Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2007 with funding from
Microsoft Corporation
- i
*
.
jj
:
ey
er x
pale ee
pr:
hate ph
7
oF,
Py |
= q
Vy
WH “yy
\\\\
\
a FE,
LONDON
PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODK AND CO-
NEW-STRERT SQUARE
a
or
: OF
- SAINT JOHN OF THE ye: 7
= OF THE 4
4 “y
ORDER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL. _
a TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL SPANISH :
= DAVID LEWIS, Eso. M.A. 7
| EDITED BY THE OBLATE FATHERS OF SAINT CHARLES.
WITH A PREFACE
BY
x ° al HIS EMINENCE CARDINAL WISEMAN.
VOL. I.
4 _ LONDON:
aa LONGMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN, ROBERTS, & GREEN.
Pot 1864.
NOTE BY THE TRANSLATOR.
This Translation was made for the late Father Farr, Provost
of the London Oratory.
_ He intended to publish it himself, but, hindered by many
cares, and finally by failing health, he presented it to the Oblate
Fathers of S, Charles, to whose laborious care this Impression is
due.
The Fathers have further enriched it with marginal notes and
a double index.
JHE INSTITUTE OF MEDIAEVAL STUDIES
10 ELMSLEY PLACE
TORONTO 6, CANADA,
OCT 3 11931
is A be
PREFACE.
ev
T is now many years ago, long before the episcopal
burthen pressed upon his shoulders, that the author
enjoyed the pleasure of knowing, and frequently con-
versing with, the estimable Gorres, at Munich. One
day, the conversation turned on a remark in that deep
writer’s ‘ Philosophy of Mysticism,’ to the effect, that
saints most remarkable for their mystical learning and
piety were far from exhibiting, in their features and
expression, the characteristics usually attributed to
them. ‘They are popularly considered, and by artists
represented, as soft, fainting, and perhaps hysterical
persons; whereas their portraits present to us counte-
nances of men, or women, Of a practical, business-like,
working character.
The author asked Gorres if hé had ever seen an
original likeness of 8. Teresa, in whom he thought
these remarks were particularly exemplified. He
replied that he never had; and the writer, on re-
turning to Rome, fulfilled the promise which he had
made the philosopher, by procuring a sketch of an
authentic portrait of that saint, preserved with great
care in the Monastery of 8. Sylvester, near Tusculum.
vi PREFACE.
It was painted for Philip II. by a concealed artist,
while he was conversing with her.
This portrait confirms most strongly the theory of
Gérres, as the author wrote to him with the drawing ;
for while no mystical saint has ever been more idealised
by artists, or represented as living in a continual swoon,
than 8. Teresa, her true portraits all represent her
with strong, firmly set, and almost masculine features,
with forms and lines that denoted vigour, resolution,
and strong sense. Her handwriting perfectly suggests
the same conclusion.
Still more does the successful activity of her life,
in her many painful struggles, under every possible
disadvantage, and her final and complete triumph,
strengthen this idea of her. And then, her almost
superhuman prudence, by which she guided so many
minds, and prosperously conducted so many compli-
cated interests and affairs, and her wonderful influence
over men of high education and position, and of great
powers, are further evidences of her strong, command-
ing nature; such as, in the world, might have claimed
an almost unexampled preeminence.
It is not improbable that some who take up these
volumes, or dip into them here and there, may conceive
that they were written by a dreamy ascetic, who passed
his life in hazy contemplation of things unreal and un-
practical. Yet it was quite the contrary. Twin-saint,
it may be said, to 8. Teresa—sharer in her labours
and in her sufferings, 8. John of the Cross, actively
and unflinchingly pursued their joint object, that of
= = PREFACE. vii
» At
eee ae,
reforming and restoring to its primitive purity and
observance the religious Order of Carmelites, and
founding, throughout Spain, a severer branch, known
as discalced, or barefooted Carmelites, or more briefly
as Teresians. .
We do not possess any autobiography of 8. John,
as we do of 8. Teresa, or the more active portion and
character of his life would be at once apparent. More-
over, only very few of his letters have been’ preserved ;
not twenty, in fact, or we should undoubtedly have
had sufficient evidence of his busy and active life. But,
even as it is, proofs glance out from his epistles of this
important element in his composition.
In his second letter (vol. i. p. 318), he thus writes
to the religious of Veas, a highly favoured foundation :
‘What is wanting in you, if, indeed, anything be
wanting, is . . . silence, and work. For, whereas
speaking distracts, silence and action collect the
thoughts, and strengthen the spirit.’ And again, ‘To
arrest this evil, and to preserve our spirit, as I have
said, there is no surer remedy than to suffer, to work,
to be silent.’
It was not, therefore, a life of visionary or speculative
meditation that 8. John taught even the nuns to
pursue, but one of activity and operative occupation.
But we may judge of his own practice by a passage in
another of his letters. Thus he writes:
‘I have been waiting to finish these visitations and
foundations, which our Lord has hastened forward in
such wise that there has been no time to spare. The
vill PREFACE.
Friars have been received at Cordova with the greatest
joy and solemnity on the part of the whole city .
I am now busied at Seville with the removal of the
nuns, who have bought one of the principal houses at
a cost of about 14,000 ducats, being worth more than
20,000. They are now established there. Before my
departure, I intend to establish another house of Friars
here, so that there will be two of our Order in Seville.
Before the Feast of §. John, I shall set forth to Ecija,
where, with the Divine blessing, we shall found another ;
thence to Malaga . . . . I wish I had authority to
make this foundation, as I had for the other. I do not
expect much difficulty’ * (p. 322).
This is only a few months’ work, or rather some
weeks’; for the interval described in the letter is from
the Ascension to the 24th of June. We must allow
some portion of this time for the slow travelling of
those days and those regions, over sierras, on mule-
back. And then 8. John’s travels were not triumphal
progresses, but often were painful pilgrimages, crossed
by arrests, and even long imprisonments, embittered
by personal unkindness.
Yet, with calm firmness he persevered and travelled
and worked at the establishment of his new houses in
many parts of Spain, till the Order was fully and per-
manently planted. In fact, if we looked only at his
life, we should naturally conclude that he was a man
* The writer has had the pleasure of visiting these early foundations
at Seville, Ecija, Malaga, and Granada. The first fervour of the Order
yet remains in them.
tw
ne es
PREFACE. Ix
of an operative mind, always at work, ever in move-
ment, who could not afford much time for inward
concentration on abstract subjects.
But when we read his writings, another high quality,
for which we are not prepared, must strike us forcibly
as entering into the composition of his character. He
must have given much time to reading and study. He
is learned in all those pursuits which we desire and
expect to find in an ecclesiastical scholar of his age.
Every page in his book gives proof of thorough acquain-
tance with that mental discipline which trained and
formed the mind in the schools, and gave a mould
into which thought ran and settled itself in fixed prin-
ciples; or, where this possessed extraordinary power,
opened a channel through which it passed to further
spheres of activity. Even the mind of a Bacon was
conducted through the dialectics of those schools, to all
the developments of his intellectual vigour.
In 8. John we discover, at every turn, a mind so
educated by reading and by study. His writings are
far from being a string of loose disjointed thoughts,
scattered apophthegms, or aimless rhapsodies. Quite
on the contrary, there is ever a sequence and strict
logical continuity in every division of his discourse, and
all the several parts are coherent and consistent. How-
ever detailed his treatment of his subject, he never
becomes entangled or confused ; he never drops a thread
of what may appear a fine-spun web of expansion in a
difficult topic, and loses it; but he returns to what he
has interrupted or intercalated with undisturbed fidelity,
x PREFACE.
and repursues his reasoning with a distinctness and
discrimination which shows that in truth there had
been no interruption, but that unity of thought had
pervaded all the design, and nothing had been left to
chance or the idea of the moment. |
Indeed, one feels in reading him that he has to deal
with the master of a science. There is no wandering
from the first purpose, no straying aside from the
predetermined road, after even flowers that grow on its
sides. Every division and subdivision of the way has
been charted from the beginning by one who saw it all
before him. And the secret lies in this, and nothing
more: 8. John invents nothing, borrows nothing from
others, but gives us clearly the results of his own
experience in himself and in others. He presents you
with a portrait, not with a fancy picture. He represents
the ideal of one who has passed, as he had done,
through the career of the spiritual life, through its
struggles and its victories.
Not only does he at all times exhibit proof of his
mental cultivation by those processes which formed
every great mind in those days, and the gradual
decline of which, in later times, has led proportionably
to looseness of reasoning and diminution of thinking
power, but 8. John throughout exhibits tokens of a
personal culture of his own mental powers and many
graceful gifts.
His mind is eminently poetical, imaginative, tender,
and gentle. Whatever mystical theology may appear
to the mind of the uninitiated, to 8. John it was clearly
PREFACE. X1
a bright and well-loved pursuit; it was a work of the
heart more than of the head; its place was rather in
the affections than among the intellectual powers.
Hence, with every rigour of logical precision, and an
unbending exactness in his reasonings, there is blended
a buoyancy of feeling, a richness of varied illustration,
and often a sweet and elegant fancy playing with grave
subjects, so as to render them attractive, which show a
mind unfettered by mere formal methods, but easy in
its movements and free in its flights. Indeed, often
a point which is obscure and abstruse when barely
treated, receives, from a lively illustration, a clearness
and almost briliancy quite unexpected.
But the prominent learning of the saint and the
source of his most numerous and happiest elucidations,
are to be found in the inspired Word of God. That is
his treasure-house, that the inspirer of his wisdom, and
subject of his meditation. The sacred volume must
have been in his hands all day, and can hardly have
dropped out of them at night. Even by merely glancing
at the index of texts quoted by him, placed at the end
of the second volume, anyone may convince himself of
his rare familiarity with the inspired writings, and one
very different from what we may find among readers of
Scripture in our days.
For, first, it is an impartial familarity, not confined
to some favourite portions, as is often the case, where
the reader thinks he finds passages or subjects that
confirm his own views or encourage his tastes. But in
S. John we discover nothing of this sort. Of course,
xi ; PREFACE.
such a book as the Canticle, the special food of mystics,
is familiar to his pen as it was to the mouths of Jewish
maidens, made sweeter and sweeter by frequent reiter-
ations. But every other book is almost equally ready
to his hand, to prove more formally, occasionally illus-
trate, every one of his positions. For the first purpose
he must have deeply studied the sacred text; for the
second, its expressions must have been his very house-
hold words.
* Then, secondly, the beauty and elegance of his
applications prove not mere familiarity, but a refined
study, and a loving meditation on what he considers
most holy and divine. Some of his quotations are
richly set in his own graceful explanations and com-
mentaries; and, though the adaptations which he
makes may sometimes appear startling and original to
an ordinary peruser of Scripture, they seem so apt and
so profound in their spiritual wisdom that they often
win approbation and even admiration.
So far, it may appear that this Preface has dealt with
S. John of the Cross outside of the sphere in which the
volume to which it is prefixed represents him as moving.
Tt has not treated him as a mystical theologian. Why
is this? it may be justly. asked.
The answer must be honest and straightforward. It
is too common for overlooking or disguising, to pro-
nounce a contemplative life to be only a cloak for
idleness, a pretext for abandoning or neglecting the
active duties of domestic or social existence, and
shrinking from their responsibilities. Those who pro-
ase ea
PREFACE. Xi
fess to lead it are considered as the drones of the human
hive, who leave its work to others, and yet exact a
share of its sweets. And if, from time to time, one
emerges from the passive, or, as it is deemed, indolent,
condition of mere dreamers, and gives form and precision
to the rules and laws which guide them, he is probably
held merely to have more method and skill in his
disordered ideas, and to be only more pernicious than
his companions or followers. .
This prejudice, firmly rooted in many English minds,
it has been thought well to remove, as a preliminary to
presenting 8. John to his readers in his highest and
distinctive character. He has been shown to possess
other eminent qualities. He was a man of active life
and practical abilities, industrious, conversant with
business, where prudence, shrewdness, and calculation,
as well as boldness, were required. He was a man of
well-trained mind, cultivated by the exercise of intel-
lectual faculties, and matured by solid, especially re-
ligious knowledge.
He has now to come before us as a diver into the
very depths of thought, as a contemplative of the
highest order.
A man with such a character as we have claimed for
him cannot have dozed away his years of life in un-
practical dreams, or in crude specuiations. These
would be incompatible with the rest of his character.
His contemplativeness, and his mode of explaining it,
may be anticipated to be methodical and practical, and
at the same time feeling and attractive. And such
XIV PREFACE.
both are; his own practice, and his communication of
it to us.
But now, perhaps, many readers may ask for some
introductory information on the very nature of the
subjects treated in the volumes before him, and it can-
not be reasonably refused. This may be conveyed mi
various ways; perhaps the most simple and appreciable
will be found in an analogy, though imperfect, with
other spheres of thought.
It is well known that a mind naturally adapted to a
pursuit, and thus led ardently to follow it, after having
become thoroughly conversant and familiar with all its
resources, becomes almost, or altogether, independent
of its methods, and attais conclusions by compendious
processes, or by intuitive foresight, which require in
others long and often complicated deductions. Famuliar
illustrations may be found in our habitual speaking
without thinking of our grammar, which a foreigner
has constantly to do while learning our language ; or
the almost inexplicable accuracy of calculation in even
- children, gifted with the power of instantaneous arith-
metical solutions.
A mathematician acquires by study this faculty ; and
it is said that Laplace, in the decline of life, could not
any longer fill up the gaps in the processes by which,
at the age of greater mental vigour, he had reached,
without effort, the most wonderful yet accurate con-
clusions.
What is to be found in these abstruser pursuits,
exists no less in those of a lighter character. The
PREFACE. XV
literary mind, whether in thinking, writing, or speaking,
’ when well disposed by abilities, and well tutored by
application, takes in without effort the entire theme
presented to it, even with its parts and its details.
Sometimes it is like a landscape revealed, in a dark
night, by one flash of lightning; oftener it resembles
the calmer contemplation of it, in bright day, by an
artist’s eye, which is so filled with its various beauties,
that it enables him to transfer it, at home, to the
enduring canvas, on which many may enjoy it.
The historian may see, in one glance, the exact plan
of a work, with its specific aims and views ; its sources,
too, and its auxiliary elucidations. The finished orator,
no less, when suddenly called upon, will hold from end
to end the drift and purpose of his entire discourse,
and deliver, without effort, what to others appears an
elaborate composition. But, still more, the poet in-
dulges in noblest flights up to the regions of sublime,
or over the surface of beautiful, thoughts, while he
appears to be engaged in ordinary occupation, or
momentarily musing in vague abstraction.
Indeed, even where manual action is required to
give utterance to thought, the result is the same. The
consummate musician sits down to a complicated in-
strument, silent and dumb, till his fingers communicate
to it his improvised imaginings; bearing to its inner-
most organisation, by a sort of reflex action of the
nerves of sensation on those of motion, the ready and
inexhaustible workings of his brain, sweet melodies
and rich harmonies, with tangled knots and delicious
VOL. I. a
u nah ‘forties, as if he Saal Grama i"
¢ the mechanical action in the head. eo ae
In the few examples which are here given, eu
which might easily be multiplied, the point illustrated
is this; that where, with previous natural dispositions
and persevering cultivation, perfection in any intellec-
tual pursuit has been attained or approached, the
faculty exercised in it becomes, in a manner, passive,
dispenses with intermediate processes, and receives their
ultimate conclusions like impressions stamped upon it.
Labour almost ceases, and spontaneity of thought be-
_ comes its substitute.
Ca In this condition of mind, familiar to any one pos-
sessing genius in any form, perceptions, ideas, reason-
ings, imagery, have not to be sought; they either dart
at once complete into the thought, inborn, and perfect
to their very arms, as Pallas was symbolically fabled
to express this process; or they grow up, expanding
froma small seed to a noble plant, but as if by an
innate sap and vigour. There is a flow into the mind
of unsought images, or reflections, or truths; whence
they come, one hardly knows. They were not there
before; they have not been forged, or cast, or distilled
within.
And when this spontaneous productiveness has been
gained, the occupation of mind is not interrupted.
S. Thomas is said to have concluded an argument
against the Manichees gtene at the royal table; Bishop
Walmesley renounced his mathematical studies on
finding them painfully distract him at the altar.
e.
a
eee,
}
‘ Oa:
ae
hy
; et J i oe
ee a oer a
s
©
~
0
PREFACE. XVii
Neither recreation, nor serious employment, nor noise,
nor any condition of time or place, will suffice to dissi-
pate or even to disturb the continuous, unlaborious,
and unfatiguing absorption of thought in the mental
region which has become its natural dwelling.
Let us now ask, why may not a soul, that is the
‘mind accompanied by the best feelings, be placed in a
similar position with relation to the noblest and sub-
limest object which it can pursue—Gop? He and His
attributes present more perfect claims, motives, and
allurements, and more full gratification, repletion, and
reward to earnest and affectionate contemplation, than
any other object or subject. How much soever the
mathematician may strain his intellect in pursuit of the
true ; however the poet may luxuriate in the enjoyment
of the beautiful; to whatsoever extent the moralist may
delight in the apprehension of the good in its recondite
quintessence, none of these can reach, in his special
aim and longing, that elevation and consummation
which can be attained in those of all the three, by one
whose contemplation is directed to the Infinite in
Truth, in Beauty, and in Goodness.*
Why, then, should not this, so comprehensive and so
grand a source of every mental enjoyment, become a
supreme, all-exhausting, and sole object of contempla-
* It is recorded of the celebrated, though perhaps eccentric scholar,
Raymund Lully, that once he entered the school of Duns Scotus, to
whom he was unknown. The lecturer addressed to him the question,
Quotuplex pars scientie est Deus ?—‘ What part of knowledge includes
God?’ His reply overmastered the interrogator: Deus non est pars, qui
est Totum: ‘ God is in no part—He is the WHOLE.’
a 2
Xvill PREFACE.
tive fruition? Why should not some, or rather many,
minds be found which have selected this as their occu-
pation, their solace, their delight; and found it to be
what none other can of its nature be, inexhaustible ?
Everything else is measureable and fathomable ; this
alone unlimited.
Then, if there be no repugnance to such a choice
being made in the aim of contemplation, it is natural
for us to expect conditions and laws in its attainment
analogous to what we find where the mental powers
have selected for their exercise some inferior and more
restricted object. There will be the same gradual and
often slow course of assiduous training, the same diffi-
culty of fixing and concentrating the thoughts; till by
degrees forms and intermediate steps are dispensed
_ with ; when the mind becomes passive, and its trains of
thought seem spontaneous and in-coming, rather than
worked out by elaborating processes.
This state, when God is the sole occupier of though
represents the highest condition of contemplation,
the reaching of which Mystical Theology professes to
direct.
There are, however, two essential differences between
the‘natural and the spiritual exercises of the contem-
‘plative faculties. In treating of the first, a natural
aptitude was named throughout as a condition for
attaining that highest sphere of spontaneous suggestion
in the mind. In the second, this condition is not in-
cluded. Its place is taken by the supernatural power
of GRACE.
a
PREFACE. Xix
Every believer in Christianity acknowledges the
existence of an inward gift, which belongs of right
to all; though many may not choose to claim it. It
takes the place of mere natural advantages so com-
pletely, that its name has become a rooted word in our
language, even apart from religion. We say that a
man ‘ has had, or has not had, the grace’ to do a good
thing; ‘a graceless act’ is, in some way, evil; ‘a
graceless youth’ is one walking, somehow, on the path
¢ leading to perdition. And we feel, and say, that it is
P grace which makes a poor man often more virtuous,
. and virtuously wise, though ignorant and in other
| ways not wise-minded, than clever, better-educated,
; and more intellectual rich ones.
Whoever thus believes in a superhuman gift, which
supplies, in the higher life of man, the ordinary powers
of nature, or elevates these to the attainment of what
requires more than ordinary qualities, will hardly be
able to deny that this supernatural aid will be copiously
granted, where the whole energy of a soul is directed
exclusively to the most holy and sublime of purposes,
the knowledge and contemplation of God. If it be
easily accepted that any one reading, with pure and
simple docility, His written records is helped by this
grace to understand them, it surely is not much to ask,
that one may expect no less assistance when, instead
of the eye running over a written page, the entire soul
is centred in Him, and every power, and every affection,
is absorbed in deep and silent meditation on His own
Divine essence.
xx PREFACE.
A further distinction between this application of
man’s noblest faculties combined to their simplest but
sublimest possible object, and their separate exercise
on any inferior speculation, consists in this. God, to-
wards whom the mystical contemplative directs himself,
is a living active Power, at once without and within
the soul. Every Christian believes that He deals as
such with the individual man; that in his natural life
each one has received his destiny, his time, and place,
and measure of both, by a special allotment; that m
his outward being, whatever befalls him, he is the
ward of a personal Providence; while in his inward
and unseen existence, he receives visitations of light, of
remorse, of strength, and of guidance, which can apply
and belong to him alone.
If so, how can he doubt that one of his own kind
and class, who, more than tens of thousands, singles
out that Giver of every good gift as supereminent, or
rather sole claimant of his soul’s best tributes; the throne
on which all his ideal conceptions of the great and the
good are concentrated in a single unclouded vision of
majesty and glory ; the altar on which are laid, in wil-
ling oblation, all his tenderest affections, and, in ready
immolation, every inferior appetite and desire—who can
_ doubt that such a one establishes a right to a larger
share than others of the active interposition of Divine
kindness, and of personal favour in seconding his dis-
interested love ?
These two differences, great and essential, show that
we have been only illustrating, rather than vindicating,
PREFACE. XxXi
the spiritual science of 8S. John, by comparing it with
other classes of knowledge. We have endeavoured to
prove that, even prescinding from the spiritual qua-
lity, which is its characteristic, there is nothing
singular, unnatural, or reprehensible in what would
only add one more, and a most worthy, mental pursuit,
to those which generally receive not mere appro-
bation but praise.
And hence the religious and ascetic contemplative
may be allowed not only to deserve equal admiration
with the poet or philosopher, but to be as fit as either
for the ordinary duties of life, and in as full possession
of practical and social virtues.
Having thus, by this analogy, disposed the unin-
itiated reader to judge unprejudicedly of this spiritual
occupation of so many persons of singularly virtuous
life in the Catholic Church, we may invite him to con-
sider if it have not strong presumptions in its favour.
But, first, it may be well to give a brief explanation
of this religious mysticism, of which the works of S.
John are considered to treat so admirably. What
we have already said will greatly assist us.
In the Catholic Church, besides public or private
vocal prayer, everyone is directed and urged to the
practice of mental prayer, or meditation. For this
duty the Church furnishes simple rules and methods,
varying somewhat, but all with one practical end.
She has at hand almost countless models, forms, and
even fully-developed draughts, scarcely requiring to
be filled in.
XXll ; PREFACE.
In carrying out this familiar practice, it will be
obvious that very different degrees of success will be
attained. To some it continues, almost to the end,
irksome and trying, full of distraction and imperfec-
. tion. This may easily arise from natural deficiencies
in the mind, or from habitual negligence. But to a
willing and persevering mind, these difficulties will
diminish, and the power of concentrating the thoughts
and affections upon a given subject will increase and
strengthen.
Thus far, anyone may aspire, with every chance of
success. Then comes a higher stage ; when this power
of fixing the mind is not only easy, but most pleasing ;
when, without formal guidance, the soul rests, like the
bird poised upon its wings, motionless above the earth, ©
plunged, as it were, in the calm atmosphere which sur-
rounds and sustains it on every side. This is the state
of contemplation, when the placid action of a deeply
inward thoughtfulness, undisturbed by other objects,
is intent on gazing upon images and scenes fixed or
passing as on a mirror before it, without exertion or
fatigue, almost without note of time.
This condition, with its requisite power, is also attain-
able by those who regularly and seriously apply to
meditation.* Yet, when we have reached it, we are
still standing on the ground, and have not set foot on
* Anyone familiar with the Exercises of S, Ignatius will understand
the difference between meditation and contemplation, in the sense here
used ; and how from one he is led to the other. This is very different
from the ‘prayer of contemplation,’ which belongs to mystical theology.
i
PREFACE. Xxiii
the first step of the ‘mystical ladder, which §. John
teaches how to mount.
Far above this earthly exercise of contemplation, is
one which belongs to a much higher and purer sphere,
above the clouds and mists of the one in which
we move. To reach it, is given to few; and of those ©
few, fewer still have left us records of their ex-
perience. Yet—and this is sufficient for our present
purpose—that the consummation of their desires, and
attainment of their scope, was a closer union with God,
is acknowledged by all. The soul, thoroughly purified
of all other affections, reaches a sublime and super-
natural power of settling all its faculties in the con-
templation of the Supreme Being with such clearness
and intensity, that its very existence seems lost in
Him; the most perfect conformity and uniformity
with all the emanations of His Will are established as
its guiding laws; and, as far as is yet compatible,
union the most complete is obtained between the im-
perfect spirit of man and the infinite Spirit that created
‘it to its own image and likeness.
Now, this aim of infirm humanity, and the possibility
of reaching it, may appear, at first sight, extravagant
and presumptuous. Yet there has hardly ever, if ever,
existed a religious system which has not supposed
such an aspiration as its highest, but still possible,
flight to be within the reach of some more favoured
votaries.
It is too well known to require proof that there
existed, beyond a gross visible idolatry, a hidden, eso-
XxiV PREFACE.
teric, and mysterious system in the mythologies of the
East, handed down in the succession of their priesthoods.
The mystic teachings of India, the best known to us,
because we possess their works, reveal this doctrine to
us, that contemplation is the means by which a man
may attain to unification of himself with the Deity,
rising by steps gradually to this almost blissful enjoy-
ment of His presence. In China the sect or school of
Lao-tseu, with which the learned Abel-Remusat made
Europe acquainted by a special memoir, taught and
practised the same mystical system.
Chaldea and Egypt no doubt held it also; for it was
from them that Pythagoras borrowed, and infused into
the philosophy of Greece and Italy precisely the same
doctrine ; for, while his foolish theory, also Oriental, of
transmigration put off to an indefinite period the frui-
tion of the Divine essence, he taught that the soul,
thoroughly purified and detached from every inferior
affection, could, through contemplation, attain a union
with God.
Although this sublime philosophy became obscured
in the ages which succeeded him, it shone forth again
in the Neo-platonic school—in Plotinus, Porphyrius,
and their followers. Whether they merely revived a —
faded, or published an occult, tradition of their heathen
philosophy, or whether they drew disfigured doctrines
and practices from the still young and fresh Christianity
of their times, it matters but little. In the one case
we conclude how instinctive it is to man, even amidst
absurd wanderings of his intellect, to expect, nay to
ee ee
ae er a ae
PREFACE. XXV
crave for, not merely an approach to God, but unifica-
tion with Him ;* and such a noble and holy desire and
longing of humanity may naturally expect to find
satisfaction in the true revelation of man’s Creator.
In the second hypothesis, we must admit that already
Christianity had sufficiently developed the germs of its
mystical system to be known to aliens, and even
enemies.
Indeed, we cannot doubt that the religion of Christ,
following the early manifestations of God in the Old
Testament, laid deep those seeds of highest contem-
plation which were at once matured in His apostles.
S. Paul, who was taken to the third heaven, to hear
words unutterable to man, and to require a severe
counterpoise to the greatness of his revelations (2 Cor.
xli.), came so to be united with his Lord as to hold but
one life with and in Him (Gal. ii. 20; Phil. i. 21).
» As to the existence, in the seers and holy sages of
the Old Law, of a state of unitive contemplation, as in
Abraham, Job, Moses, and Elias, we are not called aside
to speak or consider. This point may be safely left in
the hands of 8. John of the Cross; for, though he does
not anywhere expressly treat of this point, he has so
filled his pages with quotations from every part of
Scripture in illustration of his teaching, and the texts
alleged by him are so apt and naturally applied, as to
force conviction upon us that the mystical and spiritual
* In races of both continents a ruder yet deeply symbolical feeling
prevailed at all times, that incorporation with the Deity was obtained
by partaking of the victims offered to Him.—See Gerbet’s beautiful
treatise, Sur le Dogme générateur de la Piété Catholique.
XXVi PREFACE.
communion with God was carried to the highest degree.
Nay, does not a state of close intercommunion between
God and man, through revelations, manifestations,
angelic messages, and the prophetic spirit, on the one
hand, and visions and ecstasies on the other, necessarily
suppose it? And does the frequent boldness of the
Psalmist’s familiarity with God, still more the domestic
intimacy with Him so tenderly shadowed forth in the
Canticle of Canticles, allow of any alternative except
the highest and purest admission of a perishable and
frail creature into the very sanctuary of the Divine
glory? Surely on Sinai and in the cave of Horeb such
loving intercourse of almost friendship was held.
But the history of the Church soon unfolds to us
a bright page, on which is emblazoned, as its title,
ContempLation. At the very time when martyrs are
shedding their blood and receiving the highest homage
and praise, the Church, which so loves and honours
them, reveres scarcely less the hundreds who fled from
the very persecutions which the martyrs encountered
and overcame. And the reason was, that the anchorets
and cenobites, who retired to the desert, and did not
again return to the world after peace was restored to
the Church, but swelled their numbers to thousands,
were considered by her no less conquerors of the world
and triumphers over the weakness of nature. Their
lives of solitude and silence were not idle, for they
laboured with their hands for their slender sustenance ;
but this was expressly the rule of their lives, that, even
while their hands were at work, their minds should be
NL ——————_———==_ —
PREFACE. XXvil
fixed on God. And hours of the dark night had no
other occupation.
It was this power of fixed and unflagging contem-
plation which sustained them through eighty, often,
and a hundred years of this seclusion. Many were
men of refined minds and high education, who, in their
thoughtful meditative lives, must be supposed to have
attained the highest refinement of devout application
to spiritual things which can be enjoyed on earth.
And what pious solitaries thus gained in the desert of
the Thebais, our own hermits, like Guthlake, and
monks, like Cuthbert, as surely possessed. Without
the peaceful enjoyment of such a sweet interior reward,
their lives would have been intolerable.
So necessary does the power of communing with
God alone, and ‘ face to face,’ appear to every class of
Christians, that not only the ascetics of the Eastern
Church, or the mystics of the Western, profess to
possess it, but even the least enthusiastic forms of re-
ligion claim, or admit it. Jacob Boéhme and Sweden-
borg have found plenty of admirers ; the latter is still
leader of a sect. It would be invidious to enter into a
comparison between the writings of these men and the
volumes before us. We refer to them only as evi-
dence that every form of Christianity feels the want
of some transcendental piety, which bears the soul
beyond the dominion and almost out of the prison of
the ‘body of death,’ and allows it a free and familiar
intercourse with God, as of spirit with spirit.
When, however, perusing the writings of 8. John,
XXXVI PREFACE.
the reader will find no symptom of fanaticism, no
arrogation of superior privileges, of inspirations, Divine
guidance, or angelic ministrations, as are to be found
in pretended mystics. There is scarcely an allusion to
himself, except occasionally to apologise for being so
unequal to the sublime doctrines which he is unfolding,
or for the rudeness of his style. Never, for a moment,
does he let us know, that he is communicating to us
the treasures of his own experience, or describing his
own sensations. One sees and knows it. A man who
- writes a handbook of travel need not tell us, whether
or no, he has passed over the route himself. We feel
if he has, by the minuteness of his details, by the
freshness of his descriptions, by the exactness of his
acquaintance with men and things.
Then, no one who had not tasted, and relished, the
sweetness of the spiritual food prepared by him, could
possibly treat of it with such zest; its delicious flavour
is on the lips that speak about it. Nor need the reader
imagine that he will hear from this humble and holy
man accounts of visions, or ecstasies, or marvellous
occurrences to himself, or others; or rules, or means
for attaining supernatural illuminations, or miraculous
gifts. No; he proposes to guide any pupil, who feels
drawn by God, to supreme love of Him, and towards
those regions of contemplative prayer in which He
often communicates Himself most intimately to the
human soul; but only through a dark and painful
road, from which all joy and almost consolation is
excluded.
PREFACE. XXiX
It is now time to lay before the reader an outline,
though imperfect, of what he will find in the volumes
before him. The first contains two treatises, embody-
ing what may be called the portion of mystical instruc-
tion, most fully and excellently imparted by 8. John.
It may be considered a rule in this highest spiritual
life, that, before it is attained, there must be a period
of severe probation, lasting often many years, and
separating it from the previous state, which may have
been one of most exalted virtue. Probably, many
whom the Catholic Church honours as saints have
never received this singular gift. But, in reading the
biography of such as have been favoured with it, we
shall invariably find that the possession of it has been
preceded, not only by a voluntary course of mortifica-
tion of sense, fervent devotion, constant meditation,
and separation from the world, but also by a trying
course of dryness, weariness of spirit, insipidity of de-
votional duties, and, what is infinitely worse, dejection,
despondency, temptation to give all up in disgust, and
almost despair. During this tremendous probation, the
soul is dark, parched, and wayless, as ‘ earth without
water,’ as one staggering across a desert; or, to rise to
a nobler illustration, like Him, remotely, who lay on
the ground on Olivet, loathing the cup which he had
longed for, beyond the sweet chalice which He had
drunk with His Apostles just before.
Assuming, as we do, that this trial comes upon the
soul from God, its purpose is clear. That sublime
condition to which it aspires, and is called, of spiritual
XXX PREFACE.
union with infinite holiness, and of the nearest approach
allowable to the closer gazing of blessed spirits into
the unfathomable glory, requires a purity like gold in
the crucible, and a spiritualising unclothing of whatever
can be cast off, of our earthly and almost of our cor-
poreal existence. The soul is to be winged, strongly
as the eagle, gently as the dove,* to leave all this world
behind it, and seek a sweet repose.
Detachment and purity are the reasons for this inter-
mediate state of desolation; detachment not merely
from outward objects and from visible bonds, but from
our own wills and desires, however virtuous; detach-
ment from our own ways of even seeking God, and
still more from our sensible enjoyment of devotion, and
the very sweetness of His service. There must be no
trust in one’s own intellect, where faith alone can guide
through the deep darkness; no reliance upon the
‘ordinary aids to contemplation, for the very impulses
and first thrilling touches of love must come from God’s
delicate hand; no impatience for release, no desire to
return back. It is an earthly purgatory, in which all
dross is painfully drained out, all straw and stubble
burnt up.
And what is the result? The soul has indeed been
brought into a state little below that of angels; but
it has given proof of a love than which theirs can-.
not be higher. That dark period of hard probation
* ‘They shall take wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary’
(Isa. x1. 31) ; ‘ Who will give me wings like a dove, and I will fly and
be at rest?’ Psalm liv. 7).
we
PREFACE, XxXxi
has completely inured her to fidelity to God, not for
the sake of His rewards, not for the happiness of His
service even here below, but for His own dear and
good sake, because He zs her God. And this per-
severing and persisting love of Him, without a ray or
even a glimmering of the brightness of His countenance
to light and cheer the dreary path, has surely, by
gentle patience, won a returning love beyond the
claims of ordinarily virtuous souls.
It is after this often long, but always severe, trial
of faithful love, that what one may call the mystical
espousals of God with the soul take place; when its
spiritual existence may be said to have been raised into
a heavenly sphere; when the exercise of that sublime
privilege of contemplation has become so habitual, that
scarce do the knees touch the ground in prayer, than
the affections flash upwards from the heart, and are
embosomed and absorbed at once in almost blissful
fruition in God’s mighty love; and when the body is
busy with the affairs of life, these no more hinder the ©
familiar colloquies and the burning glances of affection
directed to the one exclusive Ruler of the soul, than
did the slim and light palm-leaves woven by the
desert anchoret distract his thoughts.
This happy consummation of both trials and desires
forms the subject of mystical treatises by many who
have enjoyed it. §. John does not, except incidentally,
dwell upon it. He does not systematically deal with
those who bask on the summit of that spiritual Thabor;
he only guides the pilgrim to it. The ascent to the
VOL. I. b
XXXil PREFACE.
mystical mountain is rugged and steep; the journey
can only be made in the darkness of probationary pri-
vations of inward light and joy. Hence the titles
of his two great treatises—‘ The Ascent of Mount
Carmel ;’ ‘The Obscure Night of the Soul.’
Each of these works may be said to go over the
same ground, though without repetitions, or even
tiresome similarities. To each is prefixed a poem of
eight stanzas, which forms not merely an introduction,
but an argument rather, to a full dissertation on mys-
tical science. But our author does not go beyond the
two or three first strophes in his commentary, which
often extends to many chapters; copious, most me-
thodical, and rich upon one only line.
Mount Carmel is his natural type of the spiritual
mount: for there dwelt his ‘Father Elias’ (vol. i. p.
143), whom the Carmelites revere as their model and
founder ; and there in a dark cavern he spake with
God, and even caught a glimpse of His glorious being,
in His might, and in His gentleness (3 Kings xix. 8).
Up, up, slowly but warily, he guides his scholar along
the steep and perilous ascent. He may be compared
to the Alpine guide who, himself familiar with the
craggy path, and sure of his steps, is all solicitude for
his inexperienced charge, and watches and directs
every movement. He makes him keep his eyes intent
on the rude path before his feet, or on the slippery
stair which he has cut out for them. He does not
allow him to look down into the valley below, beau-
tiful though it be, lest his head turn giddy, and he
OO —————_— ——_—
PREFACE, — XXXiii
topple over the bluff precipice; nor to gaze upwards,
in immature hope, towards the bright pinnacles, which
reflect and refract the sun’s rays, lest he become
weary at their distance, and blinded by their bril-
liancy, and unable to pick his steps. Now the faithful
guide takes his hand and leads him; now he bids
him rely on his trusty pole, throwing his weight upon
it ; now he encourages him to gather all his strength,
and bound over the yawning crevasse. And so in the
end he lands his charge safe upon the high and dizzy
summit, whence he may look around, and above, and
downwards in safety, and enjoy a sweet repose and a
refreshing banquet. So careful, so minute, so tender,
and so resolute is the guidance of 8. John in the
‘ Ascent of Mount Carmel.’
And through ‘The Obscure Night, no less safe by
its prudence, and encouraging by its firmness, is his
leadership to the soul. The twofold night, that of
sense and that of the spirit, may be securely traversed
under his direction, and the soul return to a daylight
sevenfold brighter than that of the ordinary sun.
After thus attempting, however imperfectly, to give
an outline of §. John’s principal treatises on the spi-
ritual life, no space remains to say anything about the
beautiful writings which fill the second volume. We
are mistaken if many readers, who have not courage
or disposition to master the abstruser and sublimer
doctrines and precepts of the first, will not peruse with
delight the more practical and cheerful maxims of the
second part, and even find exquisite satisfaction in
b2
ed “Before closing this preface, it is a mere act a Oe is
ae say, that the translation of these difficult works has
a ‘been made with a care seldom bestowed upon such
books when rendered from a foreign language. So
a simple, so clear, and so thoroughly idiomatic is this
- ; version, that the reader will never have to read a
sentence twice from any obscurity of language; how-
i ever abstruse the subject may be. Indeed, he will
_ almost find a difficulty in believing that the work is a
= translation, and has not been written originally as he
ead it, in his own tongue.
Lonpon: February 23, 1864.
Ml oS tae
+ Bee
CONTENTS |
THE FIRST VOLUME.
THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
PAGE
STANZAS : ¥ ; > ; ; : 3 d ; ; s 1
PROLOGUE. . ; 7 ‘ Fis Es ; Ps » . 3
BOOK I,
THE NATURE OF THE OBSCURE NIGHT, THE NECESSITY OF PASSING
THROUGH IT IN ORDER TO ATTAIN TO THE DIVINE UNION: AND
SPECIALLY THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF SENSE AND DESIRE, WITH
THE EVILS WHICH THESE INFLICT ON THE SOUL.
CHAPTER I.
TWO KINDS OF THIS NIGHT, CORRESPONDING WITH THE DIVISION OF THE
SOUL INTO HIGHER AND LOWER . e : F F . * E 8
CHAPTER IL.
THE NATURE AND CAUSE OF THE OBSCURE NIGHT . . . . 9
CHAPTER III.
THE FIRST CAUSE, THE PRIVATION OF THE DESIRE r F F a2 aE
CHAPTER IV.
THE NECESSITY OF PASSING TRULY THROUGH THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF
SENSE, WHICH IS THE MORTIFICATION OF THE DESIRE ; 4 "eR
CHAPTER V.
CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT. PROOFS FROM SCRIPTURE , . 18
XXXvi CONTENTS OF
CHAPTER VI.
PAGE
TWO GREAT EVILS OF THE DESIRES: NEGATIVE AND POSITIVE. PROOFS
FROM SCRIPTURE : . . s 3 ‘ : : : 2 28
CHAPTER VII.
THE DESIRES TORMENT THE SOUL. PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS . seen
CHAPTER VIII.
THE DESIRES DARKEN THE SOUL. PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS 2 be te
CHAPTER IX.
THE DESIRES POLLUTE THE SOUL. PROOFS FROM SCRIPTURE . . 2 NS
CHAPTER X.
THE DESIRES MAKE THE SOUL LUKEWARM, AND ENFEEBLE VIRTUE. PROOFS
AND ILLUSTRATIONS . i eg < . F : ; a a) ede
CHAPTER XI,
THE NECESSITY OF FREEDOM FROM ALL DESIRES, HOWEVER SLIGHT, FOR
THE DIVINE UNION ‘ } “ = : j = : . 39
CHAPTER XII,
THE NATURE OF THOSE DESIRES WHICH SUFFICE TO INJURE THE soUL. . 44
CHAPTER XIII.
HOW THE SOUL ENTERS BY FAITH INTO THE NIGHT OF SENSE 2 se
CHAPTER XIV.
EXPLANATION OF THE SECOND LINE OF THE STANZA f roe |
CHAPTER XV.
EXPLANATION OF THE LAST LINES OF THE STANZA ; : : - 63
BOOK II.
PROXIMATE MEANS OF UNION, FAITH. THE SECOND NIGHT
OF THE SPIRIT.
CHAPTER I.
EXPLANATION OF THE SECOND STANZA.
CUAPTER II.
THE SECOND PART, OR CAUSE, OF THIS NIGHT—FAITH. TWO REASONS
WHY IT IS DARKER THAN THE FIRST AND THIRD ‘ ; ‘ oS
hat? ae ~
THE FIRST VOLUME. XXXVI1L
CHAPTER III.
PAGE
FAITH, THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL, PROOFS FROM REASON AND THE
HOLY SCRIPTURES ; : : 3 3 i : : : ee Oe
CHAPTER IV.
HOW THE SOUL MUST BE IN DARKNESS, IN ORDER TO BE DULY GUIDED
BY FAITH TO THE HIGHEST CONTEMPLATION s 7 . iy AOR
CHAPTER V,
THE UNION OF THE SOUL WITH GOD. A COMPARISON . . . 65
CHAPTER VI.
THE THREE THEOLOGICAL VIRTUES PERFECT THE POWERS OF THE SOUL,
AND BRING THEM INTO A STATE OF EMPTINESS AND DARKNESS. PROOFS
FROM 8, LUKE AND ISAIAS . i P : F Z ‘ : ee i,
CHAPTER VII.
THE STRAITNESS OF THE WAY OF LIFE. THE DETACHMENT AND FREEDOM
NECESSARY FOR THOSE WHO WALK IN IT. THE DETACHMENT OF THE
INTELLECT . * 5 5 4 . ¢ r és é P 74
CHAPTER VIII.
NO CREATURE, NO KNOWLEDGE, COMPREHENSIBLE BY THE INTELLECT, CAN
SUBSERVE AS PROXIMATE MEANS OF UNION WITH GOD i ; rea.
CHAPTER IX.
FAITH IS THE PROXIMATE AND PROPORTIONATE MEANS OF THE®@INTELLECT
BY WHICH THE SOUL MAY ATTAIN TO THE DIVINE UNION OF LOVE,
PROOFS FROM THE HOLY SCRIPTURES ‘ , ° ° . . 86
CHAPTER X.
THE DIVISIONS OF THE APPREHENSIONS AND ACTS OF THE INTELLECT . 87
CHAPTER XI.
OF THE HURT AND HINDRANCE RESULTING FROM INTELLECTUAL APPRE-
HENSIONS SUPERNATURALLY PRODUCED THROUGH THE INSTRUMENTALITY
OF THE EXTERIOR SENSES. HOW THE SOUL IS TO BE GUIDED UNDER
SUCH CIRCUMSTANCES . ° ; . “ ‘ ‘ ; F - 88
CHAPTER XII.
OF NATURAL AND IMAGINARY APPREHENSIONS, THEIR NATURE, THEY
CANNOT BE PROPORTIONATE MEANS OF UNION. THE EVIL RESULTS OF
NOT KNOWING HOW TO DETACH ONESELF FROM THEM IN TIME ,. . 96
CHAPTER XIII.
E SIGNS TO BE OBSERVED BY THE SPIRITUAL MAN THAT HE MAY
KNOW WHEN TO WITHDRAW THE INTELLECT FROM IMAGINARY FORMS
AND DISCURSIVE MEDITATIONS . ie ; * 4 : .
CHAPTER XIV.
_ THE FITNESS OF THESE SIGNS. THE NECESSITY OF OBSERVING THEM FOR
SPIRITUAL PROGRESS . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XV.
OF THE OCCASIONAL NECESSITY OF MEDITATING AND EXERTING THE NA-
i)
=~.
TURAL FACULTIES ON THE PART OF THOSE WHO BEGIN TO ENTER ON
THE CONTEMPLATIVE STATE . : : . . + oe
_ CHAPTER XVI.
OF IMAGINARY APPREHENSIONS SUPERNATURALLY REPRESENTED TO THE
FANCY. THEY CANNOT BE PROXIMATE MEANS OF UNION WITH GOD .
CHAPTER XVII.
OF THE ENDS AND WAY OF GOD IN COMMUNICATING SPIRITUAL BLESSINGS
TO THE SOUL THROUGH THE INTERIOR SENSES. ANSWER TO THE
QUESTION PROPOSED . 4 ; : ; ; F : s a
CHAPTER XVIII.
‘HOW SOULS ARE INJURED BECAUSE THEIR SPIRITUAL DIRECTORS DO NOT
GUIDE THEM ARIGHT THROUGH THESE VISIONS. HOW THESE VISIONS,
THOUGH FROM GOD, BECOME OCCASIONS OF ERROR . . . .
© CHAPTER XIX.
VISIONS, REVELATIONS, AND LOCUTIONS, THOUGH TRUE AND FROM GOD,
MAY DECEIVE. PROOFS FROM HOLY SCRIPTURE . . . . .
CHAPTER XX.
_ PROOFS FROM SCRIPTURE THAT THE DIVINE LOCUTIONS, THOUGH ALWAYS
TRUE, ARE NOT ALWAYS CERTAIN IN THEIR CAUSES . . . .
CHAPTER XXI.
GOD IS AT TIMES DISPLEASED WITH CERTAIN PRAYERS, THOUGH HE AN-
SWERS THEM, ILLUSTRATIONS OF HIS ANGER WITH SUCH PRAYERS .
CHAPTER XXII.
IT IS NOT LAWFUL, UNDER THE NEW LAW, AS IT WAS UNDER THE OLD,
TO ENQUIRE OF GOD BY SUPERNATURAL WAYS. THIS DOCTRINE PRO-
FITABLE FOR THE UNDERSTANDING OF THE MYSTERIES OF OUR HOLY
FAITH, PROOFS FROM S, PAUL , . . . .
112
114
122
128
133
142
147
155
, 1 wt . is
.
THE FIRST -VOLUME. XXXI1X
CHAPTER XXIII.
OF THE PURELY SPIRITUAL APPREHENSIONS OF THE INTELLECT . .
CHAPTER XXIV.
OF THE TWO KINDS OF SPIRITUAL VISIONS WHICH COME BY THE SUPER-
NATURAL WAY . : . ; : ; ‘ . , ; ‘
CHAPTER XXV.
OF REVELATIONS: THEIR NATURE AND DIVISION . . . . .
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE INTELLIGENCE OF PURE TRUTHS. TWO KINDS THEREOF. THE CON-
DUCT OF THE SOUL THEREIN . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXVII.
OF THE SECOND KIND OF REVELATIONS, THE DISCLOSURE OF SECRETS AND
HIDDEN MYSTERIES. HOW THEY MAY SUBSERVE AND HINDER THE
DIVINE UNION. OF THE MANY DELUSIONS OF THE DEVIL INCIDENT TO
THEM . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXVIII.
OF THE INTERIOR LOCUTIONS WHICH OCCUR SUPERNATURALLY. THEIR
DIFFERENT KINDS : . . . . , : ° : .
CHAPTER XXIX.
OF THE FIRST KIND OF WORDS FORMED BY THE MIND SELF-RECOLLECTED.
THE CAUSES OF THEM. THE ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES OF
THEM . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXX,
OF INTERIOR WORDS FORMALLY WROUGHT IN A SUPERNATURAL WAY. OF
THE DANGERS INCIDENT THERETO; AND A NECESSARY CAUTION AGAINST
DELUSIONS , . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXXI.
OF THE INTERIOR SUBSTANTIAL LOCUTIONS: THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN
THEM AND THE FORMAL. THE PROFITABLENESS OF THEM, THE RE-
SIGNATION AND REVERENCE OF THE SOUL IN RESPECT OF THEM .
CHAPTER XXXII.
OF INTELLECTUAL APPREHENSIONS RESULTING FROM THE INTERIOR IM-
PRESSIONS SUPERNATURALLY EFFECTED, THE SOURCES OF THEM. THE
CONDUCT TO BE OBSERVED BY THE SOUL, SO THAT THESE APPREHEN-
SIONS SHALL NOT HINDER IT ON THE WAY OF UNION . .
169
174
175
184
188
189
195
199
201
BOOK IL
THE PURGATION AND ACTIVE NIGHT OF THE MEMORY
AND THE WILL.
CHAPTER I.
OF THE NATURAL APPREHENSIONS OF THE MEMORY: WHICH IS TO BE
PAGE
EMPTIED OF THEM, THAT THE SOUL, ACCORDING TO THAT FACULTY, —
MAY BE UNITED WITH GOD . : . . . . . .
CHAPTER II.
THREE KINDS OF EVILS TO WHICH THE SOUL IS LIABLE, WHEN NOT IN DARK-~
NESS; WITH RESPECT TO THE KNOWLEDGE AND REFLECTIONS OF THE
MEMORY. EXPLANATION OF THE FIRST . . . . . .
CHAPTER III.
OF THE SECOND EVIL, COMING FROM THE EVIL SPIRIT THROUGH THE
NATURAL APPREHENSIONS OF THE MEMORY : » emee*s .
CHAPTER IV.
OF THE THIRD EVIL, PROCEEDING FROM THE DISTINCT NATURAL KNOW-
LEDGE OF THE MEMORY . ‘ . ; . . . ‘ °
CHAPTER V.
THE PROFITABLENESS OF FORGETFULNESS AND EMPTINESS, WITH REGARD
TO ALL THOUGHTS AND KNOWLEDGE, WHICH NATURALLY OCCUR TO THE
MEMORY . . . . . : “¢ . . . .
CHAPTER VI.
OF THE SECOND KIND OF APPREHENSIONS: THE IMAGINARY AND SUPER-
NATURAL . : ‘ ; :
CHAPTER VIL
‘THE EVILS INFLICTED ON THE SOUL BY THE KNOWLEDGE OF SUPERNA-
TURAL THINGS IF REFLECTED UPON. THEIR NUMBER . . .
CHAPTER VIII.
OF THE SECOND EVIL: THE DANGER OF SELF-CONCEIT AND PRESUMPTION
CHAPTER IX.
OF THE THIRD EVIL: THE WORK OF THE DEVIL THROUGH THE IMAGINARY
APPREHENSIONS OF THE MEMORY
. CF . . . . .
213
216
217
219
221
222
224
226
oer
THE FIRST VOLUME. xli
CHAPTER X.
PAGE
OF THE FOURTH EVIL OF THE DISTINCT SUPERNATURAL APPREHENSIONS
OF THE MEMORY: THE IMPEDIMENT TO UNION . ; ; : . 228
CHAPTER XJ.
OF THE FIFTH EVIL, RESULTING FROM THE IMAGINARY SUPERNATURAL
APPREHENSIONS: LOW AND UNSEEMLY VIEWS OF GOD. = : ~ 228
CHAPTER XII.
THE BENEFITS OF WITHDRAWING THE SOUL FROM THE APPREHENSIONS OF
THE IMAGINATION. ANSWER TO AN OBJECTION, THE DIFFERENCE BE-
TWEEN THE NATURAL AND SUPERNATURAL IMAGINARY APPREHENSIONS 230
CHAPTER XIII.
OF SPIRITUAL KNOWLEDGE AS IT RELATES TO THE MEMORY . 5 . 236
CHAPTER XIV.
GENERAL DIRECTIONS FOR THE GUIDANCE OF THE SPIRITUAL MAN IN RE-
LATION TO THE MEMORY . ? Z - ; ; ¢ - . 238
CHAPTER XV.
OF THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE WILL. PROOFS FROM DEUTERONOMY AND
THE PSALMS, DIVISION OF THE AFFECTIONS OF THE WILL ‘ . 240
CHAPTER XVI.
OF THE FIRST AFFECTION OF THE WILL. WHAT JOY IS. ITS DIVERS
SOURCES . i - ‘ 4 3 ps R “ J « 248
CHAPTER XVII.
OF JOY IN TEMPORAL GOODS. HOW IT IS TO BE DIRECTED . . . 244
CHAPTER XVIII.
OF THE EVILS RESULTING FROM JOY IN TEMPORAL GOODS , : o, ae
CHAPTER XIX.
THE BENEFITS RESULTING FROM WITHDRAWING OUR JOY FROM TEMPORAL
THINGS F ¢ P 3 3 ‘ , A 2 : A 253
CHAPTER XX.
THE JOY OF THE WILL IN NATURAL GOODS IS VANITY. HOW TO DIRECT
THE WILL TO GOD THEREIN 7 : Z ‘ : ; ‘ . 256
CHAPTER XXIII.
OF THE THIRD KIND, SENSIBLE GOODS. THEIR NATURU AND VARIETIES.
THE. REGULATION OF THE WILL WITH RESPECT TO THEM . . .
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE EVILS WHICH BEFALL THE SOUL WHEN THE WILL HAS JOY IN SEN-
SIBLE GOODS . . : . . . . . . « .
CHAPTER XXV.,
THE SPIRITUAL AND TEMPORAL BENEFITS OF SELF-DENIAL IN THE JOY OF
SENSIBLE THINGS . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE FOURTH KIND OF GOODS: MORAL GOODS. HOW THE WILL MAY LAW-
FULLY REJOICE IN THEM . . . . . . . - .
_CHAPTER XXVII.
SEVEN EVILS TO WHICH MEN ARE LIARLE IF THE WILL REJOICES IN
MORAL GOODS . . . . . . . . . . .
.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE BENEFITS OF REPRESSING ALL JOY IN MORAL GOODS . . .
CHAPTER XXTX.
THE FIFTH KIND OF GOODS, IN WHICH THE WHHL HAS JOY: THE SUPER-
NATURAL. THEIR NATURE, AND THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THEM AND
_ SPIRITUAL GOODS. HOW JOY IN THEM IS TO BE DIRECTED UNTO GOD
CHAPTER XXX. ”
THE EVILS RESULTING FROM THE WILL’S REJOICING IN THIS KIND OF
Goops. s . 5 ‘
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE BENEFITS OF SELF-DENIAL IN THE JOY OF SUPERNATURAL GRACES .
267
269
273
276
_ 281
283
290
re. SPE eee! SE
THE SIXTH KIND OF GOODS IN WHICH THE WILL REJOICES. THEIR NA-
TURE, THE FIRST DIVISION OF THEM Me Be ts
CHAPTER XXXIII.
OF THE SPIRITUAL GOODS DISTINCTLY COGNISABLE BY THE INTELLECT AND
THE MEMORY. THE CONDUCT OF THE WILL WITH RESPECT TO JOY IN”
THEM Os
. . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XXXIV.
OF THE SWEET SPIRITUAL GOODS WHICH DISTINCTLY AFFECT THE WILL.
THEIR DIVERSITIES ; 5 . 293
. - . . . . .
CHAPTER XXXV.
THE SUBJECT CONTINUED. THE IGNORANCE OF SOME PEOPLE IN THE
MATTER OF IMAGES . - 7 > ; . : Z : . 297
CHAPTER XXXVI.
HOW THE JOY OF THE WILL IN SACRED IMAGES IS TO BE REFERRED TO
GOD, SO THAT THERE SHALL BE NO HINDRANCE IN IT, OR OCCASIONS
OF ERROR . - é . ‘ . 3800
CHAPTER XXXVII.
MOTIVE GOODS CONTINUED. ORATORIES AND PLACES OF PRAYER . . 302
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE RIGHT USE OF CHURCHES AND ORATORIES. HOW THE SOUL IS TO BE
DIRECTED THROUGH THEM UNTO GOD . . 3805
CHAPTER XXXIX.
CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT ‘ 4 SOT
CHAPTER XL.
OF SOME EVILS TO WHICH MEN ARE LIABLE WHO INDULGE IN THE SEN-
SIBLE SWEETNESS WHICH RESULTS FROM OBJECTS AND PLACES OF
DEVOTION . 7 2 . 3808
CHAPTER XLI.
OF THE THREE KINDS OF DEVOTIONAL PLACES. HOW THE WILL IS TO
REGULATE ITSELF IN THE MATTER ‘ . 3809
CHAPTER XLII.
OF OTHER MOTIVES TO PRAYER ADOPTED BY MANY; NAMELY, MANY CERE-
MONIES. . ’ : ‘ : - $12
JOY AND STRENGTH OF THE
+’ - < 9
i eas mae aa ane” 3
OF THE SECOND KIND OF DISTINCT GOODS IN WHICH THE WILL VAINLY
THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE
BOOK I.
OF THE NIGHT OF SENSE. =
‘ 2
CHAPTER I. ; SS
| OF THE IMPERFECTIONS OF BEGINNERS .. ; : 2 o) “wl BSF a
CHAPTER IL. : a
OF SOME IMPERFECTIONS TO WHICH BEGINNERS ARE LIABLR IN THE Se
MATTER OF PRIDE : ‘ . ‘ : * . vee - 329 all
CHAPTER IIL. “Ss
- a
OF THE IMPERFECTIONS OF AVARICE, IN THE SPIRITUAL SENSE . - 333 “i
itu
CHAPTER IV. =<
ae
OF THE IMPERFECTION OF LUXURY, SPIRITUALLY UNDERSTOOD ‘ « 3835 aie
OF THE IMPERFECTIONS OF ANGER Ne ES OS Ae
i< CHAPTER VI. a
OF THE IMPERFECTIONS OF SPIRITUAL GLUTTONY . £ A $ . 339 rl 7
i 5a
eS CHAPTER VII. =
OF THE IMPERFECTIONS OF ENVY AND SPIRITUAL SLOTH : : . 343 “-
CHAPTER VIII.
EXPLANATION OF THE FIRST LINE OF THE FIRST STANZA : : . 346 os
re
~.
IS WALKING IN THE WAY OF THIS NIGHT OR SENSITIVE PURGATION
CHAPTER X.
HOW THEY ARE TO CONDUCT THEMSELVES WHO HAVE ENTERED THE
OBSCURE NIGHT . . . . . . . . e °
CHAPTER XI.
EXPLANATION OF THE SECOND LINE OF THE FIRST STANZA
.
. 3859
CHAPTER XIII.
OF OTHER BENEFITS OF THE NIGHT OF SENSE ,
CHAPTER XIV.
. 3865
THE LAST LINE OF THE FIRST STANZA EXPLAINED
. 869
BOOK II.
OF THE NIGHT OF THE SPIRIT.
CHAPTER I.
THE SECOND NIGHT; THAT OF TIE SPIRIT. WHEN IT BEGINS
. 373
CHAPTER I.
OF CERTAIN IMPERFECTIONS OF PROFICIENTS .
INTRODUCTION
°
. 376
CHAPTER ITI.
«ie
CHAPTER IV.
THE FIRST STANZA SPIRITUALLY EXPLAINED
. 3879
. 3856
CHAPTER XII.
OF THE BENEFITS OF THE NIGHT OF SENSE
1 bee
aS
CHAPTER V.
| CONTEMPLATION IS NOT A NIGHT ONLY, BUT PAIN AND TORMENT
"ALSO FOR THE SOUL . . . Pee ete oy os ae
CHAPTER VI.
OF OTHER SUFFERINGS OF THE SOUL IN THIS NIGHT
= : CHAPTER VIL.
Re
“1. THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. OTHER AFFLICTIONS AND TRIALS OF THE
3 ° wut > ; ‘ d : A F . : 4 - b
¢
e CHAPTER VIII.
OTHER TRIALS OF THE SOUL IN THIS STATE . ; ‘ ‘ : F
CHAPTER IX,
HOW IT IS THAT THIS NIGHT ENLIGHTENS THE MIND WHILE IT BRINGS
DARKNESS OVER IT. A : 4 : A 2 rg a Ot
CHAPTER X.
; EXPLANATION OF THIS PURGATION BY A COMPARISON . . . .
CHAPTER XI,
-- A VEHEMENT PASSION OF DIVINE LOVE THE FRUIT OF THESE SHARP AF-
: FLICTIONS OF THE SOUL F : 3 ‘ 5 ; ; ; -
: CHAPTER XII.
HOW THIS AWFUL NIGHT IS LIKE PURGATORY. HOW THE DIVINE WISDOM
ILLUMINATES MEN ON EARTH WITH THAT LIGHT IN WHICH THE ANGELS
ARE PURIFIED AND ENLIGHTENED IN HEAVEN . . . . .
CHAPTER XIII.
OTHER SWEET EFFECTS OF THE DARK NIGHT OF CONTEMPLATION . .
CHAPTER XIV.
THE LAST LINES OF THE FIRST STANZA SPIRITUALLY EXPLAINED .
380
3888
393
396
402
405
409
412
417
ty
EXPLANATION OF THE SECOND STANZA .
CHAPTER XVI.
HOW THE SOUL JOURNEYS SECURELY WHEN IN DARKNESS
CHAPTER XVII.
OBSCURE CONTEMPLATION IS SECRET .
S CHAPTER XVIII.
‘5 te HOW THIS SECRET WISDOM IS ALSO A LADDER .
CHAPTER XIX.
THE MYSTIC LADDER HAS TEN DEGREES. EXPLANATION OF THE FIRST FIVE
‘ad OF THEM . . . . . . - . . . . .
- CHAPTER XX.
sll
. OF THE OTHER FIVE DEGREES ° woo 8 F . . . :
> 4
rs
ae: CHAPTER XXI.
a. 4 THE MEANING OF ‘DISGUISED.’ THE COLOURS IN WHICH THE SOUL DIS-
= GUISES ITSELF . : . . . . . . . : :
Ps.
a CHAPTER XXII,
a
( HAPPINESS OF THE SOUL ; i . F . . ° F c
*s CHAPTER XXIII.
bP x.
-o THE WONDERFUL HIDING-PLACE OF THE SOUL, WHICH THE DEVIL, THOUGH
= HE PENETRATES INTO OTHER HIGHER PLACES, CANNOT ENTER : ¢
; CHAPTER XXIV.
THE LAST LINE OF THE SECOND STANZA EXPLAINED ‘ , ; ‘
CHAPTER XXV,
THIRD STANZA EXPLAINED ° . F ¢ : ‘ . : ‘
446
452
ERRATUM, *
Vol. I, pp. 1, 323, Second Stanza, for obseurity
THE
ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Gre : i seat Kaa , te
et oe a = SS. Wine ——h ae
| THE
ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
ARGUMENT.
Tue following stanzas are a summary of the doctrine
contained in this book of the Ascent of Mount Carmel.
They also describe how we are to ascend to the summit of Perfection, —
it, that is, to the high estate of perfection, called here union
of the soul with God. I place all the stanzas together,
because what I have to say is founded upon them. Thus
the whole substance of my book may be comprehended at
once. I shall also transcribe each stanza again, and each
line separately, as the nature of my work requires.
STANZAS
I
In an obscure night,
With anxious love inflamed,
O, happy lot!
Forth unobserved I went,
My house being now at rest.
I
In darkness and obscurity,
By the secret ladder, disguised,
O, happy lot!
In darkness and concealment,
My house being now at rest.
VOL. I. B
yy
In that happy Hehe
In secret, en oe > i —_
Seeing nought myself, . “ ia
Ps Without other light or guide
| _ Save that which in my heart was burning,
That light guided me a GS Ait te a
More surely than the noonday sun
To the place where He was waiting : for ne a
Whom I knew well, . Ae
And where none but He appeared. a
: "Fae
v | Be
O, guiding night; aa
oe O, night more lovely than the dawn ; ite a es
See . O, night that hast united a |
ies The Lover with His beloved, his
And changed her into her Love. ; r ; = *
vi a
On my flowery bosom, 3
Kept whole for Him alone, =
2 He reposed and slept ; ~s nn
aa I kept Him, and the waving ae
- Of the cedars fanned Him. ge
e As $ é ue ee F
tse: : vit 7 ee
a Then His hair floated in the breeze | a 4
That blew from the turret ; ae
He struck me on the eck ee
With His gentle hand,
And all sensation left me.
’ Vir
I continued in oblivion lost,
My head was resting on my Love;
I fainted away, abandoned, ken
And, amid the lilies forgotten,
Threw all my cares away.
ieee
ee ‘ 4 7
_ GUIDE, THE CHURCH AND HOLY SCRIPTURE. 3
PROLOGUE.
Tue dark night, through which the soul passes, on its way
to the Divine light of the perfect union of the love of
God — so far as it is in this life possible — requires for its
explanation greater experience and light of knowledge than I
possess. For so great are the trials, and so profound the dark-
ness, spiritual as well as corporal, which souls must endure,
if they will attain to perfection, that no human knowledge
can comprehend them, nor experience describe them. He
only who has passed through them can know them, but even
he cannot explain them. Therefore, while touching but
~ slightly on the subject of this dark night, I trust neither to
_ experience nor to knowledge, for both may mislead me; but
solely to the Holy Scriptures, under “the teaching of which
I cannot err, because he who speaks therein is the Holy
Ghost. Nevertheless, I accept the aid of experience and
knowledge, and if through ignorance I should err, it is not
my intention to depart from the sound doctrine of our holy
mother the Catholic Church. I resign myself absolutely to
her light, and bow down before her decisions, and moreover
to the better judgment herein of private men, be they who
they may.
It is not any personal fitness which I recognise in myself
that has led me to undertake this work, so high and so
difficult, but solely my trust in our Lord, Who, I hope, will
enable me to speak on account of the great necessities of
many souls. Many persons begin to walk in the way of
virtue — our Lord longing to lead them into the obscure
night that they may travel onwards into the Divine union —
-hut make no progress; sometimes because they will not
enter upon this night, or suffer Him to lead them into it;
and sometimes also because they do not understand their
B2
PROLOGUE
The Author's
submission
ot THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
protocun, own state, and are destitute of fit and wise directors who
Hindrances. may guide them to the summit of the mount. How miserable
it is to see many souls, to whom God has given grace to
1. Cowardice, advance —and who, had they taken courage, would have’
reached perfection — remain satisfied with narrow-minded
views of God’s dealings, through want of will or through
ignorance, or because there is not one to direct their steps,
and to teach them how to go onwards from the beginning.
And in the end, when our Lord has compassion on them,
and leads them on in spite of these hindrances, they arrive
late, with much difficulty, and less merit, because they have
not submitted themselves to His ways, nor suffered Him to
plant their feet on the pure and certain road of union.
Though it is true that God, Who conducts them, can do so
without these helps, still, because they do not yield them-
selves up to Him, they make less progress on the road,
resisting their Guide; and they merit less because they do
not submit their will, whereby their sufferings are increased.
2. self-wil, There are souls who, instead of abandoning themselves to
the care and protection of God, hinder Him rather by their
indiscreet behaviour, or resist Him like little children who,
when their mothers would carry them in their arms, struggle
* ‘and cry that they may be allowed to walk. These souls
make no progress, or if they do, it is comparable only to the
walking of an infant child.
So, then — that men may know, beginners as well as those
who have made some progress, how to resign themselves into
the hands of God when it is His pleasure to lead them — I
purpose, by His help, to furnish some directions, so that they
may understand the matter for themselves, or at least submit
to the guidance of God. Some confessors and spiritual di-
rectors, because they have no perception or experience of
these ways, are a hindrance and an evil, rather than a help
to such souls: they are like the builders of Babel; who, when
| _ |
f ; DIFFICULTIES OF THE WAY. 5
required to furnish certain materials, furnished others of a Protocun.
very different sort, because they knew not the language of :
those around them, and thts the building was stopped.
‘Come ye therefore,’ saith God, ‘let us go down and there
confound their tongue, that they may not understand one
another’s speech. And so the Lord scattered them.’ *
It is a hard and miserable thing for souls when they can- :
not comprehend their own state, nor meet with any one who
ean. For when God leads any one along the highest road of
obscure contemplation and aridity, such an one will think
himself lost; and in this darkness and affliction, temptation
and distress, some will be sure to tell him, like the comforters
of Job,f that his sufferings are the effects of melancholy,
or disordered health, or of natural temperament, or, it may
be, of some secret sin for which God has abandoned him.
Yea, they will decide that he is, or that he has been, exceed-
ingly wicked, seeing that he is thus afflicted. Some also will
say that he is going backwards, because he finds no consola-
tion or pleasure, as before, in the things of God. Thus they
multiply the sorrows of this poor soul, for his greatest trial
is the knowledge of his own misery, when it seems to him
clearer than light that he is full of evil and sin, because God
enables him, as I shall hereafter explain, to see this in the
obscure night of contemplation. And so, when he meets
with those who tell him, in accordance with his own impres-
sions, that his troubles arise out of his own sins, his grief
and misery are infinitely increased and rendered more bitter
than death.
Such confessors as these, not satisfied with considering all 4. West of
his sorrows to flow from past sins, compel him to retrace his
whole life, and to make frequent general confessions, putting
him on the rack anew. They do not understand that this is
not the time for such acts, but that it is now the day of
* Gen. xi. 7, 8. t Job iv.
6 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
protocus. God’s purgation; and when they ought to leave him alone,
5. Abuse of
grace.
comforting him, indeed, and encouraging him to bear his
trials patiently until God shall be pleased to deliver him;
for until then, notwithstanding all they may say or do, there
can be no relief.
T have to treat this matter hereafter, and how the soul is
to be guided, and how the confessor is to conduct himself
with regard to his penitent, and what are the signs whereby
we may ascertain whether this be a state of purgation, and
if it be, whether of sense or of spirit—this is the obscure
night—and whether or not it be the effect of melancholy or
any other imperfection of body or soul. For there are per-
sons who will think, or their confessors for them, that God is
leading them along the road of the obscure night of spiritual
purgation, and yet, perhaps, all is nothing but imperfection
of sense and spirit; and others also who will think they do
not pray when they pray much, and, on the other hand, there
are others who think they pray much when they do not in
reality pray scarcely at all.
There are some—and it is sad to see them—who toil and
labour, wearying themselves, and yet go backwards, because
they make the fruit which is profitable to consist in that
which profits not, but which is rather a hindrance ; and others
who, in rest and quietness, make great advancement. Others
also there are who turn the graces and the gifts of God, given
them for their advancement, into embarrassments and stum-
bling-blocks on this road.
Those who travel on this road will meet with many occa-
sions of joy and sorrow, hope and pain, some of which are
the result of the spirit of perfection, others of imperfections.
I shall endeavour, by God’s help, to speak of all, so that
everyone who shall read my book may, in some degree, see
the road he takes, and that which he ought to take, if he
wishes to ascend to the summit of this mount.
As my book treats of the obscure night in which the soul PROLOGUE.
journeys on to God, let no one be surprised if he finds it ®% Ors
also somewhat obscure. It will be so, certainly, at first, but
as the reader advances he will understand it better, for one How
part of it will throw light on another. If it be read a second “73
time it will become more intelligible, and the doctrine it con-
tains will appear the more certain. But if still there should
be any to whom it shall seem hard, let them ascribe it to my
j ignorance and poor style, for the matter of it is in itself good
and most necessary.
But after all I believe that, if I had written it in a more
perfect manner, many would not appreciate it, because its
; contents are not those moralities and soothing matters which
those spiritual persons run after who desire to draw near to
God in pleasant ways, but a solid and substantial doctrine
suited to all, if they seek to advance to that detachment of
spirit which is here described. My principal object, however,
is not to address myself to all, but only to certain persons of
our holy religion of Mount Carmel, who by the grace of God
are on the pathway of this mount. It is at their request I
have undertaken my task. They, indeed, already detached
from the things of this life, will the better understand this
doctrine of detachment of spirit.
CONDITIONS OF MAKING THE JOURNEY. 7
i -
Pwd
BOOK
as
Perfection
requires ;
I. Purga-
tion of the
flesh.
wm. Purga-
tion of the
spirit.
PAF <G
a ty
4 .
8 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK I.
THE NATURE OF THE OBSCURE NIGHT, THE NECESSITY OF PASSING
THROUGH IT IN ORDER TO ATTAIN TO THE DIVINE UNION: AND
_ SPECIALLY THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF SENSE AND DESIRE, WITH
THE EVILS WHICH THESE INFLICT ON THE SOUL.
CHAPTER I,
Two kinds of this night, corresponding with the division of the soul
into higher and lower.
STANZA I,
In an obscure night,
With anxious love inflamed,
O, happy lot!
Forth unobserved I went,
My house being now at rest.
HIS stanza describes the happy state of the soul at its
departure from all things, from the appetites and im-
perfections of our sensual nature to which all are subject
because of our disobedience to reason. I mean that, in order
to reach perfection, the soul has to pass, ordinarily, through
two kinds of night, which spiritual writers call purgations, or
purifications of the soul, and which I have called night,
because in the one as well as in the other the soul travels,
as it were, by night, in darkness.
The first is the night, or purgation of the sensual part of
the soul, treated of in this first stanza, and described in the
first part of this work. The second is the night of the
spiritual part, of which the second stanza speaks, and which
I shall discuss in the second part of my work, so far as it
NATURE AND CAUSE OF THE OBSCURE NIGHT. 9
& °°
relates to the soul’s activity therein, and in the third and CHAP.
fourth part, so far as it relates to its passive condition in it.
The meaning of the stanza then is, that the soul went Explanation’
forth, led of God, through love of Him only, and with that stanza.
love inflamed, into the obscure night, which is the privation
of, and purgation from, all sensual desires, in all external
things; all the pleasures of the flesh, and all the satisfactions
of the will. This is wrought in this purgation of the will,
and for this reason is it said that the soul departed, its P
house, that is the sensual part, being at rest — all the desires
being at rest and asleep, and the soul asleep to them; for
there is no departing from the pains and vexations of desire
till it be mortified and put to sleep.
The happy lot of the soul, then, is this unobserved de-
parture, when no carnal desire or aught else was able to
detain it. And also in that this departure took place by
night, which is the privation of all desire wrought by God,
as a condition which is as night to the soul. The happy lot of
¢ the soul, then, consists in being led by God into this night
4 from which so great a blessing results, but into which it
4 could not have entered of itself, because no one is able in
; his own strength to empty his heart of all desires, so as to
;
,
i
eater ele eraapR et 3,
draw near unto God. This is the meaning of the stanza.
I now proceed to explain each line of it separately, and to -
discuss the subject of this book.
CHAPTER II.
The nature and cause of the obscure night.
- ‘In an obscure night..— The journey of the soul to the Thres parts
Divine union is called night for three reasons. The first scure night.
is derived from the point from which the soul sets out, {.
2. Faith,
the privation of the desire of all pleasure in all the things * %*
BOOK
ae
Tilustrated
ad =
10 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
of this world, by an entire detachment therefrom. This is
as night for every desire and sense of man, The second,
from the road by which it travels; that is faith, for faith is
obscure, like night, to the intellect. The third, from the goal
to which it tends, God, incomprehensible and infinite, Who
in this life is as night to the soul. We must pass through
these three nights if we are to attain to the Divine union
with God.
They are foreshadowed in Holy Scripture by the three
nights which were to elapse, according to the command of
the angel, between the betrothal and the marriage of the
younger Tobias. ‘When thou shalt take her,’ said the angel,
‘go into the chamber, and for three days keep thyself con-
tinent from her.’* On the first night he was to burn the
liver of the fish in the fire, which is the heart whose affections
are set on the things of this world, and which, if it will
enter on the road that leadeth unto God, must be burned
up, and purified of all created things in the fire of this love.
This purgation drives away the evil spirit who has dominion
over our soul, because of our attachment to those pleasures
which flow from temporal and corporeal things.
‘The second night,’ said the afgel, ‘thou shalt be ad-
mitted into-the- society of the Holy Patriarchs,’ the fathers
of the faith. The soul having passed the first night, which
is the privation of all sensible things, enters immediately
into the second night, alone in pure faith, and by it alone
directed: for faith is not subject to sense.
‘The third night,’ said the angel, ‘thou shalt obtain a
blessing ’— that is, God, Who, in the second night of faith,
communicates Himself so secretly and so intimately to the
soul. This is another night, inasmuch as this communica-
tion is more obscure than the others, as I shall presently
* Tob, vi. 18.
£. oes
we tag
FIRST CAUSE, THE PRIVATION OF THE DESIRE. 11
explain. When this night is over, which is the accomplish-
ment of the communication of God in spirit, ordinarily
effected when the soul is in great darkness, the union with
the bride, which is the Wisdom of God, immediately ensues.
The angel adds also, saying to Tobias, ‘When the third
night is passed, thou shalt take the virgin with the fear of
the Lord.’ This fear is then perfect when it is also the
love of God, and it is made perfect when the soul is by love
transformed in God.
I shall speak of these three causes separately, that they
may be the better understood, first reminding the reader
that the three nights are but one divided into three parts.
The first, which is that of the senses, may be likened to the
commencement of night when material objects begin to be
invisible. The second, of faith, may be compared to mid-
night, which is utter darkness. The third resembles the
close of night, which is God, when the dawn of day is at
hand.
CHAPTER II.
The first cause, the privation of the desire.
Tux privation of all pleasure to the desire in all things is
here called night. For as night is nothing else but
the absence of light, and, consequently, of visible objects,
whereby the faculty of vision remains in darkness unem-
ployed, so the mortification of the desires is as night to
the soul. For when the soul denies itself those pleasures
which outward things furnish to the desire, it is as it were
in darkness, without occupation. As the faculty of vision
is nourished by light and fed by visible objects, and ceases
to be so fed when the light is withdrawn, so the soul by
means of the desire feeds on those things which, correspond-
ing with its powers, give it pleasure; but when the desire
I. The night
of privation.
BOOK
z
12 _ THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
is mortified, it derives no more pleasure from them, and
thus, so far as the desire is concerned, the soul abides in
darkness, without occupation.
This may be illustrated in the case of all the faculties of
the soul. When the soul denies itself the pleasure arising
from all that gratifies the ear, it remains, so far as the
faculty of hearing is concerned, in darkness, without occu-
pation ; and when it denies itself in all that is pleasing to
the eye, it remains in darkness, so far as it relates to the
faculty of sight. The same may be said of the other senses,
so that he who shall deny himself all satisfaction de-
rivable from external objects, mortifying the desire thereof,
may be said to be in a state whicli is as night, and this is
nothing else but an entire detachment from all things.
Philosophers say that the soul is a blank when first in-
fused into the body, without knowledge of any kind
whatever, and incapable of receiving knowledge, in the
course of nature, in any other way than through the senses.
Thus, while in the body, the soul is like a man imprisoned in
darkness, who has no knowledge of what passes without
beyond what he can learn by looking through the window
of his cell, and who if he did not so look could in no other
way learn anything at all, Thus, then, the soul cannot
naturally know anything beyond what reaches it through the
senses, which are the windows of its cell. If, then, the
impressions and communications of sense be neglected and
denied, we may well say that the soul is in darkness and
empty, because according to this opinion there is no other
natural way for knowledge or light to enter in. It is true,
indeed, that we cannot help hearing, seeing, smelling,
tasting, and touching, but this is of no moment, and does
not trouble the soul, when the objects of sense are repelled,
any more than if we neither heard nor saw; for he who shuts
his eyes is as much in darkness as a blind man who cannot
PASSAGE THROUGH THE NIGHT OF PRIVATION. 13
see. This is the meaning of the Psalmist when he said, cmap,
‘I am poor and in labours from my youth.* He says —
that he is poor, though it is certain he was rich ; because he
had not set his mind upon riches, he was really like a poor
man. Butif he had been really poor, yet not in spirit, he
would not have been truly poor, for his soul would have been
rich, full of desires.
I call this detachment the night of the soul, for I am not Detachment
may ac-
speaking here of the absence of things—for absence is not compete
detachment, if the desire of them remain—but of that detach-
ment which consists in suppressing desire, and avoiding
a
a at wet
* a Ot Ree Retire
pleasure ; it is this that sets the soul free, even though pos-
session may be still retained. The things of this world
neither occupy nor injure the soul, because they do not cntoe
within, but rather the will and desire of them which abide
within it. This is the night of the sensual part of the soul.
And now I proceed to explain how the soul is to depart from
its house in the obscure night of sense, in order to be united
with God. «
es,
CHAPTER IV.
The necessity of passing truly through the obscure night of sense,
which is the mortification of the desire.
Tue soul must of necessity—if we would attain to the Thesow
Divine union of God—pass through the obscure night of *e masters,
mortification of the desires, and self-denial in all things.
The reason is that all the love we bestow on creatures is
in the eyes of God mere darkness, and that while we are
involved therein, the soul is incapable of being enlightened
and possessed by the pure and simple light of God, unless
we first cast it away. Light hath no fellowship with dark-
Ce tas <
* Psal. Ixxxvii. 16.
BOOK
I
14 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
ness, for as St. John saith, ‘The light shineth in darkness,
——— and the darkness did not comprehend it.’* Two contrary
The creature
is nothing
in compa-
rison with
the Creator.
qualities, as the philosophers say, cannot co-exist in the same
subject. Darkness, which is the love of creatures, and light,
which is God, are contrary to one another, for ‘ What fellow-
ship hath light with darkness?’t The light of the Divine
~ union cannot, therefore, dwell in the soul if these affections
are not cast away.
The affection and attachment which the soul feels for
the creature renders the soul its equal and its like, and the
greater the affection the greater will be the likeness. Love
begets a likeness between the lover and the object of his love,
and so the Psalmist, speaking of those who set their heart
upon idols, says, ‘Let them that make them become like
unto them, and all such as trust in them.’{. Thus, he then
who loves the creature becomes vile as that creature itself,
and in one sense even viler, for love not only levels, but
subjects also the lover to the object of his love.
He, therefore, who loveth anything beside God renders his
soul incapable of the Divine union and transformation in God,
for the vileness of the creature is much less capable of the
dignity of the Creator than darkness is of light. All things
in heaven and earth are nothing in comparison with God.
‘I beheld the earth,’ saith he, ‘and lo, it was void and
nothing, and the heavens, and there was no light in them.’ §
The earth ‘ void and nothing,’ signifies that the earth and
all it contains are nothing, and the heavens without light,
that all the lights of heaven, in comparison with God, are
perfect darkness. Thus all created things, with the affec-
tions bestowed upon them, are nothing, because they are a
hindrance, and the privation of our transformation in God,
just as darkness is nothing, and less than nothing, being the
* §. John i. 5. ft 2 Cor. vi. 14,
t Ps. exiii. 8. § Jerem. iv, 23.
GOD THE FIRST FAIR AND THE HIGHEST GOOD. 15
absence of light. And as he who is in darkness comprehends cmap.
not the light, so the soul whose affections are given to the
creature shall never comprehend God. Until our soul is
purged of these affections we shall not possess God in this
life in the pure transformation of love, nor in the life to come
in the beatific vision. To make this more clear I shall enter
into some particulars. |
The whole creation, compared with the infinite Being of God aloneis;
God, is nothing; and so the soul whose affections are set on 1 Bene
created things is nothing, and even less than nothing before
God, because love begets equality and likeness, and even in-
feriority to the object beloved. Such a soul, therefore, cannot
by any possibility be united to the infinite Being of God,
because that which is not can have no communion with that
which is. All the beauty of the creation, in comparison with 2 Beauty.
the infinite Beauty of God, is supreme deformity, for ‘ Favour
is deceitful and beauty is vain,* and so the soul whose -
affections are set on the beauty of any created thing whatever
' shows before God nothing but deformity, and can never be
transformed in Beauty, which is God, because deformity can
not attain unto beauty. All the grace and comeliness of
creation, compared with the Grace of God, is supreme disgrace
and supreme disfavour, and that soul, therefore, which is cap-
tivated by the grace and comeliness of created things is in
the eyes of God in disfavour and disgrace, incapable of the
infinite grace and beauty, for that which is ill-favoured is far
removed from that which is infinitely gracious.
All the goodness of the whole world together, in compari- 3- Goodness.
son with the infinite Goodness of God, is wickedness rather
than goodness, for ‘ None is good but God alone,’t and that
soul is, therefore, wicked before God, whose affections are set
on the things of this world. And as wickedness can have no
* Proy. xxxi. 30. + S-.Luke xviii. 19. >
16 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
nook fellowship with goodness, so that soul cannot be united in
perfect union with God, who is the supreme Goodness.
4. Wisdom, All the wisdom of the world, and all human cunning, com-
pared with the infinite Wisdom of God, is simple and supreme
ignorance, ‘for the wisdom~of this world is foolishness with
God.’* He, therefore, who shall labour to attain to union
with the Wisdom of God, in reliance on his own wisdom and
skill, is supremely ignorant, and infinitely distant therefrom :
for ignorance knoweth not what wisdom is. They who con-
sider themselves gifted with knowledge are in the eyes of
God most ignorant, ‘professing themselves to be wise, they
become fools.’f They alone attain to the Divine Wisdom who,
like children and ignorant ones, lay“aside their own wisdom,
and serve God in love. This is the wisdom to which the
Apostle refers, saying, ‘ Let no man deceive himself; if any
man among you seem to be wise in this world, let him be-
come a fool that he may be wise. For the wisdom of this
world is foolishness with God.’t Ignorance, therefore, and
not knowledge, becomes that soul which strives after union
with the Wisdom of God.
Raheny All the liberty and power of the world, compared with the
Power and Liberty of the Spirit of God, is but supreme slavery,
wretchedness, and captivity ; and so he who loves superiority
and dignities, and the indulgence of his desires, stands before
God, not as a son who is free, but as a person of mean con-
dition, the slave of his passions, because he submits not to
the holy teaching, which saith, ‘ He that is the greater among
you, let him become as the younger.” § Such an one will never
attain to the true liberty of spirit attainable in the Divine
union, because slavery has no fellowship with liberty, liberty
dwelleth not in a heart subject to desires, for that heart is in
captivity, but in that which is free, the heart of a son. It
* 1 Cor. iii. 19. + Rom. i, 22.
} 1 Cor, iii. 18, 19. § S. Luke xxii. 26.
GOD THE ONLY TRUE FREEDOM, WEALTH AND WISDOM. 17
was for this reason that Sara said unto Abraham: ‘Cast
out this bond-woman and her son, for the son of the bond-
woman shall not be heir with my son Isaac.’ *
All the sweetness and all the pleasures which all the
things of this world furnish to the will are, in comparison
with the sweetness and pleasure which is God, supreme pain,
torment, and bitterness. He, therefore, who shall set his
heart upon them is, in the eyes of God, worthy of pain,
torment, and bitterness, and can never attain to those delights
with which the Divine union abounds.
All the riches and glory of the whole creation compared
with the true riches, which is God, is supreme poverty and
meanness, and he who sets his heart upon them is, in God’s
sight, supremely poor and mean, and can never attain to
the blessed estate of riches and glory, which is the transfor-
mation of the soul in God; for that which is mean and poor
is infinitely distant from that which is supremely rich and
glorious.
For this cause, then, the Divine Wisdom bewails men;
namely, because they make themselves loathsome, mean,
wretched and poor, through their love for that which is
beautiful, rich, and noble in the eyes of the world. ‘O ye
men, to you I call, and my voice is to the sons of men. O
little ones, understand subtlety, and ye unwise take notice.
Hear, for I will speak of great things. .. . With me are riches
and glory, glorious riches and justice. For my fruit is better
than gold and the precious stone, and my blossoms than
choice silver. I walk in the way of justice, in the midst of
the paths of judgment, that I may enrich them that love me,
and may fill their treasures. t Here God addresses Himself
to those who set their affections on the things of this world;
He calls them little ones, because they make themselves
* Gen. xxi. 10, t Prov. viii. 4-6, 18-21,
VOL. I. Cc
CHAP.
IV.
6. Happiness.
7. Riches and
honour.
BOOK
x
8. Augustine.
18 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
little, like the object of their love. He bids them ‘ under-
stand subtlety,’ and ‘take notice,’ because He is speaking of
great things, and not of little things, such as they are. He
tells them that great riches and glory, objects of their love,
are with Him and in Him, and not where they think they
shall find them. ‘Glorious riches and justice’ are with wis-
dom. For though the things of this world may seem to
men to be something, yet let them take notice, the things of
God are more. The fruit of wisdom is better than gold and
precious stones, and that which wisdom produces in the soul
is preferable to the choice silver which men covet. This is
applicable to every kind of affection to which we are liable
in this life.
CHAPTER V.
Continuation of the same subject. Proofs from Scripture.
I HAVE now explained how great is the distance between:
created things and God, and how souls which set their
affections thereon are equally distant from Him, because —
as I have said —love begets equality and likeness. This
was well understood by S. Augustine when, considering his
own inclination towards the creature, he thus spoke unto
God: ‘Miserable man that I am, what fellowship hath my
perverseness with Thy -uprightness? Thou art truly good,
I wicked ; Thou full of compassion, I impious; Thou holy, I
miserable; Thou just, I unjust ; Thou art light, Iam blind;
Thou art life, and lam dead; Thou art medicine, I am sick ;
Thou supreme truth, and I utter vanity.’ *
It is, therefore, supreme ignorance for any one to think
that he can ever attain to the high estate of union with
* Solilog. c. ii. Opp. Ed, Ben. tom, vi. App. p. 86.
‘
‘Nel 4
THE EVANGELICAL LAW OF RENUNCIATION. 19
God before he casts away from him the desire of natural
things, and of supernatural also, so far as it concerns self-
love, because the distance between them and the state of per-
fection is the very greatest. For Christ our Lord hath said,
‘Every one of you that doth not renounce all that he pos-
sesseth, cannot be My disciple.’ * The doctrine of Christ
which He came into the world to teach, is contempt of all
things, that we may thereby have power to receive the
reward of the Spirit of God. For he who does not withdraw
himself from the things of the world, is not qualified to
receive the Spirit of God in the pure transformation.
This truth is foreshadowed in the book of Exodus,t where
we read that God did not give the manna to the people of Israel
till the corn they had brought from Egypt had failed them,
for the bread of angels is not given to, neither is it meant
for, that palate which is pleased with the bread of man. He
who feeds on strange meats, and is delighted therewith, not
only disqualifies himself for the reception of the Holy Ghost,
but also provokes God to anger exceedingly, as all do who,
while they seek spiritual food, are not content with God only,
but intermingle therewith carnal and earthly satisfactions.
This appears from the same history, where it is said that the
people cried, ‘Who will give us flesh to eat?’{ They were
not satisfied with food so pure, for they desired and demanded
the flesh of beasts. God was grievously offended because
they would mingle flesh, so vile and coarse, with the pure
and heavenly bread which, though always the same, had in it
‘the sweetness of every taste,’ § for while ‘their meat was in
their mouth the wrath of God came upon them, and He slew
the fat ones amongst them, and brought down the chosen
men of Israel.’| God regarded it as an evil wish to desire
other food when He was giving them the bread of heaven.
* §, Luke, xiv. 33. ¢ Ex. xvi. 4. t Num. xi. 4.
§ Wisd. xvi. 20, | Ps. xxvii. 30, 31.
. c 2
CHAP.
¥:
The manna
a type of
God.
BOOK
i.
20 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Oh, would that spiritual persons knew how they are losing
————— the good things of the Spirit, abundantly furnished, because
Mount Sinai
a type of
- perfection.
they will not raise up their desires above trifles, and how they
might have the sweetness of all things in the pure food of the
Spirit if they would only forego them. But as they will not,
so they shall not have such sweetness. The people of Israel
perceived not the sweetness of every taste in the manna,
though it was there, because they would not limit their
desires to it alone. The sweetness and strength of the manna
was not for them, not because it was not there, but because
they longed for other meats beside it. He who loves any
other thing with God makes light of Him, because he puts
into the balance with Him that which is infinitely beneath
Him. We know by experience that the will, when set on a
particular object, magnifies it above all others, if it has no ~
pleasure in them, though they may be of greater importance
than what it desires. And if it should desire two things
together, it does wrong to the chief of the two, because it es-
tablishes an unjust equality between them. There is nothing
in the whole world to be compared with God; and, therefore,
he who loves anything together with Him, wrongs Him.
And if this be true, what does he do who loves anything more
than God ?
This truth is set before us in the book of Exodus. When
God commanded Moses to go up into Mount Sinai, He bade
him go up alone; the children of Israel were to remain
below, and even the cattle were not to feed in sight of the
mountain. ‘Thou shalt stand with Me on the top of the
mount. Let no man go up with thee, and let not any man be
seen throughout all the mount: neither let the oxen nor the
sheep feed over against it’* He, therefore, that will go up
into the mount of perfection and hold communion with God,
* Ex. xxxiy. 2, 3.
oo By
UNION WITH GOD REQUIRES SEPARATION FROM CREATURES, 21
must not only abandon everything, but restrain even his
desires, the sheep and the cattle from feeding in sight of the
mount—that is, upon anything which is not simply God, in
Whom, in the estate of perfection, every desire must cease.
This journey or ascent must therefore be a perpetual struggle
_ with our desires to make them cease, and the more earnest
we are the sooner shall we reach the summit. But until the
desires cease we can never reach it, notwithstanding our many
virtues, for virtue is not perfectly acquired before our souls
are empty, detached, and purified from all desire.
Of this truth we have a lively figure in the history of the
patriarch Jacob. When he was on his way to Bethel to build
an altar for sacrifice unto God, he commanded his household
the observance of three things: the casting away of strange
gods, self-purification, and the changing of their garments.
‘Jacob having called together all his household, said, Cast
away the strange gods that are among you, and be cleansed
and change your garments.’* He, therefore, who will ascend
to the mount of perfection, to build an altar there, whereon
to offer unto God the sacrifice of pure love, praise, and adora-
tion, must first of all perfectly fulfil the three commandments
of Jacob. He must cast away the strange gods, the earthly
affections and attachments. He must purify himself from
the impressions which the desires have made on the soul, in
the obscure night of sense, denying them and doing penance
for their past indulgence, and, in the third place, he must
change his garments. This God himself will do during the
observance of the first two commandments; He will change
them from old into new, by infusing into the soul a new un-
derstanding of God in God, the human understanding being
set aside, and a new love of God in God, the will being
detached from its old desires and human satisfactions, by
* Gen. xxxy. 2.
CHAP.
Three com-
mandments
of Jacob :
1. Renun-
ciation.
2. Purifi-
cation.
3. Change of
heart.
Look
I
22 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
bringing the soul into a state of new knowledge nd of deep
——— delight, all other knowledge and old imaginings being cast
The altar of
God to be .
pure,
The royal
road of the
Holy Cross,
away ; and, finally, by causing that which is of the old man to
cease, which is our natural aptitudes, and investing us with a
new supernatural aptitude corresponding with the powers of
the soul, so that all that is human in the action of the soul
may become divine. This is the object gained in the estate
of union, in which the soul is nothing else but an altar of God
whereon the sacrifice of praise and love is offered, and where
He alone dwells.
This is the reason why, under the old law, the altar of
sacrifice was to be hollow within. ‘Thou shalt not make it
solid, but empty and hollow in the inside.’* It is the will
of God that the soul should be empty of all created things,
so that it may become a fitting altar of His Majesty. He
would not endure strange fires on the altar, nor that His own
should fail. ‘Nadab and Abiu, the sons of Aaron, taking
their censers, put fire therein, and incense on it, offering
before the Lord strange fire: which was not commanded
them, and fire coming out from the Lord destroyed them,
and they died before the Lord.’t Because Nadab and Abiu,
sons of Aaron the high priest, offered strange fire on the
altar, God in His anger slew them before it. That soul,
therefore, which would become a fitting altar, must not be
without the love of God, nor mingle therewith any other and
strange love. God will never dwell there where aught is
present beside Himself. Thus, when the Philistines took the
ark of God and brought it into the temple of Dagon, their
idol was thrown to the ground, and at last broken to pieces.t
One desire only doth God allow, and suffer} in His presence,
that of perfectly observing His law, and of carrying the cross
of Christ. We do not know that He commanded anything
* Ex. xxvii. 8. + Levit. x. 1, 2. t 1 Kings v. 1-5,
~
eyez
ep
<M Ae he aed
TWO GREAT EVILS OF THE DESIRES. 23
except the book of the law, to be laid up with the ark where
the manna was preserved.—‘ Take this book, and put it in
the side of the ark of the covenant of the Lord your God’*—
and the rod of Aaron, type of the cross. ‘ Take back the rod
of Aaron into the tabernacle of the testimony.’+ That soul
which has no other aim than the perfect observance of the
law of God, and the carrying of the cross of Christ, will be
a true ark containing the true manna, which is God.
CHAPTER VI.
Two great evils of the desires: negative and positive. Proofs
from Scripture.
To make this matter clear, it is advisable here to explain
how the desires inflict these two great evils on the soul.
These evils are, the privation of the Spirit of God, and the
fatigue, torture, darkness, defilement, and weakness of that
soul which indulges them. ‘My people have done two
evils, saith God, ‘They have forsaken Me, the fountain of
living water, and have digged to themselves cisterns, broken
cisterns, that can hold no water.’ { These two evils flow from
one single act of desire; for it is clear that the instant we
- set our affections upon any one created thing, our capacity
for union with God is diminished in proportion to the in-
tensity of that act of affection. For, as I said before,§ two
contrary qualities cannot coexist in the same subject; the
love of God and the love of the creature are contrary, the
one to the other, and so cannot dwell together in the same
heart. What connection is there between the creature and
the Creator? Between the sensual and the spiritual? The
seen and the unseen? The temporal and the eternal ?
* Deut. xxxi. 26; Ex. xvi. 33. + Numb. xvii. 10.
t Jerem, ii, 13, § Ch. IV,
CHAP.
V.
