THE SCALE (or LADDER) of PERFECTION

Written by WALTER HILTON

With an Essay on The Spiritual Life of Mediaeval England by the
Rev. J. B. DALGAIRNS, Priest of the Oratory

Moses plus profecit in monte adorando quam
multitude magna bellantium

Scanned and edited by Harry Plantinga, 1995

This etext is in the public domain

Marginal notes in the Benziger Bros. edition have been reproduced
as italicized annotations between paragraphs.

Publishers' Note

OF all the old English ascetical works which were extant before
the Reformation none have maintained their reputation longer than
Walter Hilton's "Scale of Perfection." Hilton was a canon of
Thurgarton in Nottinghamshire, and died in 1395. His "Scale of
Perfection" is found in no less than five MSS. in the British
Museum alone. Wynkyn de Worde printed it at least three times --
in the years 1494, 1519 and 1525. Many other editions were printed
at the same period.

After the Reformation it was a favourite book of Father Augustine
Baker's, the well-known author of "Sancta Sophia," and his
comments on it are among his MSS. at Downside. In 1659 Father
Baker's biographer and editor, Dom Serenus Cressy, O.S.B.,
published an edition of the "Scale," the title-page of which
claims that "by the changing of some antiquated words [it is]
rendered more intelligible." Another edition appeared in 1672, and
yet another in 1679.

Within our own times two editions have been published -- one by
the late Father Ephrem Guy, O.S.B., in 1869, the other, a reprint
of Cressy's, in 1870, with an introduction by Father Dalgairns on
the "Spiritual Life of Mediaeval England." Cressy's text has again
been used in the present edition, and Father Dalgairns's Essay is
also reprinted in this volume.

CONTENTS

An Essay on the Spiritual Life of Mediaeval England

THE FIRST BOOK

PART I

I. That the inward state of the Soul should be like the outward

II. Of the Active Life, and the Exercises and the Works thereof

III. Of the Contemplative Life, and the Exercises and Works
thereof

IV. Of three Sorts that be of Contemplation, and of the First of
them

V. Of the Second Sort of Contemplation

VI. Of the Lower Degree of the Second Sort of Contemplation

VII. Of the Higher Degree of the Second Sort of Contemplation

VIII. Of the Third Sort of Contemplation

IX. Of the Difference that is betwixt the Second and Third Sort of
Contemplation

X. How that Appearings or Shewings to the Corporal Senses or
Feelings may be both good and evil

XI. How thou shalt know whether the Showing or Apparition to the
bodily Senses and Feelings be good or evil

XII. How and in what things a Contemplative Man should be busied

XIII. How virtue beginneth in Reason and Will and is perfected in
Love and Liking, or Affection

XIV. Of the Means that bring a Soul to Contemplation

XV. (i) What a Man should use and refuse by the virtue of Humility

(ii) How Hypocrites and Heretics, for want of Humility, exalt
themselves in their Hearts above others

XVI. Of a firm Faith necessary thereto, and what things we ought
to believe thereby

XVII. Of a firm and resolute Intent and Purpose necessary thereto

XVIII. A brief Rehearsal of what hath been said, and of an
Offering made of them altogether to Jesus

PART II

I. (i) Of Prayer, and the several Sorts thereof

(ii) How they should do that are troubled with vain Thoughts in
their Prayers

II.(i) Of Meditation

(ii) Of divers Temptations of the Enemy, and the Remedies against
them

III.That a Man should know the measure of his Gift, that he may
desire and take a better when God giveth it

PART III

I. Of the Knowledge of a Man's Soul, and the Powers thereof
necessary to Contemplation

II. Of the Worthiness and Excellency of the Soul and how it was
lost

III.(i) That a Man should be industrious to recover again his
ancient Dignity, and reform within him the Image of the Trinity,
and how it may be done

(ii) That this Dignity and Image is restored by Jesus, and how He
is to be desired, sought and found

IV. (i) Of the Ground and Image of sin in us, which is first to be
found out and laboured against, and how it is to be done

(ii) What the said Image of sin is, properly, and what cometh out
of it

V.(i) Of the Seven Deadly sins, and first of Pride, what it is,
and when it is a deadly sin and when but venial

(ii) How Pride in Heretics and in Hypocrites is deadly sin

(iii) A short Exhortation to Humility and Charity, with a
Conclusion how a Man may know how much Pride he hath in him

VI.(i) Of Envy and Wrath and their Branches, and how, instead of
sin, the Person is often hated

(ii) That it is a Mastery and noble Skill to love Men's Persons,
and yet wisely to hate their sins, and how

(iii) How a Man shall know how much Wrath and Envy is hid in the
ground of his Heart, and how he may know whether he loves his
Enemies, and the Examples we have thereof in our Saviour

VII. Of Covetousness, and how a Man may know how much of it is hid
in his Heart

VIII.(i) Of Gluttony, and how a Man shall know when he sinneth not
in Eating and Drinking, and when he sinneth venially, and when
deadly

(ii) That a Man should be busy to put away and hinder all Motions
of Sin, but more busy about those of Spiritual sins than those of
Bodily

(iii) What Remedy a Man should use against the Faults in Eating
and Drinking

IX.Of the Five Windows of this dark Image, and what cometh in by
them, and how they are to be ordered

X.Of another Hole or Window that is to be stopped as well as the
Windows of the Senses, viz., the Imagination

XI.A Brief Rehearsal of what hath been said in the former
Chapters, with a Portraiture of this dark Image of sin

XII. A comparing of this Image with the Image of Jesus, and how it
is to be dealt with

XIII.How a Man shall be shapen to the Image of Jesus, and Jesus
shapen in him

XIV. The Conclusion of this Book, and of the Cause why it was
made, and how she for whom it was made was to make use of it

THE SECOND BOOK

PART I

I. (i) That a Man is the Image of God after the Soul and not after
the Body; and how he is restored and reformed thereto that was
misshapen by sin

(ii) That Jews and Pagans and also false Christians are not
reformed effectually through the virtue of the Passion through
their own Faults

II.Of two Manners of Reforming of this Image, one in fulness,
another in part

III. That Reforming in part is in two manners, one in Faith,
another in Feeling

IV. That through the Sacrament of Baptism (which is grounded in
the Passion of Christ) this Image is reformed from Original sin

V. That through the Sacrament of Penance (that consisteth in
Contrition, Confession and Satisfaction) this Image is reformed
from Actual sin

VI.That we are to believe stedfastly the reforming of this Image,
if our Conscience witness to us a full forsaking of sin, and a
true turning of our Will to good living

VII.That all the Souls that live humbly in the Faith of Holy
Church, and have their Faith enlivened with Love and Charity, be
reformed by this Sacrament, though it be so that they cannot feel
the special gift of Devotion or of spiritual feeling

VIII. That Souls reformed need ever to fight and strive against
the Motions of sin while they live here. And how a Soul may know
when she assenteth to these Motions, and when not

IX. That this Image is both fair and foul whilst it is in this
Life here, though it be reformed; and of the Differences of the
secret Feelings of those that be reformed and those that be not

X.Of three sorts of Men, whereof some be not reformed, and some be
reformed only in Faith, and some both in Faith and Feeling

XI.How Men that abide and live in sin, misshape themselves into
the likeness of divers Beasts, and they be called the Lovers of
the World

XII.(i) How Lovers of this World in divers ways disenable
themselves from becoming reformed in their Souls

(ii) A little Counsel how Lovers of this World should do, if they
will be reformed in their Souls before their departure hence

PART II

Of Reforming in Faith and Feeling also

I.That this Reforming cannot be suddenly gotten, but in length of
Time, by Grace, and much Spiritual and Corporal Industry

II.(i) The Causes why so few Souls in comparison of the Multitude
of others come to this Reforming that is both in Faith and Feeling

(ii) How that without great Corporal and Spiritual Industry, and
without much Grace and Humility, Souls cannot come to reforming in
Feeling nor keep themselves therein after they come thereto

III.An Entry or good Beginning of a Spiritual Journey, showing how
a Soul should behave herself in intending and working that will
come to this Reforming, by example of a Pilgrim going to Jerusalem

IV.Of certain Temptations and Lettings which Souls feel from their
Spiritual Enemies, in their Spiritual knowing and going towards
Jerusalem, and the Remedies against them

V.Of an evil Day and a good Night, and what they mean, and how the
Love of the World is likened to an evil Day, and the love of God
to a good Night

VI.How that the Desire of Jesus felt in this lightsome Darkness
slayeth all Motions of sin, and enableth the Soul to perceive
spiritual Lightnings from the heavenly Jerusalem, that is, Jesus

VII. How a Man shall know false Illuminations, that are feigned by
the Enemy, from the true Light of knowing that cometh out of
Jesus, and by what tokens

VIII. How great profit it is to the Soul to be brought through
Grace into lightsome Darkness, and how a Man shall dispose himself
if he will come thereto

IX. That the Working of our Lord Jesus in the Reforming of a Soul,
is divided into four times, which are: Calling, Justifying,
Magnifying and Glorifying

X. How it falleth out sometimes that Souls that are but beginning
or profiting in Grace seem to have more Love, as to outward tokens
thereof, than some have that be perfect, and yet it is not really
so in their Interior

XI. After what manner a Man shall come to know his own Soul, and
how a Man should set his Love in Jesus, God and Man in one Person

PART III

I. In what Sense this Manner of Speaking of Reforming of a Soul in
Feeling is to be understood, and in what Manner it is reformed,
and how it is found in St Paul's Writings

II. How God openeth the inward Eye of the Soul to see Him, not all
at once, but by divers times, and of three Manners of reforming of
a Soul explained by a familiar Example

III. How Jesus is Heaven to the Soul, and why He is called Fire

IV. Of two manner of Loves, created and uncreated, and how we are
bound to love Jesus much for our Creation; but more for our
Redemption, and most of all for our Salvation, through the gifts
of His Love

V. How that some Souls love Jesus by bodily Fervours, and by their
own human Affections that are moved by Grace and by Reason. And
how some love Him more quietly by spiritual Affections only moved
inwardly through spiritual Grace of the Holy Ghost

VI. That the Gift of Love, amongst all other Gifts of Jesus, is
most worthy and most profitable. And how Jesus doth all that is
well done in His lovers, only for Love. And how Love maketh the
exercise of all Virtues and all good Deeds light and easy

VII. How Love through gracious Beholding of Jesus slayeth all
stirrings of Pride; and maketh the Soul to lose the savour and
delight in all earthly Honours

VIII. How Love slayeth all stirrings of Wrath and Envy easily; and
reformeth in the Soul the Virtues of Peace and Patience, and of
perfect Charity to his Neighbour, as He did specially in the
Apostles

IX.Love slayeth Covetousness, Lechery and Gluttony, and the
fleshly delight and savour in all the five Bodily Senses, softly
and easily, through a gracious beholding of Jesus

X. What Virtues and Graces a Soul receiveth through opening of the
inner eye into the gracious beholding of Jesus, and how it cannot
be gotten only by man's labour, but through special grace and his
own labour also

XI. How such special Grace for the Beholding of our Lord Jesus is
withdrawn sometimes from a Soul; and how a Soul is to Behave
herself in the Absence and in the Presence of Jesus, and how a
Soul shall always desire (as much as is in her) the gracious
Presence of Jesus

XII.A Commendation of Prayer offered up to Jesus by a
Contemplative Soul, and how stableness in Prayer is a secure work
to stand in; and how every Feeling of Grace in a chosen Soul may
be called Jesus. But the more clean the Soul is, the more worthy
the Grace is

XIII. How a Soul through the opening of the spiritual Eye
receiveth a gracious Love enabling to understand the Holy
Scriptures; and how Jesus, that is hid in the Holy Scriptures,
showeth Himself to His Lovers

XIV. Of the secret Voice of Jesus sounding in a Soul, and how it
may be known. And how all the gracious Illuminations made in a
Soul be called the Speakings of Jesus

XV. (i) How through gracious Opening of the Spiritual Eye a Soul
is made Wise, humbly and truly to see the Diversities of Degrees
in Holy Church, as Militant, and for to see the nature of Angels;
and first of the Reprobate

(ii) How by the same light of Grace the Nature of the blessed
Angels is seen. And how Jesus is God and Man above all Creatures,
according to that which the Soul may see of Him here

TREATISE WRITTEN TO A DEVOUT MAN

I. That he who intends to become a Spiritual Man must first use
much Bodily Exercise in Penance, and in Destroying of Sin

II. To what kind of Men the Active Life pertaineth

III. To whom the Contemplative Life appertaineth

IV. To whom appertaineth the Mixed Life

V. How holy Bishops held and used the said Mixed Life

VI. What kind of Life was most fitting for him for whom this
Treatise was made

VII. That a Man's Devotion sometimes will be the greater by reason
of the outward Work which before out of Charity he hath been in
hand with

VIII.What the Desire of God for Himself is, and how that in
Cleanness of Conscience is found true Comfort and Sweetness

IX.How thou shalt Dispose thee to Devotion

X.How a Man is to Think on the Humanity of Christ

XI.How a Man shall think on Virtues and upon the Saints

XII.How a Man shall think of the Holiness of our Lord Jesus and of
our Blessed Lady

XIII. Of seeing and beholding the Power (by some consideration or
thinking), the Wisdom the Goodness and the Mercy of God in His
Creatures

XIV.How the Consideration and thinking on the Miseries and Perils
of this Life is apt to breed in a soul the Desire of Heaven

XV. How a Man shall do when he feeleth no taste nor comfort in his
Mental Exercises

XVI. What a Man is to take heed of in his Prayers and Meditations

AN ESSAY on the

Spiritual Life of Mediaeval England

IT is only very gradually that we are obtaining a real knowledge
of the Middle Ages. Hitherto it has been one of those subjects
which no one could approach without getting into a passion. Just
as no one can talk soberly of Mary, Queen of Scots, so it would
appear as if few could keep their tempers in speaking or writing
of the mediaeval time. The fact is that it is only by little that
we can understand a period so very different from our own. A
chaotic time is always a time of great contrasts, when profound
ignorance exists side by side with considerable learning in
individual instances, when heresies are wild and monstrous, while
faith is touchingly simple and devoted. The real difficulty is to
estimate the condition of the masses. It requires a patient spirit
of research into minute details and dry statistics, united with a
reverential admiration, a sifting criticism as well as a devout
imagination, to avoid overweighing isolated instances and
attaching undue importance to outstanding and striking features. I
am not going to enter upon this dangerous ground. My only anxiety
is to protest against what I cannot but consider a great error,
both historically and ecclesiastically, the assumption that the
Middle Ages are the model time of Christianity. It matters little
what a man thinks about mediaeval architecture, vestments and
embroidery, but it does matter a good deal what principles a man
holds as to what may be called the philosophy of Church History.
If he conceives the grand story of God's Church as though it were
a pyramid, the apex of which is formed by the Middle Ages, while
modern Christendom is on the downward side, then his whole view of
Christianity is wrong. The Church never grows old, and it has
advantages in the nineteenth century which it had not in the
thirteenth. What, however, strikes a student of history most
forcibly is that the more minutely we know the ages which are
past, the more we learn the oneness of the spirit amidst all
outward differences of form. We are every day obtaining more
knowledge about the Middle Ages. Much has come to light since,
thirty years ago, I wrote some "Lives of English Mediaeval Saints"
at Littlemore, and, little as I have been able to follow the
progress of history since then, I have seen enough to acknowledge
that recent publications have brought with them the conviction
that there was far more interior and mystical life amongst our
ancestors than appeared at first sight.

Very much has been done for us by such learned bodies as the Early
English Text Society, and by such men as Pfeiffer in Germany and
Lecoy de la Marche in France. Now we not only possess sermons like
those of St Bernard addressed to monks in the cloister, but we
have the identical vernacular sermon which roused to passionate
grief the mediaeval sinner, and drew tears of sweet devotion from
the eyes of the citizens of Cologne, Paris and London, or the
peasants of country parishes in the Black Forest or the Weald of
Kent. We have the English prayers which were said before the
Rosary was invented, and the devotions which touched the hearts of
men and women living in the midst of that world which seems so
strange and so far off to us. I must confess that without any
depreciation of our grand old Cathedrals, "The Wooing of our Lord"
and "The Ancren Riwle" have more charms for me than a thousand
painted windows. I know the thoughts which flowed from hearts
which have long since ceased to beat, and I can understand, as I
never did before, the grim old warriors and their wives who look
so unearthly side by side upon their tombs. One touch of grace
makes me feel akin to them.

The perusal of this literature has, however, far more than a
sentimental interest. It has now become simply ludicrous to look
upon the devotional ideas of the Middle Ages as made up of
indulgences and gifts to monasteries. These, of course, had their
right place, as they have now; but, if ever it was doubtful, no
one now can doubt that the mediaeval sinner knew quite as well as
the gentleman of the nineteenth century that if he offended God
and did not resolve never to offend Him again, he would infallibly
be lost, though he left all his lands to the neighbouring convent.
Priests might sing Requiems, and nuns might recite their Office,
but nought could avail the impenitent before the judgement seat of
Christ. If any man doubt it, let him read a sermon preached by
Berthold of Regensburg, somewhere near Toggenburg or Sargans, not
far from where the railway now skirts the lovely lake of Wallen.
The barefooted Franciscan introduces, in his dramatic way, a man
who had kept possession of ill-gotten gains rising up in the midst
of the congregation, and saying: "Ho! Brother Berthold, I have
done good to the brotherhood, and I make my confession every year;
I have often entertained you at my house; I am in the
confraternity, and have besought your prayers, that when I am dead
you may watch over my body with song and lections." "Thou hast
done well," is the Brother's answer, "and as soon as thou art dead
we will sing for thee, and read long vigils, and chant beautiful
Masses for thy soul, and loud Requiems, and bring thee in
procession from thy parish church into our minster, and lay thee
before the altar. But, I tell thee, if thou hast not restored what
thou hast robbed, then, if all the tears and the raindrops which
were ever shed or rained since the world began were turned into
monks and brothers, grey monks and black, Preachers and Minorites
-- yea, into patriarchs and prophets, martyrs and confessors,
widows and virgins, and if they were to read and to sing and weep
tears of blood before God for thee to the day of judgement, they
would do thee no more good than if they did all this for the foul
fiend." Such was mediaeval doctrine in the year 1256. Moreover, it
results from many hitherto unknown documents, that there was much
more of what we should now call spirituality everywhere in the
Middle Ages than even Catholics were disposed to think. It is even
plain that nations were not reduced to one uniform standard. There
was, for instance, a type of devotion which was peculiarly
English, and the object of the present essay is to point this out.
Of course, I can only treat the subject cursorily, for want of
space, and I will confine myself to one portion of mediaeval life
intimately connected with the book which is here presented to the
reader.

Very little is known of Walter Hilton, the author of the "Scale or
Ladder of Perfection." It is very likely that more might be known
if any one took the trouble to search the manuscripts of the
British Museum. Something perhaps also might be done towards
amending the text of this book if the edition of 1659, of which
this is a reprint, were compared with the old black letter of
Wynkyn de Worde. The present edition,1 however, has solely a
spiritual, not a critical object, and, therefore, I confine myself
to the little which lies on the surface of history about this
mystical writer, without inquiring further. Fortunately, Father
Guy has lately, in his excellent edition of "The Scale of
Perfection," thrown light on the life of Walter Hilton, by proving
that he did not belong to the Carthusian Order, but was a Canon of
Thurgarton, in Nottinghamshire. Tanner had already published an
extract from a manuscript, which gave 1395 as the year of his
death. No one, however, had as yet perceived that this fact
disproves the ordinary account of his having been a member of
Henry VI's Carthusian monastery at Sheen, since that house was not
founded till several years later. It might still be argued that he
belonged to some other house of the Order. As, however, there is
no authority for his having been a Carthusian except the erroneous
account of his having belonged to Sheen, and as the passage quoted
by Tanner distinctly affirms him to have died at Thurgarton,
Father Guy seems to me to have sufficiently proved his point. It
is not hard to see how the mistake arose. Walter Hilton had
evidently a great devotion to the Carthusian Order, and there is
still extant in manuscript a panegyric of it, addressed to Adam
Horsley, an officer of the King's Exchequer, who by his advice
became a disciple of St Bruno.2 On the other hand, we shall
presently see abundant proof that the devotion of the Carthusians
to Walter Hilton was no less great. There was something in the
"Scale of Perfection" which attracted the monks whom the Christian
instincts of Henry VI planted in the neighbourhood of his palace
of Richmond, as well as their brethren of the Charterhouse, who
kept up a witness for God in the heart of London.

There is, however, an especial reason why the book should have
found its way to Sheen. We know from Dugdale that a benefactor of
the monastery had assigned out of the manors of Lewisham and
Greenwich twenty marks a year for the maintenance of an anchoret,
whose cell was in its precincts. Thus there dwelt in the midst of
the Carthusians one of those recluses to whose instruction the
book is dedicated, and a description of whom will form a
considerable part of this essay.

Now it is not a little strange that a large portion of English
vernacular literature has direct reference to this form of the
solitary life. We possess, besides Hilton's "Scale of Perfection,"
two other most remarkable books, addressed to or written by
anchoresses. They will serve as specimens of the spiritual life of
our ancestors at several very striking periods.

It is very remarkable that the most startling form of the life of
the desert saints should have continued in England up to the very
moment of the Reformation. The Anchorets or Anchoresses (for there
were solitaries of both sexes) were more lonely than hermits in
the sense that they were far more of recluses. The hermit lived,
it is true, in an out of the way place, in a forest, or in one of
those many uncultivated spots of which an English common or down
are the sole relics, but which were easily to be found in a
country not yet entirely cultivated; while the anchorets were
commonly attached to a church, and were thus not far from their
fellowmen. They were, however, immured within the four walls of
their habitation, while the hermit was a free denizen of the
woods. As we know from St Godric, he might have his garden and his
cow. The anchorets, on the contrary, were strictly confined to
their cells. They were the descendants of solitaries like St Thais
and those other recluses of whom we read in the annals of the Nile
desert, who were strictly shut up in their hut and only held
conversation with others through a window, which also served as a
passage for their food. This sort of life, then, was by no means
peculiar to the Oriental contemplative who fled from the old worn-
out world of a decrepit civilization. The same taste for solitude
in its most extreme form was a part of the young and vigorous life
of those Teutonic nations whom Christianity converted after the
Roman and Hellenic culture had disappeared. While the blood of the
old Vikings was still fresh in their veins, men and women left the
brilliant and varied world of the Middle Ages, which was still
full of life and movement, to shut themselves in a cell, with no
prospect but the black yews and crosses of the church-yard. This
was a solitude far deeper than that of the great monasteries, each
of which was a little world. It is evident that these recluses
were by no means rare. There is many a foundation on record for
the perpetual entertainment of a recluse.3 Several Pontificals
contain a regular office for these enclosures. Very often the
anchoret was a chaplain attached to a church, who said Mass in his
cell. The anchoress was more commonly near a church, into which
she could look through a window, and thus take part in its holy
ceremonies. Incidental mention is often made of such recluses in
the troubled history of the times. Two anchorets were burned in
the church at Mantes, when William the Conqueror set fire to the
town. Richard II, before setting out on his dangerous encounter
with Wat Tyler, went to confession to the anchoret in Westminster
Abbey. It is probable that these holy men were often spiritual
directors, while, as we shall presently see, many souls in sorrow
and trouble, came to the window of the maiden anchoress for advice
and consolation. It is true that from their very position the
recluses were exposed to great temptations. Sometimes hypocrites
were to be found among them, as is known from the life of St
Stephen of Obazine, where we hear of a pretended anchoret who
decamped with sums of money entrusted to him. The life is more
intelligible in the case of a priest who had the adorable
Sacrifice to offer up, confessions to hear, and Office to recite;
but what would be the occupation of the hearts and brains of many
an English maiden during the long days and nights which she thus
spent in the narrow circle of the four walls which thus encaged
her? What spells did she use to cool the restless fever in her
veins? This is revealed to us by those treatises which we are now
to consider.

The first is the "Ancren Riwle," a book for anchoresses, first
published by the Camden Society. The authorship of this remarkable
book is very uncertain, or rather it is unknown. There is not a
vestige of evidence to connect it with St Richard of Chichester,
to whom it has been ascribed. On the faith of a manuscript, it has
been assigned to Simon of Ghent Bishop of Salisbury, and supposed
to have been written by him for some sisters living at Tarant in
Dorsetshire. It has also been contended that Richard Poore, Bishop
of the same See, was its author. The only thing that is certain is
that it was written by a Dominican, for the list of prayers which
the writer enumerates as having been in use among the lay brothers
of his Order, are nearly identical with those ordered in the Rule
of St Dominic.4 As the Black Friars did not come to England till
1221, the book could not have been originally written for the
sisters at Tarant, who before that date are known to have been
Cistercian and not recluses; nor can one of the above-named
prelates be its author, for they never belonged to the Order.
Whoever was its author, it is evident that it must have been
written before French had penetrated to any great extent into the
English tongue. A few such expressions as Deulefet (Dieu le fait)
and "sot" (foolish), show the presence of the Norman; and "annui"
proves how early an importation from France was weariness of
spirit in England. But the newness of words of French origin
proves how little two centuries of Norman rule had succeeded in
Romanizing the old language of the Saxon. Though the recluses to
whom the book is addressed evidently could read French, yet the
whole language and tone of thought is essentially English. The
anchoresses, then, were English girls, in the thirteenth century.
Their very names are unknown, though at that time, probably in the
reign of our Henry III, their renunciation of the world was much
spoken of among our ancestors. "Much word is of you, how gentle
women ye be, for godliness and for nobleness yearned after by
many, sisters of one father and one mother, in the blossom of your
youth having forsaken all the world's blisses, and become
anchoresses." A rich neighbour sent them all necessaries "from his
hall." They had maidens to wait upon them, and to provide all that
they wanted from without. They themselves, however, never stepped
beyond the threshold of their hermitage. One window looked into
the church, and from thence they assisted at the holy Sacrifice of
the Mass. At another window, answering to the grill of an enclosed
convent, they gave audience to visitors; but from the moment of
their seclusion they never left their house, till they were
carried out for burial.

What could be the meaning of this apparition in the bustling times
of the thirteenth century. Though society was gradually settling
down, yet it was a restless age. Men did not travel for pleasure,
nor were there yearly migrations to the seaside; yet there was
still a good deal of wandering. The great migrations of nations
were over long before, and the majority of the agricultural
population was still practically tied to the soil; yet crusades
and pilgrimages often drew men to the far East and across the
Alps. The scholar wandered from university to university for
knowledge; the merchant was not tied to his desk, but travelled
from fair to fair with all his precious wares; the minstrel
disseminated news, and sung his ballads. There was a world then,
with pomps and vanities, as there is now; a gay, parti-coloured,
motley world, at which the Church frowned and preached. The
eternal war between God and the world was going on. It is quite
true there was less of the chronic excitement which is now wearing
the strength of souls with its wasting fever. Pleasures were
intermittent, and life more even.5 Balls were few, and generally
took place in the daytime; public tournaments were few and far
between. Yet society was still heaving with conflicting elements.
Archbishops were often in exile, Emperors were under the ban of
the Church; the Pope himself oftener in Viterbo than in Rome.
English barons were harassing their king with Oxford Provisions;
Simon de Montfort was devising a real English Parliament where the
middle classes were represented. All the while these maidens of
the period were praying to God day and night.

This is the secret of their life. Wherever men believe in prayer,
you are sure to have the monastic life in some shape or other. If
they have none, they will soon cease to believe in prayer, as is
fast becoming the case in all Protestant countries. Wherever the
Christian idea is strong, men who are by their position
necessarily involved in the strife of the world will be glad to
know that men and women who are separated from its turmoils and
its sins are offering prayers to God for them.

It is plain that such was the occupation, and such the idea of the
anchoress. It is also true that they did a great deal more than
pray. The very dangers against which the author of her rule warns
her are a proof that all had many visitors. He warns her against
becoming a "babbling" or "gossiping anchoress," a variety of the
species evidently drawn from the life; a recluse whose cell was
the depository of all the news of the neighbourhood at a time when
newspapers did not exist. Her habitation is not to be the
storehouse where the neighbours placed objects of value, that they
might be safe from the robber's hand. All this proves that the
good anchoress had means of exercising charity towards her fellow
creatures. Many a sorrowing soul came to the window, and received
balm for her wounded spirit from behind the black curtain and the
white cross which hung there. Through her servants she might even
practise hospitality to those who wanted it, and they might act as
schoolmistresses to little girls who otherwise would frequent
schools where boys were taught. All this is quite true, yet it is
plain that the chief business of the anchoress was prayer.

It is very difficult for men living in the modern world to
understand a life of prayer; yet they must accept it as a real
fact. Thousands of Christians have lived such a life without
becoming either praying machines like the Buddhists or fakirs like
the Brahmins. The principle of Christian asceticism is as far
apart from Manicheism as possible. It is simply the principle of
expiatory suffering and prayer involved in the very idea of the
sacrifice of Christ. The gulf which separates the anchoress from
the fanatic is the love of Jesus. Of course this is nothing new to
Catholics. Yet I think that even Catholics are not aware to what
extent this is true of mediaeval devotion, and above all of
England. Looking at the England of to-day it is very difficult to
realize the fact that, whilst such a feeling towards our Lord is
the very foundation of all Christian devotion, there is
undoubtedly a kind of tender, pathetic love which is to be found
in old English writers, and which is peculiarly their own. If I
were asked to select the grace which is prominent in their
writings, I should say that it was piety in the sense in which the
word is applied to the gift of the Holy Ghost. The literature
which is now before us is an excellent specimen of this spirit,
because of the great interior freedom which was allowed to
anchorets. They were less liturgical, and had fewer regulations
than the religious Orders. "In this wise," says the Rule, "answer
to him that asketh you of your Order, and whether it is white or
black; say that ye are both, through the grace of God, of St
James's order, about which he wrote, Immaculatum se custodire ab
hoc saeculo, that is, as I said before, 'From the world to keep
himself clean and unstained.' Herein is religion, and not in the
white hood nor in the black, nor in the white nor in the grey
cowl. Thus it is in a convent; but wherever woman liveth or man
liveth by himself alone, eremite or anchoret, on outward things
whereof no scandal cometh, he need lay little stress."6 The
anchoress had no peculiar habit, and her office was, as has been
said, not that of the choir, but that of the lay brothers. She is
encouraged to say English prayers.7 At midday she made a
meditation on the crucifix. Holy meditations are especially
recommended to her.8 Though, according to the practice of the
Church at the time, she made only fifteen Communions a year, yet
there is a marked devotion to the Blessed Sacrament throughout the
treatise. Its perpetual presence in the church is held out as a
refuge against temptation, and it is plain that from the window
which looked into the church, the anchoress often knelt in prayer,
with her eyes fixed upon the altar where Jesus lay in the
Sacrament of His love. Let me give a few specimens of these
meditations of the thirteenth century. These then were the
veritable thoughts which went through the hearts of English
anchoresses as they knelt before the crucifix five hundred years
ago:

"Jesus; true God! God's Son! Jesus, true God, true Man! Man,
maiden-born! Jesus, my holy love, my own sweetness! Jesus, mine
heart, my joy, my soul's health! Jesus, sweet! Jesus, my love, my
light, my healing oil, my honey-drop! Thou all that I hope in!
Jesus, my weal, my winsomeness, blithe bliss of my breast! Jesus,
teach me that Thou art so soft, and so sweet, yet, too, so lovely
and so lovesome that the Angels ever behold Thee, and yet are
never full of looking on Thee! Jesus, all fair, before whom the
sun is but a shadow, for she loseth her light and becometh ashamed
of her darkness before Thy bright face. Thou that givest her
light, and whose is all that brightness, enlighten my dark heart.
Give brightness to Thy bower, even my soul that is sooty. Make her
worthy to be Thy sweet abode. Kindle me with the blaze of Thy
enlightening love. Let me be Thy bride, and learn me to love Thee,
the loving Lord! Wo that I am so strange with Thee; but as Thou
hast bodily separated me from the world, separate me eke in heart;
turn me altogether to Thee, with true love and belief."9

In another place, after a beautiful and minute description of the
crucifixion, and how the "hellbairns" betrayed and crucified Him,
she breaks out: "Ah! Jesus, my life's love, what heart is there
that will not break when he thinketh hereof; how Thou, that art
the Saviour of mankind, and the remedy for all bales, didst thole
such shame for the honour of mankind. Men speak oft of wonders and
of strange things divers and manifold that have befallen, but this
was the greatest wonder that ever befell upon earth. Yea, wonder
above wonders that that renowned Kaiser, crowned in Heaven, maker
of all that is made, to honour His foes would hang between two
thieves. Ah, how can I live for ruth that see my darling on the
rood, and His limbs so drawn that I may tell each bone in His
body! Ah, how do they now drive the iron nails through Thy fair
hands into the hard rood and through Thy noble feet! Ah, now from
those hands and feet so lovely streams the blood so ruefully! Ah,
now they offer to my love, who says He thirsts, two evil drinks in
His blood-letting, vinegar, sourest of all drinks, mingled with
gall, that is the bitterest of all things! Ah, now, sweet Jesus,
yet besides all Thy woe, to eke it out with shame and mockery,
they laugh Thee to scorn when Thou hangest on the rood! Ah that
lovely body that hangs so ruefully, so bloody, and so cold! Ah,
how shall I live, for now dies my love for me on the dear rood,
hangs down His head, and sends forth His soul? But it seems to
them that He is not yet fully tormented, nor will they let the
pitiful body rest in peace. They bring forth Longinus with the
broad sharp spear. He pierces His side, cleaves the heart, and
there come flowing out of that wide wound the Blood that bought
us, the water that washes the world of guilt and sin. Ah, sweet
Jesus, Thou openest for me Thy heart, that I may know Thee truly,
for there I may openly see how much Thou lovedst me. With wrong
should I refuse Thee my heart, since Thou hast bought heart for
heart. Jesus, sweet Jesus, thus Thou foughtest for me against my
soul's foes. Thou didst settle the contest for me with Thy body,
and hast made of me, a wretch, Thy beloved and Thy spouse. Brought
Thou hast me from the world to Thy bower. I may there so sweetly
kiss Thee, and embrace Thee, and of Thy love have ghostly liking.
What may I suffer for Thee for all that Thou didst thole (endure)
for me? But it is well for me that Thou be easy to satisfy. A
wretched body and a weak I bear upon earth, and that, such as it
is, I have given Thee and will give Thee to Thy service. Let my
body hang with Thy body nailed on the rood, and enclosed within
four walls, and hang I Will with Thee, and never more leave my
cross till that I die."

These extracts suffice to give us an insight into the inner life
of the anchoresses of the thirteenth century. They were supported
in their long imprisonment by the love of our Lord. Their thoughts
were fed by the image of Jesus. This is expressed in
characteristic words: "After the death of an earnest knight man
hangeth high in church his shield to his memory. All so is this
shield, that is, the crucifix, set in church in such place that it
may soonest be seen, for to think thereby on the knightship of
Jesus Christ which He did on the rood." Here is evidently a
passionate, chivalrous love of our Lord. The Rule is very full of
child-like piety, and at the same time of shrewd common sense. Its
whole tone is as different as possible from that of the hermit of
modern fancy. There are no images of Alexandrian orgies, no
hobgoblins worse than the anchoress's cat, which is especially
exempt from the ban which proscribes pet animals.10 She is nothing
but a simple girl, who has given up the free life of English
country maidens for the love of Christ.

Very different is the next anchoress who comes under our
consideration. One of the most remarkable books of the Middle Ages
is the hitherto almost unknown work called "Sixteen Revelations of
Divine Love made to a devout servant of our Lord, called Mother
Juliana, an Anchoress of Norwich."11 It contains visions and
passages of such beauty as to rival the revelations of the Blessed
Angela of Foligno. We shall find it well worth studying.

But little is known of Mother Juliana. Her very name has been
hitherto unnoticed. It appears, however, most probable that she is
the Juliana Lampit to whom a knight, Shakespeare's "good Sir
Thomas Erpingham,"12 who commanded the English archers at
Agincourt, left a legacy in his will in 1424. Her cell was at the
east end of the church-yard of St Julian's Church at Norwich.13
She was thirty years old and a half in May, 1373, and, as she
appears to have died in 1443, she must have lived to be a hundred.
She thus lived through some of the most stirring times of English
history. She saw Poitiers and Agincourt, and the death of Joan of
Arc.

Nothing can show more forcibly how profoundly the minds of men in
the fourteenth century were stirred down to their lowest depths
than the appearance in an obscure anchoress of those fundamental
questions concerning good and evil, which, however laid to rest in
times of peaceful faith, are sure to start up afresh whenever the
minds of men are strongly moved. We know that the time was marked
by an outburst of mystical life in Germany, and that Eckhart,
Tauler and the Blessed Henry Suso are proofs of the existence of a
deeply speculative as well as religious spirit; but we were not
prepared to find it in England. This is the more remarkable
because there is no trace of any connexion between the German and
English movement. In one short passage alone, Juliana, in the
crude English expression, "unmade kind is God,"14 might seem to
give utterance to the doctrine so prominent in Eckhart that
creatures, considered as eternally present to God's mind, are
identical with God. It was such expressions as these which drew
upon the Dominican the censure of the Church, which, after his
submission, he modified, and which reappear in writers of his
school, such as the Blessed Henry Suso, but with explanations
which render them harmless. Their occurrence in Mother Juliana is
very remarkable. We might be tempted to suppose that they were an
importation into Norwich through the immigration of Flemish
weavers. We must, however, remember that this school of mysticism,
represented by Ruysbrock, appeared later in Flanders than in the
Rhineland. These views, then, are only another proof, among many,
of the simultaneous appearance of ideas in places unconnected with
each other. Like volcanoes, distant from each other, bursting out
into flame at one and the same moment, they reveal the existence
of some fiery depths at work in the very heart of Christendom. In
Juliana's mind, however, this view of creation is only subordinate
to that which absorbs and agonizes her whole being -- the mystery
of the existence of sin. Like the faces of fiends which grin in
stone down upon us from the roof of a Gothic cathedral, the
thought haunted her cell and mocked her at her prayers. In her
mind it does not take the shape of the modern difficulty of the
existence of suffering, eternal or temporal. It is true that even
in this shape the difficulty was not entirely unknown to the
Middle Ages. In Dante's great poem, for instance, the question of
the eternal destiny of the heathen is treated with a freedom which
we should not have expected. Even in the preceding century Brother
Berthold is obliged to answer both popular and learned objections
to the doctrine of everlasting punishment.15 This, however, is
never doubted by Mother Juliana. With her the difficulty is the
possibility of the existence of such a horror as sin in creatures,
which, even in the natural order, are so connected with God that
in Him they "move and have their being." Above all, in the
supernatural order, how could there be sin in souls predestinated
to heaven? "How may this be? For I know by the common teaching of
holy Church, and by mine own feeling, that the blame of our sins
continually hangeth upon us from the first man unto the time when
we come up into Heaven. And between these two contraries my reason
was greatly troubled by my blindness, and could have no rest, for
dread that His blissful presence should pass from my sight, and I
to be left in unknowing how He beheld us in our sin. My longing
endured, Him continually beholding; and yet I could have no
patience in great fear and perplexity." Her mind is torn because
she must hate sin, "as holy Church teacheth," yet that hateful
thing exists in the predestinate.16 In vain she takes refuge in
the views of the schoolmen that sin has "no manner of substance,
ne no part of being, ne it might not be known but by the pain
thereof."17 It was but poor comfort that sin, being a defect and
therefore a negation, can be no object of cognition. The fiend was
too powerful to be laid by metaphysical distinctions. Conscience
and "the doom of the Church" alike cried out that it was a horrid
fact, an "ugly sight," and that many creatures "shall he damned to
Hell without aid, as holy Church teacheth me to believe."18 The
agony of soul still continued: "I cried inwardly with all my
might, seeking unto God for help, moaning thus: 'Ah! Lord Jesus,
King of bliss, how shall I be eased?'"19

This is very different from the "Ancren Riwle." There we saw none
but the ordinary temptations of the soul, "the world and the
flesh." Here is a soul racked by the agony of perplexity, torn by
the throes of doubt. It is not the fruit of modern scepticism,
"the spirit which always contradicts." She takes for granted all
the grand mysteries of Heaven and earth. It is this very certainty
which causes intolerable pain. This soul has a tremendous grasp of
the reality of God, which she expresses with terse energy. "The
Trinitie is God," she exclaims, "God is the Trinitie, the Trinitie
is our maker, the Trinitie is our keeper, the Trinitie is our
everlasting lover, the Trinitie is our endless joy and our blisse,
by our Lord Jesus Christ, and in our Lord Jesus Christ; and this
was showed in the first sight (vision) and in all. For when Jesus
appeareth, the Blessed Trinity is understood as unto my sight."20
Yet with all this, there was that "ugly sight" of sin, obscuring
the very face of God, shaking "the holy Church in sorrow and
anguish and tribulation, as men shaketh a cloth in the wind,"21
coming like a dark cloud between her and the crucifix. Truly here
is an anchoress worth studying, if only because it gives us a new
and unexpected insight into the mediaeval time.

The fact is hers was a dismal age. The more we study history, the
more preposterous it seems to lump together into one the whole of
those ages commonly called the Ages of Faith. There is as much
difference between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries as between
the fourteenth and the nineteenth. The power of the Church
throughout the Middle Ages has certainly been much exaggerated.
There were continual fluctuations of victory and defeat. Even in
the thirteenth century she was by no means omnipotent; certainly
at the beginning of the fourteenth her influence was sensibly
growing less. I wish, however, just now especially to point out
that, simultaneously with the fierce attack of Europe on the
Papacy, of which the treatment of Boniface VIII by Philip the Fair
was the beginning, there came an undoubted outburst of sin, a
marked progress in vice. It is absurd to look for the cause of
this enmity in the Papacy itself. Boniface laid claim to nothing
whatsoever which was not successfully claimed by Innocent III. The
causes were to be found in society itself, in profound social
changes which were bringing on political revolutions. The
unchristian principles which from the first were contained in
chivalry, its courts of love, and its impure literature, were now
getting entirely the upper hand over its high and virtuous ideal.
The germ of all this wickedness had been at an early period
brought over to England by the Queen of Henry II, the Eleanor of
the South of France. Since John England had been ruled by men who,
with all their faults, were good and religious -- Henry, Dante's
"king of simple life,"22 and the noble Edward, his son; but the
brilliancy of Cressy and Poitiers cannot blind us to the
licentiousness of the court of Edward III, even though we
disbelieve the common story of his affection for the Countess of
Salisbury. Minute details on the subject of dress and manners,
from contemporaries of Mother Juliana, come to us from too many
sources to leave a doubt on the degeneracy of the times. The dress
and demeanour of the ladies of the upper classes scandalized the
people, and were a distinct change for the worse. "In these days,"
says Knighton, "arose a murmur and clamour among the people, that
whenever there was a tournament, there came a great concourse of
ladies of the court, costly and beautiful, but not of the best of
the kingdom, in divers and wonderful rich apparel, in divided
tunics, one part of one colour and one of another, with short caps
and bands in the manner of cords wound round the head, and zones
well bound round with gold or silver, and in pouches across their
bodies knives called daggers, and thus they proceeded on chosen
coursers or well-governed horses to the place of tournament; and
so expended and devastated their goods, and vexed their bodies
with scurrilous wantonness, that the murmurs of the people sounded
everywhere; and thus they neither feared God nor blushed at the
chaste voice of the people."23 Evidently these ladies of the
period were worse than their grandmothers. Let any one call to
mind the Parson's sermon in the "Canterbury Tales," and he will
see that this immodesty continued in the reign of Richard II. This
change of manners was, however, by no means confined to England.
Loud complaints arose from every land in Europe. Dante's sad and
beautiful description of the simplicity of the old Florentine life
which he had known in his early years, and his indignant lines
against the low dresses introduced among the Florentine ladies of
the fourteenth century,24 are too precise to allow us to suppose
them to be the product of a morbid mind. The sober prose of the
chronicle bears out the language of the poet. "People at this
time," says the Roman author of Rienzi's life, "began to change
much in their habits, both in dress and conduct." Documents from
Pavia, Piacenza and Milan bear witness to the same change for the
worse, especially in the modesty of the young.25 As for France,
the universal voice accuses it of being the centre of corruption
and vice. Already, at the end of the preceding century, a preacher
of the south of France attacks customs which only appeared later
elsewhere.26 Villani traces Florentine degeneracy to the visit of
the French in 1384.27 The same degeneracy appears in Germany.
Landino, a commentator on Dante, mentions a circumstance of German
life which resembles St Chrysostom's invectives against the public
baths of the Eastern Empire. The whole subject is thus summed up
by a competent writer28: "Since the end of the thirteenth century
the comfort and material prosperity of all classes in Italy, the
Netherlands, France and Germany were much greater owing to the
spread of commerce and intercourse. On all sides are seen a
tendency to luxury and a rapid change of fashion which already,
under Philip IV, called forth a formal sumptuary ordinance for the
nobility, clergy and citizens." It was just one of those periods
in which the heart of Christians like Mother Juliana are
profoundly stirred by the sight of the increasing wickedness of
mankind.

Nor need we wonder that the knowledge of the wickedness of the
world should have reached the cell of the recluse. It so happens
that the anchoress lived in the centre of these political
revolutions, which were the result of this very degeneracy of
chivalry. Norwich, with its 60,000 inhabitants, was the second
city in the kingdom, and represented more interests than even
London. No one can fail to have been struck with the prominence of
financial details in the annals of the reign of Edward III. The
great conqueror is forced to leave his great crown and his little
crown and his Queen's crown in pledge, and his nobles as hostages
for his debts, before he can set sail from the continent and
return to his own kingdom. A great part of his revenues came from
taxes on wool, and as Norwich was the great seat of woollen
manufactures, it acquired an immense preponderance in an age when
almost daily alternations between protectionist and free-trade
principles prove the attention paid to its peculiar branch of
commerce. The city was therefore always profoundly stirred by
England's revolutions, and wild storms surged up to the very doors
of the cell of the Anchoress of Carrow. Every party in the realm
was represented there. About seventy years before Juliana's birth
there had been fighting in the streets between the partisans of
the Abbey and the citizens. The old-world privileges of the
Church, given in times when the monks were almost the only
agriculturists, became galling to the rich wool-merchants of
Norwich, and a bloody fight had been the result. The agitation
had, however, worked deeper down; and a lower stratum of society
was in process of upheaval. In the great insurrection of 1381 the
French Revolution had been well-nigh anticipated. Two elements of
strife were at work, and each affected Norwich. First there was
the rebellion of labour against property. The awful visitation of
the Black Death had carried off a vast proportion of the ill-fed,
comfortless villains. The result was a great rise in wages, which
Parliament attempted to keep down by legislation. This produced a
long strike among the labourers, who fled from the uncultivated
fields and flocked into the towns. From one single manor, that of
Cossey, no fewer than eighteen villains in one year fled to
Norwich; out of these eight received their freedom on the plea of
their having had a domicile for a year and a day. This occurred
earlier in the century, but by Juliana's time hundreds must thus
have been turned into free manufacturers instead of serfs. In that
one city there were congregated all the conflicting elements of
society -- the rich Abbey, the wealthy merchant, the Flemish
manufacturer and the freed serf. This of itself, however, might
have been insufficient to raise the storm if it had not been for a
cause to which I have adverted. The increasing and ruinous luxury
of the nobles produced a grinding oppression of the poor. This had
always been contained in the bosom of feudalism. In that system
those who were not possessors of land, the villains and the serfs,
had but little to trust to but the conscience of their lord and
the customs which regulated their services. As long as the lord
had comparatively simple wants, the serf was less oppressed. But
when a licentious court showed an example of prodigality, the
infection spread through the whole of the feudal hierarchy. The
knight still swore to defend the poor and the oppressed, but when
he wanted money for his multiplied needs, the temptation to wring
it out of the vassal was too strong to be resisted. Here again we
have a cloud of witnesses from all sides. The evil had begun
earlier in France. "The order of knighthood," says James of Vitry
in a sermon, "is now-a-days in many cases corrupt; they use their
strength like furious madmen. Many harry their vassals by corvees,
as they are called, and give them no bread to eat."29 "Let the
serf be too happy that I have left him his calf and spared his
life," said a nobleman, who had carried off a poor man's cow.
Matters had become ten times worse at the period of which we are
writing. The world had less conscience, and there are fewer
stories on record of the signal punishment of the oppressor.
"Jacques Bonhomme will not pull out his purse unless you beat him,
but Jacques Bonhomme will pull out his purse because he will be
beaten," was the common talk.30 Jacques Bonhomme took a fearful
revenge. The horrible rebellion of the Jacquerie was the result.
In England it took a longer time to stir up these elements of
horror. There was a better feeling amongst us, and the Commons in
the Good Parliament presented a petition for a law to forbid the
lords of the demesnes to exercise sovereign authority by taxing
the villain.31 The king answered that he would act as seemed good
to him. The answer cost England a civil war. Six years later
London was in the hands of Wat Tyler at the head of the Kentish
serfs, and the blood of the Archbishop of Canterbury stained the
streets of the city. Men perpetrated horrible crimes, but they
were maddened by an unjust tax, levied by officials who insulted
the honour of those who were nearest and dearest to them. Here
again Norwich was in the midst of the fight. A dyer of Norwich was
at the head of the peasants, and its Bishop, of the noble house of
Spencer, in full armour, with a few lancers, rode and hewed down
the insurgents, and arrested their leader. While all these horrors
were enacted at the city gates, Juliana was leading her life of
miraculous prayer. Amidst decaying chivalry and chaotic revolt the
saints of God were suffering. It is remarkable that on the same
blood-stained flats of Norfolk, over which formerly, in quieter
times, St Walstan, of the royal house of Cedric, had driven the
plough as a poor labourer, now in this most troubled century, an
English peasant maiden, Jane the Meatless, was adoring and loving
the Blessed Sacrament, which for many years was almost her only
food.

Into this witch's cauldron was thrown another ingredient. Up to
this time Europe can hardly be said to have given birth to an
indigenous heresy. Such errors as those of Berengarius and Gilbert
de la Poree were chiefly confined to the schools, and only
affected the laity in a comparatively small degree. Heresies of
the Albigensian class were the descendants of Gnostics and
Manichees.32 Public opinion was against them, and the very
jongleurs in their songs satirized the Vaudois. We find, however,
in the fourteenth century the beginning of a distinct revolt of
the cultivated class against Christianity. They are already
numerous enough to fill the sixth circle of Dante's Hell. In the
case of Fredrick II it was still possible to refer his scepticism
to what has been well called Ghibelline culture. But now out of
the dismal tombs arise at once spirits who belonged to both the
great parties of the time. Farinata was a Ghibelline, Cavalcante
was a Guelph. Hitherto England had been singularly free from
intellectual revolts against the Church. The Dominican author of
the "Ancren Riwle" thanks God that England is free from heresy. In
Mother Juliana's time, however, the land was stained with native
error. It is to the disgrace of Wycliffe that while he taught
doctrines which, notwithstanding his disclaimers, struck at the
root of all property, he played into the hands of the party of the
rapacious nobles, headed by the Duke of Lancaster. The citizens of
London rose in disgust against the priest who insulted their
bishop and was protected by the man who was the defender of
abuses, which the Black Prince rose from his bed of death to
oppose in his place in Parliament. We have not, however, anything
to do with Wycliffe's social views. I must advert to the
speculative part of his system in order to contrast it with that
of the recluse of Norwich, for there is sometimes a coincidence of
language which might deceive the unwary. Little do they know of
Wycliffe who look upon him as a sort of modern Evangelical because
he translated the bible and abused the mendicant Orders. That he
was a morning-star of the Reformation we have no difficulty in
allowing, a fitting Lucifer for such a day. Some writers have
connected him with Ockham, because Merton College had the honour
of producing both. In point of fact, the two doctors were at the
very opposite extremes of the poles of scholastic thought.
Wycliffe identifies nominalism with heresy and held realism in its
most intrepid form. "We meet in him," says a Protestant writer,
"with elements which in their logical evolution would have led to
Pantheism." What they did lead to, according to the same
authority, was "a denial of free-will" in God and man. So
thoroughly and absolutely did he identify in God the idea and the
fact, the order of thought and the order of being, that he denies
to God the conception of any possible things beyond what is or
will be actual. Thus creation, present or future, is the measure
of God's omnipotence. The old metaphysical bull-dog of the North
country, the "quidam Borealis" of Walsingham, hung on with all his
teeth to his premisses, in spite of the immorality of the
conclusion. God, according to him, was neither more nor less free
in the creation of the world than in the generation of the Son. I
need not say that this is direct Pantheism, since it makes the
universe a necessary part of God. Wycliffe saw and was not scared
by the fearful danger of throwing the causality of evil upon God.
He tries to escape from it, indeed, by the scholastic view that
sin is but a negation, and therefore cannot be the object of the
Divine ideas. But he did not fear to say that all things happen by
absolute necessity.33 "Accordingly all sin appears to him a
necessary thing; all is required in order to the beauty of the
universe." This might have appeared at first sight as
unintelligible nonsense, but it has borne a most bitter fruit.
Unfortunately a good deal of what some are inclined to dismiss as
metaphysical subtlety leads to endless misery, and turns to very
intelligible blasphemy. The slightest acquaintance with the
schoolmen will enable us to see that Wycliffe's views are an
audacious perversion of scholastic principles. His denial of
possible things in God is a shameless use of St Thomas's "Actus
Purus," and his theory of evil a still more shameless abuse of the
view that sin is a defect not a substance.

We are now in a condition to show how groundless is the notion
that Mother Juliana's expressions in the least imply a tendency to
the errors of Wycliffe. Both fact and doctrine render such a
notion preposterous. It so happens that we have Walsingham's
testimony that "Faith and religion remained inviolate in the
diocese of Norwich." The martial prelate whom we met just now
threatened to burn any Lollard whom he caught, and would, without
doubt, have kept his word. The recluse was under ecclesiastical
jurisdiction, and was too marked a person to escape if her works
had had a really Wycliffite tendency. Furthermore, her tender
devotion to our Lady, her reverence for the saints, her very mode
of life rendered it impossible. Wycliffe denied the necessity of
confession, calls the canonization of saints blasphemous, and
enclosure within stone walls a result of "the cursed spirit of
falsehood." The only passages which would lend a colour to such an
imputation on the recluse are those which we have already quoted,
and others34 which imply strong views about predestination, the
impossibility of the ultimate fall of the elect, and the loving
care of God for the souls of the elect if they fall into sin. All
these coincidences only show how deeply the minds of men were
stirred, since we find views on these subjects in the very cell of
the recluse. It would be simple ignorance to suppose that such
thoughts were confined to Wycliffe, and could only be derived from
him. Bradwardine had already made them familiar. How far even the
popular mind was tossed about by questions of free-will and grace
is plain from the fact that in Chaucer the Nun's Priest mentions
Bradwardine's book; and the existence of these disputes is thus
referred to as well-known to an assembly such as that which
composed the Canterbury Pilgrims, to mine host of the Tabard, to
the miller and the reeve.

What has already been proved contrary to fact can still be shown
to be impossible by a comparison of doctrine. The few coincidences
between Mother Juliana and Wycliffe are among the many proofs that
the same speculative view often means different things in
different systems. Both St Augustine, Calvin and Mahomet believe
in Predestination, yet an Augustinian is something utterly
different from a Scotch Cameronian or a Mahometan. The same words
mean different things in the mouths of different people. The idea
which runs through the whole of Mother Juliana is the very
contradictory of Wycliffe's Pantheistic Necesitanarianism, The
moment that a man believes in any real sense in a loving God he
ceases to be a Pantheist. It is not enough to believe in a
beneficent spirit, for universal benevolence may be a blind
impulse, but since love is a free gift of self, a spirit who can
love is free, and a being who is free is at once personal.35 The
very basis, however, and the essence of Mother Juliana's views are
her belief in the lovingness of God. Few since the beginning of
Christianity have spoken of the love of God like this English
recluse. After the agony of the black night of sin, her only
consolation is to plunge into the great abyss of God's love. "Thus
Jesus Christ, that does good again evil, is our very Mother. We
have our being of Him, where the ground of Motherhood beginneth,
with all the sweet keeping of love that endlessly followeth. As
verily as God is our Father, as verily is God our Mother; and that
showeth He in all; and namely in these sweet words there He saith,
'I it am,' that is to say, 'I it am, the might and the goodness of
the Fatherhead; I it am, the wisdom and the kindness of the
Motherhead; I it am, the light and the grace that is all blessed
love; I it am, the Trinity; I it am, the Unity; I it am, the high
sovereign goodness of all manner things; I it am that maketh thee
to long; I it am, the endless fulfilling of all true desires.' Our
high Father, Almighty God, which is being, He knoweth us and loved
us from before any time. Of which knowing in His full deep
marvellous charity, by the far-seeing endless counsel of all the
blessed Trinity, He would that the Second Person should become our
Mother, our Brother, and our Saviour. Whereof it followeth that as
verily as God is our Father, verily God is our Mother." In a
perfect rapture of love, she goes on, "Our kind Mother, our
gracious Mother, for He would all whole become our Mother in all
things; He took the ground of His work full low and full mildly in
the maiden's womb. In this low place He arrayed Him, and dight Him
all ready in our poor flesh, Himself to do the service and the
office of Motherhead in all things. We wit that all our mothers
bear us to pain and to dying, what is that but our very Mother
Jesus? He alone beareth us to joy and to endless living, blessed
mote He be. Thus He sustained us with Him, in pain and travail,
unto the full time that He would suffer the sharpest thorns and
grievous pains that ever were or shall be, and died at the last.
And when He had done and so borne us to bliss, yet might not all
this suffice to His marvellous love. And that He showed in these
high ever-passing words of love, 'If I might suffer more, I would
suffer more.' He might no more die, but He would not stint
working. Wherefore Him behoveth to feed us, for the dear-worthy
love of motherhood hath made Him debtor to us. The mother may give
her child to suck her milk; but our precious Mother Jesus, He may
feed us with Himself and doth full continuously and tenderly with
the Blessed Sacrament. This is precious food of very life, and
with all the sweet sacrament He sustaineth us full mercifully and
graciously. And so He meant in these blessed words, when He said,
'I it am that Holy Church preacheth thee and teacheth thee.' That
is to say, all the health and life of the sacraments, all the
virtue and the grace of my word, all the goodness that is ordained
in Holy Church to thee, I it am.' The mother may lay her child
tenderly to her breast; but our tender Mother Jesus He may homely
lead us into His blessed by His sweet open side, and show us there
in party of the Godhead. And that showeth He in the ninth
Revelation, giving the same understanding in His sweet word when
He saith, 'Lo how I love thee.'"36 This is the key-note of her
whole book, the solution of all her doubts. She attempts no
reasoning, and has no logical answer to her difficulties. She
simply plunges into the depths of God's love. "There I was learned
that I should only enjoy in our blessed Saviour Jesus, and trust
in Him for all things. And thus our good Lord answered to all
questions and doubts that I might make, saying full comfortably: '
I may make all things well, and I can make all things well, and I
shall make all things well, and I will make all things well, and
thou shalt see thyself that all manner of things shall be well."
This, after all, is the sole refuge of poor humanity. Yet it is
not a mere sentiment. It is based on a deep view of God's great
attributes. God is not merely a benevolent being. She
distinguishes His pity from His love. Down in the depths of His
eternity there has been a longing, which she calls "a ghostly
thirst," a "love-longing."37 "For as truly as there is a property
(attribute) in God of ruth and pity, as verily there is a property
in God of thirst and longing. And this property of longing and
thirst cometh of the endless goodness of God; right as the
property of pity cometh of His endless goodness; and though He
have longing and pity, they are sundry properties (different
attributes) as to my sight."

Put this side by side with Wycliffe's deep growl at abuses rather
than sin, his heaven of brass, and his iron destiny; it looks like
and is a different religion. Not only the feeling which actuates,
but the intellectual basis which animates it is the direct
contradiction of his whole system. She belongs to the genuine
school of English mystics which we have pointed out. Her love for
Jesus is of the same kind as that found in the "Ancren Riwle." The
supernatural events of her life remind us of what has been often
thought to be peculiar to Continental devotion. Here is a poor
English recluse, who has visions not unworthy of being read by the
side of those of her great contemporary, St Catherine of Siena.
This is a phase of English mediaeval life which we little
suspected. Juliana is a recluse very different from the creatures
of the imagination of writers on comparative morals. So far from
being cut off from sympathy with her kind, her mind is tenderly
and delicately alive to every change in the spiritual atmosphere
of England. Every storm was felt with an electric shock through
her inmost being. The earthquake council made the cell of the poor
recluse rock to and fro as violently as the stones of old St
Paul's. The four walls of her narrow home seem to be rent and torn
asunder, and not only England, but Christendom appears before her
view.38 It was not the crucifix which came before her in her
visions, but the very form of the crucified Jesus, "with the
plenteous bleeding of the head, the great drops of blood falling
down from under the garland of thorns." And this was seen at
Norwich, the English Manchester of the fourteenth century, when
Cressy and Poitiers were still fresh in men's minds, and the Black
Prince was lying sick at Berkhampstead. At that time England had
not separated itself from the great stream of Christian life.

A further proof the intimate connection between the spiritual and
social life of England is furnished us by the history of the
remarkable treatise to which this Essay serves as an introduction.
The precise time when it was actually written is unknown; all that
is certain is that the "Scale of Perfection" must have been
written before 1395, when its author died. As Juliana's book was
written in 1370, it is plain that there cannot have been any great
difference in date between the composition of the two works. It
tells much for the spiritual life of England that in the
fourteenth century such a treatise as the "Scale of Perfection"
should have been written. It is, however, to the subsequent
history of the book that I wish to point rather than to its
origin; it so happens that the period assigned for the
commencement of Walter Hilton's influence coincides with that of
the close of Mother Juliana's life.39 Unlike Mother Juliana's
book, which remained comparatively unknown, Walter Hilton's
treatise evidently had a wide circulation. The number of existing
manuscripts scattered through various cathedral and other
libraries bear witness to its popularity. It was translated into
Latin by a Carmelite early in the fifteenth century. It was high
in repute with the Carthusians, and this in itself is a guarantee
of its being extensively read. No order was so respected in
England and other Teutonic countries as the Carthusian. Those who
speak most mournfully of the bad state of Christendom just before
the Reformation, always make an honourable exception of the sons
of St Bruno. They were spiritual directors of Gerard Groot in the
Low Countries, and of Colet, More and Fisher in England. One of
their especial employments was the translation and propagation of
good spiritual books, as we know from Surius, through whom Tauler
and Henry Suso were made known to the Church in a Latin dress.
Walter Hilton was the favourite author of Margaret, Countess of
Richmond, the spiritual child of Fisher. The art of printing was
as yet in its infancy when the "Scale of Perfection" was at once
printed in black letter by Wynkyn de Worde, and other editions
rapidly appeared. This, then, is the remarkable fate of this book.
A treatise on the spiritual life, originally written by an obscure
author in a small house of Augustinian Canons in Nottinghamshire
and addressed to the most solitary of all the varieties of
monastic life, is chosen to be the guide of good Christians in the
courts of kings and in the world. Throughout the dismal wars of
the Roses, and the more dismal reign of Henry VIII, many a heart
was strengthened and consoled by Walter Hilton. The very copy
still exists which must have been in the hands of the martyred
Carthusians, the glow from whose pallid faces lit up the cell of
Sir Thomas More as he gazed down at them as they were dragged on
the hurdle to execution. The selfsame book was to be found in the
palace of the mother of Henry VII. How she loved it, the rude
lines in Wynkyn de Worde's edition will testify:

This heavenly book more precious than gold,
Was lately directed with great humility,
For godly pleasure therein to behold
Unto the right, noble Margaret, as ye see,
The King's Mother of excellent bounty,
Harry the Seventh, that Jesus him preserve,
This mighty Princess hath commanded me
T' imprint this book her grace for to deserve.

Now, all this is very worthy of remark. Here is a book written for
a recluse, yet printed and recommended as a book of devotion, not
for the cloister, but for good Christians in the world. This is
quite a new feature, and points at once to fact that that the
interior life was spreading in England. What is the significance
of this fact? Enough has been already said to show that the
religious life of the Middle Ages was not the formal ritualism
which many have supposed. German scholars have done a vast deal to
destroy this illusion by the publication of old religious books in
the vernacular tongue. We have only got to look at Mone's
collection of mediaeval hymns, and to observe the frequent notices
of translations, not only into German, but into French and
Italian, to be convinced that the songs of the Church were
accessible to the poor, and even in common use amongst them in
their own language. Jacopone de Todi's beautiful hymns are a proof
of the popularity of spiritual songs other than the liturgical
hymns of the Breviary. There are extant also hymns sung and
prayers said in various languages -- French, Proven�al, German and
English -- to be used at the Elevation, the Holy Communion, and on
various feasts.40 Didactic books of devotion in the vernacular
tongue, such as Tauler's "Nachfolge," "L'Internelle Consolation,"
and in English the "Ayenbite of Inwit" or Remorse of Conscience
prove that spiritual reading was practiced. It is plain then that
our mediaeval ancestors were by no means so chained to the letter,
so unspiritual as some have supposed. Nevertheless it is true that
the "Scale of Perfection" is a step forward, indicating a greater
spread of the spiritual life among Christians in the world.

The fact is that there was arising, at the close of the feudal
period, a new class, which had to be legislated for. We often use
the terms mediaeval and modern without much reflection on the real
difference between society as it was constituted then and now. The
feudal society was a great hierarchy of duties. Of course,
wherever Christianity exists property must involve duties; in the
mediaeval time property and duty were absolutely synonymous.
Property was held on condition of certain services, and was
forfeited when these were withheld. In theory the feudal sovereign
was the owner of the soil, and the nobles held their lands of him
on a definite tenure. Combined with this was the view that each
noble was despotic on his own land, and administered justice to
the serfs who lived upon it. Horridly oppressive and tyrannical as
the system became in fact, it was founded on the notion of
reciprocal obligations. The noble defended and fought for the
serf, who in his turn laboured for the lord. The consequence of
this state of things was that there did not exist a single man who
had nothing to do. Independently of the absence of available
wealth and of means of being comfortable, the very fact of
possessing something implied that a man must work. Every little
lord who possessed as much as a tower was fully occupied in the
administration of justice, in the government of his vassals, and
in actual war or the keeping himself ready for it. Robbery,
injustice and crime were very possible; idleness could not exist.
The result of this was that there was no such thing as a class of
persons in society who had a great deal of time on their hands and
were not compelled to do anything. In times when money was scarce
life was a struggle. Ladies took a personal share in the work of
the kitchen, and overlooked their servants from the gallery in the
hall. Even hunting was an occupation as well as an amusement; men
hunted stags for the sake of the venison, instead of foxes for the
love of sport. The fish of the stream and the birds which were
struck down by the hawk were an object to the lord. Gardens and
parks were few, and forests many. The marks of the plough can
still be traced close up to the ruined castle wall. Life was a
more earnest, personal affair in the Middle Ages than now.

Gradually this state of things passed away. Warwick the King-maker
has been rightly called the last of the Barons. In Henry VI we may
consider that we have the last of mediaeval kings. The Middle Ages
find their euthanasia in this pallid, saintly monarch, just as a
former state of things was closed by St Edward the Confessor.
Edward IV, the favourite of the citizens of London, brave, but
unchivalrous, faithless, irreligious and unchaste, was a king of a
far other type. The wars of the Roses utterly destroyed the old
feudal baron. Men were hardly conscious of the change, and the
Duke of Norfolk might still boast "that he was as good as a king
when he was on his own estate at Norwich." The dream cost him his
head. It was only gradually that men became aware of the vast,
silent change which had been consummated. The feudal world had
passed away, and modern society had taken its place. As far as
concerns us, the result is the total disruption of all necessary
connection between property and occupation, the creation of a very
large class of men and women who can live, if they please, without
doing anything at all. I do not mean to say that any man breathing
is born without duties; but I mean that there is a very large
class of beings who can eat, drink and perform all the functions
of life whether they do their duties or not.

It is evident that this state of things requires something
peculiar to meet it. What is to be done with all this superfluity
of unemployed life? What is a man thus set free from obligation to
do with his time? In the Middle Ages life itself imposed an
unvarying rule of living. Is man now to live without a rule? A
thousand moral and religious questions start up and cry out for an
answer. Things have become possible now which were not possible
before. Men and women can spend their lives in an unvarying round
of amusements and excitements, even without supposing them to seek
vicious pleasures. Theatres, operas, balls, novels -- things
unknown to their ancestors -- may make up their life. Is this
right? Is it safe? A most momentous question this, which requires
an answer. Here is a new thing upon earth, or at least a state of
things which has not existed since the Teutonic nations were
converted -- the upper classes of society able to live in a
constant round of amusement, and thinking themselves
satisfactorily sure of salvation, because of the hypothetical
absence of great sin. Are unlimited balls and unlimited sacraments
compatible? Or is a worldly life a perilous one for those who live
it? Or rather ought not Christians to spend more time in prayer,
in devotion, in voluntary almsgiving and works of charity, in
proportion as they are set free from many duties? Is not life more
dangerous and salvation more insecure because of this terrible
invasion of the world, with audacious requirements and unblushing
exigencies? Considering the cool impudence with which the world
insists on his own innocence, nay, has even the impertinence to
look upon its general mode of life as a duty to society, it does
seem as if this new attitude of the world called for new rules and
a greater strictness to counteract its dangers.

Now, the "Scale of Perfection" is valuable because it is an
English book containing an answer to this question. If not written
for, it was at least adopted by an English princess, a king's
mother, living at court in the reign of Henry VII. In fact, it
contains the old English Catholic view before Protestantism
existed. The answer to the above question is unequivocal, and is
contained in the following words:41 "When men and women who are
free from worldly businesses if they will, and may have their
needful sustenance without much solicitude about it, especially
religious men and women -- and other men also in secular estate,
that have good abilities and understanding, and may, if they will
dispose themselves, come to much grace; these men are more to
blame than those who are so busied with worldly things which are
so needful to be done. Verily it is perilous for a soul not to
seek to make any further progress." The only safe thing is to "set
his heart fully to come to more grace and give himself heartily to
prayer, meditating and other good wishes."

