in Christ. Chapter IV of
The Little Book of Truth is on the significant "return" or "break-
through" which a self-abandoned man should make via the
only-begotten Son. This man turns "with a look that sinks away
toward the nothingness of his own self."10 Hence the self that
is truly thus surrendered becomes "Christlike." Just the same,
this man's own being remains; albeit in a form, glory, and power
that is truly different.11
There is, further, the significant emphasis on the double
nothingness of the creature and of the divine abyss. Dionysius
had referred to God as non-Being or Nothing, an eternal Noth-
ing, as it were.12 Suso's Prologue13 deals with the transcend-
ence of the divine Being "and the nothingness of all other
things." Men habitually call this Nothing, "God." In so doing
man is conscious of his being one with this same Nothing. Suso
is obviously deducing the fundamental emphasis of Eckhart via
Dionysius while hoping to skirt the heterodoxies so easily
ascribable to such negativist thought. Weighty considerations of
God and the Godhead are found in the second and fifth chapters
of the Truth. "Godhead and God are all one," Suso insists, as if
correcting Eckhart's frequent distinction between Deity and the
God of revelation. But he quickly asserts, following Eckhart,
that the Godhead, that is Deity, neither acts nor begets as does
God. Basically, Suso says, God and Godhead "are one." 14
These are obviously ticklish matters. In the wake of Eckhart's
condemnation, Suso is understandably cautious. He insists on
the abiding difference between created and uncreated sub-
stance. This emerges clearly in chapter six of the Truth. The
discussion of the "savage" or "wild man" recalls the whole
acerbated issue raised by the Beghards and Beguines, and by
the Brethren of the Free Spirit.15
Suso avoids the equivocation of the Taulerian discussion
9 The Little Book of Truth, ch. 4, especially pp. 184-85 in Clark.

10
Ibid., p. 184. The whole of ch. 4 is on the Durchbruch.
11
Ibid., pp. 184-85. On Durchbruch in relation to Gelassenheit, seen in its
double aspect of union with God and as the renunciatory means to that
end, cf. Buhlmann, op. cit., pp. 127-28, and Bizet, op. cit., pp. 230 ff.; also,
Gandillac, in Melanges, Vol. 3, pp. 77-78.
12
Truth, ch. 1, p. 176, and references to Dionysius' works.
13 Pp. 173-75.
14 Gh. 5, pp. 191, 199; ch. 2, p. 179.
15
Pp. 201-05; cf. E. W. McDonnell, The Beguines and Beghards in Medieval
Culture with Special Emphasis on the Belgian Scene, Rutgers University Press,
250 HENRY SUSO
regarding Bild, i.e., "picture," or "image." Suso specifies that
Christ is the sole, proper image of the Father and that man has
not been created imago, but only ad imaginem. Christ, therefore,
is the engendered Son. This we are not. He is the veritable
image of the Father. We are formed in the image of the Holy
Trinity.16
Suso further warns his disciples against the Beghard audacity
of committing sins in order to set the stage for true renunciation.
As to the Eckhartian paradox of placing charity above the
"rapture" of Paul, thus risking the depersonalization of love,
Suso emphasizes much more than Tauler, for instance, the sin-
gular relation of the " I " and the "you." 17
In The Little Book of Eternal Wisdom, Chapter VII, there is a
beautiful passage on "How Lovable God Is." Eternal Wisdom,
the Divine, declares himself to be, in himself, the incomprehen-
sible Good, always arid forever being, but never expressible in
words. In an act of supreme renunciation, however, Eternal
Wisdom reveals both the heart of self-giving and the spiritual
meaning of all this self-abnegating love, in human words. He
will "wind the sun's radiance in a cloth. . . ," 18
Wisdom pictures the "dear ones" enfolded in his sweet love
"swept into the only One," in a love where images and spoken
words have no place; "they are swept away into the Good, from
whom they emanated." To this the Servant replies with a rev-
elation of his own craving from Wisdom for a "particular love
and affection" for himself. He would have the "divine eyes" of
Wisdom take a "particular pleasure" in him. Divine Wisdom's
reply is reassuring. His love is not subject to the compression of
unity or the dissipation of numbers. The Servant is always
cherished in Wisdom's innermost concern. Wisdom gives him-
self in endearment and preoccupation with the Servant as if
there were no other claimants of love.19
It appears, finally, that the suffering humanity of Christ
marks out the only sure way to his divinity. No one, as Suso so
well realizes, can scale the divine heights or come to the strange
sweetness of contemplation except by the drawing example of
Christ's human bitterness.20 In the opening chapters, Suso apos-
trophizes the way of Christ's own poverty. In the Life,21 he
learns what it really means to go to school with Christ. However
!6 Truth, ch. 6, pp. 203-04; Gandillac, Melanges, Vol. 3, p. 77.
17 Gandillac, op. cit., Vol. 3, p. 78. » Pp. 71-73.
19 P. 74. 20 Eternal Wisdom, ch. 2, pp. 51 ff.
21 Ch. 19.
INTRODUCTION 25I
much revered Suso's name came finally to be, his career was
mainly the anguished joy of one who knows the bitter sweetness
of Christ's companionship. In leaving his disciples, in order to
ascend to the Father, Christ gives, according to his Servitor, the
symbol of renunciation from all creatures. One who wishes to
receive the noble quest worthily must exemplify "pure detach-
ment from all creatures." 22
22 Eternal Wisdom, ch. 6, pp. 65-66.
Henry Suso (c.
THE LITTLE BOOK OF ETERNAL WISDOM "
THE TEXT
Chapter One
How Some Men Are Drawn to God, Unknown to Them
Hanc amavi et exqui sivi a iuventute mea, et quae sivi mihi sponsam
assumere.24
These words are written in the Book of Wisdom and are
spoken by the fair, lovely Eternal Wisdom, and the meaning is:
"I have loved her and sought her from my youth, and have
chosen her as my bride."
In his early youth, an impetuous soul strayed into the paths
of error. Then, in spiritual imaginings, Eternal Wisdom met
him, and led him through rough and smooth ways till she
brought him to the right path of divine truth. And when he re-
called the wonderful guidance he had received, he spoke to God
thus: "Beloved, gentle Lord, since the days of my childhood, my
heart has sought for something with an ardent thirst. Lord,
what that is I cannot yet fully understand. Lord, I have pursued
it for many a year eagerly, and I have never yet succeeded, be-
cause I do not rightly know what it is, and yet it is something
that draws my heart and soul toward itself, and without which
I can never find true peace. Lord, in the first days of my youth
I tried to find it in the creatures, as I saw others do; but the
more I sought, the less I found it, and the nearer I went to it,
the farther off it was. For of every image that appeared to me,
before I had fully tested it, or abandoned myself to peace in it,
an inner voice said to me: 'This is not what thou seekest.' And I
have always had this revulsion from things. Lord, my heart now
23
Based on Bihlmeyer's text t h e translation is that of J . M . Clark, Henry
Suso: The Little Book of Eternal Wisdom and The Little Book of Eternal Truth,
London, 1953, p p . 47-56. Used b y permission of Faber & F a b e r L t d . ,
London, a n d of H a r p e r & Brothers, N e w York.
24 Wis. 8:2.
252
THE LITTLE BOOK OF ETERNAL WISDOM 253
25
yearns for it, for it would gladly possess it, and it has often
experienced what it is not; but what it is, my heart has not dis-
covered. Alas, beloved Lord of heaven, what is it, or of what
nature is it, that it should so mysteriously make itself felt within
me?"
Reply of ETERNAL WISDOM: Dost thou not recognize it?
Has she not lovingly embraced thee, and often helped thee on
thy way, until she has now won thee for herself?
THE SERVANT: Lord, I have never perceived nor heard of
it; I know not what it is.
Reply of ETERNAL WISDOM: That is not surprising, for
thy familiarity with the creatures and her strangeness26 have
caused that. But now open thy eyes and see who I am. It is I,
Eternal Wisdom, who have chosen thee for herself from all
eternity with the embrace of my eternal providence. I have
supported thee so often on the way; thou wouldst have been
separated from me so many times if I had forsaken thee. Thou
foundest always in every creature something that repelled, and
that is the truest sign of my elect, that I wish to have them for
myself.
THE SERVANT: Gentle, lovely Eternal Wisdom, and art
thou that which I have for so very long sought after? Art thou
the one for whom my soul ever strove? Alas, my God, why didst
thou not show thyself to me for this long time? How very long
thou hast postponed it! How many toilsome ways I have
struggled through!
Reply of ETERNAL WISDOM: Had I done so then, thou
wouldst not have recognized my goodness so clearly as thou hast
done now.
THE SERVANT: Ah, immeasurable Goodness, how sweetly
thou hast now revealed thy loving-kindness in me! When I did
not exist, thou gavest me my being. When I had departed from
thee, thou wouldst not leave me. When I wished to escape thee,
thou didst so sweetly hold me captive! Ah, Eternal Wisdom, if
now my heart could break into a thousand pieces, and embrace
thee, the joy of my heart, and spend all my days with thee in
steadfast love and perfect praise, that would be my heart's
desire! For truly that man is blessed whose desires thou dost so
affectionately anticipate, by never allowing him true rest until
he seeks his rest in thee alone!27
25 His heart.
2
« "She is a stranger to thee." Clark, Eternal Wisdom, p. 48, note 2.
27 Augustine, Confessions, Book I, ch. 1, sec. 1.
254 HENRY SUSO
Ah, rare, lovely Wisdom, since I now have found in thee the
one whom my soul loves, despise not thy poor creature. See how
completely my heart is silent toward all this world in joy and
sorrow! Lord, must my heart be forever silent toward thee?
Grant, O grant, beloved Lord, that my wretched soul may speak
a word to thee, for my full heart can bear it no longer alone. In
this wide world it has no one in whom it can confide, save thee,
gentle, rare, beloved Lord and Brother! Lord, thou alone seest
and knowest the nature of a loving heart, and knowest that no
one can love what he can in no wise understand. Therefore,
since I must now love thee alone, grant that I may know thee
better, that I may love thee entirely.
Reply of ETERNAL WISDOM: According to the natural
order, we take the highest emanation of all beings from their
first origin through the noblest beings down to the lowest. But
the return to the origin takes place through the lowest to the
highest. Therefore, if thou wouldst see me in my uncreated
divinity, thou shouldst learn to know me in my suffering
humanity, 28 for that is the swiftest way to eternal bliss.
THE SERVANT: Then, Lord, I will remind thee today of
the boundless love through which thou didst descend from thy
high throne, from the royal seat of the Father's heart, down to
thirty-three years of exile and contempt, and of the love that
thou hadst for me and for all men, which thou didst reveal most
of all in the most bitter pangs of thy terrible death. Lord, re-
member that thou didst reveal thyself to my soul in spiritual
fashion in the most lovable form to which thy boundless love
has ever brought thee.
Reply of ETERNAL WISDOM: The more I am worn out,
and the nearer to death from love, the more lovely am I to a
properly ordered mind. My boundless love reveals itself in the
whole bitterness of my sufferings, as the sun in its beams, as the
fair rose in its fragrance, and as the strong fire in its burning
heat. Therefore, hear with devotion how profoundly I suffered
for thy sake.
Chapter Two
What Happened Before the Crucifixion
After the Last Supper, when in the anguish of my gentle
heart, and in the pain of my whole body, I resigned myself on
the mountain to the pangs of bitter death, finding that it was
near at hand, I was covered with bloody sweat. I was captured
28 Augustine, Tract. 13 in Joannem, note 4.
THE LITTLE BOOK OF ETERNAL WISDOM 255
by my foes, harshly bound, wretchedly led away. In the night I
was shamefully ill-treated; I was scourged, was spat upon, and
my eyes were blindfolded. Early in the morning I was brought
before Caiaphas, accused, found guilty, and delivered to death.
Ineffable grief was seen in my pure mother, from the first glance
with which she saw me in anguish, until I was hanged on the
cross. I was shamefully brought before Pilate, falsely accused,
condemned to death. They stood opposite me, with terrible
eyes, like cruel giants, and I stood before them meekly, like a
lamb. I, Eternal Wisdom, was mocked as a fool before Pilate in
white clothing. My fair body was painfully disfigured and
bruised by the cruel lashes of the scourge. My gentle head was
pierced, and my loving face was covered with spittle and blood.
Thus, after being condemned, I was wretchedly and shamefully
led with my cross to my death. They cried out at me very
fiercely, so that their cries resounded in the air: "Hang him,
hang the criminal!"
THE SERVANT: Ah, Lord, the beginning is so very painful,
how can it end? If I saw a wild animal thus ill-treated in my
presence, I could scarcely bear it; how, then, would thy suffer-
ings pierce my heart and soul, and rightly so!
But, Lord, there is a great wonder in my heart. Beloved Lord,
I seek thy divinity everywhere, but thou dost only reveal thy
humanity. I seek thy sweetness, thou dost put forward thy bit-
terness. I wished to suck at thy breast, thou dost teach me to
fight. Ah, Lord, what meanest thou by this?
Reply of ETERNAL WISDOM: No one can attain to divine
heights or to unusual sweetness unless he be first drawn through
the example of my human bitterness. The higher one climbs
without passing through my humanity, the deeper one falls.
My humanity is the way by which one must go, my sufferings
are the gate through which one must pass, if one would attain
what thou seekest. Therefore, put away the timidity of thy
heart, and enter the lists of knightly courage, where I am, for
weakness befits not the knight in the place where his lord stands
in valiant courage. I will clothe thee with my armor, for all my
sufferings must be experienced by thee, according to thy
strength.
First make thyself bold, for thy heart must often die within
thee before thou canst overcome thy weakness, and sweat the
bloody sweat of many a painful ordeal, in which I will prepare
thyself for me; for I will dung thy garden of spices29 with red
« The soul.
256 HENRY SUSO
30
blossom. Contrary to old custom, thou must be taken prisoner
and bound; thou wilt often be slandered secretly by thy enemies,
and publicly shamed; many a false judgment of the people will
be passed on thee. Thou shalt diligently bear in thy heart my
Passion with maternal hearty love.31 Thou shalt have many a
harsh judge of thy godly life, and thy godly manner of life will
often be scornfully mocked by the human manner. Thy un-
practiced body will be scourged with a hard, severe life. Thou
wilt be scornfully crowned with the persecution of thy saintly
life. Afterward thou wilt be led out with me on the sorrowful
way of the cross when thou dost surrender thine own will and
forsake thyself, and be as free with regard to all creatures in
those matters that may cause thee to stray from thy eternal
salvation, as is a dying man, when he goes hence and has noth-
ing more to do with this world.
THE SERVANT: Alas, Lord, that is a toilsome undertaking
for me! My whole nature is afraid at these words: Lord, how
could I ever suffer all this? Gentle Lord, I must say one thing:
couldst thou in thy eternal wisdom find no other way to save
me, and to reveal thy love to me, by which thou couldst relieve
thyself of thy great sufferings and me of my bitter compassion?
How very strange thy judgments seem!32
Reply of ETERNAL WISDOM: No one should enter the
fathomless abyss of my mystery, wherein I ordain all things
according to my eternal providence, for none can understand
them. And yet there is therein a power to do this, and many
other things, which is never exercised. Yet know that in the
order of created things no more pleasing manner could be used.
The Lord of nature does not consider what he is able to do in
nature; he considers what is most fitting for every creature, and
he acts accordingly.33 How could man know better the divine
mystery than in his assumption of humanity? If a man had lost
joy from inordinate pleasure, how could he discover true eternal
joy? How could the unpracticed way of a hard, despised life be
carried on unless it was led by God himself? If thou didst lie in
the judgment of death, if then someone else received the death-
blow instead of thee, how could he show more loyalty and love
to thee, or, on the other hand, how could he better incite thee to
love him? If there be anyone whom my boundless love, my in-
expressible mercy, my glorious divinity, my most gracious
humanity, my most comforting friendship, move not to deep
31
30 Of suffering. With love of motherlike tenderness.
3
32 Rom. 11 .-33. 3 Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologica, pt. I, q. 3, art. 2.
THE LITTLE BOOK OF ETERNAL WISDOM £57
love, what then could soften his stony heart? Ask the fair order
of all creatures whether there was any more beautiful way of
maintaining my justice, demonstrating my boundless mercy,
ennobling human nature, pouring forth my goodness, reconcil-
ing heaven and earth, than that of my bitter death?
THE SERVANT: Lord, truly, I begin to perceive indeed that
it is so, and all those who are not blinded by folly, and all who
consider what is just, must agree with thee, and praise thy fair,
loving action above all others. But to imitate thee is painful for
an indolent body.
Reply of ETERNAL WISDOM: Be not afraid of imitating
my sufferings. For if God is so fully within a man that suffering
becomes easy for him, then he has no cause for complaint. No
one enjoys my presence more in unusual sweetness than those
who share with me the hardest bitterness. No one complains
more about the bitterness of the husk than he who knows not
the sweetness of the kernel. If we have a good comrade, half the
battle is won.
THE SERVANT: Lord, thy words of comfort have made me
so valiant that methinks I can do and suffer all things in thee. 34
Therefore, I ask thee to open up fully the treasure house of thy
sufferings and tell me still more of them.
Chapter Three
How He Felt on the Cross as Regards the Inner Man
ETERNAL WISDOM: When I was suspended on the high
branch of the cross with boundless love, for the sake of thee and
of all men, my whole form was most wretchedly disfigured; my
clear eyes were dimmed and lost their luster; my divine ears
were filled with mockery and insult; my noble sense of smell
was assailed by an evil stench; my sweet mouth with a bitter
draught; my gentle sense of touch with hard blows. Then I
could not find a place of rest in the whole world, for my divine
head was bowed down by pain and torment; my joyful throat
was rudely bruised; my pure countenance was defiled with
spittle; the clear color of my cheeks turned wan and pallid.
Look, my fair form was then disfigured, as though I were a
leper, and had never been fair Wisdom.35
THE SERVANT: O thou most charming Mirror of all grace,
on whom the heavenly spirits feast their eyes, as on the beauty
34 Phil. 4:13. 35 Cf. Isa. 53:2, 4.
17—L.M.A*.
258 HENRY SUSO
of the spring, would that I might have seen thy beloved coun-
tenance in thy dying hour, until I had covered it with my heart-
felt tears, and gazed my fill on thy fair eyes and thy bright
cheeks, so that I might relieve my heart's grief with profound
lamentation.
Ah, beloved Lord, thy sufferings affect some persons deeply,
they can lament feelingly, and weep for thee sincerely. Ah,
Lord, would that I could lament as the spokesman of all loving
hearts, that I could shed the bright tears of all eyes, and utter
the lamentations of ail tongues: then I would show thee today
how deeply the anguish of thy Passion affects me!
Reply of ETERNAL WISDOM: None can better show how
much my Passion affects them than those who share it with me
by the testimony of their works. I would rather have a free heart,
untroubled by ephemeral love, which with steadfast diligence
follows that which is highest, imitating the example of my life,
than that thou shouldst forever lament for me, and shed as many
tears weeping over my martyrdom as ever drops of rain fell from
the sky. For I suffered the pangs of death in order that I might
be imitated, however lovable are the tears, and however accept-
able to me.
THE SERVANT: Alas, gentle Lord, inasmuch as a beautiful
imitation of thy gentle life and of thy loving Passion is so very
dear to thee, I will in future strive rather after a loving imita-
tion than a tearful lamentation, although according to thy
words, I should do both. And therefore teach me how to re-
semble thee in this suffering.
Reply of ETERNAL WISDOM: Break thy pleasure in frivo-
lous seeing and idle hearing; let love taste good to thee, and
take pleasure in what has been distasteful to thee; give up for
my sake all bodily luxury. Thou shalt seek all thy rest in me,
love bodily discomfort, suffer evil willingly, desire contempt,
renounce thy desires, and die to all thy lusts. That is the begin-
ning of the school of Wisdom, which is to be read in the open
and wounded book of my crucified body. And look, even if man
does all that is in his power, can anyone in the whole world do
for me what I have done for him? 36
36 See, in relation to this paragraph, Suso's ch. 7, in The Little Book of Truth,
Clark ed., pp. 206 ff., which deals at length with Gelassenheit. Cf. Clark,
The Great German Mystics, p. 62, and the treatments of Biihlmann and
Bizet, op. cit.
THE LIFE OF THE SERVANT:
THE HIGHER SCHOOL OF GELASSENHEIT"
THE TEXT
Chapter XIX
How He Was Led to the Spiritual School and Instructed in the Knowledge
of True Self-surrender
Once after matins, the Servant sat in his chair, and as he

meditated he fell into a trance. It seemed to his inner eye that
a noble youth came down toward him, and stood before him
saying: "Thou hast been long enough in the lower school and
hast exercised thyself long enough in it; thou hast become
mature. Come with me now! I will take thee to the highest
school that exists in the world. There thou shalt learn diligently
the highest knowledge, which will lead thee to divine peace and
bring thy holy beginning to a blessed fulfillment." Thereat he
was glad and he arose. The youth took him by the hand and led
him, as it seemed to him, to a spiritual land. There was an ex-
tremely beautiful house there and it looked as if it was the resi-
dence of monks. Those who lived there were concerned with the
higher knowledge. When he entered he was kindly received and
affectionately welcomed by them. They hastened to their master
and told him that someone had come who also wished to be his
disciple, and to learn their knowledge. He said, "First I will see
him with my own eyes, to see if he pleases me." On seeing him,
he smiled at him very kindly and said, "Know from me that
this guest is quite capable of becoming a worthy master of our
high learning, if he will only patiently submit to living in the
narrow cage in which he must be confined."
The Servant turned to the youth who had brought him there
and asked, "Ah, my dear friend, tell me, what is this highest
school and what is this learning thou hast spoken of?" The youth
replied: "The high school and the knowledge which is taught
37 Chapters 19 and 22 of the Life are here used in Clark's translation (from
the Bihlmeyer text): The Life of the Servant, London, 1952, pp. 55-57,
65-67. Used by permission of James Clarke & Co., Ltd.
259
260 HENRY SUSO
here is nothing but the complete, entire abandonment of one's
self,38 that is to say, that a man must persist in self-abnegation,
however God acts toward him, by Himself or by His creatures.
He is to strive at all times, in joy and in sorrow, to remain con-
stant in giving up what is his own, as far as human frailty per-
mits, considering only God's praise and honor, just as the dear
Christ did to his Heavenly Father."
When the Servant had heard all this, he was well pleased, and
he thought he would learn this knowledge, and that nothing
could be so hard that he would fail to achieve it. He wanted to
live there and find active occupation there. The youth forbade
this, however, saying, "This learning demands unbroken lei-
sure; the less one does here, the more one has done in reality."
He meant that kind of activity with which a man hinders him-
self, and does not strive purely for God's praise.
After these words the Servant suddenly came to himself, and
sat still as he was. He began to think over the words deeply and
noticed that they were the pure truths that Christ himself
taught. He then fell into an inner discussion with himself, say-
ing: "Look carefully into thyself and thou wilt find that thou
art still the slave of thyself, and thou wilt observe that in spite
of all thy external actions, which indeed thou dost only carry
out for thy own reasons, thou art not sufficiently composed to
withstand the tribulations that confront thee from without.
Thou art still like a timid hare that lies hidden in a bush and
starts at every leaf that falls. Thus it is with thee: thou art
afraid all thy days of imaginary sufferings that may befall thee.
Thou dost turn pale at the very sight of thy adversary. When
thou shouldst face them, thou dost flee; when thou shouldst
surrender unarmed, thou dost conceal thyself. Then, when
praised thou dost smile, when blamed thou dost grieve. It may
well be true that thou dost need a higher school."
38 Volkommenen Gelassenheit des Ich. See The Book of Truth, chs. 7 and 4.
THE LIFE OF THE SERVANT: THE WAY
OF SUFFERING AND OF THE CROSS
THE TEXT
Chapter XXII
How He Set Out to Bring Wholesome Help to His Neighbors
After he had devoted himself for many years to his own reli-
gious life, he was impelled by God through manifold revela-
tions to promote the spiritual welfare of his neighbors. There
was no end to the number of sufferings that befell him as a result
of these good works, though many souls were helped in this
way.39
God once revealed this to a chosen friend of God. Her name
was Anna, and she was his spiritual daughter. Once in her devo-
tions, she went into an ecstasy, and she saw the Servant saying
Mass on a high mountain. She saw an immense host of persons
living in him and attached to him. But all were not in the same
position: the more each had of God in him, the more they
lived in the Servant also; and the more closely they were united
to him, the more God had turned to them. She saw how fer-
vently he prayed for them to the eternal God, whom he held in
his priestly hands; and she asked God to explain to her what
this vision meant. Thereupon God answered her thus: "The
vast number of these children who cling to him are all the people
who are taught by him, who listen to him, confess to him, or are
devoted to him in any other way with special affection. He drew
them to me in such a way that I will bring their lives to a good
end, and see that they are never to be separated from my joyous
countenance. But whatever sufferings may befall him as a con-
sequence of this, he shall be well rewarded by me."
39
Apropos this 22d chapter of the Life and the balancing of the active and
the contemplative life d la Gregory see the "Brief buchlein," Brief 9, in
Bihlmeyer, Heinrich Seuse, deutsche Schriften, pp. 388-89 and notes, and
"Grosses Briefbuch," Brief 21, in Bihlmeyer, op, cit., pp. 468-69 and
notes. Cf. Gregory, Moral. VI, 18, 57; XXXI, 12.
261
262 HENRY SUSO
Before the above-mentioned noble maiden knew the Servant
of Eternal Wisdom, God gave her the inner impulse to see him.
It happened once that she was in an ecstasy, and she was told in
a vision to go to the place where the Servant was, and see him.
She said, "I do not recognize him in the crowd of the friars."
Then she was told: "He is easy to recognize among the others:
he has a green crown on his head which is adorned round and
round with red and white roses interspersed, like a child's chap-
let of roses. And the white roses mean his purity, and the red
roses his patience in the manifold sufferings which he must
endure.
"Just as the round halo that it is customary to paint round
the heads of saints denotes the eternal bliss which they enjoy in
God, similarly the rosy ring denotes the manifold sufferings that
the dear friends of God have to bear, as long as they serve God
as his liege knights in this world." Then, in her vision, the angel
conducted her to the place where he was, and she recognized
him at once by the rosy ring that he had round his head.
During this time of suffering, his greatest support from within
was the diligent aid of the heavenly angels. Once, when he had
lost the power of his outer senses, it seemed to him in a vision
that he was led to a place where there was a large host of angels.
One of them, who was nearest to him, said, "Stretch forth thy
hand and see!" He put his hand out, and, looking, he beheld
that from the middle of his palm there sprang a beautiful red
rose with green leaves. The rose grew so large that it covered his
hands up to his fingers; it was so fair and bright that it gave his
eyes great joy. He turned round his hand, this way and that, and
there was a lovely sight on both sides of it. He said with great
wonder in his heart, "Ah, dear friend, what does this vision
signify?" The youth said: "It signifies sufferings and sufferings
again, and more and more sufferings to follow, which God will
give thee. Those are the four roses on both hands and feet." The
Servant sighed and said, "Ah, gentle Lord, it is a wondrous dis-
pensation of thy providence that suffering should cause men
such pain, and yet adorn them so beautifully, in a spiritual
sense."
IX
Catherine of Siena (1347-1380)

INTRODUCTION
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
c ATHERINE WAS BORN IN SIENA OF A DYER'S FAMILY

in 1347. At five or six years of age she began to sustain
contemplative visitations accompanied by variously re-
ported physical phenomena and ecstasies. During adolescence,
while her people planned a suitable marriage for her, she clung
stubbornly to early vows of virginity and to harsh austerities.
Rigidly secluded in family quarters for some years with reluctant
paternal consent, she came gradually to accept a dedicated life
in the world; all the while fostering a religious vocation in an
inner cell of the heart. Following a meeting in vision with
Dominic, she was permitted the habit of the Dominican Third
Order of Penance. Granted ever more familiar colloquies with
Christ and increasingly rapturous associations with his redemp-
tive sufferings, she entered mystical marriage with her Lord on
the last day of Carnival, 1367. Her subsequent raptures, mys-
tical death, and stigmata evidenced alike her heightened con-
cern for souls and for the church, patently in need of reforma-
tion, through whom, alone, they could be saved. The more
mystical her experience became, the more active her apostolate
grew. Following 1370 she vigorously prosecuted the cause of a
Christian crusade. In correspondence with popes and Christians
of many callings, and on trips to Florence, Pisa, Avignon, and
Rome, she pressed for the end of the Babylonian Captivity and
the girding of church, clergy, and laity in Christ's cause. The
Avignon exile ended, technically, with Gregory XFs return to
Rome. Catherine's dictation in 1378 of her Dialogue, which has
reached us in editorialized form, virtually coincides with the
inception of the Great Western Schism and with her own labors
in support of Urban VI. Having adopted frequent Communion
263
264 CATHERINE OF SIENA
in 1372 and having accepted the spiritual direction of Raymond
of Capua in 1373, Catherine gave rise to popularly reported
miracles which, like her ministering virtues, were cherished in
a mounting crescendo of public regard. She died in 1380.
Canonization followed in 1461.
A useful study is Th. Deman's "La theologie dans la vie de
Sainte Catherine de Sienne," La vie spirituelle, Vol. 42 (1935),
Supplement, pp. [i]-[24]. Compare R. Garrigou-Lagrange,
"Lafoi selon Sainte Catherine de Sienne," ibid., Vol. 45 (1935),
pp. 236-249; also DS II, 327-48. The first modern vernacular
edition of Catherine's works is G. Gigli, Uopere della serafica santa
Caterina da Siena, 4 vols., Siena, 1707. The Dialogo is Vol. 4.
Other editions and translations of the Dialogo are those of M.
Fiorilli, Bari, 1912; I. Taurisano, Rome, 1947; Le dialogue, by
R. P. J. Hurtaud, 2 vols., Paris, 1913; and the Dialogue by A.
Thorold, London, 1896 and 1925. Le lettere di S. Caterina da
Siena based on the edition of Niccolo Tommaseo were reissued
in revised form with additions by Piero Misciattelli, in 6 vols.,
Florence, 1940. The first volume of a critical text, Epistolario di
Santa Caterina da Siena, ed. by Eugenio Dupre Theseider, ap-
peared at Rome in 1940. Useful sources are Fontes vitae s.
Catharinae Senensis historici, ed., H. Laurent and F. Valli, begin-
ning with I. Documenti, in Siena, 1936. Critical studies and
reinterpretations of source texts include R. Fawtier's invaluable
Sainte Catherine de Sienne: Essai de critique des sources: I. Les sources
hagiographiques, Paris, 1921, and I I . Les ceuvres de Sainte Catherine
de Sienne, Paris, 1930. Quite useful is his later work "L'experience
humaine," pp. 15-236, bound together with L. Canet's "L'ex-
perience spirituelle," pp. 237-268 in La double experience de
Catherine Benincasa {Sainte Catherine de Sienne), Gallimard, Paris,
1948. Still serviceable is Saint Catherine of Siena as Seen in Her
Letters, translated by Vida D. Scudder, London and New York,
1905—. Thirteen letters are translated by Louis-Paul Guigues
as Ste. Catherine de Sienne: La sang, la croix, la verite, Gallimard,
Paris, 1940. A. Grion's Santa Caterina da Siena: Dottrine e Fonti,
Cremona, 1953, is convenient. Authoritative interpretations,
largely source-based, are A. T. Drane, The History of St.
Catherine of Siena and Her Companions, London, 1880, E. G. Gard-
ner, Saint Catherine of Siena, London, 1907, and J. Jorgensen,
Saint Catherine of Siena, tr. by I. Lund, Longmans, Green & Co.,
INTRODUCTION 265
Inc., London and New York, 1938. A brief provocative work is
M. De La Bedoyere, Catherine Saint of Siena, Hollis & Carter,
London, 1947.
SYNOPSIS
Catherine displays a fiery spirit and a commanding will
linked inextricably with uncompromising theological premises.
What is the clue to her mystical integrity and her spiritual
creativity? Perhaps faith best supplies the answer. It is the
animating idea of Catherine's doctrine as it is of her life.
Key texts in the Dialogue seem to bear out this premise. In the
light of faith she claims to have found her strength and con-
stancy. It is in the light of faith that she hopes. She knows that
it will not desert her on her pilgrimage. This light shows her the
way. Without it she would be plunged into the shadows. The
knowledge of God in faith aids in the knowledge of oneself. This
light of faith shines throughout the entire Dialogue even as it
prevails in this last chapter.1
Sin is, for Catherine, above all else, a blindness of the soul.
Maintaining itself in the sweet retreat of self-knowledge and of
God's goodness, the soul comes humbly to see itself for what it
is. It exists, not for itself but for God, and the fire of its love grows
with the realization that it holds from God its very being and
all the graces added thereto. The soul then conceives a holy
hatred of sin and sensuality. It unites itself, by means of God's
love, that force supreme, to the true solid virtues. Faith is the
soul of the entire apostolate, where one seeks to enfold the world
in self-giving love. It is like a water jar filled at the fountain.
Taken from its source for drinking, it is soon emptied. Held
plunged in the water, it remains ever full, to be drawn on
always. So it is in the love of neighbor.2
It is obvious from the Dialogue, chapter 64, for example, that
Catherine's is a missionary mysticism, a mysticism of aposto-
late. 3 The false incompatibility of the active and the contem-
plative life is certainly no postulate of hers. On the contrary,
"the cell of self-knowledge" goes with one on journey through-
out the active pilgrimage in the world. Her religious state is,
like that of Gregory and Bernard, the mixed vocation, even as
1 See the Dialogo {Dial), ch. 167. Cf. also Le lettere {Let), T. 272 (G.
90) =Tommaseo and Gigli nos.
2
Dial., caps. 4, 7, 8, 45-46, 51, 63-66 (especially 64, on the fountain), 72-
74. Cf. Let., T. 304, G. 345.
3
See J. Leclercq, Sainte Catherine de Sienne, Paris, 1947.
it is that of Thomas Aquinas, so many of whose doctrines she
reflects.
Catherine is indeed a remarkable ensemble of scholastic pos-
tulates, with all their overtones of abstraction and dialectic,
joined to ardent sentiments phrased in well-nigh romantic
language. Faith, for her, is at once an intellectually oriented
dynamis and a moving, empowering verity.
The Dialogue explains that faith is a light received in Bap-
tism, thus showing the way to eternal life.4 Faith is the pupil of
the eye of intelligence. Its light makes possible our discerning
and following the way and the teaching of the truth which is
the incarnate Word. Without this pupil which is faith the soul
would be blind. It would be like a man who, indeed, had eyes,
the seeing pupils of which, however, were covered as with a
veil. Intelligence is, then, the soul's eye. The pupil of this eye is
faith, s
According to Catherine, the distinctive property of man is
reason. Grace gives an inner vitalizing impulse to that reason
which, raised to supernatural levels, finds outlet in all the vir-
tues, as in the life of faith, hope, and charity.
God himself delcares that without the light of reason none
may find the way of truth. This light of reason is held directly
from him who is the True Light. This reason is in men by virtue
of the intelligence and by the brightness of the faith communi-
cated to them in holy Baptism; unless, God forbid, they have
been deprived of it by their transgressions. The church's sacra-
ments appropriated in faith, are, therefore, the soul's path of
light. In Baptism, by virtue of the blood of God's Son, man re-
ceives the form of faith. This faith, once invested, eventuates in
acts consonant with the light of reason. Reason and faith are
obviously unopposable.
Reason, clarified by faith's light, gives life and direction in
the way of truth. By means of this light humanity is enabled to
reach the True Light. Without it there is nought but darkness.
Two illuminations, irradiated from this light, are immediately
necessary. The first enables one to sense the fragility of evanes-
cent, worldly things. The soul is powerless to comprehend the
meaning of life aside from its cognizance, first of all, of its own
frailty and the inclination, by a perverse law within it, to revolt
against its Creator.6
4 Dial., cap. 29.
5 Dial., caps. 45, 51; Let., T. 272, G. 90; cf. Garrigou-Lagrange, op. cit.
6 For the foregoing see Dial., cap. 98, especially through 101, also cap. 51,
INTRODUCTION 267
The soul, exercising its faith and reason in disciplined, renun-
ciatory love, will have the gracious addition to its natural light
of a supernatural illumination. Catherine stresses the necessity
of exciting the natural light for the despising of the world and
for the embracing of virtue; for the seeking out, by means of that
light, of the good where it is. Such research will lead to God
whence the good comes. One must, in the course of such seeking,
perceive the unspeakable love shown by God in the gift of his
Son, who gave so much of love for mankind's redemption.
Accompanying this first, imperfect, natural light will be the
acquisition of a perfect, supernatural light. This will be diffused
by grace in the soul, attaching it to the operation of the virtue
within. Thus the soul will be fortified everywhere, and at all
times, in conformity with the divine will, which seeks always our
human sanctification. Hereby, the first light, if properly de-
veloped, prepares the way for the second. This, in turn, unites
us to the life of virtue.7
Self-knowledge, therefore, conduces to that state in which the
supernatural comes to associate itself with the natural. This
knowing oneself is, however, not some naive recourse to Socratic
principles, however intriguing. Knowledge does not guarantee
virtue. Socrates had not allowed sufficiently for original sin and
human egotism. The lien with human sin once broken, how-
ever, the light is invited to accomplish in the soul its work of
cleansing and amelioration.
Far from assuming, as most do, that man naturally inclines
toward evil, Catherine is convinced that, at the base of his
moral life, man wishes good. What, then, deflects him from it?
Self-love, of course. Catherine insists that because of this we seek
the good where it is not. We are not, thereby, inclined to evil.
Take away the obstacle and nature will go its proper way. Mis-
led, however, by the erroneous calculations of self-love, the soul
gropes about in self-imposed darkness. With its true light ob-
scured, the soul fails to seek the good where it actually resides.
Miraculously recalled from its abortive search to the real good,
the soul is oriented anew by the blood of the loving Christ. The
soul finds itself answering the divine love with a reborn, re-
discovered love of its own.8
and the series of letters "A Misser Ristoro di Pietro Canigiani in Firenze,"
G. 228-32; T. 258, 266, 279, 299, and 301, especially the last. Also T. 272,
G. 90. 7 Let., T. 301; Dial., caps. 99-101; DS II, 342-43.
8 Let., T. 301, 304; Deman, op. cit.9 pp. [ 8 ] - [ n ] ; Dial, caps. 1, 7, 43, 51,
666* 73~74> 98, 115-18, 162, 166.
Catherine resumes this theme in a letter to Peter Cardinal de
Luna, later Benedict XIII. 9 Clearly, it is by the Redeemer's
blood that we are able to know the truth of the light inhering in
the holy faith, which brightens the eye of the intelligence. In the
love of this truth the soul finds its nourishment. Because of that
love for the truth, it would rather suffer death than be recreant
to the truth. The soul does not balk at telling the truth when the
proper time comes. Worldly men do not intimidate its witness.
No fears for its life prompt the soul's action. Fearing God alone,
it stands ready to lay down its life for the love of the truth. Con-
fident that truth has justice alone for her companion, the soul
does not reserve its bald indictment of evil. It reproves boldly,
knowing that this precious pearl that is justice ought to be
clearly evident in every rational creature; certainly in prelates
of the church. Truth knows when to hold its tongue, also. Its
very silence is a witness of patience and a protest. It is not igno-
rant, but discerningly aware, of where God's honor and the good
of souls is most surely found. Catherine, in conclusion, pleads
with the cardinal to enlist himself passionately for the truth, so
that he may be a column in the mystical body of holy church,
wherein it is necessary to spread the truth. For the truth, being
in the church, yearns to be administered by those who should be
most properly impassioned and brightened by it, not by the
ignorant who are separated from the truth.
In the doctrine of love's development, Catherine reveals no
scholastic didactic. It has its own logical integrity, however, in
that it is a surely destined growth. Perhaps Catherine comes,
finally, to mime theology with the force of life itself. More
adequate than the preacher's gestures, the attitude of her body
becomes, during her life, that of the mystery of Jesus—until the
stigmata are there imprinted. Such mimicry is not one of puerile
or hysterical aberration. This symbolism is the appropriate im-
plementation of a theological predicate. Catherine lives her
teaching in a sanely nurtured interiority, also in an apostolate
of loving dedication out of love for Christ, for the whole world
of people.
Her mysticism is, truly, one of apostolate. For her the love of
Christ and neighbor is inseparable from the love of God. She
bases the spiritual life on faith. Faith leads, in turn, to a better
knowledge of God and oneself, hence to a better apostolate.
Still in the knowledge of faith, and, more generally, throughout
9 Let., T. 284, G. 25.