I. Privation
of God.
24 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK Between the heavenly food, pure and spiritual, and the food
of the flesh, simply sensual? Between the poverty of Christ
and selfish attachments? As in natural generation, no new
form results without the corruption of the one previously
> existing—for this obstructs the former by reason of the
contrariety between them — so while our souls are under the
dominion of the sensual and animal spirit, the pure and
heavenly spirit can never enter within them.
aa wend not This explains those words of our Lord, ‘ It is not good to
the « ent take the bread of children, and to cast it to the dogs;’*
and ‘Give not that which is holy to dogs. t Our Lord
compares those who, renouncing all earthly desires, prepare
K themselves in simplicity for the graces of the Holy Ghost,
with children, and those who satisfy their desires in earthly
things, with dogs: children are admitted to the Father’s
table, and nourished by the Spirit, but only the crumbs
which fall from it are given to the dogs. All created things
are but the crumbs which fall from the table of God.
Thus they who go about feeding on the creature are rightly
called dogs; the children’s bread is withheld from such,
because they will not rise from the crumbs of the creature
to the table of the uncreated Spirit of their Father. These
are always hungry like dogs, and justly so, because crumbs
excite the appetite rather than appease hunger. These are
they of whom it is written, ‘They shall suffer hunger like
dogs; and shall go round about the city—and shall murmur
if they be not filled.’ They who gratify their desires are
always morose and discontented, like hungry persons: for
what is there in common between the hunger which the
creature occasions, and the fulness which proceeds from the
Spirit of God? The fulness of God cannot enter into the
soul before we drive away the hunger of desire, for two
contrary qualities, such as hunger and fulness, cannot dwell
* S. Matt. xv. 26. + Ib. vii. 6. t Ps. lili. 15, 16.
_ Few
THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS IS HARD. 25
together in the same subject. We may see from this how
much greater is the work of God in purifying the soul from
these contrarieties, than it was when He first created it
out of nothing. For these rebellious desires and opposing
affections seem to resist God more than nothing: that which
is not, cannot resist His Majesty, but not so the love of the
creature. Let this suffice for the first great evil which
~ desires inflict on the soul, namely, resistance to the Spirit of
x
‘
God.
Let us now proceed to the second, which is manifold
in its operations. The desires fatigue, torment, darken,
defile and weaken the soul. Of these five forms of evil,
I shall discuss each separately. As to the first, it is evident
that the desires weary the soul, because they resemble little
children, restless and dissatisfied, who always begging of their
mother, now one thing, now another, are never content. As
one given to covetousness fatigues himself digging for gold,
so the soul wearies itself in the pursuit of those things which
the desires demand, and though we may obtain them, yet
the end is weariness, because we are never satisfied. We
have recourse to broken cisterns, which can hold no water to
- quench our thirst, as it is written, ‘ Faint with thirst and his
soul is empty.’* The soul which yields to its desires, is
weary and faint, like one ill of'a burning fever, never at rest,
and whose thirst increases while the fever lasts. It is written
in the book of Job, ‘When he shall be filled, he shall be
straitened, he shall burn, and every sorrow shall fall upon
him.’ Thus is it with the soul, wearied and afflicted by
the desires: they wound it, agitate and disturb it, as wind
does water, harassing it, so that it can never repose on any-
thing, or in any place.
Of such souls is it written, ‘The wicked are like the
f)
Il. Five
wounds of
the soul.
1, Weariness,
<-
nd
* Ts. xxix. 8. 7 7) re t Job xx. 22. * i le ahs re
a nek wt Ge \ A Hoh pie wee ye
se |
é*
BOOK
k es
26 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
raging sea which cannot rest.’* The heart of the wicked is
- like the raging sea, and he is wicked who does not subdue
his desires. That soul which seeks to satisfy them wearies
and torments itself, and is like one who, in the pains of
hunger, opens his mouth to be filled with the wind, and who,
instead of being satisfied therewith, becomes still more
hungry, for wind is not his meat and drink. Of such it is
written, ‘In the desire of his heart, he snuffed up the wind
of his love,’}+ and again warning the soul against the in-
creasing dryness towards which it tends: ‘ Keep thy foot,’
that is thy thoughts, ‘from being bare, and thy throat from
thirst,’ {—that is, thy will from the gratification of the desire
which is the occasion of greater dryness. As the ambitious
man is wearied in the day of disappointed expectations, so
the soul with its desires and their fulfilment, for they make
it more empty and hungry than it was before. The desires
are, as it is commonly said, like fire which burns when sup-
plied with fuel, but which, when the fuel is consumed, im-
mediately dies away. In truth, the desire is in a much
worse condition : the fire is quenched when the fuel fails, but
the desire ceases not with the matter on which it fed while
it raged, even though that be utterly consumed ; for instead
of ceasing, like fire when the fuel is burnt out, the desire
pines away in weariness, for hunger is increased, and food
diminished.
A soul in this condition is thus described by the prophet,
‘He shall turn to the right hand, and shall be hungry, and
shall eat on the left hand, and shall not be filled.§ They
who mortify not their desires are justly punished with hunger
when they ‘turn to the right hand,’ that is, when they swerve
from the way of God; for they do not deserve the fulness of
* Ts. lvii. 20. + Jerem. ii, 24,
$ Jerem. ii. 25, § Is. ix. 20.
a ~
eh en
THE TORMENT OF UNRESTRAINED DESIRES. 27
His sweet Spirit, and justly also shall they ‘not be filled,’
when they ‘eat on the left hand,’ that is, when they satisfy
their desire with created things; for then abandoning that
which can alone satisfy them they feed on that which is the
source of greater hunger. Thus, then, is it clear that the
desires weary and fatigue the soul.
CHAPTER VII.
The desires torment the soul. Proofs and illustrations.
, Tum second positive evil which the desires inflict is a certain
torment and affliction of soul, so that he who suffers there-
from is like one in torture, bound with chains, finding no rest
until released. ‘The cords of my sins,’ that is, my desires,
saith the Psalmist, ‘have encompassed me.”* As a man who
lies naked amid thorns and briars, so is the soul in the
_ power of its desires; for they pierce, torture, and tear it pain-
fully, as it is written, ‘They surrounded me like bees, and
they burned like fire among thorns.’t ~ The desires, which
are as thorns, increase the fire of affliction and trouble.
As the husbandman, greedy of the harvest, goads the oxen
at the plough, so concupiscence goads the soul harnessed
to its desires, till it shall obtain its will. Such was the
desire of Dalila to know the secret of the strength of
Samson; she ‘pressed him—giving him no time to rest,’
so that ‘his soul fainted away, and was wearied even unto
death.’t
The desire tortures the soul in proportion to its inten-
sity, so that the pain equals the desires, and the more
numerous the desires the greater the pain: for the words
which the apostle heard are fulfilled even in this life.
* Ps. exyiii. 61, T . exvii. 12, { Judg. xvi. 16.
2. Torment.
BOOK
I.
Example of
Samson.
Invitation of
God.
28 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
‘As much as she hath glorified herself, and lived in deli-
cacies, so much torment and sorrow give ye to her.”*
As he is tormented who falls into the hands of his enemies,
so is the soul carried away by its desires. This truth is
foreshadowed in the history of Samson, who was once so
strong and free, the judge of Israel. But when he had
fallen into the hands of his enemies, they robbed him of
his great strength, plucked out his eyes, imprisoned him
in a mill, and ‘made him grind,’ torturing and afflicting
him. So is it with the soul, whose enemies, its own de-
sires, live and triumph: their first act is to weaken and
blind the soul, then to torment it, imprisoning it in the mill
of concupiscence, and the cords that bind it are its own®
desires themselves.
God, therefore, compassionating those who, with so much
toil and cost, go about to satisfy the hunger and thirst of
their desires in created things, thus speaks to them by
the mouth of His prophet: ‘All you that thirst’ and
desire ‘come to the waters, and you that have no money,’
self-will, ‘make haste, buy and eat, come, buy wine and
milk,’ peace and spiritual sweetness, ‘without money’ of
self-will, and ‘without price,’ without that labour which
your desires demand. ‘Why do you spend money’ of self-
will ‘ for that which is not bread,’ that is, the Spirit of -God,
and the ‘labour’ of your desires ‘for that which doth
not satisfy you?’ *¢ Hearken diligently unto Me and eat that
which is good,’ and which you desire, ‘and your soul
shall be delighted in fatness.’f We attain to this fatness
when we abandon all created satisfactions, for pain and sor-
row flow from the creature, and refreshment from the Spirit
of God.
‘Come to Me,’ saith our Lord, ‘all you that labour and
* Apoc, xviii. 7. T Is. lv. 1, 2.
me
SIN DARKENS AND BLINDS THE SOUL. | 29
are burdened, and I will refresh you.* All you who are
tormented and afflicted, labouring beneath the burden of
anxiety and desire, cast it aside, by coming unto Me, and
I will refresh you; and your souls shall find that rest of
which your desires rob you, for they ‘as a heavy burden
are become heavy upon Me.’f
CHAPTER VIII.
The desires darken the soul. Proofs and illustrations.
Tue third evil which the desires inflict is darkness and
blindness of soul. For as vapours darken the air, and
hide the light of the sun, or as a stained mirror cannot
clearly receive an image, or as muddy water cannot dis-
tinctly reflect his face who looks into it, so the soul, stained
by its desires, is intellectually blind, so that neither the un-
derstanding itself nor the sun of natural reason, nor that of
the supernatural wisdom of God, can inform and enlighten
it. To this the Psalmist referred when he said, ‘My
iniquities have overtaken me, and I was not able to
see.${ And thus, while the soul is intellectually blind,
the will becomes torpid, the memory fails, and every lawful
function is disordered. These faculties depend on the intel-
CHAP.
VI.
8. Darkness.
t -
x peppy
Lb Lomeitety
lect, and it is therefore clear that, when the intellect is em-.
barrassed, they must all be thrown into confusion and disorder.
‘ My soul,’ saith the Psalmist, ‘is troubled exceedingly,’ § that
is, all my faculties are in disorder; for, as I have said, the
intellect in this state cannot receive the illumination of the
Divine Wisdom, just as the obscured air cannot reflect the
brightness of the sun. The will cannot embrace God in pure
love, just as the stained mirror cannot represent an object
* S. Matt. xi. 28, + Ps. xxxvii. 5.
} Ps, xxxix. 13. § Ib. vi. 4.
BOOK
I.
Reason and
not desire
the guide of
man
30 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
placed before it. The memory overclouded by desires cannot
calmly dwell on the Image of God, just as muddy water can-
not reflect the face of him who looks into it.
The desire also blinds and darkens the soul, for the desire,
as such, is blind and unreasonable, and reason is that which
ever guides the soul aright in its several acts. Hence it is
that the soul becomes blind whenever the desires guide it,
because it is as if one who saw were led by one who saw
not: the result being the same as if both were blind. This is
what our Lord referred to when He said, ‘ If the blind lead
the blind, both fall into the pit.’* Eyes are of little service
to the moth, whose desire for the beauty of the light leads
it dazzled into the midst of the flame. He who gives the
rein to his desires may be likened to the fish dazzled by the
light which the fishermen throw over the water, that the
nets may not be seen: in this case, light serves but to in-
crease the obscurity.
This is the meaning of the Psalmist when he said, ‘ Fire
hath fallen upon them, and they have not seen the sun,’
for the desire is like fire, warming with its heat, and dazzling
with its light, and the effect of the desire in the soul is, that
it enkindles concupiscence, and dazzles the intellect, so that
it cannot see. The cause of this dazzling obscurity is, the
interposition of another light between the object and the
eye, whereon the eye rests, so as to see nothing beyond.
Thus the desire comes so close to the soul, and within the
range of its vision, that we are dazzled, and satisfied with
the light it gives, and so it hides from us the clear light of
the intellect, which we do not, and never shall see, until
the glare of the desire shall have ceased.
This renders so deplorable their case who burden them-
selves with indiscreet penances, and other imprudent methods
* S. Matt. xv. 14. T Ps. lvii. 9.
- SELF-RESTRAINT NECESSARY FOR PERFECTION. 31
of devotion—voluntary certainly—on which they rely, thinking
such alone, without mortifying their desires in other matters,
to be sufficient to lead them on to the union of the Divine
‘Wisdom. But this can never be, if the desires be not dili-
gently mortified. If these persons bestowed but half their
labour on this, they would make greater progress in a month
than they can now make in many years, if they persevere in
their present ways. As it is necessary to till the earth that
it may bring forth fruit—for otherwise nothing will grow
therein but weeds—so also is it necessary to mortify our
desires, if we are to make progress towards perfection.
Without mortification, I say it boldly, we shall make no
progress whatever in the knowledge of God and of ourselves,
notwithstanding all our efforts, any more than the seed will
grow which is thrown away on uncultivated ground. Neither
_ can the darkness and ignorance of our souls be removed, if
the desires are not extinguished: for they are like a mote or
cataract in the natural eye, obstructing the vision, until it
be taken away.
The Psalmist, considering the blindness of those souls
which are under the power of their desires, the impossibility
of their clearly beholding the truth, and the greatness of
God’s anger with them, said, ‘ Before your thorns could know
the briar, He swalloweth them up, as alive, in His wrath.’ *
Before your thorns, your desires, harden and grow into a
thicket, shutting out the sight of God, as the thread of life
is frequently broken in the midst thereof, so will God swallow
them up in His anger. Those persons in whom their desires
live, and hinder the knowledge of God, God will swallow up
in His wrath, eitherin the next life, in the purifying pains of
Purgatory, or in this, in afflictions and sufferings, sent to
detach them from their desires, or in the mortification of
* Ps, lvii. 10,
CHAP.
VII.
Inward mor-
tification
more neces-
sary than
outward,
(Ute
Necessity,
and design of
suffering.
BOOK
I.
Example of
Solomon,
32 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
those very desires voluntarily undergone. God doeth this to
take away the false light of desire between Himself and us,
which dazzles us, and hinders us from knowing Him; and
that, the intellect becoming clear, the ravage of desire may
- be repaired.
Oh that men knew how great a blessing, that of the
Divine Light, this their blindness, the result of their desires,
robs them of, and how great the evils they daily fall into,
because they do not mortify them. We are not to rely on a
clear intellect, or on the gifts received from God, and then
imagine that any affections or desires we may indulge in
will not blind us, nor cause us to fall into a worse state, little
by little. Who would have thought that a man of perfect
wisdom, filled with the gifts of God, as Solomon was, could
have fallen away in his old age into such blindness and
torpor of the will, as to build altars to idols and worship
them? His affection for his wives, and his negligence in
controlling his desires and the satisfactions of his heart,
were alone sufficient to reduce him to this. So he tells us
himself, saying, ‘Whatsoever my eyes desired, I refused
them not, and I withheld not my heart from enjoying every
pleasure.’ * Such was the effect upon Solomon of unbridled
desires, and their gratification, though at first he was
- cautious; they soon blinded his understanding, and at last
put out the light of wisdom within him, so that in his old
age he forsook God. And if unmortified desires could produce
such a disaster in the case of Solomon, who knew so well the
difference between good and evil, what shall they not produce
in us who are so ignorant? Weare like the people of Ninive,
of whom God said, ‘They know not how to distinguish
between their right hand and their left,’ since, at every
step, we take good for evil, and evil for good; and this is as
* Eccles. ii, 10. t+ Jon. iv. 11.
UNRULY DESIRES 3 POLLUTE THE SOUL. 33
it were natural to us. What, then, must it be when our
desires are added to our natural blindness, but that which
the prophet bewailed, speaking of those who love to follow
after their desires: ‘ We have groped for the wall, and like
the blind, we have groped as if we had no eyes, we have
stumbled at noon as if in darkness.’* Such is he who is
blinded by his desires, for in the presence of the truth and
his real interests he cannot see them any more than if he
had been utterly blind.
CHAPTER IX.
The desires pollute the soul. Proofs from Scripture.
Tue fourth evil which the desires inflict on the soul is that
they pollute and defile it, as it is written, ‘ He that toucheth
pitch shall be defiled with it.’t He, then, toucheth pitch
who satisfies the desires of the will in any created thing.
Observe here that the wise man compareth the creature
with pitch: for there is a greater distance between the
excellence of the soul and the noblest creature than there is
between the glittering diamond or fine gold and pitch. As
a diamond or a piece of gold, if placed, heated, in contact
with pitch becomes foul and stained in proportion to the
heat, so the soul inflamed by the desire it may entertain
for the creature, draws corruption therefrom: and defilement.
And there is a greater difference between the soul and all
other created corporeal things than there is between the
most pellucid water and the foulest mud. So, then, as such
water mingled with mud becomes foul, so the soul whose
affections are set on created things becomes polluted; for
then it resembles them. As soot defiles the most beautiful
face, so the unruly desires of the soul, if indulged in, defile
© Tg) lix.. 10. t Eccles. xiii. 1.
VOL. I. D
CHAP.
Vill.
4. Defile-
ment.
- BOOK
naa
Man nobler
than the
universe.
Corruptio
optimi pes-
sima,
———————— lO eS | Oe
34 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
=
and pollute that soul, which is in itself the most beautiful
and perfect image of God.
The prophet Jeremias, bewailing the ravages of corruption
produced by these unruly desires, first of all describes the
beauty of the soul and then its defilement: ‘ Her Nazarites
were whiter than snow, purer than milk, more ruddy than
the old ivory, fairer than the sapphire; their face is now
made blacker than coals, and they are not known in the
streets.’* The hair of the Nazarites signify the thoughts
and affections of the soul, which, ordered according to the
law of God, that is referred all to Him, are.‘ whiter than
snow, purer than milk, more ruddy than the old ivory,
fairer than the sapphire.’ The whole physical creation in all
its beauty and magnificence is signified by these four things,
and higher than all is the soul of man and its operations —
that is, the Nazarites with their long hair—which, when
ordered, not according to the commandments of God, that
is, when occupied with created things, is now made blacker
than coals. All this and far greater ruin befalls the soul’s
beauty from the indulgence of unruly desires.
So, then, if my object were to describe the foul and cor-
rupt condition to which the desires reduce the soul, I should
not be able to find anything so full of cobwebs and worms,
not even corruption itself, wherewith to compare it. For
though the disordered soul in its natural substance be as
perfect as God has made it, its reasonable substance is foul,
filthy, and dark, overladen with all these evils and even
more. Even one unruly desire—as I shall hereafter explain—
though not a mortal sin, sullies and deforms the soul, and
indisposes it for the perfect union with God, until it be cast
away. What, then, must be the corruption of that soul
which is wholly disordered, which has abandoned itself to
* Lam. iy. 7, 8.
—_— = ae
GO
THE DEFORMITY OF SIN. 35
the sway of its desires, and how far removed from the
purity of God! No language can describe, no understanding
can comprehend, the diverse impurities which diverse desires
produce in the soul.
If, indeed, any description of this could be given, so that
men might understand it, it would be a matter for wonder
and for great pity: for each desire, according to its nature
- and intensity, deposits the filth and sediment of corruption
and uncleanness in the soul, everyone in its own way. For
as the soul of the just man, in one single perfection, which is
the justice thereof, possesses innumerable most rich gifts, and
many virtues of exceeding beauty, everyone of them lovely,
different from each other according to the multitude and
variety of the acts of the love of God; so the disordered soul
in the same way, according to the multitude of the desires,
the object of which are created things, contracts a miserable
divéjity of vileness and impurity, with which these desires
pollute. it.
These diverse pollutions are described by the prophet
Ezechiel, when God showed him the interior of the temple
with its walls painted round about with the likenesses of
creeping things, and all abominable and unclean beasts: ‘I
went in,’ saith the prophet, ‘and saw, and behold every form
of creeping things, and of living creatures, the abomination
and all the idols of the house of Israel were painted on the
wall round about.’* When the prophet had seen this, God
said to him, ‘Surely thou seest, O son of man, what the
ancients of the house of Israel do in the dark, everyone in
private in his chamber. Turn thee again; thou shalt see
greater abominations.’ The prophet turned, and ‘behold
women sat there mourning for Adonis.’ ‘ Turn thee again,’
said God to the prophet, ‘and thou shalt see greater abomi-
* Ezech. viii. 10.
D2
Love in order
is virtue, or
justice ;
Desire in dis-
order is vice.
Vision of
the prophet
Ezechiel.
BOOK
iv
2. Will.
3. Memory.
Three hin-
drances to
the Divine
Union.
1. Voluntary
imperfec-
tion.
2. Venial sin,
3. Mortal
sin.
36 _ THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
nations than these.’ And then the prophet saw ‘at the door
of the temple of the Lord, between the porch and the altar,
five and twenty men having their backs to the temple of the
-Lord.’*
The various creeping things and unclean beasts painted on
the walls of the temple within are the thoughts and concep-
tions of the intellect derived from the vile things of earth and
of other created things, which, because contrary to those that
are eternal, defile the temple of the soul; and the soul by
means thereof, embarrasses the intellect, which is its first
court. The women in the second court. ‘Mourning for
Adonis’ are the desires of the will, the second faculty of the
soul; these weep, as it were, when they covet that on which
the will is bent, that is, the unclean things painted on the
understanding. The men in the third court are the fancies
and imaginations resulting from created objects which the
third faculty of the soul, the memory, preserves and dwells
on. These had their backs to the temple of the Lord: for
when the faculties of the soul have been completely occupied
with any object of earth, the soul itself may be said to have
turned its back upon God’s temple, which is right reason,
and which tolerates nothing that is in opposition to God.
Let this suffice for the present to give us some insight
into the foul disorder which desires engender in the soul.
For were I to treat separately of the impediment to the
Divine union which these imperfections and their varieties
occasion; of that of venial sin, which is much greater than
that of imperfections, and of its varieties; and also of mortal
sin, which is complete defilement, and of its various forms,
Ishould never come to an end. What I say —and it is to
the purpose — is, that every single desire, though it be but
the slightest imperfection, darkens the soul, and hinders its
perfect union with God.
* Ezech. viii. 14, 16.
- SIN ENSLAVES THE SOUL. 37
CHAPTER X.
X The desires make the soul lukewarm, and enfeeble virtue.
Proofs and illustrations.
Tue fifth evil inflicted on the soul by its desires is lukewarm-
ness and feebleness, so that it has no strength to follow after
virtue nor to persevere therein. As the strength of desire is
diminished when it is applied to many objects, instead of being
concentrated upon one, and the more numerous the objects
embraced, the less is the energy with which each is sought,
so, philosophers say, is it with virtue, which is more vigorous
when united than when it is dispersed. It is, therefore, clear
that if the desire of the will be directed to other objects than
virtue it must be most ineffectual in the pursuit thereof. The
soul whose will is divided among trifles, is like water which
never rises, because it has an outlet below, and is therefore
profitless. Thus it was that the patriarch Jacob compared
Ruben his son to ‘water poured out,’ because he had given
way to his desires in a certain sin: ‘ Thou art poured out as
water, grow thou not;’* that is, because thou art poured out
as water in thy desires thou shalt not grow in virtues. As
boiling water left uncovered quickly loses its heat, and as
aromatic spices exposed to the air gradually lose their fra-
grance and the strength of their perfume, so the soul not
recollected in the love of God alone loses the heat and vigour
of virtue. This truth was well understood by the Psalmist
when he said, ‘I will keep my strength to Thee,’f that is, I
will concentrate the strength of my affections on Thee alone.
The desires enfeeble the soul, for they are like the little
twigs and suckers which grow on a tree, sapping its strength
so that it shall not be so fruitful. Of such souls our Saviour
says: ‘Woe unto them that are with child, and that give
~ * Gen, xlix. 4. + Ps. lviii. 10.
CHAP.
xX.
5. Weakness.
BOOK
as,
The joy of
self-restraint.
38 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
suck in those days.’ * This signifies the desires, which, if not
cut off, will continually lessen the strength of the soul, and
grow to be its ruin, like the suckers on a tree. Our Lord,
therefore, warns us, saying, ‘Let your loins be girt..t The
loins are the desires; they are also like leeches sucking the
blood from the veins, for so the wise man calls them, saying,
‘The horse leech hath two daughters,’ the desires, ‘ that say,
bring, bring.’ t
It is, therefore, evident that the desires bring no good at
all to the soul, but rather deprive it of what it has, and if
we do not mortify them, they will not rest until they have
done what the young vipers are said to do to their mother:
these, as they grow in the womb, devour the entrails of their
mother, and kill her, preserving their own life at the cost of
hers. Thus the unmortified desires grow and devour the
soul, killing the life of God within it. They alone live in
that soul, because that soul has not destroyed them first.
This it is that made the wise man pray: ‘Take from me
the greediness of the belly.’ §
But even if the desires do not issue in this great calamity,
it is lamentable to see how they torture the poor soul in
which they dwell—how hateful to itself they render it, how
profitless to its neighbours, how dull and slothful in the
things of God. There are no corrupt humours which can so
bow down a sick man, enfeeble him in his gait, and make
him loathe his proper food, as the desire of the creature
bows down the soul in sadness, and indisposes it for the
practice of virtue. And, in general, the reason why many
souls have no love or inclination for virtue is, that they
entertain affections and desires which are not innocent nor
directed towards our Lord God.
* S. Matt. xxiv. 19. T S. Luke xii. 35,
} Proy, xxx. 15, § Eccles, xxiii. 6,
es 6 Cee Pee
‘THE FIRST MOVEMENTS OF NATURE INVOLUNTARY. 39
CHAPTER XI.
The necessity of freedom from all desires, however slight, for the
5 Divine union.
Ir seems reasonable here for the reader to ask, whether it be
necessary to mortify completely every desire, small and great,
before perfection can be reached, or whether it will be enough
to have mortified some of them, overlooking others—at least
those which seem of less moment—because it isa matter
most difficult to attain to such pureness and detachment, as
to have no affection for anything remaining in the will.
To this I reply: in the first place, it is true that all the
desires are not equally hurtful, neither do they perplex the
soul in the same degree. I am speaking of those which are
voluntary: for the natural desires, when we do not consent
to them, and when they do not pass beyond the first move-
ments, do but slightly or not at all stand in the way of
union. By natural and first movements I mean all those
in which the natural will had no share, either before or after
they arose: for to banish and mortify these completely is, in
this life, impossible. The hindrance which these create is not
such as to prevent the Divine union, though they may not
be wholly mortified; they may remain in our nature, and
yet the soul in its spiritual part may be most free from
_ them. For it will sometimes happen that the soul enjoys
the profound union of quiet in the will, while these remain
in the sensual portion of man’s nature, but having no com-
munication with the spiritual portion occupied in prayer.
But all the other voluntary desires, whether mortal sins,
which are the most grievous, or of venial sins, which are less
so, or imperfections only, which are still less so, must be.
banished away, and the soul which would attain to perfect
union must be delivered from them all, however slight they
Answer.
1. Involun-
tary natural
desires harm-
less.
2. All unruly
desires not
equally hurt-
ful;
3. Yet all
must be
banished.
40 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Book may be. The reason is this: the estate of Divine union
ec consists in the total transformation of the will into the will
fect unionre- Of God, in such a way that every movement of the will shall
tity ot wil, be always the movement of the will of God only. This is
the reason why, in this state, two wills are said to be one—
my will and God’s will—so that the will of God is also that
of the soul. But if the soul then cleaves to any imper-
fection, contrary to the will of God, His will is not done, for
the soul wills that which God wills not. It is clear, there-
fore, that, if the soul is to be united in love and will with
God, every desire of the will must first of all be cast away,
however slight it may be; that is, we must not deliberately
Knowledge and knowingly assent with the will to any imperfection, and
and consent
necessaryfor we must have such power over it, and such liberty, as to
a moral act.
reject every such desire the moment we are aware of it.
I say knowingly, for without deliberation and a clear per-
ception of what we are doing, or because it is not wholly in
our power, we may easily give way to imperfections and
venial sins, and to those natural desires of which I have just
spoken. It is of such sins as these, not so entirely voluntary,
that it is written: ‘A just man shall fall seven times, and
shall rise again.’ *
But as to those voluntary and perfectly deliberate desires,
how slight soever their objects may be, any one of them, not
One act docs OVETCOME, is sufficient to prevent this union. I am speaking
hit ** of the unmortified habit thereof, because certain acts occa-
sionally have not so much power, for the habit of them is not
settled; still we must get rid of them, for they, too, proceed
from habitual imperfection. Some habits of voluntary im-
perfections, so far as they are never perfectly overcome,
impede not only the Divine union but our progress towards
perfection.
These habitual imperfections are, for instance, much
* Proy, xxiv. 16.
TRIFLES MAY IMPEDE PROGRESS. 41
talking, certain attachments, which we never resolve to
break through—such as to individuals, to a book or a cell, to
a particular food, to certain society, the satisfaction of one’s
taste, science, news, and such things. Everyone of these
imperfections, if the soul is attached and habituated to them,
results in such serious injuries to our growth and progress
in perfection. Yea, even if we fall daily into many other
imperfections greater than these, provided they are not the
result of the habitual indulgence of any evil inclination, we
should not be so much hindered in our spiritual course
as we are by this selfish attachment of the soul to particular
objects; for while the soul entertains it, it is useless to hope
that we can ever attain to perfection, even though the
object of our attachment be but of the slightest importance
possible.
Does it make any difference whether a bird be held by a
slender thread or by a rope, while the bird is bound and
cannot fly till the cord that holds it is broken? It is true
that a slender thread is more easily broken, still, notwith-
standing, if it is not broken the bird cannot fly. This is the
state of a soul with particular attachments: it never can
attain to the liberty of the Divine union, whatever virtues
it may possess. Desires and attachments affect the ‘soul
as the remora is said to affect a ship; that is but a little
fish, yet when it adheres to the vessel it effectually prevents
its progress.
How sad it is to see certain souls, like vessels richly
freighted, full of good works, of spiritual exercises, virtues
and gifts of God, which, because they have not the courage
to break with certain tastes, attachments, or affections—these
aré all one—never reach the haven of perfect union. And
yet it would cost them but a single vigorous flight to break
the thread of their attachment or to shake off the remora of
desire. It is a matter of deep regret, when God has given
CHAP.
xi.
Perfection
measured by
habits.
The remora
of selfish
attachments.
BOOK
I.
Not to ad-
vance is to
fall back,
42 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
them strength to burst other and stronger bonds — those of
vanity and sins — merely because they will not detach them-
selves from trifles, which God has left for them to break
away from for love of Him, and which are no more than a
single thread — that they should for this neglect their own
advancement and the attainment of so great a blessing. And
what is still more deplorable, because of such attachments,
not only do they not advance, but, so far as perfection is con-
cerned, they fall back, losing in some measure what they had
already gained with so much labour. For it is well known
that on the spiritual road not to ‘go on overcoming self is
to go backwards, and not to increase our gain is to lose.
This is what our Lord would teach us when He says, ‘ He
that gathereth not with me scattereth.* He who will
neglect to repair the vessel that is but slightly cracked,
will at last lose all the liquor it may hold; for ‘he that
contemneth small things shall fall by little and little :’ f and
‘of one spark cometh a great fire.’{ One imperfection is
enough to beget another, and this other, others again. We
shall never see a soul, negligent in overcoming a single
desire, which has not also many other desires arising out of
the weakness and imperfection from which the first proceeds.
There have been many persons who, by the grace of God, had
made great progress in detachment and freedom, and yet
because they gave way, under the pretence of some good—
as of society and friendship —to petty attachments, have
thereby lost the spirit and sweetness of God, holy solitude,
and cheerfulness, and have injured the integrity of their spi-
ritual exercises, so as to be unable to stop before all was gone.
All this has befallen them because they did not root out
the principle of pleasure and of the sensual desires, keeping
themselves in solitude for God.
* S. Matt. xii. 30. + Eccles, xix. 1. } Ibid. xi. 34.
ae ah
‘ Bay Ds
Ld
*
ae
&
r
Pl aN
- GOD REQUIRES AN UNDIVIDED LOVE. 43
We must ever walk on this road so as to reach the end;
that is, in the constant repression of our desires, and not in
their indulgence: and if we do not perfectly repress them we
shall never perfectly reach the end. As wood can never be
transformed into fire if but one degree of heat necessary for
that end be wanting, so the soul that has but one imperfec-
tion can never be perfectly transformed in God, as I shall
hereafter explain when speaking of the Night of Faith. The
soul has but one will; and if this will be occupied or embar-
rassed, it is not free, perfect, solitary, and pure, as it ought to
be for this Divine transformation. This truth is foreshadowed
in the Book of Judges, where we read that an angel of the
Lord came to the children of Israel and told them that, be-
cause they had not destroyed the inhabitants of the land, but
had made a league with some of them, those, therefore,
would be left among them as their enemies, and an occasion
to them of their fall and destruction: ‘ Wherefore I would not
destroy them from before your face, that you may have
enemies, and their gods may be your ruin.’*
God is just in thus dealing with those souls whom He has
led forth out of the Egypt of this world, for whom he has
slain the giants of their sins, and whose enemies he has
destroyed, which are the occasions of sin which they meet
with in the world, and all this for the sole purpose of their
entrance into the promised land of the Divine union. He is
just, I say, in thus dealing with them, when he sees them
form friendships, and become confederate with the heathen,
which are their imperfections; when they do not mortify
themselves wholly, but are negligent and slothful in their
lives: for this, then, He becomes angry with them, and suffers
them to fall through their desires from bad to worse.
This truth is also shadowed forth in the command of God
* Judges ii, 3.
The soul has
but one will
BOOK
a
Summary.
44 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
to Josue when the children of Israel were about to enter into
the land of promise. The city of Jericho was to be utterly
destroyed and all that was within, man and woman, young
and old, together with the cattle; and the people were not
to take, nor even to touch any of the spoil thereof.* He,
therefore, that will enter into the Divine union must put to
death all that lives in his soul, whether small or great, many
or few; he must abstain from all desire thereof, and be com-
pletely detached therefrom, as if neither existed for the other.
S. Paul, also writing to the Corinthians, says the same
thing: ‘This therefore I say, brethren, the time is short: it
remaineth, that they also who have wives be as if they had
none, and they that weep, as though they wept not, and
they that rejoice as if they rejoiced not, and they that buy as
though they possessed not, and they that use this world as
if they used it not.’ The apostle teaches here that we must
be detached in spirit from the world if we would walk so as
to attain unto God.
CHAPTER XII.
The nature of those desires which suffice to injure the soul.
I migut have entered at greater length on the night of sense
according to the extent of evil which the desires occasion,
not only in the way described, but in many others as well,
but this is enough for my purpose, because it is now clear
why the mortification of them is called night, and how ne-
cessary it is to enter into this night in order to draw near
unto God.
One thing only remains for discussion before I speak of
* Josue vi. 18, 21. Tt 1 Cor, vii. 29-31.
——
_o-
SIN AND ITS PENALTY. 45
the way by which this night is entered upon, and so conclude
this book—namely, a doubt which might be suggested to the
reader by the matter in hand. It might be asked, in the
first place, whether any desire be enough to produce in the
soul these positive and negative evils of which I have spoken,
and, in the second place, whether any desire, however slight,
and of whatever ‘kind, be enough to produce all these evils
together, or whether each desire produces a distinct evil, as
one desire weariness, another pain, and another darkness.
To this I reply as follows:—In the first place, if we are
speaking of the negative evil, which consists in the soul’s
being deprived of God, it is only those voluntary desires
which are the matter of mortal sin that can, and do, result
in this: for these rob the soul in this life of grace, and in
the next of glory, which is the fruition of God. And in the
second place that all these desires, those which are the matter
of mortal sin, and those voluntary desires, which are matter
of venial sin, and those which are imperfections, are, every-
one of them, enough to inflict on the soul the positive evils.
These evils, though in one sense negative, are here called
positive, because they correspond to a turning towards the
creature, as the negative evils correspond to a turning away
from God.
There is, however, this difference: those desires which are
matter of mortal sin produce complete blindness, pain, im-
pureness, and weakness. But those other desires, matter of
venial sin, or known imperfection, do not produce these evils
in this perfect and supreme degree, seeing that they do
not cast the soul out of the state of grace: for the loss of
grace is concurrent with their dominion over the soul, because
their life consists in the death of grace. Still they occasion
somewhat of these evils, though but remissly, proportional
to that weakness and remissness which they generate in the
soul; so that the particular desire which most weakens the
CHAP.
XII.
What evilsin
the soul does
even one sin
produce ?
Answer.
1, Onemortal
sin inflicts all
the negative
But in differ-
ent degrees,
46 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Book soul is most fruitful in pain, blindness, and impureness. But
it is to be remarked that, though every desire generates all
ScBore tins these evils, which we here call positive, there are some which
e.g. (1) Sen chiefly and directly produce particular evils, and other evils
incidentally. For though it is true that one sensual desire
produces all these evils, yet its chief and proper fruit is the
(2) Avarice. defilement of soul and body. Though one avaricious desire
. also produces all these evils, yet its principal and direct
@) Vain- result is trouble. Though one vainglorious desire, precisely
like the rest, produces all these evils, yet its chief and im-
(4) Gluttony. mediate effect is darkness and blindness. And, though one
gluttonous desire issues in the same evils, yet still its primary
direct result is weakness in those things that pertain to
virtue. The same may be said of all other desires.
Fruits of The reason why any act of voluntary desire produces all
these evils in the soul together, is that contrariety which
subsists directly between it and those acts of virtue which
result in opposite effects. As an act of virtue produces and
generates in the soul sweetness, peace, consolation, light,
pureness, and fortitude together, so an unruly desire begets
pain, fatigue, weariness, blindness, and weakness. All virtues
The foree of increase by the practice of each; so also vices thrive and
grow, and their effects are magnified in the soul in the same
way. Though all these evils are not visible then when the
desire is gratified, because the satisfaction thereof furnishes
at the time no opportunity for them, yet afterwards the evil
results become clearly visible. For the desire, when it is -
fulfilled, is sweet, and appears good, but afterwards the
effects thereof are found to be bitter, which is the experience
of everyone who has suffered himself to be led away thereby.
I am not ignorant, however, that there are some so blind
and so insensible as not to*feel this: they do not walk in
the ways of God, and therefore see not that which hinders
their drawing near unto Him.
ENTRANCE INTO THE NIGHT OF PRIVATION. 47
I am not speaking here of those other natural desires
which are involuntary, nor of thoughts which do not go
beyond the first movements, nor of other temptations to
which we consent not, because none of these produce any of
the evils I describe. Though a person liable to these trials
may imagine that the passion and disturbance thus occasioned
darken and defile his soul, in reality it is not so—yea,
rather the contrary effects are sometimes the result of them.
Because, in proportion to the resistance offered, such an one
gains strength, pureness, light, consolation, and many other
good things, according to the words of our Lord to S. Paul:
‘Virtue is made perfect in infirmity.” * But voluntary
desires produce these and more evils. For this cause the
chief solicitude of spiritual directors is to mortify the desires
of their penitents, and to make them deny themselves in all
that is pleasing to them, so as to deliver them from so great
misery.
CHAPTER XIII.
How the soul enters by faith into the night of sense.
Ir now remains for me to give some directions by which the
soul may be able to enter on this night of sense. Ordinarily,
the soul enters in two ways on this night: one is the active
way, the other is the passive. The active way is that by
which the soul is able to make, and does make, efforts of its
own to enter in, assisted by divine grace. Of this I shall
speak in the instructions that follow. The passive way is
that in which the soul doeth nothing as of itself, neither does
it make therein any efforts of its own; but it is God who
works in it, giving special aids, and the soul is, as it were,
* 2 Cor, xii. 9,
How trials
give
strength,
Two ways.
1, Active.
2. Passive,
BOOK
Instructions.
Tmitation of
Christ.
Self-denial.
48 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
patient, freely consenting thereto. Of this I shall speak
when treating of the obscure night, when I shall have to
describe those who are beginners. And as I shall have then
to give many counsels to such with reference to the many
imperfections to which they are liable on this road, I shall
not enlarge on that question now. Besides, this is not the
place to do so, for Iam now concerned only with the reasons
why this journey is called night, with the nature and di-
visions of the same. But as it seems a defect, and not so
profitable as it should be, to abstain here from furnish-
ing some help or instructions proper for this night of the
desires, I have determined to lay down the brief instruction
following. I shall adopt the same course at the conclusion
of each of these divisions or causes of this night, of which
by the help of our Lord I undertake to speak.
These instructions for the subduing of our desires are,
in my opinion, though brief and few, as profitable and
effectual as they are brief. He who will reduce them to
practice will need none others, for they include everything.
1. Be continually careful and earnest in imitating Christ
in everything, conforming thyself to His life: for this end
thou must meditate thereon, that thou mayest know how to
imitate it, and conduct thyself in all things as He would
have done Himself.
2. To do this well, every satisfaction offered to the senses,
which is not for God’s honour and glory, must be renounced
and rejected for the love of Jesus Christ, who in this life had,
and sought, no other pleasure than doing the will of His
Father, which was His meat,* as He tells us Himself. For
instance, if the pleasure of listening to anything which tends
not to the service of God presents itself, seek not that plea-
sure, neither give ear to what is said. If thou art offered
* S. John iv. 34,
Ot
MORTIFICATION OF THE PASSIONS. 49
the sight, pleasurable in itself, of things which do not tend CHAP.
to God’s honour, seek not that pleasure, and abstain from ;
that sight. Do the same also in conversation and every
; other commerce of society. Practise the same mortification
' with respect to the other senses, as far as possible; and if
; it be not possible, it will be enough not to seek the pleasure
; that is offered. Thus the mortification of the senses and
___ the absence of all pleasure must be striven after, so that
the soul may be as in darkness. The practice of this counsel
will bring with it great profit in a short time.
In order to mortify and calm the four natural passions
of joy, hope, fear, and grief, from the concord and tran-
quillity of which result these and other great advantages, the
following instructions are a perfect means of great merit
and the source of great virtues : —
Strive always, not after that which is most easy, but that Mortification
which is most difficult.
Not after that which is most pleasant, but that which is 1. Joy.
most unpleasant.
Not after that which giveth pleasure, but after that which
giveth none.
: Not after that which is consoling, but that which is 2. criet.
__ afflictive.
| Not after that which ministers repose, but after that
which ministers labour.
Not after great things, but after little things. 8. Hope.
Not after that which is elevated and precious, but after
that which is vile and despised.
Strive not to desire anything, but rather nothing. 4. Fear,
Seek not after that which is better, but that which is worse,
and desire to be detached from all things, empty and poor for
Christ’s sake. This state is to be embraced with a perfect
heart, and the will must conform thereto. Because if our
heart be truly engaged herein, we shall in a short time
VOL. I. E
3. Thought.
Instructions
how to enjoy,
know, pos-
sess, and be
like the All,
which is God.
1. What to
seek,
2. What to do.
50 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
attain to great joy and consolation, doing our work orderly
with discretion.
These instructions, well acted upon, are sufficient for our
entrance on the night of sense. But still, out of the
abundance of the matter, I will give another method of
devotion, which teaches us how to mortify truly the desire
of honour, from which so many others proceed. .
1. Do those things which bring thee into contempt, and
desire that others also may do them.
2. Speak disparagingly of thyself,[an contrive that others
may do so tog,; Oe Has fur?- Sem me itd $24
3. Think humbly and Bick Wee of thyself, /and de-
sire that others may do so also.j .
I think it fitting, in conclusion, to insert here certain
instructions for ascending to the summit of Mount Carmel,
which is the high estate of union. Though the doctrine
they contain is spiritual and interior, it relates also to the
spirit of imperfection in sensible and exterior things, which
may be met in the two roads on either side of the way of
perfection. We shall, therefore, take these sentences in
this sense, namely, as referring to sensible things, and after-
wards, in the second division of the night, we shall take them
as referring to that which is spiritual.
1. That thou mayest have pleasure in everything, seek
pleasure in nothing.
2. That thou mayest know everything, seek to know nothing.
3. That thou mayest possess all things, seek to posséss
nothing.
4. That thou mayest be everything, seek to be nothing.
5. That thou mayest attain to that of which thou hast no
present perception, thou must walk there where thou hast
no perception.
6. That thou mayest attain to that thou knowest not, thou
must go through that thou knowest not.
_ THE THIRST AFTER GOD. “51
7. That thou mayest attain to that thou possessest not,
thou must go through that thou possessest not.
8. That thou mayest attain to that which thou art not, thou
must go through that which thou art not.
_ Instructions how not to impede the All.
1. When thou dwellest upon anything, thou hast ceased to
cast thyself upon the All.
2. Because in order to arrive from all to the All, thou hast :
to deny thyself wholly in all.
3. And when thou comest to attain the All, thou must
keep it without desiring anything.
4. Because if thou wilt keep anything with the All, thou
hast not thy treasure simply in God.
In detachment the spirit finds quiet and repose, for covet-
. ing nothing, nothing wearies it by elation, and nothing op-
presses it by dejection, because it stands in the centre of its
own humility; for as soon as it covets anything it is imme-
diately fatigued thereby.
CHAPTER XIV.
Explanation of the second line of the stanza,
With anxious love inflamed,
Now that I have explained the first line of the stanza, which
relates to the sensual night, and described what the night of
sense is, and why it is called night, and that I have also
taught how we are to enter on it in the active way, it remains
for me here to treat of its wonderful properties and effects.
These are comprised in the following lines of this stanza. I
touch but lightly upon them, as I promised in the prologue,
E2
CHAP.
xiii.
Desires for
1, Happiness,
2. Know-
ledge,
8. Gain, and
4. Glory only
satisfied in
God, who is
the All.
the heart of
man,
Deus meus et
omnia,
Recapitu-
lation,
BOOK
a,
The effects
of the night
of privation.
1. Love of
God.
52 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
and pass on at once to the second book, which describes the
other, the spiritual, division of this night.
The words of the soul then are ‘with anxious love in-
flamed.’ The soul has passed out and gone forth in the
obscure night of sense to the union of the Beloved. For, in
order to overcome our desires, and to deny ourselves in all
things, our love and inclination for which are wont so to in-
flame the will that it delights therein, we require another and
greater fire of another and nobler love—that of the Bride-
groom—-so that having all our joy in Him, and‘deriving from
Him all our strength, we may gain such resolution and
courage as shall enable us easily to abandon and deny all
besides. It was necessary, in order to subdue our sensual
desires, not only to have this love for the Bridegroom, but
also to be on fire therewith, and that with anxiety. For the
fact is, that our sensual nature is influenced by such vehe-
ment desires, and attracted by sensible objects, that if our
spiritual nature were not on fire with other and nobler
anxieties — anxieties for that which is spiritual — we should
never overcome our natural and sensible satisfactions, nor
be able to enter on the night of sense, neither should we
have the courage to remain in the darkness, in the denial
of every desire.
The nature and varieties of these anxieties of love, which
the soul feels in the beginning of the way of union, the care-
fulness and the contrivances it employs that it may go forth
out of its own house, which is self-will, into the night of the
mortification of the senses ; how easy, and even pleasant, these
anxieties make the toils and dangers of that night—this is
not the place to explain, neither, indeed, can it be done; for
these things are rather to be felt and meditated upon than
matters for description: so I shall pass on to the explana-
tion of the other lines in the following chapter.
CHAPTER XV.
Explanation of the last lines.
©O nappy lot! I departed unobserved; my house being now
g at rest.’ This is a metaphor derived from the miserable
_ condition of slaves. He who is delivered therefrom, pro-
¥ _ nounces his own a happy lot when none of his jailers hinder
his release. The soul, because of original sin, is truly a
_ prisoner in this mortal body, in the power of natural passions
and desires, and therefore counts it a happy lot when it
has gone forth unobserved from this slavery and subjection,
that is, unimpeded and unembarrassed by all its desires. To
effect this, it was advantageous for the soul to have departed
in an obscure night, in the denial of every pleasure, and in
the mortification of every desire. —
: ‘My house being now at rest,’ that is, the sensual part of
the soul, the house of the desires being now at rest, because
those desires are overcome and lulled to sleep. For until
: the desires be lulled to sleep by the mortification of sensuality,
and sensuality itself be mortified in them, so that it shall be
contrary to the spirit no more, the soul cannot go forth in
perfect liberty to the fruition of the union with the Beloved.
54 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK IL
PROXIMATE MEANS OF UNION, FAITH. THE SECOND NIGHT
. OF THE SPIRIT.
CHAPTER I.
STANZA IL
In darkness, and in safety,
By the secret ladder, disguised,
O happy lot!
In darkness and concealment,
My house being now at rest.
ae ERE the soul sings of that happy lot, attained by
a detachment of spirit from all spiritual imperfections,
Pawatbace and selfish desires in spiritual things. This was a happiness
mespin so much the greater, because of the greatness of the diffi-
- culty which the soul had to encounter in tranquillizing the
house of the spiritual part, and in effecting an entrance into
the interior darkness, which is spiritual detachment from all
things, as well sensual as spiritual, leaning only on a living
faith—it is of this I speak ordinarily, because I have to do
with those who are walking in the way of perfection—and
by it ascending upwards unto God.
Explanation This is here called a secret ladder, because all the steps
= and divisions of it are secret, hidden from sense and the
intellect. Thus the soul is in darkness as to all natural
light of sense and intellect, going forth beyond the limits of
nature and of reason, that it may ascend by this Divine
ladder of the faith which reaches and penetrates into the
heights of God. The soul is said to have gone forth in
disguise, because its natural condition was Divinely changed,
ascending upwards by faith. And this disguise was the
ios
_— lal
THE BLISS OF FAITH. 56
cause why it was unobserved, unimpeded by the things of
time or reason, and by the devil himself: for none of these
can hurt the soul while travelling onwards by living faith.
This is not all: the soul travels in such secrecy and con-
cealment, and the devil with his wiles is so ignorant of its
way, that it journeys truly, as it is here said, ‘in darkness
and concealment,’ so far as the evil one is concerned, to
whom the light of the faith is more than darkness. Thus
the soul, which thus walks, may be said to walk in darkness,
hidden from the devil, as I shall more clearly explain here-
after. ;
This is the reason why it is said that the soul went forth
‘in darkness and in safety.’ For he to whom is granted
the happiness of walking in the darkness of the faith, having
faith for his guide, walks in the utmost security when he
goeth forth beyond all natural imaginations and spiritual
reasonings. And so it is added, that the soul went forth in
the spiritual night, ‘my house being now at rest,’ that is,
the rational and spiritual parts. When the soul attains to
the Divine union, its natural powers, impulses, and sensible
anxieties in the spiritual part, are at rest. It is, therefore,
not said here that the soul went forth anxiously, as in the
first night of sense, because the anxieties of sensible love
were necessary for a perfect departure then, so as to journey
in the night of sense, and to be detached from all objects of
the same. But in order to perfect the tranquillity of the
house of the spirit, no more is required than the confirmation
of all the powers of the soul, all its pleasures and spiritual
desires, in pure faith. This done, the soul is united with
the Beloved in a certain union of simplicity, pureness, love,
and resemblance.
In the first stanza, speaking of the sensual part, the soul
went forth ‘in an obscure night;’ and here, speaking of the
spiritual part, ‘in darkness, because the darkness of the
CHAP.
I.
BOOK
II.
mi. Faith ;
the middle
and darkest
part of the
obscure
night.
56 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
spiritual part is greater, as this darkness is greater than that
of the night; for, however obscure the night may be, still
something is visible, but in this darkness nothing is visible.
Thus, in the night of sense, there remains still some light,
because the understanding remains, and the reason also, which
are not blind. But in this spiritual night, the night of faith,
all is darkness, both’ in the understanding and the sense.
The soul says that it went forth ‘in darkness and in safety,’
which it said not in the first stanza, and the reason is that
the soul, when it makes the least usage of its own proper
ability, travels most securely, because it walks most by
faith.
I shall explain this matter at great length in the present
book, to which I request the benevolent attention of the
devout reader, because it will contain things most important
to the truly spiritual man. Though they are somewhat
obscure, yet one question will open the way to another, so
that, as I believe, all will be well understood.
CHAPTER II.
The second part, or cause of this night—Faith. Two reasons why it
is darker than the first and third.
I HAVE now to treat of the second part of this night—Faith—
which is that wonderful means of reaching the goal, which is
God, who is also to the soul, naturally, the third cause or
division of this night. Faith, which is the mean, is com-
pared to midnight, and thus it may be said, that faith is to
the soul darker than the first part, and in a way also darker
than the third: for the first part, that of the senses, is like
the beginning of night, when sensible objects cease to be
visible, and is not so far removed from light as midnight is.
The third part, that which immediately precedes daybreak, is
FAITH, THE MIDNIGHT OF THE SPIRIT. 57
not so dark as midnight, because the clear light of morning
is at hand: this is compared with God.
Though it is true, speaking after the manner of men, that
God is as dark a night to the soul as faith, yet because God
Himself, when the three divisions of this night are over
—which are naturally the night of the soul — illumines it
supernaturally with the rays of the Divine Light in a higher
and nobler way, experimentally—which is the commencement
of the perfect union which ensues when the third night is
past—He may be said to be less dark. It is also more obscure
than the first part, which relates to the lower, the sensual,
nature of man, and consequently the more exterior. The
second night, of faith, relates to the higher, to the rational,
nature of man, and is therefore more interior and obscure,
because it deprives us of the light of reason, or rather, to
speak more clearly, makes it blind. Thus the comparison
between it and midnight is made good: for that is the most
obscure and most perfect portion of the night.
I have now to show how this second division—the night
of faith—is the night of the spirit, as the first division is the
night of sense, and then what those things are which are
contrary to it, and how the soul is to be disposed actively
for entering into it. For as to the passive way, which is the
work of God, I reserve it for another opportunity —for the
third book of this treatise.
CHAPTER IU.
Faith, the dark night of the soul. Proofs from reason and the
Holy Scriptures,
Fartu, according to theologians, is a habit of the soul,
certain and obscure. The reason why it is an obscure habit
is that it makes us believe the truths which God Himself
Three points
in the second
division :
1. Faith, the
night of the
soul,
2. What con-
trary to it.
3. Dispo-
sitions for it,
First point,
Faith ; its
definition,
BOOK
IL.
An excess of
light,
Two analo-
58) THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
has revealed — truths surpassing the light of reason, and
- beyond the reach of all human understanding. Hence it is
that the excessive light of the faith is obscure darkness to
the soul, because it subdues that which is great, and des-
troys that which is little, as the light of the sun puts out
all other lights so that they appear not, and subdues our
power of vision. As the sun blinds the eyes and robs them
of the vision which it gives, because its own light is out of
proportion with, and stronger than, our power of sight, so
the light of faith, by reason of its greatness and the mode
in which God communicates it, transcends our understand-
ing, which in itself reaches only to natural knowledge, though
gifted with the power of obeying in that which is super- _
natural when it is the will of our Lord to bring it to a
supernatural action. The intellect, therefore, can of itself
know nothing but in a natural way, the beginning of which
is in the senses, and in no other way. For this end it
retains the forms and species of objects either in themselves
or in their resemblances: for as the philosophers say, know-
ledge results from an object and the faculty. .Ab objecto et
potentia paritur notitia.
If a man were told of things he knows nothing of, and the
like of which he has never seen, no light could be thrown on
them, so far as he is concerned, any more than if they had
never been spoken of in his presence. For instance, if you
were told that there is in a certain island an animal which
you have never seen, and no description of it were given you,
so that you might compare it with other animals, your
knowledge of it, or what it resembles, is not greater than it
would have been if you had never been told of it. I will
give another illustration which will make the matter still
more clear: if you tell a person blind from his birth that
one object is white, another yellow, he would never under-
stand what you mean, though you may speak to him for
FAITH COMETH BY HEARING. © 59
ever, because he has never seen such colours or anything CHAP.
like them, so as to have any opinion on the subject. The
word colour only will remain with him, because that reaches
him through the ear, but the form and figure thereof escape
him because he has never seen them.
Such is faith to the soul, though the resemblance is not
exact in all points; faith tells us of things we have never
seen, of things of which we had no previous knowledge, either
in themselves or in aught resembling them, and to which we
never could have attained but by revelation. The light of
natural knowledge cannot inform us of these things, because
they are out of proportion with our natural senses. We
know them because we have heard of them, believing that
which the faith teaches us, subjecting thereto our natural
_ light, and making ourselves blind before it: for ‘ faith cometh
by hearing, and hearing by the Word of Christ.’* Faith is
not knowledge that entereth in by any of the senses, but
only the assent of the soul to that which cometh by hearing.
Faith, therefore, far transcends the foregoing illustrations:
- for not only does it not produce evidence or knowledge, but,
as I have said, it transcends and surpasses all other know-
ledge whatever, so that perfect contemplation alone may judge
of it. Other sciences are acquired by the light of the
understanding, but that of faith is acquired without it, by
rejecting it for faith, and it is lost in its own light. There-
fore is it said, ‘ If you will not believe you shall not under-
stand.’ t
It is evident that the faith is a dark night to the soul, and Faith though
itis thus that it gives it light; the more it darkens the soul lightens the
the more does it enlighten it. It is by darkening that it
gives light, according to the words of the prophet, ‘If you
will not believe,’ that is, ‘if you do not make yourselves
i
* Rom. x, 17, + Is. vii. 9, according to the Sept.
60 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK blind you shall not understand’—that is, you shall have no
Tei ight, the high and supernatural knowledge.
hay" The faith was foreshadowed by the cloud which divided
ae the Egyptians from the children of Israel at the entrance of
the Red Sea. ‘ It was a dark cloud enlightening the night.’ *
How wonderful a cloud! — its darkness illumines the night.
Faith, then, which is a dark cloud, obscure to the soul—and
night also, for in the presence of faith the soul is blind, with-
out its own natural light—enlightens with its own obscurity,
and illumines the darkness of the soul, so that the master be-
comes like the disciple. For man who is in darkness can-
not be rightly enlightened except by darkness, as the Psalm-
ist saith, ‘Day to day uttereth speech, and night to night
showeth knowledge.’t The ‘day’ is God in everlasting bliss,
where it is perpetual day, who communicates and reveals
His Word, the Son, to the blessed angels and the holy souls,
_ who are also now day, so that they may know Him and re-
joice in Him. ‘Night,’ which is the faith in the Church
militant, where it-is still night, showeth knowledge to the
Church, and consequently to every soul, which is also night,
because it does not as yet enjoy the clear beatific vision, and
because in the presence of faith its natural light is extin-
guished. The teaching set before us here then is, that the
faith, which is obscure night, illumines the soul which is in
darkness, according to the words of the Psalmist, ‘ Night shall
be my light in my pleasures,’{ that is, in the pleasures of
pure contemplation and of union with God. The night of
faith shall guide me. The soul, therefore, must be in dark-
ness that it may have light, and be able to journey on the
spiritual road.
* Ex, xiv. 20. + Ps. xviii, 3. t Ps, exxxviii. 11.
DISPOSITIONS FOR FAITH. |
CHAPTER IV.
How the soul must be in darkness, in order to be duly guided by faith
to the highest contemplation.
I BELizveE that I have now in some measure explained how
faith is the obscure night of the soul, and how also the soul
must be obscured, or deprived of its natural light, that it may
be guided by faith to this high end of union. But that the
soul may know how to effect this, it is necessary that I should
explain somewhat more minutely this obscurity, which it
must observe that it may enter into the abyss of faith. I
shall, therefore, in this chapter, speak of that in general, and
by and by, with the favour of God, more particularly of the
way which the soul must. keep, that it may not go astray in
that obscurity, nor put obstacles before its guide.
I say, then, that the soul, to be rightly guided by faith to
this estate, must be in darkness, not only as to that part
thereof—the sensual and the inferior, of which I have already
spoken—which regards temporal and created things, but also
as to that part thereof, the rational and the superior, of
which I am now speaking, which regards God and spiritual
things. Because it is clearly necessary for the soul, aiming
at its own supernatural transformation, to be in darkness and
far removed from all that relates to its natural condition, the
sensual and rational parts. The supernatural is that which
transcends nature, and, therefore, that which is natural re-
mains below. Inasmuch as this union and transformation
are not cognisable by sense or any human power, the soul
must be completely and voluntarily empty of all that can
enter into it, of every affection and inclination, so far as it
concerns itself. Who shall hinder God from doing His own
will in a soul that is resigned, detached, and self-annihilated ?
The soul, therefore, must be emptied of all such feelings ; and,
Iv.
Detachment
from natural
and superna-
tural goods of
the _—
necessary for
Perfection.
Second point.
What to
shun,
In this life
union with
God is not
1. by the
senses ;
BOOK
Il.
2. Nor by
intellectual
vision ;
3. But by
Faith.
Two proofs
from Holy
Scripture,
62 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
however great may be its supernatural endowments, it must
be as it were detached from them, in darkness like a blind
man, leaning on the obscure faith, and taking it for its light
and guide; not trusting to anything it understands, tastes,
feels, or imagines—for all this is darkness, which will lead it
astray, or keep it back; and faith is above all understanding,
taste, and sense.
If the soul be not blind herein, and in total darkness as to
all such things, it will never reach to those higher things
which faith teaches. <A blind man, if he be not totally blind,
will not commit himself wholly to his guide, but because he
sees a little he thinks a certain road secure, not seeing another
which is better. Such an one leads his guide astray, because
he acts as if he saw, and has more authority in the matter
than his guide: so the soul, if it leans upon any under-
standing, sense, or feeling of its own—all this, whatever it
may be, is very little and very unlike to God—in order to
travel along this road, is most easily led astray or impeded,
because it is not perfectly blind in faith, which is its true
guide. This is the meaning of S. Paul when he said, ‘He
that cometh to God must believe that He is.’* He that will
draw near and unite himself unto God, must believe that He
' is. This is saying in effect, He that will attain to the union
of God must not rely on his own understanding, nor lean
upon his own imagination, sense, or feeling, but must believe
in the perfection of the Divine Essence, which is not cognis-
able by the understanding, desire, imagination, nor any sense
of man, and which in this life can never be known as it
is. Yea, in this life, our highest knowledge and deepest
sense, perception, and understanding of God is infinitely
distant from what He .is, and from the pure fruition of His
Presence. ;
* Heb. xi. 6,
TO LOSE SELF IS TO FIND GOD. 63
Thus the Prophet cries out, ‘The eye hath not seen, O
God, besides Thee, what things Thou hast prepared for them
that wait for Thee;’* and S. Paul repeats his words, ‘ Eye
hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the
heart of man, what things God hath prepared for them that
love Him.’ How much soever, then, the soul may desire to be
perfectly united by grace in this life to that whereunto it is,
to be united in glory in the next, which as 8. Paul saith, eye
hath not seen nor ear heard, and which hath not entered into
the heart of manin the flesh, it is evident, that in order to
be perfectly united in this life in grace and love, it must
live in utter darkness as to all that can enter by the eye, all
that the ear receives, all that the fancy may imagine, or the
heart conceive, which here signifies the soul. Greatly embar-
rassed, then, is the soul, on the road of the Divine union,
when it leans at all on its own understanding, sense, ima-
gination, judgment, will, or any other habits of its own,
or anything peculiar to itself, not knowing how to release
and detach itself therefrom. For, as I have said, the
goal to which it tends is beyond this, though this may
be the highest thing it may know or feel, and it must,
therefore, go beyond, passing on to that which it knows
not.
On. this road, therefore, to abandon one’s own way is to
enter on the true way, or, to speak more correctly, to pass
onwards to the goal; and to forsake one’s own way is to enter
on that which has none, namely God. For the soul that
attains to this estate has no ways or methods of its own,
neither does it, nor can it, lean upon anything of the kind.
I mean ways of understanding, perceiving, or feeling, though
it has all ways at the same time, as one who, possessing
nothing, yet possesseth everything. For the soul cou-
rageously resolved on passing, interiorly and exteriorly,
* \Is, lxiy. 4, fT 1 Cor. ii. 9.
CHAP.
64 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK beyond the limits of its own nature, enters illimitably within
the supernatural, which has no measure, but contains. all
measure eminently within itself. To arrive there is to
depart hence, going away, out of oneself, as far as possible,
from this vile estate to that which is the highest of all.
Therefore, rising above all that may be known and under-
.stood, temporally and spiritually, the soul must earnestly
desire to reach that which in this life cannot be known, and
which the heart cannot conceive; and, leaving behind all
actual and possible taste and feeling of sense and spirit,
must desire earnestly to arrive at that which transcends all
sense and all feeling.
She flesh and In order that the soul may be free and unembarrassed for
bothtobe this end, it must in no wise attach itself—as I shall pre-
¥ sently explain when I treat of this point—to anything it
may receive in the sense or spirit, but esteem, such as of
much less importance. For the more importance the soul
attributes to what it understands, feels, and imagines, and
the greater the estimation it holds it in, whether it be
spiritual or not, the more it detracts from the Supreme Good,
and the greater will be its delay in attaining to it. On the
i other hand, the less it esteems all that it may have in com-
| parison with the Supreme Good, the more does it magnify
and esteem the Supreme Good, and consequently the greater
the progress towards it.
In this way the soul draws nearer and nearer to the
Divine union, in darkness, by the way of faith which, though
it be also obscure, yet sends forth a marvellous light.
Certainly, if the soul will see, it thereby becomes instantly
more blind than he who should attempt to gaze upon the
sun shining in its strength. On this road, therefore, to
have our own faculties in darkness is to see the light, ac-
cording to the words of our Lord: ‘For judgment I am
~j ~j. come into this world, that they who see not may see, and
LIFE OF GOD IN THE SOUL. 65
: a : they who see may become blind.’* This relates to the
spiritual road: he who is in darkness, blind as to his own
proper and natural light, shall see supernaturally, and he
who shall rely on any light of his own, the greater will be
his blindness, and the more he shall be hindered on the way
of the Divine union.
I think it necessary now, in order to avoid confusion, to
explain the nature of the soul’s union with God. This I
intend to do in the following chapter, for if this be clearly
understood, a great light will be thrown on what is to follow.
This, therefore, seems to me a fit place for the subject. For
though it breaks in on the course of the present matter, still
it is not beside the question, because it will help us to un-
derstand the subject before us. The next chapter then will
be a sort of parenthesis, after which I shall return to the
special discussion of the three powers of the soul in their
relations to the three theological virtues with reference to
the second night of the spirit.
CHAPTER V.
The union of the soul with God. A comparison.
Wut I have hitherto written will, in some degree, explain
the nature of that estate which I have called the union of the
_ soul with God, and therefore, what now follows will be so
is much the more intelligible. It is not my intention at present
_ to describe, in particulars, what is the union of the intellect,
of the will, and of the memory; what is the transient, and
what the permanent union of these faculties, and what also
is the perfect union: of this I shall speak hereafter, and the
matter will be more clear when I come to discuss it in its
* S. John ix. 39.
VOL. I. : F
CHAP,
IV.
Chapter in
parenthesis,
BOOK
Ul.
2. Moral ;
Its definition.
66 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
proper place, having before me a vivid example of it; then
the matter will be clear, each particular observed and sus-
ceptible of a better decision. Now I am speaking only of
the perfect and permanent union in the substance of the
soul and its powers, so far as the union is a habit. Because,
in reference to actual union, I shall explain hereafter how
there is not, and cannot be, any permanent union in this life
in the faculties of the soul, but only that which is transient.
In order then to understand what this union is, we must
remember that in every soul, even that of the greatest sinner
in the world, God dwells, and is substantially present. This
union or presence of God, in the order of nature, subsists
between Him and all His creatures. By this He preserves
them in being, and if He withdraws it they immediately
perish and cease to be. And so when I speak of the union
of the soul with God, I do not mean this substantial pre-
sence which is in every creature, but that union and trans-
formation of the soul in God by love which is only then
accomplished when there subsists the likeness which love
begets. For this reason shall this union be called the union
of likeness, as the other is essential or substantial union ;
this latter one is natural, the other is supernatural, which
takes effect when two wills, the will of God and the will of
the soul, are conformed together, neither desiring aught
repugnant to the other. Thus the soul, when it shall have
driven away from itself all that is contrary to the divine will,
becomes transformed in God by love.
This is to be understood not only of that which is contrary
in act but also in habit, so that not only voluntary acts of
imperfection must be got rid of, but the habit thereof as
well, And because no creature can, by any actions or capa-
bilities of its own, attain to that which is God, the soul must
be therefore detached from all created things, from all |
actions and capabilities of its own, that is from its own
ss COOPERATION OF THE WILL NECESSARY. 67
understanding, taste, and feeling, so that passing by every-
thing which is unlike to, and not in conformity with God,
it may attain to the receiving of His likeness, and resting
upon nothing which is not His will, it may be so trans-
formed in Him. Though it be true, as I have said, that God
is always in every soul, bestowing upon it, and preserving to
it, by His presence, its natural being, yet for all this He
does not always communicate the supernatural life.. For
_ this is given only by love and grace, to which all souls do
not attain; and those who do, do not in the same degree,
for some arise to higher degrees of love than others. That
soul, therefore, has greater communion with God, which is
most advanced in love, that is, whose will is most conform-
able to the will of God. And that soul which has reached
perfect conformity and resemblance is perfectly united and
supernaturally transformed in God, For which cause, there-
fore, as I have already explained, the more the soul cleaves
to created things, relying on its own strength, by habit and
inclination, the less is it disposed for this union, because
it does not completely resign itself into the hands of God,
that He may transform it supernaturally. The soul has
need, therefore, to be detached from these natural con-
trarieties and dissimilarities, that God, who communicates
Himself to it naturally, in the order of nature, may also
} : _ communicate Himself supernaturally, in the order of grace.
This is the meaning of S. John when he said, ‘born,
not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of
man, but of God.’* It is as if he had said, ‘ He gave power
to be made the sons of God,’ that is, to be transformed in
God, only to those who are ‘born, not of blood, not of
natural temperaments and constitutions, ‘nor of the will of
the flesh,’ nor of our natural free will and capacities, and
* §. John i. 13.
F2
CHAP.
Ws
Concursus
Dei.
BOOK
II.
Tilustration.
68 ._ THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
still less of the will of man, which includes every form of
intellectual judgment and comprehension. To none of
these gave He power to be made sons of God in all per-
fection, but only to those who are born of God; to those
regenerated by grace, first of all dead to all that is of the
old man, rising above themselves to that which is super-
natural, and receiving from God their new birth and son-
ship, surpassing every thought of man. For as our Lord
saith, ‘ Unless a man be born again of water and the Holy
Ghost, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.’* He
who shall not have been born again of the Holy Ghost shall
not see the kingdom of God, which is the estate of per-
fection. To be born again of the Holy Ghost in this life
perfectly, is to be a soul most like unto God in purity with-
out any stain of imperfection. Thus the pure transformation
by participation of union may be effected, though not
essentially.
In order that we may have a clearer notion of the one and
the other, let us consider the following illustration: the
sun, with its rays, strikes a window; but if that window be
stained and unclean, the sun cannot shine throughout nor
transform it perfectly into itself, as it would have done, had
it been clean and unsullied. This depends not on the sun
but on the window, so that if the latter were perfectly clean,
the rays of the sun would so shine through it, and so trans-
form it as to make it seem identical with the rays and to give
forth the light thereof, though in truth the window, while it
appears.one with the rays of the sun, preserves still its own
separate and distinct substance. In this case we might say
that the window isa ray or light by participation.
Thus the soul resembles the window; the divine light of
the presence of God in the order of nature, perpetually
* $. John iii. 5.
PARTICIPATION IN THE DIVINE NATURE. 69
strikes upon it, or rather dwells within it. The soul then
by resigning itself —in removing from itself every spot and
stain of the creature, which is to keep the will perfectly
united to the will of God; for to love Him is to labour to
detach ourselves from, and to divest ourselves of, everything
which is not God, for God’s sake— becomes immediately en-
lightened by, and transformed in, God; because He com-
municates His own supernatural Being in such a way that
the soul seems to be God Himself and to possess the things
of God. Such an union is then wrought when God bestows
on the soul that supreme grace which makes the things of
God and the soul one by the transformation whith renders
the one a partaker of the other. The soul seems to be God
rather than itself, and indeed is God by participation,
though in reality preserving its own natural substance as
distinct from God as it did before, although transformed in
Him, as the window preserves its own substance distinct
from that of the rays of the sun shining through it and
making it light.
Hence it becomes more evident that the fitting disposition
Dispositions
for union ;
Purity of
for this union is, not that the soul should understand, taste, Purity of
feel, or imagine anything on the subject of the nature of
God, or any other thing whatever, but only that pureness
and love which is perfect resignation, and complete detach-
ment from all things for God alone. And as there cannot
be any perfect transformation without perfect pureness, so in
proportion to that pureness will be the enlightenment, illu-
mination,. and union of the soul with God, yet not wholly
perfect if the soul be not wholly purified and clean. The
following illustration will make this plain: conceive a
picture painted with exquisite taste and delicate finish, the
lines of which are so admirably formed that by reason of
their singular fineness they can with difficulty be observed.
Now, he whose vision is imperfect will see only the less
love.
An analogy.
wy
BOOK
“i,
70. - THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
perfect portions of the picture, and he whose vision is clearer
will see more of its beauties, and another with still better
eyesight will see more, and, finally, he whose vision is the
most perfect will see the most delicate excellencies of it, for
the painting has so much beauty that the more it is observed
the more remains to be seen. All this is applicable to those
souls who are enlightened by God and in Him transformed.
For though it be true that every soul, according to its
measure, great or little, may attain to this union, yet all do
not in an equal degree, but only as our Lord shall give unto
each; as it is with the blessed in heaven, there some see
Different*¥" God more-perfectly than others, and yet all see Him and all
degrees of
perfect
beatitude.
Third point
are satisfied and happy, for each one is filled with the vision
according to his merits, greater or less. Hence it comes to
pass, that though souls in this life enjoy equal peace and
tranquillity in their state of perfection, everyone being
satisfied, nevertheless some of them may be more advanced
than the rest, in a higher degree of union, and yet all equally
satisfied according to their several dispositions, and the
knowledge they have of God. But that soul which does
not attain to that degree of purity corresponding with the
light and vocation it has received from God, will never
obtain true peace and contentment, because it has not at-
tained to that detachment, and emptiness of its powers, which
are requisite for this pure union.
CHAPTER VI.
The three Theological virtues perfect the powers of the soul, and bring
them into a state of emptiness and darkness, Proofs from 8S. Luke
and Isaias.
of the second HAVING now to explain how the three powers of the soul, in-
division.
Active dispo- tellect, memory, and will, are to be brought into this spiritual
sitions for
— night, which is the means of the Divine union, it becomes
om ah " _
i
@
7
- ae
an
at
aw.
ley ‘cate 2 em tePAt thee
WORK OF FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY. 71
necessary, in the first place, to discuss in this chapter how the
three theological virtues, Faith, Hope, and Charity — through —————
the instrumentality of which the soul is united to God in its
powers — effect this emptiness and darkness, each one in its
own power: Faith in the intellect, Hope in the memory, and
Charity in the will. Afterwards, I shall show how the in-
tellect is made perfect in the obscurity of Faith, how the
memory is made empty in Hope, and how, also, the will is to
withdraw and detach itself from every affection that it may
ascend upwards unto God. This done, we shall see clearly
how necessary it is for the soul, if it will travel securely
along the spiritual road, to journey in the obscure night,
leaning on these three virtues, which make it empty of all
things and blind. For, as I have said, the soul is not united
to God in this life by the understanding or feeling or
imagination, or any other sense whatever, but only by Faith,
in the intellect; by Hope, which may be referred to the
memory — though also to the will — in so far as Hope relates
to that emptiness and forgetfulness of every temporal and
perishable thing which it causes, the soul preserving itself
entire for the Supreme Good which it hopes for; and by
Love, in the will.
These three virtues render empty all the powers of the
soul; Faith makes the intellect empty and blind; Hope takes
everything away from the memory, and Charity detaches the
will from every pleasure and affection which are not God.
Faith teaches us what the intellect cannot reach by the
light of nature and of reason, being, as the Apostle saith,
‘the substance of things to be hoped for.’* And though
the intellect firmly and certainly assents to them, yet it
cannot discover them; for if the intellect had discovered
them, there would be no room for Faith. And though the
* Hebr. xi. 1.
Union with
God by
1. Faith in
the intellect.
BOOK
II.
2. Hope in
the memory.
Two illustra-
tions from
Holy
Scripture.
72 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
intellect derives certainty from Faith, yet it does not derive
clearness but rather obscurity. As to Hope, there is no
doubt that it renders the memory empty, and brings dark-
ness over it as to all surrounding objects, for hope is ever
conversant with that which is not in possession, for if it were
already possessed there would be no place for hope; because,
as the Apostle saith, ‘ hope that is seen is not hope, for what
a man seeth why doth he hope for?’* This virtue, then,
makes empty also, for it is the virtue of that which is not in
possession, and not of that which is. Charity, too, in the
same way empties the will of all things, for it compels
us to love God above all, which we cannot do without
withdrawing our affections from every object, to fix them
wholly upon God. Christ our Lord hath said, ‘ Every one of
you that doth not renounce all that he possesseth cannot be
My disciple.’t Thus these virtues bring darkness over the
soul, and empty it of all created things.
Consider that parable of our Lord recorded by 8S. Luke, t
of the friend who went out at midnight asking for three
loaves. These loaves are the three theological virtues. They
were asked for at midnight, to teach us that the soul must
dispose itself for perfection in these virtues in darkness as to
all its powers, and that perfection is to be acquired in this
night of the spirit.
The prophet Isaias saw in a vision two seraphim on either
side of God, each of them with six wings. With two of their
wings they covered their feet. This signifies the quenching
and subduing of the will in everything for the sake of God.
With two of their wings they covered their faces; this signifies
the blindness of the intellect in the presence of God. With
two of their wings they flew; this signifies the flight of hope
towards those things which we possess not; lifted up on high
* Rom. viii. 24. + S. Luke xiv. 33. t S. Luke xi. 5.
GOD IN THE INTELLECT, MEMORY, AND WILL. 73
above all possession short of God. ‘ Upon it stood the sera-
phim: the one had six wings, and the other had six wings;
with two each covered his face, and with two each covered his
feet, and with two they flew.’*
We have, therefore, to lead these three powers of the ‘soul
unto these three virtues; informing the intellect by Faith,
stripping the memory of all that it possesses by Hope, and
informing the will by Charity, detaching them from, and
making them blind to, all that is beside these three virtues.
This is the spiritual night which I have called the active
night; because the soul labours, on its own part, to enter
into it. When I was treating of the night of sense, I ex-
plained how that the sensual powers of the soul are to be
emptied of all sensible objects in the desire, so that the soul
may go forth from the beginning of its course to the middle,
which is faith; so now, while speaking of the night of the
spirit, I shall also explain, by the help of God, how that the
spiritual powers of the soul are to be emptied and purified of
all that is not God, and remain in the darkness of these three
virtues, which are the means and dispositions by which the
soul becomes united with God. Herein is found every
security against the cunning of the devil and the craftiness
of self-love with all its ramifications, which is wont most
deeply to deceive and hinder the progress of spiritual persons,
because they do not know how tw be detached, and to guide
their steps by these virtues. For this cause they never per-
fectly reach the substance and pureness of spiritual good,
neither do they journey, as they might do, by the straightest
and the shortest road. Keep in mind, however, that I am
now speaking specially of those who have begun to enter the
state of contemplation. For, as to beginners, this must be
discussed at greater length, which I shall do when I shall
have to treat of what is peculiar to them.
* Is. vi. 2.
CHAP.
WL
Purity of
heart to be
obtained in
the spiritual
night.
74 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL. —
CHAPTER VIL.
The straitness of the way of life. The detachment and freedom necessary
for those who walk in it. The detachment of the intellect.
BOOK THE pureness and detachment of the three powers of the
soul require, for their discussion, greater knowledge and
abilities than mine, so as to enable spiritual persons to com-
prehend how strait the “way is that leadeth unto life, and
that, convinced of this, they may not wonder at the empti-
ness and detachment wherein we must abandon, in this night,
the three powers of the soul. For this end we must ponder
well the words of our Lord, applied here to the obscure night,
and the way of perfection. Our Lord saith, ‘ How narrow is
Perfection the gate and strait is the way that leadeth to life; and few
labour. there are that find it.”* Consider the great and significant
import of the word ‘ how.’ It is as if He had said, ‘ In truth
it is very narrow, much narrower than you think.’ Consider,
also, that He began by saying, ‘ How narrow is the gate.’ By
this He teaches us that the soul that will enter in by the gate
of Christ, which is the beginning of the road, must first of
all constrain itself, and detach the will from the things of
time and sense, loving God above them all.’ This refers to
the night of the senses.
Our Lord immediately adds, ‘ Strait is the way,’ that is of
perfection. By this He teaches us that He who will walk in
the way of perfection must.not only enter through the narrow
gate, emptying himself of everything that relates to sense,
but must also renounce all that he possesses, laying a con-
straint upon himself, and releasing himself entirely from
all attachment even to spiritual things. Thus the narrow
gate refers to the sensual nature of man, and the strait way
to his spiritual or rational nature.
* S. Matth. vii. 14.
nor
THE ROYAL ROAD OF THE HOLY CROSS. 15
He says also, ‘ Few there are that find it.’ Mark here the
reason of this, which is that there are but few who under-
stand how, and desire, to enter into this supreme detachment
and emptiness of spirit. For this pathway up the lofty moun--
tain of perfection, in that it ascends upwards and is strait,
requires that those who climb it should carry nothing with
them which shall press them downwards, or embarrass them
in their ascent upwards. And as this is a matter in which
we should seek and aim after God alone; so God only ought
to be the sole object of our efforts.
This clearly shows that the soul must be not only
disentangled from all that belongs to the creature, but also
detached and annihilated in the things of the spirit. And
so our Lord teaching us, and guiding us into this road, gives
us this wonderful doctrine, and which is, if I may so say, the
less practised by spiritual persons the more it is necessary for
them. I shall transcribe it here, because it is so necessary
and so much to the purpose, and then explain its real and
spiritual meaning. ‘ If any man will follow Me, let him deny
himself, and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoso-
ever will save his life, shall lose it, and whosoever shall lose
his life for My sake . . . shall save it.’* O that some one
would teach us how to understand, practise, and feel what is
involved in this profound lesson of self-denial given us by
our Lord Himself, that spiritual persons may perceive how
different, on this road, their conduct ought to be from that
which many of them think to be right! Some consider any
kind of retirement from the world, and any correction of
excesses to be sufficient; others are content with a certain
degree of virtue, persevere in prayer and practise mortifi-
cation, but,they do not rise to this detachment, and poverty,
or self-denial, or spiritual pureness—all these are one—which
* S. Mark viii. 34, 35.
In the way of
the Cross
Christ is
1, Our
Teacher.
Le
76 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOO our Saviour here recommends, because they nourish and
clothe their natural self with consolations, instead of de-
taching themselves therefrom, and denying themselves in
all things for God. They think it enough to deny themselves
in the things of this world, without annihilating themselves,
and purging away all self-seeking in spiritual things. Hence
it comes to pass, that when any of this solid devotion pre-
sents itself to them, which consists in the annihilation of all
sweetness in God, in dryness, in distaste, in trouble, which is
the real spiritual cross, and the nakedness of the spiritual
poverty of Christ, they run away from it as from death itself.
Spirituaa 4 They seek only for delights, for sweet communications, and
fiat, satisfactions in God, but this is not self-denial, nor detach-
ment of spirit, but rather spiritual gluttony. They render
themselves spiritually enemies of the cross of Christ, for true
spirituality seeks for bitterness rather than sweetness in God,
inclines to suffering more than to consolation, and to be in
want of everything for God rather than to possess; to dryness
and afflictions rather than to sweet communications, knowing
well that this is to follow Christ and deny self, while the other
course is perhaps nothing but to seek oneself in God, which
is the very opposite of love. For to seek self in God is to
seek for comfort and refreshment from God. But to seek
God in Himself is not only to be willingly deprived of this
thing and of that for God, but to incline ourselves to will
and choose for Christ’s sake whatever is most disagreeable,
whether proceeding from God or from the world; this is to
love God.
O who can tell us how far God wills that this self- ;
renunciation should reach! In truth it should be as death,
a temporal, natural, and spiritual annihilation in all things
which the will esteems ; herein is all our gain. This is the
meaning of our Saviour when He said, ‘ Whosoever will save
THE JOY OF SUFFERING. 17
his life shall lose it;’* that is, whosoever will possess, or
seek anything for himself, he shall lose it.. ‘ Whosoever shall
lose his life for My sake, shall save it;’ that is, whosoever
shall renounce for the sake of Christ whatever is pleasing to
his own will, choosing rather the cross—to which our Lord
referred when He said, ‘He that hateth his life’ — he shall
gain it.
Our Lord taught this same truth to the two disciples who
asked that they might be admitted to sit on His right hand
‘and on His left. He gave no encouragement to them in the
matter of their petition, but offered them the chalice which
He was about to drink Himself, as something more safe and
more precious on earth than the dignity which they sought.
This chalice is the death of our natural self by detachment
from all that relates to sense, as I have already said, and
from all that relates to the spirit, as I shall explain here-
after, so that we may journey onwards on this strait way,
that is, detachment from our own understanding, sense, and
feelings, and in such a manner that the soul shall renounce
itself both in sense and spirit, and more, so that it may not be
impeded even by the things of the spirit on the narrow road.
For this road admits only of self-denial—as our Lord declares
—and the cross, which is our staff to lean on, and which
lightens the road and makes it easy. Thus our Lord hath
said: ‘My yoke is sweet, and My burden light.’ This
burden is the cross. For if we are determined to submit
ourselves, and to carry the cross— this is nothing else but
an earnest resolution to seek and endure it in everything for
God—we shall find great refreshment and sweetness therein
to enable us to travel along this road, thus detached from
all things, desiring nothing. But if we cling to anything
whatever, whether it come from God or from the world, we
* S. Mark viii. 35. + S. Matth. xi. 30.
CHAP,
VIL
8. Our
Reward.
BOOK
II.
True perfec-
tion ;—what,
No spiritual
progress but
in the imita-
tion of
XK
4, Our Model.
78 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
are not journeying in detachment and self-denial, and so we
shall miss our way, and never be able to ascend the narrow
path. .
Would that I could persuade spiritual persons that the
way of God consisteth not in the multiplicity of meditations,
ways of devotion or sweetness, though these may be necessary
for beginners, but in one necessary thing only, in knowing
how to deny themselves in earnest, inwardly and outwardly,
giving themselves up to suffer for Christ’s sake, and anni-
hilating themselves utterly. He who shall exercise himself
herein, will then find all this and much more. And if he be
deficient at all in this exercise, which is the sum and root of
all virtue, all he may do will be but beating the air—utterly
profitless, notwithstanding great meditations and communi-
cations. There is no progress but in the imitation of Christ,
Who is the way, the truth, and the life. ‘I am the way,’
saith He, ‘and the truth, and the life. No man cometh to
the Father but by Me.’* And again, ‘I am the door. By
Me if any man enter in he shall be saved.’ That spirituality,
therefore, which would travel in sweetness at its ease, shun-
ning the imitation of Christ, is, in my opinion, nothing
worth.
And now, having said that Christ is the way, and that the
way is to die to our natural self in all that relates to sense
and spirit, I proceed to explain how it is to be done in
imitation of Christ, for He is our light and our example. In
the first place, it is certain that He died spiritually while on
earth to all things belonging to sense, and naturally at His
death; ‘The Son of man,’ saith He, ‘ hath not where to lay
His head.’{ And when He died it was the same. In the
second place, it is certain that at the hour of death His soul
was desolate and, as it were, brought to nothing, forsaken of
* §. John xiv. 6, T Ib. x. 9. } S. Matth. viii. 20.
CHRIST, THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. 79
His Father, left without comfort in the most distressing
dryness, so that He cried out on the cross, ‘My God, my
God, why hast thou forsaken Me?”* This was the greatest
sensible abandonment of His whole life; and it was then that
He wrought the greatest work of His whole life of miracles
_and of wonders, the reconciliation and union with God by
grace of all mankind. This He accomplished at that very
moment when He was most annihilated in all things, brought
lowest in the estimation of men, for when they saw Him
dying on the ignominious tree, they showed Him no rever-
ence, yea, rather they stood by and derided Him. Then,
‘too, was He brought lowest in His very nature, for that was
as it were annihilated when He died; and as to the protection
and consolation of His Father also, for He was then forsaken
that He might pay our debt to the utmost, and unite us with
God, being Himself annihilated and, as it were, brought to
nothing. Therefore it is that the Psalmist saith of Him, ‘I
am brought to nothing, and I knew not.’t This is for the
instruction of the truly spiritual man, in the mystery of the
gate and way of Christ, that he may become united with God,
and also to teach him that the more he annihilates self for
God, in sense and spirit, the more will he be united with
God, and the greater the work he will accomplish. And
when he shall have been brought to nothing, when his hu-
mility is perfect, then will take place the union of the soul
and God, which is the highest and noblest estate attainable
in this life. This consisteth not in spiritual refreshments,
tastes, or sentiments, but in the living death of the cross,
sensually and spiritually, outwardly and inwardly.
I will not proceed further with this subject, though I
could pursue it indefinitely ; for I see that Jesus Christ is but
little known by those who consider themselves His friends.
* S. Matth. xxvii. 46. + Ps. lxxii. 22.
CHAP.
Vil.
Mental sor-
rows of our
Saviour.
3
chew
:
Salvationand
Perfection
only in the
Cross.
x
80 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
These, loving themselves very much, seek in Him their own
comfort and satisfaction, and not His sufferings and death for
love of Him. I am now speaking of those who think them-
selves His friends, not of those who live at a great distance
from Him; men of learning and of dignity, and others who
live in the world, slaves of ambition and of honours—of these,
we may say, they know not Christ; and their end, however
good, will be full of anguish. I am not speaking of these,
but they will be remembered in the Day of Judgment, for
‘to them it behoveth us first to speak the word of God,’* as
to persons whom He has set up as guides to others, by reason
of their learning and exalted rank.
But let me now address myself to the intellect of the
spiritual man, and in an especial manner of him whom
God in His goodness has raised up to the state of contem-
plation—for I address myself now particularly to him—and
instruct him how he is to direct himself in the way of God by
faith, and purify himself from all contrary things, girding up
his loins that he may enter on this narrow path of obscure
contemplation.
CHAPTER VIII.
No creature, no knowledge, comprehensible by the intellect, can
subserve as proximate means of union with God.
Berore I discuss the proper and fitting means of union with
God, which is faith, it is right that I should show how that
no created, or imagined, thing can subserve the intellect as a
proper means for its union with God; and how everything
which the intellect embraces, if it does but cleave to it, be-
comes a hindrance instead of help. In this chapter I shall
show this in general, and afterwards I shall do so in parti-
* Acts xiii. 46.
THE MEDIUM OF UNION WITH GOD. 81
cular, going through all sorts of knowledge which the intellect
may receive through the senses, both exterior and interior;
and then the inconveniences and losses it may sustain through
all such knowledge, because it does not proceed in reliance
on the proper means, which is Faith.
It is a principle of philosophy that all means must be
proportionate to the end, having a certain fitness, and resem-
blance to it, such as shall be sufficient for the object in view.
For instance, a person wishes to reach a certain city: he
must necessarily travel along the road, which is the means,
_ leading to it. Likewise, if you wish to combine and unite
_ together wood and fire, in that case, it is requisite that heat,
that is the means, should so dispose the wood, and raise it to
such a degree of heat that it shall have a great resemblance
and proportion to fire. If you attempt this by any other
than the proper means, which is heat, as, for instance, by air,
water, or earth, it will be impossible to unite wood with fire.
So, therefore, if the intellect is to be united with God, so far
as that is possible in this life, it must, of necessity, make use
of those means which can effect that union, and which are
most like unto God.
But remember, among all creatures, the highest and the
lowest, there is not one that comes near unto God, or that
bears any likeness to His Substance. For, though it be true,
as theologians tell us, that all creatures bear a certain relation
to God, and are tokens of His Being, some more, some less,
according to the greater or less perfection of their nature,
yet there is no essential likeness or communion between them
and Him; yea, rather the distance between His Divine
Nature and their nature is infinite. Hence, then, it is im-
possible for the intellect to attain perfectly unto God, by
means of created things, whether of heaven or of earth,
because there is no proportion of similitude between them.
Thus David, speaking of the heavenly host, cries out:
VOL. I. G
Proportion-
ate means
necessary to -
gain an end,
What means
proportion-
ate to God?
Answer,
1. Not crea-
tures,
BOOK
af,
82 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
‘There is none among the gods like unto Thee, 0 Lord.’*
———— The ‘gods’ are the holy Angels and the souls of the Saints.
2. Not intel-
lectual per-
ception,
' (1.) Natural ;
2.) Or super-
“6 Dsky big
And again, ‘ Thy way, O God, is in the holy place; who is the
great God like our God?’ ft That is, the way to Thee, O
God, is a holy way, namely, pureness of faith. ‘ Who is the
great God like our God?’ Who is the Saint so high in
glory, or the Angel so exalted by nature, that can be a way
proportionate and sufficient for us to attain unto God? The
same Prophet speaking of the things of heaven and earth
together, saith, ‘The Lord is high and looketh on the low,
and the high he knoweth afar off.’ { That is, God high in
His own Being, seeth that the things of the earth are in
themselves most vile and low, in comparison with Himself;
and ‘ the high,’ the heavenly host, He knoweth to be far dis-
tant from Him. No creature, therefore, can bea proportion-
ate means of perfect union with God.
So also nothing that the imagination may conceive or the
intellect comprehend, in this life, is, or can be a proxi-
mate means of union with God. For if we speak of natural
knowledge; the intellect is incapable of comprehending
anything unless it be presented to it under forms and images
by the bodily senses; and these forms of things, as I have
already said, cannot serve as means, and no natural acts of
the intellect can in any way contribute thereto.
Again, if we speak of supernatural acts—as far as possible
in this life—the intellect in its bodily prison has neither the
disposition nor the capacity requisite for the reception of the
clear knowledge of God. This knowledge is not of this life,
for we must either die, or remain without it. Thus God said
to Moses, ‘ Man shall not see me and live.’§ And S. John
saith the same, ‘No man hath seen God at any time.’ ||
S. Paul, too, repeats the words of Isaias, ‘ Eye hath not seen,
* Ps, lxxxv. 8. + Ibid. Ixxvi. 14. t Tbid, cxxxvii. 6.*
§ Exod. xxxiii. 20. || S. John i. 18,
ENESS BETWEEN GOD AND CREATURES. 83
- man.’* This is the reason why Moses at the bush ‘ durst
_ not behold,’ + God being there present. He knew that his
intellect could not proportionately contemplate God, though
_ this sprung from the deep sense he had of God. Elias, our
father, covered his face on the mountain, in the presence
of God.t By that action he taught us that he made his intel-
lect blind, not venturing to apply an instrument so vile to a
_ matter so high; and that he perceived clearly, that however
-- much he saw or understood, all would be most unlike unto
God, and far distant from Him.
No knowledge, therefore, and no understanding in this
_ mortal life can serve as proximate means of this high union
_ of the love of God. All that the intellect may comprehend ;
all that the will may be satisfied with; and all that the
___ imagination may conceive, is most unlike unto God, and
j most disproportionate to Him. ‘This truth is admirably ex-
_ pressed by the Prophet: ‘To whom then have you likened
_ God? or what image will you make for Him? Hath the
_ workman cast a graven statue? or hath the goldsmith formed
_ it with gold, or the silversmith with plates of silver?’§ The
_ workman is the intellect, which fashions our knowledge, and
_ cleanses it from the iron of sensitive impressions and fancy.
_ The goldsmith is the will, which is capable of receiving the
forms and figures of pleasure caused by the gold of love where-
_ with it loves. The silversmith which cannot represent God
with plates of silver, is the memory with the imagination,
_ the notions and conceptions of which are well described as
| plates of silver. The Prophet then says, in other words:
_ The intellect, by speculation, cannot comprehend anything
_ which is like unto God; no delight or satisfaction of the will
_ can resemble that which is God; nor can the memory furnish
* 1 Cor. ii. 9; Is. Ixiv. 4. + Acts vii, 82; Ex. iii. 6.
t 3 Kings xix. 13. § Is. xl. 18, 19.
- nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of cmap,
Quis sicut
Deus ?
BOOK —
om
8. But the in-
S. Dionysius.
Aristotle.
84 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
the imagination with any notions or images to represent
Him. It is evident, then, from this that the intellect cannot
be immediately directed in the way of God by any know-
ledge such as this, and that, if it is to draw near unto God, ~
it must do so by not understanding rather than by seeking
to understand ; yea, rather it must be by making itself blind,
covering itself with darkness, and not by opening its eyes,
that it can attain to the Divine enlightening. Hence it is
that Contemplation, by which God enlightens the intellect,
is called Mystical Theology, that is, the secret Wisdom of
God, because it is a secret even to the intellect which receives
it. §. Dionysius calls it a ray of darkness. And the prophet
Baruch thus speaks of it: ‘The way of wisdom they have
not known, neither have they remembered her paths.* It
is therefore clear that the intellect must be blind, as to every
path along which it has to travel, in order to be united with
God.
Aristotle says, that as the eyes of the bat are with regard
to the sun, which wholly blinds them, so is our intellect with
regard to the greater Light of God which is to us perfect
darkness. He further says, that the more profound and
the clearer the things of God are in themselves, the less
intelligible and the more obscure they are to us. The
Apostle says the same thing, when he teaches us that the
deep things of God are not known unto men. I should
never end were I to bring forward here all the authorities
and reasons which show that, among all created things of
which the intellect takes cognisance, there is nothing which
can serve as a ladder whereby it may ascend unto God,
who is so high. Yea, rather we must acknowledge that all
and each of these things, if the intellect will use them as
proximate means of union, will prove not only a hindrance,
* Baruch iii, 23.
> -~ -yaeees ~,
FAITH UNITES THE SOUL TO GOD. 85
but the source of many errors and delusions, in the ascent
of this mountain.
CHAPTER IX.
Faith is the proximate and proportionate means of the intellect by which
the soul may attain to the Divine union of love. Proofs from the
Holy Scriptures,
It appears then from what I have written that the intellect,
if rightly disposed for the Divine union, must be pure, and
empty of all sensible objects, disengaged from all clear intel-
lectual perceptions, interiorly tranquil and at rest, reposing
on Faith; for faith is the sole proximate and proportionate
means of the soul’s union with God, seeing that there is no
other alternative, but that God is either seen, or believed in.