Such was the old Catholic life, before we were corrupted by the
society of Protestants. The moral of the book is that a
supernatural life is common to all Christians, and that there is
no such infinite distinction between Christians in the world and
religious. Both, in different degrees and modes, are not safe
unless they aim at "profiting in grace." Of course, much in Walter
Hilton's book is inapplicable to us, yet all who are not repelled
by the unusual English will find it a very beautiful spiritual
treatise. It is not a regimental book, and contains few rules. No
one will find in it "a rule of life." It is simply occupied in
laying down principles. A book written in the fourteenth century
cannot be expected to establish minute practical rules for the
nineteenth. It will, however, be very valuable as a specimen of
the old traditional Catholic spiritual life in England. The basis
of all spiritual life in all ages must after all be the same; and
this book, written so long ago in the forgotten house of Canons at
Thurgarton, may help us now in fighting our battle of life in this
very different time. In this respect it will be a lesson to us.
Rather mystical than ascetical, it contains an antidote to the
prevailing tendency to restless activity, even in devotion. Above
all, it is remarkable for containing the old English tradition of
a most tender, personal love for our blessed Lord.

Now that we are threatened by a great influx of Protestant morals,
through the increasing intercourse of Catholics with the world, it
will be well if this book reminds us of our past history. The
great apostasy of the Reformation could never have been successful
if a terrible outbreak of worldliness had not sapped the first
principles of Christian life among the nobility and gentry of
England. Nothing will save us now in dangerous times but the
supernatural principles of our Faith carried out in our lives.

THE SCALE OR LADDER OF PERFECTION

BOOK I

PART I -- CHAPTER I

That the inward State of the Soul should be like the outward

GHOSTLY Sister in Christ Jesus, I pray thee that in the calling to
which our Lord hath called thee for His service, thou rest
contented, and abide constantly therein, travailing busily with
all the powers of thy soul to fulfil in truth of good life (by the
grace of Jesus Christ) the state which thou hast taken in exterior
likeness and seeming; and as thou hast forsaken the world, as it
were a dead man, and turned to our Lord bodily in sight of men, so
thou be in thy heart as it were dead to all earthly loves and
fears, and turned wholly to our Lord Jesus Christ; for be thou
well assured that a bodily turning to God without the heart
following is but a figure and likeness of virtues, and not the
truth in itself. Wherefore wretched men and women are they who,
neglecting the care of their interior, show only exteriorly a form
and likeness of holiness, in habit or clothing, in speech and
outward carriage and works, casting their eyes upon other men's
deeds, and judging their defects, esteeming themselves to be
something, when indeed they are just nothing, and so deceive
themselves. Do not thou so; but together with thy body turn
principally thy heart to God, and frame thy interior to His
likeness, by humility and charity and other spiritual virtues, and
then art thou truly turned to Him. I say not that thou mayest
early on the first day be turned to Him in thy soul in perfection
of virtues as thou mayest with thy body be enclosed in a house;
but my meaning is, that thou shouldst know that the end of thy
bodily enclosure is that thou mightest thereby the better come to
a spiritual enclosure; and even as thy body is enclosed from
bodily converse with men, even so thine heart might be enclosed
from the inordinate loves and fears of all earthly things. And
that thou mayest the better come thereto, I shall in this little
treatise yield thee the best instructions and helps that I know or
can.

CHAPTER II

Of the Active Life, and the Exercises and the Works thereof

THOU must understand that there are in the holy Church two manner
of lives (as saith St Gregory) in which a Christian is to be
saved. The one is called Active, the other Contemplative; without
living one of these two lives no man may be saved. The Active
consisteth in love and charity exercised exteriorly by good
corporal works, in fulfilling of God's commandments and of the
seven works of mercy, corporal and spiritual, towards our
Christian brethren. This life pertains to all worldly men that
have riches and plenty of worldly goods to dispose of, and to all
those (be they learned or unlearned, lay men or spiritual persons)
that are in office or state to govern, or have care of others; and
generally all worldly men are bound to the practice of this kind
of life according to their best knowledge and ability, and as
reason and discretion shall require. If he much good have, then
much good for to do; if he little have, less may he do; and if he
naught have, then must he have a good will. Such works as these
(be they corporal or spiritual) are works of the Active life. Also
a great part of it consists in great bodily deeds which a man
exerciseth upon himself, as great fasting, much watching, and
other sharp penance, to chastise the flesh with discretion for
sins formerly committed. As also to mortify thereby the lusts and
likings of the flesh, and to make it pliable and obedient to the
will of the spirit. These works though they be but Active, yet
they help very much, and dispose a man in the beginning to attain
afterwards to contemplation, if they be used with discretion.

CHAPTER III

Of the Contemplative Life, and the Exercises and Works thereof

CONTEMPLATIVE life consisteth in perfect love and charity, felt
inwardly by spiritual virtues; and in a true and certain sight and
knowledge of God and spiritual matters. This life belongs to them
especially who for the love of God forsake all worldly riches,
honours, worships and outward businesses, and wholly give
themselves soul and body (according to all the knowledge and
ability that is in them) to the service of God, by exercises of
the soul.

Now then, since it is so (dear sister) that the quality of thy
state requireth of thee to be contemplative (for that is the
intent of thy enclosing, that thou mightest more freely and
entirely apply thyself to spiritual exercises), it behoveth thee
to be right busy both night and day in labour of body and spirit,
to attain as nigh as thou canst to that life by such means as thou
mayest find to be best for the said end. But before I tell thee of
the means, I shall tell thee a little more of this contemplative
life, that thou mayest somewhat see what it is, and so set it as a
mark in the sight of thy soul, whereto thou shalt tend, and direct
all thy exercises and doings.

CHAPTER IV

Of three Sorts that be of Contemplation and of the First of them

CONTEMPLATIVE life hath three parts. The first consisteth in
knowing God, and of spiritual things gotten by reason and
discourse, by teaching of men, and by study in holy Scripture,
without spiritual gust, or affection, or inward relish felt by
them; for they have it not by the special gift of the Holy Ghost,
as persons truly spiritual have their knowledge, which, therefore,
is very tasteful to them in their interior.

This part have especially in them learned men and great scholars,
who, through long study and travail in holy Writ, attain to this
knowledge more or less by the abilities of their natural wit,
which God giveth to every one, more or less, that hath use of
reason.

This knowledge is good, and may be called a kind or part of
Contemplation, inasmuch as it is a sight of verity and a knowledge
of spiritual things. Nevertheless it is but a figure and shadow of
true Contemplation, since it hath no spiritual gust or taste in
God, nor inward sweetness, which none feels but he that is in
great love of charity; for it is the proper Well or Spring of our
Lord, to which no alien is admitted. But the aforesaid manner of
knowing is common both to good and bad, seeing it may be had
without charity, and therefore it is not very contemplation. Of
this kind of knowledge St Paul speaketh thus: If I knew all
mysteries and all knowledge, and have not charity, I am nothing.42

Nevertheless, if they that have it keep themselves in humility and
charity, and according to their might fly worldly and fleshly
sins, it is to them a good way, and a great disposing to true
Contemplation if they desire and pray devoutly after the grace of
the Holy Ghost. Other men have this knowledge, and turn it to
pride and vain-glory, or unto covetousness and desire of worldly
dignities, worships and riches, not humbly using it to the glory
of God, nor charitably to the soul's good of their brethren. Some
of them fall either into heresies and errors, or into other open
sins, by which they discredit themselves and the holy Church. Of
this knowledge St Paul speaks in these words: knowledge puffeth
up, but charity edifies.43 This I knowledge alone lifteth up the
heart to pride; but mix it with charity, and then it turns to
edification.

How learned men may become pious.

This knowledge alone is but water, unsavoury and cold. And,
therefore, if they that have it would humbly offer it up to our
Lord, and pray for His grace, He would by His blessing turn their
water into wine, as He did at the prayer of His Mother at the
marriage feast; that is to say, He would turn their unsavoury
knowledge into true wisdom, and their cold naked reason into
spiritual light and burning love, by the gift of the Holy Ghost.

CHAPTER V

Of the Second Sort of Contemplation

THE second part of Contemplation lieth principally in affection,
without spiritual light in the understanding or sight of spiritual
things; and this is commonly of simple and unlearned men who give
themselves wholly to devotion, and is had and felt in this manner:
When man or woman being in meditation of God, through the grace of
the Holy Ghost, feeleth fervour of love and spiritual sweetness,
by occasion of thinking of Christ's passion, or of some of the
works done by Him in His humanity; or he feeleth cause of great
trust in the goodness and mercy of God for the forgiveness of his
sins, or admires the liberality of His gifts of grace, or else
feeleth in his affection a certain reverential fear towards God,
and His secret judgements and justice, which yet he seeth not; or
being in prayer, he findeth all the powers of his soul to be
gathered together, and the thought and love of his heart to be
drawn up from all transitory things, aspiring and tending upwards
towards God by a fervent desire, and spiritual delight, and yet,
nevertheless, during that time he hath no plain sight in the
understanding of spiritual things, nor in particular of any of the
mysteries or senses of the holy Scriptures; but only that for that
time nothing seemeth so pleasing and delightful to him as to pray,
or think as he then doth for the savoury delight and comfort that
he findeth therein, and yet cannot he tell what it is, but he
feeleth it well, for it is a gift of God, for out of it spring
many sweet tears, burning desires, and still mournings, or
contrition for sin, which scour and cleanse the heart from all
filth of sin, and causeth it to melt into a wonderful sweetness in
Jesus Christ, and to become obedient and ready to fulfil all God's
will, insomuch that it seems to him he makes no reckoning what
becomes of himself, so that God's will were fulfilled in him, and
by him, with many other such good inspirations and desires which
cannot be reckoned. Such feelings as these cannot be had without
great grace, and whoso hath any of them or other such like, he is
at that time in charity and the grace of God; which charity let
him know to his comfort, will not be lost or lessened in him
(though the fervour thereof may abate) but by a deadly sin. And
this may be called the second part of Contemplation, nevertheless,
this part hath two degrees.

CHAPTER VI

Of the Lower Degree of the Second Sort of Contemplation

THE lower degree of this feeling, men which are active may have by
grace, when they are visited by our Lord, as mightily and as
fervently as they that give themselves wholly to Contemplation and
have this gift. But this feeling in his fervour cometh not alway
when a man would, nor lasteth it full long. It cometh and goeth as
He will that giveth it; and therefore whoso hath it, let him be
humble, and thank God and keep it secret, unless it be to his
confessor, and let him hold it as long as he may with discretion;
and when it is withdrawn, let him not be daunted or troubled, but
abide constant in the light of faith, an humble hope, with patient
expecting till it come again. This is a little tasting of the
sweetness of the love of God, whereof David saith thus in the
Psalms: Gustate et videte quoniam suavis est Dominus -- Taste and
see how sweet our Lord is.44

CHAPTER VII

Of the Higher Degree of the Second Sort of Contemplation

THE higher degree of this part may not be had nor held but of them
which be in great rest and quiet both of body and mind, who by the
grace of Jesus, and long travail corporal and spiritual, are
arrived to a rest and quietness of heart and clearness of
conscience. So that nothing is so pleasing to them as to sit still
in quiet of body and to pray always to God, and to think on our
Lord, and sometimes on the blessed name of Jesus, which is
comfortable and delightful to them, by the remembering whereof
they feel themselves moved and fed in their affection towards God.
And not only the said name, but also all other kind of prayers (as
the Pater Noster, the Ave, the Hymns and Psalms, and other devout
prayers and sayings of holy Church) are turned, as it were, into a
spiritual mirth and sweet songs, by which they are comforted and
strengthened against all sins, and much relieved in their bodily
pains or diseases. Of this degree speaketh St Paul thus: Be not
drunk with wine, but be filled with the Holy Ghost, speaking to
yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, making melody
an your hearts to our Lord.45 Whoso hath this grace, let him keep
himself in humility and be ever desiring to come to more knowledge
and feeling of God, which is to be had in the third sort of
Contemplation.

CHAPTER VIII

Of the Third Sort of Contemplation

THE third sort, which is as perfect Contemplation as can be had in
this life, consisteth both in knowing and affecting; that is, in
knowing and perfect loving of God, which is when a man's soul is
first reformed by perfection of virtues to the image of Jesus, and
afterwards, when it pleaseth God to visit him, he is taken in from
all earthly and fleshly affections, from vain thoughts and
imaginings of all bodily creatures, and, as it were, much ravished
and taken up from his bodily senses, and then by the grace of the
Holy Ghost is enlightened, to see by his understanding Truth
itself (which is God) and spiritual things, with a soft, sweet,
burning love in God, so perfectly that he becometh ravished with
His love, and so the soul for the time is become one with God, and
conformed to the image of the Trinity.

The beginning of this Contemplation may be felt in this life, but
the full perfection of it is reserved unto the bliss in heaven. Of
this union and conforming to our Lord speaks St Paul thus: Qui
adhaeret Deo unus spiritus est cum eo;46 that is to say, he who by
ravishing of love is become united to God, God and that soul are
not now two, but both one. And surely in this oneing consisteth
the marriage which passeth betwixt God and the soul, that shall
never be dissolved or broken.

CHAPTER IX

Of the Difference that is betwixt the Second and Third Sort of
Contemplation

THE foresaid second sort of Contemplation may be termed a burning
love in Devotion, and is the lower; this third a burning love in
Contemplation, and is the higher. That is sweeter to the bodily
feeling, this to the spiritual feeling inwardly, and is more
worthy, more spiritual, more wonderful. For, indeed, it is a
foretaste (so little as it is) and an earnest or handsell47 of the
sight or Contemplation of heavenly joy, not clearly, but half in
darkness, which shall be perfected and made a clear light and
sight in the bliss of heaven; as St Paul saith: Now we see as
through a glass darkly, but then we shall see face to face.48 This
is the enlightening of the understanding in delights of loving,
whereof David saith in the Psalter: Et nox illuminatio mea in
deliciis meis -- My night is my light in my delight.49 The other
is milk for children, but this solid meat for perfect men, that
have their senses exercised (as St Paul saith) for the discerning
of good from evil.

To the perfection of this high Contemplation may no man come till
he be first reformed in soul to the likeness of Jesus in the
perfection of virtues: nor can any man living in mortal body have
it continually and habitually in the height of it, but by times
when he is visited. And as I conceive by the writing of holy men,
it is a full short time, for soon after he returneth to a sobriety
of bodily feeling; and of all this work charity is the cause.
Thus, as I understand St Paul speaks of himself: For whether we be
beside ourselves, it is to God, or whether we be sober, it is for
your cause; it is the love of Christ that constraineth us;50 that
is, whether we overpass our bodily senses in Contemplation, or we
are more sober to you in our bodily feeling, the love of Christ
straineth us. Of this part of Contemplation and of reforming to
God speaketh St Paul openly, thus: But we all with open face,
beholding as in a glass the glory of our Lord, are changed into
the same image from glory to glory, even as by the spirit of the
Lord.51 Which is as much as if in the person of himself and all
perfect men he had said thus: We, first being reformed in virtues,
and having the face of our soul uncovered by opening of our
spiritual eye, behold as in a mirror the heavenly joy, being
withal fulshaped and oned to the image of our Lord, from clearness
of faith into clearness of understanding, or else from clearness
of desire into that of blessed love; and all this is wrought in a
man's soul by the spirit of our Lord, as saith St Paul.

This part of Contemplation God giveth where He will, to learned
and unlearned, to men and to women, to them that are in
government, and to solitary also. But it is special, and not
common. And although a man who all his lifetime is active happen
to have the gift of it through special grace or favour, yet the
fulness of it may no man have, but he that is solitary and in life
contemplative.

CHAPTER X

How that Appearings or Shewings to the Corporal Senses or Feelings
may be both good and evil

BY this that I have said may you somewhat understand that visions,
or revelations, or any manner of spirit in bodily appearing, or in
imagining, sleeping or waking, or also any other feeling in the
bodily sense, made as it were spiritually, either by sounding in
the ear, or savouring in the mouth, or smelling at the nose, or
else any sensible heat, as it were fire glowing and warming the
breast, or any other part of the body, or any other thing that may
be felt by bodily sense, though it be never so comfortable and
liking, yet be they not very Contemplation, but simple and
secondary (though they be good) in respect of spiritual virtues,
and of this spiritual knowing and loving of God accompanying true
Contemplation. But all such manner of feeling may be good, wrought
by a good angel, and they may be deceivable, wrought by a wicked
angel, when he transfigureth himself into an angel of light.
Wherefore sith52 they may be both good and evil, it appeareth they
are not the best. For, mark ye well, that the devil may, when he
hath leave, counterfeit in bodily feeling the likeness of the same
things the which a good angel may work; for just as a good angel
cometh with light, so can the devil. And as he can do this in
matters of seeing, so can he do it in matters of the other senses.
Whoso hath felt both, he can well tell which were good and which
were evil. But he that never felt either, or else but one of them,
may easily be deceived.

These two be alike in the manner of feeling outwardly, but they
are full different within, and therefore they are not to be
desired greatly, nor to be entertained lightly, unless a soul can
by the spirit of discretion know the good from the evil, that he
be not beguiled, as St John saith: Trust not every spirit, but
essay first whether it be of God or no.53 Wherefore by one trial
that I shall tell thee, methinketh thou shalt know the good from
the evil.

CHAPTER XI

How thou shalt know whether the Showing or Apparition to the
bodily Senses and Feelings be good or evil

IF it be so that thou see any manner of light or brightness with
thy bodily eye or in imagination, other than every man seeth; or
if thou hear any pleasant, wonderful sounding with thy ear, or in
thy mouth any sweet sudden savour, other than what thou knowest to
be natural, or any heat in thy breast like fire, or any manner of
delight in any part of thy body, or if a spirit appear bodily to
thee, as it were an angel to comfort thee or teach thee; or if any
such feeling, which thou knowest well that it cometh not of
thyself, nor from any bodily creature, beware in that time, or
soon after, and wisely consider the stirrings of thy heart; for if
by occasion of the pleasure and liking thou takest in the said
feeling or vision, thou feelest thy heart drawn from the minding
and beholding of Jesus Christ, and from spiritual exercises, as
from prayer, and thinking of thyself and thy defects, or from the
inward desire of virtues, and of spiritual knowing and feeling of
God, for to set the sight of thy heart and thy affection, thy
delight and thy rest, principally on the said feelings or visions,
supposing that to be a part of heavenly joy or angels' bliss, and
thereupon comest to think that thou shouldst neither pray nor
think of anything else, but wholly attend thereto, for to keep it
and delight thyself therein: then is this feeling very suspicious
to come from the enemy; and therefore, though it be never so
liking and wonderful, refuse it and assent not thereto, for this
is a sleight of the enemy. When he seeth a soul that would
entirely give itself to spiritual exercises, he is wonderfully
wroth; for he hateth nothing more than to see a soul in this body
of sin to feel verily the savour of spiritual knowledge and the
love of God, which he himself, without the body of sin, lost
wilfully. And therefore, if he cannot hinder him by open sinning,
he will let and beguile him by such vanity of bodily savours or
sweetness in the senses, to bring a soul into spiritual pride and
into a false security of himself, weening that he had thereby a
feeling of heavenly joy, and that he is half in paradise, by
reason of the delight he feeleth about him, when indeed he is near
to hell gates; and so by pride and presumption he might fall into
errors or heresies, or phantasies, or other bodily or spiritual
mischiefs.

But if it be so that this manner of feeling let not thy heart from
spiritual exercises, but maketh thee more devout, and more fervent
to pray, more wise to think ghostly thoughts, and though it be so
that it astonish thee in the beginning, nevertheless afterward it
turneth and quickeneth thy heart to more desire of virtues, and
increaseth thy love more to God and to thy neighbour, also it
maketh thee more humble in thy own eyes -- by these tokens mayest
thou know that it is of God, wrought by the presence and working
of a good angel, and cometh from the goodness of God, either for
the comfort of simple devout souls, for to increase their trust
and desire towards God, to seek thereby the knowing and loving of
God more perfectly by means of such comforts. Or else if they be
perfect that feel such delight, it seemeth to them to be an
earnest and as it were a shadow of the glorifying of the body,
which it shall have in the bliss of heaven; but I wot54 not
whether there be any such man living on earth. This privilege had
Mary Magdalen (as it seemeth to me) in the time when she was alone
in the cave thirty years, and every day was borne up with angels,
and was fed both body and soul by their presence, as we read in
her story.

Of this way of discerning the working of spirits speaketh St John
in his Epistle, thus: Omnis spiritus qui solvit Jesum, hic non est
ex Deo -- Every spirit that loosed or unknitteth Jesus, he is not
of God.55 These words, I confess, may be understood in many
manners, nevertheless, one way I may understand them to this
purpose, as I have said. This knitting and fastening of Jesus to a
man's soul is wrought by a good will and a great desire to Him,
only to have Him and see Him in His bliss spiritually. The greater
this desire is, the faster is Jesus knit to the soul; and the less
this desire is, the looser is He knit; whatsoever spirit,
therefore, or feeling it is which lesseneth this desire and would
draw it down from the stedfast minding of Jesus Christ and from
the kindly breathing or aspiring up to Him, this spirit will
unknit Jesus from the soul, and therefore is not of God, but is
the working of the enemy. But if a spirit, or a feeling, or a
revelation make this desire more, knitting the knots of love and
devotion faster to Jesus, opening the eye of the soul into
spiritual knowing more clearly, and maketh it more humble in
itself, this spirit is of God.

And hereby you may learn that you are not to suffer your heart
willingly to rest nor to delight wholly in any such bodily
feelings of such manner of comforts or sweetness, though they were
good; but rather hold them in your sight naught, or little in
comparison of spiritual desire and stedfast thinking on Jesus; nor
shall you fasten the thought of your heart over much on them.

CHAPTER XII

How and in what things a Contemplative Man should be busied

BUT thou shalt ever seek with great diligence in prayer that thou
mayest come to a spiritual feeling or sight of God. And that is,
that thou mayest know the wisdom of God, the endless might of Him,
His great goodness in Himself and in His creatures; for this is
Contemplation, and that other mentioned is none, thus saith St
Paul: Being rooted and grounded in charity, we may be able to
comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and
height and depth.56 That ye may know, he saith not, by sound of
the ear nor sweet savour in the mouth, nor by any such bodily
thing, but that ye may know and feel with all saints what is the
length of the endless being of God, the breadth of the wonderful
charity and the goodness of God, the height of His almighty
Majesty and the bottomless depths of His wisdom. In knowing and
spiritual feeling of these should be the exercise of a
Contemplative man. For in these may be understood the full knowing
of all ghostly things. This exercise is that one thing which St
Paul coveted after, saying thus: This one thing I covet, which is
that, forgetting those that are behind, and reaching forth to
those things that are before, I press to the mark of the supernal
vocation.57 Which is as much as if he had said, One thing is best
for me to covet, and that is, that I might forget all things that
be behind or backward, and I shall stretch out my heart ever
forward for to feel and to grip the sovereign reward of endless
bliss. Behind are all bodily things, forward or before are all
spiritual things. And so St Paul would forget all bodily things,
and even his own body also, that so he might see spiritual things.

CHAPTER XIII

How Virtue beginneth in Reason and Will and is perfected in Love
and Liking, or Affection

THUS have I told thee a little of Contemplation what it is, to the
intent that thou mightest know it and set it as a mark before the
sight of thy soul, and to desire all thy lifetime to come to any
part of it by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is the
conforming of a soul to God, which cannot be had unless it first
be reformed by some perfection of virtues turned into affection;
which is when a man loveth virtues because they be good in
themselves. Many a man hath the virtues of humility, patience and
charity to his neighbour, and such other only in his reason and
will, and hath no spiritual delight nor love in them, for ofttimes
he feeleth grudging heaviness and bitterness for to do them, and
yet nevertheless he doth them, but 'tis only by stirring of reason
for dread of God. This man hath these virtues in reason and will,
but not the love of them in affection. But when by the grace of
Jesus and by ghostly and bodily exercise reason is turned into
light and will into love, then hath he virtues in affection; for
he hath so well gnawn on the bitter bark or shell of the nut that
at length he hath broken it and now feeds on the kernel; that is
to say, the virtues which were first heavy for to practise are now
turned into a very delight and savour, so that he takes as much
pleasure in humility, patience, cleanness, sobriety and charity as
in any other delights. Verily till these virtues be turned thus
into affection he may well have the second part of Contemplation,
but the third, in sooth, shall he not have.

CHAPTER XIV

Of the Means that bring a Soul to Contemplation

Now seeing virtues dispose us to Contemplation, it behoveth us to
use the means that may bring us to virtues. And they be three
means which men most commonly use that give themselves to
Contemplation: As reading of holy Scripture and good books,
secondly, spiritual meditation; thirdly, diligent prayer with
devotion. By meditation shalt thou come to see thy wretchedness,
thy sins and thy wickedness; as pride, covetousness, gluttony,
sloth and lechery, wicked stirrings of envy, anger, hatred,
melancholy, wrath, bitterness and imprudent heaviness. Thou shalt
also see thy heart to be full of vain flames and fears of the
flesh and of the world. All these stirrings will always boil out
of thy heart, as water runneth out of the spring of a stinking
well, and do hinder the sight of thy soul, that thou mayest never
see nor feel clearly the love of Jesus Christ, for know thou well
that until the heart be much cleansed from such sins, through firm
verity58 and diligent meditating on Christ's humanity, thou canst
not have any perfect knowledge of God, Himself witnessing the same
in His Gospel thus: Blessed are the clean in heart, for they shall
see God.59 In meditation, likewise, shalt thou see those virtues
which be needful for thee to have, as humility, mildness,
patience, righteousness, spiritual strength, temperance,
cleanness, peace and soberness, faith, hope and charity. These
virtues thou shalt see in meditation, how good, how fair, how
profitable they be; and by prayer thou shalt thereupon desire and
get them. Without which third means of prayer thou canst not be
contemplative, for Job saith thus: In abundantia ingredieris
sepulchrum -- In plenty shalt thou enter thy grave; that is in
plenty of bodily works and spiritual virtues shalt thou enter thy
grave, that is thy rect60 in Contemplation.

CHAPTER XV

SECTION I

What a Man should use and refuse by the Virtue of Humility

Now if thou desirest to prosecute spiritual works and exercises
wisely, and to labour seriously in them, it behoveth thee to begin
right low; three things needest thou first to have, upon which as
on a firm ground thou shalt set all thy work, namely, humility, a
firm faith, and resolute will and purpose to seek after God.

Humility necessary for Contemplation

First, it behoveth thee to have humility on this manner: thou
shalt in thy will and in thy feeling judge thyself unfitting to
dwell among men and unworthy to serve God in conversation with His
servants and as unprofitable to thy Christian brethren, wanting
both skill and power to fulfil any good works of active life in
help of thy neighbour, as other men and women do. And, therefore,
as a wretch and an outcast and refuse of all men art shut up in a
house alone, that thou shouldst not grieve nor offend man or woman
by thy bad example, seeing thou canst not profit them by any well-
doing. Beyond this it behoveth thee to look further, that since
thou art so unable to serve our Lord by outward bodily works, how
much more it behoveth thee to deem thyself unable and unworthy to
serve him spiritually by inward exercises; for our Lord is a
spirit, as the prophet saith: Our Lord is a Spirit before our
face, and the most kindly service to Him is spiritual, as He saith
Himself: True worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and
in truth.61 Thou then that art so gross, so lewd, so fleshly, so
blind in spiritual things and in the understanding of thy own soul
(which it behoveth thee first to know before thou canst come to
the knowing of God), how shouldst thou feel or think thyself to be
able or worthy to enjoy the estate or likeness of a contemplative
life, which consisteth principally, as I have said, in spiritual
knowing. This I speak to thee, not that thou shouldst repent thee
of thy clothing, enclosing and state of life, but that thou
shouldst feel this humility really in thy heart (if thou canst),
for this is the very truth and no lie. And, thereupon, thou shalt
night and day desire and endeavour to come in truth as near as
thou canst to that state which thou hast taken upon thee, firmly
believing it to be the best kind of state for thee (by the mercy
of God) to exercise thyself in. And though it be so that thou
canst not in this life attain to the perfection of that state,
yet, at least, seek to make an entry into it, and trust assuredly
to have the perfection thereof by the mercy of God in heaven. And
truly this is my own case, who feel myself so wretched, frail and
fleshly, and so far from the true feeling of that which I speak
of, that in a manner I do nothing but cry, God mercy, and desire
after it (as well as I can) with a hope that our Lord will bring
me thereto in heaven. Do thou likewise; and better also, if God
give thee grace.

Not to judge others.

The feeling of this lowness and humility will put out of thy heart
all imprudent looking into other men's actions, and drive thee
wholly to behold thyself, as if there were no other man living but
God and thyself. And thou shalt deem and hold thyself more vile
and more wretched than any one creature that liveth; insomuch that
thou shalt hardly be able to brook and endure thyself, for the
greatness and number of thy sins, and the filth which thou shalt
feel in thyself.

A Contemplative should judge a venial sin in himself more grievous
than a mortal sin in another.

Thus behoveth it thee sometimes to feel and judge of thyself, if
thou mean to become truly humble. For I tell thee truly, if thou
wilt be very humble, thou must think a venial sin in thyself more
grievous and painful to thee and greater in thy sight sometimes
than great deadly sins in other men. And this is most true in thy
case who aimest at Contemplation, seeing whatsoever hindereth and
letteth thy soul most from the feeling and knowing of God,
oughteth to be most grievous and painful to thee. But a venial sin
of thy own letteth thee more from the feeling and perfect love of
Jesus Christ than any other man's sins can do, be they never so
great.

It follows, therefore, that thou shouldst rise more in thy heart
against thyself to hate and condemn in thyself all manner of sin
which letteth thee from the sight of God, more than against the
faults of other men; for if thy heart be clean from thy own sins,
verily the sins of other men will not hurt thee. If, therefore,
thou wilt find rest here and in heaven, do thou (according to the
counsel of one of the holy Fathers) every day ask of thyself: What
am I? and judge no man.

Who are not to tell others of their faults.

But thou wilt object, how may this be, seeing it is a deed of
charity to tell men of their faults, and a deed of mercy to
admonish them that they may mend?

To this I answer that in my mind, that to thee or any other that
hath taken on them the state of a contemplative life, it belongeth
not to leave the watching over thyself to behold and blame other
men, unless there should be great need, so that a man were in
danger to perish without it.

And who are.

But those men that are active and have authority and charge of
others, are bound by their office and by way of charity to look
into, inquire and rightly to judge and correct other men's faults;
not out of a desire and delight to punish them, but only for need,
with the fear of God and in His name, and for the love of the
salvation of their souls. Other men also who are active and have
no care or charge of other men are bound to admonish other men of
their faults out of charity only, and that when the sin is deadly
and cannot well be corrected by another, and there is hope of
amendment by being admonished else it is better to let it alone.

That this is good doctrine may be gathered by the practices of St
John, who was a Contemplative, and St Peter, who was an Active
man. For when our Lord at His last Supper with His disciples, at
the motion of St Peter to St John, told St John how Judas should
betray Him, St John told it not to St Peter, though he asked him,
but turned him, and laid his head upon Christ's breast, and became
ravished through love into the contemplation of the Divinity and
divine secrets; and that so pleasingly and beneficially to himself
that he forgot both Judas and St Peter, teaching thereby other
Contemplatives how in the like occasion they should behave
themselves.

Not to entertain suspicions of those that lead an active life.

By this that hath been said thou mayest learn neither to judge
other men nor conceive willingly against them any evil suspicions,
but love them, nor see any faults in them, but worship in thy
heart such as lead Active lives in the world, and suffer many
tribulations and temptations; which thou sitting in thy house
feelest naught of; and they endure very much labour and care, and
take much pains for their own and other men's sustenance, and many
of them had rather (if they might) serve God (as thou dost) in
bodily rest and quietness. Nevertheless, they in the midst of
their worldly business, avoid many sins, which thou, if thou wert
in their state, shouldst fall into, and they do many good deeds,
which thou canst not do. There is no doubt but many do thus, but
which they be, thou knowest not; and therefore it's good for thee
to worship62 them all, and set them all in thy heart above thyself
as thy betters, and cast thyself down at their feet, as being the
vilest and lowest in thy own sight. For there is neither dread nor
danger in making thyself never so low beneath others, though in
the sight of God, at the same time, thou hast more grace than
others; but danger there is in being too high, and lifting up
thyself in thy thoughts willingly above any other man, though he
were the most wretched and the most sinful caitiff that is in the
earth; for our Lord saith: He that humbleth himself shall be
exalted, and he that exalteth himself shall be brought low.63

This part of humility doth it behove thee to have in thy
beginning; and by it, and for the grace, shalt thou come to the
perfection of it, and so of all other virtues. For whoso hath one
virtue, hath all other virtues; as much as thou hast of humility,
so much hast thou of charity, of patience, and of other virtues;
though they be not shown or appear outwardly. Be, therefore, busy
to get humility, and hold it fast, for it is the first and the
last of all other virtues.

The first, as being the foundation, as saith St Augustine: If thou
think to build a high house of virtues, lay first a deep
foundation of humility. Also, it is the last; for it is the
maintainer and conserver of all other virtues. St Gregory saith:
He that gathereth (or striveth to keep) virtues without humility,
is like him that maketh or carrieth the powder of spices in the
wind. Do thou never so good deeds, fast, watch, or anything else,
if thou hast not humility, it is naught which thou dost.

How to get humility.

Nevertheless, if thou feelest not this humility in thy heart with
affection, as thou wishest, do as thou mayest, humble thyself in
will, by reasoning and arguing with thyself, judging that by right
thou shouldst be so humble, and think of thyself as I have said,
albeit thou do not so feel it within thee, and in that respect
hold and esteem thyself the verier wretch, that thou canst not
feel thyself to be that which in truth thou art. And if thou do
so, though thy flesh rise against it, and will not assent to thy
will, be not too much daunted, nor troubled, but bear with and
suffer such false feelings of thy flesh, as a pain, and then
despise and reprove that feeling, and break down that rising of
thy heart, as if thou wouldst be well contented to be spurned and
trodden under other men's feet. So by the grace of Jesus Christ,
through stedfast thinking on the humility of His precious Manhood,
shalt thou much abate the stirrings of pride; and the virtue of
humility, that was first only in thy naked will, shall be turned
into feeling of affection. Without which virtue, either in true
will, or in feeling of affection, whoso disposeth himself to serve
God in a contemplative life, like to a blind man, he will stumble,
and never attain thereto. The higher he climbeth by bodily
penance, and other virtues, and hath not this humility, the lower
he falleth. For as St Gregory saith: He that cannot perfectly
despise himself, he hath never yet found the humble wisdom of our
Lord Jesus Christ.

SECTION II

How Hypocrites and Heretics, for want of Humility, exalt
themselves in their Hearts above others

HYPOCRITES and heretics feel not this humility neither in good-
will nor in affection, but full cold and dry are their hearts and
reins from the soft feeling of this virtue, and by so much the
further are they from it, as they esteem they have it. They gnaw
on the dry bark without, but the sweet kernel and the inward taste
of it they never come to. They make a show of outward humility in
habit and holy speech, in a low carriages and (as they would make
show) in many corporal and spiritual virtues. But in the will and
affection of their heart, where humility should be, it is but
feigned. For they judge, and despise, and set at naught other men
that will not do as they do and teach; they esteem them either
fools for want of knowledge, or to be blinded by fleshly living.
And, therefore, lift they themselves up on high in their own sight
above all others, weening that they live better than others, and
that they only have the truth and verity of right living and of
spiritual feeling, and of the singular grace of God both in
knowledge and affection above all others. And out of this sight of
themselves riseth a delight in their hearts, in which they worship
and praise themselves, as if there were none but they. They praise
and thank God with their lips, but in their hearts, like thieves,
they steal His worship and praise, and place it in themselves, and
so have neither humility in will nor affection.

A wretched caitiff or sinner which falleth all day, and is sorry
that he doth so, though he hath not humility in affection, yet
hath he it in good will; but an Heretic or an Hypocrite hath
neither; for they have the condition of the Pharisee, who came, as
our Lord saith in the Gospel, with the Publican into the Temple to
pray. And when he came, he prayed not, nor asked aught of God, for
he thought he had no need; but he began to thank God, and said
thus: Lord, I thank Thee that Thou givest me more grace than
others, that I am not like other men, robbers, luxurious, or other
such sinners. He looked beside him, and saw the Publican, whom he
knew for a wretch, knocking on his breast, only crying for mercy;
then he thanked God he was not such a one as he, for Lord, said
he, I fast twice a week, and I pay my tithes duly. When he had
done, our Lord said: He went home without grace as he came, and
got just nought.

But thou wilt say, wherein did this Pharisee amiss, since he
thanked God and spoke the truth? I answer he did amiss, inasmuch
as he judged and reproved the Publican in his heart, who was
justified of God. And he also did amiss, for he thanked God only
with his mouth, but secretly in his heart he willingly delighted
in himself through pride and glorying in the gifts of God,
stealing to himself the honour of them, and the praise and love
due to God. This is the condition verily of Heretics and
Hypocrites, they will not willingly pray, and if they pray, do not
humble themselves, acknowledging their wretchedness, but
feigningly thank and love God, and speak of Him with their mouth,
but their delight is vain and false, and not in God, and yet they
do not think so, for they cannot love God. And as the wise man
saith: Praise is not comely in the mouth of a sinner.64 Wherefore
it is profitable for me, and for thee, and for such other
wretches, to leave the condition of this Pharisee, and feigned
loving of God, and follow the Publican in lowliness, asking of
mercy and forgiveness of sins, and grace of spiritual virtues,
that we may afterward, with a clean heart, truly thank Him and
love Him, and yield wholly all honour without feigning; for our
Lord asketh thus by His Prophet:65 Upon whom shall My Spirit rest?
He answereth Himself, and saith: Upon none but upon the humble,
poor and contrite in heart, and him that trembleth at My words.
If, therefore, thou wilt have the Spirit of God ruling in thy
heart, have humility and dread Him.

CHAPTER XVI

Of a firm Faith necessary thereto, and what things we ought to
believe thereby

THE second thing which it behoveth thee to have is a firm faith in
all the articles of thy belief, and in the Sacraments of the holy
Church, believing them stedfastly with all thy will in thy heart.
If thou feel any stirring in thy heart against any of them, by
suggestion of the enemy to put thee in doubt of them, be thou
stedfast, and dread not therefore, but forsake thine own wit,
without disputing or ransacking of them, and set thy faith in
general on the faith of the holy Church, and make no reckoning of
the stirrings of thy heart which seem to be contrary thereto; for
those stirrings are not thy faith, but the faith of the holy
Church is thy faith, though thou never see it nor feel it. And
bear those suggestions patiently as a scourge of our Lord, by
which He will cleanse thy heart and make thy faith stedfast. Also
it behoveth thee to embrace and honour in thy heart all the laws
and ordinances made by the prelates and rulers of the Church,
either in declaring of the Faith, or concerning the Sacraments, or
in general concerning all Christian men, meekly and truly
assenting to them though thou understandest not the cause of
making such ordinances; and though thou shouldst think that some
of them were unreasonable,66 yet shalt not thou judge them or find
fault with them, but reverence and honour them although they
little concern thy particular. Neither entertain thou any opinion
or fancy or singular conceit under colour of more holiness (as
some unwise people do) either out of thy own imagination, or by
the teaching of any other man, which thwarteth the least ordinance
or general teaching of the Church.

Hope.

Moreover, together with such faith, thou shalt firmly hope that
thou art ordained by our Lord to be saved as one of His chosen by
His mercy, and stir not from this hope whatsoever thou hearest or
seest, or what temptation befalls thee. Though thou think thyself
so great a wretch that thou art worthy to sink into hell, for that
thou doest no good nor servest God as thou shouldst, yet hold thee
in this truth and in this hope, and ask mercy, and all shall be
well with thee. And though all the devils in hell appeared in
bodily shapes, saying to thee, sleeping or waking, that thou
shouldst not be saved; or all men living on earth or all the
angels in heaven (if possible) should say the same, yet believe
them not, nor be stirred much from thy hope of salvation. This I
speak to thee, because some are so weak and simple that when they
have given up themselves wholly to serve God to their power, and
feel any stirrings of this kind within them by the suggestion of
the enemy, or any of his false prophets (which men call
soothsayers) that they shall not be saved, or that their state or
manner of living is not pleasing to God, they be astonished and
moved with such words, and so through ignorance fall sometimes
into great heaviness, and as it were into despair of salvation.

Who may hope for salvation.

Wherefore it is (as it seems to me) necessary for every one (that
by the grace of God is in a full and resolute will to forsake sin,
and as clearly as his conscience telleth him, suffereth no deadly
sin to rest in him, but he goes soon to confession for it, and
humbly betakes himself to the sacraments of the Church) to have a
good trust and hope of salvation. Much more then should they trust
and hope, who give themselves wholly to God, and eschew venial
sins the best they know and can.

Who not.

But on the other hand, as perilous it is for him who lieth
wittingly in deadly sin, to have trust in salvation, and in hope
of this trust will not forsake his sin, nor humble himself truly
to God and the holy Church.

CHAPTER XV

Of a firm and resolute Intent and Purpose necessary hereto

THE third thing needful for thee to have in thy beginning was an
entire and firm intention; that is to say an entire will and a
desire only to please God, for this is charity, without which all
is nought which thou doest, and thou shalt set thine intent always
to search and travail how thou mayest please Him, resting no time
willingly from some good exercises, either bodily or ghostly.
Neither shalt thou set a time in thy heart that thus long thou
wilt serve Him, and then suffer thy heart willingly to fall down
to vain thoughts and idle exercises, imagining it needful to do so
for preserving of thy health, leaving the keeping of thy heart and
good exercises, and seeking rest and comfort for a time outwardly
from thy bodily senses or inwardly from vain thoughts, as it were
for recreation of thy spirit, that thereby it may be more quick
and lively for spiritual employments. But I trow thou wilt not
find it so. I say not that thou wilt be able fully and continually
to perform this thy intent and purpose, for ofttimes thy bodily
necessities, such as eating, drinking, sleeping and speaking and
the frailty of thy flesh shall let and hinder thee, be thou never
so careful. But my meaning and desire is that thy will and intent
be always wholly to be exercised bodily and spiritually, and to be
no time idle, but always lifting up thy heart by desire to God and
to heaven, whether thou be eating or drinking or doing any
corporal work as much as thou canst, intermit it not willingly.
For if thou have this intent it will make thee quick and ready to
thy exercises; and if thou fall through frailty or negligence upon
any idle occupation or vain speech, it will smite thy heart as
sharply as a prick, and make thee account irksome, and be weary of
all such vanities, and turn again speedily to inward thinking of
Jesus Christ or to some good exercise.

As to thy body, it is good to use discretion in eating, drinking
and sleeping, and in all manner of bodily penance, and in long
vocal prayer, and in all bodily and sensible feelings and
fervours, or earnestness of devotions, and tears and the like, and
in discoursing with the imagination in times of aridities and want
of the feeling of grace. In all these works it is good to use
discretion, for the mean is the best. But in destroying of sin by
keeping thy heart, and in the continual desire of virtues and the
joys of heaven, and to have the spiritual knowledge and love of
Jesus Christ, hold there no mean, for the greater it is the better
it is, for thou must hate sin and all fleshly loves and fears in
thy heart without ceasing, and love virtue and purity and desire
them without stinting if thou canst. I say not that all this is
needful to salvation, but I trow it is speedful and much helping.
And if thou keep this full intent, thou shalt profit more in one
year in virtues than thou shalt without it in seven.

CHAPTER XVIII

A brief Rehearsal of what hath been said, and of an Offering made
of them altogether to Jesus

Now I have told thee of the end thou shouldst set in thy desire,
and draw towards it as nigh as thou canst, as also what is needful
for thee to have in thy beginning, namely, humility, firm faith
and an entire and strong will and purpose, upon which ground thou
shalt build thy spiritual house by prayer and meditation and other
spiritual virtues.

Furthermore, pray thou or meditate thou, or any other good deed or
exercises which thou dost, be it either good by grace or defective
through thy own frailty, or whatsoever it be that thou seest,
feelest or hearest, smellest or tastest, either outwardly or by
thy bodily senses or inwardly by thy imagination, or knowest or
perceivest by thy natural reason, bring it all within the truth
and the rules of holy Church, and cast all into the mortar of
humility and break it small with the pestle of the fear of God,
and throw the powder of all this into the fire of desire, and so
offer it up to God. And I tell thee for truth that well pleasing
shall this offering be in the sight of our Lord Jesus, and sweet
shall the smoke of that fire smell before His face.

The sum is this: draw all that thou seest and intendest within the
truth of holy Church, and break thyself by humility, and offer up
the desire of thy heart only to thy Lord Jesus, to have Him and
nought else but Him. If thou do thus, I hope, by the grace of
Christ, that thou shalt never be overcome by thine enemy. This St
Paul teacheth us when he saith: Whether ye eat or drank, or
whatsoever else ye do, do all in the name of our Lord Jesus
Christ,67 forsaking yourselves and offering all up to Him; and the
means which thou shalt use to this purpose are prayer and
meditation.

PART II -- CHAPTER I

SECTION I

Of Prayers and the several Sorts thereof

What prayer is

PRAYER is profitable and speedful to be used for the getting of
purity of heart by destroying of sin and bringing in virtues; not
that thou shouldst thereby make our Lord know what thou desirest,
for He knoweth well enough what thou needest, but to dispose thee
and make thee ready and able thereby, as a clean vessel, to
receive the grace which our Lord would freely give thee, which
grace cannot be felt till thou be exercised68 and purified by the
fire of desire in devout prayer. For though it be so that prayer
is not the cause for which our Lord giveth grace, nevertheless it
is a way or means by which grace freely given cometh into a soul.

How we should pray

But now thou wilt desire perhaps to know how thou shouldst pray
and upon what thing thou shouldst set the point of thy thoughts in
prayer, and also what prayer was best for thee to use. As to the
first, I answer that when thou art wakened out of thy sleep, and
art ready to pray, thou shalt feel thyself fleshly and heavy,
tending ever downwards to vain thoughts, either of dreams or
fancies, or of unnecessary things of the world or of the flesh,
then behoveth it thee to quicken thy heart by prayer, and stir it
up as much as thou canst to some devotion. In thy prayer set not
thy heart on any bodily thing, but all thy care shall be to draw
in thy thoughts from beholding any bodily thing, that thy desire
may be as it were naked and bare from all earthly things, ever
aspiring upward to Jesus Christ, whom yet thou canst never see
bodily as He is in His Godhead, nor frame any image or likeness of
Him in thy imagination; but thou mayest, through devout and
continual beholding of the humility of His precious humanity, feel
the goodness and the grace of His Godhead.

When thy desire and mind is gotten up, and as it were set free
from all fleshly thoughts and affections, and is much lifted up by
spiritual power unto spiritual favour and delight in Him and of
His spiritual presence; hold thou therein much of thy time of
prayer, so that thou have no great mind of earthly things, or if
they come into thy mind that they do but trouble or affect thee
little. If thou canst pray thus, thou prayest well, for prayer is
nothing else but an ascending or getting up of the desire of the
heart into God by withdrawing of it from all earthly thoughts.
Therefore it is likened to a fire which, of its own nature,
leaveth the lowness of the earth and always mounteth up into the
air, even so desire in prayer, when it is touched and kindled of
the spiritual fire, which is God, is ever aspiring up to Him that
it came from.

What the fire of love in prayer is

They that speak of this fire of love know not well what it is;
save this I can tell that it is neither any bodily thing nor felt
by any sense of the body. A soul may feel it in prayer or in
devotion, which soul is in the body, but it feeleth it not by any
bodily sense; for though it is true that it works in and upon the
soul, that the body itself is turned thereby into a heat and be as
it were chafed through the labour and travail of the spirit,
nevertheless the fire of love is not bodily, for it is only in the
spiritual desire of the soul. And this is no riddle to any man or
woman that have had the experience of devotion; but because some
are so simple as to imagine that because it is called a fire that
therefore it should be hot as bodily fire is, therefore have I set
down thus much.

What prayer is best to be used

Now as to thy other question to know what prayer is best to be
used, I shall give thee my opinion. Thou shalt understand that
there be three kinds of vocal prayer.

Three sorts of Vocal Prayer, and of the first sort.

The first is that which was made immediately by God Himself, as
the Pater noster; the second those that are made more generally by
the ordinance of holy Church, as Matins, Evensong and Hours; the
third sort such as are made by pious men addressed to our Lord and
to our Lady and to His saints.

As to these kinds of prayers that are called vocal, I judge that
for thee that art religious and art bound by custom and thy rule
to say thy Breviary it is most expedient to say it, and that as
devoutly as thou canst, for in saying of them thou sayest also the
Pater noster and other prayers likewise. And to stir thee up more
to devotion there be ordained psalms and hymns, and such other
which were made by the Holy Ghost, like as the Pater noster was.
Therefore thou shalt not say them hastily nor carelessly, as if
thou wert troubled or discontented for being bound to the recital
of them; but thou shalt recollect thy thoughts to say them more
seriously and more devoutly than any other prayers of voluntary
devotion, deeming for truth that, seeing it is the prayer of holy
Church, there is no vocal prayer so profitably to be used by thee
as it is. Thus shalt thou put away all heaviness, and by God's
grace turn thy necessity into good will and thy Obligation into a
great freedom, so that it shall be no hindrance to thy other
spiritual exercises. After this thou mayest, if thou wilt, use
others, as the Pater noster or any other, and stick to those in
which thou feelest most savour and spiritual comfort.

This kind of vocal prayer is commonly most profitable for every
man in the beginning of his conversion, as being then but rude and
gross and carnal (unless he have the more grace) nor cannot think
of spiritual thoughts in his meditations, for his soul is not yet
cleansed from his old sins. And therefore I hope it is most
speedful to use this manner of prayer, as to say his Pater Noster
and his Ave, and to read upon his psalter and such other. For he
that cannot run easily and lightly by spiritual prayer, his feet
of knowledge and love being feeble and sick by reason of sin, hath
need of a firm staff to hold by, which staff is set forms of vocal
prayer ordained by God and holy Church for the help of men's
souls. By which the soul of a fleshly man that is alway falling
downward into worldly thoughts and sensual affections shall be
lifted up above them, and holden up as by a staff, and fed with
the sweet words of those prayers as a child with milk, and guided
and held up by them that he fall not into errors or fancies
through his vain imaginations; for that in this manner of prayer
is no deceit nor error to him that will diligently and humbly
exercise himself therein.

The danger of those that in the beginning leave the vocal Prayers
of the Church and fall too soon to others.

And hereby thou mayest learn that those men (if any such there be)
who in the beginning of their conversion, or soon after, having
felt some spiritual comfort, either in devotion or knowledge, and
are not yet stablished therein, leave such vocal prayer and other
outward exercises too soon, and give themselves wholly to
meditation, are not wise; for ofttimes in that time of rest which
they take to themselves for meditation, imagining and thinking on
spiritual things after their own fancies, and following their
bodily feeling, having not yet received sufficient grace thereto,
by indiscretion overtravel their wits and break their bodily
strengths and so fall into fancies and singular conceits, or into
open errors, and hinder that grace which God hath already given
them, by such vanities. The cause of all this is secret pride and
overweening of themselves; for when they have felt a little grace
and some sensible devotion, they esteem it so much to surpass the
graces and favours He doth to others that they fall into vain-
glory. Whereas if they knew but how little it were in comparison
of that which God giveth, or may give, they would be ashamed to
speak anything of it, unless it were in a case of great necessity.
Of this kind of vocal prayer speaketh David in the Psalms, thus:
With my voice have I cried unto the Lord, with my voice have I
prayed to our Lord.69 Behold how the prophet, for to stir other
men to pray both with mouth and with voice, saith: With my voice I
cried to God, and with my speech I besought our Lord.

The second sort of Vocal Prayer

There is another sort of vocal prayer which is not by any set
common form of prayer; but is, when a man or woman, by the gift of
God, feeling the grace of devotion, speaketh to God as it were
bodily in His presence, with such words as suit most to his inward
stirrings for the time, or as cometh to his mind, answerable to
the feelings or motions of his heart, either by way of rehearsal
of his sins and wretchedness, or of the malice and sleights of his
enemy, or of the mercies and goodness of God. And hereby he crieth
with desire of heart and speech of mouth to our Lord for succour
and for help, as a man that were in peril among his enemies; or in
sickness, showing his sores to God as to a physician, saying with
David: Deliver me from my enemies, O Lord.70 Or else this: Heal my
Soul, for I have sinned against Thee; or other suchlike words as
they come to his mind.

And at other times there appears to him to be so much goodness and
grace and mercy in God that it delighteth him with great affection
of heart to love Him, and thank Him in such words and psalms as do
most suit to that occasion, as David saith: Confess ye to the Lord
because He is good, because His mercy endureth for ever.71

This kind of prayer pleaseth God much, for it proceedeth wholly
from the affection of the heart, and therefore never goeth away
unsped72 or empty without some grace, and this prayer belongeth to
the second part of contemplation, as I have said before. Whoso
hath this gift of God fervently ought for a time to eschew the
presence and company of all men, to be alone that he be not
letted;73 whoso hath it let him hold it as long as he can, for it
will not last long in its fervour. If the grace of it come
plenteously, it is wondrous painful to the spirit, though it be
much pleasant also to it; for it is much wasting to the body whoso
useth it much, for it maketh the body (if the grace of it come in
abundance) for to stir and move here and there as if the man were
mad or drunk and could have no rest. This is a point of the
passion of love, the which by great violence and mastery breaketh
down and mortifieth all lusts and likings of any earthly thing,
and woundeth the soul with the blessed sword of love, that it
makes the body sink, not able to bear it. The touch of love is of
so great power that the most vicious or fleshly man living on
earth, if he were once strongly touched with this sharp sword, he
would be right sober and grave a great while after, and abhor all
the lusts and likings of the flesh and all earthly things which
before he took most delight in.

Of this manner of feeling speaketh the prophet Jeremy thus: And
there was made in my heart as a fire boiling, and shut up in my
bones, and I fainted, not able to bear it;74 which words may be
understood thus: The love and feeling of God was made in my heart,
not fire, but as boiling or burning fire; for as material fire
burneth and wasteth all bodily things where it cometh, right so
doth spiritual fire (as is the love of God) burneth and wasteth
all fleshly loves and likings in a man's soul. And this fire is
shut up in my bones, as the prophet saith of himself, that is to
say: This love filleth the powers of the soul, as the mind, reason
and will, with grace and spiritual sweetness, as marrow filleth
the bones, and that inwardly, and not outwardly in the senses.
Nevertheless it is so mighty within that it worketh out into the
body, and maketh it quake and tremble. And yet it hath so little
to do with the bodily senses, and so unacquainted is the body with
it that it cannot skill of it and cannot bear it, but faileth and
falleth down as the prophet saith. Therefore our Lord tempereth it
and withdraweth this fervour, and suffereth the heart to fall into
more sobriety and softness. He that can pray thus often, he
speedeth soon in his travail, and shall get more of virtues in a
little time than another without this, or exercised in any other
way of prayer, shall get in a long time for all the bodily penance
he can do. Whoso hath this need not afflict his body with more
penance than this brings along with it, which will be enough if it
come often.

The third sort of Prayer.

The third sort of prayer is only in the heart without speech, with
great rest and quietness both of soul and body. A pure heart it
behoveth him to have that shall pray after this manner; for such
only attain to it who by long travail both of body and soul, or
else by such sharp touches or motions of love, as I have before
mentioned, have arrived to rest of spirit, so that his affections
are turned into spiritual savour and relish, that he is able to
pray continually in his heart, and love and praise God without
great letting of temptations or of vanities, as is said before in
the chapter of the second sort of Contemplation. Of this kind of
prayer St Paul saith thus: If I pray with the tongue, my spirit
prayed, but my mind is without fruit. What then? I will pray also
in the spirit, I will pray also in the mind; I will sing in the
spirit, I will sing also in the mind.75 That is to say: If I pray
with my tongue only, by the consent of my spirit, and with
painstaking and diligence, it is meritorious, but my soul is not
fed by it, for it feeleth not the fruit of spiritual sweetness by
understanding. What then shall I do, saith St Paul? And he
answers, I will pray with the exercise and desire of the spirit,
and I will also pray more inwardly in my spirit without labour, in
spiritual savour and sweetness of the love and the sight of God,
by the which sight and feeling of love my soul is fed. Thus (as I
understand him) could St Paul pray.

Of this manner of prayer speaketh our Lord in holy Writ in a
figure thus: Fire shall always burn upon the altar, which the
priest shall nourish, putting wood underneath in the morning every
day, that so the fire may not go out.76 That is, the fire of love
shall ever be lighted in the soul of a devout and clean man or
woman, the which is God's altar. And the priest shall every
morning lay to it sticks and nourish the fire, that is this man
shall, by holy psalms, clean thoughts and fervent desires, nourish
the fire of love in his heart, that it go not out at any time.
This prayer of rest or quiet our Lord giveth to some of His
servants, as it were a reward of their travail, and an earnest of
that love and sweetness which they shall have in the bliss of
heaven.

SECTION II

How they should do that are troubled with vain Thoughts in their
Prayers

BUT thou wilt say that I speak too high in this matter of prayer,
which indeed is no mastery nor difficulty for me to write it, but
it were a great piece of mastery for a man to practise it.

Thou sayest that thou canst not pray thus devoutly, nor so
perfectly in heart as I speak of; for when thou wouldst have thy
mind upward to God in thy prayer, thou feelest so many vain
thoughts, either concerning thy own business or other men's, with
many other lets and hindrances, that thou canst neither feel
savour nor rest nor devotion in thy prayers, and ofttimes the more
thou strivest to keep thy heart the further it is from thee and
the harder, and sometimes continues so from the beginning to the
end, that thou thinkest all lost that thou dost.

In answer to that which thou saidst, that I spake too high of
prayer, I grant well that I spake more than I myself can or may
do. Nevertheless I spake it for this intent that thou shouldst
know how we ought to pray; and when we cannot do so, that we
should acknowledge our weakness with all humility and God's mercy.
Our Lord Himself hath commanded us thus: Thou shalt love the Lord
thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul and with all thy
might. It is impossible for any man living to fulfil this bidding
so fully as it is said. Yet our Lord hath bidden us so, to the
intent, as St Bernard saith, that thereby we should know our
feebleness, and then humbly cry for mercy, and we shall have it.
Nevertheless I shall instruct thee in this point what to do as
well as I can.

When thou goest about to pray, first make and frame betwixt thee
and God in thy mind a full purpose and intention in the beginning
to serve Him, then with all the powers of thy soul by thy present
prayer, and then begin and do as well as thou canst. Though thou
be never so much letted contrary to thy former purpose, be not
afraid, neither be angry at thyself, nor impatient against God,
because He giveth thee not the savour and spiritual sweetness in
devotion as thou thinkest He giveth to others. But see therein thy
own feebleness and bear it patiently, deeming it to be (as it is)
feeble and of no worth in thy own sight, with humility of spirit;
trusting also firmly in the mercy of our Lord, that he will make
it good and profitable to thee, more than thou imaginest or
feelest. For know thou well that thou art excused of thy duty, and
thou shalt be rewarded for this (as well as for any other good
work done in charity), though thy mind and intention may be not so
fully set upon it as thou wishest. Therefore do what belongs to
thee, and suffer our Lord to give what He will, and teach Him not.
Think thyself wretched and negligent, and as it were in great
fault for such things, yet for this fault and all other venials
which cannot be eschewed in this wretched life lift up thy heart
to God, acknowledging thy wretchedness, and cry God mercy, with a
good trust of forgiveness, and strive no more therewith, nor stay
any longer upon it, as if thou wouldst by main strength not feel
such wretchedness, but leave off and go to some other good
exercise, either corporal or spiritual, and resolve to do better
the next time. Though thou shouldst fall another time into the
same defect, yea, an hundred times, yea, a thousand, yet still do
as I have said, and all will be well. Moreover a soul that never
finds rest of heart in prayer, but all her life is striving with
her thoughts, and is troubled and letted with them, if she keep
her in humility and charity in other things, she shall have great
reward in heaven for her good will and endeavours.

CHAPTER II

SECTION I

Of Meditation

THOU must understand that in meditation no certain rule can be set
for every one to observe, for they are in the free gift of our
Lord, according to divers dispositions of chosen souls, and
according as we thrive in that state and in virtues, so God
increaseth our meditations, both in spiritual knowing and loving
of Him. For whoso is always alike, and at a stand in knowing of
God and spiritual things, it seemeth that he profiteth and groweth
but little in the love of God, which may be proved by the example
of the apostles, who, when at Pentecost they were filled with
burning love of the Holy Ghost, became thereby neither fools nor
dolts, but became wonderful wise, both in knowing and speaking of
God and spiritual things, as much as men could in mortal bodies.
For thus saith the Scripture: They were all filled with the Holy
Ghost, and began to speak the wonders of God;77 all which
knowledge they got by ravishing in love, through the working of
the Holy Ghost within them. Divers sorts of meditations there be
which our Lord putteth in a man's heart. Some of them shall I tell
thee of that thou mayest exercise thyself in them. In the
beginning of the conversion of such a man as hath been much
defiled with worldly or fleshly sins, commonly his thoughts are
much upon his sins with great compunction and sorrow of heart,
with great weeping and many tears humbly and busily asking mercy
and forgiveness of God for them. And if he be deeply touched in
conscience for them (for then our Lord will soon cleanse him from
them), his sins will seem ever to be in his sight, and that so
foul and so horrible, that hardly can he be able to brook or
endure himself for them; and though he confess himself never so
clearly of them, yet will he find difficulty and a fretting and
biting in his conscience about them, thinking that he hath not
confessed right. And scarce can he take any rest, or be quiet,
insomuch that his body were not able to undergo such vexation and
pain, were it not that our Lord of His mercy sometimes comforteth
him by the consideration of His Passion, and devotion wrought in
him thereto; or by some other means as He seeth good. After this
manner worketh He in some men's hearts more or less, as He will,
and this is through His great mercy, that not only will He forgive
the sin or the trespass, but will both forgive the trespass and
the pain due for it in Purgatory, for such a little pain here felt
in the remorse and biting of conscience. Also, to make a man
rightly to receive any special gift or degree of the love of God,
it behoveth that he first be scoured and cleansed by such a fire
of compunction for all his great sins before done. Of this kind of
exercise of compunction often David speaks in the Psalter, but
especially in the psalm, Miserere mei, Deus -- Have mercy on me, O
God.78

The Meditation Christ's Humanity is given freely by the Spirit,
and how it may be known to be given by Him.

And then sometime after this travail and exercise, and sometimes
together with it, such a man that hath been so defiled with sins,
or else another who, by the grace of God, hath been kept in
innocence, our Lord bestoweth on him the meditation of His
humanity, or of His birth, or of His Passion, and of the
compassion of our Lady, St Mary. When this meditation is made by
the help of the Holy Ghost, then it is right profitable and
gracious, and thou shalt know it by this token: when thou art
stirred to a meditation in God, and thy thoughts are suddenly
drawn out from all worldly and fleshly things, and thou thinkest
that thou seest in thy soul the Lord Jesus in a bodily likeness as
He was on earth, and how He was taken by the Jews and bound as a
thief, beaten and despised, scourged and judged to death, how
lowly He bore the cross upon His back, and how cruelly He was
nailed thereon; also of the crown of thorns upon His head, and of
the sharp spear that sticked Him to the heart; and thou in this
spiritual sight feelest thy heart stirred to so great compassion
and pity of thy Lord Jesus, that thou mournest and weepest, and
criest with all thy might of body and soul, wondering at the
goodness, the love, the patience, the meekness of thy Lord Jesus,
that He would, for so sinful a caitiff as thou art, suffer so much
pain; and, nevertheless, thou seest so much goodness and mercy to
be in Him that thy heart riseth up into a love and a joy and a
gladness in Him, with many sweet tears, having great trust of the
forgiveness of thy sins and the salvation of thy soul by the
virtue of this precious Passion; so that when the meditation of
Christ's Passion, or any part of His humanity is thus wrought in
thy heart by such a spiritual sight, with devout affection
answerable thereunto, know well that it is not of thy own working,
nor the feigning or working of any evil spirit, but by the grace
of the Holy Ghost. For it is an opening of the spiritual eye into
the humanity of Christ, and may be called the fleshly love of God,
as St Bernard saith, inasmuch as it is set upon the fleshly nature
of Christ, and it is right good, and a great help for the
destroying of great sins, and a good way to come to virtues, and
so after to the Contemplation of the Godhead. For a man shall not
come to the spiritual light in Contemplation of Christ's Godhead,
unless first he be exercised in imagination with bitterness and
compassion, and in stedfast thinking of His humanity. Thus St Paul
did, and therefore first he saith: I desired to know nothing among
you but Jesus Christ and Him crucified.79 As if he had said: My
knowing and my faith is only in the Passion of Christ; and
therefore he saith thus also: God forbid I should rejoice in
anything, save in the cross of Christ. Nevertheless afterward he
saith: We preach unto you Christ, the power of God and the wisdom
of God. As who should say: First I preached of the humanity and
Passion of Christ; now I preach to you of the Godhead, that Christ
is the power of God, and the endless wisdom of God.

The meditation of the Passion is often withdrawn.

But this manner of meditation a man hath not always when he would,
but only when our Lord will give it. Unto some He giveth it all
their lifetime by fits, when He visiteth them; some men being so
tender in their affections that, when they hear men speak or think
themselves of this precious Passion, their hearts melt into
devotion, and are fed and comforted thereby against all manner of
temptations of the enemy, and this is a great gift of God. To some
men He giveth it plentifully at the first, and afterwards
withdraws it for divers causes, either if a man grow proud of it
in his own eyes, or for some other sin by which he disableth
himself to receive the grace; or else our Lord withdraweth it, and
all other devotions sometimes, because He will suffer him to be
tried with temptations of the enemy, and thereby will dispose a
man to understand and feel our Lord more spiritually, for so He
saith to His disciples: It is expedient for you that I go away
from you [in my body], for except I go the Holy Ghost will not
come.80 As long as He was with them they loved Him much, but it
was fleshly according to His humanity, and therefore it was
necessary that He should withdraw His bodily presence, that the
Holy Ghost might come to them and teach them how to love Him and
know Him more spiritually, as He did at Pentecost. Right so, it is
expedient for some that our Lord withdraw a little the fleshly and
bodily image from the eye of their soul, that their heart may be
set and fixed more busily in spiritual desire and seeking of His
divinity.

SECTION II

Of divers Temptations of the Enemy, and the Remedies against them

NEVERTHELESS it behoveth a man to suffer many temptations first,
which shall befall some men often after that their comfort is
withdrawn, and that sundry ways by the malice of the enemy. As
thus: when the devil perceiveth devotion much withdrawn, that the
soul is left, as it were, naked for a time, then sendeth he to
some temptations of lust, of gluttony, and these so hot and
burning that they shall think they never felt so grievous ones in
all their life before, even when they gave themselves most to such
sins. Insomuch as they think it impossible to stand out long from
falling without help. And, therefore, have they then much sorrow
for lack of comfort and devotion which formerly they have had, and
much dread also of falling from God by such open sins. All this
the devil worketh (by God's permission) to make them repent of
their good purposes, and turn back to their former courses of
sinning. But whoso will abide, and suffer a little pain, and not
turn again to sin for anything, the hand of our Lord is full near,
and will help them right soon, for He hath much care of that man
that is in such a case, though he knoweth it not; for so saith
David in the person of our Lord: I am with him in trouble, I will
deliver him, and he shall glorify Me.81 The devil tempteth others
maliciously to spiritual sins, as to doubt of the articles of
faith, or of the Sacrament of our Lord's blessed Body. Also to
despair, or blaspheme of God or any of His saints, or to a
wearisomeness of their own life, or to bitterness against others,
or foolish melancholy and sadness, or too much fear of themselves,
of doing hurt to their healths by giving themselves so much to
serving of God. Some others, and namely solitary folks, he
frighteth with dreads and ugly shapes appearing to their eyes or
to their imaginations, causing often thereby great shakings and
quakings in their bodies, either sleeping or waking, and so
troubleth them that they can hardly take any rest. And also many
other ways he tempteth, more than I can or may say.

The remedies of temptations that come from Satan.

The remedies for such may be these. First: that they put all their
trust in our Lord Jesus Christ, and often call to mind His Passion
and the pains that He suffered for us, and that they then believe
stedfastly that all sorrows and travail which they suffer in such
temptations, which to unskilful men may seem a forsaking by God,
are indeed no such leavings or forsakings, but trials for their
good, either for cleansing of their former sins or for the great
increasing of their reward and the disposing of them for more
grace, if they will but suffer awhile and stand fast, that they
turn not again willingly to sin.

Another remedy is that they fear not, nor esteem these malicious
stirrings for sins, nor lay to heart that despair or blasphemy, or
doubtings of sacrament, or any such other, though never so ugly to
hear; for the feeling of these temptations defile the soul no more
than if they heard a hound bark or felt the biting of a flea. They
vex the soul indeed, but do not harm it, if so be a man despise
them and set them at nought, for it is not good to strive with
them, as if thou wouldst cast them out by mastery and violence,
for the more they strive with them the more they cleave to them.
And therefore they shall do well to divert their thoughts from
them as much as they can, and set them upon some business. And if
they will still hang upon them, then it is good for them that they
be not angry nor heavy through feeling of them; but with a good
trust in God bear them (like a bodily sickness and scourge of our
Lord for the cleansing of their sins as long as He pleaseth) out
of love to Him, even as He was willing to be scourged and bear His
cross for the love of them. Moreover, it is good for them to open
their minds to some wise man in the beginning, before these
temptations get rooting in their heart, and that they forsake
their own wit and judgement and follow the counsel of another. But
that they show them not unadvisedly or lightly to any unskilful or
worldly man, who never felt such temptations, for such may happily
by their unskilfulness bring a simple soul into despair.

The remedy of those temptations that seem to come from God.

Of this manner of temptations by which a man seemeth forsaken of
God, and is not, the help and comfort is this: The Lord saith by
His prophet, For a little space have I left thee, but in great
mercy will I gather thee. For a moment of indignation have I hid
my face a little while from thee, and in mercy everlasting will I
have mercy on thee.82 As if He had said, I suffered thee to be
troubled a little while, and in a point of My wrath I smote thee;
that is to say, the penance and the pain that thou sufferest here
is but a point or little prick of My wrath, in regard of the pain
of hell or of purgatory. Yet in My manifold mercies I shall gather
thee; when thou thinkest thyself forsaken, then will I of My great
mercy gather thee again to Me; for when thou esteemest thyself, as
it were, lost, then shall our Lord help thee, as Job saith: When
thou shalt think thyself consumed, thou shalt arise as the
daystar, and thou shalt have confidence.83 That is to say, when
thou art brought so low by travail into temptation that thou
despairest of help or comfort, like a forlorn man, yet stand
stiffly in hope and pray to God, and verily thou shalt suddenly
spring up as the day-star, in gladness of heart, and have a sure
trust in God.

