EXPLICATIO IN CANTICA CANTICORUM

• 405A

After the human race was cast out from the joys of paradise, coming into this pilgrimage of the present life, it has a heart blind to spiritual understanding. To which blind heart, if it were said with a human voice: Follow God, or: Love God, as was said to it in the law, once sent outside and cold through the torpor of unbelief, it would not grasp what it heard. Therefore the divine word speaks to the torpid and cold soul through certain riddles, and out of the things she knows it secretly instils into her the love she does not know. For allegory makes, as it were, a kind of engine for the soul set far from God, that by it she may be lifted up to God: for with riddles interposed, while she recognizes in the words something that is her own, she understands in the sense of the words 405Bwhat is not her own, and through earthly words she is separated from earth. For by this, that she does not shrink from the known, she understands something unknown. For by things known to us, out of which allegories are put together, the divine meanings are put together, and while we come to know the outward words, we arrive at the inward understanding. For hence it is that in this book which is written as the Song of Songs, words of a love as it were of the body are set down, so that the soul, chafed back to warmth from her own body by discourses of her accustomed manner, may grow warm again, and through words of the love that is below may be roused to the love that is above. For in this book kisses are named, breasts are named, cheeks are named, thighs are named. In which words Holy Scripture is not to be derided, 405Cbut the ampler mercy of God is to be considered; because, while it names the members of the body, it so calls to love.

It is to be noted that he is wondrously with us, and works mercifully. Who, that he might kindle our heart to the incitement of holy love, came down even to the words of our base love. But whence he humbles himself in speaking, thence he exalts us in understanding, because from the discourses of this love we learn by what power of this love we may glow in the love of the Godhead. Yet this must be watchfully looked to by us, lest, when we hear the words of outward love, we remain at the sensing of outward things, and the engine which is set there that it may lift us should rather press us down so that we be not lifted. We ought therefore in these bodily words, in these outward words, to seek whatever is inward, and, speaking of the body, as it were 405Dto become outside the body. We ought to come to these nuptials of the Bridegroom and the bride with the understanding of inmost charity, that is, 406Awith the wedding garment, that is, with a worthy understanding of charity: with which if we are not clothed, let us drive away [repellamus; read repellemur, "we shall be driven out"] from this nuptial banquet into the outer darkness, that is, the blindness of ignorance. We ought through these words of passion to pass over to the virtue of impassibility. For Holy Scripture is in words and senses just as a painting is in colors and things. And he is exceedingly foolish who so clings to the colors of a painting that he does not know the things which are painted. For if we embrace the words which are outwardly spoken, and do not know the senses, we hold only the colors, as though not knowing the things which are depicted: The letter killeth, as it is written, but the spirit quickeneth (II Cor. III); for the letter covers over the spirit as chaff covers the wheat; but chaff is for beasts to feed on, wheat for men. He therefore who 406Buses human reason, let him cast away the chaff of beasts, and hasten to eat the wheat of the spirit. For to this end it is useful, that the mysteries be covered, wrapped up in the letter. For hence it is written: The wise shall hide understanding (Prov. X) [Vulg. Sapiens abscondet scientiam, "a wise man hideth knowledge"], because assuredly under the covering of the letter the spiritual understanding is covered over. Hence again in the same book Scripture says: It is the glory of God to conceal the word (Prov. XXV). For to the mind seeking God, God appears the more gloriously the more subtly and inwardly he is searched out that he may appear. But are we not to inquire into those things which God conceals in mysteries? We ought indeed.

For there follows: And it is the glory of kings to search out the discourse. For they who have already learned to rule and to search out their own bodies or the motions of the flesh, 406Care kings. It is therefore the glory of kings to search out the discourse, because it is the praise of those who live well to scrutinize the secrets of God's commandments. Hearing therefore the words of human converse, we ought to be as it were men out of the earth, lest, if we hear in a human way the things which are said, we be able to perceive nothing of divinity concerning those things which we ought to hear. Paul desired his disciples to be as it were no longer men, to whom he said: For whereas there is among you zeal and contention, are you not men homine? (I Cor. III.) The Lord esteemed his disciples as it were no longer men, when he said: Whom do men say that the Son of man is (Matth. XVI). And when they had answered him with the words of men, he at once added: But whom do you say that I am? For when above he says men, and then 406Dsubjoins, but you, he made a certain distance between men and his disciples, because plainly, 407Aby instilling divine things into them, he made them above men, as the Apostle says: If therefore there be any new creature in Christ, the old things are passed away (II Cor. V). And we know that in our resurrection the body is so joined to the spirit that all that had been of passibility is taken up into the power of the spirit. He therefore who follows God ought daily to imitate his own reason, so that, as then, he may have nothing passible in his heart, so that according to the inward man he may already be a new creature. Let him now tread down whatever has been old, and in old words seek the force of newness alone. For Holy Scripture is a certain mountain, from which the Lord comes into our hearts to be understood; of which mountain it is said through the prophet: God will come from Lebanon, and the Holy One from the shady and thick mountain (Habac. III) [Vulg. Deus ab austro veniet, et Sanctus de monte Pharan, "God will come from the south, and the Holy One from mount Pharan"]. That mountain is thick 407Bby its meanings, and shady by its allegories. But it must be known that, when the voice of the Lord sounds on the mountain, we are bidden to wash our garments, and to be cleansed from every defilement of the flesh, if we hasten to approach the mountain. For it is written: That if a beast touch the mountain, it shall be stoned (Hebr. XII). For a beast touches the mountain when men, given over to irrational motions, draw near to the loftiness of Holy Scripture, and do not understand it according as they ought, but irrationally bend it to the understanding of their own pleasure. For everyone absurd, or slothful in mind, if he be seen about this mountain, let him be slain by most fierce sentences as it were by stones. For this mountain burns, because Holy Scripture, which spiritually fills with the fire of love, sets alight. Whence it is written: Thy word is exceedingly fiery 407C(Psal. CXVIII). Whence, when certain men walking in the way heard the words of God, they said: Was not our heart burning within us, while he opened to us the Scriptures? (Luc. XXIV.) Whence it is said through Moses: In his right hand a fiery law (Deut. XXXIII). By the left hand of God the wicked are understood, who do not pass over into the right-hand part. The right hand of God are the elect, who are separated from those on the left. In the right hand of God, therefore, the law is fiery, because in the hearts of the elect (who are to be set at the right hand) the divine precepts are fragrant, and they are set alight with the ardor of charity. Let this fire, therefore, burn away whatever of rust and of oldness is outwardly in us, and offer our mind as a holocaust in the contemplation of God.

407DNor is it to be attended to idly that this book is called not a canticle, but the Song of Songs. For as in the Old Testament some things are holy, others the Holy of Holies; some Sabbaths, others the Sabbaths of Sabbaths; so in Holy Scripture some things are canticles, others the Song of Songs. Holy were the things which were done outwardly in the tabernacle; Sabbaths were those which were celebrated in each single week; but the Holy of Holies were received with a certain more secret veneration; and the Sabbaths of Sabbaths were kept only on the highest festivals. This Song of Songs is a secret, and a certain inward solemnity, which secret is penetrated in the hidden places of one who understands. For if it is attended to in outward words, it is not a secret. It is also to be known that in Holy Scripture some are 408Acanticles of victory, others canticles of exhortation and protestation, others canticles of exultation, others canticles of help, others canticles of conjunction with God. The canticle of victory is that which Moses sang when the Red Sea had been crossed, saying: Let us sing to the Lord, for he is gloriously honored: the horse and the rider he hath cast forth into the sea (Exod. XV) [Vulg. magnificatus est … dejecit, "is gloriously magnified … he hath thrown down"]. The canticle of exhortation and protestation is that which Moses said to the Israelites as they drew near to the land of promise: Attend, O heaven, to the things which I shall speak; let the earth hear the words out of my mouth (Deut. XXXII) [Vulg. Audite caeli quae loquor, audiat terra verba oris mei, "Hear, O ye heavens, the things which I speak"]. The canticle of exultation is that which Anna sang, the fruitfulness of the Church having been foreseen in herself, saying: My heart hath exulted in the Lord (I Reg. II), where by herself she expressed the figured fruitfulness of the Church's offspring, when she said: The barren hath borne 408Bvery many, and she that had very many is become weak (ibid.). The canticle of help David sang after the battle, saying: I will love thee, O Lord, my strength (Psal. XVII). But the canticle of conjunction with God is this, which is sung at the nuptials of the Bridegroom and the bride, that is, the Song of Songs, which is by so much loftier than all canticles as it is also offered at nuptials of a loftier solemnity. For by those canticles vices are avoided, but by this one each and all are enriched with virtues. For by those the enemy is guarded against, but by this the Lord embraces with familiar love.

And it is to be noted that sometimes the Lord in Holy Scripture calls himself Lord, sometimes father, sometimes bridegroom. For when he wishes to be feared, he names himself Lord; when he wishes to be honored, father; 408Cwhen he wishes to be loved, bridegroom. For he himself says through the prophet: If I am Lord, where is my fear? If I am father, where is my honor? (Malac. I.) [Vulg. Mal. 1:6 has the father first: Si ergo pater ego sum, ubi est honor meus? et si Dominus ego sum, ubi est timor meus?] And again he says: I have espoused thee to myself in justice and in faith (Ose. II) [Vulg. Osee 2:20 sponsabo te mihi in fide, "I will espouse thee to me in faith"]. Or assuredly: I have remembered the day of thy espousal in the desert. But because he first wishes to be feared that he may be honored, and first to be honored that men may come to him, he both names himself Lord for the sake of fear, and father for the sake of honor, and bridegroom for the sake of love; through fear one comes to honor, but through honor of him one arrives at love. For by how much honor is worthier than fear, by so much the more does God rejoice to be called father than Lord. And by how much love is dearer than honor, by so much the more does God rejoice to be called bridegroom than father. In this book, therefore, the Lord 408Dand the Church are named not Lord and handmaid, but Bridegroom and bride, so that not only fear, not only reverence, but love also may be served, and in these outward words the inward affection be stirred up. When he names himself Lord, he indicates that we have been created; when he calls himself father, he indicates that we have been adopted; when he names himself bridegroom, he indicates that we have been conjoined. But it is more to be conjoined to God than created and adopted. In this book, therefore, where he is called Bridegroom, something loftier is instilled, since in it the covenant of conjunction is shown. Which names, in the New Testament (because the conjunction of the Word and the flesh, of Christ and the Church, is now accomplished and celebrated) are recalled with frequent repetition. Whence John 409Asays while the Lord was living: He that hath the bride is the bridegroom (Joan. III). Whence the same Lord: The children of the bridegroom shall not fast so long as the bridegroom is with them (Matth. IX) [Vulg. Matt. 9:15 Numquid possunt filii sponsi lugere, "Can the children of the bridegroom mourn"; the "shall not fast" form is that of Mark 2:19 and Luke 5:34]. Whence also it is said to the Church: I have espoused you to one husband, that I may present you a chaste virgin to Christ (I Cor. XI). And again: That he might present to himself a glorious Church, not having spot or wrinkle (Ephes. V). And again in the Apocalypse of John: Blessed are they that are called to the supper of the Lamb of the marriage (Apoc. XIX) [Vulg. Apoc. 19:9 ad coenam nuptiarum Agni, "to the marriage supper of the Lamb"]. And again in the same place: And I saw the bride as a new spouse coming down from heaven (Apoc. XXI) [Vulg. Apoc. 21:2 Et vidi sanctam civitatem Jerusalem novam descendentem de caelo a Deo, paratam sicut sponsam ornatam viro suo, "And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband"]. Nor does it depart from a great mystery, that this book of Solomon is set third among his works: for the ancients said that there are three orders of life, the moral, the natural, and the contemplative. Which lives the Greeks named ethic, physic, and 409Btheoric. In the Proverbs, too, the moral life is expressed, where it is said: Hear, my son, my wisdom, and incline thy ear to my prudence (Prov. II) [Vulg. Prov. 5:1 Fili mi, attende ad sapientiam meam, "My son, attend to my wisdom"]. But in Ecclesiastes, the natural. For there it is considered that all things tend to an end, when it is said: Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity (Eccle. I). In the Song of Songs the contemplative life is expressed, while in it the coming and the sight of the Lord himself is desired, when it is said in the voice of the bride: Come from Lebanon, come (Cant. IV), or else he signified the orders and the lives of the three patriarchs, namely of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Abraham indeed held morality through obedience, while Isaac figured the natural life by digging wells. To dig wells in the depth is to search out by inquiry, through natural consideration, all the things which are below. 409CBut Jacob held the contemplative life, who saw the angels ascending and descending. But because natural consideration does not lead to perfection unless morality be first held, rightly is Ecclesiastes set after the Proverbs; and because the supernal contemplation is not beheld unless these things which slip away below be first despised, rightly is the Song of Songs set after Ecclesiastes. For first it is to compose one's manners, afterwards to consider all things which are present as though they were not present. But in the third place, with the cleansed edge of the heart, he beholds the inward and supernal things. And so by these steps of books he made as it were a ladder to contemplation, so that while first things are well conducted in the world, afterwards even the honorable things 409Dof the world be despised, and at the last the inmost things of God be beheld. Now thus, in general, the coming of the Lord in this time is awaited from the voice of the Church, so that also, in particular, every single soul may behold the entrance of God into her own heart, as it were the approach of the Bridegroom into the bridal chamber.

And it is to be known that in this book four speaking persons are introduced, the Bridegroom and the bride, the young maidens with the bride, and the troops of companions with the Bridegroom. For the bride assuredly is the Church herself, the Bridegroom the Lord; but the young maidens with the bride are souls beginning, and coming to their youth through new zeal; while the companions of the Bridegroom are either angels, who often, living from him, have appeared to men, or else all perfect men in the Church, 410Awho have known how to announce the truth to men. But those who singly are young maidens or companions are all together the bride, because all together they are the Church, although according to each one all these three names may be taken. For he who loves God perfectly is the bride; he who preaches the Bridegroom is a companion. He who, as yet new, follows the way of good men is a young maiden. Let us strive, therefore, that we may be the bride: if we do not yet prevail in this, let us be companions: if we have attained neither of these, let us at least come together to this bridal chamber as young maidens. Since therefore we have spoken of the Bridegroom and the bride, the Lord and the Church, let us, as young maidens or companions, hear the words of the Bridegroom, hear the words of the bride, and from their discourses learn the fervor of love. And so let holy Church, 410Blong awaiting the coming of the Lord, long thirsting for the fountain of life, say how it behoves her to see the presence of her Bridegroom, how she desires him.