For as God is infinite, so faith proposes Him as infinite ; and
as He is Three and One, so faith proposes Him to us as Three
and One. And thus by this means alone, that is faith, God
manifests Himself to the soul in the Divine light, which
surpasses all understanding, and therefore the greater the
faith of the soul the more is that soul united to God. This
is the meaning of S. Paul when he said, *‘ He that cometh to
God must believe that He is.* Such an one must walk by
faith, with his understanding in darkness, and in the obscurity
of faith only ; for in this darkness God unites Himself to the
intellect, being Himself hidden beneath it, as it is written:
‘Darkness was under His feet, and He ascended upon the
cherubim, and He flew upon the wings of the winds. And
He made darkness His covert, His pavilion round about
Him, dark waters in the clouds of the air.’"} The darkness
‘under His feet,’ serving for ‘ His covert’ and ‘ His pavilion,’
and ‘the dark waters,’ signify the obscurity of faith, which
* Hebr. xi. 6, + Ps, xvii, 10—12,
CHAP,
Vill.
BOOK
TI.
86 ‘THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
conceals Him. His ‘ascending on the cherubim,’ and His
——— flying ‘on the wings of the winds,’ signify that He transcends
In this life
the intellect
can know
God only in
the obscurity
of Faith. Il-
lustrated by
the history of
Solomon,
~ Moses,
Job,
Gideon,
all understanding. The ‘ cherubim’ mean those who under-
stand or contemplate; the ‘wings of the winds’ are the
sublime and lofty notions or conceptions of the mind, above
which His Divine Being is, and which no man can ever
comprehend.
This truth is shadowed forth in the Holy Scriptures, where
we read that, when Solomon had finished the Temple, God
came down in a cloud, which filled it, so that the people
could not see. ‘Then Solomon said: The Lord said that He
would dwell in a cloud.’* Moses also, on the mount, saw a
cloud wherein God was hidden.t And at all times, when
God communicated with men, He appeared through a cloud. ~
We read in the Book of Job, that God spoke out of the
darkened air: ‘The Lord answered Job out of a whirl-
wind.’{ These clouds signify the obscurity of faith, in which
God is hidden when He communicates Himself to the soul.
This will be removed at that time to which 8. Paul referred
when he said, ‘When that which is perfect is come, that
which is in part shall be done away;’§ when ‘that which is
in part,’ the obscurity of faith, shall be done away, and
when ‘that which is perfect,’ the Divine light, shall come. —
This is prefigured in the army of Gideon: the soldiers had
lamps in their hands, which they saw not, because they were
‘within the pitchers.’ _ But when they had broken the
pitchers the lamps gave light. Gideon ‘gave them trumpets
in their hands, and empty pitchers, and lamps within the
pitchers.’|| So faith, of which these pitchers were a figure,
contains the Divine light, that is, the Truth which God is;
and at the end of this mortal life, when the work of faith is
-* 3 Kings viii. 10—12. + Exod. xix.9, { Job xxxviii.1; xl 1.
§ 1 Cor, xiii. 10, || Judg. vii. 16,
b + God on then shine forth.
_ It is therefore plain that the soul, which would in this life
Ried ‘ith God: dnd ccmoume: inimeiiately with: His;
must unite itself to Him in. the cloud where, according to
Solomon, He has promised to dwell; and in the obscure air,
wherein He was pleased to reveal His secrets to Job; and take
3 up the pitchers of Gideon, that it may hold in its hands,
in the acts of the will, that light which is the union of love—
though in the obscurity of faith—so that, as soon as the
pitcher of life be broken, it may see God face to face in
glory.
It remains for me now to describe particularly those
notions and apprehensions which the intellect admits; the
hindrance and the injury they may inflict upon us in the
way of faith ; and how the soul must be disposed with respect
to them, so that they may be profitable rather than hurtful,
both those which proceed from the sense as well as those
which proceed from the spirit.
CHAPTER X.
The divisions of the apprehensions and acts of the intellect.
In order to describe specially the profit and the loss, which
the notions and apprehensions of the intellect occasion in the 1
soul with respect to Faith, the means of this Divine union,
hensions, natural and supernatural, so that the intellect may
be directed with greater accuracy into the night and obscu-
rity of faith. This I shall do with the utmost brevity
possible.
There are two ways by which these notions and intelligent
it is necessary to distinguish here between all these appre- tural.
88 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
(2) Obscure ;
i.e. The Con-
templation of
Faith,
First source
of superna-
tural corpo-
real know-
ledge,—sensi-
tive percep-
tion.
acts enter into the understanding: one is natural, the other
supernatural. The first includes all the means by which the
intellect receives knowledge, whether through the channel of
the bodily senses, or by reflection. The second comprises
all that is beyond the natural powers and capacity of the
. intellect. Some supernatural knowledge is corporeal, and
some spiritual. The former is of two kinds: one of them
enters the intellect through the exterior bodily senses; and
the other through the interior bodily senses, comprehending
all that the imagination may grasp, form, and conceive. The
spiritual supernatural knowledge is also of two kinds; one
distinct and special; the other confused, obscure, and general.
The first kind comprises four particular apprehensions, com-
municated to the mind without the intervention of any one
of the bodily senses. These are visions, revelations, interior
voices, and spiritual impressions. The second kind, which is
obscure and general, has but one form, that of contemplation,
which is the work of faith. The soul is to be led into this
by directing it thereto through all the rest. I shall begin
my instructions with the first of these, showing how the soul
is to be detached from them.
CHAPTER XI.
Of the hurt and hindrance resulting from intellectual apprehensions
supernaturally produced through the instrumentality of the exterior
senses. How the soul is to be guided under such circumstances.
Tue first notions, mentioned in the foregoing chapter, are
those which relate to the intellect in the order of nature. I
shall not-speak of them now, because I have discussed them
in the first book, while showing how the soul is to be led
into the night of sense, where I have given fitting directions
concerning them. And therefore the subject of the present
| THE SENSES AFFECTED SUPERNATURALLY. 89
chapter will be those notions and apprehensions which relate
to the intellect solely in the supernatural order, in the way
of the outward bodily senses of seeing, hearing, tasting,
smelling, and touching. With respect to these, spiritual men
are occasionally liable to representations and objects, set
before them in a supernatural way. They sometimes see
the forms and figures of those of another life, Saints, or
Angels good and evil, or certain extraordinary lights and
brightness. They hear strange words, sometimes seeing those
who utter them, and sometimes not. They have a sensible
perception at times of most sweet odours, without knowing
whence they proceed. Their sense of taste is also deliciously
affected; and that of the touch so sweetly caressed at times
that the bones and the marrow exult and rejoice, bathed, as
it were, in joy. This delight is like to that which we call
the Union of the Spirit, flowing from Him through all the
senses of simple souls. And this sensible sweetness is
wont to affect spiritual persons, because of that sensible
devotion, more or less, which they feel, every one in his own
measure.
Still, though the bodily senses may be thus affected in
the way of God, we must never rely on these emotions, nor
encourage them; yea, rather we must fly from them, without
examining whether they be good or evil. For, inasmuch as
they are exterior and in the body, there is the less certainty
of their being from God. It is more natural that God
should communicate Himself through the spirit — wherein
there is greater security and profit for the soul — than
through the senses, wherein there is usually much danger
and delusion, because the bodily sense decides upon, and
judges, spiritual things, thinking them to be what itself feels
them to be, when in reality they are as different as body
and soul, sensuality and reason. The bodily sense is as
ignorant of spiritual things, as a beast of the field is of the
Reasons for
repelling
them,
1. Less like-
lihood of
their being
from God,
4, Loss of
Faith as a
guide,
5. Subtlety of
Pride.
¥
90 _ THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
things of reason. He who makes much of these emotions
mistakes his way, and exposes himself to the great danger
of delusions; and, at least, places a great obstacle on his
road to true spirituality. For all these bodily sensations
bear no proportion to spiritual things.
There is always ground for fear that these proceed from the
devil rather than from God; for the devil has more influence
in that which is exterior and corporeal, and can more easily
deceive us therein than in what is more interior. And these
bodily forms and objects, the more exterior they are, the less
do they profit the interior spiritual man, by reason of the great
distance and disproportion subsisting between the corporeal
and the spiritual. For, although these things communicate
some spirituality, as is always the case when they proceed from
God, yet it is much less than it would have been, had they
been more spiritual and interior; and thus they become more
easily and readily occasions of error, presumption, and vanity.
As they are so palpable and so material they excite the senses
greatly, and the soul is led to consider them the more
important, the more they are felt. It runs after them and
abandons the secure guidance of Faith, thinking that the
light they give is a guide and means to that which it desires,
union with God. Thus the soul, the more it makes of such
things, the more it strays from the perfect way and means,
that is, Faith. Besides, when the soul perceives itself subject
to these extraordinary visitations, self-esteem very frequently
enters in, and it thinks itself to be something in the eyes of
God, which is contrary to humility. The devil also knows
too well how to insinuate into the soul a secret, and some-
times an open, self-satisfaction. For this end he frequently
presents to the eyes the forms of Saints, and most beau-
tiful lights; he causes voices well dissembled to strike the
ear, and delicious odours the smell; he produces sweetness
in the mouth, and thrills of pleasure in the sense of touch;
91
and all to make us long for such things that he may lead
us astray into many evils.
For this reason, then, we must always reject and disregard
these representations and sensations. For even if some of
them were from God, no wrong is offered to Him, because },
the effect and fruit, which He desires to bring forth in the
soul, is not the less accomplished when that soul rejects them
and seeks them not. The reason is this: all corporeal visions
or emotions of the senses—the same is true of all other
interior communications — if from God, effect their chief
object at the moment of their presence, before the soul has
time to deliberate whether it shall entertain or reject them.
For as God begins them in a supernatural way without
effort on the part of the soul, and without respect to any
capacity for them; so the effect, which He desires to produce
by means of them, is wrought without reference to any effort
or capacity of the soul; for it is perfected and brought to
pass in the spirit passively without its free consent, and
therefore does not depend on the will in any way. It is as
if a person quite naked came into contact with fire: it
matters not whether he wills to be burned or not, the fire
necessarily performs its own proper functions.
This is the case with good visions and apparitions: even if
the soul wills it not, they produce their effects, chiefly and
specially in the soul rather than in the body. So also the
visions, which are the work of the devil — without the con-
sent of the soul — bring forth trouble or dryness of spirit,
vanity, or presumption, although they are not so effectual
for evil, as the visions of God are for good. Diabolic visions
do not proceed beyond the primary motions, neither can
they influence the will, provided it seeks them not; and the
disquiet which they occasion does not last long, unless the
soul be negligent and irresolute when they occur. But the
visions of God penetrate into the inmost parts of the soul,
BOOK
II.
Without de-
Becomes
selfish ;
Loses their
t5
And the gifts
themselves ;
92 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
and produce their effects, a quickened zeal and overpowering
joy, which enable and dispose it to assent freely and lovingly
to good. Still, even when these outward visions and im-
pressions come from God, if the soul cleaves to them and
accepts them readily, six inconveniences follow.
1. The perfect guidance of faith is lessened; because the
experience of sense derogates from faith; for faith, as I have
said, surpasseth all sense, and thus the soul, by not closing
its eyes against every object of sense, turns away from the
means of union with God.
2. They are hindrances in the way of the spirit, if they
are not rejected; for the soul rests upon them, and does not
regard the invisible. This, too, was one of those causes,
of which our Lord spoke to His disciples, that it was ex-
pedient for them that He should go away that the Spirit
might come. Neither did He permit Mary Magdalene to
‘kiss His feet, after His resurrection, that she, as well as the
disciples in the former case, might be the more grounded in
faith.
3. The soul clings selfishly to them, and does not advance
to true resignation and detachment of spirit.
4. The soul loses the good effect of them and the interior
spirit they produce, because it has regard to the sensible part
of them, which is the least important. Thus the spirit, which
is the proper fruit, is not so abundantly received; because it
is most deeply impressed in the soul when we deny ourselves
in all things of sense, as they are most at variance with
the pure spirit.
5. The soul loses the gifts of God, because it assumes them
for its own, and does not profit rightly by them. To assume
them for our own and not to profit by them, is to seek them
and to occupy ourselves with them. God does not send
them for this end; neither should we easily believe that
they come from God.
%
e:
~—
‘2
f
a
WN ng a ED entrap oe Fw
h., eS
oe
SATAN AS AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 93
6. The ready admission of them opens the door to the
devil, that he may deceive us by others like them; he knows
well how to dissemble and disguise his own visions so that
they shall seem to be good; for Satan transformeth himself
‘into an angel of light.’* I shall treat this question hereafter,
by the grace of God, when I come to describe spiritual
gluttony in the first book of the Obscure Night.
It is therefore expedient that the soul should close its
eyes and reject them, come they whence they may. For
unless we do so we shall make way for those of the devil, and
give him so much power over us, that not only will the evil
visions come in the place of those which are Divine, but, when
the latter cease, they will also become so numerous, that the
devil will have every influence over us, and God none, as it
has happened to many incautious and ignorant souls. They
so relied on their visions, that many of them had great
difficulty in returning to God in pureness of faith, and
many never returned at all; so widely and so deeply had
the roots of the devil grown within them. For this reason
it is good to shut our eyes against these visions and to fear
them all. By withdrawing from the evil visions we escape the
delusions of the devil; and by withdrawing from those which
are good we put no obstacles in the way of faith, and the
_ spirit still derives fruit from them.
When the soul gives admission readily to these visions
God withholds them, because it cleaves to them and does
not duly profit by them; the devil also insinuates himself
and multiplies his own visions, because the soul makes room
for them. But when the soul is resigned and not attached
to such visions the devil retires, seeing that he cannot injure
us then; and, on the other hand, God multiplies His graces
in the humble and detached soul, placing it over many
* 2 Cor, xi. 14,
94 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
spook things, like the good and faithful servant to whom it is said,
‘Because thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will
place thee over many things.’* The soul that is faithful
amid these visitations God will not leave, till He shall raise
it upsstep by step, to the Divine union and transforma-
tion. This is the way our Lord tests and elevates the soul :
He visits it first in the senses according to its capacity; so
that, having conducted itself then as it ought to do, receiving
in all temperance these first morsels for its own strength
and nourishment, He may admit it to the better and more
abundant feast. If the soul shall overcome the devil in the first
combat it shall then pass on to the second; and if it shall be
victorious there also, it shall then pass on to the third; and
then through the seven mansions, the seven degrees of ‘love,
until the Bridegroom shall bring it to ‘ the cellar of wine’ f
of perfect Charity.
The spiritual Blessed is that soul which knoweth how to fight against
the beast with seven heads,{ which he opposes to the seven
degrees of love. The beast fighteth against each of these
degrees with his seven heads; and with each one of them
against the soul in all the seven mansions, wherein the
soul is tried and gains each degree of the love of God.
And, beyond all doubt, if the soul shall faithfully fight
against every one of these heads and obtain the victory, it
will deserve to pass on from one degree to another, or from
one mansion to the next, until it shall have reached the
highest, having destroyed the seven heads by which the beast
waged so furious a war against it. So fearful is this war that
the Apostle says, ‘It was given unto him to make war with
the Saints and to overcome them,’§ arraying his weapons and
munitions of war over against each of these degrees of love,
enteus
Penn
* S. Matth. xxy. 21. t Cant. ii. 4. iH
t Apoc. xiii. 1. Bee arog § Ibid. 7.
ee? i Ye ae ee
af fe are ey ‘ 7 i i +
‘RNATURAL SENSATIONS NOT MEANS OF UNION. 95
ro Many, alas, there are who enter the battle of the spiritual omar.
life against the beast, who do not cut off even the first head,
_ py self-denial in the sensible objects of this world. Others,
- more successful, cut off the first, but not the second —the
visions of sense—of which I am speaking. But what is more
painful still is, that some who, having cut off not only the
first and second, but the third head also, which relates to the
interior senses and the passage from the state of meditation
into a higher one, are overcome by the beast, when ‘they
should enter into the purity of the spirit. Then it is that he
returns to the assault with his heads restored to life, and
renders ‘ their latter state worse than the first,’ for he bringeth
with him ‘seven other spirits more wicked than himself.’* The
spiritual man must therefore reject all these apprehensions,
together with the corporeal satisfactions to which the exterior
senses are liable, if he will destroy the first and second head
of this beast, by entering into the first and second mansion
of love by a living faith, not laying hold of, nor being em-
barrassed by, the impressions of the exterior senses; for these
present the greatest impediment to the spiritual night of
Faith.
; It is now clear that these visions and apprehensions of
__ sense cannot be the means of the Divine union, for they bear
no proportion to God. And this is one of the reasons why
_ Christ would not suffer Mary Magdalene to touch Him, and
: yet allowed it, as the better and more perfect course, in
_§. Thomas. The devil greatly rejoices when a soul seeks
after revelations and is ready to accept them; for such
_ conduct furnishes him with many opportunities of insinuating
_ delusions, and derogating from faith as much as he possibly
ean; for such a soul becomes rough and rude, and falls fre-
quently into many temptations and unseemly habits.
* §. Luke xi, 26.
96 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK I have dwelt at some length on these exterior communi-
- cations in order to throw greater light on the others, which I
have soon to discuss. But I have so much to say’on this
Conclusion. Matter that it appears impossible to have done with it. I
might sum up what I have said in this single sentence ; that
these visions should never be admitted, unless in certain rare
instances, after examination by a learned, spiritual, and experi-
enced director, and even then there must be no desire for them.
CHAPTER XII.
Of natural and imaginary apprehensions. Their nature. They cannot
be proportionate means of union. The evil results of not knowing
how to detach oneself from them in time.
Secondsource BEFORE discussing the imaginary visions which are wont to
knowledge be represented supernaturally to the interior sense, the
eae. imagination and the fancy, it is expedient that I should now
—to proceed orderly—speak of the natural apprehensions
incident to the same interior bodily sense. I adopt this
course that we may advance from the less to the greater—
from that which is more outward to that which is more
inward—to that most interior recollection wherein the soul is
united unto God. This too is the course I have hitherto
observed. In the first place, I treated of the detachment of
the soul from the natural apprehensions of exterior objects,
and, consequently, from the natural powers of the desires.
This I did in the first book, while speaking of the night of
sense. I then treated in detail of detachment from exterior
supernatural apprehensions, to which the exterior senses are
liable — as in the preceding chapter — so that I may guide
the steps of the soul into the night of the spirit in this second
book.
Now the first subject of discussion is the interior bodily
MEDITATION BY IMAGINATION AND REFLECTION. 97
sense, the imagination and fancy, out of which we must cast
all imaginary forms and apprehensions naturally incident
thereto, and show how impossible it is for the soul to attain
to inion with God until their operations shall have ceased,
because they can never be the proper and proximate means
of union.
The senses of which I am now speaking particularly are
| two, bodily and interior, called imagination and fancy,
which in their order subserve each other. In the one there
is something of reasoning, though imperfect and in an
imperfect way; the other, the imagination, forms the image.
For our purpose the discussion of either is equivalent to that
of the other, and therefore when I do not mention them both
let it be understood that what is said of the one is applicable
to the other also, and that I am speaking indifferently of
both, without distinguishing between them.
All, therefore, that the senses perceive and fashion are
called imaginations and fancies—that is, forms represented to
_ the senses in bodily shape and likeness. These may take
i" place in two ways—supernaturally when, without the action
of the senses, they may and do become present passively
before them. These are imaginary visions wrought super-
naturally, of which I shall speak hereafter. The other way
is natural, when the senses actively effect them by their own
operation, through forms, figures, and images. These two
powers serve for meditation, which is a discursive act by
means of imagery, forms, and figures, wrought and fashioned
in the senses. We picture to ourselves Christ on the cross, or
bound to the pillar, or God sitting on His Throne in great
majesty. So also we imagine glory as a most beautiful light,
and represent before ourselves any other object, human or
Divine, of which the faculty of imagination is capable.
All these imaginations and apprehensions are to be emptied
ut of the soul, which must remain in darkness so far as it
VOL. I. H
Imagination
not a proxi-
mate, but a
remote
means of
union with
God.
Its two
sources :
1. Natural.
2. Super-
natural,
Meditation,
—what.
recombine
perceptions.
No image or
picture of
God.
98 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
concerns the senses, in order that we may attain to the
Divine union, because they bear no proportion to the proxi-
mate means of union with God; as neither do corporeal
things, the objects of the five exterior senses.
The reason is, that nothing enters the imagination but
through the exterior senses. The eye must have seen, or the ear
must have heard, or the other senses must first have become
cognisant of all that isin it. Or at the utmost, we can only
form pictures of what we have seen, heard, or felt; and these
forms are not more excellent than what the. imagination has
received through the senses. Though we picture in our
imagination palaces of pearls and mountains of gold, because
we have seen gold and pearls, yet after all this is nothing
more than one piece of gold or a single pearl, even though
the imagination ranges them in a certain order. And as all
created things cannot have any proportion with the Being of
God, it follows that all the conceptions of the imagination,
which must resemble them, cannot serve as proximate means
of union with Him. Those persons, therefore, who represent
God to their minds under any sort of figure, or as a great fire
or light, or anything else, thinking Him to be like them, are
very far from drawing near unto Him. For though such
considerations, forms, and methods of meditation may be
necessary for beginners, in order to inflame and fill their
souls with love, through the instrumentality of sense, as I
shall explain hereafter—and though they may serve as remote
means of union, through which souls must usually pass to the
goal and resting-place of spiritual repose—-still they must
so make use of them as to pass beyond them, and not dwell
upon them for ever.
If we dwell upon them we shall never reach the goal, which
is not like the remote means, neither has it any proximate
relation with them. Thé steps of a ladder have no proximate
relation with the goal and place to which we ascend by it,
PURE CONTEMPLATION THE END OF PRAYER. 99
towards which they are but means; so if he who climbs does
not leave behind all the steps so that none remain, or if he
rests upon one of them, he will never ascend to the summit,
to the peaceful resting of the goal. The soul, therefore, that
will ascend in this life to the Supreme Good and Rest must
pass beyond all these steps of considerations, forms, and
notions, because they bear no likeness or proportion to the
end, which is God, towards which it tends. ‘We must not
suppose,’ saith the Apostle, ‘ the Divinity to be like unto gold,
or silver, or stone, the graving of art and device of man.’*
Great, therefore, is the mistake of those spiritual persons
who, having laboured to draw near unto God by means of
imagery, forms, and meditations, such as become beginners—
while God would attract them to more spiritual, interior, and
unseen good, by depriving them of the sweetness of discursive
meditation—do not accept the guidance, neither venture nor
know how to detach themselves from these palpable methods
to which they have been accustomed. They retain these
methods still, seeking to advance by them and by meditation
upon exterior forms, as before, thinking that it must be so
always. They take great pains in the matter, but find very
little sweetness or none—yea, rather dryness, weariness, and
disquiet of soul increase and grow the more they search after
the sweetness they had before—it being now impossible for
_ them to have it as they had it at first. The soul has no more
_ pleasure in its first food, which was of the senses, but requires
' another of greater delicacy, interior, and less cognisable by
_ the senses, consisting, not in the travail of the imagination,
but in the repose of the soul, and in that quietness thereof,
which is more spiritual. The more the soul advances in
_ spirituality, the more it ceases from the operations of its
_ faculties on particular objects; for it then gives itself up to
* Acts xvii. 29.
H 2
Imagination
useful for
ers.
100 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL. 3
BOOK one sole, pure, and general act; and so its powers cease from
—— the practice of that method by which they once travelled
towards the point to which the soul was tending; as the feet
cease from movement and are at rest when the journey is
over; for if all were movement, there would be no goal to
reach, and if all things are means, where or when shall we
enjoy the end?
ene How sad it is to see men who, when the soul would be at
eNinearge peace in the repose of interior quiet, where God fills it with
Siri, | refreshment and peace, disturb it, draw it away to outward
things, compel it to travel again along the road it had passed,
and to abandon the goal, where it reposes, for the sake of
the means and considerations which guided it to its rest.
This is not effected without loathing and repugnance on the
part of the soul, which would repose in this tranquillity as
in its proper place—as it happens to him who after toil-
some labour has attained repose; for when he is made to
return to his work he feels it painfully. And as they do not
understand the secret of their new condition, they imagine
themselves to be idle, doing nothing; and so do not ‘suffer
themselves to be at rest, but strive to reproduce their former
reflections and discursive acts. They are therefore full of
dryness and trouble, because they seek there for sweetness
where there is no longer sweetness for them. To them the
proverb applies, ‘the more it freezes the more it binds ;’ the
more obstinately they cling to this way the worse it becomes
for them, because they lead their soul further away from
spiritual peace. This is to abandon what.is greatest for
what is least, to travel backwards along the road they came,
and do again what they have done before.
To these my counsel is—learn to abide with attention in
loving waiting upon God in the state of quiet; give no heed
to your imagination, nor to its operations, for now, as I have
said, the powers of the soul are at rest, and are not exercised,
a mee! ~~ Fs
Sa de Li
'
(hea
aR ETS
eS = —s
Aras as
SIGNS OF PROGRESS IN PRAYER. 101
except in the sweet and pure waiting of love. If at times
they are excited, it is not violently, nor with meditation
elaborately prepared, but by the sweetness of love, more
under the influence of God than by the ability of the soul, as
I shall hereafter clearly explain.
Let this, for the present, suffice to show how necessary it is
for those who would make progress, to abandon these methods
and ways of the imagination at the proper time, when their
growth, in that state wherein they are, requires it. And that
we may know when this time is come, I shall describe certain
signs which the spiritual man is to observe, that he may
thereby recognise the time when he may freely avail himself
of the goal already mentioned, and leave behind him all
intellectual reflections and all the acts of the imagination.
CHAPTER XIII.
The signs to be observed by the spiritual man that he may know when
to withdraw the intellect from imaginary forms and discursive medi-
tations.
To avoid confusion in my teaching, I find it necessary in this
chapter to explain when the spiritual man should abstain
from the meditation which rests on imaginary forms and
mental representations, in order that he may not abstain
from it sooner or later than the Spirit calls him. For as it
is necessary to abstain from it at the proper time, in order to
draw near unto God, that we may not be hindered by it; so
also must we not cease from it before the time, lest we go
backwards: for though all that the powers of the soul may
apprehend cannot be proximate means of union for those
who have made some spiritual progress, still they serve,
as remote means, to dispose and habituate the minds of
beginners to that which is spiritual by means of the senses,
and to clear the way of all other low forms and images,
When should
Meditation
give place to
Contempla-
tion ?
BOOK
x,
Answer,—
By observing
three signs.
‘a; f
ae 0
2. No play of
Sneination.
102 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
temporal, worldly, and natural. With this view I will
mention here certain signs and evidences, three in number,
by observing which the spiritual man may know whether the
time is come for him to cease from meditation or not.
1. When he finds that he cannot meditate nor exert his
imagination, nor derive any satisfaction from it, as he was
wont to do—when he finds dryness there, where he was
accustomed to fix the senses and draw forth sweetness—then
the time is come. But while he finds sweetness, and is able
to meditate as usual, let him not cease therefrom, except
when his soul is in peace, of which I shall speak when
describing the third sign.
2. When he sees that he has no inclination to fix the
imagination or the senses on particular objects, exterior or
_ interior. I do not mean when the imagination neither comes
3. Desire of
repose in
God.
Cautions.
nor goes—for it is disorderly even in the most complete self-
recollection—but only when the soul derives no pleasure
from tying it down deliberately to other matters.
3. The third sign is the most certain of the three, namely,
when the soul delights to be alone, waiting lovingly on
God, without any particular considerations, in interior peace,
quiet, and repose, when the acts and exercises of the in-
tellect, memory, and will, at least discursively—which is the
going from one subject to another—have ceased; nothing
remaining except that knowledge and attention, general and
loving, of which I have spoken, without the particular per-
ception of aught else.
The spiritual man must have observed these three signs
together, at least, before he can venture with safety to
abandon the state of meditation for that of the way of
spiritual contemplation. It is not enough for him to observe
the first without the second, for it may happen that he
cannot meditate on the things of God, as before, because
of distractions and the absence of due preparation. He must
“rox ee come pean. 108
a —- have regard to the second sign, and see whether he
has no inclination or desire to think of other things. For
_ when this inability to fix the imagination and the senses on
_ the things of God proceeds from distraction or lukewarm-
ness, the soul readily inclines to other matters, and these
lead it away from God.
4 _ Neither is it sufficient to have observed the first and second
sign if we do not also discern the third. For though we cannot
_ meditate or think on the things of God, and have no pleasure
is either in dwelling upon anything else; yet this may be the
_ effect of melancholy or some other oppression of the brain or
_ the heart, which is wont to produce a certain suspension of
_ our faculties, so that we think upon nothing, nor desire to
in a kind of soothing astonishment. By way of defence
against this, we must be sure of the third sign, which is a
loving knowledge and attention in peace, as I have said. It
is, however, true that in the commencement of this estate
_ this loving knowledge is, as it were, imperceptible, because
_ it is then wont to be, in the first place, most subtile and
delicate, and as it were, unfelt; and because, in the second
4 place, the soul, having been accustomed to meditation, which
is more cognisable by sense, does not perceive, and, as it
_ were, does not feel this new condition, not subject to sense,
5 and which is purely spiritual.
This is the case especially when, through not understand-
ing his condition, the spiritual man will not allow himself to
_ rest therein, but will strive after that which is cognisable by
sense. This striving, notwithstanding the abundance of
_ loving interior peace, disturbs him in the consciousness
and enjoyment of it. But the more the soul is disposed for
“this tranquillity, the more will it grow therein continually ;
and the more conscious it will be of this general loving
knowledge of God, which is sweeter to it than all besides,
do so, nor have any inclination thereto, but rather remain
fo TS Se ele a
ers}! a eye a
pry
J
BOOK
Il.
104 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
because it brings with it peace and rest, sweetness and delight
’ without trouble. To make this matter more clear, I shall
Two reasons
for the first
sign,
1, No plea-
sure, no
profit.
2. End ate
tained, the
means cease,
explain in the following chapter why these signs are neces-
sary for the direction of the soul.
CHAPTER XIV.
The fitness of these signs.
The necessity of observing them for spiritual progress.
As to the first sign, it is to be observed that there are two
reasons, comprised as it were in one, why the spiritual man
— if he is to enter on the life of the spirit, which is that of
contemplation — must abandon the way of the imagination
and sensible meditation, when he has no pleasure in it and is
no longer able to make his wonted discourse. The first is,
that all the spiritual good to be found, by way of meditation
in the things of God, has been already in a manner bestowed
upon him. This is shown by the fact that he cannot now
make his former meditations and reflections, and that he has
no pleasure or satisfaction therein as he had before, because
he had not then attained to the spiritual life. And, in
general, whenever the soul receives a fresh spiritual grace it
receives it with pleasure, at least in spirit, in the means
whereby it comes, and it profits by it; otherwise its profiting
would be miraculous. This is in accordance with the philo-
sophical saying, What is palatable nourishes; and also with
the words of Job, ‘Can an unsavoury thing be eaten that is
not seasoned with salt ?’* The reason, then, why meditation
is no longer possible, is the little pleasure and profit which
the mind now derives from it.
y% The second reason is this: the soul has now attained
substantially and habitually to the spirit of meditation. For
the end of meditation and reflection on the things of God
* Job vi. 6.
~~ HABrrUAL ELEVATION OF THE SOUL TO GOD. 105
is to elicit the knowledge and the love of Him. Each time
the soul elicits this, it is an act, and as acts often repeated
produce habits, so, many acts of loving knowledge con-
tinuously elicited by the soul, beget the habit thereof in the
course of time. God is wont at times to effect this without
these acts of meditation — at least without many of them —
leading souls at once into the state of contemplation. Thus,
what the soul elicited before, at intervals, by dint of medita-
tion, in particular acts of knowledge, is now by practice
converted into the habit and substance of knowledge, loving,
general, not distinct or particular, as before. And, there-
_ fore, such a soul betaking itself to prayer —like a man with
water before him — drinks sweetly without effort, without
the necessity of drawing it through the channel of previous
reflections, forms, and figures. And the moment such a soul
places itself in the presence of God, it elicits an act of know-
ledge, confused, loving, peaceful, and tranquil, wherein it
drinks in wisdom, love, and sweetness.
This is the reason why the soul is troubled and disgusted
when compelled, in this state, to make meditations and to
labour after particular acts of knowledge. Its condition,
then, is like that of an infant at the breast, withdrawn from
it while it was sucking it, and bidden to procure its nourish-
ment by efforts of its own ; or of one who, having removed the
rind, is tasting the fruit it contained, and is bidden to cease
therefrom and to peel away the rind already removed, and
then finds no rind and loses the fruit he had in his hand —like
one who loses a prize already in his power. This is the case
with many who have begun to enter upon this state. They
think that the whole matter consists in discursive meditations,
_ in the understanding of particulars by means of forms and
images, which are the rind of the spiritual life. When they
do not find these in that loving and substantial quiet, where
the soul desires to dwell, and where nothing distinct reaches
aie
106 ; THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK the intellect, they suppose themselves to be going astray,
~- wasting their time, and so go in quest of the rind of images
-and discursive meditation, not now to be found, because
long ago taken away. Thus they do not enjoy the sub-
stance, neither can they meditate; and so they vex them-
selves, thinking that they are going backwards, and that
they are lost. This is certainly true, but not in the way
they mean: they are lost to their own sense, to their first
perceptions and understanding, which is nothing else but to
gain the spiritual life which is given unto them; for the less
~ they understand, the further do they enter into the night of
the spirit, through which they have to pass in order to be
united with God, in a way that surpasses all understanding.
_ Secondsign. ۤ There is but little for me to say of the second sign,
| because it is evident that the soul has necessarily no plea-
sure at that time in other imaginary representations, those
of the world, seeing that it has none, for the reasons already:
given, in those which are most befitting it, as those of the
Involnntary things of God. Only, as I have said before, the imaginative
painful. faculty, in this state of recollection, is wont to come, and
go, and vary, but without the consent of the soul and without
giving it any pleasure; yea, rather, the soul is then afflicted
thereby, because of the interruption of its peace and sweet-
ness.
Third sign. Nor do I think it necessary here to speak at all of the
fitness and necessity of the third sign, whereby we may
discern when we are to cease from meditation. That sign is
a knowledge of, and attention to, God, general and loving.
I have explained this in some degree while speaking of the
first sign; and I have to treat of it again directly, when I
speak of that general, confused knowledge, after discussing
the particular apprehensions of the intellect. But I propose
now to mention one reason only, which will make it clear
why this attention, or general loving knowledge of God, is
107
necessary, when the spiritual man passes from the state of
meditation to that of contemplation.
That reason is this: if the soul were without this knowledge
or sense of God’s presence at that time, the result would be
that it would have nothing, and do nothing ; for having ceased
_ from meditation, wherein the soul acts discursively, by means
of its intellectual faculties — and contemplation not yet
attained to, which is that general knowledge, wherein the
spiritual powers of the soul, memory, intellect, and will, are
exerted, and united in this knowledge, which is as it were
_ effected and received in them — every act of the worship of
z God must of necessity be wanting; for the soul cannot act
at all, nor receive impressions, nor persevere in the work it
has before it, but by the action of its intellectual and spiritual
faculties. It is through the intellectual faculties that the
soul reflects, searches out, and effects the knowledge of things;
and through the spiritual faculties that it rejoices in the
knowledge thus attained without further labour, search, or
reflection. The difference between these two conditions of
the soul is like the difference between working, and the
enjoyment of the fruit of our work; between receiving a
gift, and profiting by it; between the toil of travelling, and
the rest at our journey’s end; between the preparation of our
food, and the eating or enjoyment of it. ,If the soul be idle,
not occupied, either with its intellectual faculties in medita-
_ tion and reflection, or with its spiritual faculties in contem-
_ plation and pure knowledge, it is impossible to say that it
S : is occupied at all. This knowledge is therefore necessary for
_ the abandonment of the way of meditation and reflection.
But it is to be remembered that this general knowledge,
_ of which I am speaking, is at times so subtile and delicate —
‘ particularly when most pure, simple, perfect, spiritual, and
- interior-—that the soul, though in the practice thereof, is
not observant or conscious of it. This is the case when that
CHAP,
XIV.
Without
Meditation
or Contem-
plation, the
soul idle.
Contempla-
tion,—what.
—
108 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
knowledge is most pure, clear, and simple, which it is when
it enters into a soul most pure and detached from all other
acts of knowledge and special perceptions, to which the in-
tellect or the sense may cling. Such a soul, because freed
from all those things which were actually and habitually
objects of the intellect or of the sense, is not aware of them,
because the accustomed objects of sense have failed it. This
is the reason why this knowledge, when most pure, perfect,
and simple, is the less perceived by the intellect, and the
more obscure. On the other hand, when this knowledge is
less pure and simple the more clear and the more important
it seems to the intellect; because it is mixed up with, clothed
‘in, or involy_d in, certain intelligible forms, of which the in-
tellect most easily takes cognisance, to its hurt.
The following comparison will make this more intelligible.
When the rays of the sun penetrate through a crevice
into a dark room, the atmosphere of which is full of atoms
and particles of dust, they are then more palpable, and
more visible to the eye; and yet those rays are then less
pure, simple, and perfect, because mixed up with so much
impurity: also, when they are most pure and most free
from dust, the less are they cognisable by the material
eye; and the more pure they are the less are they seen
and apprehended. If, again, these rays were altogether
pure, clear of every atom, and of the minutest particle of
dust, they would be utterly invisible, by reason of the
absence of all objects whereon the eye could rest; for pure
and simple light is not properly the object of vision, but
the means whereby we discern visible things; and so, if there
be no visible objects present to reflect the light, nothing can
be seen. Hence, then, a ray of light entering in by one
crevice and going out by another, unaffected by any material
object, cannot be seen; and yet that ray is more pure and
clear than when it is most distinctly seen through being
mixed up with visible objects.
_ POWERS OF THE SOUL ABSORBED IN GOD. 109
F _ Such are the conditions of the spiritual light with regard
_ to the eye of the soul, which is the intellect, against which
this knowledge and supernatural light strikes so purely and
so plainly. So clear is it of all intelligible forms, which
are the adequate objects of the intellect, that the intellect
is not conscious of its presence. Sometimes, indeed — when
it is most pure —it creates darkness, because it withdraws
the intellect from its accustomed lights, forms, and fantasies,
and then the darkness becomes palpable and visible.
At other times, also, the Divine Light strikes the soul with
such force that the darkness is unfelt and the light unheeded ;
the soul seems unconscious of all it knows, and is therefore
lost, as it were, in forgetfulness, knowing not wiere it is, nor
what has happened to it, unaware of the lapse of time. It |
may and does occur that many hours pass while it is in this
state of forgetfulness; all seem but a moment when it again
returns to itself. The cause of this forgetfulness is the pure-
ness and simplicity of this knowledge. This knowledge,
being itself pure and clear, cleanses the soul while it fills it,
and purifies it of all the apprehensions and forms of sense
and memory through which the soul once acted, and thus
brings it to a state of forgetfulness, and unconsciousness of
the flight of time. This prayer of the soul, though in reality
long, seems to last but for a moment, because it is an act of
pure intelligence ; for it is that prayer which is said to ‘ pierce
the clouds,’* time being unheeded while it lasts: it pierces
the clouds because the soul is then in union with the heavenly
Intelligence. This knowledge leaves behind it in the soul,
when awake, all the effects it then wrought, without any
consciousness on the part of the soul that they were wrought.
These effects are the lifting up of the soul to the heavenly
Intelligence, the withdrawal and estrangement of it from
all things, and from the forms and figures of them.
* Eccles, xxxv, 21,
2. Uncon-
scious of
, and
place.
God may
suspend the
faculties of
the soul.
u
;
t
r
|
Sy
110 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Thus it befell David, who, when he returned to himself,
said, ‘I have watched, and am become as a sparrow, all
alone on the housetop.’* ‘Alone’ expresses his estrangement
and detachment from all things; and the ‘housetop’ the
lifting up of the soul on high. The soul is now, as it were,
ignorant of all things, because it knows God only, without
knowing how. The Bride also speaks of this ignorance as
one of the effects of this sleep or forgetfulness, saying, ‘I
knew not:’t that is, I knew not how. Though he to whose
soul is given this knowledge seems to be doing nothing and
to be wholly unoccupied, because*the imagination has ceased
to act, he still believes that the time has not been lost or
uselessly spent: for though the harmonious correspondence
of the powers of the soul has ceased, the understanding
thereof abides as I say. The Bride in her wisdom answers
herself this question, when she says, ‘I sleep, and my heart
watcheth :’t though I sleep in my natural state, and cease
from all exertion, my heart watcheth supernaturally, lifted
up in supernatural knowledge. <A sign by which we may
discern whether the soul is occupied in this secret intelligence
is, that it has no pleasure in the thought of anything high or
low.
Still we are not to suppose that this knowledge neces-
sarily induces this forgetfulness; the reality of it does not
depend on this. This forgetfulness occurs when God in a
special way suspends the faculties of the soul. This does
not often occur, for this knowledge does not always fill the
whole soul. It is sufficient for our purpose that the intellect
should be abstracted from all particular knowledge, whether
temporal or spiritual, and that the will should have no in-
clination to dwell upon either. This sign serves to show
that the soul is in this state of forgetfulness, when this know-
* Ps, ci. 8, + Cant. vi. 11. t Cant. v. 2.
.
a
~
ete
THE WILL ACTIVE IN CONTEMPLATION. iL
ledge is furnished and communicated to the intellect only.
But when it is communicated to the will also, which is almost
always the case in a greater or less degree, the soul cannot
but see, if it will reflect thereon, that it is occupied by this
knowledge; because it is then conscious of the sweetness of
love therein, without any particular knowledge or perception
of what it loves. This is the reason why this knowledge is
called loving and general; for as it communicates itself
obscurely to the intellect, so also to the will, infusing
therein love and sweetness confusedly, without the soul’s
knowing distinctly the object of its love. Let this suffice to
show how necessary it is for the soul to be occupied by this
knowledge, in order that it may leave the way of meditation,
and to feel assured, notwithstanding the appearance of doing
nothing, that it is well employed, if it observes the signs of
which I am speaking. It appears, also, from the illustration
drawn from the shining of the sun’s rays, full of atoms, that
the soul is not to imagine this light to be then most pure,
subtile, and clear, when it presents itself to the intellect more
palpably and more comprehensibly. For it is certain, ac-
cording to Aristotle and theologians, that the more pure and
sublime the Divine Light is, the more obscure it is to our
understanding. _
I have much to say of this Divine Knowledge, both as it is
in itself, and in its effects upon contemplatives; but I reserve
it for its proper place. The present discussion would not
have been so long had it not been requisite that the subject
should be left in somewhat less confusion than it is at present,
which I must admit to be the case. Over and above the fact
that this subject is rarely treated in this way, whether in
writing or by word of mouth, because it is in itself strange
and obscure, comes also my poor method and little know-
ledge. I am without confidence in my own capacity
to explain it, and therefore grow prolix and wearisome,
CHAP,
xIv.
3. Yet not
idle, because
conscious of
God by love.
¥
BOOK
EL:
Meditation,
—when to be
resumed,
112 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
exceeding the just limits required for the explanation of
this division of the subject. I admit that I have done this
occasionally on purpose; for a subject that cannot be ex-
plained by one view of it may be by another ; and also because
I consider that I have in this way thrown more light on
what is to follow. For this reason, in order to conclude this
part of the subject, I think I ought to solve one question
concerning the duration of this knowledge, which I propose
to do in the following chapter.
CHAPTER XY.
Of the occasional necessity of meditating and exerting the natural
faculties on the part of those who begin to enter on the contemplative
state. :
Here it may be asked, whether proficients, those whom God
has begun to lead into this supernatural knowledge of con-
templation, are, in virtue of this commencement, never again
to return to the way of meditation, reflections, and natural
forms? To this I answer, that it is not to be supposed that
those who have begun to have this pure and loving know-
ledge are never to meditate again or attempt it. For in the
beginning of their advancement the habit of this is not so
perfect as that they should be able at pleasure to perform
the acts of it. Neither‘are they so far advanced beyond the
state of meditation as to be unable to meditate and make
their reflections as before, and to find therein something new.
Yea, rather, at first, when we see, by the help of these signs,
that our soul is not occupied in this quiet, or knowledge, it
will be necessary to have recourse to reflections, until we
attain to the habit of it in some degree of perfection. Such
will be the case when, as often as we apply ourselves to
meditation, the soul reposes in this peaceful knowledge,
a
GOD THE POSSESSION OF THE POOR IN SPIRIT. 113
_ without the power or the inclination to meditate; because,
until we arrive at this, sometimes one, sometimes the: other,
oceurs in this time of proficiency in such a way that very
_ often the soul finds itself in this loving or peaceful attendance
upon God, with all its faculties in repose; and very often
also will find it necessary, for that end, to have recourse to
meditation, calmly and with moderation. But when this
_ state is attained to, meditation ceases, and the faculties labour
no more; for then we may rather say, that intelligence and
Sweetness are wrought in the soul, and that it itself abstains
_ from every effort, except only that it attends lovingly upon
_ God, without any desire to feel or see anything further than
_ to be in the hands of God, Who now communicates Himself
_ to the soul, thus passive, as the light of the sun to him
_ whose eyes are open. Only, we must take care, if we wish
_ to receive in pureness and abundance this Divine light, that
_ no other lights of knowledge, or forms, or figures of medita-
_ tions, of a more palpable kind, intervene, for nothing of this
__ kind bears any resemblance to that serene and clear light.
And therefore, if at that time we seek to apprehend and
- reflect on particular objects, however spiritual they may be,
_ we shall obstruct the pure and limpid light of the Spirit, by
_ interposing these clouds before us, as a man who should place
_ anything before his eyes impedes the vision of things beyond.
it appears, then, from all this that the soul, when it shall
“a
forms and images, will then dwell in this pure and simple
light, transformed thereto in the state of perfection. This
light is ever ready to be communicated to the soul, but does
‘not flow in, because of the forms and veils of the creature
which infold and embarrass the soul. Take away these
| hindrances and coverings, as I shall hereafter explain, and
_ the soul in detachment and poverty of spirit will then, being
pure and simple, be transformed in the pure and sincere
VOL. I. I
have purified and emptied itself from all these intelligible God, fx
BOOK
Second
means of
supernatural
corporeal
knowledge,—
Imagination.
114 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Wisdom of God who is the Son. For then that which is
natural having failed, that which is Divine flows supernaturally
into the enamoured soul; since God leaves nothing empty
that He does not fill.
When the spiritual man is unable to meditate, let him learn
to remain in loving attention to God, in the quiet of his un-
derstanding, though he may seem to be doing nothing. For
thus by little and little, and most rapidly, will the Divine
tranquillity and peace from this marvellous and deep know-
ledge of God, involved in the Divine love, be infused into his
soul. Let him not intermeddle with forms, imagery, medita-
tions, or reflections of any kind, that he may not disquiet his
soul, and drag it out of peace and contentment into that
which can only end in bitterness. And if this inactivity
should cause scruples to arise, let him remember that it is not
a slight matter to possess his soul in peace and rest, without
effort or desire. This is what our Lord requires at our hands,
saying, ‘ Be still, and see that I am God.’* Learn to be
interiorly empty of all things, and you will see with delight
that I am God.
CHAPTER XVI.
Of imaginary apprehensions supernaturally represented to the fancy.
They cannot be proximate means of union with God.
AND now having treated of those impressions which the soul
receives in the order of nature, and which exercise the
imagination and .the fancy, it is necessary to discuss those
which are supernatural, called imaginary visions, and which
also, inasmuch as they are images, forms, and figures, apper-
tain to this sense, like those which are in the order of nature.
Under the designation of imaginary visions, I include every-
* Pa, xty, 14
SUPERNATURAL INTERIOR VISIONS. 115
thing which may be supernaturally represented to the
imagination by images, forms, figures, or impressions, and
these of the most perfect kind, which represent things,
and influence us more vividly and more perfectly than it
is possible in the natural order of the senses. For all these
impressions and images which the five senses represent to the
soul, and which establish themselves within in a natural way,
may also have their place there in a way that is supernatural,
represented therein without any intervention whatever on the
part of the outward senses. The sense of fancy and memory
is, as it were, a storehouse of the intellect, where all forms
and objects of the intellect are treasured up; and thus the
intellect considers them and forms judgments about them.
We must, therefore, remember that as the five outward
senses propose and represent to the interior senses the images
and pictures of their objects; so in a supernatural way, without
the intervention of the outward senses, may be represented
the same images and pictures, and that much more vividly and
perfectly. And thus by means of images God frequently
shows many things to the soul, and teaches it wisdom, as we
see throughout the Holy Scriptures. He showed His glory in
the cloud which covered the tabernacle;* and between the
Seraphim which covered their faces and their feet with their
wings.t To Jeremias He showed ‘a rod watching;’{ and
to Daniel a multitude of visions.
The devil, also, with visions of his own, seemingly good,
labours to delude the soul. We have an instance of it in the
history of the kings of Israel, where we read that he deceived
_ the prophets of Achab, by representing to them the figure of
horns, by which the king was to push Syria till he destroyed
it.§ Yet all was a delusion. Such also was the vision of
* Exod, xl. 33, t Is. vi. 4.
} Jer. i. 11, § 3 Kings xxii. 11, 12.
12
visions,—
what.
Presented to
the mind
without sen-
sation.
May come
from the
devil,
BOOK
ies
God may
move thesoul
immediately.
116 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Pilate’s wife concerning the condemnation of Christ, and
many others.
In the case of those who have made some spiritual progress,
visions of the imagination are of more frequent occurrence
than bodily and exterior visions. There is no difference
between them and those of the outward senses, considered as
images and representations; but there is a great difference
in the effect they produce, and in their perfectness: they are
more pure, and make a deeper impression on. the soul, inas-
much as they are supernatural and at the same time more
interior than the exterior supernatural visions, still, notwith-
standing, some bodily exterior visions produce a greater effect,
for this depends on the will of God; but I am speaking of
them as they are in themselves, as being more interior.
The sense of fancy and imagination is ordinarily that to
which the devil applies himself with all his cunning, because
it is the portal of the soul, and there too the intellect takes
up, or leaves, its wares as in a repository. For this reason,
therefore, God and the devil too come hither with images and
forms to be presented to the intellect; though God does not
make use only of this means to instruct the soul, seeing that
He dwells substantially within it, and is able to do so directly
by Himself, and by other methods. I shall not stop here
to explain how it may be known whether certain visions are
from God or not, for that is not my object now, my sole
purpose being to direct the intellect, so that, in the way of
union with the Divine Wisdom, it shall not be embarrassed
or impeded by those which are good, nor deluded by those
which are evil.
I say therefore with respect to all these impressions and
imaginary visions, and others of whatever kind they may
be, which present themselves under forms or images, or any
particular intelligible forms, whether false as coming from
the devil, or known to be true as coming from God, that the
ee
IMAGINATION CANNOT PICTURE GOD. 117
intellect is not to perplex itself about them, nor feed itself
CHAP,
XVI.
upon them; the soul must not willingly accept them, nor ————
rest upon them, in order that it may be detached, naked, pure,
and sincerely simple, which is the condition of the Divine
union. The reason of this is that all these forms are never
represented so as to be laid hold of but under certain ways
and limitations, and the Divine Wisdom to which the in-
tellect: is to be united admits of no such limitations or forms,
neither can it be comprehended under any particular image,
because it is all pureness and simplicity. However, if two
extremes are to be united together, such as the soul and the
Divine Wisdom, it is necessary that they should meet under
a certain kind of mutual resemblance; and hence the soul
must be also pure and simple, unlimited, not adhering to any
particular intelligence, and unmodified by any forms, figures,
or image. As God is not comprehended under any form, or
likeness, or particular conception, so the soul also, if it is to
be united to Him, must not be under the power of any par-
ticular form or conception. God has no form or likeness, as
the Holy Ghost tells us: ‘ You heard the voice of His words,
but you saw not any form at all.’* But He also says, ¢ That
there was darkness, and a cloud, and obscurity,’ f which is the
obscure night in which the soul is united to God. He says
further on, ‘ You saw not any similitude in the day that the
Lord God spoke to you in Horeb from the midst of the
fire.’ t :
The soul can never attain to the height of the Divine
union, so far as it is possible in this life, through the medium
of any forms or figures. This truth is set before us by the
same Spirit of God in the book of Numbers, where we read
_ of the rebuking of Aaron and Mary, because they had mur-
_ mured against their brother. God then would have them
* Deut. iv. 12. + Ib. iv. 11. t Ib. iv. 15.
Two proofs
from Holy
Scripture.
118 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL. ; Bs
BOOK understand the high estate of union and friendship with Him- .
—— self to which He had raised Moses. ‘If there be among you,’
said God, ‘a prophet of the Lord, I will appear to him in
a vision, or I will speak to him in a dream; but it is not so
with My servant Moses who is most faithful in all My house,
for I speak to him mouth to mouth and plainly, and not by
riddles and figures doth he see the Lord.’* It is evident
from this, that in the high estate of the union of love, God
does not communicate Himself to the soul under the disguise
of imaginary visions, similitudes, or figures, neither is there
place for such, but mouth to mouth; that is, it is in the pure
and naked Essence of God, which is as it were the mouth of
The wil | God in love, that He communicates Himself to the pure and
Divine union naked essence of the soul, through the will which is the
mouth of the soul in the love of God.
The soul, therefore, that will ascend to this perfect union
with God, must be careful not to lean upon imaginary
visions, forms, figures, and particular intelligible objects,
for these things can never serve as proportionate or proxi-
mate means towards so great an end: yea, rather they are
an obstacle in the way, and thereforé to be guarded against
and rejected. For if in any case we are to admit these
visions and esteem them, that must be for the profit and
good effects which true visions have on the soul; but it is
not necessary, to secure these good effects, that we should
admit the visions; yea, rather it is always necessary to reject
them that we may profit the more by them. The fruit
of these imaginary visions, and also of the exterior bodily
visions, is the communication of intelligence, love, or sweet-
ness, but it is not necessary for this result that we should
admit them willingly. For as I have already said, when these
visions are present to the imagination they infuse into the
* Num, xii. 6, 7, 8.
Pe es ee ee ee re et
irk
ee
Hs
VISIONS UNPROFITABLE UNLESS REJECTED. 119
soul that intelligence, love, or sweetness, according to the
good pleasure of God; and thus the soul passively receives ————
their quickening effects without being able on its own part to
hinder them any more than it could acquire them, notwith-
standing its previous efforts to dispose itself for that end.
The soul in some respects resembles a window, which can-
not repel the rays of the sun striking against it, but which is
disposed for the reception thereof, and is passively illumi-
nated thereby, without care or effort on its own part. Thus
the soul cannot but receive the influx and communications of
these representations, because the will, negatively disposed,
cannot, in its state of humble and loving resignation, resist
the supernatural influence ; though, no doubt, its impureness
and imperfections are an impediment, as stains in the glass
obscure the light.
It is clear from this, then, that the soul, the more it is
detached in will and affections from the stains of impressions,
images, and representations, in which the spiritual communi-
cations are involved, not only does not deprive itself of these
communications, and the blessings of which they are the
cause, but is thereby the more disposed for their reception,
and that in greater abundance, clearness, liberty of spirit, and
singleness of mind; all the impressions, veils, and shadows,
which hide the deeper spirituality within, being cast aside.
If we feed upon them, sense and spirit are so filled, that
spiritual communication cannot freely and in simplicity
be made to us; for while we are occupied with the exterior
covering, the intellect is not free to receive the substance
within, If the soul will admit, and make much of, these
impressions, the result will be embarrassment, and resting
satisfied with that which is of least importance in them,
namely, with all that it can grasp and comprehend, the form,
the representation, and the particular conception. The chief
part of them, the spiritual part infused, eludes its grasp, and
Fruit of Di-
vine favours
in proportion
to detach-
ment from
them.
BOOK
Ti.
Faith better
than visions.
120 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
is beyond its comprehension; the soul cannot discern or
explain it, because it is wholly spiritual. That only can it
perceive, which is of least value, namely the sensible forms
which are within the reach of its own understanding; and
for this cause I maintain that the soul, passively, without
any intellectual effort, and without knowing how to make
any such effort, receives through these visions what it can
neither understand nor imagine.
For these reasons, therefore, the eyes of the soul must be
continually turned aside from these visible and distinctly in-
telligible things, communicated through the senses, which
form neither the foundation nor the security of Faith, and be
fixed on the invisible, not on the things of sense but on those
of the Spirit which are not cognisable by sense ; for it is this
that lifts up the soul to: union in faith which is the proper
medium. And thus these visions will subsequently profit the
soul in the attainment of faith when it shall have perfectly
renounced all that sense and intellect find in them; and when
it shall have duly applied itself to that end which God had
in view when He sent them, by detaching itself from them.
Because, as I have said before with regard to bodily visions, _
God does not send them that the soul may admit them and
set its affections upon them.
But here arises this doubt; if it be true that these super-
natural visions are sent from God, not for the purpose of
being received, clung to, and prized by the soul, why then
are they sent at all? They are the source of many errors and
dangers, and are at least inconveniences, hindering our further
advancement. This objection is specially true, for God is
able to communicate spiritually to the very substance of the
soul that which He thus communicates through the interior
senses in visions and sensible forms.
I shall reply to this doubt in the following chapter.
The doctrine on this subject is most important, and in my
NOTHING TRUSTWORTHY BUT FAITH. 121
opinion exceedingly necessary as well for spiritual persons as
for those who have the direction of them. I shall therein
explain the way of Godin them, and the end He has in view,
the ignorance of which renders many unable to control them-
selves, or to guide others through these visions along the
road of union. They imagine, the moment they have ascer-
tained the visions to be true and from God, that they may
lean upon them and cleave to them; not considering that the
soul will find in them that which is natural to itself, that it
will set its affections upon them and be embarrassed by them,
as by the things of this world, if it does not repel them as it
repels these. In this state of mind they will think it right to
accept the visions, and to reject worldly things, thereby
exposing themselves and the souls they direct to great
dangers and vexations in discerning the truth or falsehood
of these visions. God does not bid them to undertake this
labour, nor to expose simple and sincere souls to this hazard ;
for He has given them the sound and safe teaching of Faith,
whereby to direct their steps, which cannot be followed with-
out shutting our eyes against every object of sense, and
_ of clear and particular perception. §S. Peter was perfectly
certain of that vision of glory which he saw when our
Lord was transfigured, yet after relating it, he bids us walk
by faith, saying: ‘ We have the more firm prophetical word :
whereunto you do well to attend, as to a light that shineth
in a dark place. * This comparison involves the doctrine
which I am teaching. For in saying that we should look to
Faith of which the Prophets spoke, as to a light that shineth
in a dark place, he bids us remain in darkness, shutting our
eyes to all other light, and tells us that this darkness of
faith, which is also obscure, ought to be the only light to
which we should trust. For if we rely on other lights, clear
* 2S. Pet. i. 19.
BOOK
122 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
and distinct, of the understanding, we have ceased to rely on
the obscurity of faith, which has therefore ceased to shine in
the dark place of which the Apostle speaks. This place is
the intellect, which is the candlestick to hold the light of
faith. In this life, the intellect must therefore be dark, until
the day of our transformation and union with Him, towards
Whom ‘the soul is travelling; or until the day of the clear
_ Vision of God shall have dawned in the next life.
dangero
why then are
they sent ?
Answer.
Because God
observes the
natural order
which He has
made.
CHAPTER XVII.
Of the ends and way of God in communicating spiritual blessings to the
soul through the interior senses. Answer to the question proposed.
I HAVE much to say of the end which God has in view, and
of the ways He employs, when He sends visions to raise up
the soul from its tepidity to the Divine union with Himself.
This is treated of in all spiritual] books, and I shall there-
fore confine myself here to the solution of the question
before us. That question is this: Why does God Who is
most wise, and ever ready to remove every snare and every
stumbling-block from before us, send us these supernatural
visions, seeing that they are so full of danger, and so per-
plexing to us in our further progress ?
To answer this we have three principles to take for granted.
The first is thus expressed by 8. Paul: ‘Those that are, are
ordained of God.’* That is, all that is done is done accord-
ing to the ordinance of God. The second is expressed by
the Holy Ghost saying of wisdom that it ‘ordereth all
things sweetly.’ t The third is an axiom of Theology, God
moveth all things in harmony with their constitution.t Ac-
* Rom. xiii. 1. t+ Wisd. viii. 1,
{t Deus omnia movet secundum modum eorum.
Cie ce re
Dm ey ae
ee Wire ee ee gt tt
A DIVINE ORDER IN NATURE AND GRACE. 123
cording to these principles, then, it is evident that God, when
He elevates the soul from the depths of its own vileness to
the opposite heights of His own dignity in union with
Himself, worketh orderly, sweetly, and in harmony with the
constitution of the soul. As the process by which the soul
acquires knowledge rests on the forms and images of created
things, and as the mode of its understanding and perception
is that of the senses, it follows that God, in order to raise it
up to the highest knowledge, orderly and sweetly, must
begin with the lower senses, that He may thus raise it up in
harmony with its own constitution to the supreme Wisdom
of the Spirit which is not cognisable by sense. For this
reason He leads the soul first of all through forms, images,
and sensible ways, proportionate to its capacity, whether
natural or supernatural, and through reflections, upwards to
His own Supreme Spirit. This is the cause of His sending
visions and imaginary forms, and other sensible and intel-
ligible means of knowledge. Not because He would not in
an instant communicate the substance of the Spirit, pro-
vided that the two extremes, the human and Divine, that is,
sense and Spirit, were ordinarily able to meet together, and
to be united in a single act, without the previous intervention
of many disposing acts, which orderly and sweetly concur
together, one being the foundation and the preparation for
the other, as in natural operations where the first subserves
the second, that the next, and so onwards. Thus the way in
which God leads man to perfection is the way of his natural
constitution, raising him up from what is vile and exterior
to that which is interior and noble.
In the first place He perfects him in the bodily senses,
moving him to make a right use of good things which in
themselves are natural, perfect, and exterior; such as hearing
Mass and sermons, veneration of holy things, mortification
of the appetite at meals, the maceration of the body by
BOOK
Ti.
. 2. Sensible
sweetness.
3. Medita-
tion.
4. Interior
visions.
God is free
and sovereign
in dispensing
His graces.
124 - THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
penance, and the chastening of the sense of touch by holy
austerities. And when the senses are in some measure pre-
pared, God is wont to perfect them ‘still more by granting
them certain supernatural favours and consolations that they
may be confirmed the more in goodness. He sends to them
certain supernatural communications, such as visions of
Saints or of holy things in bodily form, delicious odours,
Divine locutions accompanied by a pure and singular sweet-
ness, whereby the very senses are greatly strengthened in
virtue and withdrawn from the desire of evil things. Besides,
He perfects also the interior bodily senses, the imagination
and the fancy, at the same time; accustoms them to good,
through considerations, meditations, and holy reflections,
according to the measure of their capacity, and in all teaches
and informs the mind. And when the interior senses are dis-
posed by this natural exercise, God is wont to enlighten them,
and to spiritualise them, more and more, through the instru-
mentality of certain supernatural visions, which I have called
imaginary; from which the mind at the same time derives
great profit, and through the interior and exterior visions
casts off its natural rudeness and becomes by degrees refined.
This is the way of God in elevating the soul to that which
is interior. Not that it is necessary for Him to observe this
order and succession of progress, for He occasionally effects
one degree without the other, as he sees it expedient for a par-
ticular soul, and as it pleases Him to dispense His graces; still
His ordinary way is what I have described. This is the ordinary
method of God in teaching and spiritualising the soul; He
begins by communicating to it spiritual things through things
outward, palpable, and appropriate to sense, condescending
to its weakness and the slight measure of its powers; so that
through the veil of exterior objects, in themselves good, the
mind, forming particular acts, and receiving such portions
of the spiritual communication, may acquire the habit of
spirituality and attain to the Substance of the Spirit, to which
sense is a stranger, and which the soul could never reach
but by little and little in its own way, through the senses, on
which it has always rested. And thus in proportion as it
approaches spirituality in its converse with God, does it
detach itself from, and empty itself of, the ways of sense,
that is, of reflections, meditation, and imagination. And when
it shall have attained perfectly to converse in spirit with
God, it must of necessity have emptied itself of all that
relates to that converse which falls under the cognisance of
sense.
Thus, when an object is attracted to one extreme, the more
it recedes from the other the nearer it approaches; and when
it shall have completely reached the point to which it tends,
it will then be completely withdrawn from the other. This
is the spiritual maxim so generally known: Gustato Spiritu,
desipit omnis caro. When we have tasted the sweetness of
the Spirit, all that is flesh becomes insipid ; that is, it profits
us no more, and the ways of sense are no longer pleasing.
This maxim refers to all the ways in which sense may be
employed about spiritual things. This is evident: for if a
thing be spiritual it falls not under the cognisance of the
senses, and if it be such as is comprehensible by sense, then
is it no longer purely spiritual. For the more anything is
comprehended by sense and our natural perceptions, the less
it has of the Spirit and of the supernatural.
The spiritual man, therefore, having attained to perfection,
makes no account of sense, receives nothing through it, does
not avail himself of it, neither has he any need of it in his
converse with God, as was the case before with him when
he had not received the increase of the Spirit. This is the
- meaning of S. Paul when he said: ‘When I was a child,
I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a
child. But when I became a man, I put away the things of
CHAP.
BOOK
IL
Should in-
terior visions
be rejected
even by a be-
ginner ?
Answer.
Yes.
Because they
then become ;
1. More
profitable,
126 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
a child.’* I have already said that the objects of sense and
the knowledge which results from them are the occupations
of achild. That soul which ever clings to these, and which
never detaches itself from them, will never cease to be a
child; asa child will it always speak, understand, and think
of God, because relying on the outward veil-of the senses
which is childish, it will never attain to the Substance of the
Spirit, which is the perfect-man. And so the soul ought not
to admit revelations, with a view to its own spiritual growth,
even though God should send them; for the infant must
abandon the breasts if it is to become accustomed to more
solid and substantial food.
Is it necessary then, you will ask, that the soul, in its
spiritual infancy, should accept these revelations, and abandon
them when it has grown; for the infant must seek its
nourishment at the breast to be able to leave it when the
time is come? My answer is, that with regard to medita-
tion and natural reflections, through which the soul begins
its search after God, it must not, it is true, abandon the
breast of the interior senses, to support itself, until the time
has come when it may do so. That time is come when God
raises the soul to a more spiritual converse with Himself,
which is contemplation, and of that I spoke in the thirteenth
chapter of this book. Still I maintain that these imaginary
visions or other supernatural impressions, to which the senses
are subject without the assent of the will, are, upon all occa-
sions and at all times, whether in the perfect or less perfect
state, and notwithstanding their coming from God, not to
be sought after, nor dwelt upon by the soul; and this for
two reasons : — |
First, because these visions produce their effects pas-
sively in the soul, without its being able on its own part to
* T Cor, xii, 13.
MILK FOR BABES; MEAT FOR MEN. 127
hinder them, though it may do something towards hindering
the manner of the vision; consequently the secondary effects
which it is intended to produce are much more substantially
wrought, though not in that way. For in renouncing them
with humility and fear, there is neither imperfection nor
selfishness, but rather disinterestedness and emptiness of self,
which is the best disposition for union with God.
Secondly, because we are thereby delivered from the risk
and labour of discerning between good and bad visions, and
of ascertaining whether the angel of light or of darkness is
at hand. The attempt to do so is not profitable at all, but
rather waste of time, an occasion of many imperfections and
delay on the spiritual journey. That is not the way to
direct a soul in matters which are of real importance, nor to
relieve it of the vexation of trifles which are involved in
particular apprehensions and perceptions, as I have said
with respect to bodily visions and to those of the imagina-
tion, and as I shall have to say again. Believe me, our
Lord would never have communicated the abundance of the
Spirit through these channels, so narrow, of forms and
‘figures and particular perceptions, by which, as if by
crumbs, He sustains the soul, if He had not to raise up that
soul to Himself in the way appropriate to its own constitu-
tion. This is the meaning of the Psalmist when he said:
‘ He sendeth His crystal like morsels.’* The Wisdom of God
is His crystal. How sad it is that the soul, whose capacity
is as it were infinite, should be fed by morsels through the
senses, because of its want of generosity, and because of its
sensual weakness. §. Paul also saw with grief this little-
ness of mind and absence of good spiritual dispositions,
when he said to the Corinthians: ‘And I, brethren, could
not speak to you as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal.
* Ps, exlvii. 17.
CHAP,
2. less dan-
gerous and
troublesome, —
BOOK.
Il.
Conclu-
sion,—Per-
fection con-
sists in doing
the will of
God in self-
denial, faith,
and good
works.
128 -THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
As unto little ones in Christ, I gave you milk to drink, not
meat: for you were not able as yet. But neither indeed
are you now able, for you are yet carnal.’ *
Let us, then, keep in mind that the soul must not regard
these figures and objects, which are but the rind, when
supernaturally set before it; whether occurring through the
exterior senses, as voices and words in the ear, visible visions
of the Saints and beautiful lights, odours to the smell, sweet-
ness to the palate, and other delectations of the touch, which
are wont to proceed from the Spirit; or through the interior
senses as the interior imaginary visions. These things the
soul must not regard; yea, rather it must renounce them
wholly, having its eyes fixed on that spiritual good alone
which they effect, labouring to preserve it in good works,
and employing itself in that which is purely for the service
of God without reference to these visions, and without
seeking for sensible sweetness. In this way we shall reap
from these visions that fruit only which God intends and
wills, a spirit of devotion, for that is the chief end, and none
other, for which He sends them; and we shall also pass by
that which He too would have passed by, if we could without
it have received the blessings He intends to confer, namely,
the usage and appliance of sense.
CHAPTER XVIL
How souls are injured because their spiritual directors do not guide
them aright through these visions. How these visions, though from
God, become occasions of error.
I cannot be so concise with respect to visions as I desire,
because of the abundance of the matter. And therefore,
though I have said enough, in substance, for the instruction
* 1 Cor, iii. 1, 2.
ee
DANGERS OF CREDULITY. 129
of the spiritual man, how he is to order himself when visions
occur; and also for the spiritual director who guides him,
how he is to demean himself with his penitent: I think it
not superfluous to enter further into the details of this
doctrine, and to bring into clearer light the evils that may
happen to the penitent on the one hand, and his director on
the other, should they be too credulous in the matter of
visions, even if those visions come from God. What leads
me to enlarge upon this subject, is the little discretion
which, I think, I have observed among certain spiritual
directors, who, having too great a reliance on these super-
natural impressions, because they have ascertained them to
be good and from God, have fallen, together with their
penitents, into great errors, and involved themselves in many
difficulties; thereby verifying these words of our Lord, ‘ If
the blind lead the blind, both fall into the pit.’ *
Our Lord does not say they shall fall, but they fall: for it is
not necessary for such a fall that it should be one of mani-
fest. delusion; the fall is complete in the venturing upon
such a mode of direction, and thus, at least, both the director
and the penitent fall together. There are some spiritual
directors who fall at once into error, because their instruc-
tions to those, who are liable to visions, are such as to lead
them astray or perplex them with regard to their visions; or
they do not direct them in the way of humility. They suffer
their penitents to make much of their visions, which is the
reason why they walk not according to the pure and per-
fect spirit of faith; neither do they build them up nor
strengthen them in faith, while they attach so much im-
portance to these visions.
This kind of direction shows that they themselves consider
visions matters of importance; and their penitents, observing
* S. Matt. xv. 14.
VOL. I. K
s:
How visions
are to be
treated.
BOOK
i.
Advice to
spiritual di-
rectors.
130 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
this, follow their example, dwelling upon these visions, not
building themselves up in faith; neither do they withdraw,
nor detach themselves from them, so that they may take their
flight upwards in the obscurity of faith. All this results from
the language and conduct of spiritual directors; for somehow,
a certain sense of satisfaction arises from these things—which
is not in our own control—that withdraws our eyes from
the abyss of faith. The reason why this so easily takes
place, must be that the soul is so occupied with them. For
inasmuch as they are objects of sense, to which we are
naturally inclined, and as we have had experience of them,
and are disposed for the apprehension of things distinct and
sensible; it is enough to see our confessor or any other person
appreciate them, to induce us not only to do the same, but
also to indulge our desire for them, to feed upon them un-
consciously, to be more and more inclined to them, and to
hold them in greater estimation.
This kind of direction is the source of many imperfections
at least, for the soul is no longer humble, but thinks itself
to be something good, and that God makes much of it; and
so it goes on contented and satisfied with itself, which is
contrary to humility. The devil also at once applies himself
in secret to foster this feeling, while the soul is not aware of
it, and suggests to it thoughts about other people, whether
they have these visions or not, or whether they are or are
not such as they seem to be: all this is contrary to holy
simplicity and spiritual solitude. These evils they cannot
avoid, because they do not grow in faith. Besides, if souls
do not fall into evils so palpable as these, they fall into
others of a more subtle nature, and more hateful in the eyes
of God, simply because they are not living in detachment.
For the present, I shall pursue this subject no further, as
I shall have to resume it when I have to treat of spiritual
gluttony, and the other six capital vices. Then, indeed, I
al ce he
ALL VISIONS TO BE DISREGARDED. 131
shall have much to say of these minute and subtle stains,
which defile the mind because of the failure of true direction
in detachment. I shall now speak of the method of direction
observed by some whose guidance of souls is not good. I
wish I could do this well; for, in truth, it is a difficult thing i
to explain how the mind of the penitent becomes secretly
conformed to that of his director. It appears to me that mina
we cannot understand the one without understanding the
other. Moreover, as they are spiritual things, the one cor-
responds with the other.
It seems to me—and I believe it to. be true—that, if the
spiritual director be a man who has a weakness for revela-
tions, who is impressed by them, and feels in them a sort of
pleasurable satisfaction, he must communicate, without in-
tending it, the same feelings to the mind of his penitent,
unless the latter be more advanced in ‘spirituality than he is
himself. But even if that be the case, he must do his peni-
tent grievous harm if he continues under his direction. Out
of this weakness of the director for revelations, and his satis-
faction in them, arises a certain kind of appreciation of
them, which, without the titmost care on his part, he cannot
but make manifest to his penitent ; and if the penitent have
the same inclination, in my opinion this weakness will be
increased in both by their mutual intercourse.
I will not enter into minute details on this subject, and
will therefore speak of such a director, who, whether having
a weakness for visions or not, is not so cautious in his rela-
tions with his penitent as he ought to be, so as to relieve
him of his embarrassments, and detach* him in desire from
these visions; but who on the contrary converses with him on
the subject, and makes them the chief matter of his spiritual
instructions, teaching him how to distinguish between good
visions and evil ones. Though this knowledge be good, yet
is it not right to inflict on the penitent the labour, anxiety,
K 2
132 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK and danger which it involves, unless in a case of pressing
necessity; seeing that by giving no heed to them all this is
avoided, and everything done that ought to be done. This
is hot all; for some directors, when they see that their peni-
tents have visions from God, bid them pray to Him, to
reveal to them such and such things concerning themselves
or others, and the simple souls obey them, thinking it lawful
to seek information in that way. They suppose it lawful
to desire, and even to pray for, a revelation, because it is
the good pleasure of God to reveal something to them in a
supernatural way, in a particular manner or for a particular
end. Andif God grants to them their petition, they become
more and more confident on other occasions, and imagine
God to be pleased with this mode of conversing with Him;
when in truth it is not pleasing to Him, and contrary to
His will. And if they are much given to this mode of con-
versing with God, they attach themselves to it, and the will
acquiesces naturally in it; for as this naturally pleases them,
they also naturally fall down to the level of their own per-
ceptions, and frequently err in what they say: and when
they see that events have not answered their expectations
they are astonished; and doubts assail them as to whether
their visions were from God or not, because the issues cor-
respond not with their impressions.
Rolly ot pray- They seem to have presupposed two things—the first, that
trusting in the visions came from God, because they had made so deep
an impression upon them; and this might be simply the
effect of their natural tendency to trust in visions. The
second, that as the vision came from God, so the event
ought to have answered their expectations or impressions.
This is a grand delusion, for the revelations and words of
God are not always fulfilled as man understands them, or
even in their obvious sense. We must, therefore, not rely
upon visions, nor accept them at once, even when we know
” x .
YS Ss
VISIONS, THOUGH FROM GOD, MAY DECEIVE. 133
that they are revelations, answers, or words of God. For
though they are certain and true in themselves, it is not of
necessity that they should be so in our sense, as I shall
show in the next chapter. And I shall further show also
that God, though at times supernaturally answering petitions
presented to Him, is not pleased with this, and that He is
sometimes angry, though He answers.
CHAPTER XIX.
Visions, Revelations, and Locutions, though true and from God, may
deceive. Proofs from Holy Scripture.
THERE are two reasons why Divine locutions and visions
prove untrue to us, though they are in themselves always
true and certain. The first is our defective understanding
of them, and the second depends on the cause and ground of
them: they are frequently threats, and therefore conditional,
depending for their fulfilment on penance done, or absti-
nence from particular acts; although at the same time
expressed in absolute terms. I proceed to illustrate this by
certain proofs from the Holy Writings.
In the first place, it is clear that the prophecies do
not always mean what we understand by them, and that the
issues do not correspond with our expectations. The reason
is that God is infinite and most high, and therefore His
prophecies, locutions, and revelations, involve other con-
ceptions, other meanings, widely different from those accord-
ing to which we measure our own perceptions; and they are
the more true and the more certain the less they seem so to
our intellect. We have instances of this truth in the Holy
Scriptures, where we read that many prophecies and Divine
locutions disappointed, in their fulfilment, the expectations
of many of the ancient people, because they understood them
XVIII.
First reason
why Divine
visions may
deceive,—
Misinterpre-
tation.
2. Prophecy
to Jacob.
134 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
too much according to the letter in their own way. This
will become clear if we consider the following examples.
When God had brought Abraham into the land of Chanaan,
He said unto him,‘I brought thee out from Ur of the
Chaldees to give thee this land.’* But now that God had
said this to Abraham more than once, and as the Patriarch
was old, and the land not yet his, he said unto God when
the promise was again made, ‘ Whereby may I know that I
shall possess it?’ ft Then God revealed to Abraham that it
was not he, but his children, after the lapse of four hundred
years, who were to possess the land. Abraham then under-
stood the promise, which in itself was most true: for God
by giving the land to his children, because of the love He
bore him, was giving it to him. Thus Abraham deceived
himself while he understood the promise in his own sense.
And if he had then acted on that understanding, he would
have greatly erred, for the time of fulfilment was not come.
Those, too, who saw him die before he had entered into
possession of the land, knowing the promise which God had
made him, would have been put to shame, and would have
accounted the prophecy for a false one.
Afterwards, when Jacob his grandson was going to Egypt,
whither Joseph had sent for him, because of the famine in
the land of Chanaan, God appeared to him on the way, and
said, ‘ Fear not, go down into Egypt. I will bring thee back
again from thence.’{ This prophecy was not fulfilled as we
should understand it, for the holy old man died in Egypt,
and never came back alive. That prophecy was to be fulfilled
in his descendants, whom God brought back, after many
years, being Himself their Guide. Now anyone who might
have heard of this prophecy might have been certain, that as
Jacob went down into Egypt by the grace and command of
* Gen. xv. 7. + Ib. 8. t Th. xlvi. 3, 4
DIVINE WORDS MISUNDERSTOOD BY MEN. 135
God, so would he return thence alive without fail; for the
same promise extended to his return and protection. Such
an one would have been astonished and deceived when he saw
the Patriarch die, and the events not answering to his ex-
pectation. Thus, while the promise of God was most certain,
men might deceive themselves greatly about it.
The tribes of Israel assembled together to fight against
that of Benjamin, because of a certain evil deed which that
tribe had sanctioned. God, too, appointed them a leader in the
war. Upon this they were so confident of success that, when
they were defeated with the loss of two and twenty thousand
men, they were filled with astonishment, and wept before
God, not knowing the cause of their discomfiture, for they
had understood that victory had been promised them, They
asked whether they should return to the fight; God an-
swered them, ‘Go up against them and join battle.’ They
went up the second time with great boldness, confident of
victory, but were beaten again, and eighteen thousand of
them were slain. In consequence of this they were filled
with confusion, and knew not what to do. God had com-
manded them to fight, and they were always beaten, though
they surpassed their enemies in courage and in numbers—
being themselves four hundred thousand strong, while the
tribe of Benjamin only mustered five and twenty thousand
and seven hundred men. They deceived themselves by
their own interpretation of the word of God, which in itself
was true. God had not said to them, go forth and conquer,
but go forth and fight. And His purpose was to chastise
them in this way for their negligence and presumption, and
so to humble them. At last God said unto them, ‘Go up,
for to-morrow I will deliver them into your hands,’ and then
by toil and stratagem they obtained the victory,*
* Judg. xx, 23—28,
CHAP.
xix,
3. Answer to
the Tribes of
Israel.
BOOK
Il.
136 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
This is the way in which many souls deceive themselves in
the matter of revelations and Divine locutions. They under-
stand them in the letter according to their apparent meaning.
For, as I have said, the chief purpose of God in sending
visions is to express and communicate the Spirit which is
hidden within them, and which is very hard to be understood.
This is much more abundant than the letter, more extraordi-
nary, and surpasses the limits thereof. He therefore that will
rely on the letter of the Divine locution, or on the intelligible
form of the vision, will of necessity fall into a delusion, and
be put to shame; for he directs himself therein by sense,
and does not yield to the Spirit in detachment from sense.
‘The letter killeth,’ saith the Apostle, ‘but the Spirit quick-
eneth.’* We must therefore reject the literal sense, and
abide in the obscurity of faith, which is the Spirit, incom-
prehensible by sense.
This is the reason why many of the people of Israel came
to disregard and to disbelieve the words of their Prophets.
They understood them in a particular sense, according to the
letter, and were disappointed at their non-fulfilment. To
such an extent did this evil grow among them that they had
a current proverb in ridicule of the prophecies. Isaias com-
plains of this, saying: ‘ Whom shall he teach knowledge ? and
whom shall he make to understand the hearing? Them that
are weaned from the milk, that are drawn away from the
breasts. For command, command again; command, com-
mand again; wait, wait again; wait, wait again; a little
there, a little there. For with the speech of lips, and
with another tongue He will speak to this people.’f It is
clear from these words, that the people made a jest of the
prophecies, and were in the habit of ridiculing them by
saying, ‘wait, wait again,’ Their object was to insinuate
* 2 Cor. iii. 6. + Is. xxviii. 9—11.
soe i at il i i i i, i ae od
PROPHECY NOT OF HUMAN INTERPRETATION. 137
that the prophecies would never be accomplished: for they
understood them according to the letter, which is the milk
of babes; and in their own sense, which is the ‘ breasts,’ which
is in contradiction with the grandeur of the science of the
Spirit. The Prophet therefore asks, ‘Whom shall he teach
the knowledge’ of his prophecies, and ‘ whom shall he make
to understand’ what they teach? Is it not they who are
‘weaned from the milk’ of the letter and from ‘ the breasts’
of sense? That nation understood not the prophecies, for it
followed after the milk of the letter, and the breasts of sense,
saying, ‘command, command again; wait, wait again.’ For
God spoke to them the doctrine of His own mouth, and not
of theirs, and that in another tongue than theirs.
We are therefore not to consider Prophecy according to
our own understanding and our own speech, knowing that
the words of God have a meaning different from ours, and
very difficult to ascertain. So much so that Jeremias, him-
self a Prophet of God, seems to have been deceived when he
saw the meaning of the Divine words to be so far removed
5.
Je
from the ordinary understanding of men; for he thus com-
plains on behalf of the people, saying, ‘ Alas, alas, alas! O
Lord God, hast Thou then deceived this people and Jeru-
salem, saying, You shall have peace, and behold the sword
reacheth even to the soul?’* The peace which God had
promised was peace between Himself and man in the Messias,
Whom He was to send; but the people understood it of
temporal peace; and so, when war and trouble came upon
them, they thought God had deceived them, because they
were disappointed in their hopes. They then cried out in
the words of the Prophet, ‘ We looked for peace, and no good
came.’t It was not possible for them not to be deceived,
because they relied on the literal, grammatical sense.
* Jer, iv. 10. + Ib. viii. 15.
Prayer of
remias.
CHAP.
xIx.
-
6. Prophecies
relating to
the Messias.
138 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Is it possible for anyone to escape error and confusion,
who should understand in the letter the prophecy of the
Psalmist concerning Christ, especially that which says of Him,
‘He shall rule from sea to sea, and from the river unto the
ends of the earth’?* And again, ‘ He shall deliver the poor
from the mighty, and the needy that hath no helper.’ Now
Christ was born in a low estate, lived in poverty, and died
in misery: so far was He from ruling over the earth while
He lived upon it, that He subjected Himself to the lowest
of the people and died under Pontius Pilate. Not only did
He not deliver the poor, His own disciples, from the mighty,
but He suffered the mighty to persecute them for His name,
and to put them to death. The prophecy concerning Christ
is to be understood spiritually, for in that sense is it most
true. He is not only the Lord of the whole earth, but of
Heaven also, for He is God. And the poor, who are to follow
Him, are not only redeemed by Him and delivered from
the mighty, that is out of the hand of Satan, but also made
heirs of the kingdom of Heaven. The prophecy referred to
Christ and His followers in the highest sense, to His eternal
kingdom and our everlasting salvation; but men understood
it in their own way, referring it to that which is of least
importance, and of which God makes but little account, a
temporal dominion, and a temporal deliverance, which in
the sight of God is not a kingdom nor freedom. The Jews,
blinded by the letter of the prophecy, and not understanding
the true spiritual meaning it involved, put our Lord God
to death. ‘They that inhabited Jerusalem,’ saith the
Apostle, ‘and the rulers thereof, not knowing Him, nor the
voices of the Prophets, which are read every Sabbath, judging
Him, have fulfilled them.’
The words of God are indeed hard to be understood as
“SPs, 4Exi, 8, f Ib. 12. t Acts xiii. 27.
a
———E—E— aE ————
GOD’S THOUGHTS NOT MAN’S THOUGHTS. 139
they ought to be. His own disciples, who had been familiar
with Him, were themselves deceived. Two of them after His
death were journeying sad and desponding to Emmaus, and
saying, ‘We hoped that it was He who should have redeemed
Israel.’* They, too, understood this redemption and dominion
in a temporal sense. Our Lord appeared to them, and
rebuked them, saying, ‘O foolish, and slow of heart to
believe in all things which the Prophets have spoken!’ Even
on the day of His Ascension some of them were alike igno-
rant, for they asked Him saying, ‘ Lord, wilt thou at this
time restore again the kingdom to Israel ?’ t
Many things have been spoken by the Holy Ghost, the
meaning of which is different from that which men conceive.
Such were the words of Caiphas concerning Christ: ‘ It is
expedient for you that one man should die for the people,
and that the whole nation perish not. And this he spoke not
of himself.’§ The words of Caiphas had one meaning to
himself, and another, a very different one, to the Holy Ghost.
This shows us that we cannot rely upon visions and revela-
tions, even though coming from God, because it is so easy
for us to be deceived by understanding them in our own
sense. They are an abyss and a depth of the Spirit, and
therefore to limit them to our own sense and apprehension
of them, is to grasp the air and the motes floating in it; the
air only disperses, and our hand is empty.
The spiritual director must be therefore careful not to
make his penitent narrow-minded by attaching any import-
ance to these supernatural visitations; for they are nothing
else but the motes of the Spirit, and he who shall give his
attention to these alone will in the end have no spirituality
at all. Yea, rather let him wean him from all visions and
locutions, and guide him into the liberty and obscurity of
* §, Luke xxiv, 21, + Ib. 25.
t Acts i. 6. § S, John xi. 50.
CHAP.
XIX.
Caiphas as a
prophet.
True discern-
ment foun
in detach-
ment of
spirit,
BOOK
Il.
The best in-
terpreters,—
Faith, and
Liberty of
oars
Two illustra-
tions.
1. Spiritual
Triumph,
140 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
faith, where he shall receive of the abundance of the Spirit,
and consequently the knowledge and understanding of the
words of God. It is impossible for anyone who is not spiri-
tually-minded to judge, even in a moderate degree, the
things of God; and he who judges them according to
sense is not spiritual. Though the things of God are pre-
sented to men through the senses, they are not to be so
understood. ‘The sensual man,’ saith the Apostle, ‘per-
ceiveth not the things that are of the Spirit of God; for
it is foolishness to him, and he cannot understand; because it
is spiritually examined. But the spiritual man judgeth all
things.’ * By ‘sensual man’ is here meant one who under-
stands the Divine locutions in the literal sense; and the
‘spiritual man’ is he who is neither tied to it, nor directed
by it. It is presumption therefore to converse with God in
this supernatural way and to allow sense to intermeddle
therewith. .
For the clearer understanding of this I will give some
illustrations of it. Let us suppose a holy man in affliction,
persecuted by his enemies, to whom God shall say, ‘I will
deliver thee out of their hands.’ This promise may be verified,
and yet the enemies of the Saint triumph, and he die
by their hands. Should he understand the word of God in
a temporal sense, that would be a delusion; for God may
have spoken of the true deliverance and victory, which is
salvation, by which the soul is delivered, and by which it
conquers all its enemies in a higher and truer sense than
that of any temporal victory over them. Thus the pro-
phecy is much more true and comprehensive than the under-
standing of it by anyone who should have limited its mean-
ing to this life. For God, when He speaks, intends great
and profitable things; but man may understand Him in his
* 1 Cor. ii. 14,
- a
“WORDS OF GOD TRUE SPIRITUALLY. 141
own way, in the lowest sense, and so fall into error. This is
exemplified in the prophecy of David concerning Christ :
‘Thou shalt rule them with a rod of iron, and shalt break
them in pieces like a potter's vessel.’* Here God speaks of
that supreme and perfect dominion, which is eternal and
now accomplished; not of a dominion which is less perfect,
which is temporal, and which was not fulfilled in the earthly
life of Christ.
Again: let us suppose a man longing for martyrdom, to
whom God shall say, ‘Thou shalt be a Martyr.’ Upon this
such an one feels great interior consolation, and hopes of
being a martyr. Still he does not die a martyr’s death, and
yet the promise is fulfilled. But why is the promise not
literally performed? Because God keeps it in the highest
and substantial sense, bestowing on that soul the essential
love and reward of a martyr, making it a martyr of love,
granting to it a prolonged martyrdom of suffering, the con-
tinuance of which is more painful than death. Thus He
bestows really on that soul what that soul desired, and what
He had promised. For the substance of that desire was, not
any particular kind of death, but rather the oblation to God
of the obedience of a martyr, and a martyr’s act of love.
Martyrdom itself is nothing worth without the friendship of
God, Who by other means gives the love, obedience, and
reward of a martyr perfectly ; and the soul is satisfied as to
its desires, though the death of a martyr is withheld from it.
These desires, and others like them, when they spring from
true love, though not fulfilled as men may understand them,
are nevertheless fulfilled in another and better way, and more
for the honour of God than men know how to ask. ‘The
Lord hath heard the desire of the poor;’f and ‘to the just
their desire shall be given.’{ Many Saints have desired
* Pei. @. + Ib. ix. 17. } Proy, x. 24,
2. Martyr-
dom of
Desire.
Analogy
between ful-
filment of
Prophecy,
and answer
to Prayer.
BOOK
Second rea-
son why Di-
vine visions
may deceive,
—their con-
ditional
nature,
142 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
many things for God in this life, and their desires have not
been granted; but itis certain that, as their desires were just
and good, they will be perfectly fulfilled in the world to
come. And as this is true, so also is it true, that God in
this life performs His promise of granting their -desires,
though not in the way they thought.
In this and in many other ways the words and visions of
God are true and certain, and yet we may be deceived because
we do not rise to the heights of God’s purpose and meaning.
Thus, the safest course, which directors can take, is to lead
souls into a prudent avoidance of these supernatural visita-
tions, accustoming them to pureness of spirit in the obscurity
of faith, which is the means of the Divine union
CHAPTER XX.
Proofs from Scripture that the Divine Locutions, though always true, are
not always certain in their causes.
Ir is necessary for me now to show why Divine visions and
locutions, though always true in themselves, are not always
so with regard to us. This depends on the motive on which
they are founded; and it is to be understood that they are
always true, while the cause remains, which determines God,
for instance, to inflict chastisement. God perhaps says,
‘Within a year such a kingdom shall be visited with ‘pesti-
lence.’ The ground of this denunciation is a certain offence
against God committed in that kingdom. Now if that
offence ceases or is changed, the punishment will not be
inflicted, or it will come in another form. The denunciation
was true, because grounded upon actual sin, and would
have been verified if the sin had been persisted in. This
is a threatening or conditional revelation.
We have an instance of this in the story of Ninive. God
j
p
:
t
‘i
a tall —e
THREATS AND WARNINGS CONDITIONAL, 143
sent Jonas to it to prophesy its ruin: ‘ Yet forty days and
Ninive shall be destroyed.’* The prophecy was not fulfilled,
because the-reason of it had ceased. The people did penance
for their sins; but if they had not done so, the prophecy
would have been accomplished. King Achab committed a
great sin, and God sent our Father Elias to threaten him
and his house and his kingdom with a most grievous chas-
tisement. But when Achab ‘rent his ‘garments, and put
haircloth on his flesh, and fasted and slept in sackcloth, and
walked with his head cast down,’ and was humbled, God said
to the same Prophet, ‘ Because he hath humbled himself for
My sake, I will not bring the evil in his days; but in his
son’s days will I bring the evit upon his house. ft Thus we
see that, because of the change in Achab, there was a change
also of the threatening and sentence of God.
It follows, then, from this that God, having once revealed
distinctly to anyone, that he was about to bless or punish
either that person or any other, may still change his pur-
pose more or less, or cease from it altogether, according to
the change in the disposition of those to whom the revelation
referred, or the cessation of the cause in view of which the
revelation was made. And this being so, the word that He
spoke will not be fulfilled according to the expectation of
those to whom it was known, and that very often without its
being known why, save to God only. God is wont to speak,
teach, and promise, many things at different times, not to be
understood, or accomplished then; but that they may be
understood afterwards, when the time is come, or when they
are effectually fulfilled. It was in this way our Lord con-
_ versed with His disciples. He spoke to them in parables
and dark sayings, the meaning of which they perceived not
till the time came when they were to preach them to others.
* Jon, iii. 4, +t 3 Kings xxi. 27—29,
Voluntas Dei
conditionata,
144 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Book This time arrived when the Holy Ghost descended upon
them, of whom our Saviour had said: ‘ He will teach you all
things, and bring all things to your mind, whatsoever I shall
have said to you.’* §S. John, speaking of our Lord’s entry
into Jerusalem, says: ‘These things His disciples did not
know at the first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they
remembered that these things were written of Him.’f Thus,
then, many Divine communications, most distinctly made,
may be received by us without being, understood before the
proper time, either by ourselves or by our spiritual directors.
The condt- God was angry with Heli the High Priest of Israel, be-
mise to Heli. cause he knew that his ‘sons did wickedly, and he did not
chastise them.’t He sent a prophet to him to admonish
him. ‘I said indeed that thy house and the house of thy
father should minister in My sight for ever. But now saith
the Lord, Far be this from Me: but whosoever shall glorify
Me, him will I glorify: but they that despise Me shall be
despised.’ § Now the priesthood was instituted for the honour
and glory of God, and for that end it had been promised
by God for ever to the father of Heli on the due fulfilment
of his functions. But when Heli ceased to be zealous for
God’s honour—as God Himself complains—preferring his
children above Him, conniving at their sins that he might
not be compelled to punish them—the promise also ceased
to be observed; though it would have abided for ever, had
they to whom it belonged persevered zealously in the true
service of God. We are, therefore, not to imagine that the
words or revelations of God, though most true, will be in-
fallibly verified in their obvious meaning; for they are, by
the disposition of God Himself, bound up with human causes,
which are liable to fluctuation and change. All this is
known unto God, but He declares it not. He sends forth
* S. John xiv. 26. + Ib. xii. 16.
{ 1 Kings iii. 13. § Ib. ii. 30.
gs i -')
he Ry Pe
CONDITIONS EXPRESSED OR IMPLIED. 145
His word, and at times makes no mention of the condition ;
as in the case of Ninive, when He declared distinctly that
after forty days the city would be destroyed. At other times
He declares the condition, as in the case of Jeroboam, saying,
‘If then thou .. . wilt walk in My ways... keeping My
commandments and My precepts, as David My servant did;
I will be with thee and will build thee up a faithful house
as I built a house for David.’*
But after all, whether God declares the conditions or not,
we must not trust to our understanding of His words; for
we cannot comprehend the hidden truths of God, and the
manifold meaning of His words. He is high above the
heavens, speaking in the ways of eternity; we are blind upon
earth, and cannot penetrate His secrets. This is the mean-
ing of Solomon when he said: ‘God is in Heaven, and thou
upon earth ; therefore let thy words be few.’ f
Here, perhaps, an objection may be made: If then we
cannot understand the revelations of God, nor enter into
their meaning, why does He send them? I have already
met this difficulty. Everything will be intelligible in the
time appointed by Him who hath spoken, and he whom He
hath determined beforehand shall understand: and then all
will see that it was right and fitting it should be so: for God
doeth nothing but in truth and equity. It is, therefore,
most certain that we cannot perfectly understand nor grasp
the full meaning of His words, or determine the sense of
them to be what it seems to be, without falling into shameful
delusions. This truth was well known to the Prophets to
whom the word of the Lord was sent. To prophesy to the
people was to them a grievous affliction; for, as I have said,
much of what they said was not fulfilled in the letter, and
this proved an excuse to the multitude to ridicule and mock
* 3 Kings xi. 38. + Eccles. v. i.
VOL. I. L
CHAP.
xXx.
TT
Revelations
hard to un-
derstand,—
why sent.
BOOK
Il.
Examples of
Jeremias and
Jonas,
146 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
the Prophets. ‘I am become,’ saith the Prophet, ‘a laughing-
stock all the day, all scoff at me. For I am speaking now
this long time, crying out against iniquity, and I often pro-
claim devastation; and the word of the Lord is made a
reproach unto me, and a derision all the day. Then I said:
T will not make mention of Him, nor speak any more in
His name.’*
Here the holy Prophet, though he speaks with resignation
and like a frail man, unable to endure the ways and secrets
of God, teaches us clearly the difference between the true
fulfilment and the apparent meaning of the word of God.
The people treated the heavenly messengers as deceivers,
whose afflictions, on account of their prophecies, were so
great that Jeremias cried out: ‘Prophecy is become to us
a fear, and a snare and destruction.’t Jonas fled when God
sent him to preach the destruction of Ninive, because he did
not perceive the truth, nor wholly comprehend the meaning,
of the words of God. He fled, that he might not become an
object of derision to the people when they saw the prophecy
not fulfilled. He further stayed outside the city for forty
days waiting for the accomplishment of his prophecy, and
when he saw that it remained unfulfilled, he was greatly
affected, and complained, saying: ‘I beseech Thee, O Lord,
is not this what I said, when I was yet in my own country?