Moreover, for the comfort of such men, that they may not despair
in temptation, the wise man saith thus of our Lord: In temptation
He walketh with him, and bringeth fear and dread upon him, and
torments him with His discipline, till He try him in his
cogitations, and may trust His soul: And He will establish him,
and make a direct way unto him, and make him glad, and will
disclose His secrets to him, and will heap upon him as treasures
knowledge of understanding and justice.84 The wise man, because he
would have not despair in temptation, to comfort them saith thus:
In temptation our Lord forsaketh not a man, but goeth with him
from the beginning to the end. For he saith first, He chooseth
him, and that is, when He draweth a man to Him by comfort of
devotion, and afterward bringeth upon him sorrow and dread and
trials, and that is when He withdraweth devotion and suffereth him
to be tempted. And he saith that He tormenteth him in tribulation
until He hath well tried him in his thoughts, and until a man will
put all his trust in Him fully, and then He bringeth him out into
the right way, and fasteneth him to Him, and gladdeneth him, and
sheweth him His secrets, and giveth him His treasure of knowing
and understanding of righteousness.

By these words may you see that these temptations or any other, be
they never so ugly, are expedient and profitable to a man that by
grace is in full will to forsake sin, if he will be willing to
suffer and abide God's will, and not turn again to sin which he
hath forsaken, for any sorrow, or pain, or dread of such
temptations; but ever stand still in travail and in prayer with
good hope. Our Lord of His endless goodness having pity and mercy
of all His creatures, when He seeth time, will put to His hand and
smite down the devil and all his power, and ease him of his
travail, and put away all dreads and sorrows and darkness out of
his heart, and brings into his soul the light of grace, opening
the eye thereof to see, that all the travail that he hath had was
expedient for him, giving him also fresh spiritual might to
withstand all the suggestions of the fiend and all deadly sins
without great difficulty, and leadeth him into a stability and
settledness of virtue and good living; in which, if he keepeth
himself humble to the end, then will He take him wholly to
himself. Thus much have I said, that thou mightest not be troubled
or letted with any such temptation, or too much afraid; but do as
I have said, and better if thou canst, and I hope through the
grace of Jesus Christ thou shalt never be overcome by thine enemy.

Take heed of idleness after thou hast passed these temptations.

But after thou hast escaped these temptations, or else if our Lord
hath so kept thee (as He doth many by His mercy) that thou hast
not been troubled much with any such, then it is good for thee
that thou beware of turning thy rest into idleness; for there is
many a man that taketh rest upon him too soon, as if he were ripe
for rest in Contemplation. But if thou wilt do well, begin a new
game and a new travail, and that is, by meditation, to enter
within into thy own soul, for to know what it is, and by the
knowing thereof to come to the spiritual knowledge of God. For St
Austin saith, By the knowing of myself I shall get the knowledge
of God. I say not that such exercise is absolutely necessary, and
thy bounden duty, unless thou feel thyself stirred up by grace,
and as it were called thereto. For our Lord giveth divers gifts
where He pleaseth, not all to one man, nor one to every man, save
the gift of charity, which is common to all.

Therefore, if a man have received a gift from God, as devotion in
prayer, or in the Passion of Christ, or any other, be it never so
little, let him not leave it quickly for any other, unless he
assuredly find and feel a better, but hold that which he hath, and
exercise himself therein seriously, ever desiring a better when
God will give it. Nevertheless, if that be withdrawn somewhat, and
he seeth a better, and feeleth his heart stirred thereto, then
seemeth it to be a calling of our Lord to the better, and then is
it time that he follow after it, to get it, and fall to practise
it as speedily as he may.

CHAPTER III

That a Man should know the measure of his Gift, that he may desire
and take a better when God giveth it

OUR holy Fathers heretofore taught us that we should know the
measure of our gift, and therefore to work upon it, and according
to it, and not take upon us, out of our head or imagination, to
have more in our feeling or ability than indeed we have. We may
ever desire the best, but we may not ever work the best or our
utmost, because we have not yet received that grace and ability. A
hound that runneth after the hare only because he seeth other
hounds run, when he is weary, he stayeth and resteth, or turneth
home again; but if he run because he seeth or is in view of the
hare, he will not spare for weariness till he have caught her.
Right so it is in the spiritual course, whoso hath grace, be it
never so little, and wittingly leaveth it, and the working upon
it, and putteth himself to the exercise or practice of another
kind, for which he hath not as yet received a gift or grace, but
doth it only because he seeth, readeth, or heareth that some
others do so, he may perhaps run awhile till he be weary and then
will he turn home again, and if he be not the more wary, may hurt
his feet with such fancies before he get home. But he that
continueth working upon such grace as he hath, and humbly beggeth
by prayer perseverantly for more, and after feeleth his heart
stirred to follow after the grace which he desired, he may
securely run, if he keep himself humble. Therefore, desire of God
as much as thou wilt or canst, without measure or moderation at
all concerning any thing that belongs to His love or Heaven's
bliss, for he that can desire most of God shall feel and receive
most; but work as thou mayest and cry God mercy, for that thou
canst not do. Thus St Paul seems to mean, when he said: Every one
hath a proper gift of God, one so, and another so.85 Also, when he
said: There are varieties of gifts, to one is given the word of
wisdom, to another the word of knowledge,86 etc. And also when he
said: To every one of us is given grace, according to the measure
of the donation of Christ.87 And further, where he said: That we
may know the things that are given us by God. He saith that every
one hath his gift of God: For to every man that shall be saved is
given a grace according to the measure of Christ's gift. Therefore
it is speedful that we know the gifts that are given us by God,
that we may work in them, for by those we shall be saved, as some
by bodily works, and by deeds of mercy, some by great bodily
penance, some by sorrow and weeping for their sins all their
lifetime, some by preaching and teaching, some by divers graces
and gifts of devotion shall be saved and come to bliss.

PART III -- CHAPTER I

Of the Knowledge of a Man's Soul and the Powers thereof necessary
to Contemplation

THERE is one work more very needful and expedient to travail, in
which I esteem also to be the plain highway in our working (as
much as may be) to Contemplation: and that is, for a man to enter
into himself, to know his own soul88 and the powers thereof.

By this inward sight thou shalt come to see the nobility and
dignity that naturally it had in its first creation; and thou
shalt also see the wretchedness and the mischief which thou art
fallen into by sin. From this sight will arise a desire with great
longing in thine heart to recover again that dignity and nobleness
which thou hast lost. Also thou shalt feel a loathing and
detestation of thyself, with a great will and desire to destroy
and beat down thyself and all things that let thee from that
dignity and that joy. This is a spiritual work, hard and sharp in
the beginning, for those that will go speedily and seriously about
it. For it is an exercise in the soul against the ground of all
sins, little and great, which ground is nought else but a false
mistrusted love of man to himself. Out of this love, as St Austin
saith, springeth all manner of sin, deadly and venial.

Verily until this ground be well ransacked and deep digged, and as
it were dried up by casting out of all fleshly and worldly loves
and fears, a soul can never spiritually feel the burning love of
Jesus Christ nor have the homeliness of His gracious presence, nor
have a clear sight of spiritual things by light in the
understanding. This then must be the travail and labour of a man,
to draw his heart and mind from the fleshly love and liking of all
earthly creatures, from vain thoughts and from fleshly
imaginations and from the love and vicious feeling of himself, so
that the soul shall or may find or take no rest in any fleshly
thoughts or worldly affections. Then inasmuch as the soul cannot
as yet find her spiritual rest and satisfaction in the sight and
love of Jesus, therefore it must needs be that in the meanwhile
she must find and feel some pain and wearisomeness.

This pain and travail is somewhat straight and narrow,
nevertheless I hope it is the way which Christ teacheth to them
that would be His perfect lovers in the Gospel, saying: Strive to
enter in at the strait gate, for strait is the gate, and narrow is
the way that leadeth to life, and few men find it.89 How strait
this way is, He telleth us in another place: Whoso will come after
me, let him forsake himself and hate his own soul.90 That is to
say, forsake all fleshly love and hate his own carnal life and
vain liking of all his bodily senses for love of Me; and take the
cross, that is suffer the pain of this awhile and then follow Me;
that is to say, in Contemplation of My Humanity and of My
Divinity. This is a strait and narrow way that no bodily thing can
pass through it, for it is a slaying of all sin, as St Paul saith:
Mortify your members that are upon earth,91 not the members of our
body but of our soul, as uncleanness, lust, evil concupiscence,
avarice, fond love to ourselves and earthly things. Therefore as
thy endeavour has been heretofore to resist bodily sins and open
temptations of the enemy, and that in matters as it were from
without; right so it behoveth thee now, in this spiritual work
within thyself, to batter down and destroy the ground of sin in
thyself as much as thou canst. Which that thou mayest be better
able to perform, I shall give thee the best counsel I can.

CHAPTER II

Of the Worthiness and Excellency of the Soul and how it was lost

How man is the image of the Blessed Trinity

THE soul of a man is a life consisting of three powers, Memory,
Understanding and Will, after the image and likeness of the
Blessed Trinity; inasmuch as the Memory was made strong and
stedfast by the power of the Father to hold and retain God in
perpetual remembrance, without forgetting, distracting or letting
of any creature, and so it hath the likeness of the Father. The
Understanding was made bright and clear, without error or
darkness, as perfectly as a soul in a body unglorified could have,
and so it hath the likeness and image of the Son, who is infinite
wisdom. The Will and affections were made pure and clean, burning
in love towards God, without sensual love of the flesh or of any
creature by the sovereign goodness of God the Holy Ghost, and so
it hath the likeness of the Holy Ghost, which is blessed love.
Whereby you may see that man's soul (which may be called a created
Trinity) was in its natural estate replenished in its three powers
with the remembrance, sight and love of the most blessed uncreated
Trinity, which is God.

How he lost it.

This was the dignity and worth of man's soul by nature at his
first creation, which thou hadst in Adam before the first sin. But
when Adam sinned, choosing love and delight in himself and in the
creatures, he lost all his excellency and dignity, and thou, also,
in him, and fell from that Blessed Trinity into a foul, dark,
wretched trinity; that is to say, into forgetting of God and
ignorance of himself, and into a beastly love and liking of
himself, and all this he did wittingly and willingly. For, as
David saith in the Psalter: Man being in honour understood it not,
and, therefore, he lost it, and became like a beast.

Man's wretchedness by sin.

See then the wretchedness of thy soul, for as the Memory was
something established and fixed upon God, so now it hath forgotten
Him and seeketh its rest in the creatures, now in one creature and
then in another, and never can find full rest, having lost Him in
whom is full rest. So it is with the Understanding and the Will
and affections, both which were pure in spiritual favour and
sweetness but now is turned into a foul, beastly lust and liking
in itself and in the creatures and in fleshly favours, both in the
senses as in gluttony and lechery; and in the imagination, as in
pride, vain-glory and covetousness, insomuch that thou canst do no
good deed but it is defiled with vain-glory; nor canst thou easily
make use of any of thy five senses cleanly upon anything that is
pleasant, but thy heart will be taken and enflamed with a vain
lust and liking of it, which putteth out the love of God from thy
heart, so that no feeling of love or spiritual favour may come
into it.

How notwithstanding all this, man may be saved by the Passion of
Christ, be he never so wretched.

Every man that liveth in spirit understandeth well all this. This
is the soul's wretchedness and our mischief for the first man's
sin besides all other wretchedness and sins which thou hast
wilfully added thereto. And know thou well that hadst thou never
committed any sin with is thy body, either mortal or venial, but
only this which is called original (for that is the first sin, and
is nothing else but the losing of our righteousness which we were
created in), thou shouldst never have been saved, had not our Lord
Jesus Christ by His precious Passion delivered thee, and restored
thee again.

And, therefore, if thou think I have herein spoken too high,
because thou canst neither understand it well, nor practise it
according as I have delivered, I will now descend to thee, and
fall as low as thou canst desire, both for thy profit and my own.
Then say thus: though thou be never so much a wretch, and hast
committed never so great sins, do but forsake thyself and all thy
works done, both good and bad, and cry God mercy, and ask
salvation only by virtue of this precious Passion, and that with a
good trust, and without doubt thou shalt have it. And as for
original sin, and all other thou shalt be safe, yea, as safe as an
anchoret that is enclosed. And not only thou, but all Christian
souls that trust upon His Passion and humble themselves,
acknowledging their wretchedness, asking mercy and forgiveness,
and the fruit of this precious Passion only, and submitting
themselves to the Sacraments of holy Church, though it be so that
they have been encumbered with sin all their lifetime, and never
had feeling of spiritual favour or sweetness, or ghostly knowledge
of God, yet shall they in this faith, and in their good will, by
virtue of this precious Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ be safe,
and come to the bliss of Heaven.

The endless mercy of God to all sinners

All this thou knowest well, but yet it delights me to recite and
speak of it, that thou mayest see the endless mercy of our Lord,
how low He falleth to thee and to me and to all sinful caitiffs;
ask mercy therefore, and have it. Thus saith the Prophet in the
person of our Lord: Every one that calleth upon the Name of our
Lord shall be saved;92 that is to say, asketh salvation by Jesus
and His Passion.

Who shall be partakers of it, and who not.

This courtesy of our Lord some men understand aright, and are
saved thereby, and others in trust of this mercy and this courtesy
lie still in their sins, and think to have the benefit of it when
they list, but they are mistaken, for they are taken ere they are
aware, and so damn themselves.

Whether a particular love of Jesus be necessary to salvation, and
how.

But thou wilt object: If this be true that thou sayest, I wonder
greatly at that which I find in some holy men's books, for some
say (as I understand them) that he that cannot love this blessed
Name Jesus nor find and feel in it spiritual joy and delight with
sweetness, shall be a stranger to the bliss of Heaven, and never
come there. Verily when I read these words, they astonished me,
making me afraid. For I hope (as you have said) that through the
mercy of our Lord they shall be safe, by keeping of the
commandments and by true repentance for their former evil life,
who never felt any such spiritual sweetness, in the Name of Jesus,
and therefore I marvel the more, to find them say (as me thinketh)
the contrary hereto.

To this I answer that (in my opinion) their saying (if it be well
understood) is true, and no whit contrary to what I have said, for
this Name Jesus is nothing else in English but healer or health.
Now every man that liveth in this wretched life is spiritually
sick, for there is no man that liveth without sin, which is a
spiritual sickness, as St John saith of himself, and of other
perfect men thus: If we say we have no sin, we beguile ourselves,
and there is as no truth in us.93 Therefore he can never come to
the joy of Heaven, till he be first healed of this ghostly
sickness. But this spiritual healing may no man have (that hath
the use of reason) except he desire it, and love it, and have
delight therein, inasmuch as he hopeth to get it. Now the Name of
Jesus is nothing else but this spiritual health; wherefore it is
true that they say, that no man can be safe, unless he love and
like the Name of Jesus; for no man can be spiritually healed,
until he love and desire spiritual health; just as if a man were
bodily sick, there could no earthly thing be so dear, nor so
needful to him, nor so much would he desire it, as bodily health;
for though thou shouldst give him all the dignities and riches of
this world, and not make him whole (if thou couldst), thou
pleaseth him not. Right so it is to a man that is sick
spiritually, and feeleth the pain thereof; nothing is so dear, nor
so needful, nor so much coveted by him, as is ghostly health, and
that is Jesus, without whom all the joys of Heaven cannot please
him. And this is the reason (as I take it) why our Lord when He
took man's nature upon Him for our salvation, would not be called
by a name betokening His infinite essence, or His wisdom, or His
justice, but only by that which betokened the cause of His coming,
namely, the salvation of man's soul, which salvation this name
Jesus betokened. Hereby, then, it appeareth that none can be saved
unless he love salvation, to have it through the mercy of our Lord
Jesus only, by the merits of His passion; which love he may have
that liveth and dieth in the very lowest degree of charity.

Also I may affirm on the other side, that he that cannot love this
blessed name Jesus with a spiritual joy, nor increase in it with
heavenly melody here, shall never have nor feel in Heaven the
fulness of sovereign joy, which he that could so love it in this
life by abundance of perfect charity in Jesus shall then have and
feel in Heaven, and so may their saying be understood.

Nevertheless he shall be saved, and have great reward in Heaven
from God, whosoever in this life is in the lowest degree of
charity by keeping God's commandments. For our Lord saith: In My
Father's house are sundry mansions.94 Some are perfect souls, who
in this life are filled with charity and graces of the Holy
Spirit, and sing most sweetly and lovingly to God in Contemplation
of Him, with wonderful sweetness and heavenly savour. These
because they have most charity and grace of the Holy Ghost shall
have the highest reward in the bliss of heaven, for these are
called God's darlings. Others there be, not disposed or enabled to
Contemplation, nor having the perfection of charity (as the
apostles and martyrs had in the beginning of the holy Church),
these shall have a lower reward in the bliss of Heaven, for these
are called God's friends, for thus doth our Lord call them: Eat, O
My friends, and be inebriated, O My darlings.95 As if He had said:
Ye that are My friends, because ye have kept My commandments, and
preferred My love before the love of the world, and loved me more
than any earthly thing, ye shall be fed with the spiritual food of
the Bread of life. But ye that are more than My friends, that not
only kept My commandments, but also of your own free will
fulfilled My counsels, and loved Me entirely with all the powers
of your souls, and burned in My love with spiritual delight (as
especially did the apostles and martyrs and all other souls that
through grace came to the gift of perfection) ye shall be made
drunken with the noblest and freshest wine in My cellar, which is
the supreme joy of love in heaven.

CHAPTER III

SECTION I

That a Man should be industrious to recover again his ancient
Dignity and reform within him the Image of the Trinity, and how it
may be done

This mercy not to be presumed upon.

NEVERTHELESS, though this that I have said be true, through the
endless mercy of God to thee and to me and to all mankind we are
not, therefore, in confidence hereof to be more careless, or
wilfully negligent in our living; but the more busy to please Him,
and the rather, because now we are restored again in hope by the
passion of our Lord, to the dignity and bliss which we had lost by
Adam's sin. Though we should prove not to be able to recover it
fully here in this life, yet should we desire and endeavour to
recover the image and likeness of the dignity we had, so that our
soul might be reformed, as it were in a shadow, by grace to the
image of the Trinity which we had by nature, and hereafter shall
have fully in bliss. For that is the life which is truly
contemplative to begin here, in that feeling of love and spiritual
knowing of God, by opening of the spiritual eye, which shall never
be lost nor taken away, but shall be perfected in a far higher
manner in heaven. Thus did our Lord promise to St Mary Magdalen
(that was a true Contemplative) when He told her that she had
chosen the better part (which was the love of God in
Contemplation) that should never be taken from her.96

This image is not restored perfectly in this life.

I do not say that in this life thou canst recover so whole and so
perfect a cleanness and innocency, knowing and loving of God, as
thou hadst at first, and shalt have hereafter, neither mayest
escape all the wretchedness and pains of sin; nor that thou living
in mortal flesh canst wholly destroy and kill within thee all
false vain loves, nor eschew all venial sins, but that they will
(unless they be stopped by great fervour of charity) spring out of
thy heart, as water doth out of a stinking well. But I wish that
if thou canst not fully quench it, yet thou mayest somewhat slack
it, and come as near as thou canst to cleanness of soul. For our
Lord promised to the children of Israel, when He led them into the
land of Promise, and in them by a figure to all Christians,
saying: All the land which thy foot shall tread upon shall be
thine.97 That is to say, so much land as thou canst tread upon
with thy foot of true desire, so much shalt thou have in the land
of Promise, namely, in the bliss of Heaven, when thou comest
thither.

SECTION II

That this Dignity and Image is restored by Jesus, and how He is to
be desired, sought and found

How Jesus is to be sought.

SEEK, then, that which thou hast lost, that thou mayest find it;
for well I wot, whosoever once hath an inward sight, but a little
of that dignity and that spiritual fairness which a soul hath by
creation, and shall have again by grace, he will loathe in his
heart all the bliss, the liking and the fairness of this world, as
the stink of carrion; and he will never have any will or mind to
do other deed, night or day (save what mere need of nature
requireth) but desire, mourn, seek, and pray how he may come again
thereto.

By desiring Him.

Nevertheless inasmuch as thou hast not as yet seen what it is
fully, for thy spiritual eye is not yet opened, I shall tell thee
one word for all, in the which thou shalt seek, desire and find
it; for in that one word is all that thou hast lost. This word is
Jesus: I mean not this word Jesus painted upon the wall, as
written in letters on the book, or formed by lips in sound of the
mouth, or framed in thy mind by imagination, for in this wise may
a man that is void of charity find Him; but I mean Jesus Christ,
that blessed Person, God and Man, Son of the Virgin Mary, whom
this name betokeneth; that is all goodness, endless wisdom, love
and sweetness, thy joy, thy glory, and thy everlasting bliss, thy
God, thy Lord, and thy salvation.

If, then, thou feelest a great desire in thy heart to Jesus,
either by calling to mind this name Jesus, or by minding, or
thinking, or saying of any other word; or in Prayer, or
Meditation, or any other deed which thou dost; which desire is so
much, that it putteth out, as it were, by force all other thoughts
and desires of the world, and of the flesh, that they rest not in
thy heart; then seekest thou well thy Lord Jesus. And when thou
feelest this desire to God, or to Jesus (for it is all one),
holpen and comforted by a ghostly might, insomuch that it is
turned into love, affection, and spiritual savour and sweetness,
into light and knowing of truth, so that for the time, the point
of thy thought is set upon no other created thing, nor feeleth any
stirring of vainglory, nor of self-love, nor any other evil
affection (for they cannot appear at that time), but this thy
desire is only enclosed, rested, softened, suppled, and anointed
in Jesus, then hast thou found somewhat of Jesus; I mean not Him
as He is, but a shadow of Him; for the better that thou findest
Him, the more shalt thou desire Him. Then observe by what manner
of prayer, or meditation, or exercise of devotion thou findest
greatest and purest desire stirred up in thee to Him, and most
feeling of Him, by that kind of prayer, exercise or work seekest
thou Him best, and shalt best find Him. Therefore if it come into
thy mind, asking as it were of thyself: What has thou lost, and
what seekest thou? lift up thy mind and the desire of thy heart to
Jesus Christ, though thou be blind, and canst see nought of His
Godhead, and say that: Him hast thou lost, and Him wouldst thou
have, and nothing but Him, to be with Him where His is. No other
joy, no other bliss in Heaven or in earth, but Him.

And though it be so, that thou feelest Him in devotion, or in
knowing, or by any other gift or grace, rest not there, as though
thou hadst fully found Jesus; but forget that which thou hast
found, and always be desiring after Jesus more and more, to find
Him better, as though thou hadst right nought found in Him. For
wot thou well, that what thou feelest of Him, be it never so much,
yea, though thou wert ravished with St Paul into the third heaven,
yet hast thou not found Jesus as He is in His joy, know thou, or
feel thou never so much of Him, He is still above it. And
therefore, if thou wilt fully find Him, as He is in His joy, do
thou never cease from spiritual desiring and loving of Him, whilst
thou livest.

What profit it is to have the desire of Jesus

Verily I had rather feel and have a true an; clean desire in my
heart to my Lord Jesus Christ, though I see little of Him With my
spiritual eye, than to have without this desire all the bodily
penance of all men living, all visions, all revelations of Angels
appearing, all songs and sounding to the ear, all tastes and
smellings, fervours or any delights, or bodily feelings, and (to
be brief) all the joys of heaven and earth which are possible to
be had, without this desire to my Lord Jesus. David the Prophet
felt (as I conceive) this desire in himself, when he said thus:
What have I in Heaven but Thee, and what can I desire on earth
besides Thee?98 As if he had said, Lord Jesus, what heavenly joy
is liking to me without desire of Thee, whilst I am on earth, or
without love of Thee when I come to Heaven? As who should say,
right none. If, then, thou wilt feel anything of Him, bodily or
spiritually, covet nothing but only to feel in truth within thee a
desire of His grace and of His merciful presence, so that thou
mayest think that it is not possible for thy heart to find any
rest in anything but in Him. Thus coveted David, when he said
thus: My soul hath coveted, or longed after, the desire of thy
righteousness at all times.99 Seek, then, as David did, desire by
desire. And if thou feelest, by thy desire in prayers and in
meditations, the familiar presence of Jesus Christ in thy soul,
bind thy heart fast thereto, that it fall not from it; and if thou
shouldst stumble, that thou mayest soon find Him again.

Jesus desires to be sought and found.

Seek, then, Jesus, whom thou hast lost, for He would be sought,
and is desirous to be found, for He Himself saith: Every one that
seeketh findeth.100 The seeking is painful, but the finding is
joyful; do, therefore, after the counsel of the wise man, if thou
wilt find Him: If thou shalt seek wisdom (that is Jesus) like
silver, and as treasures shalt dig her up, then shalt thou
understand the fear of our Lord, and shalt find the knowledge of
God.101 It behoveth thee to delve deep in thy heart, for therein
Jesus is hid, and cast out perfectly all loves and likings,
sorrows and fears of all earthly things, and so shalt thou find
wisdom, that is Jesus.

Two lanthorns to find Jesus by. 1. His Word. 2. Reason.

Be thou, then, like the woman in the Gospel, of whom our Lord
saith: What woman is there, that hath lost her groat and doth not
light a candle, and turn her house upside down, and seek till she
finds it?102 As who should say, there is none but would do so. And
when she hath found it, she calleth to her friends, and saith to
them thus: Make mirth with me and melody, for I have found my
groat which I had lost. This groat is Jesus which thou hast lost,
and if thou wilt find Him, light up a lanthorn, that is God's
Word, as David saith: Thy Word is a lanthorn to my feet.103 By
this lanthorn shalt thou see where He is, and how to find Him. And
if thou wilt, thou mayest together with this, light up another
lanthorn, that is the reason of thy soul. For as our Lord saith:
The lanthorn (or light) of thy body is thy bodily eye.104 Right so
may it be said, that the lanthorn of thy soul is reason, by the
which thy soul may see all spiritual things. By this lanthorn
mayest thou find Jesus, that is if thou hold up this lanthorn from
underneath the bushel, as our Lord saith: No man lighteth a
(candle or) lanthorn to set it under a bushel, but upon a
candlestick.105 That is to say, thy reason must not be overlaid
with earthly business, or vain thoughts, and earthly affections,
but always upwards, above all vain thoughts and earthly things as
much as thou canst. If thou do so, thou shalt see all the dust,
all the filth and small motes106 in thy house (for He is light
itself), that is to say, all fleshly loves and fears in thy soul.
I mean not perfectly all; for as David saith: Who knoweth all his
trespasses?107 As who should say, no man. And thou shalt cast out
of thy heart all such sins, and sweep thy soul clean with the
besom of the fear of God, and wash it with thy tears, and so shalt
thou find thy groat, Jesus; He is thy groat, thy penny, thy
heritage.

He must be sought with some pains.

This groat will not be found so easily as 'tis thought, for this
work is not of one hour nor of one day, but many days and years,
with much sweat and labour of body108 and travail of soul. And if
thou cease not, but seek busily, sigh and sorrow deeply, mourn
stilly,109 and stoop low, till thine eyes water for anguish and
for pain, for that thou hast lost thy treasure Jesus, at the last
(when His will is) well shalt thou find thy groat Jesus. When thou
hast found Him, as I have said, that is when in purity of
conscience feelest the familiar and peaceful presence of that
blessed man Jesus Christ, at least a shadow or glimmering of Him;
thou mayest, if thou wilt, call all thy friends to thee to make
mirth with thee and melody, for that thou hast found thy groat
Jesus.

In what place Jesus is lost and found, and God's mercy manifested
herein.

See then the mercy and courtesy of Jesus. Thou hast lost Him, but
where? Soothly in thy house, that is to say, in thy soul, that if
thou hadst lost all thy reason of thy soul by its first sin, thou
shouldst never have found Him again; but He left thee thy reason,
and so He is still in thy soul, and never is quite lost out of it.

Nevertheless thou art never the nearer Him till thou hast found
Him. He is in thee, though He be lost from thee; but thou art not
in Him till thou hast found Him. This is His mercy also, that He
would suffer Himself to be lost only there, where He may be found,
so that thou needest not run to Rome, nor to Jerusalem to seek Him
there, but turn thy thoughts into thy own soul where He is hid, as
the Prophet saith: Truly thou art the hidden God,110 hid in thy
soul, and seek Him there. Thus saith He Himself in the Gospel: The
Kingdom of Heaven is likened to a treasure hid in the field, the
which when a man findeth, for joy thereof, he goeth and selleth
all that he hath, and buyeth that field.111 Jesus is a treasure
hid in the soul. Then if thou couldst find Him in thy soul, and
thy soul in Him, I am sure for joy thereof thou wouldst part with
the liking of all earthly things to have Him. Jesus sleepeth in
thy heart spiritually, as He did sometime bodily when He was in
the ship with His disciples; but they, for fear of perishing,
wakened Him, and soon after He saved them from a tempest. Do thou
so, stir Him up by prayer, and waken Him with great crying of
desire, and He will soon rise and help thee.

We ourselves are the lets and hindrances of finding Him.

Nevertheless I believe thou sleepest oftener to Him than He doth
to thee; for He calleth thee full oft with His sweet, secret
voice, and stirreth thy heart full stilly, that thou shouldst
leave all other jangling of other vanities in thy soul, and
hearken only to Him. Thus saith David in the person of our Lord:
Hear, O daughter, and consider; incline thine ear, and forget thy
own people and thy father's house.112 That is, forget the people
of thy worldly thoughts, and the house of thy fleshly and natural
affections. Here thou seest how our Lord calleth thee, and all
others that will hearken to Him. And what hindereth thee that thou
canst neither see nor hear Him? Soothly there is so much din and
noise in thy heart of vain thoughts and fleshly desires, that thou
canst neither hear Him nor see Him? Therefore put away those
unquiet noises, and destroy the love of sin and vanity, and bring
into thy heart the love of virtues and full charity, and then
shalt thou hear thy Lord speak to thee.

Humility and charity are the special liveries of Jesus.

As long as Jesus findeth not His image reformed in thee, He is
strange, and the farther from thee; therefore frame and shape
thyself to be arrayed in His likeness, that is in humility and
charity, which are His liveries, and then will He know thee, and
familiarly come to thee, and acquaint thee with His secrets. Thus
saith He to His disciples: Whoso loveth Me, he shall be loved of
My Father, and I will manifest Myself unto him.113 There is not
any virtue nor any good work that can make thee like to our Lord
without humility and charity, for these two above all others are
most acceptable to Him, which appeareth plainly in the gospel,
where our Lord speaketh of humility thus: Learn of Me, for I am
meek and humble in heart.114 He saith not, Learn of me to go
barefoot, or to go into the desert, and there to fast forty days,
nor yet to choose to yourselves disciples (as I did), but learn of
Me meekness, for I am meek and lowly in heart. Also of charity He
saith thus: This is My commandment, that ye love one another as I
loved you, for by that men shall know you for My disciples.115 Not
that you work miracles, or cast out devils, or preach, or teach,
but that each one of you love one another in charity. If therefore
thou wilt be like Him, have humility and charity, Now thou knowest
what charity is, namely, To love thy neighbour as thyself.

CHAPTER IV

SECTION I

Of the Ground and Image of Sin in us, which is first to be found
out and laboured against, and how it is to be done

THOU hast heard already what thy soul is, and what dignity and
beauty it had, and how it lost it, and also how it may by grace
and busy travail be somewhat recovered again, in feeling, in part
in this life. Now I shall tell thee (according to my feeble
ability) how thou mayest enter into thyself to see the ground of
sin, and destroy it as much as thou canst, and so recover a part
of thy soul's dignity.

How we should behold this image.

To do this thou shalt cease for a time from all bodily works, and
from all outward business as much as thou canst, then shalt thou
draw thy whole thought into thyself from all thy bodily senses,
which thou must hold in and restrain from wandering forth, so that
thou take no heed of anything thou seest or hearest or feelest,
and after this draw in thy thoughts nearer from all imaginations
of any bodily deeds done before by thee, or of any other men's
deeds; and this is not difficult to be done at that time when thou
hast devotion, but thou must do it also when thou hast no such
devotion, and then it will be somewhat difficult. And set thy
intent and full purpose, as if thou wouldst not seek nor find
anything but only the grace and spiritual presence of Jesus.

This will be painful; for vain thoughts will press into thy heart
very thick, to draw thy mind down to them. And in doing thus thou
shalt find somewhat, but not Jesus whom thou seekest, but only a
naked remembrance of His name. But what then shalt thou find.
Surely this: a dark and ill-favoured image of thy own soul, which
hath neither light of knowledge nor feeling of love of God. This
image, if thou behold it heedfully, is all inwrapped and clothed
with black stinking rags of sin, as pride, envy, anger,
covetousness, gluttony, sloth and luxury. This is not the image of
Jesus, but the image of sin, which St Paul calleth a body of sin
and of death.116 This image and this black shadow thou bearest
about with thee wheresoever thou goest; out of this spring many
great streams of sin, and small ones also. Just as out of the
image of Jesus, if it be reformed in the beams of spiritual light
will spring and ascend up towards heaven burning desires, pure
affections, wise thoughts and all comeliness of virtues. Even so
out of this image spring stirrings of pride, of envy and such
other, which cast thee down from the comeliness of a man into a
beast's likeness.

What this image is like.

Peradventure now thou beginnest to think with thyself what this
image is like, and that thou shouldst not study much upon it, I
will tell thee. It is like no bodily thing. What is it then,
sayest thou? Verily it is nought, or no real thing, as thou shalt
find, if thou try by doing as I have spoken; that is, draw in thy
thoughts into thyself from all bodily things, and then shalt thou
find right nought wherein thy soul may rest.

This nothing is nought else but darkness of conscience, and a
lacking of the love of God and of light; as sin is nought but a
want of good, if it were so that the ground of sin was much abated
and dried up in thee, and thy soul was reformed right to the image
of Jesus; then if thou didst draw into thyself thy heart, thou
shouldst not find this nought, but thou shouldst find Jesus; not
only the naked remembrance of this name, but Jesus Christ in thy
soul readily teaching thee; thou shouldst there find light of
understanding and no darkness of ignorance, a love and liking of
Him, and no pain of bitterness, heaviness or tediousness of Him.
But because thou art not reformed, therefore when thy soul draweth
into herself from all bodily things and delights, thou findest
nothing but emptiness, darkness and heaviness; so that thou
thinkest it an hundred years till thou be out again to some bodily
delight or vain thoughts, and it is no wonder; for he that cometh
home to his house, and findeth nothing but stink and smoke, and a
chiding wife, he will quickly run out of it. Even so thy soul,
finding no comfort in itself, but black smoke of spiritual
blindness, or great chiding of guilty or fleshly thoughts, crying
upon thee that thou canst not be in peace, verily it will quickly
be weary of being alone and recollected, until it be out again.
And this is the darkness of conscience.

He that will find Jesus must take pains about this dark image of
sin.

Nevertheless, in this dark conscience it behoves him to labour and
sweat; that is to say, it behoveth thee to draw thy thoughts into
thyself from all bodily things as much as thou canst, and then
when thou findest right nought but sorrow and pain, and blindness
in this darkness, if thou wilt find Jesus, thou must suffer the
pain of this dark conscience, and abide awhile therein. And here
also thou must beware that thou take Jesus Christ into thy
thoughts against this darkness in thy mind, by busy prayer and
fervent desire to God, not setting the point of thy thoughts on
that aforesaid nought, but on Jesus Christ whom thou desirest.
Think stiffly on His Passion and on His humility, and through His
might thou shalt arise. Do as if thou wouldst beat down this dark
image, and go through-stitch with it. Thou shalt hate and
loathe117 this darkness, and this nought, just as the devil, and
thou shalt despise and all to break it.118 For within this nought
is Jesus hid in His joy, whom thou shalt not find with all thy
seeking, unless thou pass this darkness of conscience.

This is the ghostly travail I spake of, and the cause of all this
writing is to stir thee thereto, if thou have grace. This darkness
of conscience and this nought is the image of the first Adam. St
Paul knew it well, for he said thus of it: As we have before borne
the image of the earthly man, that is the first Adam, right so
that we might now bear the image of the heavenly man, which is
Jesus, the second Adam. St Paul bore this image oft full heavily,
for it was so cumbersome to him that he cried out of it, saying
thus: O who shall Deliver me from this body and this image of
death?119 And then he comforted himself and others also thus: The
grace of God through Jesus Christ.

SECTION II

What the said Image of sin is, properly, and what cometh out of it

I HAVE already told thee of this image, that it is nought,
Nevertheless, if thou canst not understand how this should be an
image, seeing nought can be nothing else but nought, and so for
all my telling thou canst make nothing of it, I shall therefore
tell thee more plainly of this image as methinketh.

Seven Rivers springing out of this Image.

This image is a false inordinate love of thyself. Out of this
there come all manner of sins by seven rivers, Which are these:
pride, envy, anger, sloth, covetousness, gluttony and lechery. Lo,
this is somewhat that thou mayest understand. By some one of these
rivers runneth out all manner of sin, and putteth thee out of the
state of charity, if it be a deadly sin; or letteth the fervour of
thy charity if it be venial. Now mayest thou grope120 at least
that this image is not altogether nought; but it is much of bad,
for it is a great spring of love unto thyself, with such rivers as
I have said.

But now, sayest thou, how can this be true? For I have forsaken
the world, and am shut up in a monastery; I meddle with no man, I
chide not, I strive not, I neither buy nor sell, I have no worldly
business, but by the mercy of God keep myself chaste, and withhold
me from delights. And, besides this, I pray, I watch, I labour
bodily and ghostly, as well as I can; how should this image then
be so much in me as thou speakest of?

The spring of all these Rivers is within.

To this I answer, granting thee that I hope thou dost all these
works and more; and yet may it be true as I say. Thou art busy to
thy power to stop these rivers without, but the spring within
perhaps thou leavest whole. Thou art like to a man which had in
his yard a stinking well, with many runnings from it, who went and
stopped the runnings, and left the spring whole, and thought all
was well; but the water sprang up at the ground of the well, and
stood still insomuch that it corrupted all the fairness of his
garden, and yet did no water run out. Right so may it be with
thee, if it be so that thou hast by grace stopped the rivers of
this image without, so far that all is done well, but beware of
the spring within; surely unless thou stop and cleanse that as
much as thou canst, it will corrupt all the flowers of the garden
of thy soul, show they never so fair outwardly in sight of men.

How a man may know whether the spring be stopped.

But now, sayest thou, whereby shall I know that the ground is
stopped, if I go about it? As to this I shall tell thee, how by
trying and experience thou shalt know this image if it be in thee,
and how much it is in thee, and thereby shalt thou know how much
it is stopped in thee, and how little also. And inasmuch as pride
is the principal river, I shall begin with it.

CHAPTER V

SECTION I

Of the Seven Deadly Sins, and first of Pride, what it is, and when
it is a deadly Sin and when but venial

PRIDE is nothing else (as the learned say) but love of thy own
excellency, that is, of thy own worship. The more thou lovest and
likest thine own honour, the more thou hast of this pride; the
more thou hast of this image in thee. If thou feel in thy heart a
stirring of pride, that thou art holier, wiser, better and more
virtuous than others, that God hath given thee grace to serve Him
better than others do, and thinkest all others beneath thee, and
thyself above them, or any other thought of thyself, which showeth
to the eye of thy soul an excellency and a surpassing of others,
and thou feelest a love and delight in this stirring, and a vain
pleasing in thyself, that indeed thou art so; this is a token that
thou bearest this black image, which, though it be privy from the
eyes of men, yet it appeareth openly in God's sight.

But thou sayest that thou canst not eschew such stirrings of
pride, for oft thou feelest them against thy will, and therefore
thou holdest them no sin; or, if they be sin, they be nought but
venial.

As to this, I answer that the feeling of these stirrings of pride,
or of any other sin, which spring either out of the corruption of
this foul image or by incasting or suggestion of the enemy, is no
sin so far as to the feeling of them. Nevertheless, when by
negligence and thy own blindness this feeling is received unwarily
in thy thoughts, and turned into love and liking, then is there
sin in it more or less according to the measure of this love,
sometime venial and sometime deadly.

The privilege that Christians have in relation to concupiscence
and the stirrings of sin.

This is a grace and privilege by virtue of Christ's passion
granted to all Christians baptized in water and the Holy Ghost.
For verily to Jews and Saracens, who believe not in Jesus Christ,
all such stirrings are deadly sins. For St Paul saith: Whatsoever
is done without faith in Christ is sin. But we Christians have
this privilege through His mercy, that such feelings are no sins,
but the pain of original sin.

When the stirrings of Pride are mortal.

But when it is venial and when it is deadly I cannot fully tell
thee; nevertheless, a little I shall say, as methinketh. When the
stirrings of pride are received and turned into liking, so far
that the heart chooseth them for a full rest and a full delight,
and seeketh no other end, but only the liking therein, then is
this pride deadly sin; for he maketh and chooseth this delight as
his god, without any opposing of his reason or will, and therefore
it is deadly sin.

But now, sayest thou, who is such a fool as to choose pride for
his God? No man living, sure, will do so. To this I answer that I
cannot tell thee in special who sinneth deadly in pride. But in
general I shall say that there be two sorts of pride, one bodily
and the other spiritual. Bodily pride is of fleshly living men;
spiritual is of hypocrites and heretics. These three sin deadly in
pride; I mean such fleshly living men as St Paul speaks of: If ye
live after the flesh, ye shall die.121 Then say I thus: That a
worldly man who loveth and seeketh principally the worship of
himself, and chooseth the liking of it as the rest of his heart,
and the end of his bliss, he sinneth deadly.

And when venial.

But now thou wilt say: Who doth choose the love of his worship,
credit or honour, instead of his God; I answer, that he that
loveth his worship, as for to seem better and greater of estate
than any other, and travaileth about it as much as he can; if he
love it so much that for the getting, or keeping, or the saving of
it, he breaketh the commandment of God, or breaketh love and
charity to his neighbour, or is ready, or in full will to break it
rather than he would forbear his worship, or lose anything of it,
either in his name, or in his estate, or of fulfilling his will;
soothly he sinneth deadly, for he loveth his worship, and chooseth
it more than the love of God and of his neighbour. And
nevertheless, the man that sinneth thus deadly will say with his
mouth that he will not choose pride for his god, but he beguileth
himself, for he chooseth it for his god in his deeds.

And in whom.

Nevertheless, another worldly man that loveth his own worship and
pursueth after it, if he love it not so much, that he would not
for the getting or the saving of it do a deadly sin, or break
charity to his neighbour, he sinneth not deadly but venially, more
or less according to the measure of his love and of his liking,
with other circumstances.

But a man or woman that disposeth himself or herself, to live
contemplatively, if it be so that he forsake himself as to his own
will, and offer up himself wholly to God with a full general will,
that he will not sin in pride wittingly, nor have any joy in
himself wilfully, but only in God, as far as he can, and may; and
notwithstanding after this full will offered up to God, feeleth
many stirrings of vain-glory, and delighteth in them for the time
(because at the first he did not so well perceive them), this
liking is but venial sin, and, namely, if it be so, that when he
cometh to himself he reproveth himself, and withstandeth this
stirring with displeasure of his will, and asketh mercy and help
of God; then the liking which before was some sin, our Lord of his
mercy soon forgiveth it; and moreover he shall have reward122 for
his good travail in withstanding it.

Who are God's special servants.

And this is a courtesy of our Lord, granted to all those who are
specially His servants and domestics123 of His court, as are all
those that for His love forsake, with a good true will, all
worldly and all fleshly sin, and give themselves wholly both body
and soul unto His service, with all their might and cunning, as do
truly Anchorites enclosed, and all truly religious persons, who
for the love of God and salvation of their own souls enter into
any religious order approved by holy Church. Or else, if it be so,
that they enter first for worldly respects, or for their bodily
sustenance, or some other such; if they repent them and turn it
into a spiritual respect, as for the service of God; these as long
as they keep this will and pursue it as well as their frailty will
permit, are true religious persons.

Also, what man or woman soever he be; in what degree soever he
liveth in holy Church, priest, clerk or layman, widow, maid or
wife that will for the love of God and salvation of his, or her,
own soul forsake all the worships and likings of this world, in
the world, in his or her heart truly and fully betwixt God and
themselves, and all unnecessary business and earthly things, even
to what they have bare need of, and offer up their will entirely
to be His servants, in the constant exercise of devout prayers and
holy thoughts, with other good deeds that they may do bodily and
ghostly, and keep their will whole to God stedfastly, all such are
God's special servants in holy Church. And for this good will and
good purpose that they have by the gift of God, they shall
increase in grace and in charity here all their life long; and
they shall have for this special will a special reward in the
bliss of heaven above other chosen souls, who offered not wholly
their will and their body to God's service, neither openly nor
privately as they did. All these, whom I call God's servants, and
of His court more specially, if they, through frailty and
ignorance, when they feel such stirrings of vainglory, for the
time delight therein, and perceive not that they do so, for that
their reason and senses are letted through that liking which they
feel, so that they cannot so well see those stirrings, they sin
not deadly in this liking of vainglory. For that will that they
have in general set in their heart before, to please God, and to
forsake all manner of sin, if they knew it, keepeth them here,
that they sin not deadly in such stirrings, and in all other that
come of frailty, and will keep them still as long as the ground of
that will is kept whole.

How divers states in Holy Church shall have divers rewards in
Heaven.

I say moreover for thy comfort, and for the comfort of all others
who live in the state of Anchorets enclosed, and also by God's
grace, for the comfort of all them that enter into any religious
order approved in holy Church, that all those who through the
mercy of God among them shall be saved, shall have a special
reward, and a singular worship in the bliss of heaven; for their
state of living before other souls that had not that state in holy
Church, though they were never so holy; which worship is better
than all the worship of this world without comparison; for if thou
couldst see what it is, thou wouldst not for the worship of this
world, if thou mightest have it without sin, change thy state
either of Anchoret or of religious, neither lose that singular
reward in heaven, which reward is called the Accidental Reward.

There be two special Rewards in Heaven. The Sovereign or
Essential.

Nevertheless, that other men may not mistake this that I say,
therefore I shall say it more plainly. Thou shalt understand that
there be two rewards in the bliss of heaven, which our Lord giveth
to chosen souls. The one is Sovereign and Principal, and is called
the Essential Reward, and that is the knowing and loving of God
according to the measure of charity given by God to the soul while
she lived here in mortal body. This reward is best and Sovereign,
for it is God Himself, and is common to all the souls that shall
be saved, in what state or degree soever they live in holy Church,
more or less according to the quantity and the muchness of their
charity in this life, what degree soever they live in. For he that
loveth God by charity most shall have most reward in the bliss of
heaven for he shall there love God and know Him most and that is
the Sovereign, or Essential reward, and according to this reward
it may and shall fall out, that some manner of man or woman, as a
lord or a lady, knight or esquire, merchant or ploughman, or what
degree he be, in man or Yeoman may and shall have more reward than
some priest or friar, monk or canon, or Anchoret enclosed. And why
so? Soothly, because he loved God more in charity.

The secondary or accidental.

Another reward there is that is Secondary, or Accidental, which
our Lord giveth for special good deeds, which a man doth
voluntarily, over that he is bound to do. Of these deeds three
principal ones the Doctors of holy Church do make mention of,
namely, Martyrdom, Preaching and Virginity.124 These works,
inasmuch as they pass all others in excellency, shall have a
special reward, which is called an Aureola, which is nought else
but a singular worship and a special token ordained by God for
reward of that special deed they did above others, over and above
that Sovereign or Essential reward of the love of God which is
common to him and to all others. Right so it is of all other
special good deeds, which, if they be done sincerely, are
specially acceptable in the sight of God, and in the judgement of
holy Church are very excellent, as are the enclosing of Anchorets,
done by the authority of holy Church, also entering into religion
approved, and the stricter that the religion is, the more
excellent is the deed in the judgement of holy Church.

Also after these, and beneath these, are the taking of the order
of Priest, either for cure of men's souls, and to minister the
Sacraments of holy Church, or else for singular Devotion to please
God, and profit our neighbour, by the sacrifice of the precious
body of our Lord Jesus Christ. Soothly these are special deeds,
and declared to be excellent by the judgement of holy Church, and
in the sight of our Lord. When they are done truly for God, they
are excellent, and shall have special reward, each man in his
degree, in the bliss of Heaven. The state of Bishop and Prelate is
above all these deeds, as to the Accidental reward. That this is
so, appeareth out of holy Writ, where it saith thus in the Prophet
Daniel: But go thou until the time prefixed, and thou shalt rest
and stand in thy lot until the end of the days;125 which is to say
thus much: The Angel when he had showed Daniel the secrets of God,
he said to him thus: Go thou to the rest of this bodily death, and
thou shalt stand in thy lot as a prophet at the last day. And
verily as Daniel shall stand as a prophet at the last day of doom,
and have the worship and excellency of a prophet above the
Sovereign blessed reward of the love and sight of God, right so
shalt thou stand as an Anchoret in that lot, and a Religious in
the lot of the Religious, and so shall it be with other excellent
deeds, and have a singular worship, passing other men at the day
of doom.

SECTION II

How Pride in Heretics and in Hypocrites is deadly sin

AN heretic sinneth deadly in pride, for he chooseth his rest and
delight in his own opinion, and in his own sayings, for he
imagineth them to be true; which opinion or sayings are against
God and holy Church, and, therefore, he sinneth mortally in pride,
for he loveth himself and his own will and wit so much, that
though it be plainly against the ordinance of holy Church, he will
not leave it, but resteth thereon, as upon the truth, and so
maketh he it his god; but he beguileth himself, for God and holy
Church are so united and accorded together that whoso doth against
the one doth against both. And, therefore, he that saith he loveth
God, and keepeth His biddings, and despiseth holy Church, and
setteth at nought the laws and ordinances thereof, made by the
head and supreme thereof appointed to govern all Christians, he
lieth, for he chooseth not God, but chooseth the love of himself,
contrary to the love of God, and so sinneth mortally. And wherein
he imagineth most to please God, he most displeaseth Him; for he
is blind, and will not see.

Of this blindness and this false resting of an heretic in his own
feeling, speaketh the wise man thus: There is a way that seemeth
right to a man, and the last end of it bringeth him to endless
death.126 This way specially is called heresy: for other fleshly
sinners that sin mortally and lie therein, commonly condemn
themselves, and feel biting in conscience, because they go not the
right way; but an heretic supposeth that he doth well, and
teacheth well, yea, and that no man doth and teacheth so well as
he, and so judgeth his way to be right, and, therefore, feeleth he
no biting of conscience nor humility in heart. And, soothly, if
God of His great mercy sendeth him not humility at the last end,
he goeth to hell. And, nevertheless, yet weeneth he to have done
well and that he shall get the bliss of Heaven for his teaching.

The hypocrite sinneth mortally in pride.

The hypocrite also sinneth deadly in pride. He is an hypocrite
that chooseth vain joy in himself, as the rest and full delight of
his heart in this manner.

When a man doth many good deeds bodily and ghostly, and then is
put into his mind by the suggestion of the enemy, the beholding of
himself and those good deeds, how good, how holy he is, how worthy
in men's deem, and how high in God's sight, above other men, he
perceiveth this stirring, and receiveth it willingly, for he
judgeth it to be good, and from God, forasmuch as it is true (for
he doth these good deeds better than other menu). And when it is
received thus by consent of his will, there ariseth from it in his
heart so great a love and delight in himself, that he hath so much
grace, that for the time it ravisheth his mind out of all other
thoughts, both corporal and spiritual, and setteth it upon vain
joy in himself, as on a rest of his heart. This ravishing in
spiritual pride is delectable, and, therefore, he keepeth it,
holdeth it, and nourisheth it as much as he can. For this love and
delight he prayeth, watcheth, weareth haircloth, and doth other
afflictions, and all these trouble him but little. He pretends to
love God, and thanketh Him sometimes with his mouth; sometimes
wringeth a tear out of his eye, and then he thinketh all safe
enough. But soothly, all this is for love of himself which he
chooseth, and mistaketh for love and joy in God, and therein lies
all his sin. Not that he willingly chooseth sin, as it is sin, but
chooseth this delight and joy that he takes for good, as the rest
and repose of his soul. Which, because he doth without any
striving against it, or displeasure at it in his will, therefore
is it sin; for he judgeth it to be a joy in God, and it is not so,
and, therefore, sinneth he mortally. Job saith thus of an
hypocrite: The joy of an hypocrite is as it were for a moment. If
his pride rise up even to the heavens, and his head touch the
clouds, at the last end he shall be cast out as a dung-heap.127
The joy of an hypocrite is but a point, for if he worship himself
never so much, and joy in himself never so much, all his lifetime,
and bepaint himself with all his good deeds, in the sight and
praisings of the world, at the last it will prove right nought but
sorrow and pain.

But thou wilt say: Sure there be few or none such that are so
blind as to hold and choose vain joy in themselves for joy in God.

As to this I cannot answer, nor will, though I could; only I will
tell thee this one thing, that there be many hypocrites, and,
nevertheless, they think themselves to be none, and that there be
many that dread and fear themselves to be hypocrites, and soothly
are none; who is the one, and who is the other, God knows, and
none but He. Whoso will humbly dread, shall not be beguiled; and
whoso thinketh himself secure, he may lightly fall. For St Paul
saith: Whose esteemeth himself to be something, whereas indeed he
is nothing, he beguileth himself.128

SECTION III

A short Exhortation to Humility and Charity, with a Conclusion how
a Man may know how much Pride he hath in him

Now by what hath been said, thou mayest (if thou wilt understand
them) conceive comfort for thy degree of living, and also matter
of humility. For though it be true, that (in case thou come to
Heaven) thou shalt there receive so much reward in special, for
thy state of life; nevertheless it may be that there is many a
wife, and many a woman, living at large in the world, that shall
be nearer God than thou, and shall love God more, and know Him
better than thou, for all thy religious state, and that ought to
be a shame to thee. Yet if thou labour to get love and charity as
fully and as perfectly as those that live in the world (for thou
mayest have it by the gift of God, as much as they that live in
worldly business), then shalt thou have as much of the Sovereign
or Essential reward as they; and, moreover, shalt also have
another singular and accidental reward and worship, for thy state
of Religion which the others shall not have. If then thou wilt do
well, be humble, and forget thy state, as if it were right nought;
for in sooth it is so, that is, right nought in itself. And let
thy desire and business be to destroy sin, and to get charity, and
humility, and other ghostly virtues, for therein lieth all.

How a man may know how much pride is in him.

I have well-nigh forgotten that image I spake of, but now I turn
again thereto. If thou wilt know how much pride is therein, thou
mayest try it thus: Look to it wisely, and flatter not thyself; if
loving, praising or worshipping, or human favours of worldly men
or others, be pleasing to thy heart, and thou turnest them into
vain gladness, and well paying of thyself, thinking secretly in
thy heart, that men ought to praise thy life, and reward thy
speeches more than other men's; and also on the contrary, if it be
so, that when men reprove thee, and set thee at nought, hold thee
for a fool, or an hypocrite, or slander thee, or speak evil of
thee falsely, and in any other way disease129 thee unreasonably,
and for this thou feelest in thy heart a grievous heaviness
against them, and a great rising in thy heart, with an
unwillingness to suffer any shame or disgrace in the sight of the
world; if, I say, it be thus with thee, it is a token that there
is much pride in this dark image, seem thou never so holy in the
sight of men. For though these stirrings be but little and venial,
nevertheless they show well that there is much pride hid in the
ground of thy heart, as the fox dareth in his den. These
stirrings, with many more, spring so fast out of this image that
thou scarcely canst do any good deed but it will be mingled with
some pride or vain delight in thyself, and so with thy pride thou
defileth all thy good deeds, and makest them loathesome in the
sight of thy Lord. I say not that they are lost because they are
mingled with this pride. But I say that those good deeds are not
so pleasant to thy Lord as they would be if they were simple and
truly rooted in the virtue of humility. And, therefore, if thou
wilt have cleanness of heart, to come to the love of God, it
behoveth thee not only to fly the rest and repose of thy heart in
vain-glory, by willingly consenting to pride, and also the
wretchless liking therein out of frailty against thy will, but
also the very feeling itself of pride, as well as thou canst,
which will not be done unless thou be full quick and diligent
about the keeping of thy heart, as I shall tell thee hereafter.

CHAPTER VI

SECTION I

Of Envy and Wrath and their Branches, and how, instead of sin, the
Person is often hated

The branches of envy and wrath

TURN this image upside down, and look well therein, and thou shalt
find two members or limbs of envy and anger fastened thereto, with
several branches springing out of them, which hinder the love and
charity which thou oughtest to have toward thy neighbour. The
branches of these two sins are these: Hatred, evil suspicion,
false and rash or unskilful judging, melancholy, risings of heart
against them, despising, unkindness, and backbiting, or other ill-
speaking of them, misliking, unskilful or causeless blaming of
them, misconstruing their words or deeds, anguish and heaviness
against those that despise us, or speak any evil of us, or speak
against us, a joy or gladness at their pain, a selfness or
bitterness against sinful men and others that will not do as we
think they should do, with great desire and eagerness of heart
(under colour of charity and justice), that they were well
punished and chastised for their sin.

Such motions and stirrings as these seem good; nevertheless, if
thou ransack it well, thou shalt find it more fleshly and sensual
sometimes against the person than spiritual against the sin; for
thou shouldst love the man, be he never so sinful, and hate the
sin in every man whatever he be. Many are beguiled in this, for
they set the bitter instead of the sweet and take darkness instead
of light, contrary to the prophet, saying: Wo to you who call evil
good, and good evil; putting darkness for light, and light for
darkness; putting bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter.130 Thus
do all they who, when they should hate the sin of their neighbour
and love his person, hate the person instead of the sin, and
imagine that they hate the sin. Wherefore it is a special craft
and art by itself whoso can do it well.

SECTION II

That it is a Mastery and noble Skill to love Men's Persons, and
yet wisely to hate their sins, and how

IT is no mastery to watch and fast till thy head ache; nor to run
to Rome or Jerusalem on pilgrimage upon thy bare feet; nor for to
stir about and preach, as if thou wouldst turn all men by thy
preaching. Nor is it any mastery to build churches or chapels, or
to feed poor men and build hospitals. But it is a mastery for a
man to love his neighbour in charity, and wisely hate his sin, and
love the man. For though it be true that all those deeds before
said be good in themselves, yet are they common to good men and to
bad, for every man may do them if that he would and have
wherewith. And for thee to do that which every man may do, I hold
it no mastery; but to love thy neighbour in charity and hate his
sin can no man do, save only good men, who have it by the gift of
God and not by their own travail, as St Paul saith: Love and
charity is shed abroad in your hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is
given to you.131 And, therefore, it is more precious and more
dainty to come by. All other good deeds without this make not a
man good nor worthy of the bliss of heaven, but this alone, and
only this, maketh a man good and all his good deeds to be medeful.
All other gifts of God and works of man are common to good and
bad, to the chosen and the reprobate; but this gift of charity is
proper only to good and chosen souls.

How a man may learn this hard lesson.

And, therefore, for the learning of this hard lesson, thou must
understand and consider that a good man for the love of God
fasteth, watcheth, goeth on pilgrimage and forsaketh all the
pleasures of the world sincerely in his heart, without feigning,
and he hath his reward in heaven; and an hypocrite doth the same
deeds out of vain-glory and for love of himself, and receiveth his
reward here. Also, a true preacher of God's Word, filled with
charity and humility, sent of God and received and approved by the
Church, if he preach and teach God's Word, shall have a special
reward of God; that is the aureola for his preaching. And an
hypocrite or an heretic that hath no humility or charity, nor is
sent of God nor yet of holy Church, if they preach, they have
their reward here. Also a good man living in the world for the
love of God buildeth many churches, chapels, abbeys, hospitals and
doth other many good deeds of mercy, and he shall have his reward
in the bliss of heaven, not for the deed in itself, but for the
good will and the charity that he hath in him by the gift of God
for to do these good deeds. Another man out of vanity of himself
and worship and pleasing of the world and for his own name doth
the same good deeds, and hath his reward here. The cause in all
these is that the one hath charity and the other none; but which
is the one and which is the other, our Lord knoweth, and none but
He.

We are to have and think well of all men

From this, therefore, we are to learn these two lessons. First,
that we should love and worship all men in our hearts, and approve
and think well of and receive all their deeds that have the
likeness of goodness, though the doers be bad in the sight of God,
except they be the deeds of known and open heretics, or of open
cursed (or excommunicated) men; for of these two we are specially
to fly and eschew their company and coming amongst them. And we
are also to reprove and refuse their deeds, seem they never so
good, as long as they are rebels to God and holy Church. And if a
worldly, cursed (or excommunicated) man build a church, or feed
poor men, thou mayest safely hold and judge such his doings to be
noughts and deem them as they are. Also if an open heretic, who is
a rebel to holy Church, preach and teach, though he convert a
hundred thousand souls, thou mayest hold the deed, as to himself,
right nought; for these men are openly out of charity, without
which all is nought that a man doth.

None can truly love his neighbour but he that hath charity.

Secondly, that it is a great mastery for a man to know how and to
be able to love his neighbour in charity; all which may be plainly
proved by St Paul's words, thus: If I speak with the tongues of
men and angels, if I have not charity, I am right nought; and if I
have so great faith that I can overturn hills and bear them away,
and have not charity, I am right nought. And also, though I had
all manner of knowledge of all mysteries, and if I give all that I
have to the poor, and my body to be burnt, and have not charity,
it profiteth me right nought.132

A difficult thing to know whether we have charity. None hath
charity but he that is humble. Charity is gotten only by humility.

Here it seemeth by St Paul's words that a man may do all good
deeds bodily without charity, and that charity is nought else but
to love God and his neighbour as himself. How should, then, any
wretched caitiff upon earth, whatever he be, have any delight or
trust or security in himself for anything he doth or is able to do
with all his bodily powers or natural wit, sith all this is nought
worth without love and charity to his neighbour? And this charity
cannot be gotten by his own working, for it is the free gift of
God, sent only into an humble soul, as St Paul saith. Who then
dare be so bold as to say: I have Christ, or I am charity? Verily
no man can say it securely,133 or of a certainty, but he that is
perfectly and truly humble; other men may trow of themselves, and
hope that they be in charity by tokens; but he that is perfectly
humble feeleth it, and therefore may say it securely. Thus humble
was St Paul, and therefore said he thus of himself: Who shall
separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or
anguish, or distress,134 etc.? And he answereth himself, and
saith: I am persuaded that no creature shall be able to separate
me from the charity of God in Christ Jesus. Many men do deeds of
charity, and have no charity, as I have said. To reprove a sinner
for his sin to his amendment, in a convenient time, is a deed of
charity; but to hate the sinner instead of the sin, is against
charity. He that is verily humble can part the one from the other,
and none but he. For though a man had all moral virtues of all the
philosophers, he could not do this; he could be able to hate sin
in other men (for he hateth it in himself), but he could not be
able to love the man in charity, with all his philosophy. Also, if
a man had the knowledge of all books and divinity, and be not
withal truly humble, he shall lightly stumble and err in this
point, and take the one for the other. But humility is worthy to
receive a gift from God, which cannot be gotten or learned by
cunning of man, and therefore he that is humble can hate the sin
and truly love the man.

But now peradventure thou beginnest to be afraid for that which I
have said, that charity cannot be gotten by any work that thou
canst do; how shalt thou then do

Who is truly humble

To this I answer, that there is nothing so hard to get as charity;
this is truth, as to the getting of it by our own travail and
labour. And, on the contrary, I say that there is no gift of God
that may so lightly or easily be had as charity, for our Lord
giveth no gift so freely, nor so gladly, nor so commonly, as He
doth it. How shalt thou, then, have it, sayest thou? Be meek and
lowly in spirit and thou shalt have it; and what is lighter to be
done than to be humble? Soothingly nothing. Then it followeth that
there is nothing so lightly to be had as charity, and, therefore,
thou need not be much afraid; be humble, and have it. Thus saith
St James: Our Lord resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the
humble. Which grace is properly charity; for according to the
measure of thy humility, so shalt thou have charity. If thou have
humility imperfectly only in will, not in affection, then hast
thou imperfect charity, which indeed is good, for it sufficeth for
salvation, as David saith: Lord, with the eyes of mercy thou seest
my imperfection.135 But if thou have humility perfectly, then
shalt thou have perfect charity, and this is best. The other we
must necessarily have if we will be saved. This we should ever
desire and labour for. If thou ask me now who is perfectly humble,
I shall tell thee no more concerning humility at this time but
this: He is humble that truly knoweth himself as he is.

SECTION III

How a Man shall know how much Wrath and Envy is hid in the ground
of his Heart, and how he may know whether he loves his Enemies,
and the Examples we have thereof in our Saviour

Now turn we again to this image. If thou wilt, try how much anger
and envy is hid in thy heart, which thou feelest and perceivest
not. Look well and behold thyself wisely when such stirrings of
anger and envy against thy neighbour spring out of thy heart. The
more that thou art stirred by melancholy or wicked will against
him, the more is this image in thee. For the more thou grudgest by
impatience, either against God for any tribulation or sickness, or
other bodily disease sent by Him, or against thy neighbour, for
aught that he doth against thee, the less is the image of Jesus
reformed in thee. I say not that such grudgings or fleshly
angriness are deadly sins; but I say that they hinder the
cleanness of heart and peace of conscience, that thou canst not
have perfect charity, by the which thou shouldst come to life
Contemplative. For that end is the purpose of all my saying, that
thou shouldst not only cleanse thy heart from deadly sins, but
also from venial as much as thou canst; and that the ground of sin
might by grace of Jesus Christ be somewhat shaked in thee.

For though it be so that thou feelest no evil against thy
neighbour for a time, yet art thou not secure that the ground of
anger is quenched in thee; neither yet art thou lord and master of
the virtue of charity. For let him but touch thee a little
angrily, or by a shrewd word, and thou shalt see presently whether
thy heart be yet made whole by perfect charity. The more thou art
stirred and evil-willed against his person, the further art thou
from charity. And if thou be nothing stirred against his person,
neither by any angry carriage or gesture outwardly, nor by any
privy hate in thy heart, either to despise or judge him, or
undervalue, or set him at nought; but the more shame or villainy
he doth to thee by word or deed, the more pity and compassion thou
hast of him, as thou wouldst have of a man that were out of his
wits, and thinkest that thou canst not find in thy heart to hate
him (because love is so good in itself) but pray for him and help
him and desire his amendment, not only with thy mouth, as
hypocrites can do, but with affection of love in thy heart; then
hast thou perfect charity to thy neighbour.

To love our enemies. After the example of our Saviour.

This charity had St Stephen perfectly when he prayed for them that
stoned him to death. This charity counselled Christ to those that
would be His perfect followers when He said thus: Love your
enemies, do good to them that hate you, pray for them that
persecute you.136 And, therefore, if thou wilt be one of Christ's
followers, be like Him in this craft. Learn to love thine enemies
and sinful men, for all these are thy neighbours. Look and bethink
thee how Christ loved Judas, who was both His deadly enemy and a
sinful caitiff; how goodly Christ was to him, how benign, how
courteous, and how lowly to him whom He knew to be damnable. And
nevertheless He chose him to be His apostle, and sent him to
preach with His other apostles. He gave him power to work
miracles; He showed the same good cheer to him in word and deed as
He did to other apostles. He washed his feet, and fed him with His
precious Blood, and preached to him as He did to His other
apostles. He bewrayed him not openly (for He did it privily); He
miscalled him not, despised him not, never spake evil of him;
notwithstanding if He had done all these things, He had said
nothing but truth. Moreover, when Judas took Him, He kissed him,
and called him His friend. All this charity showed Christ unto
Judas, whom He knew to be damnable; and this He did in no way of
counterfeiting or flattering, but in reality and truth of good
love and clean charity. For though it was true that Judas was not
worthy to have any gift from God, or any sign of love for his
wickedness; nevertheless, it was worthy and seemly that our Lord
should show Himself to be that which He is, and that is love and
goodness to all His creatures, as He was to Judas. I say not that
He loved him for his sin, nor that He loved him as one of His
chosen, as He did St Peter; but He loved him inasmuch as he was
His creature, and showed him tokens of love, if he would have been
mended thereby. Follow thou His example somewhat as much as thou
canst; for though thou art shut up in a house as to thy body,
nevertheless in thy heart (where the seat of love is) thou mayest
have part in such love to thy neighbour, as I have spoken of.

Whoso thinkest himself to be in his life a perfect lover and
follower of Christ's teaching (as some men perhaps esteem
themselves to be, because they preach and teach, and are poor in
worldly goods, as Christ was) and cannot follow Christ in this
love and charity, to love their neighbours, even every man, both
good and bad, friend and foe, without feigning or flattery, or
despising him in his heart, without angriness or malicious
reproving, soothly he beguileth himself. The nearer he thinketh
himself to be to Christ's example, the further is he off; for
Christ said to them that would be His disciples, thus: This is My
bidding, that you should love one another as I have loved you.137
For if ye love as I have loved, then are ye My disciples.

How a man should love the bad as well as the good.

But now thou wilt say: How shall I love him that is bad as well
and truly as him that is good?

To this I say thus: That thou shalt love both good and bad in
charity, but not for the same cause as I shall tell how. Thou
shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. Now, thou shalt love thyself
only in God, or else for God. In God thou lovest thyself, when
thou art righteous and virtuous through grace, and lovest not
thyself but only for that righteousness and virtues that God
giveth thee, then lovest thou thyself in God, for thou lovest not
thyself, but God. Also, thou lovest thyself for God, when being in
deadly sin thou desirest to be made righteous and virtuous, for
then thou lovest not thyself as thou art (for thou art
unrighteous), but as thou wouldst be. Right so shalt thou love thy
neighbour. If he be good and righteous thou shalt love him by
charity in God only; in that he is good and righteous; for then
lovest thou God (who is goodness and righteousness) in him, and so
thou lovest him more than if he were bad or in deadly sin. As, for
example, thy enemies who hate thee, or any other of whom thou hast
full evidence they are not in grace; yet notwithstanding shalt
thou love them, not as they are, nor as good and righteous men
(for they are bad and unrighteous), but thou shalt love them for
God, that they may be good and righteous. And so shalt thou hate
nothing in them, but that thing which is contrary to
righteousness, and that is sin. This is as I understand the
doctrine of St Augustine, for to distinguish the love of the man
from the hatred of his sin, and the love of thy neighbour. He that
is humble, or desires truly to be humble, can thus love his
neighbour, and none but he.