In my little bed by night I sought him whom my soul loveth (Cant. III) [Vulg. Cant. 3:1 per noctes, "by nights," plural; the exposition below turns on the single night]. The soul which seeks God, and desires to attain more fully to the love and the knowledge of God, ought to seek him in the little bed, that is, in the stillness of the mind. For she ought to be at leisure, and to be still from the occupation and disquiet of earthly things. For unless she has been still from the care and occupation and 410Clove of outward things, she cannot seek God, nor does she deserve to find him. In the little bed therefore, that is, in the stillness of the mind, God is to be sought. And by night, that is, through the adversities of temptations and of labors, and in the battle of the virtues and the vices. For the soul must labor in many adversities, and be held back by many obstacles, and be wearied by heavy wrestling, before she perfectly corrects her manners, and obtains cleanness of heart, and deserves to see God. Whence deservedly she is said to seek God by night, namely through adversities and labors. And not in the bed, but in the little bed, because the stillness had from such things is scant, and narrow, since vices assuredly assail the soul, and former habit, and the memory and the delight of past sins. For which cause she also calls it her own little bed, 410Dand not ours, because she cannot have this in common with the Bridegroom, nor perfectly enjoy him in so scant a stillness, because his place is made in peace, and not in the battle and disturbance of vices. In this manner God is sought in the little bed by night by those beginning and not yet perfect. After this he is sought in another manner in the little bed and by night, namely when the soul, her vices more fully mortified and her temptations lulled, and her conscience purged, shall have obtained a fuller stillness, the grace of the Holy Spirit coming into the mind and quieting the vices and the temptations. According to that which is written: The bow he shall break in pieces and shatter, arms and shields he shall burn with fire (Psal. XLV). Then the soul will be able to be at leisure, and to see that the Lord is sweet. Thus 411Athe peace and tranquillity of the mind is the little bed in which the bride rests. In this little bed she seeks the beloved by night, namely when the desires of the flesh are lulled, and after the battle and the labors victory has followed, and stillness has been given. For in the day there is laboring, and in the night there is a ceasing from labor, and in the night there is stillness. When therefore, after the burden of the day and the heats, temptation namely, the soul comes from labor to the little bed of stillness, and to the night of resting from weariness and disquiet, then, now unencumbered and at leisure, she will be able better to seek the beloved. In this little bed and in this night she sleeps, but her heart keeps watch. For she sleeps outwardly, but inwardly keeps watch. And as much as she is still and at leisure outwardly, so much is she occupied and unquiet inwardly in seeking the beloved. But she seeks him in the little bed and not in the bed; because 411Bshe does not possess full stillness, but narrow, so long as she does not enjoy the beloved to her wish, nor has him with her. Whence also she calls the little bed itself her own, as being one which she alone has, and in which she does not yet rest with the Bridegroom. And therefore it is well said that she seeks by night (namely of blindness) in which she is held, so that she does not fully enjoy him, nor feel his presence. For he is indeed present by essence, present by desire, and he is already had who is desired, because one not had could not be desired; but he is not at hand by the revelation of his presence. For he has not yet put her blindness to flight, nor illumined her to feel his presence. Of this night, therefore, she complains, and pleads that through it she seeks the beloved, and does not find him. She desires 411Ctherefore to be illumined and to have the eyes of her heart opened, that she may find him, and by the grace drawing near may understand his presence, and may feel both that she is seen by him and that she sees him. For she seeks the illumination of an ampler grace, the understanding of his presence, and the experience of spiritual sweetness: I sought, she says, him whom my soul loveth. In the love of the soul we can note a spiritual and also an affectionate love. But when we love someone affectionately, we say that we love him as our own soul, as if she should say: Whom I love affectionately and spiritually, that is, unto the salvation of the soul, not unto temporal or carnal advantage. But the Bridegroom does not always at once offer himself to her who seeks him, nor show himself to her who desires him, but often defers to fulfil her wishes that he may increase them, and afterwards reward them increased and more perfectly 411Dfulfil them. He also sometimes defers these things, that he may prove the constancy of her who seeks, and grant the things desired the more profitably the later. For what is acquired with labor is held more closely and guarded more warily. And sometimes desires more quickly fulfilled fail, and deferred ones grow the more. Whence the bride, feeling the delay, and not knowing the dispensation, and impatient of love, complains, saying: I sought, and I found him not (Cant. V). For she does not yet perceive the grace sought for, she has not yet felt the presence of the Bridegroom.

And so the bride, having suffered difficulty and as it were a repulse, in no wise is still from seeking, but girds herself 412Amore amply for seeking. For she shows her own importunity and constancy, saying: I will rise, and I will go about the city (Cant. III). She turns herself to humility, that whom she does not find through herself, she may seek through others, if perchance through them she may find him. With much labor she had prepared a bed for herself, first ceasing from sins, and afterwards contending more strongly against vices, and after these things withdrawing from occupations and cares, and at the last being at leisure from harmful things, and truly also from very many good works, so that, made less in her deeds, she might perceive the wisdom which is God. But now she turns to going about and searching out the good works of others, that by this labor she may find the Bridegroom, whom being still she had less found. She rises from stillness, going about, namely, the city. She goes about in thought the assembly 412Bof good men, that in them she may take examples of a better life and lessons of the virtues: for through humility she reckons that there is lacking to her the adornment of virtues, and cleanness of heart, through which she might deserve to find the Bridegroom, showing the house of her mind, though free from vices, yet less adorned with virtues. Which house, that she may adorn it more becomingly, going about and traversing the virtues of the saints, and exploring the special grace of each single one, and plucking flowers from one of humility, from another of patience, from another of obedience, from another of abstinence, from another of charity, from another of purity. These she strives to transfuse by imitation into her manners, and with them to adorn the house of her mind. For she measures the fabric, that is, she weighs the life of the saints, and considers in them the construction of the virtues, that she may blush in herself for her own imperfection. 412CAnd, as is read in Job, she looks upon men, she attends to the holy (Job XXXIII), that she may reckon herself a sinner in comparison with them; whence, humbled by their examples and kindled to advancement, she gives her effort anew to the cleansing of her heart and to the cultivating of the virtues, that with her house more fully cleansed and adorned she may become worthy for the finding of the Bridegroom. The bride herself goes about the city (good men, namely) that she may search out their virtues and holiness: And she seeks the beloved through the streets and the broad ways. The streets are narrower, and the broad ways wider. Whence by the streets are designated those who, leaving all things, and naked following the naked Christ, have chosen for themselves a narrow way of living. But by the broad ways, which are wider, we understand the perfect of secular life, who, walking by a wider way, 412Dand not leaving all their own things, but using their own well, have pleased God by hospitalities and alms and the other good works. Who, turning aside from the broad way which leads to death, have held the strait way of the commandments and of life. She seeks therefore the beloved first through the streets, and afterwards through the broad ways.

For because she is borne by the desire of perfection, she seeks examples first from the perfect. She considers by how strait a law of living they bound themselves, and how slender was their food, how poor their clothing, how brief their sleep, how heavy the labor of the body, how strict the discipline of the heart, how in all things they cut away the delights of the body, drew out the wills of the heart. She weighs after these things how great was in them the loftiness and the liberty of mind. And how, dwelling in the flesh, they had their converse 413Ain the heavens, how they passed beyond all earthly things and trod them down. Some of these were sustained by a little bread and water, some lived not on bread but on herbs or roots, and some received their food from heaven, some led their life almost without any food at all, some dwelt without any clothing at all under the naked air. Who, casting away not only the acts of the world, but even all its matter, were as it were outside the flesh, and by as much as they passed beyond the world and went beyond the vices of the flesh, by so much, filled with grace and swallowed up by the spirit, they searched out the hidden things of the Godhead, and knew them. And so the soul, made fervent, runs through these so heavenly ones, filled with so great grace, and considers them, and what she has less in herself, in them she loves. Through these she seeks God, that in their 413Bexamples her love, being nourished, may at some time rise up to God. For since in them the image of God, and in great part the likeness, shines out, and by as much as she has been able to imitate them and to be made like them, by so much does she deserve to be united to God, and by so much does she receive God into herself, as she has taken on his likeness. For nothing is so near to God as his character and likeness. But when the soul has been made just, true, merciful, wise through grace, which God has by nature, by as much as she has formed these virtues in herself, by so much will she reform in herself the likeness of God. Wherefore, when the bride attends to the perfect, and labors to be made like them, and walks by their examples that she may find the beloved, through the streets she seeks him whom her soul loveth. She seeks 413Chim also through the broad ways, namely in certain seculars or even in married persons. For nowhere does she hold the examples and incitements of salvation to be despised. And so many of this sort, although they held a lighter and wider way of converse, nevertheless spread abroad the odor of a good report of themselves, and afforded examples of imitation. What examples of sanctity are there in Abraham? What in Job are not found, by which a soul seeking God might be kindled and built up? Who were filled with so great grace, and endowed with so great love of God, that the one of them offered his only son to death at the Lord's command, and the other bore with even mind the death of all his children, and rendered thanks to God. The one deserved to be blessed by the Lord for his excelling merit, the other, in the loss of all that he had had, 413Dblessed the Lord. The one deserved to enjoy the converse of angels, whom also he received in hospitality, and fed. The other heard the Lord himself speaking, and saw him with the eyes of his heart illumined. With how great a light of divine grace was he illumined, whose mind the night of so many adversities and of the enemy's temptations did not darken, and whom his whole quiet bed, turned about, did not overturn? Not undeservedly, therefore, does the bride run from her night, and from the bed of her stillness in which she did not find the Bridegroom, to this man, whom she knows to have found an ampler grace in his own night and in his troubled bed.

Moses and Samuel, among the other virtues in which they shone excellently, set forth that surpassing example of charity, that they devoutly interceded for their enemies. The one indeed for the people that was stoning him, the other 414Afor the people that was casting him out from his princedom. The one with so great charity that he asked of the Lord either that their sin be forgiven them, or that he himself be blotted out of the book of life. The other declares that he prays no less devoutly for those casting him down. Who would not wonder at the humility of David, the man, namely, whom God found according to his own heart? Who after so great and so glorious deeds did not lift himself up into pride, but rather called himself a dead dog or one single flea. Who manifests that he had had both outward and inward humility by these words, in which he says: I will play and become viler than I have been, and I will be humble in my own eyes (II Reg. VI). For he did not refuse outward vileness, and inwardly he was abject in his own judgment. How many such were there under the law, or even in the time of grace, who afforded of themselves wholesome 414Bexamples of the virtues? Through these, therefore, the bride also seeks the beloved, and through them kindles herself into the love of him.

I sought, and I found him not (Cant. III) [Vulg. Cant. 3:1, the place cited, reads quaesivi illum, et non inveni; the wording printed here is that of Cant. 5:6, which the previous chapter cites as (Cant. V)]. The bride sought the beloved through the streets and the broad ways, and did not find him to her wish. For she has not yet felt his presence, has not yet received the grace desired. Nor must I doubt but that in her going about she acquired much, and increased much grace in herself. Since indeed from the knowledge of good men and of their virtues the desire of justice was kindled in her not a little. For she came near 414Cto those burning with this fire which the Lord Jesus sent upon the earth, and willed that it be vehemently kindled. To whom, while one lukewarm draws near, he grows warm, and one fervent pardons the more [ignoscit; read ignescit, "catches fire the more"]. But not because she has acquired grace is she still from seeking an ampler grace: her desires have been kindled, not fulfilled, stirred up, not stilled, and by as much as they have grown, by so much do the things she has received suffice her less. The increase of grace has stirred up hunger, so far that by as much as she has received more, by so much does she desire more. The bad or the lukewarm man, because he does not love or desire the good, knows not his own defect, nor to how great things he is held. Whence, though he be needy, he reckons himself rich, because he knows not the spiritual riches. For he says, "I am rich, and I need nothing," when he is wretched and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked; but the good man and one advancing 414Ddoes not attend to what he has, but stretches himself always to the things before. And because he thinks that he has never laid hold, he is always humbled out of desire. In one advancing, therefore, with grace growing, humility also grows, and by as much as he is rich, by so much does he believe himself needy, because grace, once tasted, kindles him the more. And so the bride advances: for by as much as she is kindled to love, by so much is she humbled. She believes that she has not yet found grace, while she attends to the virtues of the perfect, whence she says: I sought and I found him not. She says that she has not found him whom she found so perfectly in others. So Antony, the greatest of monks, after he had found Paul whom he had sought, judged himself to be nothing in comparison with him, saying: "Woe to me a sinner, who bear the false name of a monk." This 415Athe finding of Paul afforded him, that he who before had stood forth as the greatest of monks now said that he was not worthy even of the name of a monk. Which is wonderful in imitation, since one highest in the merit of sanctity became by his own judgment the lowest, and one so lofty before God became so cheap to himself. But how lofty do we think this vileness of himself made him? I know not whether any virtue in Antony, however lofty, exalted him before God as much as that casting-down of himself, and that annulling of all the merits which he had had before. And so he believed that he had not yet found Christ, whom he beheld dwelling so excellently in Paul. Behold how much the finding of Paul, and the knowledge of his sanctity, conferred upon Antony. So the bride believed that she had not found the beloved, while by searching out she came to know the virtues of the perfect. Whom 415Bshe seeks also not only in the more perfect, but in her equals, or even in her inferiors. Since indeed these too can likewise be called streets and broad ways, the good, namely, and the middling. In these she explores and considers the gift of some grace which they have specially received, and venerates it, and strives to imitate it. For he who fears God neglects nothing; he holds nothing to be despised whereby he may receive an advancement of salvation. By how much therefore she is great, she humbles herself in all things, not refusing to be amended even by the lowest. For in these she sometimes finds examples of imitation and of advancing, which she may profitably set before herself. For good men are wont to kindle their virtues in turn, and the one to take from the other advancement and the incitements of humility 415Calike. Whence it comes about that, while this one considers that one's patience, and that one this one's obedience; this one that one's charity, and that one this one's cleanness, always the one takes from the other whereby he may grow into good. For they are much girded to the zeal of amendment when they see in others the good which they themselves have less. And while in turn they think each other their superiors, and the one reveres and loves the other's good, by loving it he makes it his own, and keeps himself in humility. So Paul did not attend to it that he had labored in preaching more than all the apostles, but looks upon the innocence of others, and because he himself had persecuted the Church of God, he calls himself the least of the apostles (II Cor. XV). But Peter does not consider that he is the first of the apostles, but wonders at the wisdom in Paul, 415Dand in a certain place commends this concerning him (II Petr. III). For neither was Peter less than Paul, who bore him up with praises; nor was Paul less than the apostles, who judged himself the least. But it was necessary that they who were great before God should seem small to themselves. And they who were adorned with all the virtues ought to be graced also with the virtue of humility. For it is the greatest beauty of the soul, if after the perfection of all the virtues it possess humility, and, being of great merit, know not that it is great. Blessed Job knew not that he was great, who said: If I shall be simple, of this very thing shall my soul be ignorant (Job IX). For he esteemed his own goods small, because he was always fervent toward greater ones. And so the perfect, that is, the truly humble, know and judge their own reprehensible things, and, dissembling the evils of others, 416Arather weigh their goods, being strict judges of themselves, but merciful of others: whence, when they behold some small goods in others, they hope for greater in them. But when they themselves have done many things, they reckon themselves useless servants. And so it comes about that they think well of others, but grow cheap to themselves, and believe themselves inferior to their lesser ones. So the bride, not considering her own merits, nor setting them before her eyes, fixes her consideration upon the grace conferred on others. She rejoices together with those receiving the gifts of grace, she rejoices together with God the bestower, she is reminded of the beloved through his members, and through his members is the more inflamed toward the beloved. And when she considers the gifts of his liberality, which he has bestowed on divers persons, she kindles her own desires in herself anew: whence she repeats her devout complaint, saying: I sought and I found not.