Therefore, I went before to flee unto Tharsis.t In his
vexation, therefore, he prayed God to take his life from him.
Is it then surprising that the revelations are not fulfilled
in our sense? For if God makes known to anyone good or
evil, relating to him or to others, and if the revelation thereof
be founded on the obedience or disobedience of that person
or the others, and if the facts continue the same, no doubt
the prophecy will be fulfilled. But it is not, however, certain
* Jerem. xx. 7-9, t+ Lam, iii, 47, t Jon. iv. 2,
PRAYER ANSWERED IN ANGER. 147
that it will be fulfilled in the letter, because the reasons of it
may change. And therefore we must not trust to our own
understanding of these revelations, but to faith.
CHAPTER XXI.
God is at times displeased with certain prayers, though He answers
them. Illustrations of His anger with such prayers.
Some spiritual persons persuade themselves—not reflecting 1
on the great curiosity which they often display when they
seek knowledge from God in supernatural ways—because
their prayers are sometimes answered, that their conduct in
the matter is good and pleasing unto God. Nevertheless
the truth is, notwithstanding the answers they receive, that
God is offended, and not pleased. And more than this, they
provoke Him to anger, and displease Him greatly. The
reason is this—no creature may transgress the limits which
God hath appointed in the order of its being for its rule and
guidance. He has ordained for man’s governance certain
natural and reasonable laws, the transgression of which is
therefore not right: now, to seek anything by supernatural
ways is to transgress these laws, and therefore an unholy
and unbecoming thing, and displeasing unto God.
You will object, and say, Why then does God, if He is
displeased, answer such prayers at all? I reply, the answer
occasionally comes from the devil. But when God answers,
it is out of condescension to the human weakness of him who
will walk in that way, that he may not become disconsolate,
and go back; or that he may not think that God is angry
with him, or that he may not be tempted overmuch; or it
may be for other ends known to God, founded on his weak-
ness, in consideration of which God is pleased to answer him,
and condescend to him in that way. He deals in the same
L2
CHAP,
a a
BOOK
Ii.
148 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL, ©
way with many weak and delicate souls, giving them a
sensible sweetness in their converse with Himself, not be-
cause He delights in this, or because this way is according to
His will; but because He deals with everyone according to
his capacity.
God is a well from which everyone may draw water accord-
ing to the measure of his vessel, and He sometimes permits
us to draw it through extraordinary channels, but it is not
therefore necessarily right to make use of them. It belongs
to God alone to determine this, Who gives how, when, to
whom, and why He wills, without respect of persons. He
sometimes inclines His ear to the prayer of those who cry to
Him, and because of their goodness and simplicity succours
them, that they may not be made sad, and not because He is
pleased with their prayer. The following illustration will
make this more clear. A father covers his table with divers
meats, some better than others. One of his children asks
for one kind, not the best, but the first that presents itself to
him: he asks for it because he likes it better than any other.
His father seeing that he will not take of the best, even
if he offered it, and that he would not have any satisfac-
tion in it, gives him that he asked for. He gives it to him
that he might not be left without food and disconsolate, but
he gives it sorrowfully. Such was God’s dealing with the
people of Israel when they demanded a king. He gave them
a king unwillingly, for that-was not for their good. ‘Hearken
to the voice of the people,’ saith He to Samuel: ‘ they have
not rejected thee but Me, that I should not reign over
them.’* He condescends in the same way to certain souls,
giving them that which is not for their greater good, either
because they will not, or because they cannot, walk with
Him in the better way. And if at times these souls have a
* 1 Kings viii, 7.
j
;
7
oe) sie
—~ ES EE a ne i lal
é
GOSPEL SUFFICIENT FOR GUIDANCE. 149
tenderness and sweetness, spiritual or sensible, He gives it
them because they are not disposed to feed on the strong and
substantial meat, the sufferings of the Cross of His Son. It
is His will that we should cleave thereto rather than to aught
else. It is, in my opinion, much worse to seek for the know-
ledge of events through supernatural ways, than to seek
spiritual sweetness in those of sense.
I do not see how I can excuse from sin, at least venial,
those persons who do this, however good their intentions and
great their progress in perfection. I say the same of those
who bid them persevere in this way, or who consent to it.
There is no necessity for their acting thus, because natural
reason, the law and teaching of the Gospel are sufficient for
our guidance, and there are no wants or difficulties which
cannot be supplied or remedied by them, and that more in
accordance with the will of God, and more to the profit of
souls, Such is our obligation to make use of our reason and
of the teaching of the Gospel, that, whether with or without
our concurrence, if anything be revealed to us supernaturally,
we may receive that only which is consistent with reason and
the evangelical law. And we are bound to examine such
things much more carefully than we should do, if no revelation
had been made; for the devil, in order to deceive us, utters
many things which are true and in conformity with reason.
There is no better or safer remedy for all our necessities
and troubles than prayer and hope, by which God is moved
to provide for us by such means as are pleasing unto Him.
This is the counsel which the Holy Scriptures furnish us.
When King Josaphat was in deepest affliction, hemmed in
by his enemies on all sides, he betook himself to prayer, and
said, ‘As we know not what to do, we can only turn our eyes
to Thee.’* When everything fails us, when reason is power-
* 2 Paral. xx. 12.
CHAP.
XXII.
True means,
-—Reason and
‘Revelation,
Prayer and
Hope enough
for all needs.
BOOK
Il.
150 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
less to suggest relief, we can then lift up our eyes to Thee
only, that Thou mayest provide for us, as it shall seem best
to Thee.
God too, though He sends answers to prayers thus offered,
is angry. But, notwithstanding the certainty of this, I think
it will be well to show it from certain passages of Holy Writ.
When Saul desired to consult the prophet Samuel, then dead,
the Prophet came at his request; God, however, was angry
with Saul, for the Prophet rebuked him, saying, ‘ Why hast
thou disturbed my rest, that I should be brought up?’?* We
know, too, that God was angry with the people of Israel when
they asked Him for meat. He gave them meat, but He also
sent fire from heaven to chastise them: ‘As yet the meat
was in their mouth, and the wrath of God came upon them.’ f
He was angry also with Balaam, when, at the bidding of
Balac, he went to the Madianites, though God had said,
‘ Arise and go.’ Balaam was bent on going, and had asked
permission of God; but an Angel stood before him in the
way with a drawn sword in his hand, and sought to kill
him, and said, ‘ Thy way is perverse and contrary to Me.’t
In this, and in many other ways, God condescends, but in
anger, to our desires. And the Holy Writings furnish us
many other instances of this truth, but on which we have
no need to enlarge in a matter so plain.
I have only to add that, it is a most perilous thing, and
much more so than I can tell, to converse with God by these
supernatural ways, and that whosoever is thus disposed
cannot but fall into many shameful delusions. He who shall
apply himself to these’ ways will learn by experience the
truth of the matter. For over and above the difficulty of
not being deceived by the Divine visions and locutions, there
is usually the further danger of the devil thrusting himself
* 1 Kings xxviii. 15, + Num, xi. 4, 33; Ps. Lxxvii, 30, 31.
t Num, xxii. 20, 32,
a he a a eee
’ SATAN AMONG THE PROPHETS.. 151
in among them. Satan, in general, comes to the soul in
the ways and methods of God, suggesting to it communica-
tions so much resembling those of God, insinuating himself
as a wolf in sheep’s clothing among the flock, so that he can
scarcely be detected. For as the evil spirit announces many
things that are true, conformable with reason, and certain,
men may be most easily deluded, thinking that, as the
prophecy corresponded with the event, it could be none
other than God who had spoken. They do not reflect how
very easy it is for one, endowed with clear natural light, to
understand in their causes many matters, which have been
or may be done. Such an one will accurately guess at many
things to come. And as the devil is endowed with so clear
a light, he is able to infer such results from such causes;
though they are not always such as he describes them,
because all things depend on the will of God.
Let us make this clear by an illustration: The devil
knows that the condition of the earth and the atmosphere,
and the position of the sun are such, that at a given time,
the combination of the elements must, of necessity, occasion
a pestilence. He will also know where the pestilence will
be most violent and where least so. He perceives the
pestilence in its causes. Is it a great matter for the
devil, in this case, to reveal to a particular person that
within a year or six months a plague will come, which does
come? Yet the prediction is diabolic. He may also foretell
earthquakes in the same way. When he sees the caverns of
the earth filled with air, he may say an earthquake will come
at such atime. This knowledge is natural. Extraordinary
events in the providence of God may also be detected in
their sources. Seeing that He is most just in His dealings
with men, we may be able to see, in the ordinary way, that
a given individual, city, or place is come to such a state or
difficulty that God, in His providence and justice, must deal
Satan has
knowledge of
physical
causes,
BOOK
Il.
152 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
therewith as the cause demands: either in the way of punish~
ment or of reward, according to the nature of the case.
Under these circumstances, we may say, at such a time,
God will visit, or such things will happen, most certainly.
We have an instance of this in holy Judith, who, when she
would persuade Holofernes that the people of Israel must
certainly perish, told him of their many sins and the cala-
mities they suffered, and added, ‘therefore because they do
these things, it is certain they will be given to destruction.’ *
Here Judith saw the punishment in its cause. It is as if
she had said, it is certain that such sins will draw down the
chastisements of God, Who is most just. The same prin-
ciple is taught in the book of Wisdom where it is written,
‘By what things a man sinneth, by the same also he is
tormented.’ f The devil may perceive this not only natu-
rally, but also by his experience of the like dealings of God.
He may also announce it certainly beforehand.
Holy Tobias also knew in its causes the chastisement
about to fall upon Ninive, for he warned his son thereof,
saying, ‘ Now, children, hear me, and do not stay here; but
as soon as you shall bury your mother by me in one
sepulchre, without delay direct your steps to depart hence.
For I see that its iniquity will bring it to destruction.” f
It is as if he had said, I see clearly that its iniquity must
bring on punishment, and that its punishment will be its
utter ruin. .This might have been foreseen by the devil and
Tobias, not only because of the evil deeds of Ninive, but
also from their experience of the past, knowing that God
had destroyed the old world, on account of the sins of men,
by the deluge, and the people of Sodom by fire. But Tobias
knew also the ruin of Ninive by the Holy Ghost.
The evil spirit may know that a given individual will die
* Judith xi, 12. t+ Wisd, xi. 17. } Tob. xiy. 12, 13.
ey
td ee i lil
ail
THE SPIRIT OF GIDDINESS. - 153
within a certain time in the course of nature, and may
announce the fact beforehand. He may also know many
other events in divers ways, which I am unable to de-
scribe, because they are exceedingly intricate and subtle.
There is no escape here, therefore, but in fleeing revelations,
visions, and locutions, because God is most justly offended
with whosoever seeks them; He sees that it is rashness to
expose oneself to so great a risk, and that to seek these
things is presumption, curiosity, the fruit of pride, the
source and root of vain-glory, contempt of the things | of
God, and many other evils into which so many have fallen.
Such persons have so offended God, that He has deliberately
abandoned them to errors and delusions and mental blind-
ness; and has suffered them to go astray from the ordinary
course of a well-regulated life, giving way to vanity and
imaginations, as the Prophet saith: ‘ The Lord hath mingled
in the midst thereof the spirit of giddiness,’ * that is, in
common speech, the spirit of understanding things the wrong
way. The words of the Prophet are to the point, for he is
speaking of those who attempted to know future events
by supernatural ways. He says, therefore, that God had
mingled in the midst of them the spirit of understanding
things the wrong way; not that God willed or sent, in fact,
this spirit of delusion, but that they thrust themselves into
those things, the knowledge of which is naturally a secret.
God, therefore, in His anger allowed them to utter foolish
things, giving them no light where it was not His will they
should enter. It is therefore said that He mingled, per-
missively, the spirit of giddiness in the midst of them.
This is the way in which God is the cause of this evil;
namely, as the privative cause, which is the withdrawal of His
light and grace, the result of which is inevitable error. It
* Ts, xix, 14,
CHAP.
154 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
is in this way, too, that He permits the devil to blind and
deceive many, whose sins and whose frowardness deserve it.
The devil is then able to deceive them, and does deceive
them; men believing and accounting him a good spirit, and
this to such a degree, that, though convinced that they are
under the influence of the evil one, they cannot get rid of
their delusions; because, by the permission of God, the spirit
of contradiction is so strong within them. This was the
case with the prophets of Achab, who, by the permission of
God, was deceived by them; for He had allowed the evil
spirit to do so, saying, ‘Thou shalt deceive him and shalt
prevail; go forth and do so.’* So strong was the delusion of
the king and the prophets, that they refused to believe
Micheas, who prophesied truly in opposition to the lying
words of those prophets. They were all deceived, God having
permitted their blindness, because they were bent on what
they liked themselves, desiring that the event and the
answer of God should correspond with their own wishes and
desires. This disposition of mind is the most certain road
towards being abandoned of God to error and delusions.
Ezechiel in the name of God prophesies to the same effect ;
for speaking against such as seek knowledge, in the way of
God, out of vanity of mind and curiosity, he says: ‘If he...
come to the prophet to enquire of Me by him, I the Lord
will answer him by Myself, and I will set My face against
that man. . . . And when the prophet shall err. . . . I the
Lord have deceived’ him.t We are to understand this of
the non-concurrence of God’s grace, so that delusion follows.
God says, ‘I will answer him by Myself, in My anger, that
is, I withdraw My grace and protection; then man falls
infallibly into delusions, because God has abandoned him.
Then, too, the devil comes forward and makes answer ac-
* 3 Kings xxii, 22, + Ezech. xiv. 7, 8, 9.
ee ee ee —— ee
ee
THE OLD AND THE NEW LAW CONTRASTED. 155
cording to that man’s wishes and desires, who, taking pleasure
therein, the answers and suggestions of the evil one being
in unison with his will, falls into many delusions.
I seem to have strayed in some measure from the subject, |
as I described it in the beginning of this chapter. I
undertook to show that God was offended, even though He
answered our prayers. Yet, if what I have said be carefully
considered, it will be found to prove what I intended: it
being clear throughout, that God is not pleased that men
should seek after such visions, because they are in so many
ways occasions of delusions.
CHAPTER XXII.
It is not lawful, under the New Law, as it was under the Old, to enquire
of God by supernatural ways. This doctrine profitable for the under-
standing of the mysteries of our Holy Faith. Proofs from S. Paul.
CHAP.
XX.
Dousts spring up before us, and hinder us from advancing Objections
answ'
as rapidly as I wish. For as they rise, it is necessary to
remove them, that the truth of this doctrine may remain
clear and in its full force. -These doubts bring with them
this advantage, that, notwithstanding the delays they oc-
casion, they subserve my teaching, and make my purpose
clear. Such is the present doubt.
-I said in the former chapter, it is not the will of God that
men should seek for clear knowledge in visions and locutions
by supernatural ways. On the other hand, we know that
this method was practised under the Old Law, and that it was
then lawful; further still, that it was not only lawful but
commanded, and that God rebuked men for not having
recourse to it. He rebuked the children of Israel, because
they had resolved to go down into Egypt before enquiring of
Him, saying to them, ‘Woe to you... who walk to go
ered.
156 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK down into Egypt, and have not asked at my mouth.’* When
“———— the people of Israel were deceived by the Gabaonites, the
Holy Ghost rebuked them for a like fault, for it is written
that ‘they took of their victuals and consulted not the mouth
of the Lord.’t In the Holy Writings we see that God was
consulted continually by Moses, by David, by all the Kings
of Israel in their wars and necessities, by the Priests and
Prophets of old, and that He answered them, and was not
provoked to anger, and that in this all was well done. Yea,
moreover, if they had not consulted Him, they would have
done amiss: which is true. Why then, may we not, under
the New Law and in the state of grace, do what was done
under the Old?
What per- To this I reply, the chief reason why the prayers in
Jewsforbid- question were lawful under the old dispensation, and why it
Cimistians— was necessary for Prophets and Priests to seek visions and
revelations from God was, that the Faith was not then re-
vealed, that the evangelical Law was not established; and
therefore that it was necessary for men to enquire of God in
this way, and that He should answer them at one time by
visions, revelations and locutions, at another by figures and
similitudes, and again by other and different ways of com-
munication. For all the answers, locutions, and revelations
of old were mysteries of the Faith, or matters pertaining or
tending thereto; inasmuch as the objects of faith proceed
not from man, but from the mouth of God Himself, who, by
His own mouth has revealed them. He therefore rebuked
them when they. did not consult Him; for it was His will
they should do so, that He might answer them, directing all
things towards the Faith, of which they had then no know-
ledge. But now that the Faith of Christ is established, and
the evangelical Law promulgated in this day of grace, there is
Pals, KEX, 1,2, + Jos. ix. 14,
EE eeEeeeeeeeEE———————E——E——= el
a
THE WORD WAS MADE FLESH. 157
no necessity to consult Him as before, nor that He should
answer and speak. For in giving to us, as He hath done,
His Son, who is His only Word, He has spoken unto us once
for all by His own and only Word, and has nothing further to
reveal.
This is the meaning of S. Paul in those words, by which
he endeavoured to persuade the Jews to abandon the ancient
ways of conversing with God, according to the Law of Moses,
and to fix their eyes on Christ alone. ‘ God, who at sundry
times and in divers manners spoke, in times past to the
fathers by the Prophets, last of all, in these days hath spoken
to us by His Son.’* God hath now so spoken, that nothing
remains unspoken ; for that which He partially revealed to
the Prophets He hath now revealed all in Him, giving
unto us all, that is, His Son. And, therefore, he who should
now enquire of God in the ancient way, seeking visions or
revelations, would offend Him; because he does not fix his
eyes upon Christ alone, disregarding all besides. To such an
one the answer of God is: ‘This is My beloved Son, in
whom I am well pleased, hear ye Him.’t I have spoken
all by My Word, my Son; fix thine eyes upon Him, for in
Him I have spoken and revealed all, and thou wilt find in
Him more than thou desirest or askest. For if thou desirest
partial visions, revelations, or words, fix thine eyes upon
Him, and thou shalt find all. He is My whole Voice and
Answer, My whole Vision and Revelation, which I spoke,
answered, made, and revealed, when I gave Him to be thy
Brother, Master, Companion, Ransom and Reward. I des-
cended upon Him with My Spirit on Mount Tabor and said,
‘This is My Beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased, hear
ye Him.’ It is not for thee now to seek new oracles and
responses; for when I spoke in former times it was to promise
* Heb. i. 1. + S. Matth. xvii. 5,
CHAP.
The Word of
God fully
spoken in
the Incarna-
tion.
158 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Christ: and the prayers of those who then enquired of Me
were prayers for Christ and expectations of His coming, in
whom all good was comprehended, according to the teaching
of the Evangelists and Apostles. But, now, he who shall
enquire of Me in the ancient way, or hope for an answer at
My mouth, or that I should make to him any revelation,
shows that he is not content with Christ, and therefore
grievously wrongs My Beloved Son. While thou hast Christ
thou hast nothing to ask of Me, nothing to desire in the way
of visions or revelations. Look well unto Him, and thou
wilt find that I have given all this and much more in Christ.
If thou desirest a word of consolation from My mouth,
behold My Son obedient unto Me and afflicted for My love,
and thou wilt see how great is the answer I give thee. If
thou desirest to learn of God secret things, fix thine eyes
upon Christ, and thou wilt find the profoundest mysteries,
the wisdom and marvels of God, hidden in Him: ‘In
Whom,’ saith the Apostle, ‘are hid all the treasures of wisdom
and knowledge.’* These treasures will be sweeter and more
profitable to thee than all those things thou desirest to know.
It was in these that the Apostle gloried when he said, ‘I
judged not myself to know anything among you but Jesus
Christ and Him crucified.’f If thou desirest other visions
and revelations, Divine or bodily, look upon His Sacred Hu-
manity, and thou wilt find there more than can ever enter
into thy thoughts, ‘ for in Him dwelleth all the fulness of
the Godhead corporally.’ t
It is, therefore, unbecoming to enquire of God by super-
natural ways, and there is no necessity that He should reply,
for having spoken by Christ, we ought to desire nothing
more. He who shall now desire to know anything by extra-
ordinary supernatural ways, implies a defect in God, as if
* Coloss, ii. 3, t 1 Cor. ii. 2. t Coloss, ii, 9.
-CONSUMMATUM EST. 159
He had not given us enough when He gave us His only Son.
For though we should enquire of Him, admitting the Faith ————
and believing it, we should be guilty of curiosity showing
but little faith. If we are thus curious we cannot expect to
be taught, nor receive any other help in the supernatural
way. For at that moment when Christ, dying on the cross
cried out, ‘it is consummated,’* not these forms of prayer
only, but all the rites and ceremonies also of the Old Law
were done away with.
We must, therefore, be guided now ra the teaching of Knowledge
Christ, of His Church and ministers, and through it seek the
remedy for all our spiritual ignorance and infirmities. It is
in this way that we shall obtain an abundant relief; all that
goes beyond this, or neglects it, is not curiosity only, but
great rashness ; and we are to rely upon nothing supernatural
which does not rest on the teaching of Christ, God and man,
and of His ministers. So great is the obligation to do this,
that S. Paul said: ‘Though we, or an Angel from Heaven,
preach to you a gospel, beside that which you have received,
let him be anathema.t Seeing, then, that it is true that we
must abide in the teaching of Christ, that all beside is
nothing and not to be believed, unless it be in harmony
therewith, he laboureth in vain who attempts to converse
with God according to the way of the ancient dispensation.
Moreover, it was not lawful in those days for everyone to
enquire of God—neither did God answer everyone— but
only for the Priests and the Prophets, for it was at their
mouth that men were to seek for the law and knowledge.
Whenever, therefore, anyone enquired of God, he did so
through a prophet or a priest, and not by himself. And if
David from time to time enquired of God, it was because he
was himself a prophet, and even then he did not do so
* S. John xix, 30. + Galat, i, 8.
through the
Church,
160 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
without assuming the priestly robe; as we learn from his
words to Abiathar, ‘ bring me hither the Ephod,’* which was
one of the chief sacerdotal vestments. When the Ephod was
brought, then it was he enquired of God. But at other
times he made use of the services of Nathan and other pro-
phets. Men were to believe that what the priests said to them
came from God, because it was spoken by the mouth of pro-
phets and of priests, and not because they themselves judged
it safe. The words of God in those days were not meant by
Him to be fully relied on, unless uttered by the mouth of
priests and prophets; for it is the will of God that man
should be governed and directed by another man like him-
self, and that we should not give entire belief to His own
supernatural communications, nor rely securely upon them,
until they shall have passed through the human channel of
another man’s mouth. And so it is, whenever He reveals
anything to the human soul, He does so by inclining that
soul, and him to whom it should be made known, to the
matter of His revelation. Until then, the soul will be
destitute of entire satisfaction therein, in order that man
may obtain it through another like himself, and whom God
has appointed to stand in His place.
Such was the case with Gideon, to whom God had more
than once promised victory over the Madianites. He con-
tinued, nevertheless, to hesitate and fear, God having left
him in this weakness, until he heard from the mouth of men
that which God had announced Himself. So when God saw
him hesitate, He said unto him, ‘ Arise, and go down into
the camp.... and when thou shalt hear what they are
saying, then shall thy hands be strengthened, and thou shalt
go down more secure into the enemies’ camp.’f So, when
he had penetrated within the camp of the Madianites, he
* 1 Kings xxx. 7. + Judg. vii. 9, 11,
ee
Zz 4a
.
HUMAN INSTRUMENTS OF GOD’S WILL. 161
heard one of them tell another how he had dreamed that
Gideon conquered them. Upon this he took courage, and
with great joy made his preparations for battle. It appears
from this, that God’s will was that he should not feel secure
till he heard from another, what God had revealed Himself.
A like event in the life of Moses is more wonderful still.
God sent him with many instructions, confirming them by
miracles—the rod he had was changed into a serpent, and
his hand became leprous—to be the deliverer of the people
of Israel. But Moses was so weak, hesitating, and doubtful
of his course, that, notwithstanding God’s being angry with
him, he could not resolve to undertake his work until God
encouraged him by the mouth of Aaron his brother: ‘ Aaron
the Levite is thy brother; I know that he is eloquent;
behold, he cometh forth to meet thee, and, seeing thee, shall
be glad at heart. Speak to him, and put My words in his
mouth, and I will be in thy mouth and in his mouth.’*
When Moses heard this he took courage, in the hope of that
comfort which he was to receive from the counsels of his
brother Aaron.
Such, too, is the conduct of the humble soul: it will not
presume to converse with God by itself, neither can it satisfy
itself without human counsel and direction. Such, also, is
the will of God, for He draws near to those who come
together in the way of truth, to make it clear, and to
strengthen them in it, as He promised to do in the case of
Moses and Aaron—namely, to be in the mouth of them both.
He has promised us in His Gospel to help us in the same way,
saying, ‘ Where there are two or three gathered together in
My Name, there am I in the midst of them.’f Where two
or three meet together, to consider what is for the greater
glory and honour of My Name, there am I in the midst of
* Ex. iv. 14, 15, + S. Matt. xviii. 20.
VOL. I. M
CHAP,
XXII.
Hesitation
of Gideon
and of Moses.
Mutual coun-
sel a means of
Divine light
and strength,
Te ey a, ae ee
BOOK
I.
deception.
Peril of self-
guidance.
Prudence of
8. Paul.
162 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
them, enlightening them, and confirming the truths of God
in their hearts. Remember, He does not say: Where one is,
but where two are, at the least. He would have us know
that it is not His will that anyone should, trusting to him-
self, rely on the Divine communications; and that He will
not establish us therein without the authority and direction
of the Church or His ministers. God will not enlighten
him who is alone, nor confirm the truth in his heart: such
an one will be weak and cold.
This truth is insisted on by the Preacher, saying, ‘ Woe to
him that is alone, for when he falleth, he hath none to
lift him up. And if two lie together, they shall warm one
another: how shall one alone be warmed? And if a man
prevail against one, two shall withstand him.’* They shall
‘warm one another’ in the fire of God; and he that is alone
cannot be but cold in the things of God. If the evil one
prevail against those who are alone in their spiritual affairs,
two, that is the penitent and his director, shall resist him
when they come together to learn and practise the truth.
And in general, until this be done, he who is alone is weak
and tepid in it, notwithstanding he may have heard it of God
more than once. S. Paul himself, having preached the
Gospel for some time, and having received it, not from man,
but from God, would not proceed further without conferring
with S. Peter and the other Apostles, lest he should ‘run, or
had run in vain.’ t
It is clear from these words of the Apostle, that it is not
safe to rely on what seems to be a revelation from God,
except under the conditions I have described. For even if a
person were certain that a particular revelation is from God,
as S. Paul was of the Gospel—for he had begun to preach it
— still such an one might err in the execution of his work
and in matters pertaining to it. For God does not always
* Eccles. iv. 10, 11, 12. T Gal. ii, 2.
- or
GRACE ASSISTED BY NATURE. 163
reveal the one, while He reveals the other; frequently He
reveals a matter without revealing how it is to be brought
about—hbecause, in general, all that is within the province of
human sagacity and skill He does not Himself perform nor
declare, though He may have conversed familiarly for a long
time with him to whom the revelation is made. S. Paul
understood this well, for though he knew that the Gospel he
preached was a Divine revelation, he ‘conferred’ with
S. Peter.
We have a most clear illustration of this truth in the life
of Moses. Though God conversed so familiarly with him,
He never gave him the salutary~counsel which Jethro sug-
gested, that he should appoint other judges to assist him,
that the people might not ‘ wait from morning till night.’
‘ Provide out of all the people able men, such as fear God, in
whom there is truth... who may judge the people at all
times.’* God approved of the counsel of Jethro, but He
gave it not, because the matter was within the limits of
human prudence and discretion.
In the same way, too, all things relating to visions and
Divine locutions, which are within the compass of human
prudence and discretion, are not made known to us by God:
it being always His will, that we should make use of our
natural endowments, so far as possible; except in matters of
Faith, which transcend the province of Judgment and Reason,
though they are not contrary to them. Let no man, there-
fore, imagine, although God and His Saints converse familiarly
with him about many things, that they will also reveal to him
the faults he commits with respect to the matter of the revela-
tion ; for he may ascertain these in another way. We must not
be too confident in this matter ; for S. Peter himself, the Prince
of the Church, and immediately taught of God, fell into error
in his intercourse with the Gentiles. God was silent, and
* Ex. xviii. 21, 22.
m 2
CHAP,
Counsel of
Jethro.
Harmony of
nm and
Faith,
164 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
S. Paul rebuked him, as he tells us himself: ‘When I saw
———— that they walked not uprightly unto the truth of the Gospel,
Obedience
better than
miracles.
God the
Author of
Reason and
the Natural
Law.
I said to Cephas, before them all: If thou, being a Jew, livest
after the manner of the Gentiles, and not as the Jews do,
how dost thou compel the Gentiles to live as do the Jews?’*
God did not warn Peter of his fault, because he might have
known it in the ordinary way. In the Day of Judgment God
will punish many for sins and errors, with whom He holds
- familiar intercourse now, and to whom He gives much light
and strength; because they are negligent in what they know
they ought to do—relying on their converse with Him, and
disregarding all besides. Such persons will then be asto-
nished, as our Lord tells us; and they will cry, ‘ Lord, Lord,
‘ have not we prophesied in Thy Name, and cast out devils in
Thy Name, and done many miracles in Thy Name?’ The
answer of the Judge will be, ‘I never knew you; depart from
Me, you that work iniquity.’t Of the number of these was
Balaam, and others like him, who were sinners, even though
God held converse with them. God will also rebuke the
Elect, His own friends, with whom he conversed familiarly in
this life, for the faults and negligences of which they are
guilty. It is not necessary for Him to warn them now
directly, because He has given them Reason and the Natural
Law to remind them of their errors.
~ In conclusion, then, I say—and I gather it from the fore-
going principle—that all communications made to the soul,
of whatever kind and in whatever form, ought to be clearly,
distinctly, and simply revealed to our spiritual director forth-
with, and in all truthfulness. Though such communications
seem to us.of no moment, and not worth the time they take
up in recounting them—seeing that the soul, by rejecting
them and making no account of them, remains secure, as I
* Gal. ii. 14. + S. Matt. vii. 22, 23.
NECESSITY OF TAKING COUNSEL. 165
have said; and more especially if they are visions or reve-
lations or other supernatural visitations, whether clear or
not, or whether it be of no importance or not that they
should be so—still it is absolutely necessary to reveal them,
though we may think otherwise ourselves. There are three
reasons why it should be done:
1. God reveals many things, the fruit, meaning, and
certainty of which He does not establish in the soul until
_ he, whom God has constituted the spiritual judge of that
soul, has had them before him; for it is he who has the power
to bind and to loose, to approve and reject, those com-
munications, as I have shown by the illustrations I have
given. Daily experience teaches us the same truth; for
those humble souls, to whom these visitations are made,
attain to renewed satisfaction, strength, enlightenment, and
security, as soon as they have revealed them to the rightful
person. Yea, such is the fruit of this submission, that some
who, until they had revealed them, thought they had received
them not, and that they were not theirs, after revealing
them receive them as it were anew.
2. In general the soul to whom these communications are
made requires instruction therein, that it may be directed in
that way to poverty of spirit and detachment, which is the
Obscure Night. For if the necessary instructions fail — even
when the soul does not seek these things —the result will
be an unconscious rudeness in the spiritual way, and a falling
back upon the way of sense.
3. An unreserved communication is necessary for humbling
and mortifying the soul, though we make no account of
these visions, and regard them not. For there are some
souls who have a great repugnance to reveal these matters,
because they think them to be of no importance, and do not
know how their spiritual director may deal with them. This
is a want of humility, and therefore such persons must
2. Detach-
ment of
spirit.
3. Humility.
BOOK
Advice to
Spiritual
Directors,
166 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
submit to reveal them. On the other hand, there are some
who are ashamed to make known these things, lest they
should seem to be like the Saints, or for other reasons which
fill them with pain when they speak. These, therefore,
think themselves dispensed from manifesting their state,
because they attribute no importance to it. But this is the
very reason why they should mortify themselves, and reveal
what has passed within them, until they become humble,
gentle, and ready in this, and ever afterwards reveal with
facility their interior state.
But remember, though I say that these communications
are to be set aside, and that confessors should be careful not
to discuss them with their penitents, it is not right for
spiritual directors to show themselves severe in the matter,
~ nor betray any contempt or aversion; lest their penitents
Works of
love better
than visions
of Heaven.
should shrink within themselves, and be afraid to reveal
their condition, and so fall into many inconveniences, which
would be the case if the door were thus shut against them.
For, as I have said before, these supernatural visitations are
means in the hands of God for guiding souls, and, being such,
they must not be lightly regarded by spiritual directors, who
are not to be surprised nor scandalised at them ; yea, rather,
they must treat them with gentleness and calmness, en-
couraging their penitents, and giving them every opportunity
to explain them. And, if it be necessary, they must enjoin
upon them this manifestation, for at times, everything is
necessary in the difficulty, which penitents experience when
they have to reveal their state. Let them direct them by
faith, carefully instructing them to turn away from these
supernatural visitations, showing them how to be detached
therefrom in mind and desire, so that they may advance, and
understand that one good work, or act of the will, wrought in
charity is more precious in the eyes of God, than that which
all the visions and revelations of Heaven might effect; and
en) ie ee
PURELY SPIRITUAL SIGHT. 167
that many souls, to whom visions have never come, are in-
comparably more advanced in the Way of Perfection, than
others to whom many have been given.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Of the purely Spiritual Apprehensions of the Intellect.
I HAVE been somewhat concise in the discussion of those
intellectual apprehensions which are derived from the senses,
if we regard the abundance of the matter, and I am un-
willing to pursue it at greater length; because, so far as my
purpose is concerned—which is the extrication of the intellect
from them, and the direction of it into the Night of Faith—
I think I have said more than enough. I shall now, there-
fore, enter on the discussion of the other four apprehensions
of the intellect, which, in the tenth chapter, I said were
purely spiritual—namely, Visions, Revelations, Locutions, and
Spiritual Impressions. I call these purely spiritual, because
they do not reach the intellect, like those which are corporeal
and imaginary, by the way of the senses of the body; but
because they reach it independently of every bodily sense,
interior or exterior, clearly and distinctly in a supernatural
way, and passively; that is, irrespectively of, at least, any
active operation on the part of the soul itself.
Speaking generally, we may say that these four apprehen-
sions may be called visions of the soul; for we say that the
soul sees when it understands. And inasmuch as all these
apprehensions are intelligible to the intellect, we say that
they are spiritually visible; and therefore the particular in-
telligence of them, formed in the intellect, may be called
intellectual vision. And as all the objects of the senses—of
seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and touching—in so far as
BOOK
IL
The Intelli-
gible seen by
the Eye of
the Soul.
Explanation
of terms.
168 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
they are true or false, are objects of the intellect, it follows
that, as all that is bodily visible is an occasion of corporeal
visions to the bodily eyes; so all that is intelligible is an
occasion of spiritual vision to the spiritual eye of the soul,
which is the intellect ; for, as I have said, to understand is to
see. And thus, speaking generally, these four apprehensions
may be called visions. The other senses, however, cannot be
thus applied, for not one of them is capable of receiving, as
such, the subject-matter of another.
But as these apprehensions are represented to the soul in
the same manner as to all the senses, it follows, to use the
proper and specific terms, that all which the intellect re-
ceives by the way of seeing—for it can see spiritually, as the
eyes see bodily —-may be called Vision ; that which it receives
by apprehending and perceiving new things, Revelation ;
that which it receives by the way of hearing, Locution; and
that which it receives in the way of the other senses, such as
spiritual odour, taste, and delectation, of which the soul is
supernaturally conscious, may be called Spiritual Impressions.
From all this the intellect elicits an act of intelligence or
spiritual vision, as I have said, without perceiving any form,
image, or figure whatever of the natural imagination or
fancy, which could furnish any foundation for it: for these
things are communicated directly to the soul by a super-
natural operation and by supernatural means.
The intellect, therefore, must be extricated from these
things also — precisely as from the corporeal and imaginary
apprehensions—by being guided and directed into the
spiritual Night of Faith to the Divine and. substantial Union
of the love of God. For if this be not effected, the intellect
will be perplexed and rude; and that solitude and detach-
ment from them, which is requisite for travelling on the
Way of Union, will be prevented. For, admitting that these
apprehensions are more exalted, more profitable and safe,
DETACHMENT FROM INTELLECTUAL VISIONS. 169
than those which are corporeal and imaginary — inasmuch
as they are interior, purely spiritual, and less liable to the
intrusions of Satan — because they are communications of
God to the soul, in the greatest pureness and subtlety,
independent of, at least, any active operations of the soul
or of the imagination; still the intellect may be not only
embarrassed by them, but, by its incautiousness, greatly
deluded.
I might now finish with these four apprehensions together,
by giving advice common to them all, as I have already
done with the others — namely ; let no man seek them or
desire them: still, inasmuch as-a different course will en-
lighten us how to do so, and as there is something still to
be said with reference to them, I think it well to treat of
each one of them in particular. With this view I now pro-
ceed to speak of the first of them—Spiritual or Intellectual
Visions.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Of the two kinds of Spiritual Visions which come by the supernatural
way.
I say, then, speaking directly of the Spiritual Visions, inde-
pendent of any bodily sense, that there are two kinds to
which the intellect is liable: one of corporeal substances,
another of abstract or incorporeal substances. The corporeal
visions are visions of all material things in heaven and
earth, visible to the soul in a certain light emanating from
God, in which distant things of heaven and earth may be
seen. The other visions of incorporeal things require a
higher light: thus visions of incorporeal substances, as of
Angels and of souls, are not frequent or natural in this life ;
and still less so is the vision of the Divine Essence, which is
CHAP. .
XXII.
Two kinds.
1. Of the
Corporeal.
2. Of the
Spiritual.
- BOOK
Il.
170 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
peculiar to the Blessed, unless it be communicated tran-
siently by a dispensation of God, or by conservation of our
natural life and condition, and the abstraction of the spirit;
as was perhaps the case of S. Paul when he heard the un-
utterable secrets in the third heaven, ‘ Whether in the body,’
saith he, ‘I know not, or out of the body, I know not; God
knoweth,’* It is clear from the words of the Apostle that _
he was carried out of himself, by the act of God, as to his
natural existence.
It is also believed that God showed His own Essence to
Moses, for He said unto him that He would set him in a
hole of the rock, and protect him with His right hand, that
he might not die when His glory passed by.f This passing
by was a transient vision, God upholding with His right
hand the natural life of Moses. But these Essential Visions,
such as those of 8. Paul, Moses, and our father Elias, when,
at the whistling of a gentle air, he ‘ covered his face with
his mantle,’ t are transient and of most rare occurrence, and
scarcely ever granted, and to very few; for God shows them
only to those who, like these, are the mighty ones of His
Church and Law.
Now, though, in the ordinary course, these visions cannot
be clearly and distinctly seen in this life, the effect of them ~
may be felt in the very substance of the soul, through the
instrumentality of a loving knowledge, in the most sweet
touch and union pertaining to the spiritual impressions, of
which, by the grace of God, I shall speak hereafter. The
end I have in view is the Divine Embracing, the Union of the
sou] with the Divine Substance. I shall speak of it when
I treat of the’mystical, confused, or obscure intelligence, and
explain how, in this loving and obscure knowledge, God
unites Himself with the soul, eminently and Divinely. For
* 2 Cor. xii. 2. t+ Ex. xxxiii. 22. } 3 Kings xix, 13.
OBJECTS OF SUPERNATURAL INTUITION. 171
this loving obscure knowledge, which is Faith, serves, in
a manner, in this life as means of the Divine union, as the
light of glory hereafter serves for the Beatific Vision.
Let me now, then, speak of visions of corporeal sub-
stances, spiritually presented to the soul, after the manner
of bodily visions. As the eyes behold bodily things in
natural light, so the intellect, in light supernaturally de-
rived, beholds interiorly the same natural things, and others
also such as God wills; the vision, however, is different in
kind and form, for spiritual or intellectual visions are much
more clear and subtle than bodily visions. When God
grants this favour to any one, He communicates to him that
supernatural light, wherein he beholds what God wills, most
easily and most distinctly, whether they be things of heaven
or of earth; neither is their presence nor absence any im-
pediment to the vision.
When these visions occur, it is as if a door were opened
into a most marvellous light, whereby the soul sees, as men
do when the lightning suddenly flashes in a dark night.
The lightning makes surrounding objects visible for an
instant, and then leaves them in obscurity, though the forms
of them remain in the fancy. But in the case of the soul
the vision is much more perfect; for those things it saw in
spirit in that light are so impressed upon it, that whenever
God enlightens it again, it beholds them as distinctly as it
did at first, precisely as in a mirfor, in which we see objects
reflected whenever we look upon it. These visions once
granted to the soul never again leave it altogether ; for the
forms remain, though they become somewhat indistinct in
the course of time.
The effects of these visions in the soul are quietness,
enlightenment, joy like glory, sweetness, pureness, love,
humility, inclination or elevation of the mind to God, some-
times more, sometimes less, sometimes more of one, some-
1. Their
nature.
3. Their
effects.
- BOOK
Tr.
Diabolic
spiritual
visions.
How distin-
guished from
those of God.
172: THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
times more of another, according to the disposition of the
soul and the will of God.
The devil, too, can produce or mimic these visions by
means of a certain natural light. He employs therein the
fancy, in which, by spiritual insinuations, he "presents
clearly before the mind either present or distant things.
And some Doctors, commenting on that place in the Gospel
where it is written that the devil ‘showed’ our Lord ‘all the
kingdoms of the world,’* say that he did so by a spiritual
insinuation, because it was impossible to see at once ‘all the
kingdoms of the world and the glory of them’ with the
bodily eyes. But there is a great difference between the
visions of God and those of the evil one. For the effect of
the latter is not like that of the former: those of Satan
result in dryness of spirit, in a tendency to self-esteem, to
accept and make much of visions: and in no degree whatever
do they produce the gentleness of humility, and love of God.
Again, the forms of the diabolic visions do not remain
impressed on the soul with the sweet clearness of the others,
neither do they endure, yea, rather, are immediately effaced,
unless it be when the soul attaches itself to them: in that
case the importance attached to them causes them to be
remembered naturally, but with great dryness of spirit, and
without the fruit of humility and love, which issue out of the
good visions, whenever they recur to the memory.
These visions, inasmuch as they are visions of created
things, between which and God there is no congruity or
proportion, cannot subserve the intellect as proximate means
of the Divine union. It is, therefore, necessary for the soul
to be negatively disposed with respect to them, as well as
to the others, if it is to advance by the proximate means,
* 8. Matt. iv.8; vide S. Thom. 3, p. q. 41,a.2,3; Abulensem in Matt.
iv. q. 49. ;
INWARD SELF-DENIAL THE WAY TO GOD. 173
which is Faith. And therefore the forms which these visions
show, and which remain impressed on the soul, must not
be treasured up nor preserved, neither must we trust to
them; for this would be to embarrass ourselves by dwelling
on forms, images, and persons, which relate to the interior
life, and not to advance in the denial of all things
onwards unto God. For supposing that these forms are
continually present, that would be no great hindrance, if we
make no account of them. Though it be true that the
recollection of them excites the soul to a certain love of
God, and to Contemplation, yet pure faith and detachment in
darkness excites it much more, without the soul’s know-
ing how or whence it cometh. The end of this will be that
the soul goes forward, on fire with the anxieties of the most
pure love of God, without knowing whence they come or on
what foundations they rest. In short, as faith is rooted
and infused more and more into the soul, in this emptiness
and darkness, in detachment:from all things, in poverty of
spirit — these are different expressions of one and the same
thing —so also the Charity of God is the more rooted and
infused into the soul. And therefore the more the soul
strives to become blind and annihilated as to all interior
and exterior things, the more it will be filled with Faith and
Love and Hope. But this love at times is neither compre-
hended nor felt, because it does not establish itself in the
senses with tenderness, but in the soul with fortitude, with
greater courage and resolution than before; though it some-
times overflows into the senses, and shows itself tender and
gentle.
In order, then, to attain to this love, joy, and delight
which visions effect, it is necessary that the soul should
have fortitude, and be mortified; so as to abide willingly in
emptiness and darkness, and to lay the foundation of its
love and delight on what it neither sees nor feels, on what
CHAP.
Effective and
affective
love.
BOOK
II.
Second
source,—
Spiritual
Revela-
tions,—what,
174 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
it cannot see nor feel—namely, on God Incomprehensible and
Supreme. Our way to Him is therefore, of necessity, in self-
denial. Even if a soul were so wise, strong, and humble
that the devil could not delude it by visions, nor make it
presumptuous, as he generally does, it will make no pro-
gress, because it puts obstacles in the way of spiritual
detachment and poverty of spirit, and emptiness in faith,
the essential conditions of the Divine union.
As the principles established in the nineteenth and the
twentieth chapters, concerning the visions and supernatural
apprehensions of the senses, are applicable to these visions
also, I shall not spend further time’ now in treating of them
at greater length.
CHAPTER XXV.
Of Revelations: their nature and division.
I HAVE now to speak, in the order laid down, of the spiritual
apprehensions, which I have called Revelations. Of these,
some properly belong to the spirit of Prophecy. In the first
place, a revelation is nothing else but the disclosure of some
hidden truth, or the manifestation of some secret or mystery.
For instance, God permits a certain soul to understand a
particular matter, declaring the truth of it to the intellect,
or makes known certain things that He hath done, is doing,
or intends to do. This being so, we may say that there are
two kinds of revelations: one, the disclosure of truths to the
intellect, properly called intellectual knowledge or intelli-
gence ; the other, a manifestation of secrets, and this is called
revelation with more propriety than the former. The first
kind, strictly speaking, cannot be called revelation, because
it consists in God’s making the soul to understand pure truths,
“SPIRITUAL REVELATIONS. 175
regarding not only temporal but also spiritual things, show-
ing them openly and distinctly. I have resolved to treat of
them under the term Revelations — first, because of their
XXV.
mutual connection and proximity, and, secondly, because I -
would not multiply distinctions.
I distinguish revelations therefore into two kinds of appre-
hensions — intellectual knowledge, and the manifestation of
the secrets and hidden mysteries of God. I shall conclude
the subject, with the utmost brevity, in two chapters; and, ©
first, of intellectual knowledge.
—
CHAPTER XXVI.
The Intelligence of pure truths. Two kinds thereof. The conduct of
é the soul therein.
Tue intelligence of pure truths requires, for its proper
explanation, that God should hold the hand and wield the
pen of the writer. Keep in mind, my dear reader, that
these matters are beyond all words. But as my purpose is
not to discuss them, but to teach and direct the soul through
them to the Divine union, it will be enough if I speak of them
concisely within certain limits, so far as my subject requires it.
This kind of visions, or rather of knowledge of pure truths,
is very different from that described in the twenty-second
chapter, for it is not the same with the intellectual visions of
bodily things. It consists in understanding or seeing with
the intellect the truths of God, or of things, or concerning
things which are, have been, or will be. It is most like to
the spirit of Prophecy, as I shall perhaps hereafter explain.
This kind of knowledge is twofold: one relates to the Creator,
the other to creatures. And though both kinds are most
full of sweetness, the delight produced by that which relates
to God is not to be compared to aught beside; and there are
Its definition
and division.
BOOK
I.
1, Super-
natural
intuition of
God and His
Attributes.
176 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
neither words nor language to describe it, for it is the know-
ledge of God Himself and His delights; as the Psalmist
saith, ‘There is no one like to Thee.’*
This knowledge relates directly unto God, in the deepest
sense of some of His Attributes; now of His Omnipotence,
now of His Might, and again of His Goodness and Sweetness ;
_ and-whenever the soul feels it, it is penetrated by it. In so
far as this becomes pure Contemplation, the soul sees clearly
that it cannot describe it otherwise than in general terms,
which the abundance of delight and happiness forces from
it; but still those are not adequate expressions of what it
feels within. Thus David, haying had experience of this
state, makes use of ordinary words, saying, ‘ The judgments
of the Lord,’ that is, what we judge and feel about God, His
Might and His Attributes, ‘ are true, justified in themselves,
more to be desired than gold and many precious stones, and
sweeter than honey and the honeycomb.’ t
When God gave Moses the knowledge of Himself, while
passing by, all that Moses could say was uttered in ordinary
words. For when the Lord passed before him he fell pro-
strate on his face, and said, ‘O the Lord, the Lord God,
merciful and gracious, patient and of much compassion and
true, Who keepest mercy unto thousands!’{ It is evident
from this that Moses was unable to describe what he learned
of God in that particular knowledge, and so gave utterance
to these words. And though at times, when this knowledge is
vouchsafed to the soul, words are uttered, yet the soul knows
full well that it has in nowise expressed what it felt, because it
is conscious that there are no words of adequate signification.
Thus S. Paul, admitted to this knowledge of God, did not
attempt to express it, only saying that he had ‘ heard secret
words which it is not granted to man to utter.’ §
* Ps, xxxix. 6. + Ps. xviii. 11.
{ Ex. xxxiv. 6, 7. § 2 Cor. xii. 4.
INFUSED KNOWLEDGE OF GOD. 177
This Divine knowledge concerning God never relates to
particular things, because it is conversant with the Highest,
and therefore cannot be explained unless when it is extended
to some truth less than God, which is capable of being
described ; but this general knowledge is ineffable. It is
only a soul in union with God that is capable of this pro-
found loving knowledge, for it is itself that union. This
knowledge consists in a certain contact of the soul with the
Divinity, and it is God Himself Who is then felt and tasted,
though not manifestly and distinctly, as it will be in glory.
But this touch of knowledge and of sweetness is so deep and
so profound that it penetrates into the inmost substance of
the soul, and the devil cannot interfere with it, nor produce
anything like it—because there is nothing else comparable
with it—nor infuse any sweetness or delight which shall at
all resemble it. This knowledge savours, in some measure,
_ of the Divine Essence and of everlasting life, and the devil
has no power to simulate anything so great.
Nevertheless, the devil is able to produce certain pre-
tended imitations of it, by representing to the soul a certain
grandeur and sensible fulness, striving to persuade it that
this is God; but he cannot so do this that his influence shall
penetrate into the interior part of the soul, renew it, and fill
it with love profoundly, as the knowledge of God does. For
there are some acts of knowledge and touches of God, wrought
by Him in the substance of the soul, which so enrich it that
one of them is sufficient, not only to purge away at once
certain imperfections, which had hitherto resisted the efforts
of a whole life, but also to fill the soul with virtues and
Divine gifts. Such is the sweetness and deep delight of
these touches of God, that one of them is more than a recom-
pense for all the sufferings of this life, however great their
number. They render the soul so generous and so courageous
VOL. I. N
CHAP.
XXVI.
Bliss and
Power of the
Touches of
God.
BOOK
178 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
in the endurance of afflictions for God, that it becomes a
special pain to see its tribulations diminished.
Now the soul can never ascend to the height of this know-
ledge by any reflections or imagination, because it transcends
all these, and so God effects it without the cooperation of the
soul. Sometimes, when the soul least thinks of it, and when
it least. desires it, God touches it divinely, causing certain
recollections of Himself. Sometimes, too, the Divine touches
are sudden, occurring even while the soul is occupied with
something else, and that occasionally of trifling moment.
They are also so sensible and efficacious, that at times they
make not only the soul, but the body also, to tremble. At
other times they come gently, without any agitation what-
ever, accompanied by a deep sense of delight and spiritual
refreshing.
On other occasions, they come at the hearing or utterance
of particular expressions, whether taken from the Holy
Scripture or elsewhere. But they are not always equally
sensible and efficacious, for they are very often exceedingly
slight ; but however slight they may be, one of these recol-
lections and touches of God is more profitable to the soul
than ahy other knowledge of, or meditation on, the creatures
and works of God. And as this knowledge is communicated
- suddenly, and independently of the will, the soul must not
strive to receive it, or strive not to receive it, but be humble
and resigned ; for God will do His own work, how and when
He will. I do not say that the soul is to conduct itself
negatively here, as in the case of the other apprehensions;
because the Divine touches are a part of the Union, to which
I would direct the soul, and for attaining unto which I teach
it to withdraw and detach itself from all besides. The
means by which God effects this great work must be humility
and patient suffering for love of Him, with resignation and
indifference as to all reward. These graces are not bestowed
i os ee ~
INFUSED KNOWLEDGE OF CREATURES. 179
on the soul which cleaves to anything of its own, inasmuch
as they are wrought by an especial Love of God towards the
soul, which also loves Him in perfect detachment and pure
disinterestedness. This is the meaning of those words of our
Lord, ‘ He that loveth Me shall be loved of My Father: and I
will love him, and will manifest Myself to him.’* These words
refer to this knowledge and these touches, of which I am speak-
ing, and which God manifests to the soul that truly loves Him.
The second kind of knowledge, or of visions of interior
truths, is very different from this, being of things greatly
lower than God. It includes the perception of the truth of
things in themselves, of actions and events in the world.
Such is the nature of this knowledge, whenever it is given,
that it compels assent, without regard to any assertion on the
part of others; even if the matter be told otherwise, the soul
is unable to assent interiorly to that account, though it may
do violence to itself for that end. The mind perceives some-
thing else in that which had been spiritually presented to it,
and sees it,as it were, clearly. This may belong to the spirit
of Prophecy, or to that gift which S. Paul calls ‘the discern-
ing of spirits. f Still, though the soul may hold what it
perceives to be certain and true, it must not on that account
refuse belief and obedience to its spiritual director, though
his counsels contradict the impressions received. This must
be done in order that the soul may be directed in Faith to
the Divine union, towards which it should journey by be-
lieving rather than by understanding.
The Holy Scriptures furnish clear evidence of both the one
and the other. The particular knowledge of things is thus
spoken of by the Wise Man: ‘He hath given me the true
knowledge of the things that are: to know the disposition
of the whole world and the virtues of the elements. The
* S$. John xiv. 21. + 1 Cor. xii. 10,
nN 2
2. Super-
natural
Intuition of
Creatures,—
its certainty,
BOOK
I.
Infused
knowledge of
Solomon,
Gratie gratis
datee.
180 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
beginning and ending, and midst of the times; the alterations
of their courses, and the changes of seasons; the revolutions
of the year, and the dispositions of the stars; the natures
of living creatures, and the rage of wild beasts; the force
of winds, and reasonings of men; the diversities of plants, and
the virtues of roots; and all such things as are hid and not
foreseen, I have learned: for Wisdom, which is the worker of
all things, taught me.’* And though this knowledge of all
things, which the Wise Man says he had received from God,
was infused and general, the passage before us is sufficient
evidence for all the particular knowledge which God infuses
into souls supernaturally, according to His good pleasure:
not that He gives a general habit of knowledge, as He
gave to Solomon, but that He reveals occasionally certain
truths concerning those matters which the Wise Man
speaks of. .
Though our Lord infuses into many souls habits of know-
ledge relating to many things, still He does not infuse them
so generally as in the case of Solomon. There is a difference
like that between the gifts, mentioned by 8. Paul, which God
distributes; among these are wisdom, knowledge, faith,
prophecy, discerning of spirits, divers kinds of tongues, and
interpretation of speeches: ‘ To one indeed, by the Spirit, is
given the word of wisdom....and to another the word of
knowledge, ... to another faith,. .. to another prophecy, to
another the discerning of spirits, to another divers kinds of
tongues, to another interpretation of speeches.’f All these
kinds of knowledge are infused graces gratis date, gra-
tuitously given of God to whom He will, as He gave them to
the holy Prophets and the Apostles, and to other Saints.
But over and above these gifts, or graces gratis date,
perfect persons, or those who are advancing to Perfection,
* Wisd. vii. 17-21. + 1 Cor. xii. 8-10,
ee ee ee
- DISCERNMENT OF SPIRITS. 181
very frequently receive the knowledge of things present or
distant, in a certain illumination of their purified and en-
lightened mind. The following words are applicable in this
sense: ‘As the faces of them that look therein, shine in the
water, so the hearts of men are laid open to the prudent.’*
This is to be understood of those who have attained to the
Science of the Saints, in Holy Scripture called Prudence.f
In the same way, too, spiritual persons understand other
things, though not always when they will: for this gift is
theirs only who have the habit of this knowledge, and even
they sometimes are at fault, because all this depends on the
good pleasure of God. >
Those persons, whose minds are purified, ascertain with
great facility, some better than others, what is passing in the
hearts of men, their inclinations and their capacities; and
this from certain outward signs, however slight they may be,
such as expressions, motions, or gestures. As the devil,
being a spirit, can do this, so also the spiritual man, accord-
ing to the words of the Apostle: ‘The spiritual man judgeth
all things,’ { and ‘the Spirit searcheth all things, even the
deep things of God.’§ Therefore, though spiritual men
cannot, in the order of nature, know the thoughts and in-
tentions of others, yet by supernatural enlightenment,
through certain signs, they may well do so. And though
they may be often deceived in their interpretation of these
signs, yet for the most part they will be correct. But we
are not to rely on any of these means, for the devil may
insinuate himself herein with exceeding cunning, as we
shall presently see, and in consequence of this, we must
renounce this method and form of knowledge.
Spiritual persons are able to see, though distant, what
* Prov. xxvii. 19. +. ED< 1k, 10.
t 1 Cor. ii. 15. § Tb. 10.
CHAP.
Science of
the Saints.
BOOK
IL
182 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
other men are doing. We have an instance of this in our
—— holy Father Eliseus, who saw his servant Giezi hide the gifts
‘Infused
‘knowledge of
Eliseus.
he had received from Naaman. ‘ Was not my heart present,’
saith the Prophet, ‘ when the man turned back from his
chariot to meet thee?’* Eliseus saw in spirit the act, as if
he had been present on the spot. The same Prophet saw
also what passed in the council of the King of Syria, and
revealed it to the King of Israel, thereby frustrating the
devices of the former. So when the King of Syria saw that
his plans became known to his enemy, he complained to
his people, saying: ‘Why do you not tell me who it is
that betrays me to the King of Israel? And one of his
servants said, No one, my Lord O King; but Eliseus the
prophet that is in Israel, telleth the King of Israel all the
words, that thou speakest in thy privy chamber.’ f
Both the one and the other kind of this knowledge of
events are granted to the soul passively, without effort on
its part. For it sometimes occurs that a person, while not
thinking at all of the matter, receives in spirit a vivid per-
ception of what he hears or reads, and that with greater
distinctness than the words involve; and sometimes, too,
even when he knows not the language to which the words
belong, the knowledge of the matter is conveyed to him
without his being able to explain the terms that imply it.
As to the delusions which the devil is able to effect, and
does effect, with reference to this knowledge, I have much
to say. Those delusions are very great and very difficult of
detection ; for the devil, by way of suggestion, is able to
represent much intellectual knowledge to the soul, by the
use of the bodily senses, and is able to establish that know-
ledge so firmly as to make it appear true; and if that soul be
not humble and cautious, he will no doubt cause it to believe
* 4 Kings y. 26. + Ib. vi. 11, 12.
it . > ake Ta oe
= a im i Sp ray ae
=." : 2 o
:
r
=
y
:
ete ae ae
1 a elt ool
ce een: Oe tet oF .
: re
SATAN AS THE FATHER OF LIES. 183
an infinity of lies. For the suggestions of the devil offer
great violence to the soul at times, especially because the
senses are weak; and he plays on that weakness with such
force, persuasiveness, and determination, that much prayer
and repeated efforts become necessary, in order to shake off
his influence.
He is wont occasionally to reveal, falsely, but with great
distinctness, the sins of others, evil consciences, and corrupt
souls, with a view to detraction, and to induce him, to whom
the revelation is made, to publish the sins in question, so
that other sins may be added to them. He excites a false
zeal, deluding him, in whom he excites it, into the belief that
these revelations are intended to lead him to pray for the
souls of those whom he thus traduces. It is indeed true
that God sometimes represents to holy souls the necessities
of their neighbours, that they may pray for them, or relieve
them. He revealed to Jeremias the weakness of Baruch,
that he might advise him therein.* But most frequently it
is the devil that doeth this, and that falsely, that persons
may be accused of sin, and afflicted: of this we have many
proofs. At other times, he communicates with much cer-
tainty other kinds of knowledge, and induces men to believe
them.
All such knowledge as this, whether it comes from God or
not, can be but of little profit to the soul in the Way of Per-
fection, if it trusts to it: yea, rather, if it is not careful to
reject it, it will not only hinder it on its road, but will
inflict upon it great evil, and cause it to fall into many
delusions; for all the dangers and inconveniences of the
Supernatural Apprehensions, and many more, are to be found
here. I shall, therefore, not enlarge further on this point;
seeing that I have already given sufficient instruction on this
* Jerem. xlv.
necessary for
Perfection,
BOOK
Tl.
Second kind
of Revela-
tions,—
Disclosure of
Mysteries.
184 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
matter, and shall say but this, that the penitent must be
careful to reject this knowledge, walking with God in the
way of knowing nothing, and to give account to his director
of it all, and abide constantly by his advice.
Let the director guide his penitent quickly past this, and
not suffer him to dwell upon it, because it is of no help to
him on the road to the Divine union. For as I have said of
those things which are passively wrought in the soul, the
fruit which God wills, remains behind. I do not, therefore,
think it requisite to describe the effects of this knowledge,
whether true or false, for my task in such a case would be
wearisome and endless. The effects in question cannot be
described within reasonable limits, for as the knowledge is
manifold, so are the effects of it. The true knowledge brings
forth good issues, tending to good; and the false knowledge
evil, tending to evil. When I say that this knowledge is to
be rejected, and how it is to be done, I have said enough.
CHAPTER XXVIL.
Of the second kind of Revelations, the disclosure of secrets and hidden
mysteries. How they may subserve and hinder the Divine union.
Of the many delusions of the devil incident to them.
I EXPLAINED the second kind of revelations to be the mani-
festation of secrets and hidden mysteries. This again is
twofold. One relates to God Himself, and includes the
revelation of the Mystery of the Most Holy Trinity and the
Divine Unity. The second relates to God in His operations,
and includes all the other articles of the Holy Catholic
Faith, and the truths explicitly resulting therefrom. It
includes also a great number of prophetic revelations,
promises, and threatenings of God, and other matters which
have already been accomplished, and which shall hereafter
————
"
2 ep a a ly IN
= aah
ects
PARTICULAR REVELATIONS. 185
occur. We may also refer to this second kind of revelations,
many other particular events which God ordinarily reveals,
as well concerning the world in general, as also concerning
particular Kingdoms, Provinces, States, families, and persons.
_ We have abundant evidence of all this in the Holy Scrip-
tures, especially in the books of the Prophets, where we meet
with revelations of all kinds.
But as this matter is perfectly plain and clear, I will not
spend my time in adducing the proofs; but content myself
with saying, that these revelations are not always expressed
in words, for God makes them in many and in divers ways.
Sometimes He makes them by words alone, and sometimes
by signs alone, figures, images, and resemblances, and at
other times by both signs and words together; as we see in
the Prophets, particularly in the Apocalypse, where we find
not only the kinds of revelations here spoken of, but also the
divers modes by which they are made.
God still in our day makes revelations of the second kind.
He reveals to some individuals how long they shall live,
what trials they have to endure, or what will befall such and
such a person, such or such a kingdom. And even with
regard to the mysteries of our Faith, He is wont to reveal the
truths thereof by a special light and meaning. This, how-
ever, is not properly a revelation, because the matter of it
has been already revealed, but rather a manifestation and
explanation of it.
In those things, therefore, which we call revelations — I
am not now using the word as relating to the Revelation of
the mysteries of Faith—the devil may interfere on a great
scale. For as these revelations are generally expressed by
words, figures, and similitudes, the devil may also imitate
the same most easily. If, however, in the first and second
kind, in that which touches the Faith, any new or different
revelation be made, we are in no wise to give heed to it; no, not
CHAP.
XXVI,
Revelations
divided into
1. De Deo ad
intra,
2. De Deo ad
extra.
Revelations
tested by the
Catholic
Faith.
BOOK
II.
‘The devil
likened to a
cobbler.
186 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
even if we learned it from an angel from Heaven. ‘ Though
we or an angel from Heaven,’ saith the Apostle, ‘ preach a
gospel to you beside that which you have received, let him
be anathema.’* No new revelations are to be admitted in
the matter of that once made, beyond what may be consistent
with it, lest we should go astray by admitting contradictions,
and lose the purity of Faith. We must captivate the in-
tellect, and cleave in simplicity to the Faith and teaching of
the Church, ‘ for faith,’ saith S. Paul, ‘ cometh by hearing.’ f
No man will give heed or credit easily to new revelations,
unless he has a mind to be deceived.
The devil with a view to deceive mankind, and propagate
delusions in the world, begins by publishing truth, and what
is likely to be true, in order to gain our confidence. He
resembles herein a cobbler, who with the sharp bristle at the
end of his thread penetrates the leather, and then draws
after it the soft and waxened part, which never could have
penetrated the leather by itself, without being preceded by
the hard bristle. Great circumspection is necessary here;
for though it were true that the soul ran no risk of delusion,
yet is it more becoming that it should not desire clear
knowledge, so that it may preserve the merit of its faith in
its purity and integrity, and come in this Night of the In-
tellect to the Divine light of Union.
It is of the utmost moment for us to close the eyes
of our intellect, when a new revelation is brought to us,
and rest on the ancient prophecies. The Apostle himself,
though he had seen the glories of Tabor, writes, ‘We have
the more firm prophetical word, whereunto you do well to
attend.’ { Though the vision which we saw on the Mount
was true, yet the more certain and more firm is the word of
revealed Prophecy, on which you do well to rest your souls.
* Galat. i. 8. Tt Rom. x. 17. t 2S. Pet. i. 19.
)
me A ma
es OL -
FAITH SAFER THAN REVELATIONS. 187
If it be true, for these reasons, that we ought not to
regard with curiosity any new revelations on the subject-
matter of the Faith; how much more ought we also, not to
admit, or to give heed to, other revelations relating to other
matters? It is in these that the devil in general is so
strong, that I think it impossible to escape his delusions in
many of them, if we do not strive to repel them; such ap-
pearance of truth and certainty does the devil throw around
them. He unites together so many probabilities, and all so
consistently arranged, in order to gain credit, and roots
them so firmly in the senses and the imagination, that the
subject of them believes them without any hesitation what-
ever. He makes the soul trust to them so completely, that
if it were not humble, it could scarcely be persuaded of their
falsehood and disentangled from his delusions.
For this cause, therefore, the pure, simple, cautious, and
humble soul ought to resist and reject these revelations and
other visions ; for it is not necessary to seek them, yea rather
it is necessary to reject them, if we are to attain to the Union
of Love. This is the meaning of Solomon when he said,
‘ What needeth a man to seek things that are above him ?’*
That is, it is not necessary. for Perfection, by supernatural
and extraordinary ways, to seek supernatural things which
are beyond our reach.
Having, in the nineteenth and twentieth chapters, replied
to the objections that may be brought forward, I now refer
the reader thereto, and conclude the discussion of revelations
of this sort: it being sufficient to have said that the soul
ought to be very prudent in the matter, that it may walk
in pureness, without illusions, in the Night of Faith, to the
Divine union.
* Eccles. vii. 1.
CHAP.
xXXvVIil.
BOOK
IL.
Third source
of super-
natural
knowledge,—
iritual
Locutions.
Three kinds:
1. Successive.
2. Formal.
3. Substan-
tial.
188 ‘THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Of the interior Locutions which occur supernaturally. Their different
kinds.
Ir is necessary for the reader to keep in mind continually
the end and object which I have in view — namely, the
direction of the soul, through all its natural and super-
natural apprehensions, without illusion or perplexity, in
pureness of faith to the Divine union with God — that he
may perceive that Iam not too concise; though I do not
enter into divisions and subdivisions of the subject, while
treating of the apprehensions of the soul, as, perhaps, the -
intellect might require. On the whole, I think I have
furnished sufficient advice, information, and warning, to
enable the soul, by a prudent behaviour, in all these interior
and exterior matters, to make progress onwards. This isthe
reason why I have so soon dismissed the subject of Prophecy
like the rest, having at the same time much to say of each
kind according to their distinctive characteristics, which are
so many that I should never accomplish my task. I am
satisfied that I have said enough about them, and that I
have given the true doctrine and the requisite cautions with.
reference to them, and to every other matter of a like nature
that may pass within the soul.
I shall pursue the same course with the third kind of ap-
prehensions, the Supernatural Locutions of spiritual men,
which are effected without the instrumentality of the cor-
poreal senses. These locutions, notwithstanding their variety,
may be comprised under three designations: Successive,
Formal, and Substantial Words. By Successive Words I
mean certain words and considerations which the mind, self-
recollected, forms and fashions within itself. By Formal,
I mean certain distinct and definite words, which the mind
receives not from itself but from a third person, sometimes
re Pee fe Perm ~-
—————
INTERIOR WORDS HEARD BY THE SOUL. 189
while in a state of self-recollection, and at other times while
not. By Substantial, I mean other words which are also
formally in the mind, sometimes while it is recollected, and
sometimes while it is not. These words produce and effect
in the innermost soul that substance and power of which
they are the expression. I shall speak of these in the order
I have named them. .
CHAPTER XXIX.
Of the first kind of words formed by the mind self-recollected. The
causes of them. The advantages and disadvantages of them.
At all times when Successive Words take place, it is
when the mind is collected and absorbed by some particular
subject; and while attentively considering the matter which
oceupies its thoughts, it proceeds from one part of it to
another, puts words and reasonings together so much to
the purpose, and with such facility and clearness discovers
by reflection things it knew not before, that it seems
to itself as if it was not itself which did so, but some
third person which addressed it interiorly, reasoning, answer-
ing, and informing. And in truth there is good ground for
such a notion ; the mind then reasons with itself as one man
does with another, and to a certain extent it. is so. For
though it be the mind itself that thus reasons, yet the Holy
Ghost very often assists it in the formation of these con-
ceptions, words, and reasonings. Thus the mind addresses
itself to itself as if to some other person.
For as the intellect is then united, and intently occupied,
with the truth of that whereof it thinks, and as the Holy Spirit
is also united with it; the intellect in this communion with
the Divine Spirit, through the channel of that particular
truth, forms successively within itself those other truths which
CHAP.
XXViil.
Successive,
BOOK
II.
The Holy
Ghost may
teach
a truth,
which the
mind puts
into words,
190 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
relate to the matter before it; the Holy Ghost, the Teacher,
opening the way and giving light. This is one way in which
the Holy Ghost teaches us. The understanding, being thus
enlightened and instructed by the great Teacher, while per-
ceiving these truths, forms at the same time the words in
question about those truths which it receives from another
source. We may apply to this the saying of Isaac, ‘ The voice,
indeed, is the voice of Jacob; but the hands are the hands of
Esau.’* He who is in this state cannot believe that the words
and expressions do not proceed from some third person, not
knowing how easily the intellect can form words about con-
ceptions and truths which it derives from another person.
Now, though it is true that there can be no illusion in this
communication, and in the enlightenment of the intellect;
still illusions may, and do, frequently occur in the formal
words and reasonings which the intellect forms about them.
Inasmuch as the light then bestowed is most subtle and
spiritual, so much so that it is beyond the capacity of the
intellect, the result is that the intellect in its own strength
forms these reasonings which in consequence are often false,
apparently true, or imperfect. When a man has the clue
of a true principle and then deals with it by his own
abilities, or in the ignorance of his weak understanding,
it is an easy thing for such an one to, fall into delusions, and
that too, in this way, as if a third person were addressing him.
I have known one who had these Successive Locutions, but
who, on the subject of the Most Holy Sacrament of the
Eucharist, amid some most true, had others full of error.
I am terrified by what passes among us in these days.
Anyone, who has barely begun to meditate, if he becomes
conscious of these locutions during his self-recollection,
pronounces them forthwith to be the work of God, and,
* Genes. xxvii. 22.
— -
pe 4 ae
- DELUSIONS OF SELF-LOVE. 191
considering them to be so, says, God has spoken to me, or,
I have had an answer from God. But it is not true: such
an one has been only speaking to himself. Besides, the
affection and desire for these locutions, which men encourage,
cause them to reply to themselves, and then to imagine that
God has spoken. The consequence is that they fall into
great disorders, if they do not restrain themselves, and if
their spiritual director does not command them to abstain
from these interior discourses; for the fruit of them is
foolishness. and impureness of soul, and not the spirit of
humility and mortification. They think that these locutions
are great things, that God has been speaking to them, when in
truth all was little more than nothing, or nothing, or less than
nothing. For what is that worth which does not beget humility
and charity, mortification, and holy simplicity and silence ?
These locutions, then, may prove a great impediment to the
Divine union, because they lead astray the soul, that thinks
much of them, from the abyss of Faith, where the intellect
ought to abide in obscurity, and in obscurity advance by
faith in love, and not by much reasoning.
You will object, and say, Why must the intellect deny
itself in these truths, seeing that the Spirit of God enlightens
it in them, and that they cannot for that reason proceed from
the evil one? I answer, the Holy Ghost enlightens the re-
collected intellect, and in proportion to its recollection ; and,
as there can be no greater recollection of the intellect than
in Faith, the Holy Ghost will not enlighten it in any other
way more than in that of Faith. For the more pure and
complete the soul in the perfection of a living Faith the
greater is the infusion of Charity, and the greater the Charity
the greater the illumination, and the more abundant the
graces. Though it be true that in this illumination some
light is given to the soul, yet the light of Faith, wherein
nothing is clearly seen, is in kind as different from it as refined
CHAP,
XXIX.
Men deceived
by their own
words,
True test of
worth,—
what.
~
oo
Faith, the
greatest
Light of the
Holy Ghost,
BOOK
Il.
192 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
gold from base metal, and in quantity as the sea exceeds
a drop of water. In one way the soul receives the know-
ledge of one, two, or three truths; but in the other the
Wisdom of God generally, which is His Son, in one simple
universal knowledge communicated to the soul by Faith.
If, again, you object and say that this is all good, and that
it hinders not the other; my answer is, that it hinders it very
much if the soul makes any account of it; for by doing so
the soul occupies itself with evident matters and of little
moment, which impede the communication of the abyss of
faith, wherein God supernaturally and secretly teaches the
soul, and trains it up, in a way it knows not, in virtues and
in graces. We shall never profit by these Successive Locu-
tions if we deliberately contemplate them with the intellect,
for if we do this we shall lose all the good of them, as it is
written, ‘Turn away thy eyes from me, for they have made
me flee away.’* We must therefore simply and sincerely,
without applying the intellect to the matter of these super-
natural communications, direct the will lovingly to God,
because it is by love that these blessings are bestowed, and
that in greater abundance than before. If the powers of the
intellect, or of our other faculties, be actively applied to
these things which are supernaturally and passively received,
we shall find that our incapacity and ignorance will not
reach them. They will therefore be modified and changed,
and so we shall of necessity incur the hazard of delusions
while forming these reasonings within ourselves. This will
be neither supernatural itself, nor will in any respect resemble
it, but will be something most natural and common.
There are some men whose intellect is so quick and
penetrating that their conceptions, when they are self-
recollected, naturally proceed with great facility, and form
* Cant. vi. 4.
Se oi ee
*
TRUE ROAD TO SPIRITUAL GOOD. 193
themselves into these locutions and reasonings so clearly as
to make them think that God is speaking. But it is not so.
All this is the work of the intellect, somewhat disengaged
from the operations of sense; for it may do this and even
more without any supernatural help whatever, by its own
natural light. This is a state of things of frequent occur-
rence, and many delude themselves into the belief that they
have acquired the gift of prayer, and that God converses
with them: they write down, or cause others to write for
them, what they have experienced. And after all it is
nothing: without the substance of virtue, and serving to no
other end than to minister food to vanity.
Let such persons learn to disregard these locutions, and to
ground the will in humble love; let them practise good
works, and suffer patiently, imitating the Son of God, and
mortifying themselves in all things: this, and not the abun-
dance of interior discourses, is the road unto spiritual good.
These Interior Successive Locutions furnish occasions to the
evil spirit, especially: when persons have an inclination or
affection for them. For when they begin to recollect them-
selves, the devil offers to them materials for discursive
reflections, suggesting thoughts and expressions to the intel-
lect ; and then, having deceived them by things that appear
to be true, casts them down to the ground. Such is his
dealing with those, who have entered into a compact with
him, tacit or expressed. Thus he converses with some
heretics, especially with heresiarchs; he informs their intel-
lect with most subtle thoughts and reasonings, false, however,
and erroneous.
It appears, then, that these Successive Words may proceed
from three sources: from the Holy Spirit, moving and en-
lightening; from the natural light of the intellect; and from
the evil spirit suggesting. It will be rather a difficult matter
to describe the signs and tokens, by which it may be known
YOL. I. )
CHAP.
XXIX.
Satan as a
logician,
Their distinc-
tive marks,
194 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
from which of these sources particular locutions proceed, but
some general notions may be given. When the soul loves,
and at the same time is humbly and reverently conscious of
that love, itis a sign that these locutions come from the Holy
Ghost, Who, whenever He grants us these graces, grants them
through love. When they come from the vivacity and light
of the intellect only, it is that which effects them without any
operation of virtue—though the will may love naturally in
the knowledge and light of those truths—and, when the
meditation is over, the will remains cold, though not inclined
to vanity or evil, unless the devil shall have tempted us
anew. The Locutions of the Holy Ghost cannot issue in this,
for when they are over, the will is usually affectionately dis-
posed towards God, and inclined to good, though sometimes,
certainly, the will may be dry, even after the communications
of the Holy Spirit, God thus ordering it for the profit of
particular souls. At other times, too, the soul will not be
very sensible of the operations or motions of these virtues,
and yet what passes within will have been good. This is
why I bave said that it is sometimes difficult to distinguish
one from another, because of the various effects which they
sometimes have. The effects I have mentioned are the most
common, though sometimes more, and sometimes less
abundant.
The evil Locutions are occasionally hard to distinguish, for,
though they dry up the love of God in the will, and incline
men to vanity, self-esteem, or complacency; still they beget
at times a certain false humility and fervent affection of the
will founded on self-love, which requires for its detection
great spirituality of mind. This the devil brings about, the
better to conceal his presence. He is able perfectly well to
produce tears by the impressions he makes, and he does so
that he may inspire the soul with those affections, which he
’ desires to excite. But he always labours to move the will so
|
|
FORMAL INTERIOR WORDS. 195
that men shall esteem these interior communications, and
make much account of them, in order to induce them to -
give themselves up to them, and accupy themselves with
what is not virtue, but rather an occasion of losing what
virtue they may have.
Let us, therefore, abide by this necessary caution, in order
to escape all perplexity and delusions; never to make any
account of these Locutions, from whatever source they may
come, but learn how to direct our will courageously to God
in the perfect fulfilment of His law and holy counsels, which
is the Wisdom of the Saints, content with the knowledge of
those truths and mysteries, in simplicity and sincerity, as the
Holy Church sets them forth, for these are sufficient to inflame
our will; without thrusting ourselves into deep and curious
investigations, where the absence of danger is a miracle. It
was with reference to this that S. Paul exhorts us ‘not to
be more wise than it behoveth to be wise.’* Let this suffice
on the subject of successive words.
CHAPTER XXX.
Of Interior Words formally wrought in a Supernatural way. Of the
dangers incident thereto ; and a necessary caution against delusions,
‘Tue second kind of interior locutions are Formal Words,
uttered in the mind sometimes supernaturally, without the
intervention of the senses, whether in a state of recollection
or not. I call these Formal Words, because the mind formally
perceives they are spoken by a third person, independently
of its own operations. or this reason they are very different
from those of which I have just spoken. They differ from
them, not only because they take place without any effort of
* Rom. xii. 3.
02
CHAP,
Second kind
of interior
Words,—
Formal,
BOOK
ow Als
Explanation
of Formal
Words.
1. Their ob-
jective cha-
racter.
2. Their con-
straining
power.
God increases
repugnance,
to ect
the Will.
196 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
the mind, but sometimes even when the mind is not recol-
lected, but far from thinking of what is uttered within it.
This is not so in the case of Successive Words, for these always
relate to the matter which then occupies the mind. The
locutions of which I am now speaking are sometimes per-
fectly formed, sometimes not, being very often, as it were,
conceptions, by which something is said, at one time in the
way of an answer, at another by another mode of speaking.
Sometimes it is one word, at another two or more, and occa-
sionally successive words, as in the former case: for they
continue in the way of instruction to the soul, or of discussion
with it. Still all takes place without the active participation
of the mind, for it is asif another person were then speaking,
as we read in Daniel, who says that an Angel instructed
him and spoke. This was formal successive reasoning and
instruction: the Angel says, ‘I am now come forth to teach
thee.’ *
When these Locutions are no more than formal, the effect
on the mind is not great. They are in general sent only to
instruct and enlighten us on a particular subject; and it is
not necessary for this purpose, that they should have another
effect different from that, for which they are sent. And so
whenever they come from God, they effect their object in the
soul; for they render it ready to accomplish what is com-
manded, and enlighten it so that it understands what it hears.
They do not always remove the repugnance which the soul
feels, but rather increase it; and this is the operation of God,
the end of which is the more perfect instruction, humiliation,
and profit of the soul. This repugnance is in general the
result, when great and noble deeds are commanded; and
there is greater promptitude and facility, when vile and
humiliating things are enjoined. Thus when Moses was
* Dan. ix, 22.
DETACHMENT FROM FORMAL WORDS. 197
commanded to go unto Pharao, and deliver the people of cup.
Israel, he felt so great a repugnance for his task, that God —————
was obliged to command him three times, and show him
signs. And after all, this was not sufficient until God gave
him Aaron, as his partner in the work, and a partaker of his
dignity.
On the other hand, when these locutions are from the evil God exalts
spirit, great things are readily undertaken, but humble occu- 7.
pations become repugnant. God hates to see men inclined to
greatness and honour; for when He bids them accept dig-
nities, and when He bestows them Himself, He wills not that
they should be accepted with readiness and willingness.
_ Formal Words differ, as to that readiness which God com-
- municates, from the other Successive Words: these do not
influence the mind so much, neither do they communicate to
_ itso much readiness; that is an effect of the former, by reason
of their greater formality, and because the intellect has less to
_ dowith them. Still this does not prevent successive locu-
_ tions from having occasionally a greater influence, because of
the great intercourse, that takes place at times, between the
human spirit and the Divine. But there is a great difference
in the manner. In the formal locutions the soul has no
doubt about them, whether they come from itself or not;
for it sees clearly that they do not—especially when it was
not thinking of the subject to which they relate; and even
when that subject occupied its thoughts, it sees most clearly
_and distinctly, that the locutions proceed from another.
We must not make much of these Formal Locutions any
_ more than of the Successive. For over and above the
_ occupation of the mind with that, which is not the legitimate
and proximate means of Union with God, namely Faith,
there is also the too certain risk of diabolical delusions.
We can scarcely distinguish at times what locutions come
‘from a good, and what from an evil, spirit. And as the
BOOK
p Il.
Cautions,
198 | THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
effects of them are not great, we can hardly distinguish them
by that test; for sometimes the diabolic locutions have a
more sensible influence on the imperfect, than the Divine
locutions on spiritual, persons. We must, also, not obey
them at once, whether they come from a good or evil spirit.
But we must not neglect to manifest them to a prudent con-
fessor, or to some discreet and learned person, who shall
teach us, and decide for us, what we ought to do; and when
we have had his decision, we must be resigned and indif-
ferent in the matter. If we cannot find such a person, a
man of experience, it is better in that case, accepting the
substance of them, and what is safe, to disregard the rest,
and to reveal the matter to no one; for it is easy to find
persons who destroy souls instead of edifying them. It is
not everyone who is fitted for the direction of souls, it being
a matter of the last importance to give right or wrong
advice in so serious an affair as that.
Remember, too, that we must never do of our own head,
or accept, anything told us in these locutions, without great
deliberation and reflection. So subtle and so singular are
the illusions incidental to them that, in my opinion, no soul,
who does not deal with them as with an enemy, can possibly
escape delusions in a greater, or less degree, in many of them.
Having in the seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth, and
twentieth chapters of this book, deliberately discussed these
illusions and dangers, and the cautions to be observed, I
shall not enlarge upon them here. I content myself with
saying, that the real and secure teaching on the subject is,
not to give heed to them, however plausible they may be,
but to be governed in all by Reason, and by what the Church
has taught and teaches us every day.
ir — nay ae
SUBSTANTIAL INTERIOR WORDS. 199.
CHAPTER XXXI.
Of the Interior Substantial Locutions: the difference between them and
the Formal. The profitableness of them. The resignation and reverence
of the soul in respect of them.
Tue third kind of interior locutions are the Substantial
Words. Though these are also formal, inasmuch as they are
formally impressed on the soul, they differ from them in
this; the substantial locutions produce a vivid and sub-
stantial effect in the soul, while those locutions which are
only formal do not. Though it be true that every substantial
locution is also formal, yet every formal locution is not sub-
stantial; but only that which really impresses on the soul
what it signifies. Thus, if our Lord were to say formally signity
to a particular soul, Be thou good; that soul would imme-
diately be good. Or, Love thou Me; that soul would at
once have and feel in itself the substance of love, that is, a
true love of God. Or, again, if He were to say toa timid
soul, Be not afraid; that soul would on the instant become
courageous and calm. For ‘The Word of God,’ saith the
wise man, ‘is full of power..* Thus, what the locution
meaneth is substantially accomplished in the soul. This is
the meaning of those words of David: ‘ He will give to His
voice the voice of power.’t Thus, also, dealt He with
Abraham, when He said unto him, ‘Walk before Me, and
be perfect.’ Abraham was then perfect, and ever walked
reverently before God.
This is the power of His word in the Gospel, by which
_ He healed the sick and raised the dead, by a word only.
Such, too, are His Substantial Locutions; they are of such
price and moment, as to be the life and strength and the
* Eccles, viii. 4. t+ Ps. lxvii. 34. ¢ Genes. xvii. 1.
BOOK
Il.
2. Their inde-
pendence of
3. Their free-
dom from
illusions.
Not Satan,
but the Will
enslaves the
soul.
200 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
‘incomparable good of souls; for one locution of God does for
the soul far more at once, than that soul has done for itself
in its whole past life. |
The soul is not called upon to do or attempt anything
with regard to these locutions, but to be resigned and
humble. It is not called upon to undervalue or fear them,
nor to labour in doing what they enjoin it. For God by
means of these substantial locutions works in and by the
soul Himself. And herein they differ from the formal and
successive locutions. The soul need not reject these locu-
tions, for the effect of them remains substantially in the
soul, and full of blessing; and therefore the action of the
soul is useless, because it has received them passively.
Neither need the soul be afraid of illusions here, for these
locutions are beyond the reach of the intellect or the evil
spirit. The devil cannot passively produce this substantial
effect in any soul whatever, so as to impress upon it the
effect and habit of his locution; though he may, by his
suggestions, lead those souls in whom he dwells as their lord,
in virtue of their voluntary compact with him, to perform
deeds of exceeding malignity. For he is able to influence
them easily, because they are united to him voluntarily in
the bonds of iniquity. We see, by experience, that even
good men suffer violence from his suggestions, which are
exceedingly strong; but if men are evilly disposed, his
suggestions then are more efficacious.
But the devil cannot produce any effects resembling those
of the Divine Locutions, for there is no comparison possible
between his locutions and those of God. All his are as if
they were not, in presence of the Divine, and their effects
as nothing compared with the effects of God’s locutions.
This is the meaning of those words of the Prophet: ‘ What
hath the chaff to do with the wheat? . . . Are not My
words as a fire, and as a hammer that breaketh the rock in
SUPERNATURAL SPIRITUAL IMPRESSIONS. 201
pieces?’* Thus the Substantial Locutions conduce greatly
to the Union of the soul with God; and the more interior
they are, the more substantial are they and the more pro-
fitable. Blessed then is that soul to which God sends His
locutions: ‘ Speak Lord, for Thy servant heareth.’ t
CHAPTER XXXII.
Of Intellectual Apprehensions resulting from the Interior Impressions
supernaturally effected. The sources of them. The conduct to be
observed by the soul, so that these apprehensions shall not hinder it
on the Way of Union.
Ir remains for me now to discuss the fourth and last kind of
apprehensions, which those spiritual impressions, frequently
effected supernaturally in spiritual men, produce in the
intellect. Those impressions I have reckoned among the
distinct apprehensions of the intellect.}
There are two kinds of these Distinct Spiritual Impres-
sions. The first kind is in the affection of the will. The
second, though also in the will, yet because it is most in-
tense, high, profound, and secret, seems not to touch the
will, but to have been wrought in the very substance of the
soul. Both the one and the other are extremely diversified.
The first, when from God, is very high; but the second is
the highest, of great profit and advantage. But neither the
soul that receives them, nor its director, can ever know their
sources, or why God effects them; they do not depend in
any way upon good works or meditation, though these dis-
pose us for them. God sends them to whom, and why, He
wills.
Sometimes a person who has done many good works will
never have these touches, and another of inferior merit, will
* Jerem. xxiii, 28, 29, f 1 Kings iii, 10, t Bk. ii. ¢. 10.
Of two kinds,
; 202 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK have them most profoundly and most abundantly. It is not
necessary, therefore, for the soul to be actually occupied
The Spirit with spiritual things — though thatis the better state —in
where He order to be the object of the Divine touches, of which these
impressions are the result, for they frequently occur when
the soul is heedless of them. Some of these touches are
distinct, and pass rapidly away ; others less so, but of longer
~ continuance.
Sie actin These Impressions — so far as they come under this de-
tote scription of them — do not appertain to the intellect but to
— the will. I shall therefore not discuss them now, but
reserve them for the treatise on the Night, or Purgation of
the Will in its affections, which will form the third book.
As in general, and even very frequently, a more express and
perceptible apprehension, knowledge, and understanding,
flow from these impressions into the intellect, it is necessary
to mention it here only for that purpose.
' We must, therefore, remember that, from all these
impressions, whether the Divine touches which cause them,
be rapid, or continuous and successive, there flows frequently
into the intellect the apprehension of knowledge or under-
standing; which is usually a most profound and sweet sense
of God, to which, as well as to the impression from which it
flows, no name can be given. This knowledge comes, some-
times in one way, sometimes in another, now most deep and
clear, again less so, according to the nature of the Divine
touches, which occasion the impressions, and according to the
nature of the impressions, of which it is the result.
It is not necessary to waste words here in cautioning and
directing the Intellect, amid this knowledge, in Faith to the
Divine union. For as these impressions are passively wrought
in the soul, without any cooperation on its part; so also the
knowledge which results from them, is passively received
by the intellect—Philosophers apply the term passible to
THE INTELLECT CAUTIONED. 203
the intellect—independently of its own exertions. In order,
therefore, to escape delusions here, and not to hinder the
benefits of these impressions, the intellect ought not to
meddle with them, but to remain passive, inclining the will
to consent freely and gratefully, and not interfering itself.
For, as in the case of the Successive Locutions, the activity of
the intellect can very easily disturb and destroy this delicate
knowledge, which is a sweet supernatural intelligence, which
no natural faculty can reach or comprehend otherwise than
by the way of recipient, and never by that of agent. No
effort, therefore, should be made, lest the intellect should
fashion something of itself, and the devil at the same time
effect an entrance into the soul with false and strange know-
ledge. He is well able to do this, through the channel of
these impressions, by taking advantage of the bodily senses.
Let the soul be resigned, humble and passive, for as it
receives passively from God this knowledge; so will He
communicate it, of His own good pleasure, when He sees it
humble and detached. By so living, the soul will put no
obstacles in the way of the profitableness of this knowledge
for the Divine union: and that profitableness is great. All
these touches are touches of Union, which is passively effected
in the soul.
The whole teaching of this book on the subject of total
abstraction and passive Contemplation, whereby we abandon
ourselves into the hands of God—in the forgetfulness of all
created things, in detachment from images and figures, and
dwelling on the supreme truth in pure contemplation —is
applicable, not only to the act of most perfect contemplation
—the profound and altogether supernatural repose of which
is disturbed by ‘the daughters of Jerusalem,’* namely, good
meditations and reflections, if we then attempt them— but
* Cant. iii. 5. See Spiritual Canticle, stanza 29, Introd., and Flame
of Love, stanza 3, § xi.
Recapitula-
tion,
BOOK
Advice to the
Reader to be
simple and
candid,
204 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
also to the whole of that time, in which our Lord communi-
cates the simple, general, and loving attention, of which I
have made mention before, or when the soul, assisted by
grace, is established in that state. For then we must con-
trive to have the intellect in repose, undisturbed by the
intrusion of forms, figures, or particular knowledge, unless it
were slightly and for an instant, and that with sweetness of
love, to enkindle our souls the more. At other times, how-
ever, in all our acts of devotion and of good works, we must
make use of good recollections and meditations, so that we
may feel an increase of profit and devotion; most especially
applying ourselves to the life, passion, and death of Jesus
Christ our Lord, that our life and conduct may be an imita-
tion of His.
Let this suffice for the Supernatural Apprehensions of the
intellect, so far as the guiding thereof through them, in
faith, to the Divine union, is concerned. I think I have said
enough on the subject: for the instructions and cautions
already given will be found ample with regard to all that
may occur in the intellect. And if anything should be met
with of a different nature, and not comprised in the dis-
tinctions laid down—though I do not imagine that there can
be anything which cannot be referred to one of the four
kinds of distinct knowledge—what I have said of those that
resemble them will suffice. .
I now proceed to the third book; where, by the help of
God, I shall speak of the interior spiritual purgation of the
will from its interior affections. This is the Active Night.
I therefore entreat the discerning reader to consider what
I write in simplicity and candour: for when these qualities
are wanting, however perfect and profound the teaching may
be, he will not profit by it, neither will he value it as it
deserves. And much more will this be the case in the
present instance, because of the deficiencies of my way of
writing.
a
nos he reas Ca SA
—
mnie \ Nh shabiatind
205
BOOK IL
THE PURGATION AND ACTIVE NIGHT OF THE MEMORY AND THE
WILL.
ARGUMENT.
The Intellect, which is the first power of the soul, being now in-
structed, with regard to all its apprehensions, in the first Theological
Virtue, namely Faith, so that the soul, according to this power, may
be united to God in pureness of faith; it remains for me now to do
the same with respect to the two other powers, Memory and Will,
showing how they too are to be purified in all their acts, so that the
soul, according to them also, may be united to God in perfect Hope
and Charity. I shall do this briefly in this third book. For having
concluded that which relates to the Intellect, the receptacle of all
objects that pass through the Memory and the Will—and that goes
a great way towards the full execution of my purpose—it is not so
necessary to enlarge on the subject of these two powers; because, in
general, the spiritual man who shall have well directed his Intellect
in Faith, according to my teaching, will also, by the way, have done
as much for the Memory and the Will in the matter of Hope and
Charity: for the operations of these virtues are mutually dependent
the one on the other. But, as it is necessary—that I may observe
the same order, and be the better understood—to speak of the proper
and determinate matter, I shall treat of the acts of each of these two
faculties, distinguishing between them according to the method of
my subject. That distinction arises out of the distinction between
their objects, which are three, Natural, Supernatural Imaginary,
and Spiritual. The knowledge of the Memory, following these
distinctions, is also threefold: Natural, Supernatural Imaginary, and
Spiritual. I shall treat of these here, by the grace of God, beginning
with natural knowledge, which is conversant with the most exterior
objects; and I shall afterwards speak of the affections of the Will,
and then conclude this third book, the subject of which is the Active
Spiritual Night.
BOOK
Ii.
The Reader
cautioned,
206 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
CHAPTER I.
Of the Natural Apprehensions of the Memory: which is to be emptied
of them, that the soul, according to that faculty, may be united with
God.
T is necessary to keep in mind the special object of each
of these books; for otherwise the reader will be perplexed
by what he reads, as he may have been by what I said about
the Intellect, and as he may be now by what I say of the
Memory, and what I have to say hereafter of the Will. For
when he observes, that I teach the annihilation of these
powers in the matter of their operations; he will perhaps
imagine, that I am destroying, and not building up, the
spiritual edifice. This objection would be valid, if my pur-
pose here was to instruct only beginners, who are to be
conducted onwards by means of these discursive and tangible
apprehensions. But as I am teaching how to advance by
Contemplation to the Divine union—for which end all these
means, and the sensible exertion of the powers of the soul
must cease and be silent, in order that God in His own way
may bring that Union to pass—it is necessary to release the
faculties and to empty them, and to make them renounce
their natural jurisdiction and operations, in order that the
Supernatural may fill and enlighten them; seeing that the
ability of them cannot compass so great a matter, but rather,
unless suppressed, prove a difficulty in the way. And as it
is most true that the soul knoweth God, rather by what He
is not, than by what He is; it follows of necessity that if we
are to draw near unto Him, it must be by denying and re-
nouncing to the uttermost, all that may be denied, of our
apprehensions, natural and supernatural alike. We shall,
therefore, apply this process to the Memory: driving it
away out of its natural position and elevating it beyond
REFORMATION OF THE MEMORY. 207
itself, that is, beyond all distinct knowledge and palpable
comprehension, to the highest hope of God Who is Incom- —-———
prehensible.
I begin with Natural Knowledge. The natural knowledge of
the Memory is all that knowledge it can form about the objects
of the five bodily senses: hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting
and touching, and all else of the like kind. The Memory
must be denuded and emptied of all this knowledge and of all
these forms; it must labour to destroy all apprehension of
them, so that no impression whatever of them shall be left
behind ; it must forget them, and withdraw itself from them,
and that as completely as if they had never entered into it.
Nothing less than the annihilation of the Memory as to all
these forms will serve, if it is to be united with God. For
that union can never take place without a, total disunion
from these forms which are not God, for God is without
form; neither is He the object of any distinct knowledge
whatever, as I have said while treating of the Night of the
Intellect.
*No man,’ saith our Redeemer, ‘can serve two masters,’ *
so the Memory cannot be perfectly united with God, and at the
same time with forms and distinct knowledge. And as God
is without form or image, on which the memory may dwell,
so when the Memory is united with God—as we see by daily
experience —it remains without form or figure, with the
imagination destroyed, and itself absorbed in supreme
felicity, in profound oblivion, remembering nothing. The
Divine union expels every fancy, and shuts out all forms and
knowledge; it elevates the Memory to that which is super-
natural, leaving it in such deep forgetfulness that it must
do violence to itself, if it will remember anything at all.
Such at times is this forgetfulness of the Memory, and
* S. Matt. vi. 24.
The Memory
to be purified,
and elevated,
BOOK
Does God de-
stroy Nature?
