A book of contemplation the which is called the Cloud of unknowing, in the which a soul is oned with God

THE GLOUD
OF UNKNOWING

THE CLOUD OF
UNKNOWING

fi,'f-^.Wi (^ 0 T'j H'fJticO'\\

A BOOK OF CONTEMPLA-
TION THE WHICH IS
CALLED THE CLOUD OF
UNKNOWING, IN THE
WHICH A SOUL IS ONED
WITH GOD

Edited from the British Museum MS. Harl. 674

With an Introduction

BY

EVELYN UNDERHILL

SECOND EDITION

London

JOHN M. WATKINS

21 Cecil Court, Charing Cross Road

1922

LIBRARY

PoBllRcsl Instilulo o( M«<i;»9»al StuSti

U,.'^ ST. JO;v£PH STRCCT
■nu ro, ONT. CAMADA M5S 1J«

RECEiVED MAY 0 3 1995

INTRODUCTION

THE little family of mystical treatises
which is known to students as ** the
Cloud of Unknowing group," deserves
more attention than it has hitherto
received from English lovers of mysti-
cism : for it represents the first expres-
sion in our own tongue of that great
mystic tradition of the Christian Neo-
platonists which gathered up, remade,
and " salted with Christ's salt " all
that was best in the spiritual wisdom
of the ancient world.

That wisdom made its definite en-
trance into the Catholic fold about
A.D. 500, in the writings of the pro-
found and nameless mystic who chose
to call himself ** Dionysius the Areo-
pagite. ' ' Three hundred and fifty years
later, those writings were translated

5

6 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

into Latin by John Scotus Erigena, a
scholar at the court of Charlemagne,
and so became available to the eccle-
siastical world of the West. Another
five hundred years elapsed, during
which their influence was felt, and
felt strongly, by the mystics of every
European country : by St Bernard,
the Victorines, St Bonaventura, St
Thomas Aquinas. Every reader of
Dante knows the part which they play
in the Paradiso. Then, about the
middle of the 14th century, England —
at that time in the height of her great
mystical period — led the way with the
first translation into the vernacular of
the Areopagite's work. In Dionise
Hid Diuinite, a version of the Mystica
Theologia, this spiritual treasure-house
was first made accessible to those
outside the professionally religious
class. Surely this is a fact which all
lovers of mysticism, all " spiritual
patriots," should be concerned to hold
in remembrance.

It is supposed by most scholars that

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 7

Dionise Hid Diu/nite, which — appearing
as it did in an epoch of great spiritual
vitality — quickly attained to a con-
siderable circulation, is by the same
hand which wrote the Cloud of Un-
knowing and its companion books ; and
that this hand also produced an
English paraphrase of Richard of St
Victor's Benjamin l\/linor, another work
of much authority on the contem-
plative life. Certainly the influence
of Richard is only second to that of
Dionysius in this unknown mystic's
own work — work, however, which
owes as much to the deep personal
experience, and extraordinary psycho-
logical gifts of its writer, as to the
tradition that he inherited from the
past.

Nothing is known of him ; beyond
the fact, which seems clear from his
writings, that he was a cloistered
monk devoted to the contemplative
life. It has been thought that he was
a Carthusian. But the rule of that
austere order, whose members live

8 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

in hermit-like seclusion, and scarcely
meet except for the purpose of divine
worship, can hardly have afforded him
opportunity of observing and enduring
all those tiresome tricks and absurd
mannerisms of which he gives so
amusing and realistic a description
in the lighter passages of the Cloud,
These passages betray the half-humor-
ous exasperation of the temperamental
recluse, nervous, fastidious, and hyper-
sensitive, loving silence and peace,
but compelled to a daily and hourly
companionship with persons of a less
contemplative type : some finding in
extravagant and meaningless gestures
an outlet for suppressed vitality ; others
overflowing with a terrible cheerful-
ness like '' giggling girls and nice
japing jugglers " ; others so lacking in
repose that they *' can neither sit still,
stand still, nor lie still, unless they be
either wagging with their feet or else
somewhat doing with their hands."
Though he cannot go to the length of
condemning these habits as mortal

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 9

sins, the author of the Cloud leaves us
in no doubt as to the irritation with
which they inspired him, or the dis-
trust with which he regards the
spiritual claims of those who fidget.

The attempt to identify this mys-
terious writer with Walter Hilton,
the author of The Scale of Perfection,
has completely failed : though Hilton's
work — especially the exquisite frag-
ment called the Song of Angels —
certainly betrays his influence. The
works attributed to him, if we exclude
the translations from Dionysius and
Richard of St Victor, are only five in
number. They are, first. The Cloud of
Unknowing — the longest and most
complete exposition of its author's
peculiar doctrine — and, depending
from it, four short tracts or letters :
The Epistle of Prayer, The Epistle of
Discretion in the Stirrings of the Soul,
The Epistle of Priuy Counsel, and The
Treatise of Discerning of Spirits. Some
critics have even disputed the claim
of the writer of the Cloud to the

10 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

authorship of these little works, re-
garding them as the production of
a group or school of contemplatives
devoted to the study and practice of
the Dionysian mystical theology ; but
the unity of thought and style found
in them makes this hypothesis at least
improbable. Everything points rather
to their being the work of an original
mystical genius, of strongly marked
character and great literary ability :
who, whilst he took the framework of
his philosophy from Dionysius the
Areopagite, and of his psychology from
Richard of St Victor, yet is in no sense
a mere imitator of these masters, but
introduced a genuinely new element
into mediaeval religious literature.

What, then, were his special char-
acteristics ? Whence came the fresh
colour which he gave to the old Pla-
tonic theory of mystical experience ?
First, I think, from the combination
of high spiritual gifts with a vivid
sense of humour, keen powers of
observation, a robust common-sense :

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING ii

a balance of qualities not indeed rare
amongst the mystics, but here pre-
sented to us in an extreme form.
In his eager gazing on divinity this
contemplative never loses touch with
humanity, never forgets the sovereign
purpose of his writings ; which is not
a declaration of the spiritual favours
he has received, but a helping of his
fellow-men to share them. Next, he
has a great simplicity of outlook,
which enables him to present the
result of his highest experiences and
intuitions in the most direct and
homely language. So actual, and so
much a part of his normal existence,
are his apprehensions of spiritual
reality, that he can give them to us
in the plain words of daily life : and
thus he is one of the most realistic of
mystical writers. He abounds in vivid
little phrases — ** Call sin a lump " :
** Short prayer pierceth heaven " : ** No-
where bodily, is everywhere ghostly " :
"" Who that will not go the strait way
to heaven, . . . shall go the soft way to

12 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

hell.'* His range of experience is a
wide one. He does not disdain to
take a hint from the wizards and
necromancers on the right way to
treat the devil ; he draws his illus-
trations of divine mercy from the
homeliest incidents of friendship and
parental love. A skilled theologian,
quoting St Augustine and Thomas
Aquinas, and using with ease the
language of scholasticism, he is able,
on the other hand, to express the
deepest speculations of mystical philo-
sophy without resorting to academic
terminology : as for instance where
he describes the spiritual heaven as
a ** state " rather than a ** place " :

*' For heaven ghostly is as nigh down
as up, and up as down : behind as
before, before as behind, on one side
as other. Insomuch, that whoso had
a true desire for to be at heaven, then
that same time he were in heaven
ghostly. For the high and the next
way thither is run by desires, and not
by paces of feet."

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 13

His writings, though they touch on
many subjects, are chiefly concerned
with the art of contemplative prayer ;
that '* blind intent stretching to God "
which, if it be wholly set on Him,
cannot fail to reach its goal. A peculiar
talent for the description and discrim-
ination of spiritual states has enabled
him to discern and set before us, with
astonishing precision and vividness,
not only the strange sensations, the
confusion and bewilderment of the
beginner in the early stages of con-
templation— the struggle with distract-
ing thoughts, the silence, the dark —
and the unfortunate state of those
theoretical mystics who, ** swollen
with pride and with curiosity of much
clergy and letterly cunning as in
clerks,'* miss that treasure which is
*' never got by study but all only by
grace " ; but also the happiness of
those whose '^ sharp dart of longing
love " has not '* failed of the prick, the
which is God."

A great simplicity characterises his

14 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

doctrine of the soul's attainment of
the Absolute. For him there is but
one central necessity : the perfect and
passionate setting of the will upon the
Divine, so that it is " thy love and thy
meaning, the choice and point of
thine heart." Not by deliberate ascetic
practices, not by refusal of the world,
not by intellectual striving, but by
actively loving and choosing, by that
which a modern psychologist has
called ** the synthesis of love and will,"
does the spirit of man achieve its
goal. " For silence is not God," he
says in the Epistle of Discretion^ " nor
speaking is not God ; fasting is not
God, nor eating is not God ; loneli-
ness is not God, nor company is not
God ; nor yet any of all the other two
such contraries. He is hid between
them, and may not be found by any
work of thy soul, but all only by love
of thine heart. He may not be known
by reason, He may not be gotten
by thought, nor concluded by under-
standing ; but He may be loved and

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 15

chosen with the true lovely will of thine
heart. . . . Such a blind shot with the
sharp dart of longing love may never
fail of the prick, the which is God."

To him who has so loved and
chosen, and '* in a true will and by an
whole intent does purpose him to be
a perfect follower of Christ, not only in
active living, but in the sovereignest
point of contemplative living, the
which is possible by grace for to be
come to in this present life," these writ-
ings are addressed. In the prologue
of the Cloud of Unknowing we find the
warning, so often prefixed to mediaeval
mystical works, that it shall on no
account be lent, given, or read to other
men : who could not understand, and
might misunderstand in a dangerous
sense, its peculiar message. Nor was
this warning a mere expression of
literary vanity. If we may judge by
the examples of possible misunder-
standing against which he is careful
to guard himself, the almost tiresome
reminders that all his remarks are

i6 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

" ghostly, not bodily meant," the
standard of intelligence which the
author expected from his readers was
not a high one. He even fears that
some ** young presumptuous ghostly
disciples " may understand the in-
junction to ** lift up the heart " in a
merely physical manner ; and either
** stare in the stars as if they would
be above the moon," or ** travail their
fleshly hearts outrageously in their
breasts " in the effort to make literal
** ascensions " to God. Eccentricities
of this kind he finds not only foolish
but dangerous ; they outrage nature,
destroy sanity and health, and '* hurt
full sore the silly soul, and make it
fester in fantasy feigned of fiends."
He observes with a touch of arrogance
that his book is not intended for these
undisciplined seekers after the ab-
normal and the marvellous, nor yet
for " fleshly j anglers, flatterers and
blamers, . . . nor none of these curious,
lettered, nor unlearned men." It is to
those who feel themselves called to

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 17

the true prayer of contemplation, to
the search for God, whether in the
cloister or the world — whose '* little
secret love " is at once the energising
cause of all action, and the hidden
sweet savour of life — that he addresses
himself. These he instructs in that
simple yet difficult art of recollection,
the necessary preliminary of any true
communion with the spiritual order, in
which all sensual images, all memories
and thoughts, are as he says, ** trodden
down under the cloud of forgetting '^
until '* nothing lives in the working
mind but a naked intent stretching to
God." This ** intent stretching " — this
loving and vigorous determination of
the will — he regards as the central
fact of the mystical life ; the very
heart of effective prayer. Only by its
exercise can the spirit, freed from the
distractions of memory and sense,
focus itself upon Reality and ascend
with '' a privy love pressed " to that
** Cloud of Unknowing " — the Divine
Ignorance of the Neoplatonists —

3

1 8 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

wherein is " knit up the ghostly knot
of burning love betwixt thee and thy
God, in ghostly onehead and accord-
ing of will."

There is in this doctrine something
which should be peculiarly congenial
to the activistic tendencies of modern
thought. Here is no taint of quietism,
no invitation to a spiritual limpness.
From first to last glad and deliberate
work is demanded of the initiate : an
all-round wholeness of experience is
insisted on. " A man may not be fully
active, but if he be in part contempla-
tive ; nor yet fully contemplative, as it
may be here, but if he be in part
active." Over and over again, the
emphasis is laid on this active aspect
of all true spirituality — always a
favourite theme of the great English
mystics. '' Love cannot be lazy," said
Richard RoUe. So too for the author
of the Cloud energy is the mark of
true affection. '* Do forth ever, more
and more, so that thou be ever
doing. ... Do on then fast ; let see

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 19

how thou bearest thee. Seest thou
not how He standeth and abideth
thee ? "

True, the will alone, however ardent
and industrious, cannot of itself set
up communion with the supernal
world : this is ** the work of only God,
specially wrought in what soul that
Him liketh." But man can and must
do his part. First, there are the
virtues to be acquired : those ** orna-
ments of the Spiritual Marriage " with
which no mystic can dispense. Since
we can but behold that which we are,
his character must be set in order, his
mind and heart made beautiful and
pure, before he can look on the triple
star of Goodness, Truth, and Beauty,
which is God. Every great spiritual
teacher has spoken in the same sense :
of the need for that which Rolle calls
the ** mending of life " — regeneration,
the rebuilding of character — as the
preparation of the contemplative act.

For the author of the Cloud all
human virtue is comprised in the twin

20 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

qualities of Humility and Charity.
He who has these, has all. Humility,
in accordance with the doctrine of
Richard of St Victor, he identifies with
self-knowledge ; the terrible vision of
the soul as it is, which induces first
self-abasement and then self-purifica-
tion— the beginning of all spiritual
growth, and the necessary antecedent
of all knowledge of God. *' Therefore
swink and sweat in all that thou canst
and mayst, for to get thee a true know-
ing and a feeling of thyself as thou art ;
and then I trow that soon after that,
thou shalt have a true knowing and
a feeling of God as He is."

As all man's feeling and thought of
himself and his relation to God is
comprehended in Humility, so all his
feeling and thought of God in Himself
is comprehended in Charity ; the self-
giving love of Divine Perfection " in
Himself and for Himself " which Hilton
calls *' the sovereign and the essential
joy." Together these two virtues
should embrace the sum of his re-

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 21

sponses to the Universe ; they should
govern his attitude to man as well
as his attitude to God. '* Charity is
nought else . . . but love of God for
Himself above all creatures, and of
man for God even as thyself.'*

Charity and Humility, then, together
with the ardent and industrious will,
are the necessary possessions of each
soul set upon this adventure. Their
presence it is which marks out the
true from the false mystic : and it
would seem, from the detailed, vivid,
and often amusing descriptions of the
sanctimonious, the hypocritical, the
self-sufficient, and the self-deceived in
their '' diverse and wonderful varia-
tions," that such a test was as greatly
needed in the '' Ages of Faith " as it is
at the present day. Sham spirituality
flourished in the mediaeval cloister,
and offered a constant opportunity of
error to those young enthusiasts who
were not yet aware that the true free-
dom of eternity '' cometh not with
observation." Affectations of sanctity,

22 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

pretence to rare mystical experiences,
were a favourite means of advertise-
ment. Psychic phenomena, too, seem
to have been common : ecstasies,
visions, voices, the scent of strange
perfumes, the hearing of sweet sounds.
For these supposed indications of
Divine favour, the author of the
Cloud has no more respect than the
modern psychologist : and here, of
course, he is in agreement with all the
greatest writers on mysticism, who
are unanimous in their dislike and
distrust of all visionary and auditive
experience. Such things, he con-
siders, are most often hallucination :
and, where they are not, should be
regarded as the accidents rather than
the substance of the contemplative
life — the harsh rind of sense, which
covers the sweet nut of " pure ghostli-
ness." Were we truly spiritual, we
should not need them ; for our com-
munion with Reality would then be
the direct and ineffable intercourse of
like with like.

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 23

Moreover, these automatisms are
amongst the most dangerous instru-
ments of self-deception. '' Ofttimes,"
he says of those who deliberately seek
for revelations, ^* the devil feigneth
quaint sounds in their ears, quaint
lights and shining in their eyes, and
wonderful smells in their noses : and
all is but falsehood." Hence it often
happens to those who give themselves
up to such experiences, that '* fast after
such a false feeling, cometh a false
knowing in the Fiend's school : . . .
for I tell thee truly, that the devil hath
his contemplatives, as God hath His."
Real spiritual illumination, he thinks,
seldom comes by way of these psycho-
sensual automatisms '* into the body
by the windows of our wits." It
springs up within the soul in ** abun-
dance of ghostly gladness." With so
great an authority it comes, bringing
with it such wonder and such love,
that '' he that feeleth it may not have
it suspect." But all other abnormal
experiences — *' comforts, sounds and

24 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

gladness, and sweetness, that come
from without suddenly " — should be
set aside, as more often resulting in
frenzies and feebleness of spirit than
in genuine increase of '* ghostly
strength."

This healthy and manly view of the
mystical life, as a growth towards God,
a right employment of the will, rather
than a short cut to hidden know-
ledge or supersensual experience, is
one of the strongest characteristics
of the writer of the Cloud ; and con-
stitutes perhaps his greatest claim on
our respect. ** Mean only God," he
says again and again ; '' Press upon
Him with longing love " ; *' A good will
is the substance of all perfection." To
those who have this good will, he
offers his teaching : pointing out the
dangers in their way, the errors of
mood and of conduct into which they
may fall. They are to set about this
spiritual work not only with energy,
but with courtesy : not '' snatching as it
were a greedy greyhound " at spiritual

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 25

satisfactions, but gently and joyously
pressing towards Him Whom Julian
of Norwich called ** our most courteous
Lord." A glad spirit of dalliance is
more becoming to them than the grim
determination of the fanatic.

" Shall I, a gnat which dances in Thy ray,
Dare to be reverent."

Further, he communicates to them
certain '' ghostly devices " by which
they may overcome the inevitable
difficulties encountered by beginners
in contemplation : the distracting
thoughts and memories which torment
the self that is struggling to focus all
its attention upon the spiritual sphere.
The stern repression of such thoughts,
however spiritual, he knows to be
essential to success : even sin, once it
is repented of, must be forgotten in
order that Perfect Goodness may be
known. The '' little word God," and
** the little word Love," are the only
ideas which may dwell in the contem-
plative's mind. Anything else splits
his attention, and soon proceeds by

24 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

gladness, and sweetness, that come
from without suddenly " — should be
set aside, as more often resulting in
frenzies and feebleness of spirit than
in genuine increase of '' ghostly
strength."

This healthy and manly view of the
mystical life, as a growth towards God,
a right employment of the will, rather
than a short cut to hidden know-
ledge or supersensual experience, is
one of the strongest characteristics
of the writer of the Cloud ; and con-
stitutes perhaps his greatest claim on
our respect. ** Mean only God," he
says again and again ; " Press upon
Him with longing love " ; ''A good will
is the substance of all perfection." To
those who have this good will, he
offers his teaching : pointing out the
dangers in their way, the errors of
mood and of conduct into which they
may fall. They are to set about this
spiritual work not only with energy,
but with courtesy : not '* snatching as it
were a greedy greyhound " at spiritual

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 25

satisfactions, but gently and joyously
pressing towards Him Whom Julian
of Norwich called *' our most courteous
Lord." A glad spirit of dalliance is
more becoming to them than the grim
determination of the fanatic.

" Shall I, a gnat which dances in Thy ray,
Dare to be reverent."

Further, he communicates to them
certain *' ghostly devices " by which
they may overcome the inevitable
difficulties encountered by beginners
in contemplation : the distracting
thoughts and memories which torment
the self that is struggling to focus all
its attention upon the spiritual sphere.
The stern repression of such thoughts,
however spiritual, he knows to be
essential to success : even sin, once it
is repented of, must be forgotten in
order that Perfect Goodness may be
known. The '* little word God," and
** the little word Love," are the only
ideas which may dwell in the contem-
plative's mind. Anything else splits
his attention, and soon proceeds by

26 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

mental association to lead him further
and further from the consideration of
that supersensual Reality which he
seeks.

The primal need of the purified soul,
then, is the power of Concentration.
His whole being must be set towards
the Object of his craving if he is to
attain to it : '' Look that nothing live in
thy working mind, but a naked intent
stretching into God." Any thought
of Him is inadequate, and for that
reason defeats its own end — a doctrine,
of course, directly traceable to the
** Mystical Theology " of Dionysius the
Areopagite. " Of God Himself can no
man think," says the writer of the
G/oud, '' And therefore I would leave all
that thing that I can think, and choose
to my love that thing that I cannot
think." The universes which are
amenable to the intellect can never
satisfy the instincts of the heart.

Further, there is to be no wilful
choosing of method : no fussy activity
of the surface - intelligence. The

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 27

mystic who seeks the divine Cloud of
Unknowing is to be surrendered to the
direction of his deeper mind, his trans-
cendental consciousness : that *' spark
of the soul " which is in touch with
eternal realities. '* Meddle thou not
therewith, as thou wouldest help it, for
dread lest thou spill all. Be thou but
the tree, and let it be the wright : be
thou but the house, and let it be the
husbandman dwelling therein."

In the Epistle of Privy Counsel
there is a passage which expresses
with singular completeness the author^s
theory of this contemplative art — this
silent yet ardent encounter of the soul
with God. Prayer, said Mechthild
of Magdeburg, brings together two
lovers, God and the soul, in a narrow
room where they speak much of love :
and here the rules which govern that
meeting are laid down by a master's
hand. '* When thou comest by thy-
self," he says, ** think not before what
thou shalt do after, but forsake as well
good thoughts as evil thoughts, and

28 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

pray not with thy mouth but list thee
right well. And then if thou aught
shalt say, look not how much nor how
little that it be, nor weigh not what it is
nor what it bemeaneth . . . and look
that nothing live in thy working mind
but a naked intent stretching into God,
not clothed in any special thought of
God in Himself. . . . This naked in-
tent freely fastened and grounded in
very belief shall be nought else to thy
thought and to thy feeling but a naked
thought and a blind feeling of thine
own being : as if thou saidest thus un-
to God, within in thy meaning, ' That
what I am, Lord, I offer unto Thee,
without any looking to any quality of
Thy Being, but only that Thou art as
Thou art, without any more.' That
meek darkness be thy mirror, and
thy whole remembrance. Think no
further of thyself than I bid thee do of
thy God, so that thou be one with Him
in spirit, as thus without departing
and scattering, for He is thy being,
and in Him thou art that thou art ;

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 29

not only by cause and by being, but
also, He is in thee both thy cause and
thy being. And therefore think on
God in this work as thou dost on thy-
self, and on thyself as thou dost on
God : that He is as He is and thou
art as thou art, and that thy thought
be not scattered nor departed, but
proved in Him that is All."

The conception of reality which
underlies this profound and beautiful
passage, has much in common with
that found in the work of many other
mystics ; since it is ultimately derived
from the great Neoplatonic philosophy
of the contemplative life. But the
writer invests it, I think, with a deeper
and wider meaning than it is made to
bear in the writings even of Ruys-
broeck, St Teresa, or St John of the
Cross. '' For He is thy being, and in
Him thou art that thou art ; not only
by cause and by being, but also. He
is in thee both thy cause and thy
being." It was a deep thinker as well
as a great lover who wrote this : one

30 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

who joined hands with the philoso-
phers, as well as with the saints.

* * That meek darkness be thy mirror. * '
What is this darkness ? It is the
** night of the intellect " into which
we are plunged when we attain to a
state of consciousness which is above
thought ; enter on a plane of spiritual
experience with which the intellect
cannot deal. This is the " Divine
Darkness " — the Cloud of Unknowing,
or of Ignorance, ** dark with excess of
light " — preached by Dionysius the
Areopagite, and eagerly accepted by
his English interpreter. " When I say
darkness, I mean a lacking of know-
ing . . . and for this reason it is not
called a cloud of the air, but a cloud
of unknowing that is betwixt thee
and thy God." It is *' a dark mist,"
he says again, " which seemeth to
be between thee and the light thou
aspirest to." This dimness and lost-
ness of mind is a paradoxical proof of
attainment. Reason is in the dark,
because love has entered " the mys-

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 31

terious radiance of the Divine Dark,
the inaccessible light wherein the Lord
is said to dwell, and to which thought
with all its struggles cannot attain."

** Lovers,'* said Patmore, ** put out
the candles and draw the curtains,
when they wish to see the god and the
goddess ; and, in the higher com-
munion, the night of thought is the
light of perception." These state-
ments cannot be explained : they can
only be proved in the experience of
the individual soul. " Whoso deserves
to see and know God rests therein,"
says Dionysius of that darkness, '* and,
by the very fact that he neither sees
nor knows, is truly in that which sur-
passes all truth and all knowledge."

** Then," says the writer of the Cloud
— whispering as it were to the be-
wildered neophyte the dearest secret
of his love — ^' then will He sometimes
peradventure send out a beam of
ghostly light, piercing this cloud of
unknowing that is betwixt thee and
Him ; and show thee some of His

32 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

privity, the which man may not, nor
cannot speak."

• ••••••

Numerous copies of the Cloud of
Unhnowing and the other works attri-
buted to its writer are in existence.
Six manuscripts of the Cloud are in
the British Museum : four on vellum
(Harl. 674, Harl. 959, Harl. 2373, and
Royal 17 C. xxvi.), all of the 15th cen-
tury ; and two on paper (Royal 17 C.
xxvii. of the i6th century, and Royal
17 D. V. late 15th century). All these
agree fairly closely ; except for the
facts that Harl. 2373 is incomplete,
several pages having disappeared,
and that Harl. 959 gives the sub-
stance of the whole work in a slightly
shortened form. The present edition
is based upon Harl. 674 ; which has
been transcribed and collated with
Royal 17 C. xxvi., and in the case
of specially obscure passages with
Royal 17 C. xxvii.. Royal 17 D. v., and
Harl. 2373. Obvious errors and omis-
sions have been corrected, and several

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 33

obscure readings elucidated, from
these sources.