INTRODUCTION 269
the whole spiritual career, the real primacy must remain with
love. Here the example of Christ is pre-eminent. This love will
lead, for Catherine, to frequent ecstasy and to stigmatization.10
10 DS II, 1995-96; Dial., caps. 7, 34, 64; Let., T. 242, 272, 301, 304.
Catherine of Siena (i347-1380)
A TREATISE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE"
THE TEXT
/ . How a Soul, Elevated by Desire of the Honor of God, and of

the Salvation of Her Neighbors, Exercising Herself in Humble
Prayer, After She Had Seen the Union of the Soul, Through Love,
with God, Asked of God Four Requests
The soul, who is lifted by a very great and yearning desire for
the honor of God and the salvation of souls, begins by exercising
herself, for a certain space of time, in the ordinary virtues, re-
maining in the cell of self-knowledge,12 in order to know better
the goodness of God toward her. This she does because knowl-
edge must precede love, and only when she has attained love
can she strive to follow and to clothe herself with the truth. But,
in no way does the creature receive such a taste of the truth, or
so brilliant a light therefrom, as by means of humble and con-
tinuous prayer, founded on knowledge of herself and of God;
because prayer, exercising her in the above way, unites with
God the soul that follows the footprints of Christ Crucified and
thus, by desire and affection, and union of love, makes her an-
other Himself.13 Christ would seem to have meant this when he
said: To him who will love me and will observe my commandment, will
I manifest myself; and he shall be one thing with me and I with him.14
In several places we find similar words, by which we can see
that it is, indeed, through the effect of love that the soul
becomes another Himself. That this may be seen more
clearly, I will mention what I remember having heard from a
handmaid of God, namely, that, when she was lifted up in
prayer, with great elevation of mind, God was not wont to
II
This so-called "Treatise" is, in its traditional arrangement, the first part
of the Dialogo. This translation, based on the Gigli edition, is that of Algar
Thorold, The Dialogue of the Seraphic Virgin Catherine of Siena . . ., a new
and abridged [from the 1896, London] edition, Westminster, Maryland,
1944, pp. 26-49. Used by permission of The Newman Press.
12
Nella cella del cognoscimento di si.
14
13 Un altro si. John 14:21.
270
A TREATISE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE 271
conceal, from the eye of her intellect, the love which he had for
his servants, but rather to manifest it; and, that among other
things, he used to say: "Open the eye of thy intellect,15 and gaze
into me, and thou shalt see the beauty of my rational creature.
And look at those creatures who, among the beauties which I
have given to the soul, creating her in my image and similitude,
are clothed with the nuptial garment (that is, the garment of
love), adorned with many virtues, by which they are united
with me through love. And yet I tell thee, if thou shouldest ask
me who these are, I should reply" (said the sweet and amorous
word of God) "they are another Myself, inasmuch as they have
lost and denied their own will, and are clothed with mine, are
united to mine, are conformed to mine." It is therefore true,
indeed, that the soul unites herself with God by the affection of
love.
So, that soul, wishing to know and follow the truth more man-
fully, and lifting her desires first for herself—for she considered
that a soul could not be of use, whether in doctrine, example, or
prayer, to her neighbor, if she did not first profit herself, that is,
if she did not acquire virtue in herself—addressed four requests
to the Supreme and Eternal Father. The first was for herself;
the second, for the reformation of the holy church; the third, a
general prayer for the whole world, and in particular for the
peace of Christians who rebel, with much lewdness and per-
secution, against the holy church; in the fourth and last, she
besought the divine Providence to provide for things in general,
and in particular for a certain case with which she was con-
cerned.16
2. How the Desire of This Soul Grew When God Showed Her the
Neediness of the World
This desire was great and continuous, but grew much more,
when the First Truth showed her the neediness of the world, and
in what a tempest of offense against God it lay. And she had
understood this the better from a letter which she had received
from the spiritual Father of her soul, in which he explained to
is Apri Vocchio deWIntelleto; cf. Dial., 45, 51; Let., G. 90, T. 272; and Jorgen-
sen, op. cit., pp. 311-20.
*6 See the return to the four requests in Dial., cap. 166. Compare with this,
Let., G. 90, T. 272; the "Relatione d'una dottrina" = "Documento spiri-
tuale" (Gigli, op. cit., Vol. I, pp. 374-76; Gardner, op. cit., pp. 17-19),
and others correlated in the Appendix of Grion, op. cit., pp. 357 ff.
her the penalties and intolerable dolor caused by offenses
against God, and the loss of souls, and the persecutions of holy
church.
All this lighted the fire of her holy desire with grief for the
offenses, and with the joy of the lively hope with which she
waited for God to provide against such great evils. And, since
the soul seems, in such communion, sweetly to bind herself fast
within herself and with God, and knows better his truth, inas-
much as the soul is then in God and God in the soul, as the fish
is in the sea and the sea in the fish, she desired the arrival of the
morning (for the morrow was a feast of Mary) in order to hear
Mass. And, when the morning came, and the hour of the Mass,
she sought with anxious desire her accustomed place; and, with
a great knowledge of herself, being ashamed of her own im-
perfection, appearing to herself to be the cause of all the evil
that was happening throughout the world, conceiving a hatred
and displeasure against herself, and a feeling of holy justice,
with which knowledge, hatred, and justice she purified the
stains which seemed to her to cover her guilty soul, she said: "O
Eternal Father, I accuse myself before thee, in order that thou
mayest punish me for my sins in this finite life, and, inasmuch as
my sins are the cause of the sufferings which my neighbor must
endure, I implore thee, in thy kindness, to punish them in my
person."17
jj. How Finite Works Are Not Sufficient for Punishment or

Recompense Without the Perpetual Affection of Love
Then the Eternal Truth seized and drew more strongly to
himself her desire, doing as he did in the Old Testament, for
when the sacrifice was offered to God, a fire descended and
drew to him the sacrifice that was acceptable to him; so did the
sweet Truth to that soul, in sending down the fire of the clem-
ency of the Holy Spirit, seizing the sacrifice of desire that she
made of herself, saying: "Dost thou not know, dear daughter,
that all the sufferings which the soul endures, or can endure, in
this life are insufficient to punish one smallest fault, because the
offense, being done to me, who am the Infinite Good, calls for
an infinite satisfaction? However, I wish that thou shouldest
know that not all the pains that are given to men in this life are
given as punishments but as corrections, in order to chastise a
17
Observe the relation of this to neighbor, the lagrime, bad priests, the re-
form of the church, etc. (Dial., caps. 87-134).
son when he offends; though it is true that both the guilt and the
penalty can be expiated by the desire of the soul, that is, by true
contrition,18 not through the finite pain endured, but through
the infinite desire; because God, who is infinite, wishes for in-
finite love and infinite grief. Infinite grief I wish from my crea-
ture in two ways: in one way, through her sorrow for her own
sins, which she has committed against me her Creator; in the
other way, through her sorrow for the sins which she sees her
neighbors commit against me. Of such as these, inasmuch as
they have infinite desire, that is, are joined to me by an affection
of love, and therefore grieve when they offend me, or see me
offended, their every pain, whether spiritual or corporeal, from
wherever it may come, receives infinite merit, and satisfies for a
guilt which deserved an infinite penalty, although their works
are finite and done in finite time; but, inasmuch as they possess
the virtue of desire, and sustain their suffering with desire, and
contrition, and infinite displeasure against their guilt, their pain
is held worthy. Paul explained this when he said: If I had the
tongues of angels, and if I knew the things of thefuture and gave my body
to be burned, and have not love, it would be worth nothing to me.19 T h e
glorious apostle thus shows that finite works are not valid, either
as punishment or recompense, without the condiment of the
affection of love."
4. How Desire and Contrition of Heart Satisfies, Both for the

Guilt and the Penalty in Oneself and in Others; and How Sometimes
It Satisfies for the Guilt Only, and Not the Penalty
"I have shown thee, dearest daughter, that the guilt is not
punished in this finite time by any pain which is sustained purely
as such. And I say that the guilt is punished by the pain which
is endured through the desire, love, and contrition of the heart;
not by virtue of the pain, but by virtue of the desire of the soul;
inasmuch as desire and every virtue is of value, and has life in
itself, through Christ crucified, my only-begotten Son, in so far
as the soul has drawn her love from him, and virtuously follows
his virtues, that is, his footprints. In this way, and in no other,
are virtues of value, and in this way pains satisfy for the fault,
by the sweet and intimate love acquired in the knowledge of my
goodness, and in the bitterness and contrition of heart acquired
18
La vera contritione satisfd alia Colpa, & alia Pena (Fiorilli, op. cit., p. 6: La
vera contrizione satisfa a la colpa ed a la pena).
19 Cf. I Cor. 13:1-3.
l8 L.M.M.
by knowledge of one's self and one's own thoughts. And this
knowledge generates a hatred and displeasure against sin, and
against the soul's own sensuality, through which she deems her-
self worthy of pains and unworthy of reward."
The sweet Truth continued: "See how, by contrition of the
heart, together with love, with true patience, and with true
humility, deeming themselves worthy of pain and unworthy of
reward, such souls endure the patient humility in which consists
the above-mentioned satisfaction. Thou askest me, then, for
pains, so that I may receive satisfaction for the offenses which
are done against me by my creatures, and thou further askest
the will to know and love me, who am the Supreme Truth.
Wherefore I reply that this is the way, if thou wilt arrive at a
perfect knowledge and enjoyment of me, the Eternal Truth,
that thou shouldest never go outside the knowledge of thyself,20
and, by humbling thyself in the valley of humility, thou wilt
know me and thyself, from which knowledge thou wilt draw all
that is necessary. No virtue, my daughter, can have life in itself
except through charity, and humility, which is the foster mother
and nurse of charity. In self-knowledge, then, thou wilt humble
thyself, seeing that, in thyself, thou dost not even exist;21 for
thy very being, as thou wilt learn, is derived from me, since I
have loved both thee and others before you were in existence;
and that, through the ineffable love which I had for you, wish-
ing to re-create you to grace, I have washed you, and re-created
you in the blood of my only-begotten Son, spilt with so great a
fire of love.22 This blood teaches the truth to him who, by self-
knowledge, dissipates the cloud of self-love,23 and in no other
way can he learn. Then the soul will inflame herself in his
knowledge of me with an ineffable love, through which love she
continues in constant pain; not, however, a pain which afflicts
or dries up the soul, but one which rather fattens her; for since
she has known my truth, and her own faults, and the ingrati-
tude of men, 24 she endures intolerable suffering, grieving be-
cause she loves me; for, if she did not love me, she would not be
obliged to do so; whence it follows immediately that it is right
for thee, and my other servants who have learned my truth in
this way, to sustain, even unto death, many tribulations and
20 Che tu non esca mat del cognoscimento di te.

21 Vedendo te per te non essere.
22 Sparto con tantofuoco d'Amore.
23 Che s'd levata la nuvola deWAmore proprio, per lo cognoscimento di si.
24 E la Ingratitudine, e ciechitd del Prossimo. . . .
injuries and insults in word and deed, for the glory and praise of
my name; thus wilt thou endure and suffer pains. Do thou,
therefore, and my other servants, carry yourselves with true
patience, with grief for your sins, and with love of virtue for
the glory and praise of my name. If thou actest thus, I will satisfy
for thy sins, and for those of my other servants, inasmuch as the
pains which thou wilt endure will be sufficient, through the vir-
tue of love, for satisfaction and reward, both in thee and in
others. In thyself thou wilt receive the fruit of life, when the
stains of thy ignorance are effaced, and I shall not remember
that thou ever didst offend me. In others I will satisfy through
the love and affection which thou hast to me, and I will give to
them according to the disposition with which they will receive
my gifts. In particular, to those who dispose themselves, humbly
and with reverence, to receive the doctrine of my servants, will
I remit both guilt and penalty, since they will thus come to true
knowledge and contrition for their sins. So that, by means of
prayer, and their desire of serving me, they receive the fruit of
grace, receiving it humbly in greater or less degree, according
to the extent of their exercise of virtue and grace in general. I
say, then, that through thy desires they will receive remission
for their sins. See, however, the condition, namely, that their
obstinacy should not be so great in their despair as to condemn
them through contempt of the blood, which, with such sweet-
ness, has restored them.
"What fruit do they receive?
"The fruit which I destine for them, constrained by the prayers
of my servants, is that I give them light, and that I wake up in
them the hound of conscience,25 and make them smell the odor
of virtue, and take delight in the conversation of my servants.
"Sometimes I allow the world to show them what it is, so
that, feeling its diverse and various passions, they may know
how little stability it has, and may come to lift their desire be-
yond it, and seek their native country, which is the eternal life.
And so I draw them by these, and by many other ways, for the
eye cannot see, nor the tongue relate, nor the heart think, how
many are the roads and ways which I use, through love alone,
to lead them back to grace, so that my truth may be fulfilled in
them. I am constrained to do so by that inestimable love of
mine, by which I created them, and by the love, desire, and
grief of my servants, since I am no despiser of their tears, and
25
/ Cane delta Coscientia.
sweat, and humble prayers; rather I accept them, inasmuch as
I am he who giveth them this love for the good of souls and grief
for their loss. But I do not, in general, grant to these others for
whom they pray satisfaction for the penalty due to them but
only for their guilt, since they are not disposed, on their side, to
receive with perfect love my love, and that of my servants. They
do not receive their grief with bitterness, and perfect contrition
for the sins they have committed, but with imperfect love and
contrition, wherefore they have not, as others, remission of the
penalty, but only of the guilt; because such complete satisfac-
tion requires proper dispositions on both sides, both in him that
gives and him that receives. Wherefore, since they are imperfect,
they receive imperfectly the perfection of the desires of those
who offer them to me, for their sakes, with suffering; and, inas-
much as I told thee that they do receive remission, this is indeed
the truth, that, by that way which I have told thee, that is, by
the light of conscience, and by other things, satisfaction is made
for their guilt; for, beginning to learn, they vomit forth the
corruption of their sins, and so receive the gift of grace.
"These are they who are in a state of ordinary charity, where-
fore, if they have trouble, they receive it in the guise of correc-
tion, and do not resist overmuch the clemency of the Holy
Spirit, but, coming out of their sin, they receive the life of grace.
But if, like fools, they are ungrateful, and ignore me and the
labors of my servants done for them, that which was given them,
through mercy, turns to their own ruin and judgment, not
through defect of mercy, nor through defect of him who im-
plored the mercy for the ingrate, but solely through the man's
own wretchedness and hardness, with which with the hands of
his free will, he has covered his heart, as it were, with a diamond,
which, if it be not broken by the blood, can in no way be
broken.26 And yet, I say to thee, that, in spite of his hardness of
heart, he can use his free will while he has time, praying for the
blood of my Son, and let him with his own hand apply it to the
diamond over his heart and shiver it, and he will receive the im-
print of the blood which has been paid for him. But if he delays
until the time be past, he has no remedy, because he has not
used the dowry which I gave him: giving him memory so as to
remember my benefits; intellect, so as to see and know the
truth; affection, so that he should love me, the Eternal Truth,
whom he would have known through the use of his intellect.
26 Del diamante, che se non si rompe col Sangue, non si pub rompere.
This is the dowry which I have given you all, and which ought
to render fruit to me, the Father; but, if a man barters and sells
it to the devil, the devil, if he choose, has a right to seize on
everything that he has acquired in this life. And, filling his
memory with the delights of sin, and with the recollection of
shameful pride, avarice, self-love, hatred, and unkindness to his
neighbors (being also a persecutor of my servants), with these
miseries he has obscured his intellect by his disordinate will.
Let such as these receive the eternal pains, with their horrible
stench, inasmuch as they have not satisfied for their sins with
contrition and displeasure of their guilt. Now, therefore, thou
hast understood how suffering satisfies for guilt by perfect con-
trition, not through the finite pain; and such as have this con-
trition in perfection satisfy not only for the guilt, but also for the
penalty which follows the guilt, as I have already said when
speaking in general; and if they satisfy for the guilt alone, that is,
if, having abandoned mortal sin, they receive grace, and have
not sufficient contrition and love to satisfy for the penalty also,
they go to the pains of purgatory, passing through the second
and last means of satisfaction.
"So thou seest that satisfaction is made, through the desire of
the soul united to me, who am the Infinite Good, in greater or
less degree, according to the measure of love, obtained by the
desire and prayer of the recipient. Wherefore, with that very
same measure with which a man measures to me dost he receive
in himself the measure of my goodness. Labor, therefore, to in-
crease the fire of thy desire, and let not a moment pass without
crying to me with humble voice, or without continual prayers
before me for thy neighbors. I say this to thee and to the father
of thy soul, whom I have given thee on earth. Bear yourselves
with manful courage, and make yourselves dead to all your own
sensuality."27
5. How Very Pleasing to God Is the Willing Desire to Suffer for

Him
"Very pleasing to me, dearest daughter, is the willing desire
to bear every pain and fatigue, even unto death, for the salva-
tion of souls, for the more the soul endures, the more she shows
that she loves me; loving me, she comes to know more of my
truth, and the more she knows, the more pain and intolerable
grief she feels at the offenses committed against me. Thou didst
27
Che virilmente portiate, e morta sia ogni propria Sensnalitd.
ask me to sustain thee, and to punish the faults of others in thee,
and thou didst not remark that thou wast really asking for love,
light, and knowledge of the truth, since I have already told thee
that by the increase of love grows grief and pain, wherefore he
that grows in love grows in grief. Therefore, I say to you all,
that you should ask, and it will be given you, for I deny nothing
to him who asks of me in truth. Consider that the love of divine
charity is so closely joined in the soul with perfect patience, that
neither can leave the soul without the other. For this reason (if
the soul elect to love me) she should elect to endure pains for me
in whatever mode or circumstance I may send them to her.
Patience cannot be proved in any other way than by suffering,
and patience is united with love as has been said. Therefore
bear yourselves with manly courage, for, unless you do so, you
will not prove yourselves to be spouses of my truth, and faithful
children, nor of the company of those who relish the taste of my
honor, and the salvation of souls."
6. How Every Virtue and Every Defect Is Obtained by Means of

Our Neighbor
"I wish also that thou shouldest know that every virtue is ob-
tained by means of thy neighbor28 and, likewise, every defect;
he, therefore, who stands in hatred of me does an injury to his
neighbor, and to himself, who is his own chief neighbor, and
this injury is both general and particular. It is general because
you are obliged to love your neighbor as yourself, and, loving
him, you ought to help him spiritually, with prayer, counseling
him with words, and assisting him both spiritually and tempo-
rally, according to the need in which he may be—at least with
your good will if you have nothing else. A man, therefore, who
does not love does not help him, and thereby does himself an
injury; for he cuts off from himself grace, and injures his neigh-
bor, by depriving him of the benefit of the prayers and of the
sweet desires that he is bound to offer for him to me. Thus, every
act of help that he performs should proceed from the charity
which he has through love of me. And every evil, also, is done
by means of his neighbor, for, if he do not love me, he cannot be
in charity with his neighbor; and thus all evils derive from the
soul's deprivation of love of me and her neighbor; whence, inas-
much as such a man does no good, it follows that he must do
28
Col mezzo del Prossimo.
evil. To whom does he evil? First of all to himself, and then to

his neighbor—not against me, for no evil can touch me, except
in so far as I count done to me that which he does to himself. To
himself he does the injury of sin, which deprives him of grace,
and worse than this he cannot do to his neighbor. Him he in-
jures in not paying him the debt, which he owes him, of love,
with which he ought to help him by means of prayer and holy
desire offered to me for him. This is an assistance which is owed
in general to every rational creature; but its usefulness is more
particular when it is done to those who are close at hand, under
your eyes, as to whom, I say, you are all obliged to help one
another by word and doctrine, and the example of good works,
and in every other respect in which your neighbor may be seen
to be in need; counseling him exactly as you would yourselves,
without any passion of self-love; and he (a man not loving God)
does not do this, because he has no love toward his neighbor;
and, by not doing it, he does him, as thou seest, a special injury.
And he does him evil, not only by not doing him the good that
he might do him, but by doing him a positive injury and a con-
stant evil. In this way sin causes a physical and a mental injury.
The mental injury is already done when the sinner has con-
ceived pleasure in the idea of sin, and hatred of virtue, that is,
pleasure from sensual self-love, which has deprived him of the
affection of love which he ought to have toward me, and his
neighbor, as has been said. And after he has conceived, he brings
forth one sin after another against his neighbor, according to the
diverse ways which may please his perverse sensual will. Some-
times it is seen that he brings forth cruelty, and that both in
general and in particular.
"His general cruelty is to see himself and other creatures in
danger of death and damnation through privation of grace, and
so cruel is he that he reminds neither himself nor others of the
love of virtue and hatred of vice. Being thus cruel, he may wish
to extend his cruelty still farther, that is, not content with not
giving an example of virtue, the villain also usurps the office of
the demons, tempting, according to his power, his fellow crea-
tures to abandon virtue for vice; that is cruelty toward his
neighbors, for he makes himself an instrument to destroy life
and to give death. Cruelty toward the body has its origin in
cupidity, which not only prevents a man from helping his
neighbor but causes him to seize the goods of others, robbing
the poor creatures; sometimes this is done by the arbitrary use
of power, and at other times by cheating and fraud, his neighbor
28O CATHERINE OF SIENA
being forced to redeem, to his own loss, his own goods, and often
indeed his own person.
"Oh, miserable vice of cruelty, which will deprive the man
who practices it of all mercy, unless he turn to kindness and
benevolence toward his neighbor!
"Sometimes the sinner brings forth insults on which often fol-
lows murder; sometimes also impurity against the person of his
neighbor, by which he becomes a brute beast full of stench, and
in this case he does not poison one only, but whoever approaches
him, with love or in conversation, is poisoned.
"Against whom does pride bring forth evils? Against the
neighbor, through love of one's own reptuation, whence comes
hatred of the neighbor, reputing one's self to be greater than he;
and in this way is injury done to him. And if a man be in a posi-
tion of authority, he produces also injustice and cruelty and be-
comes a retailer of the flesh of men. Oh, dearest daughter, grieve
for the offense against me, and weep over these corpses, so that,
by prayer, the bands of their death may be loosened!
"See now, that, in all places and in all kinds of people, sin is
always produced against the neighbor, and through his medium;
in no other way could sin ever be committed either secret or
open. A secret sin is when you deprive your neighbor of that
which you ought to give him; an open sin is where you perform
positive acts of sin, as I have related to thee. It is, therefore, in-
deed the truth that every sin done against me is done through
the medium of the neighbor."
7. How Virtues Are Accomplished by Means of Our Neighbor, and

How It Is that Virtues Differ to Such an Extent in Creatures
"I have told thee how all sins are accomplished by means of
thy neighbor, through the principles which I exposed to thee,
that is, because men are deprived of the affection of love, which
gives light to every virtue. In the same way self-love, which de-
stroys charity and affection toward the neighbor, is the prin-
ciple and foundation of every evil. All scandals, hatred, cruelty,
and every sort of trouble proceed from this perverse root29 of
self-love, which has poisoned the entire world, and weakened
the mystical body of the holy church, and the universal body of
the believers in the Christian religion; and, therefore, I said to
thee, that it was in the neighbor, that is to say, in the love of him,
29 Perversa radice.
A TREATISE OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE 28l
that all virtues were founded; and, truly, indeed did I say to
thee, that charity gives life to all the virtues, because no virtue
can be obtained without charity, which is the pure love of me.
"Wherefore, when the soul knows herself, as we have said
above, she finds humility and hatred of her own sensual passion,
for she learns the perverse law, which is bound up in her mem-
bers, and which ever fights against the spirit. And, therefore,
arising with hatred of her own sensuality, crushing it under the
heel of reason, with great earnestness, she discovers in herself
the bounty of my goodness, through the many benefits which
she has received from me, all of which she considers again in
herself. She attributes to me, through humility, the knowledge
which she has obtained of herself, knowing that, by my grace, I
have drawn her out of darkness and lifted her up into the light
of true knowledge. When she has recognized my goodness, she
loves it without any medium, and yet at the same time with a
medium, that is to say, without the medium of herself or of any
advantage accruing to herself, and with the medium of virtue,
which she has conceived through love of me, because she sees
that in no other way can she become grateful and acceptable to
me but by conceiving hatred of sin and love of virtue; and, when
she has thus conceived by the affection of love, she immediately
is delivered of fruit for her neighbor, because in no other way
can she act out the truth she has conceived in herself, but, loving
me in truth, in the same truth she serves her neighbor.30
"And it cannot be otherwise, because love of me and of her
neighbor are one and the same thing,31 and so far as the soul
loves me she loves her neighbor, because love toward him issues
from me. This is the means which I have given you, that you
may exercise and prove your virtue therewith; because, inas-
much as you can do me no profit, you should do it to your
neighbor. This proves that you possess me by grace in your soul,
producing much fruit for your neighbor and making prayers to
me, seeking with sweet and amorous desire my honor and the
salvation of souls. The soul, enamored of my truth, never ceases
to serve the whole world in general, and more or less in a par-
ticular case according to the disposition of the recipient and the
ardent desire of the donor, as I have shown above, when I
declared to thee that the endurance of suffering alone, without
desire, was not sufficient to punish a fault.
30 Cf. Dial., c a p . 9 8 ; Let., T . 56, 3 0 1 ; Guigues, op. cit., p p , 278 ff.

31 E una medesima cosa. Cf. Let., T. 242; Dial., 64, 66.
"When she has discovered the advantage of this unitive love

in me, by means of which she truly loves herself, extending her
desire for the salvation of the whole world, thus coming to the
aid of its neediness, she strives, inasmuch as she has done good
to herself by the conception of virtue, from which she has drawn
the life of grace, to fix her eye on the needs of her neighbor in
particular. Wherefore, when she has discovered, through the
affection of love, the state of all rational creatures in general, she
helps those who are at hand, according to the various graces
which I have entrusted to her to administer; one she helps with
doctrine, that is, with words, giving sincere counsel without any
respect of persons; another with the example of a good life, and
this indeed all give to their neighbor, the edification of a holy
and honorable life. These are the virtues, and many others, too
many to enumerate, which are brought forth in the love of the
neighbor; but, although I have given them in such a different
way—that is to say, not all to one, but to one one virtue, and
to another another—it so happens that it is impossible to have
one, without having them all, because all the virtues are bound
together. Wherefore, learn that in many cases I give one virtue,
to be as it were the chief of the others; that is to say, to one I will
give principally love, to another justice, to another humility, to
one a lively faith, to another prudence or temperance or pa-
tience, to another fortitude. These, and many other virtues, I
place, indifferently, in the souls of many creatures; it happens,
therefore, that the particular one so placed in the soul becomes
the principal object of its virtue; the soul disposing herself, for
her chief conversation, to this rather than to other virtues, and,
by the effect of this virtue, the soul draws to herself all the other
virtues, which, as has been said, are all bound together in the
affection of love; and so with many gifts and graces of virtue,
and not only in the case of spiritual things but also of tem-
poral. I use the word 'temporal' for the things necessary to the
physical life of man; all these I have given indifferently, and I
have not placed them all in one soul, in order that man should,
perforce, have material for love of his fellow. I could easily have
created men possessed of all that they should need both for
body and soul, but I wish that one should have need of the
other, and that they should be my ministers to administer the
graces and the gifts that they have received from me. Whether
man will or no, he cannot help making an act of love.32 It is
32 Che voglia VUomo, 0 nd, non pud fare, che per forza non usi Vatto delta Caritd.
Cf. Let., T. 301, 304.
true, however, that that act, unless made through love of me,
profits him nothing so far as grace is concerned. See, then, that
I have made men my ministers, and placed them in diverse
stations and various ranks, in order that they may make use of
the virtue of love.
"Wherefore, I show you that in my house are many mansions,
and that I wish for no other thing than love, for in the love of
me is fulfilled and completed the love of the neighbor, and the
law observed. For he only can be of use in his state of life who is
bound to me with this love."
8. How Virtues Are Proved and Fortified by Their Contraries

"Up to the present, I have taught thee how a man may serve
his neighbor, and manifest, by that service, the love which he
has toward me.
"Now I wish to tell thee, further, that a man proves his
patience on his neighbor when he receives injuries from
him.
"Similarly, he proves his humility on a proud man, his faith
on an infidel, his true hope on one who despairs, his justice on
the unjust, his kindness on the cruel, his gentleness and be-
nignity on the irascible. Good men produce and prove all their
virtues on their neighbor, just as perverse men all their vices;
thus, if thou consider well, humility is proved on pride in this
way. The humble man extinguishes pride, because a proud man
can do no harm to a humble one; neither can the infidelity of a
wicked man, who neither loves me nor hopes in me, when
brought forth against one who is faithful to me, do him any
harm; his infidelity does not diminish the faith or the hope of
him who has conceived his faith and hope through love of me;
it rather fortifies it, and proves it in the love he feels for his
neighbor. For he sees that the infidel is unfaithful because he is
without hope in me, and in my servant, because he does not love
me, placing his faith and hope rather in his own sensuality,
which is all that he loves. My faithful servant does not leave him
because he does not faithfully love me, or because he does not
constantly seek, with hope in me, for his salvation, inasmuch as
he sees clearly the causes of his infidelity and lack of hope. The
virtue of faith is proved in these and other ways. Wherefore, to
those who need the proof of it, my servant proves his faith in
himself and in his neighbor, and so justice is not diminished by
the wicked man's injustice, but is rather proved—that is to say,
the justice of a just man. Similarly, the virtues of patience, be-
nignity, and kindness manifest themselves in a time of wrath by
the same sweet patience in my servants, and envy, vexation, and
hatred demonstrate their love, and hunger, and desire for the
salvation of souls. I say also to thee that not only is virtue proved
in those who render good for evil, but that many times a good
man gives back fiery coals of love which dispel the hatred and
rancor of heart of the angry, and so from hatred often comes
benevolence, and that this is by virtue of the love and perfect
patience which is in him who sustains the anger of the wicked,
bearing and supporting his defects. If thou wilt observe the vir-
tues of fortitude and perseverance, these virtues are proved by
the long endurance of the injuries and detractions of wicked
men, who, whether by injuries or by flattery, constantly en-
deavor to turn a man aside from following the road and the doc-
trine of truth. Wherefore, in all these things, the virtue of forti-
tude, conceived within the soul, perseveres with strength, and
in addition proves itself externally upon the neighbor, as I have
said to thee; and, if fortitude were not able to make that good
proof of itself, being tested by many contrarieties, it would not
be a serious virtue founded in truth,"
X
Jan Van Ruysbroeck (1293-1381)

INTRODUCTION
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
r UYSBROECK, BORN IN 1293, WENT AT ELEVEN

years of age to nearby Brussels, where he was assisted by
-his uncle, a canon of St. Gudule, in his early studies.
These doubtless involved the medieval Latin and German mys-
tics. Ordained around 1317, he received the title of vicar or
chaplain to the clergy of St. Gudule, the collegial church. Dur-
ing some twenty-five years of such service, he came into conflict
with the Brethren of the Free Spirit, the Beghards, Beguines,
and other like groups, whom he was to challenge in later writ-
ings. In 1343, together with his uncle Jan Hinckaert, and a
priest, Francis van Coudenberg, he helped to establish a com-
munity of contemplatives at Groenendael. This group, early in
contact with the Victorines at Paris, eventually came under the
rule of the Augustinian canons, with Coudenberg as provost and
Ruysbroeck as prior. Here, until his death in 1381, Ruys-
broeck fostered in his books and in his life the blending of con-
templation and action, the union of canonical hours and work-
ing devotion. Poetic vision and service to others went hand in
hand in this "God-seeing life." Not only to Gerard Groote, a
founder of the Brethren of the Common Life, but to many others
also, he gave the witness of Christian love "that cannot be
lazy."
A critical study of MS. and printed sources concerning the
life and works of Ruysbroeck is M. D'Asbeck, Documents relatifs
d Ruysbroeck, Leroux, Paris, 1931. A pivotal work was W. De-
Vreese, De Handschnften van Jan van Ruusbroec's Werken, 2 vols.,
285
286 JAN VAN RUYSBROECK
Ghent, 1900—1902. The Werken were first critically set forth by
J. B. David, in 6 vols., Ghent, 1858-1868. Ancient texts by H.
Pomerius were edited as De origine monasterii Viridisvallis una cum
vitis B. Joannis Rusbrochii, in Analecta Bollandiana, Vol. 4 (1885),
pp. 257 ff. A famous Latin translation of the works by L. Surius,
the Opera omnia, appeared at Cologne in four editions from 1552
to 1692. The fundamental study, Jan Van Ruusbroec, Leven en
Werken, Antwerp, Amsterdam, and Malines, 1931, included
studies of Ruysbroeck's mysticism by L. Reypens and an in-
valuable bibliography in all languages. The next year there be-
gan to appear the definitive Ruusbroec Werken, 4 vols., with key
editing by Dr. J. B. Poukens, S. J., and Dr. L. Reypens, S. J.—
revised 1944—. Vanden Blinckenden Steen, or The Sparkling Stone,
is Vol. I l l , 1947, pp. 3-41. Modern translations include the
CEuvres de Ruysbroeck VAdmirable, done from the Flemish by the
Benedictines of Saint-Paul de Wisques, 1912—. Quite useful
is J. A. Bizet, Ruysbroeck, CEuvres choisies, Aubier, Paris, 1946.
Highly pertinent English translations from the Flemish are The
Adornment of the Spiritual Marriage; The Sparkling Stone; The Book
of Supreme Truth, translated by C. A. Wynschenk Dom, John M.
Watkins, London, 1916, 1951; The Seven Steps of the Ladder of
Spiritual Love, tr. by F. Sherwood Taylor, Dacre Press, West-
minster, 1944, 1952; and The Spiritual Espousals, tr. by Eric
Colledge, Faber & Faber, Ltd., London, 1952. Valuable studies
are E. Underhill, Ruysbroeck, London, 1914; A. W. D'Aygalliers,
Ruysbroeck VAdmirable, Paris, 1923; and, though perhaps exag-
gerating the Neoplatonic influences, M. D'Asbeck, La mystique
de Ruysbroeck F Admirable, Leroux, Paris, 1930. St. Axters, La
spiritualite des pays-bas, J. Vrin, Paris, 1948, is suggestive, as is
A. Hyma, The Brethren of the Common Life, Wm. B. Eerdmans
Publishing Company, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 1950. On the
Gerson issue, see A. Combes, Essai sur la critique de Ruysbroeck par
Gerson, 2 vols., Paris, 1945, 1948. Of further significance are J.
Stelzenberger, Die Mystik des Johannes Gerson, Breslau, 1928, and
the references to source texts and literature in J. L. Connolly,
John Gerson, Reformer and Mystic, B. Herder, St. Louis, 1928.
SYNOPSIS
Ruysbroeck's mysticism shows intimate relationship, at cer-
tain points, with the Neoplatonists, Augustine, the Victorines,
and the Rhenish school. However much he may have owed to
the Eckhartian stimulus, he certainly qualified the more dan-
INTRODUCTION 287
gerous implications of his earlier writings in his later books.
Some of his expressions in the third part of his Adornment of the
Spiritual Marriage had provoked sincere, if not wholly justifiable,
attacks by the redoubtable Jean Gerson. There had been rela-
tively unguarded statements, for instance, concerning the pos-
sibility, and the face-to-face immediacy, of the unitive vision.
This contemplative view of the divine essence in this present life
had prompted various charges, that of pantheism included. To
whatever extent modifications may have been elicited by the
discussions of 1330-1336 and the intervention of Pope Benedict
XII, these shifts of form and interpretation were introduced in
The Sparkling Stone and in The Book of Supreme Truth. In the
former (ch. 10), he stressed the necessity of man's remaining
"eternally other than God, and distinct from him." In the latter
(ch. 2), he asserted that "no creature is able to be or to become
holy to the point of losing his created nature or to become God."
The Sparkling Stone, for its part, summarizes in its first nine chap-
ters the first two books of the Spiritual Marriage. Chapters 10-14
recapitulate the matter of the Spiritual Marriage's third book,
that is, contemplation as such.
Three traditional elements in Ruysbroeck that are placed in
a distinctive synthesis are exemplarism, introversion, and the
life of union.1
The basis of exemplarism is in Trinitarian doctrine. The
divine life is a movement of flux and reflux, expansion and con-
traction, originating in the unity of nature from which there
proceed the three Persons; theirs too is a return to unity in a
common fruition^The eternal life of the creature, according to
exemplarist ideas, participates in this flux and reflux.
Even the structure of the soul is calculated on the divine
model. This is, of course, Augustinian doctrine. The three
major faculties—memory, intelligence, and will—take their
natural origin from the unity of the spirit. This unity must be
possessed supernaturally. Man finally descends into himself.
There he discovers in the ground of the soul the image of God.
The soul must associate itself with the life of the three divine
Persons until it attains, at the summit of contemplation, to "the
union without difference," though not without otherness. Thus
joined with the divine essence, it comes to "possession." This is
the much emphasized "common life" which is not possible
"without the exercise of love." By it the human life is led into
* DS II, 1999. Cf. Reypens, "Connaissance mystique de Dieu," DS, Fasc.
20-21 (1955), cols. 906-09.
288 JAN VAN &UYSBROECK
the Trinitarian life itself. It is on this "common life" that The
Sparkling Stone (ch. 14) and The Seven Steps of the Ladder of
Spiritual Love have such eloquent resumes.2
Contemplation clearly constitutes for Ruysbroeck, then* as
for the Rhineland school, the summit of an experience, the
description of which is both dogmatically based and specula-
tively developed. Nor is it lacking in deeply affective elements.
It is not quite so intellectualized as that of Eckhart. Perhaps
Ruysbroeck is less concerned than Eckhart or Tauler with the
technical aspects of spiritual detachment. He recalls for us the
experiential qualities of Suso in a more rarefied form.3
As regards the role of introversion, it has been noted how the
medieval world had lost the sense of introspective method in-
augurated by Augustine and his Confessions; how, rather than
observing in their empirical reality the successive transforma-
tions which mark the progress of the soul in its narrow way,
many mystics had had progressive recourse to allegorical grada-
tions. Such were the references to the ladder of Jacob, the de-
grees of Solomon's throne, the conventional appeal to the six
degrees of charity, the seven virtues, and the three ways. Ruys-
broeck did not disparage these; in fact he too utilized them as in
his own Ladder. Yet in his personal experience, as in his capital-
ization of Catholic tradition, he recapitulated the Augustinian
sense of interiority.4
One may anticipate in Augustine's Confessions (VII, x, 16),
the introspective method later reapplied by Ruysbroeck* Pre-
sumably from his study of Platonist and Neoplatonist books,
Augustine had learned the art of introversion. He had achieved
with their help a fleeting intellectual contemplation of God; in
his own words, "a hurried vision of That Which Is." Admon-
ished to return into himself, he entered his own secret closet of
the soul, guided by the Lord. There he beheld "the Light that
never changes, above the eye of my soul, above the intelli-
gence." Scattered but cumulative references to introversion in
Ruysbroeck bear out this Augustinian emphasis in his own
writings. Here the attention turns inward "from the distractions
2 The Ladder, 6th and 7th steps, pp. 55 f£; Bizet, op. cit., pp. 68 ff. On Ruys-
broeckJs synthesis of the soul's structure and of introversion in relation to
Neoplatonist, Augustinian, and Rhenish currents, see Father Reypens,
"Ame (Structure)," in DS I, 453-55.
3 DS II, 1999-2000.
* Bizet, op. cit., pp. 64 ff.; St. Axters, op. cit., p. 53; The Sparkling Stone, chs.
INTRODUCTION 289
5
of the sense world." Consciousness enters "into the super-
sensuous regions beyond thought." It retreats from the fringes
of the sense world to the center of being and the souls' Ground
"where human personality buds forth from the Essential
world."6
Ruysbroeck's stages of mystical experience are readily identi-
fiable. The active life presents the way of purgation and ethical
purification. Here is the range of self-disciplined service and
self-conquest. The interior life is one of illumination and intel-
lectual purification as over against the ethical purification of the
active life. The aim here is right vision and right thought, even
as that of right conduct preponderates in the active way. The
interior life in its more advanced stages opens up the route to
union and contemplation. The apex of the unitive life, how-
ever, is found in what may be denominated the "superessential
life."*
The emphasis on the "common" or "practical" life is found
most beautifully stated in The Sparkling Stone, chapter 14.
Hardly surpassable in Ruysbroeck's works are the first and
second "Moments" of the contemplative life as they are set
forth in The Seven Steps. Here also the divine-human respiration,
flux, and reflux, as well as the "common life," have moving
analysis. "Between action and rest live love and fruition," is only
one of his choice lines. The character of the common, super-
essential life there depicted should be put alongside that of The
Spiritual Espousals and The Sparkling Stone.*
Ruysbroeck, then, treats of mystical experience in terms of
three unities, each facilitated through one of three ways.9 The
lower, corporeal unity, with its practice of external works, goes
the way of the active life. The spiritual unity, expressing itself by
the theological virtues and the imitation of Jesus Christ, follows
in the way of the interior life. The sublime unity, which makes
us to repose in God above all thought or intention, is the super-
natural life with its end in contemplation. The active life,
5 6
Underhill, Ruysbroeck, pp. 152, 80. Ibid., p. 146.
7 I.e., "more than being"—Overwesen. Cf. Underhill, Ruysbroeck, pp. 164 ff.
On this "superessential contemplation," see The Spiritual Espousals, Book
III, p. 179; The Adornment of the Spiritual Marriage, p. 167; Werken, Vol. I,
p. 239,11. 7-8: eenen overweselijcken scouwene. . . .
8 See Golledge, The Spiritual Espousals, pp. 36, 48, 132, 158-60, on the "com-
mon life"; The Ladder, pp. 55-63, especially 58, etc.
9 For the following, see the source references in Petry, "Social Responsibil-
ity," Church History, Vol. 21, pt. 1, pp. 12-13, 18-19. Cf. D'Aygalliers, op.
cit., pp. 286 ff.
19—L.M.M.
290 JAN VAN RUYSBROEGK
claiming virtuous men of God, will permit a foretaste of the
divine union—the union of intermediary or with means. The
interior life brings God and creature together in a union without
intermediary or means. In the contemplative life there is con-
summated a union without distinction or differences, one such
as Christ spoke of in his consecratory prayer. This is a time of
ecstasy followed by knowledge, love, and jubilation. Still, it is
no sheerly passive or quietist state. Between the writing of The
Adornment of the Spiritual Marriage and that of The Sparkling Stone,
Ruysbroeck has come to guard ever more closely against pan-
theistic encroachments and heretical "passivism." More and
more he emphasizes "practical life." Those who multiply works,
however, and lose themselves therein, belong in the same cate-
gory with people who isolate themselves in contemplative re-
pose, away from practical demands.
Invoking the spiritual law of aspiration and expiration, God
draws us near to himself—beyond any holding back; but, after
this God's Holy Spirit breathes us out again, for the practice of
love and good works. As in nature, so here too, we exhale the
old and inhale the fresh air. One enters inactive joys; then goes
out to practice good works, remaining joined always to the
Spirit of God.
Significantly enough, this practical life, distinguished by
Ruysbroeck from the active, is denominated the "common."
The active life, inspired by grace, is essentially the work of the
human will. The common life, on the contrary, depends on God
alone. The eloquent fourteenth chapter of The Sparkling Stone is
entitled: "Of That Common Life That Comes from the Con-
templation and Fruition of God." Here Ruysbroeck balances
the active and the contemplative. As Underhill says, "His rap-
turous ascents toward divine Reality were compensated by the
eager and loving interest with which he turned toward the
world of men." 10
Likewise, it is correct to say that Ruysbroeck's mysticism and
ecclesiology support and clarify each other. He knows the
human faults and schismatic shames of Mother Church. But he
also knows her Petrine foundation, her apostolic power and
order, and her ultimate invincibility. He believes in her hier-
archy, her priesthood, and her sacraments. These last are the
channels of God's love, the visible form of invisible grace. They
are another coming of Christ the Bridegroom that takes place
10
Underhill, introduction to Spiritual Marriage, pp. xv-xvi.
INTRODUCTION 2()I
every day. To be desired with a loving heart, the sacrament is

needful for him who would "remain steadfast and go forward in
eternal life." From Mother Church, Ruysbroeck accepts his
commission to serve world humanity. Such a man truly goes
forth, after the fourfold way he sets down: namely, toward
Christ and all saints; toward sinners and all perverted men;
toward purgatory; toward himself and all good men.
Jan Van Ruysbroeck fi2gj-ij8ij
THE SPARKLING S T O N E "
THE TEXT
Prologue
The man who would live in the most perfect state of holy
church must be a good and zealous man; an inward and ghostly
man; an uplifted and God-seeing man; and an outflowing man
to all in common.12 Whenever these four things are together in
a man, then his state is perfect; and through the increase of
grace he shall continually grow and progress in all virtues, and
in the knowledge of truth, before God and before all men.
Chapter I
Through Three Things a Man Becomes Good
Hear now three things that constitute a good man. The first,
which a good man must have, is a clean conscience without re-
proach of mortal sin. And therefore whosoever wishes to become
a good man must examine and prove himself with due discern-
ment, from that time onward when he could first have com-
mited sin. And from all these sins he must purge himself, accord-
ing to the precept and the custom of holy church.
The second thing that pertains to a good man is that he must
in all things be obedient to God, and to holy church, and to his
own proper convictions. And to each of these three he must be
11
The translation from the Flemish is that of G. A. Wynschenk Dom, edited
by Evelyn Underhill, John of Ruysbroeck: The Adornment of the Spiritual
Marriage . . . The Sparkling Stone . . . The Book of Supreme Truth, London,
1916, 1951, pp. 181-221. Used by permission of the publisher, John
Maurice Watkins. The Sparkling Stone, i.e., Vanden Blinckenden Steen, is Vol.
I l l , pp. 3-41, in the Werken.
12
The classification of The Adornment of the Spiritual Marriage, i.e., Die
Geestelike Brulocht, in the Werken, Vol. I, pp. 103 ff.
292
THE SPARKLING STONE 293
equally obedient: so shall he live without care and doubt, and