No; the na-
tural powers
are perfected
in God.
208 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
suspension of the imaginative powers, because of the union
of the memory with God, that time passes by unheeded, and
what took place in the interval cannot be known. When the
imaginative powers are held in suspense, there is no sense
of pain even when pain is inflicted; for without imagina-
tion there is no sense, not even in thought, because it exists
not. If God is to bring about this Perfect Union, the
Memory must be severed from all acts of knowledge of
which it is capable. But it is to be observed, that this
suspension never occurs thus in those’ who are perfect,
because they have attained already to the perfect union,
and this suspension relates to the commencement of that
estate.
You will, perhaps, object and say: All this is very well, but
the principle involves the destruction of the natural usage
and course of our faculties, and reduces man to the level of
a brute beast, forgetful of all things, and what is worse,
without reflection or recollection of his natural wants and
functions. Surely God does not destroy nature, but rather
perfects it; but its destruction is the natural issue of this
doctrine, for man forgets all moral and rational motives, and
all natural acts; he remembers nothing, because he regards
not the forms and knowledge in question, which are means
of recollection. |
To this I reply: the more the Memory is united to God
the more it loses all distinct knowledge, and at last all such
fades utterly away, when the State of Perfection is reached.
In the beginning, when this is going on, great forgetfulness
ensues, for these forms and knowledge fall into oblivion,
men neglect themselves in outward things, forgetting to eat
or drink; they do not remember whether they have done or
left undone a particular work, whether they have seen such
things or not, or whether such and such things have been
mentioned to them; and all this because the Memory is lost
GRACE PERFECTS NATURE. 209.
in God. But he who has attained to the habit of Union does
not forget, in this way, that which relates to moral and
natural Reason ; he performs with much greater perfection all
necessary and befitting actions, though by the ministry of
forms and knowledge, in the memory, supplied in a special
manner by God. In the State of Union, which is a super-
natural state, the memory and the other faculties fail as to
their natural functions, and rise beyond their natural objects
upwards unto God, Who is Supernatural,
_ And thus, then, when the Memory is transformed in God,
no permanent forms or knowledge can be impressed upon it;
the operations of the memory, therefore, and of the other
powers in this state are, as it were, Divine; God has entered
into possession, by this transformation, as their absolute
Lord ; guides and governs them Himself divinely by His own
Spirit and Will, as it is written, ‘He who is joined to the
___ Lord is one spirit ;’* and therefore the operations of the soul
in the State of Union are the operations of the i Ghost,
and, consequently, Divine.
Now, the actions of such souls only are what they ought
to be, and reasonable, and not what they ought not to be;
because under the influence of the Holy Ghost they know
what they ought to know, are ignorant of what they ought
to be ignorant, remember what they ought to remember,
forget what they ought to forget, love what they ought to
love, and love not that which is not God, Thus in general
the first motions of the faculties of these souls are, as it
_ were, Divine. There is nothing wonderful in this, seeing
that they are transformed in the Divine Nature.
_ I will explain my meaning by the following illustration.
A person in the State of Union is requested to pray for a
certain individual, Now he will never remember to do what
* 1 Cor. vi. 17.
VOL. IL P
BOOK
II.
Prayer and
Work of the
ect man,
Example of
the Blessed
Virgin,
210 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
is asked of him, by reason of anything whatever remaining
in his memory; but ‘if it be right so to pray — which it
will be when God shall be pleased to hear that prayer —
God will then move the will and excite a desire to pray.
On the other hand, if it be not the Will of God to hear
that prayer ; let that person do what he may, he will never
pray as he was requested, neither will he have any desire
to do so. Sometimes God will make him pray for others,
whom he never knew or heard of. This is the effect of a
particular influence of God exerted over these souls, whom
He directs to perform certain actions according to the dis-
position of His Will. The actions and the prayers of such
souls always attain their end.
So it was with the Glorious Mother of God. _ Perfect from
the first, there was no impression of creatéd things on her
soul, to turn her aside from God, or in any way to influence
her; for her every movement ever proceeded from the Holy .
Ghost.
Again. A perfect man has at a given time a certain in-
dispensable business to transact. He has no recollection
whatever of it; but in some way he knows not, it will present
itself to his mind, through that stirring of his Memory of
which I speak, at the time and in the way it ought, and
that without fail. It is not only in these matters that the
Holy Ghost enlightens the soul, but in many others, present,
future, and distant—men knowing not how the knowledge
thereof comestothem. Butit comes from the Divine Wisdom,
because they exercise themselves in knowing or apprehend-
ing nothing, which can obstruct their course. It comes to
them in general, as I said in the beginning, while speaking
of the Mount, so that they do all things; as it is written,
‘ Wisdom, which is the worker of all things, taught me.’*
* Wisd. vii. 21.
GOD ALONE TO BE REMEMBERED. 211
You will say, perhaps, that the soul cannot so empty and
deprive the Memory of all forms and fantasies, as to reach a
state so high; for there are two things to be done which are
beyond the forces and abilities of man; namely, to cast what
is natural aside, and touch, and unite with, the Supernatural,
which is the most difficult, and, in truth, impossible for
A _ mere natural strength. God, indeed, must raise it up into
this supernatural state; but the soul, so far as it can, must
also be in good dispositions, which it may acquire by the
help which God supplies. And so when the soul rejects
these forms and empties itself of them, God causes it to enter
into the enjoyment of this Union. When God does this, the
soul is passive, as I shall explain in speaking of the Passive
Night; and He will then bestow upon it the habit of Perfect
Union, proportional to its good dispositions, when it shall
seem to Him good todo so. I do not speak of the Divine
effects of the perfect union, as they relate to the Intellect on
_ the one hand, to the Memory and the Will on the other, in
_ connection with this Night and Active Purgation, for the
_ Divine union is not here complete; but I will do so in con-
nection with the Passive Bigs in which the soul is united
with God.
_ I speak here only of the necessary means of purifying the
Memory, so that, so far as itself is concerned, it may enter
actively upon this Night and Purgation. The spiritual man
- must observe this precaution: never to treasure up or retain
in the memory anything he may see, hear, taste, touch, or
- smell; but to let them pass away, forgetting them, and never
- reflecting upon them, unless when it may be necessary to do so
) inorder toa good meditation. But this deliberate forgetful-
_ ness, and rejection of all knowledge and of forms, must never
_ be extended to Christ and His Sacred Humanity.
_ Sometimes, indeed, in the height of Contemplation and
_ pure intuition of the Divinity, the soul does not remember
P2 .
CHAP.
I.
God the Au-
thor of the
Superna-
BOOK
Iii.
212 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
the Sacred Humanity, because God elevates the mind to this,
as it were, confused and most supernatural knowledge; but
The Sacred
Humanity to
be kept in
Memory.
God abides in
those who
abide in Him,
for all this, studiously to forget It is by no means right, for
the contemplation of the Sacred Humanity, and loving medi-
tation upon It, will help us up to all good, and it is by It we
shall ascend most easily to the highest state df Union.
It is evident at once that, while all visible and bodily
things ought to be forgotten, for they are an impediment in
our way, He, who for our salvation became man, is not to be
accounted among them, for He is the Truth, the Door, and
the Way, and our Guide unto all good.
Let the spiritual man, then, take this for granted. Let
him aim at complete abstraction and forgetfulness; so that,
as much as possible, no knowledge or form of created things
—as if they existed not—shall remain in his Memory, so
that the memory thus emptied and free may be wholly for
God, lost as it were, in holy oblivion.
If, again, doubts are raised and objections made, as before
with regard to the Intellect, to the effect that in this way we
shall be doing nothing, losing our time and depriving our-
selves of those spiritual blessings, of which the Memory serves
as a channel; I can but answer that I have replied to them
here as I did before, and that there is no reason why I
should dwell longer upon them at present. Only let us
remember, that if for a time this forgetfulness of all know-
ledge and forms is not felt to be profitable, the spiritual
man must not therefore grow wearied; for God will draw
near in His own time, and that for so great a blessing we
ought to wait long, and patiently persevere in Hope.
Though it is true that we shall scarcely meet with anyone,
who in all things and at all times is under the direct influence
of God, whose union with Him is so continuous that his
faculties are ever Divinely directed; still there are souls,
which for the most part in their operations are under the
EVILS OF UNDISCIPLINED MEMORY. 213
guidance of God, and these are not souls which move them-
selves; this is the sense of S. Paul, when he said that the
sons of God—those who are transformed, and united in Him—
‘are led by the Spirit of God,’* to accomplish Divine actions
in their faculties. This is nothing strange, for these opera-
tions must be Divine, seeing that the union of the soul is
Divine.
CHAPTER II.
Three kinds of Evils to which the soul is liable, when not in darkness,
with respect to the knowledge and reflections of the Memory. Ex-
planation of the first, :
TuE spiritual man is subject to three evils and inconveniences,
if he persists in the use of the natural knowledge of the
Memory, with a view to drawing near unto God, or for any
other purpose. Two of them are positive, and the third is
negative. The first proceeds from the things of this world;
_ the second from the devil; and the third, which is negative,
consists in the hindrance to the Divine union, which this
knowledge brings with it.
The first, proceeding from the things of this world, is a
subjection to many kinds of evils, the result of this know-
ledge and reflection, such as falsehoods, imperfections, desires,
opinions, waste of time, and many other things which greatly
defile the soul. It is clear, that in yielding to these notions
and reflections, we must fall into many errors; for very often
what is false seems to be true, what is certain, doubtful, and
the contrary; seeing that we can scarcely ever ascertain
_ thoroughly a single truth. From all these we shall escape,
_ if we make the memory blind to these notions and re-
_ flections, ;
* Rom, viii. 14.
. CHAP,
BE
BOOK .
Ii.
Creatures to
be banished
from Me-
mory.
214 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Imperfections beset the Memory at every step in all we hear,
see, smell, touch, and taste ; for these touch certain affections,
such as pain and fear and hatred, useless hopes, empty joy,
or vain glory. All these at least are imperfections, and
sometimes undoubted venial sins; things which disturb per-
fect purity and simple union with God. Desires also are
certainly excited, for the knowledge and reflections in question
naturally produce them, and a mere disposition to retain
these reflections furnishes food for desire. We are also liable
to many a trial through our own opinions, because the
memory must err in the recollection of the good and evil of
others; for sometimes evil is taken for good, and good for
evil. No man, as I believe, can ever escape these evils, who
does not blind his memory as to all such matters.
If you say that a man may easily overcome all these trials,
when they come upon him, I answer, that it is utterly im-
possible, if he gives heed to these reflections; for they involve
innumerable follies, and some of them so subtle and minute
that they cling to the soul unawares, like pitch to the hand
that has touched it. I repeat, then, that the best way to
overcome them is to do so at once, banishing them utterly
out of the memory.
The purely
good to be
held in Me-
mory.
You will further object and say, that the soul thus de-
prives itself of many good thoughts and meditations about
God, and which are most profitable to it in the blessings they
bring with them. TI answer, all that is purely God and
promotes this pure simple general and confused knowledge,
is not to be rejected, but only what detains the Memory on
images, forms, figures, and similitudes of created things.
And in order that God may accomplish this purgation, pure-
ness of soul is most profitable—that pureness which consists
in not setting the affections thereof on any created or tran-
sitory things, and in not regarding them ; for in my opinion,
the opposite conduct will not fail to make a deep impression
GOD HEARD IN THE SILENCE OF MEMORY. 215
because of the imperfection, which cleaves to the powers of cuap.
the soul in their operation. It is, therefore, much better to
impose silence on the faculties, that God may speak. In
order to attain to this state, the natural operations must
cease. This takes place, as the Prophet saith, when the soul
comes into solitude with its faculties, and when God speaks
to the heart: ‘I... will lead her into the wilderness, and
I will speak to her heart.’*
But if you still object and say, that the soul will profit spiritual i-
nothing, if the Memory does not reflect and dwell upon God, Temely for
and that it will be liable to much tepidity and distraction—
I answer, it is impossible; for if the memory be entirely
withdrawn from the things of this life and of the next, no evil,
no distraction, no folly or vice can enter within it—such
things insinuate themselves through the wandering of the
memory—for then there is no way by which they can enter, nor
anything to give occasion to them. This certainly would be
the case, if we opened the door to the consideration of earthly
things, while it is shut against that of heavenly things: but
we shut the door against everything which is prejudicial to
Union, and out of which distractions may come, bringing the
memory into silence, that: the Spirit only may be heard;
and saying with the Prophet, ‘Speak, Lord, for Thy servant
heareth.’t Such also is the state of the Bride; for the
Bridegroom saith of her, ‘ My sister, my spouse is a garden
enclosed, a fountain sealed up,’{ so that nothing may enter
within.
Let the soul, therefore, be ‘enclosed’ without anxiety or The River of
alarm; and He Who, when the doors were shut, entered j
bodily in among His disciples, and said, ‘ Peace be unto you,’ §
in an unexpected and inconceivable way, will enter spiritually
into the soul without its knowledge or cooperation, when
* Os, ii, 14, + 1 Kings iii. 10.
¢t Cant. iy. 12, § S. John xx, 19.
"
216 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
_ BOOK the doors of Memory, Intellect, and Will are shut, and will fill
——— it with His peace, turning into it the river of peace, as it is
written, ‘ O that thou hadst hearkened to My commandments;
thy peace had been as a river.”* And He will take away all
misgivings, and suspicions, all uneasiness and darkness, which
made the soul afraid that it was already, or on the point of
being, lost. Be, therefore, earnest in prayer, and hope in
detachment and emptiness: thy good will not tarry.
CHAPTER III.
Of the second evil, coming from the evil spirit through the Natural
Apprehensions of the Memory.
Besond orl, TuE second positive evil, to which the soul is liable from the
thedevil. notions of the Memory, comes from the devil, who by these
means has great power over it. For he can heap forms upon
forms, and thereby infect the soul with pride, avarice, envy,
and hatred. He can also excite unjust enmities, vain love,
and delude us in many ways. Besides, he is wont so to
impress matters on the fancy, that falsehood seems true, and
truth false. Finally, all the greatest delusions of Satan, and
the evils of the soul, enter in through these notions and
forms of the memory. Now if the memory were blind to
these things, and annihilated in forgetfulness of them, it
would shut the door against the evil spirit, so far as this evil
is concerned, and free itself wholly from these things, which
would be a great blessing. The evil spirit cannot molest the
soul but through the operations of its faculties, and chiefly
by the help of forms and fancies: for upon these depend,
more or less, all the operations of the other faculties. And,
therefore, if the memory annihilates itself as to them, the
* Ts, xlviii, 18.
cad : *
2
ic. ie
, . : - : af . 7 :
HINDRANCES OF THE NATURAL MEMORY. 2i7
devil can do nothing; because he can find nothing to lay hold CHAP.
of, and without something of that kind he can do nothing ~~~ _
whatever.
Would that spiritual directors could clearly see, how great
are the evils, which the wicked spirits inflict upon souls
through the Memory, when they make use of it; what sad-
ness and affliction and vain joys they occasion, both with
regard to the things of God and the things of the world;
what impurities they leave rooted in the mind, distracting it
so profoundly from that supreme self-reeollection, which con-
sists in fixing all the powers of the soul on the One Incompre-
hensible Good, and withdrawing them from all objects of
sense. This emptying of the memory, though the advan-
tages of it are not so great as those of the State of Union, yet,
merely because it delivers souls from much sorrow, grief,
and sadness, besides imperfections and sins, is in itself a
great good.
CHAPTER IV.
Of the third evil, proceeding from the Distinct Natural Knowledge of
the Memory.
Tue third evil, to which the soul is liable from the Natural TRS
Apprehensions of the Memory, is negative. These apprehen-
sions can impede moral, and deprive us of spiritual, good.
And, first of all, to show how they impede moral good, we rem st
must keep in mind, that moral good consists in curbing the
passions, and in restraining our disorderly appetites; the
result of which is peace, tranquillity, and rest, which apper-
tain unto moral good. But this curbing and restraining of
the passions is impossible for any soul, that does not forget
and withdraw from all those things, by which its affections
are excited; and no trouble is ever produced in the soul but
BOOK
Ii.
Means and
fruits of the
Moral Order
of the Soul.
.
2. Deprives
of Spiritual
good,
Moral Justice
the founda-
tion of Spi-
ritual Perfec
tion.
218 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
by the apprehensions of the memory. For if we forget all
things, there is then nothing to disturb our peace or to excite
our desires; seeing that, as they say, what the eye has not
seen the heart does not desire.
This is a truth of daily experience: whenever the soul
broods over anything, it is changed or disturbed, be it much
or little, according to the measure of its apprehension. If
the subject of its thoughts be serious and disagreeable, it
elicits feelings of sadness or dislike; if, on the other hand,
the subject be pleasant, its feelings are those of joy and
desire. The inevitable result of these changing apprehen-
sions is interior disorder: joy and grief, hate and love suc~
ceed each other, and there is no possibility of preserving a
uniform state—which is an effect of moral tranquillity—but
by the studious oblivion of all these. It is, therefore, quite
clear that this knowledge of the memory greatly impedes the
good of the moral virtues.
A cumbered Memory also impedes the mystical or spiritual
good; for the disturbed soul, having no foundation of moral
good is, so far, incapable of that which is spiritual, because
this enters into no soul, that is not under control and ordered
in peace. Besides, if the soul cleaves and gives heed to the
apprehensions of the memory—it can attend to but one
thing at a time—if it occupies itself with apprehensible
things, for such are the notions of the memory, it is impossible
that it can be at liberty for the Incomprehensible, which is
God. For, as I have already said,* the soul that will draw
near unto God must do so by not comprehending, rather
than by comprehending; it must change the mutable and
the comprehensible for the Immutable and Incomprehensible.
* Book ii. ch. 8.
Be oe oe 4 Ne ee Meta aa Ps
ae ee ied he oer) : ore hae
EFFECTS OF PURIFIED MEMORY. 219
CHAPTER Y.
The profitableness of forgetfulness, and emptiness with regard to all
thoughts and knowledge, which naturally occur to the Memory.
Tue evils which flow into the soul, through the Apprehensions Hap.
of the Memory, suggest to us the opposite benefits, which
result from forgetting them and emptying ourselves of them ; Three hene-
because, as natural Philosophers say, the doctrine of con- siren
traries is the same.
In the first place, the soul enjoys tranquillity and peace of 1. Peace of
‘mind, because it is delivered from the harassing vexations of
thoughts and notions of the memory; and, in consequence,
what is of more importance, the conscience is pure. This
state is a preparation for human and Divine wisdom, and for
the acquisition of virtue.
In the second place, it is delivered from many suggestions, 2. Vistors:
temptations, and assaults of Satan, who, through these
thoughts, insinuates himself into the soul, and at least causes
it to fall into many impurities and, as I have said, into sin;
as it is written, ‘They have thought and spoken wickedness.’ *
So when these thoughts are driven away, the devil has no
weapon wherewith to assail the soul.
In the third place, while the soul is self-recollected, and 3. Prepara-
forgetful of all things, it is then prepared for the influence Holy Spirit.
and teaching of the Holy Ghost, Who ‘will withdraw Him-
self from thoughts that are without understanding.’t Even
if we derived no greater benefit, from this forgetfulness and
emptiness of the memory, than our deliverance from pain
and trouble, that of itself is a great gain and blessing; because
the pain and troubles, occasioned by the adversities of this
life, bring no relief with them, but rather aggravate those
* Ps. xxii. 8. + Wisd. i. 5.
BOOK
Tit.
The cure for
- the ills of life.
220 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
adversities in general, and hurt the soul. For this it was
that made David say, ‘Surely man passeth as an image, yea,
and he is disquieted in vain.’* And in truth, every man
disquieteth himself in vain; for it is clear that disquietude is
always vanity, because it serves to no good. Yea, even if
the whole world were thrown into confusion, and all things
in it, disquietude on that account is vanity, for it hurts us
more than it relieves us. To endure all things, with an
equable and peaceful mind, not only brings with it many
blessings to the soul; but it also enables us, in the midst of
our difficulties, to have a clear judgment about them, and to
minister the fitting remedy for them.
Solomon knew well the advantage of this disposition.
‘I have known,’ saith he, ‘that there was no better thing
than to rejoice, and to do well in his life ;’ —that is, in all
the events of this life, however adverse they may be, the
Wise Man bids us rejoice rather than be sad, that we may
not lose that greatest good, peace of mind in adversity as
well as in prosperity, bearing all things alike. This peace of
mind no man will ever lose, if only he will forget these
notions and cast aside thoughts, and withdraw from the sight,
and hearing, and discussion of matters so far as it is pos-
sible for him. We are naturally so frail and weak, that, in
spite of all self-discipline, we can scarcely avoid stumbling
on the recollection of many things, which disturb and dis-
quiet our mind; though it may have been once established in
peace and tranquillity, oblivious of all things. This is the
meaning of the Prophet when he said, ‘I will be mindful
and remember, and my soul shall languish within me.’ t
* Ps, xxxviii. 7. + Eccles, iii, 12, t Lam. iii. 20.
RELATION BETWEEN MEMORY AND HOPE. 291
CHAPTER VI.
Of the second kind of Apprehensions: the Imaginary and Supernatural.
THovGH, while treating of the first kind of Natural Apprehen-
sions, I also sufficiently explained the Imaginary, which are
also natural, it was necessary to make this division, because
of the attachment of the Memory to other forms and notions
of Supernatural things: such are Visions and Revelations, §
Locutions and Impressions, which come upon us in a super-
natural way. When these things have happened to the soul,
the image, form, or figure of them remains impressed upon
it, in the memory or the fancy; and sometimes that im-
pression is exceedingly vivid. It is necessary to caution men
on this subject: that the memory may not be perplexed by
these images, and that they may not prove an impediment
to union with God in the purity and integrity of Hope.
I say, then, that in order to attain that blessing, the soul
must never reflect upon those objects, which have been
clearly and distinctly present to it in a supernatural way, so,
as to preserve the forms, notions, and figures of them. We
must always keep this principle before our eyes; the more
the soul attends to any clear and distinct apprehension,
natural or supernatural, the less will be its capacity and dis-
position for entering into the abyss of Faith, wherein all
things else are absorbed. For, as I have before maintained,
no supernatural forms or knowledge, of which the memory
takes cognizance, are God: they bear no proportion to Him,
neither can they serve as proximate means of union with
Him. The soul, if it is to draw near unto God, must empty
itself of all that is not God ; and the memory, therefore, must
also get rid of all forms and knowledge, in order to be united
to Him in the way of perfect and mystical Hope.
CHAP,
VI.
Second kind
of Apprehen-
sions,—Me-
BOOK
Im.
Detachment
gives Hope;
Hope obtains
God.
Five evils of
reflection on
the Superna-
tural,
1, Illusions.
2. Pride.
3. Tempta-
tions.
4, Union
weakened.
5. God dis-
honoured,
222 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
This must be done, for all possession contradicts Hope,
which, as the Apostle writes, is of things not in possession :
‘Faith is the substance of things to be hoped for, the evi-
dence of things that appear not.’* Consequently, the more
the Memory divests itself, the greater its Hope; and the
greater its hope, the greater its union with God. For with
respect to God, the more the soul hopes, the more it obtains,
and it then hopes most when it is most divested; and when
it shall be perfectly divested, it will then have the posses-
sion of God, such as is possible on earth in the Divine union.
But there are many souls, who will not deprive themselves of
that sweetness and delight, which the memory finds in these
things, and who, consequently, never attain to this supreme
possession and perfect sweetness; for he ‘that doth not
renounce all that he possesseth, cannot be a disciple’ f of
Christ.
CHAPTER VIL.
.The ae inflicted on the soul by the knowledge of Supernatural things
if reflected upon, Their number.
Tue spiritual man exposes himself to five kinds of evils, if
he attends to, and reflects on, that knowledge, and those
forms, which are impressed upon his mind by the things
which pass through it in a supernatural way.
The first is frequent illusions, mistaking one thing for
another.
The second is proximate occasions of _presomption or vain
glory.
The third is the opportunities of deceiving, which they
furnish to the devil.
* Hebr. xi. 1. + S. Luke’xiv. 33.
UNMORTIFIED MEMORY DECEIVED. 223
The fourth is impediments to union with God in Hope.
The fifth is low views of God for the most part.
As to the first evil, it is clear that if the spiritual man
attends to, and reflects upon, these notions and forms, he
must be frequently deceived in his judgment about them.
For as no man can thoroughly comprehend what passes, in
the order of nature, into his imagination, or have a sound
and certain opinion about it; much less will he be able to,
decide correctly about Supernatural things, which are beyond
our understanding and of rare occurrence. He will fre-
quently attribute to God what is after all but fancies, and to
the evil spirit what is from God, and to God what is from
Satan. Very frequently, good or evil to others or to himself
will be present to him through these forms or figures: and he
will consider them most certain and true, and yet they are
nothing less than utterly false. Other impressions made
upon him he will consider false, though they are true; this,
however, I consider the safer course of the two, for it usually
proceeds out of Humility.
But if he is not deceived as to their truth, he may be as
to their kind and the value to be set upon them; he may
look upon that which is trifling as important, and on what
is important as trifling. And as to their quality, he may
consider what his imagination presents to him to be of this or
that kind, when ‘it is not; putting ‘darkness for light, and
light for darkness, bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter.’ *
Finally, if he escapes delusion in one thing, it will be sur-
prising if he does in the next; for even if he abstains from
determining anything in the matter, it is sufficient, if he
attends to it at all, to bring some detriment upon himself, if
not the precise one of which I am now speaking, yet some
one of the others of which I shall immediately speak.
* Ts. vy. 20.
CHAP.
VIL.
First evil of
self-reflection
in Super-
natural.
matters.
Liability to
deception,
224 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK The duty, therefore, of the spiritual man is, if he wishes
to escape from the delusions of his own judgment, not to
decide himself upon his own state or feelings, or what such
Visions, Knowledge, or Impressions may mean. He ought
not to desire to know anything about them, nor give heed to
them, except for the purpose of manifesting them to his
confessor, that he may learn from him how to empty his
memory of these apprehensions, or what in every case may
be most expedient for him, in the same spirit of detachment.
For be these things what they may, they cannot help us to
love God so much as the least act of earnest Faith and Hope
done in the emptiness of all things.
CHAPTER VIII.
Of the second evil: the danger of self-conceit and presumption.
Revond evil, Turse Supernatural Apprehensions of the Memory, if attended
Pride. to, or regarded at all, are to spiritual men occasions of vanity
or presumption. For as he who has no experience of them,
is exceedingly free from this vice, because he sees nothing in
himself whereon to presume; so on the other hand he, to
whom they are familiar, has an ever-present reason for
thinking himself to be something, seeing that he is the
object of these visitations. It is very true that he may
attribute all to God and give thanks, looking upon himself
as utterly unworthy; nevertheless a certain secret self-satis-
faction and conceit, on the subject of these Apprehensions,
will grow up in the mind, out of which, unawares, great
spiritual pride will arise.. Men might see this very clearly,
if they would but reflect on that feeling of dislike and aver-
sion produced in them by those, who do not commend their
spirit, or attribute no value to their experiences, and on
that feeling of distress, which they have when they are told
- ae A ‘ A te
PRIDE OF SELF-CONTEMPLATION. 225
that others also have the like or greater gifts. All this is the
fruit of secret self-esteem and pride, and they cannot be
made to understand that they are steeped in it up to their
very eyes.
They think that a certain recognition of their own wretch-
edness is sufficient, while at the same time they are filled
with secret self-esteem and personal satisfaction, taking
more delight in their own spirit and gifts than in those of
another. They are like the Pharisee who thanked God that
he was ‘ not as the rest of men,’ and that he practised such
and such virtues: he was satisfied with himself, and pre-
sumed upon his state. ‘O God,I give Thee thanks,’ said
he, ‘that I am not as the rest of men, extortioners, unjust,
adulterers . . . I fast twice in a week, I give tithes of all
that I possess.’* Now these men do not say this in so many
words, as the Pharisee did, but they habitually think so; and
some of them even become so proud as to be worse than
devils. When they are conscious of certain feelings, and
devotional sweetness in the things of God, as they imagine,
they become so self-satisfied, that they look upon themselves
as most near unto God, and upon others, unconscious of the
like feelings, as most unworthy, and they despise them as
the Pharisee did the Publican.
To avoid this pestilent evil, abominable in the sight of
God, there are two considerations to help us. The first is that
virtue does not consist in these apprehensions and feelings
about God, however sublime they may be, nor in any per-
sonal experiences of this kind, but, on the contrary, in that
which is not matter of feeling at all,—in great humility,
contempt of ourselves and of all that belongs to us, pro-
foundly rooted in the soul; and in being glad that others
* 9, Luke xviii, 11, 12,
VOL. I. ) Q
Two reme-
dies.
1. Perfection
not found
in high
thoughts
or sweet
feelings ;
BOOK,
mm
226 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
have the same opinion of us, and in not wishing to be
——— thought well of by others at all.
rity uncon-
scious of self,
Third evil,—
Snares of
the devil.
The second is, that all visions, revelations, and heavenly
feelings, and whatever else is greater than these, are not
worth the least act of Humility bearing the fruits of that
Charity which neither values nor seeks itself, which thinketh
no evil except of self, and which thinketh well not of self,
but of all others. Let men, therefore, cease to regard these
supernatural apprehensions, and labour rather to forget them,
that they may be free.
CHAPTER IX.
Of the third evil: the work of the devil through the Imaginary
Apprehensions of the Memory.
From what I have already written, we may gather andlearn how
great is that evil which the devil inflicts on the soul through
these Supernatural Apprehensions. Not only can he represent
to the memory and the fancy many false notions and forms
which shall seem good and true, impressing them on the
mind and senses with great effect and certainty by his sug-
gestions—and this in such a way as to make his repre-
sentations be taken. for what they pretend to be, for as he
changes himself into an angel, he will seem to be light to
the soul—but also in the very truths of God he can tempt
us in divers ways, by communicating unruly motions about
them to our desires and affections, whether spiritual or
sensual. For if the soul takes pleasure in these apprehen-
sions, it is very easy for Satan to increase our affections and
desires, and to plunge us into spiritual gluttony and other
evils.
And that he may succeed the better, he is wont to inspire
and fill the senses with delight, sweetness, and pleasure, in
SATAN AS A MIMIC. 227
the things of God; so that the soul, dazzled and enervated by cur.
that sweetness, may become blind through pleasure, and set
itself more upon sweetness than upon love—at least not so
much upon love—and attach greater importance to these
apprehensions than to that detachment and emptiness, which
are to be found in Faith and Hope and the Love of God. He
doeth all this that, starting from that point, he may, by little
and little, delude the soul, and bring it to believe, with great
readiness, all his lies. For the soul that is blind considers
falsehood to be falsehood no longer, evil not to be evil,
because it puts darkness for light, and light for darkness,
and falls into endless disorders. That which was once wine
is turned into vinegar, as well in the natural as in the moral
and spiritual order. All this comes upon the soul, because
it did not in the beginning deny itself in the pleasure
ministered by supernatural things. And as this pleasure
was at first not great or not so hurtful, the soul was not
sufficiently afraid of it, but suffered it to remain and grow,
as the grain of mustard grows into a great tree. For a
slight error in the beginning becomes a great error in the
end.
The soul that will escape this evil, the work of the devil, Biinaness
r . . . . used b
must not take ‘any pleasure in these apprehensions, for if it spiritual
does the result will most certainly be blindness, and then a —
fall; for delight and sweetness, of their own proper nature,
brutalise and blind the soul. This is the meaning of David
when he said, ‘ Perhaps darkness shall cover me; and night
shall be my light in my pleasures ;’* that is, perhaps dark-
ness shall cover me in my pleasures, and I shall take night
for my light.
* Ps, exxxviii, 11.
Q 2
BOOK
Union weak-
ened,
Fifth evil,—
God dis-
honoured,
228 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
CHAPTER X.
Of the fourth evil of the Distinct Supernatural Apprehensions of the
Memory: the impediment to Union.
THERE is not much to be said here about the fourth evil,
because I have been speaking of it throughout this book: I
have said that the soul, in order to be united with God in
Hope, must renounce all possession in the Memory; because
nothing that is not God must remain in the memory, if our
hope in God is to be perfect. No form or figure or image,
natural or supernatural, of which the memory takes cognisance
can be, or resemble, God, as it is written, ‘There is none
among the gods like unto Thee, O Lord;’* and therefore if
the memory dwells upon any such it impedes the Divine
union. In the first place, because it perplexes itself; and in
the next, because the greater its occupation the less perfect
is hope. It is therefore necessary for the soul to forget, and
detach itself from, all distinct forms and knowledge of super-
natural things, that it may not impede, in the Memory, the
Divine union in perfect Hope.
CHAPTER XI.
Of the fifth evil, resulting from the Imaginary Supernatural
Apprehensions : low and unseemly views of God.
Tue fifth evil is no less hurtful to the soul. It flows from
the willing retention, in the imaginative Memory, of the
forms and images of those things which are supernaturally
communicated to the soul, but especially then, when we
would apply them as means to the Divine union. It isa very
easy thing for us to form notions about the nature and
Pa. lexxv.'8,
LOW VIEWS OF GOD. 229
greatness of God, unworthy of and unbecoming His Incom-
prehensible Being. Though our Reason and Judgment may
withhold us from forming any express decision that God is
like any one of these similitudes; still the mere considera-
tion of these apprehensions generates in the soul a certain
esteem and sense of God which are not so high as Faith
teaches; namely, that He transcends all comparison and all
comprehension. For over and above that the soul takes from
God that which it gives to the creature, the mere consideration
of these apprehensions naturally produces within it a certain
comparison of them with God, which will not leave it to
judge of God as it ought todo. For, as I have said before,
no creature whatever, in Heaven or on earth, no forms or
images, natural or supernatural, cognisable by our faculties,
however noble they may be, present any comparison or pro-
portion with the Being of God; because neither genus nor
species includes Him. And in this life the soul of man is
incapable of comprehending clearly and distinctly anything
that cannot be classed under genus and species. This is why
S. John said, ‘No man hath seen God at any time;’* and
Isaias and S. Paul, ‘ Neither hath it entered into the heart
of man.’t Yea, God Himself hath said, ‘Man shall not see
Me and live.’t He, therefore, who shall perplex his Memory
and the other powers of his soul with matters that they can
comprehend, will never think and feel about God as he ought
to do.
I will explain my meaning by a somewhat low comparison.
The more we fix the eyes of our regard upon the courtiers
of a king, and the more we consider them, the less will *be
our reverence and respect for that king; for, even if our
disesteem of him be not formally and distinctly recognised
by the intellect, it is nevertheless visible in our conduct.
*$.Johni.18. f Is, lxiv. 4.; 1 Cor. ii. 9. { Ex, xxxiii. 20.
Analogy of a
king and his
courtiers.
zook The more we attribute to the courtiers the more we rob their
king; and we cannot have a high opinion of that king then,
because his courtiers are so respected in his presence. This
is the soul’s treatment of God whenever the soul gives heed
_ to these apprehensions. This illustration is a very mean
one: for God is of another nature than all His creatures, f
infinitely different from them all. .
These apprehensions, therefore, must be put out of sight,
and the eyes must regard none of them, but be fixed upon
God in Faith and perfect Hope. Hence those who not
only give heed to these apprehensions, but also think that
God is like unto some of them, and that by their help they
may attain unto Union with Him, are already fallen into
grievous error; they do not profit by the light of Faith in the
Intellect, which is the means by which this faculty is united
with God, neither also will they grow up to the heights of
Hope, which is the means of union for the Memory; that
Union must be effected by the severance of the Memory from
all imaginations whatever.
\
<
230 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL, |
CHAPTER XII.
The benefits of withdrawing the soul from the Apprehensions of the
Imagination, Answer to an objection. The difference between the
Natural and Supernatural Imaginary Apprehensions.
Benefits of TuE benefits that result from emptying the imaginative
Memory. faculty of these imaginary forms become manifest by the
consideration of the five evils which they inflict on the soul,
if it would retain them, as I said before of the natural
forms. But, beside these benefits, there are others of perfect
rest and tranquillity of mind. For, putting aside that
natural rest which the soul enjoys when it has set itself free
from the dominion of images and forms, it is also delivered
PEACE, FRUIT OF DETACHMENT. 231
from the anxiety of ascertaining whether they are good or
evil, and what conduct it ought to observe with reference
to the one and the other. It also escapes from troubling
and wasting the time of its confessors, for it does not require
them to determine whether these things are good or evil,
or the nature of them,— matters the knowledge of which is
not necessary for it, for all it has to do is to reject them
in the sense I have already explained, and to give no attention
whatever to them. The time and strength, thus wasted, will
be then employed in a better and more profitable way, in
conforming the will to God, in earnestly striving after
detachment, poverty of sense and spirit, which consists in a
willing real privation of all consoling and tangible support,
interior as well as exterior. This we practise well when we
seek and strive to separate ourselves from these forms; the
issue of which will be that inestimable blessing of drawing
near unto God, who has neither image, form, nor figure;
and that blessing will be proportional to our estrangement
from all forms, images, and figures.
You will here perhaps object, and say, Why, then, do
many spiritual directors counsel us to profit by these Divine
communications and impressions, and to desire the gifts of
God that we may have wherewithal to give to Him in return,
for if He gives nothing, we too have nothing to give unto
Him? Why does S. Paul say, ‘ Extinguish not the Spirit’?*
Why does the Bridegroom say to the Bride, ‘ Put Me as a
seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm’?ft This seal
signifies some apprehensions. And yet, according to this
teaching, we are not only not to seek them, but, even if God
sends them, to reject them. It is also certain that God,
when He sends them, sends them for our good, and that
their effects will be good. Pearls are not to be thrown
* 1 Thess. v. 19, + Cant. viii. 6.
CHAP,
xII.
How peni-
tents waste
the time of
their con-
fessors.
Why must
the
of the Spirit
be repelled ?
232 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
away. Yea, it is even a sort of pride not to yield a willing
reception to God’s communications, as if we could do without
them in our own strength.
I refer the reader, for a solution of this difficulty, to the
- fifteenth and sixteenth chapters of the second book, where
the objection has been in great measure replied to. I said
there that the benefits of the Supernatural Apprehensions,
when they are from God, are passively wrought in the soul,
at the time of their presentation to the senses, without the
cooperation of our faculties. An act of the will admitting
them is therefore unnecessary, for, as I have said, if the soul
will then exert its own faculties, the effect of that natural and
inferior exertion will be to impede the supernatural effects
then wrought by God through their intervention, rather than
any profit from that active exertion. Yea, rather, inasmuch
as the fruit of these Imaginary Apprehensions is passively
communicated to the soul; so the soul on its part must be
passively disposed in their regard without any interior or
exterior acts, as I have already explained. This is really to
preserve the Divine impressions, for by this conduct we shall
not destroy them by inferior actions of our own. This, too, is
the way not to extinguish the Spirit, for we should extin-
guish Him if we attempted to walk in a way along which
God does not lead us. We should be doing that if, when
God communicates His Spirit to us passively, as He does in
these apprehensions, we should then actively exert our in-
tellect, or seek anything in them beside and beyond that
which God communicates through them.
This is evident; for if the soul then exerts itself its action
will be only natural, or, at the utmost, if supernatural, far
inferior to that which God wills. In its own strength the
soul cannot do more, seeing that it neither does, nor can,
influence itself supernaturally ; it is God that so influences it,
but with its own consent. If, then, the soul will do anything
MAN ADDS NOTHING TO GOD. 233
itself, it will, necessarily, so far as itself is concerned, impede
the communication of God, that is, the Spirit; because it has
recourse to its own operations, which are of another kind and
far inferior to those of God. This, then, is to extinguish the
Spirit. The inferiority of this exertion is clear, for the powers
of the soul, in their ordinary and natural course, cannot act
or reflect but upon some figure, form, or image; and these
are but the rind and accidents of the substance and of the
Spirit hidden beneath them. This substance and Spirit
unite not with the powers of the soul in true intelligence and
love, until the reflex and imperfect action of those powers
shall have ceased. The end and aim of the soul in this
exertion is to receive in itself the substance, understood and
loved, which those forms involve. The difference therefore
between the active and passive operation, and the superiority
of the latter, is the same as that between a work in the
course of performance, and the same work already performed ;
between the search after an object, and that object sought
and found.
If the soul, then, will actively exert its faculties on those
Supernatural Apprehensions, in which God, as I have said,
communicates passively the spirit of them, it will do nothing
else but forsake what is already done, in order to do it
anew; and so will have no enjoyment of it, neither will its
own exertions have any other effect than to frustrate what
God hath wrought. Because, as I have said, the powers of the
soul can never of themselves attain to the Spirit, which God
communicates independently of them. If we were to attach
any importance to these Imaginary Apprehensions, we should
directly extinguish the Spirit which God infuses through
them into the soul: we must therefore put them aside, and
observe a passive conduct in their regard, for God is then
lifting up the soul to things above its power and its know-
ledge. This is the meaning of the Prophet when he said, ‘ I
Superiority
of the passive
soul.
234 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK will stand upon my watch, and fix my foot upon the tower;
—— and I will watch to see what will be said to me.’* That is,
I will keep guard over my faculties, and will not suffer them
to move a step, and so shall I be able to see what will be said
to me; that is, I shall understand and enjoy what God will
communicate to me supernaturally.
Gifts of the As to the objection founded on the words of the Bride-
tives of Love. groom, those words refer to that love which He demands, F
the function of which is to make the beloved ones resemble 4
each other. And therefore He saith to her, ‘Put Me as a ;
seal upon thy heart’t— where the arrows strike that are
shot forth from the quiver of love, that is, the actions
and motives of love —so that all the arrows of love might ;
strike Him, being there as a target for them, and that all |
may thus reach Him, and the soul become like unto Him
through the actions and motions of love until it becomes
transformed in Him. He says also, ‘as a seal upon thy
arm.’ The arm implies the exercise of love, for it is that
which comforts and sustains the Beloved. Therefore all we
have to do with these Apprehensions, which come upon us
_from above, as well imaginary as of every other kind,
whether Visions, Locutions, Impressions, or Revelations, is,
making no account of the letter or the outward veil — that d
is, the significative and intelligible fact—to attend only to
the preservation of the Love of God which they cause in-
teriorly in the soul. It is in this sense that we are to make
much of these impressions; not of the sweetness and delight
of them, nor of the figures, but of the impressions of love ‘4
which produce it. And with this object only in view we |
may probably at times call to mind that image and appre-
hension, which have been the occasion of love, in order to
furnish ourselyes with motives of love. For though the
* Habac. ii. 1. + Cant. viii. 6.
LOVE, THE END OF GRACES. 235
effect of that apprehension be not so great when recalled
to mind as it was when it was first communicated, still at .
the recollection of it our love is renewed and our minds
elevated unto God; especially when the recollection is of one
of those supernatural images, figures, or impressions which
usually so impress themselves on the soul that they continue
for some time there, and can scarcely be driven away.
These images, thus imprinted on the soul, produce, when-
ever they are adverted to, the Divine effects of love, sweet-
ness, and light, sometimes more, sometimes less, for that is
the end for which they are impressed. He with whom God
thus deals receives a great gift; for he has a mine of bless-
ings within himself. The images which produce such effects
as these are vividly grounded in the spiritual memory,
and resemble not those which the fancy preserves. It is
not therefore necessary when we would remember them
to have recourse to the fancy, because we have them in
ourselves, as an image seen in a mirror. And whenever a
soul has them formally, it may then profitably recall them
to that effect of love; because they will not impede the
Union of Love in Faith, when we do not dwell upon them,
but make use of them, towards exciting our love, and, when
that is done, instantly dismiss them: in this way they will
be of service to us towards the attainment of the Divine
union.
It is difficult to determine when these images touch
directly the spiritual part of the soul, and when they are
only in the fancy. Those of the fancy are usually very
frequent, for the imagination and the fancy of some people
are full of imaginary visions, abundantly present in one
form ; whether it be the result of the great vigour of that
organ which, after the slightest effort of thought, repre-
sents at once and portrays in the fancy the usual forms,
whether it be the work of Satan, or whether it be the work
BOOK
Til.
Third kind
of Apprehen-
sions,—
Memory of
the purely
Spiritual.
236 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
of God, but not formally impressed on the soul. But, how-
ever, we may determine their nature by their effects. Those
that are natural or diabolic in their origin, however ac-
curately remembered, produce no good effect, neither do
they spiritually renew the soul, and the recollection of
them issues only in dryness; while those which are from
God produce, whenever remembered, some good effect, as
at the first when originally presented to the soul. The
formal images, those which are impressed on the soul, almost
always when remembered, produce some effect. He who
has these will easily distinguish the one from the other, for
the difference between them will be most evident after ex-
perience. I have one thing, however, to say; those which are
formally and durably impressed on the soul are of very rare
occurrence. But of whatever kind they may be, the good of
the soul consists in not seeking to comprehend anything save
God alone by Faith in Hope.
Finally as to that objection which charges him with pride
who rejects these things when they are good, I reply that it
is a prudent humility to use them in the best way, as I
have shown, and to guide our steps by the road that is safest.
CHAPTER XIII.
Of Spiritual Knowledge as it relates to the Memory.
Tue third kind of Apprehensions of the Memory is Spiritual
Knowledge: not because it belongs to the bodily sense of the
fancy, like the rest, but because it is also cognisable by the
spiritual reminiscence and Memory. When the soul has
once had one of this kind, it may, when it wills, call it to
mind, not by reason of the figure and image which the
apprehension thereof may have left behind in the bodily
sense—-for that is incapable of receiving spiritual forms—
MEMORY OF THE PURELY SPIRITUAL. 237
but because it intellectually and spiritually remembers it by
that form of it which remains impressed on the soul—
which is also a form, or image, or knowledge spiritual or
formal, by which the soul remembers it—or by the effect it
has wrought. This is the reason why I place these appre-
hensions among those of the Memory, though not belonging
directly to the fancy.
The nature of this knowledge, and the conduct to be
observed by the soul with reference to it, in order to be
united with God, has been sufficiently explained in the
twenty-fourth chapter of the second book, where I treated of
it as an apprehension of the Intellect. You will there find that
there are two kinds of them, one of Uncreated Perfections,
another of creatures. Iam now speaking only so far as it
touches this part of my subject; namely, the conduct of the
Memory in the matter. I say again, as I did of the formal
impressions in the preceding chapter — for these are of the
same kind, being of created things —that they may be
remembered when the effect of them is good, not, indeed, for
the purpose of dwelling upon them but for quickening our
love and knowledge of God. But if the recollection of them
produces not this effect, the memory should never busy itself
with them. But as to the knowledge of the Uncreated Per-
fections, that may be remembered as often as we can, for it
will produce great results; for that is, as I said before,
touches and impressions of the Divine union towards which I
am directing the soul. The memory does not remember
these by the help of any form, image, or figure that may
have been impressed on the soul—for none such belong to the
touches and impressions of Union with the Creator—but only
by their effects of light, love, joy, and spiritual renewing,
some of which, as often as they are remembered, are wrought
anew in the soul.
Continual
Remem-
brance of the
Perfections
of God,
238 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK
Tr).
CHAPTER XIV.
General directions for the guidance of the spiritual man in relation to —
the Memory.
Reoapitula- To conclude, then, this subject of the Memory, it may be
as well here to furnish the spiritually-minded reader with
certain brief directions, of universal application, how he is
to unite himself, in the memory, with God. For, notwith-
standing that the matter has been sufficiently discussed, it
will be more easily grasped, if I repeat it here concisely.
Having this in view, then, we must remember, that my
object is the Union of the soul with God in the Memory by
Hope. Now, that which we hope for is what we possess not,
and the less we possess the greater scope we have for hoping,
and, consequently, the greater the perfection of hope; while,
on the other hand, the more we possess the less room is
there for hope, and, consequently, the less is the perfection
of hope. Accordingly the more the soul strips the memory
of forms and reminiscible matters, which are not the Divinity
or God Incarnate — the recollection of Him always sub-
serves our true end, for He is the Way, the Guide, and the
Source of all good —the more it will fix the memory on
God, and the more empty it will make it, so that it shall hope
for Him who is the Fulness of it.
What we have to do, then, in order to live in the simple
and perfect Hope of God, whenever these forms, knowledge,
and distinct images occur, is, not to fix our minds upon
them but to turn immediately to God, emptying the Memory
of all such matters, in loving affection, without regarding or
considering them more than suffices to enable us to under-
stand and perform our obligations, if they have any reference
thereto. We must do this without taking any satisfaction in
them, in order that they may leave no disturbing effects
THE WORSHIP OF IMAGES. 239
behind. And therefore we must not omit to think of, and
remember, those things which it is our duty to do and to
know; for in that case, provided no selfish attachments
intrude, these recollections will do no harm. Those sen-
tences of the thirteenth chapter of the first book will be
profitable to us in this matter.
But, my dear Reader, bear in mind that I have nothing,
and will have nothing, in common with the opinions of &
those pestilent men who, full of the pride and hate of Satan,
labour to destroy among the Faithful the holy and necessary
use, and noble worship, of the Images of God and the Saints.
My principles are very different from theirs; for I am not
saying that Images ought not to be allowed, and worshipped,
as they do; but I only show the difference between them
and God, teaching men to make use of the sign in such a
way as that it shall not hinder their progress to the reality,
by resting upon it more than is sufficient for their spiritual
advancement.
Means are necessary to the end; such are Images, for they
remind us of God and of. His Saints. But when we dwell
upon the means more than the nature of such means demands,
we are then hindered and perplexed. How much more, then,
must this be the case with those interior images and visions
which are formed within the soul? These are liable to
innumerable risks and illusions. But with regard to the
memorial, worship, and veneration of those Images, which our
Holy Mother the Church sets before us, there can be neither
risk nor delusion; and the recollection of them cannot fail to
be profitable, because it is always connected with love of
what they represent. And when the Memory makes this
use of images they will always help it on towards the Divine
union, if it permits the soul to fly upwards, when God grants
this grace, from the image to the reality, in forgetfulness of
the creature and all that belongs to it.
The Author’s
Images are
means to re-
member and
to love God.
BOOK
Ii.
Reformation
of the Intel-
lect in Faith
of the Me-
mory, in
Hope ; of the
Will, in
Charity.
The greatest
of these,
Charity.
Love the ful-
filment of
the Law.
240 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
CHAPTER XV.
Of the Obscure Night of the Will. Proofs from Deuteronomy and the
Psalms. Division of the affections of the Will.
We have done nothing by the purification of the Intellect
towards grounding it in Faith, and that of the Memory in
Hope—according to the sense explained in the sixth chapter
of the second book —if we have not also purified the Will
in the order of Charity, which is the third virtue, and by
which works done in Faith are living and meritorious, and
without which they are nothing worth. For as S. James
saith, ‘ Faith without works is dead.’* That is, without the
works of Charity Faith is dead.
And now that I have to treat of the Night and active de-
tachment of the Will, with a view to its perfect establishment
in this virtue of the Love of God, I cannot find a better au-
thority than that contained in the Book of Deuteronomy:
‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart,
and with thy whole soul, and with.thy whole strength.’ This
is all that the spiritual man ought to do—and all that I am
teaching him—that he may truly draw near unto God in the
Union of the will with God in Love. Man is here bidden to
employ for God all his faculties and desires, all the fune-
tions and affections of -his soul, so that all the skill and
all the strength of the soul may minister to no other
end than this, as the Psalmist says: ‘I will keep my
strength to Thee.’ { The strength of the soul consists in its
powers, passions, and desires, all of which are governed by
the Will. But when the Will directs these powers, passions,
and desires to God, and turns them away from all that is not
God, it then keeps the strength of the soul for God, and
* S. James ii. 20.
+ Deuter. vi. 5. t Ps. lviii. 10.
wo
~~
REFORMATION OF THE WILL BY CHARITY. 241
loves Him with its whole strength. And that the soul may
be able to do this, I purpose here to show how the Will is to ————
be purified from all unruly affections; which are the cause
why our strength is not wholly kept for God.
These affections or Passions are four in number :—Joy,
Hope, Grief, and Fear. If these passions are excited only
according to Reason, in the way of God, so that we feel no
joy except in that which is simply for the honour and glory
of our Lord God, nor hope except in Him, nor grief except
in what concerns Him, nor fear but of Him only, it is clear,
then, that the strength and skill of the soul are directed to,
and kept for, God. For the moré the soul rejoices in aught
beside Him, the less effectively will it rejoice in God, and
the more it hopes in aught else, the less will it hope in
God. The same applies to the other passions also.
In order to a more complete explanation of this I shall, as
usual, speak of each of these passions and desires of the will
separately, for the whole matter of Union with God consists
in purging the will of its affections and desires, so that the
vile and human will may become the Divine Will, being
made one with the Will of God.
These four Passions domineer over the soul, and assail it
with the more vigour, the less the will is attached to God,
and the more dependent it is on created things; for it then
rejoices easily in those things which do not deserve to be
rejoiced in, hopes in that which is valueless, grieves over that
for which perhaps it ought to rejoice, and fears where there
is nothing to be afraid of.
It is from these affections, when disorderly, that all the
vices and imperfections of the soul arise; and all its virtues
also, when they are well governed and restrained. Let us
remember that if but one of them be under the control of
Reason, so will the others be also; for they are so intimately
bound together, that the actual course of one is the virtual
VOL. I. R
Reformation
of the Pas-
sions, Joy,
Hope, Grief,
and Fear.
In disorder
they cause
Vice :
In order,
Virtue.
BOOK
Ii.
Mutual rela-
tions of the
Passions to
each other ;
‘and to the
Will,
Boethius
quoted,
242 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL. :
course of the rest, and if one of them be actually restrained,
the others will be proportionately restrained also. For if the
Will rejoices in anything, it will consequently hope in the
same measure, and there grief and fear are virtually present ;
and as that joy ceases, in the same proportion cease also grief
and fear and hope.
The Will with its four Passions may be said, in some sense,
to be represented in the vision which Ezechiel saw of the four
living creatures with one body; ‘They had faces and wings
on the four sides. And the wings of one were joined to the
wings of another. They turned not when they went, but
every one went straight forward.’* The wings of each one of
these four affections are joined to the wings of the others,
and whithersoever one of them goes there also of necessity go
virtually the others. When one of them goeth on the earth
so do the others, and when one is lifted up, so the others
also. Where hope is, there also will be joy and fear and
grief; and when one has retired, the others retire also.
Remember, therefore, O thou who art spiritual, that the
whole soul, with the Will and its other powers, will follow in
the wake of every one of these passions; that they will be
all captives to it, and that the three other passions also will
live in it, afflicting the soul and preventing its flight to the
liberty and repose of sweet Contemplation and Union. And so
Boethius says: Wilt thou contemplate Truth in clear light?
Drive away joy and hope and fear and grief.t For while these
passions have dominion over thee, they will not suffer the
soul to enjoy that tranquillity and peace which are necessary
for the attainment of wisdom, either natural or super-
natural.
* Exzech. i. 8, 9.
tT ‘Tu quoque, si vis lumine claro cernere Verum,
. . . Gaudia pelle, pelle timorem, spemque fugato,
Ne dolor assit.’ Boet. de Cons, Phil. lib. 1. metry. vii.
. JOY AS ONE OF THE FOUR PASSIONS. 243
CHAPTER XVI.
Of the first affectiop of the Will. What Joy is. Its diverse sources.
Tue first of the Passions of the soul and of the affections of First
the Will is Joy, which, in the sense I speak of, is nothing else
but a certain satisfaction of the will joined to the appreciation
of the object it regards; for the will has no joy except when
it appreciates an object and is satisfied with it. This refers
to active joy, to that joy which the soul feels when it clearly
and distinctly perceives why it rejoices, and when it is in its
own power to rejoice or not. For there is another joy, which
is passive: when the soul finds itself rejoicing, without
clearly perceiving—and sometimes even perceiving —why
it rejoices, it being out of its power at that time to control,
or not control, that joy. I shall speak of this hereafter. I
am now speaking of that joy, active and voluntary, which is
derived from clear and distinct perceptions of things.
Joy arises out of six different sources; temporal, natural,
sensual, moral, supernatural, and spiritual good. I shall
speak of these successively, for we have so to order the Will
with regard to them, that, unembarrassed by them, it may
not omit to place the strength of its Joy in God. And with
this there is one truth which we must take for granted, and
lean upon it as upon a staff. And we must understand it
thoroughly, for it is the light by which we are to be guided,
in which this doctrine is to be regarded, and by which our
joy in all these goods is to be directed unto God. That
truth is this: The Will ought to rejoice in nothing but in that
which tends to the Honour and Glory of God; and that to
serve Him in Evangelical Perfection is the greatest honour
we can render Him: whatever is beside this is of no value
nor of any use to man.
R2
2. Its twofold
division.
Ad majorem
Dei Gloriam,
BOOK
1 Pe
First source
of Joy,—
Temporal
Goods.
Indifferent
in them-
selves.
Should be
chosen or re-
jected for
God’s sake.
1, Riches,
244 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
CHAPTER XVII.
Of Joy in Temporal Goods. How it is to be directed.
Tue first source of Joy I mentioned is Temporal good; by
which I mean riches, rank, office, and other dignities ;
children, relations, and alliances. All these are matters in
which the Will may rejoice. But what vanity to rejoice in
riches, rank, titles, office, and the like, after which men are
striving! If a man’s wealth made him a better servant of
God, he might rejoice in his riches; but riches are rather
occasions of sin, as the Wise Man saith: ‘Myson... if thou
be rich, thou shalt not be free from sin.’* It is very true
that temporal goods are not necessarily, in themselves, occa-
sions of sin, yet generally, by reason of our frailty, the heart
sets itself upon them, and falls away from God, which is
sin. The wise man therefore says, that the rich shall not
be free from sin.
Our Lord Jesus Christ, in the Gospel, calls riches thorns,f
that we may learn that he who shall set his Will upon riches
will be wounded by sin. Those fearful words recorded by
S. Matthew, ‘Amen, I say to you, that a rich man shall
hardly enter into the kingdom of Heaven,’{ show us plainly
that a man ought not to rejoice in his riches, because they
expose him to so greata danger. David also bids us withdraw
ourselves from riches, saying, ‘ If riches abound, set not your
heart upon them.’§ I will not allege further proof in a
matter so clear, for when shall I have said all the evils of
them that Solomon hath said? Solomon was a man full of
wisdom and of great riches, and he knew well what they
were when he said, ‘I have seen all things that are done
under the sun, and behold all is vanity and vexation of spirit
* Ecclus. xi. 10. t+ S. Matt. xiii. 22. ~
¢ S. Matt. xix, 23. § Ps, lxi. 11.
ic a lll Py ee eal ed
« , “e22-
ag?
=e a eek ba
PROPER USE OF TEMPORAL GOODS. 245
«++ and a fruitless solicitude of the mind.’* And, ‘ He that
loveth riches shall reap no fruit from them.’f And again,
‘Riches kept to the hurt of the owner.’{ An instance of
this we have in the Gospel. A rich man, because his harvest
was abundant, rejoiced in his expectation of years of comfort :
* But God said to him, Thou fool, this night do they require
thy soul of thee; and whose shall those things be which thou
hast provided ?’§ The Psalmist also teaches us the same
truth, saying, ‘Be not thou afraid when a man shall be
made rich... for when he shall die, he shall take nothing
away ; nor shall his glory descend with him ;’ ||—that is, we are
not to envy our neighbour because he-is grown rich, for his
riches will not profit him in the life to come; yea, rather let -
us pity him.
The sum of the matter is this: let no man rejoice in his
own or in his brother’s wealth, unless it be that it tends to the
better service of God. If rejoicing in riches can be made in
any way endurable, it is when we spend and employ them
for God ; for there is no other way of making them profitable.
The same principle applies to the temporal goods of title,
rank, and office; all rejoicing in which is vanity, unless we
feel that these things enable us to serve God better, and that
they make the way to Eternal Life more secure. And as we
can never be sure that these things enable us to serve God
better, it will be vanity to rejoice deliberately in them,
because such a joy can never be reasonable. For as our
Lord saith: ‘For what doth it profit a man if he gain the
whole world, and suffer the loss of his own soul?’ There
cannot be anything worth rejoicing in except that which
makes us better servants of our God.
Neither are men to rejoice in their children, because they
* Eccles. i, 14; ii. 26. + Ib. v. 9.
t Ib. v. 12. § S. Luke xii. 20. .
| Ps. xlviii, 17, 18. q S. Matt. xvi, 26."
2. Rank,
Titles, and
Office,
BOOK
Ii.
_ 8. Domestic
relations ;
(1) Children,
(2) Worldly
Prosperity.
246 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
are many, rich, endowed with abilities and natural graces,
and prosperous, but only in that they serve God. Neither
the beauty, nor the wealth, nor the lineage of Absalom the
son of David profited him at all, because he served not God.
To rejoice in such a son would have been vanity. It is also
vanity to desire children; as some do who disturb the world
with their fretting; for they know not if their children will
be good and servants of God. They know not whether the
pleasure they expect from them may not be turned into pain,
tranquillity and consolation into trouble and disquietude,
honour into disgrace; and, finally, whether they shall not be
to them greater occasions of sinning against God, as is the
case with many. Christ has said of these that they compass
sea and land to enrich themselves and to make themselves
twofold the children of perdition: ‘You go round about the
sea and the land to make one proselyte; and when he is
made, you make him the child of hell twofold more than
yourselves.’ *
If a man’s affairs are prosperous, if his undertakings
succeed, and all his wishes are gratified, he ought to fear
rather than rejoice, for this is a dangerous occasion of for-
getting, and offending against, God. It was for this cause
that Solomon was cautious, saying: ‘Laughter I counted
error; and to mirth I said: Why art thou vainly deceived ?’f
It is as if he said: when all things smiled upon me I counted
it error and delusion to rejoice therein ; for, beyond all doubt,
it is a great error and folly on the part of man if he rejoices
in the sunshine of prosperity, when he does not know for
certain that it will lead to any durable good. ‘The heart of
the wise is where there is mourning,’ saith Solomon, ‘ and
the heart of fools where there is mirth.{ Vain rejoicing
blinds the heart, makes it inconsiderate and thoughtless, but
* S. Matt. xxiii. 15. + Eccles, ii. 2. t Ih. vii. 5.
A
ees
1) a
EE a ey
EVILS OF JOY IN TEMPORAL GOODS. 247
mourning opens our eyes to the vision of our loss and gain. -
This is the reason why the wise man saith that ‘anger is
better than laughter ;’* and that ‘it is better to go to the
house of mourning than to the house of feasting ; for in that
we are put in mind of the end of all, and the living thinketh
what is to come.’ f
It is also vanity for a wife or a husband to rejoice in
marriage, for they know not whether they shall serve God
the better in that state. Yea, rather they should feel humbled,
because, as the Apostle saith, marriage leads them to set their
affections upon each other, and not to give their heart whole
unto God. This is why he said: ‘Art thou loosed from a
wife ? seek not a wife.’{ He that is married ought to live
with freedom of heart, as if he had not been married. The
Apostle teaches the same doctrine with regard to all temporal
goods, saying: ‘ This, therefore, I say, brethren, the time is
short; it remaineth that they also who have wives be as if
they had none; and they that weep, as though they wept
not; and they that rejoice, as if they rejoiced not; and they
that buy, as though they possessed: not; and they that use
this world, as if they used it not.’§ The Apostle teaches that
to rejoice in anything which tendeth not to the service of
God is vanity and without profit, for all joy which is not in
God brings no good to the soul.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Of the Evils resulting from Joy in Temporal goods.
Ir I were to describe all the evils that environ the soul when
the affections of the Will are set upon Temporal Goods, paper
and ink would fail me, and time itself would be too short.
* Eccles, vii. 4. + Ib. vii. 3.
t 1 Cor. vii. 27. § 1 Cor, vii. 29, 30,
(3) Marriage.
BOOK
III,
248 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL. —
Slight beginnings issue in great evils, and in the ruin of great
——————_ prosperity. A spark, unquenched, kindles a great fire, which
Joy in crea-
tures ends in
loss of God,
/
1. Dimness
of Spiritual
Perception.
may burn up the whole world. All these evils have their
root and origin in one principal evil of a negative character
involved in this joy, namely, a departure from God.
For, as the drawing near of the soul unto God with the
affection of the will is the source of all good, so the going
away from Him, through love of created things, issues in all
evils and calamities, in proportion to the joy and affection
which unite us to the creature. This is the departure from
God. In proportion, therefore, to our departure from God,
more or less, will be the evils resulting from it in greater or
less extent and gravity; and for the most part they are at
once most extensive and most grave.
There are four degrees, one worse than the other, in this
negative evil, from which all the other evils, negative and
positive, proceed. And when the fourth degree is reached,
all the evils involved in this case will have fallen upon the ~
soul. These four degrees are described in the following |
words of Moses :—‘ The beloved grew fat and kicked; he
grew fat, and thick, and gross; he forsook God, who made
him, and departed from God his Saviour.’ *
This growing fat of the soul, once beloved, is its absorp-
tion in the joy of created things. Hence the first degree of
evil, going backwards; if is a certain obtuseness of mind
with regard to God, which obscures His blessings, as a cloud
darkens the sky, hiding the light of the sun. For the
moment the spiritual man rejoices in anything, and gives
the reins to his foolish desires, he becomes blind to God,
and overshadows with a cloud the pure perceptions of his
judgment. ‘For the bewitching of vanity,’ saith the Holy
Ghost, ‘obscureth good things, and the wandering of con-
* Deuter, xxxii. 15,
|
.
;
,
,
7
1
f
|
:
Ee ee
LOVE OF THE WORLD LOSES GOD. 249
cupiscence overturneth the innocent mind.’* The Holy
Spirit teaches here that concupiscence alone, and joy in
created things, even when the soul is without previous malice,
are sufficient to precipitate it into the first degree of evil;
into that obtuseness of mind and obscurity of judgment
which destroy the perception of truth and a right judgment
in all things. If a man gives way to concupiscence, or
rejoices in temporal things, neither his sanctity nor his
prudence can prevent his fall.
This explains those words of God: ‘ Neither shalt thou
take bribes, which even blind the wise.’ This is especially
addressed unto judges who have need of a clear and vigilant
judgment, which cannot coexist with avarice and joy in
gifts. Hence God commanded Moses to appoint men for
judges who hated avarice: ‘ Provide out of all the people
able men ... . that hate avarice, who may judge the people
at all times, { men who would not blind their judgment by
the lust of possession. God does not say men that avoid
avarice, but men that hate avarice. For if we would de-
fend ourselves completely against a particular affection we
must hold it in abhorrence, and guard ourselves against it by
the contrary feeling. The reason why Samuel was always so
upright and enlightened a judge was, as he tells us himself,
his abstinence from gifts: ‘If I have taken a bribe at any
man’s hand.’ §
The second degree grows out of the first, as the text shows:
‘he grew fat, and thick, and gross.’ Thus the Will becomes
gross and distracted, by greater liberty in worldly things.
It has no further scruples about the pleasures of sense, and
abandons itself to created things. This state grows out of
a previous indulgence in joy, for when the soul of man is
* Wisd. iv. 12. ¢ Exod. xxiii. 8.
t Ib. xviii. 21, 22. § 1 Kings xii. 3.
2. Tedium
de Deo.
250 ‘THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BooK engrossed therein it is the result of yielding to it; and this
engrossing of it by joy and desire causes the will to dilate and
expand itself on created things. Great evils result from this,
because this second degree leads us away from the things of
God, and from holy practices, and robs us of all pleasure in
them, because we take pleasure in other matters, and abandon
ourselves to many follies, to empty joys and pleasures. When
the second degree is completely reached, it destroys utterly
habitual devotions, and the mind and desire are given up to
secularities. Those who have fallen to this second degree,
not only have their judgment and understanding blinded as
to truth and justice, like those who have fallen into the first ;
but they are also remiss and tepid in recognising and doing
their duty, according to the words of the Prophet: ‘They all
love bribes, they run after rewards. They judge not for the
fatherless ; and the widow’s cause cometh not unto them.’ *
This implicates them in sin, especially if such duties are
incumbent upon them, for those who have fallen to this depth
are not free from malice, like those of the first degree. These,
therefore, withdraw more and more from justice and virtue,
because they inflame the will more and more by this their
affection for created things. The characteristics of those who
are in this second state are great tepidity in spiritual things,
and a careless observance of them; they perform their highest
duties rather as if they were ceremonies, or from compulsion,
-or from habit, and not from love.
3, Neglect ot The third degree of this negative evil is the utter forsaking
of God, neglect of His law, because men will not deny them-
selves in the merest trifle of this world, and, finally, mortal
sin committed through concupiscence. This degree is de-
scribed in the text by the words, ‘ He forsook God who
made him.’ This degree includes all those the faculties of
whose souls are so immersed in the things of the world —
* Ts, i, 23,
ar SS -
ee
IDOLS OF THE WORSHIP OF MAMMON. 251
in riches and the commerce thereof — that they are utterly
regardless of the obligations of the Divine Law. In that —————
which concerns their salvation they are forgetful and dull,
but quick and clear in the things of the world, so much so
that our Lord calls them ‘ children of this world,’ saying of
them, that they ‘ are wiser in their generation than the chil-
dren of light ;’* that is, more prudent in the management of
their own affairs than the children of light in their own.
Such persons are nothing in the things of God, but every-
thing in the things of the world. These persons are the
truly avaricious; they have so profusely wasted their affec-
tions and desires upon created things that they can never be
satisfied; their desire and thirst increase the more, the more
they depart from the Fountain which alone can satisfy them,
namely, God. It is of these that God speaks by the mouth
of the Prophet, saying, ‘ They have forsaken Me, the fountain
of living water, and have digged to themselves cisterns,
-broken cisterns, that can hold no water.’f The covetous
man cannot quench his thirst by created things; but he
increases it. These persons fall into innumerable sins through
temporal goods; of whom the Psalmist hath said, ‘ They have
passed into the affection of the heart.’ }
The fourth degree of this negative evil is described in the
same text thus: ‘departed from God his Saviour.’ This is
the issue of the third degree, of which I have just spoken.
The avaricious man, because he makes light of his want of
affection for the Law of God, on account of temporal goods,
departs from Him in Memory, Intellect, and Will. He forgets
Him as if He existed not, because he has made money and
temporal prosperity his god; for avarice is, according to the
Apostle, ‘ the service of idols.’§ This fourth degree extends
to forgetfulness of God, to the setting of the heart formally
on money which ought to be set formally upon God; as if
* S. Luke xvi. 8, + Jerem. ii. 18.
} Ps. lxxii. 7. § Coloss, iii. 5,
4, False gods
in place of
the True One,
252 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
Book men had no other god than money. ‘They have fallen into
Spiritua ‘218 fourth degree who scruple not to subject Divine and
apeniy Supernatural things to temporal, as if the latter were God;
their duty being to act on the contrary rule, subjecting tem-
poral things to God, as Reason requires. Such was the
impious Balaam, who sold for money the gift of God,* and
Simon Magus, who ‘thought that the gift of God may be
purchased with money,’f and attempted to buy it. They
thought more of money; they seemed to think that others
did so too, and that they would sell the gift of God.
There are many who, in various ways, have fallen into this
fourth degree of evil, their Reason is blinded by avarice, and
they are the servants of money and not of God; they labour
for it and not for Him; they propose to themselves a human
and not the Divine reward; making money in divers ways
their principal end and god, and preferring it to God, their
ultimate end.
on bold This class, too, comprises all those miserable men who so
shippers. Jove their earthly goods as to esteem them their god; and who
therefore shrink not from the sacrifice of their own lives
whenever their god suffers the slightest injury; they fall into
despair, and for wretched objects inflict death upon them-
selves ; thereby exhibiting, in the work of their own hands, the
miserable reward which their god bestows upon them. When
their expectations fail them they despair and die, and those
who escape this final calamity live in the torments of con-
tinual anxiety and misery; no joy enters into their soul, and
no temporal happiness attends them ; they pay tribute to their
god in sorrow of heart, gathering money for the final misery
of their just perdition: as it is written, ‘ Riches kept to the
hurt of the owner.’ t
Those also of whom it is said, ‘God delivered them up to
* Num. xxii. 7. + Acts viii, 20. t Eccles. y. 12,
BENEFITS OF THE REFORMATION OF JOY. 253
a reprobate sense,’* are of this class, for joy, when it makes
possessions its end, drags men down to this. Those who do
not fall so low are objects of deep commiseration, because
they turn back from the way of God. ‘ Be not thou afraid
when a man shall be made rich, and when the glory of his
house shall be increased. For when he shall die he shall
take nothing away, nor shall his glory descend with him.’ ft
‘Be not afraid when a man shall be made rich ;’ that is, be
not envious of him, thinking him superior to thyself, for
when he shall die he shall take nothing away with him,
neither shall his glory nor his joy descend with him.
CHAPTER XIX.
The benefits resulting from withdrawing our Joy from Temporal things.
Tue spiritual man, then, must be very careful of the be-
ginnings of Joy in Temporal things, lest it should grow from
little to be great, and increase from one degree to another.
What is small becomes large, out of slight beginnings result
great evils, and one spark is enough to set a mountain on
fire. However slight his joy may be, let him quench it at
once, and not trust that he shall be able to do it later; for if
he has not the courage to do so when it is but beginning,
how can he presume upon success when it shall have taken
root and grown? Remember especially those words of our
Lord, ‘ He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful
also in that which is greater.’ t
He who avoids what is slight will not stumble over what
is great. Little things involve great evils, because the fences
and wall of the heart are broken down when they enter in.
And the proverb says, He who has begun his work has
* Rom. i. 28. + Ps, xlviii. 17, 18. t S. Luke xvi. 10.
Mortification
in little
things neces-
sary.
4, Clearness
of Spiritual
Perception.
254 si THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL. —
accomplished the half of it. It is for this reason that David
admonishes us, saying, ‘ If riches abound set. not your heart
upon them.’* If man will not do this for God, and because
Christian Perfection requires it, yet because of the temporal
advantages, beside the ‘spiritual ones, which such conduct
brings with it, he should keep his heart perfectly free from
all joy of this kind. In this way he not only delivers himself
from those pestilent evils enumerated in the preceding chapter,
but also, repressing all joy in temporal goods, acquires the
virtue of liberality, one of the chief attributes of God; and
which cannot possibly coexist with avarice. Moreover, he
attains to liberty of spirit, clearness of judgment, repose,
tranquillity, and peaceful confidence in God, together with
the true worship and obedience of the Will. He has greater
joy and comfort in creatures if he detaches himself from
them; and he can have no joy in them if he considers them
as his own. He acquires also in this detachment from
creatures a clear comprehension of them, so as to understand
perfectly the truths that relate to them, both naturally and
supernaturally. For this reason his joy in them is widely
different from his who is attached to them, and far nobler.
The former rejoices in their truth, the latter in their decep-
tiveness ; the former in their best, and the latter in their worst,
conditions; the former in their substantial worth, and the latter
in their seeming and accidental nature, through his senses
only. For sense cannot grasp or comprehend more than the
accidents, but the mind, purified from the clouds and species
of the accidents, penetrates to the interior truth of things,
for that is its proper object.
Now Joy as a cloud darkens the judgment, for there can
be no rejoicing in created things without the attachment of
the Will. The negation and purgation of this joy leaves the
e * Ps, bxi. 11.
-GOD’S WILL THE HIGHEST JOY. 255
judgment clear as the sky when the mists are scattered.
The former, therefore, has joy in all things, but his joy is —————
not dependent upon them, neither does it arise from their
being his own: and the latter, in so far as he regards them
as his own, loses in general all joy whatever. The former,
while his heart is set upon none of them, possesses them all,
as the Apostle saith, with great freedom: ‘ as having nothing,
and possessing all things.’* The latter, while in will at-
tached to them, neither has nor possesses anything, for
rather created things have possession of his very heart, for
which cause he suffers pain as a prisoner. And, therefore,
all the joy he will derive from ereatures, will necessarily
end in as many disquietudes and pains in the heart which is
in their possession.
He who is detached from creatures, is not molested during
prayer or otherwise, and so, without losing his time, he gains
easily great spiritual treasures. On the other hand, the
covetous man runs to and fro, within the limits of the chain
by which his heart is bound, and with all his efforts can
scarcely set himself free, even for a moment, from the
bondage of his thoughts, running incessantly thither where
his heart is fixed. The spiritual man, therefore, must suppress
the first motions of this joy, remembering, as I said before,
that there is nothing in which a man may rejoice except in
serving God, in promoting His Honour and Glory, in directing
all things to this end, and in avoiding all vanity in them,
and in not seeking his own pleasure and comfort.
The absence of Joy in created good, brings another great
and excellent benefit: it sets the heart free for God: which
is a disposition meet for all those graces which He will
bestow, and without which He will give none, And even in
this life, for one joy denied through love of Him and for the
* 2 Cor. vi. 10.
6. Capacity -
for God,
BOOK
III.
7. Ahundred-
fold reward
even in this
life.
Conclusion.
Light Suffer-
ings, and infi-
nite Bliss; or
short Plea-
sure, and
eternal Pain.
Second
source of
Joy,—Na-
tural Goods,
256 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
sake of Evangelical Perfection, He will give them a hundred-
fold, according to His promise.* But if it were not so, the
spiritual Christian ought to suppress all joy in created things
because it is offensive in the sight of God. When the rich
man, in the gospel, rejoiced, because he had ‘much goods
laid up for many years,’ God was so displeased, that He said
unto him: ‘Thou fool, this night do they require thy soul
of thee.’ f
It is therefore justly to be feared, whenever we rejoice in
vanity, that God is looking “on and preparing some chastise-
ment for us, the bitter cup of our deservings; for the punish-
ment of such rejoicing is frequently greater than its pleasures.
Though the words recorded by S. John concerning Babylon
be true: ‘ As much as she hath glorified herself and lived in
delicacies, so much torment and sorrow give ye to her,’ { we
are not to suppose that the pain will not exceed the joy,
because it will be far greater—seeing that for passing plea-
sures there are infinite and everlasting torments—for the
words mean that nothing shall escape its particular punish-
ment, for He who will punish for every idle word, will not
pass over our empty joy.
CHAPTER XX.
The Joy of the Will in Natural Goods is Vanity. How to direct the
Will to God therein.
By Natural Goods I mean beauty, grace, comeliness, bodily
_ constitution, and all other physical endowments, and also
good understanding, discretion, and other rational qualities.
Now, for a man to rejoice, because he himself, or those who
belong to him, may be thus gifted, and for that reason only,
* S. Matt. xix. 29, + 8. Luke xii. 19, 20. ¥ Apoe. xviii. 7.
ret 7
ee meet Vail
*
q
*
a
DECEITFULNESS OF NATURAL GIFTS. 257
without giving thanks to God, who thus endows men in
order that they may know Him and love Him the more, is
vanity and delusion. ‘Favour is deceitful,’ saith the Wise
Man, ‘ and beauty is vain: the woman that feareth the Lord,
she shall be praised.’* He teaches us that man ought
rather to be afraid of his natural endowments, because
they may so easily withdraw him from the love of God, and
cast him down into error and vanity. This is the reason why
physical grace is deceitful: it deceives a man and allures
him to that which is unseemly, through empty joy or com-
placency, either in himself, or in others, so endowed. Beauty
is vain; it makes man fall in divers ways, when he values it
and rejoices in it, for he ought to rejoice in it only when it
enables him to serve God. We ought, therefore, rather to
fear, lest perhaps our natural gifts and graces should become
occasions of offending against God, through presuming upon
them, or excessive estimation of them, arising out of their
continued contemplation. He therefore, who is thus endowed,
ought to be very cautious, and watchful in his conduct, lest he
should furnish another with the opportunity of withdrawing
his heart from God even for a moment. For these natural
gifts and graces are so prolific in temptations and in occasions
of sin, as well to the owner as to the beholder, that scarcely
any one can avoid all entanglement of the heart in them.
Many spiritual persons, of natural beauty, have, under the
influence of this fear, prayed to God for their own disfigure-
ment, that they might not be an occasion of vain affection or
joy, either to themselves or to others.
The spiritual man, therefore, must purify his Will, and
render it insensible to this empty rejoicing, remembering
that beauty, and all other natural graces, are earth, from the
earth, and soon return to it; that comeliness and grace are
* Proy. xxxi. 30.
VOL. I. 8
Better gifts,
greater re-
sponsibility.
258 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK but smoke and vapour; and if he would escape falling into
vanity, he must esteem them as such, and direct his heart
God the upwards unto God beyond them all, rejoicing and delighted
Beauty. that God is all Beauty and all Grace in Himself, supremely,
infinitely, above all created things. ‘They shall perish, but
Thou remainest, and all of them shall grow old like a gar-
ment.’* If, therefore, our rejoicing is not in God, it will
always be false and delusive. It is to this that those words
of Solomon apply which he addressed to that joy which has
its sources in created things: ‘To mirth, I said, Why art
thou vainly deceived?’ that is when the heart suffers
itself to be attracted by created things.
CHAPTER XXI.
The evils of the Will’s rejoicing in Natural Goods.
‘Sixevilsof THoueH many of these evils and benefits, which I describe
tral Goods under these several divisions of Joy, be common to all kinds
sake. of joy, nevertheless, because they flow directly from joy and
the rejection of it—though comprised under any one of these
divisions—I speak under each head of some evils and benefits,
which are also found under another, because connected with
that joy which is common to all. But my chief object is
to speak of those particular evils and benefits which rejoicing,
or not rejoicing, in all things, ministers unto the soul. I call
them particular evils, because they flow primarily and imme-
diately from one particular kind of rejoicing, and only
secondarily and mediately from another. For instance, the
evil of tepidity flows directly from all and every kind of
joy, and is therefore common to the six kinds in general;
* Ps, ci. 27, + Eccles. ii, 2.
EVILS OF REJOICING IN NATURAL GOODS. 289
but that of sensuality is a particular evil, which flows directly
only from joy in the natural goods of which I am speaking.
The spiritual and corporal evils, then, which directly and
effectually flow from rejoicing in Natural Goods, are, in num-
ber, six principal evils.
The first is vain glory, presumption, pride, and disesteem
of our neighbour; for no man can entertain an excessive
esteem of one thing without wanting in respect for some
other thing. The result is, at least, that we disesteem and
despise all else; because naturally, by esteeming one thing
we withdraw our heart from all besides, and fix it upon that.
It is most easy to glide from this real contempt into an
intentional and deliberate despising of others; in particular
or in general, not in thoughts only, but in words as well, to
the extent of saying that such a person is not like such an one.
The second evil is complacency and sensual delight.
The third evil is flattery and empty praise, wherein there
is delusion and vanity, as the Prophet saith, ‘O my people,
they that call thee blessed deceive thee.’* For, even if we
speak truly when we praise the grace and beauty of another,
it will be strange if some evil be not involved, either in
causing him to fall into vain complacency and joy, or in
ministering food to his imperfect affections and intentions.
The fourth evil is a general one: it dulls the reason and
the spiritual sense, as the joy of temporal goods does, and in
a certain way even more. For, as natural goods are more
intimately connected with man than temporal goods are, the
~ joy which they minister makes a quicker and deeper impres-
sion upon the senses, and more effectually blunts them.
Reason and judgment are no longer free, but overshadowed
by the cloud of this joy which is so inherent in us; and
hence,
* Is, iii. 12,
82
CHAP;
XXiI.
1, Contempt
for others,
2. Sins of the
flesh.
3. Flattery.
BOOK
Til.
5. Dissipa- +
tion of mind.
6. Weariness
of God,
Universality
and power of
the second
evil.
260 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
The fifth evil is the dissipation of the mind by created things.
Then the sixth is spiritual sloth and tepidity, which grow
into weariness and sadness in Divine things, so that in the
end we come to hate them. Pure spirituality is inevitably
lost in this joy, at least in principle; for if any spirituality
exist, it will be exceedingly sensual and gross, not interior,
nor recollected—consisting in sensible delight rather than in
the strength of the spirit. If we are in mind so mean and
weak as not to destroy the habit of this joy—an imperfect
habit of it even is sufficient to sully the purity of our
spirituality, without consenting to the acts which this joy
suggests—we are living in the weakness of sense rather than
in the power of the spirit. This will become manifest in
the matter of perfection and fortitude when the occasion
shall arise, though I do not deny that many virtues may
coexist with great imperfections, but no pure or healthy
interior spirituality can coexist with these unchecked re-
joicings ; for here the flesh almost reigns, which wars against
the spirit, and though we may be unconscious of the evil,
yet, at least, secret distractions are the result. :
I now return to the second evil, which involves innu-
merable others. No pen can describe, no words can ex-
press, the nature and extent of the misery that results from
rejoicing in natural grace and beauty. These are daily occa-
sions of murders, of honour lost, of insults, of extravagant
dissipation, emulations, contentions, adultery and violence, of
the ruin of Saints, comparable in number to the third part of
the stars of heaven, swept down to the earth by the tail of
the dragon.* ‘Howis the gold become dim, the finest colour
is changed, the stones of the sanctuary are scattered in the
top of every street. The noble sons of Sion, and they that
were clothed in the best gold, how are they esteemed as
* Apoe. xii. 4,
a er)
ee ea a
SINS OF THE FLESH. 261
earthen vessels, the work of the potter’s hands!’?* Is any
condition secure against the poison of this evil? Who has
’ not drunk, be it much or little, of the golden cup of the
Babylonian woman, that sitteth on the ‘scarlet-coloured
beast, full of names of blasphemy, having seven heads and
ten horns?’* Neither high nor low, neither saint nor sinner
lives, to whom she has not given her cup to drink from,
suborning the heart in some thing; for all the kings of the
earth have drunk of the wine of her fornication. She seizes
upon all conditions of men, the highest and the noblest, the
sacred Priesthood itself, and puts the cup of her abominations
in the holy place: ‘There shall be in the Temple the abo-
mination of desolation.’f Even one spiritually strong scarcely
escapes the wine of this cup, which is empty rejoicing. This
is the reason why it is said that all the kings of the earth
have drunk of it; for there are very few, however holy
they may be, who have not drunk and been corrupted, in .
some measure, by the cups of joy which the pleasure of
natural grace and beauty supply. Observe, too, that the
word is ‘drunk,’ for if we drink of the wine of this joy, it
seizes on the heart and deadens it, obscuring the Reason, as
in men drunk with wine. And if no antidote be taken at
once, and the poison expelled, the life of the soul is in danger.
Spiritual weakness having grown upon us, this poison will
drag us down to such depths of evil that we shall grind in
the mill like Samson, t deprived of sight, with the hair of our
first strength cut off, captives in the hands of our enemies;
and afterwards, perhaps, die the second death, as he did the
first: the draughts of this joy producing spiritually in us
what they did corporally in him, and in many unto this day.
In the end our enemies will surround us and say to our great
* Lam, iv. 1, 2. t Dan. ix. 27.
t+ Apoe. xvii. 3. § Judges xvi. 21.
CHAP,
XXxiI.
BOOK
262 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL. |
confusion, Art thou he who broke the cords, tore the lions,
——— killed the Philistines, carried away the gates, and set thyself
Fall of the
Angels,
free from the hands of thine enemies ?
Let me now conclude with the requisite instruction for
this poison. If you feel your heart moved by the vain joy of
Natural Goods, remember how great vanity it is to rejoice in
anything but in the service of God, how dangerous it is and
ruinous. Remember the punishment of the angels who
rejoiced in their beauty and endowments; they fell deformed
into the abyss below. And how great are the evils which
vanity brings daily upon men! Resolve, therefore, in time
to take the remedy, according to the proverb, Resist the evil
in its beginnings; remedies are too late, when the disease
has grown; for when the evil has grown in the heart, the
remedy is too late: ‘Look not upon the wine when it is
yellow, when the colour thereof shineth in the glass. It
goeth in pleasantly ; but in the end it will bite like a snake,
and will spread abroad poison like a basilisk.’ *
CHAPTER XXI.
The benefits of not rejoicing in Natural Goods,
Many are the benefits which the soul reaps when it withdraws
the heart from this joy. For beside disposing itself for the
love of God, and the other virtues, it makes a way for per-
sonal humility and universal charity towards our neighbours.
When our affections, free from the influence of Natural Goods,
which are deceitful, rest upon no one, the soul is free to love
all men reasonably and spiritually, as God wills them to be
loved. No one deserves to be loved except for his virtues, and
when we love in this way, our love is pleasing unto God, and
* Prov, xxiii, 31, 32,
—EE—S—
So
BENEFITS or DETACHMENT FROM NATURAL GOODS. 263
in great liberty, and if there be attachment in it there is
greater attachment to God. For then the more this love
grows, the more also grows our love of God, and the deeper
our love of Him the more we shall love our neighbour: for
the principle of both is the same.
Another great benefit is the perfect observance of our
Saviour’s words: ‘If any man will come after Me, let him
deny himself.’* Now the soul can never do this, if it has
any joy in its natural endowments; for he who has, even the
slightest self-esteem, neither denies himself nor follows Christ.
Another great benefit of this self-denial is, that it makes
the soul tranquil, empties it ofthe sources of distractions,
controls the senses, and especially the eyes. The spiritual
man, seeking no joy, will neither look upon, nor suffer his
other senses to be occupied with, these endowments, that he
may not be attracted by them, nor be led to waste time or
thought upon them, ‘ according to the likeness of a serpent,
like the deaf asp that stoppeth her ears.’t If we set a guard
over our senses, which are the doors of the soul, we shall
thereby guard and increase its purity and tranquillity also.
Another benefit, of no less importance, which those who
have made progress in the mortification of this joy, obtain, is
this: Impure objects and the knowledge of them no longer
impress, and sully the soul, as in their case to whom this joy is
still somewhat pleasurable. This mortification and self-denial
grows into a spiritual pureness of soul and body, of mind and
sense, which issues in a certain angelical conformity with
God, rendering both soul and body a worthy temple of the
Holy Ghost. Man cannot be thus pure if his heart enter-
tains any joy in these natural gifts and graces. It is not
necessary to have given consent to any impure act, for this
joy is sufficient to sully the soul and senses with the know-
* S. Matt. xvi. 24. t Ps. lvii. 5.
2. Following
of Christ,
3. Tranquil-
lity of mind,
4. Purity of
heart, .
BOOK
Ii.
264 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
ledge of evil, as it is written: ‘The Holy Spirit of dis-—
———— cipline will withdraw Himself from thoughts that.are without —
5. Esteem of
the good.
6. Generosity
of soul.
Third source
of Joy,—
Sensible
Goods.
understanding,’* that is, from thoughts not directed to God
by right Reason.
Another general benefit is this: Beside our deliverance
from the evils already mentioned, we are delivered also from
innumerable other follies and evils, spiritual and temporal,
especially from that contempt which falls to the lot of all
those who value themselves, or rejoice either in their own
natural gifts or in those of others. In this way we shall be
esteemed as wise and excellent men, as in truth all are who
make no account of natural goods, but only of those which
are pleasing unto God.
These benefits issue in a final one, which is a certain gene-
rosity of mind, as necessary in the service of God as liberty
of spirit, by which temptations are easily overcome, afflictions
endured, and by which virtues grow and thrive.
CHAPTER XXII:
Of the third kind, Sensible Goods. Their nature and varieties.
The regulation of the Will with respect to them.
I HAVE now to speak of Joy in Sensible Goods, wherein the
will rejoices. By sensible goods I mean all that is cognisable
by the senses, of sight, of hearing, of smell, of taste and of
touch, and of the interior working of the imaginative powers ;
all of which belong to the interior and exterior bodily senses.
In order to render the will blind to, and purified from, all
joy in sensible objects, directing it to God, we must take this
truth for granted. The sense of man’s lower nature is not,
and cannot be, capable of knowing or comprehending God, as
* Wisd. i. 5.
GOODS OF THE SENSES AND OF IMAGINATION. 265
He is. The eye cannot see Him, or anything that resembles
Him ; the ear cannot hear His voice, nor any sound that resem-
bles it; the smell cannot perceive any odours so sweet, the
palate cannot taste any savour so delicious, nor can the touch
feel any contact so exquisite and thrilling, nor any thing like
unto Him, and the thoughts and imagination also cannot con-
ceive any form or shape which can possibly be any represen-
tation of Him. ‘From the beginning of the world they have
not heard, nor perceived with the ears: the eye hath not
seen, O God, besides Thee; the eye hath not seen, nor ear
heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man.’*
Now, sweetness and delight enter into the senses in two
ways : either from the mind through some interior Divine com-
munication, or from outward objects represented to them.
But according to the text just quoted, our lower nature can-
not know God either in the way of the spirit or in the way of
sense ; for having no capacity for so great a matter, it com-
prehends the spiritual and intellectual, sensually only. There-
fore to occupy the will with the joy that has its sources in any
of these apprehensions, will be at the least but vanity, and an
impediment in the way of employing the energy of the will
upon God, by rejoicing in Him alone. This is what the soul
can never do unless it purifies itself from all joy in sensible
things, for if it should rejoice herein at all that will be but
vanity. When the soul does not rest here, but instantly, as
soon as the will becomes conscious of any joy in any object of
sense, elevates itself upwards unto God—that joy supplying
motives thereto and power —it is well with it, and then it need
not suppress such emotions, but may profit by them, and even
ought to do so, so as to accomplish so holy an act: for there
are souls whom sensible objects greatly influence in the way
of God. Such souls, however, must be very cautious, and
* ds, lxiv. 4; 1 Cor. ii. 9.
God seen in
His works.
BOOK
It.
Touchstone
of sensational
pleasures,—
Elevation of
the soul to
God.
266 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
watch the issues of this conduct, for very often many spiri-
tual persons indulge themselves in these sensible recreations,
under the pretence of giving themselves to prayer and to
God. Now what they do should be called recreation, not
prayer, and their pleasure in this is their own rather than
God’s. Though their intention be directed to God, yet the
effect is sensible recreation, and the fruit of it is weakness and
imperfection, rather than the quickening of the will, and the
surrender of it into the hands of God.
I propose here to lay down a rule by which we may know
when sensible sweetness is profitable, and when it is not.
Whenever, in hearing music, or other agreeable sounds, in
smelling sweet odours, in tasting what is delicious, in touch-
ing what is soothing, the affections of the will rise consciously
in an instant unto God, and that movement gives us more
pleasure than the sensible occasion of it, and when we have
no pleasure in that cause, but because of its effects, that is a
sign of profit, and that the objects of sense minister unto the
spirit. In this way we may use them, for now they subserve
that end for which God hath made them; namely, that He
may be the better known and loved on their account.
Observe, too, that he, in whom sensible objects produce this
purely spiritual effect, does not for that reason seek them,
nor make any account of them, though they excite in him
this sense of God; neither is he solicitous about them; and
when they are present, the will passes instantly beyond them
and abandons them, fixing itself upon God.
The reason why he attaches no importance to these
motives, although they keep him in the way of God, is that
the mind is so prompt, in and through all, to fly upwards to
God, so filled, preoccupied, and satiated with the Spirit of
God as to want or desire nothing more: and if it should
desire anything for that end, it immediately passes on beyond
it, forgets it, and thinks nothing more about it.
OS
EVILS OF ATTACHMENT TO SENSIBLE GOODS. 267
On the other hand, he who is not conscious of this liberty
of spirit, amid sensible objects and sweetness, but whose will
rests and feeds upon them, ought to make no such usage of
them, for they will be injurious to him. Though such an
one may employ his Reason about them, and in that way
labour to make them subserve his spiritual advancement ;
still, because the appetite delights in them in the way of
sense, and because the effect corresponds always with the
pleasure which they minister, it is certain that they area
greater hindrance than help, a greater evil than benefit.
And when he sees that the spirit of these recreations reigns
over him, he ought to mortify it; for the stronger it grows,
the greater will be his imperfections and weakness.
Every satisfaction, therefore, whether accidental or de-
signed, which proceeds from the senses, the spiritual man
must use only for God, carrying up unto Him that joy of his
soul, so that it may be profitable and perfect ; remembering
that every joy, which is not founded on the denial and
annihilation of all joy whatever, however noble it may seem
to be, is vanity and without profit, and a hindrance to the
Union of the will with God.
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Evils which befall the soul when the will has joy in Sensible Goods.
Ix the first place, if the soul does not quench the Joy which }
proceeds from Sensible things, by directing it to God, all
those evils in general, of which I have spoken, the fruit of ™*
every kind of joy, flow also from this joy in sensible things :
namely, obscuration of Reason, tepidity, spiritual sloth and
the like. But to descend to particulars, there are many
evils, spiritual and temporal, into which men fall ero
this joy in sensible things.
BOOK —
It.
Inordinate
Joy in
Sight,
‘Hearing,
Taste,
Touch.
268 - THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
1. Joy in visible things, when we do not deny ourselves
therein for the sake of God, produces directly a spirit of
vanity, distraction of mind, unruly concupiscence, want of
modesty, interior and exterior restlessness, impure thoughts
and envyings.
2. The Joy which the hearing of unprofitable ihfogs pro-
duces, begets directly distraction of the imagination, gossip-
ing, envy, rash judgments, and changing thoughts, from
which many and other ruinous evils flow.
3. Joy in sweet odours begets a loathing of the poor which
is contrary to the doctrine of Christ, a dislike of ministering.
unto others, an unhearty submission to humble deeds, and
spiritual insensibility, at least proportional to the appetite
for this joy.
4. Joy in meat and drink produces directly gluttony and
drunkenness, anger, discord, and uncharitableness towards our
neighbour and the poor, and makes us like the Rich Man in
his treatment of Lazarus, while he himself ‘ feasted sump-
tuously every day.’* From this arise bodily disorders, sick-
ness, and evil impulses, because the provocations of luxury
are increased. It is the source of great spiritual torpor also,
and it vitiates the desire for spiritual things, so that the soul
has no pleasure in them, cannot even endure them, nor in
any way occupy itself about them. This joy, too, dissipates
all the other senses and the heart, and creates a feeling of
general discontent.
5. Joy in matters of touch occasions much greater and
more pernicious evils, which most rapidly immerse the
senses and injure the mind, destroying all energy and vigour.
Hence the abominable sin of effeminacy, or the provocations
to it, in proportion to this joy. It produces luxuriousness,
makes the mind effeminate and timid, the senses delicate
* S, Luke xvi. 19.
near oe
JOY OF SELF-DENIAL IN SENSIBLE GOODS. 269
and yielding, disposed for sin and wickedness. It fills the
heart with empty rejoicing, makes the tongue licéntious, and
the eyes wanton, and renders the other senses proportionally
brutish. It confounds the judgment, and buries it in folly
and spiritual stupidity, it begets moral cowardice and incon-
sistency of purpose, and by reason of the soul’s darkness and
the heart’s weakness, makes men fear even where no fear is.