The Cloud of Unknowing was known,
and read, by English Catholics as
late as the middle or end of the 17th
century. It was much used by the
celebrated Benedictine ascetic, the
Venerable Augustine Baker (1575-
1641), who wrote a long exposition of
the doctrine which it contains. Two
manuscripts of this treatise exist in
the Benedictine College of St Laur-
ence at Ampleforth ; together with a
transcript of the Cloud of Unknowing
dated 1677. Many references to it will
also be found in the volume called
Holy Wisdom, which contains the sub-
stances of Augustine Baker's writings
on the inner life. The Cloud has only
once been printed : in 187 1, by the Rev.
Henry Collins, under the title of The
Divine Cloud, with a preface and notes
attributed to Augustine Baker and
probably taken from the treatise
mentioned above. This edition is now
out of print. The MS. from which it

3

34 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

was made is unknown to us. It differs
widely, both in the matter of additions
and of omissions, from all the texts in
the British Museum, and represents
a distinctly inferior recension of the
work. A mangled rendering of the
sublime Epistle of Priuy Counsel is pre-
fixed to it. Throughout, the pithy
sayings of the original are either
misquoted, or expanded into con-
ventional and flavourless sentences.
Numerous explanatory phrases for
which our manuscripts give no auth-
ority have been incorporated into the
text. All the quaint and humorous
turns of speech are omitted or toned
down. The responsibility for these
crimes against scholarship cannot now
be determined ; but it seems likely that
the text from which Father Collins'
edition was — in his own words —
** mostly taken " was a 17th-century
paraphrase, made rather in the in-
terests of edification than of accuracy ;
and that it represents the form in
which the work was known and used

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 35

by Augustine Baker and his con-
temporaries.

The other works attributed to the
author of the Cloud have fared better
than this. Dionise Hid Diuinite still
remains in MS. : but the Epist/e of
Prayer J the Epistle of Discretion , and
the Treatise of Discerning of Spirits^
together with the paraphrase of the
Benjamin Minor of Richard of St Victor
which is supposed to be by the same
hand, were included by Henry Pepwell,
in 1521, in a little volume of seven
mystical tracts. These are now acces-
sible to the general reader ; having
been reprinted in the *' New Mediaeval
Library " (1910) under the title of The
Cell of Self-knowledge , with an admirable
introduction and notes by Mr Edmund
Gardner. Mr Gardner has collated
Pepwell's text with that contained in
the British Museum manuscript Harl.
674 ; the same volume which has pro-
vided the base-manuscript for the
present edition of the Cloud,

This edition is intended, not for the

36 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

student of Middle English, nor for the
specialist in mediaeval literature ; but
for the general reader and lover of
mysticism. My object has been to pro-
duce a readable text, free from learned
and critical apparatus. The spell-
ing has therefore been modernised
throughout : and except in a few in-
stances, where phrases of a special
charm or quaintness, or the allitera-
tive passages so characteristic of the
author's style, demanded their reten-
tion, obsolete words have been re-
placed by their nearest modern equiva-
lents. One such word, however, which
occurs constantly, has generally been
retained, on account of its importance
and the difficulty of finding an exact
substitute for it in current English.
This is the verb ** to list," with its ad-
jective and adverb "listy" and ''listily,"
and the substantive **list," derived
from it. *' List " is best understood by
comparison with its opposite, '* list-
less." It implies a glad and eager
activity, or sometimes an energetic

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING ^^37

desire or craving : the wish and the
will to do something. The noun often
stands for pleasure or delight, the
adverb for the willing and joyous
performance of an action : the ** put-
ting of one's heart into one's work."
The modern '' lust," from the same
root, suggests a violence which was
expressly excluded from the Middle
English meaning of ** list."

My heartiest thanks are due to Mr
David Inward, who transcribed the
manuscript on which this version is
based, and throughout has given me
skilled and untiring assistance in solv-
ing many of the problems which arose
in connection with it ; and to Mr J. A.
Herbert, Assistant-keeper of Manu-
scripts in the British Museum, who
has read the proofs, and also dated
the manuscripts of the Cloud for the
purposes of the present edition, and
to whose expert knowledge and un-
failing kindness I owe a deep debt of
gratitude.

EVELYN UNDERHILL.

Here beginneth a book of con-
templation, the which is called
the CLOUD OF UNKNOW-
ING, in the which a soul is
oned with GOD.

41

Here Beginneth the Prayer
on the Prologue

GOD, unto whom all hearts be open,
and unto whom all will speaketh, and
unto whom no privy thing is hid. I
beseech Thee so for to cleanse the
intent of mine heart with the unspeak-
able gift of Thy grace, that I may
perfectly love Thee, and worthily praise
Thee. Amen.

43

Here Beginneth the Prologue

IN the name of the Father and of the
Son and of the Holy Ghost ! I charge
thee and I beseech thee, with as much
power and virtue as the bond of charity
is sufficient to suffer, whatsoever thou
be that this book shalt have in posses-
sion, either by property, either by
keeping, by bearing as messenger, or
else by borrowing, that in as much as
in thee is by will and advisement,
neither thou read it, nor write it, nor
speak it, nor yet suffer it be read,
written, or spoken, of any or to any
but if it be of such one, or to such one,
that hath by thy supposing in a true
will and by an whole intent purposed
him to be a perfect follower of Christ
not only in active living, but in the

45

46 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

sovereignest point of contemplative
living the which is possible by grace
for to be come to in this present life
of a perfect soul yet abiding in this
deadly body ; and thereto that doth
that in him is, and by thy supposing
hath done long time before, for to able
him to contemplative living by the
virtuous means of active living. For
else it accordeth nothing to him. And
over this I charge thee and I beseech
thee by the authority of charity, that
if any such shall read it, write it, or
speak it, or else hear it be read or
spoken, that thou charge him as I do \
thee, for to take him time to read it,
speak it, write it, or hear it, all over.
For peradventure there is some matter
therein in the beginning or in the
middle, the which is hanging, and not
fully declared where it standeth : and
if it be not there, it is soon after, or
else in the end. Wherefore if a man
saw one matter and not another, per-
adventure he might lightly be led into
error ii and therefore in eschewing of

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 47

this error, both in thyself and in all
other, I pray thee for charity do as I
say thee.

Fleshly j anglers, open praisers and
blamers of themselves or of any other,
tellers of trifles, ronners and tattlers
of tales, and all manner of pinchers,
cared I never that they saw this book.
For mine intent was never to write
such thing unto them, and therefore I
would that they meddle not therewith ;
neither they, nor any of these curious,
lettered, or unlearned men. Yea, al-
though that they be full good men
of active living, yet this matter accord-
eth nothing to them. But if it be to
those men, the which although they
stand in activity by outward form of
living, nevertheless yet by inward
stirring after the privy spirit of God,
whose dooms be hid, they be full
graciously disposed, not continually
as it is proper to very contemplatives,
but now and then to be perceivers in
the highest point of this contemplative
act ; if such men might see it, they

48 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

should by the grace of God be greatly
comforted thereby.

This book is distinguished in
seventy chapters and five. Of the
which chapters, the last chapter of all
teacheth some certain tokens by the
which a soul may verily prove whether
he be called of God to be a worker in
this work or none.

Here Beginneth a Table of
the Chapters

THE FIRST CHAPTER

PAGE

Of four degrees of Christian men's living ;
and of the course of his calling that
this book was made unto ... 65

THE SECOND CHAPTER

A short stirring to meekness, and to the

work of this book .... 68

THE THIRD CHAPTER

How the work of this book shall be
wrought, and of the worthiness of it
before all other works . . 71

THE FOURTH CHAPTER

Of the shortness of this work, and how it
may not be come to by the curiosity of
wit, nor by imagination ... 74

THE FIFTH CHAPTER

That in the time of this work all the
creatures that ever have been, be
now, or ever shall be, and all the
works of those same creatures, should
be hid under the cloud of forgetting . 85

49 4

50 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

THE SIXTH CHAPTER

PAGE

A short conceit of the work of this book,

treated by question . . . . 88

THE SEVENTH CHAPTER

How a man shall have him in this work
against all thoughts, and specially
against all those that arise of his own
curiosity, of cunning, and of natural wit 90

THE EIGHTH CHAPTER

A good declaring of certain doubts that
may fall in this work, treated by ques-
tion, in destroying of a man's own
curiosity, of cunning, and of natural
wit, and in distinguishing of the
degrees and the parts of active living
and contemplative .... 95

THE NINTH CHAPTER

That in the time of this work the remem-
brance of the holiest creature that ever
God made letteth more than it profiteth 103

THE TENTH CHAPTER

How a man shall know when his thought
is no sin ; and if it be sin, when it is
deadly and when it is venial .107

THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER

That a man should weigh each thought
and each stirring after that it is, and
always eschew recklessness in venial
sin .III

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 51

THE TWELFTH CHAPTER

PAGE

That by virtue of this work sin is not only

destroyed, but also virtues begotten . 113

THE THIRTEENTH CHAPTER

What meekness is in itself, and when it is

perfect and when it is imperfect . . 116

THE FOURTEENTH CHAPTER

That without imperfect meekness coming
before, it is impossible for a sinner to
come to the perfect virtue of meekness
in this life . . . . . .119

THE FIFTEENTH CHAPTER

A short proof against their error that say,
that there is no perfecter cause to be
meeked under, than is the knowledge
of a man's own wretchedness . . 123

THE SIXTEENTH CHAPTER

That by virtue of this work a sinner truly
turned and called to contemplation
Cometh sooner to perfection than by
any other work ; and by it soonest
may get of God forgiveness of sins . 126

THE SEVENTEENTH CHAPTER

That a very contemplative list not meddle
him with active life, nor of anything
that is done or spoken about him, nor
yet to answer to his blamers in excus-
ing of himself 131

52 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

THE EIGHTEENTH CHAPTER

PAGE

How that yet unto this day all actives
complain of contemplatives as Martha
did of Mary. Of the which complain-
ing ignorance is the cause . . .134

THE NINETEENTH CHAPTER

A short excusation of him that made this
book, teaching how all contemplatives
should have all actives fully excused of
their complaining words and deeds . 137

THE TWENTIETH CHAPTER

How Almighty God will goodly answer
for all those that for the excusing of
themselves list not leave their business
about the love of Him . .140

THE ONE AND TWENTIETH
CHAPTER

The true exposition of this gospel word,

" Mary hath chosen the best part " . 144

THE TWO AND TWENTIETH
CHAPTER

Of the wonderful love that Christ had to
man in person of all sinners truly
turned and called to the grace of con-
templation . .148

THE THREE AND TWENTIETH
CHAPTER

How God will answer and purvey for
them in spirit, that for business about
His love list not answer nor purvey for
themselves . . . . . .151

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 53

THE FOUR AND TWENTIETH
CHAPTER

PAGE

What charity is in itself, and how it is
truly and perfectly contained in the
work of this book . . . . -155

THE FIVE AND TWENTIETH
CHAPTER

That in the time of this work a perfect soul
hath no special beholding to any one
man in this life . . . .158

THE SIX AND TWENTIETH
CHAPTER

That without full special grace, or long use
in common grace, the work of this
book is right travailous ; and in this
work, which is the work of the soul
helped by grace, and which -is the work
of only God 162

THE SEVEN AND TWENTIETH
CHAPTER

Who should work in the gracious work of

this book ...... 166

THE EIGHT AND TWENTIETH
CHAPTER

That a man should not presume to work in
this work before the time that he be
lawfully cleansed in conscience of all
his special deeds of sin . . . . 167

54 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

THE NINE AND TWENTIETH
CHAPTER

rxce

That a man should bidingly travail in this
work, and suffer the pain thereof, and
judge no man ..... 169

THE THIRTIETH CHAPTER

Who should blame and condemn other

men's defaults .171

THE ONE AND THIRTIETH
CHAPTER

How a man should have him in beginning
of this work against all thoughts and
stirrings of sin ,172

THE TWO AND THIRTIETH
CHAPTER

Of two ghostly devices that be helpful
to a ghostly beginner in the work of
this book .174

THE THREE AND THIRTIETH
CHAPTER

That in this work a soul is cleansed both
of his special sins and of the pain of
them, and yet how there is no perfect
rest in this life . . .177

THE FOUR AND THIRTIETH
CHAPTER

That God giveth this grace freely without
any means, and that it may not be come
to with means .180

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 55

THE FIVE AND THIRTIETH
CHAPTER

PAGE

Of three means in the which a contempla-
tive prentice should be occupied ; in
reading, thinking, and praying . .185

THE SIX AND THIRTIETH
CHAPTER

Of the meditations of them that continually

travail in the work of this book . . 188

THE SEVEN AND THIRTIETH
CHAPTER

Of the special prayers of them that be con-
tinual workers in the work of this
book 190

THE EIGHT AND THIRTIETH
CHAPTER

How and why that short prayer pierceth

heaven 193

THE NINE AND THIRTIETH
CHAPTER

How a perfect worker shall pray, and what
prayer is in itself ; and, if a man shall
pray in words, which words accord
them most to the property of prayer . 196

THE FORTIETH CHAPTER

That in the time of this work a soul hath
no special beholding to any vice in
itself nor to any virtue in itself . . 199

56 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

THE ONE AND FORTIETH
CHAPTER

PACE

That in all other works beneath this, men
should keep discretion ; but in this
none ....... 202

THE TWO AND FORTIETH
CHAPTER

That by indiscretion in this, men shall keep
discretion in all other things ; and
surely else never ..... 205

THE THREE AND FORTIETH
CHAPTER

That all writing and feeling of a man's
own being must needs be lost if the
perfection of this work shall verily be
felt in any soul in this life . . . 207

THE FOUR AND FORTIETH
CHAPTER

How a soul shall dispose it on its own
part, for to destroy all witting and
feeling of its own being . . . 210

THE FIVE AND FORTIETH
CHAPTER

A good declaring of some certain deceits

that may befall in this work 214

THE SIX AND FORTIETH
CHAPTER

A good teaching how a man shall flee these
deceits, and work more with a listiness

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 57

PAGE

of spirit than with any boisterousness

of body 218

THE SEVEN AND FORTIETH
CHAPTER

A slight teaching of this work in purity of
spirit ; declaring how that on one
manner a soul should shew his desire
unto God, and on ye contrary, unto
man ....... 220

THE EIGHT AND FORTIETH
CHAPTER

How God will be served both with body
and with soul, and reward men in both ;
and how men shall know when all
those sounds and sweetness that fall
into the body in time of prayer be both
good and evil 224

THE NINE AND FORTIETH
CHAPTER .

The substance of all perfection is nought
else but a good will ; and how that all
sounds and comforts and sweetness
that may befall in this life be to it but
as it were accidents .... 228

THE FIFTIETH CHAPT2R

Which is chaste love ; and how in some
creatures such sensible comforts be but
seldom, and in some right oft . . 230

THE ONE AND FIFTIETH
CHAPTER

That men should have great wariness
so that they understand not bodily

58 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

a thing that is meant ghostly ; and
specially it is good to be wary in under-
standing of this word in, and of this
word up ...... 233

THE TWO AND FIFTIETH
CHAPTER

How these young presumptuous disciples
misunderstand this word in, and of the
deceits that follow thereon 237

THE THREE AND FIFTIETH
CHAPTER

Of divers unseemly practices that follow

them that lack the work of this book . 239

THE FOUR AND FIFTIETH
CHAPTER

How that by virtue of this work a man is
governed full wisely, and made full
seemly as well in body as in soul . 244

THE FIVE AND FIFTIETH
CHAPTER

How they be deceived that follow the
fervour of spirit in condemning of some
without discretion .... 248

THE SIX AND FIFTIETH
CHAPTER

How they be deceived that lean more to
the curiosity of natural wit, and of
clergy learned in the school of men,
than to the common doctrine and
counsel of Holy Church 252

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 59

THE SEVEN AND FIFTIETH
CHAPTER

PAGE

How these young presumptuous disciples
misunderstand this other word up;
and of the deceits that follow thereon . 254

THE EIGHT AND FIFTIETH
CHAPTER

That a man shall not take ensample of
Saint Martin and of Saint Stephen,
for to strain his imagination bodily
upwards in the time of his prayer . 257

THE NINE AND FIFTIETH
CHAPTER

That a man shall not take ensample at the
bodily ascension of Christ, for to strain
his imagination upwards bodily in the
time of prayer : and that time, place,
and body, these three should be for-
gotten in all ghostly working . 263

THE SIXTIETH CHAPTER

That the high and the next way to heaven
is run by desires, and not by paces of
feet 267

THE ONE AND SIXTIETH
CHAPTER

That all bodily thing is subject unto
ghostly thing, and is ruled thereafter
by the course of nature, and not con-
trariwise ...... 270

6o CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

THE TWO AND SIXTIETH
CHAPTER

PAGE

How a man may wit when his ghostly
work is beneath him or without him,
and when it is even with him or within
him, and when it is above him and
under his God ..... 273

THE THREE AND SIXTIETH
CHAPTER

Of the powers of a soul in general, and how
Memory in special is a principal power,
comprehending in it all the other
powers and all those things in the
which they work ..... 275

THE FOUR AND SIXTIETH
CHAPTER

Of the other two principal powers. Reason
and Will ; and of the work of them
before sin and after .... 278

THE FIVE AND SIXTIETH
CHAPTER

Of the first secondary power, Imagination
by name ; and of the works and of the
obedience of it unto Reason, before sin
and after ...... 280

THE SIX AND SIXTIETH
CHAPTER

Of the other secondary power, Sensuality
by name ; and of the works and of the
obedience of it unto Will, before sin and
after 282

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 6i

THE SEVEN AND SIXTIETH
CHAPTER

PAGE

That whoso knoweth not the powers of a
soul and the manner of her working,
may Hghtly be deceived in understand-
ing of ghostly words and of ghostly
working ; and how a soul is made a
God in grace ..... 285

THE EIGHT AND SIXTIETH
CHAPTER

That nowhere bodily, is everywhere ghostly ;
and how our outer man calleth the
work of this book nought . . , 289

THE NINE AND SIXTIETH
CHAPTER

How that a man's affection is marvellously
changed in ghostly feeling of this
nought, when it is nowhere wrought . 292

THE SEVENTIETH CHAPTER

That right as by the defailing of our bodily
wits we begin more readily to come to
knowing of ghostly things, so by the
defailing of our ghostly wits we begin
most readily to come to the knowledge
of God, such as is possible by grace
to be had here ..... 295

THE ONE AND SEVENTIETH
CHAPTER

That some may not come to feel the per-
fection of this work but in time of
ravishing, and some may have it when

62 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

PAGE

they will, in the common state of man's

soul ....... 299

THE TWO AND SEVENTIETH
CHAPTER

That a worker in this work should not
deem nor think of another worker as
he feeleth in himself .... 303

THE THREE AND SEVENTIETH
CHAPTER

How that after the likeness of Moses, of
Bezaleel, and of Aaron meddling them
about the Ark of the Testament, we
profit on three manners in this grace
of contemplation, for this grace is
figured in that Ark .... 305

THE FOUR AND SEVENTIETH
CHAPTER

How that the matter of this book is never
more read or spoken, nor heard read
or spoken, of a soul disposed thereto
without feeling of a very accordance
to the effect of the same work : and of
rehearsing of the same charge that is
written in the prologue . . . 308

THE FIVE AND SEVENTIETH
CHAPTER

Of some certain tokens by the which a man
may prove whether he be called of
God to work in this work .311

AND HERE ENDETH THE TABLE
OF THE CHAPTERS

GHOSTLY FRIEND IN GOD,
I pray thee and I beseech thee that
thou wilt have a busy beholding to the
course and the manner of thy calling.
And thank God heartily so that thou
mayest through help of His grace
stand stiffly in the state, in the
degree, and in the form of living that
thou hast entirely purposed against
all the subtle assailing of thy bodily
and ghostly enemies, and win to the
crown of life that evermore lasteth.
Amen.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
FIRST CHAPTER

Of four degrees of Christian men's living ;
and of the course of his calling that this
boob was made unto.

GHOSTLY friend in God, thou shalt
well understand that I find, in my
boisterous beholding, four degrees
and forms of Christian men's living :
and they be these, Common, Special,
Singular, and Perfect. Three of these
may be begun and ended in this life ;
and the fourth may by grace be begun
here, but it shall ever last without end
in the bliss of Heaven. And right as
thou seest how they be set here in
order each one after other ; first
Common, then Special, after Singular,
and last Perfect, right so me thinketh
that in the same order and in the same
course our Lord hath of His great

65 5

66 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

mercy called thee and led thee unto
Him by the desire of thine heart. For
first thou wottest well that when thou
wert living in the common degree of
Christian men's living in company of
thy worldly friends, it seemeth to me
that the everlasting love of His God-
head, through the which He made
thee and wrought thee when thou
wert nought, and sithen bought thee
with the price of His precious blood
when thou wert lost in Adam, might
not suffer thee to be so far from Him
in form and degree of living. And
therefore He kindled thy desire full
graciously, and fastened by it a leash
of longing, and led thee by it into a
more special state and form of living,
to be a servant among the special
servants of His ; where thou mightest
learn to live more specially and more
ghostly in His service than thou didst,
or mightest do, in the common degree
of living before. And what more ?

Yet it seemeth that He would not
leave thee thus lightly, for love of His

1

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 67

heart, the which He hath evermore
had unto thee since thou wert aught :
but what did He ? Seest thou nought
how listily and how graciously He
hath privily pulled thee to the third
degree and manner of living, the
which is called Singular ? In the
which solitary form and manner of
living, thou mayest learn to lift up
the foot of thy love ; and step towards
that state and degree of living that is
perfect, and the last state of all.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
SECOND CHAPTER

A short stirring to meekness, and to the
work of this book.

LOOK up now, weak wretch, and see
what thou art. What art thou, and
what hast thou merited, thus to be
called of our Lord ? What weary
wretched heart, and sleeping in sloth,
is that, the which is not wakened with
the draught of this love and the voice
of this calling ! Beware, thou wretch,
in this while with thine enemy ; and
hold thee never the holier nor the
better, for the worthiness of this call-
ing and for the singular form of liv-
ing that thou art in. But the more
wretched and cursed, unless thou do
that in thee is goodly, by grace and
by counsel, to live after thy calling.
And insomuch thou shouldest be more

68

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 69

meek and loving to thy ghostly spouse,
that He that is the Almighty God,
King of Kings and Lord of Lords,
would meek Him so low unto thee,
and amongst all the flock of His sheep
so graciously would choose thee to be
one of His specials, and sithen set
thee in the place of pasture, where
thou mayest be fed with the sweetness
of His love, in earnest of thine heritage
the Kingdom of Heaven.

Do on then, I pray thee, fast. Look
now forwards and let be backwards ;
and see what thee faileth, and not
what thou hast, for that is the readiest
getting and keeping of meekness. All
thy life now behoveth altogether to
stand in desire, if thou shalt profit
in degree of perfection. This desire
behoveth altogether be wrought in
thy will, by the hand of Almighty God
and thy consent. But one thing I
tell thee. He is a jealous lover and
suffereth no fellowship, and Him list
not work in thy will but if He be only
with thee by Himself. He asketh

70 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

none help, but only thyself. He wills,
thou do but look on Him and let Him
alone. And keep thou the windows
and the door, for flies and enemies
assailing. And if thou be willing to
do this, thee needeth but meekly press
upon Him with prayer, and soon will
He help thee. Press on then, let see
how thou bearest thee. He is full
ready, and doth but abideth thee.
But what shait thou do, and how shalt
thou press ?

HERE BEGINNETH THE
THIRD CHAPTER

How the work of this book shall be wrought^
and of the worthiness of it before all
other works.

LIFT up thine heart unto God with
a meek stirring of love ; and mean
Himself, and none of His goods. And
thereto, look thee loath to think on
aught but Himself. So that nought
work in thy wit, nor in thy will, but
only Himself. And do that in thee is
to forget all the creatures that ever
God made and the works of them ; so
that thy thought nor thy desire be not
directed nor stretched to any of them,
neither in general nor in special, but
let them be, and take no heed to them.
This is the work of the soul that most
pleaseth God. All saints and angels
have joy of this work, and hasten them

71

72 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

to help it in all their might. All fiends
be furious when thou thus dost, and
try for to defeat it in all that they can.
All men living in earth be wonderfully
holpen of this work, thou wottest not
how. Yea, the souls in purgatory be
eased of their pain by virtue of this
work. Thyself art cleansed and made
virtuous by no work so much. And
yet it is the lightest work of all, when
a soul is helped with grace in sensible
list, and soonest done. But else it is
hard, and wonderful to thee for to do.
Let not, therefore, but travail therein
till thou feel list. For at the first time
when thou dost it, thou findest but a
darkness ; and as it were a cloud of
unknowing, thou knowest not what,
saving that thou feelest in thy will a
naked intent unto God. This dark-
ness and this cloud is, howsoever thou
dost, betwixt thee and thy God, and
letteth thee that thou mayest neither
see Him clearly by light of under-
standing in thy reason, nor feel Him
in sweetness of love in thine affection.

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 73

And therefore shape thee to bide in
this darkness as long as thou mayest,
evermore crying after Him that thou
lovest. For if ever thou shalt feel Him
or see Him, as it may be here, it be-
hoveth always to be in this cloud in
this darkness. And if thou wilt busily
travail as I bid thee, I trust in His
mercy that thou shalt come thereto.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
FOURTH CHAPTER

Of the shortness of this worh^ and how it
may not be come to by curiosity of wity nor
by imagination.

BUT for this, that thou shalt not err
in this working and ween that it be
otherwise than it is, I shall tell thee a
little more thereof, as me thinketh.

This work asketh no long time or
it be once truly done, as some men
ween ; for it is the shortest work of
all that man may imagine. It is never
longer, nor shorter, than is an atom :
the which atom, by the definition of
true philosophers in the science of
astronomy, is the least part of time.
And it is so little that for the littleness
of it, it is indivisible and nearly incom-
prehensible. This is that time of the
which it is written : All time that is

74

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 75

given to thee, it shall be asked of thee,
how thou hast dispended it. And
reasonable thing it is that thou give
account of it : for it is neither longer
nor shorter, but even according to one
only stirring that is within the principal
working might of thy soul, the which
is thy will. For even so many willings
or desirings, and no more nor no fewer,
may be and are in one hour in thy will,
as are atoms in one hour. And if thou
wert reformed by grace to the first
state of man's soul, as it was before
sin, then thou shouldest evermore by
help of that grace be lord of that stir-
ring or of those stirrings. So that
none went forby, but all they should
stretch into the sovereign desirable,
and into the highest willable thing :
the which is God. For He is even
meet to our soul by measuring of His
Godhead ; and our soul even meet unto
Him by worthiness of our creation to
His image and to His likeness. And
He by Himself without more, and none
but He, is sufficient to the full and

76 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

much more to fulfil the will and the
desire of our soul. And our soul by
virtue of this reforming grace is made
sufficient to the full to comprehend all
Him by love, the which is incompre-
hensible to all created knowledgeable
powers, as is angel, or man's soul ; I
mean, by their knowing, and not by
their loving. And therefore I call
them in this case knowledgeable
powers. But yet all reasonable crea-
tures, angel and man, have in them each
one by himself, one principal working
power, the which is called a know-
ledgeable power, and another principal
working power, the which is called a
loving power. Of the which two
powers, to the first, the which is a
knowledgeable power, God that is the
maker of them is evermore incompre-
hensible ; and to the second, the which
is the loving power, in each one di-
versely He is all comprehensible to the
full. Insomuch that a loving soul alone
in itself, by virtue of love should com-
prehend in itself Him that is sufficient

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 77

to the full — and much more, without
comparison — to fill all the souls and
angels that ever may be. And this
is the endless marvellous miracle of
love ; the working of which shall never
take end, for ever shall He do it, and
never shall He cease for to do it. See
who by grace see may, for the feeling
of this is endless bliss, and the con-
trary is endless pain.