• 416B

The watchmen who keep the city found me (Cant. III). The soul thus desiring, thus seeking, is found by the watchmen who keep the city, namely the holy angels, who keep the city, that is, the Church or the faithful, and by whose keeping the mercy of Christ fortifies its own. And they are rightly called watchmen, because they watch and are solicitous about the elect, that they may be defended from temptation, that they may make progress in good, and that they may be saved. For they are ministering spirits, sent forth in ministry for the sake of those who receive the inheritance of salvation. By their ministry and vigilance God protects his faithful; he that keepeth Israel does not slumber, neither does he sleep. Our adversary, 416Chowever, goes about like a lion, seeking whom he may devour. Some he devours as a lion, whom he casts down by open battle, and others he seduces by hidden fraud; for these, as is read in Job, he hides a snare in the earth, and sets a trap upon the path (Job I); because he both deceives them through earthly desires, and sets there the nooses of his deception where he sees the path of their heart to be, and sees them prone to sinning. Thus the enemy goes about to deceive. But the holy angels run to and fro to defend. This discord is carried on between the angels of peace and the angels of discord. Thus is the contest waged for man, and he does not watch for himself, but grows torpid. For it behooves him to see, to watch and to pray, both to see and to consider his own peril, to watch over his own salvation, 416Dand to pray and implore help against temptation. For how many does that lion devour, how many does the destroying angel put to death, of those who do not have the sign of the living God on their foreheads, who do not have both their doorposts and the lintel of the house anointed with the blood of the Lamb of God; who do not have faith working through love, and do not deserve to be fortified and defended by the banner of the cross of Christ or by the power of his passion. Nor does Leviathan wonder if he swallow these down: for he shall swallow up a river, and shall not wonder, the evil, that is, and the carnal, who flow away after the manner of water and run down from sin to sin, and by the slipperiness of vices descend to the depths of torments. Even, alas! he has confidence that the Jordan may flow into his mouth, that is, the elect, over whom he trusts to prevail. O how great 417Aa multitude of the swallowed, and how small a number of the rescued. But the merciful Lord hides his own in his tabernacle (that is, in the Church) in the day of evils, and protects them in the hidden place of his tabernacle (that is, in Christ), who is called the hidden place of the Church, because he dwells secretly and invisibly in his elect through charity; inasmuch indeed as it is joined to them, and they are protected through faith and through the power of his passion from the tempter, the devil. For because Christ by his passion conquered the enemy, by the power of that same passion he fortifies his own, that they may not fear the foe, since they are made members of him who triumphed over him. God is indeed faithful, who does not suffer his own to be tempted above that which they can bear, but with the temptation makes also an issue. So ordering and tempering temptations, 417Bthat from the very thing by which the enemy seeks to cast them down they may be tried, and being tried may the more be crowned. It happens besides that, in assailing them (so far as to separate them from God), he rather joins them to God, because, while they are tempted, they are more humbly made subject to God that they may be delivered from temptation. Whence blessed Job says that the beasts of the earth (namely, the demons) are made peace-making toward the good (Job V). He does not say pacatae, because they do not have peace, but pacificatae, because they make peace for them while by assailing them they afflict them. God therefore turns to a crown for his own that which the enemy works for their ruin. But he does not so reckon it, but his heart is set on crushing, and on the destruction of not a few nations. Thus God hides the elect in the Church, in the day of evils he protects them in himself, he fortifies them by the keeping of angels. These he shows forth 417Cto his own as ministers and messengers, that they may minister to them for salvation, and announce their necessities, and carry their prayers. And although he himself sees and knows the causes of every one, he yet wills that this be announced to him through his angels, so that he may commend his charity and his condescension toward man, and for the sake of messengers so worthy and so beloved may bestow more fully.

Nor is it a wonder that he shows forth his angels as ministers to the elect, and himself as well. For he too is himself the angel of great counsel, namely of our redemption and salvation, which he was sent to work in the midst of the earth. He ministers to us indeed by his manner of life and his humility, offering in himself an example of living, and setting himself as a little one in the midst of the disciples (that is, as humble), that we may be made little ones as he is. He ministered 417Dto us also by his death, in which he labored for us that we might not labor, and bore a temporal death that we might not bear an eternal one. Therefore the Lord ministered to us in this life, and passing over out of this life also he will minister to us in that refreshment of twofold sweetness, because he will feed us with the milk of his humanity and the honey of his divinity. The ministry of the angels too is not only temporal to us, but also everlasting, because through their present help we shall receive the inheritance and eternal salvation, and shall enjoy their joy with them without end. But how do we suppose they love our salvation, and how greatly do they desire to have us as partners with them? Who could estimate with how great charity and care they watch over those committed to them? how they rouse the torpid, and kindle the more the solicitous and 418Afervent? How on this side they excuse evils, on that present good things to the divine gaze; how they defend, or obtain grace for these? And when they have looked upon a soul fervent with great desire, and sighing to God with pure intention, how do we suppose they love her, and rejoice together with her, and turn aside to her? How do they run to and fro between her and God? Since indeed they are the friends of the Bridegroom, they listen to her voice, which they make the Bridegroom hear; her voices are her desires: these cry out vehemently in the ear of the Bridegroom, these the friends listen to, namely the angels; in these they delight, these they announce, and they invite her to come, they console her, and admonish her to seek and to knock, for the reason that he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it is opened. 418BAnd so meanwhile they frequent and visit the soul thus fervent, until the Bridegroom comes, and by the increase of a fuller grace they prepare her more fully for the coming of the Bridegroom himself. They draw her thought to understand their presence and to learn their familiarity, so far that from this acquaintance she may grow and advance to the divine. The soul therefore, seeking God, is found by these, and after the circuit of the city, after her search, she merits the coming of the blessed angels, she perceives their meeting, by these she is received; for these come before the Bridegroom, they show forth their presence, they reveal themselves: for they are angels of light, they come with light; and being suffused with it, she is at once illumined and touched, that she may understand their coming and feel their presence. And while she perceives this grace, she confesses that she has been found 418Cby the watchmen, although she complains that she has not found the beloved. And so for the soul to have been found by the watchmen is for her to have found grace to feel their presence, she who before, suffering the darkness of her own blindness, felt nothing but herself. Then she directs her desire and her thought upon them, and forms a familiar colloquy as it were with acquaintances, she insinuates her vows, announces her love, asks about the Bridegroom. Have you seen him whom my soul loves? She seeks them as witnesses of her love, and equally of the longed-for presence of the Bridegroom. For certainly she knows that the angels of God enjoy his vision, and are not ignorant of her love and her desires, and she wonders and reckons it as it were undue, that they should see God and leave her destitute of that vision, she who would say: Have you not already long since seen him whom you have the desire 418Dto enjoy, and in him my desires? The beloved declares that he stands at the door of the soul and knocks; and if any one shall open to him, he will come in to him, and will sup with him. I have already openly opened my door through desire of him, and he does not enter. Moreover, I have entered in to him: and I knock at his door, which he promises will be opened to him who knocks. And forgetful of both promises, he neither enters into mine nor opens his to me. I stand, and he does not look upon me; I knock, and he does not open; I cry out, and he does not answer; I seek him, and I do not find him. Whither then has he gone? Have you not seen him, you who are angels always seeing him, since you always see the face, and he and the Father are one, and he who sees the one sees also the other? Therefore him who does not enter my door, nor open his own, and 419Aaccordingly is found neither with me nor with himself, I shall seek with you, of you I shall inquire, to you I shall pass over, that with you I may find him whom my soul loves, the Bridegroom of the Church, etc.

When I had passed by them a little, I found him whom my soul loves (Cant. III). In his threefold creation God can be searched out and known: in the world and in the things created for its adornment, in man, and in the angel. These the soul that thirsts for God goes round one by one, and passes by, that she may find him whom she seeks. From the visible appearance of the world, once beheld, she considers the invisible Creator. For these things, when beheld, give her to know that the Lord himself 419Bis God, and that he made this world, and not the world itself. But this vision is common to all, that is, to the evil as much as to the good. For in this manner all men see God, as is read in Job, so that every one beholds him afar off (Job XXXVI), because God is seen outwardly, and not in himself. In this manner the philosophers saw him, who nevertheless did not find him through love. Whence from this vision she passes over to man, who also passes by in the image, although he has lost the likeness, and in whom God is more familiarly seen, inasmuch as in the image of his soul, which represents him in itself through reason and understanding. But she does not pass over to all men, but only to the good and the spiritual. For she does not direct herself to those walking the broad way, which leads to death, but to those who straiten themselves for the sake of the 419Ckingdom of heaven, whom above she calls streets or lanes, and by whom she designates the less perfect or the more perfect. In these she finds not only the image of God, but in part the likeness, in so far as they have advanced in the virtues, or have climbed up to perfection. But because she does not find in these a full likeness (although she finds some), in order that she may comprehend more fully and contemplate more nearly, she passes over to that which contemplates more nearly, namely to the angelic creation, in which she considers the likeness fully, inasmuch as it is the seal of the likeness, and in which the likeness signed from the beginning perseveres. Men, however good, however holy, nevertheless see in the night, that is, in obscurity, but the angel at noonday, that is, in full knowledge. For as 419Dblessed Job says, the stars are darkened with the gloom of this night (Job III), because even those who shine with virtues and with holiness of life are darkened by the shadows of human blindness. The angel is suffused with the light of perfect contemplation. For he is the brightness of the eternal light and the mirror without stain of the divine majesty, who, as he is in no part distant from God, so seeing God perfectly and as he is, represents him also in himself, since he is a clean and transparent mirror to him who directs the eyes of his heart upon him, eyes cleansed, however, more fully from sins and vices, and even from the images of them. For vices darken, and their images also beat back, and hinder contemplation and hide knowledge: he therefore who looks into this mirror, so as to consider the cleanness of these, sends clean 420Aeyes of the heart into it. In this mirror the likeness of God shines back to him. For they are clean as that One is clean; they are holy, as the Lord their God is holy. Finally, from that clean one he passes over to the author of cleanness, and from the holy to the Holy of holies, from the contemplating to him who is to be contemplated, and at once he finds the beloved. For these are so near to him that there is scarcely any middle between these and him, and after these there is nothing to find but him. Therefore, the beloved having been found, congratulating the angels and calling to mind the benefit obtained through them, she says accordingly: When I had passed by them a little, I found him whom my soul loves. Because straightway, as soon as I passed these by, I found the beloved; these I passed by that I might come, and through these I passed over that I might find: for by their meeting and their help I obtained what I longed for, 420Bwho both provoked and kindled my desire, and obtained the meeting of the beloved. The finding of the Bridegroom, therefore, is the experience and revelation of his presence.

To the soul that seeks, indeed, and does not cease from her intention, he shows himself at last and comes to meet her vows. And with him present the soul is made new, and, as it were cleaving to him, she feels the sweetness of an inward taste, spiritual understanding, the illumination of faith, the increase of hope, the incitement of charity, the affection of compassion, the zeal of justice, the delight of the virtues; she has in prayer a familiar colloquy with God, feeling that she is heard and for the most part graciously heard, speaking face to face with God, and hearing what the Lord God speaks in her, in prayer constraining God, and at times convincing him. Illumined by this 420Cgrace, she begins to see the darkness of her own heart, to know herself, to discern in what manner vices hide themselves under the appearance of virtues, or secretly ally themselves to them. For a new day arises in the mind after the night of ignorance, and there comes the daybreak in which she rises to offer the holocaust of contrition for each of the virtues, lest perchance they have been imperfect, or less pure, and to burn up whatever of the carnal has been mingled in them. For the spirit of man is at times carried toward another good to which something carnal is annexed, which delights his humanity and secretly draws him, but he does not know it. Again, how often does someone believe himself to be moved by the spirit to do something, when he is moved by carnality, or by natural things, or by levity, or by some cause 420Dor occasion. Finally, at times a man does something before the time, or too late, or without discretion. These shadows and hidden evils she detects and judges, and the daybreak of compunction shows the man to himself, namely that he is less in good than he believed, that he has received only the beginning of grace, that he has lain in the night, that he has come to daybreak diliculum, and not to the full day. Therefore, just as, being illumined through the grace received, he knows himself, so through that same grace he understands that what he has found is but little exignum. Elias, after he had heard the whistling of a light air, in which he learned that the Lord was, covered his face with his cloak, and stood in the mouth of the cave (III Reg. XIX). So a man, grace having been perceived and, through it, known in his perfection [in perfectione; read imperfectione, "his imperfection"], covers his face with his cloak; because he recognizes with how great ignorance he is covered, and he stands in the mouth of the cave, 421Abecause after the night of his blindness now known he desires to go out from the vice of corruption and to come to the day of grace that is dawning upon him. The slack and the blind man neither sees himself nor loves grace, because he is wrapped in his own shadows, and is ignorant of the light of grace. The devout soul, illumined by grace, just as she sees herself, so, thinking little of herself, is humbled; and just as she understands grace, so she is the more inflamed to desire it. Humbled therefore, and desiring, and pleading with herself about her poverty, she recalls that she has found the beloved a little, not perfectly, nor to her vow.