shall ever abide without inward reproach in all his deeds.
The third thing that behoves every good man is that in all his
deeds he should have in mind, above all else, the glory of God.
And if it happens that by reason of his business or the multi-
plicity of his works, he has not always God before his eyes, yet
at least there should be established in him the intention and
desire to live according to the dearest will of God.
Behold, these three things, when they are possessed in this
way, make a man good. And whosoever lacks any one of these
three is neither good nor in the grace of God; but whenever a
man resolves in his heart to fulfill these three points, how wicked
soever he may have been before, in that very instant he becomes
good, and is susceptible of God, and filled with the grace of God.
Chapter II
Through Three Things a Man Becomes Inward
If, further, this good man would become an inward and
ghostly man, he needs must have three further things. The first
is a heart unencumbered with images13; the second is spiritual
freedom in his desires; the third is the feeling of inward union
with God.
Now let everyone who thinks himself to be ghostly observe
himself. He who would have a heart void of images may not
possess anything with affection, nor may he cling to anyone, or
have intercourse with him with attachment of the will; for all
intercourse and all affection which do not aim purely at the
honor of God bring images into a man's heart, since they are
born, not of God, but of the flesh. And so if a man would be-
come spiritual, he must forsake all fleshly lusts and loves and
must cleave with longing and love to God alone, and thus pos-
sess him. And through this, all imaginations and all inordinate
love toward creatures are cast out. And this loving possession of
God makes a man inwardly free from ungodly images; for God
is a Spirit, of whom no one can make to himself a true image.
Certainly in this exercise a man should lay hold of good images
to help him; such as the Passion of our Lord and all those things
that may stir him to greater devotion. But in the possession of
God, the man must sink down to that imageless nudity which is
13 Cf. the Spiritual Marriage, Bk. I I , chs. 1-4; Werken, Vol. I, pp. 144 ff.
294 JAN VAN
RUYSBROECK
God; and this is the first condition, and the foundation, of a
ghostly life.
The second condition is inward freedom. Through this, the
man should be able to raise himself toward God in all inward
exercises, free from images and encumbrances; that is, in thanks-
giving and praise, in worship, in devout prayer and fervent love,
and in all those things that may be done by longing and love
with the help of the grace of God and through inward zeal in all
ghostly exercises.
Through this inward exercise, he reaches the third state;
which is that he feels a ghostly union with God. Whosoever then
has, in his inward exercise, an imageless and free ascent unto
his God, and means nought else but the glory of God, must taste
of the goodness of God; and he must feel from within a true
union with God. And in this union the inward and spiritual life
is made perfect; for in this union the desirous power is perpetu-
ally enticed anew and stirred to new inward activity. And by
each act the spirit rises upward to a new union. And so activity
and union perpetually renew themselves; and this perpetual re-
newal in activity and in union is a ghostly life. And so you are
now able to see how a man becomes good through the moral
virtues and an upright intention; and how he may become
ghostly through the inward virtues and union with God. But
without these said points he can neither be good nor ghostly.
Chapter III
Through Three Things a Man Becomes God-seeing
Further, you must know that if this ghostly man would now
become a God-seeing man, he needs must have three other
things. The first is the feeling that the foundation of his being is
abysmal,14 and he should possess it in this manner; the second
is that his inward exercise should be wayless; the third is that
his indwelling should be a divine fruition.
Now understand, you who would live in the spirit, for I am
speaking to no one else. The union with God which a spiritual
man feels, when the union is revealed to the spirit as being
abysmal—that is, measureless depth, measureless height, meas-
ureless length, and measureless breadth—in this manifestation
the spirit perceives that through love it has plunged itself into
14 Cf. Eckhart, etc., on "desert" and "abyss."
the depth and has ascended into the height and escaped into
the length; and it feels itself to be wandering in the breadth, and
to dwell in a knowledge which is ignorance. And through this
intimate feeling of union, it feels itself to be melting into the
Unity; and, through dying to all things, into the life of God.
And there it feels itself to be one life with God. And this is the
foundation, and the first point, of the God-seeing life.
And from this there arises the second point, which is an exer-
cise above reason and without condition: for the divine Unity,
of which every God-seeing spirit has entered into possession in
love, eternally draws and invites the divine Persons and all lov-
ing spirits into its Self. And this inward drawing is felt by each
lover, more or less, according to the measure of his love and the
manner of his exercise. And whosoever yields himself to this in-
drawing, and keeps himself therein, cannot fall into mortal sin.
But the God-seeing man who has forsaken self and all things,
and does not feel himself drawn away because he no longer pos-
sesses anything as his own, but stands empty of all, he can always
enter, naked and unencumbered with images, into the inmost
part of his spirit. There he finds revealed an eternal Light, and
in this light, he feels the eternal demand of the divine Unity;
and he feels himself to be an eternal fire of love, which craves
above all else to be one with God. The more he yields to this
indrawing or demand, the more he feels it. And the more he
feels it, the more he craves to be one with God; for it urges him
to pay the debt which is demanded of him by God. This eternal
demand of the divine Unity kindles within the spirit an eternal
fire of love; and though the spirit incessantly pays the debt, an
eternal burning continues within it. For, in the transformation
within the Unity, all spirits fail in their own activity, and feel
nothing else but a burning up of themselves in the simple unity
of God. This simple unity of God none can feel or possess save
he who maintains himself in the immeasurable radiance, and in
the love which is above reason and wayless. In this transcendent
state the spirit feels in itself the eternal fire of love; and in this
fire of love it finds neither beginning nor end, and it feels itself
one with this fire of love. The spirit forever continues to burn in
itself, for its love is eternal; and it feels itself ever more and more
to be burned up in love, for it is drawn and transformed into
the unity of God, where the spirit burns in love. If it observes
itself, it finds a distinction and an otherness between itself and
God; but where it is burned up it is undifferentiated and with-
out distinction, and therefore it feels nothing but unity; for the
2g6 JAN VAN RUYSBROEGK
flame of the love of God consumes and devours all that it can
enfold in its Self.
And thus you may see that the indrawing unity of God is
nought else than the fathomless love which lovingly draws in-
ward, in eternal fruition, the Father and the Son and all that
lives in them. And in this love we shall burn and be burned up
without end, throughout eternity; for herein lies the blessedness
of all spirits. And therefore we must all found our lives upon a
fathomless abyss, that we may eternally plunge into love, and
sink down in the fathomless depth. And with that same love we
shall ascend, and transcend ourselves, in the incomprehensible
height. And in that love which is wayless we shall wander and
stray, and it shall lead us and lose us in the immeasurable
breadth of the love of God. And herein we shall flee forth and
flee out of ourselves, into the unknown raptures of the goodness
and riches of God. And therein we shall melt and be melted
away, and shall eternally wander and sojourn within the glory
of God. Behold! by each of these images I show forth to God-
seeing men their being and their exercise, but none else can
understand them. For the contemplative life cannot be taught.
But where the eternal Truth reveals itself within the spirit, all
that is needful is taught and learned.
Chapter IV
Of the Sparkling Stone, and of the New Name Written in the
Book of the Secrets of God
And therefore the Spirit of our Lord speaks thus in the Book
of the Secrets of God, which Saint John wrote down: TO HIM
THAT OVERCOMETH, He says, that is, to him who over-
cometh and conquereth himself and all else, WILL I GIVE TO
EAT OF THE HIDDEN MANNA, that is, an inward and hid-
den savor and celestial joy; AND WILL GIVE HIM A
SPARKLING STONED AND IN THE STONE A NEW
1 5 Werken, Vol. I l l , p . 9, 11. 18 ff.: ende Ic sal hem gheven . . . een blinckende
steenken, ende in dien steenken eenen nuwen name ghescreven. . . . Surius trans-
lates, Op. om. (1609), cap. I V , p . 514: et dabo ei calculum candidum, & in
calculo nomen novuum scriptum. . . . Ruysbroeck went on to refer to this
little stone as een terdelinc, "a tread-ling," thus suggesting on the Latin side
a relationship "between calculus (pebble), from calx (stone), and calcare (to
tread), from calx (knuckle, heel)." Underhill, ed., The Sparkling Stone, p.
187, note 1. (Euvres, III, p. 238, note 1. Cf. D'Asbeck, La mystique, p. 228.
NAME** WRITTEN, WHICH NO MAN KNOWETH
SAVING HE THAT RECEIVETH IT. This stone is called a
pebble, for it is so small that it does not hurt when one treads on
it. This stone is shining white and red like a flame of fire; and it
is small and round, and smooth all over, and very light. By this
sparkling stone we mean our Lord Christ Jesus, for he is, ac-
cording to his Godhead, a shining forth of the eternal Light, and
an irradiation of the glory of God, and a flawless mirror in
which all things live. Now to him who overcomes and tran-
scends all things, this sparkling stone is given; and with it he
receives light and truth and life. This stone is also like to a fiery
flame, for the fiery love of the Eternal Word has filled the whole
world with love and wills that all loving spirits be burned up to
nothingness in love. This stone is also so small that a man hardly
feels it, even though he treads it underfoot. And that is why it is
called calculus, that is, "treadling." And this is made clear to us
by Saint Paul, where he says that the Son of God EMPTIED
HIMSELF, AND HUMBLED HIMSELF, AND TOOK UP-
ON HIM THE FORM OF A SERVANT, AND BECAME
OBEDIENT UNTO DEATH, EVEN THE DEATH OF THE
CROSS. And He himself spoke through the mouth of the
prophet, saying: I AM A WORM, AND NO MAN; A RE-
PROACH OF MEN, AND DESPISED OF THE PEOPLE.
And he made himself so small in time that the Jews trod him
under their feet. But they felt him not; for, had they recognized
the Son of God, they had not dared to crucify him. He is still
little and despised in all men's hearts that do not love him well.
This noble stone of which I speak is wholly round and smooth
and even all over. That the stone is round teaches us that the
divine Truth has neither beginning nor end; that it is smooth
and even all over teaches us that the divine Truth shall weigh
all things evenly, and shall give to each according to his merits;
and that which he gives shall be with each throughout eternity.
The last property of this stone of which I will speak is that it is
particularly light; for the eternal Word of the Father has no
weight, nevertheless it bears heaven and earth by its strength.
And it is equally near to all things; yet none can attain it, for it
is set on high and goes before all creatures, and reveals itself
where it will and when it wills; and in its lightness our heavy
16 The first name is that given at baptism. The new name is that received in
contemplation and is proportionate to the degree of perfection registered
by each soul. CEuvres, p. 227.
human nature has climbed above all the heavens, and sits
crowned at the right hand of the Father.
Behold, this is the sparkling stone which is given to the God-
seeing man, and in this stone A NEW NAME IS WRITTEN,
WHICH NO MAN KNOWETH SAVING HE THAT
RECEIVETH IT. You should know that all spirits in their
return toward God receive names; each one in particular, ac-
cording to the nobleness of its service and the loftiness of its love.
For only the first name of innocence, which we receive at bap-
tism, is adorned with the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ. And
when we have lost this name of innocence through sin, if we are
willing still to follow God—especially in three works which he
wishes to work in us—we are baptized once more in the Holy
Ghost. And thereby we receive a new name which shall remain
with us throughout eternity.
Chapter V
Of the Works Which God Works in All in Common and of
Five Kinds of Sinners
Hear now what those three works are which our Lord works
in all men if they will submit themselves thereto. The first work
which God works in all men in common consists in his calling
and inviting them all, without exception, to union with himself.
And as long as a sinner does not follow this call, he must lack
all the other gifts which would follow thereafter.
Now I have observed that all sinners may be divided into
five kinds. To the first kind belong all those who are careless of
good works, who through bodily ease and the lust of the senses
prefer to live in worldly employments and in multiplicity of
heart. All such are unfit to receive the grace of God, and even if
they had received it, they would not be able to keep it.
To the second kind belong those who have willingly and wit-
tingly fallen into mortal sin, yet also do good works, and dwell
in the fear and awe of the Lord, and love the just, and desire
their prayers, and put their trust therein. So long, however, as
turning from God and love of sin vanquish and repulse love of
God and turning to God, so long these remain unworthy of the
grace of God.
The third kind of sinners consists in all unbelievers, and those
who err in faith. What good works soever they do, or what lives
soever they lead, without the true faith they cannot please
God; for true faith is the foundation of all holiness and all
virtues.
To the fourth kind belong those who abide in mortal sin with-
out fear and without shame, who care not for God and his gifts,
and neglect all virtues. They hold all ghostly life to be hypocrisy
and deceit; and they hardly listen to all that one may say to
them of God or of the virtues, for they have established them-
selves as though there were no God, nor heaven, nor hell, and
therefore they desire to know of nothing but that which they
now perceive and have before them. Behold, all such are
rejected and despised by God, for they sin against the Holy
Ghost. Yet they may be converted; but this happens with diffi-
culty and seldom.
The fifth kind of sinners are those hypocrites who do outward
good works, not for the glory of God and their own salvation,
but to acquire a name for holiness, or for the sake of some fleet-
ing thing. Though they may appear holy and good from with-
out, within they are false and turned away from God, and they
lack the grace of God and every virtue.
See, I have shown to you five kinds of sinners, who have all
been inwardly called to union with God. But so long as a sinner
remains in the service of sin, so long he remains deaf and blind
and unable to taste, or to feel, all the good that God wishes to
work in him. But whenever a sinner enters into himself, and
considers himself, if he be displeased by his sinful life, then he
draws near to God. But if he would be obedient to the call and
the words of God, he must of his own free will resolve to leave
sin and to do penance. And so he becomes one aim and one will
with God, and receives the grace of God.
And therefore we should all conceive of God in this way: First
of all that, of his free goodness, he calls and invites all men, with-
out distinction, to union with himself; both the good and the
wicked, without exception. Secondly, we should thus compre-
hend the goodness of God; how he through grace flows forth
toward all men who are obedient to the call of God. Thirdly,
we should find and understand clearly in ourselves that we can
become one life and one spirit with God when we renounce
ourselves in every way, and follow the grace of God to the
height whereto it would guide us. For the grace of God works
according to order in every man, after the measure and the way
in which he is able to receive it. And thereby, through the uni-
versal working of the grace of God, every sinner, if he desires it,
receives the discernment and strength which are needful, that he
may leave sin and turn toward virtue. And, through that hidden
co-operation of the grace of God, every good man can overcome
all sins, and can resist all temptations, and can fulfill all virtues,
and can persevere in the highest perfection, if he be in all things
submissive to the grace of God. For all that we are, and all that
we have received, from without and from within, these are all
the free gifts of God; for which we must thank and praise him,
and with which we must serve him, if we are to please him. But
there are many gifts of God which are for the good an aid to,
and a source of, virtue; but for the wicked an aid to, and an
occasion of, sin: such are health, beauty, wisdom, riches, and
worldly dignity. These are the lowest and least precious gifts of
God, which God gives for the benefit of all, to his friends and to
his enemies, to the good and to the wicked. And with these the
good serve God and his friends; but the wicked, their own flesh,
and the devil, and the world.
Chapter VI17
Of the Difference Between the Hirelings and the Faithful Servants
of God
Now you may mark this: that some men receive the gifts of
God as hirelings, but others as faithful servants of God; and
these differ one from another in all inward works, that is, in love
and intention, in feeling, and in every exercise of the inward life.
Now understand this well: all those who love themselves so
inordinately that they will not serve God, save for their own
profit and because of their own reward, these separate them-
selves from God, and dwell in bondage and in their own self-
hood; for they seek, and aim at, their own, in all that they do.
And therefore, with all their prayers and with all their good
works, they seek after temporal things, or maybe strive after
eternal things for their own benefit and for their own profit.
These men are bent upon themselves in an inordinate way; and
that is why they ever abide alone with themselves, for they lack
the true love which would unite them with God and with all his
17 Background for the classification, finally, of "Faithful Servants," "Secret
Friends," and "Hidden Sons," i.e., Ghetrouwe knechte (caps. 6 and 7,
Werken, III, 14 ff.), Heimelijcke vriende (caps. 7 and 8, Werken, III, 16 ff.),
and Verborghene sonen (caps. 8-9, Werken, III, 18 ff.). Cf. D'Asbeck, La
mystique, pp. 229-32. Consult Bizet, (Euvres, pp. 64 ff., on the relation to
purification, illumination, and contemplation.
beloved. And although these men seem to keep within the law
and the commandments of God and of holy church, they do not
keep within the law of love; for all that they do, they do, not out
of love, but from sheer necessity, lest they shall be damned.
And, because they are inwardly unfaithful, they dare not trust
in God; but their whole inward life is doubt and fear, travail
and misery. For they see on the right hand eternal life, and this
they are afraid of losing; and they see on the left hand the eter-
nal pains of hell, and these they are afraid of gaining. But all
their prayers, all their labor and all the good works, whatsoever
they do, to cast out this fear, help them not; for the more in-
ordinately they love themselves, the more they fear hell. And
from this you may learn that their fear of hell springs from self-
love, which seeks its own.
Now the prophet, and also the preacher, say, THE FEAR
OF THE LORD IS THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM; but
by this is meant that fear which is exercised upon the right side,
where one considers the loss of eternal blessedness; for this fear
arises from the natural tendency which every man has in him-
self to be blessed, that is, to see God. And therefore, even
though a man may be faithless to God, yet whenever he truly
observes himself from within, he feels himself to be leaning out
from himself toward that blessedness which is God. And this
blessedness he fears to lose; for he loves himself better than God,
and he loves blessedness wholly for his own sake. And therefore
he dare not trust in God. And yet this is that FEAR OF THE
LORD WHICH IS THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM, and
is a law to the unfaithful servants of God: for it compels a man
to leave sin, and to strive after virtue, and to do good deeds, and
these things prepare a man from without to receive the grace of
God and become a faithful servant.
But from that very hour in which, with God's help, he can
overcome his selfhood—that is to say, when he is so detached
from himself that he is able to leave in the keeping of God every-
thing of which he has need—behold, through doing this he is so
well-pleasing to God that God bestows upon him His grace. And
through grace, he feels true love: and love casts out doubt and
fear, and fills the man with hope and trust, and thus he becomes
a faithful servant, and means and loves God in all that he does.
Behold, this is the difference between the faithful servant and
the hireling.
Chapter VII
Of the Difference Between the Faithful Servants and the Secret
Friends of God
We must now observe the great difference which there is be-
tween the faithful servants and the inward friends of God. For
through grace and the help of God, the faithful servants have
chosen to keep the commandments of God, that is, to be
obedient to God and holy church in all virtues and goodly
behavior: and this is called the outward or active life. But the
inward friends of God choose to follow, besides the command-
ments, the quickening counsels of God; and this is a loving and
inward cleaving to God for the sake of his eternal glory, with a
willing abandonment of all that one may possess outside God
with lust and love. All such friends God calls and invites inward,
and he teaches them the distinctions of inward exercises and
many a hidden way of ghostly life. But he sends his servants out-
ward, that they may be faithful to him and to his house in every
service and in every kind of outward good works.
Behold, thus God gives his grace and his help to each man
according to his fitness; that is, according to the way in which
he is in tune with God, whether in outward good works or in
the inward practice of love. But none can do and feel the inward
exercises unless he be wholly turned inward to God. For as long
as a man is divided of heart, so long he looks outward, and is
unstable of mind, and is easily swayed by joy and grief in tem-
poral things, for these are still alive within him. And though he
may live according to the commandments of God, inwardly he
abides in darkness, and knows not what inward exercises may
be, nor how these should be practiced. But, since he knows and
feels that he has God in mind, and in all his works desires to ful-
fill his dearest will, with this he may be content; for then he
knows himself to be free from hypocrisy in his intention, and
faithful in his service. And by these two things he contents him-
self; and it seems to him that outward good works done with a
pure intention are more holy and more profitable than any in-
ward exercise whatever, for by the help of God he has chosen an
outward active way of virtue. And therefore he had rather exer-
cise himself in the diversity of outward works than serve with in-
ward love that same One for whom he works. And that is the
cause why his mind is more filled with the works which he does
than with God, for whom he does them. And through this tend-
ency to images in his works he remains an outward man, and
is not able to follow the counsels of God; for his exercise is more
outward than inward, more of the senses than of the spirit.
Though he is indeed a faithful servant of God in outward works,
yet that which the secret friends of God experience remains hid-
den from, and unknown to, him. And this is why certain gross
and outward men always condemn and blame the inward and
contemplative men, because they have in mind that these are
idle. And this was also the reason why Martha complained to
our Lord of her sister Mary because she did not help her in
serving; for she believed that she was doing much service and
much usefulness, and that her sister was sitting idle and doing
nothing. But our Lord gave his judgment and decided between
them: he did not blame Martha for her diligence, for her service
was good and useful; but he blamed her for her care, and be-
cause she was troubled and cast down by a multitude of outward
things. And he praised Mary for her inward exercise, and said
that one thing was needful, and that she had chosen the better
part, which should not be taken away from her.
That one thing which is needful for all men is divine love. The
better part is an inward life, with loving adherence to God. This
Mary Magdalen had chosen, and this is chosen by the secret
friends of God. But Martha chose an outward, unenclosed, and
active life; and that is the other part, in which one may serve
God, but which is neither so perfect nor so good. And this part
is chosen out of love by the faithful servants of God.
But there are found some foolish men who would be so in-
ward that they would neither act nor serve, even in those things
of which their neighbor has need. Behold, these are neither
secret friends nor faithful servants of God, but they are alto-
gether false and deceived. For no man can follow the counsels
of God who will not keep His commandments. And therefore all
secret friends of God are also at the same time faithful servants,
wherever this is needful; but all the faithful servants are not
secret friends, for the exercise which belongs thereto is unknown
to them.
This is the difference between the faithful servants and the
secret friends of God.
Chapter VIII
Of the Difference Betweenn the Secret Friends
Frit and the Hidden Sons
of God
But further we find a more subtle and inward difference,
between the secret friends and the hidden sons of God; and yet
both these alike by their inward exercise maintain themselves
in the presence of God. But the friends possess their inwardness
as an attribute, for they choose the loving adherence to God as
best and highest of all that they ever can and will reach: and
that is why they cannot with themselves and their own activity
penetrate to the imageless nudity. For they have, as images and
intermediaries between God and themselves, their own being
and their own activity. And though in their loving adherence
they feel united with God, yet, in this union, they always feel a
difference and an otherness between God and themselves. For
the simple passing into the bare and wayless, they do not know
and love: and therefore their highest inward life ever remains in
reason and in ways. And though they have clear understanding
and discernment of all virtues that may be conceived, the simple
staring with open heart into the divine Brightness remains un-
known of them. And though they feel themselves uplifted to
God in a mighty fire of love, yet they keep something of their
own selfhood, and are not consumed and burned to nothingness
in the unity of love. And though they may desire to live forever-
more in the service of God and to please him eternally, they will
not die in God to all the selfhood of their spirit, and receive
from him a God-formed life. And even though they esteem little
and count as nothing all consolation and all rest which may
come from without, yet they greatly value the gifts of God, and
also their own inward works, and the solace and sweetness
which they feel within; and thus they rest upon the way, and do
not so wholly die to themselves as to be able to attain the highest
beatitude in bare and wayless love. And even if they could prac-
tice and apprehend with clear discernment the perfection of
loving adherence to God, and all the inward and upward going
ways by which one may pass into the presence of God, yet the
wayless passing, and the glorious wandering, in the super-
essential Love, wherein neither end, nor beginning, nor way,
nor manner, can ever be found, would remain hidden from, and
unknown of, them.
And so there is great difference between the secret friends
and the hidden sons of God. For the friends feel nought else but
a loving and living ascent to God in some wise; but, above this,
the sons experience a simple and deathlike passing which is in
no wise.
The inward life of the friends of our Lord is an upward-striv-
ing exercise of love, wherein they desire to remain forever with
their own selfhood; but how one possesses God through bare
love above every exercise, in freedom from one's self, this they
do not feel. Hence they are always striving upward toward God
in true faith, and await God and eternal blessedness with sincere
hope, and are fastened and anchored to God through perfect
charity. And therefore good things have befallen them, for they
please God, and God is complaisant unto them: yet for all this,
they are not assured of eternal life, for they have not entirely
died to themselves and to all selfhood. But all those who abide
and endure in their exercise and in that turning to God which
they have chosen above all else, these God has chosen in eter-
nity, and their names together with their works are written
from eternity in the living book of the providence of God. But
those who choose other things, and turn their inward faces away
from God toward sin, and endure therein (even though their
names were written and known of God because of the temporal
righteousness which they had practiced before), their names
shall be blotted out and erased from the Book of Life because
they did not persevere unto death, and they shall nevermore be
able to taste of God, nor of any fruit which springs from virtue.
And therefore we must needs observe ourselves with diligence,
and adorn our turning toward God, from within with inward
love, and from without with good works: thus we can await in
hope and joy the judgment of God and the coming of our Lord
Jesus Christ. But could we renounce ourselves, and all selfhood
in our works, we should, with our bare and imageless spirit,
transcend all things; and, without intermediary, should be led
of the Spirit of God into the Nudity. And then we should feel
the certainty that we are indeed the sons of God: for AS MANY
AS ARE LED BY THE SPIRIT OF GOD, THEY ARE THE
SONS OF GOD, says the apostle Saint Paul.
Nevertheless, you should know that all good and faithful men
are the sons of God; for they are all born of the Spirit of God,
and the Spirit of God lives in them. And he moves and stirs
them—each according to his own capacity—to virtues and
good works, wherein they are well-pleasing to God. But because
of the inequality of their adherence and their exercises, I call
some the faithful servants of God, and others I call his secret
friends, and others again his hidden sons: nevertheless, they are
all servants, friends, and sons, for they all serve and love and
mean one God, and they live and work only by the free Spirit of
God. And God permits and allows that his friends do and
leave undone all those things which are not contrary to his
20—L.M.M.
commandments; and for those who are bound by the counsels
of God, then this bond also is a commandment. And so no one is
disobedient or contrary to God save he who does not keep His
commandments; but all those things which God commands and
forbids in Scripture, or by holy church, or in our conscience, all
these things we must do and leave undone, or else be disobedient
to God, and lose his grace. But if we fall into venial sins, this is
suffered both by God and by our reason, for we cannot wholly
guard against them. And therefore such failings do not make us
disobedient, for they do not drive out the grace of God nor our
inward peace; nevertheless, we should always lament such
lapses, how small soever they may be, and guard against them
with all our might.
And by these words I have explained to you what I said at
the beginning, namely, that every man must needs be obedient
in all things to God and to holy church and to his own con-
science; for I do not wish that any should be unjustly offended
by my words. And herewith I leave it even as I have said it.
Chapter IX
How We May Become Hidden Sons of God, and Attain to the
God-seeing Life
But I still longed to know how we may become hidden sons
of God, and may attain to the God-seeing life. And as to this I
have apprehended the following. As it has been said before, we
must always live and be watchful in all virtues, and beyond all
virtues must forsake this life and die in God; for we must die to
sin and be born of God into a life of virtue, and we must re-
nounce ourselves and die in God into an eternal life. And as to
this ensues the following instruction:
If we are born of the Spirit of God, we are the sons of grace;
and so our whole life is adorned with virtues. Thereby we over-
come all that is contrary to God; for Saint John says, WHAT-
SOEVER IS BORN OF GOD OVERCOMETH THE
WORLD. In this birth all good men are sons of God. And the
Spirit of God kindles and stirs each one of them in particular to
those virtues and to those good works for which he is in readi-
ness, and of which he is capable. And so they please God all in
common, and each in particular, according to the measure of
his love and the nobleness of his exercise; nevertheless, they do
not feel established nor possessed of God, nor assured of eternal
life, for they may still turn away and fall into sin. And that is
why I call them rather servants and friends than sons. But when
we transcend ourselves, and become, in our ascent toward God,
so simple that the naked love in the height can lay hold of us,
where love enfolds love, above every exercise of virtue—that is,
in our Origin, of which we are spiritually born—then we cease,
and we and all our selfhood die in God. And in this death we
become hidden sons of God, and find a new life within us: and
that is eternal life. And of these sons, Saint Paul says, YOU
ARE DEAD, AND YOUR LIFE IS HID WITH CHRIST
IN GOD.
Now understand, the explanation of this is as follows. In our
approach to God we must carry with us ourselves and all our
works, as a perpetual sacrifice to God; and in the presence of
God, we must forsake ourselves and all our works, and, dying
in love, go forth from all creatureliness into the superessential
richness of God: there we shall possess God in an eternal death
to ourselves. And that is why the Spirit of God says in the Book
of the Divine Secrets, BLESSED ARE THE DEAD WHICH
DIE IN THE LORD. Justly he calls them the blessed dead, for
they remain eternally dead and lost to themselves in the fruitive
unity of God. And they die in love ever anew, through the in-
drawing transformation of that same unity. Further, the Spirit
of God says, THEY MAY REST FROM THEIR LABORS,
AND THEIR WORKS DO FOLLOW THEM. In the ordi-
nary state of grace, when we are born of God into a ghostly and
virtuous life, we carry our works before us, as an offering to
God; but in the wayless state, where we die back into God in an
eternal and blessed life, there our good works follow us, for they
are one life with us. When we go toward God by means of the
virtues, God dwells in us; but when we go out from ourselves
and from all else, then we dwell in God. So soon as we have
faith, hope, and charity, we have received God, and he dwells
in us with his grace, and he sends us out as his faithful servants,
to keep his commandments. And he calls us in again as his secret
friends, so soon as we are willing to follow his counsels; and he
names us openly as his sons so soon as we live in opposition to
the world. But if above all things we would taste God, and feel
eternal life in ourselves, we must go forth into God with our
feeling, above reason; and there we must abide, onefold, empty
of ourselves, and free from images, lifted up by love into the
simple bareness of our intelligence. For when we go out in love
beyond and above all things, and die to all observation in
ignorance and in darkness, then we are wrought and trans-
formed through the eternal Word, who is the image of the
Father. In this idleness of our spirit we receive the incompre-
hensible Light, which enwraps us and penetrates us, as the air
is penetrated by the light of the sun. And this Light is nothing
else than a fathomless staring and seeing. What we are, that we
behold; and what we behold, that we are: for our thought, our
life, and our being are uplifted in simplicity, and made one with
the Truth which is God. And therefore in this simple staring we
are one life and one spirit with God: and this I call a contem-
plative life.18 As soon as we cleave to God through love, we
practice the better part; but when we gaze thus into our super-
essence, we possess God utterly.19 With this contemplation there
is bound up an exercise which is wayless, that is to say, a
noughting of life; for, where we go forth out of ourselves into
darkness and the abysmal waylessness, there shines perpetually
the simple ray of the splendor of God, in which we are grounded,
and which draws us out of ourselves into the superessence, and
into the immersion of love. And with this sinking into love there
is always bound up a practice of love which is wayless; for love
cannot be lazy,20 but would search through and through and
taste through and through the fathomless richness which lives in
the ground of her being, and this is a hunger which cannot be
appeased. But a perpetual striving after the unattainable—this
is swimming against the stream. One can neither leave it nor
grasp it, neither do without it nor attain it, neither be silent on
it nor speak of it, for it is above reason and understanding, and
it transcends all creatures; and therefore we can never reach
nor overtake it. But we should abide within ourselves: there we
feel that the Spirit of God is driving us and enkindling us in this
restlessness of love. And we should abide above ourselves. And
then we feel that the Spirit of God is drawing us out of ourselves
and burning us to nothingness in his Selfhood; that is, in the
superessential Love21 with which we are one, and which we
possess more deeply and more widely than all else.
This possession is a simple and abysmal tasting of all good and
of eternal life; and in this tasting we are swallowed up above
is I.e., een scouwende leven. Werken, III, 24,11. 31-32. Cf. Augustine, De quant.
animae, cap. 33.
!9 Daer wij met minnen ane Gode eleven . . . maer daer wij aldus in overwesene
staren, daer besitten wij Gode gheheel. Ibid., p. 24,11. 32-35.
20
Want minne en mack niet ledich sijn. . . . Werken, III, 25,1. 12.
21
In die overweselijcke Minne. . . . Ibid., 1. 25.
reason and without reason, in the deep quiet of the Godhead,22
which is never moved. That this is true we can only know by
our own feeling, and in no other way. For how this is, or where,
or what, neither reason nor practice can come to know; and
therefore our ensuing exercise always remains wayless, that is,
without manner. For that abysmal Good which we taste and
possess, we can neither grasp nor understand; neither can we
enter into it by ourselves or by means of our exercises. And so we
are poor in ourselves, but rich in God; hungry and thirsty in
ourselves, drunken and fulfilled in God; busy in ourselves, idle
in God. And thus we shall remain throughout eternity. But with-
out the exercise of love, we can never possess God; and who-
soever thinks or feels otherwise is deceived. And thus we live
wholly in God, where we possess our blessedness; and we live
wholly in ourselves, where we exercise ourselves in love toward
God. And though we live wholly in God and wholly in ourselves,
yet it is but one life; but it is twofold and opposite according to
our feeling, for poor and rich, hungry and satisfied, busy and
idle, these things are wholly contrary to one another. Yet with
this our highest honor is bound up, now and in eternity: for we
cannot wholly become God and lose our created being—this is
impossible.23 Did we, however, remain wholly in ourselves, sun-
dered from God, we should be miserable and unblest. And
therefore we should feel ourselves living wholly in God and
wholly in ourselves; and between these two feelings we should
find nothing else but the grace of God and the exercise of our
love. For out of our highest feeling the brightness of God shines
into us, which teaches us truth, and moves us toward every vir-
tue and in eternal love toward God. If we follow this brightness
without pause, back into that Source from whence it comes
forth, there we feel nothing but a quenching of our spirit and an
irretrievable downsinking into simple and fathomless love.
Could we continue to dwell there with our simple gaze, we
should always so feel it; for our immersion and transformation
in God continues without ceasing in eternity, if we have gone
forth from ourselves, and God is ours in the immersion of love.
For if we possess God in the immersion of love—that is, if we are
lost to ourselves—God is our own and we are his own; and we
sink ourselves eternally and irretrievably in our own possession,
22
Boven redene ende sonder redene in die diepe stilheit der Godheit. . . . Ibid., 11.
3O-3 1 -
23
Niet God werden ende onse ghescapenheit verliesen, dat es ommoghelijc. Ibid., p. 26,
11. 19-20.
which is God. This immersion is essential, and is closely bound
up with the state of love: and so it continues whether we sleep or
whether we wake, whether we know it or whether we know it
not. And so it does not earn for us any new degree of reward,
but it maintains us in the possession of God and of all that good
which we have received. And this downsinking is like a river,
which without pause or turning back ever pours into the sea;
since this is its proper resting place. So likewise when we possess
God alone, the downsinking of our being, with the love that
belongs to it, flows forth, without return, into a fathomless ex-
perience which we possess, and which is our proper resting
place. Were we always simple, and could we always contem-
plate with the same recollection, we should always have the
same experience. Now this immersion is above all virtues, and
above every exercise of love; for it is nothing else than an eternal
going out from ourselves, with a clear looking forward, into an
otherness or difference toward which, outside ourselves, we tend
as toward our blessedness. For we feel an eternal yearning to-
ward something other than what we are ourselves. And this is the
most inward and hidden distinction which we can feel between
God and ourselves, and beyond it there is no difference any
more. But our reason abides here with open eyes in the darkness,
that is, in an abysmal ignorance; and in this darkness, the abys-
mal splendor remains covered and hidden from us, for its over-
whelming unfathomableness blinds our reason. But it enwraps
us in simplicity, and transforms us through its selfhood: and
thus we are brought forth by God, out of our selfhood, into the
immersion of love, in which we possess blessedness, and are one
with God.
When we are thus made one with God, there abides within
us a quickening knowledge and an active love; for without our
own knowledge we cannot possess God; and without the prac-
tice of love we cannot be united with God, nor remain one with
him. For if we could be blessed without our knowledge, then a
stone, which has no knowledge, could also be blessed. Were I
lord over all the world and knew it not, how would it profit me?
And therefore we shall ever know and feel that we taste and
possess; and this is testified by Christ himself, where he speaks
thus of us to his Father: THIS, he says, IS LIFE ETERNAL
THAT THEY SHOULD KNOW THEE, THE ONLY TRUE
GOD, AND JESUS CHRIST, WHOM THOU HAST SENT.
And by this you may understand that our eternal life consists in
knowledge with discernment.
Ckapter X
How We, Though One with God, Must Eternally Remain Other
than God
Though I have said before that we are one with God, and this
is taught us by Holy Writ, yet now I will say that we must eter-
nally remain other than God, and distinct from Him, 24 and this
too is taught us by Holy Writ. And we must understand and feel
both within us, if all is to be right with us.
And therefore I say further: that from the Face of God, or
from our highest feeling, a brightness shines upon the face of our
inward being, which teaches us the truth of love and of all vir-
tues; and especially are we taught in this brightness to feel God
and ourselves in four ways. First, we feel God in his grace; and
when we apprehend this, we cannot remain idle. For like as the
sun, by its splendor and its heat, enlightens and gladdens and
makes fruitful the whole world, so God does to us through his
grace: he enlightens and gladdens and makes fruitful all men
who desire to obey him. If, however, we would feel God within
us, and have the fire of his love evermore burning within us, we
must, of our own free will, help to kindle it in four ways: We
must abide within ourselves, united with the fire through in-
wardness. And we must go forth from ourselves toward all good
men with loyalty and brotherly love. And we must go beneath
ourselves in penance, betaking ourselves to all good works, and
resisting our inordinate lusts. And we must ascend above our-
selves with the flame of this fire, through devotion, and thanks-
giving, and praise, and fervent prayer, and must ever cleave to
God with an upright intention and with sensible love. And there-
by God continues to dwell in us with his grace; for in these four
ways is comprehended every exercise which we can do with the
reason, and in some wise, but without this exercise no one can
please God. And he who is most perfect in this exercise is nearest
to God. And therefore it is needful for all men; and above it
none can rise save the contemplative men. 25 And thus, in this
first way, we feel God within us through his grace, if we wish to
belong to him.
Secondly, when we possess the God-seeing life, we feel our-
selves to be living in God; and from out of that life in which we
feel God in ourselves there shines forth upon the face of our in-
24 Wij een ander van Gode eewelijc bliven moeten. . . . Ibid., p . 28,11. 2 9 - 3 0 .
25 Scouwende menschen. Ibid., p. 30, 1. 1.
ward being a brightness which enlightens our reason, and is an
intermediary between ourselves and God. And if we with our
enlightened reason abide within ourselves in this brightness, we
feel that our created life incessantly immerses itself in its eternal
life. But when we follow the brightness above reason with a
simple sight, and with a willing leaning out of ourselves, toward
our highest life, there we experience the transformation of our
whole selves in God; and thereby we feel ourselves to be wholly
enwrapped in God.
And, after this, there follows the third way of feeling: namely,
that we feel ourselves to be one with God; for, through the trans-
formation in God, we feel ourselves to be swallowed up in the
fathomless abyss of our eternal blessedness, wherein we can
nevermore find any distinction between ourselves and God. And
this is our highest feeling, which we cannot experience in any
other way than in the immersion in love. And therefore, so soon
as we are uplifted and drawn into our highest feeling, all our
powers stand idle in an essential fruition; but our powers do not
pass away into nothingness, for then we should lose our created
being. And as long as we stand idle, with an inclined spirit, and
with open eyes, but without reflection, so long we can contem-
plate and have fruition. But, at the very moment in which we
seek to prove and to comprehend what it is that we feel, we fall
back into reason, and there we find a distinction and an other-
ness between ourselves and God, and find God outside ourselves
in incomprehensibility.
And hence the fourth way of distinction, which is, that we
feel God and ourselves. Hereby we now find ourselves standing
in the presence of God; and the truth which we receive from the
Face of God teaches us that God would be wholly ours and that
he wills us to be wholly his. And in that same moment in which
we feel that God would be wholly ours, there arises within us a
gaping and eager craving which is so hungry and so deep and so
empty that, even though God gave all that he could give, if he
gave not himself, we should not be appeased. For, whilst we feel
that he has given himself and yielded himself to our untram-
meled craving, that we may taste of him in every way that we
can desire—and of this we learn the truth in his sight—yet all
that we taste, against all that we lack, is but like a single drop of
water against the whole sea: and this makes our spirit burst forth
in fury and in the heat and the restlessness of love. For the more
we taste, the greater our craving and our hunger; for the one is
the cause of the other. And thus it comes about that we struggle
in vain. For we feed upon his immensity, which we cannot
devour, and we yearn after his infinity, which we cannot attain:
and so we cannot enter into God nor can God enter into us, for
in the untamed fury of love we are not able to renounce our-
selves. And therefore the heat is so unmeasured that the exer-
cise of love between ourselves and God flashes to and fro like the
lightning in the sky; and yet we cannot be consumed in its
ardor. And in this storm of love our activity is above reason and
wayless; for love longs for that which is impossible to it, and
reason teaches that love is in the right, but reason can neither
counsel love nor dissuade her. For as long as we inwardly per-
ceive that God would be ours, the goodness of God touches our
eager craving: and therefrom springs the wildness of love, for
the touch which pours forth from God stirs up this wildness, and
demands our activity, that is, that we should love eternal love.
But the inward-drawing touch draws us out of ourselves, and
calls us to be melted and noughted in the Unity. And in this
inward-drawing touch, we feel that God wills us to be his; and,
therefore, we must renounce ourselves and leave him to work
our blessedness* But where he touches us by the outpouring
touch, he leaves us to ourselves, and makes us free, and sets us
in his presence, and teaches us to pray in the spirit and to ask in
freedom, and shows us his incomprehensible riches in such
manifold ways as we are able to grasp. For everything that we
can conceive, wherein is consolation and joy, this we find in him
without measure. And therefore, when our feeling shows us that
he with all these riches would be ours and dwell in us forever-
more, then all the powers of the soul open themselves, and
especially the desirous power; for all the rivers of the grace of
God pour forth, and the more we taste of them, the more we
long to taste; and the more we long to taste, the more deeply we
press into contact with him; and the more deeply we press into
contact with God, the more the flood of his sweetness flows
through us and over us; and the more we are thus drenched and
flooded, the better we feel and know that the sweetness of God
is incomprehensible and unfathomable. And therefore the
prophet says: O TASTE, AND SEE THAT THE LORD IS
SWEET. But he does not say how sweet He is, for God's sweet-
ness is without measure; and therefore we can neither grasp it
nor swallow it. And this is also testified by the bride of God in
The Song of Songs, where she says: I SAT DOWN UNDER
HIS SHADOW, WITH GREAT DELIGHT, AND HIS
FRUIT WAS SWEET TO MY TASTE.
Chapter XI
Of the Great Difference Between the Brightness of the Saints and
the Highest Brightness to Which We Can Attain in This Life
There is a great difference between the brightness of the saints
and the highest brightness or enlightenment to which we may
attain in this life. For it is only the shadow of God which en-
lightens our inward wilderness, but on the high mountains of
the Promised Land there is no shadow; and yet it is one and the
same Sun, and one radiance, which enlightens both our wilder-
ness and the high mountains. But the state of the saints is trans-
parent and shining, and therefore they receive the brightness
without intermediary; but our state is still mortal and gross, and
this sets up an obstacle which causes the shadow, which so
darkens our understanding that we cannot know God and
heavenly things so clearly as the saints can and do. For as long
as we dwell in the shadow, we cannot see the Sun in itself; but
NOW WE SEE THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY, says Saint
Paul. Yet the shadow is so enlightened by the sunshine that we
can perceive the distinctions between all the virtues, and all the
truth that is profitable to our mortal state. But if we would be-
come one with the brightness of the Sun, we must follow love,
and go out of ourselves into the Wayless, and then the Sun will
draw us with our blinded eyes into its own brightness, in which
we shall possess unity with God. So soon as we feel and under-
stand ourselves thus, we are in that contemplative life which is
within reach of our mortal state.
The state of the Jews, according to the Old Testament, was
cold and in the night, and they walked in darkness. And they
DWELT IN THE LAND OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH,
says the prophet Isaias. The shadow of death came forth from
original sin; and therefore they had all to endure the lack of
God. But though our state in the Christian faith is but still in the
cool and morning hour, yet for us the day has dawned. And
therefore we shall walk in the light, and shall sit down in the
shadow, of God; and his grace shall be an intermediary between
ourselves and God. And, through it, we shall overcome all
things, and shall die to all things, and shall pass without hin-
drance into the unity of God. But the state of the saints is warm
and bright; for they live and walk in the noontide, and see with
open and enlightened eyes the brightness of the Sun, for the
glory of God flows through them and overflows in them. And
each one, according to the degree of his enlightenment, tastes
and knows the fruits of all the virtues which have there been
gathered together by all spirits. But that they taste and know
the Trinity in the Unity, and the Unity in the Trinity, and know
themselves united therewith, this is the highest and all-surpass-
ing food which makes them drunken, and causes them to rest in
its Selfhood. And this it was that the bride in the Book of Love
desired, when she said unto Christ: TELL ME, O THOU
WHOM MY SOUL LOVETH, WHERE THOU FEEDEST,
WHERE THOU MAKEST THY FLOCK TO REST AT
NOON, that is in the light of glory, as Saint Bernard says; for
all the food that is given to us here, in the morning hour and in
the shadow, is but a foretaste of the food that is to come in the
noontide of the glory of God.
Yet the bride of our Lord gloried in having sat under the
shadow of God, and that his fruit was sweet to her taste. When-
ever we feel that God touches us from within, we taste of his
fruit and his food: for his touch is his food. And his touch is both
indrawing and outpouring,26 as I have said before. In his in-
drawing, we must be wholly his: thereby we learn to die and to
behold. But in his outpouring, he wills to be wholly ours: and
then he teaches us to live in the riches of the virtues. In his
indrawing touch all our powers forsake us, and then we sit
under his shadow, and his fruit is sweet to our taste, for the
Fruit of God is the Son of God, whom the Father brings forth
in our spirit. This Fruit is so infinitely sweet to our taste that we
can neither swallow it nor assimilate it, but it rather absorbs us
into itself and assimilates us with itself. And whenever this
Fruit draws us inward and touches us, we abandon, forsake, and
overcome all other things. And in this overcoming of all things,
we taste of the hidden manna, which shall give us eternal life;
for we receive the sparkling stone, of which I have spoken here-
tofore, in which our new names were written before the begin-
ning of the world.
This is the NEW NAME WHICH NO MAN KNOWETH
BUT HE THAT RECEIVETH IT. And whosoever feels him-
self to be forever united with God, he possesses his name accord-
ing to the measure of his virtues, and of his introversion, and of
his union. And, that every one may obtain his name and possess
it in eternity, the Lamb of God, that is, the manhood of our
Lord, has delivered itself up to death; and has opened for us the
Book of Life, wherein are written all the names of the elect. And
26 Intreckende ochte uutvloevende. . . . Ibid., p. 3 5 , 1 . 15.