It creates at times a spirit of confusion, insensibility of mind
and conscience, because it enfeebles the Reason so that a man
can neither take good counsel nor give it, and incapacitates
the soul for all moral and spiritual good, rendering it useless
as a broken vessel. =
All these evils flow from this particular joy. In some
people more, in others fewer, more or less intense, according
to the intenseness of this joy, and according to the weakness
and irresolution of him who indulges himself in it. For
there are some people who naturally are more hurt on slight,
than others on great, occasions.
Finally, the evils into which men fall through the joy of
the touch are as numerous as those occasioned by that of
Natural Goods. AsI have already described them, I shall
not repeat them here, nor the many others also, such as the
diminution of spiritual exercises and of corporal penances,
tepidity, and indevotion in the use of the Sacraments of
Penance, and of the Eucharist.
CHAPTER XXV.
The spiritual and temporal benefits of self-denial in the Joy of Sensible
things.
MARrveELLovs benefits result from self-denial in the joy which
sensible goods supply; some are spiritual and some temporal.
1. The soul, by refraining from joy in sensible objects,
270 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
recovers itself from the distractions into which it falls through
the excessive indulgence of the senses, and recollects itself in
God. Spirituality and the acquired virtues are «preserved
and increased.
2. The second spirituai benefit of not rejoicing in Sensible
Goods is great; and we may say, of a truth, that the sensual
becomes spiritual, the animal rational, that man leads an
angelical life, that the temporal and the human become
heavenly and Divine. As the man who seeks for pleasure in
sensual things, and founds all his joy upon them, ought not,
and deserves not, to be called by any other name than this,
namely, sensual and animal; so the man whose joy is beyond
them, deserves the name of spiritual and heavenly. This is
most evidently true, for as the energies of the senses, and the
power of sensuality, resist, as the Apostle saith, the energy
and power of the spirit, ‘ the flesh lusteth against the spirit,
and the spirit against the flesh ;’ * so when they diminish and
fail, those of the spirit grow and increase ; that which impeded
their growth having been taken away. Thus the spirit made
perfect—the higher portion of the soul, and that to which
the communications of God are made— merits those appella-
tions, because it is made perfect by the spiritual and heavenly
gifts and graces of God. We have the authority of S. Paul
for this; he calls the sensual man—the man who wastes the
energy of his will upon objects of sense—the animal man, and-
the other, whose will is fixed on God, the spiritual man:
‘The animal man perceiveth not these things that are of the
Spirit of God. But the spiritual man judgeth all things.’ t
The soul receives in this self-denial an admirable benefit; a
disposition meet to receive the gifts and spiritual graces of
God.
3. The third benefit is the great increase of the joys and
* Galat. v. 17.
+ 1 Cor. ii. 14, 15, Animalis autem homo non percipit.
- HUNDREDFOLD JOY OF THE PURE. 271
pleasures of the Will in this life; for, as our Saviour saith:
* They shall receive an hundredfold.’ If thou wilt deny thy-
self one joy, our Lord will reward thee a hundredfold,
spiritually and temporally, in this world; and for one joy
indulged in sensible goods thou shalt have a hundred sorrows
and afflictions. As to the eye, now purged from all joy in
seeing, the soul receives joy, directed to God, in all that is’
seen, whether human or Divine. As to the ear, purged
from all joy in hearing, the soul receives joy a hundredfold,
and that most spiritual, directed to God in all that is heard,
whether human or Divine. The same observation applies to
the other senses. For as all that-our first parents said and
did in the state of innocence in Paradise furnished them
with means of sweeter contemplation, because their sensual
nature was subject unto Reason, so he also whose senses are
subject to the spirit and purged from all sensible objects, in
their first motions, elicits delight of sweet knowledge and
Contemplation of God.
To the pure, therefore, high things and low are profitable,
and minister to his greater purity; while both the one and
the other are occasions of greater evil to the impure, by
reason of his impurity. But he who does not repress the
satisfaction of his appetites will never enjoy the ordinary
tranquillity of rejoicing in God, through the instrumentality
of His creatures. All the functions and powers of his senses,
who no longer lives after the flesh, are directed to Divine
Contemplation. For, as it is a philosophical truth, that the
life of every creature is in harmony with its constitution, so
also is it beyond all contradiction clear, that he who is
spiritually minded—his animal life being mortified—must be
wholly tending towards God, for all his actions and affections
are those of the spiritual life. Such an one, therefore, pure
s 8S, Matt. xix, 29,
(1) In Sight.
(2) Hearing.
(3) And the
other senses,
To the Pure
all things are
&@ pure Joy.
272 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL. ©
BOOK in heart, finds in all things that knowledge of God which is
delicious, sweet, chaste, pure, spiritual, joyous, and loving.
From these considerations I come to this conclusion, that,
until we shall have so habituated our senses to this purgation
from sensible joy, so as to have obtained the benefit of which
I have spoken, namely, that instant movement upwards to
God, we still need to deny ourselves in all joy, that we may
wean our soul from the life of sense. I am afraid, that when
not thoroughly spiritualised, we may gratify and invigorate
the senses rather than the spirit, under the influence of
sensible things; the powers of sense still ruling over us in our
conduct, whereby sensuality is increased, maintained, and
nourished. The words of our Saviour are: ‘ That which is
born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit
is spirit.’* Lay this to heart, for it is the truth. Let him
who has not mortified his senses in sensible things not presume
to avail himself of the energy and functions of sense therein,
thinking that they will help him to become spiritual; for the
strength of the soul will increase the more, if we cast these
things aside, rather by the quenching of joyand desire, than
by any employment of them that we can make.
4. Joys at It is not necessary for me to speak now of the goods of
Glory attainable in the life to come. For beside that the
bodily gifts of Mobility and Clarity, in Glory, will be much
grander than in those who. have not denied themselves in this
joy, there will be an increase of essential glory, corresponding
Nocross; to their love of God, for whom they have left all things: because
— every momentary and fleeting joy, which we now deny, will
work in us eternally an infinite weight of glory: ‘ that which is
at present momentary and light of our tribulation, worketh
for us above measure exceedingly an eternal weight of glory.’f
I do not refer here to the other benefits, moral, temporal
* §. John iii. 6. : + 2 Cor. iv. 17.
SUPERIORITY OF MORAL GOODS. 273
and spiritual, the fruits of this Night of Joy, for they are all
those already described, and in a higher order, because these
joys are more intimately related to our nature, and, therefore,
he who denies himself in them acquires a more interior
purity.
CHAPTER XXVI.
The fourth kind of goods: Moral Goods. How the will may lawfully
rejoice in them.
Tue fourth kind of goods in which the Will rejoices are
Moral Goods. By these I mean virtues, the moral habits of
them, the practice of any virtue whatever, works of mercy,
keeping of God’s law, politeness, good dispositions and
temper. These moral goods, in possession and in practice,
deserve, perhaps more than the other three kinds I have
mentioned, that the will should rejoice in them. Man may
rejoice in these for one of two reasons, or for both together,
either because he possesses them, or because of the benefits
which they bring with them, of which they are, as it were,
instruments or means. Now the possession of the other
goods is deserving of no joy whatever, for of themselves they
_ do good to no man, neither is it in them, for they are fleet-
ing and frail, yea, rather they are the occasions of pain and
grief and sorrow of heart. Even if they deserved to be
rejoiced in for the second reason, namely that man may
employ them towards elevating his soul to God, yet this is
so uncertain that in general such rejoicing does more harm
than good.
Moral Goods, however, deserve some Joy on the part of
their possessor, for their intrinsic worth. And as they bring
with them in their train peace and tranquillity, the right use
of Reason, and a consistent conduct, man cannot, humanly
VOL. I. T
CHAP.
XXV.
Fourth
source of
Joy,—Moral
Goods.
Their in-
trinsic
worth, and
happy effects,
BOOK
0
Virtue to be
loved for its
own sake.
2. Solomon,
274 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
speaking, possess anything better in this world. And as
virtues merit love and esteem, for their own sakes, humanly
speaking, men may well rejoice in the possession and practice
of them, for what they are in themselves, and for the good,
human and temporal, of which they are the channels.
It was in this sense that the Philosophers and wise men
and princes of old esteemed and commended virtue, laboured
to acquire it and to practise it, though they were heathens, and
regarded it only in a worldly light, seeing nothing in it but
the temporal, corporal, and natural benefits which resulted
from it. They not only obtained those benefits, and the repu-
tation they aimed at, but more than this; God Himself, Who
loves all goodness, even in heathens and barbarians, and Who
impedes no good, as it is written, ‘ which nothing hindereth,
beneficent,’ * increased their substance, honours, dominion,
and peace. He thus dealt with the Romans: because they
enacted good laws, He made them masters almost of the
whole world; He recompensed, for their good customs ina
temporal way, those who, because of their unbelief, were
incapable of the everlasting reward. God loves moral goods:
for when Solomon asked for an understanding heart to judge
the people, He was so pleased with this prayer that He said
unto him: ‘ Because thou hast asked this thing, and hast not
asked for thyself long life or riches, nor the lives of thy ene-
mies, but hast asked for thyself wisdom to discern judgment,
behold I have done for thee according to thy words, ... .
yea, and the things also which thou didst not ask, I have »
given thee, to wit, riches and glory, so that no one hath been
like thee among the kings in all days heretofore.’t
Though a Christian.too ought to rejoice in Moral Goods,
and in the good works he does, because they minister to his
temporal well-being, his joy ought not to stop there where
* Wisd. vii. 22. + 3 Kings iii, 11-13.
Pe <me Pe eL
a Sat ahh
be ne
. = eae
J
a
BEAUTY AND EXCELLENCE OF NATURAL VIRTUE. 275
that of the heathens did, who saw nothing beyond this
mortal life; but inasmuch as he has the light of Faith, by
which he hopes for everlasting life, and without which all
things whatever are valueless, his sole and chief rejoicing
should be of the second kind, namely, that eternal life is the
reward and issue of the good works he does for the love of
God. All his care and all his joy ought to be that he
serves and honours God by his virtues and good life. For
without this intention all our virtues are worthless in the
sight of God, as we are taught in the parable of the Ten Vir-
CHAP.
XXVI.
Merely na-
tural virtue
incapable of
Supernatural
reward,
Parable of
the Ten
gins. Allthese had preserved their virginity and had wrought Virgins
good works, yet five of them, whose joy therein was not of
the second kind, directed unto God, but rather of the first,
for they rejoiced and gloried in mere possession, were denied
admission into heaven, unrecognised and unrewarded by the
Bridegroom.*
There have been many persons in the world of old times
who had some virtue and did good works ; and there are many
Christians also at this time, who are virtuous men, and who
do great things, but their virtue and good works are utterly
useless in the matter of eternal life: because they do not, in
them, seek the honour and glory and love of God solely, and
above all things. A Christian ought to rejoice, not because
of his good works and virtuous life, but because his life
and acts are such solely for the love of God, and for
no other reason whatever. For as works done only for God’s
honour will have a greater reward of glory, so good works
which men do under the influence of other considerations,
will end in our greater confusion in the sight of God. The
Christian, therefore, if he will direct his rejoicing to God in
moral goods, must keep in mind, that the value of his good
works, fasting, almsgiving, penances, and prayers, does not
* S. Matt. xxv.
2
276 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK depend on their number, and nature, but on the love which
moves him to perform them for God; and that they are then
quod vis most perfect when they are wrought in the most pure and
sincere love of God, and with the least regard to our own
present and future interests, to joy and sweetness, consolation
and praise. The heart, therefore, must not rest on the joy,
comfort, delight, and advantages which holy habits and good
works bring with them, but refer all to God, purifying itself
from all joy, and hiding itself from it in darkness; and desir-
ing that God only may rejoice in what it does in secret, and
all this without respect to any other consideration than God’s
honour and glory. Thus all the energies of the will, with
regard to moral goods, will be all concentrated in God. 4
CHAPTER XXVII.
Seven Evils to which men are liable if the Will rejoices in Moral Goods, .
THE principal evils to which men become exposed through
the rejoicing of the Will in good works and a virtuous life
are seven in number, and most fatal, because they are
spiritual; I shall now give a brief description of them:
1. Self-con- 1. The first is vanity, pride, vain glory, and presumption,
on for no man can rejoice in his own works without attributing
a great value to them. From this springs boasting and
other faults; an instance of which we have in the Pharisce
who in his prayer boasted of his fasts and the other good
works he was doing.
2. Rash and 2. The second evil is generally connected with the first,
contemptuous nee . :
Semeuia and it is this: we come to judge others, and to pronounce
them to be comparatively wicked and imperfect, and that
their good works are inferior to ours; we despise them in
our hearts, and sometimes express ourselves contemptuously
about them. The Pharisee had fallen into this also, for in
i
SELF-SEEKING IN MORAL GOODS. 277
his prayers, he said, ‘O God, I give Thee thanks, that I am ~
not as the rest of men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, as
also is this publican; I fast twice in a week.’* Thus by
one act he fell into these two evils, namely, self-esteem and
contempt of others, as many Christians do daily, who say, I
am not like such an one, neither is my life such as his,
Yea, many of them are even worse than the Pharisee; he
certainly despised others and pointed out the object of his
contempt, saying ‘this publican:’ they, indeed, are not
satisfied with this, but give way to anger and envy when they
hear others praised, or that they are doing more, or are more
useful men, than themselves.
3. The third evil is that, as they look for their own satis-
faction in their good works, they will in general do only
such as will furnish them with this satisfaction, or obtain
the commendation of others. They do all their works, as
our Saviour saith, ‘ for to be seen of men,’ f and not for God
alone.
4. The fourth evil issues out of the third, and is this: God
will not reward them for their good works, because they seek
it here in this world in the joy, or the comfort, or the honour-
able advantages of their good works; of them our Saviour
saith, ‘Amen. I say to you, they have received their
reward.’ { They will therefore have nothing but their labour,
and confusion of face without its reward. The children of
men are so miserably involved in this evil that, in my opi-
nion, the greater part of the good works, which are publicly
done, are either vicious or worthless, or they are imper-
fect and defective in God’s sight, because men do not de-
tach themselves from self-interest and from human respect.
What other opinion can we form of those good works, which
men do, or of the monuments which they raise, but which,
* S. Luke xviii. 11, 12. + S. Matt, xxiii. 5. t Ib, vi. 2,
4. Loss of
Supernatural
reward,
BOOK
Ir.
How men
seek them-
selves in
their
works.
Subtleties of
Self-love.
Goods works
to be hidden
from others
and from
self,
ee ee ae aoe eee
278 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
“would have been undone and unbuilt, if their authors had
not been influenced by worldly honour, human respect, and
the vanity of this life? Is not all this too often done in
order to perpetuate a name or a pedigree, or to mark au-
thority and lordship; and that to the extent of setting up
armorial bearings in churches, as if they would establish
themselves there as Images for the veneration of men? At
the sight of these good works of some people, we may well
say that men respect themselves more than God.
But passing from these who are the worst, how many are
there who in their good works fall into these evils in many
ways? Some expect their good works to be extolled, others
expect gratitude for them, others enumerate them, and
delight in the fact that such and such persons, and even the
whole world are aware of them; sometimes they will employ
a third person to convey their alms, or to do any other good
work, in order to make it the more known; some, too, look |
both for praise and reward. This is nothing else but to
sound a trumpet in the streets, like vain men, but whom
God for that reason will never reward.*
If men wish to avoid this evil they must hide their good
works so that God alone. shall see them, and they must not
wish any one to think much of them. They must hide them
not only from others, but from themselves also; that is,
they must take no satisfaction in them nor regard them with
complacency, as if they thought them of any value. This is
the meaning of those words of our Saviour: ‘ Let not thy
left hand know what thy right hand doth.’f That is, do not
look with temporal and carnal eyes upon thy spiritual
works. When this precept is observed, the ‘strength of the
will is concentrated in God, and our good works become
fruitful in His sight; but where it is not observed, we shall
* S. Matt. vi. 2. ; + Ih, vi. 3.
ee SS
GOOD WORKS VITIATED BY SELF-LOVE. 279
not .only lose our labour, but, very frequently, because of
our interior boasting and vanity, sin grievously against God.
Those words of Job also are to be understood in this sense :
nas as, MY heart in secret hath rejoiced, and I have kissed
my hand with my mouth, which is a very great iniquity.’*
Here the ‘hand’ means our good works, and ‘ mouth’ our
will which regards them with complacency. This is self-
complacency, for the words of Job are, if my ‘heart hath
in secret rejoiced,’ and a ‘great iniquity, and a denial
against the Most High God.’ To attribute our good works
to ourselves isto deny them to be God’s, from whom all good
works proceed, and to follow the example of Lucifer, who
rejoiced in himself, denying to God what was His, and arro-
gating it to himself. |
5. The fifth evil is, that men of this kind make no pro-
gress in Perfection; for cleaving to the pleasure and comfort
of their good works, when this pleasure and comfort cease —
which is usually the case when God seeks their advancement,
CHAP.
XXVII
5. No
Spiritual
Progress.
when He gives them dry bread, which is the bread of the
perfect, when He deprives them of the milk of babes, when
He tries their strength, and purifies their delicate appetites,
so that they may be able to taste the food of the strong —
they become generally faint of heart, and fail to persevere,
because their good works are no longer sources of pleasure.
To this we may apply in a spiritual sense those words of the
Wise Man: ‘Dying flies spoil the sweetness of the oint-
ment.’ t+ For when mortifications come in their way they
die to their good works, abandon them, and lose perse-
verance, wherein spiritual sweetness and interior comfort
consist.
6. The sixth evil is a general delusion under the in-
fluence of which men mistake the value of their good works,
* Job xxxi, 26-28, + Eccles, x. i,
6. False test
of value,
BOOK
Til,
280 . THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
considering those wherein they find delight to be of greater
importance than those wherein they find none: they praise
and esteem the former, but despise and reject the latter; yet
those works, generally, in which a man is most mortified —
especially when he is not advanced in Perfection — are more
pleasing and precious in the eyes of God, by reason of that
self-denial involved in their performance, than those good
works in which he finds consolation, where self-seeking so
easily intrudes. ‘ The evil of their hand,’ saith the Prophet,
‘they call good ;’ * that is, what is evil in their work they say
is good. And they come to this because they derive their
joy from their good works, and not from pleasing God only.
The extent of this evil, among spiritually minded men as
well as ordinary Christians, baffles all description, for scarcely
any one can be found who doeth good simply for the love of
God, without relying on some advantage of joy or comfort,
or of some other consideration.
7. The seventh evil is that man, so far as he does not
suppress all joy in moral good works, is the more incapable
of listening to reasonable counsel and instruction with refe-
rence to his duties. The habitual weakness contracted by
doing good works with an eye to this empty joy, so fetters
him that he cannot accept the advice given him as the best,
or if he does so accept it he cannot act upon it, through lack
of resolution. The love of God and of our neighbour is
greatly weakened in these persons, for their self-love, which
they indulge in with reference to their own good works, makes
charity cold.
* Mich, vii. 3,
BENEFITS OF SELF-DENIAL IN MORAL GOODS. 281
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The benefits of repressing all Joy in Moral Goods.
Very great benefits result to the soul, provided the Will is
restrained from rejoicing in Moral Goods. In the first place,
it is delivered from many temptations and illusions of Satan,
which rejoicing in our good works secretly involves, as we
learn from these words of God to Job: ‘He sleepeth under
the shadow, in the covert of the reed, and in moist places.’ *
This applies to the evil spirit, for he deceives the soul in the
moisture of joy and in the hollowness of the reed, that is, of
good works done through vanity. Nor is it strange that the
devil should deceive it secretly in this rejoicing; for, inde-
pendently of the devil’s suggestion, this empty joy is a delusion
itself, especially when a feeling of boasting lurks in the
heart, as it is written, ‘Thy arrogancy hath deceived thee and
the pride of thy heart.’t Can there be a greater delusion
than that of boasting? The soul is delivered from it by
purifying itself from this joy.
2. The second benefit is that our good works are done
with greater deliberation and in greater perfection. If the
passion of Joy and satisfaction prevails, no deliberation can
be had; for then the irascible and concupiscible faculties are
so strong that they will not bend to Reason; and, in general,
under their influence we change our works and intentions,
taking one thing in hand to-day and another to-morrow,
beginning everything and bringing nothing to good effect.
If Joy be the main-spring of our work, we shall be incon-
sistent: some are naturally more so than others; and when
our joy ceases, we abstain also from our work, and our inten-
tions are abandoned, however important they may be. With
* Job xl. 16. + Jerem. xlix. 16.
CHAP,
XXVIII.
1. Victory
over Pride.
2. Greater
strength and
purity of
Will,
q ~~ 7 ne
tee
989 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
3. Poverty of
spirit.
4, Prudence
and Delibera-
tion.
people of this kind, Joy is the soul and strength of their good
works; and when that joy disappears their good works
perish ; neither do they persevere. These are they of whom
Christ saith, that they receive the word with joy, and that
the devil takes it away that they may not persevere. ‘They
by the wayside are they that hear; then the devil cometh
and taketh the word out of their heart, lest believing they
should be saved.’* Their strength consisted solely in their
joy, and therefore to withdraw the will from this joy is an
admirable preparation for perseverance and final success.
This benefit, then, is as great as is the opposite evil. The wise
man regards the substance and benefit of his labour—not the
pleasure which it brings: he is not like one beating the air,
but he elicits from his good works a durable joy, without
demanding the tribute of passing delights.
3. The third benefit is Divine; by quenching this hollow
rejoicing we attain to poverty of spirit, which is one of the
beatitudes: * Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the
kingdom of Heaven.’ f
4. The fourth benefit of suppressing this Joy is, that we
become gentle, humble, and prudent in our doings. We
shall do nothing in a hurry, carried away by the concupiscible
and irascible nature of this joy; neither shall we become
presumptuous through overvaluing our good works under the
influence of it; nor shall we be unconsciously blinded by it.
5. The fifth benefit is that we shall become pleasing unto
God and man, delivered from the dominion of avarice and
gluttony, spiritual sloth and envy, and a thousand other
vices,
* §. Luke viii. 12. + S, Matt. v. 35 -
a
JOY IN SUPERNATURAL GIFTS. 283
CHAPTER XXIX.
The fifth kind of goods, in which the Will has Joy: the Supernatural.
Their nature, and the difference between them and Spiritual Goods.
How Joy in them is to be directed unto God,
I HAVE now to speak of the fifth kind of goods in which the
soul rejoices, and which I call Supernatural. By these I
mean all those gifts and graces of God, which surpass our
natural powers and capacities, called by theologians gratis
date—such as the gifts of ‘wisdom and understanding ’*
given to Solomon, and those mentioned by 8S. Paul, namely
‘faith, the grace of healing, working of miracles, discerning
of spirits, the interpretation of speeches, and the gift of
tongues.’f Though these are all spiritual gifts, like those of
which I am about to speak, still, owing to the great difference
between them, I have made a distinction. These gifts
have an immediate reference to the edification of others, and
are given for that special end, as the Apostle saith: ‘The
manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man unto profit,’ +
speaking of these gifts. But the spiritual gifts lie simply
between the soul and God, in the intercourse of the Intel-
lect and the Will, as I shall explain hereafter. There is,
therefore, a difference between them in respect of their
object. The spiritual gifts are concerned with God and the
soul, but the supernatural gifts, with which I have now to do,
are intended for the edification of others; they differ, too, in
their nature, and consequently in their functions, and the
doctrine concerning them is therefore of necessity different
also.
As to the Supernatural gifts and graces, in this sense, I
observe, with reference to self-denial in the matter of Joy,
that they involve two grand Temporal and Spiritual benefits.
* 3 Kings iv. 29. t 1 Cor, xii. 9, 10. t 1 Cor. xii. 7,
CHAP.
xXXIx.
Fifth source
of Joy,— y
Supernatural
Goods,
Their object
the edifica-
tion of
others.
Their tem-
poral and
spiritual
benefits.
984 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK The Temporal benefits are the healing of the sick, giving
-——— sight to the blind, the raising of the dead to life, the casting
out of devils, foretelling of future events, and others of this
kind. The Spiritual and Eternal benefits are, that God is
known and served through these works by him who doeth
them, and by those for whom and before whom they are
wrought.
ial Now as to the first benefit, namely, the temporal: these
inlovingGod supernatural acts and wonders merit little or no rejoicing on
young the part of the soul, for without the spiritual benefit, they
. are of little or no profit to men, because of themselves, they
are not means of Union with God—that being Charity.
Moreover, they may be wrought in persons not in a state of
grace and of charity; for they may be either the work of
God, as in Balaam the impious prophet, or the work of the
devil, as in Simon Magus, or the effects of mere natural
but secret causes. _These marvellous works, if any of them,
profit him who works them, are true, and the gifts of God.
S. Paul tells us what the value of these works is, when
they are not accompanied by the second benefit, saying: ‘ If
I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not
Charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling
cymbal. And if I should have prophecy, and should know
all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I should have all
faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not Charity,
I am nothing.’* Many men who have thought much of
their own good works, when asking to be admitted unto His
glory, saying, ‘Have not we prophesied in Thy name...
and done many miracles in Thy name?’ will receive for their
only answer: ‘ Depart from Me, you that work iniquity.’t
Man, therefore, ought to rejoice, not in the possession and
exercise of these gifts, but in that he elicits from them the
* 1 Cor, xiii. 1, 2. + S. Matt. vii. 22, 23.
oe
SELF-LOVE IN GRACES GRATIS DATZ. 285
second spiritual benefit, namely, serving God in true Charity,
wherein consists the fruit of everlasting life. Our Lord
rebuked His disciples when they returned to Him with joy
because they had power over evil spirits, saying, ‘ Rejoice
not in this, that spirits are subject unto you: but rejoice in
this, that your names are written in Heaven.* The meaning
of which, according to sound Theology, is: Rejoice, if your
names are written in the Book of Life. Man, therefore,
ought not to rejoice, unless he is walking in the right way,
doing his good works in Charity. For of what profit is any-
thing in the sight of God which is not His love? Now Love
cannot be perfect if it is not strong enough and wise enough
to purify itself from all Joy in these things, and to find it
only in doing the Will of God. It is in this way that the
will is united to God in these supernatural goods.
CHAPTER XXX.
The evils resulting from the Will’s rejoicing in this kind of goods.
Hz who rejoices in Supernatural Goods falls, in my opinion,
into three principal evils. He deceives and is deceived, loses
faith, and becomes vainglorious.
As to the first, it is very easy to deceive oneself and others,
by rejoicing in these supernatural operations. The reason is
that, in order to ascertain whether they are true or false,
how and when they are to be exerted, it requires great deli-
beration and great light from God: now our rejoicing in, and
esteeming, these operations, are a great impediment to this,
partly because the joy in question dulls and obscures the
judgment, and partly also because it makes us not only covet
these operations extremely, but also inclines us to an unsea-
* S. Luke x. 20,
CHAP,
Three evils of
Joy in Super-
natural gifts,
1. Liability
to deception.
BOOK
1.
Errors in the
time or mode
of manifest-
ing Super-
natural gifts,
286 - THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL. |
sonable manifestation of them. Admitting even that these
operations and powers be real, yet these two defects are
enough to delude us: either we do not comprehend them as
they ought to be comprehended, or we do not profit by them
and employ them at the right time and in the right way.
For though it be true that God, when He distributes these
graces, gives also the light to see them, and the inward
movement to manifest them at the right time and in the
right way ; still those who receive them, because of their self-
seeking or some imperfection or other in the matter, may
fall into great errors, by not using their gifts with that per-
fectness which God requires with respect to time and manner.
We have an example in Balaam, who, contrary to the Will of
God, undertook to curse the people of Israel. God was there-
fore angry with him, and sought to kill him.* Again, in
S. James and 8. John, who, carried away by their zeal, would
have fire descend from heaven upon the Samaritans, because
they refused to receive our Lord. For this He rebuked them.t
It is clear from this that imperfect persons, of whom I am
speaking, may be influenced by certain imperfect feelings
involved in the joy and esteem of these gifts, to manifest
them at an improper time. For when they are free from the
like imperfections, they are moved to manifest them only as,
and when, God wills; in no other way is the manifestation of
them convenient. This is the meaning of that complaint
which God makes against certain prophets, saying: ‘I did
not send prophets, yet they ran; I have not spoken to them,
yet they prophesied.’ { And again in the same place: ‘ They
cause my people to err by their lying, and by their wonders ;
when I sent them not, nor commanded them.’ § It is said in
the same place that they prophesied the delusions of their
* Num. xxii. 22, 23, + S. Luke ix. 54,
} Jerem. xxiii. 21. § Tb. 32.
SATAN AS A WORKER OF WONDERS. — 287
own heart, which they would not have done had they not
attached themselves in this abominable way to their gifts,
using them as their own. Pad
All this shows us that the evil of such rejoicing not only
leads men to make an impious and perverse usage of the
gifts of God, like Balaam and those prophets who, by the
wonders which they wrought, deceived the people; but even
to make use of them without having received them from
God, like those who uttered their own fancies for prophecies,
and published visions which themselves invented, or which
the devil represented to them. For when Satan sees men
with such dispositions as these;he opens for them a wide
field, and supplies them with abundant materials, intruding
himself in diverse ways: whereupon such men spread their
sails to the wind, become shamelessly presumptuous, and pro-
digal in the usage of their great gifts.
The evil does not stop here, for joy in supernatural gifts,
and the desire of them, reach so far that, if men have entered
into a secret compact with Satan—it is such a compact that
enables many to do what they are doing—they venture still
further, and enter into an open and avowed compact, making
themselves his disciples and-allies by an express stipulation.
Hence come wizards, enchanters, magicians, soothsayers, and
sorcerers. This joy leads men so far, that they seek to pur-
chase with money, not only these gifts and graces, as did
Simon Magus, that they may serve the devil, but holy things
also, and what I cannot write without trembling, things
Divine. May God here show His great mercy! How hurtful
to themselves, and ruinous to Christendom are such men,
any one may easily perceive. All those magicians and
soothsayers among the people of Israel, whom Saul destroyed
out of the land,* had fallen into these great abominations and
* 1 Kings xxviii. 3,
CHAP.
How men
make a com-
pact with the
devil.
BOOK
TI.
288 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
delusions, because they would imitate the true Prophets of
SPegnee eT OC.
He who is supernaturally endowed ought, therefore, to
cleanse himself from all desire of, and from all Joy in, the
exercise of his supernatural gifts; and God, Who gives them
supernaturally for the edification of the Church, in general,
or of its members, in particular, will also supernaturally direct
him in the use of them, in the right way and at the right
time. As He commanded His disciples to take no thought
beforehand how or what they should speak,* that being a
supernatural act of Faith—-so also is it His Will, the use of
these gifts being of not less importance, that man should bide
His time, because the exercise of these gifts is to depend upon
His Will. Thus the disciples, in whom the gifts and graces
_ were infused, prayed God to put forth His hand, so that the
2. As to
merit,
hearts of the people might bow down before the Faith.
‘Grant unto Thy servants, that with all confidence they may ,
speak Thy Word, by stretching forth Thy hand to cures;
and that signs and wonders may be done by the name of
Thy Holy Son Jesus.’ f
The second evil, loss of Faith, may come from the first, and
; this in two ways. In the first place, it may concern others;
for when a man undertakes to perform a miracle, out of
season, and without necessity—over and above that this is to
tempt God, which is a great sin—he may not succeed, and so
the faith will lose credit and reverence among men. Though
sometimes men may succeed in what they thus attempt,
because God wills it for some reason or other, as in the case
of the Witch of Endor—if it was Samuel himself who then
appeared—they shall not always succeed ; and when they do
succeed, they are not the less in error and blameable, because
they use their gifts inopportunely.
In the second place, the loss of Faith concerns those who
* §. Mark xiii. 11. T Acts iv. 29, 30,
i =a - a, | et ~~
>
; ee . ~
Bs
es!
FAITH MORE BLESSED THAN SIGHT. 289
are endowed with supernatural gifts; in that they destroy the
merits of it. For when men attach so much importance to
miracles, they depart from the substantial exercise of faith,
which is an obscure habit ; and so where signs and miracles
abound, there is the less merit in believing. ‘ Faith has no
merit,’ saith S. Gregory the Great, ‘where human Reason
supplies proof.’ * God works miracles when they are neces-
sary for the Faith, or for other ends of His glory, and of His
Saints. For this reason did God work many signs, before He
showed Himself to His disciples; that they might believe
without seeing, and so not lose the merit of faith in His
resurrection, which they would-have done had they seen
Him first. He showed to Mary Magdalen first the empty
sepulchre, and then the Angels announced His rising again ; f
for ‘Faith cometh by hearing,’ { so that having heard, she
might believe before she saw. And when He showed Him-
self unto her, it was as the gardener,§ that He might thoroughly
" edify her in the faith, which in the warmth of His presence
melted away. He sent the women to tell His disciples that
He had risen; and afterwards they came to see the sepulchre.||
He set on fire the hearts of the disciples on the road to
Emmaus before they knew Him; for He was with them in
disguise. And finally, He rebuked them because they did not
believe those who told them of His resurrection ; { and in par-
ticular, S. Thomas—because he would have palpable proof of
His resurrection—saying ‘ Blessed are they that have not seen,
and have believed.’ ** Miracles are not pleasing unto God,
for He rebuked the Pharisees because they would not believe
without them, saying: ‘Unless you see signs and wonders,
you believe not.’ tf Those, therefore, who will rejoice in
>
* Hom. 26, in Evangel. 7 S. John xx. 2; S. Luke xxiv. 6.
{ Rom. x. 17. § S. John xx. 15.
|| S. Matt. xxviii, 10.; S. John xx. 3. q| S. Luke xxiy.15, 26,
** S. John xx. 29, tt 8. John iy. 48,
VOL, I. U
CHAP.
Xxx.
* Nec fides
habet meri-
tum, cui hu-
mana ratio
rimentum.’
S. Mary
Magdalen,
The two
Disciples
going to
Emmaus.
S. Thomas,
The
Pharisees,
BOOK
Ii.
_ 8. Vain-
glory.
First benefit,
— God glori-
fied.
1. By being
loved more
than His
gifts,
290 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
these supernatural gifts, inflict upon themselves a grievous
loss in the matter of faith.
The third evil is that men, because of their rejoicing in
supernatural gifts, fall into vainglory or some other vanity.
The mere act of rejoicing in them, if not purely in and for
God, is vanity. This is evident from the fact that our Lord
rebuked His disciples, because they rejoiced in that the evil
spirits were subject unto them.* If that joy had not been
vanity, our Lord would never have rebuked them for it.
CHAPTER XXXI.
The benefits of self-denial in the Joy of Supernatural graces.
By denying itself in this joy, the soul gains two great benefits
beside its deliverance from those three evils already described.
It magnifies and exalts God, and it also exalts itself. God is
exalted in two ways. Firstly when the heart and the joy of
the will are withheld from all that is not God, and fixed upon
Him alone. This is the meaning of David when he said:
‘Man shall come to a deep heart, and God shall be exalted ;’+
for if the heart be exalted above all things, the soul will be
exalted also. And because it fixes itself upon God alone, God
is exalted and magnified, making known to the soul His own
Magnificence and Greatness; for He testifieth of Himself,
what He is, in this elevation of the soul above all joy. Now
this cannot be done unless the will is emptied of all joy in ©
supernatural gifts, as it is written, ‘ Be still, and see that lam
God,’ t and again, ‘In a desert land, and where there is no
way, and n® water, so in the sanctuary have I come before
Thee, to see Thy power and glory.’ §
* §. Luke x. 20. + Ps. lxiii. 7, 8.
t Ps. xly. 11. § Ps. lxii. 3.
e+
GLORY OF SELF-DENIAL IN SUPERNATURAL GIFTS. 291
As God, therefore, is exalted, when our joy is grounded on
our detachment from all things, much more is He exalted
when we refrain from joy in His more marvellous works to
_ place itin Him alone; for these graces are of a higher nature
by reason of their supernatural character, and therefore to
detach ourselves from them to rejoice in God alone, is to give
greater honour and glory to God than to them; for the more
numerous and important are the things we disregard for the
sake of another, the more we esteem and magnify him.
Besides, God is exalted in another way when the will refrains
from this joy: for the more we believe in God and serve Him
without regard to signs and wonders, the more is He exalted
in the soul; seeing that our faith in Him is higher than the
teaching of signs and wonders.
The second benefit is the exaltation of the soul itself; for
by withholding the will from rejoicing in signs and wonders,
the soul is exalted in most pure Faith which God infuses into
it and increases most abundantly. He increases also at the
same time the two other theological virtues, Charity and Hope.
Here the soul has the fruition of the highest Divine know-
ledge through the obscure and detached habit of Faith; of
the delights of love through- Charity, whereby the, will
rejoices in nothing but in the living God; and of the satis-
faction of the will through Hope. All this is a wonderful
benefit which essentially and directly tends to the perfect
Union of the soul with God.
CHAPTER XXXII.
The sixth kind of Goods in which the Will rejoices. Their nature.
The first division of them,
Tue chief object of my book being the guiding of the spirit
through these Spiritual Goods to the Divine union of the soul
with God, it will be necessary for me, and for my Reader, now
u2
CHAP.
XXXI.
2. Even when
His gifts are
Super-
natural.
Second
benefit,— the
soul ’
ennobled.
Sixth and
last source of
Joy,—
2. Their
definition.
3. Divided
into
(1) Sweet.
(2) Bitter.
Each kind
divided into
a. Distinct.
8. Obscure.
4, They
pertain to
the Intellect,
Memory, and
Will.
292 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
that I am speaking of these goods which conduce the most
to that end, to bestow particular attention on the matter.
For it is quite certain that there are people who, because of
their want of knowledge, make use of spiritual things in the
order of sense only, leaving the spirit empty; so that there is
scarcely any one, the better part of whose spirit is not cor-
rupted by sensible sweetness, the water being drunk up before
it reaches to the spirit, which is, therefore, left dry and
barren.
With reference then to my subject, I say, that by Spiritual .
Goods I mean all those that move us and help us towards
Divine things, in the intercourse of the soul with God, and
in the communications of God to the soul.
I begin with the generic difference of these goods, namely,
Sweet and Bitter. Each of these is again specifically divided.
The Sweet Goods are of things clear, distinctly understood,
and of things that are not so. The Bitter also are divided
into clear and distinct, and confused and obscure.
These are also distinguished according to the faculties of
the soul. Some, being cognitions, pertain to the Intellect;
some, being affections, pertain to the Will; and others, being
imaginary, pertain to the Memory. For the present I omit
to speak of the bitter goods, because they relate to the Pas-
sive Night, and I shall have to speak of them hereafter. I
omit also the sweet goods of things confused and indistinct
that I may treat of them later; they relate to the general
confused and loving knowledge wherein consists the Union of
the soul with God. I passed it over in the second book,
when I was distinguishing between the apprehensions of the
intellect, reserving it for more careful consideration in the
Book of the Obscure Night. I now proceed to speak of
those Sweet Goods, which are of things clear and distinct.
SPIRITUAL GOODS OF THE SOUL, 293
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Of the Spiritual Goods distinctly cognisable by the Intellect and, the
Memory. The conduct of the Will with respect to Joy in them.
My labour would be great here if I had now to treat of the
manifold apprehensions of the Intellect and the Memory,
teaching how to govern the Will with regard to rejoicing in
them, if I had not already discussed them at considerable
length in the second and in this book. Having there said
how these two faculties are to be directed amid these appre-
hensions to the Divine union, and that the same applies to
the will also, it is not necessary to return to the subject
here, it being sufficient to repeat that as these two faculties
are to be emptied of all such apprehensions, so the will also
is to repress all joy whatever in them.
What I have there said of emptying the Memory and the
Intellect of all these apprehensions is applicable to the Will;
for seeing that the intellect and the other faculties cannot
admit or reject without the intervention of the will, it is clear
that the same principle applies to the one as well as to the
other. Every explanation, therefore, that the subject requires
may be found there, for all the evils and dangers there enu-
merated will befall the soul if it does not refer unto God
all the joy of the will in these apprehensions.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Of the Sweet Spiritual Goods which distinctly affect the Will.
Their diversities,
Everytine that furnishes a distinct J oy to the Will may be
classed under four heads: Motive, Provocative, Directive, and
Perfective. I shall speak of these in order, and first of the
CHAP.
XXXII.
Reformation
of the Will
analogous to
that of the
Intellect and
Memory.
Voluntas
preelucet
Intellectui,
1. Motive
Goods.
2. Provoca-
tive.
3. Directive.
4. Perfective,
BOOK
Iii.
means of
Devotion.
Tmages and
pictures are
>
1. To honour
the Saints.
2. To move
the Will.
They shonld
be of good
workman-
ship, and of a
devotional
c
Should not
be unbe-
comingly
ornamented,
294 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
motive, which are Images, Pictures of Saints, Oratories, and
Ceremonies,
In that which relates to Images and Pictures of Saints much
vanity and empty joy may be found. For while they are of
great importance in Divine service, and very necessary to move
the will to devotion, as is evident from the sanction and use
of them by our Holy Mother the Church—that is a reason
why we should profit by them to quicken us in our sloth—
there are many people who rejoice more in the painting and
decoration of them than in ‘the objects they represent.
The Church ordains the use of images for two principal
ends: that is, for the honour of the Saints, and for the
moving of the will and the quickening of our devotion to
them. And so far as they minister to this end, they are of
great profit, and the use of them is necessary. Those pic-
tures therefore are to be preferred which are most accurately
drawn, and which most effectually excite the will to devo-
tion; we ought to regard this more than the value, curious
workmanship, and decorations. There are people, as I have
said, who look more to the curious nature of the image and
its value than they do to the Saint it represents. They so
squander that inward devotion, which ought to be spiritually
directed to the invisible Saint, in demonstrations of outward
affection and curiosity, that the senses are pleased and
delighted, and love and the joy of the will rest there. All
this is an effectual hindrance to real spirituality, which
requires the annihilation of the affections in all particular
objects.
This is clearly visible in that hateful custom observed
nowadays by certain persons who, not holding in abhorrence
the vanities of the world, adorn the Sacred Images with
those garments which a frivolous race daily invents for
the satisfaction of its wanton recreations and diversions.
They clothe the images with those garments which in them-
ey
i aah Sy aa Se
i See
a,
MOTIVE GOODS AFFECTING THE WILL. 295
selves are reprehensible, and which the Saints have always
held, and still hold, in detestation. It is thus that they
conspire with the devil to procure some sanction for their
vanities, involving the Saints therein, but not without offend-
ing them most deeply. The consequence is that all modest
and sound devotion, which utterly rejects every trace of
vanity, is with such people little more than the elaborate
and superfluous decoration of images and curious pictures,
to which they are attached and on which they base all
their joy. You see people who are never satisfied with
adding image to image, who reject them if they are not
made after a particular pattern, and who must have them
‘arranged in a particular order, so as to please the sense;
meanwhile the devotion of the heart is very slight. They
hold to their images as Michas to his idols, who when he
lost them ran out of his house crying because they had been
taken away;* or like Laban, who made a long journey to
reclaim them, and in his anger searched for them in the
tents of Jacob.f
A devout man grounds his devotion chiefly on the in-
visible; he requires but few images, and uses but few, and
such as are more in harmony with Divine than with human
taste; fashioning them, and himself upon them, according
to the pattern of another world, and the habits of the
Saints, and not of this; so that the fashion of this world
may not only not excite the desire, but not even recur to
the memory, through the sight of anything resembling it or
appertaining unto it. Neither are his affections entangled
by the images he uses, for if they be taken from him, he is
not therefore distressed, because he seeks within himself the
Living Image, which is Christ crucified, in Whom he desires
rather that all things should be taken from him and that
* Judg. xviii. 23, 24, t+ Gen. xxxi. 34,
How frivo-
lity takes the
place of
devotion.
How Images
become Idols,
True
devotion re-
quires few
Images, and
those of a
supernatural
Beauty ;
and seeks in
the heart the
living image
of Christ
Crucified.
BOOK
A ie ie
True Per-
fection,—-
what,
Some images
may be
preferred to
others,—
why.
Folly in
296 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
all things should fail him, even those which seemed most
to draw him to God; and even when they are taken away
from him he is still tranquil. The higher perfection of the soul
consists in being tranquil and joyful amid the privation
rather than the possession with the desire of, and affection
for, these motives. Though it is a good thing to, have
in our possession these Images and means of greater de-
votion — for which reason we should choose always those
which most promote it —yet it is not Perfection to be so
attached to them as to be sorrowful when they are taken
from us. Be assured of this, the more you cling to images
or sensible motives the less will your devotion and prayers
ascend upwards unto God. Though it be true that, because
some images are better representations than others and
more devotional, we may prefer the former to the latter,
still it must be for that reason only, and there must be no
kind of attachment lurking in that preference; lest — that
which tends to raise our minds to God being forgotten —
the means of devotion should become food for sense, immersed
in the joy which springs from them: nor should that which
has been made use of as a help to devotion through any
imperfection become a hindrance, as it sometimes does, even
not less so than an attachment to any other object whatever.
Granting that some excuse for this may be admitted in
the matter of Images, because of our inadequate perception
of that detachment and poverty of spirit which perfection
requires, at least none can be admitted in the case of; that
imperfection so generally practised with regard to Rosaries.
You will scarcely meet with anyone who has not some
weakness in this matter. Men take care that their Rosaries
are of a certain workmanship rather than another, of a
certain colour or material, and with particular ornaments.
One rosary does not contribute more than another towards
the hearing of our prayers: he is heard who tells his beads -
ae
USE AND ABUSE OF IMAGES. ° 297
in the simplicity and integrity of his heart, not thinking of
anything but how he may please God the most; and not
valuing one rosary more than another, except only for the
Indulgences attached to it.
Such is our vain concupiscence, that it clings to every-
thing ; it is like the dry rot consuming the good and the bad
wood. What else is it, when thou pleasest thyself with a
curious rosary, seeking one of a particular make rather than
of another, but to rejoice in the instrument? Why fre-
quentest thou a particular image, not considering whether it
stirs thee up to a greater love of God, but whether it be
more curious or valuable than another? Certainly, if thy
desire and thy joy were in pleasing God only, thou wouldest
not regard anything of this kind. It is very vexatious to see
spiritual persons so attached to the fashion and workmanship
of devotional objects, to what is merely motive, given up to
the curiosity and empty joy which they minister. Such
persons are never satisfied, they are perpetually changing
one thing for another: spiritual devotion is forgotten amid
these sensible means ; men attach themselves to them just as
they do to any worldly ornaments; and the issue is no slight
detriment to their soul.
CHAPTER XXXV.
‘The subject continued. The ignorance of some people in the matter
r of Images.
I wAvE much to say of the ignorance of some people with
regard to Images: so great. is their folly that they have more
confidence in one image than in another, influenced therein
solely by their preference of the one over the other. This
conduct on their part implies great ignorance of the ways of
God, of the service and honour due to Him Who chiefly
CHAP.
XXXIV.
Worldliness
in Prayer.
Worship of
relative.
Dissipation
in pilgrim-
ages.
regards the faith, and interior purity of the suppliant. God
sometimes works more miracles at one image than at another
of the same kind—though there be a great difference in the
workmanship—in order that the devotion of people may be
excited there more than elsewhere. The reason why God
works miracles and grants graces at one image rather than at
another is, that the strangeness of His intervention may stir
up the slumbering devotions and affections of the faithful.
As the sight of the image serves to kindle our devotion, and
perseverance in prayer—both being means to move God to
hear and grant our petitions—so before a particular image,
because of our prayers and devout affections, God continues
to work miracles and to bestow His graces. The faith and
devotion with which the image is regarded passing on to the
Saint whom it represents. .
As to Images then, let us never dwell upon the curious
workmanship they may exhibit, so as to have more confidence
in some than in others on that account, for this would be
great ignorance; let us esteem those the most by which our
devotion is most excited. Thus God, for the greater purifi-
cation of this formal devotion, when He grants graces, and
works miracles, does so, in general, through images not very
well made, nor artistically painted or adorned, so that the — :
faithful may attribute nothing to the work of the artist.
And very often our Lord grants His graces by means of
images in remote and solitary places. In remote places,
that the pilgrimage to them may stir up our devotion, and
make it the more intense. In solitary places, that we may
retire from the noise and concourse of men to pray in soli-
tude, like our Lord himself. He who goes on a pilgrimage,
will do well to do so when others do not, even at an unusual
time. When many people make a pilgrimage, I would
advise staying at home, for in general, men return more
dissipated than they were before. And many become pilgrims
-
>
'
}
er . dia tee re a ae aT ee a ee | ee Od ee ee
are i. : ~ - ; , R= 7
SUPERNATURAL EFFECTS OF IMAGES. 299
for recreation more than for devotion. If faith and devotion
be wanting, the image will not suffice. What a perfect living
image was our Saviour upon éarth; and yet those who had no
faith, though they were constantly about Him and saw His
wonderful works, were not benefited by His presence. This
is the reason why He did no miracles in His own country.*
I wish to mention here certain supernatural effects of
some images on particular persons. God attaches at times
a special influence to certain images, so that the form of
them, and the devotion they excite, remain impressed on the
mind of the beholder as if they were still present before his
eyes. And again, when they are recalled by the memory,
the same influence is excited as at the first time they were
seen, sometimes more vividly, at others less so; other images
even of more perfect workmanship produce no such effects.
Many persons also have a devotion to images of a certain
fashion and not to others. In some, this is nothing more
than mere natural fancy or taste, just as we are pleased with
one man’s looks more than with another’s. They will have
naturally a liking for them, and their imagination recalls
them more vividly, though not so beautiful in themselves as
others, because they are naturally attracted to that particular
form and fashion. Thus, some persons will suppose that the
fancy. they have for a certain image is devotion, while in
reality it is perhaps nothing more than natural taste and
liking.
At other times, it happens that men, while gazing at a
particular image will see it move, change colour, make signs,
or speak. This, and the supernatural effects just spoken of,
are indeed very often real and good effects, the work of God,
either to increase devotion, or to support a soul in its weak-
ness, or to prevent frequent distractions, and also very often
* S. Matt, xiii. 58; 8. Luke iv, 24.
CHAP.
XXXV.
Our Saviour
a Living
Image.
Love of art,
or sense of
the beautiful,
not Devotion.
BOOK
Til.
Satan’s use of
Images,
Caution in
regard to
good things.
300 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
false, the work of the evil spirit to deceive and ruin souls.
I shall give instruction on the whole of this subject in the
next chapter.
-
CHAPTER XXXVI.
How the Joy of the Will in Sacred Images is to be referred to God,
so that there shall be no hindrance in it, or occasions of error.
As Holy Images are very profitable, in that they put us in
mind of God and His Saints, and move the will to devotion
when we use them in the ordinary way, as we ought; so also
are they occasions of great delusions if, when they are the
subjects of supernatural effects, we know not how to conduct
ourselves as we ought to do in our progress onwards towards
God. One of the means by which the devil makes an easy
prey of incautious souls, and impedes their progress in true
spirituality, is the exhibition of strange and unusual things
in connection with images; whether they be those material
images which the Church has sanctioned, or those fantastic
images represented to the mind, of some particular Saints, or
the image of himself transformed into an angel of light,* in
order to delude our souls. The devil, in his cunning, hides
himself within those very means which are given us as a
remedy and support, that he may seize upon us when we are
least upon our guard. Holy souls will therefore be ever
circumspect in regard to good things, for that which is evil
carries its own witness always with it.
I give but one direction, and that is sufficient, for the
avoidance of those evils into which souls may fall with regard
to images, and for the purgation of the will from joy in them,
and for the guidance of the soul to God by means of them,
* 2 Cor. xi, 14,
TRUE DEVOTION SPIRITUAL. 301
which is the object of the Church in the use of images. The
CHAP.
evils to which the soul is liable are either that it is hindered —————
by them in its flight upwards unto God, or that it uses them in
a mean and ignorant way, or that it falls into delusions with
reference to them. Now the direction I wish to give is this:
we should strive, seeing that images are but motives to
invisible things, to move, affect, and gladden the will only in
the living spirit which the image figures. Let the faithful
soul, therefore, take care that, while contemplating an image,
the senses be not absorbed in it, whether that image be
material or in the imagination, of beautiful workmanship or
of rich adornment, and whether the devotion it excites be
spiritual or sensible. Let him not regard these outward
accidents, nor dwell upon them, but venerate the image, as
the Church commands, and lift up his mind at once from the
material image to the living spirit whom it figures, with the
sweetness and joy of the will resting on God, or on the Saint
invoked, devoutly, in mental prayer; so that what is due to
the living and the spiritual may not be wasted on material
and sensible objects. He who shall do this will never be
deluded, and the mind and senses will not be hindered from
advancing onward with great freedom unto God. The image,
too, which supernaturally excited devotion, will do so the
more abundantly when our affections are thus elevated
instantly to God. For whenever He grants us these and
other graces, He does so by inclining the affection and joy of
the will to that which is invisible. It is His Will also that
we should do the same ourselves, by annihilating the powers
and satisfaction of our faculties in all visible and sensible
things.
Direction
how to use
=
as a means,
not as an end.
ATE Rae oe es Se rie ett .
Vanity in the
decoration of
Oratories.
God should
_ have the best.
Ae
302 THE ASCENT OF ‘torn ‘CARMEL.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Motive Goods continued. Oratories and places of prayer.
T rurx I have now sufficiently explained how the spiritual
man, in the matter of Images, may fall into as great imper-
fections— perhaps more dangerous ones—as in the matter of
temporal and bodily goods. I say perhaps more danger-
ous, for in considering, and speaking of, these images as
holy things, men make too sure of themselves, and cease
to be afraid of attachment to them in a mere natural way.
Thus they frequently deceive themselves very much, think-
ing themselves most devout because they delight in holy
things ; and after all, perhaps, this may be nothing more
than natural taste and inclination, which is gratified here
as it might have been by anything else.
The issue is—I am going to speak about Oratories—that
some people are never satisfied in adding image to image in ~
their oratories, taking pleasure in the order and neatness of
their arrangements, to the end that they may be well fur-
nished and beautiful to the eye. God is not their object in
one arrangement more than in another—perhaps less so, for
the delight they experience in these decorations is so much
stolen from the reality. It is very true that all decorations
and all reverence in the matter of images are exceedingly
little in comparison with what they represent—and therefore
those who treat them with no great decency and reverence
are deserving of all blame, as well as those who paint them
so clumsily that they rather quench than kindle devotion;
and I wish the authorities would prohibit such persons from
painting and sculpture because of their gross unskilfulness—
but what has that to do with the attachment which you have
to these decorations and exterior ornaments when they engross
your senses and make heavy your heart, so that you cannot
WORLDLY VANHTY IN THE SANCTUARY. 303
draw near unto God, and love Him, and forget all these
matters for His sake? If you are deficient in this through
carefulness about outward things, not only will He not be
pleased with you, but He will punish you also, because you
have not sought His pleasure, but your own, in all things.
You may see this truth most clearly in that triumphal
procession when our Lord entered into Jerusalem. The
people sung hymns of joy and strewed branches in the way,
but Christ was weeping,* for their hearts were far from Him
while they received Him with outward show of honour.
‘ This people honoureth Me with their lips, but their heart is
far from Me.’t We may say of them, that they formed that
procession in honour of themselves rather than of God. It
is the same with many at this day, for where great Festivals
are being celebrated, men rejoice more in the recreation they
furnish—whether in seeing or being seen, in the banquet or
other worldly comfort—than in rendering true service unto
God.
Such inclinations and intentions are not pleasing unto God.
Much less do they please Him who, when they are making
preparations for a great solemnity, invent ridiculous and
undevout actions to create laughter among the spectators,
that men may be the more distracted; and who make such
arrangements as shall please the multitude instead of such
as shall quicken devotion among them. What shall I say of
those who celebrate great feasts for ends not belonging to
them? of those who make them serve their private interests ?
of those who are more intent on their personal advantage
therein than on the service of God? This they know, and
God also Who sees it; and in whichever way the feast is thus
observed, let them remember, they keep it for themselves and
not for God. What men do to please themselves or others
* S. Matt. xxi, 9; 8S. Luke xix, 41. + S. Matt, xv. 8.
Christ
over Jerusa-
lem,— why.
304 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
. . \ 4
nook God will not account as done for Himself. Yea, many keep
His Feasts with solemnity, and yet He is angry with them
honoured in as He was with the children of Israel, for He slew thousands
ieee of them, when they sung and danced before the golden calf,
thinking they were observing a feast in honour of God; *
or as He was with Nadab and Abiu, the sons of Aaron, whom
He slew with the censers in their hands, because they offered
strange fire upon His altar; t or as with him who sat among
the guests, not having on a wedding garment, and whom
He commanded to be cast, bound hand and foot, ‘ into
the exterior darkness.’ t
Botan at This shows us how intolerable to God must be these irre-
like a gin Yerences in those assemblies which are held in His honour.
.ee- O Lord, my God, how many feasts are kept by the children
of men in which the devil is more honoured than Thou?
Satan rejoices in these assemblies, for he profits by them like
a merchant in aFair. How often hast Thou to say of them:
‘This people honoureth Me with their lips, but their heart is
Chief ground far from Me,’ § because they serve Me in vain? The chief
Sa chat, Ground for the service of God is that He is what He is.
Other and lower considerations ought not to enter into the
question. ,
I return to the subject of Oratories. Some people adorn
them more for their own pleasure than for God’s; some treat
them with so little respect, that they think no more of them
than of their ordinary rooms; and some do not treat them
with so much respect even, for they have more pleasure in
what is profane than in what is Divine. But let me now
leave this, and speak of those who proceed in a more cunning
way—of those people who consider themselves devout. Many
of these take such delight in their oratories and in the adorn-
* Exod. xxxii. 19, 28. t Levit. x. 1, 2,
} S. Matt. xxii. 11-13. § Ib. xv. 8.
a
CHURCHES, ORATORIES, AND PLACES OF PRAYER. 305
ing of them, that they waste in such occupations all the time
which they ought to have spent in prayer and interior recol- —
lection. They do not see that by not disposing themselves
for interior recollection and tranquillity of mind, they are as
much distracted by such occupations as by any other worldly
occupation, and that they are every moment troubled by such
attachment, especially if it be attempted to separate them
from their oratories.
CHAPTER XXXVIIL.
The right use of Churches and Oratories. How the soul is to be
directed through them unto God.
As to the guidance of the soul onwards to God through this
kind of goods, I may observe that it is lawful, and even expe-
dient, for beginners to feel a sensible pleasure in Images,
Oratories, and other visible objects of devotion, because they
are not yet entirely weaned from the world, so as to be able
to leave the latter wholly for the former. They are like
children to whom, when we want to take anything from them
which they hold in one hand, we give something to hold
in the other, that they may not cry, having both hands empty.
The spiritual man, if he is to advance, must deny himself in
CHAP,
XXXVI.
Sensible
Devotion
expedient for
beginners,—
why.
all those tastes and desires in which the will has pleasure, for —
true spirituality has but slight connection with any of these
things, inasmuch as it consists solely in interior recollection
and mental converse with God. For though the spiritual
man makes use of Images and Oratories, yet it is only as it
were in passing. The mind dwells in God, forgetting all
sensible objects. And though it is better to pray where there
is the greatest neatness, nevertheless we should choose that
place where the senses are least likely to be entertained, and
the mind most likely to ascend upwards unto God. On this
VOL. I. x
Neatness in
churches a
reasonable
ground of
preference,
306 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
BOOK subject we must listen to the answer of our Lord to the
Workipor’ Woman of Samaria. She asked Him which was the true place
ositual” ~Of prayer, the mountain or the temple. He replied that true
prayer was not tied to the mountain, but that those who
prayed in spirit and in truth were they who were pleasing to
His Father. ‘The hour cometh, and now is, when the true
adorers shall adore the Father in spirit and in truth. For |
the Father also seeketh such to adore Him. God is a spirit,
and they that adore Him must adore Him in spirit and in
truth.’ *
And though Churches and quiet places are set aside and
prepared for Prayer—a church ought to be used for no other
purpose—nevertheless, in this matter of intimate intercourse
with God, that place ought to be chosen which least occupies
and allures the senses. It must, therefore, not be a place
agreeable and delightful to sense, such as some people search
for, lest instead of serving to recollection of mind, it minister
Prayer best to the recreation and satisfactions of sense. For this end,
een it is well to make choice of a solitary and even wild spot,
so that the mind may ascend firmly and directly to God,
without hindrance or detention on the part of visible things.
Visible things sometimes, it is true, help to elevate the soul,
but it is when they are instantly forgotten, and the spirit
Example of Teposes ON God. For this reason our Saviour, in general,
chose to pray in solitary places, where there were no attractions
for the senses — herein giving us an example — but which
tended to lift up the soul to God, such as mountains, which
are elevated spots, and generally barren, furnishing no re-
sources for sensible recreation.
He, therefore, who is truly spiritual looks only to interior
recollection in oblivion of all things, and for that end chooses
a place that is most free from all visible sweetness and at-
* §, John iy, 23, 24,
- ont
——s
-
re
tractions, withdrawing his thoughts from all that surrounds
him, so that in the absence of created things, he may rejoice
in God alone. It is wonderful how some spiritual persons are
wholly intent on arranging their oratories, and providing
places for prayer suited to their tastes and inclinations, and
making little or nothing of interior recollection, which is the
really important matter. If they attended to this, these
arrangements of theirs would have been to them not pleasure
but mere weariness.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Continuation of the same subject.
Tue reason, then, why some spiritually-minded persons never
enter into the true joys of the spirit, is, that they never wholly
cease to rejoice in outward and visible things. Let such
reflect that if a visible Church and Oratory be a fitting and
appropriate place for prayer, and images motives thereunto,
they must not so use them as to have all their sweetness and
joy in them, and so forget to pray in the living temple, which
is the interior recollection of soul. 8S. Paul, to remind us of
this, says: ‘ Know you not that you are the temple of God,
and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?’* and our Lord:
‘ Lo, the kingdom of God is within you;’f to the same effect
tend the words already cited: ‘They that adore Him must
adore Him in spirit and in truth.’}{ God will make no
account of your oratories, and the places you have so well
prepared, if you attend more to the pleasure which they fur-
nish than you do to interior detachment, which is spiritual
poverty, and which consists in denying yourself in all that
you may possess.
* 1 Cor. iii, 16, _ + 8, Luke xvii, 21. t 8S. John iv, 24,
x2
HUMAN SOUL THE LIVING TEMPLE OF GOD. 807
Inward
devotion
necessary.
BOOK
In.
ett ne
Directions
how to pray.
Evils of
attachment
to sensible
sweetness in
Prayer ;
1. Interior.
2, Exterior.
308 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
You must, therefore, if you would purge the will from joy,
and the vain desire for it, and direct that joy to God in your
prayers, look only to this, that your conscience be pure, your
will wholly with God, and your mind earnestly fixed upon
Him; and that you choose a place for your prayers, the most
solitary and unfrequented possible, and there apply the whole
joy and satisfaction of your will to the calling upon God and
glorifying His name. As to the trifling joys and satisfac-
tions of outward things, regard them not, but labour to deny
yourself in them. For if the soul becomes habituated to the
sweetness of sensible devotion, it will never advance to the
power of spiritual joy which is to be found in spiritual de-
tachment by means of interior recollection.
CHAPTER XL.
Of some evils to which men are liable who indulge in the sensible sweet-
ness which results from objects and places of devotion,
TuE spiritual man is subject to many evils in this matter if
he will walk therein in the way of sensible sweetness. These
evils are Interior as well as Exterior. As to the first: he will
never attain to that interior recollection which consists in
overlooking and forgetting all sensible sweetness, nor will he
acquire substantial self-recollection, and solid virtue. }
As to the second, he unfits himself for praying in all places
alike, and he can only pray in. those which are to his taste.
Thus he will frequently neglect his prayers, because, as they
say, he can pray only out of his own book.
Besides, this affection for particular places is the source of
many inconsistencies; for those who indulge it never con-
tinue in the same place, nor even in the same state of life;
at one time here, at another there; to-day in one cell, to-
morrow in another; they make their arrangements in one
-
EXTERIOR MEANS TO INTERIOR PRAYER. 309
oratory to-day, and the next in another. Of such people are
those whose life is spent in changing their state and manner
of living. As these people are influenced solely by that fer-
vour and sensible sweetness which they find in spiritual
things, and as they never do violence to themselves so as to
become spiritually self-recollected by the denial of their will
and by voluntary endurance of inconveniences; so whenever
they see a place which seems to them better adapted for
devotion, or a state of life better suited to their tastes and
inclinations, they run after it at once, and abandon that
wherein they were before. Being thus under the dominion of
sensible sweetness, they are eager in the search after novelty,
for sensible sweetness is uncertain and rapidly passes away,
CHAPTER XLI.
Of the three kinds of devotional places. How the will is to
regulate itself in the matter.
TueEnReE are three kinds or varieties of places by means of which
God is wont to move the will to devotion. The first is a certain
disposition of the ground—whether on account of the land-
scape, or of groves, or of its loneliness—which naturally tends
to excite devotion. It is profitable to make use of this, pro-
vided the will ascends upwards to God, and the circumstances
of the place be at once forgotten. For in order to secure the
end we must not dwell on the means or the motives longer
than necessary. If we set about to refresh our senses, and
seek for sensible sweetness, what we shall find will be spiritual
dryness and distractions; for true satisfaction and spiritual
sweetness are to be found only in interior recollection,
Therefore, when we are in such a place, we should forget it,
and strive to converse inwardly with God, as if we were not
BOOK
2. From
Association.
310 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
there. If we give way to the sweetness of the spot, search-
- ing for it in every way, that will be a seeking after sensible
refreshment, and instability of purpose rather than spiritual
rest. This was the way of the ancient hermits who in the
wildest deserts chose a small corner for themselves, sufficient
for a most narrow cell, and there they buried themselves. In
such an one remained S. Benedict for three years, and another
_ bound himself with a rope that he might not step beyond its
length. Many others also, too numerous to mention, have
imposed similar restraints upon themselves. Those holy
men well knew that if they did not mortify the appetite for
spiritual sweetness they never would be able to attain to it,
and become spiritual themselves.
The second kind is something special, for there are some
places, no matter whether desert or not, where God is wont
to bestow most sweet spiritual favours on some persons in
particular. In general the hearts of those who have received |
such favours are inclined to that place, and they feel at times
a great and anxious desire to return; though when they do,
they do not find what they found there before; for it is not
in their power. God bestows these favours when, how, and
where He wills; He is not tied to time or place, neither is
He subject to any man’s will.
Nevertheless it is well to return to such a place, provided
all attachment to it be wanting, and to pray there sometimes.
There are three reasons in favour of this. First, it appears
that God, though not bound to place, wills that He should be
glorified there by the object of his favours. The second, by
going there the soul is the more reminded of its duty of
thanksgiving for the graces there received. The third is,
that remembrance of past graces quickens devotion. It is for
these reasons that men ought to revisit such places, and
not because they think that God has obliged Himself to
bestow His favours there in such a way as not to bestow them
—— a
DIVINE CONSECRATION OF PARTICULAR PLACES. 311
elsewhere; for in the eyes of God the human soul is a more
becoming place than any earthly spot.
This principle is found in the Holy Scriptures, for we read
that Abraham built an altar in the place where God appeared
to him, and there called upon His name, and that he visited
the place again on his return from Egypt, and called upon
God again at ‘ the altar which he had made before.’ * Jacob
also consecrated the place where he saw ‘the Lord leaning
upon the ladder’; for he ‘took the stone which he had laid
under his head, and set it up for a title, pouring oil upon the
top of it. Agar, too, in reverence, gave a name to the
place where the Angel appeared to her, saying, ‘ Verily here
have I seen the hinder parts of Him that seeth me.’ }
The third kind are certain special localities which God has
chosen that men may there call upon Him and serve Him.
Such a place was Mount Sinai where He gave His law unto
Moses.§ Such also was that place which He showed unto
Abraham, where the Patriarch was to sacrifice his son.|| And
such too was Mount Horeb, whither He commanded our father
Elias to go, and where He was to show Himself unto him. Of
this kind also is Mount Garganus which S. Michael, appearing
there to the Bishop of Siponto, marked out for the service of
God, saying: ‘ Iam the guardian of this place, let an oratory be
built here in honour of the Angels.’** The most glorious
Virgin by a miraculous sign—snow in summer—chose a site Bo
in Rome for a Church in her honour, which Joannes Patricius
built.{¢ God knoweth why He chose these places for Himself.
All that we need know is that all is for our good, and that
He will hear our prayers there, and wherever else we pray in
perfect faith. Though there is far greater reason why we
* Genes. xii. 8; xiii.4. $ Ib. xxviii. 18, 18, { Genes. xvi. 13.
§ Exod. xxiv. 12. || Genes. xxii. 2, 4] 3 Kings xix. 8.
** Brey. Rom. in Fest. App. 8. Mich. lect. 6.
++ Ib, in Fest. S. Mari ad Nives.
CHAP.
XLI.
Examples of
Abraham,
Jacob, and
Agar.
8. By the
Will of God,
Mt. Sinai.
Mt. Horeb.
Mt. Gar-
ganus,
S. Maria
Maggiore in
me,
All places fit
for the
Prayer of
Faith,
BOOK
Ps ee he ee
312 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
should be heard in these places, dedicated to His service, be-
cause the Church has consecrated them for that special end.
CHAPTER XLII.
Of other motives to Prayer adopted by many; namely, many Ceremonies,
Tue useless joys and the imperfection of attachment, in
which many persons are involved, in the matter of Prayer,
- are perhaps in some degree excusable, because they are
indulged in somewhat innocently. But the great reliance
which some have on a variety of Ceremonies invented by
persons of unenlightened minds, deficient in the simplicity of
faith, is utterly intolerable. I pass by those ceremonies
which comprise certain strange words or phrases signifying
nothing, and other matters, not of a sacred character, which.
an ignorant, rude, and suspicious people intermingle with
their prayers. These are clearly evil and involve sin, and
many of them imply a secret compact with Satan, whereby
men provoke God to anger and not to mercy. I donot mean
to speak of these, but only of those ceremonies, which being
not of this suspicious class, many persons nowadays adopt
in their prayers through an indiscrete devotion. People attri-
bute such efficacy to them; and have such faith in the forms
and ceremonies which they throw round their prayers and
spiritual exercises, that they imagine their prayers are useless,
and unheard by God, if they fail in any one of these singu-
larities, or overstep these arbitrary limitations. They have
much more confidence in these forms than they have in real
earnest prayer; and this is a great dishonour and insult offered
unto God. For instance a Mass must be said with so many
candles, neither more nor fewer ; by such a priest, at such an
hour, neither earlier nor later; on such a day, neither before
SUPERSTITIOUS RITES AND OBSERVANCES. 313
nor after. Prayers must be offered up, or visits made to a
church so often, in such a way, at such a time, with such
ceremonies or gestures, neither earlier nor later, nor in any
other way. The person who is to undertake this must have
such and such qualities. They believe that if any one of these
ceremonies be neglected all is to no purpose. There are a
thousand other absurdities of the same kind.
What is still worse, and not to be borne, is, that some
people will have it that they have felt the effects of this, or
that they have obtained what they asked for, or that they
know they shall obtain it when all these ceremonious
practices have been duly observed. This is nothing less
than to tempt God, and grievously to provoke Him to wrath,
so much so that occasionally the evil spirit is permitted to
deceive such people, and to make them feel or see things
utterly at variance with the welfare of their soul. They
bring this upon themselves by the self-love which they mani-
fest in their prayers, and by their desire to fulfil their own
will rather than the Will of God. Such" persons, because they
do not place their whole trust in God, will never come to any
good.
CHAPTER XLIII.
How the Joy and Strength of the Will is to be directed in these devotions.
Let such people then know that the more they rely on their
ceremonies the less is their confidence in God, and that they
will never obtain their desires. There are some people who
labour more for their own ends than for the glory of God.
Though they know that God will grant their prayer if it be for
His service, and that He will not, if it be not; still, because of
their self-love and the hollow joy which they have in it, they
will multiply their prayers beyond measure. Now if they
CHAP.
XLil.
Prayer must
seek the Will
of God.
BOOK
rf oie
Order in
Prayer.
The Will of
God contains
our Temporal
and Eternal
Happiness.
Examples of
Solomon and
Abraham.
314 “THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
were to attend to something else of more importance, they
would do better: namely, if they set about the purification of
’ their own conscience, and applied themselves to the affair of
their own salvation, omitting all prayers which have not this
for their immediate object.
If they do this, they will obtain that which concerns them
most, and they will obtain beside all else, though they did
not pray for it, in a better and readier way than if they had
directed all their energies to it. We have for this the promise
of our Lord Himself, Who tells us, ‘Seek ye, therefore,
first the kingdom of God and His Justice, and all these
things shall be added unto you.’* Such seeking is most
pleasing unto God, and there is no better way to obtain the
desires of our heart than to pray with all our might for that
which is most pleasing unto God; for then He will grant us,
not only what we pray for, namely, our eternal salvation, but
all that He sees to be expedient and profitable for us, though
we ask it not, according to the words of the Psalmist, ‘ The
Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon Him, to all that
call upon Him in truth.+ They call upon Him in truth
who pray for that which is most true, namely, their salvation,
as the Psalmist adds, in the same place, ‘ He will do the will
of them that fear Him, and He will hear their prayer and
save them. The Lord keepeth all them that love Him.’
To be ‘nigh’ unto men is to satisfy them, and to give them
what never entered even into their thoughts to ask for.
We have an illustration of this in the history of Solomon.
He asked of God wisdom to govern the people—a prayer that
was acceptable unto Him—and the answer of God was:
‘ Because this choice hath pleased thy heart, and thou hast
not asked riches and wealth and glory, nor the lives of them
that hate thee, nor many days of life; but hast asked wisdom
* §, Matth. vi. 33. + Ps. exliy, 18, 19, 20.
——
a
FIAT VOLUNTAS TUA. 315
and knowledge to be able to judge My people, over which I
have made thee king: wisdom and knowledge are granted to
thee ; and I will give thee riches and wealth and glory, so
that none of the kings before thee, nor after thee, shall be
like thee.’* God kept His promise, and made his enemies
live in peace, and pay him tribute. God also, when He
promised Abraham to multiply the posterity of his lawful son
as the stars of heaven, added: ‘I will make the son also of
the bondwoman a great nation, because he is thy seed.’ f
The powers of the will, therefore, and the joy it has in
prayers, are to be referred to God: without leaning upon
ceremonies and private observances which the Catholic
Church neither adopts nor sanctions; we must resign to the -
priest the celebration of Mass, he stands in her place, and
has received from her the order of its celebration. Men
must not seek out new inventions, as if they knew more than
the Holy Ghost and the Church. If they are not heard when
they pray in the simplicity of the Church, let them be sure
of this—God will not hear them for their own inventions,
however numerous they may be.
As to vocal prayer and other devotions, let no man rely
on ceremonies and forms of prayer other than those which
Christ and His Church have taught us. It is quite clear
that, when His disciples said unto Him, ‘ Teach us to pray,’ t
- He told them all they were to do in order to be heard of
the Eternal Father. He knew His will. He then taught
them only the seven petitions of the Pater Noster, which in-
clude all our wants, spiritual and temporal. He did not teach
them many, and other forms of words and ceremonies. He
had. before told them not to use many words when they
prayed, saying, ‘When you are praying, speak not much...
for your Father knoweth what is needful for you.’§ Only
* 2 Paral. i. 11, 12. + Genes. xxi. 13.
t S. Luke xi. 1. § S, Matth. vi. 7, 8.
CHAP.
XLIi.
The Church
our Guide in
Ceremonies,
The Lord’s
Prayer is
enough,
BOOK
Tit.
The Prayer
. inthe
Garden of
Gethsemani.
Two places of
Retirement.
All hours
suitable for
devotions,
The Pater
Noster com-
prehends all
prayers,
316 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
He charged them with great earnestness to persevere in
prayer—that is, the Pater Noster—saying, ‘that we ought
always to pray, and not to faint.’* He did not teach us a
variety of prayers, but to repeat often, with care and fervour,
these petitions—for they contain the whole Will of God and
all our wants also. He Himself, when He fell on His face in
the garden and prayed three times to the Eternal Father,
thrice repeated the self-same words of the Pater Noster,
saying, ‘My Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass
from Me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt ;’f—
that is, Father, if I must drink this chalice, Thy Will be done.
The rites and ceremonies which He taught us to observe
in our prayers are reduced to one of two; either to retire
into our chamber, where, away from the tumult and presence
of men, we may pray with most pure and perfect heart—
‘When thou shalt pray, enter into thy chamber, and having
shut the door, pray to thy Father in secret ;’{ or to withdraw
into the lonely wilderness, as He did, in the better and more
tranquil hours of the night.
There is thus no necessity for determined seasons, nor for
appointed days, nor for strange methods, nor for words of
double meanings, nor for other prayers than those which the
Church employs, and in the sense in which she employs
them ; for all prayers are comprehended in the Pater Noster.
I am not, by this, condemning, but rather approving, those
fixed days which some persons occasionally set apart for their
devotions, such as Novenas, and the like: what I condemn
is the reliance which men have on the ceremonies and self-
devised observances with which they keep them. This is
what Judith also did when she rebuked the people of
Bethulia, because they had fixed a time within which God
was to have mercy upon them. ‘ Who are ye,’ said the
* 8. Luke xviii. 1. + S. Matth. xxvi, 39, } S. Matth. vi. 6.
| —*
————————e rt lll
PROVOCATIVE GOODS MOVING THE WILL. 317
Prophetess, ‘that tempt the Lord? This is not a*word that
may draw down mercy, but rather that may stir up wrath
and enkindle indignation.’ *
CHAPTER XLIV.
Of the second kind of Distinct Goods in which the Will vainly rejoices.
Tue second kind of Distinct Sweet Goods in which the will
vainly rejoices, is that which provokes or persuades us to
serve God, This I have called Provocative. In this class
of goods are Preachers who may be considered in two points
of view: one, concerning themselves, the other, those who
hear them. Both in preaching and in hearing, all require
to be reminded ‘that the joy of the will must be directed
unto God.
As to the preacher, he must bear in mind—if he is to profit
his hearers, and not to be puffed up with empty joy and pre-
sumption—that his function is more spiritual than vocal : for
though it depends on audible words, its power and efficacy is
not in the words, but in the spirit which utters them. How-
ever high the doctrine he preaches, however adorned his
eloquence and sublime his style, the fruits of his sermons
will in general be no better than his own spirit. For though
it be true that the word of God is effectual in itself, as it is
written, ‘ He will give to His voice the voice of power,’ f yet
fire, which has the power of burning, will not burn without
adequate fuel. Preaching depends for its effects on two
conditions: one on the part of the preacher, the other on
the part of the hearer: but in general the fruitfulness of
preaching is in proportion with the dispositions of the
preacher. Hence the proverb; Such the master, such the dis-
* Judith viii. 11, 12. + Ps, Ixvii. 34.
CHAP,
XLII.
Provocative.
Advice to
Preachers
and Hearers,
Preaching
more
spiritual
than vocal.
A good life
the best
sermon.
318 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL.
ciple. Wen the seven sons of Sceva, a chief priest of the
Jews, attempted to cast out devils like 8. Paul, the evil spirit
turned upon them in a fury, saying, ‘Jesus I know, and
. Paul I know, but who are you?’* and drove them out of the -
house naked and wounded. This befell them because of
their improper dispositions, and not because Christ would
not that they should invoke His name; for when the disciples
forbade him to cast out devils in His name, who was not
a disciple, He rebuked them, saying, ‘Do not forbid him:
for there is no man that doth a miracle in My name, and
can soon speak ill of Me.’f But He is angry with those
who teach His law and keep it not, and who not -being
spiritual themselves, preach spirituality to others. ‘Thou,
therefore,’ saith the Apostle, ‘that teachest another, teachest
not thyself; thou that teachest that men should not steal,
stealest.’t And the Psalmist saith, ‘To the sinner God hath
said, Why dost thou declare My justice, and take My cove-
nant in thy mouth, seeing thou hast hated discipline and
cast My words behind thee?’ § ‘Such persons have not that
spirit which is fruitful in good.
It is generally observed, so far as we can judge, that the
better the life of the preacher, the greater the fruit, though
his style may be homely, his eloquence scanty, and his subject
common, for warmth proceeds from the living spirit within.
Another kind of preacher will produce scarcely any fruit at
all, notwithstanding his fine style and his subject. For though
it is true that a good style and action, high doctrines, and
correct expression have a greater effect when they accompany
true spirituality; still when that is wanting, though the senses
be charmed, and the intellect delighted, but little or no sub-
stantial warmth reaches to the will. The will remains dull,
* Acts xix, 15, + S. Mark ix. 38.
t Rom. ii, 21, § Psalm xlix. 16, 17.
DUTIES OF PREACHERS AND HEARERS. 319
and weak as before in good works, though marvellous things
have been marvellously told it, but which serve only to please
the ear, like a concert of music or the sound of bells. But
_ the spirit does not go beyond its limits, and the voice
has no power to raise the dead from the grave. Of what
use is it to me to listen to one kind of music which pleases
me more than another, if it does not move me to act?
Though men may be wonderful preachers, yet their sermons
are soon forgotten, when they kindled no fire in the will.
This sensible delectation in sermons is not only almost
fruitless in itself, but it also keeps back the hearer from
true spirituality; for he goes no- deeper into the matter
than the outward circumstances of the sermon, and praises
the preacher for this and that peculiarity, running after him
for such reasons rather than for any edification he derives
from him. S. Paul sets this before us very clearly, saying:
‘And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not in loftiness
of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of
Christ . . . my speech and my preaching was not in the
persuasive words of human wisdom, but in showing of the
spirit and of power.’*
It was not the intention of the Apostle, neither is it mine,
to find fault with a good style, correct diction, and eloquence.
These things are valuable to a preacher, as they are in all
kinds of affairs ; for as a noble expression elevates and restores
what is fallen low, so, on the other hand, a mean style ruins
even what is noble.
* 1 Cor, ii. 1, 4,
CHAP.
XLIV.
End of
preaching
not merely
to please the
ear, taste, or
intellect—
but to move
the will,
Value of a
good style.
er
b arent FE
THE
OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
ARGUMENT.
I BeGin this book with the stanzas which I have undertaken
to explain. I shall then explain them line byline. The first
and second stanzas describe the effects of the spiritual purga-
tions of our sensitive and spiritual nature. The rest, six in
number, describe the various and wonderful effects of spiritual
illumination, and union with God in love.
STANZAS. Song of the
I soul in the
Divine Union
In an Obscure Night, “en
With anxious love inflamed,
O, happy lot!
Forth unobserved I went,
My house being now at rest.
II
In darkness and obscurity,
By the secret ladder, disguised,
O, happy lot!
In darkness and concealment,
My house being now at rest.
il
In that happy night,
In secret, seen of none,
And seeing nought myself,
Without other light or guide
Save that which in my heart was burning.
¥2
324 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
STANZAS. : IV
That light guided me
More surely than the noonday sun
To the place where He was waiting for me,
Whom I knew well,
And where none but He appeared.
Vv
O, guiding night ;
O, night more lovely than the dawn ;
O, night that hast united
The Lover with His beloved,
And changed her into her Love.
VI
On my flowery bosom,
Kept whole for Him alone,
He reposed and slept;
I cherished Him, and the waving
Of the cedars fanned Him.
Vil
Then His hair floated in the breeze
That blew from the turret ;
He struck me on the neck
With His gentle hand,
And all sensation left me.
Vill e
I continued in oblivion lost,
My head was resting on my Love;
I fainted away, abandoned,
And, amid the lilies forgotten,
Threw all my cares away.
OBJECT OF THE PRECEDING STANZAS.
Before entering on the explanation of these stanzas I must
premise that they are the song of the soul-in the State of
Perfection, in union with God by love; after’passing through
a ————$-.. -,
A HEAVY CROSS AND A BRIGHT CROWN. 325,
those deep tribulations and distresses, in the spiritual exercise
of the strait way of eternal life. This is the way, as our
Saviour saith in the Gospel, by which the soul must ordinarily
travel to the high and Divine union with God. ‘ How narrow
is the gate and strait is the way that leadeth to life, and few
there are that find it.’* This road being so strait, and they
who find it being so few, the soul exults in having traversed it
to the perfection of love. This is the substance of the first
stanza. The strait way is with great propriety called the
Obscure Night, as it appears from the following stanzas. The
soul, then, having travelled on this strait road, where so
many blessings have come upon it, thus rejoiceth,
*S. Matth. vii. 14.
326 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK I.
OF THE NIGHT OF SENSE.
In an Obscure Night,
With anxious love inflamed,
O, happy lot!
Forth unobserved I went,
My house being now at rest.
EXPLANATION.
BOOK Here the soul describes the way and manner of its depar-
eee ture, as to all selfish and other affections, dying thereto and
Night. to itself by real mortification, so that it may come to the sweet
1. Itsdefni- and pleasing life of love in God. It went forth, from itself
Boe and from all things, in an Obscure Night, by which is meant
purgative contemplation—as I shall hereafter explain—which
2. Meansot leads the soul to deny itself and all besides. This departure
‘sich of the soul was effected in the strength and fervour of love
with which the Bridegroom inspired it in the obscure con-
8. Joyin _ templation for that end. The soul magnifies its own happi-
having passed + - : ; .
through it. ness in having journeyed Godwards in that night so success-
fully as to escape all hindrance on the part of its three
enemies —the World, the Devil, and the Flesh—which are
always found infesting this road; for the night of purgative
contemplation had lulled to sleep and mortified, in the house
of sensuality, all passions and desires, in their rebellious
motions,
a ie a
~« ill Bere.
OE i ed
a ee ye
a
IMPERFECTIONS OF BEGINNERS. 327
CHAPTER I.
Of the Imperfections of Beginners.
In an Obseure Night.
OULS enter this Obscure Night when God is drawing them
J out of the state of Beginners, which is that of those who
meditate in the spiritual way, and is leading them into that
of Proficients, the state of Contemplatives, that, having passed
through it, they may arrive at the state of the Perfect, which
is that of the Divine union with God. That we may the
better.understand the nature of this night through which the
soul has to pass, and why God leads men into it, it is ne-
cessary to touch upon certain characteristics of beginners,
that they may perceive the weakness of their state, take
courage, and desire to be led of God into this night, where
the soul is established in virtue and prepared for the in-
estimable delights of His love. Though I shall dwell at
some length upon this pointy I shall do so no longer than
suffices for the immediate discussion of the Obscure Night.
We are to keep in mind that a soul, when seriously con-
verted to the service of God, is, in general, spiritually nursed
and caressed, as an infant by its loving mother, who warms
it in her bosom, nourishes it with her own sweet milk, feeds
it with tender and delicate food, carries it in her arms, and
fondles it. But as the child grows up the mother withholds
her caresses, hides her breasts, and anoints them with the
juice of bitter aloes; she carries the infant in her arms no
longer, but makes it walk on the ground, so that, losing
the habits of an infant, it may apply itself to greater and
more substantial pursuits.
The Grace of God,* like a loving mother, as soon as the
* Wisd. xvi. 25.
CHAP,
Re
Three states ;
1. Of Begin-
ners.
2. Of Pro-
ficients.
3. Of the
Perfect.
BOOK
I.
Selfish spi-
rituality of
Beginners.
Work propor-
tioned to
habit.
TImperfec-
tions in the
matter of the
seven capital
sins,
328 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
soul is regenerated in the new fire and fervour of His service,
treats it in the same way; for it is then furnished, without
labour on its own part, with spiritual milk, sweet and de-
licious, in the things of God, and in devotional exercises with
great delight; God giving to it the breasts of His own tender
love, as a mother to her babe. Such souls, therefore, delight
to spend many hours, and perhaps whole nights, in prayer;
their pleasures are penances, their joy is fasting, and their
consolations are the use of the Sacraments and the frequenta-
tion of Divine Offices. «©
Now spiritual men generally, speaking spiritually, are ex-
tremely weak and imperfect here, though they apply them-
selves to devotion, and practise it with great resolution,
earnestness, and care. For being drawn to these things and
to their spiritual exercises by the comfort and satisfaction
they find therein, and not yet being confirmed in virtue by the
struggle it demands, they fall into many errors and imper-
fections in their spiritual life; for every man’s work cor-
- responds to the habit of perfection which he has acquired.
These souls, therefore, not having had time to acquire those
habits of vigour, must, of necessity, perform their acts, like
children, weakly.
To make this more evident, and to show how weak are
beginners in virtue, in those good works which they perform
with so much ease and pleasure, I proceed to explain with
reference to the seven capital sins, pointing out some of the
imperfections into which beginners fall in the matter of each
of them. This will show us plainly how like children they
are, and also how great are the blessings of this Obscure
Night of which I am about to speak; seeing that it cleanses
and purifies the soul from all these imperfections.
PRIDE IN SPIRITUAL THINGS. ~ 329°
CHAPTER II.
Of some imperfections to which beginners are liable in the matter of
Pride.
Wuen beginners become aware of their own fervour and
diligence in their spiritual works and devotional exercises,
this prosperity of theirs gives rise to secret Pride — though
holy things tend of their own nature to Humility — because
of their imperfections; and the issue is that they conceive a
certain satisfaction in the contemplation of their works and
of themselves. From the same source, too, proceeds that
empty eagerness which they display, in speaking before
others of the spiritual life, and sometimes to teach it, instead
of learning it. They condemn others in their minds
when they see that they are not devout in their own way.
Sometimes also they give expression in words to that feeling,
showing themselves herein to be like the Pharisee, who in
the act of prayer boasted of his own good works and despised
the Publican.*
This fervour, and the desire to do such and other like
acts, is frequently fed by Satan in order that men of this
kind may grow in pride and presumption: he knows perfectly
well that all the virtuous works of people in this state are
not only nothing worth, but rather tending to sin. Some of
them go so far as to think none good but themselves, and so
both in word and act fall into condemnation and detraction
of others. They see the mote in the eye of their brother,
but not the beam which is in their own.f They strain out the
gnat in another man’s cup, and swallow the camel in their
own. t
Sometimes, also, when their spiritual masters, such as
* S. Luke xviii. 11, 12. + S. Matth, vii. 3. t Ib. xxiii. 24,
CHAP,
IT.
First Imper-
fection,—
Spiritual
Pride.
BOOK
I.
Devices of
self-love.
1. Seeking
praise.
2. External
signs of de-
votion.
8. Artful
Confessions.
330 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
confessors and superiors, do not approve of their spirit and
conduct — for they wish to be praised and considered for
what they do—they decide that they are not understood, and
that their superiors are not spiritual men because they do
not approve and sanction their proceedings. So they go
about in quest of some one else, who will accommodate
himself to their fancy; for in general they love to discuss
their spirit with those who, they think, will commend and
extol their state. They avoid, as they would death, those
who depreciate their feelings with the view of leading them
into a safe way, and sometimes they even hate them. Pre-
suming greatly on themselves, they make many resolutions,
and accomplish little. They are occasionally desirous that
others should perceive their spirituality and devotion, and
for that end they make many exterior movements, give vent
to sighs and practise divers ceremonies; and sometimes, too,
they fall into a kind of rapture in public rather than in
private—whereunto Satan contributes—and they are pleased
when others witness it.
Many of them seek to be the favourites of their confessors,
and the result is endless envy and disquietude. They are
ashamed to confess their sins plainly, lest their confessors
should think less of them, so they go about palliating them,
that they may not seem so bad: which is excusing rather
than accusing themselves. _ Sometimes they go to a stranger
to confess their sin, that their usual confessor may not sup-
pose they are sinners, but good people. And so they always
take pleasure in telling him of their goodness, and that in
terms suggestive of more than is in them: at the least, they
wish all their goodness to be appreciated, when it would be
greater humility on their part, as I shall presently show, to
undervalue what is their own, and to be anxious that neither
their confessor nor anyone else should think them of the least
importance.
aa Se es
oe
PROUD AND HUMBLE BEGINNERS. 331
Some beginners, too, make very light of their faults occa-
sionally, and at other times indulge in immoderate grief when
they commit them. They thought themselves already saints, 3%
and so they become angry and impatient with themselves,
which is another great imperfection. They also importune
God to deliver them from their faults and imperfections, but
it is for the comfort of living in peace, and not for God;
they do not consider that, were He to deliver them, they
would become, perhaps, prouder than ever. They are great
enemies of other men’s praise, but great lovers of their own,
and sometimes they seek it. In this respect they resemble
the foolish Virgins, who, with untrimmed lamps, went about
in search of oil, saying: ‘ Give us your oil, for our lamps are
gone out.’*
Some, too, fall deeply into these imperfections, and into
great evils by reason of them. Some, however, fall into them
less than others, and some have to contend with little more than
the first motions of them. But scarcely anyone can be found
who, in his first fervours, did not fall into some of them.
But those who at this time are going on to Perfection pro-
ceed in a very different way, and in a very different temper
of mind: they grow and edify themselves in humility,
not only looking on their own works as nothing, but also
dissatisfied with themselves: they look upon all others as
much better than themselves, they regard them with a holy
envy in their anxiety to serve God as well as they do. For
the greater their fervour, the more numerous their good works ;
and the keener the pleasure therein, the more they perceive
—for they humble themselves—how much is that which God
deserves at their hands, and how little is all they can do for
Him: thus the more they do, the less are they satisfied. So
great is what they in their love would fain do, that all they
* S. Matt. xxv. 8.
Conduct of
the humble
er.
332 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
are doing seems nothing. This loving anxiety so importunes
and occupies them that they never consider whether others are
doing good or not, and if they themselves should ever do good,
it is in the conviction that all others are much better than
themselves. They think slightingly of themselves, and wish
others to do so also, to make no account of them, and to
despise what belongs to them; and, moreover, if anyone
should praise and respect them they will give them no credit,
for they think it strange that anybody should speak well
of them.
Persons of this kind, in great tranquillity and humility,
are very desirous to learn the things that are profitable to
them from anyone, be he who he may—in this respect the
very opposite of those of whom I have just spoken, who are
willing to teach everybody; and who, when anyone seems
about to teach them anything, take the words out of his
mouth, as if they knew it already.
But these of whom I am now speaking are very far from
wishing to instruct anyone ; they are most ready to travel by
another road if they be but commanded, for they never ima-
gine that they can be right in anything. When others are
praised they rejoice, and their only regret is that they do not
serve God themselves as well as they. They are not anxious
to speak about their own state, because they think so lightly
of it that they are, as it were, ashamed to speak of it to their
confessors, for it seems to them unworthy of any mention
whatever. But they have a great desire to speak of their
shortcomings and sins, or of what they consider not to be
virtues: thus they incline to treat of the affairs of their soul
with those who have no great opinion of their state and
spirit. This is a characteristic of that spirituality which is
pure, simple, true, and most pleasing unto God. For as the
Spirit of the Divine Wisdom dwells in these humble souls, He
moves and inclines them to keep his treasures secretly within,
and to cast out the evil. God gives this grace together
a.
he Pee 3s
IMPERFECTION OF SPIRITUAL AVARICE. 333
with other virtues to the humble, and withholds it from the
proud. , :
Persons of this kind will give their hearts’ blood for him who
serves God, and will aid him to the utmost of their powers.
When they commit any imperfection they bear up under it
with humility, in gentleness of spirit, in loving fear of God,
and hoping in Him. But the souls who in the beginning
travel thus towards Perfection are few, yea, very few, and
we ought to be content when they do not rush into the oppo-
site evils. This is the reason, as I shall hereafter explain,
why God leads into the Obscure Night those souls whom He
will purify from all these imperfections in order to their
further advancement.
CHAPTER III.
Of the imperfections of Avarice, in the spiritual sense.
Many a beginner also falls at times into great’ spiritual
Avarice. Scarcely anyone is contented with that measure of
the Spirit which God gives; they are disconsolate and
querulous because they do not find the comfort they expected
in spiritual things. Many are never satisfied with listening
to spiritual counsels and precepts, with reading books which
treat of their state; and they spend more time in this than
in doing their duty, having no regard to that mortification,
and perfection of interior spiritual poverty, to which they
ought to apply themselves. Besides, they load themselves
with images, rosaries, and crucifixes, curious and costly ; now
taking up one, then another, now changing them, and then
resuming them again. At one time they will have them of a
certain fashion, at another time of another, prizing one more
than another because more curious or costly. Some may be
seen with an Agnus Dei, and with relics and medals, like
children with coral.
CHAP,
Il.
BOOK
i
Real devotion
. must spring
from the
heart.
Two exam-
ples of the
spirit of
Poverty.
The humble
man begins
with Gene-
rosity.
Real Perfec-
tion,—what.
334 “THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
I condemn here that attachment and clinging of the heart
to the form, number, and curiosity of these things} because
in direct opposition to poverty of spirit, which looks only to
the substance of devotion; which makes use indeed of these
things, but only sufficiently for the end, and disdains that
variety and curiosity in them; for real devotion must spring
out of the heart, and consider only the truth and substance
which the objects in question represent. All beyond this is
attachment and imperfection ; and the soul, if it is to go on
unto Perfection, must root out that feeling utterly.
I knew a person who for more than ten years used con-
tinually, without interruption, a cross rudely formed of a
piece of blessed palm, and fastened together by a common pin
bent backwards, until I took it away. This was a person not
deficient in sense and intellect. I knew another who had a
rosary made of the backbones of fish, and whose devotion, I am
certain, was not on that account of less value in the eyes of
God; for it is quite clear that the cost or workmanship of
these contributed nothing to it.
Those beginners, therefore, who go on well, do not rely on
visible instruments, neither do they burden themselves with
them, neither do they seek to know more than is necessary
for them, so that they may act rightly, for their sole object is
to be well with God and to please Him ; their avarice consists
in that. With a noble generosity they give away their pos- —
sessions ; and their delight is to learn how to want all things
for the love of God and their neighbour, disposing of every-
thing according to the laws of this virtue; because, as I have
said, the sole object they have in view is real Perfection, to
please God in all things and themselves in nothing.
The soul, however, cannot be perfectly purified from.these
imperfections, any more than from the others, until God shall
have led it into the passive purgation of this Obscure Night.
But it is expedient that the soul, so far as it can, should
SPIRITUAL LUXURY. 335
labour, on its own part, to purify and perfect itself, that it
may merit from God to be taken under His Divine care, and
be healed from those imperfections which of itself it cannot
remedy. For, after all the efforts of the soul, it cannot by
any exertions of its own actively purify itself so as to be in
the slightest degree qualified for the Divine union of perfec-
tion in the love of God, if God Himself does not take it into
His own hands and purify it in the obscure fire, as lam going
to explain.
CHAPTER IV.
Of the imperfection of Luxury, spiritually understood.