I held him, nor will I let him go, until I bring him into the house of my mother, and into the chamber of her that bore 421Bme (Cant. III). The soul, although she has received this grace, is nevertheless not forgetful of her imperfection, nor overmuch confident of the gift of God, and she recalls that she has many times been carnally affected by her own will and borne by the spirit, that she has not yet perfectly corrected her manners, nor laid hold of the virtues of Christ. She desires therefore that her effect be purged, her will mortified, her own spirit fail, and that she put on Christ, as the Apostle says: Put on the Lord Jesus Christ (Rom. XIII). For although she has found the beloved, she does not yet bring him into her lodging, and what she has received was as it were outside, not within, in desire and not in effect. She understands that she has been visited and consoled, but that she is not yet such a one with whom the beloved would tarry, and have a dwelling until she perfectly fail from herself. To 421Cthis therefore she asks to be helped, and to advance so far that Christ may be formed in her, and that she may now not herself live, but that Christ may live in her. But until she comes to this state, she declares that she will not rest, nor cease from insistence in prayers, saying: I held him, nor will I let him go, etc. God is held by the devotion of prayer, by desire, by importunity, by memory, by entreaty, by faith and by the expectation of being heard, and he is not let go if there be no ceasing from the intention, nor any further turning of the face to other things. And so she holds the beloved, although it be the dawn, and she does not let him go until he shall have blessed her. She wrestled with him all the night in which she slept, but her heart kept watch, because, that is, she ceased from outward occupation and labored in seeking the beloved. Also, 421Dalthough through the night she has come to the dawn, she does not cease from the wrestling, namely from insistence in prayer, nor does she let the beloved go unless he give a blessing, that she may go from virtue to virtue, and see the God of gods in Sion, that is, in beholding through a mirror and in a riddle him whom she cannot see as he is while she lives in the body. This blessing she seeks, and the changing of her name, that she may now be called not Jacob, but Israel, and that she may have no more need to supplant vices. For Jacob is interpreted supplanter, but that, the vices being overcome and driven out, she may enjoy the purity of the virtues and contemplate God; because Israel is interpreted seeing God. For to purity of heart God is promised as to be lived [vivendus; read videndus, "to be seen"], as it is written: Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God (Matth. V). This blessing 422Ahaving been received, she will limp on one foot, because she who walked with double desires, feeling indeed carnal things but consenting to spiritual, will now, the vices being more perfectly mortified and carnality withering away, be borne by spiritual desires only. Sighing therefore for this purity and perfection, she says: I held him, nor will I let him go, until I bring him into the house of my mother. Our mother is the grace of the Spirit, which spiritually regenerates us. Whose house is the human mind, in which that same grace is received. Into this house she desires to bring the beloved, that as she has found him, so she may abide and dwell with him. For she desires to retain in herself the grace received, to pour it into her manners, and to be transformed in her manner of life. Christ abides in that soul which has possessed his virtues, 422Bhumility, meekness, patience, obedience and charity. And likewise she who keeps his commandments, and as he walked so she also walks: If any one loves me, he says, he will keep my commandments [Vulg. sermonem meum servabit, "will keep my word"], and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and will make our dwelling with him (Joan. XIV). Such a one therefore both truly loves, and brings Christ into the house of the mind. That affectionate love, by which we said above that the love of the soul is signified, at times more affects him who loves less and is less more perfect. For each one does not love so much as he feels this affection, and so much as in that state he seems to himself to love, but so much as he has been grounded in the virtues and in charity, and is held faithful in keeping the commandments. A sweet affection toward God is in a certain way carnal, 422Cand deceptive, and at times rather of humanity than of grace, of the heart than of the spirit, of sensuality than of reason; so that it sometimes goes rather toward the lesser good, and less toward the greater, and toward something which has more savor than is expedient. By this affection the disciples went astray, and loved God carnally, whose presence they were unwilling to be without. Whence they were even charged with not loving; what of it, that they embraced what delighted rather than what was expedient. Thus some carnal and imperfect person is at times affectionately affected toward God, not because he greatly loves, but because he tastes the sweetness of grace, which helps just so long as it lasts; as long as the sweetness lasts, so long the love also lasts. But a friend will not be known in good things. For in that day the Lord 422Dindeed commands his mercy, but in the night of temptations and labors he declares in his precepts how much each one loves. By the visitation of grace God consoles our faintheartedness, helps our infirmity, arouses our will. And what wonder if the infirm man be anointed with grace, when even the evil man confesses to the Lord when he has done well to him? And so it happens that the fainthearted man, greedy of love, is more moved by this love, and he in whom sensuality and carnal appetite rather than reason bears rule. At times he feels it the more who is light of heart and poor in grace: for he is more easily moved who has been the lighter, and one who is without consolation receives more delightfully what is offered. The cause therefore of this sweet affection is at times not an abundance of grace, but a poverty of mind. For small things gladden 423Athe poor man. Not every one who says: Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven. Not every one, because again and again he says: Lord, sweetly (namely, affectionately) shall enter, but he who shall have done the will of the Father, who shall have kept the commandments. Call me and I will answer thee [Vulg. Vocabis me, et ego respondebo tibi, "Thou shalt call me, and I will answer thee"], says blessed Job (Job XIV). God calls through visiting grace, and man will answer through the fulfilling of the commandments; the calling does not make perfect, but obliges; the answer through the commandments justifies. For sometimes this sweet affection comes from an evil spirit, so that while too much is believed of it, and while it greatly delights it is clung to, a man is brought to weakness of heart. Again, so that through occupation with it he may be called away from more useful work. And again, so that someone, relying on the abundance of it, may believe himself perfect, and be less exercised toward the perfect. 423BSometimes too a man of himself abuses grace, by receiving it in vain, or by omitting some more useful work, or by setting in it the end of his own advancement. For as the spirit of the prophets is recorded to be subject to the prophets, so this grace is made subject to man, that he may use it either well or ill: through it therefore he offends who does not know its use, just as virtue too is turned into id vice, if it be exercised too much, or out of season. The bride therefore sought the offence [delictum; read dilectum, "the beloved"] affectionately and likewise longingly, but when he was found she was no less solicitous to bring him in to herself. For a fuller grace is to be sought diligently, and there must be no ceasing, but progress must be made through it, until one comes to ac perfection. Before I eat I sigh, says blessed Job (Job III). 423CBefore anyone sighs he does not eat, because unless he desire and seek this grace, he does not receive its refreshment. Nor, unless he advance through it, does he attain to perfection. This grace is food, because it refreshes; it is light, because it illumines. For it reveals to a man his own evils, and strengthens him that he may be able to correct them; his own peril having been known, he receives it, who neglects to correct himself through it and to advance to inward things. But the fervent soul, lest she receive it in vain, labors always to make progress, and diligently tills her own field by bettering her manners and by cultivating the virtues, that she may build the house of the mind into which she may bring the beloved.

• 423D

But it does not suffice the bride to have brought the beloved into the house of the mind, unless she bring him also into her chamber, where she may enjoy him more familiarly and more secretly, and be alone with him alone, and converse with him, and, all others being removed, be present at his counsels, know his secrets, learn his hidden purposes, and where God may make manifest to her the uncertain and hidden things of his wisdom. There she desires to hear the hidden word, that is, the inward and hidden inspiration, which in Job is called a hidden word (Job IV), because it is granted to few, or because it is enjoined silently to the ear of the heart. And this word she is declared to hear in the night, when deep sleep is wont to seize upon men, that is, when, the desires of the flesh being trodden down, 424Athe stillness of the mind is possessed. In the silence of the night, therefore, when God is secretly with her in her chamber, when all things are pacified and still, when peace is had within from the disturbance of vices, and without from every unquietness and occupation, when the vices are silent, and the memory of all sins, and the outward senses too are lulled to sleep, and the memory of worldly things. And so, when there has been so great stillness, and all things are already silent, then at last the voice of God can be heard, which does not only speak, but whispers, that is, thinly and secretly makes something manifest to the human mind. And not only the whisper of God, but also the veins of his whisper does the soul then receive by stealth, because she understands the subtlety of the divine inspiration, and the origins of the causes by which grace comes to the mind. For in diverse ways 424BGod visits, because now he pricks with the mind by the desire of divine love, now by the hope and joy of future recompense, now by the delight of some virtue, now by the knowledge of her own imperfection, now by the fear of punishment, and by the recollection of sins, or by the manifestation of some peril or negligence, now by the memory of a good thing, now by the example and grace of some perfect man. In these and other ways grace visits the mind, and not always in the same way, but now in this, now in that. For as in diverse persons there are diverse gifts, and distributions of the Spirit, so that this one receives this grace, that one that: so in one and the same man there are diverse visitations of the Spirit. The soul therefore with whom God whispers in silence knows and discerns these things, and according to the manner in which she is visited 424Cshe conforms and directs herself. For she knows the discretion of grace and its use, she understands too its presence or absence, its coming also and its departure, the causes also of its coming, the motions and thoughts, the forerunners and the heralds of grace. And that humility above all things merits it she has learned by frequent experience, and she understands the manifold and hidden manners, or motions, of humility. Nor is it doubted that she offers a sacrifice pleasing to God, and heaps up grace for herself, as often as she abases and humbles herself for God's sake. In order therefore that she may obtain it more abundantly, she follows the footsteps of humility as much in thought as in work. In mind she abases herself by her own judgment, and outwardly for God's sake she subjects 424Dherself to men and puts herself after them, she chooses abjection, she makes herself contemptible, that she may be precious with God, she humbles herself that she may be exalted, she rejoices in reproaches; for she knows that for contumely she will receive grace from God, for reviling a blessing. David understood this, who, when Semei cursed him, chose rather to suffer him than to be avenged through his soldier, foreseeing that for that cursing good would be rendered him by the Lord. Thus God gives grace to the humble, but resists the proud. But who could know an old and ingrained pride, who its hidden roots and its subtle thoughts, by which for the most part it creeps in latently, and steals upon those who do not even know it, save when God whispers (that is, secretly reveals it)? Which, the more it is spread abroad in the mind, so much the less is it known, because through it the mind is the more 425Ablinded. So also in words and in action it lies hid in manifold ways, nor is it known, unless one be instructed by grace to know it. And so pride lies hid in the soul, and the soul herself does not know it; but God sees this, because he beholds hidden things, and therefore he withdraws his grace, or does not grant it. Not only therefore for manifest, but also for hidden, and not for greater only, but also for lesser pride is the mind dried up of grace: I will make desert, says the Lord, the mountains and the hills, and I will dry up all their shoot [Vulg. (Isa. 42:15) gramen, "grass"] (Psal. XLII); designating by the mountains the greater, the proud, and by the hills the lesser. These mountains are dried up and grow parched, but the valleys, that is, the humble, are watered with the water of grace, and abound with spiritual grain. To understand latently these mountains, and the origins of visiting grace 425Band the causes of meriting or demeriting it, is to receive by stealth the veins of the divine whisper. These veins creep silently and with a light murmur, and are not heard by an unquiet mind, and one in which vices, or any disturbances, make an uproar and cry out. And so the understanding of these things is perceived and learned in the chamber (that is, in the secret place of the mind), where all things are shut out but God, where the soul alone whispers with him alone; this is the solitude into which God leads the soul, that he may speak to her heart. There she can hear what the Lord God speaks in her. There he opens to her the inward ears only: for the ears of the heart lie open; the tumult of secular business closes them, and the stillness of secret consideration opens them. Then 425Cthe mind pierces the words of God more keenly, when it refuses to admit to itself the tumult of secular cares. This chamber is a school, where she may learn in silence, where the secrets of the precepts may be taught, where she may be instructed in the knowledge of the divine will, in the knowledge of manners, in the discretion of virtues, in the contemplation of spiritual things. To this chamber the soul ought to withdraw, as Moses to the tabernacle of the covenant, to consult the Lord concerning doubtful matters, concerning the ordering of the house of her mind, concerning the things to be done in it, concerning her own state, concerning the spiritual and bodily necessities of others, concerning the love of God, concerning the love or the defense of justice, concerning the discretion of zeal to be exercised, concerning the time for overlooking excesses, concerning compassion for offenders, concerning strictness. Here she daily examines and searches out 425Dher inward and outward things, and what her meditation is, or about what it especially is or ought to be; what her speech is, moderate or dissolute, humble or proud; and likewise what her working is, strenuous or slack; finally what the disposition of the whole house is, and what things in it are to be corrected, what to be borne with. But in so far as she comes to purity of conscience, in however great a measure by mortifying her own will she has joined it to the divine, and made herself one with God, in so far does she know spiritual things and understand the will of God. In order therefore that she may perceive this grace, she rightly desires to bring the beloved into the chamber, that is, the secret place of stillness, of meditation, of prayer, where she may be still from outward things, may learn by inward and mystical meditation, and may obtain by prayer.