these names cannot be blotted out, for they are one with the
Living Book, which is the Son of God. And that same death has
broken for us the seals of the Book, so that all virtues m&y be
fulfilled according to the eternal providence of God. And so, in
the measure in which each man can overcome himself, and can
die to all things, he feels the touch of the Father drawing him
inward; and then he tastes the sweetness of the inborn Fruit,
which is the Son; and in this tasting the Holy Ghost teaches him
that he is the heir of God. But in these three points no one is like
to another in every respect. And therefore each one has been
named separately, and his name is continually made new
through new graces and new works of virtue. And therefore
every knee shall bow before the name of Jesus, for he has fought
for our sake, and has conquered. And he has enlightened our
darkness, and has fulfilled all the virtues in the highest degree.
And so his name is lifted up above all other names, for he is the
King and the Prince over all the elect. And in his name we are
called and chosen, and adorned with grace and with virtues,
and look for the glory of God.
Chapter XII
Of the Transfiguration of Christ on Mount Thabor
And so, that the name of Christ may be exalted and glorified
in us, we should follow him up the mountain of our bare in-
telligence, even as Peter, James, and John followed him on to
Mount Thabor. Thabor means in our tongue "an increase of
light." So soon as we are like Peter in knowledge of truth, and
like James in the overcoming of the world, and like John in full-
ness of grace possessing the virtues in righteousness, then Jesus
brings us up onto the mountain of our bare intelligence to a
hidden solitude, and reveals himself to us in glory and in divine
brightness. And, in his name, his Father in heaven opens to us
the living book of his eternal Wisdom. And the Wisdom of God
enfolds our bare vision and the simplicity of our spirit in a way-
less, simple fruition of all good without distinction; and here
there are indeed seeing and knowing, tasting and feeling, es-
sence and life, having and being: and all this is one in our tran-
scendence in God. And before this transcendence we are all set,
each in his own particular way; and our Heavenly Father, of his
wisdom and goodness, endows each one in particular according
to the nobility of his life and his practice. And therefore, if we
ever remained with Jesus on Mount Thabor, that is, upon the
mountain of our bare thought, we should continually experi-
ence a growth of new light and new truth; for we should ever
hear the voice of the Father, who touches us, pouring forth with
grace, and drawing us inward into the unity. The voice of the
Father is heard by all who follow our Lord Jesus Christ, for he
says of them all, ' 'These are my chosen sons, in whom I am well
pleased." And, through this good pleasure, each one receives
grace, according to the measure and the way in which God is
well-pleasing unto him. And therefrom, between our pleasure
in God, and God's pleasure in us, there arises the practice of
true love. And so each one tastes of his name and his office and
the fruit of his exercise. And here all good men abide, hidden
from those who live in the world; for these are dead before God
and have no name, and therefore they can neither feel nor taste
that which belongs to those who live indeed.
The outpouring touch of God quickens us with life in the
spirit, and fulfills us with grace, and enlightens our reason, and
teaches us to know truth and to discern the virtues, and keeps us
stable in the presence of God, with such a great strength that
we are able to endure all the tasting, all the feeling, and all the
outpouring gifts of God without our spirits failing us. But the
indrawing touch of God demands of us that we should be one
with God, and go forth from ourselves, and die into blessedness,
that is, into the eternal Love which embraces the Father and
the Son in one fruition. And therefore when we have climbed
with Jesus onto the mountain of our bare thought, and if, then,
we follow him with a single and simple gaze, with inward
pleasure, and with fruitive inclination, we feel the fierce heat of
the Holy Ghost, burning and melting us into the unity of God.
For when we are one with the Son, and lovingly return toward
our Beginning, then we hear the voice of the Father, touching
us and drawing us inward; for he says to all his chosen in his
eternal Word, THIS IS MY BELOVED SON, IN WHOM I
AM WELL PLEASED. For you should know that the Father
with the Son, and the Son with the Father, have conceived an
eternal satisfaction in regard to this: that the Son should take
upon himself our manhood, and die, and bring back all the
chosen to their Beginning.
And so soon as we are uplifted through the Son into our
Origin, we hear the voice of the Father, which draws us inward,
and enlightens us with eternal truth. And truth shows to us the
wide-opened good pleasure of God, in which all good pleasure
3l8 JAN VAN RUYSBROEGK
begins and ends. There all our powers fail us, and we fall from
ourselves into our wide-opened contemplation, and become all
One and one All, in the loving embrace of the three-fold Unity.
Whenever we feel this union, we are one being and one life and
one blessedness with God. And there all things are fulfilled and
all things are made new; for when we are baptized into the wide
embrace of the love of God, the joy of each one of us becomes so
great and so special that he can neither think of nor care for the
joy of anyone else; for then each one is himself a fruition of love,
and he cannot and dare not seek for anything beyond his own.
Chapter XIII
How We Ought to Have Fruition of God
If a man would have fruition of God, three things are need-
ful thereto; these are: true peace, inward silence, and loving
adherence.
Whosoever would find true peace between himself and God
must love God in such a way that he can, with a free heart, re-
nounce for the glory of God everything which he does or loves
inordinately, or which he possesses, or can possess, contrary to
the glory of God. This is the first thing which is needful to all
men.
The second thing is an inward silence; that is, that a man
should be empty and free from images of all things which he
ever saw or of which he ever heard.
The third thing is a loving adherence to God, and this adher-
ence is itself fruition; for whosoever cleaves to God out of pure
love, and not for his own profit, he enjoys God in truth, and
feels that he loves God and that God loves him.
There are still three other points, which are higher still, and
which establish a man and make him able to enjoy and to feel
God continually, if it be His good will to have it so.
The first of these points is to rest in Him whom one enjoys;
that is, where love is overcome by the lover, and love is taken
possession of by the lover, in bare essential love. There love has
fallen in love with the lover, and each is all to the other, in
possession and in rest.
From this there follows the second: and this is called a falling
asleep in God; that is, when the spirit immerses itself, and knows
not how, nor where, nor in what it is.
And therefrom follows the last point that can be put into
words, that is, when the spirit beholds a Darkness into which it
cannot enter with the reason. And there it feels itself dead and
lost to itself, and one with God without difference and without
distinction. And when it feels itself one with God, then God him-
self is its peace and its enjoyment and its rest. And this is an
unfathomable abyss wherein man must die to himself in blessed-
ness, and must live again in virtues, whenever love and its stir-
ring demand it. Lo! if you feel these six points within you, then
you feel all that I have, or could have, said before. And intro-
version27 is as easy to you, and contemplation and fruition are
as ready to you, as your life according to nature. And from these
riches there comes that common life of which I promised to
speak to you at the beginning.
Chapter XIV
Of That Common Life Which Comes from the Contemplation and
Fruition of God
The man who is sent down by God from these heights into the
world is full of truth and rich in all virtues. And he seeks not his
own but the glory of Him who has sent him. And hence he is
just and truthful in all things, and he possesses a rich and a
generous ground, which is set in the richness of God, and there-
fore he must always spend himself on those who have need of
him; for the living fount of the Holy Ghost, which is his wealth,
can never be spent. And he is a living and willing instrument of
God, with which God works whatsoever he wills and howsoever
he wills; and these works he reckons not as his own, but gives all
the glory to God. And so he remains ready and willing to do in
the virtues all that God commands, and strong and courageous
in suffering and enduring all that God allows to befall him.
And by this he possesses a universal life, for he is ready alike for
contemplation and for action, and is perfect in both of them. 28
And none can have this universal life save the God-seeing man;
and none can contemplate and enjoy God save he who has
27 Ende in uwen inkeere. . . . Ibid., p . 4 0 , 11. 3 1 - 3 2 .
28 Ende hier-omime heeft hi een ghemeyn leven; want hem es scouwen ende werken even
ghereet, ende in beyden es hi volcomen. Ibid., p. 41, 11. 17-19. O n the further
ambivalence of the "common life" and the "common," i.e., truly "noble,"
man as serving both the active and the contemplative, see Bizet, ed., Le
royaume des amants, pt. 5, sec. 5, pp. 176-78; Dat Rijake der Ghelieven, V, 5,
Werken, I, pp. 99-100. Apropos of the relation to Richard of St. Victor's
fourth grade of Violent Love, see D'Asbeck, La mystique.
320 JAN VAN RUYSBROECK.
within himself the six points, ordered as I have described here-
tofore. And therefore, all those are deceived who fancy them-
selves to be contemplative, and yet inordinately love, practice,
or possess some creaturely thing; or who fancy that they enjoy
God before they are empty of images, or that they rest before
they enjoy. All such are deceived; for we must make ourselves
fit for God with an open heart, with a peaceful conscience, with
naked contemplation, without hypocrisy, in sincerity and truth.
And then we shall mount up from virtue unto virtue, and shall
see God, and shall enjoy him, and in him shall become one with
him, in the way which I have shown to you. That this be done
in all of us, so help us God. Amen.
XI
German Theology (Theologia Germanica)

[Late Fourteenth Century]
INTRODUCTION
Bio- BIBLIOGRAPHICAL ESSAY
T
HIS WORK WAS PROBABLY WRITTEN IN THE LATTER
half of the fourteenth century. Tauler, who died in 1361,
is appreciatively recognized by the author. The anony-
mous work is referred to by a later editor as The Frankfurter. The
book may not be the product of concerted authorship on a given
occasion. It may be a later collection of an earlier set of spiritual
"collations" or "colloquies." Whether or not by "a Teutonic
Knight, a priest, and a warden in the House of the Teutonic
Knights at Frankfurt," the book has an abiding appeal.
There are introductory materials in Wentzlaff-Eggebert,
Deutsch Mystik, pp. 160 ff., 324-325, with literature and primary
editions. Oriented to the 1518 edition of Luther and the MS. of
1497 are the texts of H. Mandel, Leipzig, 1908, and Der
Franckforter (Eyn deutsch Theologia), ed. by Willo Uhl, Bonn,
1912. The last becomes the basis for the modern editions of Jos.
Bernhart, Der Frankfurter, Fine deutsche Theologie, Hermann Rinn,
1922 and 1947. A valuable modern utilization of the 1497
Bronnbacher MS., following the edition of Dr. Franz Pfeiffer
(Stuttgart, 1851, and Giitersloh, 1923), is Das Buch vom vollkom-
menen Leben: die Theologia Deutsch, Thalwil-£urich, 1947, by K. F.
Riedler. This includes the Urtext, pp. 183-316, and useful notes,
as well as a modern text, pp. 7-152. See, especially, Luther's
1518 edition of Eyn deutsch Theologia, with a Vorrede. Note that
Susanna Winkworth's translation, brought into accord with
Bernhart's text, and with introduction and notes by Willard R.
Trask, has been issued by Pantheon, New York, 1949, as
Theologia Germanica.
21 L.M.M. 321
322 GERMAN THEOLOGY
SYNOPSIS
The initial chapters deal with the goal of spiritual perfection
and the way to it. Having established the claims of the con-
templative vocation, there is a statement of the three ways:
purification (Reinigung), illumination (Erleuchtung)> and union
(Vereinigung) [Gh. 14]. 1
The ensuing chapters declare the way to union and the char-
acter of Vergottung, that is, of "deification," or "apotheosis."
But this is not the fleeting rise of the soul during this life into the
unio mystica described earlier (in Ch. 8). Here is the turning of
the life of man into the kind of existence in the present that is
laid down by the Christ ideal. This Christiformity is only ap-
proximately realizable, to be sure. Christ and his following is,
nonetheless, the preoccupation of the book (cf. Chs. 7-14).
Over and beyond the mystical stages of purification, illumina-
tion, and union, looms the teaching on the following of Christ,
the Nachfolge Ckristi, with its more speculative and quietistic
overtones. This is an orientation that never banishes the more
active, daily participation of man in worldly life, though it does
leave this in the background at times. There is a balancing of
the active and the passive in a context which doubtless appealed
to Luther (Ch. 26). It is a call to true righteousness without vain
accent on works. The author is clearly not disparaging rules and
order. Perfect men, however, live higher than the law. They
will, work, and desire no end but the good. The writer reminds
us that "blessedness lies not in any creature or working of the
creatures, but it lies alone in God and in his working" (Ch. 9).
A central point of the German Theology is the problem of will
and its freedom. Here a double concept is involved. There is the
conception of self-will (Eigenwille), which in its independent
strivings is opposed to God. But in the inmost power of man's
will (Willenskraft), God himself works and wills (Ch. 51). This
latter concept of a freedom of the will resting in God is one that
gets its deepening in God and in the self preserved in him. There
is a basic admonition against the hindering of God's working by
the possessive will of the " I . " The soul that will not let God do
and perform all things in it, being wholly possessed by its own
1 Bernhart edition, pp. 157-58. See the Urtext, cap. XIV (Lat. XIII),
p. 211. Cf. Dionysius, Hiir. CJL, ch. I l l , and references to the Areopagite
in the introduction of this anthology. Consult chs. I and V of the Mystical
Theology and Riedler's notes, pp. 160-62 and 166, on Dionysius and the
Neoplatonists in relation to chs. 8 and 14 of Die Theologia Deutsch.
INTRODUCTION 323
existence, thus hinders God. He cannot "perform a work" in
the soul, "alone and without hindrance" (Chs. 3, 4, 51).
God gives man full freedom of decision. He forces no one. He
lets man do what he will, be it good or evil. He has to decide
between good and evil, between his own self-will and God's will.
God, speaking to the soul, reminds it that all is lawful which
comes to pass from the divine Will. All, however, that springs
from the possessive human will is against the eternal Will (Ch.
50). Why, then, if self-will is so contrary to God and the eternal
Will, has God created it? (Cf. Chs. 4, 15, 16, etc.) Answering
this question, the author first disavows for the truly humble and
enlightened man any desire to force God's secrets (Ch. 51). He
then proceeds to the analysis of the second kind of will; that is,
not self-will but the original form (die Urform, die "Idee") of will
as godly power (gottliche Kraft). Reason (or cognition) and will
raise man above the creature. These are among the immediate
gifts of God. The purpose of the godly Willenschqffung> the crea-
tion of the will in the creature by God, is that God's own will
may do its perfect work. Man's duty is to see to it that, prompted
by the human negation of its own self-will, this godly power is
increasingly freed in him. Man may then conform himself to
God and let him work unmediated in the human soul.
The consideration of the eternal Will in man, of man's part
in it, and, chiefly, of its proper origin and working in God is
beautifully dealt with (Ch. 51). The will that springs up from
God and back to him is of all earthly freedoms the most truly
free. It is the nobility (Adel) of the soul. Manifestly the thing
that is truly free cannot be arrogated to anyone as his own. The
man striving to make it his own errs grievously. But among all
free things, none is as free as the Will. One trying to possess it for
himself, and thus wresting it from its own free nobility and
nature, does wrong. This is precisely what the devil, Adam, and
all their followers do. "But he who leaves the Will in its noble
freedom does right, and this is what Christ and all his followers
do" (Ch. 51 ). 2 The penalty for robbing the Will of this noble
freedom and selfishly expropriating it is dire indeed. One who
does this becomes laden with cares, discontent, and strife. But he
who leaves the Will in its free estate knows contentment, peace,
rest, and blessedness, both temporal and eternal.
The Theologia Deutsch places man, during this present life, in
a world between heaven and hell. He may turn to either of these
2 Theologia Germanica (Bernhart-Trask), p. 213.

324 GERMAN THEOLOGY
that he wills. The more of his own possessiveness he invokes, the
more of hell and balefulness he will have. The less of self-will he
exemplifies, the farther from hell and the nearer to heaven he
will be (Ch. 51).
But the real deification (Vergottung) of man is the life in
imitation of Christ. This has its freight of sorrow and renuncia-
tion, its life in suffering passivity (in leidender Weise), and in the
doing, active way (in tuender, diender Weise) (Ch. 26).3 A whole
series of chapters4 stresses Christ's life and its imitation by the
one in process of deification. The life of the Master is in every
way most bitter to nature, to selfhood, and to "I-hood" (Ch.
20). There is consistent emphasis upon the way that leads from
selfhood and I-hood. It stresses the desired working according
to the working of Christ; this being prepared by him to work as
he works. Man must, of course, do something of himself toward
this preparation. Active, as well as passive, qualities are called
for (Chs. 22-23).
Obedience, poverty, and living under the law are necessary,
as well as going beyond it with Christ (Ch. 26). A steady refrain
is the deifying of man through Christ's drawing him to divine
reunion with God (Chs. 52-54). Everywhere is the double warn-
ing against despising outer works and being limited to them.
The author adverts repeatedly to the manner in which one may
keep the balance; the way in which one may live beyond rules,
order, and laws without committing the shameful antinomian-
ism of the "false free spirits."5
The writer always tries to keep the balance between suffering
passivity and active working (Chs. 23-39). He notes, realisti-
cally, that Christ never rose above pain before his death (Ch. 29).
His followers too may expect to suffer unto the end. So, too,
they may not expect to come fully to a life that lies beyond all
laws, works, and good deeds. There is a sense in which one may
come through these to something that lies beyond them. But
Christ did not despise them, nor may his followers do so.6
The Frankfurter, like Eckhart and the Rhenish school, knows
the need of rising above creaturely affections and vain workings.
It also knows the necessity of combining adherence to God's will
and a positive share in the active duties of life. There is sober
warning against casting "imagery" aside too soon (Ch. 13). The
3
Uhl's text reads: "yn leydender weyss und ettwanyn thonder weyss und auchyn
diender weyss" (p. 29).
4
Gaps. 51-54, also 18-20, 26, etc.
6
5 Cf. caps. 26, 30, 39, and 43. Especially caps. 25 and 30.
INTRODUCTION 325
life of Christ is held up as both the bitterest and the sweetest, the
most precious and the best (Chs. 18, 20). The Frankfurter re-
minds us of the doing of certain outward things that must be
(Ch. 21). It tells how to be still under God's hand and obedient
in all things "both passively and sometimes actively as well"
(Ch. 23).7 The writer also teaches how man must think of him-
self as being nothing in himself (Ch. 26). From this it follows
that man finds himself wholly unworthy of all that God has done
or will do for him and all other creatures. He finds himself "in-
debted to God and also to all creatures in God's stead, pas-
sively, and sometimes also actively, and as one who should
serve them" (Ch. 26).8 Farther on he recalls how the life of
poverty and humility, which Christ exemplified, did not rule
out works of true humility and virtue. Christ did not despise or
set at nought the commandments. Yet, to keep them is not
enough; we must press forward to what is higher and better, the
righteousness that will exceed that of scribes and Pharisees.
Chapter 27 admonishes against man's thinking that he has
nothing to do, for a man must always have work to do as long
as he lives. But we are not to think that union with God lies in
any man's powers, in his working or in his abstaining, learning
or knowing. Neither in conjunction with creatures does union
exist (Ch. 27; Lat. 25).
The matter of order, rule, and measure in creatures is a
recurring theme. Four different classes of men react differently
to this; among them the "Free Spirits." The writer ranges over
a wide field, including the "False Light" and its tokens (Chs.
39-40). Developing the theme of love, begun earlier, he shows
how that love comes to its fruition in the truly deified man; how
it is in Christ and is to be matched, therefore in his followers
(Chs. 43, 41). This order and law-abidingness lived in love,
Christward, never ceases to claim part of man's attention while
he lives in this world (Ch. 27). True, one must remember that
no works, words, or any creaturely thing or observance can save
us. Nevertheless, life must go on, and we must both do and
refrain. "In particular, we must sleep and wake, walk and stand
still, speak and be silent, eat and drink, and much more of the
like. These must go on so long as we live" (Ch. 27).9
7
Theologia Germanica, p p . 152-53.
8
Ibid., p . 157. Eine deutsche Theologie, p . 183: auf leidende und bisweilen auf
tdtige und auch auf dienende Weise. Cf. Riedler, Urtext, p . 236: in lidender wise
und etwan in tunder wise und ouch in diender wise.
9
Theologia Germanica, p . 163.
326 GERMAN THEOLOGY
In perspective, here, the author, like Tauler, strikes out at the
"False Lights," 'Tree Spirits," and others. He attacks these
antinomians who hold themselves above Scripture, teaching,
sacraments, and all the rest of Catholic life and lore (Ch. 25).
This "rank spiritual pride" disregards "wise order, the laws and
precepts of the holy Christian church, . . . [and] the sacra-
ments; yea, mocks at them. . . ." 10 The Frankfurter also attacks
those who think themselves "raised above all works and words,
above rule, law, and order . . ." (Ch. 40). n Of course, there is
a sense in which we ought and are able to get beyond all rule
and order. There is real danger of misunderstanding at this
point, however. Christ "stood above" the Christ life and above
all virtues, rules, and order, in the sense of his having them all to
perfection. The author admits with Paul that those driven of
the Spirit, the sons of God, are not under the law in the sense of
having to wait and let it tell them what to do. Christ has already
done this. So should each seek to be a follower of Christ (Nach-
folger Christi) in his daily life (Chs. 19, 26, 30).
Furthermore, the role of love before indicated has large im-
plications for the outworkings of fellow feeling. The love of the
good, of God, demonstrates the necessity of love for all things,
also of neighbors. If man did nothing but acts of love to his
neighbor, all men would be one. However, the author knows the
realistic limits of human love and co-operation in this life. The
"False Lights" arrogate to themselves in prideful self-love that
which belongs to God alone. This is the role of Lucifer and
Antichrist, rising against God and his unique place. The true
imitators of Christ know that he who loves his own soul shall
lose it; the true, perfect lover finds all good, comfort, love, and
joy in the Lord (Ch. 40).
The writer warns against the deceptiveness of self-reasoning,
self-will (Ch. 20); also against undue freedom. Man has not in
this life a full participation in the Christ of grace (Ch. 16). No
man may attain to the perfect obedience of Christ. Yet every
man may approach so near it as to be called, and to be, "indeed,
godlike and deified."12
10 ibid., p. 156. 11 Ibid., p. 186.
i 2 Ibid., p. 143. Bernhart, op. cit., p. 165: dass er gottlich und vergottet heisst und
. ist.
German Theology (Theologia Germanica)
[Late Fourteenth Century]
GERMAN THEOLOGY
THE TEXT
Chapter VII™
Of the Two Eyes of the Spirit with Which Man Looks Into
Eternity and Into Time, and How the One Is Hindered by
the Other
Let us remember how it is written and said that the soul of
Christ had two eyes, a right and a left eye.14 In the beginning,
when the soul of Christ was created, she fixed her right eye upon
eternity and the Godhead, and remained in perfect enjoyment
and intuition of the divine Essence and eternal Perfection, im-
movably; and continued thus unmoved and undisturbed by all
the accidents and travail, suffering, torment, and pain that ever
befell the outward man. But with her left eye she beheld the
creature, and perceived all things therein, and took note of the
difference between the creatures, which were better or worse,
nobler or meaner; and thereafter was the outward man of
Christ ordered. Thus the inner man of Christ, according to the
right eye of his soul, stood in perfect enjoyment of his divine
nature, in perfect bliss, joy, and eternal peace. But the outward
man and the left eye of Christ's soul stood in perfect suffering,
in all tribulation, affliction, and travail. And this befell in such
sort that the inward and right eye remained unmoved, un-
hindered, and untouched by all the travail, suffering, grief, and
anguish that ever befell the outward man. It has been said that
when Christ was scourged at the pillar, and when he hung upon
the holy cross, according to his outward man, yet his soul, or
13 The translation utilized is that of Susanna Winkworth revised in accord
with J. Bernhart's modern German version and issued with introduction
and notes translated by Willard R. Trask, New York, 1949, pp. 123-37,
201-25. Used by permission of Pantheon Books, Inc., New York, and
4
Victor Gollancz, Ltd., London.
1 Signifying the soul's versatile regard, inward and outward, upward and
downward; or, with Eckhart, denoting its capacity to face God, above,
and the sense world, below. Gf. Riedler, op. cit, note 18, p. 158; Bernhart-
Trask, Theologia Germanica, p. 232.
327
328 GERMAN THEOLOGY
inner man according to the right eye, stood in as full possession
of divine joy and bliss as it did after his ascension, or as it does
now. In like manner, his outward man, or soul according to the
left eye, was never hindered or disturbed or troubled by the
inward eye in its work, in all that it had outwardly to accom-
plish.
Now the created soul of man has also two eyes. The one is the
power of seeing into eternity, the other of seeing into time and
the creatures, of perceiving how they differ from each other as
aforesaid, of giving life and needful things to the body, and
ordering and governing it for the best. But these two eyes of the
soul of man cannot perform their work at once; but if the soul
shall see with the right eye into eternity, then the left eye must
cease and refrain from all its working, and be as though it were
dead. If now the left eye shall perform its outward work, that is,
shall work with time and the creature, then the right eye must
be hindered in its work, that is, in its contemplation. Therefore
whosoever will have the one must let the other go. For no man
can serve two masters.
Chapter VIII
How the Soul of Man, While It Is Yet in the Body, May Obtain
a Foretaste of Eternal Bliss
It has been asked whether it be possible for the soul, while it
is yet in the body, to reach so high as to cast a glance into eter-
nity, and there receive a foretaste of eternal life and eternal
bliss. This is commonly denied; and truly so, in a sense. For it
indeed cannot be, so long as the soul is looking upon the body,
and the things which minister and appertain thereto, and upon
time and the creature, and is darkened and preoccupied and dis-
tracted thereby. For if the soul shall rise to such a state, she must
be quite pure, wholly stripped and bare of all images,15 and be
entirely separate from all creatures, and above all from herself.
Now many think this is not to be done and is impossible in this
temporal world. But Saint Dionysius maintains that it is pos-
sible, as we find from his words in his Epistle to Timothy, where
he says:16 "For the beholding of the hidden things of God, shalt
thou forsake sense and the things of the flesh, and all that the
!5 All religious media used by the intellect, imagination, and senses. Theo-
logia Germanica, pp. 233, 89, 100.
!6 Mystical Theology, I, 1.
GERMAN THEOLOGY 329
senses can apprehend, and that reason of her own power can
bring forth, and all that the intellect can comprehend and
know, both created and uncreated things, and shalt take thy
stand upon an utter abandonment of thyself, forgetting all of
the aforesaid things, and enter into union with Him who is, and
who is above all essence and all knowledge." Now if he did not
hold this to be possible in time, why should he teach it and
enjoin it upon us in this temporal world? Know too that a mas-
ter, commenting on this passage of Saint Dionysius, has said
that it is wholly possible, and may indeed befall a man so often,
that he will grow so far accustomed to it as to be able to look
into eternity whenever he will. For when a thing is at first very
hard to a man, and strange and seemingly quite impossible, if
he put all his strength and striving into it, and persevere therein,
that will afterward grow quite light and easy which he at first
thought impossible; for there is no use in a beginning save it have
a good end.
And a single one of these noble glances17 is incomparably
better, worthier, higher, and more pleasing to God than all that
the creature can perform as a creature. As soon as a man turns
back, heartily and with his whole will, and, rising above time,
sinks his spirit into the spirit of God,18 then all that ever has
departed from him is restored in a moment. And if a man would
do this a thousand times in a day, each time a fresh and true
union would come about; and in this sweet and divine work
stands the truest and purest union that may be in this temporal
world. For he who has attained thereto asks nothing further: he
has found the Kingdom of Heaven and eternal life on earth.
Chapter IX
How It Is Better and More Profitable for a Man that He Should
Know What God Will Do with Him, or to What End He Will
Make Use of Him, than If He Knew All That God Had Ever
Wrought, or Would Ever Work Through All Creatures; and How
Blessedness Lies Alone in God, and Not in Any Work, Nor Tet in
Creatures
We should mark and know in very truth that all virtue and
17 Ein einziger dieser edlen Blicke. . . . (Riedler, op. cit., pp. 24, 162), referring
to the cognitio matutina (Morgenschau) of the mystics, i.e., the knowledge of
the world in its ideal existence in God vs. die cognitio vespertina (Abendschau),
dealing with the creation in which man seeks God.
18
Einsenht in Gottes Geist. Bernhart, op. cit., p. 144.
330 GERMAN THEOLOGY
goodness, and even that eternal Good which is God himself, can
never make a man virtuous, good, or blessed, so long as he is
outside of his soul; that is, so long as he casts about outwardly
with his senses and reason, and does not withdraw into himself
and learn to know his own life, who and what he is. And the like
is true of sin and evil. For all manner of sin and wickedness do
not make us wicked, so long as they are outside of us; that is, so
long as we do not commit them or do not give consent to them.
Therefore, although it be good and profitable that we should
ask and learn and know what good and holy men have wrought
and suffered, and likewise how God has willed and wrought in
and through them, yet were it a thousand times better that we
should in ourselves learn and perceive and understand who we
are, how and what our life is, what God is in us and works in us,
what he will have from us, and to what ends he will or will not
make use of us. For wholly to know oneself in the truth is above
all learning: it is the highest learning;19 if you know yourself
well, you are better and more praiseworthy before God than if
you did not know yourself, but knew the course of the heavens
and of all the planets and stars, the virtue of all herbs, and the
bodily and intellectual frame of all mankind, the nature of all
beasts, and had further all the arts of all who are in heaven and
on earth. For it is said, there came a voice from heaven, saying,
"Man, know thyself." Therefore there is this saying too: "Never
was there a going out so good but that an indwelling had not
been far better." 20
Further, you should learn that eternal bliss lies in one thing
alone, and in nought else. And if ever man or the soul is to be
made blessed, that one thing alone shall and must be in the soul.
"But what is that one thing?" I answer: It is the Good—or that
which has become good—and yet neither this good nor that,
which we can name, or know, or show; but it is all good, and
above all good. Moreover, it needs not to enter the soul, for it is
there already, only it is unperceived. When we say we should
come to it, we mean that we should seek it, feel it, and taste it.
And now since it is One, unity and singleness is better than
manifoldness. For blessedness lies not in much and manifold-
ness, but in One and oneness. And in short, blessedness lies not
in any creature or working of the creatures, but it lies alone in
God and in his working. Therefore should I wait only on God
*•* , , . inder Wahrheit, das ist fiber alle Wissenschaft: es ist die hochste Wissenschqft.
Bernhart, op, cit., p. 146.
•• Sec Von Abegescheidenheit in F. Pfeiffer, Meister Eckhart, p. 485,11. 13-14.
GERMAN THEOLOGY 33I
and his work, and let go all creatures with their works, and first
of all myself. And all the works and wonders that God has ever
wrought or shall ever work in or through all creatures, yea, God
himself with all the good that is his—so far as these things exist
or are done outside of me, they can never make me blessed. But
only in so far as they exist and are done in me, are loved, known,
tasted, and felt in me.
Chapter X
How Perfect Men Have No Other Desire than that They May Be
to the Eternal Good What His Hand Is to a Man; and How They
Have Lost the Fear of Hell and Desire of Heaven
Now let us mark: Where there are enlightened men, men with
the True Light,21 they perceive that all which they might desire
or choose is nothing to that which all creatures, as creatures,
ever desired or chose or knew. Therefore they renounce all de-
sire and choice, and commit and resign themselves and all things
to the eternal Good. Nevertheless, there remains in them a de-
sire which helps their progress and their approach to the eternal
Good, namely, a desire to come to a closer knowledge and
warmer love, a pure readiness and entire obedience and subjec-
tion; so that every enlightened man could say, "I would fain be
to the eternal Good what his own hand is to a man"; and they
always fear that they fall short of it, and they wish for the salva-
tion of all men. But they stand far above this one remaining
desire, nor take it to themselves, for they know well that this
desire is not man's affair, but belongs to the eternal Good. Nay,
nothing of what is good shall any man arrogate to himself as his
own, for it belongs to the eternal Good only.
Moreover, these men are in a state of such freedom that they
have lost the fear of punishment, or hell, and the hope of re-
ward, or heaven; nay, they live in pure submission and obedi-
ence to the eternal Good, in love freely given and intensely felt.
This was in Christ in perfection, and also in his followers, in
some more and in some less. And it is a sorrow and shame that
the eternal Good is ever guiding us toward what is most noble,
and we will have none of it! What is better and more precious
than true poorness in spirit? And when that is held up before us,
we will have none of it, and are always seeking ourselves, and
our own things. We would always have our mouths daubed
21 Gf. cap. 40 on the "True" vs. the "False" Light.
332 GERMAN THEOLOGY
with sugar, and relish a pleasant taste and delight and sweetness
in ourselves. When this is so, we are well pleased, and think it
stands not amiss with us. But we are yet a long way off from a
perfect life. For when God will draw us up to something higher,
that is, to an utter loss and forsaking of our own things, spiritual
and natural, and withdraws his comfort and all sweetness from
us, we faint and are troubled, and can in no way bring our
minds to it; and we forget God and cease our practice, and
imagine that we are quite lost. This is great frailty and a bad
sign. For a true lover loves God, or the eternal Good, alike in
having and in not having, in sweetness and in bitterness, in joy
and sorrow; for he seeks alone the glory of God and of that which
is God's, and he seeks it in neither spiritual nor natural things,
and therefore he stands alike unshaken in all things, at all
seasons. Hereby let every man judge how he stands toward
God, his Creator and Lord. Amen.
Chapter XI
How a Righteous Man in This Temporal World Is Brought Into
Hell, and There Cannot Be Comforted; and How He Is Taken Out
of Hell and Brought Into Heaven, and There Can No More Be
Troubled
Christ's soul must needs descend into hell before it ascended
into heaven. So must also the soul of man. But mark you in what
manner this comes to pass. When a man truly perceives and
marks himself, who and what he is, and finds himself, so utterly
vile and wicked, and unworthy of all the comfort and kindness
that he has ever received or can receive from God and from the
creatures, he falls into such a deep discouragement and despis-
ing of himself that he thinks himself unworthy the earth should
bear him, and it seems to him just that all creatures in heaven
and on earth should rise up against him and avenge their
Creator on him, and should punish and torment him; and that
he were unworthy even of that. And it seems to him that he shall
be eternally lost and damned, and a footstool to all the evil
spirits in hell, and that this is right and just, and all too little
compared to his sins, so often and in so many ways has he com-
mitted sin against God his Creator. And therefore also he will
not and dare not desire any consolation or release, either from
God or from any creature that is in heaven or on earth; but he
is willing and glad to be unconsoled and unreleased, and he does
GERMAN THEOLOGY 333
not grieve over his condemnation and sufferings; for thus it is
right and just, and not contrary to God, but according to the
will of God. Therefore it is pleasing to him, and he has nothing
to say against it. Nothing grieves him but his own guilt and
wickedness; for these are unrighteousness and contrary to God,
and therefore is he sorrowful and troubled in spirit. This is
what is meant by true repentance for sin. And he who in this
temporal world enters into hell in this wise enters afterward
into the Kingdom of Heaven, and obtains a foretaste thereof
which excels all the delight and joy that ever came or could
come in this temporal world from temporal things. And while a
man is thus in hell, none may console him, neither God nor the
creature, as it is written, "In hell there is no redemption." Of
this state one has said:
"Wasting, dying,
I live uncomforted;
Damned am I
Without, within:
Let no one pray
I be redeemed!"
Now God does not leave a man in this hell; but he takes him
to himself, that the man no longer desires nor regards anything
but the eternal Good only, and comes to know that the eternal
Good is so precious, and more than good, that none can fathom
or express its bliss, consolation, and joy, its peace, rest, and
satisfaction. And then, when the man neither cares for nor seeks
nor desires anything but the eternal Good alone, and seeks not
himself, nor his own things, but only the honor of God in all
things, he is made a partaker of the joy, bliss, peace, rest, and
consolation of the eternal Good—and than this there is nothing
more—and so the man is thenceforth in the Kingdom of
Heaven. This hell and this heaven are two good, safe ways for a
man in this temporal world, and happy is he who travels them
to the end.
For this hell shall pass away
But heaven shall endure for aye.
Yet let a man mark: When he is in this hell, nothing may con-
sole him, and he cannot believe that he shall ever be released
and comforted. But when he is in heaven, nothing can trouble
him; he believes also that none will ever be able to offend or
trouble him. Yet it is indeed true that after this hell he may be
334 GERMAN THEOLOGY
comforted and released, and after this heaven he may be
troubled and left without consolation. Often this hell or this
heaven come over a man in such sort that he knows not whence
it comes, and whether it come to him or depart from him he
can of himself do nothing toward it. Neither the heaven nor the
hell can he give to himself or take from himself, can he of him-
self make or banish; but as it is written, "The spirit bloweth
where it listeth, and thou hearest the voice thereof"; that is to
say, it is present, but thou knowest not whence it comes, nor
whither it goes. And when a man is in one of these two states, it
is well with him, and he can be as safe in hell as in heaven, and
so long as a man is on earth, it is possible for him to pass ofttimes
from the one into the other; yea, many times in the space of a
day and night, and all without his own doing. But when a man
is in neither of these two, he holds converse with the creature,
and wavers hither and thither, and knows not where he is.
Therefore let him never forget either of them in his heart.
Chapter XII
What That True Inward Peace Is, Which Christ Left to His
Disciples
Many say they have not peace and rest; they have so many
crosses and trials, afflictions and sorrows, that they know not
how they shall ever get through them. Now he who will consider
and weigh this rightly will clearly perceive that true peace and
rest lie not in outward things. For if it were so, the Evil Spirit
also would have peace when things go according to his will and
liking, which is nowise the case. For the Lord declares through
the prophet, "There is no peace to the wicked and the faith-
less." And therefore we must consider and see what is that peace
which Christ left to his beloved disciples, when he said, "My
peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you." We may
perceive that by these words Christ did not mean a bodily and
outward peace; for his beloved disciples, with all his lovers and
followers, have ever from the first suffered great affliction, per-
secution, and martyrdom, as Christ himself said, "In this world
ye shall have tribulation." But Christ means that true, inward
peace of the heart, which begins here and endures forever here-
after. Therefore he said, "Not as the world gives it," for the
world is false, and deceives in her gifts. She promises much, and
performs little. Moreover, there lives no man on earth who may
GERMAN THEOLOGY 335
always have rest and peace without troubles and crosses, with
whom things go always according to his will. There is always
something to be suffered here, consider it as you will. And as
soon as you are free of one adversity, perhaps two others come
in its place. Therefore yield yourself willingly to them, and seek
only that true peace of the heart which none can take away from
you, that you may overcome all adversity; the peace that breaks
through all adversities and crosses, all oppression, suffering,
misery, humiliation, and what more there may be of the like,
so that a man may be joyful and patient therein, as were the
beloved disciples and followers of Christ. Now if a man were
lovingly to give his whole diligence and might thereto, he would
very soon come to know that true eternal peace which is God
himself, as far as it is possible to a creature; insomuch that what
was bitter to him before, would become sweet, and his heart
would remain ever unmoved among all things, and after this
life he would attain everlasting peace. Amen.
Chapter XIII
How a Man Often Casts Aside Imagery too Soon
Tauler says, There be some men at the present time who take
leave of imagery too soon,22 before truth and knowledge have
shown them the way thence; hence they are scarcely or perhaps
never after able to understand the Truth aright. For such men
will follow no one, hold fast to their own understandings, and
desire to fly before they are fledged. They would fain mount up
to heaven in one flight, albeit Christ did not so, for after his
resurrection he remained full forty days with his beloved dis-
ciples. No one can become perfect in a day. A man must first
wholly deny himself, and willingly forsake all things for God's
sake, and must give up his own will, and all his natural in-
clinations, and purge and cleanse himself thoroughly from all
sins and evil ways. After this let him humbly take up the cross
and follow Christ. Also let him accept example and instruction,
wise counsel and teaching, and permit devout and perfect
servants of God to advise him, and not follow his own guidance;
thus shall the work be established and come to a good end. And
22 I.e., "It is dangerous too soon to abandon the world of mediating images
which the Church offers to devotion." Bernhart-Trask, Theologia Ger-
manica, p. 235. Gf. Riedler, op. cit.9 p. 165, note 37, on Eckhart's injunc-
tion, alle Bilder zu lassen und in den Grand einzugehen.
336 GERMAN THEOLOGY
when a man has thus broken loose from and overleaped all tem-
poral things and creatures, he may afterward come to perfection
in a life of contemplation. For he who will have the one must let
the other go. There is no other way.
Chapter XIV
Of Three Stages Which Lead and Bring a Man to True
Perfection
Now be assured that no one can be enlightened unless he has
first cleansed and purified and freed himself. And further, no
one can be united with God unless he has first been enlightened.
And so correspondingly there are three ways: first, purification,
secondly, enlightening, thirdly, union. Purification belongs to
such as are beginning and repenting, and takes place in three
ways: by contrition and sorrow for sin, by full and free confes-
sion, by perfect penitence. Enlightening belongs to such as are
growing, and likewise takes place in three ways, to wit: by the
rejection of sin, by the practice of virtue and good works, and
by the willing endurance of adversity and tribulations. Union
belongs to such as are perfect, and also is brought to pass in three
ways, to wit: by pureness and singleness of heart, by godly love,
and by the contemplation of God,23 the Creator of all things.
Chapter XLIV
How Nothing Is Against God but Self-will,24 and How He Who
Seeks His Best as His Own Finds It Not; and How a Man of
Himself Neither Knows Nor Can Do Any Good Thing
If now it should be asked, "Is there, then, something that is
against God and the true Good?" the answer must be, "No."
Likewise there is nothing without God, except to will otherwise
than is willed by the eternal Will; that is, against the eternal
Will. Now, the eternal Will wills that nothing be willed or loved
but the eternal Good; and where it is otherwise, there is some-
thing against Him; and in this sense it is true that he who is
without God is against God. But in truth there is nothing
against God or the true Good.
We must understand it as though God said: "He who wills
23 Bernhart (p. 158) reads: in gottlicher Liebe und in Betrachtung Gottes. . . .
Riedlcr's Urtext (p. 211): in gotlicher liebe und in beschowunge gotes. . . .
24 Eigenwille.
GERMAN THEOLOGY 337
without me, or wills not as I will, or otherwise than as I will, he
wills against me; for my will is that no one should will otherwise
than I, and that there should be no will without me, and without
my will, even as without me there is neither being nor life, nor
this, nor that. So also there should be no will without me and
my will." And even as in truth all essences are one in essence in
the perfect Essence, and all goods are one in the One, and can-
not exist without that One; so likewise shall all wills be one in
the one perfect Will, and there shall be no will without that
One. And whatever is otherwise is wrong, and against God and
his will, and therefore it is sin. Therefore, all will without God's
will (that is, all self-will) is sin, and so is all that comes of self-
will. So long as a man seeks his self-will and his best as his, and
for his own sake, he will never find it. For so long as he does
this, he is not seeking his best, and how, then, should he find it?
For so long as he does this, he seeks himself, and imagines that
he is himself the best; and seeing that he is not the best, he seeks
not the best so long as he seeks himself. But whosoever seeks,
loves, and pursues the Good for the sake of the Good and for
nothing but the love of the Good, not as from the me, or as the
I, me, mine, or for the sake of the me, he will find it, for he seeks
it aright. And they who seek it otherwise err. Truly it is in this
wise that the true and perfect Good seeks and loves and pursues
itself, and therefore it finds itself.
It is a great folly when a man or any creature conceives that
it knows or can accomplish aught of itself, and above all when
it imagines that it knows or can accomplish any good thing,
whereby it may deserve much at God's hands and prevail with
him. Rightly considered, this is to put a great affront upon God.
But the true and perfect Good overlooks it in the foolish, simple
man who knows no better, and orders things for the best for
him, and God gladly gives him as many good things as he is able
to receive. But as we have said before, he finds and receives it
not so long as he remains unchanged; for I-hood and selfhood
must depart, 25 otherwise he will never find and receive it.
Chapter XLV
How that Where There Is the Christ Life, There Christ Is Also,
and How the Christ Life Is the Best and Most Precious Life That
Ever Has Been or Can Be
He who knows and recognizes the Christ life, knows and
25 Bernhart, p. 239: denn die Ichheit und Selbstheit muss hineweg. . . .
22—L.M.M.
338 GERMAN THEOLOGY
recognizes Christ also. And in like manner, he who knows not
that life, knows not Christ either. He who believes in Christ
believes that his life is the best and most precious life that ever
was; and if a man believe not this, neither does he believe in
Christ. And in so far as the Christ life is in a man, Christ is in
him, and the less of the one, the less of the other. For where
there is the Christ life, there is Christ also, and where his life
is not, Christ is not. But where the Christ life is, the man must
say with Saint Paul, "I live, yet not I, but Christ lives in me." 26
And this is the most precious and best life; for in him who has
it, God himself is and dwells, with all goodness. How could
there be a better life? When we speak of obedience, of the new
man, of the true Light, the true Love, or the Christ life, it is all
the same thing. And where one of these is, there are they all,
and where one is wanting or lacking, there is none of them, for
they are all one in truth and essence. The means whereby a man
may bring it about that all these are born and come to life in
him, to those let us cleave with all our might and to nought else.
And let us forswear and flee all that hinders it. He who has
received it in the Holy Sacrament, has verily and indeed re-
ceived Christ; and the more of it he has received, the more he
has received Christ, and the less, the less of Christ.
Chapter XLVI
How Entire Satisfaction and True Rest Are to Be Found in God
Alone, and Not in Any Creature; and How He Who Will Be
Obedient to God Must Also Be Passively Obedient to All Creatures,
and He Who Would Love God Must Also Love All Things
It is said, "He who is content to find his satisfaction in God,
has enough," and this is true. And he who finds satisfaction in
aught which is this or that, finds it not in God; and he who finds
it in God finds it in nought else, save in that which is neither
this nor that, but is All. For God is the One and must be the
One, and God is All and must be All. Therefore, what is, and
is not the One, is not God; and what is, and is not All and above
All, is also not God. For God is the One and above the One,
and is All and above All. Therefore he who finds satisfaction in
God, his satisfaction is the One, and is all in the One. And he to
whom the One is not all and all not the One, and to whom
something and nothing are not one and the same, cannot find
26 Gal. 2:20.
GERMAN THEOLOGY 339
satisfaction in God. But where it should be thus, there would be
true satisfaction, and not else.
Indeed, he who will wholly commit himself to God and be
obedient to him, must also resign himself to all things passively,
and be obedient to them, without resisting or defending himself
or any evasion. And he who is not thus resigned, and obedient to
all things in the One, and as the One, is not resigned and obedi-
ent to God. This we may see in Christ. He who will suffer God
must suffer all in the One, and in no wise resist any suffering.
But this is to be Christ. He who resists suffering and refuses to
endure it will not and cannot suffer God. That is to say, we may
not withstand any creature or thing by force or fighting, either
in will or in works. But we may indeed without sin prevent
affliction, or avoid it and evade it.
Now, he who will hold to God loves all things in the One
which is One and All, and the One in All, because All is in the
One; and he who loves somewhat, this or that, otherwise than
in the One, and for the sake of the One, loves not God; for he
loves somewhat which is not God, therefore he loves it more
than God. But he who loves somewhat more than God, or
equally with God, loves not God; for God must be and will be
alone loved, and in truth nothing ought to be loved but God
alone. And when the true Light and the true divine Love dwell
in a man, he loves nothing else but God alone. For he loves God
as the Good and for the sake of the Good, and all goods as One,
and One as All. For, verily, All is One and One is All in God.
Chapter XLVII
A Question: Whether, If We Ought to Love All Things, We
Ought to Love Sin Also?
Some may put a question here and say, "If we are to love all
things, must we then love sin also?" I answer, "No." When we
say "all things," we mean the good. And all that is, is good, in
virtue of having being. The devil is good in virtue of having
being. In this sense nothing is evil, or not good. But sin is to
will, desire, or love otherwise than as God does. And willing is
not essence, therefore it is not good. A thing is good only in so
far as it is in God and with God. Now all things have their
essence in God, and more truly in God than in themselves, and
therefore all things are good in their essence. And if there were
anything that had not its essence in God, it would not be good.
340 GERMAN THEOLOGY
Now behold, the willing or desiring which is against God is not
in God. For God cannot will or desire against God, or otherwise
than God. Therefore it is evil, or not good, or merely nought.
God loves also works, but not all works. Which then? Such as
follow from the teaching and guidance of the true Light and
from the true Love. What comes to pass from these comes to
pass in the spirit and in the truth, and what is thereof is God's,
and pleases him well. But what comes to pass from false light
and false love is all evil. And especially what comes to pass and
is done or left undone, wrought or suffered, from any other will
and desire and from any other love than God's will, and his
love. This is, and comes to pass, without God and against God,
is contrary to God's work, and is altogether sin.
Chapter XLVIII
How We Must Believe Certain Things of Divine Truth Before-
hand, Ere We Can Come to a True Knowledge and Experience of
Divine Truth
Christ said, "He that believes not, and will not or cannot
believe, is lost and shall be damned." 27 It is so in truth. For a
man who is come into this temporal world, has not knowledge;
and he cannot come to knowledge unless he first believe. And
he who would know before he believes comes never to true
knowledge. We speak not here of the articles of the blessed faith,
for everyone believes them, and they are common to every
Christian man, whether he be sinful or saved, wicked or good.
That we must first believe, for without first believing we cannot
come to knowledge, applies to Truth; that which it is possible
to know and learn, must be believed before it is known or
learned, else you will never come to true knowledge. This is the
faith that Christ means.
Chapter XLIX
Of Self-will, and How Lucifer and Adam Fell from God Through
Self-will
It has been said that there is of nothing so much in hell as of
self-will. For hell is nothing but self-will, and if there were no
self-will there would be no devil and no hell. When it is said that
27 Cf. Mark 16:16.
GERMAN THEOLOGY 34I
Lucifer fell from heaven, and turned away from God and the
like, it means nothing else than that he would have his own will,
and would not be of one will with the eternal Will. So was it
likewise with Adam in Paradise. And when we say "self-will,"
we mean: "to will otherwise than as the One and eternal Will
of God wills."
Chapter L
How This Temporal World Is a Paradise and Outer Court of
Heaven, and How Therein There Is Only One Tree Forbidden,
That Is, Self-will
But what is Paradise? All things that are; for all that is, is
good and joyous. Therefore it is called a Paradise, and is so
indeed. It is said also that Paradise is an outer court of heaven.
Even so, all there is, is verily an outer court of the Eternal and of
eternity, and especially what we may recognize and know of
God and eternity, in time and in temporal things and in crea-
tures. For the creatures are a guide and a way to God and to
eternity. Thus all this is an outer court or forecourt of eternity;
and therefore it may well be called a Paradise, and be so in
truth. And in this Paradise all things are lawful that are therein,
save one tree and the fruits thereof. That is to say, in all that is
there is nothing forbidden and nothing contrary to God but one
thing only, that is, self-will, or to will otherwise than as the
eternal Will wills. Take this to heart! For God says to Adam,
that is, to every man, "Whatever thou art, or doest, or leavest
undone, or whatever cometh to pass, is all lawful and not for-
bidden if it come not to pass from thy will but from mine." 28
But all that comes to pass from thine own will is against the
eternal Will. It is not that all works which come to pass are
against the eternal Will, but when they come to pass from a
different will, or otherwise than from the eternal and divine
Will.
Chapter LI
Wherefore God Has Created Self will, Seeing that It Is So
Contrary to Him
Now some may ask: "Since this tree, to wit, self-will, is so
contrary to God and the eternal Will, wherefore has God
created it, and set it in Paradise?" Answer: Whatever man or
28 Gen. 2:16 ff.
342 GERMAN THEOLOGY
creature desires to understand and know the secret counsel and
will of God, so that he would fain know wherefore God does
this, or does not that, and the like, desires the same as Adam
did and the devil. And so long as this desire persists, the truth
will never be known to him, and the man is even as Adam or the
devil. For this desire is seldom from aught else than that the
man takes delight in knowing and glories therein, and this is
sheer pride. A truly humble and enlightened man does not
desire of God that he should reveal his secrets to him, nor ask
wherefore God does this or that, or hinders or allows such a
thing, and so forth; but all his care is to please God only, and to
become as nought in himself, having no will, and that the eter-
nal Will may live in him, and have full possession of him, un-
hindered by any other will, and how its due may be rendered to
the eternal Will, by him and through him.
However, there is yet another answer to this question, for we
may say: The most precious and joyful thing that is in any
creature is cognition, or reason, and will, and these two are
bound together; where the one is, there the other is also. And
were there not these two, there would be no reasonable crea-
tures, but only brutes and brutishness. And that were a great
loss, for then God could not have his due nor put his properties,
of which we have before spoken, to work, which yet is necessary
and requisite for his perfection. Now, behold, cognition and
reason is created and bestowed along with will; and it must
teach the will, and also itself, that neither cognition nor will is
of itself, and that neither of them may belong to itself or demand
and will of itself, that neither of them may employ itself or profit
itself for its own sake; nay, that His they are from whom they
proceed, and to him shall they submit, and flow back into him,
and become nought in themselves, that is, in their selfhood.
But here you must consider more particularly somewhat con-
cerning the will. There is an eternal Will, which is in God
originally and essentially, apart from all works and working,
and the same Will is in man, or the creature, working and will-
ing,29 for it belongs to the Will and is its property that it shall
will. Were this not so, what else should it do? For it were in vain,
unless it had some work to do. And this cannot come to pass
without the creature. Therefore there must be creatures, and
God will have them, to the end that the Will may have and
work its proper work in them, which Will in God is and must be
29 Gf. cap. 31 and the typical Eckhartian distinction between the acting
Gott and the nonacting Gottheit. Riedler, op. cit., p. 173, note 76.
GERMAN THEOLOGY 343
apart from working. Therefore the Will in the creature, which
we call a created will, is as truly God's as the eternal Will, and
is not a property of the creature. Since God cannot will works
and changes without the creature, therefore it pleases him to do
this in and with the creature. Therefore the creature should not
will with this same Will, but God alone should will works with
this Will, which is in man and yet belongs to God alone. And in
whatever man or creature it should be purely and wholly thus,
the Will would be exerted, not by the man but by God, and
thus it would not be self-will, and the man would not will other-
wise than as God wills. For God himself would will in him, and
not the man, and that Will would be one with the eternal Will,
and have flowed out into it.
But the man would still keep his sense of loving and loathing,
pleasure and pain, and the like. For wherever the Will wills
works, there must be that which is loved or that which is
loathed; for if things go according to His Will, the man loves it,
and if they do not, he loathes it, and this loving and loathing
likewise is not of the man, but of God. Now the Will comes not
of man but of God, therefore loving and loathing is also His,
and nothing is complained of, save only what is contrary to God.
So also there is no joy but from God alone, and from that which
is God's. Now, as it is with the will, so it is also with cognition,
reason, resources, love, and whatever is in man; they are all of
God, and not of man. And wherever the Will should be alto-
gether surrendered to God, the rest would of a certainty be sur-
. endered likewise, and God would have his right, and the man's
will would not be self-will. Behold, therefore has God created
the Will, but not that it should be self-will.
Now comes the devil or Adam, that is to say, false nature, and
takes this Will into itself and makes the same its own, and uses it
for itself and its own ends. And this is the ruin and wrong, and
the bite that Adam took of the apple, and this is forbidden, be-
cause it is against God. And therefore, how long soever, and
wheresoever there is any self-will, there true love, true peace,
true rest will never come. This we see both in man and in the
devil. And so never will true blessedness arise, either in time or
in eternity, there where this self-will rules, that is to say, where
man is the usurper, arrogating the Will to himself and making
it his own. And if self-will be not surrendered in time, but a man
carry it over with him out of time, it may be foreseen that it can
never be vanquished. So it is true that, there also, neither con-
tent nor peace, rest nor blessedness, will ever come to growth.
344 GERMAN THEOLOGY
This we may see by the devil. If there were no reason or will in
the creatures, God were, and must remain, unknown, unloved,
unpraised, and unhonored, and all the creatures were worth
nothing, and were of no avail to God. Behold, thus the question
is answered. And were there any who might be led to amend
their ways by these many words and long considerations (which
yet are short and profitable before God), this were well-pleasing
to God.
That which is free none may call his own, and he who makes
it his own does wrong. Now, among all free things, none is freer
than, or so free as, the Will, and he who makes it his own, and
suffers it not to remain in its noble freedom, in its free nobility
and free nature, does a grievous wrong. This is what the devil
and Adam and all their followers do. But he who leaves the Will
in its noble freedom does right, and this is what Christ and all
his followers do. Whoso robs the Will of its noble freedom and
makes it his own, must of necessity as his reward, be laden with
cares and trouble, with discontent, disquiet, strife, unrest, and
all manner of wretchedness, and this will remain and endure in
time and in eternity. But he who leaves the Will in its free nature
has content, peace, rest, and blessedness in time and in eternity.
Wherever there is a man in whom the Will is not usurped but
continues in its noble freedom, there is the true freeman, know-
ing no bondage, of whom Christ said, "The truth shall make
you free"; and immediately after, "If the Son shall make you
free, ye shall be free indeed."
And now mark: In whatever man the Will enjoys its freedom
it does its proper work, that is, willing; and if now it may choose
as it will, unhindered, it chooses always the noblest and best in
all things, and all that is not noble and good is contrary to it and
makes it suffer and complain. And the more free and unhin-
dered the Will is, the more is it pained by that which is not good,
and unrighteousness, and vice, and in short all manner of
wickedness and all that is called and is sin, and the more do
they make it suffer and complain. This we see in Christ. The
Will in him was free and unhindered and unusurped as it was
never in any man, nor ever will be. So likewise was Christ's
human nature the most free and single of all creatures, and yet
suffered the deepest grief, pain, and indignation at sin (that is,
at all that is against God) that any creature ever felt.
But when men arrogate freedom to themselves, so as to feel
no sorrow or indignation at sin and what is against God, but
say that we must heed nothing and care for nothing, but even
GERMAN THEOLOGY 345
now, in time, be as Christ was after his resurrection—there is no
true and divine freedom springing from true divine Light, but a
natural, unrighteous, false, and deceived freedom, springing
from natural, false, and deceived light.
Were there not this self-will, this will of the creature's own,
there were likewise no property, nothing owned. In heaven
there is nothing owned, wherefore in heaven there reign con-
tent, true peace, and all bliss. Were there one in heaven who
presumed to own aught, he would instantly be cast out into hell,
and would become a devil. But in hell each will have his own
will, therefore in hell there reign pure wretchedness and bale.
So it is also in the temporal world. But were there one in hell
who were without self-will, owning neither will nor aught else,
he would come out of hell into heaven. Now, in this temporal
world, man stands between heaven and hell, and can turn him-
self to which of them he will. For the more of own, the more of
hell and bale, and the less of own self-will, the less of hell and
the nearer to heaven. And could a man in this temporal world
be wholly without self-will or aught else of his own, and stand
up quit and free, being lightened by the true divine Light and
Love, his were indeed the Kingdom of Heaven.30 He who has
or wills or wishes aught of his own is himself owned, and he who
has and wills naught of his own, and desires to have naught, is
quit and free and owned of naught.
All that has been here said Christ taught in words and ful-
filled in works for three and thirty years. And he teaches it to us
very briefly when he says, "Follow me." But he who will follow
him must forsake all things, for in Him all things were so wholly
forsaken as never in any creature else they were or will be.
Moreover, he who will follow Him, must take up the cross, and
the cross is nothing else than the Christ life, for that is a bitter
cross to all nature. Therefore he says, "He that renounces not
all things and takes not up the cross is not worthy of me, and
cannot be my disciple, and follows me not." 31 But false, free
nature imagines that it has forsaken all things; yet it will have
none of the cross, and says it has had enough of it already, and
needs it no longer; and thus is it deceived. For had it ever tasted
the cross, it would never forsake it. He that believes in Christ
must believe all that is here written.
30
. . . ihm ware das Himmelreich gewiss. Bernhart, op. cit.f p . 255.
31
Matt. 10:38; Luke 14:^7.
GERMAN THEOLOGY
Chapter HI
How We Must Take Those Two Sayings of Christ: "JVb Man
Cometh Unto the Father, but by Me" and "JVb Man Cometh Unto
Me, Except the Father Draw Him"
Christ says: "No man cometh unto the Father, but by me." 32
Now mark how we must have come unto the Father through
Christ. Over himself, and all that belongs to him, within and
without, the man shall set a watch, and shall so govern, and
guard himself, as far as in him lies, that neither will nor desire,
love nor longing, wish nor thought, shall spring up in his heart,
or have any abiding place in him, save such as belong to God
and would be meet for Him, if God himself were that man. And
whenever he becomes aware of aught rising up within him that
does not belong to God and is not meet for Him, he must resist
it and root it out, as thoroughly and as speedily as he may. And
even so shall it be with his outward behavior also, whether he
do or refrain, speak or keep silence, wake or sleep, go or stand
still, in short, in all his ways and walks, whether touching his
own business or his dealings with other men: to the end that he
shall watch over all these, lest in him he suffer aught to spring
up or dwell, inwardly or outwardly, or lest aught be done in him
or through him other than what would belong to God, and
would be possible and meet for Him, if God himself were that
man.
Behold! he in whom it should be thus, whatever he had with-
in, or did without, would be all of God, and the man would be
a follower of Christ in His life, as we understand it and set it
forth. And he who led such a life would go in and out through
Christ, for he would be a follower of Christ. Therefore also he
would come with Christ unto the Father, and through Christ.
And he would be also a servant of Christ, for he who follows him
is his servant, as he himself also says, "If any man serve me, let
him follow me" 33 (as if he said, "He who follows me not,
neither does he serve me"). And he who is thus a servant and
follower of Christ, comes even to that place where Christ is;
that is, unto the Father. So Christ himself says: "Father, I will
that my servants be with me where I am." 34 Behold, he who
walks in this way, "entereth in by the door into the sheepfold,"
that is, into eternal life, "and to him the porter openeth." 35
But he who walks in some other way, or imagines that he can
32 John 14:6. 33 John 12:26.
34 John 17:24. 35 John 10:1, 3.
GERMAN THEOLOGY 347
come to the Father or to eternal blessedness otherwise than
through Christ, is deceived; for he walks not in the right Way,
nor enters in by the right Door. Therefore to him the porter
opens not, for he is a thief and a murderer, as Christ names him.
Lo, now consider whether a man may live in lawless freedom
and license, disregarding virtue and vice, order and disorder,
and the like; consider well whether, so living, he walks in the
right Way and enters in by the right Door! Such heedlessness was
not in Christ, neither is it in any of his true followers.
Chapter LIII
Considers That Other Saying: "JVb Man Cometh Unto Me,
Except the Father Draw Him"
Christ says further: "No man cometh unto me, except the
Father draw him." 36 Now mark: By the Father, I understand
the perfect, simple Good, which is All and above All, and with-
out which and besides which there is no true Essence nor true
Good, and without which no good work ever was or will be
done. And in that it is All, it must be in All and above All. And
it cannot be any one of those things which the creature, as
creature, can comprehend and understand. For whatever the
creature, as creature, can comprehend and understand, con-
forms with its creature nature; it is something, this or that, and
therefore is likewise all creature. Now if the simple perfect Good
were a something, this or that, which the creature understands,
it would not be All, and in All, and therefore also not perfect.
Therefore we name it also "Nothing"; 37 meaning thereby that
it is none of all the things which the creature can comprehend,
know, conceive, or name, in virtue of its creature nature. Now
behold, when this Perfect and Unnamable flows into a person
able to bring forth, and brings forth the only-begotten Son in
that person, and itself in him, we call it the Father.
Now hear how the Father draws men to Christ. When some-
what of this perfect Good is discovered and revealed to the soul
of man, as it were in a vision or an ecstasy, there is born in the
man a longing to draw near to the perfect Goodness, and unite
himself with the Father. And the stronger this longing grows,
the more is revealed to the man; and the more is revealed to
36 John 6:44.
37 Darum nennt man es auch Nichts (Bernhart, p . 259). Cf. Riedler, op. cit.,
p. 143 and p. 154, in relation to cap. 1. OF. Bernhart-Trask, Theologia
Germanica, p. 114 and Introduction, pp. 96 ff.
348 GERMAN THEOLOGY
him, the more he longs and is drawn. In such wise is a man
drawn and called to a union with the eternal Goodness. And
this is the drawing of the Father, and thus the man is taught of
Him who draws him, that he cannot come to that union except
he come by the Christ life. Behold! now he puts on that life, of
which I have spoken before.
Now consider again those two sayings of Christ's. The one:
"No man cometh unto the Father, but by me"; that is, through
my life, as set forth above. The other saying: "No man cometh
unto me," that is, he does not take my life upon him and follow
me, "except he be moved and drawn of my Father"; that is, of
the simple and perfect Good, of which Saint Paul says: "When
that which is perfect is come, then, that which is in part shall be
done away." That is to say: In whatever man this Perfect is
known, felt, and tasted, so far as may be in this temporal world,
to that man all created things seem as nought compared with
the Perfect, as in truth they are. For beside or without the Per-
fect is neither true Good nor true Essence. Whosoever, then, has,
recognizes, and loves the Perfect, has and recognizes all that is
good. What more or else, then, should he want, or what is all
that "is in part" to him, seeing that all the parts are united in
the Perfect, in the one Essence.
What has here been said wholly concerns the outward life; it
is the way or access to the true inward life. But the inward life
begins in this wise: Once a man has tasted the Perfect as far as
is possible in this temporal world, all created things, and even
himself, become as nought to him. And when he recognizes in
truth that the Perfect alone is All and above All, it needs must
follow that he ascribes all that is good, such as essence, life,
cognition, knowledge, power, and the like, to the Perfect alone,
and to no creature. Hence it follows that the man arrogates
nothing to himself, neither Essence nor Life, Knowledge nor
Power, Doing nor Refraining, nor anything that we can call
good. And thus the man comes wholly to poorness, and indeed
he becomes nought to himself, and in him becomes nought all
that is somewhat, that is, all created things. Such is the first
beginning of his true inward life; and, thereafter, God himself
becomes the man, so that nothing is left that is not God or of
God, and nothing is left that arrogates anything to itself. And
thus God himself, that is, the one eternal Perfect alone, is, lives,
knows, works, loves, wills, does, and refrains in the man. And
thus should it be in truth, and where it is otherwise, let it be
improved and rectified.
GERMAN THEOLOGY 349
And the good way or access is to look to it that the best be
always the most loved, and to choose the best, and cleave to it,
and unite oneself to it. First: In the creatures. But what is best
in the creatures? Be assured: That, in which the eternal perfect
Goodness and what is thereof, that is, all which belongs thereto,
is most manifested and works, and is best recognized and loved.
But what is that which is of God, and belongs to him? I answer:
Whatever with justice and truth we may call good. When there-
fore among the creatures a man cleaves to that which is the best
that he can recognize, and keeps steadfastly to that, and does
not backslide, he comes time after time to a better, until at
last he recognizes and tastes that the eternal Good is a perfect
Good, immeasurably and numberlessly above all created
good.
Now, if what is best is to be most loved by us, and we are to
follow after it, the one eternal Good must be loved above all and
alone, and we must cleave to it alone, and unite ourselves with
it as much as we may. And, now, if we must ascribe all good
things to the one eternal Good, as of right and truth we ought,
so must we also of right and truth ascribe to it our beginning,
progress, and perfection, so that nothing remain to man or the
creature. So it should be in truth, let men write and rhyme what
they will. On this wise we should attain to a true inward life.
And what then further befalls, what is revealed to us, and what
our life is thenceforward, none can rhyme or write. It has never
been uttered by man's lips, nor has it entered into the heart of
man to conceive, the manner thereof in truth.
This our long discourse, briefly recapitulated, declares: In
right and truth there should be in a man nought which would
arrogate aught to itself, or desire, will, love, or strive after
aught in all things, save only God and what is divine, that is:
the one, eternal, perfect Goodness.
But if there be aught else in a man, so that he arrogates some-
what to himself, or wills, strives after, and desires this or that,
whatever it may be, beside or more than the eternal and perfect
Good, which is God himself, this is all too much and a great
fault, and hinders the man from a perfect life; wherefore he can
never reach the perfect Good, unless he first forsake all things
and himself first of all. For no man can serve two masters who
are contrary the one to the other. He who will have the one
must let the other go. Therefore, if the Creator shall enter in, all
creature must depart. Of this be assured.
35° GERMAN THEOLOGY
Chapter LIV
How a Man Shall Not Seek His Own in Aught, Either in Things
Spiritual or Natural, but the Honor of God Only; and How He
Must Enter in by the Right Door, to Wit, by Christ, Into Eternal
Life
If a man may attain thereunto, to be unto God as his hand is
to a man, let him be therewith content, and not seek further;
this is my faithful counsel, and here I take my stand. That is to
say, let him exercise and accustom himself to obey God and His
commandments so thoroughly at all times and in all things that,
neither in his spirit nor his nature, shall he find aught of resist-
ance remaining, so that his whole soul and body with all their
members may stand ready and willing for that to which God has
created them; as ready and willing as his hand is to a man. For
a man's hand is so wholly in his power that in the twinkling of
an eye he moves and turns it as he will. And when we find it
otherwise with us, we must give our whole diligence to amend
our state; and this must come to pass from love and not from
fear, and in all things whatsoever, we must fix our aim upon
God and seek his glory and praise alone. We must not seek our
own, neither in things spiritual nor in things natural. And it
must needs be thus, if indeed it is to stand well with us. And
every creature owes this of right and truth to God, and espe-
cially man, to whom, by the ordinance of God, all creatures are
made subject, and are servants, that he may be subject to and
serve God only.
Take this, too, to heart: When a man has climbed so high
that he imagines and is persuaded that he has attained his goal,
then is the time for him to beware, lest the devil be strewing
ashes and sowing his seed, and nature seek and take comfort and
rest, peace and delight, therein, and thus he fall into that foolish,
lawless freedom and heedlessness which is so wholly a stranger
to, and at war with, a truly godly life. And this will happen
to that man who has not entered in, or refuses to enter in, by the
right Way and the right Door (which is Christ, as we have said),
and imagines that he could come by another door and another
way to the highest truth. Perhaps he even thinks that he has
attained thereto, but verily he has not. And our witness is
Christ, who declares, "He that will enter otherwise than
through me, comes not in, nor comes to the highest truth, but
is a thief and a murderer." 38 A thief, for he robs God of His
38 John 10:1.
GERMAN THEOLOGY 351
honor and glory, which belong to God alone; he arrogates them
to himself, and seeks and purposes himself. He is a murderer, for
he slays his own soul, and takes away her life, which is God him-
self. For as the body lives by the soul, even so the soul lives by
God. Moreover, he murders all those who follow him, by his
doctrine and example. For Christ says, "I came not to do my
own will, but the will of my Father in heaven that sent me." 39
And again: "Why call ye me Lord, Lord, and do not the things
which I say?"40 as if he would say, "It will avail you nothing
to eternal life." And again, "Not every one that says unto me,
Lord, Lord, shall enter into the Kingdom of Heaven; but he
that does the will of my Father which is in heaven."41 And he
says also, "If thou wilt enter into eternal life, keep God's com-
mandments." 42 But what are God's commandments? They are
this: "Love God in all things with all thy heart, and thy neigh-
bor as thyself. In these two commandments lie all other com-
mandments." 43 There is nothing dearer to God, and more
profitable to man, than humble obedience. To him, one good
work wrought from true obedience is dearer than a hundred
thousand wrought from self-will, contrary to obedience. There-
fore he who has this obedience need fear nothing, for he is in the
right way, and follows after Christ.
That we may thus deny and renounce ourselves, and forsake
all things through God, and die to our own self-will, and live
unto God alone and to his Will, may he help us, who gave up
his Will to his Heavenly Father—Jesus Christ, our dear Lord,
who is blessed above all things forever. Amen.
HERE ENDS THE FRANKFURTER.