CHAPTER VII

Of Covetousness and how a Man may know how much of it is hid in
his Heart

HEAVE up this image, and look well about it, and into it, and then
shalt thou see covetousness and love of earthly things possess a
great part of this image, though it seem little of it. Thou hast
forsaken riches and the having much of this world, and art shut up
in a cell, but hast thou cleanly forsaken the love of all this? I
fear not yet, for it is less mastery to forsake worldly goods than
to forsake the love of them. Peradventure thou hast not forsaken
thy covetousness, but only hast changed it from great things unto
small; from a pound unto a penny, and from a silver dish unto a
dish of a halfpenny. This is but a simple change; thou art no good
merchant. These examples are childish, nevertheless they signify
much more. If thou believe not what I say, put thyself upon the
trial. If thou have love and delight in the having and holding of
anything that thou hast, how mean soever it may be, with the which
love thou feedest thy heart for a time, or if thou have a desire
and yearning for to have something that thou hast not, with the
which desire thy heart is disquieted and stumbled through
unreasonable thinking of the thing, that the pure desire of virtue
and of God cannot rest therein; this is a sign that there is
covetousness in this image. And if thou wilt put thyself further
to the trial, look if anything that thou hast be taken away from
thee by violence, or by borrowing, or any other way, so that thou
canst not get it again, and for this thou art disquieted, angered,
and troubled in thine heart, both for the loss of that thing which
thou wouldst have again, and canst not; and also art stirred
against him that hath it, to strive and chide with him that may
restore it, and will not, this is a token that thou lovest worldly
goods. For thus do worldly men when their goods and riches are
taken from them; they are heavy, sorry and angry, chiding and
striving with them that have them, openly, both by word and deed.
But thou dost all this in thy heart privily, where God seeth, and
therein thou art in more default than a worldly man; for thou hast
forsaken in appearance the love of worldly things, but a worldly
man hath not so, and therefore he is excused, though he strive and
pursue for his goods by lawful means, for to have them again.

But now sayest thou, that it behoveth thee to have thy necessaries
of such things as belong unto thee, as well as a worldly man. I
grant well thereto; but thou shouldst not love it for itself, nor
have liking in the holding nor in the keeping, nor feel sorrow and
heaviness in the losing, or in the withdrawing of it. For as St
Gregory saith: As much sorrow as thou hast in losing of a thing,
so much love hast thou in the keeping of it. And therefore if so
be thy heart made whole, and thou hadst truly felt a desire of
spiritual things, and therewith hadst a true sight of the least
spiritual thing that is, thou wouldst set at nought all the love
and liking of any earthly thing, it would not cleave to thee.

For to love and have more than thou reasonably needest, only for
lust and liking, is a great fault. Also, to fix thy love upon the
thing which thou needest, for the thing itself, is a fault also,
but not so great. But to have and use that thing that thou needest
without love of it, more than nature and need requireth, without
which the thing cannot be used, is no fault.

Soothly in this point I fear that many who have taken upon them
the state and likeness of poverty are much letted and hindered in
their pursuit of the love of God; I accuse no man, nor reprove any
state, for in each state there be some good, and some otherwise;
but one thing I say to every man or woman that hath taken the
state of voluntary poverty, whether he be religious or secular, or
what degree he be in, as long as his love and his affection is
bounden and fastened, and as it were glued with the love of any
earthly thing, which he hath, or would have, he cannot have nor
feel soothfastly the clean love, and the clear sight of spiritual
things. For St Austin said to our Lord thus: Lord, he loveth Thee
but little, that loveth anything with Thee, which he loveth not
for Thee. For the more love and covetousness of any earthly thing
is with thee, the less is the love of God in thy heart. For though
it be so, that this love of earthly things putteth them not out of
charity; but if it be so much that it strangleth the love of God
and of their neighbour, verily it hindereth and letteth them from
the fervour of charity, and also from that special reward which
they should have in the bliss of heaven for perfect poverty, and
that is a great loss if thou couldst see it. For who so could
understand the spiritual reward, how good, how precious and how
worthy it is (for it is everlasting), he would not for the love of
all earthly joy, or having all earthly things (though he might
have them without sin) hinder, no, nor lessen the least reward of
the bliss of heaven, which he might have if that he would; but God
knows I speak more than I do myself. But I pray thee do thus as I
say, by the grace of God, if thou canst, or any other man that
will, for it would be a comfort to my heart (though I have it not
in myself that which I say) that I might have it in thee, or in
any other creature, which hath received more plenty of His grace
than I.

But see, now then, since covetousness, in the naked ground of it,
letteth a man or woman so much from the spiritual feeling of the
love of God, how much more, then, doth it let and cumber worldly
men and women, who by all their wits and bodily business night and
day, study and travail how they may get riches and plenty of
worldly goods? They can have no other delight but in worldly
things; nay, they will not, for they seek it not. I say no more of
them at this time; for in this writing I spake not to them. But
this I say, that if they would see, or could see what they do,
they would not do so.

CHAPTER VIII

SECTION I

Of Gluttony and how a Man shall know when he sinneth not in Eating
and Drinking, and when he sinneth venially, and when deadly

STILL mayest thou see more in this image, though it be dark,
namely, sensual love to thyself, in gluttony, sloth and lechery.
These fleshly likings make a man full beastly, and far from the
inward savour of the love of God and from the clear sight of
spiritual things. But thou wilt say that thou must needs eat and
drink and sleep, which thou canst not do without liking, therefore
thou thinkest this liking is no sin.

As unto this I say: That if in eating, drinking and other takings
of necessaries for thy body, thou observe and keep measure; which
is that thou do but what is needful for nature, and thou receivest
or admittest no further pleasure or delight in the taking, than
the nature of the thing doth needs bring with it; and all this
thou dost not of purpose to please thy sensuality, but for ghostly
delight which thou feelest in thy soul, and the upholding of thy
body in the service of God, I grant that for a truth thou then
sinnest right nought therein, but mayest well eat and sleep in
that manner as thou hast mentioned.

Soothly and without doubt I am full far from knowing how to do
better in this point, and further from doing of it, for to eat I
have by kind or nature, but to skill how to eat, I cannot but by
the grace of God. St Paul had this cunning by the grace of God, as
he saith himself thus: I am cunning in all things, through Him
that strengtheneth me; for I can hunger, and I can eat, I can with
plenty, and I can with poverty, I can do all things. St. Austin
saith thus to our Lord: Lord, thou hast taught me that I should
take meat as a medicine: hunger is a sickness of my nature, and
meat is a medicine thereof. Therefore the liking and delight that
cometh therewith, and accompanieth eating, inasmuch as it is
natural, and followeth of necessity, it is no sin; but when it
passeth into lust, and into a voluntary and sought or intended
pleasure, then it is sin.

A hard thing to distinguish the pleasure in eating from necessity.

Therefore here lieth all the mastery and skill to be able to
distinguish wisely need from lust and voluntary liking, being so
knit together that the one cometh with the other. So that it is
hard to take the one (which is the meat or drink) as need
requireth, and to reject or not to admit the other, namely, the
voluntary and willingly admitted lust and liking, which often
cometh under the colour of need.

A man may lawfully admit the pleasure felt in the taking of meat,
so he take it not for the pleasure's sake, nor make the pleasure
to be the end or cause of the taking of it; but necessity to be
the cause, and the pleasure as a thing necessarily accompanying
it; and perhaps too as a thing that makes the meat more grateful
to a weak stomach and so digestible. A general will and purpose to
love and serve God keeps us from the guilt of mortal sin in these
failings.

Nevertheless, sith it is so, that need is the ground of this, and
that need is no sin; for be a man never so holy, it behoveth him
to eat, and drink and sleep; therefore the lust and liking that
cometh under the colour of this need, and often exceedeth this
need, is the less sin. For it is true that he who chooseth lust
and the liking of his flesh, and delight in welfare of meat or
drink, as the full rest of his heart that he would never have any
other life nor other bliss, but live ever in such lust of his
flesh, if he might, it is no doubt but he sinneth deadly; for he
loveth his flesh more than God. But he that lieth in deadly sin of
pride or envy, or such other, he is so blinded by the devil, that
for the time he hath no power of his free will, and therefore he
cannot well withstand fleshly likings when they come, but falleth
down willingly to them, as a beast doth to carrion; and inasmuch
as he hath no general will before to God principally, because that
he is in deadly sin, therefore the lust of gluttony into which he
falleth easily, is to him deadly sin, for he maketh no resistance
either general or special. But another man or woman, who being in
grace or charity, hath alway a good general will to God in his
soul, whether he sleep or wake, eat or drink, or whatsoever good
deed he doth, so that it be not evil in itself; by the which will
and desire he chooseth God above all things, and had rather
forbear all things in the world, than anger his God for love of
Him. This will, though it be but general, is of so great virtue
through the grace of our Lord Jesus, that if he fall by frailty in
lust and in liking of meat and of drink, or of such other
infirmity, either by exercise, in eating too much, or too often,
or too greedily, or too lusty and delicately, or too often before
the set times of eating, it saveth and keepeth him from deadly
sin. And this is truth, as long as he is in charity in his other
works, and keepeth his general will in all that he doth; and
especially if anon after such his miscarriage he acknowledge his
own wretchedness and cry for mercy, and be in purpose specially to
withstand such fleshly lusts for the time to come. For our Lord is
good and merciful, and forgiveth right soon these venial sins and
miscarriages, or excesses about meat and drink (by reason that the
occasions of them are hardest to eschew, because of the necessity
there is of seeking and taking of them for the upholding of our
corporal lives and healths) unto an humble soul.

The ground of gluttony cannot be taken away.

And these stirrings and likings of gluttony, among all other sins,
are most excusable and least perilous. And therefore thou shalt
not rise against the ground of this sin as thou shalt against the
ground of all other sin, for the ground of this sin is only
natural need and necessity, the which thou canst not eschew,
unless thou shouldst do worse, namely, slay this need (as many
unwise persons do, by destroying their bodies or healths), whereas
they should only slay the thief and spare the true man. That is to
say, slay unreasonable lust and sensual voluntary liking, and
spare and keep natural liking and corporal ability, and they do
not so. But against all other sins thou shalt arise to destroy,
not only deadly sins and the greater venials, but also against the
ground of them by suppressing the stirrings and motions of them,
and also avoiding the occasions and motives and incentives to them
as much as thou canst; but this thou canst not do here with all
thy skill, for thou canst not live without meat and drink, but
thou mayest live without lechery or carnal pleasure if thou wilt,
and never better than when without it. And therefore thou shalt
not fly only the deeds of it (namely, the doing of any external
thing against chastity) but also thou shalt suppress and destroy
within thee all mere inward and mental desires against the virtue
of chastity (the which mental desires or thoughts are sometimes
only venial sins, and sometimes mortal); but also thou shalt
labour against the ground of the said sin, and seek to destroy the
feeling and the rising of fleshly stirrings.

The ground of sins must be destroyed by spiritual labour as well
as corporal.

But this travail and labour against the ground of lechery must be
spiritual, by prayers and spiritual virtues, and not by bodily
penance only; for wot thou well, that if thou fast and watch and
scourge thyself, and do all that thou canst, thou shalt never have
cleanness and chastity without the gift of God, and without the
grace or virtue of humility. Thou shalt sooner kill thyself, than
kill fleshly stirrings and feelings of lust and lechery, either in
thy heart or in thy flesh, by any bodily penances; but by the
grace of Jesus, in an humble soul, the ground may be much stopped
and destroyed, and the spring may be much dried, the which will
cause true chastity in body and in soul.

The same may be said of pride and of covetousness, and of such
other, for thou mayest live though thou wert not proud at all, nor
covetous, nor luxurious, and therefore thou shalt labour to
destroy the very feelings of them as much as thou canst, and so
seek to cleanse and take away the very ground of those sins. But
in gluttony it is otherwise, because the ground thereof, which is
natural appetite and need, must remain as long as thou livest,
therefore must thou only arise and fight against the unreasonable
desires of thy natural appetite therein, the which do creep in
under pretense, and by occasion of the said just and reasonable
need; smite these unreasonable stirrings, and keep the ground
whole.

SECTION II

That a Man should be busy to put away and hinder all Motions of
sin, but more busy about those of Spiritual sins than those of
Bodily

AND therefore he that riseth against the feeling of fleshly liking
in meat and drink, more fully and more sharply than against those
of pride, or covetousness, or lechery, or envy (the which because
they be more spiritual and less perceivable, seem perhaps less
evil, and are less reprehended). I say that he is half-blind, for
he seeth not his spiritual uncleannesses (as of pride and envy),
how foul they are in God's sight, for, I believe that if a man
could see with his spiritual eye how foul pride and covetousness
are in God's sight, and how contrary they are to Him, he would
more loathe a stirring of pride, and the vain liking of it; and
also he would more abhor and rise against that evil will of envy,
or anger to his neighbour than many a stirring or liking either of
gluttony or of lechery. Nevertheless, all men do not think so, for
commonly men are more shy or troubled to feel a stirring of
fleshly sin, and have for it more sorrow and heaviness than for
great likings in vain-glory or in other ghostly sins. But they are
not wise; for if they would understand the holy Scriptures and
sayings of doctors they should find it as I say, which I neither
may nor will rehearse now.

I will not excuse them that fall in the likings and delights of
gluttony and lechery, as if they sinned not; for I wot well that
all the kinds of them are sins more or less, according to the
measure of the lust and misbehaviour in the sin, and other
likings, with consideration of how far voluntary it was with other
circumstances. But my desire is, that thou mightest know and
esteem all sins according as they are, indeed, the greater to be
the greater, as are spiritual sins; and the less to be the less,
as are fleshly or sensual sins; and yet nevertheless would I have
thee to hate and fly all, both bodily and spiritual, with all thy
might. For know thou well, that fleshly desires and unreasonable
likings in meat and drink, or any likings that belong to the body,
exceeding reasonable needs, though they be not always great sins
to him that is in charity. Nevertheless, to a soul that desireth
cleanness and purity of heart, and a spiritual feeling of God,
they are full heavy, painful and bitter, and greatly to be
eschewed; for the spirit cannot feel his kindly savour within,
till the flesh hath lost his beastly savour without.

And, therefore, if thou wilt come to cleanness of heart, thou must
strive against the unreasonable stirrings of fleshly desires, but
against the ground of them thou shalt not rise; for the ground of
it is Need, as natural hunger, which thou must necessarily feel,
and must attend thereto, and satisfy it in fitting time and
manner, and help thyself against it by medicine of meat, as thou
wouldst help thyself in a reasonable manner against a bodily
sickness, that thou mayest more freely serve God both bodily and
spiritually. For know thou well, that what man or woman that shall
be occupied spiritually in thoughts, great pain or hunger wilfully
undertaken or bodily sickness or pain in the stomach, or in the
head, or in other parts of the body for want of good ruling of
themselves in too much fasting, or in any other way, will much let
the spirit, and much hinder him from the knowing and beholding of
spiritual things, unless he have much grace, and be arrived to
great abilities in the Contemplative life. For though it be true,
that bodily pain either of penance, or of sickness, or of bodily
occupation, sometime letteth not the fervour of love to God in
devotion, but oft increaseth it, yet I believe that they let the
fervour of love in Contemplation, the which may not be had nor
felt fully, but in rest and freedom of body and soul from all the
aforesaid corporal pains, wants, employments and solicitudes.

SECTION III

What Remedy a Man should use against the Faults in Eating and
Drinking

THEREFORE, thou shalt behave thyself discreetly about thy body,
yielding it necessaries reasonably, and then let God send thee
what He pleaseth, either health or sickness; take it gladly, and
grudge not willingly against Him.

Do as I say, take thy meat as it cometh, or provide it according
to reason, and take it gladly, as a thing that thou needest; but
be well aware of lusts that cometh with need, eschew too much as
well as too little. And having done, if after it there arise in
thee a remorse or biting of conscience, that thou hast eaten too
much, and thereupon thou becomest sad and heavy with overmuch
bitterness against thyself, lift up the desire of thy heart to thy
good Lord Jesus, and acknowledge thyself a wretch, and a beast,
and ask Him forgiveness, and say that thou wilt amend it, and pray
that he will forgive thee. Leave off then, and think no further of
it, nor strive so much with the vice, as if thou wouldst destroy
it utterly, for it is not worth the doing so, neither shalt thou
be ever able to bring it about that way; but set thyself about
some other business bodily or ghostly, according as thou findest
thyself best disposed, that thereby thou mayest profit more in
other virtues, as in humility and charity. For wot thou well, that
he that hath in his desire and in his endeavours no other respect
to no other thing but Humility and Charity, always crying after
them, how he may have them, he shall through such desire and
manner of working profit and increase, not only in those two
virtues, but also in all other virtues together with them, as in
chastity, abstinence and such other (though he have but a little
regard to them in comparison of the other, namely, Humility and
Charity) more in one year than he should, without the said desire
and manner of working, profit in seven years, though he strive
against gluttony, lechery and such other continually, and beat
himself with scourges each day from morning to even-song time.

Humility and charity the two great remedies.

Set thyself, therefore, about Humility and Charity, and using all
thy diligence and industry to come by them, yet shalt thou have
enough to do in getting of them. And if thou canst get them, they
will direct thee, and measure thee privily and secretly, how thou
shalt eat, and how thou shalt drink, and succour all thy bodily
needs, that there shall no man know of it, unless thou thyself do
tell it him, and that thou shalt not be in perplexity, scruples,
vexation, anguishment, or heaviness, nor with any lust or adhering
to the delights and likings of sensuality, but shalt do all in
peace of a glad conscience with all quietness and satisfaction. I
have spoken more than I thought to have done in this matter, but
nevertheless do (as far as thou canst) as I say, and I hope God
shall make all well.

By this that I have said, thou mayest in some measure see into
this image of sin, and perceive how much it hinders thee. The
Gospel saith, how that Abraham spake to the rich man that was
buried in hell, on this wise: There is betwixt us and you a great
chaos;138 that is to say, a thick darkness betwixt thee and us,
that we cannot come to thee, nor thou to us. This dark image in
thy soul and mine may be in like manner called a chaos, that is, a
great darkness, for it letteth us that we cannot come to Abraham,
which is Jesus, and it letteth Him, that He will not come to us.

CHAPTER IX

Of the Five Windows of this dark Image, and what cometh in by
them, and how they are to be ordered

LIFT up thy lanthorn, and thou shalt see in this image five
windows, by which sin cometh into thy soul, as the Prophet saith:
Death cometh in by our windows.139 These are the five senses by
which thy soul goeth out of herself, and fetcheth her delight, and
seeketh her feeding in earthly things, contrary to the nobility of
her own nature. As by the eye to see curious and fair things, and
so of the other senses. By the unskilful using of these senses
willingly to vanities, thy soul is much letted from the sweetness
of the spiritual senses within; and therefore it behoveth thee to
stop these windows, and shut them, but only when need requireth to
open them.

The understanding of the dignity of our soul would make us forsake
fleshly things.

And this would be little mastery or difficulty for thee to do, if
thou didst once see thy own soul by clear understanding what it
is, and how fair it is in its own nature, and so is still, were it
not so overlaid with a black mantle of this foul image. But
because thou knowest it not, therefore leavest thou the inward
sight of thyself, and seekest thy food without, abroad, like a
brute beast. Thus saith our Lord in a threatening way to a chosen
soul in holy Writ: Thou fairest among women, if thou knowest not
thyself, go out, and walk after the steps of the flock of thy
fellows, and feed thy kids.140 And it is as much as to say: Thou
soul, fair by nature, made after the likeness of God, frail in thy
body as a woman, by reason of the first sin, that thou knowest not
thyself, nor how that angels' food should be thy delights within,
therefore goest thou out by thy bodily senses, and seekest thy
meat and thy liking as a beast of the flock, that is as141 one
outcast and rejected, and therewith thou feedest thy thoughts and
thine affections, which are unclean as goats. It is a shame for
thee to do so.

And, therefore, turn home again into thyself and hold thee within,
and beg no more without, namely, swines' meat. For if thou wilt
needs be a beggar, ask and crave within of thy Lord Jesus, for He
is rich enough, and gladlier would give thee than thou canst ask,
and run no more out as a beast of the flock, that is a worldly man
or woman, that hath no delight but in his bodily senses. And if
thou do thus, thy Lord Jesus will give thee all that thou needest,
for He will lead thee into His wine cellar, and make thee to taste
and try His wines, which liketh thee best for he hath many tuns.
Thus a chosen soul, joying in our Lord, saith of Him in holy Writ:
The King brought me into His wine cellar.142 That is to say:
Inasmuch as I forsook the drunkenness of fleshly lusts and worldly
likings, which are bitter as wormwood, therefore the King of
bliss, the Lord Jesus, led me in; that is, first into myself for
to behold and know myself, and after He led me into His cellar;
that is to say, above myself by ascending and passing into Him
alone, and gave me a taste of His wine; that is for to taste a
certainty of spiritual sweetness and heavenly joy. These are not
the words of me, a wretched caitiff, living in sin, but they are
the words of the spouse of our Lord in holy Writ; and these words
I say to thee, to the end that thou mightest draw in thy soul from
without, and follow on further as well as thou canst.

When the use of the senses are deadly sin, and when only venial.

I will show thee furthermore (for thy desire draweth more out of
my heart than I thought to have said in the beginning) when the
use of thy senses be deadly sin, and when venial. Thus, therefore,
our Lord saith in the Gospel: A man made a great supper, and
called many thereto, and sent his servant at supper-time, after
them that were bidden. The first excused himself, and said on this
wise, that he could not come, for he had bought a farm. The other
also excused himself, that he could not come, for he had bought
five yoke of oxen, and went to try them. The third, for that he
had married a wife.143 I forbear to speak of the first and of the
last, and will tell ye of the middlemost of them, that had bought
the oxen, for he is to our purpose. Five yoke of oxen betoken the
five senses, which are beastly as an ox. Now this man that was
called to the supper was not rejected because he bought the oxen,
but because he went to try them, and so he would not come. Right
so say I to thee; for to have thy senses, and to use them in need,
it is no sin, but if thou go voluntarily to try them by vain
delights in creatures, then it is sin. And if thou choose that
delight as a final rest of thy soul, and as a full liking, that
thou carest not to have any other bliss but such worldly vanities,
then is it deadly, for thou choosest it as thy God, and so shalt
thou be put from thy supper; for St Paul forbids us to use our
senses in that manner when he said thus: Thou shalt not go after
thy lusts, nor voluntarily try thy likings. A man or a woman that
is encumbered with deadly sin shall hardly escape deadly sin in
this business, though he perceiveth it not; but I hope this
toucheth not thee.

Nevertheless, if thou through frailty delight thee in thy senses,
and in such vanities, but yet keepest thyself in charity and the
grace of God as to other things, and choosest not this delight for
a full rest of thy soul, but always settest up God above all
things in thy desire, this sin in thee is venial; and that more or
less according to its circumstances; nor shalt thou for these
venial sins be put from the supper in the bliss of heaven, but
thou shalt want the tasting and the assaying of that delicate
supper, whilst thou livest here on earth, unless thou be busy with
all thy might to withstand and conquer such venial sins, for
though it be so that venial sins break not charity, yet soothly
they let the fervour and the ghostly feeling of charity.

But thou wilt say again, that thou canst not keep from hearing of
vanities, for divers, both those that live in the world and
others, come oft to speak with thee, and tell thee some tales of
vanity.

How we should behave ourselves with them that come to speak with
us.

As unto this I say thus, that thy communing with thy neighbour is
not much hurt to thee, but helpeth thee sometimes, if thou order
thy business wisely; for that thou mayest try and find out thereby
the measure of thy charity to thy neighbour, whether it be much or
little. Thou art bounden (as all other men and women are) to love
thy neighbour principally in thy heart, and also in deeds to show
him tokens of charity, as reason asketh, according to thy might
and knowledge. And since it is so that thou oughtest not to go out
of thy house to seek occasion how thou mightest profit thy
neighbour by deeds of charity, because thou art enclosed;
nevertheless thou art bound to love all men in thy heart, and to
show some tokens of true love to them that come to thee. And
therefore, whoso will speak with thee, whatsoever he be, or of
what degree soever, though thou knowest not what he is, nor why he
cometh, yet be thou soon ready with a good will to ask what his
will is, be not dainty, nor suffer him long to wait for thee, but
look how ready and how glad thou wouldst be if an angel of heaven
should come and speak with thee, so ready and so buxom be thou in
will for to speak with thy neighbour when he cometh to thee, for
thou knowest not what he is, nor why he cometh, nor what need he
hath of thee, or thou of him, till thou hast tried. And though
thou be at prayer, or at thy devotions, that thou thinkest loth to
break off, for that thou thinkest that thou oughtest not leave God
for to speak with anyone, I think not so in this case, for if thou
be wise thou shalt not leave God, but thou shalt find Him, and
have Him, and see Him, in thy neighbour, as well as in prayer,
only in another manner.

If thou canst love thy neighbour well, to speak with thy neighbour
with discretion shall be no hindrance to thee. Discretion shalt
thou have on this manner as me thinketh; Whoso cometh to thee, ask
him meekly what he would have; and if he come to tell thee his
disease or trouble and to be comforted by thy speech, hear him
gladly, and suffer him to say what he will, for ease of his own
heart; and when he hath done, comfort him if thou canst, gladly,
gently and charitably, and soon break off. And then, after that,
if he will fall into idle tales, or vanities of the world, or of
other men's actions, answer him but little, and feed not his
speech, and he will soon be weary, and quickly take his leave.

If it be another man that cometh to teach thee, as some Churchman,
etc., hear him humbly, and with reverence to his order; and if his
speeches comfort thee, ask of him more what thou needest, and take
not upon thee to teach him, for it falleth not to thy share to
teach a priest, but in case of necessity. If his speech comfort
thee or profit thee not, answer little, and he will soon take his
leave.

If it be another man that cometh to give thee his alms, or else
for to hear thee speak, or to be taught by thee, speak gently and
humbly to them all, reprove no man for his faults, for that
belongeth not to thee, unless he be the more homely or familiar
with thee, that thou knowest that he will take it well from thee.
And to be short in this matter of thy telling of another of his
faults, I say, that when thou conceivest that it will do him good
(namely, in his soul) thou mayest tell him thy mind, if thou hast
opportunity, and if he is likely to take it well. And above all
other things, in this matter of conversing with thy neighbour,
keep silence as much as thou canst, and then shalt thou see that
by so doing thou shalt in short time be troubled with little press
or company that would come to hinder thy devotions. This is my
opinion herein; do thou better if thou canst.

CHAPTER X

Of another Hole or Window that is to be stopped as well as the
Windows of the Senses, namely, the Imagination

BUT thou wilt say that thou hast done all this, namely, stopped
the windows of thy five senses, so that thou seest no worldly
things, nor hearest them, nor hast any use of thy senses, more
than need requireth; and for that end thou art enclosed. And to
this I answer: If thou do thus, as I hope thou dost, then hast
thou stopped a great window of this image, but yet art thou not
secure; for that thou hast not stopped the privy holes of the
imaginations of thy heart. For though thou seest me not with thy
bodily eye, yet mayest thou see me at the same time in thy soul by
imagination; and so mayest thou do of all bodily things. If, then,
thou feedest thy soul willingly and wittingly by imaginations of
vanities of the world, and desiring of worldly things; as a
comfort or pleasure and ease; verily though thy soul be kept
within as to thy bodily senses, it is notwithstanding far without
by such vain imaginations.

But now thou wilt ask me whether it be any great sin for a soul to
busy itself in such vanities, either by the outward senses or by
the inward imaginations and thoughts. As unto this I say; that I
would never have thee ask any man this question; for he that will
truly love God, he asketh not commonly, whether this or that be
the greater sin? For he will think that whatsoever letteth him
from the love of God is a great sin, and will think nothing sin
but that thing which is not good, and letteth him from the love of
God. What is sin but a wanting or a forbearing of good? I say not
that it will or ought to grieve him so much as a mortal sin would,
or a venial sin should, neither say I but that he knoweth and
distinguisheth a mortal sin from a venial, and fleeth it more than
the other.

CHAPTER XI

A Brief Rehearsal of what hath been said in the former Chapters,
with a Portraiture of this dark Image of sin

BY this that I have said mayest thou see a little the darkness of
this image of sin, not that I have described it fully to thee as
it is, for I cannot; nevertheless by this little thou mayest see
more if thou look well.

But thou wilt say, how know you that I bear about me such an image
as you speak of? To which I answer, that I may take to me a word
said by the prophet, which is this: Inveni idolum mihi -- I have
found an idol in myself;144 that is, a false image, which some
call an idol, very foul, disfigured and misshapen with
wretchedness of all those sins which I have spoken of, by the
which I am cast down into fleshly or sensual pleasures and worldly
vanities, from cleanness of heart, and feeling of spiritual
virtues, more than I can or may say: and such fall of mine much
grieveth me, and I cry God mercy for it. By this wretchedness
which I feel in my own self, more than I have said, may I the
better tell thee of thy image, for we all came of Adam and Eve,
clothed with clothes of beasts' skins, as the Scripture saith: Our
Lord made to Adam and his wife clothes of a beast's hide.145 In
token that by sin they were come to be misshapen like to a beast,
in which beastly clothes we all are born, and wrapped, and
disfigured from our kingly shape.

The parts of this Image.

This then is an ugly image to look upon; whose head is pride; for
pride is the first and principal sin, as the wise man saith: The
beginning of all manner of sin is pride.146 The back and hinder
part of it is covetousness, as St Paul saith: I forget that which
is behind (vizi, all worldly things) and I stretch forward to that
which is before.147 The breast (in which is the heart) is Envy;
for it is no fleshly sin, but it is a devil's sin, as the wise man
saith: By envy of the devil death came into the world,148 for all
those that are of his party follow him therein. The arms of it are
wrath, inasmuch as a man wreaketh or revengeth himself by his
arms, contrary to Christ's bidding in the Gospel: If a man smite
thee upon one cheek, thou shalt not smite him again, but offer him
the other.149 The belly of this image is gluttony, as St Paul
saith: Meat serveth for the belly, and the belly for meat, but God
shall destroy them both;150 namely, at the last day, when shall be
the full reforming of his chosen, and damning of the reprobate,
The members of it are lechery, of the which St Paul saith thus:
Yield not your members to be instruments of iniquity unto sin;
especially to this sin of lechery. The feet of it are sloth;
therefore the wise man said to the slow and lazy person (to stir
him up to do good deeds), Run, make haste, raise thy friend,151
that is to say, run quickly about to good works, and make haste,
for the time passeth, and raise up thy friend, which is Jesus, by
devout Prayer and Meditation. Here hast thou heard the members of
this image.

CHAPTER XII

A comparing of this Image with the Image of Jesus, and how it is
to be dealt with

THIS is not the image of Jesus, but it is liker an image of the
Devil, for the image of Jesus is made of virtues, with humility
and perfect love and charity; but this is made of false fleshly
love to thyself, with all those members, spoken of in the former
chapter, fastened thereto. This image bearest thou, and every man
whatsoever he be, until by grace of Jesus it be somewhat destroyed
and broken down. Thus David seemeth to say in the Psalter: Man
passeth away as an image, and is troubled in vain.152 Which is as
if he had said: Though it be so that man in the beginning was made
after the image of God, stable and stedfast; nevertheless because
of sin, he proceedeth far in this image of sin, living in this
world, by the which he is unstable and troubled in vain. Also St
Paul speaketh of this Image thus: As we have heretofore borne the
image of the earthly man, the first Adam, that is, the image of
sin, Right so now (if we will come to the love of God) let us bear
the image of the heavenly man Jesus,153 which is the image of
virtues.

This image is to be crucified and to be broken down. And how?
First by the help of Jesus.

What shalt thou do with this image? I answer thee by a word that
the Jews said to Pilate of Christ -- Crucify Him. Take thou this
body of sin, and do Him on the Cross; that is to say, break down
this image, and slay the false love of sin in thyself; as Christ's
body was slain for our sins and trespasses; right so it behoveth
thee, if thou wilt be like Christ, slay thy bodily liking and
fleshly lusts in thyself. Thus said St Paul: Those that are
Christ's followers have crucified and slain their flesh (that is,
the image of sin) with all the lusts,154 and the unreasonable
desires and appetites of it. Slay then and break down Pride, and
set up Humility; also break down Anger and Envy, and raise up Love
and Charity to thy neighbour. Also instead of Covetousness,
poverty of Spirit; instead of Sloth, fervour in devotion with
cheerful readiness to all good deeds; and instead of Gluttony and
Lechery, Sobriety and Charity in body and soul. This considered St
Paul, when he said thus: Putting off the old man with all his
members, which is rotten according to the desires of error, ye
shall shape you and clothe you in the new man, which is the image
of God by holiness and righteousness155 and perfection of virtues.
Who shall help thee to break down this image? Verily thy Lord
Jesus. In the virtue and in the Name of Him shalt thou break down
this mawment (or idol) of sin, pray to Him earnestly, and desire
it, and He shall help thee.

Second, by keeping our hearts. How we may know our heart and
affections.

Gather then thy heart together, and do after the counsel of the
wise man, when he saith thus: With all diligence keep thine heart,
for out of it cometh life,156 and that is when it is well kept,
for then wise thoughts, clean affections and burning desires of
virtues and of charity, and of the bliss of Heaven come out of it,
making the soul to live a blessed life. But on the contrary, if it
be not kept, then as our Lord saith in the Gospel, evil thoughts
and unclean affections come out of the heart which defile the man.
They either benumb and kill the life of the soul by mortal sin, or
else they enfeeble the soul and make it sick, if they be venial.
For what is a man but his thoughts and his loves? These alone make
a man good or bad. So much as thou lovest God and thy neighbour,
and knowest Him, so much is thy soul, and if thou love Him little,
little is thy soul, and if thou love Him not at all, nothing at
all is thy soul. It is nothing as to good, but it is much as to
sin. And if thou wilt know what thou lovest, look and observe what
thou thinkest upon most, for where our love is, there is our eye;
and where our liking is, upon that our heart is thinking most. If
thou love God much, thou likest to think much upon Him, and if
thou love Him little, then little dost thou think upon Him. Rule
well thy thoughts and thine affections, and then art thou
virtuous.

Undertake then the breaking down of this image, when thou hast
first well bethought thee of thyself, and of thy wretchedness,
inwardly, as I have said, how proud, how vain, how envious, how
melancholy (or froward), how covetous, how fleshly, and how full
of corruption. Also how little knowing, feeling or savour thou
hast of God and of spiritual things, how wise, how quick and how
much savour thou hast in earthly things. And (that I may say all
in one word) how thou art as full of sin as an hide or skin is
full of flesh, yet be not thou too much dejected, though thou
thinkest thus of thyself. And when thou hast done thus, lift up
then the desire of thy heart to thy Lord Jesus, and pray for His
help, cry to Him with great desires and sighings that He will help
thee to bear this great burthen of this image, or else that He
will break it. Think also what a shame it is for thee to be fed
with swines' meat of fleshly savours, that oughtest to feel a
spiritual savour of heavenly joy.

This breaking will be painful at first. But afterwards more easy.

If thou dost thus, then beginnest thou to rise against the whole
ground of sin in thee, as I have said. And it may be that thou
shalt feel pain and sorrow, for thou must know that no soul can
live without pain, heaviness and sadness, unless that she take
delight or have her rest either in her Creator or in some
creature. And, therefore, when thou risest against thyself by a
fervent desire for to attain to the feeling of thy Lord Jesus
within thee, and for to draw away thy love from all bodily things,
and from rest in all bodily feelings, insomuch that thou art even
a burthen to thyself, and it seems to thee that all creatures are
risen up against thee, and all the things, which heretofore thou
tookest delight in, do now turn thee to pain and heaviness. And
when thou hast thus forsaken thyself, and canst not likely, for
all that, as yet find comfort in God, needs must thy soul feel and
suffer pain in this case. Nevertheless, I hope that he that will
suffer this pain awhile, stedfastly, cleaving to the desire and
naked mind after Jesus Christ, and to that his desire, that he
will have nothing but his Lord, and will not lightly depart
therefrom, nor seek any other comfort from without for a time (for
it lasteth not long), our Lord is nigh to him, and soon shall ease
his heart, for He will help him to bear his body or sensuality,
which is full of corruption; and will, with His merciful power of
His gracious presence, break down this false image of love in him;
not all at once, but by little and little, till he be in some
measure reformed to His likeness.

The means to facilitate it.

After such a total rising and resolution made by thee against
thyself, when it is passed thou shalt more soberly, more gently
and more easily rule thyself, and more charily keep and guard thy
thoughts and thine affections, and shalt note and discern them,
whether they be good or bad. And thereupon if afterwards thou feel
(I put this for an example) a stirring of pride in any manner or
spice of it, be then presently well aware, as well and as soon as
thou canst, and suffer it not to escape away lightly, but take it
in mind, and there rent it, break it and despise it, and do all
the shame thou canst unto it; look thou spare it not, nor believe
it, though it speak never so fair, for it is false, though it seem
to be truth; as the Prophet saith: My people, they who call thee
blessed, do deceive thee (by their so saying) and would bring thee
into error.157

And if thou be diligent to do thus, thou shalt, by the grace of
Jesus, within short time, stop much of the spring of Pride and
much abate the vain delight thereof, so that thou shalt very early
feel any such motion in thee. And when thou feelest it, it shall
be so weak and, as it were, half dead, that it shall not much
trouble thee. And then shalt thou have a spiritual sight of the
virtue of Humility, and see how good and how fair it is, and thou
shalt desire it and love it for its goodness, so that it shall
please thee both to behold and see thyself as thou art indeed, and
also to be esteemed and held by others to be such a one, that is
full of corruption, and (if need be) to suffer gladly despite and
reproof for love of righteousness.

In like manner when thou feelest any stirrings of wrath, or anger,
or of melancholic risings of heart, or any other evil will against
thy neighbour, for any manner of cause, though it seem reasonable,
and not to be against charity, beware of it, and be ready with thy
thought to restrain it, that it turn not into a further liking or
consent; resist it as much as thou canst, and follow it not
neither by word nor deed, but as it riseth, smite it down again,
and so shalt thou slay it with the sword of the fear of God, that
it shall not trouble thee, for know well in all these stirrings of
pride, vain-glory, envy, or any other, that as soon as thou
perceiveth it, and resistest it with displeasure of thy will and
of thy reason, thou slayest it. Though it be so, that it cleave
still upon thy heart against thy will, and will not lightly pass
away, fear it not, for though it letteth thy soul from peace, yet
doth it not defile her.

Right so in like manner shalt thou do against all evil stirrings
of Covetousness, Sloth, Gluttony and Lechery; that thou be always
ready with thy reason and thy will to reprove them and despise
them.

An excellent way to facilitate it is to set our desire upon God.

And this mayest thou do the better, and the more readily, if thou
be diligent and careful to set thy heart most upon one thing, and
that is nought else but a spiritual desire after God, how to
please Him, love Him and know Him, to see Him and to enjoy Him by
grace here in a little feeling, and in the bliss of Heaven in a
full being. This desire, if thou keep it, it will tell thee what
is sin, and what is not; and what thing is good and what better;
and if thou wilt but fasten thy thoughts to the same desire, it
shall teach thee all that thou needest, and it shall procure thee
all that thou wantest. And, therefore, whensoever thou risest
against the ground of sin in general, or against the ground of any
particular sin, hang fast upon this desire, and set the point of
thy thoughts more upon God whom thou desirest than upon the sin
which thou abhorrest. And if thou do so, then God fighteth for
thee, and will destroy sin in thee. And thou shalt much sooner
come to thy purpose if thou doest thus, than if thou shouldst
leave thy humble desire principally after God, and set thy heart
only against the stirrings of sin, as though thou wouldst destroy
it by thy own mastering of it, but thou shalt never so bring it
about.

CHAPTER XIII

How a Man shall be shapen to the Image of Jesus, and Jesus shapen
in him

Do as I have said, and better if thou canst, and I hope by the
grace of Jesus thou shalt make the devil ashamed, and shalt break
down all such wicked stirrings, that they shall not much trouble
thee. And by this course may the image of sin be broken down in
thee and destroyed, by the which thou art misshapen from the
kindly shape of Christ's image; and thou shalt be reformed and
shapen again to the image of the Humanity of Jesus, by humility
and charity, and afterwards shalt thou become full shapen to the
image itself of the Godhead, whilst thou livest here, as it were
in a shadow of it in contemplation, and hereafter in verity and
full reality in the bliss of Heaven.

Of this shaping to the likeness of Christ St Paul speaks thus: My
little children whom I travail with again (as a woman that were
with child with you) until Christ be shapen again in you.158 Thou
hast conceived Christ within thee by faith, and He liveth in thy
soul by grace, inasmuch as thou hast a good will and a desire to
serve Him and please Him; but He is not yet fully shapen in thee,
nor thou in Him by perfection of charity. And therefore St Paul
bare thee and me and others also with travail, as a woman beareth
a child, until the time that Christ hath His full shape in us, and
we in Him. Of this treateth the second book.

CHAPTER XIV

The Conclusion of this Book, and of the Cause why it was made, and
how she for whom it was made was to make use of it

The true way to contemplation.

WHOSO thinkest to attain to the working and to the full use of
contemplation and not by this way, that is by perfection of
virtues, and taking full heed thereto, cometh not in by the door,
and therefore as a thief he shall be cast out. I say not but that
a man may have by the gift of God, at by times, a tasting and a
glimmering of the contemplative life; some I say at the beginning
of their conversion. But the solid feeling of it shall he not
have, until he have gotten in him some perfection of virtues. For
Christ is the door, and is also the porter, and without His leave
and His liberty no man may come in; as He Himself saith: No man
cometh to the Father but by Me.159 That is to say, no man can come
to the contemplation of the Godhead but he that is first reformed
by perfection of humility and charity, to the likeness of Jesus in
His Humanity.

Lo, then, have I told thee a little, as methinketh, first of
Contemplative life, what it is; and then of the ways which, by the
grace of God, lead thereunto. Not as if I had it myself in feeling
and in working, as I have it in talking. Nevertheless, I would by
this writing of mine (such as it is) first stir up my own
negligence to do better than I have done; and also my purpose is,
to stir thee, or any other man or woman that hath taken the state
of life Contemplative, to travail more diligently and more humbly
in that manner of life, by such simple words as God hath given me
grace for to say. And therefore if there be any word therein that
stirreth thee or comforteth thee more to the love of God, thank
God, for it is His gift and not of the words written. And if it
comforteth thee not, and thou understandest it not readily, study
not too long about it, but lay it aside till another time, and go
to thy prayers or some other business; take it as it will come,
and not all at once.

Also these words which I write, take them not too strictly, but
when thou thinkest, upon good consideration, that I write too
short, either for lack of English or lack of reason, I pray thee
amend it only where need is. Also these words which I write to
thee, belong not all of them to one that is of an active life, but
to thee or to any other which hath the state of life
contemplative.

The Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with thee.

THE SECOND BOOK

CHAPTER I

SECTION I

That a Man is the Image of God after the Soul and not after the
Body; and how he is restored and reformed thereto that was
misshapen by Sin

FORASMUCH as thou desirest greatly, and askest it for charity, to
hear more of that image of which I have spoken in the former book
in part; therefore I shall willingly, with fear, fall to thy
desire, and by the help of our Lord's grace, in whom I fully
trust, shall open to thee a little more of this image.

Man restored by the Passion of Christ.

I tell thee in truth, that I understand nought else thereby, but
thy soul. For thy soul and my soul and every rational soul is an
image, and that a worthy one, for it is the image of God, as the
Scripture saith: Man is God's Image and made to the image and
likeness of Him;160 not in His bodily shape without, but in his
faculties within, as holy Writ saith: Our Lord God shaped man in
His soul to His own image and likeness. This is the image that I
have spoken of. This image, made after the image of God in its
first shaping, was wonderful fair and bright, full of burning love
and ghostly light, but through the sin of the first man Adam it
was disfigured and misshapen into another likeness, as I have said
before, for it fell from that ghostly light and that heavenly
feeding into painful darkness and lust of this wretched life,
exiled and driven out from the inheritance of Heaven, that it
should have had if it had continued, into the wretchedness of this
earth, and afterward into the prison of hell, there to have been
without end; from which prison it should never return to the
heavenly inheritance until it were reformed to the first shape and
likeness. But that reforming could not be made by any earthly man,
for every man was in the same mischief, and none was sufficient to
help himself, and so much less another man. Therefore it needed to
be done by Him that was more than man, that is God alone. And it
was needful that He should reform and restore man to bliss (if
ever he were to be saved) who of His infinite goodness first
created him thereto. Now, then, I shall tell thee, how he might be
reformed, and how he is reformed to his first likeness by Him that
first made and framed him, for that is the intent of this writing.
The justice of God requireth that a sin committed be not forgiven,
unless that amends be made for it, if it may be done. Now it is
certain that mankind that was perfect in Adam the first man
(sinning so grievously against God, when he broke His special
command, and assented to the false counsel of the devil) deserved
justly to be separated from Him, and damned to hell without end,
so far forth, that according to God's Justice, he could not be
forgiven, unless amends were first made, and full satisfaction
given. But this amends could none make that was man only, and
proceeded out of Adam by generation; because that the trespass and
dishonour done to God was endless great, and therefore it passed
man's power to make amends for it. And, secondly, because he that
had offended, and would make amends for it, ought to give and pay
unto him whom he had offended, all that he owed him, though he had
not offended, and over and besides that, to give and pay him
something that he owed not, in regard of the same offence and
injury done. But mankind had not wherewith to pay God for his
trespass, over and above that which he owed him, for what good
soever man could do in body or soul was but his debt; for every
man ought, as the Gospel saith: For to love God with all his
heart, and all his soul, and all his might; and better than this
could he not do; and nevertheless this deed was not sufficient to
the reforming of mankind, nor could he do this until he was first
reformed. Then needed it, that if man's soul should be reformed,
and the trespass made good, that our Lord God Himself should
reform this image, and make amends for the trespass, since no man
could. But that might He not do in His Godhead, for He might not,
nor ought not, to make amends by suffering pain in His own nature,
therefore it was necessary, that He should take the same nature
that had trespassed, and so become man. And that could He not do
by the common way of generation, for it was impossible for God's
Son to be born of touched woman, therefore must He become man
through a gracious generation by the working of the Holy Ghost of
a pure gracious virgin our Lady St Mary; and so it was done; for
our Lord Jesus, God's Son, became man; and through His precious
death which He suffered, made amends to the Father of Heaven for
man's guilt. And that could He well do, for He was God, and ought
not anything for Himself, but only as He was man, born of the same
kind that Adam was that first trespassed, and so though He ought
it not for His own person, for that He had not sinned.
Nevertheless He ought it of His free will, for the trespass of
mankind, having taken upon Him their nature for the salvation of
man, out of His endless mercy.

Forsooth it is, there was never any man that could yield to God
anything of his own which he owed not, but only this blessed
Jesus, for He could pay God something which He owed not, for
Himself, which was but one thing, namely, to give His precious
life by voluntary undertaking death for love of justice, this He
owed not. As much good indeed as He was able to do in this life,
for the honour of God was all but due debt; but to undergo death
for the love of justice, He was not bound thereto. He was bound to
justice, but He was not bound to die: for death is only a pain
ordained to man for his own sin. But our Lord Jesus Christ never
sinned, neither could sin, and therefore He ought not to die.
Since then He ought not to die, and yet died willingly, therefore
paid He to God more than He ought. And since that was the best
man's deed, and most worthy that ever was done, therefore, was it
reasonable that the sin of mankind should be forgiven. Inasmuch as
mankind had found a man of the same kind, without spot of sin,
that is Jesus; that might make amends for the trespass done, and
might pay our Lord God all that He ought; and over and above, that
which He ought not. Since, then, that our Lord Jesus, God and man,
died thus for the salvation of man's soul, it was just that sin
should be forgiven, and man's soul, that was His image, should or
might be reformed and restored to the first likeness, and to the
bliss of Heaven.

This passion of our Lord, and this precious death is the ground of
all the reforming of man's soul; without which man's soul could
never be reformed to the likeness of Him, nor come to the bliss of
Heaven; but blessed be He for all these His works. Now so it is,
that through the virtue of His precious passion, the flaming sword
of the Cherubim that drove Adam out of Paradise is now put away;
and the endless gates of Heaven are open to every man that will
enter in thereto. For the person of Jesus is both God and King of
Heaven in the bliss of the Father, and as man, He is porter at the
gate, ready to receive every soul that will be reformed here in
this life to His likeness. For now may every soul, if he will, be
reformed to the likeness of God; since that the trespass is
forgiven, and the amends through Jesus is made for the first
guilt. Nevertheless though this be true, yet all souls have not
the profit nor the fruit of this precious passion, nor are
reformed to the likeness of Him.

SECTION II

That Jews and Pagans and also false Christians are not reformed
effectually through the virtue of the Passion through their own
Faults

TWO manner of men are not reformed by the virtue of this passion.
One is of them that know it not; another is of them that love it
not. Jews and Pagans have not the benefit, because they know it
not. Jews understand not that Jesus the son of the virgin Mary is
God's Son. Also the Pagans know it not that the sovereign wisdom
of God would become the son of man, and in His manhood would
suffer the pains of death. And therefore the Jews held the
preaching of the Cross and of the Passion nought but slander and
blasphemy; and the Pagans held it nought but fancy and folly. But
true Christians hold it the sovereign wisdom of God and His mighty
power. Thus saith St Paul: We preach unto you Christ crucified, to
the Jews a stumbling block, and to the Gentiles foolishness; but
to those that be called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the Power of
God and the Wisdom of God.161 And therefore these men, through
their unbelief, put themselves from the reforming of their own
souls, and continuing in this unbelief, shall never be saved nor
come to the bliss of Heaven. Forsooth it is, from the beginning of
the world to the last ending was there never any man saved, nor
shall be, unless he believe generally or specially in Jesus
Christ, to come, or already come. For right as all chosen souls,
that were before the Incarnation under the Old Testament, believed
in Christ that He should come, to reform men's souls; and that
either with an open and clear belief, as the Patriarchs and
Prophets and other holy men did; or else with a secret and general
belief, as children and other simple and imperfect souls had that
had no special or explicit clear knowledge of the Mystery of the
Incarnation; right so, all chosen souls under the New Testament
have belief in Christ already come; either openly and feelingly,
as spiritual men and wise men have, or else generally, as children
have that are christened, and other simple and unlearned souls
have, that are nourished in the bosom of holy Church.

Since this is so, methinks that those men err greatly and
grievously who say that Jews and Turks, by keeping of their own
law, may be saved, though they believe not in Jesus Christ, as
holy Church believeth; inasmuch as they believe that their own
faith is good, and secure, and sufficient for their salvation. And
in that belief they do as it seems many good deeds of justice and
righteousness, and peradventure if they knew that the Christian
faith were better than their own, they would leave their own and
take it; and therefore they shall be saved. But I say this is not
enough, for Christ, God and man, is both the way and the end. And
He is the mediator betwixt God and man, and without Him can no
soul be reconciled, nor come to the bliss of Heaven, and therefore
they that believe not in Him who is both God and man, can never be
saved nor come to bliss.

Other men also, that love not Christ, nor His Passion, are not
reformed in their souls to His likeness, and these are false
Christians, which are out of grace and charity, and live and die
in deadly sin. These men know well, as it seemeth, that Jesus is
God's Son, and that His passion sufficeth to the salvation of
man's soul; and they believe also the other articles of faith. But
it is an unshapen and dead faith, for they love Him not, nor
choose the fruit of His passion, but lie still in their sins, and
in the false love of this world, unto their last end; and so they
be not reformed to the likeness of God, but go to the pains of
Hell endlessly, as Jews and Turks do, and into much more, and
greater pains than they, inasmuch as they had the truth and kept
it not; for that makes their sin greater than if they had never
known it.

If then thou wilt know what souls are reformed here in this life
to the image of God through the virtue of His Passion; verily,
only those that believe in Him and love Him; in which souls, the
image of God that was misshapen through sin, as it were, into a
foul beast's likeness, is restored and reformed to its first
shape, and to the worthiness and worship that it had in the
beginning; without which restoring and reforming never shall any
soul be saved nor come to bliss.

CHAPTER II

Of two Manners of reforming of this Image, one in fulness, another
in part

NOW thou wilt say: How can this be, that the image of God, which
is man's soul, should be reformed here in this life to His
likeness in any creature? Whereas the contrary seemeth true, nay,
it seems that it cannot possibly be so? For if it were reformed,
then should it have a stable memory, a clear sight or
understanding, a clear burning love to God and spiritual things
everlastingly, as it had in the beginning. But these hath no
creature living here in this life, as thou perceivest; for as for
thyself, thou canst truly say, that thou art far from it. Thy
memory, thy reason, and thy love of thy soul, are so much set upon
the beholding and loving of earthly things, that of spiritual
things thou feelest right little. Thou feelest no reforming in
thyself, but art so wrapped about with this black image of sin,
for all that thou canst do, that upon what side soever thou
turnest, thou feelest thyself defiled and spotted with fleshly
stirrings of this foul image; and other changings thou feelest
none, fresh fleshliness into spiritualness, neither in the inward
faculties of thy soul within, nor in bodily feelings or thy senses
without. Wherefore it seems to thee that it cannot be that this
image should be so reformed.

Thou askest, therefore, how it can be reformed?

To this I answer, and say thus: There be two manners of reforming
of the image of God which is man's soul, whereof one is in
fulness, another is in part. Reforming in fulness cannot be had in
this life, but is deferred till after, to the bliss of Heaven,
where man's soul shall fully be reformed; not to that state that
it had at the first by nature, or might have had through grace if
it had stood whole; but it shall be restored to much more bliss,
and much higher joy through the great mercy and the endless
goodness of God, than it should have had if it had never fallen.
For then shall the soul receive the whole and the full feeling of
God in all its faculties, without any other love or affection to
anything else interposing itself. And it shall see mankind in the
person of Jesus exalted above the kind or nature of Angels, united
to the Godhead, for then shall Jesus, both God and man, be all in
all, and only He, and none other but He, as the Prophet saith: Our
Lord (Jesus) in that day shall be exalted only.162 And also the
body of man shall then be glorified, for it shall receive fully
the rich dowry of immortality, with all that belongeth thereto.
This shall a soul have with the body, and much more than I can
say; but that shall be the bliss of Heaven, but not in this life.
For though it be so that the Passion of our Lord be the cause of
all this full reforming of man's soul; nevertheless it was not His
will to grant it straightways after passion, to all chosen souls
that were living at the time of His Passion, but He delayed it
unto the last day, and that for this reason: Manifest it is that
our Lord Jesus Christ of His mercy hath ordained a certain number
of souls to salvation, which number was not fulfilled in the time
of His Passion, and therefore it needed that by length of time
through natural generation of men that number should be made up;
then if it had so been, that so soon as after the death of our
Lord, every soul that would have believed in Him should have been
blessed and fully reformed by His life, without any further delay,
there would no creature that lived then have been that would not
have received the Faith for to have been made blessed, and then
should generation have ceased. And so should we that are now
chosen souls living, and other souls that come after us, not have
been born, and so should our Lord have failed of His number. But
that might not be, and therefore our Lord provided much better for
us, in that He delayed the full reforming of man's soul till the
last end, as St Paul saith; God providing better for us, that they
should not be consummate without us.163 That is, our Lord
providing better for us in the delaying of our reforming, than if
He had granted it then, for this reason, that the chosen souls
should not make a full end without us that come after.

Another reason is this: Since that man in his first creation was
set in his free will, and had free choice whether he would have
God fully or no, it was therefore reasonable that since he would
not choose God then, but wretchedly fell from Him, if he should
afterwards be reformed, that he should be set again in the same
free choosing that he was first in, as whether he would become
reformed or no. And this may be also a cause why man's soul was
not fully reformed speedily upon the Passion of Jesus Christ.

CHAPTER III

That Reforming in part is in two manners, one in Faith, another in
Feeling

ANOTHER reforming of this image is in part, and this may be had in
this life, and if it be not had in this life, it will never be
had, nor the soul ever come to be saved.

But this reforming is on two manners; one is in Faith only,
another is in Faith and in Feeling. The first sufficeth to
salvation, the second is worthy to have passing great reward in
the bliss of Heaven. The first may be had easily and in short
time, the second not so, but through length of time and much
spiritual pains. The first may be had, and yet the man may have
together with it the stirrings and feelings of the image of sin.
For though a man feel nothing in himself but all stirrings of sin
and fleshly desires, notwithstanding those feelings, if he do not
voluntarily assent thereto, he may be and remain reformed in Faith
to the likeness of God.

But the second putteth out the liking in, and delight felt in
sensual motions and worldly desires, and suffereth no such spots
to abide in this image. The first is only of beginning and
profiting souls, and of active men. The second is of perfect
souls, and of contemplative men. For by the first reforming the
image of sin is not destroyed, but it is left, as it were, all
whole in feeling. But the second destroyeth the old feelings of
this image of sin, and bringeth into the soul new gracious
feelings, through the workings of the Holy Ghost. The first is
good, the second is better; but the third, that is in the bliss of
Heaven, is best of all. First let us speak of that one, and then
of that other, and so we shall come to the third.

CHAPTER IV

That through the Sacrament of Baptism (which is grounded in the
Passion of Christ) this Image is reformed from Original Sin

Two manner of sins make the soul to lose the image and likeness of
God. The one is called Original, that is the first sin; the other
is Actual, that is committed by our own will. These two sins put
away a soul from the bliss of Heaven, and damn it to the endless
pains of hell; unless, through the grace of God, it be reformed to
His likeness, before it pass hence out of this life. Nevertheless,
two remedies are there against these two sins, by the which a
misshapen soul may be restored again. One is the Sacrament of
Baptism against original sin, another is the Sacrament of Penance
against actual sin. A soul of a child that is born, as is not
christened, by reason of original sin, hath no likeness of God; he
is nought but an image of the fiend, and a brand of hell, but as
soon as it is christened, it is reformed to the image of God, and
through the virtue of the faith of holy Church is suddenly turned
from the likeness of the fiend, and made like an Angel of Heaven.
Also the same falleth to a Jew or to a Turk, the which before they
be christened, are nought but bondslaves of hell; but when they
forsake their error, and fall humbly to the truth in Christ, and
receive the baptism of water in the Holy Ghost, surely without any
further tarrying they are reformed to the likeness of God, so
fully that the holy Church believeth that if presently after
baptism they should happen to die, they should straight fly up to
Heaven without any more letting, though they had before in the
time of their unbelief committed never so many or so great sins;
nor should they ever feel the pains of hell nor of purgatory, and
that privilege should they have by the merit of Christ's Passion.

CHAPTER V

That through the Sacrament of Penance (that consisteth in
Contrition, Confession and Satisfaction) this Image is reformed
from Actual Sin

MOREOVER, Christian men or women that have lost the likeness of
God through a deadly sin in breaking God's commandments, if he
through the touching of grace in his heart doth truly forsake his
sin, with sorrow and contrition of heart, and be in full purpose
to amend and turn to a good life; and in this foresaid purpose and
will receiveth the Sacrament of Penance, if he may come by it, or
if he cannot have a will and desire to come by it, surely, I say,
that this man or woman's soul, that was before misshapen to the
likeness of the devil through deadly sin, is now by the Sacrament
of Penance restored and shapen again to the image of our Lord God.

This is a great courtesy of our Lord, and an endless mercy, who so
lightly forgiveth all manner of sin, and so suddenly giveth plenty
of grace to a sinful soul that asketh mercy of Him. He requireth
not great doing of Penance, nor painful suffering in the flesh,
before He forgiveth it. But He requireth a loathing of sin, and a
full forsaking in the will for love of Him, and a turning of the
heart to Him. This He asketh, for this He giveth. And then when He
seeth this, without any further delay He forgiveth the sin, and
reformeth the soul to His likeness. The sin is forgiven, that the
soul shall not be damned, nevertheless, the pain due to the sin is
not yet fully forgiven, unless that the contrition and love be the
greater. And therefore shall he go and show himself, and make his
confession to his ghostly Father, and receive the penance which he
enjoineth him for his trespass, and perform it gladly, so that
both the sin and the punishment may be done away before he pass
hence.

Why Confession is necessary.

And this is the wise ordinance of holy Church, to the great
benefit of man's soul, that though the sin be forgiven through the
virtue of contrition, nevertheless for the exercise of humility,
and for to make entire satisfaction, he shall (if he have means
for it) show to his priest a plenary confession, for that is his
token and warrant against all his enemies, of the forgiveness of
his sins, and such a token or warrant will it be needful for him
to have. Just as if a man had forfeited his life against a king on
earth, it were not enough for him (as to his full security and
discharge) to have only forgiveness of the king, unless he have a
charter from him, which may be his token and warrant against all
other men. Right so may it be said spiritually, if a man through
deadly sin have forfeited his life against the King of Heaven, it
is not enough for him (as to his full security) to have
forgiveness of God only by contrition between God and him, unless
he have a charter also made by holy Church (if he may come by it),
and this is the Sacrament of Penance, which is his charter and
token of forgiveness. For sith it was so, that he had offended and
forfeited both against God and His Church, it is skilful that he
have forgiveness from that one, and a warrant from that other. And
this is one cause why Confession is needful.

Another reason is this: That since this reforming of a soul
standeth in Faith only, and not in Feeling (for the forgiveness is
only believed and not felt) therefore a fleshly or sensual man,
that is at first gross and rude in understanding, and cannot
easily judge and conceive, but only outward bodily things, would
not easily have believed that his sins had been forgiven him, if
he had not received some outward or bodily token of it, and that
is Confession, through the which token he is made secure of
forgiveness if he do his part and duty in the business. This is
the belief of holy Church, as I understand it. Another reason is
this: Though the ground of forgiveness stand not principally in
Confession, but in contrition of the heart, and in detestation or
forethinking of sin; nevertheless, I believe that there is many a
soul that would never have felt true contrition, nor had arrived
at forsaking of sin, if Confession had not been, for it falleth
out oftentimes, that in the time of Confession, grace of
compunction cometh to a soul that before never felt grace, but
ever was cold and dry, and farther off from feeling of grace. And
therefore sith Confession was so profitable to the more party of
Christian men, holy Church ordained, for the more security
generally to all Christian men, that every man and woman should
once in the year, at the least, confess all their sins to their
ghostly Father, that come to their mind, though they had never so
much contrition before time. Nevertheless, I hope well, that if
all men had been as careful about the keeping of themselves and
eschewing of all manner of sin; and had arrived at as great
knowledge and feeling of God as some men have, holy Church would
not have ordained the said token of Confession as an obligation,
for it had not been needful. But because all men are not so
perfect, and peradventure much or the greater part of Christians
are imperfect, therefore holy Church ordained Confession by way of
general obligation, to all Christians that will acknowledge holy
Church as their Mother, and will be obedient to her laws.

If this be true, as I hope it is, then erreth he greatly that
generally saith that Confession of sins to the priest is neither
necessary nor profitable, and that no man is bound thereto; for by
that which I have said, it is both necessary and profitable to all
those souls who in this wretched life are defiled with sin, and
namely to those who through deadly sin are misshapen from the
likeness of God, who cannot be reformed to His likeness but by the
Sacrament of Penance which principally standeth in contrition and
sorrow of heart, and secondarily in confession of mouth following
after it if it may be had. And thus through this Sacrament of
Penance is a sinful soul reformed to the image and likeness of
God.

But this reforming standeth in Faith and not in Feeling. For right
as Faith's property is to believe that which thou seest not, so
also is it to believe that which thou feelest not. For he that is
reformed in his soul by the Sacrament of Penance to the image of
God, feeleth not any change in himself, neither in his external
corporal nature, nor within in the substance of his soul, other
than he did before. For as to his feeling, he is as he was, and
feeleth the same stirrings of sin, and the same corruption of his
flesh in his passions and worldly risings in his heart, as he did
before. Yet he ought to believe that through grace he is reformed
to the image of God, though he neither feel it nor see it. He may
easily feel in himself a sorrow for his sins, and a turning of his
will from sin to cleanness of living, if he have grace and take
good heed of himself. But he can neither see nor feel the
reforming of his soul, how it is wonderfully and unperceivably
changed from the foulness of the fiend unto the fairness of an
Angel, through a secret gracious working of the Holy Ghost. This
cannot he see but only believe it; and if he believe it, then is
his soul reformed in truth. For right as Holy Church believeth, a
Jew or Saracen, or a child, by the Sacrament of Baptism duly
administered, to be reformed in soul to the image of God, through
a secret unperceivable working of the Holy Ghost, notwithstanding
all the fleshly stirrings of his body of sin, which he feeleth,
after his Baptism as well as before; right so, by the Sacrament of
Penance humbly and truly received, a bad Christian who hath been
encumbered with deadly sin all his lifetime, is reformed within in
his soul, unperceivably, saving that he finds a turning of his
will to God through a secret power, and a gracious working of the
Holy Ghost, which suddenly worketh, and in a moment or the
twinkling of an eye, setteth right a froward soul, and turneth it
from a spiritual foulness to an invisible fairness, and maketh
her, of a servant of the fiend, a son of joy; and of a prisoner of
hell, an inheritor of Heaven, notwithstanding all the fleshly
feelings of this sinful image, that is the corporal nature.

The Sacraments of Baptism and of Penance do not utterly destroy
and take away the motions of the flesh.

For thou must know, that the Sacrament of Baptism or of Penance,
is not of that virtue to hinder and destroy utterly all the
stirrings of fleshly lusts and of inordinate passions, that the
soul should never feel any risings nor stirrings of them at any
time; for if it were so, then were a soul fully reformed here to
the dignity it had at its first creation. But that cannot be fully
in this life. But it is of that virtue, that it cleanseth the soul
from all sins before done; and if she, being in that case, chance
to die, it saveth her from damnation; or if it continue in the
body, it giveth her grace to withstand the stirrings of sin, or of
the passions of the flesh, so that be they never so grievous, they
shall not hurt her, nor separate her from God, as long as she doth
not willingly consent thereto. So meant St Paul when he said thus:
-- There is no condemnation to them that walk not after the
flesh.164 That is, those souls that are reformed to the image of
God by Faith, through the Sacrament of Baptism or of Penance,
shall not be damned for the feeling of this image of sin, if so be
that they go not after the motions of sensuality by deed doing.

CHAPTER VI

That we are to believe stedfastly the reforming of this Image, if
our Conscience witness to us a full forsaking of Sin, and a true
turning of our Will to good living

OF this reforming in Faith speaketh St Paul in these words: The
just man liveth by Faith.165 That is, he that is made righteous by
Baptism or Penance, he liveth by Faith, which sufficeth to
salvation, and also to heavenly peace, as St Paul saith: Being
justified by Faith, we have peace with God. That is, we that are
made righteous and reformed through Faith in Christ, have peace
and accord made betwixt God and us, notwithstanding the vicious
motions of our body of sin. For though this reforming be secret,
and cannot well be felt here in this life, nevertheless whoso
stedfastly believeth it, and is careful to shape his life
accordingly, and turns not again to deadly sin, surely when the
hour of death cometh, and the soul is departed, then shall he find
that true which I say now. St John in comfort of chosen souls that
live here in Faith under the feeling of this painful image, saith
thus: Little children, now are we the sons of God, and it
appeareth not what we shall be; but we know that when Christ shall
appear, we shall also appear like Him in glory.166 That is, we are
now, whilst we live here, the sons of God, for we are reformed by
Faith in Christ to His likeness, but it appeareth not plainly what
we are, but it is kept secret. Nevertheless, we know well, that
when our Lord shall appear at the last day, then shall we appear
with Him, like to Him in glory.

How a man may find out whether his soul be reformed.

If then, thou wouldst know if thy soul be reformed to the Image of
God or no, thou mayest be resolved by that which I have said,
ransack thy conscience and look what thy will is, for; therein
consisteth the whole business. If it be turned from all manner of
deadly sin, so that thou wouldst not for all the world wittingly
and wilfully break the commandments of God; and for what thou hast
done amiss heretofore contrary to His bidding, hast humbly made
thy confession, with full intent to leave it, and art sorry that
thou didst it; I say then, surely that thy soul is reformed in
Faith to the likeness of God.

CHAPTER VII

That all the Souls that live humbly in the Faith of Holy Church,
and have their Faith enlivened with Love and Charity, be reformed
by this Sacrament, though it be so that they cannot feel the
special gift of Devotion or of spiritual feeling

IN this reforming, which is only in Faith, the most part of chosen
souls lead their lives, setting their wills stedfastly to flee all
manner of deadly sin, and keeping themselves in love and charity
to their neighbour, and keeping the commandments of God according
to their knowledge. And when it is so that wicked stirrings and
evil desires of pride, envy, wrath or luxury, or of any other
capital sin rise in their hearts, they resist and strive against
them, by being displeased at them in their will, so that they
follow not those wicked motions in their deeds; and if through
frailty they fall, as it were against their will, and through
ignorance, their conscience soon after so grieveth and paineth
them for it, that they can take no rest till they have made their
confession, and had absolution for it.

Surely all these souls that thus live in this state of reforming,
and be found therein at the hour of their death, shall be saved,
and shall come to a full reforming in the bliss of Heaven though
it were so, that they never had spiritual feeling, nor inward
taste of devotion, nor any special gift of grace of sweetness or
comfort in all their lifetime. For if thou shouldst say, that no
soul shall be saved, unless she were here reformed in spiritual
feeling, so that she hath felt devotion and spiritual sweetness in
God, as some souls through special grace have done; then should
very few souls be saved, in comparison of the multitude of the
other.

Nay, it is not so to be supposed, that only for the souls that
have had such extraordinary devotion, or have through great grace
come to a spiritual feeling, and for no more, our Lord Jesus
should have taken upon Him the nature of man, and suffered the
bitter passion of His death. It had been such a small purchase for
Him to have come from so far to so near, and from so high to so
low, for so few souls; no, His mercy is spread larger than so. But
on the contrary, if thou imaginest the Passion of our Lord to be
so precious, and His mercy so great, that there shall no soul be
damned, and namely, no Christian, do he never so wickedly, as some
fools do imagine, surely thou errest greatly.

Go, therefore, in the middle way, and hold thee there, and believe
as holy Church believeth, and that is, that the most sinful man
that liveth on earth, if through grace he turn his will from
deadly sin by true repentance to the service of God, he is
reformed in his soul, and if he die in this state, he shall be
saved. Thus hath our Lord promised by His Prophet, saying: At what
time soever a sinner shall be converted, and sorry for his sins,
he shall live, and not die.