• 426A

I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and the harts of the fields, that you stir not up, nor make the beloved to awake, until she herself will (Cant. III). With much labor, insistence and prayer the bride found the beloved, and at last brought him into her chamber. Whence it is fitting that after her weariness she should at last rest, and enjoy the beloved whom she has laid hold of with so many sweats and runnings to and fro, and not easily be torn away from love of him. God therefore pleads on her behalf and admonishes that she be not roused from her sweet sleep (that is, from the stillness of divine love), nor drawn away from the secret of the chamber to the care of governing. For in this chamber she not only enjoys the embraces of the beloved and 426Bcarries through her own affairs, but also attends to the necessities of others. And in diverse ways she here enjoys God, namely now as Bridegroom, now as teacher, now as father; now she entreats him for herself, now by prayers she bends and appeases him for others, now she sleeps in his love, now she contemplates, now she orders and arranges certain things with him, now she hears from him and is taught, now she enjoys his embraces. For she has with him embraces and kisses, she has offspring and breasts, but all these things not material or carnal, but chaste and wholesome. In these embraces God clasps and is clasped, because he first brings in and insinuates his will to the soul with a certain sweetness: and when the soul has been aroused by this charity, while she joins herself to him who calls and draws her, she as it were clasps him who clasps 426Cher. For in these embraces God clasps first, and thus in turn the soul clasps, because it belongs to the worthier or the more ample lover to clasp first; whence he also first loved us, that we might be able to love him, and he showed forth besides that charity than which no one can show forth a greater or an equal. And so God embraces the soul when he draws her to himself through grace and joins her to himself. He kisses her when he refreshes her with the sweetness of his grace; he makes her fruitful when he increases charity. Her breasts grow fat with milk when she is filled with the sweetness of compassion. There is there a spiritual wedlock, namely a concord and a conjunction of wills. There it is not a carnal coupling that makes the womb fruitful, but the Holy Spirit that impregnates the mind with twin offspring (that is, with a twofold charity), namely the love of God and of the neighbor. 426DHence the soul becomes a wife; she has received the breasts of piety which before she did not have, when she was still a little one, but now she has learned to have compassion on sinners, yet to be indignant in a youthful manner. Here she sleeps with Christ, while she closes her eyes to outward things and knows inward things through contemplation. In which sleep, with Jacob, she sees the angels ascending and descending (Gen. XXVIII), ascending to the contemplation of God, descending to the visitation of man. She contemplates in the angel this alternation of the vision of God and of the visitation of man, how they both cleave to God and condescend to us, and carry through our cause with God. She contemplates and considers also the souls now reigning with Christ, namely what affection they have toward us, and how they desire to have us as partners 427Awith them, and bestow upon us their help and intercession, and bear solicitude for us. For through these are the daughters of Jerusalem adjured, that they stir not up the beloved; because, just as they cleave to the love of the Creator and yet bear and carry through the care of man's salvation, so the perfect soul both rests in the love of God and attends to the salvation of her neighbors. She is also adjured through these; because with these and among these she runs to and fro for those to be saved, and prays not only to God, but also to these, and implores their help. To these she announces man's necessity, with these she labors in this business. Well therefore is she adjured through these, inasmuch as they are privy to and witnesses of her charity, and of her industry, and of her necessary occupation about her neighbors. For these are the roes and the harts of the fields (namely the angelic creation, and men) 427Bwhose souls have already passed over to the kingdom of heaven. These roes both seek the heights and look out from afar; because, being lifted up by lofty contemplation, while they behold God, they know in him whatever is done lower down in his creation. The harts too pass through thorn-brakes, and overcome vineunt venom. So the souls of the saints, leaping over the thorns of sins, and overcoming the venom of the enemy's suggestions and the malice of the world, have already leapt over to the kingdom. And the field of the roes indeed is the happiness of that life. But the field of the harts is the spaciousness of this world. Yet the roes pass over to this field by the condescension of charity, and the harts have leapt over to that one by desire and by faith. These harts, still dwelling in the body, have leapt over thither, because their feet, that is their affections, were standing in 427Cthe courts of Jerusalem. But now in soul they have passed over thither, and afterward they are to come thither in body also. To these the bride too leaps over by contemplation, with these she has carried over with herself the care of her neighbors, with these she pleads their cause inwardly before God. Rightly therefore does the Bridegroom admonish that she be not stirred up, for the reason that she is well occupied about the salvation of her neighbors.

And the carnal solicitude and trouble is indeed good, but the spiritual occupation and care about many is better and more sublime, inasmuch as it is familiar both to God and to the citizens of heaven, and abiding, and more secure. The outward occupation indeed, that is servitude, because bodily labor too is performed in it. Inward solicitude and prayer is a more sublime and worthier office. The former 427Dserves, while it renders a ministry; the latter obtains with God by merits and by familiarity. The Lord says that the harvest is great, and admonishes that he be entreated to send laborers into it. Which the perfect soul is most of all able to accomplish, who cleaves to God by the familiarity of devotion; she now beseeches God to send laborers into the harvest, now that he grant to this harvest the grace to work usefully. The active man occupies a part of this harvest by outward ministry, but the contemplative occupies the whole harvest by the help of prayer. For there are two lives, the active namely and the contemplative, which are designated by Martha and Mary; Martha labors without, Mary prays within. Tell Die her, says Martha, that she help me, (Luc. X); well does she help her who implores the divine help for her, because in vain would she spend labor, 428Aplant and water, unless God gave the increase. Magdalene therefore chose the best part, who exercises the grace of contemplation, and yet is occupied in her sister's part, so that she may be crowned also with the reward of the active life, in which by an equal charity she merits an equal reward. Martha labors in one place with the body about certain things, Mary in many places by charity about many things. For in the contemplation and love of God she sees all things, is enlarged to all things, comprehends and embraces all things, so that in comparison with her Martha may be called solicitous about few things. Greatly therefore is this one thing necessary, and deservedly to be preferred, in which the soul both cleaves to God through love and shows charity and solicitude to all. Well therefore does the bride watch in mind for her neighbors, although she sleep, that is 428Bbe still, from outward things in the body; nor ought she to be stirred up that she may awake, that is, watch outwardly, who thus watches inwardly by charity and prayer. And so the bride is well occupied, although she work not outwardly, because she strives at least to obtain for many, nay for all. The Bridegroom therefore forbids the daughters of Jerusalem (namely, the souls desiring to come to the vision of eternal peace) to stir her up and to draw her away to outward occupation. And she is for this reason also called beloved by him, because she rests in his love and carries through the salvation of many; but it is forbidden that she be stirred up until she herself will, for the reason that she is so joined to God and so thoroughly taught in the knowledge of his will, that for going out and returning at the divine judgment, a just and necessary cause urging it, she is prepared, and her charity is prudent and ordered, so that 428Cshe obeys the divine will, so that, according to the saying of the wise man, she has mercy on herself, pleasing God, nay, according to Wisdom itself, she first weeps over her own self. Nor only does she not entangle herself in secular business that she may please God, to whom she has proved herself, but she also withdraws herself from the necessities of her neighbors, by which she knows that she is weakened or entangled away from perfecting; yet she does this not out of unkindness, but out of prudence. Rightly, so long as the imperfect man has but a little of the oil of charity, whereby he himself only may be anointed, and has not yet deserved to be made solid through the inward gifts of grace, he does not wish to be entangled outwardly, nor let him seethe with worldly cares, nor let it befall her, by the wind of human converse and of mutability, to be dried up from that little which he has received. For outward occupation quickly changes and casts down the imperfect, because dying flies, 428Dthat is, worldly thoughts, spoil the sweet ointment of grace less firmly grounded in the soul (Eccle. X). He desires therefore to abound first for himself, that so he may be able to pour into others; with this oil he wishes rather to be anointed than to anoint, to pour out of a full vessel rather than to pour away, to flow rather than to flow off. For he who desires without discretion to profit others, and pours out before the time, remains always poor and empty of grace, and hinders his own progress, and profits others less. And so the prudent soul does not wish to be called away from the stillness and silence which cultivates her in justice, because the cultivation of justice requires silence, until that cultivation shall have come to fruit and maturity, namely until she shall have perfectly advanced; and until she be clothed with strength from on high she studies to abide in the city, 429Athat is, within the cloisters of conscience. For some men affect governing before the time, namely when they are still imperfect, and are drawn rather by carnal appetite than by the instinct of usefulness. But for the soul to feel this appetite and this will is not for her to will it, because that will is of the flesh, not of the spirit, and not her own but another's, if she herself does not love or follow it, but hates and detests it. She does not therefore will this, when carnality wills it. But when, carnality being mortified, she shall have willed only spiritually to profit her neighbors, then at last she is judged to will this; for this will is her own, because she consents to it. But the carnal will is not her own; because, while she strives against it, it is not she herself that works this, but the sin that dwells in her. Until therefore she shall have come to that state, that she will this spiritually 429Band not carnally, she ought not to be stirred up, nor taken up for the governing of others. But although the beloved shall have come to this spiritual will, Christ nevertheless admonishes that she be not stirred up until she will, because he knows her to be such that she will will it when it shall be opportune.

Who is she that goeth up by the desert, like a little rod of smoke from the spices of myrrh and frankincense, and of all the powder of the perfumer? (Cant. III.) The bride goes up by the desert, that is, by the lovers of this world, who are a desert, who are deserted by God, who desert him, 429Cwhen by their deeds they say to them: Depart from us, we desire not the knowledge of thy ways (Job XXI). Therefore they are deserted by him, and their house is left to them desert, so that they may not have God as an indweller within themselves. By these the bride goes up, because, dwelling with them in body, in mind she transcends them, seeking the things above; and spurning their lowest delights, she stays among carnal men, and does not imitate their perverse manners and life. The good, whether set far off or near, she heeds; to them she draws near aceedit in mind, and is joined to them in thought; she considers their examples, and conforms herself to their manner of life. Thus she is saved from this perverse generation, when she is separated from it, and passes over and transcends to the generation of those who seek the Lord: for it is difficult to be saved among the perverse, unless in this manner they are transcended 429Dand deserted, because their perverse manner of life draws and attracts, and their conversations and their talk corrupt. For to that which is frequently seen and heard the mind is easily conformed, because, as is commonly said, beside whomever a man sits, from him he also learns. To be set apart, then, from the fellowship of the evil, and to pass over to the good by love and to imitate them, this is to ascend, because it is to be raised on high spiritually. For as much as a man loves the good, so much does he become good, and so much does he ascend into God. The evil descend daily, because they fall headlong from sin into sin, and, being in filth, they grow yet more filthy. Again, the tempest of water, that is, sin, drowns them, and the deep swallows them up, that is, their iniquity enwraps them, and the pit shuts its mouth upon them, that is, the depth of iniquity, 430Awhen not only are they sunk in sins, but they also lose the entrance of confession. But the good ascend, because they go from virtue to virtue, and daily advance in charity, because charity is increased in them through interior goods, through the will and through works. While therefore the bride advances among those deserted by grace, and failing and descending, she goes up by the desert. This world is also called a desert, either because it is deserted and despised, or because it deserts itself and fails in itself. For daily, with time, the joys of time pass away, and as many as the days are, so many joys of the days go by and fail. As many days as a man has received for living, so many are cut away from him from living and from rejoicing; this, then, is for a man to live and to rejoice: to fail from life and joy. And he who enjoys 430Ba transitory joy is to be said not so much to rejoice as to learn joy [discere; read deserere, "to forsake"]; because his joy passes and perishes together with time. The world, therefore, is a desert, because it deserts and loses its own joys. Whence, in that the soul perfectly despises these joys and stretches toward the joy above and true, she goes up by the desert. This desert not only deserts its own delights, but is also barren and dries up, and has no fruit; for it cannot bear fruit to Christ, because it cannot receive the Spirit which is of God, because it has not known him, nor does it know him. But the devout soul, while she labors for the true joy, bears fruit in the barren and dry desert, and among things withering and slipping away brings forth fruit that may remain. Therefore, in this desert and in this land desert, pathless and waterless, to bear fruit and to bring forth 430Cthat which remains, this is to go up by the desert. And the bride goes up like a little rod of smoke from the spices of myrrh and frankincense, and of all the powder of the perfumer.

By myrrh we can understand the mortification and the contempt of earthly love or consolation, and by frankincense the desire of the things above and prayer. Every man is bound to this, that he mortify his members which are upon the earth, fornication and uncleanness, evil concupiscence and avarice, and the other deadly things, and likewise that he keep the commandments: for these belong to eternal life, and this is the justice which, if a man do it, he shall live in it. But the soul that wills to climb to a loftier degree 430Dought also to beware of the multitude of venial sins and of the lesser concupiscences, that she may deserve to perfect and to receive a fuller grace. For she ought to avoid carnal and vain thoughts, and likewise thoughts of suspicion, of anger and of bitterness, and the like; and earthly consolations too, namely in food and drink, in conversation, in seeing and hearing, in curiosity, in clothing, in sleep, in any liberty whatsoever; because, as much as she mortifies and spurns these delights and refuses to be consoled carnally, so much will she deserve to be consoled spiritually and to be quickened in grace. As much as grace finds the heart empty of these things, so much will it fill. As much as a man despises these falling things and steps over them, so much does he ascend, because so much does he pass from the lowest things to the things above. And so, after the mortification of the greater 431Asins, the soul that is advancing, and that wills to climb to the spiritual life, must mortify and tread down the lesser ones also. So blessed Job, after he had girded the loins of the flesh, was bidden also to gird the loins of the mind, that is, evil thoughts, by the Lord (Job XXXVIII), when he was to have converse with him, and was to make his command manifest to him. With blessed Job, therefore, the devout mind must gird these loins: for this myrrh, that is, mortification, belongs to the advancing or the perfect soul. With this she ought also to burn frankincense, because she ought not only to mortify earthly delights, but also to desire the things above, and to seek them with devout prayers. Assuredly the smoke of mortification rises together with that of desire and of prayer; 431Bbecause the one is propped up by the other, so that neither by itself can rise or please God. For we cannot desire the things above unless we despise earthly things, and we do not despise earthly things unless we are drawn by the desire of the things above. For the heart cannot be without delight, but it must therefore be drawn by some delight, because each man's own pleasure draws him: whence, when one delight is withdrawn from it, it is the more easily inclined to another, and because it is empty, it is the more disposed to take hold of something. So much the more, then, does it admit spiritual delight, as it is both without share in earthly consolation and does not desire to be delighted in anything.