TO THE LORD BE PRAISE AND HONOR
AND TO THE NOBLE QUEEN AND VIRGIN,
MARY, MOTHER OF GOD. AMEN.
1497 ON THE DAY
OF THE BLESSED MARTYRS
COSMAS AND DAMIAN.
1497
Sit laus vitam humilianti in semetipso.
39 John 6:38. 40 Luke 6:46. 4i Matt. 7:21.

42 Matt. 19:17. 43 Luke 10:27; Matt. 22:37 ff.
XII
Nicholas of Cusa (i401-1464)
INTRODUCTION
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
n ICHOLAS KREBS, SON OF A MOSELLE SHIP'S MASTER,

was born at Cusa in 1401. With instruction begun at
Deventer under the Brethren of the Common Life in
1413, he studied successively at Heidelberg (1416-1417),
Padua (1417-1423), Rome (1423), and Cologne (1425). In
1426 he became secretary of the papal legate, Cardinal Orsini.
Elevated to the priesthood, he was made dean of St. Florin in
Coblenz about 1430. Commissioned in 1431 to represent Ulrich
von Manderscheid's interests at Basel, he was admitted to the
Conciliar college in 1432. Here he participated in negotiations
with the Hussites and wrote his Catholic Concordance, 1433. He was
a member of the legation to Constantinople seeking East-West
union in 1437. Having gone over to the papal party in 1438, he
served until 1448 as envoy of Eugenius IV in the Imperial Diet.
Between his writing On Learned Ignorance in 1440 and The Vision
of God in 1453, he was in 1448 made a cardinal, with St. Peter in
Chains as his titular church. He was declared bishop of Brixen
in 1450. He made sweeping trips throughout Germany (1451-
52) as papal legate for reform. In Brixen after 1457 he collided
with Duke Sigismund of Tirol over episcopal rights and spent
his last years in exile employed in scholarly pursuits. He died in
Todi, 1464.
E. Vansteenberghe has an excellent article in the Dictionnaire
de theologie catholique, Vol. 11, pt. 1 (1931), cols. 601-612. Com-
pare with this his biography, Le cardinal Nicolas de Cues, Paris,
1920. H. Bett, Nicholas of Cusa, London, 1932, is useful. The
352
INTRODUCTION 353
Opera omnia in the three-volume edition of J. Lefevre d'fitaples
of Paris, 1514, was reissued, 3 vols. in 1, by Henri Petrus in
Basel, 1565. In the critical Opera omnia of E. Hoffmann-R.
Klibansky-G. Kallen, published by F. Meiner, at Leipzig, De
docta ignorantia is Vol. I (1932), the Apologia doctae ignorantiae is
Vol. II (1932). Of basic worth are P. Rotta, De docta ignorantia
. . . Bari, 1913, and A. Petzelt, Nicolaus von Cues, Texte seiner
philosophischen Schriften (based on the 1514 and 1565 editions),
W. Kohlhammer, Stuttgart, 1949, with Vol. I, including both
the De docta and the Apologia. Modern translations are L.
Moulinier, De la docte ignorance, Felix Alcan, Paris, 1930, Fr. G.
Heron, Of Learned Ignorance, Routledge & Kegan Paul, London,
1954, and M. de Gandillac, (Euvres choisies, Paris, 1942. Good
translations of The Vision of God are Vansteenberghe's La vision
de Dieu, Paris, 1925, and, largely based on this and the Basel
text, E. G. Salter's Nicholas of Cusa: The Vision of God, J. M.
Dent & Sons, Ltd., London, and E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc., New
York, 1928. A good German text with full notes is E. Bohnen-
staedt, Von Gottes Sehen, F. Meiner, Leipzig, 1942, 1944. Indis-
pensable studies with literature include M. de Gandillac's La
philosophie de Nicolas de Cues, Aubier, Paris, 1941, revised edition,
Nikolaus von Cues, L. Schwann, Diisseldorf, 1953, and E. Hoff-
mann, Das Universum des Nicolaus von Cues, Heidelberg, 1930. See
articles by Bohnenstaedt and P. Wilpert on mysticism and the
coincidentia oppositorum in J. Koch, Humanismus, Mystik und Kunst
in der Welt des Mittelalters, Cologne, 1953. See Wentzlaff-Egge-
bert, op. cii., pp. 150-160, 320-323.
On the relation of On Learned Ignorance and the Dionysian
theology to The Vision of God, see E. Underbill's introduction to
Salter's translation above, pp. xiff.; and pp. xxv ff., on the
'"complication" and the "explication." Gilson, History, pp.
534-40, is enlightening. Consult the "Correspondance" of Cusa
and his friends in Vansteenberghe, "Autour de la docte igno-
rance," Beitrdge, Vol. 14, pt. 2, pp. 107 ff. Regarding the coinci-
dence of knowledge and ignorance as learned ignorance and the
relation of the vision of God to love and faith, see Letter 4
(l45z)> PP- 111-113- For the mystical theology of Dionysius as
surpassing both affirmative and negative theology, and the im-
possibility of seeing God mystically except by ''copulative
theology" and in the cloud of coincidence that blots out all
contradiction, see Letter 5 (1453), pp. 113-117; also Vansteen-
berghe, Vision, pp. xvi-xvii. Cusa interprets this whole mysti-
cal theology, this vision of God, as an entering into absolute
23—L.M.M.
354 NICHOLAS OF CUSA
infinity itself, inasmuch as infinity is the coincidence of contra-
diction and "end without end." No one is able to see God mys-
tically except in the cloud or fog of coincidence, which is infinity
(et nemo potest Deum mistice videre nisi in caligine coincidencie, que est
infinitas), p. 116. The little book on mystical theology, this prac-
tical treatise (hancpraxim experimentalem), Cusa was about to send
the Benedictines of Tegernsee, was The Vision of God. This little
booklet, far from propounding speculative subtleties, was
frankly calculated to whet the taste for spiritual research, to
inculcate an experiential knowledge of mystical theology (omnia
scibilia quodam experimento venari poteritis, maxime in mistica theo-
logia). Vansteenberghe, "Correspondance," Beitrdge, Vol. 14,
pt. 2, p. 116; Vision, pp. xvii ff.
SYNOPSIS
Cusa has been sympathetically assessed by his biographer as

a metaphysician by temperament, a theologian by task, an
apostle by vocation. Nicholas' On Learned Ignorance constitutes a
remarkable synthesis of his thought and method. He surmounts
sheer dialectic and nominalist assumptions alike. He subscribes
to the reality sought by metaphysics and theology. Nevertheless,
he places sharp limitations upon the mind's attempt to reach it.
Man's very knowledge of his impotence to command the full
truth about anything constitutes the highest science of which
humanity is capable. This is the "learned ignorance" upon
which Cusa comes to rely so heavily in his preparation for the
mystic vision—his Vision of God.
Cusa concurs in the Socratic conviction that the thing we
know best is the fact that we know nothing. This paradox stems
from the disjunction between truth on the one hand and knowl-
edge on the other. In humiliating contrast with truth which is
absolute, one, and infinitely simple, knowledge presents itself as
necessarily relative, complex, and finite. Among the things we
cannot know perfectly is God himself, who is the absolute maxi-
mum and the irreducible unity. Elusive, also, is the quiddity of
things, that is, their essence, of which the truth is in God. All
knowledge is circumscribed and approximate. All science is, at
last, conjectural.1
It is necessary, then, to seek the truth beyond reason. This
simple, absolute maximum, this infinite truth, is beyond our
comprehension. Rational knowledge is manifestly superior to
1 Doct. ign., I, 1-3.
INTRODUCTION 355
sensible knowledge. Yet the understanding finds itself thwarted
by the inability of any rational process to resolve contradic-
tions, just as it experiences frustration before the multiplicity of
distinct sensations. All things apprehended by the interplay of
sense, reason, and intellect are so diverse as to preclude any pre-
cise equality therein. The maximum equality, which is the very
antithesis of diversity, is completely beyond our understanding.2
For man to get at truth, therefore—to apprehend the unique
maximum which is absolutely simple—he must, somehow,
transcend discursive reason and the imagination, even as he
raises himself above the confusing ramifications of sense. Man is
compelled to eject or spew out all things attained by sense,
imagination, or reason with its natural additions. He is forced to
grasp the maximum in a simple intuition. Intelligence adequate
to the laying hold upon absolute, intelligent Being will enable
man to attain simplicity or "the coincidence of contraries." The
intellect is thus enabled to rise by simple intuition above dif-
ferences, diversities, and mathematical figures.3
The philosophy that seeks to understand why the maximum
unity must be a trinity can obviously expect no Help from the
imagination or the reason. Cusa's appeal to the coincidence of
the maximum and the minimum, to the coincidence of contra-
dictions, will be, then, at base, less a matter of ordinary reason
than of mystical speculation or contemplation. It will be con-
stituted essentially by an outlook on ultrarational realities that
basically exploits the fundamental idea of faith. Faith comprises
or enfolds everything intelligible. Understanding explicates or
unfolds what was complicated or enfolded. The intelligence gets
direction from faith. Faith itself is extended by understanding,
which is impossible without faith. The most perfect faith will be
founded on Jesus, who is the Truth itself.4
Such speculations will presume less to be true than to be
beautiful and beneficent. They will open up before the spirit
charming vistas which will invite the soul to adhere, by faith
and love, to the truth glimpsed in the obscurity of mystery. The
humblest people, living daily by their faith in Jesus, who is
God's Word and Power, can be caught up into that simplicity
beyond reason and intelligence which is the third heaven of
pure, simple intellection.
Naturally, this simple intellection will not find adequate ex-
pression in rational language. Cusa will revert to comparisons
2 ibid., I, 4. 3 Ibid., I, 10. 4 ibid., i l l , 11.

and symbols. He will appeal to geometric figures, however in-
adequate.5 It is beyond contraries that the simple eye of the in-
telligence must seek God. This is because God is the being to
which nonbeing does not oppose itself, the one against which
the multiple does not set itself. It is at once the infinitely great
and the infinitely small; the maximum with which the mini-
mum coincides.6 This is the power with which there coincides
the act, the possest. The divine attributes, multiple to our eyes,
coincide in the divine essence. The circle is the perfect figure of
unity and simplicity. All theology is, then, circular as it were.7
Negative theology is superior to affirmative theology.8 Better
than either is that which unites the two. They coincide in
copulative theology.9 God is neither one nor trine. He is the
unity with which the trinity coincides; he is unitrine or triune.10
All is in God. He complicates, comprises, ortf/zfoldsall things
in his infinite simplicity and, at the same time, he is in all things.
He explicates or wnfolds all. The complicatio coincides with the
explication
God's providence unites contraries, and, by consequence, noth-
ing is able to escape him. This providence is at once the center
and circumference of the world. It is everywhere and nowhere.
In a word, it is non aliud.12
John Wenck, professor of theology at Heidelberg, tries to
make Cusa out a pantheist in his De ignota litteratura. Cusa
answers him directly in his Apologia doctae ignorantiae. Because all
things are in God as things caused are in the cause, it hardly fol-
lows that what is caused is itself the cause.13 What, then, of all
this as it affects Cusa's immediately mystical experience? What
of Christ, of the church, of faith, and the rest?
At the summit of the creatures, if one excepts the angels, there
is found human nature, which "complicates" in itself the in-
tellectual nature and the sensible nature. By sin the upward
movement of the universe found itself thwarted and driven
back. It was unable to eventuate except as a superior being
5 Ibid., I, i, 12. ^ Ibid., I, 4. 7 Ibid., I, 21.
s Ibid., I, 24, on the "Positive" and I, 26, on the "Negative."
9 Dejiliatione Dei, Petzelt, op. cit., I, 235.
10
Doct. ign., I, 19.
11 Ibid., II, 3. The Latin complicatio plays upon "folding up," hence "*wfold-
ing," enveloping, comprising, implicating. Explicatio means "enfolding,"
developing, explaining, explicating.
12 Doct. ign., I, 22; II, 11-12.
13
Per hoc enim, quod omnia sunt in Deo ut causata in causa, non sequitur causatum
esse causam. Apol. D. I., fol. 37 v., Petzelt, op. cit., I, 285.
INTRODUCTION 357
reattached it to God. This being was Christ, who was at once
the maximum absolute and the maximum contracted. He was
creator and creature, in the person of whom there coincide
divinity and humanity as well as nature and grace. His human-
ity was not merely individual like that of other men. Jesus was
the perfect man, the "maximum" man, in whom human nature
implicated all the power of the species. As maximal man, there-
fore, he was unable to be born in a purely natural way. The
Father "clothed his Son in human nature by means of the Holy
Spirit," with the aid of the virgin mother. In his Passion and
death, the sins of all men were concentrated and mortified. His
maximal humanity made possible a triumphant destiny for all
those adhering to him in the meritorious union of faith founded in
love. To attain his own proper end, therefore, man must unite
himself as closely as possible to Christ, by faith and works. The
faithful, circumcised, baptized, and brought to death in him,
are likewise resurrected to new life in him. Christ appeared,
therefore, in the proper order of things and in the fullness of
time as a natura media, "complicating" or "enfolding" in himself
all natures and thus leading the entire universe to the highest
possible degree of perfection. In him maximum and minimum
coincide; maximum humiliation is joined to supreme exalta-
tion.14
As to mystical theology itself, Nicholas saw in the "learned
ignorance" the point of departure. He identified the "coinci-
dence of contraries" with the threshold of paradise where God
hides himself in the cloud. Beyond this, there stretches out the
domain of faith and of vision, says Cusa. Faith must there serve
as guide. It is the beginning of intelligence because it "com-
plicates" or "enfolds" all intelligence. Desire must there impel
one with ardor until the moment when one is raised to "simple
intellectuality" where one passes, so to speak, from slumber to
the state of vigil, from audition to vision. Here one is, like Paul,
ravished in ecstasy and admitted to the intuition of the inef-
fable.^
The faith of which Cusa speaks was already a faith formed by
love. But, to the extent that he meditates on the mystic way, he
understands better how, in order to raise the soul beyond the
wall of coincidence, the way of love is the easiest and the surest;
because God makes himself known to those whom he loves, to
those who love him.
" DocU ign.9 III, 2-6. is ibid., I l l , i i .

Questioned by his monastic friends as to whether the mystic
ascent was to be prosecuted solely by love to the exclusion of all
knowledge, he said, No! He thus ranged himself on the side of
Gerson against the Chartreux Vincent d'Aggsbach. God is
beyond all coincidence of the true and the good. On the other
hand, perfect charity is above the coincidence of containing and
contents. According to Scripture, "The one remaining in love
remains in me and I in him." Therefore, the love of God and
the knowledge of God do not proceed, the one without the
other. At the limit they blend to become one, only.16
The experience of God found in the Vision and On Learned
Ignorance is that of ineffable sweetness and intellectually ordered
delight. The theme of these works, as of the Sermons and many
tracts, is the translatability of God's love revealed in Christ to
the sober work of the world.17 The need and the power of
Christiformity constitute the passionate refrain of his sermonic
exhortations. The joyous burden of his efforts as scholar, teacher,
writer, preacher, scientist, philosopher, conciliarist, bishop, and
cardinal was the application of the contemplative way opened
through Christ to the active way pursued with Christ. In him,
who was the Mediator between God and man, the life of con-
templation has already become the way of action.
The way of faith that is the beginning of understanding, the
learned ignorance by which Paul saw the Christ formerly hid-
den to him, the verities revealing themselves to him who raises
himself to Christ by faith—all these are a part of the vision that
unites the believer to Christ and the holy wisdom with which
contemplation invests itself in action.
Cusa followed the vision celestial into the harvest field of the
world. This is best proved in his works that celebrate the
church, her sacraments, her hierarchy, and her preached gospel
as the servants of the eternal Kingdom in the temporal world.
Here in the Eucharist, Christ the Head, united to the Father,
spiritually vivifies the faithful in a redemptive work in, and for,
the world. Here, then, is the bread of life—Christ the bread-
giving life—bread obtainable only by faith, faith that calls alike
!6 Consult the invaluable work of Vansteenberghe, "Autour de la docte

ignorance," in Beitrdge, Vol. 14, pts. 2-4 (Miinster i/W, 1915), pp. 1-220,
and especially the "Documents," i.e., "Correspondance," pp. 107 ff. See
particularly "Corresp.," nos. 4, 5, 9, 16.
17
See convenient materials in F. U. Scharpff, Wichtigste Schriften, Freiburg,
i/B, 1862, and the Excitationum ex sermonibus, in the Basel Opera. Note, also,
the sermons in this anthology.
INTRODUCTION 359
for the preaching of the gospel and the justifying host. The "love
of your neighbor is not enough, unless it is also in God, and the
existence of the sacrament is necessary for salvation, so that you
may be incorporated in the unity of the body of Christ and the
head of Christ, for otherwise you cannot live."
Nicholas of Cusa (i401-1464)
ON LEARNED IGNORANCE **
THE TEXT
Book /, Chapter i
How "To Know" Is "Not to Know"