And on the other side, whoso liveth in deadly sin, and will not
leave it, nor amend him thereof, nor receive the Sacrament of
Penance, or else if he receive it, taketh it not truly, for the
love of God (that is, for the love of virtue and cleanness, but
only for dread or shame of the world, or only for fear of the
pains of hell), he is not reformed to the image of God, and if he
die in that state, he shall not be saved, his Faith shall not save
him, for it is but a dead faith, because it lacketh love, and
therefore it will not serve his turn. But they that have Faith
quickened with love and charity, though it be but the least degree
of charity, as are simple souls who feel not the gift of special
devotion, nor have spiritual knowledge or feeling of God, as some
spiritual men have, but believe in general as holy Church
believeth, though they know not fully what that is (for it is not
necessary that they should know so fully), but in that belief keep
themselves in love and charity to their neighbour as well as they
can, and eschew all deadly sin according to their best skill, and
do deeds of mercy to their neighbours; all these belong to the
bliss of Heaven. For thus is it written in the Apocalypse: Ye that
fear God, both great and small, praise Him. By great ones are
understood souls that are profiting in grace, or that are perfect
in the love of God, which are reformed in spiritual feeling. By
small, imperfect souls of worldly men and women, and others that
have but a childish knowledge of God, and full little feeling of
Him, but are brought forth in the bosom of holy Church, and
nourished with the Sacraments, as children are fed with milk. All
these ought to love God, and thank Him for the salvation of their
souls, which proceedeth from His endless mercy and goodness. For
holy Church, which is mother of all these, and beareth tender love
to all her ghostly children, prayeth and asketh for them all
tenderly of her Spouse, that is of Jesus, and getteth them health
of soul through virtue of His Passion; and namely for them that
cannot speak for themselves by spiritual prayer for their need.

Thus I find in the Gospel that the woman of Canaan asked of our
Lord health for her daughter that was troubled with the fiend; and
our Lord at first made dainty of the matter, because she was an
alien. Nevertheless she ceased not to cry till our Lord had
granted her asking, and said to her thus: O woman, great is thy
faith, be it unto thee as thou wilt. In the same hour was her
daughter made whole. This woman betokeneth holy Church, that
asketh help of our Lord for simple ignorant souls, that are
encumbered with temptations of the world, and cannot speak
perfectly to God by fervour of devotion, nor by burning love in
Contemplation. And though our Lord seemeth to make dainty at
first, because they are, as it were, aliened from Him,
nevertheless, for the great faith and desert of holy Church, He
granted to her all that she will. And for these simple souls that
believe stedfastly as holy Church believeth, and put themselves
wholly upon the mercy of God, and submit themselves under the
Sacraments and Laws of holy Church, are saved through the prayers
and faith of their holy Mother the Church.

CHAPTER VIII

That Souls reformed need ever to fight and strive against the
Motions of sin while they live here. And how a Soul may know when
she assenteth to these Motions and when not

THIS reforming in Faith is easily gotten, but it is not so easily
held. And, therefore, that man or woman that is reformed to the
likeness of God in Faith, must use much labour and diligence, if
they will keep this image whole and clean, that it fall not down
again through weakness of will to the image of sin. He may not be
idle or careless; for the image of sin is so near fastened unto
him, and so continually presseth upon him by divers stirrings of
sin, that unless he be very wary, he shall very easily through
consent fall again thereto. And, therefore, he needeth to be ever
striving and fighting against the wicked stirring of this image of
sin, and that he make no accord with them, nor have friendship
with them, to be pliable to their unlawful biddings, for in so
doing he beguileth himself. But verily if he strive with them, he
need not be much afraid of consenting; for striving breaketh peace
and false accord. It is good indeed that a man have peace with all
things, save with the fiend and this image of sin, for against
them ought he ever to fight in his thoughts and in his deeds, till
he hath gotten the mastery, which will never be fully in this
life, as long as he beareth and feeleth this image. I say not but
that a soul may, through grace, have the upper hand of this image,
so far that he will not follow nor assent to the inordinate
motions of it, but to be clean delivered from it, so that he shall
feel no suggestions nor jangling of fleshly affections or of vain
thoughts at any time, that can no man come to in this life.

I trow that a soul that is reformed in feeling, by ravishing of
love in contemplation of God, may be far from the sensuality and
from vain imaginations, and so far drawn out and parted from the
fleshly motions for a time, that she shall feel nothing but God;
but such a case lasteth not always. And, therefore, I say, that
every man ought to strive against this image of sin, and namely he
that is reformed in faith only, who may so easily be deceived by
the same. In the person of which men St Paul saith: The flesh
lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh.167
That is, a soul reformed to the likeness of God fighteth against
the sensual motions of the image of sin, and also this image of
sin fighteth against the will of the spirit.

This kind of fighting between these two several images St Paul
knew and felt, when he said thus: I find a law in my members
fighting against the law of my mind, and leading me captive to the
law of sin.168 By these two laws in a soul I understand this
double image: by the law of the spirit I understand the reason of
the soul, when it is reformed to the image of God; by the law of
the flesh I understand the sensuality, which I call the image of
sin. In these two laws a soul reformed leads his life; as Paul
saith in these words: With my mind I serve the law of God, but
with the flesh the law of sin.

Nevertheless, that a soul reformed should not despair though she
serve the law of sin by feeling of the vicious sensuality against
the will of the spirit, because of the corruption of corporal
nature, St Paul excuseth it, saying thus of his own person: For
not that good that I would, do I, but the evil that I hate that I
do; but if I do the evil that I hate, it is not I that worketh it,
but sin that dwelleth in me. That is, I would feel no fleshly
stirrings, but that do I not, but the sinful stirrings of my flesh
I hate, and yet I feel them. Nevertheless, since it is so that I
have the wicked stirrings of my flesh, and yet I feel them and oft
delight in them against my will, they shall not be laid to my
charge to my condemnation, as if I had done them. And why? For the
corruption of this image of sin doth them, and not I.

These stirrings of sin are not too much to be feared.

Lo St Paul in his own person comforteth all souls that through
grace are reformed in Faith, that they should not too much dread
the burthen of this image with the inordinate motions thereof, if
it be so that they do not willingly and deliberately yield
thereto. Yet in this point, many souls that are reformed in truth,
are ofttimes much tormented and troubled in vain, as thus: When
they have felt fleshly motion of pride, or of envy, of
covetousness or luxury, or of any other chief sin, they know not
whether they consent thereto or no, and it is no great wonder; for
in time of temptation frail man's thoughts are so troubled and so
overlaid that he hath no clear sight nor freedom of himself, but
is overtaken often with liking unwarily, and so that liking
passeth perhaps a good while within him ere he will perceive it,
and, therefore, falleth sometime in doubt and dread whether they
sinned in time of temptation or no.

As to this point I say, as methinketh, that a soul may discern by
this means whether he consent or no. If it be so that he is moved
or tempted to any kind of sin, and the liking of it is so great in
his fleshly feeling that it troubleth his reason, and, as it were,
with mastery possesseth the affection of his soul, and yet he
restraineth himself, that he performeth not the sin in deed, nay,
nor would not if he might, but is rather pained to feel the liking
of that sin, and fain would put it away if he could; and when that
stirring is over, is glad and well repaid that he is delivered
from it; by this may he gather, that were the liking never so
great in his fleshly feeling, yet he consented nor sinned, not
especially mortally in the business.

And yet not to be neglected.

Nevertheless, a good and secure remedy it ere for such simple
souls being in such a case, and cannot help it, that they be not
too bold in themselves utterly weening that such fleshly stirrings
with liking are no sins at all, for so they may fall into
carelessness and a false security. Neither on the other side that
they be too fearful, or foolish, as to deem them all as deadly
sins, or as great venials; for neither is true, but that he hold
them all as sins and wretchedness, and that he have sorrow for
them, and be not too busy in judging them either deadly or venial.
But if his conscience be greatly grieved, that he go speedily, and
show to his Confessor in general or in special such stirrings,
and, namely, every stirring that beginneth to fasten any root in
the heart, and most possesseth it, for to draw it down to sin and
worldly vanity. And when he hath thus confessed in general or in
particular, let him assuredly believe that they be forgiven, and
dispute no more about them that are passed and forgiven, whether
they were mortal or venial. But let him be the more careful to
carry himself better against such as shall afterwards arise. And
if he do so, then may he come to have quiet in his conscience. But
some are so unwise and so gross that they would feel or see, or
hear the forgiveness of their sins, as clearly and palpably as
they might see or feel a bodily thing; and because they cannot,
therefore they fall oft into such fears and doubts of themselves,
and never come to rest; and in that they are unwise, for Faith
goeth before feeling.

Our Lord, when He healed a man sick of the palsy, said thus to
him: Trust (my son) that thy sins are forgiven thee; that is,
believe steadfastly. He said not to him, See, feel, how that thy
sins are forgiven (for the forgiveness of sins is done spiritually
and invisibly, through the grace of the Holy Ghost) but believe
it. On the same manner, every one that desireth to have peace of
conscience, it behoveth him (having done what lay in his power) to
believe without spiritual feeling and forgiveness of his sins. And
if at first he believe it, he shall afterward, through grace, feel
it and understand it that it is so. Thus said the Apostle: Unless
ye believe, ye shall not understand. Faith goeth before, and
understanding cometh after, and this understanding (which I call
the light of grace that cometh from God) a soul cannot have but
through great cleanness, as our Lord saith: Blessed are the pure
in heart, for they shall see God.169 Not with their fleshly eye,
but their inward eye, that is, their understanding, cleaned and
enlightened through grace of the Holy Ghost, to see the truth; the
which cleanness a soul cannot feel, unless she have firm faith and
belief going before, as the Apostle saith: By faith, purifying the
heart; that is, our Lord through faith cleanseth the hearts of His
chosen. It is necessary, therefore, that a soul first believe in
the reforming of himself made through the Sacrament of Penance,
though she see it not; and that he dispose himself fully to live
righteously and virtuously, as his Faith requireth; so that
afterward he may come to sight, and to the reforming in feeling.

CHAPTER IX

That this Image is both fair and foul whilst it is in this Life
here, though it be reformed; and of the Differences of the secret
Feelings of those that be reformed and those that be not

FAIR is a man's soul, and foul is a man's soul. Fair, inasmuch as
it is reformed in faith to the likeness of God. But foul, inasmuch
as it is mingled with sensual feelings and inordinate motions of
this image of sin. Foul it is without, like a beast; fair within,
like an Angel. Foul in the feeling of sensuality, fair in truth of
reason. Foul for the fleshly appetites, fair for the good will.
Thus is a chosen soul both fair and foul, according to the saying
of Holy Writ: I am black, but beautiful, O daughters of Jerusalem,
as the tents of Kedar, and as the curtains of Solomon.170 That is,
O ye Angels of Heaven, that are daughters of the high Jerusalem,
wonder not at me, nor despise me for my black shadow. For though I
be black without, because of my fleshly nature, as the tents of
Kedar, yet am I full fair within, as the Curtains of Solomon, in
that I am reformed to the image of God. By Kedar is understood a
reprobate soul, which is the tent of the devil. By Solomon is
understood our Lord Jesus, for He is peace, or peaceable. By the
curtain of Solomon is understood a blessed Angel, in whom our Lord
dwelleth, and is hid in him.

Now may a chosen soul with humble trust in God, and joy of heart,
say thus: Though I be black, because of my body of sin, like a
reprobate soul, that is one of the tabernacles of the fiend; yet
within am I fair (through faith and good will) like an Angel of
Heaven. For so saith he in another place: Look not upon me,
because that I am black, for that the sun hath altered my
colour.171 The sun maketh a skin swarth only without and not
within; and it betokeneth this fleshly life. Therefore thus saith
the chosen soul: Rebuke me not because I am swarth, for the
swartness I have is all without, by the touching and carrying
about me this image of sin; but it is nothing within. And,
therefore, soothly though it be so that a chosen soul, reformed in
faith, dwell in this body of sin, and feel the same fleshly
stirrings, and use the same bodily works, as doth a tabernacle of
Kedar so far forth that in man's judgement there be no difference
betwixt the one and the other, yet within in their souls, and in
the sight of God there is a full great difference.172 But to know
this, which is the one, and which is the other, is only kept to
God; for it passeth man's judgement and man's feeling. And,
therefore, we ought not to judge any man evil, for that thing that
may be used both evil and well.

How to distinguish betwixt the motions of lust in the reformed and
unreformed.

A soul that is not reformed is so fully taken up with the love of
the world, and so much over laid with the liking of his flesh in
all his sensuality, that he chooseth it as a full rest of his
heart, and in the secret desires thereof nothing else would he
have, but only that he might ever be sure thereof; he feeleth
within him no liquor of grace, moving him to loathe his fleshly
life, nor to desire Heaven or bliss. And, therefore, we may say
that he beareth not this image of sin, but is borne of it; like a
man that is sick and so weak that he cannot bear himself, and,
therefore, is laid on a bed, and borne in a litter. Right so, such
a sinful soul is so weak and impotent, for lack of grace, that he
can neither move hand nor foot to do any good deed, nor to resist
(by displeasing of will) the least motion of sin, when it cometh,
but falls down thereto, just like a beast upon carrion. But a soul
that is reformed, though he use his fleshly senses and feel
fleshly stirrings, yet he loatheth them in his heart, for he would
not for any good rest in them fully, but fleeth any such rest in
them, as the biting of an adder, and had rather have his rest and
the love of his heart in God, if he could; and sometimes actually
aspireth thereto, and often grudgeth at the fleeing of the
pleasures of this life, for love of the life everlasting. This
soul is not borne by this image of sin, like a sick man, though he
feel it; but he beareth it, for through grace he is made mighty
and strong to suffer and bear his body, with all the evil
stirrings of it, without hurting or defiling himself, inasmuch as
he loveth them not, nor followeth them, nor consenteth to deadly
sins, as another doth.

This was bodily fulfilled in the gospel by a man sick of the
palsy, who was so feeble that he could not go, and therefore was
laid and borne in a litter, and brought to our Lord; and then he
saw him in that misery, of His goodness He said to him: Arise, and
take up thy bed, and go home to thy house;173 and so he did, and
was whole. And soothly, right as this man bare upon his back, when
he was made whole, the bed that before bare him; right so it may
be said in the spiritual sense, that a soul, reformed in faith,
heareth this image of sin, which bare him before. And therefore be
not too much adread of thy blackness that thou hast by bearing of
this image of sin; but only for the shame of the discomfort that
thou hast from the beholding of it, and also for the upbraiding
that thou feelest in thy heart of thy ghostly enemies, when they
say to thee thus: Where is they Lord Jesus? What seekest thou?
Where is the fairness that thou speakest of? What feelest thou
else but blindness of sin? Where is that image of God, that thou
sayest is reformed in thee? Comfort thyself, and be faithful
stiffly, as I said before, and if thou do so, thou shalt, by this
faith, destroy all the temptations of thy enemies. Thus saith St
Paul: Take unto you the buckler of faith, with which thou shalt be
able to quench all the burning darts of the enemy.174

CHAPTER X

Of three sorts of Men, whereof some be not reformed, and some be
reformed only in Faith, and some both in Faith and Feeling

BY that which I have said, thou mayest perceive, that according to
the divers parts of the soul are divers states of men. Some are
reformed to the likeness of God, and some are not; and some are
reformed only in faith, and some both in faith and feeling. For
thou must understand that a soul hath two parts. The one is called
sensuality, and that is fleshly feeling by the five outward
senses, which is common to man with beasts; of the which
sensuality, when it is unskilfully and inordinately ruled, is made
up the image of sin. That is, when it is not ruled after reason,
for then is the sensuality sin. The other part is called reason;
and that is parted also into two, into the superior and inferior
part. The superior part is likened to a man, for it should be
master and sovereign, and that is properly the image of God, for
by that only the soul knoweth God, and loveth Him. And the
inferior is likened to a woman, for it should be obedient to the
other part of reason, as woman is subject to man. And this
consisteth in the knowing and ruling of earthly things, for to use
them discreetly according as we have need of them, and to refuse
them when we have no need of them, and to have ever with it an eye
upwards towards the superior part of reason with dread and
reverence, to follow and be guided by it.

Now may I say, that a soul that liveth after the likings and lusts
of his flesh, is, as it were, a brute beast; and neither hath
knowledge of God nor desire of virtues, nor of good living, but is
all blinded in pride, fretted with envy, overlaid with
covetousness, defiled with lechery, and other great sins; is not
reformed to the likeness of God; for it lieth and resteth fully in
the image of sin, that is, in sensuality. Another soul, that
feareth God, and resisteth deadly stirrings of the sensual part,
and followeth them not but liveth according to reason in ruling
and ordering of worldly things, and setteth his intent and his
will for to please God by his outward works, is reformed to the
likeness of God in faith; and though he feel the same stirrings of
sin as the other doth, they shall not disease him, for he resteth
not in them as the other doth. But another soul, that through
grace fleeth all deadly stirrings of sensuality, and all venials
also, so far forth that he feeleth them not, keeping under the
very first risings, is reformed in feeling; for he followeth and
is led by the superior part of reason, and this he doth by the
beholding of God and spiritual things, as I shall tell thee
afterwards.

CHAPTER XI

How Men that abide and live in Sin, misshape themselves into the
likeness of divers Beasts, and they be called the Lovers of the
World

A WRETCHED man is he then that knoweth not the worthiness of his
soul, nor will know it, how it is the most worthy creature that
ever God made, except an angel, to whom yet it is like; high above
all others, the which nothing can satisfy as its full rest, but
only God. And therefore should he not love nor like anything, but
Him only, nor covet nor seek anything, but how he may be reformed
to His image; for he knoweth not this, therefore seeketh he and
coveteth his rest and his liking outwardly in bodily creatures
that are worse than himself. Unnaturally doth he, and
unreasonably, that leaveth the sovereign Good and everlasting Life
(which is God) unsought and unloved, unknown and unworshipped, and
chooseth his rest and his bliss in the fading delight of an
earthly thing. And yet thus do all the lovers of this world, that
have their joy and their bliss in this wretched life. Some have it
in pride and vain glory of themselves, that when they have lost
the fear of God they travail and study night and day how they may
come to the worship and praise of the world, and care not by what
means they come thereto, and surpass all other men, either in
learning or any other skill, in name or in fame, in riches or in
respect, in sovereignty and mastership. Some men have their rest
in riches, and in outrageous getting of worldly goods, and set
their hearts so fully to get them, that they seek nothing else but
how they may come thereto. Some have their liking in fleshly lusts
of gluttony and lechery, and other bodily uncleanness, and some in
one thing, and some in another.

The proud turned into a lion.

And thus wretchedly these that do thus, misshape themselves from
the worthiness of a man, and turn themselves into the likeness of
divers beasts. A proud man is turned into a lion, for pride; for
he would be feared and worshipped by all, and that none should
withstand the fulfilling of his fleshly will, neither in word nor
deed. And if any one contradict his proud will, he becometh angry
and wroth, and would revenge himself175 on him, as a lion wreaketh
himself on a little beast. He that doth this is not a man, for he
doth unnaturally and unreasonably against the kind of a man, and
so is turned and transformed into a lion.

The envious and angry into hounds.

Envious and angry men are turned into hounds, through wrath and
envy, that barketh against his neighbour, and biteth him by wicked
and malicious words, and with wrongful deeds grieveth them that
have not trespassed against him, harming them both in body and
soul, contrary to God's bidding.

The idle into asses.

Some men are misshapen into asses, that are slow to the service of
God, and evil willed to do any good deed to their neighbour. They
are ready enough to run for worldly profit, and for earthly honour
or for pleasing of earthly man. But for procuring reward in
heaven, for helping of their own souls, or for the worship of God,
they are soon weary, they have no list thereto; and if they must
go about any such thing, they go but slowly and with an unwilling
mind.

The lustful into swine.

Some are turned into swine, for they are so blind in their
understandings and so brutish in their manners that they have no
fear of God, but follow only the lusts and likings of the flesh,
and have no regard to the virtues and honesty beseeming the noble
nature of man, nor to order themselves according to the rules of
right reason, nor to refrain the unreasonable motions of sensual
nature, but as soon as a fleshly or sensual motion of sin riseth
within them, they are ready to fall down thereto, and follow it as
swine.

The covetous into wolves.

Some men are turned into wolves, that live by ravening; as bad
covetous men do that, through violence or might, rob or deceive
their neighbours of their worldly goods; and some are turned into
foxes, as false and deceiving people that live in treachery and
guile.

All these and many more, that live not in the fear of God, but
break His commandments, transform themselves from the likeness of
God, and make themselves like beasts, yea and worse than beasts,
for they are like to the fiend of hell. And therefore verily these
men that live thus, if they be not reformed when the hour of death
cometh and their souls part from their bodies then shall their
eyes be opened, which are now blinded with sin, and then shall
they find and feel the torment of their wretchedness that they
lived in here. And, forasmuch as the image of God was not reformed
through the Sacrament of Penance in them neither in faith nor
feeling here in this life, they shall be cast out from the blessed
face of our Creator as cursed, and shall be condemned with the
devil into the depth of hell, there to remain for ever. Thus saith
St John in the Apocalypse: The fearful and unbelievers, the
cursed, murderers, fornicators, sorcerers, idolaters, and all that
love and make a lie, their portion shall be in the pit that burns
with fire and brimstone.176 If the lovers of this world would
often think of this, how all this world shall pass away, and draw
to an end, and how that all wicked love shall be most severely
punished, they would in a short time loathe all worldly lusts
which they now take most delight in, and would lift up their
hearts to love God, and would carefully seek and labour how they
might be reformed to His likeness ere they pass hence.

CHAPTER XII

SECTION I

How Lovers of this World in divers ways disenable themselves from
becoming reformed in their Souls

BUT some now will say thus: I would fain love God, and be a good
man, and forsake the love of the world if I might; but I have not
grace for it. If I had the same grace that a good man hath, I
should do as he doth; but because I have it not, I cannot, and so
I need177 seek to do no more, but am excused.

Unto these men I answer thus: True it is as they say, that they
have no grace, and therefore they lie still in their sin, and
cannot rise out. But that availeth them not before God, for it is
their own fault. They disenable themselves in divers ways, so that
the light of grace cannot shine into them, nor rest in their
hearts. For some are so froward that they will not have grace, nor
be good men at all; for that they know well, if they should turn
good men, they must part with the great liking and lust of this
world, which they have in earthly things; but that they will not
do, for they think they are so sweet that they will not part with
them. And they must also do works of penance, as fasting,
watching, praying and many other good works, in chastising of
their flesh and in withdrawing of their fleshly will, and these
may they not do, for they seem so sharp and so terrible to their
thinking, that they shrink178 and loathe to think upon them, and
so they cowardly and wretchedly still dwell in their sins.

Some would seem desirous of grace, and begin to dispose themselves
for it, but their will is exceedingly weak, for as soon as any
stirring of sin cometh, though it be contrary to the command of
God, they fall presently thereto, for they are (through former
custom of often falling and assenting to sin) so as it were bound
and tied to sin, that they think it impossible to withstand it;
and so their imagined difficulty of being able to make such
resistance maketh their will weak, and smiteth it down again.

Some also feel the stirrings of grace, as when they have bitings
of conscience for their evil living, and motions to leave it, but
it seems so painful and grievous to them that they will not suffer
it nor abide it, but fly from it and forget it if they can, so
that they run to seek comfort and contentment outwardly, at such
times, in fleshly creatures, to the end that they may not feel
such pangs of conscience within their souls. And moreover some men
are so blind and so brutish that they think there is no other life
but this; nay that there is no soul other than of a beast, and
that the soul of a man dieth with the body as the soul of a beast;
and therefore they say: Let us eat and drink and make merry here,
for of this life we are secure, we see no other heaven.

Verily such are some wretches that say thus in their hearts though
they say it not with their mouths. Of which men the Prophet saith
thus: The fool hath said in his heart there is no God. Such a fool
is every one that loveth or liveth in sin, and chooseth the love
of the world as the rest of his soul; he saith there is no God,
not with his mouth, for he will speak of Him sometimes, when the
world goes well with him, as it were in reverence of Him, saying:
Blessed be God. And sometimes in despite, when he is angry against
God or his neighbour and sweareth by his blessed body or any of
his members. But he saith in his thoughts that there is no God,
and that is because he imagineth that God seeth not his sin, or
that He will not punish it so severely as the Scripture saith; or
that He will forgive him his sin though He see it; or else that
there shall no Christian be damned, do he never so ill. Or else,
if he fasts the fasts of our Lady, or say every day so many
prayers, or hear every day two or three Masses, or do some bodily
work, as it were for the honour of God, he thinketh he shall never
go to hell, do he never so much sin, and continue in it. This man
saith in his heart that there is no God, but is unwise, as the
Prophet saith, for he shall one day find and feel in torments that
He is a God whom he forgot and set at nought; but set by the
wealth of the world, as the Prophet saith: Pain only will give
understanding.179 For he that knoweth not this here, nor will know
it, shall know it well when he is in torments.

SECTION II

A little Counsel how Lovers of this World should do, if they will
be reformed in their Souls before their departure hence

THESE men, though they know well that they are out of grace, and
in deadly sin, they have no care nor sorrow nor thought therefore,
but give themselves to sensual mirth and worldly solace as much as
they can. And the farther they be from grace the more mirth they
make, and perchance some of them hold themselves well apaid that
they have no grace, that they may as it were the more fully and
freely follow the liking of fleshly lusts as though God were
asleep and did not see them. And this is one of the greatest
faults that can be. And thus, by their own perverseness, they stop
the light of grace from their own soul, that it may not rest
therein. The which grace, for its part, is most willing and ready
to shine to all creatures, and enter into the souls of men, that
will but be willing to receive it, even as the sun shineth upon
all creatures bodily, where it is not hindered. Thus saith St John
in the Gospel: The light shineth in darkness, and the darkness
comprehendeth it not.180 That is, these blind hearts receive not
the gracious light, nor have the benefit of it, but even as a
blind man is becompassed with the light of the sun when he
standeth in it, and yet seeth it not, nor receiveth any benefit of
it, as for going, or walking, or working by it. Even so,
spiritually, a soul blinded with deadly sin is all encompassed
with this spiritual light, and yet he is never the better, for he
is blinded, and will not see nor know his blindness, and this is
one of the greatest impediments of grace, that a man so wretched
will not, by reason of his pride, be aknown of his blindness; or
else, if he know it, careth not for it, but maketh merry, as if he
were very secure and safe.

Therefore, unto all these men that are thus blinded and bound with
the love of this world, and are fallen from the natural fairness
of man, and are become misshapen, I say and counsel that they
would think on their souls, and dispose themselves for grace as
much as they can; which they may do on this wise, if they will,
when they find themselves out of a state of grace, and overlaid
with deadly sin, let them first think with themselves what a
miserable and dangerous thing it is to be out of the state of
grace and separated from God; for there is nothing that holdeth
them from falling into the pit of hell presently, save the bare
single thread of this bodily life, whereby they hang; and what may
more easily be broken in two than a single thread? For, were the
breath stopped in their body (and that may easily happen) their
soul would presently pass out, and would instantly be in hell,
there to remain everlastingly. And if they would but thus think
with themselves for some time, they would shake and tremble at the
righteous judgements of God and at His severe punishing of sins,
and they would begin to grieve and sorrow for their sins, and for
their want of God's grace and favour, and then would they cry and
pray that they might have grace, and if they did thus, then would
grace enter in and put out darkness and hardness of heart and
weakness of their will, and give them might and strength to
forsake the false love of this world, so far at least as it is
deadly sin; for there is no soul so far from God through
wilfulness of deadly sin (I except none that liveth in this body
of sin) that may not, through grace, become righteous, and be
restored to cleanness of living, if he will but bow and submit his
will to God with humility, for to amend his life, and heartily ask
grace and forgiveness of Him, and excuse our Lord and wholly
accuse himself. For holy Writ saith: I will not, saith the Lord,
the death of a sinner, but rather that he be converted and
live,181 for our Lord's will is that the most froward man that
liveth, and who through sin is misshapen in soul, if he will but
change his will and ask grace, may be reformed to His likeness.

PART II -- CHAPTER I

OF REFORMING IN FAITH AND FEELING ALSO

That this Reforming cannot be suddenly gotten, but in length of
Time, by Grace, and much Spiritual and Corporal Industry

THE reforming in Faith, which I have before treated of, may easily
be gotten. But after this cometh reforming in Faith and Feeling,
which will not easily be gotten, but by much pains and industry.
For reforming in Faith is common to all chosen souls, though they
be in the lowest degree of charity. But reforming in Feeling is
only in those souls that are coming to the state of perfection,
and that cannot be attained unto suddenly, but after great plenty
of grace, and much and long spiritual exercising, and thereby
shall a man attain thereto, and that will be after that he is
first healed of his spiritual sickness, and after that all bitter
passions and fleshly lusts and other old feelings are burnt out of
the heart by the fire of desire: and new gracious feelings are
brought in with burning love and spiritual light. Then doth the
soul draw very near to perfection, and to reforming in feeling.

And here it is no otherwise then, as when a man through bodily
sickness is brought near to death, though he receive a medicine,
by the which he is restored, and is freed from the danger of
death, yet cannot he, therefore, presently rise up, and go to work
as a sound man may; for the feebleness of his body keeps him down,
so that he must rest, and follow the use of medicines, and use a
good diet, by measure, according to the advice of a physician,
till he hath fully recovered his health. Right so in this
spiritual business, he who through deadly sin is brought to a
spiritual death, though through the medicine of the Sacrament of
Penance he be restored to life, so that he shall not be damned,
nevertheless he is not presently whole, and cured of all his
passions and of all his fleshly desires, nor is apt for
contemplation; but he must abide a great while, and take good heed
to himself and order himself so, that he may recover perfect
health of soul; for he shall linger a great while, ere he be fully
whole. Yet if he take medicines, by the counsel of a good
spiritual Physician, and use them in time with measure and
discretion, he shall much the sooner be restored to his spiritual
strength, and come to reforming in feeling. For reforming in Faith
is the lowest state of all chosen souls, for beneath that they
cannot well be.

But reforming in feeling is the highest state in this life that
the soul can come to. But from the lowest to the highest a soul
cannot suddenly start, no more than a man that would climb upon a
ladder that is high, and setteth his foot on the lowest stave, can
at the next step get up to the highest, but must go by degrees
from one to another till he come to the highest.

Even so it is spiritually, no man becometh suddenly supreme or
high in grace, but through long exercise and cunning182 working of
the soul may he come thereto, namely when He (in whom all grace
lieth) helpeth and teacheth a wretched soul, for without His
special help and inward teaching can no soul arrive thereto.

CHAPTER II

SECTION I

The Causes why so few Souls in comparison of the Multitude of
others, come to this Reforming that is both in Faith and Feeling

BUT now thou wilt say, Since our Lord is so courteous of His
goodness, and so free of His gracious gifts, it is a wonder that
so few souls (as it seems) in comparison of the multitude of
others come to this reforming in feeling. It would seem that
either He is unwilling, but that is not so; or that He hath no
regard of His creatures, who by receiving of Faith are become His
servants.

Cause 1.

Unto this I answer that one occasion is this: Many that are
reformed in Faith, set not their hearts to profit in grace, nor to
seek a higher estate of good living, through much industry in
praying and thinking, and other bodily and spiritual exercises;
but think it enough for them to keep themselves from deadly sins,
and to stand still in the plight they are in. For they say it is
enough for them to be saved, and have the least degree in Heaven,
they will covet no more.

Thus perchance, do some souls, who are in the state of grace, and
lead an active life in the world, say or think; and it is no
wonder, for they are so busied with worldly things that are
needful to be done that they cannot fully set their hearts to
profit in spiritual exercises. But nevertheless, such proceeding
is perilous to them, for they fall daily, and are now up, and now
down, and cannot come to the stability of good living, yet are
they somewhat excusable, by reason of their condition of life. But
other men and women who are free from worldly businesses if they
will, and may have their needful sustenance without much
solicitude about it, especially religious men and women, who have
bound themselves by entering into religion to the state of
perfection, and other men also in secular estate that have good
abilities and understanding, and may (if they will dispose
themselves) come to much grace; these men are more to blame. These
persons, I say, are more to blame, for they stand still, as idle,
and will not profit in grace, nor in further seeking to come to
the love and knowledge of God.

It is dangerous to be content with a low degree of grace.

For verily it is perilous for a soul to be reformed only in Faith,
and will not seek to make any further progress, nor give himself
diligently to spiritual exercises, for so he may easily lose that
he hath, and fall again into deadly sin. For a soul cannot stand
still always in one state, for it is either profiting in grace, or
decaying through sin. For it fareth with him, as it doth with a
man that were drawn out of a pit, and when he is up, would go no
further than the pit's brink, surely he were a very fool, for a
little puff of wind, or an unwary moving of himself, might soon
cast him down again, and that worse than he was before. But if he
fly as far as he can from the brink and go forward, on further
ground, then, though there come a great storm, he is the more
secure from falling into the pit. Right so is it in this spiritual
business; he that is drawn out of the pit of sin through reforming
of Faith, and when he is out of deadly sin thinketh himself secure
enough, and therefore will not profit, but remaineth still at the
pit's brink, as near as he may, he is not wise; for upon the least
temptation of the enemy, or of his flesh, he falleth into sin
again. But if he flee from the pit, that is, if he set his heart
fully to come to more grace, and to use his best industry to come
thereto, and give himself heartily to prayer, meditating and other
good works, though great temptations rise against him, he falleth
not easily to deadly sin again.

And verily it is a wonder to me, that seeing grace is so good and
so profitable, why a man, when he hath but a little thereof, yea
so little that he can scarce have less, should say: Ho, I will
have no more of this, for I have enough. When yet I see a worldly
man, though he have of worldly goods much more than he needeth,
yet will he never say: Ho, I have enough, I will have no more of
this; but will covet more and more, and bestir all his wits and
might, and will never set a stint to his covetousness to get more.
Much more, then, should a chosen soul covet spiritual good, which
is everlasting, and which maketh a soul blessed, and never should
cease from coveting, if he did well, to get what he might get. For
he that most coveteth, most shall have; and surely if he do thus,
he shall profit and grow in grace greatly.

Cause 2.

Another cause of such fewness of souls reformed in feeling is
this: Some men that are reformed in Faith, in the beginning of
their turning to God, set themselves in a certain manner of
working, whether it be spiritual or corporal, and think ever to
hold on in that manner of working, and not to change it for any
other that cometh through grace, though it were better, imagining
the first course to be best for them to hold on in, and therefore
they rest therein, and through custom so bind themselves thereto
that when they have fulfilled it they find themselves wonderfully
well satisfied, for they imagine they have done a great good thing
therein for God. And if it chance that they be at any time
hindered from their said custom, though it be by a just occasion,
they are sad and troubled in conscience, as if they had done a
great deadly sin.

It is not good to tie ourselves to any customary devotions
unalterably.

These men hinder themselves somewhat from feeling of more grace,
for they set their perfection in a corporal work, and so they make
an end in the midst of the way, where no end is. For those
corporal or sensible customs, which men use in their beginnings,
are good, but they are but means and ways to lead a soul forward
to perfection.

And therefore he that setteth his perfection in any bodily or
spiritual exercise, which he feeleth in the beginning of his
turning to God, and will seek no further, but ever rest therein,
he hindereth himself greatly. For it is but a silly way of
trading, wherein an apprentice is ever in the same degree of
skill, and can do as much in it on the first day as he can thirty
years after. Or else, if the trade be good and subtle, he is but
of a dull wit, or an evil will that profiteth not therein.

Now it is certain, that of all crafts the service of God is most
sovereign and most subtle, and the highest and hardest to come to
perfection in it, and also the most profitable and gainful to them
that faithfully prosecute it; and therefore it seemeth that the
apprentices to it that are ever alike in learning are either dull
witted or evil willed.

I do not reprove those customs that men use in their beginnings,
whether they be corporal or spiritual, but say that they be full
good and profitable183 for them to use. But I would that they
should hold them only as a way and an entry towards spiritual
feeling, and that they use them as convenient means till better
come; and that while they use them they covet after better. And
then if better come that are more spiritual, and more drawing in
of the thoughts from fleshliness and sensuality, and vain
imaginations, if that same better thing should be hindered by
cleaving still to their former customs, that then they leave such
their custom (when it may be left without scandal or harm184 to
others) and follow that which they feel. But if neither hinder the
other, that then they use both if they may. I mean not of leaving
customs necessary through bond of law, or of rule, or of penance,
but of others voluntarily undertaken. Thus saith the Prophet in
the Psalms: Surely the lawgiver will give His blessing, they shall
go from strength to strength, and the God of Gods shall be seen in
Sion.185 That is, our Saviour will give His grace to chosen souls,
calling them from sin and making them righteous through good works
to His likeness; through which grace they shall profit and grow
from virtue to virtue till they come to Sion, that is, till they
come to contemplation in which they shall see the God of gods,
that is they shall see well that there is but one God.

SECTION II

How that without great Corporal and Spiritual Industry, and
without much Grace and Humility, Souls cannot come to reforming in
Feeling nor keep themselves therein after they come thereto

BUT now thou wilt say, since it is so, that reforming in Faith
only is so low, and so perilous to rest in, for fear of falling
again; and reforming in Feeling is so high, and so secure for them
that can arrive thereto, therefore covetest thou to know what kind
of exercises and industries were most convenient to be used for
it, by the which thou mayest profit and come thereto; or whether
there be any one certain exercise or special work by which a man
may come to that grace and that reforming in feeling.

They must strive against all sins.

To this I answer thus: Thou knowest well that what man or woman
that will dispose himself to come to cleanness of heart and to
feeling of grace, it behoveth him to use much industry and great
striving both in will and in deeds continually against the wicked
stirrings of all chief sins. Not only against pride or envy, but
against all other, with all the kinds that come out of them, as I
have said before in the First Book. For why? Passions and fleshly
desires hinder the cleanness of heart and peace of conscience. And
it behoveth him also to labour to get all virtues, not only
chastity and temperance, but also patience and mildness, charity
and humility, and all the other. And this cannot be done by one
manner of work, but by divers works, according to the divers and
sundry dispositions of men, as now praying, now meditating, now
working some good works, now proving and exercising themselves in
divers ways, in hunger, in thirst, in cold, in suffering of shame
and despite, if need be, and bodily pains and labours, for the
love of virtue and justice. This thou knowest full well, for this
thou readest in every book that treateth of good life; thus saith
every man that would stir up men's souls to the love of God. And
so it appeareth that there is no one special exercise, no certain
work by which only a soul can come to that grace, but principally
through the grace of our Lord Jesus, and by many and great deeds,
in all that he is able to do, and yet all is little enough.

And one reason why there must be such painstaking is this: That
since our Lord Jesus Himself is the special master and teacher of
this art, and the special Physician of spiritual sicknesses; for
without Him all is nought; it is therefore reasonable, that as He
teacheth and stirreth, so a man should follow and work. But he is
a simple master that cannot teach his scholar whilst he is
learning but only one lesson, and he is an unskilful physician,
that by one medicine would heal all sores. Therefore our Lord
Jesus, that is so wise and so good, to show His wisdom and
goodness teacheth divers lessons to His scholars, after that they
profit in their learning, and giveth to divers souls divers and
several medicines according to the nature of their sickness.

Another reason also is this: If there were one certain work by
which a soul might come to the perfect love of God, then might a
man fancy that he might come thereto by his own endeavours, and
through his own travail only; as a merchant cometh to his riches
only by his own industry and travail. But it is not so in this
spiritual business, concerning the love of God, for he that will
serve God wisely and come to the perfect love of God, he will
covet to have none other reward but Him only. But then for to have
him may no creature deserve by his own travail or industry; for
though a man could labour both corporally and spiritually as much
as could all the creatures that ever have been, yet could he not,
for all that, only by his own working deserve to have God for his
reward; for He is the sovereign bliss and endless goodness, and
surpasseth without comparison all men's deserts; and therefore He
cannot be gotten by any man's special working, as a temporal
reward may, for He is free and giveth to whom He will, and when He
will, neither for this, nor for that, nor in this time, nor after
that time. For though a soul work all that he can and may all his
lifetime, yet shall he never have the perfect love of Jesus till
our Lord will freely give it.

Neither grace without working nor working without grace.

Nevertheless, on the other side, I say that God useth not to give
such grace unless a man do work and travail all that he can and
may; yea, till it seem to him that he can work no more, or else be
in full will and desire to do more if he could. And so it seemeth,
that neither grace only, without the full working of the soul so
far as it can, nor the man's working alone, without grace,
bringeth the soul to the reforming in feeling (the which reforming
consisteth in perfect love and charity). But that both joined
together, that is grace joined to working, bringeth into a soul
the blessed feeling of perfect love. The which grace cannot rest
fully, but only on humble souls that be full of the fear of God.

Therefore I may affirm that he that hath not humility, nor doth
use his industry and labour, cannot come to this reforming in
feeling. And he hath not full humility, that understandeth and
perceiveth not himself truly as he is. As thus: He that doth all
the good deeds that he can, as fasting, watching, wearing hair-
cloth, and all other sufferings of bodily penance, or doth all the
outward works of mercy to his neighbour, or else internal works,
as praying, weeping, sighing, meditating, if he always rest in
them, and lean so much on them, and so greatly regardeth them in
his own sight and esteem that he presumeth on his own deserts, and
thinketh himself ever rich and good, holy and virtuous, verily as
long as he feeleth himself thus, he is not humble enough. No;
though he say or think that all that he doth is of God's gift, and
not of himself, he is not yet humble enough; for he doth not as
yet make himself naked of all his good deeds, nor truly poor in
spirit, nor feels himself to be nothing, as indeed he is. And
verily, till a soul through grace is come sensibly to annihilate
herself and strip herself of all the good deeds that she doth,
through the sight and beholding of the truth of Jesus, she is not
perfectly humble; for what is humility but truth? Verily nothing
else. And therefore he that through grace can see Jesus, how that
He doth all, and himself doth just nothing, but suffereth Jesus to
work in him what He pleaseth, he is humble. But this is very hard,
and as it were impossible, and unreasonable (to a man that worketh
all by human reason, and seeth no further) for to do many good
deeds, and then to attribute all to Jesus and set himself at
nought. But whoso can have a spiritual sight of the truth, he
shall think it full true and full reasonable to do so. And verily
he that hath this sight shall do never the less, but shall be
stirred up to travail corporally and spiritually, much the more,
and with a better will. And this may be one cause why some men
peradventure labour and travail,186 and pine their wretched bodies
with outrageous penance all their lifetime, and are ever saying
prayers and psalms and many beads, and yet cannot come to the
spiritual feeling of the love of God, as it seems some do in short
time, with less pains, for they have not that humility I spake of.

Also on the other side I say: He that useth not his industry, but
thinketh thus with himself, to what end should I take pains? Why
should I pray, or meditate, or watch, or fast, or do any other
bodily penance to attain to such grace, seeing it cannot be gotten
or had but only by the free gift of Jesus? Therefore I will
continue in my sensuality as I am, and do even nothing of any such
corporal or spiritual works; but expect till He give it, for if He
be pleased to give it, He asketh no working of me, how much soever
or how little I do, I shall have it, and if He be pleased not to
give it, labour I never so hard, I shall get it never the sooner.
He that saith thus shall never come to this reforming, for he
draweth himself wilfully to idleness of the flesh, and disenableth
himself for the receiving of the gift of grace, inasmuch as he
layeth aside and putteth from him both inward working, which
consisteth in a lasting desire and longing after Jesus, and
outward working, by exercising his body in outward deeds, so that
he shall never receive the said grace.

Therefore I say that he that hath not true humility, nor is very
serious and diligent, either only in internal exercises and
continual desire towards God by prayer, and devout affections and
thoughts of Him, or else both inward and outward, he cannot come
to this spiritual forming of His image.

CHAPTER III

An Entry or good Beginning of a Spiritual Journey, showing how a
Soul should behave herself in intending and working that will come
to this Reforming, by example of a Pilgrim going to Jerusalem

The shortest and readiest way to attain hereto.

NEVERTHELESS, for that thou covetest to know some manner of
working by which thou mayest the sooner attain to this reforming,
I shall show thee, as well as I can, the shortest and readiest
help that I know in this working. And how that may be I shall tell
thee by an example of a good pilgrim in this wise. There was a man
that would go to Jerusalem and because he knew not the way he came
to another man, who he believed knew the way thither better, and
asked him whether he might come to that city, who answered that he
could not come thither without great pains and travail, for the
way is long and perilous, and full of great thieves and robbers
and many other hindrances there be that befall a man in his going,
and also there be many several ways as it seemeth leading
thitherward. And many men travelling thitherward are oftentimes
killed or robbed, and so may not come to that place which they
desire. Nevertheless, there is one way, the which whosoever taketh
and holdeth to it, I will undertake (saith he) he shall come to
that city of Jerusalem, and shall never lose his life, nor be
slain, nor die by default, though he should oft be robbed and well
beaten, and suffer much pain in the going, yet his life shall be
safe. Then said the pilgrim, so I may have my life saved, and come
to the place that I covet, I care not what mischief I suffer in
going. And therefore, tell and advise me what you think necessary,
and I promise you on a certainty that I will follow your counsel.
That other man answered and said thus: Lo, I set thee in the right
way; this is the way, and see that thou bear in mind that which I
tell thee. Whatsoever thou seest, hearest, or feelest, that would
stay or hinder thee in the way, stick not at it, willingly consent
not to it, abide not with it, behold it not, like it not, fear it
not, but still go forward holding on thy way, and ever think and
say with thyself that thou fain wouldst be at Jerusalem for that
thou covetest and that thou desirest; and nought else but that,
and if men rob thee and spoil thee, beat thee, scorn thee, despise
thee, do not thou strive against such their doings, if thou mean
to have thy life safe, but be content with the harm thou
receivest, and hold on thy way, as if all that were nothing, lest
thou receive more harm. Also if men would seek to stay thee by
telling tales, and feed thee with lies or conceits to draw thee to
merriment, or to forsake or prolong thy pilgrimage, give them a
deaf ear and answer them not again, and say naught else but that
thou wouldst fain be at Jerusalem. And if men proffer thee gifts,
and would make thee rich with worldly goods, listen not to them,
but think ever on Jerusalem. And if thou wilt hold this course and
do that which I have said, I will undertake for thy life, that
thou shalt not be slain, but that thou shalt come to that place
that thou desirest.

Now to apply this spiritually to our purpose: Jerusalem is, as
much as to say, a sight of peace; and betokeneth contemplation in
perfect love of God; for contemplation is nothing else but a sight
of God, which is very peace. Then if thou covet to come to this
blessed sight of very peace, and be a true pilgrim towards
Jerusalem, though it be so that I was never there, nevertheless,
as far forth as I can, I shall set thee in the way towards it.

The beginning of the high way, in which thou shalt go, is
reforming in Faith, grounded humbly on the faith and on the laws
of holy Church as I have said before, for trust assuredly, though
you have sinned heretofore, if you be now reformed by the
Sacrament of Penance, after the law of holy Church, that thou art
in the right way. Now then, since thou art in the safe way, if
thou wilt speed in thy going and make a good journey, it behoveth
thee to hold these two things often in thy mind: humility and
Love; and often say to thyself, I am nothing, I have nothing, I
covet nothing, but one. Thou shalt have the meaning of these words
in thine intent, and in the habit of thy soul perpetually, though
thou have them not always expressly in thy thought (for that is
not necessary). Humility saith, I am nothing, I have nothing; Love
saith, I covet nothing, but one, and that is Jesus. These two
stirrings well fastened, with the minding of Jesus, make good
music in the harp of the soul, when they be cunningly struck upon
with the finger of reason; for the lower thou smitest upon the
one, the higher soundeth the other. The less thou feelest that
thou art, or that thou hast of thyself, through Humility, the more
thou covetest for to have of Jesus, through desire of love. I mean
not only that Humility which a soul feeleth by the sight and sense
of his own sin, for frailness and wretchedness of this life, or of
the wretchedness of his neighbour; for though this kind of
Humility be true and wholesome, nevertheless it is boisterous and
fleshly in comparison of that other, not so clean, nor soft, nor
lovely. I mean that Humility which a soul feeleth through grace,
in the sight and beholding of the endless being, and the wonderful
goodness of Jesus, and if thou canst not see it with thy spiritual
eye, yet that thou believe it; for through this sight of his
being, either in full faith or in feeling, thou shalt esteem
thyself not only the most wretched creature that is, but also as
nothing in the substance of thy soul, though thou hadst never done
any sin. And this is lovely Humility; for in respect of Jesus (who
is truly all) thou art just nothing, and so must thou think that
thou hast just nothing, but art as a vessel that standeth ever
empty, and as if nothing were therein, as of itself; for do thou
never so many good deeds outward or inward, until thou have and
feel that thou hast the love of Jesus, thou hast just nothing. For
with that precious liquor only may thy soul be filled, and with
none other. And forasmuch as that thing alone is so precious and
noble, therefore whatever else thou hast, or what thou dost, hold
and esteem it as nothing as to rest in, without the sight and the
love of Jesus. Cast it all behind thee, and forget it, that thou
mayest have this, which is the best of all. Just as a true
pilgrim, going towards Jerusalem, leaveth behind him house and
land, wife and children, and maketh himself poor and bare from all
things that he hath, that he may go lightly without letting. Right
so, if thou wilt be a spiritual pilgrim, thou shalt strip thyself
naked of all that thou hast, that are either good deeds or bad,
and cast them all behind thee, that thou be so poor in thy own
feeling that there be nothing of thy own working that thou wilt
restingly lean on; but ever desiring more grace and love, and ever
seeking the spiritual presence of Jesus. And if thou dost thus,
then shalt thou resolve in thy heart fully and wholly that thou
wilt be at Jerusalem, and at no other place but there; that is,
thou shalt purpose in thy heart wholly and fully that thou wilt
nothing have but the love of Jesus and the spiritual sight of Him
in such manner as He shall please to show Himself; for to that end
only art thou made and redeemed, and He it is that is thy
beginning and thy end, thy joy and thy bliss. And therefore
whatsoever thou hast, be thou never so rich in other deeds
spiritual or corporal (unless thou have this love that I speak of,
and know and feel that thou hast it) hold and esteem that thou
hast right nothing. Imprint this well in the desire of thy soul,
and cleave fast thereto, and it shall save thee from all perils in
thy going, that thou shalt never perish, and it shall save thee
from the thieves and robbers which I call unclean spirits, that
though they spoil thee and beat thee by divers temptations, thy
life shall ever be safe; and in brief, if thou keep it, as I have
said, thou shalt escape all perils and mischiefs, and come to the
city of Jerusalem in a short time.

Now then, since thou art in the way, and knowest the name of the
place, and whither thou tendest, begin therefore to go thy
journey. Thy setting forth is naught else but spiritual working,
and bodily also, when there is need, which thou shalt use
according to discretion in this wise. What work soever it is that
thou shalt do (according to thy degree, and the estate thou art
in), corporally or spiritually, if it help and further this
gracious desire that thou hast to love Jesus, and make it more
whole, more easy, and more mighty to all virtues and to all
goodness, that work I hold the best, be it preaching, be it
meditating, reading, or working; and as long as that work
strengtheneth most thy heart and thy will to the love of Jesus,
and draweth thy affections and thy thoughts farthest off from
worldly vanities, it is good to use it; and if so be that through
use the savour or good taste thereof groweth less, and thou
thinkest of some other work that savoureth more, and thou feelest
more grace in that other, take the other, and leave that. For
though thy desire and the yearning of thy heart to Jesus ought
ever to be unchangeable, nevertheless thy spiritual works that
thou art to use, in praying or thinking, for the feeding and
nourishing thy desire, may be divers, and may well be changed,
after that thou feelest thyself disposed through grace severally
to apply thy heart to them; for it fareth with works and this
desire as it doth with sticks and a fire, for the more sticks are
laid to the fire, the greater is the fire. Right so, the more
several spiritual works that a man hath in his design, to keep
entire this desires the mightier and more burning shall his desire
be to God.

And therefore consider wisely what work thou canst best do, and
which most helpeth to keep whole this desire of Jesus (if so be
thou be free, and not bound by any obligation), and that do. Bind
not thyself to voluntary customs unchangeably, which may hinder
the liberty of thy heart to correspond or answer the motion or
invitation of Jesus, if His grace at any time should specially
visit thee. And I shall tell thee what customs are ever good and
necessary to be kept, that is, such as consist in the getting of
virtues, and in hindering or resisting of sin, such customs should
never be left; for thou shouldst ever be humble, patient, sober
and chaste, if thou do as thou shouldst. But the customs of other
things, if they hinder a better good, are good to be laid aside,
giving place to that which would be better for us. As thus, if a
man have a custom to say so many beads or prayers, or to meditate
of such or such a subject, for so long a time, or to watch, or
kneel thus long, or any other such bodily deed, these customs are
to be left sometimes when reasonable cause requireth, or when more
grace cometh otherwise, or in some other exercise.

CHAPTER IV

Of certain Temptations and Lettings which Souls feel from their
Spiritual Enemies, in their Spiritual knowing and going towards
Jerusalem, and the Remedies against them

NOW that thou art in the way, and knowest how thou shouldst go,
beware of thy enemies, that will be busy to let thee if they can.
For their intent is to put out of thy heart that desire, and that
longing that thou hast to the love of Jesus, and to drive thee
home again to the love of worldly vanities; for that nothing
grieveth them so much as this desire. These enemies are
principally fleshly desires, and vain fears, which rise out of thy
heart, through the corruption of thy fleshly nature, and would
hinder thy desire of the love of God, that they may fully and
peaceably possess thy heart; these are thy nearest enemies. Also
other enemies there are, as unclean spirits, which are busy with
slights and wiles to deceive thee. But one remedy hast thou, which
I mentioned before, and that is, that whatsoever they say, believe
them not; but hold on thy way, and only desire the love of Jesus.
Answer them ever on this wise: I am nothing, I have nothing, I
covet nothing only the love of our Lord Jesus.

The first temptation.

If thy enemies, by suggestions in thy soul, say unto thee that
thou hast not made thy Confession aright, or that there is some
old former sin hid in thy heart that thou knowest not, nor never
madest thy Confession aright of it, and therefore thou must turn
home again, and leave off thy desire, and go confess thyself
better; believe not this saying, for it is false, for thou art
rightly confessed, and so do thou surely hope and trust; and that
thou art in the right way, and that thou needest no further to
ransack thy soul for confession of that which is past, hold on thy
way, and think only on Jerusalem.

The second temptation. The third temptation.

Also, if they say that thou art not worthy to have the love of
God, and therefore why shouldst thou covet that which thou wilt
not be able to attain, nor art not worthy of; believe them not but
go on, and say thus: Not because I am worthy, but because I am
unworthy, therefore would I love God; for if I had His love, that
would make me worthy; and since I was created to that end, though
I should never have it, yet will I covet it, and therefore will I
pray and think that I may get it. And then if thy enemies see that
thou beginnest to wax bold, and well-willed to thy work, they will
begin to be afraid of thee, yet will they not cease to seek to
stay and hinder thee as much as they can, as long as thou art
going in the ways what with affrighting and threatening thee on
one side, and what with flattering and vain pleasing thee on the
other side, to make thee break thy purpose and turn home again.
And they will say thus: If thou hold on thus thy desire to Jesus,
travailing so fervently as thou now beginnest, thou wilt fall into
bodily sickness, or thou wilt craze thy head and fall into fancies
or melancholy, as thou seest some do; or thou wilt fall into
poverty, or bodily mischief, and none will be able to help thee,
or thou wilt fall into secret temptations and illusions of the
devil, that thou shalt not be able to help thyself; for it is very
dangerous for any man to give himself over to the love of God, and
leave all the world, and covet nothing but only the love of Him.
For that many perils may fall out that a man knows nothing of, and
therefore turn home again, and leave off this desire, for thou
shalt never bring it to pass, and do as other worldly men do.

The fourth temptation

Thus will thy enemies say, but believe them not, but hold on thy
desire, and say naught else; but that thou wouldst have Jesus, and
be Jerusalem; and if they perceive that thy will is so strong,
that thou wilt not give over, neither for fear of sin, nor of
sickness, for fancies nor for frenzies, for doubts nor for dreads
of spiritual temptations, for mischiefs nor for poverty, for life
nor for death, but ever seekest and longest after one thing, and
nothing else but that one thing, and turnest a deaf ear to them,
as though thou heardest them not, and holdest thee on stiffly and
constantly in thy course of prayer, and in thy other spiritual
exercises without stinting, but yet with discretion, after the
counsel and directions of thy Superior, or of thy ghostly Father,
then begin they to be wroth, and to come a little nearer to thee.
Then they begin to rob thee and beat thee, and do thee all the
shame that they can, and that is, when they make that all the
deeds that thou doest, be they never so well done, are judged by
others to be evil, and turned into the worse part. And whatsoever
thou wouldst do, or have done for the help or comfort of thy body
or soul, it shall be letted or hindered by other men, so that thou
shalt be put from thy will in everything which thou reasonably
desirest. And all this they do, that thou mayest be stirred up to
anger, or melancholy, or evil will against thy neighbour. But
against all these diseases, and all other that thou mayest feel,
use this remedy. Take Jesus into thy mind, and trouble not thyself
with them, nor be angry; tarry not with them, but think on thy
lesson: That thou art nothing, that thou hast nothing, that thou
canst nothing lose of earthly goods, that thou covetest nothing
but the love of Jesus; and hold on thy way, with thy exercises, to
Jerusalem. And though thou be sometimes tarried and letted in thy
way, through thy frailty, with such inconveniences as befall thy
bodily life, through evil will of man, or malice of the enemy; as
soon as thou canst, come again to thyself, leave off the thinking
of thy inconveniences, and go on with thy exercise. Abide not long
upon the thinking of those thy defects for fear of thy enemies.

The fifth temptation.

And after this, when they see that thou art so well willed, that
thou art not angry, nor heavy, nor wroth, nor much moved against
any creature for aught that they can do or say against thee, but
settest thy heart fully to suffer all that may fall, ease or
unease, praise or dispraise, and that thou dost esteem or regard
nothing so that thou mayest keep thy thought and thy desire whole
to the love of God, then are they much abashed. But then will they
set upon thee with flattery and vain pleasing, and that is when
they set before thee all thy good deeds and virtues, and tell thee
that all men praise thee and speak well of thy holiness, and how
all men love thee and worship thee for thy holy living. Thus will
thy enemies do, that thou mayest believe them, and take delight in
this vain joy, and rest therein. But if thou do well thou shalt
esteem all such janglings and suggestions to be false flatterings
of thy enemy, that proffereth thee to drink venom tempered with
honey, and therefore refuse it, and say thou wilt have none of it,
but thou wouldst be at Jerusalem.

Such lettings shalt thou feel, or the like, what from thy flesh,
and what from the world, and what of the fiend, more than I can
rehearse. Now for as long as a man suffereth his thoughts
willingly to run about the world in beholding of sundry things, he
perceiveth few lettings. But as soon as he draweth all his
thoughts and his yearnings to one thing only, to have it, to know
it, and to love it, which is Jesus; then shall he feel many
painful lettings; for whatsoever thing he feeleth which is not
that which he coveteth, that same thing is a letting to him.
Therefore I have set down some of them for examples in particular.
And moreover in general, I shall now tell thee that whatsoever
stirring thou feelest of the flesh, or of the fiend, either
pleasant or painful, bitter or sweet, lovely or dreadful, gladsome
or sorrowful, that would draw down thy thoughts or thy desires
from the love of Jesus to worldly vanities, and would hinder or
cool thy spiritual covetousness that thou hast to the love of Him,
and would have thy heart to be occupied with that stirring and
rest upon it, set it at naught, entertain it not willingly, tarry
not therewith too long. But if it be any worldly thing that is
necessary to be done, for thyself or thy neighbour, dispatch it,
and quit thee soon of it, and bring it to an end that it hang not
on thy heart. But if it be another thing that may be spared and is
not very needful, or else concerns thee not, heed it not, jangle
or dally not therewith, nor trouble or vex thyself about it, fear
it not, like it not, but cast it out of thy heart speedily, and
say thus: I am nothing, I have nothing, I seek nor covet nothing
but the love of Jesus. Fasten thy thoughts to this desire and
strengthen it, and maintain it by prayer and other spiritual
exercises that thou forget it not, and it shall lead thee in the
right way, and save thee from all dangers; that though thou feel
them thou shalt not perish, and I hope that it shall bring thee to
the perfect love of our Lord Jesus.

Nevertheless on the other side, I say also, what work or what
stirring it is that may help or strengthen or nourish thy desire,
and draw thy thoughts farthest from lust and the minding of the
world, more entire and more burning to the love of God, whether it
be praying, meditating, reading or hearing, solitariness or being
in company, silence or talking, going or sitting, hold to it for
the time, and exercise thyself therein as long as any savour or
relish therein lasteth, if it be so that thou take therewith meat,
and drink, and sleep, as a pilgrim doth, and use discretion in thy
exercises, after the advice and directions of thy superior. For a
pilgrim, though he be in never so great haste in his journey, yet
will he eat and drink and sleep. Do thou likewise; and though it
hinder and stay thee at one time, it shall further thee at another
time.

CHAPTER V

Of an evil Day and a good Night, and what they mean, and how the
Love of the World is likened to an evil Day, and the love of God
to a good Night

IF thou wouldst know then what this desire is, verily it is Jesus,
for He worketh this desire in thee, and giveth it thee; and He it
is that desireth in thee, and He it is that is desired; He is all,
and He doth all, if thou couldst see Him. Thou dost nothing, but
sufferest Him to work in thy soul, and assentest to Him with great
gladness of heart, that He will vouchsafe to do so in thee. Thou
art nothing else but a reasonable instrument by which and in which
He worketh; and therefore when thou feelest thy thoughts, through
the touching of grace, taken up with the desire of Jesus, with a
mighty devout will for to please Him and love Him, then think that
thou hast Jesus, for He it is that thou desirest. Behold Him well,
for He goeth before thee, not in bodily shape, but insensibly, by
secret presence of His power. Therefore see Him spiritually if
thou canst, and fasten all thy thoughts and affections to Him, and
follow Him wheresoever He goeth; for He will lead thee the right
way to Jerusalem, that is to the sight of peace and contemplation.
Thus prayed the Prophet to the Father of Heaven, saying: Send out
Thy light and Thy truth (that is Thy Son Jesus), and He shall lead
me (by desire in me) to Thy holy hill and to Thy tabernacles.187
That is, to the feeling of perfect love and height of
Contemplation.

Of this desire the Prophet Isaias speaketh thus: Memoriale tuum,
&c. Lord Jesus, the remembrance of Thee is imprinted in the desire
of my soul, for my soul hath desired Thee in the night, and my
spirit hath coveted Thee in all its thoughts.188 The Prophet saith
he desired God all in the night, being a space betwixt two days;
for when one day is ended another day beginneth not presently, but
first cometh night which parteth the days, being sometimes long
and sometimes short, and then after that cometh another day. The
Prophet meaneth not only of this manner of night, but he meaneth a
spiritual night. Thou shalt understand that there be two days or
two lights. The first is a false light, the second a true light.
The false light is the love of this worlds which a man hath in
himself through the corruption of nature. The true light is the
perfect love of Jesus felt through grace in a man's soul. The love
of this world is a false light, for it passeth away and lasteth
not, and so it performeth not that which it promiseth. This light
did the enemy promise to Adam when he stirred him to sin, and said
thus: Your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods. And
therein he said truth. For when Adam had sinned, forthwith his
inner eye was shut, and spiritual light withdrawn, and his outward
eye was opened, and he felt and saw a new light of fleshly liking
and worldly love which he saw not before. And so saw he a new day,
but this was an evil day, for this was it that Job cursed, when he
said thus: Let the day perish wherein I was born.189 He cursed not
the day running on in the year which God made, but he cursed this
day which man made, that is the concupiscence and the love of this
world in the which he was born, though he felt it not. That day
and that light he asked of God that it might perish and last no
longer. But the everlasting love of Jesus is a true day and a
blessed light; for God is both love and light, and He is
everlasting, as St John saith: He that loveth God dwelleth in the
light.190 And now, what man perceiveth and seeth the love of this
world to be false and failing, and therefore will forsake it and
seek the love of Jesus, yet may he not for all that presently feel
the love of Him, but he must abide awhile in the night, for he
cannot suddenly come from that one light to that other, that is
from the love of the world to perfect love of God. This night is
nought else but a forbearing and a withdrawing of the thought and
of the soul from earthly things by great desire and yearning for
to love and see and feel Jesus and spiritual things. This is the
night; for even as the night is dark, and doth hide all bodily
things, and a time of ceasing from all bodily works; even so a man
that setteth himself fully to think on Jesus, and to desire only
the love of Him, is careful to hide his thoughts from vain
beholding and perceiving, and his affections from fleshly liking
and loving of all bodily creatures, whereby his thoughts may
become free and not be subject, nor his affections bound or pinned
to, or troubled with anything lower or worse than himself. And if
he come to this pass then is it night with him, for then he is in
darkness. But this is a good night and a light darkness, for it is
a stopping out of the false love of this world, and it is an
approaching of the true day. And verily the darker that this night
is the nearer is the true day of the love of Jesus; for the more
that a soul can, through longing after God, be hid from the
noise191 and stirrings of fleshly affections and unclean thoughts,
the nearer is she to feel the light of the love of Him, for it is
even at her. Thus seemeth the Prophet to mean, when he saith: When
I sit in darkness our Lord is my light. That is, when my soul is
hid from all stirrings of sin as it were in sleep, then is our
Lord my light, for then approacheth He by His grace to show me His
light, nevertheless this night is sometime painful. As first, when
a man is very foul, and is not used through grace to be often in
this darkness, but would fain have it, and be in it, and therefore
he setteth his thoughts and his desires to Godward as much as he
can, he would not feel nor think but only of Him, and because he
cannot easily have it, therefore it is painful for the custom and
familiarity192 that he hath formerly had with the sins of the
world, and of fleshly affections and earthly things; and his daily
fleshly deeds press so upon him, and continually strike in, and
through force draw down the soul to them, that he cannot well be
hid from them so soon as he would. Therefore this darkness is
painful to him, and especially when grace toucheth him not
abundantly, instilling some extraordinary devotion into him.
Nevertheless if it be so with thee, be not too sad or heavy for
it, nor strive much as though thou wouldst by force drive them out
of thy thoughts, for thou canst not do so; but do thou rather
expect grace, suffer quietly, and force not thyself too much. But
slyly (if thou canst) draw thy desire and spiritual eye to Jesus,
as if thou didst not care for them. For be thou assured, when thou
wouldest desire Jesus, and think only of Him, and thou art not
able freely to do so, for the pressing in of such worldly
thoughts, thou art certainly coming out of the false day and art
entering into this darkness. But thy darkness is not restful, not
quiet to thee by reason of thy uncleanness and unacquaintedness
with it, and therefore use it often, and in process of time
through feeling of grace it will be more easy and more restful to
thee, and that is when thy soul through grace is made so free, and
so able and so good and so gathered into itself that it listeth to
think on just nothing, then is it in a good darkness. This nothing
I mean thus: that a soul may through grace be gathered into itself
freely and wholly, and not be driven against its will, nor drawn
down by force for to think, or like, or love with cleaving of
affection to any sin, or any earthly thing vainly, then thinketh
the soul just nought, for then it thinketh of no earthly thing
cleavingly. This is a rich nought, and this nought and this night
is a great ease to the soul that desireth the love of Jesus, it is
in ease as to the thoughts of any earthly thing, nevertheless it
is full busy to think on Him.

What thing then maketh this darkness? Verily nought else but a
gracious desire to have the love of Jesus, for that desire and
that longing that it hath at that time to the love of God, for to
see Him and have Him, driveth out of the heart all worldly
vanities and fleshly affections, and gathereth the soul into
itself, and busieth it only in thinking how it may come to the
love of Him. And at that time she may freely and devoutedly behold
Jesus, whether she would pray or meditate, and so it bringeth her
to this right nothing; and verily it is not altogether dark nor
nothing when it thinketh thus; for though it be dark from false
light, it is not altogether dark from the true light. For Jesus,
that is both love and light, is in this darkness, whether it be
painful or restful. If it be painful, then is Jesus in the soul,
as travelling in the desire and longing after light, but He is not
yet as resting in love, nor as showering His light. And therefore
it is called night and darkness, inasmuch as the soul is hid from
the false light of the world, and hath not yet a full feeling of
true light, but is in expecting of that blessed love of God which
it desireth.

Therefore if thou wouldst know when thou art in this secure
darkness, and when not, thou mayest try it thus, and seek no
further. When thou feelest thy intent and thy will fully set for
to desire God, and think only on Him, thou mayest, as it were, at
first ask thyself in thy own thoughts whether thou covetest to
have anything of this life for love of the thing itself, or for to
have the using of any of thy bodily senses in any creature. And
then if the eye answer then thus: I would see just nothing, and
thy mouth: I would savour just nothing, and thine ear: I would
hear just nothing; and thy body: I would feel just nothing; and
after that, thy heart say: I would think just nothing of earthly
things, nor of bodily deeds, nor would have my affections fastened
fleshly to any creature but only in God and to Godwards, if I
could; and when they all answer thus to thee, and do it full
readily being touched by grace, then art thou entered somewhat
into this darkness. For though withal thou feel and perceive
within thee the presentations and profferings of vain thoughts,
and pressing in of fleshly affections; nevertheless thou art in
this profitable darkness, if it be so that thy thoughts be not
fixed to them; for such vain imaginations that fall into the heart
unadvisedly, they trouble indeed this darkness, and somewhat
molest the soul because it would be hid from them, but cannot; but
they do not take away the profit of this darkness, for the soul
shall by this means in time come to restful darkness. And then is
this darkness restful when the soul is hid for a time from the
painful feeling of all such vain thoughts, and is rested only in
the desire and longing after Jesus, with a spiritual beholding of
Him, as it shall be said hereafter; but this lasteth whole and
entire but a short time, yet though it be but for a short time,
yet it is full profitable.

CHAPTER VI

How that the Desire of Jesus felt in this lightsome Darkness
slayeth all Motions of Sin, and enableth the Soul to perceive
spiritual Lightnings from the heavenly Jerusalem, that is, Jesus

SEEING then this darkness and this night consisting only in the
desire and longing after the love of Jesus with a blind thinking
on Him, is so good and so restful, though it be but short, how
good then, and how blessed it is to feel His love, and to be
illuminated with His blessed invisible light thereby to see the
truth, the which light a soul receiveth when the night passeth,
and the day springeth.