And therefore whoso were reformed
by grace thus to continue in keeping
of the stirrings of his will, should
never be in this life — as he may not
be without these stirrings in nature —
without some taste of the endless
sweetness, and in the bliss of heaven
without the full food. And therefore
have no wonder though I stir thee to
this work. For this is the work, as
thou shalt hear afterward, in the
which man should have continued if
he never had sinned : and to the which
working man was made, and all things
for man, to help him and further him
thereto, and by the which working a

78 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

man shall be repaired again. And for
the defailing of this working, a man
falleth evermore deeper and deeper
in sin, and further and further from
God. And by keeping and continual
working in this work only without
more, a man evermore riseth higher
and higher from sin, and nearer and
nearer unto God.

And therefore take good heed unto
time, how that thou dispendest it : for
nothing is more precious than time.
In one little time, as little as it is, may
heaven be won and lost. A token it
is that time is precious : for God, that
is given of time, giveth never two times
together, but each one after other.
And this He doth, for He will not
reverse the order or the ordinal course
in the cause of His creation. For
time is made for man, and not man for
time. And therefore God, that is the
ruler of nature, will not in His giving
of time go before the stirring of nature
in man's soul ; the which is even ac-
cording to one time only. So that man

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 79

shall have none excusation against
God in the Doom, and at the giving of
account of dispending of time, saying,
** Thou givest two times at once, and
I have but one stirring at once."

But sorrowfully thou sayest now,
** How shall I do ? and sith this is thus
that thou sayest, how shall I give
account of each time severally ; I that
have unto this day, now of four and
twenty years age, never took heed
of time ? If I would now amend it,
thou wottest well, by very reason of
thy words written before, it may not
be after the course of nature, nor of
common grace, that I should now heed
or else make satisfaction, for any more
times than for those that be for to
come. Yea, and moreover well I wot
by very proof, that of those that be to
come I shall on no wise, for abundance
of frailty and slowness of spirits, be
able to observe one of an hundred.
So that I am verily concluded in these
reasons. Help me now for the love
of JESUS 1 "

8o CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

Right well hast thou said, for the
love of JESUS. For in the love of
JESUS ; there shall be thine help.
Love is such a power, that it maketh
all thing common. Love therefore
JESUS ; and all thing that He hath,
it is thine. He by His Godhead is
maker and giver of time. He by His
manhood is the very keeper of time.
And He by His Godhead and His man-
hood together, is the truest Dooms-
man, and the asker of account of
dispending of time. Knit thee there-
fore to Him, by love and by belief, and
then by virtue of that knot thou shalt
be common perceiver with Him, and
with all that by love so be knitted unto
Him : that is to say, with our Lady
Saint Mary that full was of all grace
in keeping of time, with all the angels
of heaven that never may lose time,
and with all the saints in heaven and
in earth, that by the grace of JESUS
heed time full justly in virtue of love.
Lo ! here lieth comfort ; construe thou
clearly, and pick thee some profit.

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 8i

But of one thing I warn thee amongst
all other. I cannot see who may
truly challenge community thus with
JESUS and His just Mother, His high
angels and also with His saints ; but
if he be such an one, that doth that
in him is with helping of grace in
keeping of time. So that he be seen
to be a profiter on his part, so little as
is, unto the community ; as each one
of them doth on his.

And therefore take heed to this
work, and to the marvellous manner of
it within in thy soul. For if it be truly
conceived, it is but a sudden stirring,
and as it were unadvised, speedily
springing unto God as a sparkle from
the coal. And it is marvellous to
number the stirrings that may be in
one hour wrought in a soul that is
disposed to this work. And yet in one
stirring of all these, he may have
suddenly and perfectly forgotten all
created thing. But fast after each
stirring, for corruption of the flesh,
it falleth down again to some thought

6

82 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

or to some done or undone deed. But
what thereof ? For fast after, it riseth
again as suddenly as it did before.

And here may men shortly conceive
the manner of this working, and clearly
know that it is far from any fantasy,
or any false imagination or quaint
opinion : the which be brought in, not
by such a devout and a meek blind
stirring of love, but by a proud, curi-
ous, and an imaginative wit. Such a
proud, curious wit behoveth always be
borne down and stiffly trodden down
under foot, if this work shall truly
be conceived in purity of spirit. For
whoso heareth this work either be read
or spoken of, and weeneth that it may,
or should, be come to by travail in
their wits, and therefore they sit and
seek in their wits how that it may be,
and in this curiosity they travail their
imagination peradventure against the
course of nature, and they feign a
manner of working the which is
neither bodily nor ghostly — truly this
man, whatsoever he be, is perilously

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 83

deceived. Insomuch, that unless God
of His great goodness shew His
merciful miracle, and make him soon
to leave work, and meek him to counsel
of proved workers, he shall fall either
into frenzies, or else into other great
mischiefs of ghostly sins and devils'
deceits ; through the which he may
lightly be lost, both life and soul,
without any end. And therefore for
God's love be wary in this work, and
travail not in thy wits nor in thy
imagination on nowise : for I tell thee
truly, it may not be come to by travail
in them, and therefore leave them and
work not with them.

And ween not, for I call it a darkness
or a cloud, that it be any cloud con-
gealed of the humours that flee in the
air, nor yet any darkness such as is
in thine house on nights when the
candle is out. For such -a darkness
and such a cloud mayest thou imagine
with curiosity of wit, for to bear before
thine eyes in the lightest day of
summer : and also contrariwise in the

84 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

darkest night of winter, thou mayest
imagine a clear shining light. Let be
such falsehood. I mean not thus.
For when I say darkness, I mean a
lacking of knowing : as all that thing
that thou knowest not, or else that
thou hast forgotten, it is dark to thee ;
for thou seest it not with thy ghostly
eye. And for this reason it is not
called a cloud of the air, but a cloud
of unknowing, that is betwixt thee
and thy God.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
FIFTH CHAPTER

That in the time of this tvor/i all the
creatures that euer have been^ be now, or
ever shall be, and all the works of those
same creatures, should be hid under the
cloud of forgetting,

AND if ever thou shalt come to this
cloud and dwell and work therein as I
bid thee, thee behoveth as this cloud
of unknowing is above thee, betwixt
thee and thy God, right so put a cloud
of forgetting beneath thee ; betwixt
thee and all the creatures that ever be
made. Thee thinketh, peradventure,
that thou art full far from God because
that this cloud of unknowing is betwixt
thee and thy God : but surely, an it be
well conceived, thou art well further
from Him when thou hast no cloud of
forgetting betwixt thee and all the

85

86 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

creatures that ever be made. As oft
as I say, all the creatures that ever
be made, as oft I mean not only the
creatures themselves, but also all the
works and the conditions of the same
creatures. I take out not one creature,
whether they be bodily creatures or
ghostly, nor yet any condition or work
of any creature, whether they be good
or evil : but shortly to say, all should
be hid under the cloud of forgetting in
this case.

For although it be full profitable
sometime to think of certain condi-
tions and deeds of some certain special
creatures, nevertheless yet in this
work it profiteth little or nought. For
why ? Memory or thinking of any
creature that ever God made, or of
any of their deeds either, it is a
manner of ghostly light : for the eye
of thy soul is opened on it and even
fixed thereupon, as the eye of a
shooter is upon the prick that he
shooteth to. And one thing I tell
thee, that all thing that thou thinketh

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 87

upon, it is above thee for the time, and
betwixt thee and thy God : and inso-
much thou art the further from God,
that aught ^'s in thy mind but only
God.

Yea ! and, if it be courteous and
seemly to say, in this work it profiteth
little or nought to think of the kind-
ness or the worthiness of God, nor on
our Lady, nor on the saints or angels
in heaven, nor yet on the joys in
heaven : that is to say, with a special
beholding to them, as thou wouldest
by that beholding feed and increase
thy purpose. I trow that on nowise it
should help in this case and in this
work. For although it be good to
think upon the kindness of God, and
to love Him and praise Him for it, yet
it is far better to think upon the naked
being of Him, and to love Him and
praise Him for Himself.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
SIXTH CHAPTER

A short conceit of the work of this booh,
treated by question.

BUT now thou askest me and sayest,
'* How shall I think on Himself, and
what is He ? " and to this I cannot
answer thee but thus : ** I wot not."

For thou hast brought me with thy
question into that same darkness, and
into that same cloud of unknowing,
that I would thou wert in thyself.
For of all other creatures and their
works, yea, and of the works of God's
self, may a man through grace have
fullhead of knowing, and well he can
think of them : but of God Himself
can no man think. And therefore I
would leave all that thing that I can
think, and choose to my love that
thing that I cannot think. For why ;

88

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 89

He may well be loved, but not thought.
By love may He be gotten and holden ;
but by thought never. And therefore,
although it be good sometime to think
of the kindness and the worthiness
of God in special, and although it be
a light and a part of contemplation :
nevertheless yet in this work it shall be
cast down and covered with a cloud of
forgetting. And thou shalt step above
it stalwartly, but listily, with a devout
and a pleasing stirring of love, and
try for to pierce that darkness above
thee. And smite upon that thick cloud
of unknowing with a sharp dart of
longing love ; and go not thence for
thing that befalleth.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
SEVENTH CHAPTER

How a man shall haue him in this work
against all thoughts^ and specially against
all those that arise of his own curiosity,
of cunning, and of natural wit.

AND if any thought rise and will
press continually above thee betwixt
thee and that darkness, and ask thee
saying, " What seekest thou, and
what wouldest thou have ? " say thou,
that it is God that thou wouldest have.
'' Him I covet, Him I seek, and nought
but Him."

And if he ask thee, ** What is that
God ? " say thou, that it is God that
made thee and bought thee, and that
graciously hath called thee to thy
degree. " And in Him," say, " thou
hast no skill." And therefore say,
" Go thou dov/n again," and tread him

90

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 91

fast down with a stirring of love,
although he seem to thee right holy,
and seem to thee as he would help
thee to seek Him. For peradventure
he will bring to thy mind diverse full
fair and wonderful points of His kind-
ness, and say that He is full sweet,
and full loving, full gracious, and full
merciful. And if thou wilt hear him,
he coveteth no better ; for at the last
he will thus jangle ever more and more
till he bring thee lower, to the mind of
His Passion.

And there will he let thee see the
wonderful kindness of God, and if thou
hear him, he careth for nought better.
For soon after he will let thee see
thine old wretched living, and per-
adventure in seeing and thinking
thereof he will bring to thy mind some
place that thou hast dwelt in before
this time. So that at the last, or
ever thou wit, thou shalt be scattered
thou wottest not where. The cause of
this scattering is, that thou heardest
him first wilfully, then answeredest

92 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

him, receivedest him, and lettest him
alone.

And yet, nevertheless, the thing that
he said was both good and holy. Yea,
and so holy, that what man or woman
that weeneth to come to contemplation
without many such sweet meditations
of their own wretchedness, the passion,
the kindness, and the great goodness,
and the worthiness of God coming
before, surely he shall err and fail of
his purpose. And yet, nevertheless, it
behoveth a man or a woman that hath
long time been used in these medita-
tions, nevertheless to leave them, and
put them and hold them far down
under the cloud of forgetting, if ever
he shall pierce the cloud of unknowing
betwixt him and his God. Therefore
what time that thou purposest thee
to this work, and feelest by grace
that thou art called of God, lift then
up thine heart unto God with a meek
stirring of love ; and mean God that
made thee, and bought thee, and that
graciously hath called thee to thy

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 93

degree, and receive none other thought
of God. And yet not all these, but if
thou list ; for it sufficeth enough, a
naked intent direct unto God without
any other cause than Himself.

And if thee list have this intent
lapped and folden in one word, for
thou shouldest have better hold there-
upon, take thee but a little word of
one syllable : for so it is better than
of two, for ever the shorter it is the
better it accordeth with the work of
the Spirit. And such a word is this
word GOD or this word LOVE.
Choose thee whether thou wilt, or
another ; as thee list, which that
thee liketh best of one syllable. And
fasten this word to thine heart, so
that it never go thence for thing that
befalleth.

This word shall be thy shield and
thy spear, whether thou ridest on
peace or on war. With this word,
thou shalt beat on this cloud and this
darkness above thee. With this word,
thou shall smite down all manner of

94 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

thought under the cloud of forgetting.
Insomuch, that if any thought press
upon thee to ask thee what thou
wouldest have, answer them with no
more words but with this one word.
And if he proffer thee of his great
clergy to expound thee that word and
to tell thee the conditions of that word,
say him : That thou wilt have it all
whole, and not broken nor undone.
And if thou wilt hold thee fast on this
purpose, be thou sure, he will no while
abide. And why ? For that thou wilt
not let him feed him on such sweet
meditations of God touched before.

1

HERE BEGINNETH THE
EIGHTH CHAPTER

A good declaring of certain doubts that
may fall in this work, treated by question,
in destroying of a man's own curiosity,
of cunning, and of natural wit, and in
distinguishing of the degrees and the parts
of active living and contemplative,

BUT now thou askest me, " What is
he, this that thus presseth upon me in
this work ; and whether it is a good
thing or an evil ? And if it be an evil
thing, then have I marvel," thou sayest,
'' why that he will increase a man's
devotion so much. For sometimes me
think that it is a passing comfort to
listen after his tales. For he will some-
time, me think, make me weep full
heartily for pity of the Passion of
Christ, sometime for my wretchedness,
and for many other reasons, that me

95

96 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

thinketh be full holy, and that done
me much good. And therefore me
thinketh that he should on nowise be
evil ; and if he be good, and with his
sweet tales doth me so much good
withal, then I have great marvel why
that thou biddest me put him down
and away so far under the cloud of
forgetting ? "

Now surely me thinketh that this is
a well moved question, and therefore
I think to answer thereto so feebly as
I can. First when thou askest me
what is he, this that presseth so fast
upon thee in this work, proffering to
help thee in this work ; I say that it
is a sharp and a clear beholding of
thy natural wit, printed in thy reason
within in thy soul. And where thou
askest me thereof whether it be good
or evil, I say that it behoveth always
be good in its nature. For why, it is a
beam of the likeness of God. But the
use thereof may be both good and evil.
Good, when it is opened by grace for
to see thy wretchedness, the passion,

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 97

the kindness, and the wonderful works
of God in His creatures bodily and
ghostly. And then it is no wonder
though it increase thy devotion full
much, as thou sayest. But then is
the use evil, when it is swollen with
pride and with curiosity of much clergy
and letterly cunning as in clerks ; and
maketh them press for to be holden
not meek scholars and masters of
divinity or of devotion, but proud
scholars of the devil and masters
of vanity and of falsehood. And in
other men or women whatso they be,
religious or seculars, the use and the
working of this natural wit is then
evil, when it is swollen with proud
and curious skills of worldly things,
and fleshly conceits in coveting of
worldly worships and having of riches
and vain plesaunce and fiatterings of
others.

And where that thou askest me,
why that thou shalt put it down under
the cloud of forgetting, since it is so,
that it is good in its nature, and thereto

7

98 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

when it is well used it doth thee so
much good and increaseth thy devo-
tion so much. To this I answer and
say — That thou shalt well understand
that there be two manner of lives in
Holy Church. The one is active life,
and the other is contemplative life.
Active is the lower, and contemplative
is the higher. Active life hath two
degrees, a higher and a lower : and
also contemplative life hath two
degrees, a lower and a higher. Also,
these two lives be so coupled together
that although they be divers in some
part, yet neither of them may be had
fully without some part of the other.
For why ? That part that is the
higher part of active life, that same
part is the lower part of contemplative
life. So that a man may not be fully
active, but if he be in part contem-
plative ; nor yet fully contemplative, as
it may be here, but if he be in part
active. The condition of active life is
such, that it is both begun and ended
in this life ; but not so of contemplative

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 99

life. For it is begun in this life, and
shall last without end. For why ?
That part that Mary chose shall never
be taken away. Active life is troubled
and travailed about many things ; but
contemplative sitteth in peace with
one thing.

The lower part of active life standeth
in good and honest bodily works of
mercy and of charity. The higher
part of active life and the lower part
of contemplative life lieth in goodly
ghostly meditations, and busy behold-
ing unto a man's own wretchedness
with sorrow and contrition, unto the
Passion of Christ and of His servants
with pity and compassion, and unto the
wonderful gifts, kindness, and works
of God in all His creatures bodily and
ghostly with thanking and praising.
But the higher part of contemplation,
as it may be had here, hangeth all
wholly in this darkness and in this
cloud of unknowing ; with a loving
stirring and a blind beholding unto
the naked being of God Himself only.

100 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

In the lower part of active life a
man is without himself and beneath
himself. In the higher part of active
life and the lower part of contemplative
life, a man is within himself and even
with himself. But in the higher part
of contemplative life, a man is above
himself and under his God. Above
himself he is : for why, he purposeth
him to win thither by grace, whither
he may not come by nature. That is
to say, to be knit to God in spirit, and
in onehead of love and accordance of
will. And right as it is impossible, to
man^s understanding, for a man to
come to the higher part of active life,
but if he cease for a time of the lower
part ; so it is that a man shall not
come to the higher part of contem-
plative life, but if he cease for a time
of the lower part. And as unlawful a
thing as it is, and as much as it would
let a man that sat in his medita-
tions, to have regard then to his out-
ward bodily works, the which he had
done, or else should do, although they

v9

LIBRARY '^

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING loi

were never so holy works in them-
selves : surely as unlikely a thing it
is, and as much would it let a man
that should work in this darkness
and in this cloud of unknowing with
an affectuous stirring of love to God
for Himself, for to let any thought
or any meditation of God's wonderful
gifts, kindness, and works in any of
His creatures bodily or ghostly, rise
upon him to press betwixt him and
his God ; although they be never so
holy thoughts, nor so profound, nor
so comfortable.

And for this reason it is that I bid
thee put down such a sharp subtle
thought, and cover him with a thick
cloud of forgetting, be he never so holy
nor promise he thee never so well for
to help thee in thy purpose. For
why, love may reach to God in this
life, but not knowing. And all the
whiles that the soul dwelleth in this
deadly body, evermore is the sharp-
ness of our understanding in behold-
ing of all ghostly things, but most

102 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

specially of God, mingled with some
manner of fantasy ; for the which our
work should be unclean. And unless
more wonder were, it should lead us
into much error.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
NINTH CHAPTER

That in the time of this work the remem-
brance of the holiest creature that ever
God made letteth more than it profiteth.

AND therefore the sharp stirring of
thine understanding, that will always
press upon thee when thou settest
thee to this work, behoveth always be
borne down ; and but thou bear him
down, he will bear thee down. Inso-
much, that when thou weenest best
to abide in this darkness, and that
nought is in thy mind but only God ;
an thou look truly thou shalt find thy
mind not occupied in this darkness,
but in a clear beholding of some thing
beneath God. And if it thus be, surely
then is that thing above thee for the
time, and betwixt thee and thy God.
And therefore purpose thee to put

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104 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

down such clear beholdings, be they
never so holy nor so likely. For one
thing I tell thee, it is more profitable
to the health of thy soul, more worthy
in itself, and more pleasing to God and
to all the saints and angels in heaven —
yea, and more helpful to all thy friends,
bodily and ghostly, quick and dead —
such a blind stirring of love unto God
for Himself, and such a privy pressing
upon this cloud of unknowing, and
better thee were for to have it and for
to feel it in thine affection ghostly,
than it is for to have the eyes of thy
soul opened in contemplation or be-
holding of all the angels or saints in
heaven, or in hearing of all the mirth
and the melody that is amongst them
in bliss.

And look thou have no wonder of
this : for mightest thou once see it as
clearly, as thou mayest by grace come
to for to grope it and feel it in this life,
thou wouldest think as I say. But be
thou sure that clear sight shall never
man have here in this life : but the

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 105

feeling may men have through grace
when God vouchsafeth. And there-
fore lift up thy love to that cloud :
rather, if I shall say thee sooth, let God
draw thy love up to that cloud and
strive thou through help of His grace
to forget all other thing.

For since a naked remembrance of
any thing under God pressing against
thy will and thy witting putteth thee
farther from God than thou shouldest
be if it were not, and letteth thee, and
maketh thee inasmuch more unable to
feel in experience the fruit of His love,
what trowest thou then that a remem-
brance wittingly and wilfully drawn
upon thee will hinder thee in thy
purpose ? And since a remembrance
of any special saint or of any clean
ghostly thing will hinder thee so much,
what trowest thou then that the
remembrance of any man living in this
wretched life, or of any manner of
bodily or worldly thing, will hinder
thee and let thee in this work ?

I say not that such a naked sudden

io6 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

thought of any good and clean ghostly
thing under God pressing against thy
will or thy witting, or else wilfully
drawn upon thee with advisement in
increasing of thy devotion, although
it be letting to this manner of work
— that it is therefore evil. Nay !
God forbid that thou take it so. But
I say, although it be good and holy,
yet in this work it letteth more than it
profiteth. I mean for the time. For
why ? Surely he that seeketh God
perfectly, he will not rest him finally
in the remembrance of any angel or
saint that is in heaven.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
TENTH CHAPTER

How a man shall know when his thought
is no sin ; and if it be sin, when it is
deadly and when it is venial.

BUT it is not thus of the remembrance
of any man or woman living in this
life, or of any bodily or worldly thing
whatsoever that it be. For why, a
naked sudden thought of any of them,
pressing against thy will and thy
witting, although it be no sin imputed
unto thee — for it is the pain of the
original sin pressing against thy
power, of the which sin thou art
cleansed in thy baptism — nevertheless
yet if this sudden stirring or thought
be not smitten soon down, as fast for
frailty thy fleshly heart is strained
thereby : with some manner of liking,
if it be a thing that pleaseth thee or

107

io8 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

hath pleased thee before, or else with
some manner of grumbling, if it be a
thing that thee think grieveth thee, or
hath grieved thee before. The which
fastening, although it may in fleshly
living men and women that be in
deadly sin before be deadly ; neverthe-
less in thee and in all other that have
in a true will forsaken the world, and
are obliged unto any degree in devout
living in Holy Church, what so it be,
privy or open, and thereto that will be
ruled not after their own will and their
own wit, but after the will and the
counsel of their sovereigns, what so
they be, religious or seculars, such a
liking or a grumbling fastened in the
fleshly heart is but venial sin. The
cause of this is the grounding and the
rooting of your intent in God, made in
the beginning of your living in that
state that ye stand in, by the witness
and the counsel of some discreet
father.

But if it so be, that this liking or
grumbling fastened in thy fleshly heart

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 109

be suffered so long to abide unreproved,
that then at the last it is fastened to
the ghostly heart, that is to say the
will, with a full consent : then, it is
deadly sin. And this befalleth when
thou or any of them that I speak of
wilfully draw upon thee the remem-
brance of any man or woman living in
this life, or of any bodily or worldly
thing other : insomuch, that if it be
a thing the which grieveth or hath
grieved thee before, there riseth in
thee an angry passion and an appetite
of vengeance, the which is called
Wrath. Or else a fell disdain and
a manner of loathsomeness of their
person, with despiteful and condemn-
ing thoughts, the which is called
Envy. Or else a weariness and an
unlistiness of any good occupation
bodily or ghostly, the which is called
Sloth.

And if it be a thing that pleaseth
thee, or hath pleased thee before, there
riseth in thee a passing delight for to
think on that thing what so it be. In-

no CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

somuch, that thou restest thee in that
thought, and finally fastenest thine
heart and thy will thereto, and feedest
thy fleshly heart therewith : so that
thee think for the time that thou
covetest none other wealth, but to live
ever in such a peace and rest with that
thing that thou thinkest upon. If this
thought that thou thus drawest upon
thee, or else receivest when it is put
unto thee, and that thou restest thee
thus in with delight, be worthiness of
nature or of knowing, of grace or of
degree, of favour or of fairhead, then it
is Pride. And if it be any manner of
worldly good, riches or chattels, or
what that man may have or be lord of,
then it is Covetyse. If it be dainty
meats and drinks, or any manner of
delights that man may taste, then it
is Gluttony. And if it be love or
plesaunce, or any manner of fleshly
dalliance, glosing or flattering of any
man or woman living in this life, or of
thyself either : then it is Lechery.

J

HERE BEGINNETH THE
ELEVENTH CHAPTER

That a man should weigh each thought
and each stirring after that it is, and
always eschew reclilessness in venial sin.

I SAY not this for that I trow that
thou, or any other such as I speak of,
be guilty and cumbered with any such
sins ; but for that I would that thou
weighest each thought and each stir-
ring after that it is, and for I would
that thou travailedst busily to destroy
the first stirring and thought of these
things that thou mayest thus sin in.
For one thing I tell thee ; that who
weigheth not, or setteth little by, the
first thought — yea, although it be no
sin unto him — that he, whosoever that
he be, shall not eschew recklessness
in venial sin. Venial sin shall no man
utterly eschew in this deadly life. But

III

112 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

recklessness in venial sin should al-
ways be eschewed of all the true
disciples of perfection ; and else I
have no wonder though they soon sin
deadly.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
TWELFTH CHAPTER

That by virtue of this worii sin is not
only destroyed, but also virtues begotten.