We see that, by divine grace, there is within all things a cer-
tain natural desire to be better, in the manner which the natural
condition of each one permits, and that those beings in whom
judgment is innate act toward this end and have the necessary
instruments; this is in accord with the goal of knowledge so that
the longing for it may not be vain, and that it may be able to
reach repose in the desired equilibrium of its own nature. If, by
chance, it happens otherwise, that comes necessarily from an
accident, as when sickness warps the taste or simple opinion
warps reasoning. For this reason we say that the sound and
free intellect, which insatiably, from an innate quest, longs to
attain the true by examining all, knows the true when it appre-
hends it in an amorous embrace, for we do not doubt the per-
fect truth of that which all sound minds are unable to reject.
Now all those who investigate judge of the uncertain by com-
paring it to a reliable presupposition by a system of proportion.
All inquiry, therefore, is comparative, using the means of pro-
portion so that as long as the objects of inquiry can be compared
to the presupposition by a close proportional reduction, the
judgment of apprehension is easy; but if we have need of many
intermediaries, then difficulty and trouble arise. This is well
known in mathematics, where the first propositions are easily
referred to the first principles which are very well known, but
i 8 The translation, based on the text of P. Rotta, Bari, 1913, is that of James
Bruce Ross, who, with Mary Martin McLaughlin, edits The Portable
Medieval Reader, New York (Copyright, 1949, by The Viking Press). The
passages, used by permission of The Viking Press, are pp. 667-75. I*1
order, they are from Book I, Chapters 1, 2, and 3, and Book III, Chapter
11.
360
ON LEARNED IGNORANCE 361
the later ones, since they need the intermediary of the first, pre-
sent much more difficulty. All inquiry, therefore, consists in
comparative proportion, easy or difficult, and that is why the
infinite, which as infinite escapes all proportion, is unknown.
Now proportion^ since in anything it expresses agreement to-
gether with difference, cannot be understood without number.
Number, consequently, includes all that is susceptible to propor-
tion. Number, therefore, does not create proportion in quantity
only, but in all those things which in any way, by substance or
accident, can agree or differ. Hence Pythagoras judged with
vigor that everything was constituted and understood through
the force of numbers. But the precision of combinations in
material things and the exact adaptation of the known to the
unknown so far surpass human reason that it seemed to Socrates
that he knew nothing except his ignorance,19 and the very wise
Solomon affirmed that all things are difficult and inexplicable
in language. And another man of divine spirit says that wisdom
is hidden, and also the seat of intelligence, from the eyes of the
living. If, therefore, it is true, as likewise the very profound
Aristotle affirms in his First Philosophy, that such a difficulty be-
falls us in the things most manifest in nature, like owls trying to
see the sun, since the divine in us is certainly not vain, we need
to know that we are ignorant. If we can attain this end com-
pletely, we shall attain "learned ignorance."20 For nothing
becomes a man, even the most zealous, more perfectly in learn-
ing that to be found very learned in ignorance itself, which is his
characteristic, and anyone will be the more learned the more he
knows his own ignorance. On this goal of learned ignorance I
have assumed the labor of writing a few words.
Book /, Chapter 2
Preliminary Explanation of What Follows
Before treating the greatest doctrine, that of ignorance, I con-
sider it necessary to take up the nature of "the quality of being
maximum" [maximitas]. Now I call "maximum" a thing than
which nothing can be greater. Plenitude, in truth, is appropriate
to one; that is why unity coincides with "the quality of being
maximum," and it is also entity. Now if such unity is absolute
universally, beyond all relation and all concreteness, it is clear,
19
Nihil scire, nisi quod ignoraret. . . .
20
Doctam ignorantiam assequemur.
362 NICHOLAS OF GUSA
since it is the absolute "quality of being maximum," that noth-
ing is opposed to it. And so the absolute maximum is one,
which is all, in which all is, because it is the maximum. And
since nothing is opposed to it, with it at the same time coincides
the minimum; wherefore it is thus in everything. And because it
is absolute, then it is actually all possible being, undergoing no
restrictions from things and imposing them on all.
This maximum, which by the indubitable faith of all nations
is accepted also as God, I shall, in my first book on human
reason, labor to seek, though incomprehensibly, led by that One
who, alone, lives in inaccessible light.
In the second place, as the absolute quality of being maxi-
mum is absolute entity, by which all things are what they are,
so universal unity of being comes from that which is called
absolute maximum, and therefore exists concretely as universe,
whose unity, indeed, is restricted in plurality without which it
cannot be. This maximum, indeed, although in its universal
unity it embraces everything, so that all which comes from the
absolute is in it and it is in all, does not, however, have sub-
sistence outside of plurality, in which it is, because it does not
exist without concreteness from which it cannot be freed. Con-
cerning this maximum, which appears as the universe, I shall
add some remarks in my second book.
In the third place, the maximum will show the necessity of a
third order of consideration. For, as the universe subsists con-
cretely only in plurality, we shall seek in the multiple things
themselves, the maximum one, in whom the universe subsists
most greatly and most perfectly both in its realization and in its
end. And since this universe unites itself with the absolute,
which is the universal goal, because it is the end which is most
perfect and beyond all our capacities, I shall add below on this
maximum, at the same time concrete and absolute, which we
call by the name forever blessed of Jesus, some words as Jesus
himself shall inspire. He who wishes to attain the meaning of
what I am going to say must raise the intelligence above the
force of the words themselves, rather than insist on the proper-
ties of words, which cannot be adapted properly to such great
intellectual mysteries. It is necessary to use in a transcendental
fashion the examples which my hand will trace, so that the
reader, leaving aside sensible things, should rise easily to simple
intellectuality. I have applied myself to seeking this way with
ordinary talents, as clearly as I could, avoiding any roughness
of style, to lay bare the root of learned ignorance, making it
manifest at once although not with the comprehensible preci-
sion of truth.
Book /, Chapter 3
That Precise Truth Is Incomprehensible
Because it is clear in itself that there is no proportion of the
infinite to the finite, from this it is most clear that where one
finds something which exceeds and something which is ex-
ceeded, one does not arrive at the simple maximum, since what
exceeds and what is exceeded are finite objects while the simple
maximum is necessarily infinite. No matter what has been
given, if it is not the simple maximum itself, it is clear that a
greater one can be given.
And because we find that equality permits degrees, so that a
certain thing is more equal to one than to another, according to
the points of agreement and difference, in genus, in species, of
place, of influence, and of time, with similar things, it is clear
that one cannot find two or more objects similar and equal to
such a point that objects more similar still can not exist in in-
finite number. Let the measures and the objects measured be
as equal as can be, there will always be differences. Therefore,
our finite intellect cannot, by means of similitude, understand
with precision the truth of things. For truth, existing in a certain
indivisible nature, is not either more or less, and all that is not
true itself is not able to measure it with precision; thus what is
not circle cannot measure the circle whose being consists in
something indivisible. Therefore the understanding, which is
not truth, never attains truth with such precision that it cannot
be attained more precisely by the infinite: for it is to truth as the
polygon is to the circle; the greater the number of angles in-
scribed in the polygon, the more it will be like the circle, but
nevertheless it is never made equal to the circle, even if one
multiplies the angles infinitely, unless it breaks down into iden-
tity with the circle. It is clear, therefore, that we know nothing
concerning the true except that we know it to be incomprehen-
sible precisely as it is; for truth, being absolute necessity, which
cannot be more or less than it is, presents itself to our under-
standing as possibility. Therefore, the quiddity of things, which
is the truth of beings, is unattainable in its purity; all philos-
ophers have sought it, none has found it, such as it is; and the
more we shall be profoundly learned in this ignorance, the
more we shall approach truth itself.
Book III, Chapter 11
The Mysteries of Faith
Our ancestors assert with one voice that faith is the beginning
of understanding. For in every discipline certain things are pre-
supposed as first principles, which are apprehended by faith
alone and from which springs the comprehension of the matters
treated. Every man who wishes to raise himself to knowledge
must necessarily believe in the things without which he cannot
raise himself. As Isaiah says, "Unless you believe, you will not
understand." Faith, therefore, comprises in herself all that is in-
telligible. Understanding is the explication of faith. Under-
standing is, therefore, directed by faith, and faith is developed
by understanding. Where there is no sound faith, there is no
true understanding. It is clear to what conclusion error in prin-
ciple and fragility in foundations lead. There is no faith more
perfect than the truth itself, which is Jesus.21 Who does not
understand that the most excellent gift of God is perfect faith?
The apostle John says that faith in the incarnation of the Word
of God leads us to truth, in order that we may become sons of
God; that is what he shows simply in his exordium, and then he
recounts numerous works of Christ consonant with this belief
that understanding is illuminated by faith. Therefore he comes
finally to this conclusion, saying: "These things were written so
that you might believe that Jesus is the Son of God."
Now that sweetest faith in Christ, firmly sustained in sim-
plicity, may by stages of ascent be extended and developed ac-
cording to the aforesaid doctrine, that of ignorance. For the
greatest and most profound mysteries of God, hidden from those
who go about in the world, however wise they may be, have been
revealed to the small and humble in the faith of Jesus, because
Jesus is the one in whom all the treasures of wisdom and science
are enclosed, and without whom no one can do anything. For
he is the Word and the Power by whom God created the very
ages, alone, the highest, having power over all things in heaven
and on earth. This One, since he is not knowable in this world,
where reason, opinion, and knowledge lead us by symbols
through the better known to the unknown, can be grasped only
there where proofs cease and faith begins, by which we are
ravished in simplicity so that beyond all reason and intelligence,
21
Ubi igitur non est sana fides, nullus est verus intellectus. . . . Nulla autem perfec-
tion fides quam ipsamet veritas, quae Iesus est. DocL ign., I l l , 11, Opera omnia,
I, 152 (Kallen).
in the third heaven of the most simple intellectuality, we may
contemplate him in his body incorporeally, because in spirit,
and in the world but not of the world, but celestially and incom-
prehensibly in order that it may be understood that he is in-
comprehensible by reason of his infinite excellence.
And this is that learned ignorance by which the most blessed
Paul himself, arising, saw that Christ whom he formerly only
had knowledge of; he did not know when he was raised higher
up to him. We are led, therefore, we faithful in Christ, in learned
ignorance to that mountain which is Christ, which the nature of
our animality prevents us from attaining, and when we try to
perceive it with the intellectual eye, we fall down in the fog,
knowing only that this fog hides us from the mountain, on which
only those may live who flourish in understanding.22 If we
approach this with a greater firmness in our faith, we are
snatched away from the eyes of those who wander in the world
of the senses, so that with internal hearing we perceive the
voices, the thunder, and the terrible signs of the majesty of God,
easily perceiving the Lord himself, whom all things obey,
advancing by stages in the imperishable traces of his steps, like
I do not know what divine creatures; and hearing the voice,
not of mortal creatures, but of God himself in the holy organs
and in the signs of his prophets and saints, we contemplate him
more clearly, as if through the cloud of reason. Then the be-
lievers, with more burning desire, rising continually, are carried
up to intellectuality in its simplicity, passing beyond all sen-
sible things, as if from sleep to waking, from hearing to sight,
where those things are seen which cannot be revealed, because
they are beyond all hearing and the teaching of the voice. For
if what is revealed there had to be expressed, then the inex-
pressible would be expressed and the inaudible would be heard,
just as the invisible is seen there. For Jesus, blessed throughout
the ages, end of all intellection, since he is truth; end of all
sensibility since he is life; end ultimately of all being, because he
is entity; perfection of every created being as God and man, is
incomprehensibly heard there as the limit of every word. For
from him proceeds, to him returns every word; all that is true in
the word comes from him. Every word has as its goal edification,
therefore him, who is wisdom itself. All that has been written
has been for our edification. The words are represented in the
22 Cf. Doct. ign., I, 24, 26, and Vansteenberghe, in Beitrdge, Vol. 14, pt. 2,
"Correspondance," no. 5, pp. 113-17. Cf. Dionysius, Mystical Theology, I,
iff.
Scriptures, the heavens are sustained by the Word of God.
Therefore, all created things are signs of the Word of God.
Every corporeal word is the sign of the spiritual Word. The
cause of every spiritual corruptible word is the incorruptible
Word, which is reason. Christ is the incarnate reason of all
reasons, because the Word was made flesh. Jesus therefore is the
end of everything.
Such are the verities which reveal themselves by degrees to
him who raises himself to Christ by faith. The divine efficacy of
this faith is inexplicable for, if it is great, it unites the believer to
Jesus, so that he is above all that is not in unity with Jesus
himself.
THE VISION OF GOD *
THE TEXT
Chapter XIX
How Jesus Is the Union of God and Man
I render unto thee thanks unspeakable, O God, light and life
of my soul. For I now perceive the faith which, by the teaching
of the apostles, the Catholic Church holdeth, to wit, how thou,
a loving God, dost beget of thyself a lovable God, and how
thou, the lovable God-begotten, art the absolute mediator. For
'tis through thee that all existeth which doth exist or can exist,
since thou, the loving or willing God, enfoldest them all in thee,
the lovable God. For all that thou, O God, wiliest or conceivest
is enfolded in thee, the lovable God. Nought can exist except
thou will it to be. Wherefore all things have their cause or reason
for being in thy lovable concept, and the sole cause of them all
is that it so pleaseth thee; nought pleaseth a lover, as a lover,
save the lovable. Thou, O lovable God, art the Son of God the
loving Father, since in thee is all the Father's delight. Thus all
creatable being is enfolded in thee, the lovable God.
Thou too, O loving God—since from thee cometh the lovable
God, as a son from a father—art the Father of all beings by
reason that thou art God, the loving Father of the lovable God
thy Son. For thy concept is a Son, in whom are all things, and
thy union and thy concept is act and operation arising there-
from—the act and operation wherein existeth the actuality and
unfolding of all things. As therefore of thee, the loving God,
there is begotten the lovable God, and this generation is a con-
cept, even so there proceedeth from thee, the loving God, and
from thy concept, the lovable God begotten of thee, thine act
and concept, to wit, the bond knitting together and the God
2 3 The translation is that of E. G. Salter, Nicholas ofCusa: The Vision of God,
1928, pp. 92-130, used by permission of J. M. Dent & Co., London (E. P.
Dutton & Co., New York).
367
368 NICHOLAS OF GtTSA
uniting thee and thy concept, even as the act of loving uniteth
in love the lover and the beloved. And this bond is called Spirit;
for spirit is like motion, proceeding from that which moveth and
that which is moved. Thus motion is the unfolding of the con-
cept of him that moveth. Wherefore in thee, God the Holy
Spirit, all things are unfolded, even as they are conceived in
thee, God the Son.24
I perceive, then—thou, God, enlightening me—how all
things of God the Father are in thee, God the Son, as in his
reason, concept, cause, or exemplar, and how the Son mediateth
all things because he is the reason. For 'tis by means of reason
and wisdom that thou, God the Father, workest all things, and
the spirit or motion giveth effect unto the concept of reason, as
we learn from the craftsman who, by the motive power in his
hands, giveth effect unto the coffer which he hath in his mind.
Thus, my God, I perceive how thy Son mediateth the union of
all things, that all may find rest in thee by the mediation of thy
Son. And I see that blessed Jesus, Son of Man, is most closely
united unto thy Son, and that the son of man could not be
united unto thee, God the Father, save by mediation of thy Son,
the absolute mediator.
Who would not be ravished to the highest in the attentive
consideration of these things? Thou, my God, disclosest unto
me, a poor wretch, this so great secret that I may perceive that
man cannot apprehend thee, the Father, save in thy Son, who
may be apprehended and who is the mediator, and that to
apprehend thee is to be united unto thee. Man, then, can be
united unto thee through thy Son, who is the means of union;
and human nature most closely knit unto thee, in whatsoever
man it be, cannot be more united unto the intermediary than
it is, for without an intermediary it cannot be united unto thee.
Thus it is united in the closest degree unto the intermediary, yet
it doth not become the intermediary: wherefore, albeit it can-
not become the intermediary (since it cannot be united unto
thee without an intermediary), 'tis yet so joined unto the abso-
lute intermediary that nought can mediate between it and thy
Son, the absolute mediator. For if aught could mediate between
human nature and the absolute mediator, human nature
would not then be united unto thee in the closest degree.
O good Jesu, I perceive that in thee human nature is linked
most closely unto God the Father, by that most exalted union
24
Cf. Doct. ign., II, 3, and the works of M. de Gandillac, Koch, etc., already
cited on complicatio and explication "enfolding" and "unfolding."
THE VISION OF GOD 369
through which it is linked unto God the Son, the absolute medi-
ator. Since thou art Son of Man, human sonship is in the highest
degree united in thee, Jesu, unto the divine Sonship, so that
thou art rightly called Son of God and Son of Man, for in thee
nought mediateth between those twain. In that absolute Son-
ship, which is the Son of God, is enfolded all sonship, and there-
unto thy human sonship, Jesu, is supremely united. Accordingly,
thy human sonship subsisteth in the divine, not only as en-
folded therein* but as that which is attracted in that which
attracteth, and that which is united in that which uniteth, and
that which is substantiated in that which giveth substance.
Thus in thee, Jesu, there can be no possible separation between
Son of Man and Son of God. Possibility of separation ariseth
from the fact that a union is not of the closest, but, where a
union is of the closest possible, there no intermediary can exist.
Separation, then, can have no place where nought can mediate
between the things united. But where that which is united sub-
sisteth not in that which uniteth, the union is not the closest
possible; for 'tis a closer union where the united subsisteth in the
uniter than where it subsisteth separately, separation being a
withdrawal from perfect union.
Thus in thee, my Jesu, I see how the human sonship whereby
thou art Son of Man subsisteth in the divine Sonship whereby
thou art Son of God, as in the most perfect union that which is
united subsisteth in that which uniteth. Glory be to thee, O God,
throughout all ages!
Chapter XX
How Jesus Is Understood to Be the Union of the Divine Mature
and the Human Nature
Thou showest me, O Light unfailing, that the perfect union
whereby human nature is united through my Jesus with thy
divine nature is not in any wise like unto infinite union. The
union whereby thou, God the Father, art united unto God thy
Son is God the Holy Spirit, and thus 'tis an infinite union, seeing
that it attaineth unto absolute and essential identity. 'Tis not so
when human nature is united unto the divine, for human
nature cannot pass over into essential union with the divine,
even as the finite cannot be infinitely united unto the infinite,
because it would pass into identity with the infinite, and thus
would cease to be finite when the infinite were verified in it.
Wherefore this union, whereby human nature is united unto the
24—L.M.M.
divine nature, is nought else than the attraction in the highest
degree of the human nature unto the divine, in such wise that
human nature, as such, could not be attracted to greater
heights. This union, then, of human nature, as such, with the
divine is the greatest, in the sense of being the greatest possible,
but it is not purely and simply the greatest, and infinite, as is the
divine union.
Thus through the bounty of thy grace I see in thee, Jesu, Son
of Man, the Son of God, and in the Son of God, the Father.
Now, in thee, the Son of Man, I see the Son of God, because
thou art both of these alike, and in thy finite nature which is
attracted I perceive the infinite nature which attracteth; in the
absolute Son I behold the absolute Father, for the Son cannot be
seen as Son unless the Father be seen. I behold in thee, Jesu, the
divine Sonship which is the truth of all sonship, and equally
with it the highest human sonship, which is the most approxi-
mate image of the absolute Sonship. Just as the image, between
which and the exemplar no more perfect image can be inter-
posed, hath an existence nearest in truth to the object whereof
it is the image, even so I perceive thy human nature subsisting
in the divine nature.
Accordingly, I see in thy human nature all that I see in the
divine, but I see that in thy human nature those attributes exist
in human guise which in the divine nature are divine truth
itself. That which I see to exist in human guise in thee, Jesu, is a
likeness unto the divine nature, but the likeness is united unto
the exemplar without a medium, in such wise that no greater
likeness can exist or be imagined. In thy human or rational
nature I see the rational human spirit most closely united unto
the divine Spirit, which is absolute reason, and so the human
intelligence and all things in thine intelligence, Jesu, united
unto the divine intelligence. For thou, Jesu, as God, dost under-
stand all, and to understand in this sense is to be all. As Man,
thou understandest all, and to understand in this sense is to be a
likeness of all. For man only comprehendeth things by a like-
ness; a stone existeth not in human understanding as in its prop-
er cause or nature, but as in its specific idea and likeness. Thus
in thee, Jesu, human intelligence is united unto the divine in-
telligence itself, even as a most perfect image unto the truth of
its pattern. If I consider the ideal form of the coffer in the crafts-
man's mind and the species of coffer made by that master most
perfectly carrying out his idea, I learn how the ideal form is the
truth of the species, and that only in this one master is it united
unto it as truth is unto the image. So in thee, Jesu, Master of
masters, I see that the absolute idea of all things, and with it
what resembles it in species, is united in the highest degree.
I see thee, good Jesu, within the wall of paradise, since thine
intelligence is alike truth and image, and thou art alike God and
creature, alike infinite and finite. And 'tis not possible that thou
shouldst be seen this side of the wall, for thou art the bond be-
tween the divine nature that createth and the human nature
that is created.
Howbeit, between thy human intellect and that of any other
man soever I perceive a difference: for no one man knoweth all
things that may be known by man, since no man's intellect is so
joined unto the exemplar of all things, as the image unto the
truth, but that it could not be more nearly joined, and more
actually set therein, and so it doth not understand so much but
that it could understand yet more, had it access unto the exem-
plar of things whence every thing actually existent deriveth its
actuality. But thine intellect actually understandeth all that
may be apprehended of men, because in thee human nature is
in full perfection, and most entirely joined unto its exemplar.
By means of this union, thy human intelligence exceedeth all
created intelligence in perfection of understanding. Wherefore,
all rational spirits are far beneath thee, and thou, Jesu, art the
Master and Light of them all, and thou art perfection, and the
fullness of all things, and by thee they attain unto absolute truth,
as by their mediator. For thou art alike the way unto truth, and
the truth itself; thou art alike the way unto the life of the intel-
lect and that life itself; thou art alike the fragrance of the food
of joy and the taste that maketh joyful. Be thou, then, more
sweet Jesu, blessed forever!
Chapter XXI
That Bliss Is Not Possible Without Jesus
O Jesu, thou end of the universe, in whom resteth, as in the
final degree of perfection, every creature, thou art utterly un-
known to the wise of this world. For of thee we affirm many
antitheses that are yet most true, since thou art alike Creator
and creature, alike he that attracteth and he that is attracted,
alike finite and infinite. They pronounce it folly to believe this
possible, and because of it they flee from thy name, and do not
receive thy light whereby thou hast illumined us. But, esteeming
themselves wise, they remain forever foolish, and ignorant, and
blind. Yet if they would believe that thou art Christ, God and
Man, and would receive and handle the words of the gospel as
being those of so great a Master, then at last they would see
most clearly that, in comparison with that light there hidden in
the simplicity of thy words, all things else are nought but
thickest shadows, and ignorance. Thus 'tis only humble be-
lievers who attain unto this most gracious and life-giving revela-
tion. There is hidden in thy most holy gospel, which is heavenly
food, as there was in the manna, sweetness to satisfy all desire,
which can only be tasted by him that believeth and eateth. If
any believeth and receiveth it, he shall prove and find the
truth, because thou didst come down from heaven and thou
alone art the Master of truth.
O good Jesu, thou art the Tree of Life, in the paradise of de-
lights, and none may feed upon that desirable life save from thy
fruit. Thou art, O Jesu, the food forbidden to all sons of Adam
who, expelled from paradise, seek their sustenance from the
earth whereon they toil. Wherefore it behoveth every man to put
off the old man of presumption and to put on the new man of
humility, which is after thy pattern, if he hope to taste the food
of life within the paradise of delights. The nature of the new and
of the old Adam is one, but in the old Adam it is animal; in
thee, the new Adam, it is spiritual, for in thee, Jesu, it is united
unto God, who is Spirit. Wherefore, every man must needs be
united in one spirit unto thee, Jesu, even as he is by the human
nature that is common to himself and to thee, to the end that
thus in his own nature, which thou, Jesu, dost share, he may be
able to draw near unto God the Father, who is in paradise. Now
to behold God the Father, and thee, Jesu, his Son, is to be in
paradise, and is glory everlasting. For he that stayeth outside
paradise cannot have such a vision, since neither God the
Father nor thou, Jesu, are to be found outside paradise.
Every man, then, hath attained bliss who is united unto thee,
Jesu, as a limb unto the head. None can come unto the Father
unless he be drawn by the Father. The Father drew thy human-
ity, Jesu, by his Son, and by thee, Jesu, the Father draweth all
men. Just as thy humanity, Jesu, is united unto the Son of God
the Father, as unto the means whereby the Father drew it, even
so the humanity of every man soever is united unto thee, Jesu,
as unto the one and only means whereby the Father draweth all
men. Therefore without thee, Jesu, 'tis impossible for any man
to attain bliss. Thou art, Jesu, the revelation of the Father. For
the Father is invisible to all, and visible only to thee, his Son,
and, after thee, to him who through thee and thy revelation
shall be found worthy to behold Him. Thou art, therefore,
he that uniteth each of the blessed, and each of the blessed
subsisteth in thee, as that which is united in that which
uniteth.
None of the wise men of this world can attain true bliss while
he knoweth thee not. None of the blessed can see the Father in
paradise save with thee, Jesu. Antitheses are made true in the
blessed, even as in thee, Jesu, since he is united unto thee in a
rational, natural, and single spirit. For every blissful spirit sub-
sisteth in thine, as that which is quickened in the life-giver.
Every blissful spirit beholdeth the invisible God and is united in
thee, Jesu, unto God the unapproachable and immortal. And
thus in thee the finite is united unto the infinite, and unto that
which is beyond union, and the incomprehensible is possessed
in an eternal fruition which is bliss most joyous and inexhaust-
ible. Be merciful unto me, Jesu, be merciful, and grant me to
behold thee unveiled, and my soul is healed!
Chapter XXII
How Jesus Seeth and How He Hath Worked
The mind's eye cannot be sated in beholding thee, Jesu, because
thou art the fulfillment of all beauty the mind can picture, and
in this icon I conjecture thy right marvelous and astounding
sight, Jesu blessed above all. For thou, Jesu, whilst thou didst
walk this world of sense, didst use eyes of flesh like unto ours.
With them thou didst see, even as we men do, one object and
another, for there was in thine eyes a certain spirit which in-
formed the organ, like the sensitive mind in an animal's body.
In that spirit there was a noble power of discernment whereby
thou, Lord, didst see and distinguish between one object of one
color and another of another. And, yet more, from the aspect of
the face and eyes of the men whom thou sawest thou didst judge
truly of the passions of the soul—anger, joy, sorrow. And more
subtly still thou didst comprehend from few tokens what was
hidden in a man's mind (for nothing is conceived in the mind
that is not in some way shown in the face, which is the heart's
herald, and especially in the eyes). By all these tokens thou didst
much more truly reach the inmost places of the soul than any
created spirit can. From any one sign, albeit of the slightest,
thou didst perceive the man's whole thought, even as under-
standing men grasp from a few words an idea that requireth a
whole long discourse to set it forth, and even as the learned,
from running their eye hastily over a book, can narrate the
writer's whole intent as though they had read it through.
Thou, Jesu, didst excel in this manner of vision all the perfec-
tion, swiftness, and keenness of all men past, present, and to
come, and yet this sight was human because it was not perfected
without the eye of flesh. Howbeit, it was stupendous and mar-
velous. For if there be men who, after prolonged and subtle ex-
amining, can read the mind of a writer, under characters and
signs newly devised at the time, and unseen before, thou, Jesu,
didst perceive all things under every sign and figure.
If, as we read, there was once a man who, by certain tokens
in the eye, knew the thoughts of an interrogator, even the verses
that he might be repeating to himself, thou, Jesu, hadst more
skill than all in grasping all the mind's thought from each glance
of the eye. I myself have seen a deaf woman who read every-
thing from the movement of her daughter's lips, and under-
stood it as if she had heard it. If such a thing is possible by long
practice among deaf and dumb persons, and Religious who
converse by signs, thou, Jesu, who, as a Master of masters,
actually knewest all that is to be known, didst more perfectly
form a true judgment of the heart and its thoughts from the
slightest glances and signs invisible to us.
But unto this thy human sight, most perfect albeit finite and
limited unto an organ, there was united an absolute and infinite
sight—the sight whereby thou, as God, didst see alike all things
and each, absent as well as present, past as well as future. Thus,
Jesu, with thy human eye thou sawest such accidentals as are
visible, but with thy divine, absolute sight the substance of
things. None save thee, Jesu, ever in the flesh beheld the sub-
stance or essence of things. Thou alone sawest most truly the
soul and spirit and whatsoever there was in man. For as in man
the faculty of understanding is linked with the animal faculty of
sight, so that a man not only seeth like an animal but also, as a
man, discerneth and judgeth, so in thee, Jesu, the absolute
sight was united unto the human faculty of understanding,
which, in the animal sight, is discernment. In man, the faculty
of animal sight subsisteth, not in itself, but in the reasoning soul,
as in the form of the whole: in thee, Jesu, the intellectual faculty
of sight subsisteth, not in itself, but in the faculty of absolute
sight. O most sweet Jesu, how marvelous is thy sight!
Sometimes it befalleth us to fix our gaze on a passer-by with-
out giving heed to recognize who he was; so we cannot tell the
name of that passer-by to any that asketh it, albeit it is a man
we know, and we are aware that someone hath passed by. We
have seen him as an animal might, not like a man, because we
have not applied our faculty of discernment. Whence we learn
that the natures of our faculties, though they be bound up in one
human form, do yet abide distinct, and have distinct workings.
Even so in thee, the one Jesus, I perceive that the human in-
tellectual nature was united after somewhat the same fashion
unto the divine nature, and that in like manner thou didst many
works as Man, and, as God, many marvelous works beyond
what man could do. I see, most loving Jesu, that the intellectual
nature is absolute in regard to that of the senses, and not, as is
the sensible nature, finite and tied to an organ, as the seeing
faculty of the senses is tied to the eye; but the divine faculty is
immeasurably more absolute, beyond the intellectual. For the
human intellect, if it is to find expression in action, requireth
images, and images cannot be had without the senses, and senses
subsist not without a body; and by reason of this the faculty of
human intelligence is limited, and slight, requiring the things
aforesaid. Now the divine intelligence is necessity itself, in-
dependent, requiring nought—nay, rather do all things require
it, since without it they cannot exist.
I consider more attentively how the discursive faculty which,
in the process of reasoning, runneth hither and thither, and
seeketh, is another thing from the faculty which judgeth and
understandeth.25 We see a dog run hither and thither, and seek
his master, and recognize him and hear his call. This running
about is natural to an animal, and in the dog is found in a
degree of specific perfection. There are other animals that are
even keener in this pursuit, according to their more perfect
species, and in man this pursuit most nearly approacheth the
intellectual faculty, so that it is the summit of perfection in the
senses, embracing many, nay, innumerable degrees of perfec-
tion, on a lower level than the intellectual, as the different spe-
cies of animals reveal unto us. For there is no species which
shareth not the degree of perfection proper unto itself. Each of
the degrees hath a wide space within whose limits we see individ-
uals of the species partaking of the species in divers ways. In
like manner the intellectual nature hath, on a lower level than
25 Doct. ign., I, 2-4.

the divine, innumerable degrees. Whence, just as in the intel-
lectual nature all degrees of perfection of the senses are implied,
so in the divine are implied all degrees of perfection, alike of the
intellect and of the senses, and all others. Thus in thee, my Jesu,
I behold all perfection.
Since thou art all-perfect Man, I see in thee an intellect
united unto a rational or discursive faculty, which is the supreme
faculty of the senses. And thus I see that thine intellect was set in
thy reason as in its own place, like unto a candle placed in a
room, which illumineth the room, and all the walls, and the
whole building, howbeit by more or less according to the degree
of its distance from them. Finally, I see that in thee the divine
Word is united unto a sovran intellect, and that the place where
the Word is received is that intellect itself, just as in ourselves
we prove that the intellect is the place where the word of a mas-
ter is received, as if the sun's light should be joined unto the
candle afore chosen. For the Word of God illumineth the in-
tellect as the sun's light illumineth this world. Wherefore in thee,
my Jesu, I perceive the life of the senses illumined by the light
of the intellect; the life of the intellect as a light that illumineth
and that is illumined; and the divine life, which illumineth
alone. For I see in thine intellectual light the very Fount of light,
to wit, the Word of God which is truth, illumining every intel-
lect. Thou only, then, art the highest of all creatures, since thou
art thus at once creature and blessed Creator,
Chapter XXIII
How that When Jesus Died His Union with Life Persisted
O Jesu, the mind's most delectable food, when I look upon
thee within the wall of paradise, how marvelous dost thou
appear unto me! For thou art the Word of God humanified, and
thou art man deified. Yet art not thou as it were compounded
of God and man? Between component parts some proportion is
necessary, without which there can be no composition, but
there is no proportion between the finite and infinite. Nor art
thou the coincidence of the creature and Creator, in the sense
in which coincidence maketh one thing to be another. For
human nature is not divine, nor divine nature human. The
divine nature is not mutable, nor can it be changed into another
nature, since it is eternity itself. Nor can any nature by reason of
its union with the divine pass over into another nature: as is
illustrated in the case of the image, when united unto its
truth. For an image cannot be said to become other when thus
united, but rather to withdraw itself from otherness, because
it is united unto its own truth, which is unchangeableness
itself.
Neither, most sweet Jesu, canst thou be said to be of an inter-
mediate nature, between divine and human, for between these
twain it is not possible for any intermediate nature to be set,
partaking of both. For the divine nature may not be shared,
since it is entirely and absolutely onefold, nor in that wise
wouldst thou, blessed Jesu, be either God or man. But I see thee,
Lord Jesu, to be One Person beyond all understanding, because
thou art One Christ, in the same manner that I see thy human
soul to be one, albeit therein, as in any human soul, I see there
was a nature of the senses liable to corruption, subsisting in an
intellectual and incorruptible nature.
That soul was not composite of corruptible and incorruptible,
nor is the nature of the senses one with that of the intellect; but
I perceive the intellectual soul to be united through the sentient
faculty with the body, which it quickeneth. If a man's intellec-
tual soul should stay from quickening the body without being
separated from the body, that man would be dead, because life
would cease; and yet his body would not be separated from
life since the intellect is his life. 'Tis as when a man who had
attentively sought by means of his sight to discern someone
approaching becometh rapt in other thoughts and so with-
draweth his attention from that pursuit, though his eyes are
none the less directed toward it—that man's eye is not then
separated from his mind, although it existeth in separation from
the mind's discerning attention. But if that state of being rapt
should not only cease quickening his discernment but should
also cease quickening his senses, his eye would be dead because
it would not be quickened. Howbeit, for all that, it would not
be separated from the intellectual form, which is the form that
giveth being, just as a withered hand remaineth united unto the
form which maketh the whole body one.
There are men, so Saint Austin saith, who have skill to with-
draw the life-giving spirit from their body, and appear dead and
without feeling. In such a case, the intellectual nature would
remain united unto the body, because that body would not
exist under another form than afore; nay more, it would not
only have the same form and remain the same body, while the
quickening power would not cease to exist, but it would remain
in union with the intellectual nature, albeit that did not actually
extend itself unto the body. I perceive a man in such a case as
one truly dead because he lacketh the quickening life (death
being the lack of that which quickeneth), and yet he would not
be a dead body separated from its life, which is its soul.
'Tis thus, Jesu most merciful, that I look upon the absolute
life, which is God, inseparably united unto thy human intellect
and thereby unto thy body. For that union is such that none can
be closer. Every union that can be disparted is far inferior to
that than which none can be closer. Wherefore it never was true,
nor can it ever be, that thy divine nature was separated from
thy human nature, nor yet from thy mind, nor thy body, the
parts without which human nature cannot exist. Although it be
most true that thy soul did cease from quickening thy body and
that thou didst truly undergo death, yet wast thou never sepa-
rated from true life. If that priest of whom Austin telleth had
some kind of power of withdrawing from the body that which
quickeneth, and attracting it into the soul—as if a candle illu-
mining a room were a living thing, and should attract to the
center of its light the beams whereby it illumined the room,
without being separated from the room, and this attraction were
nought else than ceasing to shed forth those beams—what mar-
vel, then, if thou, Jesu, hadst the power (since thou art the most
free of living lights), of assuming and of laying down thy quick-
ening soul? When thou willedst to lay it down thou didst suffer
death, and when thou willedst to resume it thou didst rise again
in thine own might.
Now the intellectual nature, when it quickeneth or animateth
the body, is called the human soul. And the soul is said to be
removed when the human intellect ceaseth to quicken it. For
when the intellect ceaseth from its function of quickening, and,
with regard to that, separateth itself from the body, it is not
therefore separated purely and simply.
These thoughts thou inspirest, Jesu, that thou mayest show
thyself unto me, most unworthy, in so far as I can receive it, and
that I may contemplate how in thee mortal human nature put
on immortality, so that all men sharing that same human
nature may in thee attain to resurrection and divine life. What
can be sweeter, what more delightsome, than to know that in
thee, Jesu, we find all things that be in our nature—in thee,
who alone canst do all things, and givest most liberally and
upbraidest not? O ineffable loving-kindness and mercy! Thou,
God, who art goodness' self, couldest not satisfy thine infinite
clemency and bounty unless thou gavest us thyself! Nor could
this be done more beseemingly, more possibly, for us recipients
than in thy taking on thee our nature, because we could not
approach unto thine. Thus thou earnest unto us, and art called
Jesus, our Saviour ever blessed.26
Chapter XXIV
How Jesus Is the Word of Life
Of thine own best and greatest gift, my Jesus, I contemplate
thee preaching words of life, and plentifully sowing the seed
divine in the hearts of them that hear thee. I see those depart
from thee who have not perceived the things that are of the
Spirit. But I see the disciples remaining, who have already
begun to taste the sweetness of the doctrine that quickeneth the
soul. On behalf of all these, that prince and leader of all the
apostles, Peter, confessed how thou, Jesu, hadst the words of
life, and marveled that seekers after life should depart from
thee. Paul in ecstasy heard from thee, Jesu, the words of life, and
thereafter neither persecution nor sword nor bodily hunger
could separate him from thee. None could depart from thee
who had tasted the words of life. Who can separate a bear from
honey after he hath once tasted the sweetness thereof? How
great is the sweetness of truth which maketh life delightsome to
the full! It surpasseth all bodily sweetness, for 'tis absolute
sweetness, whence floweth all that is desired by every taste!
What is stronger than love, whence all that is lovable hath that
for which it is loved? If the bond of love in limitation be some-
times so strong that the fear of death cannot sever it, how strong
is the bond when that love is tasted whence all love springeth?
I wonder not that their cruel torments were accounted as
nought by other of thy soldiers, Jesu, to whom thou hadst
afforded a foretaste of thyself, the Life. O Jesu my Love, thou
hast sowed the seed of life in the field of the faithful, and hast
watered it by the witness of thy blood, and hast shown by bodily
death that truth is the life of the rational spirit; the seed grew in
good soil and bore fruit.
Thou showest me, Lord, how my soul is the breath of life
in regard to my body, whereinto it breatheth and infuseth life,
but 'tis not life in regard to thee, O God, but as it were a poten-
tiality of life. Now, thou canst not but grant our petitions if they
26 ibid., Ill, 4-8, 11.
be made in most expectant faith. And so thou dost inspire me
with the thought that there is a soul in the child which hath
vegetative power in actual exercise, since the child groweth; he
hath also a percipient power in actual exercise, since the child
feeleth; he hath moreover an imaginative power, but not as yet
in actual exercise; and a reasoning power, the exercise whereof
is as yet still more remote; he hath, too, an intellectual power,
but that is even more delayed in developing. Thus we find that
one and the same soul hath the lower powers in actual exercise
first, and afterward the higher, as if man were animal before hf
is spiritual.
In the same way, we find that a certain mineral power,
which can also be called spirit, existeth in the bowels of the
earth, and hath the power to become a mineral of stone, or hath
the power to become salt, or, again, the power to become a
metal, and that there are divers such spirits in that stones, salts,
and metals are diverse. Howbeit, there is but one spirit of the
mineral of gold, which, being ever more and more refined
through the influence of the sun or sky, is at last fashioned into
gold of such a nature that it may not be corrupted by any ele-
ment. And 'tis in it most chiefly that the heavenly incorruptible
light shineth forth, for it much resembleth the sun's corporeal
light. We find the same of the vegetative spirit and of the per-
cipient spirit. The percipient spirit, in man, conformeth itself
closely unto the motive and influential power of the heavens,
under which influence it receiveth one increase after another,
until it is set in perfect act. But as 'tis drawn out from the power
of the body, its perfection ceaseth with the failing of the bodily
perfection whereon it dependeth.
There is, finally, an intellectual spirit which, in the act of its
perfection, is independent of the body, but is united thereunto
by means of the percipient power; this spirit, being independent
of the body, is not subject unto the influence of the heavenly
bodies; 'tis independent of the percipient spirit, and thus of the
motive power of the heavens. But, just as the motive forces of the
heavenly bodies are subject unto the First Mover, so too is this
moving force, which is the. intellect. Howbeit, since 'tis united
unto the body by means of the percipient power, it cometh not
to perfection without the senses, since all that reacheth it from
the world of sense doth so by the medium of the senses. Whence
nought of this kind can exist in the intellect that hath not first
existed in the senses, but the more the senses are pure and per-
fect, the imagination clear, and discursive reason in good state,
the more the intellect in its intellectual operations is unham-
pered, and clear-sighted.
But the intellect feedeth on the Word of life, under whose in-
fluence it is stablished, like the motive forces of the orbs; how-
beit in other fashion, as even the spirits which are subject unto
the influences of the heavens come to perfection in divers ways.
And the intellect is not perfected, save, incidentally, by the per-
cipient spirit, just as an image maketh not perfect, albeit it
stirreth up an inquiry after the truth of the exemplar. The image
of the Crucified, for example, doth not inspire devotion, but
kindleth the memory that devotion may be inspired. Since the
intellectual spirit is not constrained by the influence of the
heavens, but is absolutely free, it cometh not to perfection unless
it submit itself through faith unto the Word of God, like a free
disciple, under no control, who is not perfected unless by faith
he submit himself unto the word of a master: he needs must have
confidence in the master and listen unto him. The intellect is
perfected by the Word of God, and groweth, and becometh con-
tinually more receptive and apt, and liker unto the Word.
This perfection, which thus cometh from the Word whence it
had being, is not a corruptible perfection, but Godlike. Like the
perfection of gold, 'tis not corruptible, but of heavenly form.
But it behoveth every intellect to submit itself by faith unto the
Word of God, and to hear with closest attention that inward
teaching of the supreme Master, and, by hearing what the Lord
saith in it, it shall be made perfect. 'Twas for this that thou,
Jesu, one and only Master, didst preach the necessity of faith
for all approaching the fount of life, and didst show that the
inflowing of divine power was according unto the measure of
faith.
Two things only hast thou taught, O Saviour Christ—faith
and love.27 By faith the intellect hath access unto the Word; by
love 'tis united thereunto; the nearer it approacheth, the more
it waxeth in power; the more it loveth, the more it stablisheth
itself in its light. And the Word of God is within it; it needeth
not to seek outside itself, since it will find him within, and shall
have access unto him by faith. And by prayer it shall obtain a
nearer approach unto him, for the Word will increase faith by
communication of his light.
I render thee thanks, Jesu, that by thy light I have come thus
far. In thy light I see the light of my life. I see how thou, the
27
Ibid., Ill, 9, 11; also the sermons from Gusa in this anthology.
Word, infusest life into all believers, and makest perfect all that
love thee. What teaching, good Jesu, was ever briefer and more
effectual than thine? Thou persuadest us but to believe; thou
biddest us but to love. What is easier than to believe in God?
What is sweeter than to love him? How pleasant is thy yoke,
how light is thy burden, thou one and only Teacher LTo them
that obey this teaching thou dost promise all their desires, for
thou requirest nought difficult to a believer, and nought that a
lover can refuse. Such are the promises that thou makest unto
thy disciples, and they are entirely true, for thou art the Truth,
who canst promise nought but truth. Nay more, 'tis nought
other than thyself that thou dost promise, who art the perfec-
tion of all that may be made perfect. To thee be praise, to thee
be glory, to thee the rendering of thanks through endless ages!
Amen.
Chapter XXV
How Jesus Is the Consummation
What is it, Lord, that thou conveyest to the spirit of the man
whom thou makest perfect? Is it not thy good Spirit, who in his
Being is consummately the power of all powers and the perfec-
tion of the perfect, since it is he that worketh all things? 'Tis as
when the sun's strength, descending on the spirit of growing
things, moveth it toward perfection, so that by the right pleasant
and natural mellowing of the heavenly heat it may become good
fruit on a good tree: even so thy Spirit, O God, cometh upon
the intellectual spirit of a good man, and, by the heat of divine
love, melloweth its latent power toward perfection, that it may
become fruit most acceptable unto Him.
Lord, we find that thy one Spirit, infinite in power, is re-
ceived in manifold ways, for it is received in one way by one,
in whom it produceth the spirit of prophecy, and in another way
by another, in whom it produceth skill in interpretation, and by
yet another, to whom it teacheth knowledge, and so in divers
ways in others. For His gifts are diverse, and they are perfections
of the intellectual spirit, even as that same heat of the sun
bringeth to perfection divers fruits on divers trees.
I perceive, Lord, that thy Spirit cannot be lacking unto any
spirit, because it is the Spirit of spirits, and motion of motions,
and it filleth the whole world: but it directeth all such things as
have not an intellectual spirit by means of intellectual nature
which moveth the heavens and, by their motion, all things that
exist thereunder. But the disposition and distribution of intellec-
tual nature he reserved for himself alone. For he hath espoused
unto himself this nature, wherein he chose to rest as in an house
of abiding and in the heaven of truth: since 'tis intellectual
nature alone that can grasp truth of itself.
Thou, Lord, who makest all things for thine own sake, hast
created this whole world for the sake of intellectual nature.
Even so a painter mixeth divers colors that at length he may be
able to paint himself, so that he may possess his own likeness,
wherein his art may rest and take pleasure, and so that, his
single self being not to be multiplied, he may at least be multi-
plied in the one way possible, to wit, in a likeness most resem-
bling himself. But the Spirit maketh many figures, because the
likeness of his infinite power can only be perfectly set forth in
many, and they are all intellectual spirits, serviceable to every
spirit. For, were they not innumerable, thou, infinite God,
couldst not be known in the best fashion. For every intellectual
spirit perceiveth in thee, my God, somewhat which must be re-
vealed unto others in order that they may attain unto thee, their
God, in the best possible fashion. Wherefore these spirits, full of
love, reveal one unto another their secrets, and thereby the
knowledge of the Beloved is increased, and yearning toward him
is aflame, and sweetness of joy.
Yet, O Lord God, thou couldst not have brought thy work to
perfect consummation without thy Son, Jesus, whom thou hast
anointed above his fellows, who is the Christ. In his intellect the
perfection of creatable nature is at rest, for he is the final and
entirely perfect Image of God who cannot be multiplied, and
there can be but one such supreme Image. Howbeit, all other
intellectual spirits are, through the medium of that Spirit, like-
nesses, and the more perfect the more they resemble it. And all
rest in that Spirit as in the final perfection of the Image of God,
of whose Image they have attained the likeness, and some de-
gree of perfection.
Wherefore of thy giving, O my God, I possess this whole
visible world and all the Scripture, and all ministering spirits to
aid me to advance in knowledge of thee. Yea, all things stir me
up to turn unto thee: all Scriptures strive only to set thee forth,
and all intellectual spirits exercise themselves only in seeking
thee and in revealing as much of thee as they have found. Thou
hast above all given me Jesus as Master, as the Way, the Truth,
and the Life, so that absolutely nothing may be lacking unto
me. Thou dost strengthen me by thy Holy Spirit; through him
NICHOLAS OF CUSA
thou dost inspire the choice of life, holy yearnings. Thou dost
draw me, by a foretaste of the sweetness of the life in glory, to
love thee, O infinite Good! Thou dost ravish me above myself
that I may foresee the glorious place whereunto thou callest me.
For thou showest me many dainties, most delectable, that allure
me by their excellent savor: thou grantest me to behold the
treasury of riches, of life, of joy, of beauty. Thou uncoverest the
fountain whence floweth all that is desirable alike in nature and
in art. Thou keepest nought secret. Thou hidest not the channel
of love, of peace, and of rest. All things dost thou set before me,
a miserable creature whom thou didst create from nothing.
Why, then, do I delay, why do I not run, in the sweet smell of
the unguents of my Christ? Why do I not enter into the joy of
my Lord? What restraineth me? If ignorance of thee, Lord,
hath held me back, and the empty delight of the world of sense,
they shall restrain me no longer. For I desire, Lord (since thou
grantest me so to desire) to leave the things of this world, be-
cause the world desireth to leave me. I hasten toward the goal.
I have all but finished my course, I will be beforehand with it
in taking farewell, I who pant for my crown. Draw me, Lord*
for none can come unto thee save he be drawn by thee; grant
that, thus drawn, I may be set free from this world and may be
united unto thee, the absolute God, in an eternity of glorious
life,
AMEN.
A S E R M O N ON T H E E U C H A R I S T **
THE TEXT
Since Christ is life-giving life, and since our life cannot be

preserved without food, he who is the giver of life is also its pre-
server. Wherefore he is the Bread of Life. And because he is the
Bread or food of life, this Bread cannot be attained except by
faith;29 for that which gives life is Spirit. The Spirit, moreover,
cannot be known, whence it comes or whither it goes, as the
doctrine of Christ teaches. It cannot be attained, therefore, by
knowledge. But since we must come to the Spirit of life, if we
strive to gain life; and since we cannot achieve this by knowl-
edge, it is fitting that this should be accomplished by that virtue
which is above knowledge, namely, faith. This faith, moreover,
which deserves to attain spiritual life should be triumphant and
militant, and obedient to Christ. It should hold captive the in-
tellect, that thus it may be victorious and virtuous.
Virtue, however, is not perfected except in adversity. There-
fore, this faith, in order to be perfected in virtue and become
strong, must endure difficulties, and the more numerous they
are, the greater should be its virtue. But if it is necessary that
faith be of such great virtue that it reaches, in the spirit, the
eternal life of the spirit, it must be most virtuous, and hence
most victorious. Therefore, the obstacles which ought to be
28 T h e following sermons, b o t h t r a n s l a t e d b y Miss D o r o t h y A n n F r e e m a n ,