Again, as much as we know eternal things, so much do we despise and condemn transitory ones: for this is that precious pearl, and he who finds it willingly forsakes all the things which he had before 431Cloved. The soul, therefore, burns myrrh when she despises earthly delights; but frankincense, when she desires and seeks the things above. But when with myrrh and frankincense the smoke of all the powder of the perfumer is declared to rise, he does not say "of all the pigment," but "of all the powder of the perfumer." For a pigment Pigmen is any virtue whatsoever or any work of virtue whatsoever, which is ground into powder when it is subtly examined and discerned, lest anything of evil lie hid in it, or it be done indiscreetly. The perfumer is the man who grinds this powder, that is, who examines his single works; for provision must be made that good things be done without an admixture of evils, because the greater evils slay good things, the lesser stain a man. Manifest evils, therefore, 431Dmust be guarded against. But because we cannot know all things, a general and hidden contrition must be had for these. For sometimes there is some sin in a man which lies hid from him, or which he does not know to be mortal. Let contrition, then, be the first pigment which we make and offer to God, because a general contrition blots out all deadly sins, hidden and manifest, and restores charity, if it has been lost. Whatever we do outside charity will by no means please, nor, however much we grind or crush it, will it be fragrant before God. Therefore, that all our works may be done in charity and that we may grind a powder pleasing to God, let us in the first place be contrite. Then the single works must be examined, alms, vigils, prayers and the other labors of the body: whether they are done purely for God's sake; whether something else is in 432Athe case, principally or secondarily; whether they are done with discretion and with due measure; whether the end is advancement and perseverance; whether there is the possibility of completing them; whether the time is one at which it is expedient that this be done; whether the manner, by what means and how much and how often, and so forth. Again, when something is to be left off, and when it is to be pressed more vehemently. Again, whether it be done with scandal to others or with loss; whether levity, inconstancy, curiosity drive to it; whether praise is sought, or steals in secretly; whether human delight, whether earthly advantage is to be examined; lastly, whether the virtues are pure, whether they are perfect; whether God is loved above all things; whether anything is set equal to his love or before it; whether love of one's neighbor is had; whether it is shown sincerely for God's sake; whether the friend is loved in God; whether this love is bestowed spiritually and 432Bnot carnally; whether the person is not received; whether the cause is considered.

For sometimes a man is moved by love, but by a carnal one, or he is led by a private love, so that it is not purely shown forth in God, or a man loves more that which is less to be loved, or the contrary. Again, it must be seen whether humility is true and not feigned or imperfect; whether a man is so cheap in his own eyes within that he does not bear proudly or impatiently an injury or a contempt inflicted from without; whether he so presses down and humbles himself outwardly that he is not proud within of this, but holds a lowly judgment of himself with himself, and truly feels himself within to be such as he shows himself without. Again, whether he is humble there where humility is honored, and shuns humility there where it is held in contempt. Again, whether he practices humility when he ought freely 432Cto set himself against injustice, and holds to patience when rather, being impatient of evils, he ought to be kindled with the fire of divine zeal, and to fail, not being able to bear that justice be despised and perversity prevail. For we ought not to endure it if any man devours, if any man is lifted up, if any man strikes us on the face. If he is lifted up and grows insolent against justice, or he who strikes us on the face with reviling, so that we are the cause, in our own fault or vice. If, sinning and buffeted, we bear it, we have no reward; but if not sinning, this is a patience pleasing to God. Again, it must be considered whether a man so shows patience outwardly that he does not grieve within, nor think to repay the evil; and likewise whether in the very hour of the injury received he answers words of impatience or of reviling, 432Dor after that hour keeps a heart of envy or of rancor. Again, a man ought to judge whether he keeps obedience for some advantage of his own, or for gain, or purely for God's sake and for the sake of the precept; whether he obeys in adversities, whether promptly, whether devoutly. Again, he ought to heed whether he rebukes modestly, whether he corrects temperately, and whether in keeping discipline he keeps gentleness, and avoids vehemence, anger, bitterness, indiscretion. And whether he is perhaps more inclined to rigor than to compassion, and whether he shows remission where rigor is to be exercised: in these things the mind is often deceived, and what it does carnally and viciously it believes to be a work of virtue. Zeal too is false if we avenge our own injury rather than the divine, and if against those who are ungrateful to us or less dear 433Awe are the more inflamed. Again, the bestowing of alms is less acceptable if a man gives late or grudgingly; but it is stained if it is done with pride or with reviling. Again, a man is deceived if under the occasion of sustaining the body he serves delight, or withdraws from himself the sustenance that is necessary. Again, continence is defrauded if a man is chaste in body and in mind, and yet under the appearance of usefulness or of counsel it is suggested to him that he have familiarity with certain women; for to that to which he is led by a pious intention nature also is prompt and easily acquiesces, and in that business vice secretly joins itself, whereby also by use it brings him to this, that a man does not understand himself, and does rather that which delights than that which is expedient. So it happens that sometimes a man is borne to 433Bthis by a carnal appetite rather than a spiritual one; and from the peril of that temptation each man will be so far free as he shall have been able, with a free and unsaddened mind, to withdraw from this familiarity. Vigils and prayers are useless to thee if thou so practice them that thou sleepest and growest torpid at that time at which thou oughtest to pray and to watch; if thou holdest a certain singularity in them, through which thou omittest the common things, and those to which thou art the more bound: to admonish thy neighbor, to console him who grieves, and the other works of charity which please God. And yet it happens that they are not always done purely in God: for sometimes a man is prompt to these things because there is a laboring under sloth, and he is affected with weariness, and it is delightful to him when he is entangled in outward things, or he pleases the persons to whom he speaks, or he is pleased with himself in these things, and glories in such 433Cfavor. Because upon those who lead even a still life torpor or error sometimes steals, so that either through torpor they become useless, or through too much examination of spiritual things they fall into error.

And likewise in this life a fault is committed, if for the sake of stillness the outward care of one's neighbor is utterly abandoned. For to examine all these works of the virtues subtly, and to reconsider whether they are truly good, is to grind all the pigments into powder. And when the man who is a perfumer mixes this powder with myrrh and frankincense, that is, with mortification and with devotion, he composes a precious spice, which, when it has been burned with the fire of charity in the censer of the heart, will give forth from itself upward a smoke of sweet odor. But this smoke ought to rise like a little rod, which is straight and grows on high; 433Dso directly and not crookedly ought grace to stretch upward, so that it seeks nothing from the side, nothing carnal or earthly. The more it seeks anything earthly, or is delighted in anything, the less does this smoke rise, because it is drawn crookedly and from the side; whence it is deservedly compared to a little rod, that the swiftness of ascending may be signified: for those rods which thicken as they grow are not drawn too high, but those rods which grow more swiftly and upward are slenderer and smaller. This smoke, therefore, of mortification, of devotion and of discretion ought to rise swiftly after the manner of a little rod, that we may not be slothful in doing good things and in the zeal of advancing, but eager, so that we may not thicken through slowness and idleness, but may grow slender and lofty. And through the fervor of the mind 434Alet us stretch upward in haste; for in haste must the ascent be made, and manfully must we press on, because if a man tries slackly to ascend upward, he is pressed down by the weight of the body and of human weakness. For the body that is corrupted weighs down the soul, and unless she advances, she must needs fail, because nature draws downward, and always seeks the lowest things. For we see in heavy men that if they wish to climb a tree and to creep upward, whenever they go about the climbing more slackly, they are at once weighed down and fail; but swiftness of climbing and persistence overcomes the heaviness, and carries them through. In this manner those who eagerly and carefully stretch toward what is perfect, and fulfill the commandments, attain the summit of perfection; but the slack fail, and daily become more inclined to a fall. The bride, then, is compared to a little rod 434Bbecause of the purity of her intention and the swiftness of her advancing; but because of all the foregoing it is deservedly said of her: Who is she, that is, how much to be marveled at, how worthy of praise, etc.

Behold the little bed of Solomon: threescore valiant men go about it, of the most valiant of Israel (Cant. III). Solomon is interpreted the peaceable one. And he signifies Christ, who made peace with the things that are in heaven and on earth, who reconciled sinners to the Father, and reformed concord between angels and men, and joined converted sinners to the just. And those whom he here joins in concord, he also joins to himself in the kingdom 434Cin perpetual charity and peace, and leads them to perpetual rest. Which rest is called a little bed, because in it there is a pausing from all the unquiet and labor of this life; in that rest they pause who here have labored for God: For there, as is read in Job, they that were wearied in strength rest, and they that were once bound, without any trouble (Job III) [Vulg. has the perfect requieverunt, "have rested," and pariter sine molestia, "alike without trouble"]. There the eternal rest refreshes and rewards those whom here the labor of the commandments and the advance of the virtues wearied; and those who here were bound with the bonds of human infirmity, there, the bonds being burst, sacrifice to God the victim of praise. These bonds are hunger, thirst, sleep, weariness, and the rest of this kind; all of which will cease there, because they shall not hunger, neither shall they thirst any more, nor will there be labor there, nor sorrow, nor shall this material sun fall upon them to burn them, 434Dnor yet the heat of temptation: for then already the Spirit says to them that they may rest from their labors and from their temptations. The Spirit, who strengthened them to obey the commandments, then says that they may rest from labor. For those who have entered into that rest have rested from their works and from their labors, as God also from his own, wherein he labored for man and redeemed him. From these labors he rested in himself; for these labors his members rest in him. None ever labored as he did, because there was no sorrow like his sorrow. And according to the multitude of his sorrows the eternal consolations have gladdened his members, because his great sorrows conferred great joys upon his members, his great labor perpetual rest, and his bitter death the sweetness of everlasting life. For these things 435Athey love him incomparably, and rejoice in his love: for they have him whom they love, they know him and see him, all of which is eternal life. For it is the same thing to rest with him, and to rejoice with him, and to have him; likewise to love is to know, because love is knowledge, and to know is to see. And this is eternal life, to know the Father, the true God, and Jesus Christ whom he sent: this is that beatitude, and these are the dowries of the soul, the knowledge of God, love, and enjoyment. Who could suffice to think upon that mutual love of the Savior and of the saved, and how he loves those whom he redeemed at so precious a price, how he rejoices together with them at their salvation, how they themselves love him, and rest in his love, and rejoice in him through whom they know and always see that they have been redeemed and carried over to rest? And although 435Bthey love him with an eternal charity for their redemption, they are loved by him incomparably more. So greatly did he love his own in the passion, and so great was the fervor of charity in him for redeeming them, that he could have taken away the bitterness of his passion altogether, but he would not, and rather took upon himself a more bitter pain of martyrdom, and would suffer more than no man ever suffered or could suffer, that he might show forth an incomparable charity. Which charity toward their salvation was so great that, when he had redeemed them at the price of his own death, he calls them to mind not so much as redeemed by himself as given to him by the Father, saying in a certain place: Father, those whom thou hast given me, I will that where I am, there also they be with me (Joan. XVII) [Vulg. illi sint mecum, "they may be with me"]. So greatly does he exult over their redemption that he would not reckon great that which he bore for them, 435Cbut he seems to have those whom he received as given to him rather in the way of a gift than as bought at a price or by recompense. He, therefore, who so loved them in exile, will love them incomparably also in the kingdom; he had also a greater charity toward these than toward his own body, in dying for them; and there also he will have a greater charity toward them than they can have toward him, and he will rejoice more over their salvation than they themselves can rejoice in it. And so he will rejoice over their salvation, and he himself will be their joy; him they will taste, him they will have in memory, him in desire; in these three the soul consists, and these three the Son of God will perfectly fill, who also is the Wisdom of God. For these are the streets of Jerusalem, that is, the broad ways 435Dof the citizens of Jerusalem, who see the peace of God; these streets are reason, memory, will; and they are broad, because many things flow into these streets, and enter in and go out. For how many things does reason comprehend, how many memory, how many the will? But these streets shall be paved, that is, made level, that is, perfectly filled with pure gold, that is, with divine wisdom and with the enjoyment of God. For God will occupy each of them, will gladden, beatify and perfectly satisfy them. For whatever reason will be able to taste, whatever memory to recall, whatever the will to desire, God will be, and he will fill each of these, because he will be all things in all; and there will be sung to him a canticle of gladness for the happiness of eternal beatitude. There, while the just without end behold the torments of the damned, they grow in the praises of God; and because they discern both in themselves 436Athe good with which they have been rewarded, and in those others the punishment which they have escaped, there will be thanksgiving and the voice of praise. They will give thanks to God their deliverer, and will love him with perpetual charity, in whom also they will unceasingly look upon the signs of their deliverance, namely the scars of his wounds. And the more they shall remember the perils and the misery which they escaped, the more, exulting, will they say: Our soul hath passed through the torrent; perhaps our soul had passed through the water intolerable. But, praising God, they will add: Blessed be the Lord, who hath not given us to be a prey to their teeth, namely the demons', from whose snare, the snare of hunters, their souls have been snatched away; and the snare is broken, because the temptation has ceased; and they themselves are set free, but the enemies are bound fast with the chains of eternal damnation. 436BWhom also they will always see in hell, so that, their torments being beheld, they may always rejoice, and love their deliverer, and give thanks to him: whence the Lord speaks to Job, that the elect receive the devil as an everlasting reward (Job XL); and because here he is occupied with them while by tempting he afflicts them, and there while they shall rejoice at the sight of his punishment which they escaped, for all these things there will be thanksgiving, and there will be the voice of praise, because him whom they will love they will praise perpetually. For Jerusalem will praise, that is, the vision of peace, that is, all who see that peace will praise the Lord, who is their peace and exultation and eternal beatitude; and in his own peace and concord, and in charity, he so unites and joins his own in the kingdom, that whatever of happiness and of joy one of them shall have, this becomes also, through charity, 436Canother's, while this one wishes for that one what he himself has, and that one loves this one's good in him as his own in himself. As many, then, as are the elect who will reign with Christ, so many will the rewards be there, and of so many will be the joys of each one who shall be saved. If any man could reckon the number of the citizens above, he would also be able to reckon the joys of each one, because so many are the joys of the elect.