AND, therefore, if thou wilt stand and
not fall, cease never in thine intent :
but beat evermore on this cloud of
unknowing that is betwixt thee and
thy God with a sharp dart of longing
love, and loathe for to think on aught
under God, and go not thence for any-
thing that befalleth. For this is only
by itself that work that destroyeth
the ground and the root of sin. Fast
thou never so much, wake thou never
so long, rise thou never so early, lie
thou never so hard, wear thou never
so sharp ; yea, and if it were lawful
to do — as it is not — put thou out thine
eyes, cut thou out thy tongue of thy
mouth, stop thou thine ears and thy

113 8

114 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

nose never so fast, though thou shear
away thy members, and do all the pain
to thy body that thou mayest or
canst think : all this would help thee
right nought. Yet will stirring and
rising of sin be in thee.

Yea, and what more ? Weep thou

never so much for sorrow of thy sins,

or of the Passion of Christ, or have

thou never so much mind of the joys

of heaven, what may it do to thee ?

Surely much good, much help, much

profit, and much grace will it get thee.

But in comparison of this blind stirring

of love, it is but a little that it doth,

or may do, without this. This by itself

is the best part of Mary without these

other. They without it profit but little

or nought. It destroyeth not only the

ground and the root of sin as it may

be here, but thereto it getteth virtues.

For an it be truly conceived, all virtues

shall truly be, and perfectly conceived,

and feelingly comprehended, in it,

without any mingling of the intent.

And have a man never so many virtues

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 115

without it, all they be mingled with
some crooked intent, for the which
they be imperfect.

For virtue is nought else but an
ordained and a measured affection,
plainly directed unto God for Himself.
For why ? He in Himself is the pure
cause of all virtues : insomuch, that
if any man be stirred to any one virtue
by any other cause mingled with '
Him, yea, although that He be the
chief, yet that virtue is then imperfect.
As thus by example may be seen in
one virtue or two instead of all the
other ; and well may these two virtues
be meekness and charity. For whoso
might get these two clearly, him
needeth no more : for why, he hath
all.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
THIRTEENTH CHAPTER

What meekness is in itself, and when it
is perfect and when it is imperfect.

NOW let see first of the virtue of
meekness ; how that it is imperfect
when it is caused of any other thing
mingled with God although He be the
chief ; and how that it is perfect when
it is caused of God by Himself. And
first it is to wit, what meekness is in
itself, if this matter shall clearly be
seen and conceived ; and thereafter
may it more verily be conceived in
truth of spirit what is the cause
thereof.

Meekness in itself is nought else,
but a true knowing and feeling of a
man's self as he is. For surely whoso
might verily see and feel himself as he
is, he should verily be meek. Two

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CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 117

things there be, the which be cause of
this meekness ; the which be these.
One is the filth, the wretchedness, and
the frailty of man, into the which he is
fallen by sin ; and the which always
him behoveth to feel in some part the
whiles he liveth in this life, be he never
so holy. Another is the over-abundant
love and the worthiness of God in
Himself ; in beholding of the which all
nature quaketh, all clerks be fools, and
all saints and angels be blind. Inso-
much, that were it not that through the
wisdom of His Godhead He measured
their beholding after their ableness in
nature and in grace, I defail to say
what should befall them.

This second cause is perfect ; for
why, it shall last without end. And
the tother before is imperfect ; for why,
it shall not only fail at the end of this
life, but full oft it may befall that a
soul in this deadly body for abundance
of grace in multiplying of his desire —
as oft and as long as God vouchsafeth
for to work it — shall have suddenly

ii8 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

and perfectly lost and forgotten all
witting and feeling of his being, not
looking after whether he have been
holy or wretched. But whether this
fall oft or seldom to a soul that is thus
disposed, I trow that it lasteth but a
full short while : and in this time it is
perfectly meeked, for it knoweth and
feeleth no cause but the Chief. And
ever when it knoweth and feeleth the
tother cause, communing therewith,
although this be the chief : yet it is
imperfect meekness. Nevertheless
yet it is good and notwithstanding
must be had ; and God forbid that
thou take it in any other manner than
I say.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
FOURTEENTH CHAPTER

That without imperfect meekness coming
before, it is impossible for a sinner to
come to the perfect virtue of meeliness
in this life.

FOR although I call it imperfect
meekness, yet I had liefer have a true
knowing and a feeling of myself as I
am, and sooner I trow that it should
get me the perfect cause and virtue
of meekness by itself, than it should
an all the saints and angels in heaven,
and all the men and women of Holy
Church living in earth, religious or
seculars in all degrees, were set at
once all together to do nought else
but to pray to God for me to get me
perfect meekness. Yea, and yet it is
impossible a sinner to get, or to keep

119

120 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

when it is gotten, the perfect virtue
of meekness without it. I

And therefore swink and sweat in
all that thou canst and mayest, for to
get thee a true knowing and a feeling
of thyself as thou art ; and then I trow
that soon after that thou shalt have a
true knowing and a feeling of God as
He is. Not as He is in Himself, for
that may no man do but Himself ; nor
yet as thou shalt do in bliss both
body and soul together. But as it is
possible, and as He vouchsafeth to be
known and felt of a meek soul living
in this deadly body.

And think not because I set two
causes of meekness, one perfect and
another imperfect, that I will therefore
that thou leavest the travail about im-
perfect meekness, and set thee wholly
to get thee perfect. Nay, surely ; I
trow thou shouldest never bring it
so about. But herefore I do that I
do : because I think to tell thee and
let thee see the worthiness of this
ghostly exercise before all other ex-

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 121

ercise bodily or ghostly that man can
or may do by grace. How that a privy
love pressed in cleanness of spirit upon
this dark cloud of unknowing betwixt
thee and thy God, truly and perfectly
containeth in it the perfect virtue of
meekness without any special or clear
beholding of any thing under God.
And because I would that thou knew-
est which were perfect meekness, and
settest it as a token before the love of
thine heart, and didst it for thee and
for me. And because I would by this
knowing make thee more meek.

For ofttimes it befalleth that lacking
of knowing is cause of much pride as
me thinketh. For peradventure an
thou knewest not which were perfect
meekness, thou shouldest ween when
thou hadst a little knowing and a
feeling of this that I call imperfect
meekness, that thou hadst almost
gotten perfect meekness : and so
shouldest thou deceive thyself, and
ween that thou wert full meek when
thou wert all belapped in foul stinking

122 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

pride. And therefore try for to travail
about perfect meekness ; for the con-
dition of it is such, that whoso hath it,
and the whiles he hath it, he shall not
sin, nor yet much after.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
FIFTEENTH CHAPTER

A short proof against their error that
say, that there is no perfecter cause
to be meeked under, than is the linowledge
of a man's own wretchedness.

AND trust steadfastly that there is
such a perfect meekness as I speak
of, and that it may be come to through
grace in this life. And this I say in
confusion of their error, that say that
there is no perfecter cause of meekness
than is that which is raised of the
remembrance of our wretchedness
and our before-done sins.

I grant well, that to them that have
been in accustomed sins, as I am
myself and have been, it is the most
needful and speedful cause, to be
meeked under the remembrance of

123

124 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

our wretchedness and our before-done
sins, ever till the time be that the
great rust of sin be in great part
rubbed away, our conscience and our
counsel to witness. But to other that
be, as it were, innocents, the which
never sinned deadly with an abiding
will and avisement, but through frailty
and unknowing, and the which set
them to be contemplatives — and to us
both if our counsel and our conscience
witness our lawful amendment in con-
trition and in confession, and in
making satisfaction after the statute
and the ordinance of all-Holy Church,
and thereto if we feel us stirred and
called by grace to be contemplatives
also — there is then another cause to
be meeked under as far above this
cause as is the living of our Lady
Saint Mary above the living of the]
sinfullest penitent in Holy Church
or the living of Christ above the living]
of any other man in this life ; or else
the living of an angel in heaven, the]
which never felt — nor shall feel-

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 125

frailty, is above the life of the frailest
man that is here in this world.

For if it so were that there were no
perfect cause to be meeked under,
but in seeing and feeling of wretched-
ness, then would I wit of them that
say so, what cause they be meeked
under that never see nor feel — nor
never shall be in them — wretchedness
nor stirring of sin : as it is of our
Lord JESUS CHRIST, our Lady
Saint Mary, and all the saints and
angels in heaven. To this perfection,
and all other, our Lord JESUS
CHRIST calleth us Himself in the
gospel : where He biddeth that we
should be perfect by grace as He Himself
is by nature.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
SIXTEENTH CHAPTER

That by virtue of this worii a sinner truly
turned and called to contemplation cometh
sooner to perfection than by any other
work ; and by it soonest may get of God
forgiveness of sins.

LOOK that no man think it presump-
tion, that he that is the wretchedest
sinner of this life dare take upon him
after the time be that he have lawfully
amended him, and after that he have
felt him stirred to that life that is
called contemplative, by the assent
of his counsel and his conscience for
to profer a meek stirring of love to his
God, privily pressing upon the cloud
of unknowing betwixt him and his
God. When our Lord said to Mary,
in person of all sinners that be called
to contemplative life, ** Thy sins be

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CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 127

forgiven thee," it was not for her great
sorrow, nor for the remembering of
her sins, nor yet for her meekness
that she had in the beholding of her
wretchedness only. But why then ?
Surely because she loved much.

Lo ! here may men see what a privy
pressing of love may purchase of our
Lord, before all other works that man
may think. And yet I grant well, that
she had full much sorrow, and wept
full sore for her sins, and full much
she was meeked in remembrance of
her wretchedness. And so should we
do, that have been wretches and
accustomed sinners ; all our lifetime
make hideous and wonderful sorrow
for our sins, and full much be meeked
in remembrance of our wretchedness.

But how } Surely as Mary did.
She, although she might not feel the
deep hearty sorrow of her sins — for
why, all her lifetime she had them
with her whereso she went, as it were
in a burthen bounden together and
laid up full privily in the hole of her

128 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

heart, in manner never to be forgotten
— nevertheless yet, it may be said and
affirmed by Scripture, that she had a
more hearty sorrow, a more doleful
desire, and a more deep sighing, and
more she languished, yea ! almost to
the death, for lacking of love, although
she had full much love (and have no
wonder thereof, for it is the condition
of a true lover that ever the more he
loveth, the more he longeth for to love),
than she had for any remembrance of
her sins.

And yet she wist well, and felt well
in herself in a sad soothfastness, that
she was a wretch most foul of all
other, and that her sins had made a
division betwixt her and her God that
she loved so much : and also that they
were in great part cause of her lan-
guishing sickness for lacking of love.
But what thereof ? Came she there-
fore down from the height of desire
into the deepness of her sinful life,
and searched in the foul stinking fen
and dunghill of her sins ; searching

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 129

them up, by one and by one,with all the
circumstances of them, and sorrowed
and wept so upon them each one by
itself ? Nay, surely she did not so.
And why ? Because God let her wit
by His grace within in her soul, that
she should never so bring it about.
For so might she sooner have raised
in herself an ableness to have oft
sinned, than to have purchased by
that work any plain forgiveness of all
her sins.

And therefore she hung up her love
and her longing desire in this cloud of
unknowing, and learned her to love a
thing the which she might not see
clearly in this life, by light of under-
standing in her reason, nor yet verily
feel in sweetness of love in her
affection. Insomuch, that she had
ofttimes little special remembrance,
whether that ever she had been a
sinner or none. Yea, and full ofttimes
I hope that she was so deeply dis-
posed to the love of His Godhead that
she had but right little special behold-

9

130 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

ing unto the beauty of His precious
and His blessed body, in the which He
sat full lovely speaking and preaching
before her ; nor yet to anything else,
bodily or ghostly. That this be sooth,
it seemeth by the gospel.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
SEVENTEENTH CHAPTER

That a very contemplative list not meddle
him with active life^ nor of anything thai
is done or spoken about him, nor yet to
answer to his blamers in excusing of
himself

IN the gospel of Saint Luke it is
written, that when our Lord was in
the house of Martha her sister, all the
time that Martha made her busy about
the dighting of His meat, Mary her
sister sat at His feet. And in hearing
of His word she beheld not to the
business of her sister, although her
business was full good and full holy,
for truly it is the first part of active
life ; nor yet to the preciousness of
His blessed body, nor to the sweet
voice and the words of His manhood,
although it is better and holier, for

131

132 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

it is the second part of active life and
the first of contemplative life.

But to the sovereignest wisdom of
His Godhead lapped in the dark words
of His manhood, thither beheld she
with all the love of her heart. For
from thence she would not remove,
for nothing that she saw nor heard
spoken nor done about her ; but sat
full still in her body, with many a sweet
privy and a listy love pressed upon
that high cloud of unknowing betwixt
her and her God. For one thing I
tell thee, that there was never yet pure
creature in this life, nor never yet shall
be, so high ravished in contemplation
and love of the Godhead, that there is
not evermore a high and a wonderful
cloud of unknowing betwuxt him and
his God. In this cloud it was that
Mary was occupied with many a privy
love pressed. And why ? Because it
was the best and the holiest part of
contemplation that may be in this life,
and from this part her list not remove
for nothing. Insomuch, that when

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 133

her sister Martha complained to our
Lord of her, and bade Him bid her
sister rise and help her and let her
not so work and travail by herself,
she sat full still and answered not with
one word, nor shewed not as much as
a grumbling gesture against her sister
for any plaint that she could make.
And no wonder : for why, she had
another work to do that Martha wist
not of. And therefore she had no
leisure to listen to her, nor to answer
her at her plaint.

Lo ! friend, all these works, these
words, and these gestures, that were
shewed betwixt our Lord and these
two sisters, be set in ensample of all
actives and all contemplatives that
iiave been since in Holy Church, and
shall be to the day of doom. For by
Mary is understood all contemplatives ;
or they should conform their living
ifter hers. And by Martha, actives
m the same manner ; and for the
iame reason in likeness.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
EIGHTEENTH CHAPTER

I

Hoiv that yet unto this day all actiues
complain of contemplatiues as Martha
did of Mary. Of the Luhich complaining
ignorance is the cause.

AND right as Martha complained
then on Mary her sister, right so yet
unto this day all actives complain of
contemplatives. For an there be a
man or a woman in any company of
this world, what company soever it be,
religious or seculars — I out-take none
— the which man or woman, whichever
that it be, feeleth him stirred through
grace and by counsel to forsake all
outward business, and for to set him
fully for to live contemplative life after
their cunning and their conscience,
their counsel according ; as fast, their
own brethren and their sisters, and

134

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 135

all their next friends, with many other
that know not their stirrings nor that
manner of living that they set them
to, with a great complaining spirit
shall rise upon them, and say sharply
unto them that it is nought that they
do. And as fast they will reckon up
many false tales, and many true also,
of falling of men and women that
have given them to such life before :
and never a good tale of them that
stood.

I grant that many fall and have
fallen of them that have in likeness
forsaken the world. And where they
should have become God's servants
and His contemplatives, because that
they would not rule them by true
ghostly counsel they have become the
devil's servants and his contempla-
tives ; and turned either to hypocrites
or to heretics, or fallen into frenzies
and many other mischiefs, in slander
of Holy Church. Of the which I leave
to speak at this time, for troubling of
our matter. But nevertheless here-

136 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

after when God vouchsafeth and
if need be, men may see some of
the conditions and the cause of their
fallings. And therefore no more of
them at this time ; but forth of our
matter.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
NINETEENTH CHAPTER

A short exGusation of him that made this
booh, teaching how all contemp/atiues
should have all actives fully excused of
their complaining words and deeds,

SOME might think that I do little
worship to Martha, that special saint,
for I liken her words of complaining
of her sister unto these worldly men's
words, or theirs unto hers : and truly
I mean no unworship to her nor to
them. And God forbid that I should
in this work say anything that might
be taken in condemnation of any of
the servants of God in any degree, and
namely of His special saint. For me
thinketh that she should be full well
had excused of her plaint, taking
regard to the time and the manner
that she said it in. For that that she

137

138 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

said, her unknowing was the cause.
And no wonder though she knew not at
that time how Mary was occupied ; for
I trow that before she had little heard
of such perfection. And also that she
said, it was but courteously and in
few words : and therefore she should
always be had excused.

And so me thinketh that these
worldly living men and women of
active life should also full well be had
excused of their complaining words
touched before, although they say
rudely that they say ; having beholding
to their ignorance. For why ? Right
as Martha wist full little what Mary
her sister did when she complained of
her to our Lord ; right so on the same
manner these folk nowadays wot full
little, or else nought, what these young
disciples of God mean, when they set
them from the business of this world,
and draw them to be God's special
servants in holiness and rightfulness
of spirit. And if they wist truly, I
daresay that they would neither do nor

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 139

say as they say. And therefore me
thinketh always that they should be
had excused : for why, they know no
better living than is that they live in
themselves. And also when I think on
mine innumerable defaults, the which
I have made myself before this time
in words and deeds for default of
knowing, me thinketh then if I would
be had excused of God for mine
ignorant defaults, that I should char-
itably and piteously have other men's
ignorant words and deeds always ex-
cused. And surely else, do I not to
others as I would they did to me.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
TWENTIETH CHAPTER

Hoiv Almighty God will goodly answer for
all those that for the excusing of them-
selves list not leave their business about
the love of Him.

AND therefore me thinketh, that they
that set them to be contemplatives
should not only have active men ex-
cused of their complaining words, but
also me thinketh that they should be
so occupied in spirit that they should
take little heed or none what men did
or said about them. Thus did Mary,
our example of all, when Martha
her sister complained to our Lord :
and if we will truly do thus our Lord
will do now for us as He did then
for Mary.

And how was that ? Surely thus.
140

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 141

Our lovely Lord Jesus Christ, unto
whom no privy thing is hid, al-
though He was required of Martha
as doomsman for to bid Mary rise and
help her to serve Him ; nevertheless
yet, for He perceived that Mary was
fervently occupied in spirit about the
love of His Godhead, therefore court-
eously and as it was seemly for Him
to do by the way of reason. He
answered for her, that for the excus-
ing of herself list not leave the love
of Him. And how answered He ?
Surely not only as doomsman, as He
was of Martha appealed : but as
an advocate lawfully defended her
that Him loved, and said, '' Martha,
Martha ! " Twice for speed He named
her name ; for He would that she
heard Him and took heed to His words.
" Thou art full busy," He said, *' and
troubled about many things." For
they that be actives behove always to
be busied and travailed about many
diverse things, the which them falleth,
first for to have to their own use, and

142 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

sithen in deeds of mercy to their even-
christian, as charity asketh. And
this He said unto Martha, for He
would let her wit that her business
v/as good and profitable to the health
of her soul. But for this, that she
should not think that it were the best
work of all that man might do, there-
fore He added and said : " But one
thing is necessary."

And what is that one thing ? Surely
that God be loved and praised by Him-
self, above all other business bodily or
ghostly that man may do. And for
this, that Martha should not think
that she might both love God and
praise Him above all other business
bodily or ghostly, and also thereto to
be busy about the necessaries of this
life : therefore to deliver her of doubt
that she might not both serve God in
bodily business and ghostly together
perfectly — imperfectly she may, but
not perfectly — He added and said,
that Mary had chosen the best part ;
the which should never be taken from

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 143

her. For why, that perfect stirring of
love that beginneth here is even in
number with that that shall last with-
out end in the bliss of heaven, for all
it is but one.

HERE BEGINNETH THE ONE
AND TWENTIETH CHAPTER

The true exposition of this gospel word,
"Mary hath chosen the best part."

WHAT meaneth this ; Mary hath
chosen the best ? Wheresoever the
best is set or named, it asketh before
it these two things — a good, and a
better ; so that it be the best, and the
third in number. But which be these
three good things, of the which Mary
chose the best ? Three lives be they
not, for Holy Church maketh remem-
brance but of two, active life and con-
templative life ; the which two lives be
privily understood in the story of this
gospel by these two sisters Martha
and Mary — by Martha active, by Mary
contemplative. V/ithout one of these
two lives may no man be safe, and

144

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 145

where no more be but two, may no
man choose the best.

But although there be but two
Hves, nevertheless yet in these two
lives be three parts, each one better
than other. The which three, each
one by itself, be specially set in their
places before in this writing. For as
it is said before, the first part standeth
in good and honest bodily works of
mercy and of charity ; and this is the
first degree of active life, as it is said
before. The second part of these two
lives lieth in good ghostly meditations
of a man's own wretchedness, the
Passion of Christ, and of the joys of
heaven. The first part is good, and
this part is the better ; for this is the
second degree of active life and the
first of contemplative life. In this
part is contemplative life and active
life coupled together in ghostly kin-
ship, and made sisters at the ensample
of Martha and Mary. Thus high may
an active come to contemplation ; and
no higher, but if it be full seldom and

10

146 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

by a special grace. Thus low may a
contemplative come towards active
life ; and no lower, but if it be full
seldom and in great need.

The third part of these two lives
hangeth in this dark cloud of unknow-
ing, with many a privy love pressed
to God by Himself. The first part is
good, the second is better, but the
third is best of all. This is the " best
part " of Mary. And therefore it is
plainly to wit, that our Lord said not,
Mary hath chosen the best life; for
there be no more lives but two, and
of two may no man choose the best.
But of these two lives Mary hath
chosen, He said, the best part; the
which shall never be taken from
her. The first part and the second,
although they be both good and holy,
yet they end with this life. For in the
tother life shall be no need as now to
use the works of mercy, nor to weep
for our wretchedness, nor for the
Passion of Christ. For then shall none
be able to hunger nor thirst as now, nor

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 147

die for cold, nor be sick, nor houseless,
nor in prison ; nor yet need burial, for
then shall none be able to die. But
the third part that Mary chose, choose
who by grace is called to choose :
or, if I soothlier shall say, whoso
is chosen thereto of God. Let him
lustily incline thereto, for that shall
never be taken away : for if it begin
here, it shall last without end.

And therefore let the voice of our
Lord cry on these actives, as if He said
thus now for us unto them, as He did
then for Mary to Martha, '' Martha,
Martha ! " — *' Actives, actives ! make
you as busy as ye can in the first
part and in the second, now in the one
and now in the tother : and, if you list
right well and feel you disposed, in
both two bodily. And meddle you not
of contemplatives. Ye wot not what
them aileth : let them sit in their rest
and in their play, with the third and
the best part of Mary."

HERE BEGINNETH THE TWO
AND TWENTIETH CHAPTER

Of the wonderful hue that Christ had to
man in person of all sinners truly turned
and called to the grace of contemplation.

SWEET was that love betwixt our
Lord and Mary. Much love had she
to Him. Much more had He to her.
For whoso would utterly behold all
the behaviour that was betwixt Him
and her, not as a trifler may tell, but
as the story of the gospel will witness
— the which on nowise may be false —
he should find that she was so heartily
set for to love Him, that nothing be-
neath Him might comfort her, nor
yet hold her heart from Him. This
is she, that same Mary, that when
she sought Him at the sepulchre with
weeping cheer would not be comforted
of angels. For when they spake unto

148

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 149

her so sweetly and so lovely and said,
" Weep not, Mary ; for why, our Lord
whom thou seekest is risen, and thou
shalt have Him, and see Him live
full fair amongst His disciples in
Galilee as He hight," she would not
cease for them. For why ? Her
thought that whoso sought verily
the King of Angels, them list not
cease for angels.

And what more ? Surely whoso
will look verily in the story of the
gospel, he shall find many wonderful
points of perfect love written of her
to our ensample, and as even accord-
ing to the work of this writing, as if
they had been set and written there-
fore ; and surely so were they, take
whoso take may. And if a man list
for to see in the gospel written the
wonderful and the special love that
our Lord had to her, in person of all
accustomed sinners truly turned and
called to the grace of contemplation,
he shall find that our Lord might not
suffer any man or woman— yea, not

150 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

her own sister — speak a word against
her, but if He answered for her Him-
self. Yea, and what more ? He
blamed Symon Leprous in his own
house, for that he thought against
her. This was great love : this was
passing love.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

THREE AND TWENTIETH

CHAPTER

How God will answer and purvey for them
in spirit, t/iat for business about His loue
list not answer nor purvey for themselves.

AND truly an we will lustily conform
our love and our living, inasmuch as
in us is, by grace and by counsel, unto
the love and the living of Mary, no
doubt but He shall answer on the
same manner now for us ghostly each
day, privily in the hearts of all those
that either say or think against us.
I say not but that evermore some men
shall say or think somewhat against
us, the whiles we live in the travail
of this life, as they did against Mary.
But I say, an we will give no more
heed to their saying nor to their

151

152 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

thinking, nor no more cease of our
ghostly privy work for their words
and their thoughts, than she did — I
say, then, that our Lord shall answer
them in spirit, if it shall be well with
them that so say and so think, that
they shall within few days have shame
of their words and their thoughts.

And as He will answer for us thus
in spirit, so will He stir other men in
spirit to give us our needful things
that belong to this life, as meat and
clothes with all these other ; if He see
that we will not leave the work of His
love for business about them. And
this I say in confusion of their error,
that say that it is not lawful for men
to set them to serve God in contem-
plative life, but if they be secure before
of their bodily necessaries. For they
say, that God sendeth the cow, but
not by the horn. And truly they say
wrong of God, as they well know. For
trust steadfastly, thou whatsoever that
thou be, that truly turnest thee from
the world unto God, that one of these

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 153

two God shall send thee, without
business of thyself : and that is either
abundance of necessaries, or strength
in body and patience in spirit to bear
need. What then recketh it, which
man have ? for all come to one in very
contemplatives. And whoso is in
doubt of this, either the devil is in
his breast and reeveth him of belief,
or else he is not yet truly turned to
God as he should be ; make he it
never so quaint, nor never so holy
reasons shew there again, whatso-
ever that he be.

And therefore thou, that settest thee
to be contemplative as Mary was,
choose thee rather to be meeked under
the wonderful height and the worthi-
ness of God, the which is perfect, than
under thine own wretchedness, the
which is imperfect : that is to say, look
that thy special beholding be more to
the worthiness of God than to thy
wretchedness. For to them that be
perfectly meeked, no thing shall defail ;
neither bodily thing, nor ghostly. For

154 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

why ? They have God, in whom is all
plenty ; and whoso hath Him — yea, as
this book telleth — him needeth nought
else in this life.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FOUR AND TWENTIETH

CHAPTER

What charity is in itself, and how it is
truly and perfectly contained in the work
of this book.

AND as it is said of meekness, how
that it is truly and perfectly compre-
hended in this little blind love pressed,
when it is beating upon this dark
cloud of unknowing, all other things
put down and forgotten : so it is to
be understood of all other virtues, and
specially of charity.