from the Excitationum ex sermonibus, IV, 444-45, and Cusanus Texte, I, 2-5,
Vier Predigten in Geiste Eckharts . . ., ed. by K o c h , Winter, Heidelberg,
1937, p p . 92-98, respectively, are from R . G. Petry, No Uncertain Sound,
Philadelphia, 1948, p p . 289-294. T h e y are used by permission of T h e
Westminster Press.
29 Cf. the Doct. ign., I l l , 11, the Visio Dei a n d the other sermon, here at-
tached, on the role of faith.
25—L.M.M. 385
overcome are necessarily most evident; and that which most
obviously opposes faith is the certitude which abides in the
senses. Because nothing exists in the intellect that does not exist
first in sense, it is particularly the duty of the virtue of faith to
hold captive the intellect, that it may believe the opposite of
what sense shows. Thence it comes that Christ offers himself as
the Bread of Life to those discerning spirits of ours, which,
through victory over sensible things^ deliver themselves captive
through faith, and without doubt believe that to be true which
sense denies. Such a result, indeed, proceeds from this alone,
that [the spirit] believes him, whom it sees a man, to be the Son
of God. In consequence of this faith, it believes all that the Son
pronounces and preaches as the words of God, to whom nothing
is impossible. But the more impossible anything seems according
to the judgment of the senses, the more possible it is to God, for
the manifestation of this omnipotence and great glory. This
faith shows, moreover, that the bread of the gospel has the
knowledge of life, since it is the word of eternal life and shows
also, since it is the only food of life, the justification of the incar-
nate Word [in its two aspects] of preaching and of the justifying
host. Therefore, for this purpose, to touch the Bread of Life in
faith through victory over appearances, and in opposition to
the sensible world, it has always been necessary to have this
warfare. Since this nourishment is always necessary for us, so
also the strongest faith is always requisite to attain it. For this
reason, when he was about to depart from this world, Christ
promised to abide with us until the end of time, in such way
that his presence should contribute to our attainment of life.
And because he saw that it was especially conducive to the
attainment of life, he concealed himself, the food of spiritual life,
under sensible semblance, having corporeal form, that is the
bread and wine. In this same way he himself appeared cor-
poreally, when he bore the true food of spiritual life hidden in a
body nourished on bread and wine, that is, a body of flesh and
blood. Hence, departing from this world, he left us the Eucharist,
in which he who is the sustenance of the mind lies hidden under
sensible sacramental signs. Just so, while he walked in body on
this earth, he bore hidden in flesh and blood the food of life; so
that in those very foods by which the physical body is fed, the
spirit, when the refreshment of the corruptible manna is with-
drawn, may through faith be nourished by the food of the in-
corruptible bread which comes down from heaven. And there-
fore, even as the stomach by its own heat extracts food from the
A SERMON ON THE EUCHARIST 387
bread of the corruptible manna in order to restore itself, faith by
its own fire may infuse the living spirit into the bread in order
itself to live in life. Therefore, as he himself was sent by the
Father, minister of the word of life which he possessed, minister-
ing the sustenance of life, and offering himself as that suste-
nance, just so he sent the apostles and disciples and their succes-
sors to the end of the ages in the same way as he himself was
sent by the Father, that they also, in the word of life, might
minister the food of life and might offer Christ himself as the
nutriment of life in the form of corporeal foods. And thus you
see how the sustenance of life should be ministered in preaching,
just as in oblation. And the preaching is so much the more per-
fect in proportion to the fruitfulness and the frequency in it of
that sweetest oblation, the mystical body of Christ.
Let us touch upon the cause of this institution. One purpose
was mentioned in the beginning, namely, that thus Christ may
be with us, so that through faith we may be able to partake of
the nutriment of life. And since he is with us as the justifying
host, given for the life of the world, intangible to the senses, we
are able to partake of life through strong faith, in the oblation
of the invisible host, contained under visible semblances. There
is another cause of the institution which we must especially re-
member: that Christ took bread and, giving thanks, broke it,
and gave it to his disciples, saying: "Take and eat; this is my
body which is given for you; this do in commemoration of me"
(cf. Matt. 26:26; Luke 22:19). [Thus] he wished to show that
his true body must be given for them, that he might give them
life. And just as the bread, which he made his body, was one and
was divided, and offered to all, and refreshed each one partak-
ing of it, thus also was it with the wine. Just as Christ, the en-
livening life, unites the whole body of the faithful in the unity of
faith, since he himself is [both] the life and the body of faith,
just so he instituted this sacrament, that in it he himself might
be the food of life, and those sharing in this one bread, the one
body of Christ, by the one food of life should be refreshed.
Christ, therefore, wished that in memory of this, that he himself
was life and gave himself for the faithful, the bread should be
consecrated and given to the faithful. Of the faithful it is there-
fore required that he should participate in the body of Christ,
which is in the sacramental bread, that thus he may show him-
self to remember the sacrifice of Christ for him. This [he should
do] in unity with the mystical body of Christ, in whose existent
body he participates through the bread of faith. And, together
with the mystical body, he shares in the unity of Christ, who is
partaken in the sacrament.
The love of your neighbor is not enough unless it is also in
God, and the existence of the sacrament is necessary for salva-
tion, so that you may be incorporated in the unity of the body of
Christ and the head of Christ, for otherwise you cannot live.
Therefore, it is fitting that you should receive the sacrament of
this unity, so that you may openly show that you believe such an
incorporation to be a necessity for salvation.
"WHERE IS HE WHO IS BORN KING OF
THE J E W S ? "
Matt. 2:2 (On the Epiphany: At Brixen, 1456)
THE TEXT
9. Paul said that we exist in God and move in him, for we are
wayfarers. The wayfarer takes his name and his existence from
the Way. 30 The wayfarer who walks or moves in the infinite
Way, if he is asked where he is, says, "On the Way"; if asked
where he moves, replies, "In the Way"; if asked why he moves,
says, "Because of the Way"; and if asked whither he goes, says,
"From the way to the Way." Accordingly, the infinite Way is
called the place of the wayfarer, and this is God. Therefore, this
Way, outside of which no wayfarer is to be found, is an existenqe
without beginning or end, and from it the wayfarer takes all
that he is or has, and through it he is a wayfarer. The fact that a
farer begins to be a wayfarer on the Way adds nothing to the
infinite Way itself, nor does it make any change in this Way,
which is eternal and immovable.
10. Therefore, take note how the Word of God proclaims it-
self to be the Way; you are able to understand this, because the
living intellect is a wayfarer on the Way or in the Word of life,
from which Way he takes his being and his name, and in which
he moves. If to move is to live, the moving Way is life, and thus it
is the living Way of the living wayfarer. From the Way the
wayfarer receives his life, and the living Way is his place, and he
moves in it and from it, through it and to it. Rightly, therefore,
did the Son of God call himself the Way and the Life.
11. But take note of this also: this Way, which is Life, is also
Truth. The living wayfarer is a rational spirit who in his faring
takes a living delight; for he knows whither he goes. He knows
that he is in the Way of Life, and this Way is Truth, for Truth
30 See the play on Viator and Via in the Latin and Pilger and Wege in the
German. Koch, Vierte Predigten, cols. 92 Lat., and 93 Ger.
389
is the most delightful and the immortal food of his life; through
which he has his being, and by which he is sustained. There-
fore, this living Way, which is also Truth, is, in addition, the
Word of God, itself God, and is "the light of men" walking on
the Way; for the wayfarer, walking, needs no other light to pre-
vent him from walking in darkness, as one not knowing where
he wanders. But the Way, which is Life and Truth, is also
illuminating light, and this light is living, because it shows itself
to be "the light of life."
12. All men enter this world in the same way, but they do not
all live after the same fashion, for although men, like other ani-
mals, are born naked, they clothe themselves, through the art
of the tailor, in order that they may live more comfortably.
Also, they make use of cooked foods, and houses, and horses, and
many such things which art adds to nature for the betterment
of life. These arts we receive as a great gift or favor from their
discoverers. Therefore, although many live in much misery,
grief, and oppression, suffering much, while others lead lives of
hixury in joy and splendor, still we rightly assert that a man, by
various arts or graces, can attain greater peace and joy in life
than nature grants. Many, it is true, have discovered, through
natural ability or divine inspiration, various arts for the im-
provement of living: some have invented the mechanical arts of
sowing, planting, and doing business; others have written out
the laws of politics and economics; and still others have dis-
covered the ethic of habituating themselves through their man-
ners and ways of life to delight in virtuous living, and thus to
govern themselves peacefully. Yet, nevertheless, none of these
arts serve the spirit, but rather they offer suggestions according
to which one can, in this world, live a virtuous life of peace and
quiet and praiseworthiness.
13. Therefore, to these arts religion was added, founded on
divine authority and revelation, to bring man to obedience to
God, through fear of him and love of him and our neighbor; in
the hope of gaining the favor of God, the giver of life, that he
may attain in the present world a long and tranquil life, and in
heaven a life that is joyful and divine. In contrast to all other
forms of religion which fail of true life, the Way to eternal life
was revealed to us through Jesus, the Son of God, who made
known to us the nature of the heavenly life which the sons of
God enjoy, the assurance that we may achieve the sonship of
God, and the means by which we may accomplish it.
But just as the art of living well in this world is variously re-
A SERMON ON CHRIST THE WAY 391
vealed by various insights, and the clearer these are the more
perfect it is, so also religion, which looks to the future life and
orders the present for the sake of the future, has been variously
revealed by prophets foreseeing the future from a distance. And
because no one sees the future life except in imagination, there-
fore only He who came into our human nature from God and
that heavenly life which is future for us could perfectly reveal
religion or the way to it. This is our Jesus, who came from
heaven that we might have life and live more abundantly
through him than through nature, who "began to do and to
teach" how this might be accomplished, and who said: Whoever
follows me, walks not in darkness, but he shall have the light of life
(John 8:12). He who was also the Way of nature was himself,
therefore, the Way to the attainment of grace.
14. Jesus, therefore, is the place where every motion of nature
or of grace comes to rest. The Word of Christ or the teaching,
the command or the example of his motion, is the Way to the
vision or the apprehension of eternal life, which is the life of God,
who alone is immortal; and this life is more abundant than the
life of created nature. But no one can enter into the way of
grace, which leads to the Father, through himself; he must enter
through a gate. Christ who proclaimed himself to be the gate is
also the Way: the faithful Christian, by the work of faith through
love, enters through the gate and finds himself in the Way. The
gate is faith. The Way is love. Thus faith in Christ becomes
both gate and Way. The Word of God the Father summons us
out of nonexistence into existence, and finally to that sort of
existence which the intellectual life enjoys, because it under-
stands its own existence. The Word made flesh summons this
intellectual life through grace to fellowship with the Word,
through which it tastes, in the fountain of the Father, the
sweetness of his divine life, which is imparted to the sons of
God. 3i
3i Cf. Doct. ign., Ill, 4-11, and the Visio Dei, chs. XIX ff.
XIII
Catherine of Genoa (i447-1510)

INTRODUCTION
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
c ATHERINE WAS BORN IN 1 4 4 7 , AT GENOA, OF THE

noble Fieschi family. These distinguished Guelphs had
given a long line of popes, cardinals, bishops, and secular
officials to society. Pious from the first, Catherine wished at
thirteen to follow her sister's example and join a religious order.
Owing, perhaps, to her youth and to family disinclination, she
was not accepted. Several years afterward her father died, and
her brother, through pressure for a diplomatic union of families,
effected her marriage, in 1463, to Giuliano Adorni, a Ghibelline
scion. After an unhappy union with this headstrong youth, she
had an ecstatic experience of conversion in 1474, following
which she secured his promise to release her from marital obli-
gations. Her life was now devoted to strict austerities, long hours
of prayerful, penitential vigil, and a ministry with the Ladies of
Mercy to sick and poor. The hopelessly diseased at St. Lazarus
came to know her loving services quite well. After twenty-five
years without a spiritual director, she received the priest Cat-
taneo Marabotto as her confessor. Subsequent to her conversion,
she kept periodic long fasts and enjoyed the rare privilege of
daily communion. Her husband, received into the Franciscan
Third Order shortly after her conversion, joined her in her voca-
tion of mercy. It is probable that she herself became a Francis-
can Tertiary. She served for years as superintendent of the sick
and, later, as rector of the Genoese hospital. She and her hus-
band lived their last years in humble, rented quarters near this
institution. Here she nursed him in his last illness, 1497-1498.
Given increasingly to burning love for God and sacrificial labors
of love for her fellows, she died in 1510. She was canonized in
1737-
392
INTRODUCTION 393
A good brief summation of the sources, life, doctrine, and in-
fluence of Catherine is by P. Debongnie in the Dictionnaire
d'histoire et de geographie ecclesiastiques, ed., A. Baudrillart et al.,
Vol. I I (Paris, 1939), cols. 1506-1515. More intricately critical
treatments are those by Umile da Genova, O. M. Cap., and
M. Viller in DS II, 290-325, and, by the former, "L'opus
Catharinianum et ses auteurs," in the Revue d'ascetique et de
mystique, Vol. 16 (1935)3 pp. 351-380. The highly controversial
work of Baron F. von Hiigel, The Mystical Element of Religion as
Studied in Saint Catherine of Genoa and Her Friends, 2 vols., J . M.
Dent & Sons, London, and E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc., New
York, 1908, 1923, is indispensable. The editio princeps of the so-
called Opus Catharinianum is the Libro de la Vita mirabile e Dottrina
Santa de la Beata Caterinetta da Genova, Antonio Bellono, Genoa,
1551. This contains the Life in fifty-two chapters, the Purgatory,
undivided, and the Dialogue in two parts. The Vita di B. Catherina
in the edition of A. Maineri was published at Genoa, 1737. Not
available to the present editor was the text of P. Valeriano da
Finale (Finalmarina), Trattato del Purgatorio di Santa Caterina da
Genova, Genoa, 1929 (divided into nineteen chapters as against
the more usual seventeen customary with the 1666 French
translation and thereafter). A useful selection of texts in German
is L. Sertorius, Katharina von Genua: Lebensbild und geistige Gestalt
ihre Werke, Kosel-Pustet, Munich, 1939. See Pourrat, Christian
Spirituality, Vol. II, pp. 286 ff.
SYNOPSIS
Catherine's mystical doctrine finds its center in love. Thus the
Vita and the Dialogue depict the purgative and the illuminative
ways as conducing, finally, to the unitive life in the identifica-
tion of pure love. She finds contemplative union with God
through love's identification. This involves, for the soul, not
merely certain acts of participation, but veritable annihilation
of all self-love and genuine transformation in God. The soul,
created for eternal beatitude, and turned aside from its end by
love of self, needs three purifying stages so that God may reclaim
it for himself and consume everything that holds him at bay. In
the first, the soul participates with God through its progressive
detachment from all obstacles, inner and outer, by which it
nourishes self-love and feeds rebellion against the divine. In the
394 CATHERINE OF GENOA
second, it enjoys numerous spiritual consolations. Fixing itself
in God, it rejoices constantly in him through readings, medita-
tions, and contemplations. Therein it finds instruction in divine
secrets and sweet sustenance. Thus it undergoes transformation
in the divine through a steady preoccupation with God himself.
In the third stage, the soul is borne out of itself, interiorly and
exteriorly. It transcends knowing, finding, or doing, and be-
comes like an inert instrument of the divine, fully attentive to
that which God works in it. The Lord now vouchsafes to the
soul the key to all his treasures, the preoccupation with his all-
surrounding presence. Burning rays of the divine love emanate
from him in such penetrating power as, seemingly, to destroy
everything in its path—actually to remove all hindrance to
union with him. This last stage, in its fullest development, con-
stitutes that purgatory of which Catherine writes. Here she
lends her conscious states in mystic trust to divinely wrought
sufferings in herself, by which she is identified, now, with the
pains of those souls already in purgatorial cleansing.1 The form
of purgation, seen by her in the souls of purgatory, she feels in
her own mind. She sees her own soul within its present body "as
in a purgatory." It is "formed as is the true purgatory and like
it, but so measured that the body can bear with it and not die;
yet little by little it grows until the body die." 2
One senses in Catherine's account of this ultimate purgation
the lacerations produced in the soul by the stress between two
opposing forces: the one attracting it to God, which is the object
of its beatitude, the other setting up the conflicting pull of its
own imperfections. In the give-and-take of Catherine's tension
between God's purity and her own impurity—in the realistic
attribution of her own sufferings to the condition of purgational
sufferers—we discover Catherine's spiritual doctrine already in
full play.
The souls in purgatory suffer pain so great as to be beyond
the descriptive power of any language, or the comprehension of
any intellect (Chs. 2,8). The mind could not understand its least
pang were God not disposed, by his special grace, to make this
possible. Manifestly, the soul undergoing purification for its re-
1 See the Purgatory, chs. i, 9, 17 (19); Dialogue {Dial), pt. II, chs. 2, 6, 8, 10,
and III, 13; Vita, ch. 30. The Purgatory will be referenced subsequently in
the body of the Introduction as ch. 1, etc., without title. Variant number-
ings for i7~(and 19-), chapter editions are indicated. See Hiigel, Mystical
Element, on purgatory, Vol. I, pp. 283-94; Vol. II, pp. 230-46.
2 Purgatory, 17 (19).
INTRODUCTION 395
turn to the state in which it was created finds itself unable to
quench its desire for complete cleansing. With its beatific in-
stinct growing unceasingly, it presses forward with ' 'fierce
charity," impetuous of any hindrance put in the way of its final
purification. Obstacles to this seem unendurable. "The more it
sees, the more extreme is its pain" (Ch. 3).
For Catherine the exquisite anguish of those in purgatory
consists in the violent contrast between the knowledge of the
soul's intended beatitude with God and the realization of the
delay in attaining thereto which is imposed on it because of
the pains it has yet to undergo (Ch. 3). It is this which excites in
the soul an insatiable hunger for the divine. This the saint
describes under the symbolism of the one, all-satisfying loaf
that is ardently desired by every man (Ch. 6).
God is, for the soul, like the light or sun of her life. He exer-
cises upon the soul an irresistible action and attracts her by rays
of love so ardent as seemingly to destroy her, immortal though
she be (Ch. 9(11). This "causes it to be so transformed in God
that it sees itself as though it were none other than God."
Catherine sees rays and shafts of light proceeding from the
divine love toward the soul with such strength and penetration
as seemingly to destroy not only the body but the soul too, were
that possible. The soul, in so far as it is in God, is, of course, in-
destructible. To the extent that it is centered in itself, it can be
obliterated (Ch. 10(12).
Catherine reveals how sin's rust is the real hindrance to God's
entry into the soul. The rust of the body prevents the full reflec-
tion of the sun's rays. A thing thus covered cannot respond to
these rays, not because of the sun's fault, for it goes right on shin-
ing, but because the cover interposes a difficulty. The cover,
once burned away, leaves all open to the sun's penetrating in-
fluence. The more the obstacle is consumed, the greater is the
response to the sun's rays (Ch. 2).
Obviously, the pains of purgatory are extremely distressing.
Catherine's psychology of the souls in purgatory is perhaps the
most personal part of this "poem of purgatory." Joy and sorrow
are inextricably joined. Catherine cannot presume to fathom or
to describe the intensity of such suffering (Ch. 2(3). There is a
triple cause for these terrible pains. The first is the sight that
these souls have of those things in them that are displeasing to
God (Ch. 9 (10). Second is the sight of the divine Love, calling
souls to it, and the knowledge of the obstacle opposed by sin to
this divine Love (Chs. 12 (11, 14). The love of these souls as it
experiences hindrance gives rise to pain. The more perfect the
love of which God makes them capable, the more exquisite does
their suffering become (Ch. 12). Third is the delay in pursuing
the destiny which is the soul's birthright. The grievousness of
thus being frustrated in its panting desire for its end, this hin-
drance put in its way, is what occasions pain unbearable for the
soul (Ch. 17 (19).
Catherine denies that the intensity of pain diminishes in the
course of purgatorial suffering. Pain does not lessen, merely the
time for which it is endured (Ch. 2 (3). With time and the prog-
ress of purification, the nearer the soul approaches heaven, its
end, the more the intensity of its grief mounts. Naturally, then,
the last days and hours of purgatory, just before the soul's
liberation, are the most harrowing of all (Ch. 17).
The reason for this increase of pain is twofold. The greater
knowledge of God augments the desire and the pain (Ch. 3).
The more it perceives, the greater is its suffering. The delay of
union with God, while developing the perfection, increases the
pain (Chs. 12, 13 (14). Joy and sadness coexist in the souls in
purgatory. They know the greatest happiness even as they en-
dure the greatest anguish. One does not hinder the other (Ch.
12 (14). The explanation of this coexistence lies in the fact that
the soul makes more of the divine will than of its own pain, how-
ever great that may be (Ch. 17 (19). "As the man who would let
himself be killed rather than offend God feels death and its pain,
but is given by the light of God a zeal which causes him to rate
divine honor above bodily death, so the soul who knows God's
ordinance rates it above all possible inner and outer torments,
terrible though they may be, for this is a work of God who sur-
passes all that can be felt or imagined" (Ch. 17 (19). In effect,
these souls know a very great joy (Chs. 12 (14), 2) that increases
steadily (Chs. 16 (18), 17), because the rust of sin diminishes
little by little, and because God unveils himself in the measure
that the soul purifies itself (Ch. 2).
The soul in purgatory loves God intensely. The loving God
attracts the loving soul to him with a sweet violence. He it is
who is the mysterious force that "ignites, feeds, and stimulates
the amorous fire which liquefies the soul" (Chs. 9-11 (12, 11).
To repeat, Love transforms the soul so as to recall it to the state
of its first creation. "Unceasingly he draws it to himself and
breathes fire into it, never letting it go until he has led it to the
state whence it came forth, that is, to the pure cleanliness in
which it was created" (Ch. 9 (12). He causes it to ache with the
INTRODUCTION 397
desire for this transformation that consumes it like fire. He
ennobles and purifies it by delivering it (without its having per-
ceived it) from its imperfections, not showing the soul this until
he has destroyed these imperfections. He prostrates it by sup-
pressing in it all vestiges of egotism, by producing in it, through
himself alone, "this last act of love by which he purifies it. . . .
A last act of love is done by God without help from man." So
many are the imperfections of the soul that if these were dis-
closed to it, it would recoil in despair. But having been burned
away, these defects are then shown by God to the soul. Thus it
may behold the divine operation that kindles the fire of love in
which its imperfections have been consumed (Ch. n ) . It re-
joices even as it continues to sorrow (Gh. 12).
The principle is clearly posited that Christian perfection is
won by total self-abnegation. This done, Catherine describes for
us the soul which knows itself all unworthy of the divine
graciousness and entirely incapable of giving itself to the work
of unifying love. It now rises spontaneously to the transforming
and purifying love. Purgatory ceases to be an imposed prison.
It becomes, rather, a desired purification, one that is willed and
amorously sought (Chs. 16-17, 9 (18, 9). This self-abnegation of
souls in purgatory manifests itself by their perfect conformity to
God's own will (Ch. 5 (6-7).
Certain and predictable are the happy results that spring
from this perfect renunciation and conformity of the soul's will
with that of the Divine. The soul fixes its gaze on the working of
the divine goodness. It sloughs off the final remnants of earthly
egoism. Its sole occupation is in God. Purification itself is, as it
were, unconscious. The soul does not rejoice in it as if it were her
own doing. That would be to cancel her own abnegation. She
rejoices in purification in order to experience fuller union with
God (Ch. 12 (15). Following the total destruction of egoistic
pride, the soul voluntarily suffers these pains, knowing that it is
the divine will, so that it would not diminish them if it had the
power (Chs. 16-17 i1^)' This purificatory self-abandon leads
the soul to complete forgetfulness of itself. Also, it is unable to
consider how it suffers these pains for its own sins. It has seen,
once and for all, in the divine judgment the meaning of its sins
and the necessity for their purification. By consequence, it com-
pletely forgets itself, abandoning itself entirely to God. Happy to
accomplish his will in everything, it knows only that because of
its lack of dispatch, pain retards union with the eternal love
(Ch. 1 (1).
As a result of the perfect degree of charity attained by the
soul, as also of the complete renunciation of self, it does not de-
sire to be freed from the prison of purgatory (Ch. 17 (15). The
last fruit of abnegation is the purification from every last vestige
of guilt-laden temporal besmirchment that corrupts the soul,
rendering it unworthy of the blessed life.
What may be said as to the comparison of pains suffered by
those in purgatory and by those doomed to hell? The sense of
unworthiness that the soul feels in God's presence means for the
one in purgatory a deeply harrowing sorrow. For the one in hell
a sense of guilt ensues in a malignant will ever opposed to the
will of God. The pains of hell and purgatory differ less in their
intensity and violence than in the duration of the suffering and
the matter of guilt. Those in hell suffer eternal pain and with
guilt. Those in purgatory suffer finite pain without guilt. Fur-
thermore, the pain of the souls in purgatory is tempered by the
desire for satisfaction that animates them, as also by their per-
fect conformity to the divine will that makes them appreciate
the necessity and Tightness of their sufferings. On the other
hand, the sentiment of Satanic rebellion characteristic of the
damned blinds all such with fury and further anguish (Chs.
3,4)-
Catherine of Genoa (i447-1510)
T R E A T I S E ON P U R G A T O R Y 3
THE TEXT
How by Comparing it to the Divine Fire which she Felt in
Herself, this Soul Understood what Purgatory was like and how
the Souls there were Tormented.
Chapter I
The State of the Souls Who Are in Purgatory, How They Are
Exempt from All Self-love
This holy soul4 found herself, while still in the flesh, placed
by the fiery love of God in purgatory, which burned her, cleans-
ing whatever in her needed cleansing, to the end that when she
passed from this life she might be presented to the sight of God,
her dear Love. By means of this loving fire, she understood in her
soul the state of the souls of the faithful who are placed in
purgatory to purge them of all the rust and stains of sin of which
they have not rid themselves in this life. And since this soul,
placed by the divine fire in this loving purgatory, was united to
that divine love and content with all that was wrought in her,
she understood the state of the souls who are in purgatory. And
she said:
The souls who are in purgatory cannot, as I understand,
choose but be there, and this is by God's ordinance who therein
3 The translation, based on the edition of 1737, is that of Charlotte Balfour

and Helen Douglas Irvine, Saint Catherine of Genoa: Treatise on Purgatory;
The Dialogue, 1946, pp. 17-35. Used by permission of publisher, Sheed &
Ward, Inc., New York and London.
4 This reference and the chapter headings of 4 and 9 are obviously from
other hands, as, indeed, the final form of the Trattato itself is.
399
has done justly. They cannot turn their thoughts back to them-
selves, nor can they say, "Such sins I have committed for which
I deserve to be here," nor, "I would that I had not committed
them for then I would go now to paradise," nor, "That one will
leave sooner than I," nor, "I will leave sooner than he." They
can have neither of themselves nor of others any memory,
whether of good or evil, whence they would have greater pain
than they suffer ordinarily. So happy are they to be within God's
ordinance, and that he should do all which pleases him as it
pleases him that in their greatest pain they cannot think of
themselves. They see only the working of the divine goodness,
which leads man to itself mercifully, so that he no longer sees
aught of the pain or good which may befall him. Nor would
these souls be in pure charity if they could see that pain or good.
They cannot see that they are in pain because of their sins; that
sight they cannot hold in their minds because in it there would
be an active imperfection, which cannot be where no actual sin
can be.
Only once, as they pass from this life, do they see the cause of
the purgatory they endure; never again do they see it for in an-
other sight of it there would be self.5 Being, then, in charity,
from which they cannot now depart by any actual fault, they
can no longer will, nor desire, save with the pure will of pure
charity. Being in that fire of purgatory, they are within the
divine ordinance, which is pure charity, and in nothing can they
depart thence for they are deprived of the power to sin as of the
power to merit.
Chapter II
What Is the Joy of the Souls in Purgatory. A Comparison to Show
How They See God Ever More and More. The Difficulty of
Speaking of This State
I believe no happiness can be found worthy to be compared
with that of a soul in purgatory except that of the saints in para-
dise; and day by day this happiness grows as God flows into
these souls, more and more as the hindrance to his entrance is
consumed. Sin's rust is the hindrance, and the fire burns the
rust away6 so that more and more the soul opens itself up to the
5
"Otherwise self would come in (vi saria una proprietd)." Hiigel, op. cit., Vol.
I, p. 283.
* Sertorius, op. cit., p. 122: Der Rost der Siinde bildet diesen Widerstand; cf.
Hiigel, op. cit.y Vol. I, pp. 290 ff.
TREATISE ON PURGATORY 4OI
divine inflowing. A thing which is covered cannot respond to
the sun's rays, not because of any defect in the sun, which is
shining all the time, but because the cover is an obstacle;7 if
the cover be burned away, this thing is open to the sun; more
and more as the cover is consumed does it respond to the rays
of the sun.
It is in this way that rust, which is sin, covers souls, and in
purgatory is burned away by fire; the more it is consumed, the
more do the souls respond to God, the true sun. As the rust
lessens and the soul is opened up to the divine ray, happiness
grows; until the time be accomplished the one wanes and the
other waxes. Pain, however, does not lessen, but only the time
for which pain is endured. As for will: never can the souls say
these pains are pains, so contented are they with God's ordain-
ing with which, in pure charity, their will is united.
But, on the other hand, they endure a pain so extreme that no
tongue can be found to tell it, nor could the mind understand
its least pang if God by special grace did not show so much.
Which least pang God of his grace showed to this soul, but with
her tongue she cannot say what it is. This sight which the Lord
revealed to me has never since left my mind and I will tell what
I can of it. They will understand whose mind God deigns to
open.
Chapter III
Separation from God Is the Chief Punishment of Purgatory. Wherein
Purgatory Differs from Hell
All the pains of purgatory arise from original or actual sin.
God created the soul pure, simple, and clean of all stain of sin,
with a certain beatific instinct toward Himself whence original
sin, which the soul finds in itself, draws it away, and when
actual is added to original sin the soul is drawn yet farther
away. The farther it departs from its beatific instinct, the more
malignant it becomes because it corresponds less to God.
There can be no good save by participation in God, who
meets the needs of irrational creatures as he wills and has or-
dained, never failing them, and answers to a rational soul in the
measure in which he finds it cleansed of sin's hindrance. When
therefore a soul has come near to the pure and clear state in
which it was created, its beatific instinct discovers itself and
7 Hiigel, op. cit., Vol. I, pp. 290-91: "but because the covering intervenes
{oppositions)."
26—L.M.M.
grows unceasingly, so impetuously and with such fierce charity
(drawing it to its last end) that any hindrance seems to this soul
a thing past bearing. The more it sees, the more extreme is its
pain.
Because the souls in purgatory are without the guilt of sin,
there is no hindrance between them and God except their pain,
which holds them back so that they cannot reach perfection.
Clearly they see the grievousness of every least hindrance in
their way, and see too that their instinct is hindered by a neces-
sity of justice: thence is born a raging fire, like that of hell save
that guilt is lacking to it.8 Guilt it is that makes the will of
the damned in hell malignant, on whom God does not bestow
his goodness and who remain therefore in desperate ill will,
opposed to the will of God.
Chapter IV
Of the State of the Souls in Hell and of the Difference Between
Them and Those in Purgatory. Reflections of This Saint on Those
Who Are Careless of Their Salvation
Hence it is manifest that there is perversity of will, contrary to
the will of God, where the guilt is known and ill will persists,
and that the guilt of those who have passed with ill will from
this life to hell is not remitted, nor can be, since they may no
longer change the will with which they have passed out of this
life, in which passage the soul is made stable in good or evil in
accordance with its deliberate will. As it is written, Ubi te in-
venero, that is in the hour of death, with the will to sin or dis-
satisfaction with sin or repentance for sin, Ibi te judicabo. Of
which judgment there is afterward no remission, as I will show:
After death free will can never return, for the will is fixed as it
was at the moment of death. Because the souls in hell were found
at the moment of death to have in them the will to sin, they
bear the guilt throughout eternity, suffering not indeed the
pains they merit but such pains as they endure, and these with-
out end. But the souls in purgatory bear only pain, for their
guilt was wiped away at the moment of their death when they
were found to be ill content with their sins and repentant for
their offenses against divine goodness. Therefore their pain is
finite and its time ever lessening, as has been said.
O misery beyond all other misery, the greater that human
blindness takes it not into account!
8
Sertorius, op. cit., p. 124: nurfrei von der Schuld. . . .
TREATISE ON PURGATORY 403
The pain of the damned is not infinite in quantity because the
dear goodness of God sheds the ray of his mercy even in hell.
For man dead in sin merits infinite pain for an infinite time, but
God's mercy has allotted infinity to him only in time and has
determined the quantity of his pain; injustice God could have
given him more pain.
O how dangerous is sin committed in malice! Hardly does a
man repent him thereof, and without repentance he will bear
its guilt for as long as he perseveres, that is for as long as he wills
a sin committed or wills to sin again.
Chapter V
Of the Peace and the Joy There Are in Purgatory
The souls in purgatory have wills accordant in all things with
the will of God, who therefore sheds on them his goodness, and
they, as far as their will goes, are happy and cleansed of all their
sin. As for guilt, these cleansed souls are as they were when God
created them, for God forgives their guilt immediately who have
passed from this life ill content with their sins, having confessed
all they have committed and having the will to commit no
more. Only the rust of sin is left them and from this they cleanse
themselves by pain in the fire. Thus cleansed of all guilt and
united in will to God, they see him clearly in the degree in
which he makes himself known to them, and see too how much
it imports to enjoy him and that souls have been created for this
end. Moreover, they are brought to so uniting a conformity
with God, and are drawn to him in such wise, his natural in-
stinct toward souls working in them, that neither arguments nor
figures nor examples can make the thing clear as the mind
knows it to be in effect and as by inner feeling it is understood to
be. I will, however, make one comparison which comes to my
mind.
Chapter VI
A Comparison to Show with What Violence and What Love the
Souls in Purgatory Desire to Enjoy God
If in all the world there were but one loaf of bread to feed the
hunger of all creatures, and if they were satisfied by the sight of
it alone, then since man, if he be healthy, has an instinct to eat,
his hunger, if he neither ate nor sickened nor died, would grow
unceasingly for his instinct to eat would not lessen. Knowing
that there was only that loaf to satisfy him and that without it
he must still be hungry, he would be in unbearable pain. All the
more if he went near that loaf and could not see it would his
natural craving for it be strengthened; his instinct would fix his
desire wholly on that loaf which held all that could content him;
at this point, if he were sure he would never see the loaf again,
he would be in hell. Thus are the souls of the damned from
whom any hope of ever seeing their Bread, which is God, the
true Saviour, has been taken away. But the souls in purgatory
have the hope of seeing their Bread and wholly satisfying them-
selves therewith. Therefore they suffer hunger and endure pain
in that measure in which they will be able to satisfy themselves
with the Bread which is Jesus Christ, true God and Saviour and
our Love.9
Chapter VII
Of God s Admirable Wisdom in Making Purgatory and Hell10
9
As the clean and purified spirit can find rest only in God, hav-
ing been created for this end, so there is no place save hell for
the soul in sin, for whose end hell was ordained by God. When
the soul as it leaves the body is in mortal sin, then, in the instant
in which spirit and body are separated, the soul goes to the
place ordained for it, unguided save by the nature of its sin.
And if at that moment the soul were bound by no ordinance
proceeding from God's justice, it would go to a yet greater hell
than that in which it abides, for it would be outside his ordi-
nance, in which divine mercy has part so that God gives the
soul less pain than it deserves. The soul, finding no other place
to hand nor any holding less evil for it, casts itself by God's
ordinance into hell as into its proper place.
To return to our matter which is the purgatory of the soul
separated from the body when it is no longer clean as it was
created: seeing in itself the impediment which can be taken
away only by means of purgatory, it casts itself therein swiftly
and willingly. Were there not the ordinance it thus obeys, one
fit to rid it of its encumbrance, it would in that instant beget
within itself a hell worse than purgatory, for it would see that
because of that impediment it could not draw near to God, its
end. So much does God import that purgatory in comparison
9 Cf. Hugel, op. cit., Vol. I, pp. 288 ff.
10 Cf. Dial., Ill, 13, on purgatory, hell, etc.; cf. Vita, 12, 14, 30.
counts not at all, for all that it is, as has been said, like hell. But
compared to God it appears almost nothing.
Chapter VIII
Of the Necessity of Purgatory. How Terrible It Is
When I look at God, I see no gate to paradise, and yet be-
cause God is all mercy he who wills enters there. God stands
before us with open arms to receive us into his glory.11 But well
I see the divine essence to be of such purity, greater far than
can be imagined, that the soul in which there is even the least
note of imperfection would rather cast itself into a thousand
hells than find itself thus stained in the presence of the divine
Majesty.12 Therefore the soul, understanding that purgatory has
been ordained to take away those stains, casts itself therein, and
seems to itself to have found great mercy in that it can rid itself
there of the impediment which is the stain of sin.
No tongue can tell or explain, no mind understand, the
grievousness of purgatory. But I, though I see that there is in
purgatory as much pain as in hell, yet see the soul which has the
least stain of imperfection accepting purgatory, as I have said,
as though it were a mercy, and holding its pains of no account
as compared with the least stain which hinders a soul in its love.
I seem to see that the pain which souls in purgatory endure
because of whatever in them displeases God—that is, what they
have willfully done against his so great goodness—is greater
than any other pain they feel in purgatory. And this is because,
being in grace, they see the truth and the grievousness of the
hindrance which stays them from drawing near to God.
Chapter IX
How God and the Souls in Purgatory Look at Each Other. The
Saint Acknowledges that in Speaking of These Matters She Cannot
Express Herself
All these things which I have surely in mind, in so much as in
this life I have been able to understand them, are, as compared
with what I have said, extreme in their greatness. Beside them
all the sights and sounds and justice and truths of this world
" Vita, 30.
12 Gf. Dial., I l l , 6; Hiigel, op. cit., Vol. I, p. 284: "the least mote (minimo
cM)" Sertorius, op. cit., p. 130 reads: "Nur ein Splitterchen Unvollkommenheit
in sic hat. . . . "
seem to me lies and nothingness. I am left confused because I
cannot find words extreme enough for these things.
I perceive there to be so much conformity between God and
the soul that when he sees it in the purity in which his divine
Majesty created it he gives it a burning love, which draws it to
himself, which is strong enough to destroy it, immortal though
it be, and which causes it to be so transformed in God that it
sees itself as though it were none other than God. Unceasingly
he draws it to himself and breathes fire into it, never letting it
go until he has led it to the state whence it came forth, that is,
to the pure cleanliness in which it was created.
When with its inner sight the soul sees itself drawn by God
with such loving fire, then it is melted by the heat of the glowing
love for God, its most dear Lord, which it feels overflowing it.
And it sees by the divine light that God does not cease from
drawing it, nor from leading it, lovingly and with much care
and unfailing foresight, to its full perfection, doing this of his
pure love. But the soul, being hindered by sin, cannot go whither
God draws it; it cannot follow the uniting look with which he
would draw it to himself. Again the soul perceives the grievous-
ness of being held back from seeing the divine light; the soul's
instinct too, being drawn by that uniting look, craves to be un-
hindered. I say that it is the sight of these things that begets in
the souls the pain they feel in purgatory. Not that they make
account of their pain; most great though it be, they deem it a far
less evil than to find themselves going against the will of God,
whom they clearly see to be on fire with extreme and pure love
for them.
Strongly and unceasingly this love draws the soul with that
uniting look, as though it had nought else than this to do. Could
the soul who understood find a worse purgatory in which to rid
itself sooner of all the hindrance in its way, it would swiftly fling
itself therein, driven by the conforming love between itself and
God.1*
Chapter X
How God Uses Purgatory to Make the Soul Wholly Pure. The
Soul Acquires in Purgatory a Purity So Great that Were It Well
for It Still to Stay There After It Had Been Purged of Sin, It
Would No Longer Suffer
I see, too, certain rays and shafts of light which go out from
13 Hugel, op. cit.9 Vol. I, p. 284.
that divine love toward the soul and are penetrating and strong
enough to seem as though they must destroy not only the body
but the soul too, were that possible. Two works are wrought by
these rays: the first, purification, and the second, destruction.
Look at gold: the more you melt it, the better it becomes; you
could melt it until you had destroyed in it every imperfection.
Thus does fire work on material things. The soul cannot be
destroyed in so far as it is in God, but in so far as it is in itself it
can be destroyed; the more it is purified, the more is self de-
stroyed within it, until at last it is pure in God.
When gold has been purified up to twenty-four carats, it can
no longer be consumed by any fire; not gold itself but only dross
can be burned away. Thus the divine fire works in the soul: God
holds the soul in the fire until its every imperfection is burned
away and it is brought to perfection, as it were to the purity of
twenty-four carats, each soul however according to its own
degree. When the soul has been purified, it stays wholly in God,
having nothing of self in it; its being is in God who has led this
cleansed soul to himself; it can suffer no more, for nothing is left
in it to be burned away; were it held in the fire when it has thus
been cleansed, it would feel no pain. Rather, the fire of divine
love would be to it like eternal life and in no way contrary to
it.14
Chapter XI
Of the Desire of Souls in Purgatory to Be Wholly Cleansed of the
Stains of Their Sins. The Wisdom of God Who Suddenly Hides
Their Faults from These Souls
The soul was created as well conditioned as it is capable of
being for reaching perfection, if it live as God has ordained and
do not foul itself with any stain of sin. But, having fouled itself
by original sin, it loses its gifts and graces and lies dead, nor can
it rise again save by God's means. And when God, by baptism,
has raised it from the dead, it is still prone to evil, inclining and
being led to actual sin unless it resist. And thus it dies again.
Then God by another special grace raises it again, yet it stays
so sullied and so turned to self that all the divine workings of
which we have spoken are needed to recall it to its first state in
which God created it; without them it could never get back
thither. And when the soul finds itself on the road back to its
first state, its need to be transformed in God kindles in it a fire
14 See, further, on the divine, vivifying light and flaming rays of love,
Purgatory, chs. 2, 9, etc.; Dial., I l l , 12; Vita, 21, 31.
so great that this is its purgatory. Not that it can look upon this
as purgatory, but its instinct to God, aflame and thwarted,
makes purgatory.
A last act of love is done by God without help from man. 15
So many hidden imperfections are in the soul that, did it see
them, it would live in despair. But in the state of which we have
spoken they are all burned away, and only when they have
gone does God show them to the soul, so that it may see that
divine working which kindles the fire of love in which its im-
perfections have been burned away.
Chapter XII
How Suffering in Purgatory Is Coupled with Joy
Know that what man deems perfection in himself is in God's
sight faulty, for all the things a man does which he sees or feels
or means or wills or remembers to have a perfect seeming are
wholly fouled and sullied unless he acknowledge them to be
from God. If a work is to be perfect it must be wrought in us,
but not chiefly by us, for God's works must be done in him and
not wrought chiefly by man.
Such works are those last wrought in us by God of his pure
and clean love, by him alone without merit of ours, and so
penetrating are they and such fire do they kindle in the soul,
that the body which wraps it seems to be consumed as in a fur-
nace never to be quenched until death. It is true that love for
God which fills the soul to overflowing gives it, so I see it, a
happiness beyond what can be told, but this happiness takes
not one pang from the pain of the souls in purgatory. Rather
the love of these souls, finding itself hindered, causes their pain;
and the more perfect is the love of which God has made them
capable, the greater is their pain.
So that the souls in purgatory enjoy the greatest happiness
and endure the greatest pain; the one does not hinder the other.
Chapter XIII
The Souls in Purgatory Are No Longer in a State to Acquire Merit.
How These Souls Look on the Charity Exercised for Them in the
World
If the souls in purgatory could purge themselves by contri-
15 Vita, 31; cf. Vita, 41.
tion, they would pay all their debt in one instant, such blazing
vehemence would their contrition have in the clear light shed
for them on the grievousness of being hindered from reaching
their end and the love of God.
Know surely that not the least farthing of payment is remitted
to those souls, for thus has it been determined by God's justice.
So much for what God does; as for what the souls do, they can
no longer choose for themselves, nor can they see or will, save
as God wills, for thus has it been determined for them.
And if any alms be done them by those who are in the world
to lessen the time of their pain, they cannot turn with affection
to contemplate the deed, saving as it is weighed in the most just
scales of the divine will. They leave all in God's hands who pays
himself as his infinite goodness pleases. If they could turn to
contemplate the alms except as it is within the divine will, there
would be self in what they did and they would lose sight of God's
will, which would make a hell for them. Therefore they await
immovably all that God gives them, whether pleasure and hap-
piness or pain, and never more can they turn their eyes back to
themselves.
Chapter XIV
Of the Submission of the Souls in Purgatory to God's Will
So intimate with God are the souls in purgatory, and so
changed to his will, that in all things they are content with his
most holy ordinance. And if a soul were brought to see God
when it had still a trifle of which to purge itself, a great injury
would be done it. For since pure love and supreme justice could
not brook that stained soul, and to bear with its presence would
not befit God, it would suffer a torment worse than ten pur-
gatories. To see God when full satisfaction had not yet been
made him, even if the time of purgation lacked but the twin-
kling of an eye, would be unbearable to that soul. It would sooner
go to a thousand hells, to rid itself of the little rust still clinging
to it, than stand in the divine presence when it was not yet
wholly cleansed.
Chapter XV
Reproaches Which the Souls in Purgatory Make to People in the
World
And so that blessed soul,16 seeing the aforesaid things by the
16
An obvious editorial insertion.
divine light, said: "I would fain send up a cry so loud that it
would put fear in all men on the earth. I would say to them,
'Wretches, why do you let yourselves be thus blinded by the
world, you whose need is so great and grievous, as you will
know at the moment of death, and who make no provision for it
whatsoever?'
"You have all taken shelter beneath hope in God's mercy,
which is, you say, very great, but you see not that this great
goodness of God will judge you for having gone against the
will of so good a Lord. His goodness should constrain you to
do all his will, not give you hope in ill-doing, for his justice
cannot fail but in one way or another must needs be fully
satisfied.
"Cease to hug yourselves, saying, 'I will confess my sins and
then receive plenary indulgence, and at that moment I shall be
purged of all my sins and thus shall be saved.' Think of the
confession and the contrition needed for that plenary indul-
gence, so hardly come by that, if you knew, you would tremble
in great fear, more sure you would never win it than that you
ever could."
Chapter XVI
This Soul Shows Again How the Sufferings of the Souls in Purga-
tory Are No Hindrance at All to Their Peace and Their Joy
I see the souls suffer the pains of purgatory having before
their eyes two works of God.
First, they see themselves suffering pain willingly, and as they
consider their own deserts and acknowledge how they have
grieved God, it seems to them that he has shown them great
mercy, for if his goodness had not tempered justice with mercy,
making satisfaction with the precious blood of Jesus Christ, one
sin would deserve a thousand perpetual hells. And therefore the
souls suffer pain willingly, and would not lighten it by one pang,
knowing that they most fully deserve it and that it has been well
ordained, and they no more complain of God, as far as their will
goes, than if they were in eternal life.
The second work they see is the happiness they feel as they
contemplate God's ordinance and the love and mercy with
which he works on the soul.
In one instant God imprints these two sights on their minds,
and because they are in grace they are aware of these sights and
understand them as they are, in the measure of their capacity.
Thus a great happiness is granted them which never fails;

rather, it grows as they draw nearer God. These souls see these
sights neither in nor of themselves but in God, on whom they
are far more intent than on the pains they suffer, and of whom
they make far greater account, beyond all comparison, than of
their pains. For every glimpse which can be had of God exceeds
any pain or joy a man can feel. Albeit, however, it exceeds the
pain and joy of these souls, it lessens them by not a little.
Chapter XVII
She Concludes by Applying All She Has Said of the Souls in
Purgatory to What She Feels and Has Proved in Her Own Soul
This form of purgation, which I see in the souls in purgatory,
I feel in my own mind. In the last two years I have felt it most;
every day I feel and see it more clearly. I see my soul within this
body as in a purgatory, formed as is the true purgatory and like
it, but so measured that the body can bear with it and not die;
yet little by little it grows until the body die.
I see my spirit estranged from all things, even things spiritual,
which can feed it, such as gaiety, delight, and consolation, and
without the power so to enjoy anything, spiritual or temporal,
by will or mind or memory, as to let me say one thing contents
me more than another.
Inwardly I find myself, as it were, besieged. All things by
which spiritual or bodily life is refreshed have, little by little,
been taken from my inner self, which knows, now they are gone,
that they fed and comforted. But so hateful and abhorrent are
these things, as they are known to the spirit, that they all go
never to return. This is because of the spirit's instinct to rid itself
of whatever hinders its perfection; so ruthless is it that to fulfill
its purpose it would all but cast itself into hell. Therefore it ever
deprives the inner man of all on which it can feed, besieging it
so cunningly that it lets not the least atom of imperfection pass
unseen and unabhorred.
As for my outer man, it too, since the spirit does not respond
to it, is so besieged that it finds nothing to refresh it on the earth
if it follow its human instinct. No comfort is left it save God, who
works all this by love and very mercifully in satisfaction of his
justice. To perceive this gives my outer man great peace and
happiness, but happiness which neither lessens my pain nor
weakens the siege. Yet no pain could ever be inflicted on me so
great that I would wish to depart from the divine ordinance. I
neither leave my prison nor seek to go forth from it: let God do
what is needed! My happiness is that God be satisfied, nor could
I suffer a worse pain that that of going outside God's ordinance,
so just I see him to be and so very merciful.
All these things of which I have spoken are what I see and, as
it were, touch, but I cannot find fit words to say as much as I
would of them. Nor can I say rightly what I have told of the
work done in me, which I have felt spiritually. I have told it,
however.
The prison in which I seem to myself to be is the world, my
chains the body, and it is my soul enlightened by grace which
knows the grievousness of being held down or kept back and
thus hindered from pursuing its end.17 This gives my soul great
pain, for it is very tender. By God's grace it receives a certain
dignity which makes it like unto God; nay, rather he lets it
share his goodness so that it becomes one with him. And since
it is impossible that God suffer pain, this immunity too befalls
the souls who draw near him; the nearer they come to him, the
more they partake of what is his.
Therefore to be hindered on its way, as it is, causes the soul
unbearable pain. The pain and the hindrance wrest it from its
first natural state, which by grace is revealed to it, and, finding
itself deprived of what it is able to receive, it suffers a pain more
or less great according to the measure of its esteem for God. The
more the soul knows God, the more it esteems him and the more
sinless it becomes, so that the hindrance in its way grows yet
more terrible to it, above all because the soul which is un-
hindered and wholly recollected in God knows him as he truly
is.
As the man who would let himself be killed rather than offend
God feels death and its pain, but is given by the light of God a
zeal which causes him to rate divine honor above bodily death,
so the soul who knows God's ordinance rates it above all pos-
sible inner and outer torments, terrible though they may be, for
this is a work of God who surpasses all that can be felt or im-
agined. Moreover, God when he occupies a soul, in however
small a degree, keeps it wholly busied over his Majesty so that
nothing else counts for it. Thus it loses all which is its own, and
can of itself neither see nor speak nor know loss or pain. But, as
17 Cf. Dial., passim, especially pt. II, chs. 2, 6, 8, 10, 11, on soul, body, and
purgatory.
I have already said clearly, it knows all in one instant when it
leaves this life.
Finally and in conclusion, let us understand that God who is
best and greatest causes all that is of man to be lost, and that
purgatory cleanses it away.
END OF THE TREATISE ON PURGATORY
INDEXES
GENERAL INDEX
Abalienatio, 48. See Alienatio mentis Bede the Venerable, 41