It must now be seen how poured out they are, and how long-lasting. Let us compare the joy of this life with the joy of our homeland. If we double it, if we treble it, however much number can be multiplied by number, we shall not reach the equality of the joy of the blessed; and because here there is a little fire, there we sing [canimus; read caminus, "a furnace"], as the authority says: The Lord liveth, whose fire is in Sion and his furnace 436Din Jerusalem [Vulg. dicit Dominus, "saith the Lord"]. But neither can we reach its term, because it is infinite, in immensity as in eternity, so far as concerns the comprehension of the present life; so that by no comparison, by no reckoning can we attain to the greatness of this joy or to its long duration. It has been said how manifold this joy is, how great, how lasting; it must now be seen what it is, or in what it consists. Whence it must be known that it is in God and is God: for neither could it be called true and perfect if it were not God, or if it were outside God. And because nothing is true, nothing perfect outside God, nor could anything besides God suffice for the creature made to the likeness of God, or perfectly fill her, this is that full joy which in the Gospel the Lord admonishes us to ask and to seek 437A(Joan. XVI), and which he declares that those who ask shall receive. And this is that which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man, which God hath prepared for his own; the small and the great are there, and the servant and the free man from his master [Vulg. Job 3:19, servus liber a domino suo, "the servant free from his master"]. Those who here served for God's sake have passed from labor to rest, from servitude to liberty, now free from the fear of any punishment or separation, and they possess the fear of reverence and of love. For they enjoy the liberty of the sons of God, with which liberty the Son of God set them free, that they might be truly free. Christ served that servants might be given over to liberty; he took the form of a servant that those might be reformed who had been deformed through sin, and deprived of the likeness of God. He took flesh from us, he gave us his Spirit, and thus, while he took upon himself the servitude of our infirmity 437Band conferred the liberty of his own Spirit, he restored us to liberty: for where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty; in this Spirit we call and receive his Father as our Father also; in the soul, then, he has reformed us to his own likeness, in the body he will reform us to the brightness of his own body. This is the liberty of the elect, this their joy; of this liberty they glory, of this glory they rejoice, namely that they enjoy the glory of the sons of God, that they are the sons of God, and therefore heirs, and that they have God as Father and Christ as brother; that they are heirs of God and coheirs of Christ, and that they possess the inheritance of the heavenly Father together with Christ their brother, in which they have him, the firstborn, as partner and fellow. He is also 437Cthe firstborn among many brethren; these Christ has as brethren and coheirs in his own liberty and glory, these he has with him as companions at table. For they shall eat and drink at his table in his kingdom; and the rest of this table, as is read in Job, is full of fatness (Job LVI). The rest of this table is the refreshment of that glory which is full of fatness, because it perfectly satisfies, as the Prophet says: I shall be satisfied when thy glory shall be made manifest (Psal. XVI) [Vulg. apparuerit, "shall appear"]. With that glory we shall be satisfied, and at the same time we shall desire it, and desire will have no failing, nor satiety any loathing, because satiety will accompany desire, and desire satiety: for its immensity will supply the satiety, and the taste of its sweetness the desire. Always, then, will it satisfy, and always will it delight: this is that refreshment, this is 437Dthe rest of that table, full of fatness. For we shall be filled with the fat of the wheat that fell into the earth, that is, with the divinity of our Savior, who took upon himself the failing of our mortality, that he might refresh us with his divinity. Of the torrent, that is, of his transitory and troubled passion, he drank in the way of this world, that he might give us to drink of the torrent of his pleasure in our homeland. He drank the cup of the passion, and prepared for us the fountain of the water of eternal life: these are the delights, that refreshment, that abundance of Jerusalem, that rest and the fatness of that table. That is the torrent of pleasure with which the elect are made drunk, so that they forget, and are without share in all misery, and rejoice without end: this is the beatitude, the rest and the little bed of our peaceable one, where he feeds his own with these delights, and where he lies down at midday. Here the bride has a little bed with 438Athe Bridegroom in the night, that is, in the blindness of this life; but there at midday, that is, in full charity and knowledge. Here she knows only in part, there she will know as it is and perfectly; there she sleeps and rests in peace without any disturbance, and in the selfsame, that is, in his peace, she is still, who is peace and joy which is the selfsame. And because he is always the same, and is in the same manner, and is never changed, nor is brought to an end, because he has neither change nor shadow of alteration, that fullness and those delights the devout and the valiant, who manfully sweat in the fulfilling of the commandments, circumscribe by thinking and go about by considering. These are designated by the number sixty, which is completed out of ten and six; for by ten the Decalogue, that is, the commandments, is signified; by six the labor which is expended in 438Bfulfilling those same commandments. These valiant men, then, go about Solomon's little bed with desire; they do not climb into it, or sleep in it: for they can only think something concerning that rest and search it out, but not comprehend it perfectly and as it is. However much they circumscribe of it by thinking, or conjecture concerning its equality and happiness, this is to go around, not to enter into perfect knowledge. Whence, because what they can know of that rest is very little, it is expressed by a diminutive, and it is called not so much a bed as a little bed. They are not able in like manner to go about this bed who still groan for past sins, and who have need to wash with the tears of penitence the bed of sadness and of a sick conscience: for these 438Chave not a still bed but a troubled one, while conscience troubles them within, and the sad memory of their sins; nor can they so much go about and desire the rewards above as still fear the torments. But when through true penitence they have been cleansed from the filth of their sins, and after a long struggle set free from the passions of the vices, and strengthened through grace, and have passed over from fear and hope to perfect charity, then with enlightened eyes they are able to ascend and to contemplate the things above. Accordingly the valiant, nay rather those who shall be of the most valiant of Israel, that is, the more devout and spiritual, have it to go about Solomon's bed, and are able to accomplish in work whatever they understand in Scripture. But those who fulfill the commandments sluggishly, and live softly and dissolutely, are not 438Dable to climb to the consideration of this rest, in whom carnal and worldly desires are still strong, namely the appetite of gluttony, the fury of anger, the heat of avarice, the burning of lust, the spite of impatience or of envy. For these are the weaker in God, the less perfectly these things have failed in them. But when these things have been weakened in them by long zeal and labor, and strengthened through spiritual desires, and then, the more they have pressed these down beneath themselves, so much the more are they strong and powerful above, and can go about this little bed. The most valiant of Israel, then, that is, of those who contemplate and seek God with the mind, and whose spiritual desires shall have been the more fervent, go about this little bed. For, kindled with vehement desires, they go round about on every side and seek an entrance, 439Athat they may both taste this rest and in some measure enter into it. This, then, is their going about, and the course of desire around this bed.

All holding swords, and most skilled in wars (Cant. III). The valiant men who go about Solomon's bed now consider the things above and stretch toward them, now below wage war against the adversary of the human race. That they may be able to fight against him, they first take up, according to the Apostle, the armor of God, that is, the virtues; and since they are armed with these and have them all, they take care not to be negligent in any one of them. For they know that if they offend in one, they are made guilty of all, 439Band will have none at all, and so will appear to the enemy not armed but naked. For he who lacks any virtue has the vice contrary to it, and so is outside charity, because virtue and vice cannot exist together. And whoever is outside charity will not be able to have strength against the adversary. Then they fortify themselves with justice, and arm themselves as with a breastplate, covered about with which they remain impenetrable against the darts of the enemy. For he who renders to God and to his neighbor what he owes is fortified on every side, and the enemy finds nothing in him to strike. They have also faith in the things that are not seen, as a shield, which is set first against the enemy, although they attack it first; and the enemy strike and assail this the more, the more spiritually they storm them; for while perfect men believe and 439Clove things future and eternal, they judge and despise things earthly and transitory. Whence, when there is temptation concerning those things which they do not love, they easily conquer the tempting adversary; for in vain is the net cast before the eyes of them that have wings. For they have wings, and are lifted up by two wings, that their manner of life may be in the heavens, and that they may seek those things and rise above earthly ones, namely by meditation and by contemplation. They take up also the hope of salvation as a helmet; for in this they rejoice so much that they not only bear labors willingly, but are delighted in them, and reckon themselves blessed through them, as it is written: For thou shalt eat the labors of thy hands (Psal. CXXVII), thou art blessed. For truly blessed is he who both believes and loves things to come, and expends works for which he may look 439Dand hope for them, and is delighted and rejoices in the labors which he performs for their sake. Fortified with these arms, the soldiers of Christ can fight securely and manfully. For while, enlightened through grace, they believe things to come, and perform works for which they may hope for them, they have faith and hope; they have also the virtues and justice. Thus armed, they take up the word of God as a sword, with which both to protect themselves and to strike the enemy: for the word of God is living and effectual, and like a penetrating sword, discerning the thoughts of the evil one. The valiant men of our Solomon, then, all hold swords, because they embrace Holy Scripture and retain it in memory, and cleave to it with the mind, in which they have divers instructions whereby they may know and overcome the ambushes of the crafty enemy. For the reading of Scripture and meditation, 440Aand the devout chanting of psalmody, strengthen the mind, render the enemy weak, and empty out his strength. And so, while they hold it in memory and fulfill it in work, and through it become most skilled for contending with the enemy, because through the understanding of Scripture they are instructed, and through working they are enlightened, as the Psalmist says: In the understandings of his hands, that is, through working, he brought them back (Psal. LXXVII) [Vulg. in intellectu manuum suarum deduxit eos, "in the understanding of his hands he led them"]. Their first caution is this, that, being about to fight with the enemy, they take up this humility, and do not trust that they can contend by their own strength, but, reckoning themselves weak, commit themselves wholly to the divine protection. For they become strong in this conflict only so far as, for contending with the enemy, they trust not in themselves but in God. For with the enemy of the human race no man 440Bcould contend on equal terms, their strengths being compared the one with the other; whose fortitude is so great that no human strength can be compared to him, because of the many arts of harming which he has, which no man suffices to know.

With divine strength, therefore, must we engage with these, which strength the knowledge of one's own infirmity and humility properly deserves; and humility alone, as is read in the Lives of the Fathers, can escape these snares. So Jonathan, hemmed in by a multitude of enemies, when he knew that he could not resist, fled to divine help and came forth victor (I Reg. XIV). So Josaphat, set in a like peril, when he professed himself weak before himself, turned himself wholly to the calling upon God, and prevailed against his enemies (II Par. XVII). Each of these triumphed more by humility and prayer than by strength; but with humility 440Cand prayer the Lord's passion is to be remembered and to be sounded forth with faith. In it the soldiers of Christ receive strength against the enemy; for there the fortitude of God was made weak, that we might be strengthened. There the enemy came forth strong, that he might be made weak; there he prevailed, that he might be cast down. So much, then, are the members of Christ strong in this battle, as they have been able to place their faith in it. In this firmness of faith, on this stone of help, Moses stood, when, his people fighting with the Amalekites, he prayed to the Lord (Exod. XVII). And though his hands were heavy before, so great a fortitude thereafter came forth in them that they were not slackened until the enemies were overcome. But his hands in praying were held up by Aaron, who is interpreted the mountain of fortitude, 440Dand by Hur, who is called fire: for prayer must be pressed manfully and with fervor, which fervor is understood by this fire. Prayer lifted up by these two, namely by constancy and by devotion, will triumph over the enemy, and will obtain what it asks. Sometimes these soldiers of our peaceable one fight thus with Moses, the throng of good thoughts engaging with the throng of evil or vain ones; sometimes, consolation being withdrawn and they being as it were forsaken, they receive and recover help with Jonathan by praying, and conquer the enemy. For he, forsaken by his companions, with his garments rent, put earth upon his head and prayed; he received back his companions, he slew the enemy. So the soldiers of Christ, in the anguish of temptation, when good thoughts withdraw and are troubled, rend their garments and put earth 441Aupon their head, while they reckon the virtues in themselves rent and imperfect. And because they are earth and ashes, they turn this over rectractant in mind, and by praying and by humbling themselves they recover their spiritual thoughts, those they had before, and overcome the enemy. Of Judas Maccabeus too we read that, having once engaged with the enemy, he was of such constancy and confidence that he crossed over to them before he would permit them to cross over to him (I Machab. III). Which, as in him, so in the servants of Christ is a sign of victory: for his enemies held this for a sign, that if Judas should first cross the torrent that lay midway between them, he would come forth victor, and they would not be able to resist him: which was done, and he came forth victor. So it prefigures that the soldiers of Christ will be victors, if, undaunted at obstacles, they are prepared to bear persecutors or adversities 441Band constantly pass through them. This Judas, when war pressed on, was strenuous; but in time of peace provident: in war he acted manfully, and when it ceased, or rather was interrupted, he did not grow torpid in idleness, but made arrangement concerning the things to be done; the polluted places (opportunity being taken) he himself cleansed, and renewed the holy things, and rebuilt what had been destroyed. So the soldiers of Christ are taught now to fight bravely with the enemy, and now to cleanse the polluted places of their own mind (which is the house of God), and to build up the virtues, and to renew holy pursuits and pious works. These swords (namely these instructions and examples of Scripture) they hold, and through them they become most skilled for spiritual wars: And every man's blade upon his thigh, because of fears in the night (Cant. III). In the thigh carnal propagation is noted, 441Csince by the thigh can be understood carnal motions and the wills of the heart. For from each of these a great propagation is drawn; because as from the flesh divers thoughts are generated, so from the heart many wills proceed.

As much as anyone follows these delights or these wills, so much is he blinded in mind, because the things that are sweet to the flesh are hurtful to the spirit, and the things that give carnal delight make the soul bitter. Earthly delight is that sour grape, and whoever eats it, his teeth are set on edge (that is, spiritual understanding is blunted), and according to Jeremiah his teeth are broken to the number; because according to the number of carnal delights the knowledge of spiritual things is broken and scattered. And as much as a man delights in these things, so much is he blinded 441Dwithin, and the night of blindness is begotten in the mind. Which night is the more to be feared, in that even without knowing it we sin in many things, and take delight; for human nature is prone to evil, and offends in many things which it does not know; because, as is read in Job, we dwell in houses of clay, and have an earthly foundation, and are consumed as by a moth, which secretly and without sound consumes a garment (Job IV): hence it is that we are the more often dipped in the filth of sins and are made abominable, that is, such garments of ours, that is, our bodies, make us abominable. Again, we often sin, and take delight in what we too little know, and we sin without knowing it; and these delights and sins the Lord knows, although we ourselves are ignorant of them; and therefore he permits us to be blinded. Again, he knows 442Athe works of individuals, and therefore he brings on night, as is read in Job, that is, he permits blindness to come to pass (Job XXXIV) [Vulg. Job 34:25 Novit enim opera eorum, et idcirco inducet noctem, "For he knoweth their works, and therefore he shall bring night"]. For by sin we are blinded, and being blinded we sin the more, because we do not see in how many things we offend: whence these nights are to be feared, and against these fears of the night the sword of the word of God is to be held upon the thigh of delights and pleasures, not to be laid aside or set far off, so that through it sins may be known and cut away: for the word of God illumines, and gives understanding of them. Which things, if men guard against them too little, will also be the less known. The mind being little by little blinded, they are strengthened even by habit against a man, so that he cannot easily avoid them. There is also another step, effectual and necessary for knowing and repressing these delights, 442Bnamely the sword of the love of God, and that the soul be wounded with charity for him who was wounded through them, and grieve together with him who bore sorrows for her: for he himself was wounded for our offences, and himself bore our sorrows. For these things, O man, let the sword of love wound thee, and let the sword of sorrow pass through thy soul. This sword is twice sharpened: it wounds with love, and thus opens the understanding and illumines the mind. For love begets knowledge and cuts away sins, that thou mayest beware of offending him whom thou lovest. And so upon the thigh of delights, or of carnal pleasures, the soldiers of Christ have the sword of love because of the fears of the night, that is, because of hidden lapses into sin; because if they do not love, then by reason of blindness and ignorance they offend in many things. And again, 442Cwhile they are fervent with love, they turn aside the peril of lukewarmness; because, as love illumines, so lukewarmness blinds. For in a slack mind earthly delights grow, and self-wills grow into a wood; because, according to Solomon, briars and thorns fill the field of the slothful man (Prov. XXIV) [Vulg. Prov. 24:31 urticae, "nettles"], which, as much as it has borne fruit, so much do they beget a shady grove of these thickets and darken the mind, so that the slack man understands the less in how many things he offends, attends the less to himself, takes the less hold of himself. This night is to be feared, in which a man daily becomes worse, and yet more secure about himself. But those who have had the sword of divine love will shake off this fear, and this fear of thorns and briars will not come upon them; and for the having of it 442Dthe memory of God's benefits avails most, that thou mayest call to mind and think over again that he has made thee and remade thee, that he has done well to thee. Think upon his goodness, his bounty and his liberality: how good he is in himself, how bountiful toward thee, spending himself for thee, how liberal to thee, heaping his gifts upon thee. Thinking on these things thou wilt love him whom thou shalt consider to be such toward thee. And this sword of love will cut off the evils that sprout up, and will render thee secure from this fear of the night.