For charity is nought else to bemean
to thine understanding, but love of
God for Himself above all creatures,
and of man for God even as thyself.
And that in this work God is loved for
Himself, and above all creatures, it
seemeth right well. For as it is said

155

156 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

before, that the substance of this work
is nought else but a naked intent
directed unto God for Himself.

A naked intent I call it. For why,
in this work a perfect prentice asketh
neither releasing of pain, nor increasing
of meed, nor shortly to say, nought but
Himself. Insomuch, that neither he
recketh nor looketh after whether that
he be in pain or in bliss, else that His
will be fulfilled that he loveth. And
thus it seemeth that in this work God
is perfectly loved for Himself, and that
above all creatures. For in this work,
a perfect worker may not suffer the
memory of the holiest creature that
ever God made to commune with
him.

And that in this work the second
and the lower branch of charity unto
thine even-christian is verily and per-
fectly fulfilled, it seemeth by the proof.
For why, in this work a perfect worker
hath no special beholding unto any
man by himself, whether that he be kin
or stranger, friend or foe. For all men

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 157

him thinks equally kin unto him, and
no man stranger. All men him thinks
be his friends, and none his foes. In-
somuch, that him thinks all those that
pain him and do him disease in this
life, they be his full and his special
friends : and him thinketh, that he is
stirred to will them as much good, as
he would to the homeliest friend that
he hath.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FIVE AND TWENTIETH

CHAPTER

That in the time of this work a perfect
soul hath no special beholding to any one
man in this life.

I SAY not that in this work he shall
have a special beholding to any man
in this life, whether that he be friend
or foe, kin or stranger ; for that may
not be if this work shall perfectly be
done, as it is when all things under
God be fully forgotten, as falleth for
this work. But I say that he shall be
made so virtuous and so charitable by
the virtue of this work, that his will
shall be afterwards, when he con-
descendeth to commune or to pray for
his even-christian — not from all this
work, for that may not be without
great sin, buc from the height of this

158

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 159

work, the which is speedful and need-
ful to do some time as charity asketh
— as specially then directed to his foe
as to his friend, his stranger as his
kin. Yea, and some time more to his
foe than to his friend.

Nevertheless, in this work he hath
no leisure to look after who is his
friend or his foe, his kin or his stranger.
I say not but he shall feel som.e time —
yea, full oft — his affection more homely
to one, two, or three, than to all these
other : for that is lawful to be, for
many causes as charity asketh. For
such an homely affection felt Christ to
John and unto Mary, and unto Peter
before many others. But I say, that
in the time of this work shall all be
equally homely unto him ; for he shall
feel then no cause, but only God. So
that all shall be loved plainly and
nakedly for God, and as well as
himself.

For as all men were lost in Adam and
all men that with work will witness
their will of salvation are saved or

i6o CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

shall be by virtue of the Passion of
only Christ : not in the same manner,
but as it were in the same manner, a
soul that is perfectly disposed to this
work, and oned thus to God in spirit
as the proof of this work witnesseth,
doth that in it is to make all men as
perfect in this v/ork as itself is. For
right as if a limb of our body feeleth
sore, all the tother limbs be pained and
diseased therefore, or if a limb fare
well, all the remnant be gladded there-
with— right so is it ghostly of all the
limbs of Holy Church. For Christ is
our head, and we be the limbs if we
be in charity : and whoso will be a
perfect disciple of our Lord's, him
behoveth strain up his spirit in this
work ghostly, for the salvation of all
his brethren and sisters in nature, as
our Lord did His body on the Cross.
And how ? Not only for His friends
and His kin and His homely lovers, but
generally for all mankind, without any
special beholding more to one than to
another. For all that will leave sin

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING i6i

and ask mercy shall be saved through
the virtue of His Passion. And as it is
said of meekness and charity, so it is
to be understood of all other virtues.
For all they be truly comprehended
in this little pressing of love, touched
before.

II

HERE BEGINNETH THE

SIX AND TWENTIETH

CHAPTER

That without full special grace, or long
use in common grace, the work of this
book is right travailous ; and in this
work, which is the work of the soul
helped by grace, and which is the work
of only God.

AND therefore travail fast awhile,
and beat upon this high cloud of un-
knowing, and rest afterward. Never-
theless, a travail shall he have who
so shall use him in this work ; yea,
surely ! and that a full great travail,
unless he have a more special grace,
or else that he have of long time used
him therein.

But I pray thee, wherein shall that
travail be ? Surely not in that devout
stirring of love that is continually

X62

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 163

wrought in his will, not by himself,
but by the hand of Almighty God : the
which is evermore ready to work this
work in each soul that is disposed
thereto, and that doth that in him is,
and hath done long time before, to
enable him to this work.

But wherein then is this travail,
I pray thee ? Surely, this travail is
all in treading down of the remem-
brance of all the creatures that ever
God made, and in holding of them
under the cloud of forgetting named
before. In this is all the travail ; for
this is man's travail, with help of
grace. And the tother above — that is
to say, the stirring of love — that is the
work of only God. And therefore do
on thy work, and surely I promise
thee He shall not fail in His.

Do on then fast ; let see how thou
bearest thee. Seest thou not how
He standeth and abideth thee ? For
shame ! Travail fast but awhile, and
thou shalt soon be eased of the great-
ness and of the hardness of this travail.

1 64 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

For although it be hard and strait
in the beginning, when thou hast no
devotion ; nevertheless yet after, when
thou hast devotion, it shall be made
full restful and full light unto thee
that before was full hard. And thou
shalt have either little travail or none,
for then will God work sometimes all
by Himself. But not ever, nor yet
no long time together, but when Him
list and as Him list ; and then wilt
thou think it merry to let Him alone.

Then will He sometimes peradven-
ture send out a beam of ghostly light,
piercing this cloud of unknowing that
is betwixt thee and Him ; and shew
thee some of His privity, the which
man may not, nor cannot speak.
Then shalt thou feel thine affection
inflamed with the fire of His love, far
more than I can tell thee, or may or
will at this time. For of that work,
that falleth to only God, dare I not
take upon me to speak with my
blabbering fleshly tongue : and shortly
to say, although I durst I would do

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 165

not. But of that work that falleth
to man when he feeleth him stirred
and helped by grace, list me well tell
thee : for therein is the less peril of
the two.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

SEVEN AND TWENTIETH

CHAPTER

Who should worh in the gracious work of
this book.

FIRST and foremost, I will tell thee
who should work in this work, and
when, and by what means : and what
discretion thou shalt have in it. If
thou asketh me who shall work thus,
I answer thee — all that have forsaken
the world in a true will, and thereto
that give them not to active life, but
to that life that is called contemplative
life. All those should work in this
grace and in this work, whatsoever
that they be ; whether they have been
accustomed sinners or none.

1 66

HERE BEGINNETH THE

EIGHT AND TWENTIETH

CHAPTER

That a man should not presume to work
in this work before the time that he be
lawfully cleansed in conscience of all his
special deeds of sin.

BUT if thou asketh me when they
should work in this work, then I
answer thee and I say : that not ere
they have cleansed their conscience
of all their special deeds of sin done
before, after the common ordinance of
Holy Church.

For in this work, a soul drieth up in
it all the root and the ground of sin
that will always live in it after confes-
sion, be it never so busy. And, there-
fore, whoso will travail in this work,
let him first cleanse his conscience ;
and afterward when he hath done that
in him is lawfully, let him dispose him

167

i68 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

boldly but meekly thereto. And let
him think, that he hath full long been
holden therefrom. For this is that
work in the which a soul should travail
all his lifetime, though he had never
sinned deadly. And the whiles that a
soul is dwelling in this deadly flesh,
it shall evermore see and feel this
cumbrous cloud of unknowing betwixt
him and God. And not only that, but
in pain of the original sin it shall
evermore see and feel that some of all
the creatures that ever God made, or
some of their works, will evermore
press in remembrance betwixt it and
God. And this is the right wisdom of
God, that man, when he had sover-
eignty and lordship of all other crea-
tures, because that he wilfully made
him underling to the stirring of his sub-
jects, leaving the bidding of God and
his Maker ; that right so after, when
he would fulfil the bidding of God,
he saw and felt all the creatures that
should be beneath him, proudly press
above him, betwixt him and his God.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

NINE AND TWENTIETH

CHAPTER

That a man should biding/y travail in this
worh, and suffer the pain thereof, and
judge no man,

AND therefore, whoso coveteth to
come to cleanness that he lost for sin,
and to win to that well-being where
all woe wanteth, him behoveth bidingly
to travail in this work, and suffer the
pain thereof, whatsoever that he be :
whether he have been an accustomed
sinner or none.

All men have travail in this work ;
both sinners, and innocents that never
sinned greatly. But far greater travail
have those that have been sinners than
they that have been none ; and that is
great reason. Nevertheless, ofttimes
it befalleth that some that have been

169

170 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

horrible and accustomed sinners come
sooner to the perfection of this work
than those that have been none. And
this is the merciful miracle of our
Lord, that so specially giveth His
grace, to the wondering of all this
world. Now truly I hope that on
Doomsday it shall be fair, when that
God shall be seen clearly and all His
gifts. Then shall some that now be
despised and set at little or nought
as common sinners, and peradventure
some that now be horrible sinners, sit
full seemly with saints in His sight :
when some of those that seem now
full holy and be worshipped of men
as angels, and some of those yet
peradventure, that never yet sinned
deadly, shall sit full sorry amongst
hell caves.

Hereby mayest thou see that no
man should be judged of other here in
this life, for good nor for evil that they
do. Nevertheless deeds may lawfully
be judged, but not the man, whether
they be good or evil.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
THIRTIETH CHAPTER

Who should blame and condemn other
men's defaults.

BUT I pray thee, of whom shall men*s
deeds be judged ?

Surely of them that have power, and
cure of their souls : either given openly
by the statute and the ordinance of
Holy Church, or else privily in spirit
at the special stirring of the Holy
Ghost in perfect charity. Each man
beware, that he presume not to take
upon him to blame and condemn other
men's defaults, but if he feel verily
that he be stirred of the Holy Ghost
within in his work ; for else may he
full lightly err in his dooms. And
therefore beware : judge thyself as
thee list betwixt thee and thy God or
thy ghostly father, and let other men
alone.

171

HERE BEGINNETH THE

ONE AND THIRTIETH

CHAPTER

How a man should have him in beginning
of this work against all thoughts and
stirrings of sin.

AND from the time that thou feelest
that thou hast done that in thee is,
lawfully to amend thee at the doom
of Holy Church, then shalt thou set
thee sharply to work in this work.
And then if it so be that thy foredone
special deeds will always press in thy
remembrance betwixt thee and thy
God, or any new thought or stirring
of any sin either, thou shalt stalwartly
step above them with a fervent stirring
of love, and tread them down under
thy feet. And try to cover them with
a thick cloud of forgetting, as they
never had been done in this life of thee

17a

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 173

nor of other man either. And if they
oft rise, oft put them down : and
shortly to say, as oft as they rise, as
oft put them down. And if thee think
that the travail be great, thou mayest
seek arts and wiles and privy subtleties
of ghostly devices to put them away :
the which subtleties be better learned
of God by the proof than of any man
in this life.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

TWO AND THIRTIETH

CHAPTER

Of two ghostly devices that be helpful to a
ghostly beginner in the work of this booh.

NEVERTHELESS, somewhat of this
subtlety shall I tell thee as me think.
Prove thou and do better, if thou
better mayest. Do that in thee is, to
let be as thou wist not that they press
so fast upon thee betwixt thee and thy
God. And try to look as it were over
their shoulders, seeking another thing :
the which thing is God, enclosed in a
cloud of unknowing. And if thou do
thus, I trow that within short time
thou shalt be eased of thy travail.
I trow that an this device be well and
truly conceived, it is nought else but a
longing desire unto God, to feel Him

174

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 175

and see Him as it may be here : and
such a desire is charity, and it ob-
taineth always to be eased.

Another device there is : prove thou
if thou wilt. When thou feelest that
thou mayest on nowise put them down,
cower thou down under them as
a caitiff and a coward overcome in
battle, and think that it is but a folly to
thee to strive any longer with them,
and therefore thou yieldest thee to
God in the hands of thine enemies.
And feel then thyself as thou wert
foredone for ever. Take good heed of
this device I pray thee, for me think in
the proof of this device thou shouldest
melt all to water. And surely me
think an this device be truly con-
ceived it is nought else but a true
knowing and a feeling of thyself as
thou art, a wretch and a filthy, far
worse than nought : the which know-
ing and feeling is meekness. And
this meekness obtaineth to have God
Himself mightily descending, to venge
thee of thine enemies, for to take

176 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

thee up, and cherishingly dry thine
ghostly eyen ; as the father doth the
child that is in point to perish under
the mouths of wild swine or wode
biting bears.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

THREE AND THIRTIETH

CHAPTER

That In this work a soul is cleansed both
of his special sins and of the pain of
them, and yet how there is no perfect
rest in this life.

MORE devices tell I thee not at this
time ; for an thou have grace to feel
the proof of these, I trow that thou
shalt know better to learn me than I
thee. For although it should be thus,
truly yet me think that I am full far
therefrom. And therefore I pray thee
help me, and do thou for thee and
for me.

Do on then, and travail fast awhile,
I pray thee, and suffer meekly the
pain if thou mayest not soon win to
these arts. For truly it is thy purga-
tory, and then when thy pain is all

177 12

178 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

passed and thy devices be given of
God, and graciously gotten in custom ;
then it is no doubt to me that thou art
cleansed not only of sin, but also of the
pain of sin. I mean, of the pain of
thy special foredone sins, and not of
the pain of the original sin. For that
pain shall always last on thee to thy
death day, be thou never so busy.
Nevertheless, it shall but little provoke
thee, in comparison of this pain of thy
special sins ; and yet shalt thou not
be without great travail. For out of
this original sin will all day spring
new and fresh stirrings of sin : the
which thee behoveth all day to smite
down, and be busy to shear away with
a sharp double-edged dreadful sword
of discretion. And hereby mayest thou
see and learn, that there is no sooth-
fast security, nor yet no true rest in
this life.

Nevertheless, herefore shalt thou
not go back, nor yet be overfeared of
thy failing. For an it so be that thou
mayest have grace to destroy the pain

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 179

of thine foredone special deeds, in the
manner before said — or better if thou
better mayest — sure be thou, that the
pain of the original sin, or else the
new stirrings of sin that be to come,
shall but right little be able to provoke
thee.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FOUR AND THIRTIETH

CHAPTER

That God giueth this grace freely without
any means, and that it may not be come
to with means.

AND if thou askest me by what
means thou shalt come to this work, I
beseech Almighty God of His great
grace and His great courtesy to teach
thee Himself. For truly I do thee
well to wit that I cannot tell thee, and
that is no wonder. For why, that
is the work of only God, specially
wrought in what soul that Him liketh
without any desert of the same soul.
For without it no saint nor no angel
can think to desire it. And I trow
that our Lord as specially and as oft
— yea ! and more specially and more
oft — will vouchsafe to work this work

i8o

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING i8i

in them that have been accustomed
sinners, than in some other, that never
grieved Him greatly in comparison of
them. And this will He do, for He
will be seen all-merciful and almighty ;
and for He will be seen to work as
Him list, where Him list, and when
Him list.

And yet He giveth not this grace,
nor worketh not this work, in any soul
that is unable thereto. And yet, there
is no soul without this grace, able to
have this grace : none, whether it be
a sinner's soul or an innocent soul.
For neither it is given for innocence,
nor withholden for sin. Take good
heed, that I say withholden, and not
withdrawn. Beware of error here, I
pray thee ; for ever, the nearer men
touch the truth, more wary men be-
hoveth to be of error. I mean but
well : if thou canst not conceive it, lay
it by thy side till God come and teach
thee. Do then so, and hurt thee not.

Beware of pride, for it blasphemeth
God in His gifts, and boldeneth sinners.

i82 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

Wert thou verily meek, thou shouldest
feel of this work as I say : that God
giveth it freely without any desert.
The condition of this work is such,
that the presence thereof enableth a
soul for to have it and for to feel it.
And that ableness may no soul have
without it. The ableness to this work
is oned to the work's self without de-
parting ; so that whoso feeleth this
work is able thereto, and none else.
Insomuch, that without this work a
soul is as it were dead, and cannot
covet it nor desire it. Forasmuch
as thou wiliest it and desirest it, so
much hast thou of it, and no more nor
no less : and yet is it no will, nor no
desire, but a thing thou wottest never
what, that stirreth thee to will and
desire thou wottest never what. Reck
thee never if thou wittest no more, I
pray thee : but do forth ever more and
more, so that thou be ever doing.

And if I shall shortlier say, let jj
that thing do with thee and lead thee
whereso it list. Let it be the worker, jj

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 183

and you but the sufferer : do but look
upon it, and let it alone. Meddle thee
not therewith as thou wouldest help
it, for dread lest thou spill all. Be
thou but the tree, and let it be the
Wright : be thou but the house, and
let it be the husbandman dwelling
therein. Be blind in this time, and
shear away covetise of knowing, for
it will more let thee than help thee.
It sufficeth enough unto thee, that
thou feelest thee stirred likingly with
a thing thou wottest never what, else
that in this stirring thou hast no
special thought of any thing under
God ; and that thine intent be nakedly
directed unto God.

And if it be thus, trust then stead-
fastly that it is only God that stirreth
thy will and thy desire plainly by
Himself, without means either on His
part or on thine. And be not feared,
for the devil may not come so near.
He may never come to stir a man's
will, but occasionally and by means
from afar, be he never so subtle a devil.

I

i84 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

For sufficiently and without means
may no good angel stir thy will : nor,
shortly to say, nothing but only God.
So that thou mayest conceive here
by these words somewhat (but much
more clearly by the proof), that in this
work men shall use no means : nor
yet men may not come thereto with
means. All good means hang upon it,
and it on no means ; nor no means may
lead thereto.

n

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FIVE AND THIRTIETH

CHAPTER

Of three means in the which a contempla-
tive prentice should be occupied ; in read-
ing ^ thinliing, and praying.

NEVERTHELESS, means there be
in the which a contemplative prentice
should be occupied, the which be these
— Lesson, Meditation, and Orison : or
else to thine understanding they may
be called — Reading, Thinking, and
Praying. Of these three thou shalt
find written in another book of another
man's work, much better than I can
tell thee ; and therefore it needeth
not here to tell thee of the qualities
of them. But this may I tell thee :
these three be so coupled together,
that unto them that be beginners and
profiters^ — but not to them that be

185

i86 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

perfect, yea, as it may be here —
thinking may not goodly be gotten,
without reading or hearing coming
before. All is one in manner, read-
ing and hearing : clerks reading on
books, and lewd men reading on
clerks when they hear them preach
the word of God, Nor prayer may not
goodly be gotten in beginners and pro-
fiters, without thinking coming before.
See by the proof. In this same
course, God's word either written
or spoken is likened to a mirror.
Ghostly, the eyes of thy soul is thy
reason ; thy conscience is thy visage
ghostly. And right as thou seest that
if a foul spot be in thy bodily visage,
the eyes of the same visage may not
see that spot nor wit where it is, with-
out a mirror or a teaching of another
than itself ; right so it is ghostly, with-
out reading or hearing of God's word
it is impossible to man's understand-
ing that a soul that is blinded in
custom of sin should see the foul spot
in his conscience.

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 187

And so following, when a man seeth
in a bodily or ghostly mirror, or wots
by other men's teaching, whereabouts
the foul spot is on his visage, either
bodily or ghostly ; then at first, and
not before, he runneth to the well to
wash him. If this spot be any special
sin, then is this well Holy Church, and
this water confession, with the circum-
stances. If it be but a blind root and
a stirring of sin, then is this well
merciful God, and this water prayer,
with the circumstances. And thus
mayest thou see that no thinking may
goodly be gotten in beginners and
profiters, without reading or hearing
coming before : nor praying without
thinking.

HERE BEGINNETH THE SIX
AND THIRTIETH CHAPTER

Of the meditations of them that continu-
ally travail in the work of this book.

BUT it is not so with them that
continually work in the work of this
book. For their meditations be but
as they were sudden conceits and
blind feelings of their own wretched-
ness, or of the goodness of God ; with-
out any means of reading or hearing
coming before, and without any special
beholding of any thing under God.
These sudden conceits and these blind
feelings be sooner learned of God
than of man. I care not though thou
haddest nowadays none other medi-
tations of thine own wretchedness,
nor of the goodness of God (I mean
if thou feel thee thus stirred by grace
and by counsel), but such as thou

i88

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 189

mayest have in this word SIN, and
in this word GOD : or in such other,
which as thee Hst. Not breaking nor
expounding these words with curi-
osity of wit, in beholding after the
qualities of these words, as thou
wouldest by that beholding increase
thy devotion. I trow it should never
be so in this case and in this work.
But hold them all whole these words ;
and mean by sin, a lump^ thou wottest
never what, none other thing but thy-
self. Me think that in this blind be-
holding of sin, thus congealed in a
lump, none other thing than thyself,
it should be no need to bind a madder
thing, than thou shouldest be in this
time. And yet peradventure, whoso
looked upon thee should think thee
full soberly disposed in thy body,
without any changing of countenance ;
but sitting or going or lying, or leaning
or standing or kneeling, whether thou
wert, in a full sober restfulness.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

SEVEN AND THIRTIETH

CHAPTER

Of the special prayers of them that be
continual workers in the ujorh of this
booh.

AND right as the meditations of them
that continually work in this grace
and in this work rise suddenly without
any means, right so do their prayers.
I mean of their special prayers, not
of those prayers that be ordained of
Holy Church. For they that be true
workers in this work, they worship
no prayer so much : and therefore
they do them, in the form and in the
statute that they be ordained of holy
fathers before us. But their special
prayers rise evermore suddenly unto
God, without any meansj.or any pre-

190

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 191

[meditation in special coming before,
lor going therewith.

And if they be in words, as they be

mt seldom, then be they but in full

few words : yea, and in ever the fewer

the better. Yea, and if it be but a

little word of one syllable, me think

it better than of two : and more, too,

Lccording to the work of the spirit,

jince it so is that a ghostly worker

in this work should evermore be in

the highest and the sovereignest point

)f the spirit. That this be sooth, see

}y ensample in the course of nature.

man or a woman, afraid with any

mdden chance of fire or of man's

leath or what else that it be, suddenly

In the height of his spirit, he is driven

ipon haste and upon need for to cry

>r for to pray after help. Yea, how ?

lurely, not in many words, nor yet

in one word of two syllables. And

why is that ? For him thinketh it

over long tarrying for to declare the

need and the work of his spirit. And

therefore he bursteth up hideously

192 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

with a great spirit, and cryeth a little
word, but of one syllable : as is this
word ** fire," or this word '* out ! "

And right as this little word ** fire "
stirreth rather and pierceth more
hastily the ears of the hearers, so
doth a little word of one syllable
when it is not only spoken or thought,
but privily meant in the deepness of
spirit ; the which is the height, for
in ghostliness all is one, height and
deepness, length and breadth. And
rather it pierceth the ears of Almighty
God than doth any long psalter un-
mindfully mumbled in the teeth. And
herefore it is written, that short
prayer pierceth heaven.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

EIGHT AND THIRTIETH

CHAPTER

How and why that short prayer pieroeth
heaven.

AND why pierceth it heaven, this little
short prayer of one little syllable ?
Surely because it is prayed with a full
spirit, in the height and in the deep-
ness, in the length and in the breadth
of his spirit that prayeth it. In the
height it is, for it is with all the might
of the spirit. In the deepness it
is, for in this little syllable be con-
tained all the wits of the spirit. In
the length it is, for might it ever
feel as it feeleth, ever would it cry as
it cryeth. In the breadth it is, for it
willeth the same to all other that it
willeth to itself.

In this time it is that a soul hath
193 13

194 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

comprehended after the lesson of Saint
Paul with all saints — not fully, but in i
manner and in part, as it is according
unto this work — which is the length
and the breadth, the height and the
deepness of everlasting and all-lovely,
almighty, and all-witting God. The
everlastingness of God is His length.
His love is His breadth. His might
is His height. And His wisdom is
His deepness. No wonder though a
soul that is thus nigh conformed by
grace to the image and the likeness of
God his maker, be soon heard of God !
Yea, though it be a full sinful soul, the
which is to God as it were an enemy ;
an he might through grace come for
to cry such a little syllable in the
height and the deepness, the length
and the breadth of his spirit, yet he
should for the hideous noise of his cry
be always heard and helped of God.

See by ensample. He that is thy
deadly enemy, an thou hear him so
afraid that he cry in the height of his
spirit this little word " fire," or this

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 195

word '* out " ; yet without any behold-
ing to him for he is thine enemy, but
for pure pity in thine heart stirred and
raised with the dolefulness of this cry,
thou risest up — yea, though it be about
midwinter's night — and helpest him
to slack his fire, or for to still him and
rest him in his distress. Oh, Lord !
since a man may be made so merciful
in grace, to have so much mercy and
so much pity of his enemy, notwith-
standing his enmity, what pity and
what mercy shall God have then of a
ghostly cry in soul, made and wrought
in the height and the deepness, the
length and the breadth of his spirit ;
the which hath all by nature that man
hath by grace ? And much more,
surely without comparison, much more
mercy will He have ; since it is, that
that thing that is so had by nature is
nearer to an eternal thing than that
which is had by grace.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

NINE AND THIRTIETH

CHAPTER

How a perfect worker shall pray, and what
prayer is in itself \ and if a man shall
pray in words, which words accord them
most to the property of prayer,

AND therefore it is, to pray in the
height and the deepness, the length
and the breadth of our spirit. And
that not in many words, but in a little
word of one syllable.

And what shall this word be
Surely such a word as is best accord-
ing unto the property of prayer. An<
what word is that ? Let us first se<
what prayer is properly in itself, ant
thereafter we may clearlier know what
word will best accord to the proper!
of prayer.