Abgeschiedenheit, 176, 33011. See Dis-Beghards, 249 ff., 285
interest; Detachment Beguines, 249 ff., 285
Abysm, and abyss, 176, 249, 256, 294, Being, and intellection, 171 ff., 196 ft;;
296, 308 ff., 319 Benedict of Aniane, 41, 42n
Adam of St. Victor, 80 ff., 113-115 Benedict of Nursia, and the Benedie>
Affective spirituality, 20, 43, n8ff., tine Rule, 31, 38, 40 ff., 43, 44n
145 ff., 288 ff. See Speculative spiritu- Benedict XII, Pope, 287
ality Benedict XIII, Pope, 268
Affirmative theology, 353 ff. Bernard of Glairvaux, 19, 20, 22, 31,
Agape, 35 38, 41, 43, 44, 47-78, 81, 96, 118,
Alcuin, 42n 209, 265; his life, 48; literature on,
Alexander Hales, 126 49; and De diligendo Deo, 50 f., 54 ff.;
Al-Ghazzali, I73n and on the Song of Songs, 50 ff., 66 ff.;
Alienatio mentis, 84 ff. See Abalienatio and the Grades of Humility, 51; on
Alienation, from self, 84, 188. See Bride and Bridegroom, 51, 76; on
Abalienatio; Alienatio mentis; Excessus ecstasy and pure love, 52; and the
mentis threefold kiss, 53; and the Verbum
Allegory, and allegories, 33 ff., 81 ff. sponsus, 52; on dissimilarity and
Amor intellectus, 47 similarity, 52n; and the mixed life,
Analogy, 36 f., 129 ff. 53; on why and how to love God,
Angelo da Glareno, 2i3n 54 ff.; on four degrees of love, 60 ff.;
Anselm of Canterbury, 20, 43-44 on three ways of loving God, 66 ff.;
Apatheia, and apathy, 31 f., 47 on rational and spiritual love, 73
Apophase, 34 Bild. See Images
Apotheosis. See Deification Blessedness, 87 f., 104 f., 309 f., 312 f.,
Aristocrat. See Nobleman 3i7> 322
Aristotle, 24, 361 Blood, Christ's, 275 f.
Asceticism, in relation to monasticism Boethius, 38, 83 f.
and mysticism, 19 f., 21 ff., 32, 39 ff., Bonaventure, 20, 33, 96, n8n, 119,
147 ff. 126—141, 144; his life, 126; Itinerarium
Aspiration, and expiration, 290 ff. mentis in deum, 126; and Franciscan
Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, 18, 22 f., ecstasy, 127, 139 ff.; on three spiritual
27-31* 38 f., 40, 41* 43? 44*, 6on, directions, 127, 133; and mens, 127,
63n, 81, 84, 128, 253n, 254n, 286 ff., 133; six grades, 128, 134; Requies
3 o8n, 377 mystica, 128, 138 ff.; the triple way,
128 ff.; on vestigia, 1326°., 139; on
Basil of Caesarea, 37 mystical theology, 132, 140; on the
Beatific instinct, 395 ff., 401 mysterious darkness, 140 ff.
Beatitude, 393 ff. Brethren of the Common Life, 285
415
416 INDEXES
Brethren of the Free Spirit, 249, 285 Core, of the soul, 173, 186
Bride and Bridegroom, 48, 51 ff., 76 ff. Coudenberg, Francis van, 285
Cubiculum, of the soul, 51, 173. See
Color, 210 Castle
Canor, 210
Cassian, John, 23, 31-33, 37, 42, 44n Dalton, John de, Esq., 208 ff.
Cassiodorus, 38, 44n Damian, Peter, 43
Castle, the little, 173 and n Darkness, mystical, 34, 140 ff., 187 ff.,
Cataphase, 34 24?, 3 J 9
Catherine of Genoa, 392-413; her life, De diligendo Deo, 50 ff.
392; literature
wa
on, 393; on the triple Degrees, contemplative, 21, 37, 60, 71,
Y> 393; o n self-love, 393, 399; and 74> 85, 133 ff., 288, 297n
beatitude, 393 ff.; on purgatory, Deification, 51, 64, 322, 376
394 ff., 399 ff., 404 ff.; on sin's rust, Deity, 172, 176, 248 ff.
395 ff., 400 f., 403, 409; and the sun's Desert, 172, 183 ff., 294n
rays, 395 ff., 401,407; self-abnegation Detachment, 175, 251. See Abgeschieden-
and renunciation, 397 ff.; on pain heit
and guilt, 398, 402 ff.; and the Dilatatio mentis, 84 ff.
beatific instinct, 395, 401; and the Dionysius. See Pseudo-Dionysius the
heat of love, 406 ff.; a last act of love, Areopagite
408 Dionysius the Carthusian, 14m
Catherine of Siena, 263-284; her life, Discretion, 109 ff.
263; literature on, 264; on the cell of Disinterest, 176. See Abgeschiedenheit
self-knowledge, 265, 270, 274; and Dissimilarity and similarity, 52n
her apostolate, 265, 268; on faith as Divine office, 48
the pupil of the eye of intelligence, Divine readings. See Lectio divina
266, 268, 271; on the Sacraments, Dominic, 263
266; and the light of reason, 266 ff.; Dominicans, 20, 142, 245 ff., 263 ff.
on the natural and supernatural Dulcor, 210
light, 267 ff.; on self-love, 267, 274, Durchbruch, or break-through, 249 ff.
277, 279; love of neighbor, 268, 271,
278 ff., 280 ff; her ecstasy and stig- Eckhart, Meister, 35, 170-207, 245 ff.,
mata, 269; on four requests, 271; on 247 ff, 286 ff., 294n, 324, 327 ff.; his
the reform of the Church, 271 ff.; on life, 170; literature on, 170 ff.; on the
lagrime, or tears, 272n; on guilt and desert of the deity, 172 ff, 183, 188;
penalty, 273, 275 ff.; and Christ's on intellection and being, 172 ff.; on
blood, 275 ff.; and the diamond, 276; creaturely nothingness, 172 ff.; his
her manliness, 277 ff.; on the per- castle of the soul, 173 ff.; on ground
verse root and law, 280 ff. and spark, 173; on God and the God-
Cattaneo Marabotto, 392 head, 174, 178 ff.; on Nobleman or
Cell of self-knowledge, 265, 270, 274 Aristocrat, 174; on liturgy and sacra-
Cellaria, 51 ments, 175, 203 ff.; on detachment
Christiformity, 358 and disinterestedness, 175 ff, 200;
Christocentric mysticism, 131 on eternal birth, 177 ff., 186 ff.; on
Cistercians, 19 action and contemplation, 176,
Cloud, mystical, 242 179 ff, 193, 207; on exercises and
Cloud, or fog, of coincidence, 353 ff., vows, 183 ff; on God's love, 191 ff.
357; of reason, 365 Ecstasy, 21, 25, 34, 35, 43, 44, 48, 51,
Cluny, and Cluniac spirituality, 42, 44 52, 117, 118, 127, 128, 129, 139, 140,
Coincidence of contradiction, or of 144, 146, 194, 210, 261, 263 ff.,
contraries, 354 ff. 290 ff, 347. See Excessus mentis',
Common life, 287 ff., 292 ff. Rapture; Ravishment
Complicatio, 356 ff., 368n Elevation, 84
Complication, 353 ft. Enfolding, and unfolding, 355 ff.,
Contemplation, and mystical experi- 367 ff. See Complicatio; Explicatio
ence, 17 ff., 23; in balance with Enlightenment. See Triple way
action, 22, 30, 39 ff., 53, 176, 207, Eros, 25, 35, 37
247, 285 ff, 319, 358 Ervisius, 79 ff.
Copulative theology, 353 ff. Eschatology, 44
INDEXES 417
Eternal will, 323 ff., 341 ff. Ground. See Grund
Eucharist, the, 44, 130 ff., 175, 385 ff. Grosseteste, Robert, 73
See Sacrament Grund, 173 ff., 248 ff, 287 ff, 308 ff,
Eugenius III, Pope, 49 319 ff-, 335n
Eugenius IV, Pope, 352 Guarric of Igniac, 47 ff, 49
Evagrius, 31 Guilt, and penalty, 273 ff., 398, 402 ff.
Excessus (mentis), 44, 51, 52, 84 ff., 85,
112 ff., 139 ff, 14m Harding, Stephen, 48
Exemplarism, 128 ff, 144 ff., 287 Heat, and spiritual fervor, 48, 210, 225,
Explication 356 ff, 368n 230, 234 ff, 237 ff, 312 ff, 3*7 ff,
Explication, 353 ff. 382, 406
Eye of intelligence, the, 268, 271 ff. Hierarchy, concept of, 35 f., ugff.,
Eyes, two, 327 ff. 129 ff, 143 ff, 358 ff.
Hilduin, 33, 42
Faith, 265 ff, 356 ff, 391 Hilton, Walter, 209, 2ion
False Light, and True, 325 f., 33 m Hinckaert, Jan, 285
Fire, contemplative, 209, 235, 238 ff. Hound of conscience, 275
Flux, and reflux, 287 ff. Hours, canonical, 118
Fog. See Cloud Hugh of Cluny, 42
Francis of Assisi, 19, 116-125, 126, 127, Hugh of St. Victor, 33, 79 ff, 86-95,
129, 131, 140, 143, 145, 211 ff, I35n; literature on, 80; on learning,
246 ff; and apostolic poverty, 116 ff., 81; on allegory and Scripture, 8i ff.,
122 ff.; and the offices and liturgy, 86 ff.; the way to contemplation,
117 ff; on the hierarchy of creation, 82 ff; sacramental life, 82, 86 ff; on
119; and ecstasies, 1176°.; and creation and restoration, 82; on
stigmata, 118 knowledge and self-knowledge, 82,
Franciscans, 20, 142, 211 ff., 392 93 ff.; light and darkness, 86-89;
Free Spirits, 325 ff. degrees of cognition and contempla-
Friends of God, 245 ff. tion, 90; the soul's nuptials, 94-95
Fiinklein, 173
Ignorance. See Learned ignorance
Gelassenheit, 245 ff., 247 f., 249n, 259 ff. Illumination. See Triple way
Genera, of contemplation, 83 ff. Images, the role of, 39, 82 ff., 176,
German Theology, the, 33, 321-351; and 248 ff, 252 ff, 293 ff, 304 ff, 318 ff.,
the triple way, 322 ff, 326, 336; on 320 ff., 324 ff, 328 ff, 335n, 375
deification, 322, 325 ff; on self-will Imagination, the role of, 83 ff., 97 ff,
and eternal will, 322 ff, 326, 336 ff, 101 ff.
340 ff.; Nachfolge Christi, 322, 326; on Ingressio, the, 28
the Nobility of the soul, 323 ff.; on Intellection, and being, 172, 355 ff, 362
passivity and activity, 324 ff, 338 ff.; Intellectual love. See Amor intellectus
on imagery and images, 324, 328, Introversion, 21, 29, 287 ff, 315 ff.
335; False Lights and Free Spirits,
325ff-> 33 In 5 °n two eyes, 327 ff; 319 ff-
on eternity and the Godhead, 327; Invisibles, and visibles, 82 ff., 101 ff.,
on noble glances, 329; sacrament and n o ff, 141
sacraments, 338; on Gott and Gottheit, Isidore of Seville, 41, 194
342n; concerning the Nothing, 347;
and ecstasy, 347 Jacopone da Todi, 2i3n
Gerson, Jean, 287, 358 Jerome, 43, 44
Gilduin, 79 ff. John of Fecampe, 43
Giuliano Adorni, 392 John Scotus Eriugena, 33, 42
Gott, and Gottheit, 174, 342n Joy, 65, 105 f., 117 ff., 119, 139, I45>
Grades, contemplative, 28 ff., 134. See 157 ff, 212, 235 ff, 240-244, 247 ff.
Ladders; Stages Julianus Pomerius, 38
Gregory I (the Great), Pope, 22, 23,31,
38-41, 42, 44, 81, 209, 26m, 265 Kirkeby, Margaret, 208
Gregory XI, Pope, 263 Kiss, the mystic, 48, 53
Gregory Nazianzen, 31 Knowledge, role of, 44, 82 ff., 90 f., 93,
Groote, Gerard, 285 172 ff., 209 ff.
27—L.M.M.
418 INDEXES
Ladders, 21, 133 ff., 162, 239 ff. folding, and explication or unfolding,
Lagrime, 27211. See Tears 353, 355 ff-, 357, 367 ff-, 368n;
Learned ignorance, 35, 67, 295 ff., mystical theology, 354; on the
308 ff., 353 ff, 360 ff absolute maximum, 354 ff, 356 f.,
Lectio divina, 44 and n 361 ff; on quiddity or essence, 354,
Levitation, 52 363; coincidence of contradiction,
Light, natural and supernatural, 267 ff. 355 ff-, 357 ff-, 376; on simple intel-
Liturgy, and contemplative life, 41 ff, lection, 355, 362; on faith and under-
45 *"-, 48, 79 ff-, 113 ff-> J J 7 ff-, *75 standing, 355, 357, 364 ff, 381; the
Logos, the, 25 possest, 356; charged with pantheism,
Lull, Ramon, 20, 119,131, 142-169; his 356; Providence, or non aliud, 356;
life, 142; literature on, 143; concept Christiformity, 358; hierarchy, 358;
of hierarchy, 143; and Franciscan church, liturgy, and sacraments, 358,
renunciation, 144 ff; ecstatic en- 385 ff, 387 ff; on ravishment or
counter, 144 ff; exemplarism, 144; ecstasy, 364, 368, 377, 379, 384; on
on knights and clergy, I53n; on images, 375; on deification, 376; on
language schools and missions, 142 f., the heat of divine love, 382; on
148, 149-156 Jesus Christ the Way, 358, 389 ff.
Luminous mysticism, 29 ff, 39, 65, 235, Nobility, of the soul, 323 ff.
242 Nobleman, the, 174
Luther, Martin, 321 Nothing, the, 347n
Nous, the, 26
Majolus of Cluny, 42 Nudity of images, 293, 304
Manliness, spiritual, 277 f. Nullity, or pure nothingness of the
Marsilius of Padua, 2i3n creature, 172, 249 ff.
Maximum, the absolute, 354 ff, 357 f.,
361 ff Odilon of Cluny, 42
Mendicants, the, 20, 212 Odo of Cluny, 42
Metis, 127 ff, 133 ff. Oracles, mystic, 33
Michael de Cesena, 2i3n Orsini, Cardinal, 352
Mirror, the mystic, 82 ff, 111 ff, 134 ff,
139 ff, 241
Mirth, heavenly, 223 ff, 235 ff, 240 ff Pantheism, charges of, 287, 356
Misyn, Richard, 209 Paschasius Radbertus, 42
Mixed life, the, 53, 209, 247 Passive, and active, intellect, 180 ff.
Monasticism, in relation to mysticism, Passivity of the mystic, 26, 30, 39,
19 ff, 21 ff, 32 f., 37 ff, 4iff-> 46, 290 ff, 324 ff
50, 175, 212 Peak, of the contemplative life, 26, 35,
Mysticism, province and character of 172, 198
the contemplative life, 17 ff; the Peripatetics, the, 24
setting for late medieval, 22 ff; in Perversity, of self love, 280 ff
Plato, 23 ff; in Aristotle and Philo, Peter de Celle, 44
24 ff; in Plotinus, 25 ff.; in Augus- Peter the Venerable, 44, 49
tine, 27 ff; in Cassian, 31 ff.; in the Philo, 2in, 24-25
Pseudo-Dionysius, 33 ff; from Bene- Plato, and the Platonists, 2in, 23-24,
dict through Gregory the Great, 30, 288
37 f.; from Gregory to Bernard, 41 ff Plotinus, 2in, 25-27, 30, 36, 172
Possession, of and by the Divine, 26, 65,
Negative theology, 353 ff. 82, 138, 193, 201, 287, 293 ff, 306 ff,
Neoplatonists, the, 21, 23, 30, 38, 81, 318 ff
84, 128, 286 ff, 322n Possest, or the act, 356 ff.
Nicholas of Gusa, 20, 33, 35, 352-391; Poverty, apostolic and mystical, 116 ff,
his life, 352; literature on, 352 f.; on 174, 211, 220 f.
learned ignorance, 353, 357 ff, Practical life. See Common life.
360 ff; the vision of God, 353,367 ff.; Prayer, 30, 31 ff, 41, 43, 81, 118,
on affirmative and negative theology, 120 ff, 135, 141, 157 ff, 183, 229 f.,
353, 356; copulative theology, 353; 271 f. See Contemplation; Ecstasy;
the cloud, or fog, of coincidence, Rapture; Union
353 ff-» 357J 365; complication or en- Psalter, and the Cluniacs, 42
INDEXES 419
Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite, 17, exemplarism of, 287; on introversion,
21, 23, 33-37, 39, 42, 81, 128, 132, 287 f., 315, 319; flux and reflux, 287;
135x1, 14011, 14111, 174, 249, 32211, common, or practical, life, 287 ff,
328 ff., 329, 352 f., 36511 292, 298; and the ladder, 288; on
Pupil, of the eye of intelligence, 266 divine possession, 287, 293, 295,
Purgation. See Triple way 306 ff., 308 ff, 318; charged with
Purgatory, 395 ff. pantheism, 287; soul's ground, 287,
Purification. See Triple way 289, 308, 319; superessential life and
Pythagoras, 361 love, 289, 304, 307 f.; passivism, 290;
action and contemplation, 290; sacra-
ments, 290; ecstasy and rapture, 290,
Quiddity, or essence, 354 ff., 363 ff. 296; images and imageless nudity,
293 f., 295 ff., 304, 307, 320; abyss
Rabanus Maurus, 42 and desert, 294, 296, 308 ff., 319; a
Rapture, 21, 51, 64, 85, 118, 129, New Name, 296 ff.; Godhead, 309;
140 ff., 145 ff., 175 ff., 196, 210, 212, darkness, 310, 319; heat of love,
248, 263 ff, 377. See Ecstasy; 312 ff, 317; and wilderness, 314
Excessus mentis', Ravishment
Ravishment, 26, 44, 48, 51, 85, 112,
210, 231 f., 235, 237 ff., 241 f., 248, Sacrament, and sacraments, 84 ff, 138,
364, 384. See Excessus mentis', Rapture 203 ff., 266 ff., 290 ff., 326 ff, 338,
Raymond of Capua, 264 358 ff
Reason, and contemplation, 83 ff., Sapientia, 47
97 ff., 266 Savor, spiritual, 239, 240
Regulars, the, 20, 212 Scientia, 47
Religious, the, 175, 198 Seat of the mind, 29
Renunciation, and the contemplative Self-abnegation, 397 ff.
life, 18 ff., 116 ff., 397 ff. See Poverty Self-knowledge, 40, 82 ff, 265, 270,
Repose, or mystic rest, 27, 43, 53, 71, 274 ff.
128 Self-love, 267 ff., 274 ff, 301, 393 ff.
Requies mystica. See Repose Self-will, 322 ff., 336 ff., 340 ff.
Reverberate, and reverberatio, 40 Seraph, six-winged, 138 ff.
Richard of St. Victor, 79 ff, 96-112, Socrates, 361
128, 3ign; his life, 79; literature on, Song, spiritual, 210 f., 212 f., 230,
80; the way to contemplation, 82 f., 234 ff., 242 ff.
96 ff.; types, modes, and degrees of Speculative spirituality, 20, 43, 130 ff,
contemplation, 83—85; reason and 209, 288 ff. See Affective spirituality
imagination, 83 ff., 97 ff, 101; on Stagel, Elsbeth, 245
the affection, 96 f., 98; invisibles and Stages, 127 ff., 289 ff. See Grades;
visibles, 82, noff.; on love, 100 ff.; Ladders
on discretion, 109 f.; on contempla- Stigmata, the, 118, 263, 268
tive union, 110-112; on the soul as Stoics, the, 25
a mirror, 111 Sublevatio mentis, 84 ff.
Rolle, Richard, 20, 96, 208-244; his Summit, 193, 198. See Peak
life, 208; literature on, 208; his Sun's rays, 395 ff., 401 ff, 4O7n
affectivity, 209; his Incendium amoris, Superessential life, and love, 304 ff.
209 ff.; color, canor, and dulcor, 210 ff.; Suso, Henry, 245-262, 288; his life, 245;
rapture in, and from, the senses, literature on, 246; on Gelassenheit,
210 ff., 212 f.; contemplation versus 245, 247, 249n, 251, 258 f., 26on;
action, 209, 213; heat of love, 225, Dame Wisdom, 246; on Bild, or
232, 235, 237, 241-242; on mirth and image, 248, 250, 252; on Grund, 248;
melody, 223, 234-237, 244; on un- Durchbruch, or break-through, 24911;
descried light, 235, 242; on ravish- on the Nothing, 249; Bride and Bride-
ment and ecstasy, 210 ff., 235-238, groom mysticism, 246; on the Wild
241 man, or Savage, 249; abyss, 249,
Romuald, 43 256; on God and the Godhead, 249;
Rust of sin, 395 ff, 399 ff, 401, 409 ff. on rapture and ecstasy, 248, 250,
Ruysbroeck, Jan van, 25, 29, 33, 285- 261; interior fortress, 248; on action
320; his life, 285; literature on, 285; and contemplation, 26 m
420 INDEXES
Sweetness, and mystic ineffability, Verbum sponsus, 52 ff.
68 ff., 72, 105 f., 210 ff., 230 f., 235 f., Vestigia, 132 ff, 139
250 f., 281, 313 ff., 325 f., 332, 372 f., Vices, and virtues, 32 f., 82 ff, 86,
379 ff. 147 ff
Victorines, the, 33, 79 ff, I34n, 285 ff.
Tauler, John, 247 f., 288, 321 Vincent d'Aggsbach, 358
Tears, 40, 43. See Lagrime Virtue, and the virtues, 28, 93, 118 ff,
Theologica Germanica. See German TTieo- 129 ff, 153 ff, 194
logy Vision, mystical or contemplative, 23,
Theophanies, 48 25, 39; from the sixth to the twelfth
Theoria, 24, 33, 34 ff., 47 f. century, 44. See Ecstasy; Rapture;
Thomas Aquinas, 126, 179, 256n, 266 Ravishment; Triple way; Union
Thomas a Becket, 80
Triple way, the, 21 ff, 28, 34 f., 40 f., Wall of coincidence, 357, 376
53 f., 128 ff, 3oon, 336 f., 393 ff Way, Christ as the, 389 ff.
Wenck, John, 356
Ulrich von Manderscheid, 352 Wilderness, the mystical, 183, 188,
Union, 18, 21, 25, 29, 32, 34 ff, 41, 44, 3H ff.
51 f., 144, 148, 173 f., 209, 248, Wild man, or Savage, 249
287 ff, 295 ff, 299 f., 310, 322 ff, William of Champeaux, 79
336, 356, 359> 366 ff, 387 ff See William of Ockham, 2i3n
Contemplation; Ecstasy; Rapture; William of St. Thierry, 47 f., 49
Ravishment; Triple way Wisdom, mystic, 67, 122 ff, 127 f.,
Urban VI, Pope, 263 130 ff, 135
MODERN AUTHORS
Allen, H. E., 208, 210, 211, 2i2n, Bohnenstaedt, E., 353

Ancelet-Hustache, J., 246 Bonnefoy, Fr., I28n,
D'Asbeck, M., 285, 286, 2g6n, 3oon, 14m
3I91* Bonnes, J. P., 44n
Axters, St., 286, 288n Breton, M., i28n, 3
D'Aygalliers, A. W., 286, 28gn Brunschvicz, L., 6on
Buhlmann, J., 246, 4 7 , 4 g , 5
Balfour, C , 399n Butler, D. C , I7n, 18, 22, 27, 28n, 2gn,
Barthelemy, J., 81 3°, 39, 4o, 4m, 50, 53n> 6 4n, i79n
Battles, F. L., 80, gon Buttimer, C. H., 80, 86n
Baudrillart, A., 3in, 393 Biittner, H., 171, I93n, ig8n
Bedoyere, M. De La, 265
Berliere, D. M., 19, 2on, 22, 3m, 38n, Canet, L., 264
39n, 40, 4m, 73n Cappuyns, M., 3in
Bernhart, J., 171, 2oon, 2O5n, 321, Carnandet, J., 143
322n, 323n, 326n, 327n, 329^ 33on, Castel, D. A., 44n
335*, 336n, 345^, 347* Cayre, F., 3 m, 80
Bett, H., 352 Chadwick, O., 3 m
Bihlmeyer, K., 246, 252n, 259n, 26 m Chatillon, J., 81
Bizet, J. A., 2gn, 246, 247n, 249n, Chevallier, Dom Ph., 33n
258n, 286, 288n, 3oon, 3ign Clark, J. M., 171, i76n, 246, 248n,
Blakney, R. B., 171, I72n, i73n, 17411, 49, 5 , 8
i75n, i76n, I77n, i83n, i86n, i&7n, Cohrs, F., 81
i88n, 19 m, iggn, 2oon, 2O3n, 2o6n, Colledge, E., 286, 28gn
7 Combes, A., 286
Boas, G., i32n Comper, F. M. M., 209, 2ion, 21 in,
Boehmer, H., I2on, 12311,
INDEXES 421
Connolly, J. L., 286 Hardman, O., 19
Gorin, A. L., 247n Hastings, J., i8n
Cornelius, R. D., Haureau, B., 80, 143
Hendrikx, E., 30
Heron, Fr. G., 353
Daniels, A., 171, Heseltine, G. G., 209, 21 in,
David, J. B., 286 Hodgson, G., 209
Davy, M. M., 49, 50 Hof, H., 171
Deanesly, M., 209, 2ion, 21 in Hoffman, E., 353
Debongnie, P., 393 Hornstein, X. de, 246
Dechanet, J. M., 49 Horstman, C , g6n, 208, 2ion
ri,R.J.,86n
Deferrari, Hiigel, B. F. von, 393, 394n, 4oon,
Deman, Th., 264, 40 m, 404^ 405^ 4o6n
Denifle, H. S., 246 Hurtaud, R. P. J., 264
De Vreese, W., 285 Hyma, A., 286
Diedrichs, E., 171
Dobbins, D., I28n, I3on Inge, W. R., 17, 18, 21, 27n
Donaldson, D. M., i73n Irvine, H. D.,
Domes, H., 42n
Drane, A. T., 264 James, B. S., 49, 6on
Dumeige, G., 80, 81, 85n, H2n James, Father, I32n
Jepson, J. J., 28n
Eales, S. J., 50, 6on, 66n, 74n Jones, R., 18, 22, 208, 21 in
Ebner, J., 81, 83n, iO2n, iO9n, n o n , Jorgensen, J., 264, 27m
ii2n Jostes, F., 171
Emery, R. W., I28n
d'fitaples, J. L., 353 Kallen, G., 353, 3 4
Evans, C. de B., 171, i73n, I74n, i86n, Karrer, O., n 8 n , I2on, 12in, I22n,
i23n, i24n, i25n, 171,
Keicher, P. O., 143
Fawtier, R., 264 Klibansky, R., 353
Koch, J., 169, 353, 368n, 385^
Finale, P. V. da (Finalmarina), 393
Fiorilli, M., 264 Landsberg, P. L., i26n, i33n. 13411
Freeman, D. A., 38sn Laurent, H., 264
Fritz, G., 81
Lavaud, R. P. B., 246, 248n
Leclercq, J., 20, 43n, 44n, 49, 50,
Gabele, A., 246 Lemmens, P., H7n
Gandillac, M. de, 2in, 33n, 3 4 , 3 5 , Linhardt, R., 50
171, i72n, i74n, I75n, i76n, 246, Littr<§, M. P. E., 143
248n, 249n, 25on, 353, 368n Longpre*, E., 143
Gardner, E. G., g6n, 264, 27m Lossky, V., 33n, 36
Garrigou-Lagrange, R., 264, 266n Lund, I., 264
Gaudermaris, Dom A. de, 3gn Luther, M., 321
Gautier, L., H3n
Genova, U. da, 393 Mabillon, Dom J., 66n
Ghellinck,J. de, 80, 81 Mackenna, S., 27n
Gigli, G., 264, 265^ 27on, 27m Mandel, H., 321
Gillet, Dom R., 39, 40 Marechal, J., 18, 19, 21, 30, 33n
Gilson, E., 27n, 3on, 33n, 42n, 50, 5 m, McDonnell, E. W., 249n
52n, 80, i26n, i2gn, i32n, 171, McLaughlin, M. M., 36on
i73n, i74n Melleray, Priest of, 50, 66n, 74n
Glunz, H. H., 44n Mennessier, I., i79n
Golubovich, P., 143 Migne, J. P. (MPL), 33n, 39n, 4on,
Gorce, D., 44n 4 m , 74n, 82n, 83n, 84n, 85n, 86n,
Grabmann, M., 80 gon, 93n, 94n, 966
Gratien, P., ii7n, H9n Misciatelli, P., 264
Grion, A., 264, 27 m Misyn, R., 209
Guigues, L-P., 264, 28 m Moll, F. D., 143
422 INDEXES
Moulinier, L., 353 Smalley, B., 44n, 80, 81
Miiller, K., 9411 Smith, L. L. Y., 94n
Mundy, J. H., 12811 Smith, M., 18, 2in, 23, 27n
Murray, J., 17311 Sollier,J. B., 143
Spicq, C, 80, 81
Nelson, B. W., i28n Squadrani, P. I., I26n, i28n, i32n,
I33n, i34n, 14m
Oediger, F. W., 247n Standaert, M., 49
Ottaviano, C , 143 Stelzenberger, J., 286
Outler, A. C, 27n Strange, J., 246
Suelzer, Sister Mary Josephine, 38n
Surius, L., 286, 2g6n
Peers, A. E., 143, i44n, I49n,
i6on, 16m Taurisano, I., 264
Pegis, A. C, 56 Taylor, F. S., 286
Pepwell, H., g6n Taylor, H. O., 80, gon, g2n,
Perry, G. G., 2ion Thery, G., 34n, 171,
Petrus, H., 353 Theseider, E. D., 264
Petry, R. C , 22n, 66n, 74n, 1 i7n, 1 i8n, Thorold, A., 264, 27on
143, 15m, i56n, i76n, 2O3n, 2ion, Tommaseo, N., 264, 6s
243n, 247n, 28gn, 8 Trask, W. R., 321, 323^ 327n,
Petzelt, A., 353, 3 6 347n
Pfeiffer, F., 171, Tulloch, W.J., 81
i76n, i77n, i86n, 193^ igSn, iggn,
2oon, 2O7n, 321, 33on
Phillips, D., i28n Uhl, W., 321, 3 4
Pomerius, H., 38n, 286 Ullathorne, W. B., 29
Poukens, J. B., 286 Underhill, E., 18, 21, 29, 209, 210,
Poulain, A., g4n 2i4n, 286, 289n, 29on, 292n, 2g6n,
Pourrat, P., 20, 22, 28n, 49, 5in, 6on, 353
73n, 80, 393
Probst, J. H., 143, I44n, I45n, I46n, Vacandard, E., 49, 5m
i64n, i66n Valentin, R. P. (-Breton, M.). See
Breton, M.
Quint, J., 171, i72n, 173^ Valli, F., 264
Valous, G. de, 42n
Vansteenberghe, E., 352, 353, 354,
Reypens, L., 16, 286, 287n, 288n 358n, 365n
Riedler, K. F., 2in, 321, 322n, 325n, Vernet, F., 19, n8n
37, 3g, 6 Viller, M., i6n, 393
Rinn, H., 321 Volpe, G. Delia, 171
Robilliard, J. A., 81,
Rolt, G. E., 3 3 n Wadding, L., 143
Roques, R., 33n, 37n Weiss, K., 171
Ross, J. B., 36on Wellens, E., 49
Rotta, P., 353, 36on Wellner, F., ii3n
Wentzlaff-Eggebert, F. W., 171, 246,
Sabatier, P., ii7n 32i, 353
Salter, E. G., 353, Wiegand, F., I2on, I23n, I24n, I25n
Salzinger, Y., 143 Williams, W. W., 49, 53n, 54n, 57n,
Saudreau, A., 21 59n, 63n, 64n, 65a
Scharpff, F. U., 358n Wilmart, A., 43n, 4411
Schmitt, T. S., 44n Wilpert, P., 353
Schmitz, P., 3m, 38n, 3gn, 40, 4m, Winkworth, S., 321, 327n
42n, 43n, 49 Wolff, P., 80, 81, 82n, 83n, 86n, gon,
Schroeder, H. J., 15m 94n, g6n, U2n, U3n
Scudder, V. D., 264 Wrangham, D. S., H3n
Sertorius, L., 393, 4oon, Wydenbruck, N., i2on
Sharpe, A. B., 18, Wynschenk, Dom G. A., 286, 2g2n
INDEXES 423
BIBLICAL REFERENCES
Genesis Psalms—continued The Wisdom of Solomon

1:3 133 41:3(42:2) 65 5:21 138
1:4-5 86,88 41:4(42:3) 242 8:2 252
2:16 ff. 341 45:11(46:10) 243 13:5 136
29:32,33 99 48:19(49:18) 63
29:34,35 100 49(50):i5 62 Isaiah
30:6 102 50:19(51:17) 99 6:2 134
30:8,11 103 67:28(68:27) 96, 112 5:20 87
30:13 104 72(73)125,26, 28 58 26:7 59
30:18 105 72(73)126 64,141 3^9 Hi
30:20 107 83:6-7(84:5-6) 132 38:14 64
35:10 3 ( 4 7 ) 3 5135
140 83:8(84:7) 49:i5 56
35^8 5 ( )
112 85(86):n
8(86) 133
87:14(88:3) 53:2,4 257
37:8 103 8:14(88:13)
( 9 5 ) 2 4 0
60 59:8 58
49^4 :16(89:15)
106 88:53(89:52)
( 8 ) 141
49:16 102 91:5(92:4) 138 Jeremiah
49:21 103 93(94):i9 10
° 3:1 78
Exodus iO2(iO3):i,5 59 9:21 228
3:18 133 103(104) :24 138 17:14 215
24:16 134 104(105)4 74 51:9 216
33:20 141 IO6(IO7):I 101
io8(iO9):i8 221 Lamentations
Numbers IIO(III):IO 98 3:19 231
20:17 59 II8(II9):II 233 4:20 68,71
21:22 59 118 119)166 223
118 9 ) 4 107 Matthew
Deuteronomy 118 U9):i76 75,76
6:5 69 128 ) .227 2:2 389
I
38( 1 39) : I 2 242 5:3 59,22O
I Kings 138(139) :2i 107 5:5(4) 99
10:19 134 I43(i44):3 66 5:6
5:8
59
87
Job Proverbs 6:10 64
7:i5 141 12:21 229 6:33 61
9:30-31 234 25:6-7 224 7:i3 59
7:21 35i
Psalms 10:37 72
Ecclesiastes 10:38 345
1:3 223 .216 11:29
4:12 221
**: 59
IO 5:9 ••59 17:1 134
4(5)^4 7 ••57 19:17
4:7(6-7) I" 5:14 35i
i5(!6):2 55 7:1(6:12)... 19:21 220
15(16) :8 216 12:13 19:23, 28 221
17:12(18:11) 242 19:27 7i
22(23^3 231 The Canticle of Canticles 22:37 60
22(23)^ 233 1:2(3) 73 22:37 ff. -. 351
24(25)^5 216 3 () ( 4 ) 5 22:39 61
25(26):i2 112 3:2 76 26:26 387
26(27) 148 65 4:9 85
5:7 85 Mark
32(33):9 67 8:33 70
33:2(34:0 233 5:8 225
8:1 244 12:30 134
34(35)128 227 8:6 69 16:16 70
36(37)^6 59
424 INDEXES
Luke Romans Colossians
i:35 72 5:10 >7 3:2 .223
6:20 59 6:12 234
6:46 351 7 7 76
10:27 351 7:24 64,1066 I Thessalonians
12:31 61 5:21 58
14:27 345 8:32 55
19:22 75 9:28 59
22:19 387 "••33 256 Hebrews
23:43 139 11:35 67 11:3
14:8 239
John I Corinthians
3:16 55
4:42 62 1:3° 72,135 James
6:38 351 2:10 140 1:12 228
6:44 347 9:14-18 56 229
6:53-58 227 9:24 59
6:64(63) 71 i3:!-3 273
8:12 391 13:12 I Peter
9:4 215 15:46 60 1:22... 64
10:1 350 16:22 66
10:1,3 346 I John
12:26 346 II Corinthians 1:8 108
14:6 346 5:16 71,72 2:6.... 231
14:8 141 12:9 141 4:1
14:28 69 4:10... 67
15^3 55,7o Galatians 4:18... 216
16:6 71 2:20 338
16:7 70
17:24 346 Philippians Revelation
Acts 1:23 1:8 134
5:29 70 4-13 257 2:13 218

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Late Medieval Mysticism

John Baillie (1886-1960) served as President of the World

John T. McNeill (1885-1975) was Professor of the History of

Henry P. Van Dusen (1897-1975) was an early and influen-

Late Medieval Mysticism

Paperback reissued 2006 by Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville,

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmit-

Cover design by designpointinc. com

Published by Westminster John Knox Press

This book is printed on acid-free paper that meets the American

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the

The Christian Church possesses in its literature an abundant

VII. RICHARD ROLLE: HERMIT OF HAMPOLE

V I I I . H E N R Y SUSO (c. 1295-1366)

4 Butler, op. cit., p. 4, makes especial use of statements from A. B. Sharpe,

in view as Margaret Smith and Joseph Mar£chal. In the Latin

Oscar Hardman's analysis of the role of asceticism in volun-

AUGUSTINE OF HIPPO (354-430)

22 De quantitate, 79, 80; also 70-75; Butler, op. cit., p. 28.

J O H N CASSIAN (d. 434)

DIONYSIUS THE AREOPAGITE (c. 500)

39 Gandillac, (Euvres, p. 34; Mystical Theology, ch. Ill, ch. I, 3.

BENEDICT TO GREGORY THE GREAT

GREGORY THE GREAT (540-604)

53 See DS II, 1929-33 for the foregoing treatment. On Benedict, consult

ascetic training as inescapable preparation for contemplative

FROM GREGORY TO BERNARD

65 D S I I , 1936-38. O n Alcuin a n d Benedict of A n i a n e , see Schmitz, op. cit.,

t WELFTH CENTURY SPIRITUALITY, THE CONTEM-

Bernard was born at Fontaines near Dijon. He was educated

friend, the Cluniac abbot, Peter the Venerable. He helped

William and Guarric are suggestively analyzed in relation to

There is a sense in which Bernard may be said to have written

affective faculty, an action of free will.19 True love is therefore

22 Cf. Eccl. 5:14.

us in love's way, how generously he returns the love we give,

but God is the strength of my life and my portion forever"?53

Let this sermon take for a beginning the words of a master in

65 p s . 32 (33) :g. 66 Rom. 11135.

70 Deut. 6:5. 7i Cant. 8:6. 72 j o h n 14:28.

By Night on My Bed I Sought Him Whom My Soul Loveth.—

92 Rom. 7:18. 93 p s . n 8 (119) 1176. ** Cant. 3:2.

| H E ABBEY OF ST. V I C T O R , HOME OF THE AUGUS-

Doctrinally in sympathy with Bernard, Hugh fostered in sane

2 Benjamin Minor, caps. 86-87; in MPL 196:61-64.

6 DS II, 1963. 1 i n MPL 196:167 ff.

XII. The Sacrament of the Divine Works

Three are the modes of cognition (visiones) belonging to the

to the perfect, and contemplates the Creator. In The Proverbs,

The Soul: What is that sweet thing that comes sometimes to

these other virtues do, it is without discretion. And therefore, in

Matthew, Mark, and Luke portraying,

Matthew as the man is treated,

Mark, the lion, his voice upraises,