This I conceive was the night that the Prophet meant when he said:
My soul hath desired Thee in the night, as I have said before. It
is much better to be hid in this dark night from beholding of the
world,193 though it were painful, than to be out in false liking
of this world, which seemeth so shining, and so comfortable to
them that are blind in the knowledge of spiritual light; for when
thou art in this darkness, thou art much nearer Jerusalem than
when thou art in the midst of the false light. Therefore apply thy
heart fully to the stirrings of grace, and use thy self to dwell
in this darkness, and by often essaying to be acquainted
therewith, and it shall soon be made restful to thee, and the true
light of spiritual knowing shall spring up to thee, not all at
once, but secretly by little and little, as the Prophet saith: To
them that dwell in the country of the shadow of death light is
sprung up.194 That is, light of grace springeth, and shall spring
to all them that can dwell in the shadow of death; that is in this
darkness which is like to death; for as death slayeth a living
body and all its fleshly senses, right so the desire of the love
of Jesus felt in this darkness slayeth all sins, all fleshly
affections, and all unclean thoughts for the time, and then dost
thou hasten to draw near to Jerusalem. Thou art not there yet, but
by some small sudden lightnings that glide out of small caves from
that city, shalt thou be able to see it afar off ere thou come to
it, for know thou well, though that thy soul be in this restful
darkness without the trouble of worldly vanities, it is not yet
clothed all in light, nor turned all into the fire of love. But it
perceiveth full well that there is somewhat above itself that it
knoweth not, nor hath not yet, but would have it, and burningly
yearneth after it, and that is nought else but the sight of
Jerusalem outwardly, which is like to a city which the Prophet
Ezechiel saw in his visions.195 He saith that he saw a city upon a
hill towards the south, that to his sight when it was measured was
no more in length and breadth than a reed, that is six cubits and
a palm of length. But as soon as he was brought into the city, and
looked about him, then he saw that it was wondrous great, for he
saw many halls, and chambers both open and secret; he saw gates
and porches without and within, and many more buildings than I now
speak of, and it was in length and breadth many hundred cubits,
that it seemed a wonder to him that this city was so long and so
large within, that seemed so little to his sight when he was
without.

This city betokeneth the perfect love of God set upon the hill of
Contemplation, which to the sight of a soul that without the
feeling of it travelleth in desire towards it seemeth somewhat,
but it seemeth but a little thing, no more than a rood, that is,
six cubits and a palm of length. By six cubits are understood the
perfection of man's work; and by the palm, a little touch of
Contemplation. He seeth well that there is such a thing that
passeth the deservings of all the workings of man, like as a palm
is surpassed by six cubits, but he seeth not within what it is,
yet if he can come within the city of Contemplation, then seeth he
much more than he saw at first.

CHAPTER VII

How a Man shall know false Illuminations that are feigned by the
Enemy, from the true Light of knowing that cometh out of Jesus,
and by what tokens

BUT now beware of the midday fiend that feigneth light as if it
came out of Jerusalem, and is not so; for the fiend seeth that our
Lord Jesus showeth light to His lovers of truth; therefore for the
deceiving of them that are unwise, he showeth a light that is not
true under colour of a true light, and cozeneth them.
Nevertheless, how a soul may know the true light when it shineth
from God, and when it is feigned by the enemy shall I declare (as
methinketh) by an example of the firmament.

Sometime the firmament showeth a light from the sun, which seemeth
to be the sun and is not; and sometimes showeth the true sun
truly. To know the one from the other is thus: the feigned sun
showeth himself only betwixt two black rainy clouds; and then
because the sun is near, there shineth out from the clouds a light
as if it were a sun, but is not. But the true sun showeth itself
when the firmament is clear, or much cleared from black clouds.
Now to our purpose. Some men, as it seems, forsake the love of the
world and would come to the love of God, and to the light of
understanding Him, but they would not come through that darkness
which I spake of before. They will not know themselves truly and
humbly what they have been heretofore, or what they are yet
through sin, nor how naught they are in their nature against God.
They are not busy to enter into themselves, all other outward
things being left and flee all wicked stirrings that rise in their
hearts of Pride, Envy, Anger, or other sins through a lasting
desire to Jesus in praying and meditating, in silence, and in
weeping, and in other corporal and spiritual exercises as devout
and holy men have done. But as soon as they have forsaken the
world, as it were outwardly in appearance, or else soon after,
they imagine that they are holy and able to have the spiritual
understanding of the Gospel and of holy Writ, and, namely, if they
can literally fulfil the commandments of God and keep themselves
from corporal sins, then they imagine that they love God
perfectly. And therefore they will presently preach and teach all
other men, as if they had received grace of understanding in
perfection of charity through special gift of the Holy Ghost. And
also they are much more stirred, forasmuch as they feel sometimes
much knowledge as it were suddenly given to them without great
study before had, and also much fervour of love as it seemeth for
to preach truth and righteousness to their neighbour. Therefore
they hold it as a grace of God that visiteth them with His blessed
light above other souls. Nevertheless, if they will look well
about them, they shall find that this light of knowledge and that
fervour which they feel cometh not from the true Sun, which is our
Lord Jesus, but cometh from the midday fiend that feigneth light,
and likeneth him to the Sun, and therefore shall he be known by
the foresaid example.

Light of knowledge, that is feigned by the fiend to a dark soul,
is showed betwixt two black rainy clouds. Whereof the upper cloud
is presumption and exalting of himself, and the lower cloud is the
down-putting and disdaining of his neighbour. Then whatsoever
light of knowing or feeling of fervour it be that shineth to a
soul with presumption and exalting of itself, and disdain of his
neighbour felt at the same time, it is not the light of grace
given of the Holy Ghost; although the knowledge in itself be true,
but it is either from the fiend, if it come suddenly, or else from
a man's own wit if it come by study, and so it may easily be known
that this feigned light of knowing is not the light of the true
Sun.

Therefore, they that have this knowing on this manner are full of
spiritual pride, and see it not; they are so blind with this
feigned light that they hold the exalting of their own heart and
their disobedience to the laws of holy Church as it were perfect
humility to the Gospel and to the laws of God; and imagine that
the following of their own will to be freedom of spirit. And
thereupon they begin to rain, like black clouds, waters of errors
and heresies; for the words that they utter in preaching tend all
to backbiting, and to strife and discord, reproving of States and
of Persons; and yet they say that all this is charity and zeal of
the truth. But it is not so; for St James the Apostle saith thus:
Ubi zelus est et contentio, &c. -- Where envy is and contention,
there is unstableness and every evil work.196 And therefore that
knowledge that bringeth forth such sins cometh not from the Father
of lights, that is God, but is earthly, beastly and devilish. And
so by these tokens, namely, pride, presumption, disobedience,
indignation, backbiting and other such sins (for these follow
after) may the feigned light be known from the true. For the true
Sun shineth not nor breaketh forth by special visitation to give
light of understanding or perfect charity to a soul, unless the
firmament be first made bright and clear from clouds; that is,
unless the conscience be made clean through the fire of burning
desire to Jesus in this darkness which wasteth and burneth up all
wicked stirrings of pride, vain-glory, wrath, envy and all other
sins in the soul. As the Prophet saith: Ignis ante ipsum procedet,
&c. -- A fire shall go before him; that is, desire of love shall
go before Jesus in man's soul, and it shall burn all his
enemies;197 that is, it shall waste all sins. For except a soul be
first smitten down from the height of itself by fear and humility,
and be well tried and burnt in this fire of desire, and as it were
purified from all spiritual filth, through long time in devout
prayers and other spiritual exercises, it is not able to bear the
shinings of spiritual light nor to receive the precious liquor of
perfect love of Jesus. But when it is purified and made subtle
through this fire, then may it receive the gracious light of
spiritual knowing and the perfection of love, which is the true
Sun.

Thus saith holy Writ: Vobis qui timetis Deum, &c. -- The true Sun
of Righteousness, that is, our Lord Jesus, shall spring to you
that fear Him;198 that is, to humble souls that humble themselves
to their neighbour, through knowing of their own wretchedness, and
cast themselves down under God by annihilating themselves in their
own substance through reverent fear and spiritual beholding of Him
lastingly, for that is perfect humility. Unto these souls the true
Sun shall spring, and enlighten their reason to the knowing of
Truth, and kindle their affections in the fervour of love, and
then shall they both burn and shine, namely, burn in perfect love
through the virtue of this heavenly Sun, and shine in the
knowledge of God and spiritual things, for then be they reformed
in feeling.

Therefore, he that would not be deceived, I think it is good for
him to draw down himself and hide himself in this darkness. First,
from intermeddling with other men, as I have said, and forget all
the world if he can; and follow Jesus with constant desire offered
up in prayers and meditating on Him. And then I believe the light
that cometh after this darkness is secure and true, and that it
shineth out of the city of Jerusalem from the true Sun to a soul
that travelleth in darkness, and crieth after light for to show
her the right way and comfort her in travel. For I believe that
after true darkness going before feigned light never cometh. That
is, if a man truly and fully set himself to forsake the love of
the world, and can through grace come to the feeling and knowing
of himself, and hold himself humbly in that feeling, he shall not
be deceived with any errors nor heresies nor fancies; for all
these come in by the gate of pride. If then pride can be stopped
out, there shall no such sin rest in a soul, and though they come
and proffer themselves, they shall not enter; for grace which the
soul feeleth in this humble darkness shall teach the soul truth,
and show it that all such proffering are from the enemy.

CHAPTER VIII

How great profit it is to the Soul to be brought through Grace
into lightsome Darkness, and how a Man shall dispose himself if he
will come thereto

THERE be many devout souls that through grace come into this
darkness and feel the knowledge of themselves, and yet know they
not fully what it is, and that ignorance is partly a hindrance to
them. They feel well often their thoughts and their affections
drawn out and separated from the minding of earthly things, and
brought into great rest of a delectable softness, without painful
troubling of vain thoughts or of their bodily senses, and they
feel that time so great a freedom of spirit that they can think on
Jesus peaceably and offer up their Psalms and Prayers mightily,
savourly and sweetly to Him, as long as frailty of bodily nature
will suffer them. They understand well that this feeling is good,
but they know not what it is. Therefore unto all such souls I say,
as methinketh, that this manner of feeling, though it be but short
and but seldom, it is really this darkness that I speak of. For it
is a feeling of themselves first, and a rising above themselves
through burning desire to the sight of Jesus; or else, if I shall
say more truly, this gracious feeling is a spiritual sight of
Jesus. And if they can keep themselves in that rest, or bring it
through grace into a custom, so that they can lightly and freely
have it when they list, and hold themselves in it, they shall
never be overcome by temptation of the fiend, nor of the flesh,
nor by errors or heresies; for they are set in the gate of
Contemplation, able and ready to receive the perfect love of
Jesus. Therefore he that hath it, it is good that he know it
humbly, keep it tenderly, and pursue it fervently that no creature
let199 him utterly from it, but that he follow it when he may. And
that he forget and set at nought all things that may put him from
this, if so be, he be at his own liberty, and may do what he will
without scandal or offence to his neighbour. For I think that he
cannot come to this rest lightly, unless he hath great plenty of
grace and set himself to follow the motions of grace, and that
ought he to do; for grace would ever be free, namely from sin and
worldly business, and all other things that let the working of it,
though they are not sins.

Nevertheless, another soul that hath not yet received this plenty
of grace, if he desire to come to this spiritual knowing of Jesus,
he must, as much as in him lieth, enable himself to it, and put
away all lettings that obstruct grace as much as he can. He must
truly learn to die to the world, and truly forsake the love of it.
First, pride, both spiritual and corporal, that he desire no
worship, worldly knowledge, nor worldly craft, profits, nor
riches, nor precious clothing, nor worldly array, nor anything by
which he may be honoured above other men; he shall covet none of
all these. But if they be put upon him take them with fear, so
that he be poor both outwardly and inwardly, or at least fully
inwardly in his heart. And that he covet to be forgotten of the
world, and men regard him no more, though he be never so rich or
so wise, than the poorest man living. Also that he suffereth not
his heart to rest in the beholding of his own deeds, or in his
virtues, imagining that he doth better than another, in that he
forsaketh the world, which others do not, and therefore he setteth
well by himself. Also he must leave all risings of heart, and evil
will of anger and envy against his neighbour. And that he offend
no man, nor anger him indiscreetly by word or deed; nor give any
man occasion whereby he may reasonably be angered, or moved, so
that he may be free from every man. And also that he forsake
covetousness, that he covet right naught of earthly goods, but
only crave his bodily sustenance which he needeth, and hold
himself well apaid, when God stirreth up other men to give it him.
And that he put no manner of trust in the possession of any
worldly goods, nor in the help or favour of any worldly friends,
but principally and fully in God; for if he doth otherwise, he
bindeth himself to the world, so that he cannot be free to think
on Jesus. And also gluttony, and lechery, and all other fleshly
uncleanness must he utterly leave, that his affections be bound to
no woman by fleshly familiarity; for it is no doubt but that such
blind love as is sometime betwixt a man and a woman, and seemeth
good and honest, forasmuch as they would not sin in act, is in the
sight of God full unclean and very great sin. For it is a great
sin for a man to suffer his affections, which should be fastened
to Jesus and to all His virtues, and to all spiritual cleanness,
to be bound by any fleshly love willingly to any creature,
especially if it be so much that it beareth down his thoughts, and
maketh them unrestful that he cannot have favour in God. And this
I hold to be done willingly, when a man doth it, though he confess
it to be a sin, or else when he is so blinded with it that he will
not see it. And also that a man covet not delights of meats and
drinks only for lust of his flesh, but be contented with such as
he can easily have without great trouble; namely, if he be in
health with what meat will put away hunger, and keep his body in
ordinary strength for the service of God. And that he grudge not,
nor strive not, nor vex himself for his meat, though sometime he
be served not as his flesh desires. All these sins and all other
must he forsake utterly in his will, and in deed when he can; and
all other things that hinder him, so that he may dispose himself
to think freely on Jesus. For as long as these lettings and such
other hang upon him, he cannot die to the world, nor come into
this darkness of knowing of himself. And therefore that he may
come thereto, he must do all these things, as St Paul did, saying
thus: This world is slain and crucified to me, and I to the
world.200 That is, he that hath forsaken the love of the world in
honours and riches and in all other worldly things abovesaid, for
the love of God, and loveth it not, nor pursueth it, but is well
satisfied that he hath right nought of it, nor verily would have
though he might, verily to him the world is dead, for he hath no
favour nor delight therein. And if the world set him at nought,
and hath no regard to him, nor favour, nor worship, and set no
price by him, but forgetteth him as a dead man, then is he dead to
the world. And in this plight was St. Paul set perfectly, and so
must every other man in part that would come to the perfect love
of God; for he cannot live to God fully, unless he die first to
the world. This dying to the world is this darkness, and it is the
gate to Contemplation, and to reforming in feeling, and none other
than this. There may be many sundry ways, and several works
letting and leading sundry souls to Contemplation; for according
to divers disposings of men, and after divers states as are
religious and seculars, according as they are in, are there divers
exercises in working. Nevertheless there is but one gate; for
whatsoever exercise a soul useth, unless thereby he come to this
knowing, and to an humble feeling of himself, and that is, that he
be mortified and dead to the world, as to his love of it, and that
he may feel himself sometime in this restful darkness, by the
which he may be hid from the vanities of the world, as to the love
of them, and that he may feel himself what he is indeed, he is not
yet come to the reforming in feeling, nor hath he Contemplation
fully. He is full far from it, and if he will come to it by any
other gate, he is but a thief and a breaker of the wall, and
therefore shall be cast out as unworthy.

But he that can bring himself first to nought by the grace of
humility, and die on this manner, he is in the gate; for he is
dead to the world, and he liveth to God. Of the which St Paul
speaketh thus: Ye are dead.201 That is, ye that for the love of
God forsake all the love of the world, are dead to the world, and
Your life is hid with Christ in God. That is, ye live spiritually
in the love of Jesus. But your life is hid from worldly men, as
Christ liveth, and is hid in His Godhead from the love and the
sight of fleshly lovers.

This gate our Lord Himself showed in the Gospel, when He said
thus: Every man that forsaketh for My love Father or Mother,
Sister or Brother, or any earthly good, he shall have an
hundredfold in this life, and afterward the bliss of Heaven.202
This hundredfold which a soul shall have, if he forsake the world,
is nought but the profit of this lightsome darkness, which I call
the gate of Contemplation. For he that is in this darkness, and is
hid through grace from worldly vanity, he coveteth nothing of
worldly goods, he seeketh it not, he is not hindered therewith, he
looketh not after it, he loveth it not, and therefore hath he an
hundredfold more than the King, or than he that coveteth most of
worldly goods, for he that coveteth nought but Jesus hath an
hundredfold, for he hath more rest, more peace in heart, more true
love and delight in soul in one day, than he that most coveteth of
this world, and hath all the wealth of it in his full possession,
hath all his life-time.

This is, then, a good darkness, and a rich nought, that bringeth a
soul to so much spiritual ease, and so quiet softness. I suppose
David meant of this night, or this nought, when he said thus: Ad
nihilum redactus sum, et nescivi -- I was brought to nought, and I
knew it not.203 That is, the grace of our Lord Jesus sent into my
heart hath slain in me, and brought to nought all the love of the
world, and I knew not how, for not through any working of my own,
nor by my own wit had I it, but by the grace of our Lord Jesus.
And therefore methinketh that he that would have the light of
grace, and sweetly feel the love of Jesus in his soul, he must
forsake all the false light or worldly love, and abide in this
darkness. And, nevertheless, if he be fearful, at first to
continue therein, he must not turn again to the love of the world,
but suffer awhile, and put all his hope and his trust in Jesus,
and he shall not be long without some spiritual light. Thus the
Prophet commandeth: Qui ambulat in tenebris, &c. -- He that
walketh in darkness and hath no light, let him hope in our Lord,
and let him rely upon his God.204 That is, whoso would hide
himself from the love of the world, and cannot readily feel the
light of spiritual love, let him not despair, nor turn again to
the world, but hope in our Lord, and rely upon Him; that is, trust
in God, and cleave to Him by desire, and abide awhile, and he
shall have light. For it falleth out therein as it doth when a man
hath been a great while in the sun, and after that cometh suddenly
into a dark house where no sun shineth, he will be as it were
blind, and see just nought. But if he will abide awhile, he shall
be able presently to see about him; first great things, and then
small things, and afterwards all that is ever in the house. Just
so is it spiritually: he that forsaketh the love of the world, and
cometh to himself into his own conscience, at first it is somewhat
dark and blind to his sight; but if he stand still, and hold out
by serious praying, and often meditating in the same will to the
love of Jesus, he shall be able afterwards to see both great and
small things which he knew not before. This it seemeth the Prophet
promiseth when he saith thus: Orietur in tenebris lux tua, &c. --
In darkness shall thy light spring up, and thy darkness shall be
as noon-day, and thy Lord God shall give thee rest, and shall fill
thy soul with lights.205 That is, thou that truly forsaketh the
light of all worldly love, and hidest thy thought in this
darkness, light of blessed love and spiritual knowing of God shall
spring up to thee, and thy darkness shall be as midday; that is,
thy darkness of painful desire, and thy blind trust in God, that
thou hast at first, shall turn into clear knowledge, and into
security of love, and thy Lord God shall give rest to thee; that
is, thy fleshly desires, and thy painful fears and doubts, and
wicked spirits that have before time vexed thee, all these shall
grow weak, and lose much of their might, and thou shalt be made so
strong that they shall not trouble thee, for thou shalt be hid in
rest from them. And then shall our Lord fulfil thy soul with
shinings; that is, when thou art brought into this spiritual rest,
then shalt thou more easily attend to God, and do nought else but
love Him, and then shall He fill all the powers of thy soul with
beams of spiritual light. Wonder not that I call the forsaking of
worldly love a darkness, for the Prophet calleth it so, saying
thus to a soul: -- Intra in tenebras tuas filia Chalaeorum -- Go
into thy darkness, thou daughter of Chaldee.206 That is, thou soul
that art as a daughter of Chaldee through love of this world,
forsake it, and go into thy darkness.

CHAPTER IX

That the Working of our Lord Jesus in the Reforming of a Soul, is
divided into four times, which are: Calling, Justifying,
Magnifying and Glorifying

LO, I have told thee a little, how, if thou covet to be reformed
in feeling, thou shalt dispose thyself towards thy forthgoing.
Nevertheless I do not say that thou canst do thus of thyself; for
I know well that it is our Lord Jesus that bringeth all this to
the end where He pleaseth. For He only, through His grace,
stirreth up a soul, and bringeth it first into this darkness and
then into light, as the Prophet saith: Sicut tenebrae ejus ita et
lumen ejus.207 That is, just as the light of knowing and the
feeling of spiritual love is from Jesus, just so the darkness,
that is, the forsaking of worldly love, is from Him, for He doth
all. He formeth and reformeth. He formeth only by Himself, but He
reformeth us with us; for grace given, and the applying our will
to grace doth work all this. And in what manner this is done, St
Paul rehearses thus: Quos Deus praescivit, &c. -- Those whom God
foreknew should be made conformable to the Image of His Son, those
He called; and whom He called those He justified; and whom He
justified those He glorified.208 Though these words may be
understood of all chosen souls in the lowest degree of charity,
who are reformed only in faith; nevertheless they may be
understood more especially of those souls that are reformed in
feeling, to whom our Lord God showeth great plenty of grace, and
is much more busy about them; for they are in a special manner His
own children, who bear the full shape and the likeness of His Son
Jesus. In these words St Paul divideth the working of our Lord
into four times.

The first is the time of calling of a soul from worldly vanity,
and that time is often easy and comfortable; for in the beginning
of turning such a man that is disposed to much grace, is so
quickly and so feelingly inspired, and feeleth often so great
sweetness of devotion, and hath so many tears in compunction that
he thinketh sometimes that he is half in Heaven; but this ease
passeth away after for a time. And then cometh the second time,
namely, the time of justifying, which is laborious. For when he
beginneth to go forth mightily in the way of righteousness, and
setteth his will fully against all sin outward and inward, and
stretcheth out his desires to virtues and to the love of Jesus,
then feeleth he much letting both within himself from the
frowardness and hardness of his own will, and from without through
the temptation of his enemy, that he is oft in full great torment,
and that is no wonder: for he hath so long been crooked towards
the false love of the world, that he cannot be made straight, as a
crooked staff cannot be made even, unless it be cast and wrought
by the fire. Therefore our Lord Jesus, knowing what is fit for a
froward soul, suffereth it to be tormented and letted by sundry
temptations, and to be tried soundly by spiritual tribulations
that all the rust of uncleanness may be burnt out of it. And this
shall be done both inwardly with fears and doubts and perplexities
that it shall almost fall into despair, and shall seem as it were
forsaken of God, and wholly left in the hands of the fiend (saving
only a little secret trust that it shall have in the goodness and
mercy of God, for that secret trust our Lord leaveth in such a
soul, though he go never so far from it, by the which the soul is
borne up from despair, and saved from spiritual mischief), and
outwardly also it shall be mortified and pained in the sensuality,
either by divers sicknesses, or by feeble tormentings of the
enemy; or else by a secret working of God the silly soul through
feeling and bearing of the wretched body shall be so pained that
it shall despair almost of suffering or continuing in the body,
unless our Lord Himself keep it therein. And yet, notwithstanding,
the soul had rather be in all this pain than to be blinded with
the false love of the world, for that would be hell to such a
soul; but the suffering of this manner of pain is only Purgatory,
and therefore he suffereth it gladly. And he would not put it away
though he might, because it is so profitable. All this doth our
Lord in great profit to a soul to drive it out of its sensuality,
that it may receive spiritual light; for after this, when a soul
is thus mortified, and brought from worldly love into this
darkness, that it hath no more savour nor delight of worldly
liking than of a straw, but thinketh it bitter as wormwood, then
cometh the third time of Magnifying: and that is, when a soul is
reformed in feeling in part, and receiveth the gift of perfection,
and the grace of Contemplation, and that is a time of great rest;
for then is Jesus more familiar with a soul.

And after this cometh a fourth time of Glorifying; that is, when a
soul shall be fully reformed in the bliss of heaven. For these
souls that are thus called from sin, and thus Justified, or else
on any other manner by divers trials both through fire and water,
and afterwards are thus magnified, they shall be glorified. For
our Lord shall then give them fully what they coveted here; and
more than they could covet; for He shall raise them above all
other chosen souls, to be equal with cherubim and seraphim, seeing
they passed all other in knowing and loving of God here in this
life.

Therefore he that will come to this magnifying must not be afraid
of this justifying, for that is the way; for our Lord saith by His
Prophet a word of great comfort to all such souls that are tried
with the fire of tribulation thus: Puer meus noli timere, &c. --
My child, if thou pass through fire fear not, for the flame shall
not hurt thee.209 It shall cleanse thee from all fleshly filth,
and make thee able to receive spiritual fire of the love of God,
and this must first be done; for as I said before it cannot
otherwise be reformed in feeling.

CHAPTER X

How it falleth out sometimes that Souls that are but beginning or
profiting in Grace seem to have more Love, as to outward tokens
thereof, than some have that be perfect, and yet it is not really
so in their Interior

BUT now thou wilt say, how can this be true? For there be many
souls newly turned to God that have many spiritual feelings; some
have great compunction for their sins, and some have great
devotions and fervours in their prayers, and often have sundry
teachings of spiritual light in understanding, and some men have
other kind of feelings of comfortable heat and great sweetness;
and yet these souls never come fully into this restful darkness,
which I speak of, with fervent desire and lasting love and thought
on God. And hereupon thou askest whether these souls be reformed
in feeling or no. And it seemeth yes, inasmuch as they have such
great spiritual feelings, which other men who stand only in faith
feel not.

Unto this I answer, as methinketh, that these spiritual feelings,
whether they stand in compunction or devotion, or in spiritual
imagination, are not the feelings which a soul shall have and feel
in the grace of Contemplation. I say not but that they are true
and graciously given of God. But these souls that feel such are
not yet reformed in feeling, nor have as yet the gift of
perfection nor the spiritual burning love of Jesus as they may
arrive to. And nevertheless, it often seemeth otherwise that such
souls feel more of the love of God than others that have the gift
of perfection, inasmuch as the feeling showeth more outwardly by
great fervour of bodily tokens in weeping, praying, kneeling and
speaking, and other bodily stirrings, so far forth that it seemeth
to another man that they were even ravished in love. Though I, for
my part, do not think them so, for I will understand that these
kind of feelings and fervours of devotion and compunction that
these men feel are gracious gifts of God sent into chosen souls to
draw them out of worldly love and fleshly lust, which hath long
time been rooted in their hearts, from the which love they would
not be drawn out but by such feeble motions of great fervours.

And the reason why this fervour is so much in outward showing is
not only from the greatness of that love which they have, but from
the littleness and weakness of their soul, that cannot bear a
little touching of God; for it is yet, as it were, fleshly,
fastened to the flesh, and never was yet parted from it by
spiritual mortification; and therefore the least touching of love,
and the least sparkle of spiritual light sent from Heaven into
such a soul is so much and so comfortable and so delectable above
all the likings that ever it felt before in fleshly love of
earthly things, that she is, as it were, overcome with it. And
also it is so new and so sudden and so unaccustomed to her that
she is not able to bear it, but bursteth and breaketh out into
weeping, sobbing and other bodily stirrings. Just as a barrel that
is old, when it receiveth new wine that is fresh and strong, the
barrel swelleth out and is ready to cleave and burst until the
wine hath boiled and purged out all uncleanness; but as soon as
the wine is fined and cleared, then it standeth still and the
barrel whole; just so a soul that is old through sin, when it
receiveth a little of the love of God, which is so fresh and
strong that the body is in point to cleave and to break were it
not that God keepeth it whole. But yet it bursteth out at the eyes
by weeping, and at the mouth by speaking, which is more for
weakness and feebleness of the soul than through greatness of
love. For afterward, when love hath boiled all uncleanness out of
the soul by such great fervours, then is the love clear and
standeth still. And then is both the body and the soul much more
in peace. And yet hath the soul much more love than it had before,
though it show less outwardly; for it is now all whole in rest
within, and but little in outward showing of fervour. And
therefore I say that these souls that feel such great bodily
fervours, though they be in much grace, are not yet reformed in
feeling, but they are greatly disposed towards it. For I trow that
such a man, namely, that hath been greatly defiled in sin, shall
not be reformed in feeling, unless he be first burnt and purified
with such great compunctions going before.

Another soul that never was much defiled with the love of the
world, but hath ever been kept from great sins in innocency, may
lightlier and more privily, without great fervour showed
outwardly, come to this reforming. Then is this true, as I hope,
that such comforts and fervours that a soul feeleth in a state of
its beginning, or of its profiting, are, as it were, his spiritual
food sent from Heaven for to strengthen him in his journey. Even
as a Pilgrim travelleth all day meatless and drinkless, and is
near-at-hand overcome with weariness, falleth at last to a good
inn, and there hath he meat and drink, and is well refreshed for
the time, right so is it spiritually. A devout soul, that will
forsake the love of the world, and would fain love God and setteth
all her business thereto, prayeth and exerciseth all day bodily
and spiritually, and sometimes feeleth no comfort nor savour in
devotion; then our Lord, having pity on all His creatures, that
they should not perish for want, nor fall into heaviness or
grudging, sendeth to it, among other things, His spiritual food,
and comforteth it in devotion as He pleaseth. And when the soul
feeleth any comfort, then doth she hold herself well paid for all
her travail and all the suffering it had on the day, when it
fareth well at night by feeling of any grace.

Also in the same manner falleth it out with other souls that are
profiting and proceeding well forward in grace. These feel
oftentimes gracious touchings of the Holy Ghost in their soul,
both in understanding and sight of spiritual things and in
affection of love. But yet be they not reformed in feeling, nor
are they yet perfect, for why? All such feelings come to them in
that state as it were unawares, for they come to them ere they
think of them, and go from them before they think; and they cannot
come by such things again, nor wot they where they may find them;
for they have not as yet any familiarity with them, of thought and
lasting desire in Jesus. Nor is the eye of their soul opened to
the beholding of spiritual things, but they draw well toward it;
and therefore they are not yet reformed in feeling nor have yet
the full gift of Contemplation.

CHAPTER XI

After what manner a Man shall come to know his own Soul, and how a
Man should set his Love in Jesus, God and Man in one Person

A SOUL that would know spiritual things needs first to have the
knowledge of itself; for she cannot have the knowledge of a thing
that is above herself, unless she have first the knowledge of
herself. And that is when the soul is so gathered into herself,
and separated from beholding of all earthly things and from the
use of her bodily senses, that she feeleth herself as she is in
her own kind, which is without a body. Then, if thou covet for to
know and see thy soul what it is, thou shalt not turn thy thought
with imagination into thy body, to seek it and feel it as it were
hid within thy heart, as thy heart is hid and holden within thy
body. If thou seek in that manner, thou shalt never find it in
itself. The more thou seekest for to find and feel it as thou
wouldst feel a bodily thing, the farther thou art from it. For thy
soul is no bodily thing, but a life invisible, not hid and holden
within thy body, as a less thing is hidden and holden within a
greater; but it holdeth and quickeneth thy body, and is much
greater in might and virtue than is thy body. If then thou wilt
find it, withdraw thy thoughts from all bodily things outward, and
from minding of thy own body, also from all thy five senses, as
much as thou canst, and think on the nature of a reasonable soul
spiritually, as thou wouldst think for to know any virtue, as
justice, humility or any other. Right so think that a soul is a
life immortal, invisible, and hath in itself a power to know the
sovereign verity, and for to love the sovereign goodness, which is
God; when thou seest this, then feelest thou somewhat of thyself.
Seek thyself in none other place, but the more fully, the more
clearly that thou thinkest of the nature and the worthiness of a
reasonable soul, what it is and what is the kindly working of it,
the better seest thou thyself.

It is full hard for a soul that is rude and much in the flesh for
to have sight and knowledge of itself or of an angel or of God. It
falleth presently to the imagining of a bodily shape, and it
weeneth thereby to have the sight of itself, and in like manner of
God, and of spiritual things. And that may not be, for all
spiritual things are seen and known by the understanding of the
soul, not by the imagination. Right as a soul seeth by her
understanding, that the virtue of righteousness is to give to
everything that which he ought to have; right so, and on such a
manner may the soul see itself by the understanding.

Nevertheless, I say not that thy soul should rest still in this
knowing, but it shall by this seek a higher knowledge above
itself, and that is the nature of God, for the soul is but a
glass,210 in the which thou shouldst see God spiritually. And
therefore thou shalt first find thy glass and keep it bright and
clean from fleshly filth and worldly vanity, and hold it well up
from the earth, that thou mayest see it and our Lord therein also.
For to this end do all chosen souls travail in this life, in their
meaning and in their intent, though they have not the special
feeling of this. And therefore it is said before that many souls
beginning and profiting have many great fervours, and much sweet
devotion, and as it seemeth are all burning in love, and yet have
they not love perfectly nor spiritual knowledge of God. For be
thou well assured that though a soul feel never so much fervour,
even so much that he thinketh his body cannot bear it; or though
he melt all into weeping, as long as his thinking and his
beholding of God is for the most part or all in imagination and
not in the understanding, he is not yet come to perfect love nor
to Contemplation.

For thou shalt understand that the love of God is in three manner
of ways; all of which are good, but each one is better than the
other. The first cometh only through Faith, without gracious
imagination or spiritual knowing of God. This love is in the least
soul that is reformed in Faith, in the lowest degree of charity;
and it is good, for it sufficeth to salvation. The second is that
which a soul feeleth through faith and imagination of Jesus in His
Manhood. This love is better than the first, when the imagination
is stirred by grace, for then the spiritual eye is opened in
beholding of our Lord's humanity. The third love that a soul
feeleth through spiritual sight of the Godhead in the humanity, as
it may be seen here, is the best and most worthy, and that is
perfect love. This love a soul feeleth not, until it be reformed
in feeling. Souls beginning and profiting have not this love, for
they cannot think on Jesus nor love Him spiritually, but, as it
were, all manly and fleshly after the conditions and likeness of a
man; and accordingly they frame all their working in their
thoughts and in their affections. They fear Him as a man, and
worship Him and love Him principally by the imagination of His
humanity, and go no further.

As thus: If they have done amiss and trespassed against God, they
think then that God is angry with them, as a man would be if they
had trespassed against him; and therefore they fall down, as it
were, at the feet of our Lord with sorrow of heart, and cry Him
mercy. And when they have done thus, they have a good trust that
our Lord of His mercy will forgive them their trespass. This
manner of doing is right good, but it is not spiritual as it might
be. Also when they would worship God, they present themselves in
their thoughts, as if they were before our Lord's face in a bodily
likeness, and imagine a wonderful light there where our Lord Jesus
is, and then they reverence Him, and worship Him, and fear Him,
and fully put them into His mercy for to do with them what He
will. Also when they would love God, they behold Him, worship Him,
and dread Him as a man (not yet as God in the humanity), either in
His Passion, or in some other thing in His humanity, and in that
beholding they feel their hearts much stirred to the love of God.

This manner of working is good and gracious, but it is much less
and lower than is the working of the understanding; that is, when
the soul graciously beholdeth God in man, for in our Lord Jesus
are two natures, the Humanity and the Divinity. And as the
Divinity is more sovereign and more worthy than the Humanity,
right so the spiritual beholding of the Divinity in Jesus Man is
more worthy, and more spiritual, and more meritorious than the
beholding of the Humanity alone, whether he behold the Humanity as
mortal or as glorified. And right so by the same reason the love
which a soul feeleth in thinking and beholding of the Divinity in
the Manhood, when it is graciously showed, is more worthy, more
spiritual, and more meritorious than the fervour of devotion, that
the soul feeleth by the imagination only of the humanity, show it
never so much outwardly; for in regard of that of the Divinity,
this of the Humanity is but a human thing. For our Lord showeth
not Himself in the imagination as He is, nor that He is, for the
soul cannot at that time for frailty of the flesh suffer it so.

Nevertheless unto such souls that cannot meditate on the Divinity
spiritually, that they may not err in their devotion, but that
they should be comforted and strengthened by some manner of inward
beholding of Jesus to forsake sin and the love of the world,
wherefore our Lord Jesus tempereth this invisible light of His
Godhead, and clotheth it under bodily likeness of His Manhood, and
showeth it unto the inner eye of the soul, and feedeth it with the
love of His precious flesh spiritually. The which love is of so
great might, that it slayeth all wicked love in the soul, and
strengthens it for to suffer bodily penance and other bodily
difficulties in the time of need for the love of Jesus. And this
is the shadowing of our Lord Jesus over a chosen soul, in which
shadowing the soul is kept from the burning of worldly love; for
as a shadow is made of a light and of a body, even so this
spiritual shadow is made of the blessed invisible light of the
Godhead, and of the Manhood united thereto, showed to a devout
soul. Of the which shadow the Prophet saith thus: Spiritus ante
faciem nostram, &c. -- Our Lord Christ before our face as a
Spirit, under His shadow we shall live among folks.211 That is,
our Lord Jesus in His Godhead is a spirit, that cannot be seen of
us living in the flesh as He is in His blessed light, therefore we
shall live under the shadow of His Manhood as long as we are here.

But though that this be true that this love in imagination is
good; nevertheless a soul should desire to have spiritual love in
understanding of the Godhead; for that is the end and the full
bliss of the soul, and all bodily beholdings are but means leading
a soul to it. I say not that we should refuse the Manhood of
Jesus, and separate God from man; but thou shalt in Jesus Man,
behold, fear, admire and love spiritually the Godhead, and so
shalt thou, without separating them, love God in man, and both God
and man spiritually and fleshly. Thus our Lord taught Mary
Magdalen to do like a Contemplative, when He said thus: Noli me
tangere, &c. -- Touch me not: I am not yet ascended to My Father.
The meaning is this: Mary Magdalen loved our Lord Jesus well
before the time of His Passion, but her love was much bodily and
little spiritual. She understood well that He was God, but she
loved Him but little as God; for she could not then, and therefore
she suffered all her affection and all her thoughts to fall on Him
as He was in form of man. And our Lord blamed her not then, but
praised it much. But after when He was risen from death, and
appeared to her, she would have worshipped Him with the same
manner of love as she did before, and then our Lord forbade her,
and said thus: Touch Me not. That is, set not thy rest nor the
love of thy heart on that form of man which thou seest with thy
fleshly eye, for to rest therein only, for in that form I am not
ascended up to My Father; that is, I am not equal to the Father,
that is, the form of the Godhead; and love Me, know Me and worship
Me as God and Man, godly, not as a man, manly, so shalt thou touch
Me. For since I am both God and Man, and all the reason why I am
to be beloved and worshipped is, for that I am God, and for that I
took the nature of man; and therefore make Me a God in thy heart
and in thy love, and worship Me in thine understanding as Jesus,
God and Man, the sovereign verity and the sovereign goodness, and
blessed life; for I am so. And thus our Lord taught her, as I
understand, and also all other souls that are disposed to
Contemplation, and enabled thereto that they should do so.
Nevertheless other souls are not so skilful,212 nor are yet made
spiritual through grace, it is good for them that they keep on
their own working in imagination, with affections towards our
Saviour's Humanity, until more grace come freely to them. It is
not safe for a man to leave any good thing utterly, until he see
and feel a better.

In like manner may it be said of other kind of feelings that are
like to bodily, as hearing of delectable songs, or feeling of
comfortable heat in the body, seeing of light, or sweetness of
bodily savour. These are not spiritual feelings; for spiritual
feelings are felt in the powers of the soul, principally in the
understanding, and in love, and little in the imagination. But
these feelings are felt in the powers of the body in the
imagination, and therefore are not spiritual feelings. But when
they are even at best, and most true, yet are they but outward
tokens of the inward grace which is felt in the powers of the
soul. This may be plainly proved out of Holy Writ, saying thus:
Apparuerunt Apostolis, &c. -- The Holy Ghost appeared to the
Apostles on the day of Pentecost in the likeness of burning
tongues, and inflamed their hearts, and sat upon each of them.213
Now it is true that the Holy Ghost, which is God in Himself
invisible, was not that fire nor those tongues that were seen, nor
that burning which was felt bodily, but He was invisibly felt in
the powers of their souls, for He enlightened their reason and
enkindled their affections through His blessed presence so clearly
and so burningly, that they had suddenly the spiritual knowledge
of truth, and the perfection of love, as our Lord promised them,
saying thus: Spiritus Sanctus docebit vos, &c. -- The Holy Spirit
shall teach you all truth. That fire and that burning then was
nought else but a bodily token showed outwardly in witnessing of
that grace which was felt inwardly. And as it was in them, so is
it in other souls that are visited and lightened within of the
Holy Ghost, and have withal such outward feelings for comforting
them and witnessing of their inward grace. But yet I do not think
that such grace is in all souls that are perfect, but only where
our Lord pleaseth.

Other imperfect souls that have such feelings outwardly, and have
not yet received inward grace, it is not good for them to rest in
such outward feelings, but only inasmuch as they help the soul to
more love, and to more stableness of thought in God; for some may
be true and some may be feigned, as I have said before.

PART III -- CHAPTER I

In what Sense this Manner of Speaking of Reforming of a Soul in
Feeling is to be understood; and in what Manner it is reformed,
and how it is found in St Paul's Writings

I HAVE heretofore told thee somewhat of reforming in Faith, and
also I have touched concerning thy proceeding from that reforming
to a higher reforming which is in feeling. Not that I would by
these discourses limit God's working by the law of my speaking, as
to say that God worketh thus in a soul and no other wise. No, I
mean not so, but I speak after my simple feeling that our Lord
worketh thus in some creatures as I conceive. And I hope well,
also, that He worketh otherwise, which passeth my wit and my
feeling. Nevertheless, whether He worketh thus or otherwise by
several ways, in longer time or shorter, with much travail or
little, if all come to one end, that is, the perfect love of Him,
then is it good enough. For if He will give one soul on one day
the full grace of Contemplation, and without any travail, as He
well may; as good is that to that soul as if he had been tried,
pained,214 mortified and purified twenty years. And therefore in
this manner take my sayings as I have said, and namely as I meant
to say them. For now by the grace of our Lord Jesus shall I speak
a little as methinketh more plainly of reforming in feeling, what
it is, and how it is made, and what are spiritual feelings which a
soul receiveth. Yet in the first place, that I may not be
understood to make this manner of speaking of reforming of a soul
in feeling as a fiction or fancy of my own, I shall ground it on
St Paul's words, where he saith thus: Nolite conformari huic
saeculo, &c. That is, ye that are through grace reformed in Faith,
conform not yourselves henceforward to the manner of the world, in
pride, in covetousness and in other sins, but be ye reformed in
newness of feeling.215 Lo, here thou mayest see that St Paul
speaketh of reforming in feeling; and what that newness of feeling
is he expoundeth in another place thus: Ut impleamini in
agnitione, &c. That is: We pray God that ye may be fulfilled in
knowing of God's will in all understanding and in all manner of
spiritual wisdom.216 This is reforming in feeling; for thou must
understand that the soul hath two manners of feelings, one without
by the five bodily senses; another within of the spiritual senses,
which are properly the faculties of the soul -- memory,
understanding and will. When these faculties are through grace
fulfilled in all understanding of the will of God and spiritual
wisdom, then hath the soul new gracious feelings. That this is so
he showeth in another place, thus: Renovamini spiritu mentis
vestri, &c. -- Be ye renewed in the spirit of your soul.217 That
is, ye shall be reformed, not in bodily feeling nor in
imagination, but in the upper part of your reason. And be clothed
with the new man, that is shapen after God in righteousness,
holiness and truth. That is, your reason, which is properly the
image of God, through grace of the Holy Ghost, shall be clothed in
a new light of truth, holiness and righteousness, and then is it
reformed in feeling. For when the soul hath perfect knowledge of
God, then is it reformed. Thus saith St Paul: Expoliantes veterem
hominem, &c. -- Spoil yourself of the old man with all his
deeds.218 That is, cast from you the love of the world with all
worldly manners, and clothe you with the new man. That is, you
shall be renewed in the knowing of God, after the likeness of Him
that made you.

By these words thou mayest understand that St Paul would have
men's souls reformed in perfect knowledge of God, for that is the
new feeling which he speaketh of generally. And therefore upon his
words I shall speak more plainly of this reforming as God shall
give me grace. For there be two manners of knowing of God.

One is had principally in imagination, and little in
understanding. This knowing is in chosen souls beginning and
profiting in grace, who know God, and love Him humanly (not
spiritually) with human affections, and with a corporal image of
His Humanity, as I have spoken before.

This knowing is good, and is likened to milk, by which they are
tenderly nourished as children until they be able to come to the
Father's table, and take from His hand substantial bread.

Another knowing is principally felt in the understanding, and
little in imagination; for the understanding is the lady, and the
imagination is the maid, serving the understanding when need is.
This knowing is solid bread meet for perfect souls, and is
reforming in feeling.

CHAPTER II

How God openeth the inward Eye of the Soul to see Him, not all at
once, but by divers times, and of three Manners of reforming of a
Soul explained by a familiar Example

A SOUL that is called from the love of the world, and after that
is righted, tried and mortified and purified, as I have said
before, our Lord Jesus of His merciful goodness reformeth it in
feeling when He pleaseth. He openeth the inner eye of the soul,
when He enlighteneth her reason through the touching and shining
of His blessed light for to see Him and know Him, not all fully at
once, but by little and little, by divers times, as the soul is
able to bear it. He seeth Him not what He is, for that can no
creature do in Heaven nor in earth. Nor seeth he Him as He is, for
that sight is only in the bliss of Heaven. But he seeth Him that
He is an unchangeable being, a supreme power, a sovereign truth,
supreme goodness, a blessed life, an endless bliss. This seeth a
soul, and much more that cometh withal not blindly and nakedly and
unsavourly, as doth a learned man, that knoweth and seeth Him only
by his learning, through might of his naked reason; but he seeth
Him in understanding, that is, comforted and lighted by the gift
of the Holy Ghost, with a wonderful reverence, and a secret
burning love, and with a spiritual savour and heavenly delight,
more clearly and more fully than can be written or spoken.

This sight, though it be but short and little, is so worthy and so
mighty that it draweth and ravisheth all the affections of the
soul from be holding and minding of all earthly things to itself,
for to rest therein evermore if it could. And upon this kind of
sight and knowing the soul groundeth all its working inward in all
the affections; for then she worshippeth God in the humanity, as
verity; wondereth at Him, as power and might; loveth Him, as
goodness. This sight and this goodness, and this knowing of Jesus,
with the blessed love that cometh out of it, may be called
reforming of a soul in feeling and in faith, which I have spoken
of. It is in faith, for it is dark yet in comparison of that full
knowing of Jesus, with the blessed love that cometh out of it,
that shall be in Heaven. For then shall we see Him, not only that
He is, but as He is, as St John saith: Tunc videbimus eum sicut
est -- Then shall we see Him as He is.219 Nevertheless it is in
feeling also, as in regard of that blind knowing that a soul hath
standing only in faith, for this soul knoweth somewhat of the very
nature of Jesus as God through this gracious sight, which that
other in faith knoweth not, but only believeth it to be truth.

Nevertheless, that thou mayest the better conceive what I mean, I
shall show these three manners of reforming of a soul by example
of three men standing in the light of the sun. Of the which one is
blind, another can see, but hath his eyes stopped, the third
looketh forth with full sight. The blind man hath no manner of
knowledge that he is in the sun, but he believeth it if an honest
man tell him so; and he betokeneth a soul that is only reformed in
Faith, that believeth in God as holy Church teacheth, and
understandeth not what. This sufficeth as to salvation. That other
man seeth a light of the sun, but he seeth it not clearly what it
is, for his eyelid letteth him that he cannot see; but he seeth
through the lids of his eyes a glimmering of great light. And this
man betokeneth a soul that is reformed in Faith and in feeling,
and so he is Contemplative, for he seeth somewhat of the Godhead
of Jesus through grace, not clearly nor fully; for the lid, that
is, his bodily nature, is yet a wall betwixt his nature and the
nature of Jesus God, and letteth him from the clear sight. But he
seeth through this wall, after that grace toucheth him more or
less, that Jesus is God, and that Jesus is sovereign goodness, and
sovereign being, and a blessed life, and that all other goodness
cometh from Him. Thus seeth the soul by grace, notwithstanding its
bodily nature, and the more clean and subtle that the soul is
made, and the more it is separated from sensuality, the sharper
sight it hath and the greater love of the Divinity of Jesus. This
sight is so mighty that though no other man living should believe
in Jesus, nor love Him, yet would he never believe the less, nor
love Him the less, for he seeth it so certainly that he cannot but
believe it.

The third man that hath full sight of the sun, he believeth it
not, for he seeth it fully. And he betokeneth a full blessed soul,
that without any wall of his body or of sin, seeth openly the face
of Jesus in the bliss of Heaven. There is no faith, and therefore
he is fully reformed in feeling. There is no state above the
second reforming that a soul can come to here in this life, for
this is the state of perfection and the way to heavenward.
Nevertheless, all the souls that are in this state are not all
alike in degrees; for some have it little, short and seldom; and
some longer, clearer and oftener; and some have it best of all,
clearest and longest, according to the abounding of grace, and yet
all these have the gift of Contemplation. For the soul hath not
perfect sight of Jesus all at once, but at first a little and a
little, and after that it profiteth and cometh to more feeling;
and as long as it is in this life it groweth more in knowing, and
in this love of Jesus. And verily I know not what can be more
desirable to such a soul that hath felt a little of it, than
utterly to leave it and set at nought all other things, for to
hold only thereto, to have a clearer sight and clearer love of
Jesus, in whom is all the Blessed Trinity.

This manner of knowing of Jesus, as I understand, is the opening
of Heaven to the eye of a clean soul, of which holy men speak in
their writings. Not as some imagine, that the opening of Heaven is
as if a soul could see by imagination through the skies above the
Firmament, how our Lord Jesus sitteth in His Majesty, in a bodily
light, as much as an hundred suns. No, it is not so; no, though he
see never so high on this manner, verily he seeth not the
spiritual Heaven. The higher he soareth up above the sun for to
see Jesus God, thus by such imagination the lower he falleth
beneath the sun. Nevertheless, this kind of sight is tolerable in
simple souls that can seek no better for Him that is invisible.

CHAPTER III

How Jesus is Heaven to the Soul, and why He is called Fire

WHAT then is Heaven to a reasonable soul? Verily nought else but
Jesus God. For if that be Heaven only that is above all things,
then is God only Heaven to man's soul, for He alone is above the
nature of a soul. Then if a soul can through grace have knowledge
of that blessed nature of Jesus, verily he seeth Heaven, for he
seeth God. Therefore there be many men that err in understanding
of some words that are spoken of God, for that they understand
them not spiritually.

Holy Writ saith, that a soul that will find God must lift her
inward eye upward, and seek God above itself. Then some men that
would do after this saying, understand this word above themselves
to signify the placing or setting of a thing in place and
worthiness above another, as one element or planet is above
another in situation and worthiness of a bodily place. But it is
not so taken spiritually; for a soul is above each bodily thing,
not in place, or sight, but in purity and worthiness of nature.
Right so in the same manner God is above all bodily and spiritual
creatures, not in place and sight, but in purity and worthiness of
His unchangeable blessed nature.

And therefore he that will wisely seek God, and find Him, he must
not run out with his thoughts as if he would climb above the sun,
and part the firmament, and imagine the Majesty like to a hundred
suns. But he must rather draw down the sun, and all the firmament,
and forget it, and cast it beneath him where he is, and set all
this and all bodily things also at nought; and then, if he can,
think spiritually both of himself and of God also. And if he do
thus, then seeth the soul above itself, then seeth it into Heaven.

Upon this same manner shall this word within be understood. It is
commonly said that a soul should see our Lord within all things
and within itself. True it is, that our Lord is within all
creatures, but not on that manner that a kernel is hid within the
shell of a nut; or as a little bodily thing is contained within a
greater. But He is within all creatures, as holding and preserving
them in their being, through the subtlety and power of His own
blessed nature, and purity invisible. For even as a thing that is
most precious and most clean is laid innermost, right so by the
same likeness it is said that the nature of God, which is most
precious, most clean, most goodly, most remote from bodily
substance, is hid within all things. And therefore he that will
seek God within, he must first forget all bodily things, for all
such things are without; and also his own body; and he must forget
thinking of his own soul, and think on the uncreated nature; that
is, Jesus, who made him, quickeneth him, holdeth him, and giveth
him reason, memory and love, the which is within him through His
power and sovereign subtlety.

Upon this manner must the soul do, when grace toucheth it, or else
it will but little avail to seek Jesus, and to find Him within
itself, and within all creatures as methinketh.

Also it is said in Holy Writ, that God is light. So sayeth St
John: God is light.220 This light we must not take for a bodily
light; but it must be understood thus: God is light; that is, God
is truth and verity itself, for verity is spiritual light. He then
that most graciously knoweth verity, best seeth God. And
nevertheless it is likened to corporal light, for this reason:
Right as the sun showeth to the bodily eye both itself and all
bodily things thereby; even so verity, that is, God, showeth to
the reason of the soul itself first, and by itself all other
spiritual things that are needful to the knowing of a soul. Thus
saith the Prophet: Domine in lumine tuo videbimus lumen. -- Lord,
we shall see Thy light by Thy light.221 That is, we shall see
Thee, who art verity, by Thyself.

In like manner, it is said that God is fire. Our God is wasting
fire.222 That is to say, God is not elementary fire, that heateth
and burneth a body, but God is love and charity. For as fire
wasteth all bodily things, that can be wasted, even so the love of
God burneth and wasteth all sin out of the soul and maketh it
clean, as fire cleanseth all manner of metals. These words and all
other that are spoken of our Lord in Holy Writ by bodily
similitude, must needs be understood spiritually, else there is no
savour in them. And the reason why such words are said of our Lord
in Holy Writ is this, for that we are so carnal, that we cannot
speak of God nor understand anything of Him, unless we be first
entered by such words. But when the inner eye is open through
grace to have a little sight of Jesus, then will the soul easily
enough turn all such words of bodily things into spiritual
understanding. This spiritual opening of the inner eye into
knowing of the Divinity, I call reforming in faith and feeling.
For then the soul feeleth somewhat in understanding of that thing
that it had before, in naked believing, and that is the beginning
of Contemplation. Of the which St Paul saith thus: Non
Contemplantibus nobis quae videntur, &c. -- Our Contemplation is
not on things that are seen, but on things unseen. For things that
are seen are passing, but things unseen are everlasting. 223 To
which sight every soul should desire to come. both here in part,
and in the bliss of Heaven fully. For in that sight, and in that
knowing of Jesus fully, consisteth the bliss of a reasonable soul
and endless life. Thus saith our Lord: Haec est aautem vita
aeterna, &c.224 -- This is eternal life, that they know Thee the
true God, and Thy Son whom Thou hast sent.

CHAPTER IV

Of two manner of Loves, created and uncreated, and how we are
bound to love Jesus much for our Creation; but more for our
Redemption; and most of all for our Salvation, through the gifts
of His Love

BUT now perhaps thou wonderest why, since this knowing of God is
the bliss and end of a Soul, why I have said heretofore that a
soul should covet nought else but only the love of God, and speak
nothing of this sight that a soul should covet it.

Unto this I may answer, that the sight of Jesus is the full bliss
of a soul; but not only for the sight, but also for the blessed
love that cometh out of that sight. And because that love cometh
out of knowing, and not knowing out of love; therefore it is said,
that in knowing, and in sight principally of God with love is the
bliss of a soul; and the more He is known, the better He is loved.
But forasmuch as a soul cannot arrive to this knowing, and the
love that cometh out of it, without love, therefore I say that
thou must covet love; for love is a cause why a soul cometh to
this knowing, and to the love that cometh out of it. And in what
manner that is, I shall tell thee more plainly.

Holy writers say, and true it is, that there be two sorts of
spiritual love: One is called Created, and the other Uncreated.
Love uncreated is God Himself, the Third Person in the Trinity,
that is the Holy Ghost. He is love uncreated, and unmade; as St
John saith: God is love.225 That is, the Holy Ghost. Love created
is the affection of the soul produced by the Holy Ghost out of the
sight and the knowing of Verity; that is, God stirred up, and set
upon him. This love is called created, for it is made by the Holy
Ghost. This love is not God in Himself, for it is made: but it is
the love of the soul felt by the sight of Jesus, and stirred up
towards Him only. Now may you see that created love is not the
cause why a soul cometh to the spiritual sight of Jesus. And some
men think that they could love God so fervently, as it were by
their own strength, that they might be worthy to have the
spiritual knowing of Him. No, it is not so; but love uncreated,
that is, God Himself, is cause of all this knowing. For a blind
wretched soul is so far from the clear knowing, and the blessed
feeling of His love, through sin and frailty of its corporal
nature, that it could never come to it, if it were not for the
endless greatness of the love of God. But because He loveth us so
much, therefore giveth He us His love, that is the Holy Ghost. He
is both the giver and the gift, and maketh us then by that gift
for to know and love Him.

Lo, this is the love that I spake of, that thou shouldst only
covet and desire this uncreated love, that is, the Holy Ghost; for
verily a less thing or a less gift than He is cannot avail us, to
bring us to the blessed sight of Jesus. And therefore ought we
fully to desire and ask of Jesus only this gift of love, that He
would for the greatness of His so blessed love touch our hearts
with His invisible light to the knowledge of Himself, and make us
partakers of His love; that as He loveth us, so we might love Him
again. Thus saith St John: Nos diligamus Deum, &c. -- Let us love
God now, for He loved us first.226 He loved us much when He made
us after His likeness; but He loved us more when He bought us with
His precious Blood, by voluntary undertaking of death in His
Humanity from the power of the enemy and the pains of Hell; but He
loveth us most when He giveth us the gift of the Holy Ghost, that
is, love, by the which we know Him and love Him, and are made
secure that we are His sons chosen to salvation. For this love are
we more bound to Him than for any other love that ever He showed
to us, either in our making or redeeming. For though He had made
us and bought us, if He did not save us withal, what would our
making or redeeming profit us? Verily right nought.

Therefore the greatest token of love showed to us, as methinketh,
is this: That He giveth Himself in His Godhead to our souls. He
gave Himself, first, in His manhood to us for our ransom, when He
offered Himself to the Father of Heaven upon the altar of the
Cross.

This was a right fair gift, and a right great token of love. But
when He giveth Himself in His Godhead spiritually to our souls for
our salvation, and maketh us to know Him and to love Him, then
loveth He us fully; for then giveth He Himself to us, and more
cannot He give us, nor could less suffice us. And for this cause
it is said that the justifying of a sinful soul through
forgiveness of sins is attributed227 and appropriated principally
to the working of the Holy Ghost; for the Holy Ghost is love. And
in the justifying of a sinner, our Lord Jesus showeth to a soul
most of His love, for He putteth away all sin, and uniteth it to
Him and that is the best thing that He can do to a soul; and
therefore it is attributed to the Holy Ghost. The making of the
soul is attributed to the Father, as to the sovereign might and
power that He showeth in making of it. The redeeming of it is
attributed to the Son, as to the sovereign skill and wisdom that
He showed in His Manhood; for He overcame the enemy principally
through wisdom, and not through strength. But the justifying and
full saving of a soul through forgiveness of sins is appropriated
to the Third Person, that is, the Holy Ghost, for therein showeth
Jesus most love unto man's soul, and for that thing should He be
most loved of us again. His making is common to us and all
unreasonable creatures; for as He made us of nought, so made He
them, and therefore this is a work of greatest might, but not of
greatest love. Also the Redemption is common to us and all
reasonable souls, as to Jews and Saracens, and to false Christian
men; for He died for all souls alike, and bought them if they
would have the perfect love of it. And also it is sufficient for
the restoring of all, though it be so that all have it not. And
this work had most of wisdom, not most of love. But the justifying
and sanctifying of our souls through the gift of the Holy Ghost,
that is only the work of love, and is not common, but a special
gift only to chosen souls. And verily that is most the working of
love to us that are His chosen children.

Love doth all.

This is the love of God that I spake of, which thou shouldst covet
and desire; for this love is God Himself and the Holy Ghost. This
love uncreated, when it is given to us, it worketh in our souls
all that good is, and all that belongeth to goodness. This love
loveth us before we love Him, for it cleanseth us first from our
sins, it maketh us to love Him, and maketh our wills strong to
withstand all sins, and stirreth us up to exercise ourselves
through divers exercises both bodily and ghostly in all virtues.
It stirreth us up also to forsake sin and carnal affections and
worldly fears. It keepeth us from malicious temptations of the
enemy, and driveth us out from business and vanities of the world,
and from the conversation of worldly lovers. All this doth the
uncreated love of God, when He giveth Himself to us; we do right
nought but suffer Him and assent to Him; for that is the most that
we do to assent willingly to His gracious working in us. And yet
is not that will from and of ourselves but of His making, so that
methinketh He doth in us all that is well done, and yet we see it
not.

And He not only doth all thus, but afterwards this love doth more;
for He openeth the eye of the soul, and showeth to the soul the
sight of Jesus wonderfully, and the knowledge of Him as well as
the soul can suffer it by little and little; and by that sight He
ravisheth all the affections of the soul to Him, and then
beginneth the soul to know Him spiritually and to love Him
burningly. Then seeth the soul somewhat of the nature of the
blessed Divinity of Jesus, how that He is all, and that He worketh
all, and that all good deeds that are done and good thoughts are
only of Him; for He is all-sovereign might and all-sovereign
verity and all-sovereign goodness. And therefore every good deed
is done of Him and by Him. And He alone shall have the worship and
the thanks for all good deeds, and nothing else but He; for though
wretched men steal His worship here for a while, yet at the last
end shall verity show full well that Jesus did all, and man did
right nought of himself. And then shall the thieves of God's goods
that are not reconciled to Him here in this life be judged to
death for their sins. And Jesus shall be fully worshipped and
thanked of all blessed creatures for His working. This love is
nothing else but Jesus Himself, that for love worketh all this in
man's soul and reformeth it in feeling to His likeness, as I have
said before, and somewhat more shall say. This love bringeth into
the soul the perfection of all virtues, and maketh it all clean
and true, soft and easy, and turneth it all into love and into
liking. And in what manner He doth that I shall tell thee a little
hereafter. This love draweth the soul from vain beholding of
worldly things into Contemplation of spiritual creatures and of
the secrets of God, from sensuality into spirituality, from
earthly feeling into heavenly savour.

CHAPTER V

How that some Souls love Jesus by bodily Fervours, and by their
own human Affections that are moved by Grace and by Reason. And
how some love Him more quietly228 by spiritual Affections only
moved inwardly through spiritual Grace of the Holy Ghost

THEREFORE I may truly say, that he that hath most of this love
here in this life, most pleaseth God, and shall have most clear
sight of Him, and most fully love Him in the bliss of Heaven, for
that he hath the greatest gift of love here in earth. This love
cannot be had by a man's own travail, as some imagine. It is
freely had by the gracious gift of Jesus after much bodily and
spiritual pains going before. For there are some lovers of God
that make themselves to love God as it were by their own might;
for they strain themselves through great violence, and pant so
strongly, that they burst into bodily fervours, as if they would
draw God down from Heaven to them. And they say in their hearts
and with their mouth: Ah, Lord! I love Thee, and I will love Thee,
and I will suffer death for the love of Thee. And in this manner
of working they feel great fervour and much grace. And true it is,
I think, this working good and meritorious,229 if it be well
tempered with humility and discretion. But yet these men love not,
nor have the gift of love on that manner that I speak of, neither
do they ask it so. For a soul that hath the gift of love through
gracious beholding of Jesus, as I mean, or that soul that hath it
not yet, but would have it, she is not busy to strain herself
above her strength, as it were by bodily might, for to have it by
bodily fervours, and so far to feel the love of God, but thinketh
herself to be right nought, and that she can do right nought of
herself; but as it were a dead thing, only depending and borne up
by the mercy of God. She seeth well that Jesus is all, and doth
all, and, therefore, asketh she nought else but the gift of love;
for since the soul seeth that her own love is nought, therefore
she desireth His love, for that is enough. Therefore she prayeth
and desireth that the love of God should touch her with His
blessed light, that she may see a little of Him by His gracious
presence, for then should she love Him; and so by this way cometh
the gift of love, which is God, into a soul. The more that a soul
noughteth itself through grace by sight of this verity, sometime
without any fervour showed outwardly, and the less that it
thinketh that it loveth or seeth God, the nearer it approacheth230
for to perceive the gift of this blessed love; for then is love
master, and worketh in the soul, and maketh it forget itself, and
for to see and look on only how love worketh; and then is the soul
more suffering than doing, and that is pure love. Thus St Paul
meant when he said thus: Quicumque spiritu Dei aguntur, &c. --
They that are wrought by the spirit of God are God's sons.231 That
is, souls that are made so humble, and so pliable232 to God, that
they work not of themselves, but suffer the Holy Ghost to stir and
work in them the feelings of love with a sweet chord to His
stirrings. These are in a special manner God's sons most like unto
Him.

Other souls that cannot love thus, but travail themselves by their
own afflictions, and stir themselves through their own thinking of
God and bodily exercise, for to draw out of themselves, by
mastery, the feeling of love, by fervours and other bodily signs,
these love not spiritually. They do well and meritoriously, if so
be they understand humbly that this their working is not the
kindly gracious feeling of love, but is a human acting of the soul
at the bidding of reason. And, nevertheless, through the goodness
of God, because the soul doth as much as in it is, these human
affections of the soul stirred into God by man's working are
turned into spiritual affections, and are meritorious, as if they
had been done spiritually in the first beginning. And this is a
great courtesy of our Lord showed to humble souls, which turneth
all these human affections of natural love into the affection and
into the reward233 of His own love, as if He had wrought them all
fully by Himself. And so these human affections thus turned may be
called affections of spiritual love through purchase, not through
kindly bringing forth of the Holy Ghost. I say not that a soul can
work such human affections only of itself without grace; for I wot
well that St Paul saith that we can do just nought, nor think
anything that is good of ourselves without grace. Non enim quod
sumus sufficientes, &c. -- Not as if we were sufficient of
ourselves to think anything as of ourselves, but all our
sufficiency is of God.234 For God worketh in all both good work
and good will, as St Paul saith: It as God that worketh in us both
to will and to do, according to His good pleasure.235 But I say
that such affections are good, being made by the will and
endeavours of a soul according to the general grace that He giveth
to all chosen souls, not of special grace made spiritually by the
touching of His gracious presence, as He worketh in His perfect
love, as I said before; for in unperfect lovers love worketh at a
distance by human affections; but in perfect lovers love worketh
nearly by her own spiritual affections, and killeth in a soul, for
the time, all other affections, both carnal, natural and human;
and that is properly the working of love by itself. Thus love may
be had in some measure,236 in part, here in a pure soul through
the spiritual sight of Jesus; but in the bliss of Heaven it is
fulfilled by clear sight in His Godhead; for there shall no
affections be felt in a soul but such as are divine and spiritual.

CHAPTER VI

That the Gift of Love, amongst all other Gifts of Jesus, is most
worthy and most profitable. And how Jesus doth all that is well
done in His lovers, only for Love. And how Love maketh the
exercise of all virtues and all good Deeds light and easy

ASK, then, of God nothing but this gift of love, which is the Holy
Ghost. For among all the gifts that our Lord giveth there is none
so good, nor so profitable, so worthy nor so excellent as this is.
For there is no gift of God that is both the giver and the gift,
but this gift of love; and, therefore, it is the best and the
worthiest. The gift of prophecy, the gift of working miracles, the
gift of great knowledge and counsel, and the gift of great
fasting, or of great penance doing, or any other such, are great
gifts of the Holy Ghost, but they are not the Holy Ghost, for a
reprobate and damnable soul may have all these gifts as well as an
elect soul. And, therefore, all these kinds of gifts are not
greatly to be desired or cared for much. But the gift of love is
the Holy Ghost, God Himself, and Him can no soul have and withal
be damned; for that gift alone saveth from damnation, and maketh
it God's son, and a receiver237 of the heavenly heritage. And that
love, as I have said before, is not the affection of love that is
created in a soul, but it is the Holy Ghost Himself, that is, love
uncreated, that saveth a soul. For He first giveth Himself to that
soul before the soul loveth Him, and He formeth the affection in
the soul, and maketh the soul to love Him only for Himself. And
not only so, but also by this gift the soul loveth itself, and her
neighbour as herself only for God. And this is the gift of love
that maketh the distinction betwixt chosen and reprobate souls.
And this gift maketh perfect peace betwixt God and a soul, and
uniteth all blessed creatures wholly in God; for it maketh Jesus
for to love us, and us Him also, and each of us to love one
another in Him.

Covet this gift of love principally, as I have said; for if He
please out of His grace to give it thee on that manner, it shall
open and enlighten the reason of thy soul, to see verity, that is
God, and spiritual things. And it shall stir up thy affections
wholly and fully for to love Him. And it shall work in thy soul
only as He will, and thou shalt behold Jesus reverently, with
softness of love, and see how He worketh. Thus commanded He by His
Prophet that we should do, saying thus: Vaacaate et videte quoniam
ego sum Deus. -- Cease ye, and see that I am God.238 That is, ye
that are reformed in feeling, and have your inner eye opened into
sight of spiritual things, cease ye sometime from outward working,
and see that I am God. That is, see only how I, Jesus, God and
Man, do; behold ye Me, for I do all, I am love, and for love I do
all that I do, and ye do nought. And that this is truth, I shall
show you, for there is no good deed done by you, nor good thought
felt in you, but what is done by Me. That is, through power and
wisdom and love mightily, wisely and lovely, else it is no good
deed. But now it is true that I, Jesus, am both power and wisdom
and blessed love, and ye are naught, for I am God. Therefore may
you easily see that I do all your good deeds, and all your good
thoughts, and all your good loves in you, and ye do right nought.
And yet, nevertheless, be all these good deeds called yours. Not
because ye work them principally, but for that I give them unto
you for love that I bear to you. And, therefore, since I am Jesus,
and for love do all this, cease then ye from beholding of
yourselves, and set yourselves at nought, and look on Me, and see
that I am God, for I do all this. This is somewhat of the meaning
of that verse of David before said.