Prayer in itself properly is not elsCj
196

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 197

but a devout intent direct unto God,
for getting of good and removing of
evil. And then, since it so is that all
evil be comprehended in sin, either by
cause or by being, let us therefore
when we will intentively pray for
removing of evil either say, or think,
or mean, nought else nor no more
words, but this little word ** sin."
And if we will intentively pray for get-
ting of good, let us cry, either with word
or with thought or with desire, nought
else nor no more words, but this word
** God." For why, in God be all good,
both by cause and by being. Have no
marvel why I set these words forby
all other. For if I could find any
shorter words, so fully comprehending
in them all good and all evil, as these
two words do, or if I had been learned
of God to take any other words either,
I would then have taken them and left
these ; and so I counsel that thou do.
Study thou not for no words, for so
shouldest thou never come to thy
purpose nor to this work, for it is

I

198 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

never got by study, but all only
by grace. And therefore take thou
none other words to pray in, although
I set these here, but such as thou art
stirred of God for to take. Neverthe-
less, if God stir thee to take these, I
counsel not that thou leave them ; I
mean if thou shalt pray in words, and
else not. For why, they be full short
words. But although the shortness
of prayer be greatly commended here,
nevertheless the oftness of prayer is
never the rather refrained. For as it
is said before, it is prayed in the
length of the spirit ; so that it should
never cease, till the time were that it
had fully gotten that that it longed
after. Ensample of this have we in a
man or a woman afraid in the manner
beforesaid. For we see well, that
they cease never crying on this little
word '' out," or this little word ** fire,"
ere the time be that they have in great
part gotten help of their grief.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
FORTIETH CHAPTER

That in the time of this work a soul hath
no special beholding to any vice in itself
nor to any virtue in itself

DO thou, on the same manner, fill thy
spirit with the ghostly bemeaning of
this word ^* sin," and without any
special beholding unto any kind of sin,
whether it be venial or deadly : Pride,
Wrath, or Envy, Covetyse, Sloth,
Gluttony, or Lechery. What recks it
in contemplatives, what sin that it be,
or how muckle a sin that it be ? For
all sins them thinketh — I mean for
the time of this work — alike great in
themselves, when the least sin de-
parteth them from God, and letteth
them of their ghostly peace.

And feel sin a lump, thou wottest
never what, but none other thing than

199

200 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

thyself. And cry then ghostly ever
upon one: "Sin, sin, sin! Out, out, out!"
This ghostly cry is better learned of
God by the proof, than of any man by
word. For it is best when it is in
pure spirit, without special thought or
any pronouncing of word ; unless it
be any seldom time, when for abun-
dance of spirit it bursteth up into
word, so that the body and the soul
be both filled with sorrow and cumber-
ing of sin.

On the same manner shalt thou do
with this little word '' God." Fill thy
spirit with the ghostly bemeaning of
it without any special beholding to any
of His works — whether they be good,
better, or best of all — bodily or ghostly,
or to any virtue that may be wrought
in man's soul by any grace ; not look-
ing after whether it be meekness or
charity, patience or abstinence, hope,
faith, or soberness, chastity or wilful
poverty. What recks this in contem-
platives } For all virtues they find
and feel in God ; for in Him is all

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 201

thing, both by cause and by being.
For they think that an they had God
they had all good, and therefore they
covet nothing with special beholding,
but only good God. Do thou on the
same manner as far forth as thou
mayest by grace : and mean God all,
and all God, so that nought work in
thy wit and in thy will, but only God.
And because that ever the whiles
thou livest in this wretched life, thee
behoveth always feel in some part this
foul stinking lump of sin, as it were
oned and congealed with the substance
of thy being, therefore shalt thou
changeably mean these two words —
sin and God. With this general
knowing, that an thou haddest God,
then shouldest thou lack sin : and
mightest thou lack sin, then shouldest
thou have God.

HERE BEGINNETH THE ONE
AND FORTIETH CHAPTER

That in all other works beneath this, men
should keep discretion ; but in this none.

AND furthermore, if thou ask me
what discretion thou shalt have in this
work, then I answer thee and say,
right none ! For in all thine other
doings thou shalt have discretion, as
in eating and in drinking, and in
sleeping and in keeping of thy body
from outrageous cold or heat, and in
long praying or reading, or in com-
muning in speech with thine even-
christian. In all these shalt thou keep
discretion, that they be neither too
much nor too little. But in this
work shalt thou hold no measure :
for I would that thou shouldest
never cease of this work the whiles
thou livest.

302

i

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 203

I say not that thou shalt continue
ever therein alike fresh, for that may
not be. For sometime sickness and
other unordained dispositions in body
and in soul, with many other needful-
ness to nature, will let thee full much,
and ofttimes draw thee down from the
height of this working. But I say
that thou shouldest evermore have it
either in earnest or in game ; that is
to say, either in work or in will. And
therefore for God's love be wary with
sickness as much as thou mayest
goodly, so that thou be not the cause
of thy feebleness, as far as thou may-
est. For I tell thee truly, that this
work asketh a full great restfulness,
and a full whole and clean disposi-
tion, as well in body as in soul.

And therefore for God's love govern
thee discreetly in body and in soul,
and get thee thine health as much as
thou mayest. And if sickness come
against thy power, have patience and
abide meekly God's mercy : and all is
then good enough. For I tell thee

204 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

truly, that ofttimes patience in sick-
ness and in other diverse tribulations
pleaseth God much more than any
liking devotion that thou mayest have
in thy health.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

TWO AND FORTIETH

CHAPTER

That by indiscretion in this, men shail
keep discretion in all other things; and
surely else never.

BUT peradventure thou askest me,
how thou shalt govern thee discreetly
in meat and in sleep, and in all these
other. And hereto I think to answer
thee right shortly : ** Get that thou get
mayest." Do this work evermore with-
out ceasing and without discretion,
and thou shalt well ken begin and
cease in all other works with a great
discretion. For I may not trow that
a soul continuing in this work night
and day without discretion, should err
in any of these outward doings ; and
else, me think that he should always
err.

205

2o6 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

And therefore, an I might get a
waking and a busy beholding to this
ghostly work within in my soul, I
would then have a heedlessness in
eating and in drinking, in sleeping
and in speaking, and in all mine out-
ward doings. For surely I trow I
should rather come to discretion in
them by such a heedlessness, than by
any busy beholding to the same things,
as I would by that beholding set a
mark and a measure by them. Truly
I should never bring it so about, for
ought that I could do or say. Say
what men say will, and let the proof
witness. And therefore lift up thine
heart with a blind stirring of love ;
and mean now sin, and now God.
God wouldest thou have, and sin
wouldest thou lack. God wanteth
thee ; and sin art thou sure of. Now
good God help thee, for now hast
thou need !

HERE BEGINNETH THE

THREE AND FORTIETH

CHAPTER

That all witting and feeling of a man's
own being must needs be lost if the perfec-
tion of this work shall uerily be felt in any
soul in this life.

LOOK that nought work in thy wit
nor in thy will but only God. And try
for to fell all witting and feeling of
ought under God, and tread all down
full far under the cloud of forgetting.
And thou shalt understand, that thou
shalt not only in this work forget all
other creatures than thyself, or their
deeds or thine, but also thou shalt in
this work forget both thyself and also
thy deeds for God, as well as all other
creatures and their deeds. For it is
the condition of a perfect lover, not
only to love that thing that he loveth

207

2o8 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

more than himself ; but also in a
manner for to hate himself for that
thing that he loveth.

Thus shalt thou do with thyself :
thou shalt loathe and be weary with
all that thing that worketh in thy wit
and in thy will unless it be only God.
For why, surely else, whatsoever that
it be, it is betwixt thee and thy God.
And no wonder though thou loathe
and hate for to think on thyself, when
thou shalt always feel sin, a foul stink-
ing lump thou wottest never what,
betwixt thee and thy God : the which
lump is none other thing than thyself.
For thou shalt think it oned and con-
gealed with the substance of thy being :
yea, as it were without departing.

And therefore break down all wit-
ting and feeling of all manner of
creatures ; but most busily of thyself.
For on the witting and the feeling of
thyself hangeth witting and feeling of
all other creatures ; for in regard of it,
all other creatures be lightly forgotten.
For, an thou wilt busily set thee to

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 209

the proof, thou shalt find when thou
hast forgotten all other creatures and
all their works — yea, and thereto all
thine own works — that there shall live
yet after, betwixt thee and thy God, a
naked witting and a feeling of thine
own being : the which witting and
feeling behoveth always be destroyed,
ere the time be that thou feel sooth-
fastly the perfection of this work.

14

2o8 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

more than himself ; but also in a
manner for to hate himself for that
thing that he loveth.

Thus shalt thou do with thyself :
thou shalt loathe and be weary with
all that thing that worketh in thy wit
and in thy will unless it be only God.
For why, surely else, whatsoever that
it be, it is betwixt thee and thy God.
And no wonder though thou loathe
and hate for to think on thyself, when
thou shalt always feel sin, a foul stink-
ing lump thou wottest never what,
betwixt thee and thy God : the which
lump is none other thing than thyself.
For thou shalt think it oned and con-
gealed with the substance of thy being :
yea, as it were without departing.

And therefore break down all wit-
ting and feeling of all manner of
creatures ; but most busily of thyself.
For on the witting and the feeling of
thyself hangeth witting and feeling of
all other creatures ; for in regard of it,
all other creatures be lightly forgotten.
For, an thou wilt busily set thee to

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 209

the proof, thou shalt find when thou
hast forgotten all other creatures and
all their works — yea, and thereto all
thine own works — that there shall live
yet after, betwixt thee and thy God, a
naked witting and a feeling of thine
own being : the which witting and
feeling behoveth always be destroyed,
ere the time be that thou feel sooth-
fastly the perfection of this work.

14

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FOUR AND FORTIETH

CHAPTER

Hou) a soul shall dispose it on its own
part, for to destroy all witting and feeling
of its own being.

BUT now thou askest me, how thou
mayest destroy this naked witting and
feeling of thine own being. For per-
adventure thou thinkest that an it
were destroyed, all other lettings
were destroyed : and if thou thinkest
thus, thou thinkest right truly. But
to this I answer thee and I say, that
without a full special grace full freely
given of God, and thereto a full ac-
cording ableness to receive this grace
on thy part, this naked witting and
feeling of thy being may on nowise
be destroyed. And this ableness is

2X0

P

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 211

nought else but a strong and a deep
ghostly sorrow.

But in this sorrow needeth thee
to have discretion, on this manner :
thou shalt be wary in the time of this
sorrow, that thou neither too rudely
strain thy body nor thy spirit, but
sit full still, as it were in a sleeping
device, all forsobbed and forsunken in
sorrow. This is true sorrow ; this is
perfect sorrow ; and well were him
that might win to this sorrow. All
men have matter of sorrow : but most
specially he feeleth matter of sorrow,
that wotteth and feeleth that he is.
All other sorrows be unto this in
comparison but as it were game to
earnest. For he may make sorrow
earnestly, that wotteth and feeleth
not only what he is, but that he is.
And whoso felt never this sorrow, he
may make sorrow : for why, he felt yet
never perfect sorrow. This sorrow,
when it is had, cleanseth the soul, not
only of sin, but also of pain that it
hath deserved for sin ; and thereto it

212 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

maketh a soul able to receive that
joy, the which reeveth from a man all
witting and feeling of his being.

This sorrow, if it be truly conceived,
is full of holy desire : and else might
never man in this life abide it nor
bear it. For were it not that a soul
were somewhat fed with a manner
of comfort of his right working, else
should he not be able to bear the pain
that he hath of the witting and feeling
of his being. For as oft as he would
have a true witting and a feeling of
his God in purity of spirit, as it may
be here, and sithen feeleth that he
may not — for he findeth evermore his
witting and his feeling as it were
occupied and filled with a foul stinking
lump of himself, the which behoveth
always be hated and be despised and
forsaken, if he shall be God's perfect
disciple learned of Himself in the
mount of perfection — so oft, he goeth
nigh mad for sorrow. Insomuch,
that he weepeth and waileth, striveth,
curseth, and banneth ; and shortly to

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 213

say, him thinketh that he beareth so
heavy a burthen of himself that he
careth never what betides him, so that
God were pleased. And yet in all this
sorrow he desireth not to unbe : for
that were devil's madness and despite
unto God. But him listeth right well
to be ; and he intendeth full heartily
thanking to God, for the worthiness
and the gift of his being, for all that
he desire unceasingly for to lack the
witting and the feeling of his being.

This sorrow and this desire behoveth
every soul have and feel in itself,
either in this manner or in another ;
as God vouchsafeth for to learn to His
ghostly disciples after His well willing
and their according ableness in body
and in soul, in degree and disposition,
ere the time be that they may perfectly
be oned unto God in perfect charity —
such as may be had here — if God
vouchsafeth.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FIVE AND FORTIETH

CHAPTER

A good declaring of some certain deceits
that may befall in this work.

BUT one thing I tell thee, that in
this work may a young disciple that
hath not yet been well used and
proved in ghostly working, full lightly
be deceived ; and, but he be soon
wary, and have grace to leave off and
meek him to counsel, peradventure
be destroyed in his bodily powers and
fall into fantasy in his ghostly wits.
And all this is along of pride, and of
fleshliness and curiosity of wit.

And on this manner may this deceit
befall. A young man or a woman
new set to the school of devotion
heareth this sorrow and this desire
be read and spoken : how that a man

214

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 215

shall lift up his heart unto God, and
unceasingly desire for to feel the love
of his God. And as fast in a curiosity
of wit they conceive these words not
ghostly as they be meant, but fleshly
and bodily ; and travail their fleshly
hearts outrageously in their breasts.
And what for lacking of grace and
pride and curiosity in themselves, they
strain their veins and their bodily
powers so beastly and so rudely, that
within short time they fall either into
frenzies, weariness, and a manner of
unlisty feebleness in body and in soul,
the which maketh them to wend out
of themselves and seek some false
and some vain fleshly and bodily
comfort without, as it were for re-
creation of body and of spirit : or else,
if they fall not in this, else they merit
for ghostly blindness, and for fleshly
chafing of their nature in their bodily
breasts in the time of this feigned
beastly and not ghostly working, for
to have their breasts either enflamed
with an unkindly heat of nature

2i6 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

caused of misruling of their bodies
or of this feigned working, or else
they conceive a false heat wrought
by the Fiend, their ghostly enemy,
caused of their pride and of their
fieshliness and their curiosity of wit.
And yet peradventure they ween it be
the fire of love, gotten and kindled
by the grace and the goodness of the
Holy Ghost. Truly, of this deceit,
and of the branches thereof, spring
many mischiefs : much hypocrisy,
much heresy, and much error. For
as fast after such a false feeling
Cometh a false knowing in the Fiend's
school, right as after a true feeling
Cometh a true knowing in God's
school. For I tell thee truly, that the
devil hath his contemplatives as God
hath His.

This deceit of false feeling, and ofi
false knowing following thereon, hathl
diverse and wonderful variations, after j
the diversity of states and the subtle]
conditions of them that be deceived :i
as hath the true feeling and knowing

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 217

of them that be saved. But I set no
more deceits here but those with the
which I trow thou shalt be assailed
if ever thou purpose thee to work in
this work. For what should it profit
to thee to wit how these great clerks,
and men and women of other degrees
than thou art, be deceived ? Surely
right nought ; and therefore I tell
thee no more but those that fall unto
thee if thou travail in this work.
And therefore I tell thee this, for
thou shalt be wary therewith in thy
working, if thou be assailed there-
with.

HERE BEGINNETH THE SIX
AND FORTIETH CHAPTER

A good teaching how a man shall flee
these deceits, and work more with a listi-
ness of spirit, than with any boisterous-
ness of body.

AND therefore for God's love be
wary in this work, and strain not
thine heart in thy breast over-rudely
nor out of measure ; but work more
with a Hst than with any worthless
strength. For ever the more listily,
the more meekly and ghostly : and
ever the more rudely, the more bodily
and beastly. And therefore be wary,
for surely what beastly heart that pre-
sumeth for to touch the high mount
of this work, it shall be beaten away
with stones. Stones be hard and dry
in their kind, and they hurt full sore
where they hit. And surely such rude

218

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 219

strainings be full hard fastened in
fleshliness of bodily feeling, and full
dry from any witting of grace ; and
they hurt full sore the silly soul, and
make it fester in fantasy feigned of
fiends. And therefore be wary with
this beastly rudeness, and learn thee
to love listily, with a soft and a demure
behaviour as well in body as in soul ;
and abide courteously and meekly the
will of our Lord, and snatch not over-
hastily, as it were a greedy greyhound,
hunger thee never so sore. And,
gamingly be it said, I counsel that
thou do that in thee is, refraining the
rude and the great stirring of thy spirit,
right as thou on nowise wouldest let
Him wit how fain thou wouldest see
Him, and have Him or feel Him.

This is childishly and playingly
spoken, thee think peradventure.
But I trow whoso had grace to do
and feel as I say, he should feel good
gamesome play with Him, as the
father doth with the child, kissing and
clipping, that well were him so.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

SEVEN AND FORTIETH

CHAPTER

A slight teaching of this work in purity
of spirit; declaring how that on one
manner a soul should shew his desire unto
God, and on ye contrary unto man.

LOOK thou have no wonder why that
I speak thus childishly, and as it were
follily and lacking natural discretion ;
for I do it for certain reasons, and as
me thinketh that I have been stirred
many days, both to feel thus and think
thus and say thus, as well to some
other of my special friends in God, as
I am now unto thee.

And one reason is this, why that I
bid thee hide from God the desire of
thine heart. For I hope it should
more clearly come to His knowing,
for thy profit and in fulfilling of thy

220

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 221

desire, by such an hiding, than it should
by any other manner of shewing that
I trow thou couldest yet shew. And
another reason is, for I would by such
a hid shewing bring thee out of the
boisterousness of bodily feeling into
the purity and deepness of ghostly
feeling ; and so furthermore at the last
to help thee to knit the ghostly knot
of burning love betwixt thee and thy
God, in ghostly onehead and according
of will.

Thou wottest well this, that God is
a Spirit ; and whoso should be oned
unto Him, it behoveth to be in sooth-
fastness and deepness of spirit, full far
from any feigned bodily thing. Sooth
it is that all thing is known of God, and
nothing may be hid from His witting,
neither bodily thing nor ghostly. But
more openly is that thing known and
shewed unto Him, the which is hid in
deepness of spirit, sith it so is that He
is .a Spirit, than is anything that is
mingled with any manner of bodily-
ness. For all bodily thing is farther

222 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

from God by the course of nature than
any ghostly thing. By this reason it
seemeth, that the whiles our desire
is mingled with any matter of bodily-
ness, as it is when we stress and strain
us in spirit and in body together, so
long it is farther from God than it
should be, an it were done more de-
voutly and more listily in soberness
and in purity and in deepness of spirit.
And here mayest thou see somewhat
and in part the reason why that I bid
thee so childishly cover and hide the
stirring of thy desire from God. And
yet I bid thee not plainly hide it ; for
that were the bidding of a fool, for to
bid thee plainly do that which on no-
wise may be done. But I bid thee do
that in thee is to hide it. And why
bid I thus ? Surely because I would
that thou cast it into deepness of spirit,
far from any rude mingling of any
bodilyness, the which would make it
less ghostly and farther from God in-
asmuch : and because I wot well that
ever the more that thy spirit hath of

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 223

ghostliness, the less it hath of bodily-
ness and the nearer it is to God, and
the better it pleaseth Him and the
more clearly it may be seen of Him.
Not that His sight may be any time or
in any thing more clear than in another,
for it is evermore unchangeable : but
because it is more like unto Him, when
it is in purity of spirit, for He is a Spirit.
Another reason there is, why that I
bid thee do that in thee is to let Him
not wit : for thou and I and many
such as we be, we be so able to con-
ceive a thing bodily the which is said
ghostly, that peradventure an I had
bidden thee shew unto God the stirring
of thine heart, thou shouldest have
made a bodily shewing unto Him, either
in gesture or in voice, or in word, or
in some other rude bodily straining,
as it is when thou shalt shew a thing
that is hid in thine heart to a bodily
man : and insomuch thy work should
have been impure. For on one manner
shall a thing be shewed to man, and
on another manner unto God.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

EIGHT AND FORTIETH

CHAPTER

How God will be served both with body
and with soul, and reward men in both;
and how men shall know when all those
sounds and sweetness that fall into the
body in time of prayer be both good and
evil.

I SAY not this because I will that
thou desist any time, if thou be stirred
for to pray with thy mouth, or for to
burst out for abundance of devotion
in thy spirit for to speak unto God as
unto man, and say some good word as
thou feelest thee stirred : as be these,
*'GoodJESU! Fair JESU! Sweet
JESU ! " and all such other. Nay, God
forbid thou take it thus ! For truly I
mean not thus, and God forbid that I
should depart that which God hath

224

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 225

coupled, the body and the spirit. For
God will be served with body and with
soul both together, as seemly is, and
will reward man his meed in bliss,
both in body and in soul. And in
earnest of that meed, sometimes He
will enflame the body of devout ser-
vants of His here in this life : not once
or twice, but peradventure right oft
and as Him liketh, with full wonderful
sweetness and comforts. Of the which,
some be not coming from without into
the body by the windows of our wits,
but from within ; rising and springing
of abundance of ghostly gladness, and
of true devotion in the spirit. Such a
comfort and such a sweetness shall not
be had suspect : and shortly to say, I
trow that he that feeleth it may not
have it suspect.

But all other comforts, sounds and
gladness and sweetness, that come
from without suddenly and thou wet-
test never whence, I pray thee have
them suspect. For they may be both
good and evil ; wrought by a good

IS

226 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

angel if they be good, and by an evil
angel if they be evil. And this may on
nowise be evil, if their deceits of curi-
osity of wit, and of unordained strain-
ing of the fleshly heart be removed as
I learn thee, or better if thou better
mayest. And why is that ? Surely
for the cause of this comfort ; that is to
say, the devout stirring of love, the
which dwelleth in pure spirit. It is
wrought of the hand of Almighty
God without means, and therefore it
behoveth always be far from any
fantasy, or any false opinion that may
befall to man in this life.

And of the tother comforts and
sounds and sweetness, how thou
shouldest wit whether they be good
or evil I think not to tell thee at this
time : and that is because me think
that it needeth not. For why, thou
mayest find it written in another place
of another man's work, a thousand-
fold better than I can say or write :
and so mayest thou this that I set here,
far better than it is here. But what

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 227

thereof ? Therefore shall I not let,
nor it shall not noye me, to fulfil the
desire and the stirring of thine heart ;
the which thou hast shewed thee to
have unto me before this time in thy
words, and now in thy deeds.

But this may I say thee of those
sounds and of those sweetnesses, that
come in by the windows of thy wits,
the which may be both good and evil.
Use thee continually in this blind and
devout and this listy stirring of love
that I tell thee : and then I have no
doubt, that it shall not well be able to
tell thee of them. And if thou yet be
in part astonished of them at the first
time, and that is because that they be
uncouth, yet this shall it do thee : it
shall bind thine heart so fast, that thou
shalt on nowise give full great cre-
dence to them, ere the time be that
thou be either certified of them within
wonderfully by the Spirit of God, or
else without by counsel of some
discreet father.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
FIFTIETH CHAPTER

Which is chaste loue ; and how in some
creatures such sensible comforts be but
seldom, and in some right oft.

AND hereby mayest thou see that we
should direct all our beholding unto
this meek stirring of love in our will.
And in all other sweetness and com-
forts, bodily or ghostly, be they never
so liking nor so holy, if it be courteous
and seemly to say, we should have a
manner of recklessness. If they come,
welcome them : but lean not too muchj
on them for fear of feebleness, for i1
will take full much of thy powers t(
bide any long time in such sweetl
feelings and weepings. And perad-j
venture thou mayest be stirred for t<
love God for them, and that shalt thoi
feel by this : if thou grumble overmucl

230

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 231

when they be away. And if it be thus,
thy love is not yet neither chaste nor
perfect. For a love that is chaste and
perfect, though it suffer that the body
be fed and comforted in the presence
of such sweet feelings and weepings,
nevertheless yet it is not grumbling,
but full well pleased for to lack them
at God's will. And yet it is not
commonly without such comforts in
some creatures, and in some other
creatures such sweetness and comforts
be but seldom.

And all this is after the disposition
and the ordinance of God, all after the
profit and the needfulness of diverse
creatures. For some creatures be so
weak and so tender in spirit, that
unless they were somewhat comforted
by feeling of such sweetness, they
might on nowise abide nor bear the
diversity of temptations and tribula-
tions that they suffer and be travailed
with in this life of their bodily and
ghostly enemies. And some there be
that they be so weak in body that they

232 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

may do no great penance to cleanse
them with. And these creatures will
our Lord cleanse full graciously in
spirit by such sweet feelings and
weepings. And also on the tother
part there be some creatures so strong
in spirit, that they can pick them
comfort enough within in their souls,
in offering up of this reverent and this
meek stirring of love and accordance
of will, that them needeth not much to
be fed with such sweet comforts in
bodily feelings. Which of these be
holier or more dear with God, one than
another, God wots and I not.

HERE BEGINNETH THE ONE
AND FIFTIETH CHAPTER

That men should have great wariness so
that they understand not bodily a thing
that is meant ghostly; and specially it
is good to be wary in understanding of
this word " in^*' and of this word "up."

AND therefore lean meekly to this
blind stirring of love in thine heart.
I mean not in thy bodily heart, but in
thy ghostly heart, the which is thy
will. And be well wary that thou
conceive not bodily that that is said
ghostly. For truly I tell thee, that
bodily and fleshly conceits of them
that have curious and imaginative
wits be cause of much error.

Ensample of this mayest thou see,
by that that I bid thee hide thy desire
from God in that that in thee is. For
peradventure an I had bidden thee

233

234 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

shew thy desire unto God, thou
shouldest have conceived it more
bodily than thou dost now, when I
bid thee hide it. For thou wottest
well, that all that thing that is wilfully
hidden, it is cast into the deepness of
spirit. And thus me thinketh that it
needeth greatly to have much wariness
in understanding of words that be
spoken to ghostly intent, so that thou
conceive them not bodily but ghostly,
as they be meant : and specially it is
good to be wary with this word in,
and this word up. For in miscon-
ceiving of these two words hangeth
much error, and much deceit in them
that purpose them to be ghostly
workers, as me thinketh. Somewhat
wot I by the proof, and somewhat byj
hearsay ; and of these deceits list nn
tell thee a little as me thinketh.