Many beginners fall into other imperfections, over and above
those in connection with the capital sins. I pass them over
now, to avoid prolixity, touching on some of the principal
ones, which are as it were the source and origin of the rest.
As to the sin of Luxury, passing over what it is to commit
it—my object being to speak of those imperfections which
have to be purged away in the Obscure Night—beginners fall
into many imperfections, which may be called Spiritual
Luxury; not that it is so in fact, but because it is felt and
experienced sometimes in the flesh, owing to frailty, when the
soul is the recipient of spiritual communications. For very
often, in the midst of their spiritual exercises, and when they
cannot help themselves, the impure motions of sensuality are
felt; and sometimes even when they are deeply absorbed in
prayer, or engaged in receiving the Sacraments of Penance
and the Eucharist. These motions not being in their power,
proceed from one of three sources.
They proceed occasionally—though but rarely, and in
persons of delicate constitutions— from sensible sweetness
in spiritual things. For when sense and spirit are both
God alonecan
make Saints,
336 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK delighted together, the whole nature of man is moved in that
er delectation according to its measure and character. The
ape tag mind is moved to delight itself in God—that is the higher
part of our nature; and sensuality, which is the lower part,
is moved towards sensible gratification, because it knows, and
admits of, none other. And so it happens that the soul, while
in spirit it is praying, is in the senses troubled, to its
great disgust, with the rebellious movements of the flesh pas-
sively. As these two parts, the higher and the lower, form
but one subject, man, they mutually participate in their
respective passions, each in its own way; for, as the Philoso-
pher tells us, all that is received is received according to the
capacity of the recipient. And so in these beginnings, and
even when the soul has made some progress, the sensitive part,
being still imperfect, when spiritual delight flows into the
soul, mingles occasionally of its own therewith. But when the
sensitive is already cleansed in the purgation of the Obscure
Night, it is no more subject to these infirmities, because it
receives so abundantly of the Spirit of God, that it seems
rather to be received into that Spirit itself, as into that which
is greater and grander. Thus it possesses everything in the
way of the Spirit, in an admirable manner of which it partakes,
united with God.
re, The second source of these rebellious motions is the Evil
Devil Spirit, who, in order to disquiet the soul during prayer, or
when it is preparing for it, causes these filthy movements of our
lower nature, and these, when in any degree admitted, are
injury enough. Some persons not only relax in their prayers
through fear of these movements, which is the object of Satan
when he undertakes to assail them, but even neglect them alto-
gether, for they imagine that they are more liable to these
assaults during prayer than at other times. This is certainly
true; for he then assails them more than at other times, in
order to lead them to intermit their prayers, This is not all;
PARTICULAR SPIRITUAL FRIENDSHIPS. 337
for he represents to them then, most vividly, the very filthiest
images, and occasionally in close relations with certain
spititual things and persons, the thought whereof is profit-
able to the soul, that he may terrify and crush them. Some
are so grievously assailed that they dare not dwell upon any-
thing, for it becomes at once a stumbling-block to them,
especially those who are of a melancholy temperament; these
are so afflicted as to be objects of the deepest pity. When
melancholy is the occasion of these visitations of Satan, men
in general cannot be delivered from them till their bodily
health is improved, unless they shall: have entered on the
Obscure Night which purifies them wholly.
The third source of these depraved movements which war
against the soul is usually the fear of them which men have
conceived beforehand. This fear, which a sudden remem-
brance occasions, in what they see, speak, or think of, makes
them suffer these trials without fault on their part.
Sometimes, when spiritual persons are speaking of spiritual
things, or doing good works, they become conscious of a
certain energy and elasticity arising out of the recollection of
persons whom they have seen, and they go on with a certain
measure of vain joy. This also proceeds from spiritual
luxury in the sense I speak of, and is accompanied at times
by a certain complacency of the will.
Some, too, form spiritual friendships with others, the
source of which is this luxury, and not spirituality. We may
know it to be so by observing whether the remembrance of
that affection increases our recollection and love of God, or
remorse of conscience. When this affection is purely spiritual,
the love of God increases with it, and the more we think
of it the more we think of God, and the greater our longing
for Him; for the one grows with the other. The spirit of
God has this property, that it increases good by good, because
there is a resemblance and harmony between them. But
VoL. I. Z
source
Fear.
BOOK
a.
huma and
Divine Love.
In the
Obscure
Night the
affections
are ruled by
Reason.
338 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
when this affection springs out of mere sensuality, its effects
are quite opposite; for the more it grows, the more is the
love of God diminished, and the remembrance of Him also;
for if this earthly love increases, that of God cools down, and
men forget Him by reason of that affection of sense, and
remorse of conscience is the result.
On the other hand, if the love of God increases, the human
love decreases, and is forgotten; for as they are contrary the
one to the other, not only do they not help each other, but
the one which predominates suppresses the other, and
strengthens itself as Philosophers explain it. And so our
Saviour tells us in the Gospel, saying, ‘that which is born of
the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is
spirit ;’* that love which grows out of sensuality ends in the
same, and that which is spiritual ends in the Spirit of God,
and increases it in the soul. This is the difference between
these two affections, whereby we may distinguish between
them. When the soul enters into the Obscure Night, these
affections are ruled by Reason; that night strengthens and
purifies the affection which is according to God, and removes,
destroys, or mortifies the other. In the beginning both are
lost sight of, as I shall explain hereafter.
CHAPTER V.
Of the imperfections of Anger.
Many beginners, because of their inordinate appetite for
spiritual sweetness, generally commit many imperfections in
the matter of Anger; for when spiritual things minister to
them no more sweetness and delight, they naturally become
peevish, and in that bitterness of spirit prove a burden to
themselves in all they do: trifles make them angry, and
* S. John iii. 6,
ANGER AND SPIRITUAL GLUTTONY. 339
they are at times intolerable to all about them. This happens
to them generally after great sweetness in prayer; and so,
when that sensible sweetness is past and gone, their natural
temper is soured and rendered morose. They are like a babe
weaned from the breast, which he found so sweet. When this
natural feeling of displeasure is not permitted to grow, there
is no sin, but only imperfection, which will have to be purged
away in the hardship and aridities of the Obscure Night.
There are spiritual persons, too, who fall into another kind
of anger. They are angry with other people’s faults, with a
sort of unquiet zeal for censure; they are occasionally moved
to blame them, and even do so with anger, constituting them-
selves guardians of virtue. All this is contrary to spiritual
meekness. -
Others, again, when they detect their own imperfections,
become angry at themselves with an impatience that is not
humble. They are so impatient with their shortcomings that
they would be saints in a day. Many of these form many
and grand resolutions, but, being self-confident and not
humble, the more they resolve, the more they fall, and the
more angry at themselves they become. They have not
patience enough to wait for God’s help; this is also opposed
to spiritual meekness. There is no perfect remedy for this
but in the Obscure Night. There are, however, some people
who are so patient, and who advance so slowly in the desire
for spiritual progress, that God wishes they were not so
patient.
CHAPTER VI.
Of the imperfections of Spiritual Gluttony.
I mAvE much to say of the fourth capital sin, which is
Spiritual Gluttony, for there is scarcely one among beginners,
Zz 2
Impatience
with self or
others
contrary to
humility.
Saints not
made ina
day.
Festina
lente.
Fifth Imper-
fection,—
Spiritual
Gluttony.
BOOK
i
Penance of
Reason,
Obedience.
Obedience
better than
Sacrifice.
340 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
however well he may go on, who does not fall into many of
the imperfections connected with this sin, in his case, owing
to that sensible sweetness which is at first to be found in
spiritual exercises.
Many beginners, delighting in the sweetness and joy of their
spiritual occupations, strive after spiritual sweetness rather
than after pure and true devotion, which is that which God
regards and accepts in the whole course of the spiritual way.
For this reason, over and above their imperfection in seeking
after sweetness in devotion, that spirit of gluttony, which has
taken possession of them, forces them to overstep the limits
of moderation, within which virtue is acquired and consists.
For allured by the delights they then experience, some of
them kill themselves by penances, and others weaken them-
selves by fasting. They take upon themselves more than
they can bear, without rule or advice; they conceal their
austerities from those whom they are bound to obey, and
some even practise them when they are expressly commanded
to abstain. These are full of imperfections—-unreasonable
people, who undervalue submission and obedience, which is
the penance of Reason and judgment, and therefore a more
acceptable and sweet sacrifice unto God than all the acts of
bodily penance. Bodily penance is full of imperfections
when the penance of the will is neglected, for men undertake
it merely for the sweetness which attends it.
Inasmuch then as.all extremes are vicious, and as in this
course of conduct men follow their own will, the conse-
quences are that they growin vice and not in virtue; at least
they minister to their spiritual gluttony and pride, for they
do not walk in the way of obedience. The devil so deceives
many of them by exciting their gluttony through this
sweetness which he increases, that, since they cannot
obey, they either change, or vary, or add to, what is com-
manded them: so hard and bitter is obedience become. The
—e rr
ala
INDISCREET PENANCES OF SELF-WILL. 341
evil has so grown upon some, that they lose all desire to do
their spiritual duties the instant obedience enjoins them ;
because their sole satisfaction consisted in following their
own inclinations, which, in their case, had better, perhaps,
have been unattended to.
Many of these importune their spiritual directors to allow
them to do what they have set their minds upon: they extort
that permission by force, and if it be refused, they mope like
children, and ,become discontented; they think they are not
serving God whenever they are thwarted in their wishes.
These persons clinging to sweetness and their own will, the
moment they are contradicted, and directed according to the
will of God, become fretful, fainthearted, and then fall away.
They imagine that to please and oe themselves, is to
serve and please God.
Others also there are, who, by reason of this spiritual
gluttony, are so ignorant of their own meanness and misery,
and so insensible to that loving fear and reverence due to the
Majesty of God, that they are not afraid to insist on being
allowed by their confessors to confess and communicate fre-
quently. And what is much worse, they very often dare
to communicate without the leave and approbation of the
minister and steward of Christ, purely out of their own head,
and conceal the fact from their director. This eagerness
for Communion makes them confess themselves carelessly, for
they are more anxious to communicate anyhow than to com-
municate in pureness and perfection. It would be more
profitable for them, and a holier course, to entreat their con-
fessors not to enjoin such frequent communions; though the
better way between these two extremes is to be humble
and resigned. This excessive boldness leads to great evil,
and men may well be in fear of some chastisement for their
rashness.
These persons, when they communicate, strive with all
Folly of self-
ion.
Self-love in
unad V ised
frequent
communion.
BOOK
iL
342 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
their might to find some sensible sweetness in the act, instead
——— of worshipping in humility and praising God within them-
Invisible
grace better
than sensible
sweetness.
How persons
seek, not
God, but
themselves,
even in
prayer.
selves. So much are they given up to this, that they think,
when they derive no sensible sweetness from Communion,
they have done nothing, so meanly do they think of God;
neither do they understand that the least of the blessings of
the Most.Holy Sacrament is that which touches the senses,
and that the invisible grace It confers is far greater; for God
frequently withholds these sensible favours from men, that
they may fix the eyes of faith upon Himself. But these
persons will feel and taste God, as if He were palpable and
accessible to them, not only in Communion, but in all their
other acts of devotion. All this is a very great imperfection,
and directly at variance with the requirements of God, which
demand the purest faith.
They conduct themselves in the same way when they are
praying ; for they imagine that the whole business of prayer
consists in sensible devotion, and this they strive to obtain with
all their might, wearying out their brains and perplexing all
the faculties of their souls. When they miss that sensible
devotion, they are cast down, thinking they have done
nothing. This effort after sweetness destroys true devotion
and spirituality, which consist in perseverance in prayer with
patience and humility, mistrusting self solely to please
God. And therefore, when they once miss their accustomed
sweetness in prayer, or in any other act of religion, they feel
a sort of repugnance to resume it, and sometimes cease from
it altogether. In short, they are like children who are not
influenced by Reason, but by their inclinations. They waste
themselves in the search after spiritual consolation, and are
never satisfied with reading good books, taking up one
meditation after another, in the pursuit of sensible sweetness
in the things of God. God refuses it to them most justly,
wisely, and lovingly, for if He did not, this spiritual gluttony on
—— a
ee OO
ENVY AND SPIRITUAL SLOTH. 343
their part would grow into great evils. For this reason, it is
most expedient that they should enter into the Obscure Night,
that they may be cleansed from this childishness.
They who are bent on sensible sweetness, labour under ano-
ther very great imperfection: weakness and remissness on the
rugged road of the Cross, for the soul that is given to sweet-
ness naturally sets its face against the pain of self-denial.
They labour under many other imperfections also, which
have their origin here, of which our Lord will heal them in
due time, through temptations, aridities and trials, elements
of the Obscure Night. I will not enlarge upon them here,
that I may avoid prolixity: but this will I say, that spiritual
soberness and temperance produce a far different temper of
mortification, of fear and submission in all things; showing
us that the perfection and value of things consist not in the
multitude thereof, but in knowing how to deny ourselves in
them. Spiritual men must labour after this with all their
might, until it shall please God to purify them by leading
them into the Obscure Night. And I hasten on with the
description of these imperfections, that I may enter on the
explanation of it.
CHAPTER VII.
Of the imperfections of Envy and Spiritual Sloth.
BEGINNERS are not free from many imperfections in the
matter of Envy and Spiritual Sloth. Many of them are wont
to experience emotions of displeasure at the contempla-
tion of other men’s goodness. They are sensibly afflicted
when others outstrip them on the spiritual road ; they cannot
endure to hear them praised. They are vexed with other
men’s virtues, and are sometimes unable to restrain them-
selves from contradiction when they are commended; they
Way of
Spiritual
sobriety ,—
Ww
Sixth and
seventh
Imperfec-
tions,—
Envy and
Spiritual
Sloth,
Perfection is
to do the
Will of God,
344 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
depreciate them as much as they can, and feel acutely
because they are not thought so well of themselves, for they
wish to be preferred above all others. All this is at variance
with that charity of which the apostle says, it ‘ rejoiceth
with the truth” * If charity admits of envy at all, it is a holy
envy that makes us grieve that we have not the virtues that
others have,; but still rejoicing that they have them, and glad
that others outstrip us in the race that they may serve God,
we being so full of imperfection ourselves.
As to Spiritual Sloth, beginners are wont to find their most
spiritual occupations irksome, and they avoid them therefore
as repugnant to their desire for sensible sweetness, for being
addicted to it in spiritual things, they loathe them when this
sweetness fails. If they miss but once their accustomed
sweetness in prayer—it is expedient that God should deprive
them of it at last—they will not resume it; at other times
they omit it, or return to it with a bad grace. Thus, under
the influence of spiritual sloth they turn aside from the Way
of Perfection—which is the denial of their will and pleasure
for God—preferring to it the gratification of their own will,
which they serve herein rather than the Will of God. Many
of these will have it that God should will what they will, and
are afflicted when they must will what He wills, and reluct-
antly submit their own to His Will. The result is that they
frequently imagine that what is not according to their will
is also not according to the Will of God; and, on the other
hand, that what pleases them is also pleasing unto God.
They measure Him by themselves, and not themselves by
Him, in direct contradiction to the teaching of the Gospel;
‘He that shall lose his life for My sake, shall find itt That
is, he who shall give up his own will for God shall have it,
and he who will have it, he shall have it never.
They also find it wearisome to obey when they are com-
* 1 Cor. xiii. 6. + S, Matth. xvi. 25,
REFORMATION OF SENSE AND SPIRIT. 345
manded to do what they like not; and because they walk in
the way of consolation and spiritual sweetness, they are
too weak for the rough trials of Perfection. They are like
persons delicately nurtured who avoid with heavy hearts
all that is hard and rugged, and are offended at the Cross
wherein the joys of the spirit consist. The more spiritual
the work they have to do, the more irksome do they feel it
to be. And because they will walk at their ease, gratifying
their will along the spiritual road, to enter on the § strait
way that leadeth unto life,’* is repugnant to their feelings and
produces heaviness of heart.
Let this account of the “many imperfections under
which they labour, who are in the first state of beginners,
suffice to show them how necessary it is for them that God
should bring them to the state of proficients, which He
effects when He leads them into the Obscure Night. In that
night He weans them from the breasts of sweetness, in. pure
aridities and interior darkness, cleanses them from all these
imperfections and childish ways, and by a way most different
from their own, makes them grow in virtue. After all our
exertions to mortify ourselves in our actions and passions,
our success will not be perfect, or even great, until God
Himself shall do it for us in the purgation of the Obscure
Night. May God be pleased to give me His light, that I
may speak profitably of this; for I have great need of it
while treating of a night so obscure, and a subject so difficult.
CHAPTER VIII.
Explanation of the first line of the first stanza: ‘In an Obscure Night.’
‘In an Obscure Night.’ This night—I have already said that
it is Contemplation—produces in spiritual men two sorts of
* S, Matth. vii. 14.
True spiri-
tual joys of
the Cross.
346 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK
L
The Sensi-
tive Night,—
how and why
God sénds it.
darkness or purgations conformable to the two divisions of
man’s nature into sensitive and spiritual. Thus one night or
Sensitive Purgation, wherein the soul is purified or detached,
will be of the senses, harmonizing them with the spirit. The
other is that night or Spiritual Purgation wherein the soul is
purified or detached in the spirit, and which harmonizes and
disposes the soul for union with God in love. The sensitive
night is common, and the lot of many: these are the be-
ginners, of whom I shall first speak. The spiritual night is
the portion of very few; and they are those who have made
some progress, exercised therein, of whom I shall speak
hereafter.
The first night, or purgation, is bitter and terrible to sense.
The second is not to be compared with it, for it is much more
awful to the spirit, as I shall soon show. But as the
night of sense is the first in order and in fact, I shall discuss it
briefly—for being of ordinary occurrence, it is the matter of
many treatises—that I may proceed with the discussion of the
spiritual night, of which very little has been said, either by
word of mouth or in writing, and of which little is known
even by experience.
As the conduct of beginners in the way of God is mean, in
harmony with their tastes and self-love, and as God wills
their advancement, and to draw them out of their mean way
of loving Him to the heights of the Divine love; to rescue
them from the grovelling work of sense and reflections, where
they so scantily and unseemlily feel after Him; to elevate
them to the practice of spirituality, where they may commune
with Him more fully, and in greater freedom from their
imperfections—being now experienced in the ways of virtue,
persevering in meditation and prayer, through the sweetness
of which they have been able to disentangle their affections
from the things of this world, and acquired some spiritual
strength so as to curb their desires; and being now capable
ee
eS a
Sa
TRIALS OF THE SENSITIVE NIGHT. 347
of bearing their burdens and enduring aridities, without
going back to that more pleasant time when their spiritual
exercises abounded in delights, and when the sun of Divine
favours shone more clearly upon them as they think, God
changes that light into darkness, and.seals up the door of the
fountain of the sweet waters of the Spirit, which they tasted
in God as often and as long as they wished. For when they
were weak and tender, this door was then not shut, as it is
written, ‘Behold, I have given before thee an opened door,
which no man can shut; because thou hast a little strength,
and hast kept My word, and hast not denied My Name.’ *
Now, at last, God leaves them in darkness so deep that
they know not whither to betake themselves with their
imaginations and reflections. They cannot now advance
a single step with their meditation, as they did before,
the inward sense being, as it were, suffocated in that night,
and abandoned to dryness so great that they have no more
any joy or sweetness in their spiritual exercises, as they had
before ; and in their place they now find nothing but insipidity
and bitterness. For now God, looking upon them as some-
what grown in grace, weans them from the breasts that they
CHAP.
vor.
may become strong, and cast-their swaddling-clothes aside: He ;
carries them in His arms no longer, and shows them how to
walk alone. All this is strange to them, for all things seem
to go against them.
Recollected persons enter the Gtansioe Night sooner than
others, after they have begun their spiritual course; because
they are kept at a greater distance from the occasions of
falling away, and because they correct more quickly their
worldly desires, which it is requisite to do even at the
commencement of the blessed Night of Sense. In general,
there elapses no great length of time after they have begun
* Apoce, iii, 8.
Time and
conditions of
entering the
Sensitive
Night.
BOOK
L
Three tests
to distin-
guish the
Sensitive
Night from
in, tepidity,
or bodily
weakness,
1. No desire
of, or
sweetness in,
creatures.
348 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
before they enter the night of sense, and most of them do
enter it, because they generally suffer aridities. The Holy
Scriptures throughout, but especially in the Psalms and the ~
prophetical books, furnish many illustrations of the night of
sense—it is so common; but, to avoid prolixity, I omit them
for the present, though in the course of my treatise I shall
have occasion to make use of some of them.
CHAPTER IX.
Of the signs by which it may be known that the spiritual man is walking
in the way of this Night or Sensitive Purgation.
Bor as these aridities may frequently proceed, not from this
night and purgation of the sensitive appetite, but from sin or
imperfections, from weakness or lukewarmness, from some
physical derangement or bodily indisposition, I shall here
propose certain signs by which we may ascertain whether a
particular aridity proceeds from the purgation of sense, or
from any one of the sources I have just enumerated. There
are three chief signs,
The first is when men find no comfort in the things of
God, and none also in created things. For when God leads
the soul into the Obscure Night in order to wean it from
sweetness and to purge away its sensitive desires, He does not
allow it to find sweetness or comfort anywhere. It is then
probable, in such a case, that this aridity is not the result of
sin or of imperfections recently committed; for if it were, we
should feel some inclination or desire for other things than
those of God. Whenever we give the reins to our desires in
the way of any imperfection, our desires are instantly at-
tracted to it, be it much or little, in proportion to the affection
we regard it with. But still, inasmuch as this absence of
pleasure in the things of Heaven and of earth may proceed
7 Tee) oe
——
TESTS OF PURGATIVE ARIDITY. 349
from bodily indisposition or a melancholy temperament, which
frequently cause dissatisfaction with all things, the second
“ sign and condition become necessary.
The second sign and condition of this purgation are that
the memory dwells ordinarily upon God with a painful
anxiety and carefulness, the soul thinks it is not serving
God, but going backwards, because it is no longer con-
scious of any sweétness in the things of God. In that case
it is clear that this weariness of spirit and aridity are not
the results of weakness and tepidity; for the peculiarity of
tepidity is the absence of great application to, and of interior
solicitude for, the things of God.~ There is, therefore, a great
difference between aridity and lukewarmness, for the latter
consists in great remissness of the will and resolution, and in
the want of all solicitude about serving God; but the pur-
gative aridity is accompanied in general by a painful anxiety
because the soul thinks that it is not serving God. Though
this be occasionally increased by constitutional melancholy —
so it sometimes happens—yet it is not for that reason without
its purgative effects on the desires, because the soul is de-
prived of all sweetness, and its sole anxieties are referred to
God. For when mere bodily-indisposition is the case, all that
it does is to cause disgust and the ruin of the physical con-
stitution, without those desires of serving God which belong
to the purgative aridity. In this aridity, though the sensitive
part of man be greatly depressed, weak and sluggish in good
works, by reason of the little satisfaction they furnish, the
spirit is, nevertheless, ready and strong.
The cause of this aridity is that God transfers to the spirit
the goods and energies of the senses, which, having no natural
fitness for it, become dry, parched up, and empty; for the
sensitive nature of man is not naturally adapted for that
which belongs to the spirit simply. Thus the spirit having
been tasted, the flesh becomes insipid and remiss; but the
2. Longing
anxiety for
God,
Difference
between
aridity and
lukewarm-
ness.
Purgative
aridity ,—
how and
why
produced,
BOOK
350 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
spirit, having received its proper nourishment, becomes strong,
————— more vigilant and careful than before, lest there should be any
The sensitive
appetite like
the Israelites
in the
Wilderness.
_ The will
strengthened
by sensible
aridity.
negligence in serving God. At first it is not conscious of any
spiritual sweetness and delight, but rather of aridities and dis-
taste, because of the novelty of the change. The spiritual palate
having been accustomed to sensible sweetness, the eyes of
the soul are still fixed upon it. And because the spiritual
palate is not prepared and purified for so delicious a taste
until it shall have been for some time disposed for it in this
arid and obscure night, it cannot taste of the spiritual good,
but rather of aridity and distaste, because it misses that which
it enjoyed with so much facility before.
These, whom God begins to lead through the solitudes
of the wilderness, resemble the children of Israel, who, though
God began to feed them, as soon as they were come into the
wilderness, with the manna of heaven, which ‘serving every
man’s will, was turned to what every man liked, * were
more sensible to the loss of the onions and flesh of Egypt—
for their taste had been formed to them and had revelled in
them—than to the delicious sweetness of the angelical food.
So in the midst of the manna they wept and bewailed the
flesh-pots of Egypt, saying, ‘ We remember the fish that we
ate in Egypt free-cost ; the cucumbers come into our mind,
and the melons, and the leeks, and the onions, and the
garlic.’ f Our appetite becomes so depraved that we long
for miserable trifles, and loathe the unchangeable good of
Heaven.
But when these aridities arise in the purgative way of the
sensitive appetite, though the spirit is at first without any
sweetness, for the reasons I have given, yet is it conscious of
strength and energy to act because of the substantial nature
of its interior food, which is the commencement of Contem-
* Wisd. xvi. 21. + Numb, xi. 5.
BEGINNING OF DIVINE CONTEMPLATION. 351
plation, obscure and dry to the senses. This contemplation
is in general secret, and unknown to him who is admitted
into it. Together with this aridity and emptiness the soul
feels a longing for solitude and repose, being unable to fix
the thoughts on anything distinctly, or even to desire to
do so.
Now, if they who are in this state knew how to be quiet,
to disregard every interior and exterior work, the accom-
plishment of which they labour after, and to be without
solicitude about everything but the resignation of themselves
into the hands of God, and a loving interior obedience to
His voice, they would have, in this tranquillity, a most
delicious taste of interior refreshing. This refreshing is so
delicate that, in general, it eludes our perceptions if we are in
any degree anxious to feel it, for it works in the soul when
most tranquil and free, and is like the air which vanishes
whenever we shut our hands to grasp it.
The words of the Bridegroom which he addressed to the
Bride are applicable to this matter: ‘Turn away thy eyes
from me, for they have made me flee away.’* Such is God’s
way of bringing the soul into this state; the road by which
He leads it is so different from the first, that if it willdo any-
thing in its own strength, it will hinder rather than aid His
work. The matter was far otherwise once. The reason is this :
God works in the soul, in the State of Contemplation, that is,
when it advances from meditation to the state of the profi-
cients, in such a way as to seem to have bound up all the interior
faculties, leaving no support in the Intellect, no sweetness in
the Will, no reflections in the Memory. Therefore, at this
time, all that the soul can do of itself ends only in disturbing
the interior peace, and hindering the work which God is
‘carrying on in the spirit amid the dryness of sense. This
* Cant. vi, 4.
CHAP.
IX.
Peace found
in humble
resignation.
BOOK
I.
3. Inability
to meditate
352 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
peace, being spiritual and delicate, effects a work that is
quiet and delicate, pacific and utterly alien to the former
delights, which were most palpable and sensible. This is
that peace of which the Psalmist spoke when he said, ‘ God
will speak in me, for He will speak peace unto His people.’*
This brings us to the third sign. -
The third sign we have for ascertaining whether this
aridity be the purgation of sense, is an inability to meditate
and make reflections, and to excite the imagination, as before,
notwithstanding all the efforts we may make; for God begins
now to communicate Himself, no longer through the channel
of sense, as He did formerly, in consecutive reflections, by
which we arranged and divided our knowledge, but in pure
spirit, which admits not of successive ideas, and in an act of
pure Contemplation, to which neither the interior nor the
exterior senses of our lower nature can ascend. Hence it is
that the fancy and the imagination cannot support or com-
mence any reflections, nor use them ever afterwards.
It is understood here that this embarrassment and aversion
of the senses does not arise out of any bodily ailment. When
it arises from this, the indisposition, which is always change-
able, having ceased, the powers of the soul recover their
former energies, and find their previous satisfactions at once.
It is otherwise in the purgation of the appetite, for as soon as
we enter upon this, the inability to make our meditations con-
tinually grows. It is true that this purgation is not continu-
ous in some persons, for they are not altogether without sen-
sible sweetness and comfort—their weakness renders their
rapid weaning inexpedient—nevertheless, it grows upon them
more and more, and the operations of sense diminish ; if it
be that they are advancing to perfection. They, however,
who are not walking in the Way of Contemplation, meet with a
* Ps, lxxxiv, 9.
INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE SENSITIVE NIGHT. 353
very different treatment, for the night of aridities is not
continuous with them, they are sometimes in it, and some-
times not; they are at one time unable to meditate, and at
another able as before.
God leads these persons into this night only to try them
and to humble them, and to correct their desires, that they
may not grow up spiritual gluttons, and not for the purpose
of leading them into the spiritual way, which is Contem-
plation. God does not elevate to perfect contemplation
everyone that is tried in the spiritual way, and He alone
knoweth why. Hence it is that these persons are never
wholly weaned from the breasts of meditations and reflections,
but only at intervals and at certain seasons.
CHAPTER X.
How they are to conduct themselves who have entered the
Obscure Night.
Duriné the aridity of the Night of Sense—when God effects
the change of which I have spoken, when He leads the soul
out of the way of sense into that of the spirit, from Medita-
tion to Contemplation, where it is helpless so far as its own
powers are concerned —spiritual persons have to endure
great afflictions, not so much because they are in the state of
aridity, but because they are afraid that they have missed the
way ; thinking that they are spiritually ruined, and that God
has forsaken them, only because they find no support or con-
solation in holy things. Under these circumstances, they
weary themselves, and strive, as they were wont, to fix the
powers of the soul with some satisfaction upon some object
of meditation—they think when they cannot do this, and are
not conscious of their labour, that they are doing nothing—
but with great dislike and interior unwillingness on the part
VOL. I. AA
CHAP,
Ix.
Not all spi-
ritual per-
sons reach
Contempla-
tion.
Cause of the
afflictions of
the Sensitive
Night,—
what,
BOOK
I.
Necessity of
right instruc-
tion.
Confidence in
God.
Conduct to be
observed in
the Sensitive
Night,—Pa-
tience and
Persever-
ance.
354 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
of the soul, which enjoys its state of quietness and rest.
While they change from one condition they make no progress
in the other, because, by exerting their own spirit, they lose
that spirit which they had in tranquillity and peace. They —
are like a man who does his work over again; or who goes
out of a city that he may enter it once more; or who lets
go what he has caught in hunting that he may hunt it again.
Their labours are in vain; for they will find nothing, and
that because they are turning back to their former habits.
Under these circumstances, if they meet with no one who
understands their case, these persons fall away, and abandon
the right road; or become weak, or at least put hindrances
in the way of their further advancement, because they make
efforts to proceed in their former way of Meditation, fatiguing
their natural powers beyond measure. They think that their
state is the result of negligence or of sin. All their efforts are
now in vain, because God is leading them by another and a
very different road, that of Contemplation. Their first road
was that of discursive reflection, but no imagination or
reasoning can reach the second.
It behoves those who find themselves in this condition to
take courage, and persevere in patience. Let them not
afflict themselves, but put their confidence in God, who never
forsakes those who seek Him with a pure and upright heart.
Neither will He withhold from them all that is necessary for
them on this road until He brings them to the clear and
pure light of love, which He will show them in that other
obscure night of the spirit, if they shall merit an entrance
into it.
The conduct to be observed by spiritual men in the night
of sense is this: Let them in nowise have recourse'to medita-
tions, for the time is now past, and let them leave their soul
in quietness and repose, though they may think they are doing
nothing, that they are losing time, and that their tepidity
MEDITATION CEASES IN CONTEMPLATION. 355
is the reason of their unwillingness to employ their thoughts.
They will do enough if they keep patience, and persevere in
prayer ; all they have to do is to keep their soul free, unem-
barrassed, and at rest from all thoughts and all knowledge,
not anxious about what they shall think or meditate, con-
tenting themselves with directing their attention lovingly and
calmly towards God; and all this without anxiety or effort, or
immoderate desire to feel and taste His presence. For all such
efforts disquiet the soul, and distract it from the calm repose
and sweet tranquillity of Contemplation betanging to their
present state.
And though they may have many scruples that they are
wasting time, and that it may be better for them to betake
themselves to some other occupation, seeing that in prayer
and meditation they are become helpless; yet let them be
patient with themselves, and remain quiet, for what they are
uneasy about is their own satisfaction and liberty of spirit.
If they were now to exert their interior faculties, they would
only impede and ruin the good which, in that repose, God is
working in the soul; for if a man while sitting for his portrait
cannot be still, but moves about, the painter will never
depict his face, and even what he may have done will be
spoiled. So when the soul interiorly reposes, every action and
passion, or anxious consideration at that time, will distract
and disturb it, and make it feel the dryness and emptiness of
sense. The more efforts it makes to acquire support in
affection and knowledge, the more will it feel the deficiency
which cannot now be supplied in that way. It is therefore
expedient for the soul which is in this condition not to be
troubled because its faculties have become useless, yea, rather
it should desire that they may become so quickly; for by
offering no impediment to the operation of infused contem-
plation, to which God is now admitting it, the soul is refreshed
in peaceful abundance, and set on fire with the spirit of love,
AA®
of Love.
highest Con-
templation,
Contempla-
tion an infu-
sion of God.
356 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL
which this obscure and secret contemplation induces and es-
tablishes within it.
Still, I do not mean to lay down a general rule for the
cessation from meditation; that should occur when meditation
is no longer feasible, and only then, when our Lord, either in
the way of purgation and affliction, or of the most perfect
contemplation, shall make it impossible. At other times, and
on other occasions, this support must be had recourse to,
namely, meditation on the Life and Passion of Christ, which
is the best means of purification and of patience and of security
on the road, and an admirable aid to the highest contempla-
tion. Contemplation is nothing else but the secret, pacific,
and loving infusion of God, which, if it be admitted, will set
the soul on fire with the spirit of love, as I shall show in the
explanation of the following verse.
CHAPTER XI.
STANZA I.
With anxious love inflamed.
Tue burning fire of love, in general, is not felt at first, for it
has not begun to burn, either because of our natural want of
purity, or because the soul, not understanding its own state,
has not given it a peaceful rest within itself. Sometimes, how-
ever, whether that be the case or not, a certain anxiety about
God arises; and the more it grows, the more the soul feels itself
touched and inflamed with the love of God, without knowing
how or whence that feeling arises, except that at times this
burning so inflames it that it longs earnestly after God.
David in this night said of himself, ‘My heart hath been
inflamed, and my reins have been changed, and I am brought
to nothing, and I knew not.’* That is, ‘ my heart hath been
* Ps. Ixxii, 21, 22.
oe
LONGINGS OF THE SOUL FOR GOD. 357
inflamed’ in the love of contemplation; ‘ my reins,’ that is, my
tastes and affections also, have been changed from the sensi-
tive to the spiritual way by this holy dryness, and in my cessa-
tion from them all, and ‘ Iam brought to nothing, and I knew
not.’ The soul, as I have just said, not knowing the way it
goeth, sees itself brought to nothing as to all things of
Heaven and earth, wherein it delighted before, and on fire
with love, not knowing how.
And because occasionally this fire of love grows in the
spirit greatly, the longings of the soul for God are so deep
that the very bones seem to dry-up in that thirst, the bodily
health to wither, the natural warmth and energies to perish
in the intensity of that thirst of love. The soul feels it to be
a living thirst. Such, also, was the feeling of David when he
said, ‘ My soul hath thirsted after the strong living God.’*
It is as if he had said, my thirst is a strong living thirst.
We may say of this thirst, that being a living thirst, it kills.
Though this thirst is not continuously, but only occasionally,
violent, nevertheless it is always felt in some degree.
I commenced by observing that this love, in general, is not
felt at first, but only the aridity and emptiness of which I
am speaking; and then, instead of love, which is afterwards
enkindled, what the soul feels amidst its aridities and the
emptiness of its faculties is a general painful anxiety about God,
and a certain misgiving that it is not serving Him. Buta
soul anxious and afflicted for His sake, is a sacrifice pleasing
unto God. Secret contemplation keeps the soul in this state
of anxiety, until, in the course of time, having purged the
sensitive nature of man, in some degree, of its natural forces
and affections by means of the aridities it occasions, it shall
have kindled within it this Divine Jove. But in the meantime,
like a sick man in the hands of his physician, all it has to
* Ps, xli. 3,
Martyrdom
of Divine
love.
Love not felt
at first, but
after suffer-
ing,
BOOK
Zs
Third line,—
*O happy
lot!’
358 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
do, in the obscure night and dry purgation of the desire, is to
suffer, healing its many imperfections and practising many
virtues, that it-may become meet for this Divine love, of
which I speak while explaining the following line:
O happy lot!
When God establishes the soul in the obscure night, that
He may purify, prepare, and subdue its’ inferior nature, and
unite it to the spirit, by depriving it of light, and causing
it to cease from meditation—as He afterwards establishes it
also in the spiritual night, that He may purify the spirit, and
prepare it for union with God — the soul acquires such great
advantages, though it seems not so, that it looks upon it as
great happiness to have escaped from the bondage of the senses
in that happy night, and therefore it sings—‘O happy lot !’
It is necessary now for us to point out the benefits which
accrue to the soul in this night, and for the sake of which it
pronounces itself happy in having passed through it. All
these benefits are comprised in these words :—‘ Forth unob-
served I went.’
This going forth of the soul is to be understood of that
subjection to sense under which it laboured when it was
seeking after God in weak, limited, and fitful ways, for such
are the ways of man’s sensitive nature. It then fell at every
step into a thousand imperfections and ignorances, as I
showed while speaking of the seven capital sins, from all of
which the spiritual man is delivered in the obscure night
which quenches all desire in all things whatsoever, and
deprives him of all his lights in meditation, and brings with
it other innumerable blessings towards the acquirement of
virtue. It will be a great joy and comfort to him who
travels on this road, to observe how that which seemed so
rugged and harsh, so contrary to spiritual sweetness, works in
him so great a good. This good flows from going forth, as
:
,
BENEFITS OF THE SENSITIVE NIGHT. 359
to all affections and operations of the soul, from all created
things, in this obscure night, and journeying towards those
which are eternal, which is a great happiness and a great
good. In the first place, because the desires are extinguished
in all things ; and in the second place, because they are few
who persevere and enter in at the narrow gate, by the strait
way that leadeth to life: ‘ How narrow is the gate and strait
is the way that leadeth to life, and few there are that find it!’*
The narrow gate is the night of sense. The soul detaches
itself from sense that it may enter into that night, directing
itself by faith, which is a stranger to all sense, that it may after-
wards travel along the strait road of the other night of the
spirit, by which it advances towards God in most pure faith,
which is the means of the Divine union. This road, because
so strait, dark, and terrible—for there is no comparison
between its trials and darkness and those of the night of sense
—is travelled by very few, but its blessings are so much the
more. I proceed now to speak with the utmost brevity of the
blessings of the night of sense, that I may pass on to the other.
CHAPTER XII.
Of the benefits of the Night of Sense.
Tuts night and purgation of the appetite is full of happiness
to the soul, involving grand benefits, though it seems as if all
were lost. As Abraham ‘made a great feast on the day of
Isaac’s weaning,’ + so there is joy in Heaven when God takes a
soul out of its swaddling-clothes; when He takes His arms
from under it, and makes it walk alone; when He denies it the
milk of the breast and the delicate food of children, and gives
it bread with the crust to eat; when He makes it eat the bread
of the strong, which is presented, in the aridities and darkness
* S. Matt. vii. 14, + Gen. xxi. 8,
Joy at the
BOOK
a
Benefits of
the Night of
Sense.
1. Infused
Contempla-
tion.
2. Knowledge
of our own
vileness,
360 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL,
of sense, to the spirit emptied and dried of all sensible sweet-
ness ; namely, the bread of infused Contemplation. This is
the first and principal bénefit, and from which almost all the
others flow.
Of these, the first is a knowledge of our own selves and
our own vileness. For over and above that this knowledge
ordinarily includes those favours which God bestows on the
soul, these aridities and the emptiness of the faculties as to
their former abounding, and the difficulty which good works
present, bring the soul to a knowledge of its own vileness
and misery, which in the season of prosperity it saw not.
This truth is vividly shadowed forth in the Book of Exodus.
There we read that God, willing to humble the people and
bring them to a knowledge of themselves, commanded them
to lay aside their ornaments and festival attire, which they
ordinarily wore in the wilderness, saying, ‘Lay aside thy
ornaments ;’ that is, lay aside thy holiday garments, and put
on thy common vestments, that thou mayest know what
treatment thou hast deserved. It is as if He said to the
people: ‘ Inasmuch as the ornaments you wear, being those
of joy and festivity, are the cause why you think not meanly
of yourselves— you really are mean—lay them aside; so that
henceforth clad in vile garments, you may acknowledge that
you deserve nothing better, and also who and what you are.’
Here the soul learns the reality of its own misery, which
before it knew not. For in the day of its festivity, when it
found great sweetness, comfort, and help in God, it was
highly satisfied and pleased, thinking that it rendered some
service to God. For though it may not explicitly say so, yet,
on account of the satisfaction it feels, some such feeling still
clings to it. But when it has put on the garments of heavi-
ness, of aridity and abandonment, when its previous lights
have become darkness, it will then possess in reality that
excellent and necessary virtue of self-knowledge, counting
tie i)
J, .
_ SELF DESPISED ; GOD REVERED. 361
itself for nothing, and having no satisfaction in itself, because
it sees that of itself it does and can do nothing. This
- diminished satisfaction with self, and the affliction it feels
because it thinks that it is not serving God, God esteems
more highly than all its former delights and all its good
works, however great they may have been. For then many
imperfections and ignorances clung to it; but now in the garb
of aridity, it derives not only those fruits of which I am
speaking, but others also of which I shall presently speak,
and much more than I can speak of, as from their proper
source and fount of self-knowledge.
In the next place, the soul learns to commune with God
with more reverence and gentleness; and this is always
necessary while it converses with the Most High. Now, in
its prosperous days of sweetness and consolation, the soul was
less observant of reverence, for the favours, of which it was
then the object, rendered the appetite somewhat bold with
God, and less reverential than it should have been. Thus it
was with Moses, when he heard the voice of God; for carried
away by the delight he felt, he ventured, without further
consideration, to draw near, till God commanded him to stop,
saying, ‘Come not nigh hither; put off the shoes from thy
feet.’* This teaches us how reverently and discreetly in
spiritual detachment we are to converse with God. When
Moses had become obedient to the voice, he remained so
reverent and considerate, that not only did he refrain from
advancing, but, in the words of Scripture, ‘durst not look at
God.’t For having put off the shoes of desire and sweetness,
he recognised profoundly his own meanness in the sight of
God, for such a state of mind became him when about to
listen to the Divine words.
The temper of mind to which Job was brought in order
* Exod. iii. 5, + Ib. 6.
CHAP.
Xi,
83. Reverence
for God,
Example of
Moses,
BOOK
I.
Example of
Job.
4, Spiritual
Illumination.
362 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
that he might converse with God, was not that of delight and
grandeur, such as he had before. God left him in misery,
naked on a dung-hill, persecuted by his friends, filled with
sorrow and grief, covered with worms:* then it was that the
Most High, Who lifteth up ‘the poor out of the dunghill,’ f
was pleased to communicate Himself to Job in greater abun-
dance and sweetness, revealing to him ‘the deep mysteries of
His Wisdom,’t as He had never done before in the days of
Job’s prosperity.
And now that I am on this subject, I must here point out
another great benefit of the Obscure Night and aridity of the
sensitive appetite. It is this: God, verifying the words of the
Prophet, ‘Then My light shall rise up in darkness,’§ en-
lightens the soul, so that it shall confess, not only its own
misery and meanness, but also His Grandeur and Majesty.
Not only does the extinction of desires, and the suppression of
sensible joy and consolation, purify the intellect for the recep-
tion of the truth—for sensible joys and desires even of spiritual
things obscure and perplex the mind—but the trials and aridi-
ties of sense also enlighten and quicken the intellect; as it
is written, ‘ Vexation alone shall make you understand what
you hear.’ || Vexation shall make us understand how God in
His Divine Wisdom proceeds to instruct a soul, emptied and
cleansed—for such it must be before it can be the recipient
of the Divine influence—in a supernatural way, in the obscure
and arid night of contemplation, which He could not do before,
when it was given up to its former sweetnesses and joys.
The Prophet sets this truth before us with great clearness,
saying, ‘Whom shall He teach knowledge? and whom shall
He make to understand the hearing? Them that are weaned
from the milk, that are drawn away from the breasts.’ The
* Job ii. 8; xxx. 17, 18. T Ps. cxii. 7. t Job xxxviii.
§ Is. lviii. 10. || Is. xxviii. 19, {| Ib. 9.
Ee
SUFFERING ENLIGHTENS THE SOUL. 363
temper of mind, then, meet for the Divine influence is not so
much the milk of spiritual sweetness, nor the breasts of sweet
reflections in the sensitive powers, such as the soul once
enjoyed, as the absence of both the one and the other.
And therefore, if we would listen to the voice of the great
King with due reverence, the soul must stand upright, and
not lean on the affections of sense for support. We must be
like the Prophet, who said of himself, ‘I will stand upon my
watch, and fix my foot upon the tower, and I will watch to
see what will be said to me.’* To stand upon the watch, is
to cast off all desires; to fix the foot, is to cease from all
reflections of sense, that we may behold and understand what
God will speak to us. Thus out of this obscure night springs
first the knowledge of oneself, and on that, as on a foundation,
is built up the knowledge of God. ‘ Let me know myself,’
saith §. Augustine, ‘and I shall then know Thee, O my
God,’ for, as Philosophers say, one extreme is known by
another.
In order to show more fully how effectual is the night of
sense, in its aridity and desolation, to enlighten the soul
more and more, I produce the words of the Psalmist, which
so clearly describe the power of this night in bringing men
to the knowledge of God: ‘In a desert land, and where
there is no way, and no water; so in the sanctuary have [
come before Thee, to see Thy power and Thy glory.’ The
Psalmist does not say —and it is worthy of observation —
that his previous sweetness and delight were any dispositions
meet for the knowledge of the glory of God, but rather
that aridity and weaning from the sensitive faculties, which
are here meant by the ‘barren land.’ Neither does he say
that his reflections and meditations on Divine things, with
which he was once familiar, had led him to the knowledge
* Habac. ii, 1. + Ps. lxii. 3.
* Noverim me
Domine et
cognoscam
Te.’
BOOK :
tM
5. Humility.
6. Loveof our
neighbours.
7. Docility.
364 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
and contemplation of God’s power, but, rather, his inability
to meditate on God, to form reflections by the help of his
imagination, which he describes by a ‘land where there is.
no way. The means, therefore, of attaining to the know-
ledge of God, and of ourselves, is the Obscure Night with all
its aridities and emptiness; though not in the fulness of the
other night of the spirit; for this knowledge is, as it were,
the beginning of the other.
Amid the aridities and emptiness of this night of the
desires, the soul acquires also spiritual Humility, which is
the virtue opposed to the first capital sin, spiritual pride.
The humility acquired by self-knowledge purifies the soul
from all the imperfections into which we fell in the day of
our prosperity. For now, seeing ourselves so dried up and
miserable, it does not enter into our thoughts, even for a
moment, to consider ourselves better than others, or that we
have outstripped them on the spiritual road, as we did before ;
on the contrary, we acknowledge that others are better than
we are. Out of this grows the love of our neighbours, for
we now esteem them, and no longer judge them as we used
to do, when we looked upon ourselves as exceedingly fervent,
and upon others as not. Now we see nothing but our own
misery, which we keep so constantly before our eyes that we
can look upon nothing else. This state is admirably de-
scribed by David himself in this obscure night, saying, ‘I
was dumb, and was humbled, and kept silence from good
things, and my sorrow was renewed.’* All the good of his
soul seemed to him so mean that he could not prevail upon
himself to speak of it; and he was silent as to the good of
others, because of the pain he felt in the knowledge of his
own wretchedness,
In this state, too, men are submissive and obedient in the
¥ Ps, EXs Vii co.
= ro
—<—_ —
VIRTUES FOUND IN SUFFERING. 365
spiritual way, for when they see their own wretchedness they
not only listen to instruction, but desire to have it from any
one who will guide their steps and tell them what they ought
todo. That presumption which sometimes attended them in
their prosperity is now gone; and, finally, all those imper-
fections are swept clean away to which I referred when I
was treating of spiritual pride.
CHAPTER XIII.
Of other benefits of the Night of Sense.
Tue imperfections of spiritual avarice, under the influence
of which the soul coveted all spiritual goods, and was never
satisfied in the practices of devotion, because of its eagerness
for the sweetness it found therein, become now, in this arid and
obscure night, sufficiently corrected. For when the spiritual
man finds no more sweetness and delight, as he was wont to do,
in spiritual things, but rather bitterness and vexation, he has
recourse to them with such moderation that he loses now,
perhaps, through defect, what he lost before through excess.
Though, in general, to those who are come to this night
God gives humility and readiness, but without sweetness, in
order that they may obey Him solely through love. Thus
they detach themselves from many things, because they
find no more sweetness in them.
The soul is purified, also, from those impurities of spiritual
luxury of which I have spoken before, in this aridity and
loathing of the senses which it now finds in spiritual things ;
for those impurities proceed, in general, from the sweetness
which flowed occasionally from the spirit into the sense.
The imperfections of spiritual gluttony, from which the
soul is delivered in the obscure night, have been discussed in
8. Liberty of
spirit.
9. Spiritual
Purity.
366 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK former chapter,* though not all, because they cannot be
zat numbered. I shall not enumerate them here, for I wish
Temperance. to conclude the subject of this night, that I may pass on to
the other, with regard to which I have serious things to
write. Suffice it, then, to say, that the soul, in addition to
the benefits already mentioned, gains, in this night, innu-
merable others, in its resistance to spiritual gluttony. It is
set free from those imperfections there enumerated, and
from many other evils greater than those described, into
which too many fall, as we learn by experience, because they
have not corrected their desires in the matter of spiritual
gluttony. For when God, in this arid and obscure night, so
curbs the desire and bridles concupiscence that the soul can
searcely feed at all upon the sensible sweetness of heavenly or
of earthly things—and this so continuously that the soul cor-
rects, mortifies, and controls its concupiscence and desires, so
that the very forces of its passions seem to be broken down—
marvellous benefits flow forth from that spiritual temperance,
in addition to those I have mentioned ; for, through mortify-
ing concupiscence and the desires, the soul dwells in spiritual
tranquillity and peace; because, where concupiscence and
desire have no sway, there is no trouble, but, rather, the
peace and consolations of God.
11. Holy fear Another benefit is this, a perpetual recellestion of God,
with fear lest we should be going back on the spiritual way.
This is a great benefit, and not the least, of aridity and
the purgation of the appetite, for the soul is cleansed thereby
from those imperfections which disfigured it through the
. affections and desires, the effect of which is to obscure and
deaden ‘the soul.
12. Patience, Another great benefit of this night is, the practice of many
Love, and i ‘ ‘ .
Peave. virtues at once; such as patience and longsuffering, which are
* Chap. vi.
i x -
aaa gel
——-_—:-- ~*-*
ee
ae
a
‘
5 .
> ro ear
PERFECTIONS OF THE CHASTENED SOUL. 367
well tried in these aridities, when men persevere in their
spiritual exercises without sweetness or comfort. The love
of God is practised, because men are no longer attracted by
sweetness and consolation, but by God only. The virtue of
fortitude also is practised, because amid the hardships, and
the absence of sweetness, which the soul now endures, it
gathers strength from weakness, and so becomes strong:
finally, all the virtues, cardinal, theological, and moral, are
practised amidst these aridities.
David tells us from his own experience that the soul gains
these four benefits in this obscure night, namely, delight of
peace, constant recollection of God, pureness of soul, and the
practice of all virtues. ‘My soul,’ saith he, ‘refused to be
comforted; I remembered God and was delighted, and was
exercised, and my spirit swooned away.’ He adds also: ‘I medi-
tated in the night with my own heart, and I was exercised, and
I swept my spirit’* clean of all affections.
The soul is purified also in this aridity of the desires from
the imperfections of envy, anger, and sloth, and acquires the
opposite virtues. Softened and humbled by these aridities, by
the hardships, temptations, and afflictions which in this night
try it, it becomes gentle with God, with itself, and with its
neighbours. It is no longer impatiently angry with itself
because of its own faults, nor with its neighbours for theirs;
neither does it avoid- with a kind of dislike the things of God,
nor utter unseemly complaints because He does not perfect His
work at once. As to envy, the soul is now charitably dis-
posed towards everyone, and if any remain, it is no longer
vicious as before, when the soul was afflicted at the preference
shown to others, or at their greater progress ; for now it yields
to everyone considering its own misery, and the envy it feels,
if it feels any, is a virtuous envy, a desire to emulate them,
which is great virtue.
* Ps, Ixxvi. 3, 4, 7.
CHAP.
13. Gentle-
ness with
God, self, and
others,
14, Holy
Emulation.
BOOK
I.
15. Fortitude
id aridi-
ties.
16. Twelve
Fruits of the
Holy Ghost,
368 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL. ~
The sloth and weariness now felt in spiritual things are no
longer vicious as they were once. They were once the fruit
of spiritual delights which the soul experienced at times, and
sought after when it had them not. But this present weari-
ness proceeds not from the failure of sweetness, for God has
taken it all away in this purgation of the appetite. 7
Other innumerable benefits flow from this arid contempla-
tion; for, in the midst of these aridities and hardships, God
communicates to the soul, when it least expects it, spiritual
sweetness, most. pure love, and spiritual knowledge of the
most exalted kind, of greater worth and profit than any of
which it had previous experience, though at first the soul
may not think so, for the spiritual influence now communi-
cated is most delicate, and imperceptible by sense.
Finally, inasmuch as the soul is purified of all affections
and sensitive desires, it attains to liberty of spirit, wherein it
acquires the twelve fruits of the Holy Ghost. It is also
delivered in a most wonderful way from the hands of its
three enemies—the devil, the world, and the flesh; for
when all sensible delight and sweetness are quenched, the
devil, the world, and the flesh have no weapons wherewith to
assail it.
These aridities, then, make the soul love God in all pure-
ness, for now its operations depend no longer upon the
pleasure and sweetness which it found in its works—as perhaps
was the case when that sweetness was present—but only in
the desire it has to please God. The soul is not now pre-
sumptuous and self-satisfied, as perhaps it may have been
in the day of its prosperity, but timid and diffident of self,
deriving no satisfaction whatever from self-contemplation.
Herein consists that holy fear by which virtues are preserved
and grow. This aridity quenches concupiscence, and subdues
our natural spirits; for now, when God infuses, from time to
time, His own sweetness into the soul, it would be strange if
a a
sl il el
VICTORY BY SUFFERING. 369
it found by any efforts of its own any comfort or sweetness
in any spiritual act or practice.
The fear of God and anxiety for His service increase in
this arid night; for as the breasts of sensuality, which nour-
ished and sustained the desires that clung to them, become
dry, nothing remains in that aridity and detachment but an
anxious desire to serve Him, which is most pleasing unto
God, as it is written : ‘a sacrifice to God is an afflicted spirit.’*
When the soul beholds the many and great benefits which
have fallen to its lot in this arid purgation through which it
passed, it cries out with truth, ‘ oh, happy lot, forth unobserved
I went.’ I escaped from the bondage and thraldom of my
sensitive desires and affections, unobserved, so that none of
my three enemies were able to hinder me. These enemies of
the soul so bind and imprison it, that it cannot go forth out
of itself to the liberty of the perfect love of God, by the help
of its tastes and desires; without which they can do nothing
against it.
And, therefore, when the four passions of the soul, joy and
grief, hope and fear, are subdued by persevering mortifications,
when the natural sensitive appetite is lulled by continual
aridities, when the concert of the senses is silent, and when
the interior powers have ceased from discursive reflections —
this is the household of man’s lower nature—these enemies
cannot hinder the spiritual liberty of the soul, and the house
thereof remains tranquil and at rest.
CHAPTER XIV.
The last line of the first stanza explained.
‘My house being now at rest.’ When the house of sensu-
ality was at rest, that is, when the passions were mortified,
* Ps. 1, 19,
VOL. I. BB
Last benefit,
— Deliver-
ance from the *
World, the
BOOK
870 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
concupiscence quenched, the desires subdued and lulled to sleep
in the blessed night of sensitive purgation, the soul began to set
_ out on the way of the spirit, the way of proficients, which is
also called the Illuminative Way, or the way of infused con-
templation, wherein God Himself nourishes and refreshes the
soul without the help of any active efforts that itself may
make. SuchasI have said is this night and purgation of the
senses, ;
But this night, in their case, who are to enter into that
other more awful night of the spirit, that they may go for-
wards to the Divine union of the love of God—it is not
everyone, but only a few who do so in general—is attended
with heavy trials and temptations of sense of long continu-
2. The spirit
of blas-
phemy.
8. The spirit
of giddiness.
ance, but in some longer than in others; for to some is sent
the angel of Satan, the spirit of impurity, to buffet them
with horrible and violent temptations of the flesh, to afflict
their minds with filthy thoughts, and their imaginations with
representations of sin most vividly depicted ; which, at times,
becomes an affliction more grievous than death.
This night is also occasionally attended by the spirit of
blasphemy ; the thoughts and conceptions are overrun with
intolerable blasphemies, and, at times, suggested to the imagi-
nation with such violence as almost to break forth in words;
this, too, is a heavy affliction.
Again, another spirit, called by the Prophet, ‘the apitaik of
giddiness,’ * is sent to torment them. This spirit so obscures
their judgment that they are filled with a thousand scruples
and perplexities; they can never satisfy themselves about
them, nor submit their judgment therein to the counsel and
direction of others. This is one of the most grievous stings
and horrors of this night, most like to that which passes
in the night of the spirit.
* te, xix, 14.
ee
TRIALS GIVE WISDOM AND STRENGTH. 371
God ordinarily sends these violent storms and temptations,
in the night of sensitive purgation, upon those whom He is
about to lead afterwards into the other night—though all do
not enter in—that being thus chastened and buffeted they
may prove themselves, dispose and habituate sense and facul-
ties for the union of the Divine wisdom to which they are
to be then admitted. For if the soul be not tempted, exer-
cised, and tried, in temptations and afflictions, the senses
thereof will never attain to wisdom. ‘What doth he know,’
asks the Wise Man, ‘ that hath not been tried ?. . . He that
hath no experience knoweth little. ... He that hath not
been tried, what manner of things doth he know?’* Jeremias
also bears witness to the same truth, saying: ‘thou hast
chastised me, and I was instructed.’ f The most proper form
of this chastening, for him who will apply himself unto wis-
dom, are those interior trials of which I am now speaking.
They are the most effectual for purging the sensitive nature
from all sweetness and consolations, to which, by reason of our
natural infirmities, we are addicted, and most capable of
really humbling the soul that it may be prepared for its
coming exaltation.
But how long the soul will continue in this fast and penance
of sense no one can with certainty tell. It is not the same in
all men, neither are all men subjected to the same temptations.
These trials are measured by the Divine will, and are pro-
portioned to the imperfections, many or few, which are to be
purged away: and also to the degree of union in love to which
God intends to elevate a particular soul; that is the measure
of its humiliations, both in their intensity and duration.
Those who are endowed with the capacity for suffering, An
and who have force sufficient to endure, are purified in more
intense trials, and in less time. But those who are weak are
* Ecclus. xxxiv. 9, 10, 11, + Jerem. xxxi. 18,
BB 2
CHAP.
XIV.
The soul
purified for
the Divine
Union by
suffering.
Duration and
intensity of
trials deter-
mined by
God ;
BOOK
IL
O Domine,
pati et
contemni
pro Tel
372 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL,
purified very slowly, with weak temptations, and the night of
their purgation is long: their senses are refreshed from time
to time lest they should fall away; these, however, come late
to the pureness of their perfection in this life, and some of
them never. These persons are not clearly in the purgative
night, nor clearly out of it; for though they make no onward
progress, yet in order that they may be humble and know
themselves, God tries them for a season in aridities and
temptations, and visits them with His consolations at inter-
vals lest they should become faint-hearted, and seek for com-
fort in the ways of the world,
From other souls, still weaker, God, as it were, hides Him-
self, that He may try them in His love, for without this hiding
of His face from them they would never learn how to ap-
proach Him. But those souls that are to go forwards to so
blessed and exalted a state as this of the union of love, how-
ever quickly God may lead them, tarry long, in general,
amidst aridities, as we see- by experience. Having now
brought the first book to a close, I proceed to treat of the
second night,
A oi
STATE OF PROFICIENTS, | 373
BOOK II.
OF THE NIGHT OF THE SPIRIT.
CHAPTER I.
The second Night; that of the spirit. When it begins.
HE soul, which God is leading onwards, enters not into CHAP.
the union of love at once when it has passed through [him
the aridities and trials of the first purgation and night of %*Si,
sense. It must spend some time, perhaps years, after quit- Paty tne
ting the state of beginners, in exercising itself in the state of aah
proficients. In this state—like a man released from a rigour-
ous imprisonment—it occupies itself in Divine things with
much greater freedom and satisfaction, and its joy is more
abundant and interior than it ever experienced in the begin-
ning before it entered the sensitive night ; its imagination and
faculties being no longer tied down, as hitherto, to spiritual
thoughts and reflections, it now rises at once to most tran-
quil and loving contemplation, and finds spiritual sweetness
without the fatigue of meditation. But as the purgation
of the soul is still somewhat incomplete— the chief part,
the purgation of the spirit, being wanting, without which, by
reason of the mutual connection between our higher and
lower nature, man being an individual, the purgation of sense,
however Violent it may have been, is not finished and per-
fect—it will never be without some aridities, darkness, and
trials, sometimes much more severe than in the past, which
are, as it were, signs and heralds of the coming night of the
BOOK
I.
374 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
spirit, though not so lasting as that night; for when the
days or the season of this tempestuous night have passed,
the soul recovers at once its wonted serenity. It is in this
way that God purifies some souls whom He does not raise to
so high a degree of love as others. He admits them at inter-
vals into the night of contemplation or spiritual purgation,
causing the sun to shine upon them occasionally, and then to
hide its face, according to the words of the Psalmist: ‘He
sendeth His crystal,’ that is, contemplation, ‘like morsels.’ *
These morsels of obscure contemplation are, however, never
so intense as is that awful night of contemplation of which I
am speaking, and into which God purposely leads the soul,
that He may elevate it to the Divine union.
That sweetness and interior delight, which the proficients ©
find so easily and so plentifully, come now in greater abun-
dance than before, overflowing into the senses more than
they were wont to do previous to the sensitive purgation. And
as the senses are now more pure, they can taste of the sweet-
ness of the spirit in their way with greater facility; but
since the sensitive part of the soul is weak, without any capa-
city for the strong things of the spirit, they who are in the
state of proficients are liable, by reason of the spiritual
communications which reach to the sensitive part, to great
infirmities and sufferings, and physical derangements, and
consequently weariness of mind, as it is written: ‘the cor-
ruptible body . . . . presseth down the mind.’t Hence the
communications made to these cannot be very strong, intense,
or spiritual, such as they are required to be for the Divine
union with God, because of the weakness and corruption of
the sensitive part which has a share in them.
Here is the source of ecstasies, raptures, and dislecation of
the bones which always happen whenever these communica-
* Ps, exlvii. 17. + Wisd. ix, 15,
‘ a
ey
: wi B.
ee ee
IMPERFECTIONS OF PROFICIENTS. 375
tions are not purely spiritual, that is, granted to the mind
alone, as in the case of the perfect, already purified in the
second night of the spirit. In them these raptures and phy-
sical sufferings have no place, for they enjoy liberty of spirit
with unclouded and unsuspended senses. To make it clear
how necessary it is for proficients to enter into the night of
the spirit, I will now proceed to point out certain imper-
fections and dangers to which they are liable.
CHAPTER II.
Of certain imperfections of Proficients.
Proricrents labour under two kinds of imperfections; one
habitual, the other actual. The habitual imperfections are
their affections and imperfect habits which still remain, like
roots, in the mind, where the purgation of sense could not
penetrate. The difference between the purgation of these
and of the others, is like the difference between plucking out
a root, and tearing off a branch, or like removing a fresh,
and an old,stain. For,as I have said, the purgation of sense
is merely the gate and entrance of contemplation, and serves
rather to harmonise sense and spirit than to unite the latter
with God. The stains of the old man still remain in the
mind, though not visible, and if they be not removed by
the strong soap and lye of the purgation of this night, the
mind cannot attain to the pureness of the Divine union.
They suffer also from a certain dulness of mind, and natural
rudeness which every man contracts by sin; a distraction and
dissipation of mind, which must be refined, enlightened, and
made recollected in the sufferings and hardships of this night.
All those who have not advanced beyond the state of pro-
ficients are subject to these habitual imperfections, which
CHAP.
2. Dulness
of mind.
BOOK.
13
Actual im-
perfections of
Proficients.
1. Self-
deception.
2. Pride and
presumption.
376 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
cannot coexist with the perfect State of Union with God in
love.
But all are not subject to actual imperfections in the same
way; some, whose spiritual goods are so much on the surface,
and so much under the influence of sense, fall into certain -
improprieties and dangers, of which I spoke in the beginning.
For as they admit into their minds and senses so many com-
munications, so that they have frequent imaginary and
spiritual visions—for this happens together with other spiritual
impressions to many of them in this state, wherein the devil
and their own proper fancy delude the soul—and as Satan is
wont with so much sweetness to insinuate, and impress such
things upon them, they are easily deluded and influenced by
him, because they do not take the precaution to resign them-
selves into the hands of God, and defend themselves with all
their might against these visions and impressions. For now
the devil causes them both to believe in vain visions and
false prophecies, and to presume that God and His Saints
are speaking to them: they also frequently believe in their
own fancies.
Now, too, Satan fills them with pride and presumption;
under the influence of vanity and arrogance they make a show
of themselves in the performance of exterior acts which have an
appearance of sanctity, such as ecstasies and other phenomena.
They become bold with God, losing holy fear, which is the
key and guard of all virtue. Many of them become so en-
tangled in manifold delusions, and so inveterate have their
falsehoods grown, that their restoration to the pure road of
virtue and real spirituality is exceedingly doubtful. They
fall into this miserable condition because, too confident in
themselves, they gave way to these spiritual apprehensions
and impressions when they began to advance on the road of
spirituality.
I have much to say of these imperfections, and how much
a ee
VIGIL OF SUFFERING BEFORE THE FEAST OF LOVE. 377
more incurable they are than the others, because they are cmap.
considered as more spiritual than those which preceded them,
but I shall pass on. One thing, however, I must say, to show the Spiritual
how necessary for the further advancement of the soul the *™°°™
Spiritual Night is, that there is no one proficient, however
great may be his exertions, who can be free from many of
these natural affections and imperfect habits, the purification
of which must, as I have said, necessarily precede the Divine
union. Besides, and I have said it before, inasmuch as the
spiritual communications reach also to the lower part of the
soul, they cannot be as intense, pure, and strong, as it is ne-
cessary they should be for the purpose of the Divine union;
and, therefore, if that is to be attained, the soul must enter
the second night of the spirit where—perfectly detaching sense
and spirit from all sweetness and from all these apprehensions
—these communications will guide it on the road of obscure
and pure faith, the proper and adequate means of Union, as
it is written: ‘I will espouse thee to Me in faith,’ * that is,
I will unite Myself to thee in faith.
CHAPTER III.
Introduction.
ProFictents, then, have had experience of these sweet com- true
munications, in order that the sensitive part of the soul, allured sweeties
and attracted by the spiritual sweetness overflowing into the sense with
senses, may be harmonised and united with the spiritual part; EY oue?
both parts having to eat of the same spiritual food, each in its
own way, off the same dish of their one individuality, that
they might be prepared, united and conformed, for the suffer-
ings of the sharp and rough purgation of the spirit which is
* Os, ii, 20,
BOOK
II.
The Sen-
sitive Night
a re-forma-
tion of the
appetite.
‘The Spiritual
Night a
purgation of
sense and
spirit
together.
Necessity of
Courage.
378 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
before them. In that purgation the two parts of the soul,
the spiritual and the sensitive, are to be wholly purified, for
neither of them can be perfectly purified without the other,
and the purgation of sense is then effectual when that of the
spirit commences in earnest. Hence it follows that the night
of sense may and should be called a certain re-formation and
bridling of the appetite rather than purgation, because all the
imperfections and disorders of the sensitive part having their
strength and roots in the mind, can never be wholly purged
away until the evil habits, rebelliousness and perverseness of
the mind are corrected. Therefore, in this night ensuing,
both the parts of the soul are purified together: this is the
end for which it was necessary to have passed through the ©
re-formation of the first night, and to have attained to that
tranquillity which is its fruit, in order that, united together
in spirit, they may both be purified and suffer together with
the greater courage, most necessary for so violent and sharp a
purgation. For if the weakness of the inferior part be not
redressed, and if it have acquired no courage in God, in the
sweet communions with Him subsequently enjoyed, nature
would have given way, unprepared for the trials of this night.
The intercourse of proficients with God is still most mean,
because the gold of the spirit is not purified and refined.
They think and speak of Him as children, and their feelings
are those of children, as described by the Apostle: * When
I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child,
I thought as a child;’* because they have not yet reached
Perfection, which is Union with God in love. But in the
state of perfection, having grown to manhood, they do great
things in spirit—all their actions and all their faculties
being now rather Divine than human, as I shall hereafter
explain — for God is stripping them of the old man, and
* 1 Cor, xiii, 11,
ENTRANCE INTO THE SECOND, THE SPIRITUAL NIGHT. 379
putting on the new, as it is written: ‘Put on the new man, omar.
who is created according to God;’* and again, ‘ Be reformed
in the newness of your mind.’t He now denudes the fa- ‘he fnal
culties, the affections, and feelings, spiritual and sensitive,
interior and exterior, leaving the intellect obscure, the will
dry, the memory empty, the affections of the soul in pro-
foundest affliction, bitterness, and distresss— withholding
from the soul the former sweetness it had in spiritual things,
that this privation may be one of the principles, of which the
mind has need, in order that the spiritual form of the spirit,
which is the union of love, may enter into it and be one with it.
All this our Lord effects in the soul by means of this pure
and obscure contemplation, as it is described in the first
stanza. True, I have explained that in the beginning of my
work, on the night of sense, yet its chief signification belongs
to this second night of the spirit, because that is the chief
part of the purification of the soul. I shall, therefore, apply
it in this sense, and explain it here again.
CHAPTER IV.
The first stanza spiritually explained.
In an Obscure Night,
With anxious love inflamed.
O, happy lot!
Forth unobserved I went,
My house being now at rest.
Taxkine these words, then, with reference to purgation, con- paraphrase
templation, or detachment, or poverty of spirit— these are, as cana
it were, one and the same thing—they may be thus explained. fo the second
In poverty, unsupported by any apprehensions, in the ob-
security of the intellect, in the conflict of the will, in the afflic-
tion and distress of memory, lost in the obscurity in pure faith,
* Ephes, iv. 24, + Rom, xii. 2,
BOOK
Il.
'Transforma-
tion of
Memory,
Intellect and
Will in the
Night of
the Spirit.
Night of the
Spirit,—its
definition,
380 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
which is the Obscure Night of all the natural faculties, the
will alone touched by grief and affliction, by the anxieties
of my love of God, I went forth out of myself, out of my low
conceptions and lukewarm love, out of my scanty and poor
sense of God, without being hindered by the flesh or the
devil.
This was to me a great blessing, a happy lot, for by anni-
hilating and subduing my faculties, passions, and affections
—the instruments of my low conceptions of God—I went
forth out of the scanty intercourse and operations of my own
to those of God; that is, my intellect went forth out of itself,
and from human became Divine, for united to God in that
purgation, it understands no more within its former limits
and narrow bounds, but in the Divine Wisdom to which
it is united.
My will went forth out of itself transformed into the
Divine will, for now, united with the Divine love, it loves no
more with its former scanty powers and circumscribed ca-
pacity, but with the energy and pureness of the Divine
Spirit. Thus the will acts no more in the things of God in
a human way, and the memory also is transformed into the
eternal apprehensions of glory. Finally, all the energies and
affections of the soul are, in this night and purgation of the
old man, renewed into a Divine temper and delight.
CHAPTER V.
Obscure Contemplation is not a night only, but pain and torment also
for the soul.
In an Obscure Night.
Tus Obscure Night is a certain inflowing of God into the soul,
which cleanses it of its ignorances and imperfections, habitual,
natural, and spiritual. Contemplatives call it infused con-
templation, or Mystical Theology, whereby God secretly
~
THE IMPERFECT SOUL OBSCURES GOD. 381
teaches the soul and instructs it in the perfection of love,
without efforts on its own part beyond loving attention to
God, listening to His voice and admitting the light He
sends, without understanding how this is infused contem-
plation. It is the loving Wisdom of God that produces
special effects in the soul, for it prepares it, by enlightening
it for union with God in love: that loving Wisdom, which
by enlightening purifies the blessed spirits, is that which here
purifies and enlightens the soul.
But it may be said: Why do we call the Divine Light,
which enlightens the soul and purges it of its ignorances, the
Obscure Night? I reply, that the Divine Wisdom is, for two
reasons, not night and darkness only, but pain and tor-
ment also to the soul. The first is, the Divine Wisdom is so
high that it transcends the capacity of the soul, and therefore
is, in that respect, darkness. The second reason is based on
the meanness and impurity of the soul, and in that respect
the Divine Wisdom is painful to it, afflictive and obscure also.
To prove the truth ofthe first reason we assume a principle
of Philosophy, namely, the more clear and self-evident Divine
things are, the more obscure and hidden they are to the soul
naturally. Thus the more clear the light the more does it
blind the eyes of the owl, and the stronger the sun’s rays the
greater the darkness of our visual organs; for the sun, in its
own strength shining, overcomes them, by reason of their
weakness, and deprives them of the power of seeing. So
when the Divine light of contemplation shines into the soul,
not yet perfectly enlightened, it causes spiritual darkness,
because it not only surpasses its strength, but because it
obscures it and deprives it of its natural perceptions.
It is for this reason that S. Dionysius and other Mystic
Theologians call infused contemplation a ray of darkness,
that is, for the unenlightened and unpurified soul, because
the great supernatural light of contemplation overcomes the
CHAP.
Vv.
The Will
passive save
to consent
and attend,
called Night ?
Answer.
1. It is dark
to imperfect
faculties
from excess
of light. ,
8. Dionysius,
BOOK
Il.
2. It is pain-
ful from the
meeting of
contraries.
First pain,—
Darkness of
Self revealed
. in the Light
of God.
382 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
forces of the natural intellect and deprives it of its natural
way of understanding. David also hath said the same thing:.
‘Clouds and darkness are round about Him;’* not that this
is so in reality, but in reference to our weak understanding,
which, in light so great, becomes obscure and blind, unable
to ascend so high. And in another place the same truth is
declared : * At the brightness that was before Him the clouds
passed ’f between Him and our understanding. This is the
reason why the illuminating ray of hidden Wisdom, when
God sends it from Himself into the soul not yet transformed,
produces obscure darkness in the intellect.
This obscure contemplation is, in its beginnings, painful
also to the soul. For as the infused Divine contemplation
contains many excellences in the highest degree, and the
soul, which is the recipient, because not yet pure, is involved
in many miseries, the result is—as two contraries cannot
coexist in the same subject—that the soul must suffer and be
in pain, being the subject in which the two contraries meet,
and resist each other because of the purgation of the soul
from its imperfections, which is being effected by contem-
plation. I shall show this to be the case by the following
induction.
In the first place, because the light and wisdom of con-
templation is most pure and clear, and because the soul,
within which it shines, is impure and dark, that soul which
is the recipient must greatly suffer. Eyes afflicted by humours
suffer pain when the clear light shines upon them; and the
pain of the soul, by reason of its impurity, is immense when
the Divine light shines upon it. And when the rays of this
pure light strike upon the soul, in order to expel its impuri-
ties, the soul perceives itself to be so unclean and miserable
that it seems as if God had set Himself against it, and itself
* Ps. xevi. 2. F Ibe -xvni. 13.
. a
ae
GOD PAINFUL TO THE IMPURE WEAK SOUL. 383
were set against God. So grievous and painful is this feeling
—for the soul feels as if God had abandoned it— that it was
one of the heaviest afflictions of Job when he was in his trial.
‘Why hast Thou set me opposite to Thee, and I am become
burdensome to myself?’* The soul sees distinctly in this
clear and pure light, though obscurely, its own impurity,
and acknowledges its own unworthiness before God and all
creatures. And what pains it still more is the fear it has that
it will never cease to be unworthy, and that all its goodness
is gone. This is the fruit of that profound depression, under
which the mind labours, in the knowledge and sense of its
own wickedness and misery. For now the Divine and obscure
light reveals to it all its wretchedness, and it sees clearly that
of itself it can never be otherwise. To the same effect are
the following words of the Psalmist: ‘For iniquities Thou
hast chastised man, and Thou hast made his soul pine away
as a spider.’ f
In the second place, the pain of the soul has its sources in
its natural and spiritual weakness; for when the Divine con-
templation flows within it with a certain vehemence, in order
to strengthen it and subdue it, it is then so pained in its
weakness as almost to faint away, particularly at those times
when the Divine contemplation seizes upon it with a greater
degree of vehemence; for sense and spirit, as if bowed down
by a heavy and dark burden, suffer and groan in agony so
great that death itself would be a relief. This was the
experience of Job when he cried, ‘I will not that He contend
with me with much strength, nor that He oppress me with
the weight of His greatness.’{ The soul bowed down by
this burden of oppression feels itself so removed out of God’s
favour that it thinks — and it is so in truth — that all things
which consoled it formerly haye utterly failed it, and that no
* Job vii. 20. + Ps, xxxviii. 12. { Job xxiii, 6.
CHAP.
Nv.
Examples of
Job and
David.
of self felt
under the
strength of
God,
BOOK
Il.
To the weak
soul the
gentle hand
of God feels
heavy.
Third pain,
—Loss of God
felt in
conscieous un-
worthiness,
Death before
the new life.
384 - THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
one is left to pity it. Job, in like circumstances, has said,
‘Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, at least you
my friends, because the hand of the Lord hath touched
me.’* Wonderful-and piteous sight! So great are the weak-
ness and impurity of the soul that the hand of God, so soft
and so gentle, is felt to be so heavy and oppressive, though
neither pressing nor resting on it, but merely touching it,
and that, too, in mercy; for He touches the soul not to
chastise it, but to load it with His graces.
CHAPTER VI.
Of other sufferings of the soul in this night.
Tue third suffering and affliction of the soul is the conse-
quence of the meeting of the two extremes together — the
human and the Divine: the latter being the purgative con-
templation; the human, being the soul itself. When the
Divine touches the soul to renew it and to ripen it, so as to
make it Divine, to detach it from its habitual affections and
qualities of the old man, to which it clings and adheres most
closely, it so breaks and bruises it, swallowing it up in pro-
found darkness, that the soul seems to perish and waste
away, at the sight of its own wretchedness, by a cruel spiritual
death. It feels as if it were.swallowed up and devoured by a
wild beast, suffering the pangs of Jonas in the belly of the
whale. For it must lie buried in the grave of this obscure
death that it may attain to the spiritual resurrection for
which it hopes. David describes the nature of this pain and
suffering —though it really baffles description — saying,
‘The sorrows of death surrounded me . . . the sorrows
, sop xix, 21.
THE DESCENT INTO HELL. 385
of hell encompassed me. . . . In my affliction I called upon
the Lord, and I cried to my God.’*
But the greatest affliction of the soul in this state is the
thought that God has abandoned it, of which it has no donedby
doubt ; that He has cast it away into darkness as an abominable
thing. This belief in its own abandonment is a most grievous
and pitiable affliction. David experienced the same trials
when he said, ‘Like the slain sleeping in the sepulchres,
of whom Thou art mindful no more; and they are cast off
from Thy hand. They have laid me in the lower pit, in the
dark places, and in the shadow of death. Thy wrath is
strong over me; and all Thy waves Thou hast brought in
upon me.’+ For, in truth, when the soul is in the pangs
of purgative contemplation, the shadow of death and the
pains of hell are most acutely felt, for these consist in the
sense of its being without God, that He has abandoned it
in His wrath and has cast it down beneath the burden of
His heavy displeasure. All this and even more the soul
feels, for a fearful apprehension has come upon it that thus
it will be with it for ever. It has also the same sense of
abandonment with respect to all creatures, and that it is an
object of contempt to all, especially to its friends; and so
the Psalmist continues, saying, ‘Thou hast put away my
acquaintance far from me; they have set me an abomina-
tion to themselves.’ t
The prophet Jonas also, as one who had experience of this,
both bodily and spiritually, witnesses to the same truth, saying,
‘Thou hast cast me forth into the deep, in the heart of the
sea, and a flood hath compassed me: all Thy billows and Thy
waves have passed over me. And I said, I am cast away out
of the sight of Thine eyes: but yet I shall see Thy holy
temple again, —this is the purgation of the soul that it may
* Ps, xvii. 5, 6, 7. + Ib. Ixxxvii. 6, 7, 8. t Ib. 9.
VOL. I. cc
BOOK:
II.
Fourth
Sos
Emptiness of
self felt in
the fulness of
God.
386 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF 4HE SOUL.
see God—‘ the waters have compassed me about even to the
soul, the deep hath enclosed me, the sea hath covered my
head. I went down to the lowest parts of the mountains: the
bars of the earth have shut me up for ever.’* The bars of
the earth are the imperfections of the soul which prevent it
from the enjoyment of this sweet contemplation.
The fourth kind of pain is caused by another excellence
peculiar to this Obscure Contemplation, the sense of God’s
Majesty and Greatness. This makes the soul conscious of the
other extreme, its own poverty and misery; and this is one
of the chief sufferings of this purgation. The soul is made
conscious of a profound emptiness, and an utter destitution
of the three kinds of goods, natural, temporal, and spiritual,
which are ordained for its comfort; it sees itself in the
midst of the opposite evils, miserable imperfections and
aridities, its faculties devoid of all apprehensions, and the
spirit abandoned in darkness. And, inasmuch as God is
now purifying it in its sensitive and spiritual substance, in its
interior and exterior powers, it is necessary for it that it
should become empty, poor and abandoned, arid, destitute
and obscured. For the sensitive part is purified in aridities,
the faculties in the absence of all apprehensions, and the
spirit in the obscure darkness.
Now God effects this by means of Obscure Contemplation,
wherein the soul not only suffers from the absence and sus-
pension of all natural support and apprehensions, which is a
most painful trial—like a person held by the throat and
suffocated—but all its affections, and the imperfect habits
contracted in the world, are also purged away, annihilated,
emptied out of it, or consumed within it, as the rust and
mould of metal is burnt away in the fire. But as these
things are most deeply rooted in the soul, the sufferings and
* fons 31.47.
TRIAL OF THE SOUL BY FIRE. 387
interior trials which it has to endure are heavy, and in
addition to the destitution and emptiness, natural and spi-
ritual, of which I have spoken. The words of the Prophet go
are now fulfilled :—* Heap together the bones which I will
burn with fire: the flesh shall be consumed, and the whole
mixture shall be sodden, and the bones shall dry away.’*
This describes the pain which the soul suffers in the sensitive
and spiritual parts when it is in this state of emptiness and
poverty. And so the Prophet proceeds, saying: ‘ Set it also
empty upon hot burning coals, that the brass thereof may
wax hot and be melted; and let_the filth of it be melted in
the midst thereof, and let the rust thereof be consumed.’ f
This is the heavy trial of the soul in the purifying fires of
Contemplation. The Prophet says that, in order to purge
away and consume the filth of the affections which are within
the soul, it is necessary for it, in a certain way to be anni-
hilated and undone, because its passions and affections have
become natural to it. And therefore the soul, because it is
purified in this furnace, like gold in a crucible, according to
the words of Wisdom, ‘as gold in the furnace He hath proved
them,’ t feels itself consumed away in its innermost substance
in this absolute poverty wherein it is as it were lost. This
truth is clearly taught us by the Psalmist, saying: ‘Save me,
O God, for the waters are come in even unto my soul. I
stick fast in the deep mire; and there is no sure standing.
I am come into the depth of the sea: and a tempest hath
overwhelmed me. I am weary of crying, my jaws are
made hoarse, my eyes have failed, whilst I hope in my God.’§
Here God is humbling the soul that He may exalt it
hereafter, and if it were not His will that these feelings, when
they rise, should be quickly lulled again, the soul would
almost immediately depart from the body, but they occur
* Ezech. xxiv. 10. f Ib. xxiv. 11.
t¢ Wisd. iii. 6. § Ps, lxviii. 2—4.
cc2
BOOK
IL.
Purgatory in
this life.
Fifth pain,—
the memory
of past
happiness.
388 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
only at intervals in their greatest violence. They are occa-
sionally so acute, that the soul seems to see hell and per-
dition open before it. They who are in this state, are those
who go down alive into hell, and have their Purgatory in
this life; for this is the purgation to be endured there for
venial sins. And thus he who passes through this state in
the present life, and is purified, either enters not into Pur-
gatory, or is detained there but a moment, for one hour here.
is more than many there.
CHAPTER VII.
The same subject continued. Other afflictions and trials of the will.
Tue afflictions of the will, and its trials here are also im-
mense; they occasionally pierce the soul with a sudden
recollection of the evils that environ it, and of the un-
certainty of any relief. To this is superadded the memory
of past happiness; for souls of this kind, when they enter into
this night have, generally, had much sweetness in God, and
served Him greatly; but now, to see themselves strangers to
so much happiness, and unable to recover it, causes them the
greatest affliction. This was the experience of Job also; for
he said: ‘I sometime that wealthy one, suddenly am
broken; He hath held my neck, broken me, and set me to
Himself as it were a mark. He hath compassed me with
His spears, He hath wounded my loins, He hath not spared,
and hath poured out my bowels on the earth. He hath torn
me with wound upon wound; He hath rushed in upon me
like a giant. I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and
have covered my flesh with ashes. My face is swollen with
weeping, and my eyelids are dim.’* So many and so great
* Job xvi. 18—14,
ANGUISH OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 389.
are the torments of this night, and so many are the illustra-
tions of them furnished ‘by the Holy Writings, that time
and strength would fail me were I to attempt to enumerate
them. For beyond all doubt, all that can be said of them
will fall short, and the illustrations before us will enable us
to form some conjecture as to the others.
And now to conclude the subject of the first line of the
stanza, and to show what this night is to the soul, I will
repeat here what the Prophet Jeremias has said of it: ‘I am
the man that see my poverty in the rod of His indignation.
He hath led and brought me into darkness, and not into
light. Only against me He hath turned again and again
His hand all the day. He hath made my skin and my flesh
old; He hath broken my bones. He hath built round about
me, and He hath compassed me with gall and hardship. In
dark places He hath placed me as the everlasting dead. He
hath built round about against me, that I go not forth. He
hath made my fetters heavy. Yea, and when I cry and ask,
He shutteth out my prayer. He hath shut up my ways
with square stones. He hath made my paths crooked. He
is become to me as a bear-lying in wait; as a lion in secret
places. He hath turned aside my paths, and hath broken
me; He hath made me desolate. He hath bent His bow, and
set me as a mark for the arrow. He hath shot into my reins
the daughters of His quiver. I am made a laughing-stock
to all my people, their song all the day, He hath filled me
with bitterness, He hath inebriated me with wormwood.
And He hath broken my teeth one by one; He hath fed me
with ashes, And my soul is repelled from peace; I have
forgotten good things. And I said: My end and my hope
is perished from the Lord. Remember my poverty and
transgression, the wormwood and the gall. I am mindful
and remember; and my soul languisheth within me,’*
* Lament. ili, 1—20,
Lamentation
of the
Prophet
J .
BOOK
IL.
The suffering
soul worthy
of com-
passion,
It derives no
relief from
spiritual
advice,
390 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
These lamentations of the Prophet, which so vividly depict
the sufferings of the soul, refer to those trials and afflictions —
which come upon it in this purgation and spiritual night.
That soul is worthy of all compassion which God leads into
this dreadful and horrible night. For, although it is well
with it because of the great blessing in store, and of which
this night is the source—since God will raise up good things
for it out of this darkness, and bring light over the shadow
of death, as it is written: ‘He discovereth deep things out of
darkness, and bringeth up to light the shadow of death ;’*
so that His light shall be as extensive as the darkness that is
past ; ‘the darkness thereof and the light thereof are alike,’ fT
—nevertheless, on account ‘of the immense sufferings it
endures, and the great uncertainty of any relief—for it
imagines that its calamities will never come to an end, God
having made it to ‘ dwell in darkness as those that have been
dead of old,’ the spirit is in anguish within it, and ‘the heart
within ’ it ‘is troubled ’—its condition is one of deep suffer-
ing, and greatly to be pitied.
Besides, the soul derives now no consolation from the advice
that may be given it, or from its spiritual director, because
of the loneliness and desolation which overwhelm it in this
obscure night. Though its confessor may set before it in many
ways the grounds of comfort which are to be had in the bless-
ings which these its sufferings imply, yet the soul will not
believe him. For being absorbed in the sense of the evils that
environ it, and seeing clearly its own misery, it imagines that
its spiritual director, not seeing what itself sees and feels,
speaks as he does without comprehending its case. It is
pained anew instead of being comforted, for it considers that
his counsel is no remedy of the evil it suffers from, which is
most true; for no relief, no remedy is possible for that pain
* Job xii, 22. + Ps. exxxviii. 12,
GOD GIVETH SONGS IN THE NIGHT. 891
—this the more so, inasmuch as the soul is powerless here,
like a prisoner in his dark cell bound hand and foot, unable
to move or see, and shut out from all help whatever—
until our Lord shall have accomplished the purgation of the
soul in His own way; until the spirit is softened, humbled,
and purified ; until it becomes so refined, simple, and pure,
as to become one with the Spirit of God in that degree of
the union of love which He in His mercy intends for it, and
corresponding to which is the greater or less violence, the
longer or shorter duration, of this purgation.
But if this purgation is to.be real it will last, notwith-
standing its vehemence, for some years, but admitting of in-
termissions and relief, during which, by the dispensation of
-God, the obscure contemplation divested of its purgative
-form and character, assumes that of the illuminative and of
love. Under this form of it, the soul, like one escaped from
the dungeons of its prison into the comfort of space and free-
dom, enjoys the sweetness of peace, and the loving tenderness
of Godin the flowing abundance of spiritual communications.
This is to the soul a sign of the spiritual health which is
being wrought within by this purgation, and a foretaste of
the abundance it hopes for. So much so is this at times that
it thinks all its trials are over. For such is the nature of
spiritual things, when they are most purely spiritual, that
when trials return, the soul thinks they will never end, and
that all its goodness has perished ; and when it prospers in its
spiritual course it.thinks all its calamities are past, and that
it shall always abound in good things. Thus it was with
David when he said: ‘In my abundance I said; I shall
never be moved.’ *
The reason of this is that the actual enjoyment of one thing
in the mind is inconsistent with the enjoyment of its con-
~ Pi xciz.. 7; J
CHAP,
Vil.
God the only
conso!
Duration and
intermission
392 THE: OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK trary ; but this is not the case quite in the sensitive part of the
soul, because of the weakness of its apprehensions. But as
intense _ the spirit is not yet wholly purified and cleansed from the
ae. affections of the inferior nature, though more resolute and
consistent now, it is still liable to pains, so far as it is under
. the dominion of these affections. This is evident in the life
of David, for when his state changed, he was in affliction
though he had said in the day of prosperity, ‘I shall never
be moved.’ Thus the soul, in the actual enjoyment of spi-
ritual blessings, but not observing the radical imperfections
and impurity which still remain, thinks that all its trials are
ae oon over. This thought, however, is of rare occurrence, for until
conscious _ the spiritual purgation is complete, the sweet communications
ofdsmecs" of God are rarely so abundant as to conceal the root that re-
How one
intense
mains behind, in such a way that the soul shall not be pro-
foundly conscious of some deficiency, or that something still is
tobe done. Nor is the communication such as to allowit to
enjoy the relief that is offered it perfectly, for it feels that there
is an enemy lurking within, who, though he may besubdued and
lulled, will yet return in his strength and assault it as before.
aga And so it comes to pass, for when the soul is most secure
sorrow. it is then plunged at once into another affliction heavier,
darker, and sadder than the previous one, and which, per-
haps, will be of longer continuance. The soul again is con-
vinced that all goodness is gone from it for ever. Experience
cannot teach it: the blessings that flowed out of its former
trials, during which it thought that its sufferings would never
end, cannot prevent it from believing, in its present trials,
that all goodness has perished from it, and that it will never
be again with it as it was before. Its present convictions are
so strong, grounded on actual feelings, as to destroy within
it all the occasions of joy. Thus the soul in this purgation
though it seeks to please God, and is ready to die for Him a
thousand deaths—for souls thus tried love God with great
DISTRACTIONS IN PRAYER. ; 393
sincerity—nevertheless finds no relief, but rather an increase
of pain herein. For seeking God alone to the exclusion of
aught else, and seeing its own miserableness to be so great, it
doubts whether God be not angry with it. It cannot then
persuade itself that there is anything in it worthy of love,
but rather is convinced that there is that in it which should
make it hateful not only in the eyes of God, but of all crea-
tures also for ever; it grieves to see within itself sufficient
grounds why it should be abandoned of Him whom it so loves
and so longs for.
CHAPTER VIII.
Other trials of the soul in this state.
ANoTHER source of affliction and distress to the soul in this
state is that, as the obscure night impedes the exercise of the
faculties and affections, it cannot elevate the mind and affec-
tions to God as before, nor pray to Him. It thinks itself to
be in that state described by the Prophet when he said,
‘ Thou hast set a cloud before Thee, that our prayer may not
pass through.’* This is the meaning of the words I have
quoted before— ‘He hath shut up my ways with square
stones. f If at any time it prays, it prays with so much
aridity, without sweetness, as to think that God neither
hears nor regards it; as the Prophet complains, saying, ‘ Yea,
and when I cry, and entreat, He shutteth out my prayer.’t
And, in truth, this is the time for the soul to put its ‘ mouth
in the dust,’§ suffering in patience this purgation.
It is God Himself Who is now working in the soul, and
the soul is therefore powerless. It cannot pray or give great
attention to Divine things. Neither can it attend to tem-
poral matters, for it falls into frequent distractions, and the
* Lam. iii, 44, + Ih. iii. 9. { Ih. iii. 8. § Ib. iii. 29,
Sixth pain, _
—Inability
to fix the
attention on
Godor-. —
Divine
things.
‘BOOK
i.
Loss of
mental
power.
Faculties of
the soul
absorbed in
God. ©
394 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
memory is so profoundly weakened, that many hours pass
by at atime without its knowing what it has done or thought,
what it is doing or is about to do; nor can it give the least
heed to what it is occupied with, notwithstanding all its
efforts.
Inasmuch, then, as the intellect is purified from its imper-
fect perceptions, the will from its affections, and the memory,
also, from all knowledge and reflections, it is necessary that the
soul should be annihilated herein, according to the words of
the Psalmist, referring to this purgation: ‘I am brought to
nothing, and I knew not.’*. This ‘ knowing not’ extends to
these follies and failures of the memory. These wanderings
and failures of memory are the result of interior recollection,
by which the soul is absorbed in contemplation. In order to
prepare the soul, and temper it divinely in all its powers
for the Divine union of love, it must, first of all, be absorbed
with all its powers in the Divine obscure spiritual light of
contemplation, and detached from all affection for, and
apprehension of, created things. This continues regularly in
proportion to the intensity of its contemplation.
Thus, then, the more pure and simple the Divine light
when it shines on the soul, the more does it obscure it,
empty it, and annihilate it, as to all its apprehensions and
affections, whether they regard heavenly or earthly things.
And also, the less pure and simple the light, the less is the
soul obscured and annihilated. It seems strange to say, that
the purer and clearer the supernatural light the more is the
soul obscured, and that it is less obscured when that light
is less pure. But this may be easily explained, if we keep
in mind the philosophical axiom that supernatural things.
are more obscure to the intellect the more clear they are in
themselves. Thus the ray of high contemplation, transcend-
* Ps, xxii. 22,
THE DARKNESS OF EXCESSIVE LIGHT. 395
ing as it does the natural powers, shining on the soul with
its Divine light, makes it dark, and deprives it of all the
natural affections and apprehensions which it entertained in
its own natural light. Under these circumstances, the soul
is not only left in darkness but in emptiness also, as to its
powers and desires, both natural and spiritual, and in this
emptiness and obscurity is purified and enlightened by the
Divine spiritual light, without its ever thinking of its pre-
sence, but rather thinking of the darkness that surrounds it.
As a pure ray of light, unreflected by any object, is almost
invisible, but becomes visible by being reflected, so the
spiritual light which envelopes the soul is, by reason of its
pureness, invisible or imperceptible; but when it strikes
against any object, that is, when we use it to discern between
truth and falsehood, or any particular matter relating to per-
fection, it then becomes visible at once, and the soul perceives
it then much more distinctly than it did before it entered
this obscurity. In the same way it perceives the spiritual
light which it has for discerning easily the imperfection
which is present, as in the case of a ray of light, which of
itself is not visible, but which if the hand or any object be
passed across its course, the hand becomes instantly visible,
and the presence of the sun’s light is detected. The soul,
therefore, inasmuch as this light is perfectly pure clear and
universal, disconnected from all particular objects of the
intellect, natural or Divine—its powers are emptied and
annihilated with respect to all such apprehensions — most
easily and comprehensively understands and penetrates within
all things, whether of heaven or of earth, according to the
saying of the Apostle: ‘ The Spirit searcheth all things, yea,
the deep things of God.’* It is to this universal and pure
knowledge those words refer, which the Wise Man spoke by
* 1 Cor, ii, 10.
CHAP,
Vii.
The light of |
light per-
ceptible only
when
Light, love
and liberty
found in the
night of the
spirit.
Illustration
from the
primary
elements of
matter,
396 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
the Holy Ghost, ‘ Wisdom reacheth everywhere by reason of
her purity ;’* that is, because not connected with any parti-
cular object of the intellect or affections, The characteristic
of a mind purified and annihilated as to all particular objects
. of affection and of the intellect, is to have pleasure in nothing
and to have no particular understanding; abiding in empti-
ness, obscurity, and darkness; embracing all things in its
grand comprehensiveness; fulfilling mystically the words of
the Apostle, ‘having nothing and possessing all things,’ f for
such poverty of spirit merits such a blessing.
CHAPTER IX.