See then and behold what love worketh in a chosen soul, which he
reformeth in feeling to his likeness, when the reason is
enlightened to the spiritual knowing of Jesus, and to the feeling
of His love. Then bringeth love into the soul the perfection of
virtues, and turneth them all into quietness,239 and into liking,
as it were, without working of the soul; for the soul striveth not
much for the getting of them, as it did before; but it hath them
easily, and feeleth them restfully, only through the gift of love,
that is, the Holy Ghost. And that is a very great comfort, and
gladness unspeakable, when she feeleth suddenly in herself (and
scarce knows how) the virtues of humility and patience, sobriety
and staidness,240 chastity and purity and love to her neighbour.
And all other virtues which were sometimes travaillous,241 painful
and hard for to keep, are now turned into easiness,242 and liking,
and into wonderful lightness, insomuch that she thinketh it no
mastery nor difficulty to keep every virtue, but it is most
pleasing to him to keep it, and all this is made by love.

Other men that stand in the way of common charity, and are not yet
got so far in grace, but work under the command of reason, they
strive and fight all day against sins for the procuring of
virtues; and sometimes they be above, and sometimes beneath as
wrestlers are.

These men do full well, they have virtues in reason, and will, not
in savour, nor in love. For they fight with themselves as it were
by their own might for them; therefore cannot they fully have
rest, nor perfectly the higher hand. Nevertheless they shall have
great reward,243 but they are not yet humble enough. They have not
yet put themselves altogether into God's hand, for they see Him
not yet. But a soul that hath spiritual sight of Jesus taketh no
great care of striving for virtues for that time. He is not busy
about them particularly, but he maketh it all his business to keep
that sight, and that beholding of Jesus which it hath for to hold
the mind stably thereto, and bind his love only to it, that it
fall not from it, but forget all other things as much as it can.
And when it doth thus, then is Jesus verily Master against all
sins, and overshadoweth it with His blessed presence, and getteth
it all virtues. And the soul is so comforted and so borne up with
the restful244 feeling of love that it hath of the sight of Jesus,
that it feeleth no great disease outwardly. And thus doth love
generally slay all sins in a soul, and reformeth it in the new
feelings of virtues.

CHAPTER VII

How Love through gracious Beholding of Jesus slayeth all stirrings
of Pride; and maketh the Soul to lose the savour and delight in
all earthly Honours245

NEVERTHELESS I shall tell thee more particularly how love killeth
sins in a soul, and reformeth virtues. And first of Pride, and the
virtue contrary thereto, namely, Humility. Thou must understand
that there be two kinds of Humility; one is had by working of
reason; another is felt by the special gift of love. Both are of
love, but the former love worketh by, and with the reason of the
soul, and the latter love worketh by herself. The first is
imperfect, the other is perfect. The first a man feeleth from the
beholding of his own sins and wretchedness, through the which
beholding he thinketh himself unworthy to have any gift of grace,
or any reward of God, but thinketh it enough that He would of His
great mercy, grant him forgiveness of his sins. And also he
thinketh himself, because of his sins, to be worse than the
greatest sinner that liveth, and that every man doth better than
he. And by such beholding thrusteth he himself down in his
thoughts under all men. And he is busy to withstand the stirrings
of pride as much as he can, both bodily and spiritual pride, and
despiseth himself so that he assenteth not to the feelings of
pride. And if his heart be taken sometimes with it, that it be
defiled with vain joy of worship and praise from others; or from
the conceit of his wit, or of any other thing, as soon as he
perceiveth it he is displeased with himself, and hath sorrow for
it in heart, and asketh forgiveness for it of God, and showeth
himself to his confessor, and accuseth himself humbly, and
receiveth his penance. This is good humility, but it is not yet
perfect humility; for it is of souls that are beginning and
profiting in grace caused by the beholding of their sins. Love
worketh this humility by reason.

Perfect humility a soul feeleth from the sight and spiritual
knowing of Jesus; for when the Holy Ghost lighteneth the reason
into the sight of verity, how Jesus is all, and that He doth all,
the soul hath so great love and so great joy in that spiritual
sight (for it is really so indeed) that it forgetteth itself,
fully leaneth to Jesus with all the love that it hath to behold
Him. It taketh no heed246 of any unworthiness of itself, nor of
sins aforedone, but setteth at nought itself, with all the sins,
and all the good deeds that ever it did, as if there were nothing
but Jesus. Thus was David humble when he said thus: Et substantia
mea tanquam nihilum ante Te. -- And my substance is as nothing
before Thee.247 That is, Lord Jesus, the sight of why blessed
uncreated substance and of Thine endless Being showeth well unto
me that my substance and being of my soul is as nought in regard
of Thee.

Also, such a soul in respect to his neighbour hath no regard to
him, nor judging of him, whether he be better or worse than
himself; for he esteemeth himself and all other men to be all
alike, and to be just nought of themselves in regard of God (and
this is very so). For all the goodness that is wrought in himself,
or in others, is only of God, whom he beholdeth as all in all. And
therefore setteth he all other creatures at nought, as he doth
himself. Thus humble was the Prophet when he said thus: Omnes
gentes quasi non sint sic sunt coram eo, &c. -- All nations are
before our Lord as if they were not, and are reputed as
nothing,248 and as a vain thing.249 That is, in comparison250 of
the endless Being, and the unchangeable nature of God, mankind is
as nought; for of nought was it made, and to nought shall it
return, unless He keep it in its being that made it of nought.
This is truth, and this should make a soul humble, if by grace it
could see this truth. Therefore when once love openeth the inner
eye of the soul, for to see this truth, with other circumstances
that attend it, then beginneth the soul to be really humble; for
then through the sight of God it feeleth and seeth itself as it
is; and then doth the soul forsake the beholding and leaning upon
itself; and fully falleth to the beholding of Jesus. And when it
doth so, then setteth the soul nought by all the joy and worship
of the world, for the joy of worldly worship is so little, and so
nought, in regard of that joy and of that love that it feeleth in
the spiritual sight of Jesus and knowledge of the truth that,
though it might have it without any sin, he would have nothing to
do with it. No, though men would worship him, praise him, and
favour him, or set him in great state, it would nothing at all
please him. No, though he had great skill in all the seven liberal
sciences, and of all skill under the sun, or had power to work all
manner of miracles, yet would he take no more delight251 in all
this, nor no more savour than to gnaw on a dry stick. He had
rather forget all this, and to be alone out of the sight of the
world, than to think of them and be worshipped of all men; for the
heart of a true lover of Jesus is made so much, and so large
through a little sight of Him, and a little feeling of His
spiritual love, that all the liking and all the joy of all the
earth cannot suffice to fill a corner of it. And then appeareth it
well that these wretched worldly lovers, that are, as it were,
ravished with the love of their own worship, and pursue after it
to have it with all the might and all the wit they have, they have
no taste of this Humility, but are wondrous far from it. But the
lover of Jesus hath this humility lastingly, and that not with
heaviness and striving for it, but with liking and gladness. The
which gladness he hath not therefore, because he forsaketh the
worship of the world, for that were a proud humility belonging to
an hypocrite; but because he hath a sight and a spiritual knowing
of the verity and worthiness of Jesus through the gift of the Holy
Ghost. That reverend sight, and that lovely beholding of Jesus
comforteth his love so wonderfully, and beareth it up so mightily
and so easily,252 that verily it cannot like, nor fully rest in
any earthly joy, nor would he if he could. He maketh no matter
whether men praise him or dispraise253 him, worship him or despise
him, as to himself he sets it not to heart, neither to be well
pleased254 (for his greater humiliation) when men despise him, nor
to be displeased when men worship him or praise him. He had rather
forget both the one and the other, and only think on Jesus, and
get humility by that way. And that is much the securer way
whosoever can attain to it. Thus did David when he said: Oculi mei
semper ad Dominum, &c. -- My eyes are always to the Lord, for He
shall pluck my feet out of the net.255 For when he doth so, then
forsaketh he utterly himself, and casteth himself wholly under
Jesus, and then is he in a secure guard; for the shield of Truth
which he holdeth keepeth him so well that he shall not be hurt
through any stirring of pride, as long as he holdeth himself
within the shield. As the Prophet saith: Sucto circumdabit te
veritas ejus, &c. -- Verity shall compass thee with a shield.256
And that is, if thou, leaving all other things, only beholdest
Him; for then shalt thou not dread for the night's dread; that is,
thou shalt not fear the spirit of pride, whether he come by night
or by day, as the next verse saith thus: A sagitta volaante in die
-- From the arrow that flieth by day. Pride cometh by night to
assail a soul when it is despised and contemned of other men, that
thereby it should fall into heaviness and into sorrow. It cometh
also as an arrow flying on the day, when a man is praised and
worshipped of all men; whether it be for wordly doing or
spiritual, that he should have vain joy in himself, and to rest
therein, and false gladness in a thing that is passing. This is a
sharp arrow and a perilous, it fleeth swiftly, and it striketh
softly, but it woundeth deadly. But the lover of Jesus, that
stably beholdeth by devout prayers, and busy thinking on him, is
so encompassed with the safe shield of Truth that he dreadeth it
not; for this arrow cannot enter into his soul. Nay, though it
come it hurteth him not, but glanceth257 away and passeth forth.

And thus is the soul made humble, as I understand, by the working
of the Holy Ghost, that is, the gift of love; for He openeth the
eye of the soul to see and love Jesus, and He keepeth the soul in
that sight restfully and securely; and He slayeth all the
stirrings of pride wonderfully and privily and softly, and the
soul knoweth258 not how. And also He bringeth in by that way
verily and lovely the virtue of humility. All this doth love, but
not in all lovers alike fully; for some have this grace but short
and little, as it were in the beginning of it, and a little
assaying toward it; for the conscience is not yet cleansed fully
through grace. And some have it more fully, for they have clearer
sight of Jesus, and they feel more of this love. And some have it
most fully, for they have the full gift of Contemplation.
Nevertheless, he that hath the least on this manner that I have
said, I hope verily he hath the gift of perfect humility, for he
hath the gift of perfect love.

CHAPTER VIII

How Love slayeth all stirrings of Wrath and Envy easily;259 and
reformeth in the Soul the virtues of Peace and Patience, and of
perfect Charity to his Neighbour, as He did specially in the
Apostles

Love slayeth Anger and Envy.

LOVE, where it worketh, worketh wisely and easily260 in a soul;
for he slayeth mightily anger and envy, and all passions of wrath
and melancholy in it, and bringeth into the soul the virtues of
patience and mildness, peaceableness and amity to his neighbour.
It is full hard and a great mastery for a man that standeth only
in working of his own reason to keep patience, holy rest and
softness in heart and charity to his neighbour, when they use him
hardly and do him wrong, that he do not through motion or rising
of anger or bitterness261 within him something against them,
either by word or deed, or both. (And nevertheless though a man be
stirred and troubled in himself, and made unrestful, if so be it
passeth not too much the bounds of reason, and that he keep his
hands and his tongue, and be ready to forgive the trespass when
forgiveness is asked, yet this man hath the virtue of patience,
though it be but weak and nakedly. Forasmuch as he desires to have
it, and laboureth busily in restraining his unruly passions to the
end that he may have it, and also is sorry that he hath it not as
he should.) But to a true lover of Jesus it is no great mastery
for to suffer all this; for why? Love fighteth for him, and
slayeth wondrous easily such stirrings of wrath and of melancholy;
and maketh his soul so easy and so peaceable, so suffering and so
goodly, through the spiritual sight of Jesus, with the feeling of
His blessed love, that though he be despised and contemned of
other men, or suffer wrong or harm, shame or villainy, he
heedeth262 it not, he is not much stirred against them; he will
not be angered nor stirred against them, for, if he were much
stirred, he should forego the comfort which he feeleth within his
soul, but that will he not. He can lightlier forget all the wrong
that is done him than another man can forgive it, though
forgiveness263 was asked him; and so he had rather264 forget it;
for he thinketh it most easy to him. And love doth all this, for
love openeth the eye of the soul to the sight of Jesus, and
establisheth it with the pleasure265 and content of love that it
feeleth by that sight, and comforteth it so mightily that it
taketh no heed266 whatever men jangle or do against him; it
resteth267 nothing upon him; the greatest harm that he can suffer
is a forbearing of the spiritual sight of Jesus; and therefore it
is better268 for him to suffer all harms than that alone. All this
can the soul do well and easily without great disturbing of this
spiritual sight, when the grievances fall outwardly and touch not
the body, as do backbitings or scornings or spoiling of his goods.
All these grieve him nought; but it goeth somewhat nearer when his
flesh is touched, and he feeleth smart, then is it harder.

Nevertheless, though it be hard and impossible to the frail nature
of man to suffer bodily penance gladly and patiently, without
bitter stirrings of ire, anger and melancholy, and yet it is not
impossible to love, that is, the Holy Ghost for to work this in a
soul, when He toucheth it with the blessed gift of love. But He
giveth a soul that is in that plight mightily the feelings of
love, and wonderfully fasteneth it to Jesus, and separateth it
very far from sensuality through His secret might, and comforteth
it so sweetly by His blessed presence that the soul feeleth little
pain or else none at all in the sensual part; and this is a
special grace given to the holy Martyrs.

This grace had the Apostles, as holy Writ saith of them thus:
Ibant Apostoli gaudentes, &c. -- The Apostles went from the
Council rejoicing, when they were beaten with scourges, and they
were glad that they were accounted worthy to suffer any bodily
pain for the love of Jesus.269 They were not stirred to anger, nor
to bitterness,270 to be revenged on the Jews that beat them, as a
worldly man would be when he suffered a little harm, were it never
so little, from his neighbour. Nay, they were not stirred to any
pride, nor highness of mind, nor to disdain or judge the Jews, as
hypocrites and heretics are who will suffer much bodily pain, and
are sometimes ready to suffer death with great gladness and with
mighty will, as it were in the name of Jesus, for love of Him.
Verily, that love and that gladness that they have in suffering of
bodily mischief is not of the Holy Ghost, it cometh not from the
fire that burneth on the High Altar of Heaven, but it is feigned
by the enemy, inflamed of hell; for it is fully mingled with the
height of pride, and of presumption of themselves, of despite and
judging and disdaining of those that thus punish them. They
imagine that all this is charity, and that they suffer all that
for the love of God, but they are beguiled by the mid-day fiend.

A true lover of Jesus, when he suffereth harm from his neighbour,
is so strengthened through grace of the Holy Ghost, and is made so
humble, so patient, so peaceable, and that so really, that what
harm or wrong soever he suffereth from his neighbour, he still
preserveth his humility, he despiseth him not, he judgeth him not,
but he prayeth for him in his heart, and hath pity and compassion
on him much more tenderly than of another man that never did him
harm; and verily loveth him better, and more fervently desireth
the salvation of his soul, because he seeth that we shall have so
much spiritual profit out of that evil deed of that man though it
be against his will. But this love and this meekness is wrought
only by the Holy Ghost above the nature of man in them whom He
maketh true lovers of Jesus.

CHAPTER IX

How Love slayeth Covetousness, Lechery and Gluttony, and the
fleshly delight and savour in all the five Bodily Senses, softly
and easily, through a gracious beholding of Jesus

Love slayeth Covetousness.

COVETOUSNESS also is slain in a soul by the working of love, for
it maketh the soul so covetous of spiritual good and so inflamed
to heavenly riches that it setteth right nought by all earthly
things. It hath no more joy in the having of a precious stone than
a chalk-stone; no more love hath he in an hundred pounds than in a
pound of lead. It setteth all things that must perish at one
price; he heedeth no more the one than the other, as to his love;
for he knows well that all these earthly things which worldly men
set so great price by and love so dearly must pass away and turn
to nothing, both the thing itself and the love of it. And
therefore he worketh his thoughts betimes into that judgement and
esteem of them which they must come to hereafter, and so
accounteth them as nought. And when worldly lovers strive and
fight and plead for earthly goods, who may first have them; the
lover of Jesus striveth with no man, but keepeth himself in peace,
and is well contented with that which he hath, and will strive for
no more; for he thinketh that he needs no more of all the riches
on earth than a scanty bodily sustenance for to sustain his bodily
life withal, as long as it pleaseth God, and that he can easily
have. And therefore would he have no more than he barely needeth
for the time, that he may freely be discharged from the trouble of
keeping and spending of it, and fully give his heart and his
business about the seeking of Jesus for to find Him in cleanness
of spirit; for that is all his covetousness; for why? -- only the
clean in heart shall see Him.

Love slayeth Natural Affections.

Also, the fleshly love of father and mother and other worldly
friends hangeth not upon him. It is even cut from his heart with
the sword of spiritual love, so that he hath no more affection to
father or mother, or to any worldly friend than he hath to another
man, except he see or feel in them more grace or more virtue than
in other men, or except that his father or mother hath the
selfsame grace that some other men have. But if they be not so,
then loveth he other men better than them, and that is charity.
And thus doth God's love slay covetousness of the world, and
bringeth into the soul poverty of spirit. And that doth love, not
only in them that have right nought of worldly goods, but also in
some creatures that are in great worldly state and have earthly
riches to spend. Love slayeth in some of them covetousness so far
forth that they have no more liking nor savour in having of them
than of a straw. No, though it should so happen that they should
lose them through default of those that should look after them,
yet set they nought thereby. For why? -- the heart of God's lover
is, through the gift of the Holy Ghost, taken so fully with the
sight of the love of another thing, which is Jesus, and that is so
precious and so worthy that it will receive no other love to rest
in it that is contrary thereto.

Love slayeth Lechery.

And not only doth love this, but also it slayeth the liking of
Lechery and all other bodily uncleanness, and bringeth into the
soul true chastity, and turneth it into liking. For the soul
feeleth so great delight in the sight of Jesus that it liketh for
to be chaste, and it is no great difficulty to it to keep
chastity, for therein is most ease and most rest.

How Love slayeth Gluttony.

And in the same manner the gift of love slayeth the lusts of
Gluttony, and maketh the soul sober and temperate, and beareth it
up so mightily that it cannot rest in the liking of meat and
drink. But it taketh such meat and drink, whatever it be, as least
hindereth or chargeth the bodily complexion, if it can easily come
by it; nor for the love of itself, but for the love of God. On
this wise the lover of God seeth well that he needeth to sustain
his bodily life with meat and drink, as long as God will suffer
them to continue together. Here, then, will be the discretion of
the lover of Jesus, as far as I understand that hath feeling and
working in love, that in what manner he may best keep his grace
whole, and be least letted from working in it through taking of
bodily sustenance, so shall he do. That kind of meat, which least
letteth and least troubleth the heart, and may keep the body in
strength, be it flesh, be it fish, be it bread and ale, that I
suppose the soul chooseth for to have, if it can come thereby. For
the whole business of the soul is to think on Jesus with reverent
love, constantly, without letting of anything, if that it might.
And therefore since it must needs be letted somewhat and hindered
the less it is letted and hindered by meat or drink or any other
thing the better it is. It had rather use the best meat and most
costly if it less hinder the keeping of his heart, than to take
only bread and water, if that hinder him more; for he hath no
regard for to get great merit by the pain of fasting, and be put
thereby from softness and quietness of heart, but all his business
is for to keep his heart as stably as he can in the sight of Jesus
and in the feeling of His love. And surely I am of the opinion
that he may with less lust and liking use the best meat, that is
good in its kind, than another man that worketh all by reason
without the special gift of love can use the worst. Ever excepting
such meat as is dressed with art and curiosity only for lust, for
such manner of meat cannot at all accord with him. And also on the
other side, if little meat, as only bread and beer, most helpeth
and quieteth his heart, and keepeth it most in peace, that is most
acceptable to him for to use; and, namely, if he feel his bodily
strength sustained thereby, and have the gift of love withal.

Love slayeth Sloth and Idleness.

And yet doth love more, for it slayeth sloth and fleshly idleness,
and maketh the soul to be occupied in goodness, and, namely,
inwardly in beholding of him, by virtue whereof the soul hath
savour and spiritual delight in praying, in meditating, and in all
manner of doing that belongeth to him to do according to the state
he is in, without heaviness or painful bitterness, whether he be
religious or secular.

Love slayeth the Delight of the Five Senses.

Also, it slayeth the vain likings of the five bodily senses. As
first of the sight of the eyes, so that the soul hath no liking in
the sight of any worldly thing, but feeleth rather pain and
disease in beholding of it, be it never so fair, never so
precious, never so wonderful. And, therefore, as worldly lovers
run out sometimes for to see new things, for to wonder at them,
and so for to feed their hearts with the vain sight of them; right
so a lover of Jesus is busy for to run away, and withdraw himself
from the sight of such manner of things, that the inner sight be
not letted; for he spiritually seeth another manner of thing,
which is fairer and more wonderful, and that would he not forbear.

Right on the self-same wise is it of speaking and hearing. It is a
pain to the soul of a lover of Jesus for to speak or hear anything
that might let the freedom of his heart from thinking on Jesus,
whatever song, or melody, or music271 outward it be, if it hinder
the thought that it cannot freely and restfully pray, or think on
him, it liketh him right nought. And the more delectable it is to
other men, the more unsavoury it is to him. And also to hear any
manner of speaking of other men, unless it be somewhat touching
the working of his soul into the love of Jesus, it liketh him
right nought, he is right soon weary of it. He had rather be in
peace, and hear right nought, nay speak right nought, than for to
hear the speaking and the teaching of the greatest Clerk on earth,
with all the reasons that he can say to him by human wit, except
he can speak feelingly and stirringly of the love of Jesus; for
there lies his skill272 principally. And therefore would not he
speak of anything else, nor hear, nor see anything, but what might
help him, and further him into more knowledge, and to better
feeling of Him.

Of worldly speech it is no doubt that he hath no savour in
speaking, nor in hearing of it, nor in worldly tales, nor tidings,
nor in any such vain jangling that belongeth not to Him. And the
same is of smelling and tasting. The more the thoughts are
distracted and broken from spiritual rest by the use either of
smelling, or tasting, or of any of the senses, the more he
avoideth it. The less that he feeleth of them, the better273 he
is. And if he could live in the body without the feeling of any of
them he would never feel them, for they trouble the heart oft-
times, and put it from rest; but they cannot fully be eschewed.
Nevertheless the love of Jesus is sometimes so mighty in a soul,
that it overcometh and slayeth all that is contrary thereto for a
time.

CHAPTER X

What virtues and Graces a Soul receiveth through opening of the
inner eye into the gracious Beholding of Jesus, and how it cannot
be gotten only by Man's Labour, but through special Grace and his
own Labour also

THUS worketh love in a soul, opening the ghostly eye into the
beholding of Jesus by inspiration of special grace, and maketh it
pure, subtle and able to the work of Contemplation. What this
opening of the spiritual eye is the greatest scholar on earth
cannot imagine by his wit nor show fully by his tongue; for it
cannot be gotten by study, nor by man's industry alone, but
principally by grace of the Holy Ghost, and with human industry. I
am afraid to speak anything of it, for methinketh that I cannot,
it passeth my attempt,274 and my lips are unclean. Nevertheless,
because it seems to me that love asketh, yea, love biddeth that I
should, therefore shall I say a little more of it as I hope love
teacheth. This opening of the spiritual eye is that lightsome
darkness and rich nought that I spake of before, and it may be
called purity of spirit and spiritual rest, inward stillness and
peace of conscience, highness of thought and loneliness of soul, a
lively feeling of grace and retiredness275 of heart, the watchful
sleep of the spouse and tasting of heavenly savour, burning in
love and shining in light, the gate276 of Contemplation and
reforming in feeling. All these expressions are found in holy
writings of divers men, for every one of them speaketh according
to his feeling in grace. And though all these be divers in show of
words, yet are they all one in meaning and verity; for that soul
which through visiting of grace hath one of them hath all. For
why? a soul sighing to see the Face of Jesus when it is touched
through special grace of the Holy Ghost, it is suddenly changed,
and turned from the state that it was in into another manner of
feeling. It is wonderfully separated and drawn first into itself,
from the love and the liking of all earthly things, so much that
it hath lost the savour of the bodily life, and of all things save
only Jesus. And then is it clean from all the filth of sin, so far
forth that the minding of itself, and all other inordinate
affections to any creature is suddenly washed and wiped away, so
that there remains no middle thing or impediment betwixt Jesus and
the soul, but only the bodily life, and then it is in spiritual
rest. For why? all painful doubts and fears, and all other
temptations of spiritual enemies are driven out of the heart, that
they trouble not, nor sink not into it for the time. It is in rest
from the annoyance of worldly business, and painful hindrances of
wicked stirrings; but it is full busy in the free spiritual
working of love. And the more it laboureth so, the more rest it
feeleth.

This restful labouring is full far from fleshly idleness and from
blind security. It is full of spiritual working, but it is called
rest, for that grace loseth the heavy yoke of fleshly love from
the soul, and maketh it mighty and free through the gift of
spiritual love for to work gladly, softly and delectably in all
things to which grace stirreth it to work in. And therefore it is
called an holy idleness and a rest most busy, and so it is in
regard of stillness from the great crying of the beastly noise of
fleshly desires and unclean thoughts. This stillness is made by
the inspiration of the Holy Ghost through the beholding of Jesus.
For why? His voice is so sweet and so mighty that it putteth to
silence in a soul all the jangling of all other speakers; for it
is a voice of power,277 softly founded in a pure soul, of the
which the Prophet saith thus: Vox Domini in virtute. -- The voice
of our Lord Jesus is with power.278 This voice is a lively words
and speedy, as the Apostle saith: Vivus est sermo Dei, &c. -- The
word of the Lord is lively and powerful, more piercing than any
sword is.279 Through speaking of this word is fleshly love slain,
and the soul kept in silence from all wicked stirrings. Of this
silence it is said in the Apocalypse thus: Factum est silentium in
coelo, &c. -- Silence was made in heaven as it were half an
hour.280 By Heaven is meant a pure soul lifted up through grace
from earthly love to heavenly conversation, and so it is in
silence. But forasmuch as that silence cannot last whole
continually by reason of the corruption of the bodily nature;
therefore it is compared to the time of half an hour, a very short
time the soul thinketh it to be, though it be never so long; and
therefore it is but half an hour.

And then hath it peace in conscience. For why? Grace putteth out
the gnawing, pricking, striving and fighting of sins, and bringeth
in peace and concord, and maketh Jesus and a soul both one in full
agreement of will. There is no upbraiding of sins, nor sharp
reproving of faults made at that time in a soul, for they have
kissed and are made friends, and all is forgiven that was done
amiss.

Thus feeleth the soul, then, with great humble security and great
spiritual gladness, and conceiveth a full great281 certainty of
salvation by this accordmaking; for it heareth a secret witnessing
of the Holy Ghost to the conscience, that he is a chosen son to a
heavenly heritage. Thus St Paul saith: Ipse Spiritus testimonium
perhibet spiritui nostro, &c. -- The Holy Spirit beareth witness
to our spirit that we are God's sons.282

This witnessing of conscience verily felt through grace is the
very joy of the soul, as the Apostle saith: Gloria mea est
testimonium, &c. -- My joy is the witness of my conscience:283 and
that is, when it witnesseth peace and accord, true love and
friendship betwixt Jesus and a soul. And when it is in this peace,
then is it in highness of thought.

When the soul is bound with the love of the world, then is it
beneath all creatures; for everything goeth over it, and beareth
it down by mastery, that it cannot see Jesus nor love Him. For
even as the love of the world is vain and fleshly, right so the
beholding and thinking and using of all creatures is fleshly; and
that is a thraldom of the soul. But then through opening of the
spiritual eye into Jesus the love is turned, and the soul is
raised up according to its own nature above all bodily creatures.
And then the beholding and thinking, and the using of them is
spiritual, for the love is spiritual. The soul hath then great
disdain to be obedient284 to the love of worldly things, for it is
high set above them through grace. It setteth nought by all the
world. For why? It will all pass away and perish. Unto this
highness of heart, as long as the soul is kept therein, cometh no
error nor deceit of the enemy; for Jesus is really in sight of the
soul at that time, and all other things are beneath it. Of this
the Prophet speaketh thus: Accedat homo ad cor altum et
exaltabitur Deus. -- Let a man come to a high heart, and God shall
be exalted.285 That is, a man that through grace cometh to the
highness of thought shall see that Jesus is only exalted above all
creatures, and he in Him.

And then is the soul thus set aloft, estranged from the fellowship
of worldly lovers, though his body be in the midst among them,
full far is he parted from carnal affections of creatures. He
careth not though he never see man, nor speak with him, nor have
comfort from him, that he might for ever continue in that
spiritual feeling. He feeleth so great familiarity286 of the
blessed presence of our Lord Jesus, and so much savour of Him,
that he can easily for love of Him forget the fleshly affection
and the fleshly mind of all creatures. I say not that he shall not
love nor think of other creatures, that he shall think on them in
fitting time, and see them and love them spiritually and freely,
not fleshly and painfully as he did before. Of this loneliness
speaketh the Prophet thus: Ducam eam in solitudinem, &c. -- I will
lead her into solitude,287 and I will speak to her heart.288 That
is, the grace of Jesus leadeth the soul from troublesome289
company of fleshly desires into loneliness of thought, and maketh
it forget the liking of the world, and soundeth by sweetness of
His inspiration words of love in the ears of the heart. A soul is
thus lonely when it loveth Jesus, and attendeth fully to Him, and
he hath lost the savour and the comfort of the world; and that it
may better keep this loneliness, it fleeth the company of men as
much as it can; and seeketh loneliness of body, which helpeth much
to the loneliness of the soul, and to the free working of love,
the less hindrance that it hath from without of vain janglings, or
from within of vain thinking, the more free it is in spiritual
beholding. And so it is in retiredness290 of heart.

A soul is all without, whilst it is overlaid and blinded with
worldly love, it is as common as the highway, for every stirring
which cometh from the flesh or from the fiend sinketh in or goeth
through it. But then through grace it is drawn into the privy-
chamber, into the sight of our Lord Jesus, and heareth His privy
counsel, and is wonderfully comforted in the hearing. Of this
speaketh the Prophet thus: Secretum meum mihi, secretum meum mihi.
-- My privity to me, my privity to me.291 That is, the lover of
Jesus, through inspiration of grace, taken up from outward feeling
of worldly love, and ravished into the privity of spiritual love,
yieldeth thanks to Him, saying thus: My privity to me. That is, my
Lord Jesus, Thy privity is showed to me, and privily hid from all
lovers of the world; for it is called hidden Manna, which may
easier be asked than told what it is. And that our Lord Jesus
promiseth to His lover, saying thus: Dabo sibi Manna absconditum,
&c. -- I will give her the hidden Manna which no man knoweth but
he that taketh it.292 This Manna is heavenly meat, and angels'
food, as the Scripture saith; for angels are fully fed and filled
with clear sight in burning love of our Lord Jesus, and that is
Manna; for we may ask what it is, but cannot know what it is. But
the lover of Jesus is not yet filled here, but is fed with a
little taste of it, whilst he is bound in this bodily life.

This tasting of this Manna is a lively feeling of grace had
through the opening of the spiritual eye. And this grace is not
another grace from that which a chosen soul feeleth in the
beginning of his conversion; but it is the self-same grace, only
it is otherwise felt and showed to a soul. For why? Grace groweth
with a soul, and the soul groweth with grace. And the clearer that
a soul is parted from the love of the world, the more mighty is
its grace, the more inward and more spiritual is the showing of
the presence of our Lord Jesus come to be. So that the same grace
which at first turneth him from sin, and maketh him beginning and
profiting by gifts of virtue and exercise of good works, maketh
him also perfect. And that grace is called a lively feeling of
grace; for he that hath it feeleth it well, and knoweth well by
experience that he is in grace. It is full lively to him; for it
quickeneth the soul wonderfully, and maketh it so whole that it
feeleth no painful disease of the body, though it be feeble and
sickly. For why? Then is the body most mighty, most whole and most
restful, and the soul also. Without this grace the soul cannot
live but in pain; for it thinketh that it can keep it for ever,
and nothing can put it away; but it is not so, for it passeth away
full easily. Nevertheless though the sovereign feeling passeth
away, and is withdrawn, the virtue293 of it stayeth still, and
keepeth the soul in sobriety,294 and maketh it to desire the
coming again thereof.

And this is the waking sleep of the Spouse, of the which the
Scripture thus: Ego dormio, et cor meum vigilat. -- I sleep, and
my heart waketh.295 That is, I sleep spiritually when through
grace the love of the world is slain in me, and wicked stirrings
of fleshly desires are dead, insomuch that I scarce feel them. I
am not held by them, my heart is made free. And then it waketh,
for it is quick and ready to love Jesus, and see Him. The more I
sleep from outward things, the more am I awake in knowing of Jesus
and of inward things. I cannot be awake to Jesus, except I sleep
to the world. And therefore the grace of the Holy Ghost, shutting
the fleshly eye, causeth the soul to sleep from worldly vanities,
and opening the spiritual eye, keepeth it awake to the sight of
God's majesty covered under the cloud of His precious Humanity. As
the Gospel saith of the Apostles, when they were with our Lord
Jesus in His transfiguration, first they slept: Et evigilantes
viderunt majestatem. -- They waking beheld His glory.296 By sleep
of the Apostles is understood the dying of worldly love through
the inspiration of the Holy Ghost; by their awaking is understood
their Contemplation of Jesus. Through this sleep the soul is
brought into rest from the noise of fleshly lust, and through
waking is raised up to the sight of Jesus and spiritual things.
The more that the eyes are shut297 in this manner of sleep from
the appetite of earthly things, the sharper is the inner sight in
lovely beholding of heavenly beauty.298 This sleeping and this
waking doth love work through the light of grace in the soul of
the lover of our Lord Jesus.

CHAPTER XI

How such special Grace for the Beholding of our Lord Jesus is
withdrawn sometimes from a Soul; and how a Soul is to behave
herself in the Absence and in the Presence of Jesus, and how a
Soul shall alway desire (as much as is in her) the gracious
Presence of Jesus

SHOW me then a soul that through inspiration of grace hath this
opening of the spiritual sight into the beholding of Jesus that is
separated and drawn out from the love of the world, so far forth
that it hath purity and privity of spirit, spiritual rest, inward
silence and peace of conscience, highness of thought, loneliness
and privity of heart, the waking sleep of the Spouse, that hath
lost the liking and joys of the world, taken with delight of
heavenly savour, ever thirsting and softly hasting299 after that
blessed presence of Jesus; and I dare boldly300 pronounce that
this soul burneth all in love, and shineth in spiritual light,
worthy to come to the name and to the worship of the Spouse; for
it is reformed in feeling, made able and ready to Contemplation.
These are the tokens of inspiration in opening of the spiritual
eye. For when the eye is opened, the soul is in full feeling of
all the aforesaid virtues for that time.

The state of Aridities.

Nevertheless it falleth out oftentimes that grace withdraweth in
part by reason of the corruption of man's frailty, and suffereth
then the soul to fall into itself in sensuality,301 as it was
before; and then is the soul in pain and in sorrow, for it is
blind and unsavoury and can do no good. It is weak and impotent,
encumbered with the body and all the bodily senses. It seeketh and
desireth after the grace of Jesus again, and it cannot find it;
for the Scripture saith thus of our Lord: Postquam vultum suum
absconderit, &c. -- When our Lord hath hid His face, there is none
that can behold Him.302 When He showeth His face, the soul cannot
but see Him, for He is light; and when He hideth Himself, it
cannot see Him, for the soul is dark.

His hiding is but a subtle trying of the soul. His showing is a
wonderful merciful goodness in comfort of the soul. Wonder not
though the feelings of grace be sometimes withdrawn from a lover
of Jesus; for holy Writ saith the same of the Spouse, that it
fareth thus with her: Quaesivi et non inveni illum, &c. -- I
sought Him, and I found Him not; I called, and He answered not.303
That is, when I fall down to my frailty and sin, then grace
withdraweth; for my falling is the cause thereof, and not His
flying, but then feel I pain of my wretchedness in His absence.
And, therefore, I sought Him by great desire of heart, and He gave
to me not so much as a feeble answer. And then I cried with all my
soul: Revertere, dilecte mi -- Turn again, Thou my beloved.304 And
yet He seemed as if He heard me not. The painful feeling of
myself, and the assailing of fleshly loves and fears in this time,
and the wanting of my spiritual strength is a continual crying of
my soul to Jesus. And nevertheless our Lord maketh strange, and
cometh not, cry I never so fast; for He is sure enough of His
lover, that he will not turn again to worldly loves quite; he can
have no savour in them, and, therefore, stayeth He the longer.

But at the last when He pleaseth, He cometh again full of grace
and faithfulness,305 and visiteth the soul that languisheth
through desire, by sighings of love after His presence, and
toucheth it, and anointeth it full gently306 with the oil of
gladness, and maketh it suddenly whole from all pain. And then
crieth the soul to Jesus in a spiritual voice with a glad heart
thus: Oleum effusum Nomen tuum. -- Thy Name is as oil poured
out.307 Thy Name is Jesus, that is, health. Then as long as I feel
my soul sore and sick by reason of sin, pained with the heavy
burthen of my body, sorrowful and fearful for perils and
wretchedness of this life, so long, Lord Jesus, Thy Name is oil
shut up, not poured forth. But when I feel my soul suddenly
touched with the light of Thy grace, healed and cured308 from all
the filth of sin, and comforted in love and in light with
spiritual strength and gladness unspeakable, then can I say with
lusty, loving and spiritual might to Thee: Thy Name, O Jesu, is to
me oil poured forth. For by the effect of Thy gracious visitation
I feel well the true exposition of Thy Name, that Thou art Jesus,
health, for only Thy gracious presence healeth me from sorrow and
from sin.

Happy is that soul that is ever fed with feeling of love in His
presence, or is borne up by desire to Him in His absence. A wise
lover is he, and well taught, that soberly and reverently behaveth
himself in His presence, and lovely beholdeth Him without
dissolute lightness, and patiently and easily beareth His absence
without venomous despair and over painful bitterness.

This changeability of the absence and presence of Jesus, which a
soul feeleth, is neither the perfection of the soul nor is it
contrary to the grace of perfection or of Contemplation, but only
a state of less perfection; for the more letting that a soul hath
of itself from the constant feeling of grace, the less is the
grace; and yet, nevertheless, is the grace in itself grace of
Contemplation. This changeability of absence and presence falleth
as well in the state of perfection as in the state of beginning,
but after another manner; for even as there is diversity of
feeling in the presence of grace betwixt these two states, right
so is there in the absence of grace. And, therefore, he that
knoweth not the absence of grace is apt to be deceived. And he
that maketh309 not much of the presence of grace is unthankful310
to the visiting thereof, whether he be in the state of beginners
or of the perfect. Nevertheless, the more stableness that there is
in grace unhurt and unbroken, the lovelier is the soul, and more
like unto Him in whom is no changeableness,311 as the Apostle
saith. And it is very meet that the Spouse should be like her
Bridegroom Jesus in manners and in virtues, fully according to Him
in stableness of perfect love. But that falleth out seldom here in
Spouses of this life; for he that perceiveth no changeableness in
the feeling of his grace, but is all alike, whole, stable,
unbroken and unhurt, as he thinketh, he is either very perfect or
very blind. He is perfect if he be sequestered from all carnal
affections and inclinations312 to creatures, and hath all
hindrances313 of corruption and of sin betwixt Jesus and his soul
broken away, and is fully united314 to Him with softness of love.
But this is only from grace above man's nature. Or he is very
blind if he imagineth himself to be in grace without spiritual
feeling of God's inspiration, and setteth himself in a way of
stableness, as if he were ever in feeling and in working of
special grace, imagining all to be grace which he doth and
feeleth, both inwardly and outwardly, thinking that whatsoever he
doth or speaketh is grace, holding himself unchangeable in
speciality of grace. If there be any such, as I hope there is
none, he is full blind in feeling of grace.

But thou mayest object: That we ought to live only by Faith, and
not covet spiritual feelings, nor regard them if they come; for
the Apostle saith: The just shall live by faith.315

Unto this I answer that bodily feelings, be they never so
comfortable, are not to be desired nor regarded much if they come;
but spiritual feelings, such as I have spoken of, if they come in
that manner as I have said, should ever be desired. I mean the
killing of all worldly love, the opening of the spiritual eye,
purity of spirit, peace of conscience and all other spoken of
before. We should ever covet to feel the lively inspiration of
grace made by the spiritual presence of Jesus in our souls, if we
could. And for to have Him in our sight with reverence, and ever
feel the sweetness of His love by a wonderful familiarity of His
presence. This should be our life and our feeling in grace after
the measure of His gift in whom all grace is, to some more and to
some less; for His presence is felt in divers manners as He
pleaseth. And in this we should live and work that which belongeth
to us to work, for without this we should not be able to live
spiritually. For as the soul is the life of the body, right so is
Jesus the life of the soul by His gracious presence.

And, nevertheless, this manner of feeling, though it be never so
much, is but in faith in comparison of that which shall be of the
selfsame Jesus in the bliss of Heaven. Lo, this feeling should we
desire; for every reasonable soul ought to covet, with all its
power, to approach to Jesus, and to be united to Him through
feeling of His gracious invisible presence. How that presence is
felt may better be known by experience than by any writing; for it
is the life and the love, the might and the light, the joy and the
rest of a chosen soul. And therefore, he that hath once truly felt
it cannot forbear it without pain, neither can he choose but
desire it, it is so good in itself and so comfortable. What is
more comfortable here for a soul than to be drawn out through
grace from the noisomeness of worldly business and filth of
desires, and from vain affection of all creatures, into rest and
softness of spiritual love, secretly perceiving the gracious
presence of Jesus, and feelingly fed with the savour of His
invisible blessed Face? Verily, I think nothing can make the soul
of a lover full of mirth but the gracious presence of Jesus, as He
can show Himself to a pure soul; such an one is never heavy, never
sorry but when he is with himself in sensuality. He is never full
glad, nor merry, but when he is out of himself as being with Jesus
in spirit.

And yet is that no full mirth, for there ever hangeth a heavy lump
of bodily corruption on his soul, and beareth it down, and
hindereth much the spiritual gladness, and this must ever be
whilst it is here in this life. But whereas I have before spoken
of the changeability of grace, how it cometh and goeth, that thou
mistake me not; thou must understand that I mean not of common
grace, that is had and felt in faith and in goodwill to God;
without having and lusting of which, and continuing in it, none
can be saved, for it is in the least chosen soul that liveth. But
I mean of special grace felt by inspiration of the Holy Ghost in
that manner as I have said before. Common grace, which is Charity,
lasteth whole whatsoever a man doth, as long as his will and his
intent is true to God, which will of his keepeth him from sinning
deadly, and the deed that he wittingly doth is not forbidden under
a mortal sin; for this grace is not lost but by mortal sins. And
then is a sin mortal when his conscience witnesseth with
deliberation that it is mortal sin, and yet nevertheless he doth
it; or else his conscience is so blinded that he holdeth it no
deadly sin, although he doth the deed wilfully, which is forbidden
by God and holy Church as a deadly sin.

Special grace felt through the invisible presence of Jesus, which
maketh a soul a perfect lover, lasteth not ever alike whole in the
height of feeling, but changeably cometh and goeth, as I have said
before. Thus our Lord saith: Spiritus ubi vult spirat, &c. -- The
spirit bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest His voice, but
thou knowest not whence He cometh, nor whither He goeth.316 He
cometh secretly sometimes when thou art least aware of Him, but
thou shalt know Him full well ere He go; for He wonderfully
stirreth and mightily turneth thy heart into the beholding of His
goodness, and then doth thy heart melt delectably as wax against
the fire into softness of His love, and this is the voice that He
soundeth. But then He goeth ere thou perceivest, for He
withdraweth Himself somewhat, not wholly altogether, but from
excess into moderation.317 The height of feeling passeth, but the
substance and the effect of Grace dwelleth still. And that is as
long as the soul of a lover keepeth himself pure, and falleth not
wilfully into wretchedness or carelessness318 in sensuality, nor
to outward vanity, as sometimes it doth (though it have no delight
therein) out of frailty. This is the changeability of grace which
I meant and spake of.

CHAPTER XII

A Commendation of Prayer offered up to Jesus by a Contemplative
Soul, and how stableness in Prayer is a secure work to stand in;
and how every Feeling of Grace in a chosen Soul may be called
Jesus. But the more clean the Soul is, the more worthy the Grace
is

THE soul of a man, whilst it is not touched with special grace, is
blunt and gross for spiritual work, and can do nought therein. It
skilleth not thereof by reason of its weakness. It is both old and
dry, undevout and unsavoury in itself. But then cometh the light
of grace, and through touching maketh it sharp and subtle, ready
and able to spiritual work, and giveth it a great freedom and a
perfect readiness in will to be pliable319 to all the stirrings of
grace, ready to work after that grace stirreth the soul. For by
opening of the spiritual eye it is wholly applied to grace, ready
to pray. And how the soul then prayeth I shall tell thee.

The most special prayer that the soul useth and hath most comfort
in, I suppose, is the Pater noster or else Psalms of the Psalter.
The Pater noster for unlearned men; and Psalms and Hymns and other
service of holy Church for the learned. The soul prayeth,
therefore, not in that manner as it did before, after the common
way of men by highness of voice, or by reasonable speaking out;
but in full great stillness of voice and softness of heart. For
why? His mind is not troubled nor hindered with outward things,
but wholly gathered together into itself. And the soul is set, as
it were, in the spiritual presence of Jesus, and, therefore, every
word and every syllable is sounded savourly, sweetly and
delectably, with full accord of mouth and of heart. For why? The
soul is then turned all into the fire of love. And, therefore,
every word that it secretly prayeth is like a spark rising out of
a burning fire, which heateth320 all the powers of the soul, and
turneth them into love, and enlighteneth them so comfortably that
the soul listeth ever to pray and to do nothing else. The more it
prayeth the better it may, and the mightier it is. For grace
helpeth the soul well, and maketh all things light and easy, that
it delighteth to chant and sing the praises321 of God with
spiritual mirth in heavenly delight. This spiritual work is the
food of the soul, and this prayer is of great virtue, for it
wasteth and bringeth to nought all secret and open temptations of
the enemy, and slayeth all the mind and all the liking of the
world and of fleshly sins. It beareth up the body and the soul
from painful feeling of the wretchedness of this life. It keepeth
the soul in the feeling of grace and working of love, and
nourisheth it ever alike hot, as sticks nourisheth the fire. It
putteth away all irksomeness and heaviness of heart, and holdeth
it in strength and spiritual gladness.

Of this prayer speaketh David thus: Dirigatur oratio mea sicut
incensum &c. -- Let my prayer be dressed as incense in Thy
sight.322 For even as incense that is cast into the fire maketh a
sweet smell by the smoke rising up to the air, right so a Psalm
savourly and softly sung or said in a burning heart, giveth up a
sweet smell to the face of our Lord Jesus, and to all the Court of
Heaven. There dare no flesh-fly rest upon the pot's brink boiling
on the fire. Even so can no fleshly delight rest upon a clean
soul, that is all bilapped323 and warmed in the fire of love,
boiling and blowing up Psalms and prayers to Jesus. This prayer is
always heard of Jesus. It yieldeth grace to Jesus, and receiveth
grace again. It maketh a soul familiar,324 and, as it were, hail-
fellow with Jesus, and with all the Angels in Heaven, use it who
so can. The work is good and gracious in itself. And though it be
not altogether perfect Contemplation in itself, nor the working of
love by itself, nevertheless it is in part Contemplation. For why?
It cannot be exercised in this manner but by plenty of grace
through opening of the spiritual eye. And, therefore, a soul that
hath this freedom and this gracious feeling in praying with
spiritual savour and heavenly delight hath the grace of
Contemplation in the manner as it is.

This prayer is a rich offering filled all with fatness of
devotion, received by Angels and presented to the face of Jesus.
The prayer of other men, who are busy in active works, is made of
two words; for they oftentimes form in their hearts one word
through thinking of worldly business, and speak with their mouth
another word of the Psalm sung or said. Yet, nevertheless, if his
intent be true his prayer is good and acceptable, though it lack
savour and sweetness. But this prayer of a Contemplative man is
made but of one word; for as it is formed in the heart, right so
doth it wholly sound in the mouth, as it were nothing but one and
the same thing, both which formeth it and which soundeth it. And
verily no more it is, for the soul, through grace, is made whole
in itself so far parted from sensuality,325 that it is master of
the body, and then is the body nothing else but as an instrument
and a trumpet of the soul in the which the soul bloweth sweet
notes of spiritual prayers to Jesus. This is the trumpet that
David spake of thus: Buccinate in neomenia, &c. -- Blow ye the
trumpet in the new moon.326 That is, ye souls that are reformed in
spiritual life through opening of the inner eye, blow ye devoutly
the sounding of Psalms with the trumpet of your bodily tongue.
And, therefore, since this prayer is pleasant to Jesus, and so
profitable to the soul, it is good for him who is new converted to
God (and desires to please Him, and coveteth to have some quaint
feeling of grace) to covet this feeling, that he may through grace
come to this liberty of spirit and offer his prayers and his
Psalms to Jesus continually and stably and devoutly, with whole
mind and burning affection towards Him, so that he may be ready
for it through custom when grace will stir him up thereto. This is
a secure feeling, and a true one. If thou canst attain unto it and
keep it, thou shalt not need to run about here and there and ask
questions of every spiritual man what thou shouldst do, how thou
shouldst love God, and how thou shouldst serve God, and speak of
spiritual matters, that pass thy understanding, as perhaps some
do: Such kind of doings are not profitable unless in case of
necessity. Keep thee to thy prayers, quietly at first with thy own
great industry, that thou mayest afterwards come to this restful
feeling of spiritual prayer, and that shall teach thee wisdom
enough in verity without feigning or fancy; and hold thee on in
such prayer if thou hast gotten it and leave it not; but if grace
come otherwise, and removeth it from thee for a time, causing thee
to work on another manner, then mayest thou leave it for a time,
and after return again thereto. And he that hath this grace in
prayer asketh not whereupon he should set the point of his thought
in his prayer, whether upon the words that he speaketh, or else on
God, or on the Name of Jesus, as some ask, for this feeling of
grace will teach him well enough. For why? The soul is turned into
the eye, and sharply beholdeth the face of Jesus, and is
ascertained that it is Jesus that it feeleth and seeth. I do not
mean Jesus as He is in Himself, in fulness of His blessed Godhead;
but I mean Jesus, as He is pleased to show Himself to a clean
soul, yet in the body according to the cleanness that it hath. For
thou must know that every feeling of grace is Jesus, and may be
called Jesus. And according as the grace is more or less, so
feeleth the soul more or less of Jesus. Yea, the first feeling of
special grace in a beginner, which is called grace of compunction
and contrition for his sins, is verily Jesus. For why? He causeth
that contrition in a soul by His presence. But Jesus is then very
grossly and rudely felt, very far from this spiritual subtlety;
for the soul can nor may do no better by reason of its
uncleanness. Nevertheless, afterward, if the soul profit and
increase in virtues and in cleanness, the same Jesus, and none
other, is seen and felt by the same soul when it is touched with
grace; but that is more spiritually, and nearer to His Divinity.
And verily that is the chiefest thing that Jesus loveth in a soul,
that it may be made spiritual and divine in sight and in love,
like to Him in grace, as He is by nature; for that shall be the
end of all lovers.

Then mayest thou be secure, that at what time thou feelest thy
soul stirred by grace, specially in that manner as I have said
before, by opening of thy spiritual eye that thou seest and
feelest Jesus, hold Him fast whilst thou may, and keep thyself in
grace, and let Him not easily go from thee. Look after none other
Jesus but that same, by feeling of that self-same grace more
divinely that it may increase in thee more and more. And be not
afraid, though Jesus whom thou feelest be not Jesus as He is in
His full Godhead, that thou therefore mayest be deceived if thou
trust to that feeling. But trust thou well, if thou be a lover of
Jesus, that thy feeling is true, and that Jesus is truly felt and
seen of thee through His grace as thou canst see Him here. And
therefore trust fully to thy feeling when it is gracious and
spiritual, and keep it tenderly, and have great dainty, not of
thyself, but of it, that thou mayest see and feel Jesus still
better and better. For grace shall ever teach thee by itself, if
thou wilt fall thereto, till thou come to the end.

But perchance thou beginnest to wonder why I say one time that
grace worketh all this, and another time that love worketh, or God
worketh?

Unto this I answer thus: That when I say that grace worketh, I
mean both love, and Jesus, and God; for all is one, and nought but
one; Jesus is love,327 Jesus is grace, Jesus is God. And because
He worketh all in us by His grace for love, as He is God,
therefore may I use which of these four words I list after my
stirring in this writing.

CHAPTER XIII

How a Soul through the opening of the spiritual Eye receiveth a
gracious Love enabling to understand the Holy Scriptures, and how
Jesus, that is hid in the Holy Scriptures, showeth Himself to His
Lovers

WHEN a soul thus feeleth Jesus in prayer, he thinketh that he
shall never feel otherwise. Nevertheless it happeneth that
sometimes grace putteth vocal prayer to silence, and stirreth the
soul to see and to feel Jesus in another manner. And that manner
is first to see Jesus in the holy Scriptures; for Jesus, who is
all truth, is hid and covered therein, folded in a soft Syndon,
under fair words, that He cannot be known nor felt but of a clean
heart. For why? Truth will not show itself to enemies, but to
friends, that love and desire it with an humble heart. For Truth
and Humility are full true sisters, fastened together in love and
charity, and there is no distance of counsel betwixt them two.
Humility presumeth upon Truth, and not at all on itself; and Truth
esteemeth well of Humility, so they accord well together. Then
forasmuch as the soul of a lover is made humble through
inspiration of grace by opening of the spiritual eye, and seeth
that it is nought of itself, but only hangeth on the mercy and the
goodness of Jesus perpetually, being borne up by the favour and
help of Him only, and truly desiring His presence, therefore seeth
it Jesus; for it seeth the truth of holy Scriptures wonderfully
showed and opened above study and industry and reason of man's
natural wit. And that may well be called the feeling and the
perceiving of Jesus. For Jesus is the fountain of Wisdom, and by
pouring down of His Wisdom into a clean soul, by little and
little, He maketh the soul wise enough for to understand all holy
Scripture; not all at once in special beholding, but through that
grace the soul receiveth a new ability and a gracious habit to
understand it, particularly when it cometh to mind. This opening
and this cleanness of understanding is made by the spiritual
presence of Jesus: for right as the Gospel saith of the two
Disciples going to Emmaus, burning in desire and speaking of our
Lord Jesus, our Lord appeared to them presently as a pilgrim, and
taught them the prophecies of Himself. And as the Gospel saith:
Aperuit illis sensum, &c. -- He opened their wits that they might
understand the Scriptures.328 Right so the spiritual presence of
Jesus openeth the wit of His lover, that it burneth in desire to
Him and bringeth to His mind by ministration of Angels, the words
and sentences of holy Writ unsought and unconsidered one after
another and expoundeth them readily, be they never so hard nor so
secret. The harder they be, and farther from man's understanding
by reason, the more delectable is the true showing of them. When
Jesus is the teacher, it is expounded and declared literally,
morally, mystically, and heavenly, if the matter will bear it. By
the literal (which is the easiest and plainest) corporal nature is
comforted. By the moral, the soul is informed concerning vices and
virtues, to be able wisely to distinguish the one from the other.
By the mystical it is enlightened to see the works of Jesus in
holy Church, readily to apply the words of holy Writ to Christ our
head, and to holy Church, which is His mystical body. The fourth,
which is heavenly, belongeth only to the working of love, and that
is, when all truth in holy Writ is applied to love. And because
this is most like to heavenly feeling, therefore I call it
heavenly.

The lover of Jesus is His friend, not for that he deserveth it,
but because Jesus of His merciful goodness maketh him His friend
by true accord. And therefore to him He showeth His secrets, as to
a true friend that pleaseth Him by love, not serveth Him through
fear in slavery. Thus He saith Himself to His Apostles: Jam vos
dixi amicos quia quaecumque audivi a Patre meo nota feci vobis. --
Now have I called you friends, for I have made known unto you all
that I have heard of the Father.329 To a clean soul whose palate
is purified from filth of fleshly love, holy Writ is lively food
and sustenance delectable, It savoureth wonderful sweetly when it
is well chewed by spiritual understanding. For why? The spirit of
life is hid therein, that quickeneth all the powers of the soul,
and filleth them full of sweetness of heavenly savour and
spiritual delight. But verily he must have white teeth, and sharp,
and well picked, that can bite of this spiritual bread; for
fleshly lovers and heretics may not touch the inward flour of it.
Their teeth are bloody, and full of filth, therefore must they be
fasting from feeling of this bread. By teeth I understand the
inward senses of the soul, which in fleshly lovers and heretics
are bloody, full of sin and worldly vanities. They would, but they
cannot come through curiosity to the truth in knowing of holy
Writ; for their senses are corrupted by original and actual sin,
and are not yet healed through grace. And therefore they do but
gnaw upon the outward bark, speak they never so much thereof. The
inner savour within they taste not of. They be not humble, they be
not pure for to see it. They be not friends to Jesus, and
therefore He showeth them not His counsel. The mystery of holy
Writ is closed under a key, and sealed with a signet of Jesus'
finger, which is the Holy Ghost, and therefore without His love
and His leave may none come in. He alone hath the key of skill330
in His keeping, as holy Writ saith,331 and He Himself is the key:
and He letteth in whom He will by inspiration of His grace, and
breaketh not the seal.

And this doth Jesus to His lovers, but not to all alike, but to
them that are specially inspired for to seek Truth in holy Writ,
with great devotion in praying, and with much business in studying
going before. These may come to the finding of it, when our Lord
will be pleased to show it. See now, then, how grace openeth the
spiritual eye, and Heareth the senses of the soul wonderfully
above the frailty of corrupt nature. It giveth the soul a new
ability whether it will read holy Writ, or hear it, or meditate in
it, for to understand truly and savourly the truth of it in the
manner aforesaid; and also for to turn readily all reasons and
words that are literally spoken in spiritual understanding. And
that is no great wonder, for the same Spirit that made the
Scriptures, expoundeth it and declareth it to a clean soul for its
comfort -- namely, the Holy Ghost.

And this grace may be, and is, as well in laymen as in the
learned, as to the substance and true feeling of the verity and
spiritual savour of it in general, though they see not so many
reasons in special; for that needeth not. And when the soul is
thus enabled, and enlightened through grace, then he chooseth to
be alone sometimes, out of the letting and meddling with all
creatures, that he may freely exercise his instrument, which I
call his reason of beholding of verity which is contained in holy
Scriptures. And then will there fall into his mind words and
reasons and senses enough to busy him, and that full orderly and
full seriously. And what comfort and spiritual delight, what
savour and sweetness a soul can then feel in that spiritual
exercise through divers illuminations, inward perceivings, secret
knowings and sudden touchings of the Holy Ghost, a soul can only
know by experience, and not otherwise. And I hope that he shall
not err, if so be his teeth, that is his inward senses, be kept
white and clean from spiritual pride, and from curiosity of his
natural wit. I believe David felt full great delight in this
manner of working, when he said thus: Quam dulci faucibus meis
eloquia Tua, &c. -- How sweet are Thy words unto my taste! sweeter
than honey to my mouth.332 That is, Lord Jesus, Thy holy words
endited in holy Writ, brought to my mind by grace, are sweeter to
my taste, that is the affections of my soul, than honey is to my
mouth. Verily this is a fair work without painful travail for to
see Jesus thus. This is one manner of sight of Jesus, as I said
before; not as He is, but clothed under the likeness of works and
of words, per speculum, in aenigmate. -- In a glass, and by a
likeness,333 as the Apostle saith. Jesus is endless might, wisdom
and goodness, righteousness, truth, holiness and mercy. And what
this Jesus is in Himself can no soul see nor hear; but by the
effects of His working may be seen through the light of grace. As
thus, His might is seen by making of all creatures of nothing; His
wisdom in orderly disposing of them; His goodness in saving of
them; His mercy in forgiveness of sins; His holiness in gifts of
grace; His righteousness in severely punishing of sin; His
gentleness in true rewarding of good works. And all this is
expressed in holy Writ, and this a soul seeth there with all other
attributes that pertain thereto. And be thou well assured, that
such gracious knowings in holy Writ, or in other writings, which
are made by the assistance of God's grace, are nought else but
sweet letters sent and made betwixt a loving soul and Jesus the
beloved. Or else, that I may speak trulier, betwixt Jesus the true
lover and the souls beloved of Him. He hath full great tenderness
of love to all his chosen children, that are here closed in clay
of this bodily life. And therefore, though He be absent from them,
high, hid above in the bosom of the Father, filled with the
delights of the Blessed Godhead, yet notwithstanding He thinketh
upon them, and visiteth them full oft through His gracious
spiritual presence, and comforteth them by His letters of holy
Writ, and driveth out of their hearts heaviness and wearisomeness,
doubts and fears, and maketh them truly glad and merry in Him,
believing in all His promises, and humbly continuing fulfilling
His will.

St Paul saith thus: Quoecumque scripta sunt, &c. -- Whatsoever
things are written, are written for our instruction, that we might
have hope through the comfort of the Scriptures. And this is
another work of Contemplation, to see Jesus in the Scriptures
after the opening of the spiritual eye. The cleaner the sight is
in beholding, the more comforted is the affection in tasting. A
full little savour felt in a clean soul of holy Writ in this
manner abovesaid, should make the soul set little price by knowing
of all the seven liberal arts, or of all the world, or all worldly
wisdom; for the end of this knowing is the salvation of a man's
soul in everlasting life; and the end of that other knowledge, as
to himself, is but vanity and a fading delight, unless by grace it
be turned to this end.

CHAPTER XIV

Of the secret Voice of Jesus sounding in a Soul, and how it may be
known. And how all the gracious Illuminations made in a Soul be
called the Speakings of Jesus

LO, these are fair new feelings in a clean soul; and if a soul
were filled with such, it might be said, and that truly, that it
were reformed somewhat in feeling, but not yet fully; for why? Yet
Jesus showeth more, and leadeth the soul inward, and beginneth to
speak more familiarly and more lovely to a soul, and maketh it
more ready to follow the stirrings of grace. For the Prophet
saith: Quocumque ibat spiritus, illuc gradiebantur et rotae
sequentes eum. -- Whithersoever the spirit went, thither went the
wheels following him.334 By wheels are understood the true lovers
of Jesus, for they are round in virtue, without angle of
frowardness; and lightly whirling through readiness of will after
the stirrings of grace; for according as grace stirreth and
teacheth, so they follow and work, as the Prophet saith.

But first, they have a full secure experience, and a true knowing
of the voice of grace, ere they do so; that they be not deceived
by their own feigning, or by the mid-day fiend. Our Lord Jesus
saith thus of His lovers: Oves meae vocem meam audiunt, &c. -- My
sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they know Me.335 The
privy voice of Jesus is full true, and it maketh a soul true;
there is no feigning in it, nor on fancy, nor pride, nor
hyprocrisy; but gentleness, humility, peace, love and charity. And
it is full of life, love and grace. And therefore when it soundeth
in a soul, it is of so great power sometimes, that the soul
suddenly layeth aside all that was in hand, as praying, speaking,
reading or thinking; in the manner abovesaid, and all manner of
bodily work, and listeneth thereto fully, hearing and perceiving
in rest and in love the sweet sound of this spiritual voice, as it
were ravished from the mind of all earthly things, and then in
this quiet, Jesus sometimes showeth Himself as an awful336 master,
and sometimes as a reverend Father, and sometimes as a lovely
Spouse. And it keepeth a soul in a wonderful reverence, and in a
lovely beholding of Him, that the soul liketh well then, and never
so well as then; for it feeleth so great security, and so great
rest in Jesus, and so much savour of His goodness, that it would
ever be so, and never do other work. It thinketh that it toucheth
Jesus, and through virtue of that unspeakable touching, it is made
whole and stable in itself, reverently beholding Jesus only, as if
there were nothing but Jesus, one thing, and himself another,
borne up only by the savour and the wonderful goodness of Him;
that is that thing which he feeleth and seeth. And this feeling is
ofttimes without special beholding of holy Writ, and with but few
words formed in the mind; only there falls in among sweet words,
according to the feeling either of loving, or worshipping, or
admiring, or otherwise sounding, as the heart liketh. The soul is
very much separated from love or liking of the world, through
virtue of this gracious feeling, and also very much from minding
of the world in that time. It taketh no heed thereof, for it hath
no time thereto. But then sometimes anon, together with this,
falleth into a soul divers illuminations through grace, which I
call the speakings of Jesus, and the sight of spiritual things;
for be thou assured, that all the business that Jesus maketh about
a soul, is for to make it a true perfect spouse to Him in the
height and the fulness of love, and that cannot be done suddenly.
Therefore Jesus, who is love, and of all lovers the wisest,
proveth by many ways, and by many wonderful means, ere this can
come about. And therefore that it may come to the effect of true
espousing, He hath such gracious speakings of a wooer to a chosen
soul. He sheweth His privy jewels; many things He giveth, and more
He promiseth; and showeth courteous dalliance. He often visiteth
her with much grace and spiritual comfort, as I have said before;
but how He doth this in particular, I cannot fully tell thee, for
it needeth not. Nevertheless somewhat shall I say, according as
grace enableth me.

The drawing of a soul fully to perfect love, is, first by the
showing of spiritual things to a clean soul, when the spiritual
eye is opened; not that a soul should rest therein, and make an
end there, but should by that search Him and love Him who is
highest of all, without any beholding of any other thing than He.

But thou wilt ask, what are these spiritual things, because I
speak so oft of spiritual things?

To this I say that spiritual things may be said all the truth of
holy Scripture. And therefore a soul that through light of grace
can see the truth of Scripture, seeth spiritual things, as I have
said before.

CHAPTER XV

SECTION I

How through gracious Opening of the Spiritual Eye a Soul is made
Wise, humbly and truly to see the Diversities of Degrees in Holy
Church, as Militant, and for to see the nature of Angels; and
first of the Reprobate

NEVERTHELESS, other spiritual things there be also, which through
light of grace are showed to the soul, and are these: the nature
of all reasonable souls, and the gracious workings of our Lord
Jesus in them; the nature of angels, both good and bad, and their
workings, and the knowledge of the Blessed Trinity, according as
grace teacheth. Holy Writ saith of the Spouse thus in the
Canticles: Surgam et circuibo civitatem, &c. -- I will arise, and
go about the city, and will seek Him whom my soul loveth.337 That
is, I will rise into highness of thought, and go about the city.
By this city is understood the University of all creatures,
corporal and spiritual, ordered and ruled under God by laws of
nature, of reason and of grace. I go about this city when I behold
the natures and causes of bodily creatures, the gifts of grace,
and the blisses of spiritual creatures. And in all these I seek
Him whom my soul loveth. It is pleasant looking with the inner eye
on Jesus in bodily creatures, to see His power, His wisdom and His
goodness in ordering of their natures; but it is much more
beautiful to look on Jesus in spiritual creatures: First in
reasonable souls, both elect and reprobate, to see the merciful
calling of them to election, how He turneth them from sin by the
light of His grace, how He helpeth them, teacheth them, chasteneth
them, comforteth them; He sanctifieth, cleanseth and feedeth them;
how He maketh them burning in love and in light through plenty of
His grace. And thus doth He, not to one soul only, but to all His
chosen according to the measure of His grace.

Also concerning the reprobate, he seeth how justly he forsaketh
them, and leaveth them in their sins, and doth them no wrong. How
He rewardeth them in this world, suffering them to have the
fulfilling of their own will, and after to punish them endlessly.
Lo, this is a little beholding of holy Church, whilst it is
militant in this life, by seeing how black and how foul it seemeth
in souls that are reprobate; and how fair and how lovely it is in
chosen souls.

And all this spiritual sight is nought else but the sight of
Jesus, not in Himself but in His merciful secret works, and in His
righteous judgements every day showed, remembered and renewed to
reasonable souls. Moreover, to see with the spiritual eye the
pains of the reprobate and the joy and bliss of chosen souls is
full comfortable. For truth cannot be seen in a clean soul without
great delight and wonderful content of blessed burning love.

Also the sight of the nature of Angels, first of the damned, then
of the blessed; as it is a full pleasant contemplation concerning
the devil in a clean soul. When grace bringeth the fiend into the
sight of the soul, as a clumsy caitiff bound by the power of Jesus
that he cannot hurt; then the soul beholdeth him not bodily, but
spiritually, seeing his nature and his malice, and turneth him
upside down and spoileth him and rendeth him all to nought,
scorneth him and despiseth him, and setteth nought by his malice.
Thus biddeth holy Writ, when it saith thus: Verte impium, et not
erit. -- Turn the wicked, that is, the fiend, upside down, and he
shall be as nought.338 Much wonder hath the soul that the fiend
hath so much malice and so little might. There is no creature so
weak as he is; and therefore it is great cowardice that men fear
him so much. He can do nothing without leave of our Lord Jesus,
not so much as enter into a swine, as the Gospel saith339, much
less can he do then to annoy any man.

And therefore if our Lord Jesus give him leave to tempt us, it is
full worthily and mercifully done, that he doth so; and therefore
welcome be our Lord Jesus by Himself, and by all His messengers.
The soul feareth no more the blustering of the fiend than the
stirring of a mouse. Wondrous wroth is the fiend when we say nay
to his temptations, but his mouth is stopped with his own malice.
His hands are bound like a thieve's, worthy to be judged and
hanged in hell. And then the soul accuseth him, and doth justly
condemn him according to his deserts. Wonder not at this saying,
for St Paul meant the same, when he saith thus: Fratres, nescitis,
&c. -- Brethren, know ye not that we shall judge the angels?340
namely, those that are wicked spirits through malice that were
made good angels by nature. As who should say, yes; this judging
is figured before the day of judgement in Contemplative souls, for
they feel a little tasting in likeness of all that shall be done
afterwards of our Lord Jesus openly in truth. Shamed and
troubled341 is the fiend greatly in himself, when he is thus used
by a clean soul. He would fain fly away, but he cannot, for the
power of the Highest holdeth him still, and that grieveth him more
than all the fire of hell. Then falleth the soul wonderfully
humble under Jesus with hearty praises, for that He so mightily
saveth a simple soul from all the malice of so cruel an enemy by
His great mercy.

SECTION II

How by the same light of Grace the Nature of the blessed Angels is
seen. And how Jesus is God and Man above all Creatures, according
to that which the Soul may see of Him here

AND then after this by the selfsame light may the soul spiritually
see the beauty of the Angels, the worthiness of their nature, the
subtlety of their substance, their confirming in grace, their
fulness in endless bliss, the diversity of their orders; the
distinctions of persons, how they all live in light of endless
truth; and how they burn all in love of the Holy Ghost, according
to the worthiness of their orders; how they see and love and
praise Jesus in blessed rest without ceasing. There is no sight of
a body, nor any figure in imagination, in this manner of working,
but all spiritual, and of spiritual creatures.