A young disciple in God's school]
new turned from the world, the same]
weeneth that for a little time that hej
hath given him to penance and t<
prayer, taken by counsel in confes-

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 235

sion, that he be therefore able to take
upon him ghostly working of the
which he heareth men speak or read
about him, or peradventure readeth
himself. And therefore when they
read or hear spoken of ghostly work-
ing— and specially of this word, '' how
a man shall draw all his wit within
himself," or '* how he shall climb above
himself " — as fast for blindness in soul,
and for fleshliness and curiosity of
natural wit, they misunderstand these
words, and ween, because they find in
them a natural covetyse to hid things,
that they be therefore called to that
work by grace. Insomuch, that if
counsel will not accord that they shall
work in this work, as soon they feel
a manner of grumbling against their
counsel, and think — yea and per-
adventure say to such other as they
be — that they can find no man that
can wit what they mean fully. And
therefore as fast, for boldness and
presumption of their curious wit, they
leave meek prayer and penance over

236 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

soon ; and set them, they ween, to a
full ghostly work within in their soul.
The which work, an it be truly con-
ceived, is neither bodily working nor
ghostly working ; and shortly to say,
it is a working against nature, and
the devil is the chief worker thereof.
And it is the readiest way to death of
body and of soul, for it is madness
and no wisdom, and leadeth a man
even to madness. And yet they ween
not thus : for they purpose them in
this work to think on nought but
on God.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

TWO AND FIFTIETH

CHAPTER

How these young presumptuous disciples
misunderstand this word "in^" and of the
deceits that follow thereon.

AND on this manner is this madness
wrought that I speak of. They read
and hear well said that they should
leave outward working with their wits,
and work inwards : and because that
they know not which is inward work-
ing, therefore they work wrong. For
they turn their bodily wits inwards
to their body against the course of
nature ; and strain them, as they
would see inwards with their bodily
eyes and hear inwards with their ears,
and so forth of all their wits, smelling,
tasting, and feeling inwards. And
thus they reverse them against the
course of nature, and with this curiosity

237

238 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

they travail their imagination so in-
discreetly, that at the last they turn
their brain in their heads, and then as
fast the devil hath power for to feign
some false light or sounds, sweet
smells in their noses, wonderful tastes
in their mouths ; and many quaint
heats and burnings in their bodily
breasts or in their bowels, in their
backs and in their reins and in their
members.

And yet in this fantasy them think
that they have a restful remembrance
of their God without any letting of
vain thoughts ; and surely so have
they in manner, for they be so filled in
falsehood that vanity may not provoke
them. And why ? Because he, that
same fiend that should minister vain
thoughts to them an they were in good
way — he, that same, is the chief worker
of this work. And wit thou right well,
that him list not to let himself. The
remembrance of God will he not put,
from them, for fear that he should bC]
had in suspect.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

THREE AND FIFTIETH

CHAPTER

Of divers unseemly practices that follow
them that lack the work of this book.

MANY wonderful practices follow
them that be deceived in this false
work, or in any species thereof,
beyond that doth them that be God's
true disciples : for they be evermore
full seemly in all their practices, bodily
or ghostly. But it is not so of these
other. For whoso would or might
j behold unto them where they sit in
this time, an it so were that their eye-
lids were open, he should see them
stare as they were mad, and leeringly
^ look as if they saw the devil. Surely
^ it is good they be wary, for truly the
f fiend is not far. Some set their eyes
in their heads as they were sturdy

239

240 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

sheep beaten in the head, and as they
should die anon. Some hang their
heads on one side as if a worm were
in their ears. Some pipe when they
should speak, as if there were no
spirit in their bodies : and this is
the proper condition of an hypocrite.
Some cry and whine in their throats,
so be they greedy and hasty to say
that they think : and this is the condi-
tion of heretics, and of them that with
presumption and with curiosity of wit
will always maintain error.

Many unordained and unseemly
practices follow on this error, whoso
might perceive all. Nevertheless some
there be that be so curious that they
can refrain them in great part when
they come before men. But might
these men be seen in place where they
be homely, then I trow they should not
be hid. And nevertheless yet I trow
that whoso would straitly gainsay
their opinion, that they should soon
see them burst out in some point ; and
yet them think that all that ever they

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 241

do, it is for the love of God and for to
maintain the truth. Now truly I hope
that unless God shew His merciful
miracle to make them soon leave off,
they shall love God so long on this
manner, that they shall go staring
mad to the devil. I say not that the
devil hath so perfect a servant in this
life, that is deceived and infect with all
these fantasies that I set here : and
nevertheless yet it may be that one,
yea, and many one, be infect with them
all. But I say that he hath no perfect
hypocrite nor heretic in earth that
he is not guilty in some that I have
said, or peradventure shall say if God
vouchsafeth.

For some men are so cumbered in
nice curious customs in bodily bearing,
that when they shall ought hear, they
writhe their heads on one side quaintly,
and up with the chin : they gape with
their mouths as they should hear with
their mouth and not with their ears.
Some when they should speak point
with their fingers, either on their

16

242 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

fingers, or on their own breasts, or on
theirs that they speak to. Some can
neither sit still, stand still, nor lie still,
unless they be either wagging with
their feet or else somewhat doing with
their hands. Some row with their
arms in time of their speaking, as
them needed for to swim over a great
water. Some be evermore smiling
and laughing at every other word that
they speak, as they were giggling
girls and nice japing jugglers lacking
behaviour. Seemly cheer were full
fair, with sober and demure bearing of
body and mirth in manner.

I say not that all these unseemly
practices be great sins in themselves,
nor yet all those that do them be
great sinners themselves. But I say
if that these unseemly and unordained
practices be governors of that man
that doth them, insomuch that he
may not leave them when he will, then
I say that they be tokens of pride and
curiosity of wit, and of unordained
shewing and covetyse of knowing.

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 243

And specially they be very tokens of
unstableness of heart and unrestful-
ness of mind, and specially of the
lacking of the work of this book. And
this is the only reason why that I set
so many of these deceits here in this
writing ; for why, that a ghostly worker
shall prove his work by them.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FOUR AND FIFTIETH

CHAPTER

How that by virtue of this ujorli a man is
gouerned full wisely, and made full seemly
as well in body as in soul.

WHOSO had this work, it should
govern them full seemly, as well in
body as in soul : and make them full
favourable unto each man or woman
that looked upon them. Insomuch,
that the worst favoured man or woman
that liveth in this life, an they might
come by grace to work in this work,
their favour should suddenly and
graciously be changed : that each
good man that them saw, should be
fain and joyful to have them in com-
pany, and full much they should think
that they were pleased in spirit and
holpen by grace unto God in their
presence.

244

f

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 245

And therefore get this gift whoso
by grace get may : for whoso hath it
verily, he shall well con govern himself
by the virtue thereof, and all that
longeth unto him. He should well
give discretion, if need were, of all
natures and all dispositions. He
should well con make himself like unto
all that with him communed, whether
they were accustomed sinners or none,
without sin in himself : in wondering
of all that him saw, and in drawing of
others by help of grace to the work of
that same spirit that he worketh in
himself.

His cheer and his words should be
full of ghostly wisdom, full of fire, and
of fruit spoken in sober soothfastness
without any falsehood, far from any
feigning or piping of hypocrites. For
some there be that with all their might,
inner and outer, imagineth in their
speaking how they may stuff them
and underprop them on each side from
falling, with many meek piping words
and gestures of devotion : more look-

246 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

ing after for to seem holy in sight of
men, than for to be so in the sight
of God and His angels. For why,
these folk will more weigh, and more
sorrow make for an unordained ges-
ture or unseemly or unfitting word
spoken before men, than they will for
a thousand vain thoughts and stinking
stirrings of sin wilfully drawn upon
them, or recklessly used in the sight
of God and the saints and the angels
in heaven. Ah, Lord God ! where
there be any pride within, there such
meek piping words be so plenteous
without. I grant well, that it is fitting
and seemly to them that be meek with-
in, for to shew meek and seemly words
and gestures without, according to
that meekness that is within in the
heart. But I say not that they shall
then be snewed in broken nor in piping
voices, against the plain disposition of
their nature that speak them. For
why, if they be true, then be they
spoken in soothfastness, and in whole-
ness of voice and of their spirit that

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 247

speak them. And if he that hath a
plain and an open boisterous voice by
nature speak them poorly and pip-
ingly — I mean but if he be sick in his
body, or else that it be betwixt him and
his God or his confessor — then it is a
very token of hypocrisy. I mean either
young hypocrisy or old.

And what shall I more say of these
venomous deceits ? Truly I trow, un-
less they have grace to leave ofi such
piping hypocrisy, that betwixt that
privy pride in their hearts within and
such meek words without, the silly
soul may full soon sink into sorrow.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FIVE AND FIFTIETH

CHAPTER

How they be deceived that follow the
fervour of spirit in condemning of some
without discretion.

SOME men the fiend will deceive
on this manner. Full wonderfully he
will enflame their brains to maintain
God's law, and to destroy sin in all
other men. He will never tempt them
with a thing that is openly evil ; he
maketh them like busy prelates watch-
ing over all the degrees of Christian
men's living, as an abbot over his
monks. All men will they reprove of
their defaults, right as they had cure
of their souls : and yet they think that
they do not else for God, unless they
tell them their defaults that they see.
And they say that they be stirred

248

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 249

thereto by the fire of charity, and of
God's love in their hearts : and truly
they lie, for it is with the fire of hell,
welling in their brains and in their
imagination.

That this is sooth, it seemeth by this
that followeth. The devil is a spirit,
and of his own nature he hath no body,
more than hath an angel. But yet
nevertheless what time that he or an
angel shall take any body by leave of
God, to make any ministration to any
man in this life ; according as the work
is that he shall minister, thereafter in
likeness is the quality of his body in
some part. Ensample of this we have
in Holy Writ. As oft as any angel
was sent in body in the Old Testament
and in the New also, evermore it was
shewed, either by his name or by some
instrument or quality of his body, what
his matter or his message was in
spirit. On the same manner it fareth
of the fiend. For when he appeareth
in body, he figureth in some quality of
his body what his servants be in spirit.

250 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

Ensample of this may be seen in one
instead of all these other. For as I
have conceived by some disciples of
necromancy, the which have it in
science for to make advocation of
wicked spirits, and by some unto
whom the fiend hath appeared in
bodily likeness ; that in what bodily
likeness the fiend appeareth, evermore
he hath but one nostril, and that is
great and wide, and he will gladly
cast it up that a man may see in
thereat to his brain up in his head.
The which brain is nought else but
the fire of hell, for the fiend may have
none other brain ; and if he might
make a man look in thereto, he wants
no better. For at that looking, he
should lose his wits for ever. But
a perfect prentice of necromancy
knoweth this well enough, and can
well ordain therefore, so that he pro-
voke him not.

Therefore it is that I say, and have
said, that evermore when the devil
taketh any body, he figureth in some

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 251

quality of his body what his servants
be in spirit. For he enflameth so the
imagination of his contemplatives with
the fire of hell, that suddenly without
discretion they shoot out their curious
conceits, and without any advisement
they will take upon them to blame other
men's defaults over soon : and this
is because they have but one nostril
ghostly. For that division that is in
a man's nose bodily, and the which de-
parteth the one nostril from the tother,
betokeneth that a man should have
discretion ghostly ; and. can dissever
the good from the evil, and the evil
from the worse, and the good from the
better, ere that he gave any full doom
of anything that he heard or saw done
or spoken about him. And by a man's
brain is ghostly understood imagina-
tion ; for by nature it dwelleth and
worketh in the head.

HERE BEGINNETH THE SIX
AND FIFTIETH CHAPTER

How they be deceived that lean more to
the curiosity of natural wit, and of clergy
learned in the school of men, than to
the common doctrine and counsel of Holy
Church.

SOME there be, that although they be
not deceived with this error as it is set
here, yet for pride and curiosity of
natural wit and letterly cunning leave
the common doctrine and the counsel
of Holy Church. And these with all
their favourers lean over much to their
own knowing : and for they were never
grounded in meek blind feeling and
virtuous living, therefore they merit
to have a false feeling, feigned and
wrought by the ghostly enemy. Inso-
much, that at the last they burst up
and blaspheme all the saints, sacra-

252

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 253

ments, statutes, and ordinances of
Holy Church. Fleshly living men of
the world, the which think the statutes
of Holy Church over hard to be a-
mended by, they lean to these heretics
full soon and full lightly, and stalwartly
maintain them, and all because them
think that they lead them a softer way
than is ordained of Holy Church.

Now truly I trow, that who that
will not go the strait way to heaven,
that they shall go the soft way to hell.
Each man prove by himself, for I trow
that all such heretics, and all their
favourers, an they might clearly be
seen as they shall on the last day,
should be seen full soon cumbered in
great and horrible sins of the world in
their foul flesh, privily, without their
open presumption in maintaining of
error : so that they be full properly
called Antichrist's disciples. For it is
said of them, that for all their false
fairness openly, yet they should be full
foul lechers privily.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

SEVEN AND FIFTIETH

CHAPTER

HoLu these young presumptuous disciples
misunderstand this other word "up"; and
of the deceits thatfolloiu thereon.

NO more of these at this time now :
but forth of our matter, how that these
young presumptuous ghostly disciples
misunderstand this other word up.

For if it so be, that they either read,
or hear read or spoken, how that men
should lift up their hearts unto God,
as fast they stare in the stars as if
they would be above the moon, and
hearken when they shall hear any
angel sing out of heaven. These men
will sometime with the curiosity of
their imagination pierce the planets,
and make an hole in the firmament to
look in thereat. These men will make

a54

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 255

a God as them list, and clothe Him full
richly in clothes, and set Him in a
throne far more curiously than ever
was He depicted in this earth. These
men will make angels in bodily like-
ness, and set them about each one
with diverse minstrelsy, far more
curious than ever was any seen or
heard in this life. Some of these men
the devil will deceive full wonderfully.
For he will send a manner of dew,
angels' food they ween it be, as it were
coming out of the air, and softly and
sweetly falling in their mouths ; and
therefore they have it in custom to
sit gaping as they would catch flies.
Now truly all this is but deceit, seem
it never so holy ; for they have in this
time full empty souls of any true devo-
tion. Much vanity and falsehood is
in their hearts, caused of their curious
working. Insomuch, that ofttimes the
devil feigneth quaint sounds in their
ears, quaint lights and shining in
their eyes, and wonderful smells in
their noses : and all is but falsehood.

256 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

I

And yet ween they not so, for them
think that they have ensample of
Saint Martin of this upward looking
and working, that saw by revelation
God clad in his mantle amongst His
angels, and of Saint Stephen that saw
our Lord stand in heaven, and of many
other ; and of Christ, that ascended
bodily to heaven, seen of His disciples.
And therefore they say that we should
have our eyes up thither. I grant
well that in our bodily observance we
should lift up our eyes and our hands
if we be stirred in spirit. But I say
that the work of our spirit shall not
be direct neither upwards nor down-
wards, nor on one side nor on other,
nor forward nor backward, as it is of
a bodily thing. For why, our work
should be ghostly not bodily, nor on a
bodily manner wrought.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

EIGHT AND FIFTIETH

CHAPTER

That a man shall not take ensample of
Saint Martin and of Saint Stephen, for to
strain his imagination bodily upwards in
the time of his prayer.

FOR that that they say of Saint
Martin and of Saint Stephen, although
they saw such things with their bodily
eyes, it was shewed but in miracle and
in certifying of thing that was ghostly.
For wit they right well that Saint
Martin's mantle came never on Christ's
own body substantially, for no need
that He had thereto to keep Him from
cold : but by miracle and in likeness
for all us that be able to be saved,
that be oned to the body of Christ
ghostly. And whoso clotheth a poor
man and doth any other good deed

257 17

258 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

for God's love bodily or ghostly to any
that hath need, sure be they they do
it unto Christ ghostly : and they shall
be rewarded as substantially there-
fore as they had done it to Christ's
own body. Thus saith Himself in the
gospel. And yet thought He it not
enough, but if He affirmed it after by
miracle ; and for this cause He shewed
Him unto Saint Martin by revelation.
All the revelations that ever saw any
man here in bodily likeness in this life,
they have ghostly bemeanings. And
I trow that if they unto whom they
were shewed had been so ghostly, or
could have conceived their bemeanings
ghostly, that then they had never been
shewed bodily. And therefore let us
pick off the rough bark, and feed us
off the sweet kernel.

But how ? Not as these heretics do,
the which be well likened to madmen
having this custom, that ever when
they have drunken of a fair cup, cast
it to the wall and break it. Thus
should not we do if we will well do.

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 259

For we should not so feed us of the
fruit, that we should despise the tree ;
nor so drink, that we should break
the cup when we have drunken. The
tree and the cup I call this visible
miracle, and all seemly bodily obser-
vances, that is according and not
letting the work of the spirit. The
fruit and the drink I call the ghostly
bemeaning of these visible miracles,
and of these seemly bodily obser-
vances : as is lifting up of our eyes and
our hands unto heaven. If they be
done by stirring of the spirit, then
be they well done ; and else be they
hypocrisy, and then be they false. If
they be true and contain in them
ghostly fruit, why should they then be
despised ? For men will kiss the cup,
for wine is therein.

And what thereof, though our Lord
when He ascended to heaven bodily
took His way upwards into the clouds,
seen of His mother and His disciples
with their bodily eyes ? Should we
therefore in our ghostly work ever stare

26o CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

upwards with our bodily eyes, to look
after Him if we may see Him sit bodily
in heaven, or else stand, as Saint
Stephen did ? Nay, surely He shewed
Him not unto Saint Stephen bodily in
heaven, because that He would give
us ensample that we should in our
ghostly work look bodily up into
heaven if we might see Him as Saint
Stephen did, either standing, or sitting,
or else lying. For howso His body is
in heaven — standing, sitting, or lying
— wots no man. And it needeth not
more to be witted, but that His body
is oned with the soul, without depart-
ing. The body and the soul, the which
is the manhood, is oned with the
Godhead without departing also. Of
His sitting, His standing. His lying,
needeth it not to wit ; but that He is
there as Him list, and hath Him in
body as most seemly is unto Him for
to be. For if He shew Him lying,
or standing, or sitting, by revelation
bodily to any creature in this life, it is
done for some ghostly bemeaning : and

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 261

not for no manner of bodily bearing that
He hath in heaven. See by ensample.
By standing is understood a readiness
of helping. And therefore it is said
commonly of one friend to another,
when he is in bodily battle : '' Bear thee
well, fellow, and fight fast, and give not
up the battle over lightly ; for I shall
stand by thee." He meaneth not only
bodily standing ; for peradventure this
battle is on horse and not on foot, and
peradventure it is in going and not
standing. But he meaneth when he
saith that he shall stand by him, that
he shall be ready to help him. For this
reason it was that our Lord shewed
Him bodily in heaven to Saint Stephen,
when he was in his martyrdom : and
not to give us ensample to look up to
heaven. As He had said thus to Saint
Stephen in person of all those that
suffer persecution for His love : '* Lo,
Stephen ! as verily as I open this bodily
firmament, the which is called heaven,
and let thee see My bodily standing,
trust fast that as verily stand I beside

262 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

thee ghostly by the might of My God-
head. And I am ready to help thee, and
therefore stand thou stiffly in the faith
and suffer boldly the fell buffets of
those hard stones : for I shall crown
thee in bliss for thy meed, and not
only thee, but all those that suffer
persecution for Me on any manner."
And thus mayest thou see that these
bodily shewings were done by ghostly
bemeanings.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

NINE AND FIFTIETH

CHAPTER

That a man shall not take ensample at
the bodily ascension of Christ, for to
strain his imagination upwards bodily
in the time of prayer: and that time,
place, and body, these three should be
forgotten in all ghostly working,

AND if thou say aught touching the
ascension of our Lord, for that was
done bodily, and for a bodily bemean-
ing as well as for a ghostly, for both
He ascended very God and very man :
to this will I answer thee, that He
had been dead, and was clad with
undeadliness, and so shall we be at
the Day of Doom. And then we shall
be made so subtle in body and in soul
together, that we shall be then as
swiftly where us list bodily as we be

263

264 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

now in our thought ghostly ; whether
it be up or down, on one side or on
other, behind or before, all I hope
shall then be alike good, as clerks
say. But now thou mayest not come
to heaven bodily, but ghostly. And
yet it shall be so ghostly, that it shall
not be on bodily manner ; neither up-
wards nor downwards, nor on one
side nor on other, behind nor before.

And wit well that all those that
set them to be ghostly workers, and
specially in the work of this book,
that although they read '* lift up " or
*' go in," although all that the work
of this book be called a stirring,
nevertheless yet them behoveth to
have a full busy beholding, that this
stirring stretch neither up bodily, nor
in bodily, nor yet that it be any such
stirring as is from one place to an-
other. And although that it be some-
time called a rest, nevertheless yet
they shall not think that it is any
such rest as is any abiding in a place
without removing therefrom. For the

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 265

perfection of this work is so pure
and so ghostly in itself, that an it
be well and truly conceived, it shall
be seen far removed from any stirring
and from any place.

And it should by some reason rather
be called a sudden changing, than
any stirring of place. For time, place,
and body : these three should be for-
gotten in all ghostly working. And
therefore be wary in this work, that
thou take none ensample at the bodily
ascension of Christ for to strain thine
imagination in the time of thy prayer
bodily upwards, as thou wouldest climb
above the moon. For it should on
nowise be so, ghostly. But if thou
shouldest ascend into heaven bodily,
as Christ did, then thou mightest take
ensample at it : but that may none do
but God, as Himself witnesseth, say-
ing : '* There is no man that may
ascend unto heaven but only He that
descended from heaven, and became
man for the love of man." And if it
were possible, as it on nowise may

266 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

be, yet it should be for abundance of
ghostly working only by the might
of the spirit, full far from any bodily
stressing or straining of our imagina-
tion bodily, either up, or in, on one
side, or on other. And therefore let
be such falsehood : it should not
be so.

I

HERE BEGINNETH THE
SIXTIETH CHAPTER

That the high and the next way to heaven
is run by desires, and not by paces of
feet.

BUT now peradventure thou sayest,
that how should it then be ? For thee
thinkest that thou hast very evidence
that heaven is upwards ; for Christ
ascended the air bodily upwards, and
sent the Holy Ghost as He promised
coming from above bodily, seen of all
His disciples ; and this is our belief.
And therefore thee thinkest since thou
hast thus very evidence, why shalt
thou not direct thy mind upward
bodily in the time of thy prayer ?

And to this will I answer thee so
feebly as I can, and say : since it so
was, that Christ should ascend bodily

367

268 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

and thereafter send the Holy Ghost
bodily, then it was more seemly that
it was upwards and from above than
either downwards and from beneath,
behind, or before, on one side or on
other. But else than for this seemli-
ness, Him needed never the more to
have went upwards than downwards ;
I mean for nearness of the way. For
heaven ghostly is as nigh down as up,
and up as down : behind as before,
before as behind, on one side as other.
Insomuch, that whoso had a true
desire for to be at heaven, then that
same time he were in heaven ghostly.
For the high and the next way thither
is run by desires, and not by paces
of feet. And therefore saith Saint
Paul of himself and many other thus ;
although our bodies be presently here
in earth, nevertheless yet our living is
in heaven. He meant their love and
their desire, the which is ghostly their
life. And surely as verily is a soul
there where it loveth, as in the body
that liveth by it and to the which

I

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 269

it giveth life. And therefore if we
will go to heaven ghostly, it needeth
not to strain our spirit neither up
nor down, nor on one side nor on
other.

HERE BEGINNETH THE ONE
AND SIXTIETH CHAPTER

That all bodily thing is subject unto
ghostly thing, and is ruled thereafter by
the course of nature and not contrariwise.

NEVERTHELESS it is needful to
lift up our eyes and our hands bodily,
as it were unto yon bodily heaven, in
the which the elements be fastened.
I mean if we be stirred of the work
of our spirit, and else not. For all
bodily thing is subject unto ghostly
thing, and is ruled thereafter, and not
contrariwise.

Ensample hereof may be seen by the
ascension of our Lord : for when the
time appointed was come, that Him
liked to wend to His Father bodily in
His manhood, the which was never nor
never may be absent in His Godhead,
then mightily by the virtue of the

270

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 271

Spirit God, the manhood with the body
followed in onehead of person. The
visibility of this was most seemly, and
most according, to be upward.

This same subjection of the body
to the spirit may be in manner verily
conceived in the proof of this ghostly
work of this book, by them that work
therein. For what time that a soul
disposeth him effectually to this work,
then as fast suddenly, unwitting him-
self that worketh, the body that per-
adventure before ere he began was
somewhat bent downwards, on one
side or on other for ease of the flesh,
by virtue of the spirit shall set it up-
right : following in manner and in like-
ness bodily the work of the spirit that
is made ghostly. And thus it is most
seemly to be.

And for this seemliness it is, that a
man — the which is the seemliest crea-
ture in body that ever God made — is
not made crooked to the earthwards,
as be all other beasts, but upright
to heavenwards. For why ? That it

272 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

should figure in likeness bodily the
work of the soul ghostly ; the which
falleth to be upright ghostly, and not
crooked ghostly. Take heed that I
say upright ghostly, and not bodily.
For how should a soul, the which in
his nature hath no manner thing of
bodilyness, be strained upright bodily ?
Nay, it may not be.

And therefore be wary that thou
conceive not bodily that which is meant
ghostly, although it be spoken in bodily
words, as be these, up or down, in or
out, behind or before, on one side or on
other. For although that a thing be
never so ghostly in itself, nevertheless
yet if it shall be spoken of, since it so is
that speech is a bodily work wrought
with the tongue, the which is an instru-
ment of the body, it behoveth always
be spoken in bodily words. But what
thereof ? Shall it therefore be taken
and conceived bodily ? Nay, but
ghostly, as it be meant.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

TWO AND SIXTIETH

CHAPTER

How a man may ivit when his ghostly
work is beneath him or without him,
and when it is euen with him or within
him, and when it is above him and
under his God.

AND for this, that thou shalt be able
better to wit how they shall be con-
ceived ghostly, these words that be
spoken bodily, therefore I think to
declare to thee the ghostly bemeaning
of some words that fall to ghostly
working. So that thou mayest wit
clearly without error when thy ghostly
work is beneath thee and without
thee, and when it is within thee and
even with thee, and when it is above
thee and under thy God.

All manner of bodily thing is without
thy soul and beneath it in nature,

273 18

I

274 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

yea ! the sun and the moon and all
the stars, although they be above thy
body, nevertheless yet they be beneath
thy soul.