How it is that this Night enlightens the mind while it brings darkness
over it,
Ir remains for me now to explain that this blessed night,
though it obscures the mind, does so only to enlighten it; and
though it humbles it and makes it miserable, does so only
for the purpose of exalting and setting it free; and though
it impoverishes it and empties it of all it holds, it does so
only to enable it to reach forward divinely to the possession
and fruition of all things, both of heaven and earth, in per-
fect liberty of spirit. As the primary elements which enter
into the composition of all natural substances have no colour,
taste, nor smell peculiar to themselves, so that they shall
combine with all colours, all tastes, and all smell, so the
mind must be pure, simple, and detached from all natural
affections, actual and habitual, in order that it may freely
participate in the largeness of spirit of the Divine Wisdom,
wherein by reason of its pureness it tastes of the sweetness
of all things in a certain preeminent way. And without this
purgation it is altogether impossible to taste of the abundance
* Wisd. vii. 24, + 2 Cor. vi. 10,
DIVINE ILLUMINATION IN THE SPIRITUAL NIGHT. 397
of these spiritual delights. or one single affection remain-
ing in the soul, to which the mind may cling either habitually
or actually, is sufficient to prevent all perception and all
communication of the interior sweetness of the spirit of love,
which contains within itself all sweetness supremely.
As the children of Israel, merely on account of that single
affection, or remembrance which they retained of the fleshpots
of Egypt, could not taste the delicious bread of angels, the
manna in the desert, which had ‘the sweetness of every
taste,’ and ‘turned to what ever man liked,’ * so the mind
which still clings actually or habitually to any one affection
or particular mode of apprehending, cannot taste the sweet-
ness of the spirit of liberty, according to the desire of the
wil]. The reason is this: the affections, feelings, and appre-
hensions of the perfect spirit, being of so high an order and
specially Divine, are of another and different kind than those
which are natural, and in order to be actually and habitually
enjoyed, require the annihilation of the latter. It is there-
fore expedient and necessary, if the soul is to advance to these
heights, that the obscure night of contemplation should anni-
hilate it first, and destroy it in all its meannesses, changing
it into darkness, aridities, loneliness, and emptiness ; for the
light that is given it is a certain Divine light of the highest
nature, surpassing all natural light, and not cognisable by the
natural intellect. If the intellect is to be united with that
light, and become divinely transformed in the state of perfec-
tion, it must first of all be purified and annihilated as to its
natural light, which must be brought actually into darkness
by means of obscure contemplation.
This obscurity must continue so long as it is necessary to
destroy the habit, long ago contracted, of understanding
things in a human way, and until the Divine enlightening
* Wisd. xvi. 20, 21.
CHAP,
One selfish
affection or
apprehension
may make
Perfection
impossible,
BOOK
Il.
aoe iS THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
shall have taken its place. And inasmuch as the power of
- understanding, previously exerted, was natural, the dark-
The soul
prepared by
suffering for
the Spirit of
God.
ness now endured is profound, awful, and most afflictive,
because it reaches to, and is felt in, the innermost depths of
the spirit. And inasmuch as the affection of love, commu-
nicated in the Divine union is Divine, and therefore most ~
spiritual, subtile, delicate, and most interior, surpassing all
natural sense and affection, the imperfectness of the will and
every desire of the same, it is necessary for the fruition, in
the union of love, of this Divine affection and most exquisite
delight, that the will should be first purified and annihilated,
as to all its affections and feelings, left in darkness and dis-
tress proportional to the intensity of the habit of natural
affections it had acquired, in respect both of human and
Divine things. And this must be done, in order that the
will, in the fire of obscure contemplation, wasted, withered,
and deprived of all selfishness—like the liver of the fish on
the burning coals*—may acquire a pure and simple
disposition, a purified and sound taste, so as to feel those
sublime and wonderful touches of Divine love whenever
it shall be divinely transformed, and wherein all its former
contrarieties actual and habitual shall be expelled.
Moreover, in order to attain to the Divine union, for which
obscure contemplation disposes it, the soul must be endowed
and replenished with a certain glorious magnificence in the
Divine communication, which includes innumerable blessings
and joys, surpassing all the abundance which the soul can
naturally possess—so speak the Prophet Isaias and 8. Paul,
‘ Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered
into the heart of man what things God hath prepared for
them that love Him’ t—it is necessary for it that it should
be first brought into a state of emptiness and spiritual
* Tob. viii. 2. + Is. lxiv. 4; 1 Cor. ii. 9.
THE OLD AND THE NEW. 3 399.
poverty, detached from all help and consolation in all the
things of Heaven and earth, that being thus empty it may be
really poor in spirit and divested of the old man, and may live
that new and blessed life to which it attains in this obscure
contemplation which is the state of union with God.
And because the soul is to attain to a certain sense, to a
certain Divine knowledge, most generous and full of sweet-
ness, of all human and Divine things which do‘not fall within
the common-sense and natural perceptions of the soul—it
views them with different eyes now, for the light and grace
of the Holy Ghost differ from those of sense, the Divine from
the human— it is necessary that the mind should be brought
low, and inured to hardships in all that relates to natural and
common sense. It must suffer hardships and afflictions in
the purgative contemplation, and the memory must become
a stranger to all pleasing and peaceful, notions, with a most
interior sense and feeling of being a stranger and a pilgrim
here, so that all things shall seem strange to it, and: other
than they were wont to seem. For this night is drawing the
mind away from its ordinary and common sense of things,
and attracts it towards the Divine sense, which is a stranger
and an alien to all human ways; so much so that the soul
seems to be carried out of itself. At other times it looks
upon itself as if under the influence of some spell, and is
amazed at all that is around it—all that it hears and sees;
which seem to it to be most strange, though in reality always
the same. The sources of this feeling are that the soul has
become a stranger to the ordinary sense of things, in order
that being brought to nothing therein, it might be formed
divinely anew. Now this belongs more to the next life than
to this.
_ The soul suffers these afflictive purgations of the spirit that
it may be born again to the life of the spirit through the Divine
influence, and in these pangs bring forth the spirit of salva-
The soul—
an exile in
the world—
at home in
God.
BOOK
II.
400 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
tion, fulfilling the words of the Prophet: ‘ So are we become
in Thy presence, O Lord. We have conceived, and been as it .
were in labour, and have brought forth the spirit’ * of salva-
tion. Moreover, as the night of contemplation disposes the
soul for that tranquillity and interior peace which is so full
of delight as, in the words of Scripture, to ‘ surpass all under-
standing,’ t it is necessary:that the former peace of the soul,
which, because involved in so many imperfections, was no
peace, though it seemed to be a twofold peace, namely, of
sense and spirit, should first of all be purified, and the soul
disturbed and repelled from that imperfect peace, as Jeremias
felt and lamented in the words cited before to express the
trials of the night that is now past, namely: ‘My soul is
repelled off from peace.’ t
This is a painful unsettling, full of misgivings, imagina-
tions, and interior struggles, in which the soul, at the sight
and in the consciousness of its own misery, imagines itself to
be lost, and all its goodness to have utterly perished. In
this state the mind is pierced by sorrow so profound as
to occasion spiritual groans and cries; at times it gives
audible vent to them and tears break forth, if there be any
strength left, though this relief is but rarely granted. The
royal Prophet has well described this state, being one who
had experience of it, saying, ‘I am afflicted and humbled -
exceedingly; I roared with the groaning of my heart.’ § This
proceeds from great sorrow; for sometimes the sudden and
sharp recollection of the miseries that environ the soul, pro-
duces such pain and suffering that I know not how to de-
scribe them otherwise than by the words of Job: ‘as
overflowing waters so is my roaring.’ || For as waters some-
times overflow, drown and fill all places, so this roaring, this
* Is. xxvi. 17, 18. t Phil. iv. 7.
t¢ Lam. iii. 17. § Ps. xxxvii. 9.
|| Job iii. 24.
LIGHT PAINFUL TO IMPERFECT VISION. 401
sense of pain, occasionally so grows as to overflow the soul
and drown it, so fills all its affections and energies with
spiritual sorrows as to defy all exaggeration.
Such is the work wrought in this night that hideth the
hopes of day. It was in reference to it that Job said, ‘In
the night my mouth is pierced with sorrows, and they that
feed upon me do not sleep.’ * The mouth is the will, pierced
by these sorrows which cease not to tear the soul, neither do
they sleep, for the doubts and misgivings which harass it
give it no rest.
This warfare and combat are deep, because the peace
hoped for is most deep: the spiritual sorrow is most interior,
refined, and pure, because the love to be enjoyed is most
interior and pure. The more interior and perfect the work,
the more interior, perfect, and pure must the labour be that
produces it; and the stronger the building, the deeper the
foundation. ‘My soul fadeth within myself,’ saith Job, ‘and
the days of affliction possess me.’+ So, in the same way,
because the soul has to attain to the enjoyment and posses-
sion, in the state of perfection to which it journeys in this
purgative night, of innumerable blessings, gifts, and virtues,
both in the substance of the soul and in the powers thereof,
it is necessary for it that it should consider and feel itself
deprived of them all, and regard them as so far beyond its
reach as to be persuaded that it never can attain to them,
and that all goodness is perished from it. This is the mean-
ing of those words of the Prophet, ‘I have forgotten good
things.’ t ©
Let us see why it is that the light of contemplation, so
sweet and lovely to the soul that nothing is more desirable
—for it is that whereby the Divine union takes place,
and whereby the soul in the state of perfection finds all
* Job, xxx. 17. + Ib, xxx, 16, t Lam, iii. 17,
VOL. I, D D
Great works
require great
labour.
Beginning of
Contempla-
tion pain-
ful,—why.
BOOK
Il.
Self the cause
of suffering.
Analogy of
the action of
402 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
the good it desires—produces these painful beginnings and
awful results? The answer is easy, and is already given in
part; this is not the effect of contemplation and the Divine
inflowing, from which comes sweetness rather than pain. The
cause is in our imperfection and weakness, and in the dis-
positions of our soul, which is not fit for the reception of that
sweetness. And so, when the Divine light shines in upon the
soul, it makes it suffer in the way described.
CHAPTER X.
Explanation of this purgation by a comparison.
To make what I have said, and what I have still to say, more
clear, I find it necessary here to observe that this purgative and
loving knowledge, or Divine light, is to the soul which it is
purifying, in order to unite it perfectly to itself, as fire is to
fuel which it is transforming into itself. The first action of
material fire on fuel is to dry it, to expel from it all water and
all moisture. It then blackens it and soils it, and drying it by
little and little, makes it light and consumes away its acci-
dental defilements which are contrary to itself. Finally, having
eated and set on fire its outward surface, it transforms the
whole into itself, and makes it beautiful as itself. Thus fuel
subject to the action of fire retains neither active nor passive
qualities of its own, except bulk and specific weight, and
assumes all the qualities of fire. It becomes dry, then it glows,
and glowing, burns; luminous, it gives light, and burns much
lighter than before. All this is the effect of fire.
We theorise in this way concerning the Divine fire of con-
templative love which, before it unites with, and transforms
the soul into itself, purges away all its contrary qualities.
It expels its impurities, blackens it and obscures it, and renders
its condition apparently worse than it was before. For while
THE CONSUMING FIRE OF GOD’S LOVE. — 403
the Divine purgation is removing all the evil and vicious
humours, which, because so deeply rooted and settled in the
soul, were neither seen nor felt, but now, in order to their
expulsion and annihilation, are rendered clearly visible in the
obscure light of the Divine contemplation, the soul—though
not worse in itself, nor in the sight of God—seeing at last
what it never saw before, looks upon itself not only as un-
worthy of the Divine regard, but even as a loathsome object
in the eyes of God.
The comparison which I have instituted will enable us to
understand what I have said, and what I purpose still to say.
In the first place, we see how that very light, and that
loving knowledge which unites the soul and transforms it
into itself, is the same which purifies and prepares it; for
the fire that transforms the fuel and incorporates it with itself,
is the very same which also at the first prepared it for that end.
In the second place, the sufferings of the soul here do not
proceed from the Divine Wisdom—it being written, ‘ All good
things came to me together with her,’ *—but from its own
weakness and imperfection, from its being incapable, previous
to its purgation, of receiving this Divine light, sweetness, and
delight. This is the source of its sufferings. So the fuel,
too, is not transformed into fire, at the instant of their con-
tact, if it be not previously prepared for burning.
This is the experience of the Wise Man, who thus describes
his sufferings before his union with, and possession of, wisdom :
_ €My entrails were troubled in seeking her; therefore shall I
possess a good possession.” f
In the third place we learn incidentally how souls suffer in
Purgatory. The fire would have no power over them if they
were perfectly prepared for the kingdom of God, and union
with Him in glory, and if they had no faults to expiate,
* Wisd. vii. 11, + Ecelus, li. 29,
DD2
3. And cause
of Pur-
gatory.
—s
0) + ne
404 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK which are the matter on which that fire seizes; for when that.
matter is consumed there is nothing more to burn. So is it”
here, when all imperfections are removed, the suffering of
the soul ceases, and in its place comes joy as deep as itis
possible for it to be in this life.
4. Trans- = ‘In the fourth place, we learn that the soul, the more it is
jovsaawion” Purified and cleansed in the fire of love, the more it glows
by suffering. with it. The more the fuel is prepared for the fire the more
it burns; though the soul is not always conscious of this
burning of love within it, but only now and then, when the
ray of contemplation shines upon it not so strongly. Then the
soul is enabled to see, and even to enjoy, the work that is
going on; it seems as if the hand of the artificer was with-
drawn from the work, and the iron taken out of the furnace,
so as to: show in some measure the work that is being
wrought. Then, too, the soul may see in itself that good
which it could not see while the process was going on. Thus,
when the flame ceases to envelope the fuel it burns, we see
clearly how much of it has been enkindled.
pe In the fifth place we learn how it is that, after alleviations
sufferings. of its pains, the soul suffers again more intensely and sensibly
than before, For after the manifestation of the work
that has been done, when the outward imperfections have
been expelled, the fire of love returns again to purge and
consume away that which is interior. Now the suffering of
the soul becomes more penetrating, deep, and spiritual, ac-
cording as it refines away the more profound, subtle, and-
deeply rooted interior imperfections of the spirit. It is here
as with the fuel in the fire, the deeper the fire penetrates the
greater is its force and energy in disposing the inmost sub-
stance of the fuel for its own possession of it.
6. The soul, In the sixth place, we learn that the soul, though it rejoices
remaining jntensely in these intervals of peace—so much so that it seems
imper-
fections, to think its trials over, never to return, even while it is cer-
<: ms ~s a Petar if Pigg : a ry - :
SPIRITUAL SUFFERING PERFECTS LOVE. 405
tain that they will soon recur again—cannot but feel, if it cmap.
observes a single root of imperfection behind—and that is
sometimes observed—that its rejoicing is incomplete. It
seems as if that root threatened to spring up anew, and when
that is the case, it does so quickly. Finally, that which still
remains to be purified and enlightened within cannot now be
concealed from the soul in the presence of what has been
already purified. Thus that portion of the material fuel which
is still to be set on fire is very different from that which the
flame has purified. And when this purgation commences
anew in the inmost soul, it is not strange that it should con-
sider all its goodness to have perished, and that it can never
recover its former prosperity ; for in these most interior
sufferings all exterior goodness becomes invisible.
Keeping this illustration, then, before our eyes, and re-
membering what I have said, on the first line of this stanza,
concerning this obscure night and its fearful characteristics, <o Domine,
it may be as well to abandon the subject of these afflictions mon?
of the soul, and to enter on the matter of the fruit of its tears
and their blessed issues, celebrated by the soul in the follow-
ing lines.
CHAPTER XI.
A vehement passion of Divine Love the fruit of these sharp afflictions
of the soul.
With anxious love inflamed.
Here the soul speaks of the fire of love which, in the night Foretaste of
of painful contemplation, seizes upon it as material fire on pightot
the fuel it burns. This burning, though to a certain extent
resembling that which takes place in the sensitive part of the
soul, is still, in one sense, as different from it as the soul is
different from the body, the spiritual from the sensitive. For
BOOK
Love of God
406 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
this is a certain fire of love in the spirit whereby the soul, in
its dark trials, feels itself wounded to the quick by a cer-
tain impression and foretaste of God, though it understands
nothing distinctly, because the intellect is in darkness.
The mind is now conscious of a deep affection of love, for
this spiritual burning produces the passion of it. And inas-
much as this love is infused in a special way, the soul corre-
sponds only passively with it, and thus a strong passion of
love is begotten within it. This love has in it something
of the most perfect union with God, and thus partakes in
some measure of its qualities, which are chiefly actions of
God, in the soul rather than of the soul, which is consenting
unto them in simplicity and love. It is, however, the love
of God only which, uniting itself with the soul, produces
this warmth and force and temper and passion, or, as the
soul calls it, burning. The more the desires-are restrained,
subdued, and disabled for the enjoyment of the things of
heaven and earth, the more space does this love find for
itself in the soul, and better dispositions for its reception,
so that it may unite itself with that soul, and wound it.
This takes place during the dark purgation in a wonderful
way, for God has so weaned the faculties, and they are now
so recollected in Him, that they are unable to take pleasure
as they like in anything whatever,
All this is the work-of God; wrought with a view to
withdraw the faculties of the soul from all objects whatever,
and to concentrate them upon Himself, so that the soul may
acquire greater strength and fitness for the strong union
of love which God is communicating in the purgative way;
and in which the soul must love Him with all its strength,
with all the desires of sense and spirit, which it could never
do if the faculties thereof were dissipated by other satisfac-
tions. The Psalmist prepared himself thus for the strong
love of the Divine union, for he said, ‘I will keep my
or,
FULFILMENT OF THE LAW OF LOVE. 407
strength for Thee;’* that is, all my capacity, all the energy
of my faculties and my desires, neither will I suffer them
to rejoice in anything but Thee. .
Here we may perceive, in some degree, how great and
how vehement is this burning of love in the spirit when God
gathers and collects together all the strength, faculties, and God.
desires of the soul, spiritual and sensitive, so that their har-
monious combination may direct all its energies and all its
forces towards the real and perfect fulfilment of the first
commandment of the law, which comprehends within its
scope the whole nature and gifts of man; namely, ‘ Thou
shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with
thy whole soul, and with thy whole strength.’ t
When all the desires and energies of the soul are thus
recollected in this burning of love, and the soul itself
touched, wounded, and set on fire with love, in them all,
what must the movements and affections of these desires
and energies be when they are thus wounded and burning
with love, when that love does not satiate them, when they
are in darkness and doubt about it, and suffering also,
beyond all question, a more grievous hunger after it, in
proportion to the past experience of it? For the touch of
this love and of the Divine fire so dries up the spirit, and en-
kindles its desires for satisfying its thirst, that it turns upon
itself a thousand times, and longs for God in a thousand
ways, as. David did when he said, ‘For Thee my soul hath
thirsted, for Thee my flesh, O how many ways;’{ that is, in
desire. Another version reads, ‘ My soul thirsteth after Thee,
my soul is dying for Thee.’
This is the reason why the soul says, ‘ With anxious love
inflamed.’ In all its works and thoughts, employments and
opportunities, the soul loves in many ways and longs after
* Ps, lviii. 10. + Deut. vi. 5. t Ps, Ixii. 2.
No satiety in
Divine love.
BOOK
pa by
Anxious
’ longing of
the soul for
God.
Its two
causes,—
1. Spiritual
darkness.
2. Infused
Love of God.
408 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
God. This longing is so manifold in its forms, always and
everywhere abiding, that the soul has no rest, feeling itself
to be wounded, inflamed with anxiety; its then state is thus
described by holy Job: ‘ As a servant longeth for the shade,
as the hireling looketh for the end of his work, so I also
have had empty months, and have numbered to myself
wearisome nights. If I lie down to sleep, I shall say, When
shall I arise? and again I shall look for the evening, and
shall be filled with sorrows even till darkness.’* The soul
is in perplexity, it cannot comprehend itself, neither the
things of Heaven nor of earth, and is filled with sorrows even _
till darkness, which—taking the words of Job in their
spiritual sense, adapted to the subject before us—is pain
and suffering, without the hope of light, or of any spiritual
good.
The anxieties of the soul while on fire-with love is very
great, because of their twofold origin: the spiritual darkness
which envelopes it is one, and that afflicts it with doubts
and misgivings. The Love of God itself which burns within
it is the other, and that inflames it marvellously, and
excites it through the loving wound it has inflicted upon it.
These two and simultaneous anxieties are thus referred to
by the Prophet: ‘My soul hath desired Thee in the night;’
that is, in my misery. This is one kind of pain which
proceeds from the obscure night, ‘ Yea, and with my spirit
within me in the morning early I will watch to Thee.’ f
This is the other suffering of desire and anxiety, which pro-
ceeds from love, in the bowels of the spirit; that is, the
spiritual affections. The soul, however, is conscious, amidst
these obscure and loving anxieties, of a certain companion-
ship therein and interior strength, which is so great that, if
the burden of this oppressive obscurity were removed, it
* Job vii. 2—4. t+ Is. xxvi. 9.
= re ees wee ly 7 s
PURGATORY OF LOVE AND OF FIRE. 409
would oftentimes feel itself desolate, empty, and weak. map.
The reason is that the force and courage of the soul flow
passively from the obscure fire of love; and so, when that
fire ceases to envelope it, the darkness, the strength, and
fire of love cease at the same time.
CHAPTER XII.
How this awful night is like Purgatory. How the Divine Wisdom
illuminates men on earth with that light in which the Angels are
purified and enlightened in Heaven.
Waar I have said enables us to see how the obscure night Heol
of loving fire purifies the soul in the darkness, and in the
darkness also sets it on fire. We shall also see that, as the
dark and material fires in the next life, so the loving,
dark, and spiritual fires here, purify and cleanse the pre-
destinate. The difference is that in the next world men are Difference
purified by fire, and here, purified and enlightened by love, them.
David prayed for this love when he said, ‘ Create a clean
heart in me O God!’* for cleanness of heart is nothing else Cteanness _
but the love and grace of God. ‘ Blessed are the clean of what.
heart,’ saith our Saviour, and it is as if he had said, blessed
are those who love, for blessedness can come of nothing less
than love.
The following words of the Prophet also, ‘From on high
He hath cast a fire in my bones, and hath taught me,’ t show
plainly that the soul is purified and enlightened in the fire
of loving wisdom, for God never grants the mystical wisdom ‘he infusea
without love; it being love itself that infuses it into the soul. bre es
David also saith that the wisdom of God is silver tried in the
purifying fire of love: ‘The Words of the Lord are pure
words, as silver tried by fire.’ | Obscure contemplation infuses
* Ps, 1, 12. + Lam. i. 13. + Pa. :xi.:7,
410 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL. —
BOOK into the soul love and wisdom simultaneously, to every one
according to his necessity and capacity, enlightening the soul,
and cleansing it of all its ignorances, according to the words
of the Wise Man, ‘ He hath enlightened my ignorances.’ *
Tnfused love Here, also, we learn that the wisdom which purifies the
eect oe ignorance of the Angels, flowing from God through the
highest, down to the lowest, in the order of the heavenly
hierarchy, and thence to men, is that very wisdom which
purifies and enlightens the human soul. All the works of
the Angels, and all the inspirations they suggest, are, in
Holy Scripture, truly and properly said to be their work and
God’s: for, ordinarily, His inspirations flow through the
angels who receive them, each choir from the other instan-
taneously, as the light of the sun penetrates many windows
at once, arranged one behind the other. It is quite true that,
in one sense, the light ofthe sun pierces all, yet each window
conveys that light to the next, modified according to the
nature of the glass which transmits it, and somewhat weaker,
according to the distance from the sun. Hence it follows,
with respect to the higher and lower Angels, the nearer they
are to God the more they are purified and enlightened in
the general purgation; the lowest in rank receiving their
illumination in a less perfect degree. But man, being lower
than the Angels, must, when God raises him to the state of
. contemplation, receive that enlightenment according to his
capacity in a limited degree, and with suffering. For the
light of God which illumines an angel enlightens him,
and sets him on fire with love, for he isa spirit already pre-
pared for the infusion of that light; but man, being impure
and weak, is ordinarily enlightened in obscurity, distressingly
and painfwlly—as the sun’s rays are painful to weak eyes—
till the fire of love shall have spiritualised and refined him, so
* ¢Tgnorantias meas illuminavit.’ These words have been expunged
from Ecclus. li. 26, by the Roman censure.
_ MORE LOVE, MORE LIGHT. 411
that being made pure like the Angels he may be able to
receive with sweetness the union of God’s inflowing love.
There are souls who, in this life, are more perfectly en-
lightened than even Angels. But, in the meantime, this
contemplation and loving knowledge come upon the soul
through trials and loving anxiety.
The soul is not always conscious of this burning and m
anxiety of love; for in the beginning of the spiritual pur-
gation all the Divine fire is employed in drying up and pre-
paring the soul, rather than in setting it on fire. But when
the soul has become heated in the fire, it then feels most
commonly this burning and warmth of love. And now, as
the intellect is being purified in this darkness, it happens
occasionally that this mystical and affective theology, while
inflaming the will, wounds also by enlightening the other
faculty of the intellect with a certain Divine light and know-
ledge, so sweetly and so divinely, that the will, aided by it,
glows in a marvellous manner, the Divine fire of love burn-
ing within it with living flames, so that the soul appears to
have received a living fire with a living understanding. This
is what David referred to when he said, ‘ My heart waxed
hot within me, and in my meditation a fire shall burn,’ * so
vehemently that I thought it to be already on fire.
This kindling of love, in the union of these two facul-
ties, the intellect and the will, is to the soul a great
treasury of delight, because it is certain that the foundations
of the perfection of the union of love, for which the soul
hoped, are laid in that obscurity. But the soul does not
reach this sublime sense and love of God without passing
through many tribulations, and accomplishing a great part
of its purgation. For other degrees of this union, lower
than this, which are of ordinary occurrence, so intense a
purgation is not required.
* Ps, xxxyiii. 4,
creasing
in holiness is
advancing in
knowledge,
Joy of the
union of
Intellect and
Will in God.
BOOK
a5.
Benefits of
the Spiritual
Night ;
1. Illumina-
tion of the
“ntellect.
2. Pure
spiritual
affections of
the Will.
412 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
CHAPTER XIII.
Other sweet effects of the dark Night of Contemplation.
Tus fire of love throws some light upon the sweet effects
wrought in the soul by the obscure Night of Contemplation ;
for occasionally, amid the obscurity, the soul receives light
—‘light shineth in darkness’*—the mystical influence
flowing directly into the intellect, and the will in some
measure partaking of it, with a calmness and pureness so
exquisite and so delicious to the soul as to be utterly in-
describable: now God is felt to be present in one way, and
again in another. Sometimes, too, it wounds the will at the
same time, and enkindles love deeply, tenderly, and strongly ;
for, as I have said, the more the intellect is purified the more
perfectly and exquisitely, at times, are the intellect and the
will united. But, before the soul attains to this state, it is
more common for the touch of the fire of love to be felt in
the will than for the touch of the perfect intelligence to be
felt in the intellect.
This burning and thirst of love, inasmuch as it now pro-
ceeds from the Holy Ghost, is very different from that of —
which I spoke in the night of sense. For though the senses
also have their part in this, because they share in the
afflictions of the spirit; yet the root and living force of the
thirst of love are felt in the higher portion of the soul, that
is, in the spirit — conscious of what the soul feels, and of the
absence of what it desires; still all the pains of sense, though
incomparably greater than those of the sensitive night, are as
nothing, because of the interior conviction that one great
good is wanting, for which there is no compensation possible.
Observe here that, although this burning of love is not felt
in the beginning of the spiritual night, because the fire of love
* S. John i. 5.
“| (= «A + - . ae De
ee
:
LOVE OF DESIRE AND OF APPRECIATION. 413
has not yet done its work, God communicates to the soul, CHAP.
instead of it,so great an appreciative love of Himself that its ————_
greatest trials and deepest afflictions in this night are involved
in the thought which harasses it, namely, that it has lost
God, and that He has abandoned it. It may, therefore, be
said that from the first beginning of this night the soul is full
of anxiety, arising at one time from the appreciation of God,
at another from the burning fire of love; and the greatest of
its sufferings is this doubt: for if it could be persuaded that
all isnot lost, and that the trials it undergoes are, as in truth
they are, for its greater good, and that God is not offended,
it would make no account whatever of its afflictions, but
rather rejoice in them, knowing that it is serving God. For
the appreciation with which it regards God is so great,
though in darkness and unconsciously, that not only would
it endure its trials joyfully, but also die a thousand times to
please Him. But when the fire of love and the appreciation
of God together have seized on the soul, it then gains such
strength and energy, and such eager longing after God, the
effect of this glowing love, that it boldly disregards all
considerations, and sets everything aside, in the inebriating
force of love, and, without reflecting on its acts, it conducts
itself strangely and extravagantly, that it may meet Him
whom it loveth.
This is the reason why Mary Magdalen, though noble Example ot
S. Mary
herself, heeded not the guests, high and low, who were Magdalen
feasting in the house of the Pharisee. She considered not
that her presence was inopportune, and that tears were
unseemly at the feast, provided she could, without delay, or
waiting for another occasion, reach Him for whom her soul
was wounded and on fire.* This is that inebriating force
and daring of love, which, when she knew that her Love was
* S. Luke vii, 37,
414 _ THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL... ~
BOOK in the sepulchre, guarded by soldiers, and a stone rolled over
it and sealed, allowed none of these things to move her; for
she went thither before dawn with the ointments to anoint
her Beloved. And, finally, it was under the inebriating
influence of love that she asked Himself, whom she took for
the gardener, and who, she thought, had robbed the sepulchre,
where he had laid the Body of her Lord. ‘If thou hast
carried Him away, tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I
will take Him away.’* She did not reflect upon the im-
prudence of her words; for it is clear that if the gardener
had stolen the Body he would not have admitted the fact
and the less so, because she intended to take It away
herself.
oo This conduct of Mary Magdalen proceeded from the vehe-
possible. - mence and energy of her love: for love thinks all things
possible, and that all men have interests identical with its
own ; it cannot believe that there is anything to occupy men,
or anything to be sought for by them, except that which
occupies itself, and which itself is seeking, for it considers
that there can be no other occupation or desire beyond its
own. Thus, when the Bride went out into the streets and
broadways of Jerusalem seeking for her Beloved, she, be-
lieving that all were employed, like her, in searching for
Him, adjured them, if they found Him, to tell Him that
she languished with love.f
Ses So strong was Mary’s love that she intended, if the gar-
dener had told her where he had hidden her Lord, to take
Him away, in spite of the prohibition. Of this kind are
those anxieties of love which the soul feels when it has made
some progress in the spiritual purgation. The soul rises by
night, in the purifying darkness, in the affections of the will.
As a lioness or a bear, robbed of its whelps, whom it cannot
Love
inebriates.
* §. John xx, 15. + Cant, iii. 2. v. 8.
eh ee ee.) ee ee
; ea eg
= ~~ a
; ;
LOVE STRONGER THAN DEATH. 415
find, seeks them anxiously and earnestly, so does the wounded
soul seek after God. Being in darkness, it feels His absence,
and is dying of loye. This is that impatient love which no
man can endure long without obtaining his wishes or dying.
It is like that of Rachel, when she said, ‘Give me children,
otherwise I shall die.’*
We have now to consider how it is that the soul, conscious
of its own misery and unworthiness before God, can be so
bold, amid the purifying darkness, as to aspire after union
with Him. The reason is, that love gives it strength to love
in earnest—it being the nature of love to seek for union,
equality, and assimilation with the object beloved, so as to
attain to the perfection of itself. And as the soul has not
yet attained to the perfection of love, because it has not
attained to union with God, the hunger and thirst for that
which it has not—namely union, and the strength which love
communicates to the impassioned will—render it bold and
daring in its wishes, though the intellect, because it is in
darkness, tells at the same time that it is an unworthy and
miserable object.
Iam not disposed here to omit an explanation of the fact
why it is that the Divine light, being always light, does not
illuminate the soul the moment it surrounds it, as it does at
a later time, instead of bringing with it darkness and troubles.
This question has been already partially answered, and I now
answer it more fully. The darkness and misery of which
the soul is conscious proceed not from the Divine light which
shines around it, but are in the soul itself, and it is the light
which enables it to see them. When the Divine light shines
in upon the soul, the soul sees nothing at first but what is
immediately before it, or rather what is within it, its own
darkness and misery. Now, by the mercy of God, it sees
* Gen. xxx. 1,
CHAP,
BOOK
I.
Great m
of God a
restoring
youth to the
soul,
Intellect,
Will and
Memory
born anew
to a super-
. Ratural life,
416 THE OBSCURE NIGHT-OF THE SOUL.
what it saw not before, because the supernatural light had —
not shone round about it. This is the reason why, in the
beginning, the soul is conscious of nothing but of its own
darkness and misery. But when it has been purified by the
knowledge and perception of them, it will have eyes to discern
the blessings of the Divine light; and when its darkness and
imperfections shall have been removed, it will then behold
the great benefits and blessings of this happy night.
This explains how great is the mercy of God to the soul
when He thus purifies it in this strong lye and bitter purga-
tion, as to its sensitive and spiritual parts, from all affections
and imperfect habits in all temporal, natural, sensitive, and
spiritual respects; by obscuring its interior faculties, and
emptying them of all objects, by correcting and drying up all
_ its sensitive and spiritual affections, by weakening and wasting
the natural forces—which the soul never could have done of
itself — by causing it to die, as it were, to all that is not
God, that, being wholly denuded and stripped of its former
clothing, it may clothe itself anew in God. Thus the soul’s
‘ youth shall be renewed like the eagle’s,’* clothed with ‘ the
new man, which according to God is created in justice.’ f
Now this is nothing else but the supernatural light shining
on the intellect, so that the human intellect becomes one
with the Divine. In the same way Divine love so inflames
the will that it becomes ‘nothing less than Divine, loving in
a Divine way, united and made one with the Divine will and
Divine love. The memory also is affected in like manner ;
all the desires and affections too are changed Divinely ac-
cording to God. Thus the soul will be of Heaven, heavenly,
Divine rather than human.
All this, as is clear from what I have said, is the work of
God, who effects it, during this night of the soul, enlighten-
* Ps, ci. 5. t+ Ephes. iv. 24.
i<_
im
THE ESCAPE FROM DOMESTIC ENEMIES. 417
ing it and setting it on fire in a Divine way with an anxious
solicitude for God alone, and for nought besides.
It is with great propriety and justice that the soul repeats
the third line of the stanza, which, together with those that
follow, I repeat again and explain in the following chapter.
CHAPTER XIV.
O happy lot!
Forth unobserved I went,
My house being now at rest.
Tue happy lot sung in the first of these lines is the result of
that which is described in the two lines that follow. ~The soul
describes itself as one who, for the better execution of his pur-
_ pose, goes out of his house by night, in the dark, the inmates
of which being at rest so that none of them could hinder him.
The soul having to perform a heroic and rare action, such as
that of being united to the Beloved, sallies out, because the
Beloved is to be found only without, in solitude. Thus the
Bride desired to find him without: ‘Who shall give Thee to
me for my brother, sucking the breasts of my mother, that I
may find Thee without and kiss Thee?’* It is necessary for
the enamoured soul, in order to obtain the end desired, to act
in the same way; to go out by night when all the inmates of
its house repose and sleep; that is, when all its inferior opera-
tions, passions, and desires are at rest in this night. These
are the inmates of its house which when awake ever hinder
its good, hostile when it attempts to set itself free from
them. These are they to whom our Lord referred when He
said, ‘ A man’s enemies shall be they of his own household.’ f
Thus it is necessary that the operations and motions of
passion and desire should be lulled to sleep in this night in
* Cant. viii. 1. tT S. Matt. x. 36,
VOL. I. EE
The soul
leaves the
house of self
indulgence,
418 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK order that they may not obstruct the supernatural blessings —
cor of union with God in love, for while they continue to
energise and act those blessings are unattainable. All move-
ment and action on their part, instead of helping, hinder
the reception of the spiritual blessing of the union of love,
because all natural exertion is defective with regard to those
supernatural blessings which God alone secretly and silently
infuses into the passive soul. Hence it is necessary that the
powers of the soul should be at rest, if it is to receive what
God infuses, and should’not interfere in the matter with their _
own inferior actions and base inclinations.
It was a happy thing for the soul that God in this night
put those of its household to sleep, that is, all the powers,
passions, affections, and desires which belong to the sensitive
and spiritual part, so that it might attain to the spiritual
union of the perfect love of God ‘unobserved,’ that is, un-
hindered by them, because they were all asleep and mortified
in that night. O how happy must the soul then be, when it
is delivered from the house of its sensitive appetite! None can
understand it, I think, except that soul which has experienced
it. Such a soul clearly sees how wretched was its former
slavery, and how great its misery when it lay at the mercy of
its passions and desires; it learns how that the life of the spirit
is true liberty and riches, involving innumerable blessings,
some of which I shall speak of while explaining the following
stanzas, when it will clearly appear, what good reasons the
soul has for describing the passage of this awful night as a
happy lot.
soul goes
forth to God.
ae). a i ee ee eee ~ ee ee a” Pah eee?
ee es. ot x as Se te as a ye
; 6 .
SECURITY OF THE SPIRITUAL NIGHT. 419
CHAPTER XV.
Explanation of the second stanza.
In darkness and security,
By the secret ladder, disguised,
O happy lot!
In darkness and concealment,
My house being now at rest.
| Tue soul continues to speak of certain characteristics of
the obscurity of this night, again referring to the happiness
: of which it is the cause. It is replying to an implied objec-
tion, and says in substance, let no man suppose that among
the tormenting anxieties, doubts, misgivings, and terrors of
: that night of obscurity, it had run any risk of being lost; yea
, rather, it had found safety in the darkness, because the
obscurity enabled it to escape from its enemies who were
ever impeding its departure. In that obscurity it changed
its garments, and disguised itself in three colours, of which I
shall speak hereafter.* It sallied forth by a most secret
ladder, unknown to the whole of its household—which, as I
shall show, is a living faith—in such secrecy, for the better
execution of its purpose, that it could not possibly be in
greater security; and the more particularly so, because in the
purgative night, the desires, passions, and affections of the
soul are asleep, mortified, and subdued ; and these, if awake
and active, would never have consented to that departure.
CHAPTER XVI.
How the soul journeys securely when in darkness.
In darkness and security.
Tne darkness, of which the soul here speaks, relates, as I
have said,f to the desires, and to the interior sensitive and
| * In ch, xxi. + Ch. iii.
BE 2
CHAP.
XV.
The second
stanza an
answer to an
objection.
420 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK spiritual powers, which are all to be deprived of their natural
Temsorthe Ught in this night; so that, being purified herein, they may
sie jou” be supernaturally enlightened. ‘The sensitive and spiritual
vimal nigh desires are lulled to sleep and mortified, unable to relish
anything either human or Divine: the affections are thwarted
and brought -low, incapable of excitement, and having
nothing to rest upon; the imagination is fettered, and unable
to make any profitable reflections, the memory is gone, the
intellect is obscured, and the will, too, is dry and afflicted,
and all the faculties are empty, and, moreover, a dense and
heavy cloud overshadows the wearied soul, and alienates it,
as it were, from God. This is the obscurity in which the
soul says that it travels securely.
Security The cause of this security is evident: for usually the soul
mortifics- ___ never errs, except under the influence of its desires, or tastes,
or reflections, or understanding, or affections, wherein it
generally is overabundant, or defective, changeable, or incon-
sistent; hence the inclination to what is not becoming it.
It is therefore clear that the soul is secure against error
therein, when all these operations and movements have
ceased. The soul is then delivered, not only from itself, but
also from its other enemies—the world and the devil—who,
when the affections and operations of the soul have ceased,
cannot assault it by any other way or by any other means.
Man E It Bones from this, that the greater the darkness and
Godsaves. emptiness of its natural operations in which the soul travels,
the greater is its security. For as the Prophet saith, ‘ Per-
dition is thine own, O Israel; only in Me is thyhelp.’* The
perdition of the soul is exclusively its own work—the result of
its own operations, of its unsubdued desires, interior and
sensitive—and its good the work of God only. When the soul
is hindered from giving way to these evils, the blessings of
* Os, xiii. 9.
GREATER DARKNESS, GREATER SAFETY. 421
the Divine union descend upon it forthwith, in its desires
and faculties which that union will render heavenly and
Divine. If, therefore, while this obscurity lasts, the soul
will look within, it will see how slightly the desires and the
faculties have been diverted towards vain and unprofitable
matters, and that it is secure against vainglory, pride and
presumption, empty rejoicing, and many other evils. It is
quite clear, therefore, that the soul which is in this obscurity is
not only not lost, but that it gains much, for it acquires virtue.
But here a question arises to this effect: Why is it—seeing
that the things of God are profitable and beneficial to the soul, facuitie
and a source of security—that the desires and faculties are so
obscured by Him in this night that they cannot enjoy Him
or occupy themselves with Him as with other things, but are,
in a certain sense, less able to do so? To this I reply, that
it is then very necessary for the soul to be clear of. its own
operations and devoid of all pleasure even in spiritual things,
because its faculties and desires are base and impure; and
even if they have pleasure in, and are familiar with, Divine
and supernatural things, it can be only in a low way.
It is a philosophical axiom that all that is received is
received according to the condition of the recipient. From
‘this principle it follows that the natural faculties — being
without the requisite purity, strength, and capacity for the
reception and fruition of Divine things in their way, which is
Divine, but only in their own, which is mean and vile —
ought to be obscured with regard to the Divine way, so as to
secure their perfect purgation. They are to be weaned,
purified, and annihilated first, in order that they may lose
their own low mode of acting and receiving, and that they
may be thus disposed and tempered for the reception and
fruition of what is Divine in a lofty and sublime way; but
this they can never do if the old man do not die first. Every
spiritual gift, if it cometh not down from the Father of
—— ee ae ns ee ee Aart.» - «a
oto) Seas. See sen ae aan
“Xo : a 2d. |
422 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
lights into the human will and desire, however much a man
may exercise his taste, desire, and faculties about God, and
however much he may seem to succeed, is still not Divinely
nor perfectly enjoyed.
As to this I might here show, were this the proper place
to do so, that there are many whose tastes and affections, and
the operations of whose faculties, are directed to God and to
spiritual things; who perhaps imagine all this to be super-
natural and spiritual, when in reality it is nothing more,
perhaps, than mere natural and human acts and desires.
As they regard ordinary matters, so also do they regard good
things, with a certain natural facility which they have in
directing their faculties and desires to anything, whatever it
may be. If I can find an opportunity in the course of this
discussion, I propose to enter upon this question, and describe
some of the signs by which we may know when the motives
and interior acts of the soul in the things of God are natural
only, when they are spiritual only, and when they are
natural and spiritual together. It is enough for us to know
that the interior acts and movements of the soul—if they are
- to be divinely influenced by God—must be first of all lulled
The soul de-
livered from
itself and
prepared for
God,
to sleep, obscured and subdued, in their natural state, so far
as their capacity and operations are concerned, until they
lose all their strength. .
O spiritual soul, when thou seest thy desire obscured, thy
will arid and constrained, and thy faculties incapable of any
interior act, be not grieved at this, but look upon it rather
as a great good, for God is delivering thee from thyself,
taking the matter out of thy hands; for however strenuously
thou mayest exert thyself, thou wilt never do anything so
faultlessly, perfectly, and securely as now—hbecause of the
impurity and torpor of thy faculties—when God takes thee
by the hand, guides thee safely in thy blindness, along a road
and to an end thou knowest not, and whither thou couldst
PROGRESS NOT TESTED BY CONSCIOUSNESS. 423
never travel guided by thine own eyes, and supported by thy
own feet. :
The reason why the soul not only travels securely when in
obscurity, but also makes greater progress, is this: In general
the soul makes greater progress in the spiritual life when
it least thinks so, yea, when it rather imagines that it is
losing everything. Having never before experienced the
present novelty which dazzles it, and disturbs its former
habits, it considers itself as losing, rather than as gaining
ground, when it sees itself lost in what it once knew, and in
which it delighted, travelling by a road it knows not, and
in which it has no pleasure. As a traveller into strange
countries goes by ways strange and untried, relying on
information derived from others, and not upon any knowledge
of his own—it is clear that he will never visit a new country
but by new ways which he knows not, and by abandoning
those he knew, so the soul when it advances in the spiritual
life, travels in obscurity, not knowing the way. God Himself,
being the guide of the soul in its blindness, it may well exult
and say, ‘In darkness and security,’ as soon as it has pene-
trated the mystery of its state.
There is another reason also, why the soul has travelled
safely in this obscurity; it has suffered: for the way of suffer-
ing is safer, and also more profitable, than that of rejoicing
and of action. In suffering God gives strength, but in
action and enjoyment the soul does nothing but show its own
weakness and imperfections. And in suffering, too, the soul
practises and acquires virtue, and becomes pure, wiser, and
more cautious.
There is another more particular reason why the soul
travels securely when in obscurity. This reason is derived
from the consideration of the light itself, or obscure wisdom.
The obscure night of contemplation so absorbs the soul, and
brings it so near unto God, as to defend it, and deliver it
CHAP.
XVI.
Four reasons
why the dark
road is safe ;
1. God is the
Guide.
8. The way
enlightened
by Divine
Wisdom.
ae
7 e
424 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK from all that is not God. For the soul is now, as it were,
cides under medical treatment for the recovery of its health, which
health of the is God: God compels it to observe a particular diet, and
to abstain from all noxious things, the very appetite for them
being subdued. The soul is treated like a sick man respected
by his household, who is carefully tended that the air shall
not touch him, nor the light shine upon him, whom the noise
of footsteps and the tumult of servants shall not disturb, and
to whom the most delicate food is given most cautiously by
measure, and that nutritious rather than savoury.
The soul Obscure contemplation, which brings the soul so near unto
guarded by
the obscurity God, is the origin of all these measures, and they are all mea-
Gontempla- sures of security to guard the soul. For in truth the nearer
the soul is to God, the more obscure the darkness, and the more
profound the obscurity, because of the soul’s weakness. The
nearer a man reaches to the sun the greater the darkness and
suffering its light occasions, because of the weakness and im~ -
pureness of his vision. So great is the spiritual light of God,
surpassing all understanding, that the nearer we approach it,
the more does it blindus. This is the meaning of those words
of the Psalmist: ‘ He made darkness the covert, the pavilion
round about Him, dark waters in the clouds of the air,’ * which
is obscure contemplation and the Divine wisdom in souls, of
which they have experience as of a thing near to the pavilion
where He dwells, when God brings them near to Himself.
Thus, what in God is light and supreme splendour, is to man
obscure darkness, as S. Paul saith,f and as the royal Prophet
explains it in the same place: ‘At the brightness that was
before Him the clouds passed,’ + that is, over the human
intellect, ‘the light of which,’ saith the Prophet, ‘is darkened
with the mist thereof.’ §
* Ps, xe. 12.
+ Acts xxii. 11. ‘I did not see for the brightness of that light.’
} Ps. xvii. 13. § Is. v. 30.
:
'-. » 7S 5» -
a
. = — er 7 y com »
THE DARK WATERS CLOSE TO GOD. 425
-O wretched condition of this life wherein the truth is so
hardly known! That which is most clear and true, is to us
most obscure and doubtful, and we avoid it though it
is most necessary for us. That which shines the most, and
dazzles our eyes, that we embrace and follow after, though
it is most hurtful to us, and makes us stumble at every step.
In what fear and danger then must man be living, seeing
that the very light of his natural eyes, by which he directs
his steps, is the very first to bewilder and deceive him when
he would draw near unto God. If he wishes to be sure of
the road he travels on, he must-close his eyes and walk in the
obscurity, if he is to journey in safety from his domestic foes,
his own senses and faculties.
Well hidden and protected then is the soul in the dark
waters close to God. For as the dark waters are a pavilion
for Him, so they are also to the soul perfect safety and pro-
tection, though in darkness, where it is hidden and protected
from itself, and from all the injuries that created things
may inflict. It is of souls thus protected that the Psalmist
spoke when he said: ‘ Thou shalt hide them in the secret of
Thy face, from the disturbance of men. Thou shalt protect
them in Thy tabernacle from the contradiction of tongues.’ *
These words comprehend all kinds of protection; for to be
hidden ‘in the secret of the face’ of God ‘from the dis-
turbance of men,’ is to be strengthened in the obscure
contemplation against all the assaults of men. To be
protected in this ‘tabernacle from the contradiction of
tongues,’ is to be engulfed in the dark water. That soul,
therefore, whose desires and affections are weaned, and whose
faculties are in darkness, is set free from all the imperfec-
tions which war against the spirit, whether they proceed
from the flesh, or from any other created thing. Such a soul
may well say, ‘ In darkness and security.’
"Pa; xxx, 21.
God the Ta-
bernacle of
protection.
426 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
Another reason, not less conclusive, why the soul, though
in darkness, proceeds securely, is derived from that courage
which it acquires as soon as it enters within the dark,
painful, and obscure water of God. Though it be dark,
still it is water, and therefore cannot but refresh and
invigorate the soul in all that is most necessary for it, though
it does so painfully and in obscurity. For the soul imme-
diately discerns in itself a certain courage and resolution to
do nothing which it knows to be displeasing unto God, and
to leave nothing undone which ministers to His service,
because this obscure love is so intensely vigilant and careful
of what it is to do, and what it is to leave undone, for His
sake, so as to please Him. It looks around and considers in
a thousand ways whether it has done anything to offend
Him, and all this with much more solicitude and carefulness
than it ever did before, as I said when speaking of this
anxious love. Here all the desires, all the strength, and all
the powers of the soul, recollected from all besides, direct all
their efforts and all their energies to the service of God only.
Thus the soul goes forth out of itself, away from all created
things, to the sweet and delightsome union of the love of
God, ‘in darkness and in security.’
CHAPTER XVIL
Obscure contemplation is secret.
By the secret ladder, disguised.
I nAvE three things to explain in reference to the three words
of this line. Two of them—‘ secret’ and ‘ladder ’—belong
to the obscure night of contemplation of which I am
speaking, and the third—‘ disguised’—belongs to the way of
the soul therein. As to the first, the soul calls the obscure
contemplation, by which it goes forth to the union of love, a
a aes see * eo . 7 ‘ ST + lye ee
; oo te ? ~1S: ¥ ah, 7
pl bend heey 1, a ~ p.
i = ‘
DIVINE CONTEMPLATION SECRET. 427
secret ladder, and that because of two characteristics of it. CHAP.
First, this obscure contemplation is called secret, because it is, SEES
as I have said before, the mystical theology which Divines The way
call secret wisdom, and which according to S. Thomas is in-
fused into the soul most especially by love, in a secret hidden pe
way in which the natural operations of the intellect and the
other faculties have no share. And because the faculties of
the soul cannot compass it, it being the Holy Ghost Who
infuses it, as the Bride saith in the Canticle,* in an unknown
way, we call it secret.
And, in truth, it is not the soul only that is ignorant here, 2. Andf from
but everyone else, even the devil ; because the Master who now
| teaches the soul dwells substantially within it. This is not
; the only reason why it is called secret, for it is secret also in 8. Hidden in
its effects. It is not only secret beyond the powers of the
soul to speak of it, during the darkness and sharpness of the
a ee
purgation, when the secret wisdom purifies the soul, but
afterwards also, during the illumination, when that wisdom 4. Incapable
of adequate
is most clearly communicated, it is so secret that it cannot be expression.
discerned or described. Moreover, the soul has no wish to
speak of it, and besides, it-can discover no way or similitude
to describe it by, so as to make known so profound an
intelligence, so delicate an infused spiritual impression.
Yea, and if it could have a wish to speak of it, and find terms
to describe it, it would always remain secret still. This
interior wisdom, so simple, general, and spiritual, enters not
into an intellect entangled and covered over by any forms
or images subject to sense, as is sometimes the case, and
therefore the imagination and the senses—as it has not
: entered in by them, nor is modified by them—cannot
. account for it, nor form any conception of it, so as to
speak in any degree correctly about it, though the soul be
distinctly conscious that it feels and tastes this sweet and
* Cant, vi, 11,
~
SS
ation
nn
—
BOOK
nl.
Contempla-
tion beyond
langu:
why ?
Examples of
Jeremias and
Moses.
Difficulties of
Contempla-
tives with
their direc-
tors.
428 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
strange wisdom. The soul is like a man who sees an object
for the first time, the like of which he has never seen before ;
he handles it and feels it, yet he cannot say what it is, or tell
its name, do what he can, though it be at the same time an
object cognisable by the senses. How much less then can we
describe that which does not enter in by the senses ?
Such is the nature of the Divine language, that the more
interior, infused, and spiritual it is,the more it transcends
all human intelligence; the powers of the senses, interior and
exterior, cease, and their harmonies become mute.
The Holy Writings supply both proofs and illustrations
‘of this principle. Jeremias shows the impossibility of re-
vealing and expressing the words of God: for when God
had spoken to him, he knew not what to say, except, ‘Ah,
ah, ah, Lord God.’* Moses, also, is an instance of the in-
terior impossibility, that is, of the interior imaginative
sense, and of the exterior also at the same time: for when
God spoke to him out of the bush, he was not only more
incapable of speaking than before,t but was so ‘terrified’
that he ‘durst not behold;’{ that is, the imagination itself
became weak and silent. The wisdom of contemplation is
the language of God addressed to the soul, purely spiritual,
and the senses are not spiritual, so they do not perceive it,
and so it remains a secret from them, they cannot understand
it nor explain it.
This explains why some persons, walking in this way, good
and timid souls, who, when they would give an account of
their interior state to their directors, know not how to do it,
neither have they the power to do it, and so feel a great
repugnance to explain themselves, especially when contem-
plation is the more simple and with difficulty discernible by
them. All they can say is that their soul is satisfied, calm,
* Jerem, i, 6, + Exod. iv, 10, t Acts vii. 32,
ee
Om
pA ees SS
THE HIDDEN ABYSS OF DIVINE WISDOM. ~ 429
or contented, that they have a feeling of God, and that all
goes well with them, as they think ; but they cannot explain
their state, except by general expressions like these. But it
is a different matter when they have a consciousness of
particular things, such as visions, impressions, and the like,
these in general are communicated under some species, and
the senses participate in them ; in that case they are able to
describe them. But it is not in the nature of pure contem-
plation that it can be described ; for it can scarcely be spoken
of in words, and therefore we call it secret.
This is not the only reason why it is called secret, and
why it is so. There is another, namely, the mystical wisdom
has the property of hiding the soul within itself. For be-
yond the usual degree of this hiding, the soul is sometimes
so absorbed in this secret abyss that it beholds itself dis-
tinctly carried away from all created things to a wild and
profound solitude where no human being can reach it, to an
interminable desert, which is the more delicious, sweet, and
lovely, the more it is profound, vast, and lonely, and the more
secret is the soul, the more it is raised up above all created
things. The abyss of wisdom so exalts and elevates the
soul, bringing it within the course of the science of love,
that it makes it not only understand how mean are all created
things in relation to the Supreme wisdom and Divine sense,
but also, how low, defective, and, in @ certain sense, im-
proper, are all the words and’ phrases by which in this life
we discuss Divine things, and how utterly impossible, by any
natural means, however profoundly and learnedly we may
speak, to understand and see them as they are, were it not
for the light of mystical theology. And so the soul in the
light thereof, discerning this truth, namely, that it cannot
reach it, and still less explain it by the terms of ordinary
speech, justly calls it secret.
This property of being secret, and of surpassing all natural
5. It hides
the soul in
the abyss of
Wisdom.
BOOK
“OS,
6. It leads
the soul to
union with a
idden God.
Contempla-
tion an in-
fnsion of the
secret Wis-
dom of God.
430 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
capacity, belongs to Divine contemplation, not only because it
is itself supernatural, but also because it is the guide of the
soul to the perfections of union with God, which not being
humanly known, we must reach by being divinely ignorant.
For, to use the language of mystical theology, these things
are neither understood nor known when they are sought,
but when they are found and practised. This is the meaning
of the following words of the Prophet: ‘There is none that is
able to know her ways, nor that can search out her paths.’*
The royal Prophet also, speaking of this way of the soul, says:
‘ Thy lightnings enlightened the world, the earth shook and
trembled, Thy way is in the sea, and Thy paths in many
waters, and Thy footsteps shall not be known.’¢ All this in
its spiritual meaning refers to the subject before us.
‘ The lightnings that enlightened the world’ is the illu-
mination of the faculties of the soul in the Divine contem-
plation, the trembling of the earth is the painful purgation
of which it is the cause. To say that the way of God, by
which the soul draws near unto Him is in the sea, and His
paths in many waters, and therefore cannot be known, is to
say that this way to God is secret, and as hidden from the
senses of the soul, as the way of one who walks over the
waters is from the senses of the body, and whose footsteps
cannot be known. The footsteps of God in those souls which
He is drawing to Himself, -making them great in the union of
His wisdom, have also this peculiarity, that they are not
known. ‘Thus we find these words in the book of Job, im-
pressing upon us this truth, ‘ Knowest thou the great paths
of the clouds, and perfect knowledge?’ t By this are meant
the paths and ways of God, in which He makes souls
great and perfect in His wisdom; these are meant by the —
clouds. Contemplation, therefore, by which God guides the
soul, is secret wisdom.
* Baruch iii, 31. T Ps. lxxvi. 19, 20. t Job xxxvii. 16.
r ee
“a
ee ee. ae eS eee eee ee eee ee . = oe eee ee |, - ase
Anes a eS eh ie : . el a
CONTEMPLATION A MYSTICAL LADDER. 431
CHAPTER XVIII.
How this secret wisdom is also a ladder.
I now proceed to the second part, to show how this secret
wisdom is also a ladder. There are many reasons for calling
secret contemplation a ladder. In the first place, as men
employ ladders to mount up to those strong places where
- treasures are laid up, so also by secret contemplation, with-
out knowing how, the soul ascends, and mounts upwards,
to the knowledge and possession of the treasures of heaven.
This is well expressed by the royal Prophet when he says,
* Blessed is the man whose help is from Thee: in his heart _
he hath disposed to ascend by steps, in the vale of tears,
in the place which he hath set. For the Lawgiver shall
give a blessing; they shall go from strength to strength: the —
God of Gods shall be seen in Sion;’* He is the treasure of
the citadel of Sion, that is blessedness.
We may call it a ladder, also, because as the steps of one
and the same ladder serve to descend as well as to ascend regard
by, so those very communications which the soul receives in
secret. contemplation raise it up to God and make it humble
also. For those communications which really come from
God have this property, that they humble and exalt the
soul at one and the same time. In the spiritual way, to
descend is to ascend, and to ascend is to descend, ‘ because
everyone that exalteth himself shall be humbled, and he
that humbleth himself shall be exalted.’t And as the
virtue of humility is greatness, for the trial of the soul
therein, God is wont also to make it ascend by this ladder
that it may descend, and descend that it may ascend; for
thus are fulfilled the words of the Wise Man, ‘ Before
* Ps, lxxxiii. 6, 7, 8. + S, Luke xiv, 11,
BOOK
Il.
3. It ex-
presses the
vicissitudes
of the
spiritual life.
Two condi-
tions of Per-
fection,—
(1) Love of
God
(2) Con-
tempt of self.
The ladder
of Jacob’s
dream,
432 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
destruction the heart of a man is exalted, and before he be
glorified it is humbled.’*
Tf the soul will reflect on the nature of a ladder —I
omit what is spiritual and not felt— it will see at once the
ups and downs of this road; how after prosperity come
storms and trials, so that its previous repose seems to have
been given it to prepare it and strengthen it for its present
sufferings; how, also, after misery and distress come abun-
dance and ease, so that the soul shall seem to have observed a
vigil previous to the feast. This is the ordinary course of the
state of contemplation, for until the soul attains to repose it
never continues in one state; for all is ascending and descend-
ing with it. The reason is that the state of perfection, which
consists in the perfect love of God and contempt of self,
can only subsist on two conditions, the knowledge of God and
of oneself. The soul must of necessity be tried in the one
and the other—=#in the first which exalts it, in the second
which humbles' it— until, perfect habits having been ac-
quired, it ceases to ascend and descend, having arrived at
the summit, united with God, Who is at the top of it, and
on Whom, too, the ladder rests. The ladder of contempla-
tion, which comes down from God, is shadowed forth by that,
ladder which Jacob saw in a dream, and the angels of God
ascending and descending by it, from God to man and from
man to God, Who was Himself leaning upon it.f This took
place by night, when Jacob slept, as the Scriptures declare,
that we may learn from it how secret is the way of God, and
how different from all human conception. This is plain
enough, for, in general, that which is to our greater profit —
the loss and annihilation of self—we esteem a calamity ; and
that which is of but little value— comfort and sweetness,
* Prov. xviii. 12. { Gen. xxviii. 12, 13.
mmc F ¢
Fh ee See
oe
TRN STEPS OF THE MYSTIC LADDER. 433
where, in general, we lose instead of gaining — we look upon
as the more advantageous for us.
But, to speak with more accuracy, and to the purpose, of
the ladder of secret contemplation, I must observe that the
chief reason why it is called a ladder is, that contemplation
is the science of love which is an infused loving knowledge
of God, and which enlightens the soul and at the same time
kindles within it the fire of love till it shall ascend upwards
step by step unto God its Creator; for it is love only that
unites the soul and God. With a view to the greater clear-
ness of this matter, I shall mark the steps of this Divine
ladder, explaining concisely the signs and effects of each,
that the soul may be able to form some conjecture on which
of them it stands. I shall distinguish between them by their
effects with S. Bernard and S. Thomas, and because it is not
possible to distinguish them in this life as they are in their
own nature, because the ladder of love is so secret that it can
be weighed and measured by God only.
CHAPTER XIX.
The mystic ladder has ten degrees. Explanation of the first five
of them.
Tue steps of the ladder of love, by which the soul, ascending
from one to another, rises upwards to God, are ten in number.
The first degree of love makes the soul languish to its
great profit. Here was the Bride when she said, ‘I adjure
you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my Beloved, that
you tell Him that I languish with love.’* This languishing
is not unto death, but for the glory of God; for the soul
faints away as to sin and all things whatsoever that are not
* Cant. v. 8.
‘otc hk. FF
CHAP.
XvVIitl.
4, It is the
science of
love.
Love the uni-
tive virtue.
First :step,—
gishing of
434 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.°
God for God’s sake, as the Psalmist testifies: ‘ My spirit
hath fainted away ’* from all things after Thy salvation ; as it
is more fully expressed in another place: ‘ My soul hath »
fainted after Thy salvation.’t As a sick man loses all appetite
and the taste of his food, and the colour vanishes from his
face, so the soul in this degree of love loses all pleasure in
earthly things, and all desire of them, and, like one in love,
its colour fades away. The soul does not fall into this lan-
guishing state except through the vehement heat which
descends into it from above, which is the mystic fever,
according to the words of the Psalmist, ‘Thou didst send
thine inheritance a free rain, O God, and it was weakened,
but Thou hast made it perfect.’ This languishing and
fainting away of the soul, which is the first and earliest step
to God, I have already explained, when I spoke of that anni-
hilation to which the soul is brought when it begins to stand
upon the ladder of contemplative purgation, when it finds no
comfort, pleasure, nor.support anywhere. In consequence of
which it begins immediately to climb the other steps of the
ladder.
‘ On the second step the soul is unremitting in its search
after God. Thus the Bride sought Him in her bed by night;
she had fainted away there when on the first step of the
ladder, and found Him not. She added, ‘I will rise; I will
seek Him whom my-~ soul loveth.’§ This is now the
unceasing occupation of the soul, ‘Seek ye the Lord,—seek
His face evermore,’ || is the counsel of the Psalmist, and never
rest until He be found; like the Bride who, when she had
questioned the watchmen, passed on in her search, and left
them. Mary Magdalen did not remain even with the
angels at the sepulchre.** So anxious is the soul now that it
* Ps, cxlii. 7. + Ps. exviii. 81, t Ps. Ixvii. 10.
§ Cant. iii. 1, 2. || Ps. civ. 4, { Cant. iii, 4.
** S. John xx. 14.
~ oe eo a
- ~~ ee ney
= — 3 i
~ Ba aes
LOVE ESTEEMS LABOUR AS NOTHING. 435
seeks the Beloved in all things; all its thoughts, words, and
works are referred to Him; in eating, sleeping, and waking,
all its anxieties are about Him, as I have already described it
when speaking of the anxieties of love. As love becomes
strong regaining health, it commences the ascent to the third
step by a new purgation in the night—as I shall hereafter
explain—and which issues in the effects that follow.
On the third step of the loving ladder, the soul worketh,
and is fervent, and faints not. Of this step spoke the royal
Prophet when he said, ‘ Blessed is the man that feareth the
Lord, he shall delight exceedingly in His commandments.’*
If fear, the fruit of love, produces this delight, what will be
the effect of love itself? On this step of the ladder the soul
looks on great things as little, on many as few, and on
length of time as a moment, by reason of the burning fire
which consumesit. It is with the soul as it was with Jacob,
who ‘served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed but
a few days, because of the greatness of his love.’t If the
love of a created being did so much in Jacob, what will the
love of the Creator Himself do, when it shall have taken
possession of the soul on the third step of the ladder ?
Here the soul, because of the great love it has for God, is
in great pain and suffering because of the scantiness of its
service; if it could die for Him a thousand times it would be
comforted. It looks upon itself as unprofitable in all it does,
and on its whole life as worthless. Another most wonderful
effect is that it looks upon itself as being in truth the very
worst of all, for two reasons: first, because its love continues
to show it what God deserves at its hands; and secondly,
because it acknowledges to itself that even the great things it
does for God are imperfect and faulty. Hence confusion of
face and affliction when it compares the meanness of its own
* Pe oxi. I, + Gen. xxix, 20.
FF2
Third step,—
Good works.
Charity isnot
puffed up,—
why.
BOOK
I.
“Amor om-
nia seeva et
i a
prorsus fa-
cilia et prope
nulla efficit.’
The spirit re-
gardless of
the flesh.
Disinterested
love.
436 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
conduct with the Majesty of God. On this third step the
soul is very far from giving way to vainglory or presump-
tion, or from condemning others. These anxious and other
effects of the same kind are wrought in the soul when on the
third step of the ladder, and so the soul acquires strength
and courage to ascend to the fourth.
_ When the soul is on the fourth step of the ladder of love,
it falls into a state of suffering, but without weariness, on
account of the Beloved; for, as S. Augustine saith, love
makes all that is grievous and heavy to be light as nothing.*
It was on this step that the Bride stood when she expressed
her longing for the last, saying: ‘Put me as a seal upon
Thy heart, as a seal upon Thy arm; for love’—that is, the
acts and operations of love—‘is strong as death: jealousy is
hard as hell.’t The spirit is now so strong, and has so
subdued the flesh, that it is as regardless of it as a tree is of
one of its leaves. It seeks not for consolation or sweetness
either in God or elsewhere, neither does it- pray for God’s
gifts through any motive of self-interest, or its own satisfac-
tion. All it cares for now is how it shall please God, and
serve Him in some measure as He deserves to be served, and
in some degree corresponding with the graces it has received,
and this at any and every cost.
The ‘spiritual man now is saying in his heart and mind,
my God and my Lord; how many there are who seek their
own comfort and joy in Thee and who pray for gifts and
graces, but those who strive to please Thee, who offer Thee
that which costs them something, and who cast their own
interests aside, are very few; it is not Thy will to show
- mercy that fails, O my God! but it is we who fail in using
Thy mercies as we ought, so as to bind Thee to show us Thy
mercy continually.
* Serm, LXX de Verb. Evan. Matth. Opp. tom. y. p. 383+ Ed. Ben.
+ Cant. viii. 6,
—
SPRINGS OF WATER IN THE DESERT. 437
This degree of love is exceedingly high, for now the
soul, earnest in its love, follows after God in the spirit of
suffering for His sake, and God therefore frequently and, as
it were, continually permits it to rejoice, visiting it sweetly
in spirit, for the boundless love of Christ, the Word, cannot
look on the sufferings of the souls that love without hastening
to their relief. He has promised to do so by the mouth of
the Prophet, saying, ‘ I have remembered thee, pitying thy
youth . . . when thou followedst mein the desert,’ * which in
its spiritual sense is that abandonment which the soul is
conscious of with regard to all created things, when it cannot
rest upon them or be at ease among them. On this fourth
step of the ladder the soul is so inflamed with love, and so
set on fire with the desire after God, that it ascends upwards
to the fifth.
On the fifth step of the ladder the soul longs after God,
and desires Him with impatience. Such is now the eager-
ness of the soul to embrace, and be united to, the Beloved,
that every moment of delay, how slight soever, seems to it
long, tedious, and oppressive, and it is ever thinking that it
has found its love; but when it sees that its desires are
disappointed—which is almost continually the case—it faints
away through the intenseness of its longing, as it is written :
* My soul longeth and fainteth for the courts of the\Lord.’ f
And now the soul must either obtain its desires or die, like
Rachel, who said to Jacob, ‘Give me children, otherwise I
shall die.’{ It is now nourished by love, for as was its
hunger so is its abundance, and so it ascends to the sixth
step, the effects of which I am about to describe.
* Jerem, ii. 2, + Ps, lxxxiii, 2. { Gen, xxx. 1,
CHAP,
XIX,
Fifth step,—
The soul
panteth after
God,
438 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
CHAPTER XX.
Of the other five degrees.
BOOK Wuen the soul has ascended to the sixth step, it runs lightly
Ban step. t0 God; and hope too runs without fainting, for love
pane’ ~=—hhas made it strong so that it flies lightly onwards. It is of
Tnantments, this step that the Prophet speaks, saying: ‘ They that hope
in the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall take wings
as eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk
and not faint,* and the Psalmist also: ‘As the hart panteth
after the fountains of waters, so my soul panteth after Thee,
O God.’ t The hart when thirsty runs quickly to the water.
Cansedby ~The cause of this quickness which the soul experiences on
ofheart, this step of the ladder is, that charity is enlarged, and the
soul is now almost wholly purified, as it is written: ‘ without
iniquity have I run,’ { and again, ‘I have run the way of Thy
commandments, when Thou didst enlarge my heart,’ § and
thus the soul ascends immediately from the sixth to the
seventh degree of love.
Seventh step, On the seventh step the soul becomes so bold in its intense
svn and loving exaltation, that no prudence can withhold it, no
counsel control it, no shame restrain it; for the favour which
God hath shown it has made it vehemently bold. This
explains to us those words of the Apostle, that charity ‘ be-
lieveth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things,’ ||
It was in this state that Moses was when he said unto God:
‘Either forgive them this trespass, or if Thou do not, strike
me out of the book that Thou hast written.’ Men of this
spirit obtain from God what they so lovingly pray for, and
so the Psalmist says; ‘ Delight in the Lord, and He will give
* ds, xl, SL. +t Fe. eh, 3, t Ib. lviii. 5,
§ Ps, cxyiii, 82, || 1 Cor, xiii, 7, q] Ex, xxxii. 31, 32.
—"_— ”
.
HEAVEN ON EARTH. aS 439
thee the requests of thy heart.’* Standing on this step, the
Bride said boldly : ‘Let Him kiss me with the kiss of His —————
mouth.’ But remember it is not lawful to be thus bold,
unless the soul feels: that the interior favour of the king’s
sceptre is extended to it,t lest it should fall down the steps
already ascended ; in all of which humility must ever be pre-
served. From this boldness and courage of the seventh step, ¢
which God grants that it may be bold with Him in the vehe-
mence of its love, the soul ascends to the eighth, where it
lays hold of the Beloved and is united to Him.
On the eighth step the soul embraces the Beloved and
holds Him fast. ‘I found Him whom my soul loveth; I held
Him; and I will not let Him go.’§ Here the desires of the
soul are satisfied, but not without interruption. Some souls
are thus satisfied ; but they quickly fall back, for if they did
not, and if that state of satisfaction continued, they would
have attained to a state of glory even in this life. For this
reason the soul tarries but briefly on this step of the ladder.
Daniel, being a man of desires, was bidden, on the part of
God, to remain here: ‘ Daniel, thou man of desires, stand up-
right.’ || The next step is the ninth, the degree of the perfect.
On the ninth step the soul is on fire sweetly. This is the
degree of the perfect, who burn sweetly in God, for this
sweet and delicious ardour is the work of the Holy Ghost in
the union of the soul with God. 8S. Gregory says of the
Apostles, that they burned interiorly with love sweetly, when
the Holy Ghost descended upon them.{ The blessings and
the riches of God which the soul now enjoys cannot be de-
scribed. And if we were to write whole books on the subject
there would still be more to say. For this reason, and
because I intend to speak of it hereafter, I shall now say no
¢ Esth, v. 2; viii. 4.
{| Hom, 30, in Evang.
+ Cant, i. 1.
|| Dan, x. 11.
* Ps. xxxvi. 4,
§ Cant, iii, 4,
440 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK = more of this step, except that it is immediately followed by
———— the tenth and the last, which does not belong to this life.
Tenth and On the tenth step of the ladder the soul becomes wholly .
The Beatific assimilated unto God in the Beatific Vision which it then
enjoys; for having ascended to the ninth, it goeth forth out
of the body. Love works in such souls—they are few,
and perfectly purified in this life—what Purgatory works in
Parity ot others in the next. For, ‘ Blessed are the clean in heart, for
fwetyot, they shall see God.’* As I have said, this vision is the
cause of the. soul’s perfect likeness unto God. ‘ We know,’
saith S. John, ‘that, when He shall appear, we shall be
like to Him, because we shall see Him as He ist And
thus, whatever the soul may be, it will be like unto God, and
so is called, and is, by participation, God. -
Love reveals This is the secret ladder of which the soul speaks, though
in the higher steps no longer secret to it, for love reveals
itself to it in the great effects it produces. But on the highest
step, the Beatific Vision, the last of the ladder, where God
leans, nothing remains secret from the soul, by reason of its
perfect likeness. And, therefore, our Saviour saith, ‘In that
day you shall not ask me anything.’ Until that day come,
notwithstanding the heights to which the soul ascends, some-
thing still remains secret from it, and that in proportion to
the distance from its perfect likeness'to the Divine Essence.
In this way, then, by means of mystical theology and secret
love, the soul goeth forth from all things and from itself,
ascending upwards unto God. For love is like fire, which
ever ascends, hastening to be absorbed in the centre of its
sphere.
* S. Matt. v. 8. + 158. John iii. 2, t S. John xvi. 23.
.
ee ee
THE WHITE GARMENT OF FAITH, ~ 441
CHAPTER XXI.
The meaning of ‘ disguised.’ The colours in which the soul disguises
itself,
HAvine now explained why contemplation is a secret ladder,
I have further to explain what is meant by the word dis-
guised; for the soul says hat it went forth by the secret ladder,
disguised.
For the clear understanding of this it is necessary to keep
in mind that to be disguised is nothing else but to hide
oneself under another form than our own, either for the
purpose of showing, under that concealment, the will and
purpose of the heart with a view to gain the goodwill and
affection of the person beloved, or for the purpose of hiding
oneself from the observation of rivals, and thereby the better
effect our object. Such a person assumes the disguise which
shall most represent the affection of his heart, and which
shall the best conceal him from his rivals.
The soul, then, touched with the love of Christ, that it
may gain His favour and goodwill, sallies forth in that dis-
guise which shall most vividly represent the affections of
the mind and secure it against the assaults of its enemies,
the devil, the world, and the flesh. The disguise it assumes
is a garment of three principal colours, White, Green, and
Purple, emblems of the three theological virtues, Faith, Hope,
and Charity; which not only enable the soul to enter into
the good graces of the Beloved, but also protect it against its
enemies.
Faiths a garment of such surpassing whiteness as to dazzle
every intellectual vision ; for when the soul has put on faith
it becomes invisible and inaccessible to the devil, because
it_is then most securely defended against him, its strongest
and most cunning foe,
« Peter knew of no better defence against the devil than
law
of white,
1. Faith the
breast-plate
of defence
When and
how as-
sume,
2. Hope the
helmet of
protection
against the
world,
442 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
faith, for he said, ‘ Whom resist, stedfast in faith.’* And
with a view of entering into favour and union with the
Beloved, the soul cannot put on a better garment, as the
ground of the other virtues, than the white garment of faith,
without which ‘it is impossible to please God.’t But with
a living faith the soul is pleasing and acceptable unto God,
Who says so Himself by the mouth of the Prophet: ‘I will
espouse thee to Me in faith.’{ It is as if He said to the
soul, If thou wilt be united and betrothed to Me, thou must
draw near clad interiorly in faith.
The soul assumes the white robe of faith when it goeth
forth in the obscure night, walking in darkness and interior
trials, receiving no light of consolation from the intellect;
not from above, because heaven seems shut and God hidden;
not from below, because its spiritual directors can give it
no satisfaction. And when it endures patiently and per-
severes, amidst its trials, without fainting or falling away
from the Beloved, who by these trials and temptations is
proving its faith, so that it may be able hereafter to say
with the Psalmist, ‘ For the sake of the words of Thy lips,
I have kept hard ways.’§
Over the white robe of faith the soul puts on the second
colour, green, the emblem of the virtue of Hope, which
delivers it and protects from the assaults of its second
enemy, the world. The freshness of a living hope in God
inspires the soul with such energy and resolution, with such
aspirations after the things of eternal life, that all this world
seems to it—as indeed it is—in comparison with what it
hopes for, dry, withered, dead, and worthless. Here the
soul denudes itself of the garments and trappings of the
world, by setting the heart upon nothing that is in it, and
hoping for nothing that is, or may be, in it, living only in
= 1 S.. Pet.-v-%. + Heb. xi. 6.
t Os, ii, 20, § Ps, xvi. 4.
rm
Pee tr
ty ths gee
+ ie
_ THE GREEN VESTURE OF HOPE. 443
the hope of everlasting life. And, therefore, when the heart
is thus lifted up above the world, the world cannot touch it
or lay hold of it, nor even see it; and the soul, disguised in
the vesture of hope, is secure from its second foe, the world.
This is the reason why S. Paul calls the hope of salvation a
helmet.* Now a helmet is armour which protects and covers
the whole head, and has no opening except in one place,
where the eyes may look through. Hope is such an helmet,
for it covers all the senses of the head of the soul in such a
way that they cannot be lost in worldly things, and leaves no
part of them exposed to the arrows of the world. It has one
loophole only through which the eyes may look upwards;
CHA?,
XXL
this is the work of hope, to direct the eyes of the soul to —
God; as it is written, ‘ My eyes are ever towards the Lord,’ f
looking for succour nowhere else; as the same Psalmist
writes, ‘ As the eyes of the handmaid are on the hands of her
mistress, so are our eyes unto the Lord our God until He
have mercy upon us,’ t hoping in Him.
The green vesture of hope—for the soul is then ever
looking upwards unto God, disregarding all besides, and
delighting only in Him — is so pleasing to the Beloved that
the soul obtains from Him all it hopes for. This is why He
tells the soul in the Canticle, ‘Thou hast wounded My heart
with one of thy eyes.’§ It would not have been expedient
for the soul, if it had not put on the green robe. of hope, to
claim such love, for it would not have succeeded, because
that which influences the Beloved, and prevails, is persever-
ing hope. It isin the vesture of hope that the soul disguised
goes forth securely in the secret and obscure night; seeing
that it goes forth so detached from all possession, without any
consolations, that it regards nothing, and that its sole anxiety
* 1 Thess, v. 8, + Ps. xxiv. 15.
t Ps, exxii, 2, § Cant, iv. %
The soul by
hope obtains
its desires.
444. THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK» is about God, putting its ‘mouth in the dust if so be there
——— may be hope.’*
©. Ths royal Over the white and green robes, as the crown and perfec-
shields te tion thereof, ss Bon puts on the thin, the splondia! robe
flesh, of purple. This is the emblem of Charity, which not only
enhances the beauty of the others, but which so elevates the
soul and renders it so lovely and pleasing in His eyes: that
it ventures to say to Him, ‘I am black but beautiful, O
daughters of Jerusalem, therefore hath the king loved me
and brought me into His secret chamber.’t This robe of
charity — charity is love—not only defends the soul from
Love of God its third enemy, the flesh —for where the true love of God
of self. is there is no room for self-love or for selfishness — but
strengthens the other virtues also, and makes them flourish,
beautifying the soul and adorning it with grace, so that it
shall please the Beloved; for without charity no virtue is
pleasing unto God. This is the purple, spoken of in the
Canticle, by which the soul ascends to the seat where God
reposes: ‘ the seat of gold, the going up of purple.’{ It is in
this robe of purple that the soul goeth forth in the obscure
night out of itself, and from all created things, with anxious
love inflamed, by the secret ladder of contemplation to the
perfect union of the love of God its beloved’Saviour.
The Intellect ‘This, then, is that disguise which the soul assumes in the
oom, night of faith on the secret ladder; and these are the colours
of it, namely, a certain most fitting disposition for its union
with God in the three powers, Memory, Intellect, and Will.
Faith: blinds the intellect, and empties it of all natural
intelligence, and thereby disposes it for the union of the
oe han Divine Wisdom. Hope empties the memory and withdraws
it from all created things which can possess it; for as the
Apostle writes, ‘Hope that is seen is not hope.’§ Thus the
* Lam, iii. 29. Tt Cant.i.4. Off B. M. Y. ant, ad Vesp. ©
t Cant.iii 10. § Rom. viii. 24.
b.
ee,
eae |
—————— se ee
Seen <? ie 4 4 ~
; oe ie , - « >
‘THE PURPLE ROBE OF CHARITY.” 445
memory is withdrawn from all things on which it might dwell
in this life, and is fixed on what the soul hopes to possess.
Hope in God alone, therefore, purely disposes the memory
according to the measure of the emptiness it has wrought for °
union with Him.
Charity in the same way empties the affections and desires
of the will of everything that is not God, and fixes them on
Him alone. This virtue of charity, then, disposes the will
and unites it with God in love. And because these virtues
—it being their special work — withdraw the soul from all.
that is not God, so also do they serve to unite the soul to
Him. It is, therefore, impossible for the soul to attain to
the perfection of the love of God unless it journeys, in
earnest, in the robes of these three virtues. This disguise,
therefore, which the soul assumed when it went forth in
order to obtain what it aimed at, the loving union with the
Beloved, was most necessary and expedient. And it was also
a great happiness to have succeeded in thus disguising itself
and persevering until it obtained the desired end, the union
of love.
CHAPTER XXII.
O happy lot!
Ir is very evident that it was a blessed thing for the soul to
have succeeded in such an enterprise as this, by which it was
delivered out of the hands of Satan, from the world and from
its own sensuality, in which, having gained that liberty of
spirit so precious and desirable, it rose from meanness to
dignity, from being earthly and human became heavenly and
Divine, having its ‘ conversation in Heaven,’ * like those who
are in the state of perfection, as I shall proceed to explain.
* Philipp. iii. 20,
OMAP.
XXII.
Happiness of
the soul in
having over-
come its
enemies,
BOOK
Th.
446 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
I shall, however, be brief, because the most important
point—that which chiefly determined me to explain the ob-
scure right to many souls who enter on it without knowing
it—has been already in some degree explained, and I have
also described, though in inadequate terms, what great bless-
ings descend upon the soul in that night, and what a great
happiness it is to be passing through it. This I did that
when such souls are alarmed at the trials that have come
upon them they may be encouraged by the certain hope of
the numerous and great blessings which they will receive °
in this night. Beside this, it was a blessed lot for the soul
on account of what it describes in the following line.
CHAPTER XXIII.
The wonderful hiding place of the soul, which the devil, though he
penetrates into other higher places, cannot enter.
In darkness and concealment.
In concealment, that is, secretly and hidden. So when the
soul says that it went forth in darkness and concealment, it
explains the more clearly the great security it found in
obscure contemplation on the road of the union of the love
of God. ‘ ‘
The words ‘darkness and concealment’ mean here that
the soul, having gone forth into the obscurity, travelled there-
fore in secret, unknown to the evil one, beyond the reach of
his wiles and stratagems. The reason why the soul is free,
concealed from the devil and his wiles in the obscurity of
contemplation, is, that infused contemplation, to which it is
now admitted, is passively infused into it, in.secret, without
the cognisance of the senses, and of the interior and exterior
powers of the sensitive part. And that, too, is the reason why it
ere eee
EE es
SAFE SHELTER IN THE STORM. ~ 447
escapes from not only the embarrassments which the faculties
naturally and through their weakness present before it, but
also from the evil one who, were it not for the sensitive facul- .
ties, could never know what is passing in the soul. The
more spiritual therefore the communication is, and the further
it is removed beyond the reach of sense, the less able is the
devil to perceive it.
This being the case, it becomes a matter of great moment,
greatly conducive to the soul’s security, that the senses of our
lower nature should have no knowledge whatever of- the
interior conversation of the soul with God, and that for two
reasons; first, that the spiritual communication may be the
more abundant, which it will be when the weakness of our
lower nature does not impede liberty of spirit. The second
-is, that the soul is more secure because the evil one cannot
know what is passing within it. The words of our Lord,
‘Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doth,’ *
may be, in a spiritual sense, understood of this, and we may.
understand Him to say: Let not thy left hand, that is man’s
inferior nature, know what is passing in the higher and
spiritual part of the soul. That is, let the Divine communi-
cations remain unknown to the lower senses, and a secret
between thy spirit and God.
It is true, when these interior and most, hidden com-
munications occur, that the devil, though he knows neither
their nature nor their form, ascertains their existence, and
that the soul is then receiving some great blessings, merely.
from observing the silence and repose of the senses, and the
_ powers of our sensitive nature. And then, when he sees that
he cannot thwart them in the inmost depth of the soul,
he does all he can to disquiet and disturb the sensitive part,
which is accessible to him, by fears and horrible dread,
intending thereby to trouble the higher and spiritual part,
* 8. Matt. vi. 3.
Sense should
be ignorant
of what is
done in the
spirit,—
why.
The devil
ascertains
the state of
the spirit by
evidences of
the sensitive
nature,
BOOK
ae
™ye spiritual
weaults of
Satan,
448 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
of the soul, and to frustrate the blessings it then receives
and enjoys. But very often when this contemplation pours
its light purely into the mind and offers it violence, the
devil, with all his efforts, is not able to disquiet it, for then
the soul becomes the recipient of renewed benefits, love, and
a more secure peace; in its consciousness of the disturbing
presence of the foe, it runs inwardly into itself, without
knowing how it comes to pass, and feels assured of a certain
refuge where it can hide itself beyond the reach of the evil
one; and thus its peace and joy are multiplied, of which
the devil attempted to rob it. All those terrors assail it
only from without; it sees clearly, and exults, that it can in
the meanwhile enjoy in secret the calm peace and «sweetness
of the Bridegroom, which the world and the devil can
neither give nor take away. The soul is now experiencing-
the truth of what the Bride says in the Canticle, ‘ Behold,
threescore valiant ones . . . surround the bed of Solomon
. . « because of fears in the night.’"* Strength and peace
abound within the soul, though the flesh and the bones are
frequently tormented. without.
At other times, when the spiritual communications flow
over into the senses, the devil succeeds the more easily in
disquieting the mind, and in disturbing it with the terrors
with which he assails it through the senses. At that time
the mental agonies are immense, and occasionally surpassing
all description ; for when spirit has to do with spirit, the evil
one causes an intolerable horror in the good one, that is, in the
soul, when it succeeds in disturbing it. This is the meaning
of the Bride in her account of what happened to her when
she tried to be interiorly recollected, so as to have the
fruition of these goods: ‘I went down,’ she says, ‘into the
garden of nuts to see the fruits of the valleys, and to look if
the vineyard had flourished . . .. I knew not; my soul troubled
* Cant, iii, 7, 8.
se We
ee
~*~
COMBAT BETWEEN THE GOOD AND EVIL ANGEL. 449
me for the chariots’ and the confused cries ‘of Aminadab,’
that is, the devil.*
This contradiction of the devil takes place also when God
bestows His favours upon a soul by the instrumentality of a
good angel. The devil sees this occasionally, because God
in general permits it to become known to the enemy, that he
may do what he can, according to the measure of justice,
against that soul, and that he may be debarred from pleading
that he had no opportunity of seizing on that soul as he did
in the case of Job. It is, therefore, expedient that God should
place these two combatants, the good angel and the devil, on
an equality when they contend for a human soul, in order
that the victory may be of greater worth, and that the soul,
triumphant and faithful in temptation, may be the more
abundantly rewarded.
This is the reason why God, in the order of grace, permits
Satan to disquiet and tempt the soul which He is guiding
therein. When such a soul has real visions, through the
instrumentality of an angel, God suffers the evil spirit to
represent false visions of the same kind, in such a way that
an incautious soul may be very easily deluded, as it has
happened to many. We have an instance of this in Exodus,
‘where we read that the magicians of Pharao wrought signs
ahd wonders resembling those wrought by Moses. For
when Moses turned water into blood, the magicians of Egypt
did the same; and when he brought forth frogs, so did the
magicians. f
It is not in bodily visions only that the evil spirit apes
God, but in spiritual communications also, which are effected
through the instrumentality of an angel, whenever he
succeeds in discovering them. For as it is written, ‘He
beholdeth every high thing,’t that is,he apes them, and
* Cant. vi. 10, 11. + Ex. vii. 11, 22; viii, 6, 7. t Job xli, 25.
VOL. I. GG
The soul the
prize of a
contest.
Moses and
the magi-
cians of
Egypt.
BOOK
a,
Satan cannot
imitate
spiritual
visions.
450 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
insinuates himself among them as well as he can. Spiritual
visions have neither form nor figure —such is the charac-
teristic of spirit—-and, therefore, Satan cannot imitate them,
nor occasion others which shall in any way represent them.
And so when the good angel communicates spiritual con-
templation, the evil spirit, in order to disturb it while the
soul is being thus visited, presents himself before it with a
certain horror and spiritual confusion, which is occasionally
exceedingly painful. Sometimes the soul quickly disembar-
rasses itself, so that the terror of the evil spirit may have no
. time to make any impression upon it, and recollects itself,
God suffers
the devil to
afflict the
soul,—why.
favoured herein by that spiritual grace which the good angel
then communicates.
Sometimes, too, God permits this horror and trouble to
last a long time, and this is a greater torment to the soul
than all the evils of this life can be; the remembrance of
which afterwards is sufficient to produce great pain. All this’
passes in the soul without its doing or undoing anything of
itself in regard to these representations or impressions. But
we must remember that, when God suffers the evil spirit thus
to afflict the soul, it is with a view to purify and prepare it
by that spiritual vigil for some great festival and spiritual
grace which it is His will to bestow upon it—Who never mor-
tifies but to give life, Who never humbles but to exalt. This
speedily ensues; for the’ soul, according to the measure of
the dark purgation past, enters on the fruition of sweet
spiritual contemplation, and that so sublime at times that no
language can describe it. This is to be understood of those
Divine visitations which are the work of an angel, and
wherein the soul is not wholly secure, nor hidden in so great
obscurity but that the devil succeeds in discovering its state.
But when God visits the soul Himself, the words of the
stanza are then true, for, in perfect obscurity, hidden from
the enemy, it receives, at such times, the spiritual graces of
ms ob
- ae
GOD DWELLS SUBSTANTIALLY IN THE SOUL. 451
God. The reason of the difference is that God, being the
sovereign Lord, dwells substantially in the soul, and that
neither angel nor devil can discover what is going on there,
nor penetrate the profound and secret communications which
take place between Him and the soul. These communica-
tions, because the work of our Lord Himself, are wholly
Divine and supreme, certain substantial touches of the Divine
union between Himself and the soul; in one of these, because
the highest possible degree of prayer, the soul receives
greater good than in all the rest. These are those touches
for which the Bride prayed, saying, ‘ Let Him kiss me with
the kiss of His mouth.’* This being a thing that so inti-
mately relates to God, the soul, anxious to approach Him,
values and desires one touch of the Divinity more than all
the other graces which He bestows upon it. Hence the
Bride in the Canticle, after the many graces there described,
is not satisfied, but prays for these Divine touches: ‘ Who
shall give Thee to me for my brother, sucking the breast of
my mother, that I may find Thee without, and kiss Thee’
with the mouth of my soul, ‘and now no man may despise
me’t or presume against me. She means that communica-
tion which God makes alone, without, and secret from all
creatures; and so she says, ‘that I may find Thee without,
and ‘sucking the breast of my mother.’ This occurs when
the soul in liberty of spirit enjoys these blessings in sweetness
and interior peace, and when the sensitive part thereof cannot
hinder it, nor the devil by means of that sensitive part inter-
fere with it. Then, indeed, the evil spirit will not venture
to assail the soul, because he will not be able to approach it,
neither can he know of those Divine touches in the substance
of the soul wrought in loving knowledge by the substance of
God. No man can arrive at this blessed condition but by
* Cant. i. 1. + Cant, viii, 1,
BOOK
Tl.
The soul
conscious of
two forces.
Explanation
of last line
of second
stanza.
The two-fold
rest,—the
flesh at peace
with the
spirit ; the
spirit at
peace with
God.
452 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL,
interior purgation and detachment, by being spiritually hidden |
from. all created things. It is a work wrought in obscurity,
in the hiding place, wherein the soul is confirmed more and —
more in union with God by love; and, therefore, the soul
sings, ‘ In darkness and concealment.’
When these favours are shown to the soul in secret, that i is,
in the spirit only, the higher and lower portions of the soul
seem to it —it knows not how— to beso far apart that it
recognises two divisions in itself, each so distinct from the
other, that neither seems to have anything in common with
the other, being in appearance so separated and distinct.
And, in reality, this is in a certain manner true, for in its
present condition, which is wholly spiritual, it has no com-
merce with the sensitive part.
Thus the soul becomes wholly spiritual, and the molaeaat
passions and desires are in a great degree extinguished in
this hiding place of unitive contemplation. The soul then, -
speaking of its higher part, sings the last line of this stanza,
* My house being now at rest.’
CHAPTER XXIV.
My house being now at rest.
Tus is as much as saying, My higher nature and my lower
nature also, each in its desires and powers, being now at
rest, I went forth to the Divine. union of the love of God.
As the soul is doubly assailed and purified in the warfare
of the obscure night; that is, in all the senses, passions,
and powers of the sensitive and spiritual parts of it; so, also,
in all these senses, passions, and powers of the sensitive and
spiritual parts does it attain doubly to peace and rest. The
words, ‘ My house being now at rest,’ are repeated at the
COMPLETE AND EVERLASTING REST. 453
end of the second stanza, on account of the division of the
soul into spiritual and sensitive, which parts, if they are ever
to go forth into the Divine union of love, must first of all
be changed, corrected, and tranquillised with regard to all
the things of sense and spirit, after the likeness of the state
of innocence in Adam, notwithstanding that the soul be not
wholly delivered from the temptations of our lower nature.
These words, therefore, which in the first stanza relate to
the tranquillity of our lower and sensitive nature, now, in the
second stanza, refer particularly to the higher and spiritual
part of the soul; and this is the reason of the repetition.
The soul obtains this tranquillity and rest of the spiritual
house, habitually and perfectly —so far as it is possible in
Divine
espousals of
the soul with
the Word of
this life—through the substantial touches of the Divine ¢o4
union, which, in secret, hidden from the turmoil of Satan,
sense, and passion, it receives from the Divinity, whereby
the soul is tranquillised, purified, strengthened, and con-
firmed, so as to become an effectual partaker of that union
which is the Divine espousal of the soul to the Son of God.
The instant the two houses of the soul are tranquil and con-
firmed, with the whole household of powers and desires sunk
in sleep and silence, as to all things of sheaven and earth,
the Divine Wisdom, in the bond of loving possession, unites
itself to the soul, and that is fulfilled which is written,
‘While all things were in quiet silence, and the night was
in the midst of her course, Thy Almighty Word leapt down
from heaven from Thy royal throne.’* The same truth is
set before us in the Canticle where the Bride, after passing
away from those who took her veil away and wounded her,
saith, ‘When I had: a little passed by them, I found Him
whom my soul loveth.’f
This union is unattainable without great purity, and purity
* Wisd. xviii. 14. + Cant. iii. 4.
454 THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.
BOOK is attainable only by detachment from all created things and
————— sharp mortifications. This is signified by the robbery of the
veil and the wounding of the Bride in the night when she went
forth searching after her Beloved; for the new veil of the
betrothal cannot be put on till the old veil be taken away.
He, therefore, who will not go out in this obscure night to
seek the Beloved, who will not deny and mortify his own
will, but seek Him at his ease on his bed, as the Bride
once did,* will never find Him. The soul says here that it
found Him, but only when it went forth into the obscurity
anxious with love.
CHAPTER XXV.
In that happy night,
In secret, seen of none,
And seeing nought myself,
Without other light or guide
Save that which in my heart was burning.
Thethira THE soul still continues the metaphor of natural night in
expnaned. celebrating and magnifying the blessings of the Night of
the Spirit, by means of which it has been able quickly and
securely to compass the desired end. Three of these bless-
ings are set before us in this stanza.
Blessings of 1. In this blessed night of contemplation God guides the
nigh soul by a road so solitary and so secret, so remote and alien
from sense, that nothing belonging thereto, nor any created
thing, can approach to disturb it or detain it on the road
to the union of love.
2. The second blessing of the spiritual obscurity of this
night is, that all the faculties of the higher nature of the
soul are in darkness. Consequently the soul, seeing nothing,
* Cant. iii, 1.
a eee
God from drawing near Saat o Him, aids els, advances
‘ freely, unencumbered by the obstacles of forms and figures
and natural apprehensions: for these are the things which
- usually embarrass the soul, and prevent it from being
always in union with God.
be 3. The third blessing is, that while the soul is supported
| by no particular interior light of the intellect, nor by any
exterior guide comforting it on this high road—the obscure
darkness has deprived it of all this—love and faith, now
burning within it, drawing the heart towards the Beloved,
influence and guide it, and make it fly upwards to God along 0 De
the road of solitude, while it knows neither how nor by fed pati,
what means that is done. AS
i
‘ ui
‘3
*
END OF THE OBSCURE NIGHT.
LONDON
PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO,
NEW-STREET SQUARE
—~,
eae a oot sy" le oa
is 1. ie Be : pb ‘
Os. if oi 4) ee
=
==
Serer
"=
its
sae |
he 4
dia
ae
¢ erat -e be
Desay, (eka ed
é ite w
! ‘ = ‘
‘ *. ; “1
—_ a
= 7, > - ,
“<— ;
+ - : *
~ 2 j
=
| :
; *
:
| | : .
“ ta *
~ OWE e b-94-e=-,
ae
noah haa
Aeon dl dae
ae a enn re
aad
SEP
Ome :
Live Music Archive
Librivox Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland Museum of Art
Internet Arcade
Console Living Room
Books to Borrow
Open Library
TV News
Understanding 9/11