Then beginneth the soul to have great acquaintance and great
fellowship with the blessed spirits. They are full tender and full
busy about such a soul to help it, they are masters to teach it.
And often by their spiritual presence and touching of their light
drive out fancies from the soul. They enlighten the soul
graciously; they comfort the soul with sweet words suddenly
sounded in a clean heart, and if any disease fall spiritually,
they serve the soul and minister to it all that it needeth. Thus
St Paul said of them: Know ye not that they are all ministering
spirits, sent for them who shall be heirs of salvation?342 As if
he had said thus: Know ye that all this spiritual working of words
and of reasons, brought to the mind, and such fair likeness are
made by the ministry of Angels, when the light of grace abundantly
shineth in a clean soul. It cannot be told by tongue the feelings,
the enlightenings, the graces and the comforts in special that
clean souls perceive by the favourable fellowship of blessed
Angels. The soul is so well pleased with beholding what they do
that it would willingly attend to nothing else.

But then with the help of Angels the soul yet seeth more; for
knowing in a clean soul riseth higher above all this, and that is
to behold the blessed nature of Jesus. First of His glorious
humanity, how it is worthily exalted above the nature of Angels,
and afterwards of His blessed Divinity, for by knowing of
creatures is known the Creator; and then beginneth the soul to
perceive a little of the mysteries of the Blessed Trinity. And
this it may do well enough, for the light of grace going before,
she cannot err as long as she holdeth her in that light. Then is
opened really to the eye of the soul the unity in substance, and
distinction of persons in the Blessed Trinity, as it may be seen
in this life, and much other truth of the Blessed Trinity
pertinent to this matter; the which is openly declared and shown
by writings of holy doctors of holy Church. And be you assured
that one and the same verity concerning the Blessed Trinity that
these holy doctors, inspired through grace, writ in their books
for the strengthening of our truth, a clean soul may see in
knowing through the same light of grace. I will not express too
much of this matter here in particular, for it needeth not.

Wondrous great love feedeth the soul with heavenly delight in
feeling of this truth, when it is wrought through special grace;
for love and light go both together in a clean soul. There is no
love that riseth out of knowing, and from special beholding that
can sooner touch our Lord than this can. For why? This knowing of
Jesus, God and Man, is alone in itself the worthiest and the
highest, if it be specially shown by the light of grace. And
therefore is the fire of flaming love hereof more burning than it
is of any creature, corporal or incorporal. And all these gracious
knowings of the university of all creatures felt in a soul in
manner abovesaid, and of our Lord Jesus, the maker and keeper of
all this fair university, I call fair words, and sweet speakings
of our Lord Jesus to a soul, which He means to make His true
Spouse. He showeth His mysteries, proffereth rich gifts out of His
treasury, and arrayeth the soul with them full beautifully. She
need not thenceforward be ashamed of the company of her fellows,
to appear before the face of Jesus her Spouse. All this lovely
dalliance of private conference betwixt Jesus and a soul may be
called a hidden word; of the which Scripture saith thus: Porro ad
me dictum est verbum absconditum, &c. -- Moreover to me there was
spoken a secret word, and the veins of His whispering mine ear
hath perceived.343 The inspiration of Jesus is a hidden word, for
it is privily hid from all lovers of the world, and shown to His
lovers; through which a clean soul perceiveth readily the veins of
His whispering, that is the special showings of His truth; for
every gracious knowing of truth felt with inward savour and
spiritual delight is a privy whispering of Jesus in the ear of a
clean soul. He must have much cleanness and humility and all other
virtues, and must be half deaf to the noise of worldly janglings,
that will wisely perceive those sweet spiritual whisperings, that
is the voice of Jesus. Of the which David saith thus: Vox Domini
praeparantis cervos, &c. -- The voice of the Lord prepareth harts,
and shall discover thick woods.344 That is, the inspiration of
Jesus maketh souls light as deer, that start from the ground over
bushes and briars of all worldly vanities; and He showeth to them
the thickets, that is, His mysteries, which cannot be perceived
but by a sharp eye. These beholdings, solidly grounded in grace
and humility, make a soul wise and burning in desire to the face
of Jesus. These are the spiritual things that I spake of before,
and they be called new gracious feelings; and I do but touch them
a little for direction of a soul; for a soul that is pure, stirred
up by grace to use this working, may see more of such spiritual
matter in an hour than can be writ in a great book.

Thus finisheth this present book, which expoundeth many notable
doctrines in Contemplation, which to me seemeth right expedient to
those that set their felicity in busying themselves specially for
their souls' health.

The following verses form the colophon to Wynkyn de Worde's
edition of the "Scale," and are reprinted from the 1659 edition.

Infinite laud with thankings manifold,
I yield to God, me succouring with His grace;
This Book to finish, which as ye behold,
Scale of Perfection's called in every place:
Whereof th' Author Walter Hilton was,
And Wynkin de Word this hath set in print;
In William Caxton's house, so fell the case,
God rest his soul, in joy there may it stint.
This heavenly Book more precious than gold
Was lately directed with great humility,
For godly pleasure thereon to behold,
Unto the right noble Margaret as ye see,
The King's Mother of excellent bounty,
Harry the seventh, that Jesus him preserve,
This mighty Princess hath commanded me
T'imprint this Book, her grace for to deserve.
ANOTHER TREATISE OF THE SAME AUTHOR
Written to a devout man of secular Estate
Teaching him how to lead a spiritual life therein

TREATISE WRITTEN TO A DEVOUT MAN

CHAPTER I

That he who intends to become a Spiritual Man must first use much
Bodily Exercise in Penance, and in Destroying of sin

DEAR BROTHER IN CHRIST, -- There be in the holy Church two kinds
of life, by the which Christian souls do serve and please God, and
procure their own salvation. The one is corporal, the other
spiritual.

Corporal working appertaineth principally to the men and women of
the world, who for the nature of their estate do lawfully use
worldly goods, and intermeddle and deal with worldly businesses
and affairs. This life also belongeth to all young beginners in
spirituality who be but newly converted from sensual and worldly
sins to the service of God; and this life is to dispose and enable
such persons for spiritual working, by taming the body by corporal
works and exercises, and thereby bringing it into obedience and
subjection to the spirit, whereby it may become supple and ready,
and not much contrarious to the spirit in her spiritual
exercisings; for as St Paul saith, that woman was made for man,
and not man for woman. Even so corporal working was ordained for
spiritual, and not spiritual working for corporal. Corporal
working is to go before, and spiritual working cometh after, as
the same St Paul saith in these words: That is not first which is
spiritual, but that which is sensible (or corporal), afterwards
cometh that which is spiritual. And the reason why it should be so
is this, that we are born in sin and in corruption of the flesh,
by the which we are in souls so blinded and so overlaid that we
neither have the spiritual sight or knowing of God by light of
understanding, nor the spiritual tasting or feeling of Him by a
clean desire of loving; and therefore we cannot suddenly start out
of the dark night of this fleshly corruption into the spiritual
light; for we are not as yet able to endure such spiritual light,
by reason of the sickness of our souls, any more than we can with
our bodily eyes, when they are sore, behold and look upon the
light of the sun; and for that cause we must expect and work by
degrees and process of time. First, by corporal works diligently,
till we be discharged, or much lightened, or eased from this heavy
burden of sin and sensuality, that hindereth us from spiritual
working; and till our souls be somewhat cleansed from great
outward sins, and enabled for spiritual workings.

By the corporal working that I speak of, thou must understand that
I mean all manner of good works or deeds that thy soul doth by the
senses or the members of thy body, either upon or towards thyself,
as in fasting, watching, or in restraining thy fleshly or sensual
desires, by penance-doing, or other acts of mortification. Or
upon, or towards thy Christian brother, in performance of the
works of mercy, spiritual or corporal. Or to, or towards God
Himself, by suffering (for the love of Him and His justice) all
manner of bodily pains and afflictions that shall occur for thee
to undergo, either as immediately from His own hands, or by the
means and from the hands of other creatures of His. All these kind
of works done in faith and out of charity (without which they are
of no worth) do please God. Therefore whoso desireth to become a
spiritual man, it will be securest and profitable for him that he
be first, for a long time, well exercised in these corporal
workings, for these corporal deeds are practices and tokens of
moral virtues, without which a soul is not able to work
spiritually. Break down first pride within thee by bodily
sufferings and bearings, and also by thinking in thy mind of
something that will help to humble thee; and, moreover, by
eschewing and avoiding all ostentations, boastings, or praising of
thyself, either privately by thyself in thy mind, or by thy words
or external deeds, or carriage towards, or with others; by this
means casting away and mortifying within thee all vainglory and
complacence in thyself for any talent, gift, or thing corporal or
spiritual that God hath bestowed on thee. Also mortify and destroy
within thee, so soon as thou art able, all envy and anger towards
thy Christian brethren; whether they be rich or poor, good or bad,
hate them not, nor disdain them, nor willingly offend them by
words or by deeds. Likewise destroy and mortify in thee all
coveting of worldly goods, and see that neither for the getting,
or holding, nor saving of them, thou do not offend thy conscience,
nor break verity with God, or thy Christian brother, for the love
of any earthly thing; but what thou gettest, or hast, keep it
without inordinate love or affection to it, and spend it as
reasonable occasions shall require, for the honour of God, and the
succour of thy Christian brother. Mortify also, and destroy as
much as thou canst, all yielding to bodily sloth, and unnecessary
bodily ease, and the sensual vices of gluttony and luxury, with
the inordinations that rise out of them. And after that thou hast
been well exercised and tried in all such kind of corporal works,
thou mayest then by the grace of God, ordain thee and apply thee
to spiritual working.

The grace and goodness of our Lord Jesus Christ, that He hath
showed to thee, in withdrawing of thine heart from the love and
liking of worldly vanity, and from the use of fleshly and sensual
sins, and in turning of thy will entirely to His service, bringeth
into mine heart much matter to love Him in His mercy; and also it
greatly moveth and urgeth me to strengthen thee in thy good
purpose, and in the work which thou hast begun between thee and
God, so that it may be brought to a good end. And so far as may be
in my power to help thee in it, my best endeavours in it I shall
most willingly afford thee, first and principally for the service
and honour of God, and next in requital of thy tender affection of
love thou bearest to me, though I be a wretch, and unworthy of thy
love or favour. I know well the desire of thy heart, as how that
thou greatly covetest to serve our Lord both in soul and body,
fully and wholly, without intermeddling or troubling thyself in
worldly businesses, that so thou mayest, by the grace of God,
attain to more knowledge, and spiritual feeling of God, and of
spiritual things. Such desire of thine is (as I hope) good, and
from God, for it is set upon Him in charity spiritually.
Nevertheless, as in regard of external matters and workings in
them, such desire of thine is to be moderated and ruled with
discretion, according to the nature and quality of thy estate,
which thou art to regard in thy spiritual intentions; for charity
unruled, that is, not rightly ordered, turneth sometimes into a
fault or vice. And therefore it is said of our Lord by a holy soul
in the holy Scripture: He hath ordered charity in me; 345 that is
to say, our Lord giveth to me charity, hath set it in order and
good rule within me, whereby it might not err in its exercise, nor
be lost through my indiscreet doings. Even so the said desire and
charity which our Lord hath wrought in thee, out of His goodness
and mercy, must be so ruled and moderated, that in the exercises
of it, it do regard the nature of thy estate and condition of
life, and the manner of living, which in former time thou hast
held, and the measure and quantity of virtues that now are in
thee. Thou must not altogether follow thy said desire in giving
over or neglecting those businesses and cares of the world that
are necessary, and do belong to thee, either for thee upholding of
thy own person in his degree, or in the ruling or ordering of
other persons or things that pertain to thy charge, and give thee
wholly to retiredness, spiritual devotions and holy meditations,
as if thou wert a Friar or Monk, or another man that were not
bound (as thou art) to the world by children or servants; for it
is not for thee to do so, and if thou dost, then keepest thou not
the order of charity. Also if thou wouldst altogether leave and
forbear all spiritual exercises (especially now after the grace
and calling that God hath given thee for them) and give thyself
wholly to the businesses of the world, in fulfilling of the works
of the active life, as fully as do other men, that never felt such
devotions nor had such grace or calling as thou hast, thou dost
then leave the order of charity; for thy state requireth of thee
to attend to each of them in divers times. Thou shalt mingle the
works of active life with the spiritual works of the contemplative
life, and then thou dost well; for thou shalt sometimes be busy,
with Martha, for to order and govern thine household, thy
children, thy servants, thy neighbours and thy tenants. If they do
well, comfort and help them therein; if they do amiss, then tell
and teach them for their amendment, and chastise them as there
shall be cause. Thou shalt also wisely look after and know thy
things and thy worldly goods, as that they be well and duly used
or preserved by thy servants, well ordered and reasonably spent,
whereby thou mayest the more plenteously, out of thy temporal
means, fulfil the deeds of mercy and charity towards thy Christian
brethren. Also thou shalt sometimes, with Mary, leave or lay aside
the businesses of the world, and shalt sit down at the feet of our
Lord with humility, in prayers and holy thoughts, and in
Contemplation of Him, according to the grace that He shall give
thee for it, and so thou shalt go from that one to that other,
profitably and fruitfully, and fulfil them both; and so doing thou
observest well the order of charity.

CHAPTER II

To what kind of Men the Active Life pertaineth

BUT that thou mayest the less wonder at that that I have said, and
that thou mayest better understand the reason thereof, therefore I
shall declare the matter a little more fully to thee. Thou must
understand that God is served by three kinds of life, as either by
an active life, or by a contemplative, or by a third, that is
mixed of them both, and therefore is commonly called a mixed life.
The active life belongeth to worldly men and women that are gross
and ignorant, as to the understanding or knowledge of spiritual
exercises or ways, for they neither feel nor taste devotion by
fervour of love as other men do, nor can they well conceive what
it is or how it may be come by; and nevertheless, they have in
them the fear of God and of the pains of Hell, and therefore they
eschew and forbear sin, and have a desire for to please God, and
to attain to Heaven, and a good will they bear to their Christian
brethren. Unto these men it is needful and speedful to use the
works of the active life as diligently as they can in the help of
themselves and of their Christian brethren, for more they cannot
do.

CHAPTER III

To whom the Contemplative Life appertaineth

THE Contemplative life appertaineth only to such men and women as
for the love of God have forsaken all notorious sins, both of the
flesh and of the world, and have given over all intermeddling with
the affairs and businesses of the world, or with worldly goods, as
also all care and charge over others, and all superiority or
offices that concern the government of others (if ever they had
any such) and make themselves poor and, as it were, naked from all
the things of this life save for what their corporal nature doth
merely need and of necessity require. Unto these men and women it
appertaineth diligently and seriously to employ themselves in
internal exercises for to get thereby (through the grace of our
Lord) cleanness in heart and peace in conscience by destroying of
sin and gaining of virtue, and so to come to Contemplation; since
such cleanness (necessary for Contemplation) cannot be had without
much exercise of body and continual travail or industry in spirit,
by devout prayers, fervent desires and spiritual meditation.

CHAPTER IV

To whom appertained the Mixed Life

THE third kind of life that is called the mixed life belongeth to
Prelates of holy Church and to pastors and curates who have charge
and superiority over other men or women, for to teach and govern
them, both as to their bodies and as to their souls, and
principally to animate and guide them in the performance of the
deeds of mercy both corporal and spiritual towards their Christian
brethren. Unto these men of the mixed life it appertaineth
sometimes to use the works of mercy in active life, in help and
sustenance of themselves and of their subjects and of others also,
and sometimes for to leave all manner of external businesses and
to give themselves to contemplative exercises, as to prayer and
meditations, reading of holy Scriptures or other good books or to
some other spiritual exercises, according to what they shall feel
themselves disposed. Also, this mixed life appertaineth to some
temporal men, who are owners of much land and goods and have
withal some dominion or mastership over other men, for to govern
and sustain them, as a father hath over his children, and a master
over his servants, and a lord over his tenants; the which men have
received also of our Lord's gift, the grace of Devotion, and in
some measure a taste and practice of spiritual exercise. Unto
these men, I say, belongeth the foresaid mixed life, that is both
active and contemplative; for if these men having (as they have)
such external charge and cares lying on them, out of some
obligation or necessity, would altogether leave or neglect such
charge and businesses of the world pertaining to them, and give
themselves wholly to the exercises of contemplative life, they
would not do well in so doing, for they observe not the order of
charity; for charity (as thou well knowest) consisteth in the love
of God and of thy Christian brethren. And therefore he that hath
charity in him, will not by occasion of his devotions, used
immoderately towards God, omit that which he ought to do towards
his Christian brother, but will serve both God and them for God,
at divers times, as now the one and then the other; for he that
for the loving of God in Contemplation leaveth the loving of his
Christian brethren, and doth not perform towards them that which
he ought, and is bound unto, he fulfilleth not the rule and
obligation of charity. Likewise on the contrary side whoso hath so
great a regard to the works of the active life and to the business
of the world that for the love of his Christian brethren, and the
serving of them, he leaveth or neglecteth all spiritual exercises,
God having given him a call thereunto, he fulfilleth not charity,
and so saith St Gregory. For though our Saviour Christ, for to
stir up some to use the mixed life, took upon Himself the person
of such manner of men, i.e., both of Prelates and of such other as
are of the said mixed estate, and gave them example by His own
working that they should upon occasion use the exercises of the
mixed life, as He Himself did at those times that He spoke with
men and meddled with them, showing and exercising His deeds of
mercy towards them, taught the ignorant by His preaching, visited
the sick and healed them of their diseases, fed the hungry and
comforted the sorrowful; nevertheless, at other times He left the
conversation of worldly men, and even of His own disciples, and
went into the desert upon the hills, and continued there all night
all alone in prayers, as the Gospel testifieth to us. And this
mixed life did our Lord in Himself exercise, and show in the same
manner, for an example to all other men that have taken on them
the state or condition that requireth the exercises of the said
mixed life, that is to say, that they should sometimes apply
themselves to the external affairs and businesses belonging to
their charge, and to the curing of such their Christian brethren
as pertain to them to look to, instruct or provide for; and this
to do according to reason and discretion and their need; and at
another time to give themselves to devotion and to the exercises
of a Contemplative life, being principally (as before I have said)
reading and praying.

CHAPTER V

How holy Bishops held and used the said Mixed Life

THE said mixed life did holy Bishops hold and lead, who had charge
over men's souls and had the ministration and disposal of temporal
goods; for those holy men did not wholly forsake the
administration looking to, and the disposal of worldly goods, and
give themselves altogether, or unreasonably to Contemplation,
notwithstanding the grace and gift they had for Contemplation; but
very often left their own rest in Contemplation (which for their
parts they had much rather have continued in still) for the love
and service of their Christian brethren, and were contented to
intermeddle with worldly businesses, for succouring and helping of
those that were under their charge; and surely such doing of
theirs was true charity. For justly and discreetly did they divide
the time of their life into two parts, whereof the one they
bestowed in the lower part of love and charity, that is to say, in
the works of the active life (for they were bound thereto by
taking on them their Prelacy): and another part of their time they
spent in the higher part of love and charity, and that was in the
contemplation of God, and of spiritual things by prayers and holy
recollections; and so they had and held charity to God and their
Christian brethren, both interiorly in affection of soul, and also
exteriorly by doing and performing good corporal or external
works. Other men that were only contemplatives, and were free from
all cares and Prelacies, they also had charity towards God and
their Christian brethren, but it was only interiorly in the
affection of their soul, and not used outwardly in corporal deeds;
and it may be it was so increased inwardly through their
contemplations, that they needed not to intermeddle with external
things for the bettering their charity, nor did it belong to their
state of life to seek after such external workings, nor to
intermeddle therewith, there being no necessity nor obligation for
it on them; and so their internal charity sufficed for them. But
those, whom before I mentioned, that were in Prelacy, and others
also that were holy secular men, had perfect charity, both
interiorly in their affection and did also exercise the same
exteriorly in bodily working or deeds, and such doing is properly
the mixed life which I have spoken of, consisting of the active
and contemplative both together. And surely for such men that are
in spiritual superiority, or have charge of the souls of others,
as Prelates, Pastors and Curates have, or that are in temporal
authority in the government of others, as worldly Lords and
Masters are, I hold this mixed life best, and most expedient or
necessary for them, so long as they remain in the said superiority
and charge over others. But as for others that are free, and not
obliged to any ministration or superiority, temporal or spiritual,
I judge that the contemplative life alone by itself (if they have
grace and calling to it) were, in truth, the best, the most
expedient, most meritorious, most fair and most worthy for them to
use, and not willingly to leave it for any outward working of the
active life, unless it were in case of great need, as for the
helping or comforting of some other men, either in their bodies or
in their souls; and need requiring it, he to go about the doing of
it, either when the party, or some other for him, requesteth, and
craveth at his hands the doing of it; or that himself sees a mere
necessity in the case, or else (being religious) when he is bidden
by his superior to undertake or intermeddle with the work.

CHAPTER VI

That kind of Life was most fitting for him for whom this Treatise
was made

BY that which I have said thou mayest partly understand the
differences between one and another of the aforesaid three kinds
of lives; and thou mayest by what I have said also judge which of
them best fitteth thee, since that our Lord hath ordained and set
thee in a state of superiority (of such nature as it is) and
authority over others, and hath lent thee some store of worldly
goods and lands, by the which thou mayest not only maintain and
sustain thyself, but also all those other special persons that are
under thy authority and government, and mightest withal govern
them according to thy best knowledge and ability; and therewith
also thou hast, through the goodness of our Lord, received from
Him the grace for to know thyself, and a spiritual desire and
taste of His love. I am of the mind that the life which I have
termed to be mixed is best and most befitting thee; and thou
accordingly to divide and dispose of thy time wisely and to the
satisfaction of the foresaid rule of charity. For know thou well
that if thou leave the necessary business or the active life
belonging to thee, and be careless, and take no heed of thy
worldly goods as how they be kept or spent, nor lookest after
those that pertain to thy charge to see they do well, nor wilt
afford thy help upon the necessity of thy Christian brother by
reason of thy love and desire thou hast to apply thyself only to
solitude and spiritual exercises, imagining that by so doing thou
art excused and freed from thy foresaid obligations. If, I say,
thou do so, thou dost not wisely nor profitably for thy soul; for
what are thy works or exercises worth (be they spiritual or
corporal) unless they be done according to justice and reason, to
the honour of God and agreeable to His will? surely they are even
nothing worth. Therefore if thou leave or neglect that thing which
thou art bound unto by the law of charity, justice or other
obligation, and wilt entirely give thee to another thing,
voluntarily taken on thee, under pretense of better pleasing and
serving of God, in a thing which thou art not bound unto, in so
doing thou dost no discreet or acceptable service to Him. In so
doing thou art careful to do honour and worship to His head and to
His face, and to deck and adorn them fairly and curiously, but
thou neglectest and leavest His body, with the feet, ragged and
rent, and takest no care nor heed of them, nor dost thou anything
honour Him; and it is but a shame and an indignity and no kind of
honour for a man to be curiously dressed and decked about his head
with pearls and precious stones, and therewith to have all his
body naked and bare, as it were a beggar. Even so spiritually, it
is no honour to God for one to crown His head and leave His body
bare; for thou must understand that our Lord Jesus Christ, as a
man, is the head of His spiritual body, which is the holy Church,
the members or limbs of His body are all Christian men, some are
arms, some are feet, and some are other members, according to the
qualities, condition or estates they are of in the holy Church.

And now if thou be diligent with all thy skill and ability for to
deck and adorn His head, that is, for to honour Him with the
remembrance of His passion and of His other works done in His
humanity, with devotion, love and thanks to Him for the same, and
forgettest or neglectest His feet (which are thy children, thy
servants, thy tenants and all thy Christian brethren) and lettest
them to decay or perish for want of looking to, or to want
clothing sufficient, or other necessaries, or otherwise not looked
unto and provided for as they ought to be, then dost thou not
please Him, nor doest Him any honour; thou seemest to kiss His
mouth by devotion and spiritual prayer, but thou treadest upon His
feet, and defilest them, inasmuch as thou wilt not tend to them
(through thy negligence) that belong to thy charge and care. This
is my opinion and advice to thee in this point; nevertheless if
thou be of the mind that I say not aright in this matter, for that
thou thinkest it were a fairer and more pleasing office to God for
to do honour to His head, as to be all day devoutly thinking of
His passion, and producing acts of inward affection upon it, than
for to go home to other works that are more external, and make
clean His feet, as for to employ thyself both in words and deeds
about the helping or benefiting of thy Christian brethren, in so
thinking thou thinkest amiss, and mistakest. For surely he will
more thank thee and reward thee for the humble washing of His feet
when they are very foul, and yield an ill savour to thee, than for
all the curious painting and fair dressing or decking that thou
canst make about His head, by the devoutest remembrance of His
humanity; for it is fair enough, and needeth not much decking or
dressing from thee; but for His feet, and other His limbs, that
are sometimes ill-arrayed, and have need to be holpen by thee
(namely, since thou art bound thereto), our Lord will render thee
more thanks, if thou wilt humbly and charitably look unto them.

For the lower or meaner that the service which thou dost to thy
Lord seemeth to be, in regard they are performed towards His
members, and not immediately towards Himself, yet doing it for the
love of Him, when reasonable occasions or need require it, and
that with a cheerful and humble heart, thou much more pleasest Him
than in service immediately done to Himself with omission of these
offices of need or charity towards thy Christian brethren. And
that thou mayest be the more willing to go about such an
employment, thou shalt do well to think that it is sufficient, and
best of all for thee to be employed in the very least degree, and
lowest estate of His service, especially since it is His will that
it be so. For thou must think, that since He hath put thee into
that charge and estate of life, that it is the very best for thee,
and that thou canst not do better than in performing what belongs
thereto in the best manner and with all the willingness and
gladness of mind that thou art able.

This I tell thee not as though that already thou dost it not, and
better too; but to the end that thou shouldst do it with more
alacrity and cheerfulness by occasion of this my writing; and
shouldst not think it much sometimes to lessen or forbear thy
spiritual exercise for to go and deal in worldly affairs
pertaining to thee and thy estate, as to the looking and seeing
too, that thy goods be well kept and spent according to reason,
looking to the behaviour of thy servants and thy tenants, and
doing other good deeds towards thy Christian brethren according to
thy ability and their need, but shouldst perform both these works
and exercises, that is to say, the internal and external, at
divers and several times, and with as good a will the one as the
other, so far as thou canst. As for example, if thou hast been at
thy prayer and spiritual exercise, that finished thou shalt go and
busy thyself in some corporal or external doing concerning thy
Christian brethren, and therefore spend reasonable time with
willingness and gladness of mind. And after that thou hast been
busily employed for a time about thy servants, and other men with
whom thou shalt have occasions, and hast profitably spent with
them so much time as shall be truly needful, thou shalt then break
from these external doings, and shalt return again to thy prayers
and devotions, which thou shalt perform according to the grace
that God shall give thee for it; and so doing, thou, by the grace
of our Lord, shalt put away and avoid sloth, laziness, idleness
and vain rest, which often creep upon us through the deceitfulness
of our nature, under pretense or colour of contemplation or other
spiritual recollections; whereby we come to omit the performance
of good and meritorious external affairs and businesses pertaining
to us and our charge by the appointment or providence of God. And
thus thou shalt be always in some good exercise or other, internal
or external, by turns, and in their proper times.

Therefore thou shalt do well to observe and do that spiritually,
that is, in thy carriage in a spiritual life, which Jacob did in a
matter that was only corporal or external. The holy Scripture
telleth, how that Jacob, when he began to serve his master Laban,
he coveted Rachel his master's daughter for her fairness to be his
wife, and for the having of her he served seven years; but when he
had thought for to have had her to his wife, he had first Leah,
the other daughter, instead of Rachel, and afterwards he takes
Rachel, and so he had both at the last. By Jacob in holy Scripture
is understood an overcomer of sins; by those two wives are
understood, as St Gregory saith, the two kinds of lives that are
in the holy Church, which are the active life and the
contemplative life. Leah is as much to say as labour and painful
working, and betokeneth the active life. Rachel is as much as to
say as a sight of the beginning, which is God, and betokeneth the
contemplative life. Leah bore children, but she was sore-eyed.
Rachel was fair and lovely, but she was barren. And now even as
Jacob coveted Rachel for her fairness, and yet had her not when he
would, but first took Lead and afterwards Rachel, even so, every
man labouring, and heartily seeking (by compunction for his former
great sins of the flesh and of the world) now to become a new
servant to God in cleanness of good living, hath a great desire to
have and come by Rachel, which is to have rest in spiritual
sweetness, devotion and contemplation, for it is so fair, and so
lovely a life, that in hope for to have it he determined with
himself, by the grace of our Lord, for to serve Him with all his
diligence and might; but oft-times when he thinketh to have
Rachel, that is, rest in devotion, our Lord suffereth him to be
well exercised and tried, either with the temptations of the
world, or of the devil, or of his flesh, or else with some
external businesses and doing, corporal or spiritual, in help or
succour of his Christian brethren; and when he is thus well
exercised, and in travails with Leah, and is well-nigh overcome,
then our Lord giveth him Rachel, that is, grace and devotion, and
rest in conscience, and then hath he both Rachel and Leah.

So shalt thou do, according to the example of Jacob, these two
lives, active and contemplative, since God calleth and enableth
thee for both, and use the one with the other of them. By the one
life (which is the active) thou shalt bring forth the fruit of
many good deeds in help of thy Christian brethren; and by the
other shalt thou be made to become fair, clear-sighted and clean
in the supreme brightness and beauty, which is God, the beginner
and ender of all that is made, and then shalt thou be truly Jacob,
and an out-goer and overcomer of all sins; and after that, by the
grace of God, thy name shall be changed, as Jacob's name was, and
turned into Israel, and Israel is as much as to say: a man seeing
God. Therefore, if thou be first Jacob, and will discreetly use
these two lives afterwards, in time thou shalt be Israel, that is,
a true Contemplative, either in this life, if God will deliver
thee, and make thee free from the charges and businesses which
thou art bound to, or else after this life, fully and perfectly in
the bliss of heaven when thou comest thither. A man shall desire a
contemplative life, for it is fair and full of merit, therefore
thou shalt ever have it in thy mind, and in thy desire; but thou
shalt have in using active life, for it is both expedient and
necessary. Therefore, if upon just occasions, either concerning
thy children or thy servants or any other of thy Christian
brethren, for their profit or their heart's ease, upon reasonable
cause, asking it of thee, thou be put from thy rest in devotion,
when thou hadst much rather stay still thereat, be not angry with
them, nor heavy or sad within thyself, so far as thou art able to
help it, nor afraid, as if God would be angry with thee, that thou
leavest Him for any other business or doing, for He will not be
angry but well pleased and delighted thou so do. And therefore in
such a case readily leave off thy devotion of what kind soever it
be, and go about the deed, being service to thy Christian
brethren, and that as willing and readily, as if our Lord Himself
had called and bidden thee to go about it. Do so, I say, and
endure the difficulty thou findest in it for His love; and put
away all grudging for it, so far as thou canst; as also all
bitterness and offence taken against thy Christian brother for
calling thee to the said employment.

CHAPTER VII

That a Man's Devotion sometimes will be the greater by reason of
the outward Work which before out of Charity he had been in hand
with

AND it may fall out sometimes that the greater trouble thou hast
exteriorly had in doing of thy active works, the more inflamed
desire shalt thou afterwards have to God and the more sight of God
and spiritual things, through the grace of our Lord, in devotion
when thou comest thereto; for it fareth thereby as if thou hadst a
little coal of fire, and wouldst make a fire therewith, and make
it burn; thou wouldst first lay to some sticks, and with them
over-cover the coal so that there is as yet no show or seeming
hope of fire by it; nevertheless when thou hast abiden awhile and
afterwards blowest it a little, anon, suddenly there will arise
out a great flame of fire, so that the sticks will be turned all
into fire. Even so is it spiritually; thy will and thy desire that
thou hast to God is as it were a little coal of fire in thy soul,
for it giveth to thee somewhat of light and of spiritual heat; but
it is very little that it giveth, for often it waxeth cold and
turneth to a fleshly rest (or into a rest of flesh and sensuality)
and sometimes into idleness and doing of no good; therefore it is
expedient that thou put to sticks, that is, some works of the
active life; and though it be so that those works do seem for a
time to be a let to thy desire, so that it may not be so entire
nor so fervent as thou wouldst it were, yet be not daunted nor
troubled thereat, but abide and suffer awhile, and so blow at the
fire; that is, first go and do thy works, and afterwards, go alone
to thy prayers and devotions, and lift up thine heart to God, and
pray Him that of His goodness He will accept thy works that thou
doest and receive them to His honour and glory; hold them as
nothing in thine own sight, nor to be of any worth save so far as
God only out of His goodness shall vouchsafe to accept of them;
humbly acknowledge thy wretchedness and frailty really attributing
thy good deeds to Him; and so much as they have any goodness in
them, and inasmuch as they are bad, or not done discreetly with
all circumstances requisite for a good deed, ascribe them to
thyself, and then for this humility shall all thy good deeds turn
into a flame of fire as do sticks laid upon a coal; and thou thus
doing, thy external good deeds shall not hinder thy devotion but
rather increase it. And moreover, our Lord saith in holy Scripture
thus: Fire shall always burn in My Alter, and the Priest rising up
in the morning shall put wood thereunto, so that the fire may not
be extinguished.346 This fire is love and desire to God in a soul,
the which fire requireth that it be nourished and maintained by
laying to sticks, so that it may not go out; and these sticks are
of divers matters, as some of one kind of wood and some of
another. A man that is learned and hath some understanding in the
holy Scripture, if he have this fire of devotion in his heart, it
is good for him to get him sticks of holy examples and devout
prayers, and nourish the fire with them. Another man that is
unlearned cannot so readily have at hand the sayings of holy
Scripture, or of Doctors for the purpose, and therefore it is
necessary for him to do many good external deeds to his Christian
brethren, and thereby maintain and exercise towards them the love
he beareth them for God.

And so it is good that each man in his degree, and according to
what is most agreeable to the benefit and disposition of his soul,
do get him sticks of one thing or another, as either by praying,
considering, meditating or reading in some good and devout book,
or in doing of some corporal or external work, thereby for to
nourish in his soul the fire of love so that it may not become
quenched; for the affection of love is dainty and tender, and will
easily go out and vanish away unless it be well kept and
continually nourished by good deeds or exercises, corporal or
spiritual.

Now therefore, since our Lord hath put into thine heart a little
sparkle of this blessed fire, that is Himself, (as holy Scripture
saith, Our Lord is a consuming fire;347 for, as a material fire
wasteth all bodily things that may be wasted, so a spiritual fire,
that is God, wasteth all kind of sin, and therefore our Lord is
likened to fire wasting) I pray thee to nourish this fire within
thee. This fire is nothing else but Love and Charity. This hath He
sent into the earth, as He saith in the Gospel: I came to send
fire into the earth, and to what end, but that it might burn?348
that is, God hath put into man's soul a fire of love and a good
desire, and a great good will for to please Him, and that He hath
done to this end, that man should know it, keep it, and nourish
it, and strengthen and increase it, and thereby be saved. The
greater desire that thou hast to Him and for Him, the greater is
the fire of love in thee, and the less that the desire is in thee,
the less is the fire. The quantity or measure of thy desire within
thee, how much it is, neither thyself doth know, nor doth any man
know how great it is in him, much less the quantity of love that
is in another man; God only knoweth it, or he to whom God shall
reveal and make it known. And therefore dispute not with thyself
as if thou wouldst know how great thy desire is; be busy and
serious to desire as much as thou canst, but not to know the
quantity or measure of thy desire.

CHAPTER VIII

What the Desire of God for Himself is and how that in Cleanness of
Conscience is found true Comfort and Sweetness

SAINT AUGUSTINE saith that the life of every good Christian man is
a continual desire to God, and such desire is of great power and
virtue, for it is a great crying in the ears of God; the more
fervently thou desirest, the higher thou criest, the better thou
prayest, and the wiser are thy thoughts. And what is this desire?
Surely nothing but a loathing of all this worldly bliss, a
forsaking of all fleshly or sensual love in thine heart, and an
extreme loving, with a most hungry longing and thirsting after God
and the everlasting bliss of Heaven; this is that which may be
called a desire of God for Himself.

If thou hast this desire, as I verily hope and believe that thou
hast, I pray thee keep it well and nourish it diligently; and when
thou shalt pray or meditate of God, make this desire of Him to be
the beginning and final intention of such thy exercises, and of
all other thy works and deeds, thereby to increase it. Seek and
nourish only this, and seek not after any feeling in thy corporal
senses, external or internal, nor any sensible sweetness or
devotion, neither by the ear nor by the taste of thy palate, nor
by any wonderful light or sight of thy eyes, nor seek the sight of
Angels, no, though our Lord Himself would appear in His body to
the sight of thy eyes, make no great matter of that; and therefore
let all thy diligence be that thou mayest truly and really
perceive and find in thy soul, and especially in thy will, a
loathing and full forsaking of all manner of sin and of all manner
of uncleanness, with a spiritual seeing or perceiving how foul,
how ugly and how painful these things be; and that thou mayest
have within thee a mighty desiring of virtues, and, namely, of
humility and charity, and finally, of the bliss of Heaven. This
that I shall now tell thee were (as I would think) a spiritual
comfort, and a spiritual sweetness in a man's soul; and that is,
to have cleanness in conscience from wickedness and from all
worldly vanities, with a firm faith and humble hope and a full
desire of God. Howsoever it be for having of other comforts and
sweetnesses I esteem that sweetness to be true, sound and secure
that is found in cleanness of conscience, with a strong will of
forsaking and loathing of all sins, and with inward sight and
fervent desire of spiritual things; all other comforts and
sweetnesses caused by any manner of feelings, unless they lead or
help to the said end, that is, to cleanness of conscience and
spiritual desire of God, are not secure to rest on.

But now thou wilt perhaps ask, whether this desire be love to God?

As to that I answer and say: That this desire is not properly
love, but a beginning and taste of love, for love properly is a
perfect uniting and coupling together of the lover and the loved
into one. Perfect love maketh God and the soul to be as if they
both together were but one thing. But such perfect coupling and
union may not be had in this life, but only in desire and longing
thereto, as by the example that I shall now deliver thee. If a man
love another man that is absent, he greatly desireth his presence.
Even so spiritually, as long as we are in this life, our Lord is
absent from us, so that here we may neither see Him nor feel Him
as He is, and therefore are not able (for want of such sight and
feeling) here to love Him in fulness and perfection and in reality
as we might do if we had the sight of Him really, and as He is in
His own being; the which, because we have not, nor shall have in
this life, therefore all that we can do here is to have a desire
and a great longing and thirsting for to be present with Him and
see Him in His bliss, and to be fully and perfectly united unto
Him in love. This desire we may have in us (of His gift) in this
life, by the which we shall be saved, for it is love unto Him,
such as may here be had. St Paul saith thus: We know that while we
are in this body we are pilgrims (or strangers) from God.349 That
is, we abide in this earth, or banishment, absent from Heaven, for
we here walk by faith, and not by sight (that is, we here live in
faith, not in real sight of Him as He is); but we are bold, and
have a good will rather to be absent from the body, and to be
present to our Lord (that is, we, through cleanness of conscience
and sure trust of salvation, dare desire parting from our body by
bodily death, and thereupon to be present to our Lord);
nevertheless, because as yet we may not, therefore we endeavour,
whether present or absent, to please Him; that is, we strive
against the sins of the world, and pleasures of the flesh, and
sensuality, by desire to Him, seeking to burn and consume in the
fire of such our desire all things that may let or hinder us from
Him.

But thou wilt perhaps further ask me: Whether a man may
continually have this desire in his heart? and thou perhaps
thinkest that he cannot.

As to that I will answer according to my opinion in it, which is,
that thou mayest have this desire in thine heart and intention
virtually or habitually, always and continually; but thou canst
not so have it as to working or exercising upon it, as thou mayest
better understand by this example. If thou wert sick, thou wouldst
have, as every man in such a case hath, continually a natural
desire in thine heart of bodily health; and this whether thou be
asleep or awake, but art thinking of some worldly things; thou
hast then such a desire only in intention or habit, and not in
using or acting upon it. But when thou thinkest on thy bodily
sickness or on thy health, then hast thou thy said desire of
health in using and acting. Even so it is spiritually in the
desire of God. He who by the gift of God hath this desire, though
he sleep, or else thinketh not on God, but on some other worldly
things, yet hath he this desire in his heart and soul till he
commit some deadly sin. But as soon as he thinketh on God or
purity of life or the joys of Heaven, then his desire to God
worketh actually, as long as he keepeth his thought and intention
to please God, either in prayers, meditations, or any other good
action, so that all his endeavour be to excite this desire, and
discreetly use it sometimes in one deed, sometimes in another,
according as he is disposed and hath grace thereto.

This desire is the root of all thy actions that are rewardable.
For whatever good deed thou doest for God's sake, whether it be
bodily or spiritual, as when thou prayest or meditatest, it is an
exercising and using of this desire. And therefore when thou doest
any good work, scruple not whether thou desirest God or no, for
thy deed showeth thy desire. Some ignorantly conceive that they
desire not God except they be ever calling upon Him either with
their mouths or their hearts; and therefore they are continually
saying, Lord save me, or some such-like words; which words indeed
are good, because they stir up the heart to a desiring of God. Yet
nevertheless, without any such words, a pure thought of God, or
any spiritual thing, or of virtue, or the humanity of Christ, or
joys of Heaven, or understanding of the holy Scriptures, with
love, may be better than such words. And the more spiritual thy
thought is, the more is thy desire. Be not, therefore, in doubt
whether thou desirest God, when thou thinkest upon Him or doest
any outward good work to thy neighbour, for thy deeds show it.
Nevertheless, though all thy good actions, spiritual and corporal,
are a demonstration of thy desire to God, yet is there a great
difference between spiritual and corporal deeds, for deeds of a
Contemplative life are not so outward as the other; and therefore
when thou prayest unto, or meditatest upon God, thy desire to Him
is more entire, more fervent, more spiritual than when thou doest
external works of charity to thy neighbour.

Now, if thou ask me by what means thou shalt keep this desire, and
nourish it, I shall tell a little in that point, not with the
meaning that thou shalt or must use the self-same form that I tell
thee for it; but that thou thereby have some kind of general
example, whereof thou shalt make use upon thy need and according
to thy manner -- not my manner, unless mine seem more for thy
purpose, for I neither may nor can tell thee fully what is best
for thee to use; but I shall tell thee somewhat according to what
I think.

CHAPTER IX

How thou shalt Dispose thee to Devotion

IN the night after thy sleep, if thou wilt rise to pray and serve
our Lord, thou shalt feel thyself at the first to be fleshly,
heavy, and, as it were, drowned in sensuality, and ofttimes
impertinent thoughts of the world or other vanities pressing into
thy mind. But then shalt thou dispose thee to pray, or to think
some good thought, for to revive and quicken thine heart towards
God, and do thou use all thy discreet industry, for the drawing up
of thy thoughts from worldly vanities, and from vain imaginations
that come into thy mind, that so thou mayest feel some devotion in
such vocal prayers as thou shalt then use, if thou use any such;
or else (if thou wilt) enter thou into some spiritual thoughts,
whereby thou mayest not remain hindered and troubled with such
vain thoughts of the world or of thy flesh. And now as for matter
of good thoughts for thee, thou must know that there be divers
matters of such thoughts or meditations, but which of them were
best for thee to take and use I cannot tell thee.

But I trow that such matter and manner of thinking or meditating,
wherein thou feelest greatest gust, facility and ease or pleasure,
is best for thee to use so long as it continueth so grateful to
thy spirit. Thou mayest (it thou wilt) sometimes think on thy sins
heretofore committed, and of the frailties into which thou daily
fallest, and ask mercy and forgiveness for them. Also after this
thou mayest think on the frailties and sins and miseries, corporal
and spiritual, of thy Christian brethren, with pity and compassion
of them, and ask mercy and forgiveness for them as tenderly as for
thyself, and as if thou hadst done them, and that is a good
exercise for the time. For I tell thee for truth that thou mayest
make of other men's sins a precious ointment for to heal thine own
soul, when thou thinkest on them with compassion and sorrow for
them; this ointment is precious and very medicinal, though the
spicery or things whereof it is composed be not clean, or
otherwise wholesome; for it is treacle or mithridate, made of
poison for to do away and destroy poison; that is to say, thine
own and other men's sins. If thou beat and bruise them well with
sorrow of thine heart, pity and compassion, they turn into treacle
or mithridate, that will cleanse and make whole thy soul from
pride and envy, and bring into it love and charity to thy
Christian brethren. Such thought is good for thee sometimes to
take into thee.

CHAPTER X

How a Man is to Think on the Humanity of Christ

ALSO for thy exercise of devotion thou mayest think on the
humanity of our Lord, as of His birth, of His Passion or of any
other of His works, and feed thy thought with spiritual
imagination thereof, for to move thine affection more to the love
of Him. This thought (I mean of something of our Saviour's
humanity) is good and expedient, namely, when it cometh freely of
God's gift, with devotion and fervour of spirit, else a man will
not likely find taste or devotion in it. And if he have it not
with such facility and sending of God, I think it not expedient
that a man should much force himself in it, as if he would get it
by violence; for so doing he might hurt his head and body too, and
yet be never the nearer. Therefore I think that it is good for a
man to have in his mind and thought sometimes our Saviour's
humanity, or some matter thereof; and if devotion come withal, and
relish or gust found in it, then to hold it and follow it for a
time, but leave off soon, and hang not long thereon. And if
devotion come not by thinking of the Passion, strive not, nor
press too much for to have and come by such devotion or feeling in
it, but take what will easily come; and if it come not easily
betake thee to some other matter, wherein thou thinkest or hopest
to find more devotion or gust.

CHAPTER XI

How a Man shall think on Virtues and upon the Saints

ALSO other thoughts there be that are more spiritual, as to think
on virtues, and to see by light of understanding the virtue of
humility, what it is, and what great reasons be why a man should
be humble; and also what is patience, cleanness in soul, justice,
charity, sobriety and other such like virtues; and how worthy it
is that a man should labour for the getting of them, and of the
means by which they may be gotten, and by such thoughts to have a
great desire and longing to the having of those virtues; and also
for to have a spiritual sight of the three principal, or
Theological Virtues, Faith, Hope and Charity. By the sight and
desire of these virtues a soul should see and feel much grace of
our Lord, without which grace a man's soul is half blind, and
without spiritual sweetness or taste. Also, for to think on the
saints, as the apostles, martyrs, confessors and holy virgins,
beholding in his interior their holy living and the grace and
virtues that our Lord gave them in their life, and by the
remembrance and consideration hereof, to stir thy heart for to
take example from them for leading a better and perfecter life.

CHAPTER XII

How a Man shall think of the Holiness of our Lord Jesus and of our
Blessed Lady

ALSO the thinking and considering (above all other saints) of our
Lady St Mary and her excellency in grace and virtues is a good
matter for raising and exercise of devotion, by seeing with thy
spiritual eye the abundance of grace that was in her holy soul
when she was here living, which our Lord had given her, above what
He gave to any of the other Saints; for she was replenished with
all other virtues, without one spot of sin, showing and
manifesting by her life perfect humility and fulness of charity,
with the beauty and excellence of all other virtues, the which
virtues altogether make her so holy, that there would no
temptation, or motion of pride, envy, wrath or anger, sensual
delight or of any other kind of sin or imperfection enter into her
heart or defile her soul in any part of it. By the beholding of
the beauty and excellency of this blessed soul, a man's heart
should be moved and put into a great spiritual delight and
comfort.

And much more and above that is the beholding of the soul of our
Lord Jesus, the which soul of His was fully and wholly united to
the divinity, excelling without any comparison our blessed Lady
and all other creatures. For in the Passion of Jesus are two
natures, that is, God and man, perfectly united together. By the
virtue of this most blessed union, which cannot be expressed nor
yet conceived by man's wit or understanding, the soul of Jesus
hath received the perfection and fulness of all wisdom and
goodness; as the Apostle saith: The fulness of the divinity doth
dwell is Christ corporally;350 that is, the divinity of God was
fully united to the humanity (or man's nature) in the soul of
Jesus, and so, by the means of His soul dwelling in His body, the
remembrance of the humanity of our Lord after this manner (that
is, to regard the virtues and surpassing grace of the soul of
Jesus) should be right comfortable to a man's soul.

CHAPTER XIII

Of seeing and beholding the Power (by some consideration or
thinking), the Wisdom, the Goodness and the Mercy of God in His
Creatures

ALSO the remembrance of the power, the wisdom and the goodness of
our Lord in all His creatures; for as much as we living here on
earth cannot see God fully and as He is in His essence, therefore
we are to see and behold Him, love and fear Him upon the sight and
consideration of His creatures and His works; and in them also are
we to admire and wonder at His power and goodness. Also, for to
think on the mercy of our Lord, that He hath showed to me and to
thee, and to all sinful captives that sometimes were in bondage to
the devil, through the greatness and multitude of our sins; how He
patiently suffered us to live in our sin, and in our heinous
contempts of Him, and work no revenge on us for the same, as He
most justly might have done, and might most worthily have cast us
down headlong into Hell, if His love had not hindered Him; but out
of love He spared us, and sent His grace into our souls, taking us
out of the state of heinous sins, and by His grace hath turned our
will entirely unto Him, and made us thereby, for the having of
Him, and for His love, to forsake all manner of sin. The
remembrance of His mercy and goodness, in these and in other
matters and points more and greater than I can now reckon up, may
justly cause and bring into a soul a great truth and confidence in
our Lord, and a full hope of salvation, and greatly inflameth the
desire of love to aspire to the joys of Heaven.

CHAPTER XIV

How the Consideration and thinking on the Miseries and Perils of
this Life is apt to breed in a soul the Desire of Heaven

ALSO to think upon the miseries, mischiefs and perils, corporal
and spiritual, that happen in this life; and after that to think
of the joys of Heaven, as how great happiness is there, and what
wonderful joy and delight; for there is neither sin, nor sorrow,
nor passion nor pain, hunger nor thirst, aches nor sickness, doubt
nor fear, shame nor blame, nor want of power, nor strength, nor
lack of light, nor coldness in love; but there is most excellent
beauty, clearness, strength, health, everlasting delights, perfect
wisdom, love, peace, honour, security, rest, joy and bliss in
abundance without ever having any end. The consideration of these
points ought to cause thee the more fervently to covet and desire
those everlasting joys and rest of that same most blessed life.
Many men are covetous of worldly goods, honours and earthly
riches, and think both in dreaming and waking how and by what
means they might come thereto; and then they forget all care of
their souls' good, and all thoughts of the pains of Hell, or of
the joys of Heaven. Surely these men are not wise; they are like
to children that run after butterflies, and, because they look not
to their feet, they sometimes easily fall down and break their
legs. What is all the pomp, honours, riches and jollity of this
world but a butterfly? Surely it is no more, yea, it is much less.
Therefore, I pray thee, be covetous of the joys of Heaven, and
thou shalt have honour and riches that shall last for ever. For at
the latter day, when worldly covetous men bring no good in their
hands (because all their honour and riches, which they only made
account of, are turned into nothing but sorrow and pain) then the
good men of the world, that have truly forsaken all vain honours
and riches of this world, or else if they had them they made no
account in their hearts of them, nor did set their love or delight
in them, but have ever lived in the peace of God and in humility
and in hope, and sometimes in sorrows or afflictions, and
patiently expected the mercy of God; they (I say) shall then fully
attain that which they here coveted, for they shall be crowned as
kings, and shall ascend up with our Lord into the bliss of Heaven.
Also there be many other good considerations or thoughts (more
than I can speak of) that serve to stir and raise a man's mind and
affection to loathe the vanities of this world and to desire the
joys of Heaven.

These matters I have not mentioned unto thee as if I had withal
fully showed the manner how they are exercised in a man's soul;
but I have only touched them a little, to the end thou mightest,
by so much the better, understand these things for such use as
thou canst best make of them.

CHAPTER XV

How a Man shall do when he feeleth no taste nor comfort in his
Mental Exercises

NEVERTHELESS I would think it were good for thee that when thou
disposest thee to think on God, as I have before said, or in any
other manner, and peradventure thou feelest no gust nor devotion
in thy exercise, but only a naked mind and a weak will; by which
thou wouldst fain think on God, but canst not; then I think it is
good for thee that thou strive not too much with thyself, for so
thou mayest fall into greater darkness, unless thou knowest how to
work more subtlety, and more above in spirit, and with all
quietness in the senses. But thou not knowing how to do so for
want of experience or skill in it, I hold it more secure for thee
in such a case for to say thy Pater noster and thine Ave Maria, or
else thy Matins, or to read in thy Psalter, for that is evermore a
sure standard that will not fail. Whoso may cleave thereto he
shall not err; and if thou canst by thy prayer get devotion, look
then that this devotion be only in affection, that is to say in a
great desire toward God, with a spiritual delight. Hold on then
such thy saying of those vocal prayers, and not easily break off;
for oftentimes it happeneth that praying with the mouth getteth
and keepeth devotion, and if in such a case thou cease from
saying, thy devotion withal vanisheth away.

Nevertheless, if Devotion in prayer bring into thine heart a
devout thought of the humanity of our Lord, or of any of the other
matters before mentioned by me, and this thought should be
hindered by thy saying of the vocal prayers, then will it be best
for thee to cease from thy saying, and to feed thy mind and
affection with the thought of the said good matter till it leave
thee and be vanished away.

CHAPTER XVI

What a Man is to take heed of in his Prayers and Meditations

BUT of certain things it behoveth thee to beware in thy
meditations; of some of them I shall tell thee. One is that when
thou hast had a spiritual thought or imagination of the humanity
of our Lord, or of other bodily things, and thy soul hath been
comforted and fed therewith, and afterward it passeth away of
itself; do not seek, as it were, by mastery or force to hold it
still, for then it will turn thee into pain and bitterness. Also,
if it pass not away, but dwell still in thy mind, without any
travail or industry of thine, and thou, for the comfort thou
findest in it, wilt not leave it, and thereupon it still
continuing with thee, cometh to bereave or hinder thee of thy
sleep at nights, or else in the day times hindereth thee from
other good deeds, or else through the great fervour that it
worketh in thy body, thy body or thine head by it falleth into a
great feebleness, then must thou lessen or moderate, and sometimes
forbear such exercise of thine, even when thou hast most devotion
in it, or to it, and wouldst otherwise be most loth to forbear it,
or part from it; and therefore thou must needs use discretion in
the matter, for to avoid those mischiefs, or any of them, which
now I have reckoned up to thee, or any other mischief or peril
that may come to thee through indiscreet fervour or love to those
thy exercises; and in particular, give it over when it is
reasonable time to give it over, or when thy Christian brother may
receive harm, or take just offence at thee by occasion of thy long
stay at such thy devotions. If thou do otherwise in this matter
than I have told thee, I think thou dost not well nor wisely in
it.

A worldly man or woman that peradventure feels not devotion twice
in a year, if he (through the grace of our Lord Jesus) feel great
compunction for his sins, or think seriously or devoutly on the
Passion of our Lord, or upon any other good matter, if he by
occasion thereof, and his devotion therein, be put from his sleep
and his rest, for one, or two, or three nights, until his head
ache, it makes no great matter, nor will he be the worse for it;
such devotion cometh but seldom upon such persons. But as for
thee, or any other man or woman, that every day duly performest,
or hath such devotions, and intendest to continue in pursuing of
such daily exercises, it is expedient for thee to use and hold
discretion in thy performance of those thy exercises, and not
fully to yield and plunge thyself into devotion, so far as it will
offer itself unto thee, but moderate thyself in it, and take it
moderately, though it offer itself to thee in abundance.

Also I hold it good, that thou observe this discretion in thy
exercise, which is, that thou tarry not too long at it, that
thereby thou put thyself from taking thy meat or of thy sleep,
when the time shall be for taking of them, or do give just cause
of displeasure or damage to any other man, through occasion of
overlong tarrying at such thy devotion. The wise man saith: That
all things have their time.351

Another thing which behoveth thee to beware of is that when thy
mind hath been employed for a time in the imagination of the
humanity of our Saviour, or any other good matter, and after this
thou seekest with all the desire of thine heart, for to have a
more spiritual knowing or feeling of the divinity; press not too
much upon such desire, nor suffer the desire of thine heart to
tarry too long therein, as if thou wert expecting and tarrying for
some better or higher elevation of thy spirit, or for a feeling
that had more worth or excelling in it than any thou hast hitherto
had. Thou shalt not do so. It is enough for thee and for me for to
have a desire and a longing to our Lord; and if He out of His
grace and goodness will vouchsafe, over and above such desires of
ours, freely, and of His own accord, to send us of His spiritual
light, and open our spiritual eye, for to see or know more of Him
than heretofore he did or could, by our own labour and industry,
let us thank him for it; but if He do not (because we are not as
yet humble enough, but were likely to grow proud by reason of such
extraordinary favours, if He bestowed them on us, or are not
disposed in other respects, and namely, by cleanness of conscience
through well living, for to receive such grace and favour at His
hands), then let us humbly acknowledge our own unworthiness, and
hold ourselves satisfied with the desire we have of Him, and with
other common good thoughts, that may easily be had and used by our
imagination; as thinking of our sins, of Christ's Passion, or
other such like things, or else with some vocal prayers of the
Psalter or other vocal prayers, and thank Him with all our hearts,
that He bestoweth upon us any portion of His grace or favour,
though it be the least that any man hath. And if thou do
otherwise, thou mayest easily be deceived (for thy presumption) by
the spirit of error; for it is a great folly for a man of his own
head or wilfulness to press or strain himself too much, to get
into the sight or exercise of spiritual things further than he
seeth well that he hath invitation and enablement for it. For the
wise man saith that the searcher of the Majesty (of God) shall be
oppressed by the glory of Him;352 for not having humility,
cleanness and worthiness in soul, for such a sight he shall be
cast down, and made to know himself better than he did through
this confusion. And therefore the same wise man in another place
saith thus: Do not seek for things that are higher, nor search
into things that pass thy strength;353 that is to say, high things
that are above thy natural reason and apprehension seek not after,
and great matters that are above thy ability or strength do not
search into. By these words the wise man doth not wholly forbid us
to seek after and desire the knowing and having of spiritual and
heavenly things, but he forbiddeth us to seek for them in a
preposterous manner, which is too soon, and sooner than we are fit
for them or that God calleth us to them, as when we are as yet
sensual, and not cleansed from the vain love of the world; being
in that degree, we are not to take upon us as if we could or would
by our labour or industry, or by our own wit, enable ourselves to
discern, see or know spiritual things, or procure in us great
fervour of the love of God; so that albeit we see that we set at
nought all worldly things, and it seem to us that we would for
God's love forsake all the wealth, honour and joys of this world;
yet for all this we are unfit and indisposed for to seek and
behold spiritual things that are above us, until our souls through
precedent exercises of the imagination, become to be more subtle,
or as it were thin, or somewhat spiritual, and withal he become
well mortified and settled in virtues by process of time and by
increase in grace. For (as St Gregory saith) no man suddenly (or
hastily) becometh supreme or perfect in grace, but beginneth with
little, and proceedeth on by little and little, until that he come
to be perfect, the which God grant that we all may one day be.
Amen.

FINIS.

ENDNOTES

1 It should be remembered that the book was written in the
fourteenth century, and the reader must expect inaccuracies which
would not be tolerated now. For instance, I would mention the
author's views about the sins of heathens, and inadequate notions
of the Sacrament of Penance.

2 This treatise exists in manuscript in the library of Merton
College. Mr Bliss, one of the librarians of the Bodleian, has
kindly examined it, and assures me that it nowhere implies that
Hilton himself belonged to the Order.

3 Many of these particulars are taken from the very interesting
account of the Anchorets in Dr Rock's "Church of our Fathers."

4 Compare "Ancren Riwle," p. 24, with Brockie, tom. IV, 121. It is
also plain, from p. 38 of the Riwle, that the author did not
believe the Immaculate Conception.

5 Chaire Fran�aise au Moyen Age, 414.

6 Ancren Riwle, p. 13.

7 P. 291.

8 P. 241.

9 This interpretation is rather different from that of the learned
translator of the "Riwle."

10 P. 417.

11 Blomfield, in his History of Norfolk, p. 546, mentions a MS.,
apparently existing in his day, and belonging to a clergyman of
the name of Peck, author of "The Antiquities of Stamford." The
book was first published by Cressy in 1670, and reprinted in 1843.

12 Sir Thomas Erpingham has the credit of having been a partisan
of Wycliffe. That for twenty-eight years before his death he was a
good Catholic is certain. From the year 1400 he was an intimate
friend of the Bishop of Norwich, the great enemy of the Lollards.
He is said to have built a gate at the west end of the Cathedral
as an atonement for his errors. In the same will there is a legacy
for Masses for his soul, and special bequests to each Monk. --
Blomfield, 372, 526.

13 It is true that Juliana Lampit is there said to be the recluse
of Carrow (v. Blomfield, p 515). The church of St Julian, however,
belonged to the nunnery of Carrow, and therefore the recluse might
very well have been called by that name. -- Pp. 545, 546, 862,
where 1528 is evidently a misprint for l428.

14 P. 157.

15 Pfeiffer, p. 386.

16 P. 110.

17 P. 62.

18 P. 71.

19 P. 111.

20 P. 9.

21 P. 63.

22 Purg. vii.

23 Quoted in Longman's Edward, i, 295.

24 Compare Purg. 23 and Par. 15, 16.

25 Cant�, Histoire des Italiens, tom. 7, c. 123.

26 Chaire Fran�aise au Moyen Age. P. 409.

27 Cant�, Ibid.

28 Schwab, Johannes Gerson, p. 38.

29 Chaire Fran�aise, 357.

30 Longman's Life of Edward III, ii, 24.

31 Ibid., 259.

32 It is true that Malespina mentions Epicureans (Muratori, 8,
933), even in the Countess Matilda's time, but there seem to have
been heretics of an older type to whom Malespina gives a name more
familiar to himself.

33 Neander, vol. ix, p. 241, Bohn's edition. He appends the
following note, "Among the forty-five articles attributed to
Wycliffe, the proposition, 'Omnia de necessitate absolute
eveniunt,' might justly be condemned as one actually belonging to
him." Neander is my authority throughout, for I am not acquainted
with Wycliffe's writings.

34 For instance, p. 131.

35 "We premise this, that when we attribute Personality to God, we
intend to asseverate of Him nothing else than that He is a Being
(Wesen) separated from all other existence (Sein), self-
subsisting, self-conscious, and free." -- Kleutgen, Theologie, i,
229. In other words, though freedom does not constitute
Personality, yet every free intellectual being must be personal.
Thus, because the Sacred Humanity was free, it must ipso facto
have possessed a personality, i.e., since it had none of its own,
that of the Divine Word.

36 P. 149.

37 P. 67.

38 How accessible were anchoresses to the influence of the outer
world is proved by the curious fact that the last anchoress of
Carrow was actually perverted by Bilney, and turned Protestant in
1530. -- Blomfield, p. 145.

39 Blomfield, 546. All that is known is that she was alive in
1443, but was a hundred years old. She had two servants to wait
upon her.

40 V. Mone, i, 286, 293, 254, and Ancren Riwle.

41 P. 151.

42 1 Cor. 13.

43 1 Cor. 8.

44 Ps. 33.

45 Ephes. 5.

46 1 Cor. 6:17.

47 Hansel, a first gift.

48 1 Cor. 13.

49 Ps. 138.

50 2 Cor. 5:13-14.

51 2 Cor. 3:18.

52 Since.

53 1 St John 4:1.

54 Know.

55 1 St John 4:3.

56 Ephes. 3:18.

57 Phil. 3:13.

58 Stable truth.

59 St Matt. 5.

60 Right rule.

61 St John 4.

62 Respect.

63 St Luke 14.

64 Ecclus. xv.

65 Is. 66.

66 Unskilful.

67 1 Cor. 10.

68 Assayed.

69 Psalm 141.

70 Ps. 40.

71 Ps. 135.

72 Unprosperous.

73 Interrupted.

74 Jer. 20:9.

75 1 Cor. 14:14,15.

76 Levit. 6.

77 Acts 2.

78 Ps. 1.

79 1 Cor. 2.

80 St John 16.

81 Ps. 90.

82 Is. 54:7-8.

83 Job 11.

84 Ecclus. 4:18.

85 1 Cor. 7.

86 1 Cor. 12.

87 Ephes. 4.

88 The fairness and the foulness of it.

89 St Luke 13.

90 St Matt. 16, St John 12.

91 Col. 3.

92 Romans 10.

93 1 St John 1.

94 St John 14.

95 Cant. 5.

96 Luke 10.

97 Deut. 11.

98 Ps. 72.

99 Ps. 118.

100 St Matt. 8.

101 Prov. 2.

102 St Luke 15.

103 Ps. 118.

104 St Matt. 6.

105 St Luke 8.

106 Molle.

107 Ps. 18.

108 Swink.

109 Silently.

110 Is. 45.

111 St Matt. 13.

112 Ps. 44.

113 St John 14.

114 St Matt. 11.

115 St John 13.

116 Rom. 6.

117 Agrise.

118 Brest it.

119 Rom. 7.

120 To feel.

121 Rom. 8.

122 Mede.

123 Homely.

124 Manhood.

125 Dan. 12.

126 Prov. 14.

127 Job 20.

128 Gal. 4.

129 Defame.

130 Is. 5.

131 Rom. 5.

132 1 Cor. 13.

133 Sickerly.

134 Rom. 8.

135 Ps. 138:16.

136 S. Matt. 5.

137 St John 13.

138 St Luke 16.

139 Jerem. 9.

140 Cantic. 1.

141 Reprieved.

142 Cantic. 2.

143 St Luke 14.

144 Joel 12.

145 Gen. 3.

146 Ecclus. 10.

147 Phil. 3.

148 Wisd. 2.

149 St Matthew 5.

150 1 Cor. 4.

151 Prov. 6.

152 Ps. 38.

153 1 Cor. 15.

154 Ga. 5.

155 Ephes. 4.

156 Prov. 4.

157 Is. 3.

158 Gal. 4.

159 St John 14.

160 Gen. 1.

161 1 Cor. 1.

162 Is. 2.

163 Heb. 11.

164 Rom. 8.

165 Heb. 10.

166 1 John 3.

167 Gal. 5.

168 Rom. 8.

169 St Matt. 5.

170 Cant. 1.

171 Cant. 1.

172 Twining.

173 St John 5.

174 Ephes. 6.

175 Wroken of him.

176 Apoc. 21.

177 It is to me to wyte no more.

178 Uggen.

179 Jer. 28.

180 St John 1.

181 Ezec. 33.

182 Sly.

183 Speedful.

184 Disease.

185 Ps. 83.

186 Swink and sweat.

187 Ps. 42.

188 Is. 26.

189 Job 3.

190 St John 1.

191 Din.

192 Homeliness.

193 Claude fenestras ut luceat domus.

194 Isa. 9.

195 Ezec. 40.

196 St James 3.

197 Ps. 96.

198 Mal. 4.

199 Hinder.

200 Gal. 6.

201 Colos. 3.

202 St Matt. 19.

203 Ps. 72.

204 Is. 9.

205 Isa. 58.

206 Is. 47.

207 Ps. 138.

208 Rom. 8.

209 Isa. 43.

210 Mirror.

211 Lam. 4.

212 Subtle in kind.

213 Acts 2.

214 Pyned.

215 In novitate sensus. Rom. 12.

216 Col. 1.

217 Eph. 4.

218 Col. 3.

219 St John 3.

220 1 St John 1.

221 Ps. 35.

222 Heb. 12.

223 2 Cor. 4.

224 St John 17.

225 1 St John 4.

226 1 St. John 4.

227 Arrected.

228 Restfully.

229 Medeful.

230 Nigheth.

231 Rom. 8.

232 Buxom.

233 Mede.

234 1 Cor. 3.

235 Phil. 2.

236 In little.

237 Perceiver.

238 Ps. 45.

239 Softness.

240 Sadness.

241 Laboursome.

242 Softness.

243 Full mede.

244 Soft.

245 Worship.

246 Keep.

247 Ps. 38.

248 Unnoteful.

249 Isa. 40.

250 Anentes.

251 Dainty.

252 Softly.

253 Lack.

254 Well paid.

255 Ps. 24.

256 Ps. 90:5.

257 Glenteth.

258 Wotteth.

259 Softly.

260 Softly.

261 Melancholy.

262 Chargeth.

263 Merch.

264 Well lever.

265 Liking.

266 Kepe.

267 Hangeth.

268 Lever.

269 Acts 5.

270 Felness.

271 Minstrelsy.

272 Craft.

273 Lever.

274 Assay.

275 Privity.

276 Entre.

277 Virtue.

278 Ps. 28.

279 Heb. 4.

280 Apoc. 8.

281 Boldness.

282 Rom. 8.

283 2 Cor. 1.

284 Buxom.

285 Ps. 63.

286 Homeliness.

287 Oneliness.

288 Osee 2.

289 Noyous.

290 Privity.

291 Isa. 24.

292 Apoc. 2.

293 Relief.

294 Sadness.

295 Cant. 5.

296 Luke 9.

297 Spered.

298 Fairhead.

299 Highing.

300 Hardly.

301 Fleshly heed.

302 Job 34.

303 Cant. 3.

304 Cant. 4.

305 Sothfastness.

306 Softly.

307 Cant. 1.

308 Sorted.

309 Keeps not.

310 Unkind.

311 Jas. 1.

312 Commoning.

313 Meanes.

314 Oonyd.

315 Heb. 10.

316 St John 3.

317 Sobriety.

318 Dissolution.

319 Buxom.

320 Chaffeth.

321 Lovings.

322 Ps. 140.

323 Happed.

324 Homely.

325 Fleshly heed.

326 Ps. 130.

327 1 John 4.

328 St Luke 24.

329 St John 15.

330 Cunning.

331 Is. 22.

332 Ps. 118.

333 1 Cor. 13.

334 Ezec. 1.

335 St John 10.

336 Haughtful.

337 Cant. 3.

338 Prov. 12.

339 St Matt. 8.

340  1 Cor. 4:3.

341 Shent.

342 Heb. 1.

343 Job 4.

344 Ps. 28.

345 Cant. 2:4.

346 Lev. 6:12,13.

347 Deut. iv, 24; Heb. xii, 29.

348 Luke 12:49.

349 2 Cor. 5:6.

350 Col. 2:9.

351 Eccles. 3.

352 Prov. 25:27.

353 Ecclus. 3:22.

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