All angels and all souls, although
they be confirmed and adorned with
grace and with virtues, for the which
they be above thee in cleanness, never-
theless, yet they be but even with thee
in nature.

Within in thyself in nature be the
powers of thy soul : the which be these
three principal, Memory, Reason, and
Will ; and secondary, Imagination and
Sensuality.

Above thyself in nature is no manner
of thing but only God.

Evermore where thou findest written
thyself in ghostliness, then it is under-
stood thy soul, and not thy body. And
then all after that thing is on the which
the powers of thy soul work, thereafter
shall the worthiness and the condi-
tion of thy work be deemed ; whether
it be beneath thee, within thee, or
above thee.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

THREE AND SIXTIETH

CHAPTER

Of the powers of a soul in general, and
how Memory In special Is a principal
power, comprehending In It all the other
powers and all those things In the which
they work.

MEMORY is such a power in itself,
that properly to speak and in manner,
it worketh not itself. But Reason and
Will, they be two working powers,
and so is Imagination and Sensuality
also. And all these four powers and
their works, Memory containeth and
comprehendeth in itself. And other-
wise it is not said that the Memory
worketh, unless such a comprehension
be a work.

And therefore it is that I call the
powers of a soul, some principal, and

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276 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

some secondary. Not because a soul
is divisible, for that may not be : but
because all those things in the which
they work be divisible, and some prin-
cipal, as be all ghostly things, and
some secondary, as be all bodily things.
The two principal working powers.
Reason and Will, work purely in them-
selves in all ghostly things, without
help of the other two secondary
powers. Imagination and Sensuality
work beastly in all bodily things,
whether they be present or absent,
in the body and with the bodily wits.
But by them, without help of Reason
and of Will, may a soul never come
to for to know the virtue and the
conditions of bodily creatures, nor
the cause of their beings and their
makings.

And for this cause is Reason and
Will called principal powers, for they
work in pure spirit without any man-
ner of bodilyness : and Imagination
and Sensuality secondary, for they
work in the body with bodily instru-

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 277

merits, the which be our five wits.
Memory is called a principal power,
for it containeth in it ghostly not only
all the other powers, but thereto all
those things in the which they work.
See by the proof.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FOUR AND SIXTIETH

CHAPTER

Of the other two principal powers. Reason
and Will ; and of the work of them before
sin and after.

REASON is a power through the
which we depart the evil from the
good, the evil from the worse, the
good from the better, the worse from
the worst, the better from the best.
Before ere man sinned, might Reason
have done all this by nature. But
now it is so blinded with the original
sin, that it may not con work this
work, unless it be illumined by grace.
And both the self Reason, and the thing
that it worketh in, be comprehended
and contained in the Memory.

Will is a power through the which
we choose good, after that it be de-

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CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 279

termined with Reason ; and through
the which we love good, we desire
good, and rest us with full liking and
consent endlessly in God. Before ere
man sinned, might not Will be de-
ceived in his choosing, in his loving,
nor in none of his works. For why,
it had then by nature to savour each
thing as it was ; but now it may not
do so, unless it be anointed with grace.
For ofttimes because of infection of
the original sin, it savoureth a thing
for good that is full evil, and that hath
but the likeness of good. And both
the Will and the thing that is willed,
the Memory containeth and compre-
hendeth in it.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FIVE AND SIXTIETH

CHAPTER

Of the first secondary power, Imagina-
tion by name ; and of the works and the
obedience of it unto Reason, before sin
and after.

IMAGINATION is a power through
the which we portray all images of
absent and present things, and both
it and the thing that it worketh in
be contained in the Memory. Before
ere man sinned, was Imagination so
obedient unto the Reason, to the
which it is as it were servant, that it
ministered never to it any unordained
image of any bodily creature, or any
fantasy of any ghostly creature : but
now it is not so. For unless it be
refrained by the light of grace in
the Reason, else it will never cease,
sleeping or waking, for to portray

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CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 281

diverse unordained images of bodily
creatures ; or else some fantasy, the
which is nought else but a bodily
conceit of a ghostly thing, or else a
ghostly conceit of a bodily thing. And
this is evermore feigned and false, and
next unto error.

This inobedience of the Imagination
may clearly be conceived in them that
be newlings turned from the world
unto devotion, in the time of their
prayer. For before the time be, that
the Imagination be in great part re-
frained by the light of. grace in the
Reason, as it is in continual medita-
tion of ghostly things — as be their own
wretchedness, the passion and the
kindness of our Lord God, with many
such other — they may in nowise put
away the wonderful and the diverse
thoughts, fantasies, and images, the
which be ministered and printed in
their mind by the light of the curiosity
of Imagination. And all this in-
obedience is the pain of the original
sin.

HERE BEGINNETH THE SIX
AND SIXTIETH CHAPTER

Of the other secondary power, Sensuality
by name: and of the works and of the
obedience of it unto Will, before sin am
after.

SENSUALITY is a power of our
soul, recking and reigning in the
bodily wits, through the which wcj
have bodily knowing and feeling of
all bodily creatures, whether they bej
pleasing or unpleasing. And it hath
two parts : one through the which it
beholdeth to the needfulness of our
body, another through the which
it serveth to the lusts of the bodily
wits. For this same power is it, that
grumbleth when the body lacketh
the needful things unto it, and that
in the taking of the need stirreth us
to take more than needeth in feeding

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CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 283

and furthering of our lusts : that
grumbleth in lacking of pleasing
creatures, and lustily is delighted in
their presence : that grumbleth in
presence of misliking creatures, and
is lustily pleased in their absence.
Both this power and the thing that
it worketh in be contained in the
Memory,

Before ere man sinned was the
Sensuality so obedient unto the Will,
unto the which it is as it were ser-
vant, that it ministered never unto
it any unordained liking or grumbling
in any bodily creature, or any ghostly
feigning of liking or misliking made
by any ghostly enemy in the bodily
wits. But now it is not so : for unless
it be ruled by grace in the Will, for to
suffer meekly and in measure the pain
of the original sin, the which it feeleth
in absence of needful comforts and in
presence of speedful discomforts, and
thereto also for to restrain it from lust
in presence of needful comforts, and
from lusty plesaunce in the absence

284 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

of speedful discomforts : else will it
wretchedly and wantonly welter, as a
swine in the mire, in the wealths of
this world and the foul flesh so much
that all our living shall be more
beastly and fleshly, than either manly
or ghostly.

HERE BEGINNETH THE
-SEVEN AND SIXTIETH
CHAPTER

That whoso knoweth not the powers of a
soul and the manner of her working, may
lightly be deceived in understanding of
ghostly words and of ghostly working;
and how a soul is made a God in grace.

LO, ghostly friend ! to such wretched-
ness as thou here mayest see be we
fallen for sin : and therefore what
wonder is it, though we be blindly and
lightly deceived in understanding of
ghostly words and of ghostly working,
and specially those the which know
not yet the powers of their souls and
the manners of their working ?

For ever when the Memory is occu-
pied with any bodily thing, be it taken
to never so good an end, yet thou art
beneath thyself in this working, and

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286 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

without any soul. And ever when thou
feelest thy Memory occupied with the
subtle conditions of the powers of thy
soul and their workings in ghostly
things, as be vices or virtues, of thyself,
or of any creature that is ghostly and
even with thee in nature, to that end
that thou mightest by this work learn
to know thyself in furthering of perfec-
tion : then thou art within thyself, and
even with thyself. But ever when
thou feelest thy Memory occupied with
no manner of thing that is bodily or
ghostly, but only with the self sub-
stance of God, as it is and may be, in
the proof of the work of this book :
then thou art above thyself and beneath
thy God.

Above thyself thou art : for why,
thou attainest to come thither by grace,
whither thou mayest not come by
nature. That is to say, to be oned to
God, in spirit, and in love, and in
accordance of will. Beneath thy God
thou art : for why, although it may be
said in manner, that in this time God

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 287

and thou be not two but one in spirit
— insomuch that thou or another, for
such onehead that feeleth the perfec-
tion of this work, may soothfastly by
witness of Scripture be called a God —
— nevertheless yet thou art beneath
Him. For why, He is God by nature
without beginning ; and thou, that
sometime wert nought in substance,
and thereto after when thou wert by
His might and His love made ought,
wilfully with sin madest thyself worse
than nought, only by His mercy with-
out thy desert are made a God in
grace, oned with Him in spirit without
departing, both here and in bliss of
heaven without any end. So that,
although thou be all one with Him in
grace, yet thou art full far beneath
Him in nature.

Lo, ghostly friend ! hereby may est
thou see somewhat in part, that whoso
knoweth not the powers of their own
soul, and the manner of their working,
may full lightly be deceived in under-
standing of words that be written to

288 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

ghostly intent. And therefore mayest
thou see somewhat the cause why
that I durst not plainly bid thee shew
thy desire unto God, but I bade thee
childishly do that in thee is to hide it
and cover it. And this I do for fear
lest thou shouldest conceive bodily that
that is meant ghostly.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

EIGHT AND SIXTIETH

CHAPTER

That nowhere bodily, is everywhere
ghostly ; and how our outer man calleth
the work of this book nought

AND on the same manner, where
another man would bid thee gather
thy powers and thy wits wholly with-
in thyself, and worship God there —
although he say full well and full
truly, yea ! and no man trulier, an he
be well conceived — yet for fear of
deceit and bodily conceiving of his
words, me list not bid thee do so. But
thus will I bid thee. Look on nowise
that thou be within thyself. And
shortly, without thyself will I not that
thou be, nor yet above, nor behind,
nor on one side, nor on other.

*' Where then," sayest thou, '* shall I
289 19

290 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

be? Nowhere, by thy tale!" Now truly
thou sayest well ; for there would I
have thee. For why, nowhere bodily,
is ever3rwhere ghostly. Look then
busily that thy ghostly work be no-
where bodily ; and then wheresoever
that that thing is, on the which thou
wilfully workest in thy mind in sub-
stance, surely there art thou in spirit,
as verily as thy body is in that place
that thou art bodily. And although
thy bodily wits can find there nothing
to feed them on, for them think it
nought that thou dost, yea I do on
then this nought, arid do it for God's
love. And let not therefore, but travail
busily in that nought with a waking
desire to will to have God that no man
may know. For I tell thee truly, that
I had rather be so nowhere bodily,
wrestling with that blind nought, than
to be so great a lord that I might when
I would be everywhere bodily, merrily
playing with all this ought as a lord
with his own.

Let be this ever)rwhere and this

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 291

ought, in comparison of this nowhere
and this nought. Reck thee never if
thy wits cannot reason of this nought ;
for surely, I love it much the better.
It is so worthy a thing in itself, that
they cannot reason thereupon. This
nought may better be felt than seen :
for it is full blind and full dark to them
that have but little while looked there-
upon. Nevertheless, if I shall sooth-
lier say, a soul is more blinded in
feeling of it for abundance of ghostly
light, than for any darkness or want-
ing of bodily light. What is he that
calleth it nought ? Surely it is our
outer man, and not our inner. Our
inner man calleth it All ; for of it he is
well learned to know the reason of all
things bodily or ghostly, without any
special beholding to any one thing by
itself.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

NINE AND SIXTIETH

CHAPTER

How that a man's affection is maruel/ously
changed in ghostly feeling of this nought,
when it is nowhere wrought.

WONDERFULLY is a man's affec-
tion varied in ghostly feeling of this
nought when it is nowhere wrought.
For at the first time that a soul
looketh thereupon, it shall find all the
special deeds of sin that ever he did
since he was born, bodily or ghostly,
privily or darkly painted thereupon.
And howsoever that he turneth it
about, evermore they will appear before
his eyes ; until the time be, that with
much hard travail, many sore sighings,
and many bitter weepings, he have in
great part washed them away. Some-
time in this travail him think that it

292

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 293

is to look thereupon as on hell ; for
him think that he despaireth to win to
perfection of ghostly rest out of that
pain. Thus far inwards come many,
but for greatness of pain that they feel
and for lacking of comfort, they go
back in beholding of bodily things :
seeking fleshly comforts without, for
lacking of ghostly they have not yet
deserved, as they should if they had
abided.

For he that abideth feeleth some-
time some comfort, and hath some
hope of perfection ; for he feeleth
and seeth that many of his fordone
special sins be in great part by help
of grace rubbed away. Nevertheless
yet ever among he feeleth pain, but he
thinketh that it shall have an end, for
it waxeth ever less and less. And
therefore he calleth it nought else but
purgatory. Sometime he can find no
special sin written thereupon, but yet
him think that sin is a lump, he wot
never what, none other thing than
himself ; and then it may be called the

294 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

base and the pain of the original sin.
Sometime him think that it is paradise
or heaven, for diverse wonderful sweet-
ness and comforts, joys and blessed
virtues that he findeth therein. Some-
time him think it God, for peace and
rest that he findeth therein.

Yea ! think what he think will ; for
evermore he shall find it a cloud of un-
knowing, that is betwixt him and his
God.

?4

HERE BEGINNETH THE
SEVENTIETH CHAPTER

That right as by the def ailing of our
bodily wits we begin more readily to
come to knowing of ghostly things, so
by the defailing of our ghostly wits we
begin most readily to come to the know-
ledge of God, such as is possible by grace
to be had here.

AND therefore travail fast in this
nought, and this nowhere, and leave
thine outward bodily wits and all that
they work in : for I tell thee truly,
that this work may not be conceived
by them.

For by thine eyes thou mayest not
conceive of anything, unless it be by
the length and the breadth, the small-
ness and the greatness, the roundness
and the squareness, the farness and
the nearness, and the colour of it.

295

296 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

And by thine ears, nought but noise
or some manner of sound. By thine
nose, nought but either stench or
savour. And by thy taste, nought
but either sour or sweet, salt or fresh,
bitter or liking. And by thy feeling,
nought but either hot or cold, hard
or tender, soft or sharp. And truly,
neither hath God nor ghostly things
none of these qualities nor quantities.
And therefore leave thine outward
wits, and work not with them, neither
within nor without : for all those that
set them to be ghostly workers within,
and ween that they should either hear,
smell, or see, taste or feel, ghostly
things, either within them or without,
surely they be deceived, and work
wrong against the course of nature.

For by nature they be ordained,
that with them men should have
knowing of all outward bodily things,
and on nowise by them come to the
knowing of ghostly things. I mean
by their works. By their failings we
may, as thus : when we read or hear

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 297

speak of some certain things, and
thereto conceive that our outward
wits cannot tell us by no quality
what those things be, then we may
be verily certified that those things
be ghostly things, and not bodily
things.

On this same manner ghostly it
fareth within our ghostly wits, when
we travail about the knowing of God
Himself. For have a man never so
much ghostly understanding in know-
ing of all made ghostly things, yet
may he never by the work of his
understanding come to the knowing
of an unmade ghostly thing : the
which is nought but God. But by
the failing it may : for why, that thing
that it faileth in is nothing else but
only God. And therefore it was that
Saint Denis said, the most goodly
knowing of God is that, the which is
known by unknowing. And truly, who-
so will look in Denis' books, he shall
find that his words will clearly affirm
all that I have said or shall say, from

298 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

the beginning of this treatise to the
end. On otherwise than thus, list
me not cite him, nor none other
doctor, for me at this time. For some-
time, men thought it meekness to say
nought of their own heads, unless
they affirmed it by Scripture and
doctors' words : and now it is turned
into curiosity, and shewing of cunning.
To thee it needeth not, and therefore
I do it not. For whoso hath ears,
let him hear, and whoso is stirred
for to trow, let him trow : for else,
shall they not.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

ONE AND SEVENTIETH

CHAPTER

That some may not come to feel the
perfect/on of this work but in time of
ravishing, and some may have it when
they will, in the common state of man's
soul.

SOME think this matter so hard and
so fearful, that they say it may not
be come to without much strong
travail coming before, nor conceived
but seldom, and that but in the time
of ravishing. And to these men will
I answer as feebly as I can, and say,
that it is all at the ordinance and the
disposition of God, after their ableness
in soul that this grace of contemplation
and of ghostly working is given to.

For some there be that without
much and long ghostly exercise may

299

298 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

the beginning of this treatise to the
end. On otherwise than thus, list
me not cite him, nor none other
doctor, for me at this time. For some-
time, men thought it meekness to say
nought of their own heads, unless
they affirmed it by Scripture and
doctors' words : and now it is turned
into curiosity, and shewing of cunning.
To thee it needeth not, and therefore
I do it not. For whoso hath ears,
let him hear, and whoso is stirred
for to trow, let him trow : for else,
shall they not.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

ONE AND SEVENTIETH

CHAPTER

That some may not come to feel the
perfection of this work but in time of
ravishing, and some may have it when
they will, in the common state of man's
soul.

SOME think this matter so hard and
so fearful, that they say it may not
be come to without much strong
travail coming before, nor conceived
but seldom, and that but in the time
of ravishing. And to these men will
I answer as feebly as I can, and say,
that it is all at the ordinance and the
disposition of God, after their ableness
in soul that this grace of contemplation
and of ghostly working is given to.

For some there be that without
much and long ghostly exercise may

299

300 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

not come thereto, and yet it shall be
but full seldom, and in special calling
of our Lord that they shall feel the
perfection of this work : the which
calling is called ravishing. And some
there be that be so subtle in grace and
in spirit, and so homely with God in
this grace of contemplation, that they
may have it when they will in the
common state of man's soul : as it is
in sitting, going, standing, or kneeling.
And yet in this time they have full
deliberation of all their wits bodily or
ghostly, and may use them if they
desire : not without some letting (but
without great letting). Ensample of
the first we have by Moses, and of
this other by Aaron the priest of the
Temple : for why, this grace of con-
templation is figured by the Ark of
the Testament in the old law, and the
workers in this grace be figured by
them that most meddled them about
this Ark, as the story will witness.
And well is this grace and this work
likened unto that Ark. For right as

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 301

in that Ark were contained all the
jewels and the relics of the Temple,
right so in this little love put upon
this cloud be contained all the virtues
of man's soul, the which is the ghostly
Temple of God.

Moses ere he might come to see this
Ark and for to wit how it should be
made, with great long travail he clomb
up to the top of the mountain, and
dwelled there, and wrought in a cloud
six days : abiding unto the seventh
day that our Lord would vouchsafe for
to shew unto him the. manner of this
Ark-making. By Moses's long travail
and his late shewing, be understood
those that may not come to the perfec-
tion of this ghostly work without long
travail coming before : and yet but
full seldom, and when God will vouch-
safe to shew it.

But that that Moses might not come
to see but seldom, and that not without
great long travail, Aaron had in his
power because of his office, for to see
it in the Temple within the Veil as

304 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

those that may not at the first time
have it but seldom, and that not with-
out great travail, sithen after they
shall have it when they will, as oft
as them liketh. Ensample of this we
have of Moses, that first but seldom,
and not without great travail, in the
mount might not see the manner of
the Ark : and sithen after, as oft as
by him liked, saw it in the Veil.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

THREE AND SEVENTIETH

CHAPTER

How that after the likeness of Moses, of
Bezaleel, and of Aaron meddling them
about the Ark of the Testament, we profit
on three manners in this grace of contem-
plation, for this grace is figured in that
Ark.

THREE men there were that most
principally meddled them with this
Ark of the Old Testament : Moses,
Bezaleel, Aaron. Moses learned in the
mount of our Lord how it should be
made. Bezaleel wrought it and made
it in the Veil after the ensample that
was shewed in the mountain. And
Aaron had it in keeping in the Temple,
to feel it and see it as oft as him liked.
At the likeness of these three, we
profit on three manners in this grace

305 20

3o6 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

of contemplation. Sometime we profit
only by grace, and then we be likened
unto Moses, that for all the climbing
and the travail that he had into the
mount might not come to see it but
seldom : and yet was that sight only
by the shewing of our Lord when Him
liked to shew it, and not for any desert
of his travail. Sometime we profit in
this grace by our own ghostly cunning,
helped with grace, and then be we
likened to Bezaleel, the which might
not see the Ark ere the time that he
had made it by his own travail, helped
with the ensample that was shewed
unto Moses in the mount. And some-
time we profit in this grace by other
men's teaching, and then be we likened
to Aaron, the which had it in keeping
and in custom to see and feel the Ark
when him pleased, that Bezaleel had
wrought and made ready before to his
hands.

Lo ! ghostly friend, in this work,
though it be childishly and lewdly
spoken, I bear, though I be a wretch

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 307

unworthy to teach any creature, the
office of Bezaleel : making and declar-
ing in manner to thine hands the
manner of this ghostly Ark. But far
better and more worthily than I do,
thou mayest work if thou wilt be
Aaron : that is to say, continually
working therein for thee and for me.
Do then so I pray thee, for the love of
God Almighty. And since we be both
called of God to work in this work, I
beseech thee for God's love fulfil in
thy part what lacketh of mine.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FOUR AND SEVENTIETH

CHAPTER

How that the matter of this booh is never
more read or spoken, nor heard read or
spoken, of a soul disposed thereto without
feeling of a very accordance to the effect
of the same work: and of rehearsing of
the same charge that is written in the
prologue.

AND if thee think that this manner
of working be not according to thy
disposition in body and in soul, thou
mayest leave it and take another,
safely with good ghostly counsel with-
out blame. And then I beseech thee
that thou wilt have me excused, for
truly I would have profited unto thee
in this writing at my simple cunning ;
and that was mine intent. And there-
fore read over twice or thrice ; and
ever the ofter the better, and the

308

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 309

more thou shalt conceive thereof.
Insomuch, peradventure, that some
sentence that was full hard to thee at
the first or the second reading, soon
after thou shalt think it easy.

Yea ! and it seemeth impossible to
mine understanding, that any soul
that is disposed to this work should
read it or speak it, or else hear it read
or spoken, but if that same soul should
feel for that time a very accordance
to the effect of this work. And then if
thee think it doth thee good, thank
God heartily, and for God^s love pray
for me.

Do then so. And I pray thee for
God's love that thou let none see
this book, unless it be such one that
thee think is like to the book ; after
that thou findest written in the book
before, where it telleth what men and
when they should work in this work.
And if thou shalt let any such men
see it, then I pray thee that thou bid
them take them time to look it all
over. For peradventure there is some

310 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

matter therein in the beginning, or in
the midst, the which is hanging and
not fully declared there as it standeth.
But if it be not there, it is soon after,
or else in the end. And thus if a man
saw one part and not another, per-
adventure he should lightly be led
into error : and therefore I pray thee
to work as I say thee. And if thee
think that there be any matter therein
that thou wouldest have more opened
than it is, let me wit which it is, and
thy conceit thereupon ; and at my
simple cunning it shall be amended
if I can.

Fleshly j anglers, flatterers and
blamers, ronkers and ronners, and
all manner of pinchers, cared I never
that they saw this book : for mine
intent was never to write such thing
to them. And therefore I would not
that they heard it, neither they nor
none of these curious lettered nor un-
learned men : yea ! although they be
full good men in active living, for it
accordeth not to them.

HERE BEGINNETH THE

FIVE AND SEVENTIETH

CHAPTER

Of some certain tokens by the whioh a
man may prove whether he be called of
God to work in this work.

ALL those that read or hear the
matter of this book be read or spoken,
and in this reading. or hearing think
it a good and liking thing, be never
the rather called of God to work in
this work, only for this liking stirring
that they feel in the time of this read-
ing. For peradventure this stirring
Cometh more of a natural curiosity of
wit, than of any calling of grace.

But if they will prove whence this
stirring cometh, they may prove thus,
if them liketh. First let them look
if they have done that in them is before,
abling them thereto in cleansing of

3"

312 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

their conscience at the doom of Holy
Church, their counsel according. If it
be thus, it is well inasmuch : but if
they will wit more near, . let them
look if it be evermore pressing in their
remembrance more customably than
is any other of ghostly exercise. And
if them think that there is no manner
of thing that they do, bodily or ghostly,
that is sufficiently done with witness
of their conscience, unless this privy
little love pressed be in manner ghostly
the chief of all their work : and if they
thus feel, then it is a token that they
be called of God to this work, and
surely else not.

I say not that it shall ever last and
dwell in all their minds continually,
that be called to work in this work.
Nay, so is it not. For from a young
ghostly prentice in this work, the
actual feeling thereof is ofttimes
withdrawn for divers reasons. Some-
time, for he shall not take over pre-
sumptuously thereupon, and ween that
it be in great part in his own power

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 313

to have it when him list, and as him
list. And such a weening were pride.
And evermore when the feeling of
grace is withdrawn, pride is the cause :
not ever pride that is, but pride that
should be, were it not that this feel-
ing of grace were withdrawn. And
thus ween ofttimes some young fools,
that God is their enemy ; when He is
their full friend.

Sometimes it is withdrawn for their
carelessness ; and when it is thus,
they feel soon after a full bitter pain
that beateth them full sore. Some-
times our Lord will delay it by an art-
ful device, for He will by such a delay-
ing make it grow, and be had more
in dainty when it is new found and
felt again that long had been lost.
And this is one of the readiest and
sovereignest tokens that a soul may
have to wit by, whether he be called
or not to work in this work, if he feel
after such a delaying and a long lack-
ing of this work, that when it cometh
suddenly as it doth, unpurchased with

314 CLOUD OF UNKNOWING

any means, that he hath then a
greater fervour of desire and greater
love longing to work in this work,
than ever he had any before. Inso-
much, that ofttimes I trow, he hath
more joy of the finding thereof than
ever he had sorrow of the losing.

And if it be thus, surely it is a very
token without error, that he is called
of God to work in this work, whatso-
ever that he be or hath been.

For not what thou art, nor what
thou hast been, beholdeth God with
His merciful eyes ; but that thou
wouldest be. And Saint Gregory to
witness, that all holy desires grow
by delays : and if they wane by delays,
then were they never holy desires.
For he that feeleth ever less joy and
less, in new findings and sudden
presentations of his old purposed
desires, although they may be called
natural desires to the good, neverthe-
less holy desires were they never. Of
this holy desire speaketh Saint Austin
and saith, that all the life of a good

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING 315

Christian man is nought else but holy
desire.

Farewell, ghostly friend, in God's
blessing and mine ! And I beseech
Almighty God, that true peace, holy
counsel, and ghostly comfort in God
with abundance of grace, evermore be
with thee and all God's lovers in earth.
Amen.

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