King Solomon made himself a ferculum of the wood of Lebanon (Cant. III). The ferculum is the holy soul, who feeds and refreshes. For she refreshes Christ, and refreshes his members 443Aalso. She refreshes Christ, while he takes delight in her good works and zeal and desires, as it is written: My people has sated me with voices, has filled me with sweet odors. For she refreshes his members by example, while by her holy life and manners each is edified and amended. She refreshes by prayer, while she obtains for them from God the grace by which they are consoled and edified. She feeds unto salvation by teaching, while she strengthens them by preaching, and instructs them to savor things eternal and wholesome. She feeds by counsel, while she exhorts to good, and by sweet admonition raises up and restores the sorrowful, and kindles and strengthens the good yet more; she feeds by converse, while she converses of what is good, and, so far as she prevails, takes away occasion for useless speech. She brings forward words of edification into the midst, and furnishes charity 443Bwith matter for good discourse and gives her labor to peace; she lends no ear to a detracting tongue, but scatters it with a sad countenance. Thus the holy soul refreshes both Christ and his members. Whence Christ is said to have made this ferculum for himself; and the holy soul is also called a ferculum, a ferculum from bearing, because she is borne from place to place, wherever the will of him who governs shall have directed her, namely of God who disposes all things, that she may refresh many and instruct them unto salvation. This ferculum Christ made of the wood of Lebanon. These are the cedars which grow on Mount Lebanon, and they signify the elect, who grow and bear fruit through Christ and in Christ. For Lebanon, which is called whitening, signifies Christ, who came forth of a clean virgin without any stain 443Cof sin. These woods are fair, tall, incorruptible, sweet-smelling, unharmed by worms, and they signify the saints, who are fair through holy manner of life and through honourable morals; tall, because they stretch upward by desire, and seek the things above; incorruptible, because their charity and holiness so begins here that it is not ended unto eternity, but is perfected in the world to come; sweet-smelling, because they send forth from themselves the odor of good repute, and by holy esteem draw others to good; unharmed by worms they are, because they do not suffer the worms, that is, the demons, to feed upon their inward parts, nor, they themselves being unaware, do they suffer strangers to eat up the strength of their mind, because, taught by many trials, they know their hidden suggestions; of these woods Christ made a ferculum, that is, a soul filled with all the fulness of grace, 443Dso much so that she is abundant in herself, and is able to refresh others and to profit them; he makes, I say, such a soul of the wood of Lebanon, that is, of the example of the saints, when in their life and manner of living he shows her a form which she may imitate; when in the same spirit in which he enlightened them he restores her, and leads her through to the step of perfection; when he builds in her the virtues with which they were adorned; when at last, according to their form and likeness, he shapes and composes her.

The pillars of this soul are the four principal virtues, namely prudence, fortitude, temperance, justice: well is that soul supported which is propped by these, so that she be prudent to know the things that pertain to salvation; strong to accomplish what she has known; temperate, that she may beware of evils, and may do good things 444Adiscreetly, in place and in time. And when she has been such, she will be just, and will hold justice in the fourth place. These pillars are of silver, because they make the soul that is sustained by these virtues splendid both within before God and without before men, and set forth from her a fair appearance. He made the reclining-place of gold. The reclining-place is a pure conscience, in which Christ, the wisdom of God, reclines himself and rests; which is golden, because it is baked out by the fire of tribulation, and purged as gold and proved. For she who is pleasing through innocence of life is made more pleasing and cleaner through the bearing of adversities, and worthy to be God's golden reclining-place. The Jews put wood into his bread, who is the bread of angels and of men; they set wood for him to be racked upon, they did not put wood under him 444Bto recline upon. This bread was baked out by the passion, and made firm. Suffer with him, holy soul, so that thou mayest be purged and made firm by the fire of tribulation; be not consumed as lead, but be made cleaner as gold. If, scorched by tribulation, thou shalt not have failed, but shalt have profited through patience, thou shalt be gold and God's reclining-place. And he will recline in thee, who had no reclining-place on the cross, and will make a golden one in thee, who himself had none of wood. For this cause he endured the passion, and had no reclining-place: that by his example and love we may suffer, and that through the bearing of adversities we may be so cleansed that he himself may recline and rest in us in this world, and we may rest with him in the world to come. Think upon this charity of his, soul, and bend thyself wholly to his love and good pleasure, that thou mayest spend 444Cthyself wholly upon him, and bear steadfastly and with a devout mind whatever things shall have been brought upon thee for his sake, that thou mayest in some measure answer to his benefits and become his reclining-place. Therefore, that thou mayest be a golden reclining-place, study to have also the gold of spiritual wisdom; let not thy wisdom be muddy, but golden; not earthly, sensual, devilish, but spiritual and divine. Of this spiritual wisdom the deep of human wisdom says: It is not in me; and the sea, that is, the bitterness of vices, says: It is not with me. This carnal wisdom therefore is to be cast away, and to be exchanged for this spiritual one; and so gold is to be bought, clean, fire-tried, proved, that we may be made rich, and may possess this gold. After spiritual wisdom and the amendment 444Dof morals, one must come to this virtue of patience, that we may willingly, nay cheerfully, bear whatever adversities, and rejoice in them for Christ's sake. Thus by degrees and little by little Christ advances and cleanses the soul, as much by his own grace as by the example of his gifts, that she may become gold, nay his own golden reclining-place. He makes in her also a purple ascent. He makes an ascent in the soul, when by his grace he makes her desire the things above. But this ascent is purple and rebeus: for such a soul suffers at times revilings and detractions from the wicked, who envy her devotion, for the reason that they themselves neither love the good nor will to do it. And when she hears the revilings of the wicked, she receives from them a certain disturbance of mind and a redness of confusion. Now purple is so red, 445Athat yet that redness appears scattered and varied: so in the holy and devout soul that redness is varied; because whence she reddens from the hurling of revilings, thence she reddens with charity, wherewith she also burns toward those who revile. Again she reddens from the desire wherewith she is kindled toward things above and eternal: these rednesses are various, and all precious, so that they deservedly adorn the devout soul, and ought to be compared to purple. The middle parts of this soul are paved with charity. These middle parts are works of the class of good things, namely common works, which can be done with both a good and a bad mind, such as are watchings, fastings, prayers and almsgivings, and the rest. These ought to be paved with charity, namely that they be done in charity and with a good intention. And again, that they be so done with brotherly charity that the weak be not 445Bscandalized or weakened in them, but that these be level (that is, made with such evenness and discretion) that the soul may walk in all of them without complaint, and may know how to practise them opportunely and again to leave them off: well will these middle parts be paved with charity, if they shall have been so ordered. And so Solomon now makes himself a ferculum of the wood of Lebanon, and pillars of silver, and a reclining-place of gold, a purple ascent, and paves the middle parts with charity, when he enriches the soul with the fulness of grace and with spiritual banquets, and shapes her from the examples and teaching of the perfect, that she may be able to edify others. When he adorns her with the beauty of virtues and strengthens her with perfection, and when he makes her so clean that he may rest in her and have a reclining-place, and so lofty and precious that through desire of the things above 445Cand charity toward her neighbours and the bearing of evils she may be compared to purple, and so discreet and companionable in her outward manner of life that she may please the divine gaze, and not offend the sight of her neighbours.

Go forth, and see, daughters of Sion, king Solomon in the diadem wherewith his mother crowned him, in the day of solemnity and of gladness (Cant. III) [Vulg. Cant. 3:11 closes desponsationis illius, et laetitiae cordis ejus, "of his espousals, and of the gladness of his heart"]. It is an exhortation to faithful and devout souls, that they consider and contemplate in mind the beauty and glory of Jesus Christ, which he possesses in heaven 445Dthrough the punishment of his martyrdom. These souls are the daughters of Sion, that is, of that city above, who behold God, which is our mother: these have been spiritually born again and regenerated in Christ, to this end, that they may be daughters and heirs of that vision and beatitude: to these it is said that by faith and desire they go forth from earthly things to consider the things above, and to contemplate the diadem of our Solomon, that is, of Christ, who redeemed us and made peace for us. O daughters of Sion, go forth from carnal concupiscence, and from vicious habit, and from blindness of heart, and see, that is, contemplate spiritually, the glory of our king, the felicity of that gladness above, that you may be eager in entering, drawn by that sweetness and delight, so that you may so walk as to go forth from your own selves. For some walk, 446Abut do not go forth; because now they go forward, now they go backward, now they walk slackly, now crookedly. For sometimes some press on in good works, and also commit evils. For through a certain sloth and blindness of mind they beware of evils too little, while they are zealous to do well, not attending to the fact that good things mingled with evils do not please God. Again, some are too little strong for anything laborious, and from faintheartedness of spirit as well as of body they endure a burden; others think nothing harder to bear than that they can resist their own pleasures, and they take delight in temptations or in concupiscences, resisting their own passions and motions too little; who, as much as they suffer themselves to be overcome in the least things, so much do they become weak against sins and vices or temptations, and insufficient for walking 446Band for going forward. Others go forward the less, because they do not walk rightly and discreetly. In certain good works only, and those less useful, they exercise themselves the more, and in others more fitting for their own advancement they neglect themselves; they press on in labors of the body, and neglect the virtues of the soul and godliness, whereas bodily exercise avails to little, and godliness is more necessary, because it avails to all things. Again, because they have not keeping of the heart and circumspection, through this negligence they offend in many things. And again, others are very solicitous about certain small and light matters, and the greater ones they neither beware of nor know, who, swallowing a camel, strain out a gnat. But all these, although they walk, yet remain within themselves; because they do not leave their former manners and their ingrained 446Cimperfection and torpor, so as to go forth, with all things amended and the eyes of the heart cleansed, to see God, and Solomon crowned with the diadem. First of all, therefore, it is necessary that we so do good that we turn aside from evil; because he does not go forward well who now walks, now falls down. Again, it behooves us to strengthen the weak knees, and to beware of excessive faintheartedness and infirmity; otherwise we shall not go forth from our own selves so as to attain to this vision. Again, we ought to make straight steps for our feet, that we may know the things by which we can most make progress, and may direct thither the steps of the mind; that is, that we press on to correcting ourselves in all things, to cleansing the heart, to increasing charity. If 446Dwe so walk, we shall assuredly go forth from our own selves, and shall be able to see king Solomon, the eyes of the heart being cleansed from former affections and from blindness. For then we shall be able to see him, that is, to contemplate him, through loftiness of mind, shining in the diadem, that is, the aureole, wherewith in this life his mother Judaea crowned him by inflicting martyrdom upon him, through which she fashioned for him such a crown and glory. For because she crowned him with martyrdom in the time of his passion, he himself was crowned with such a diadem in the day of solemnity and of gladness of his glorious Ascension: for indeed a great solemnity it was, when the citizens above ran to meet their king, and the Lord, the Redeemer of men, coming with triumph; a great gladness indeed, both of the Redeemer himself and of those same citizens, for the redeemed: whence 447Ait is said of him that he caused his citizens to be called together, that they might congratulate him and rejoice together with him over the man found and redeemed, whom he had lost: this is the day of solemnity and of gladness, or of the espousals and of the gladness of his heart. For then he espoused to himself the bride alone, namely the Church of the angels above; then he entered upon those nuptials, and joined himself to her, from which he will return to those nuptials of men at the end of the world, when, namely, he will join this bride to that bride: In the day of his espousals, he says, and of the gladness of his heart. How great a gladness of heart the Son of God received in that espousal, that is, the joy of his humanity, namely according as he is man, as much as pertains to the glory of the Redeemer, speech does not express, understanding does not grasp. For as many as his redeemed shall be, of so many 447Bwill his gladness be. Ex As much as each one will rejoice over his own salvation, so much and a greater joy will he have over each one of them. O daughters of Sion, consider this glory and gladness of our king, set this example before you! When you suffer adversities, go forth from your imperfection and impatience, that you may lightly bear the evils brought upon you; see your king, who suffered for you, and through his passion was crowned with glory and honor. And when you suffer anything for godliness' sake, think over again what manner of persecution and contradiction he endured from the ungodly for you. For if God suffered for man, how much more ought man to suffer for himself? Scanty and brief is that which you can suffer, immense that which you await through it. The momentary and light of our tribulation works in us also an eternal 447Cweight of glory. Think upon the eternal, and you bear the momentary lightly; think upon the weight, that is, the greatness of the glory, and light becomes the tribulation which such a recompense accompanies; while you suffer, gaze upon the crown: for then there is made for you the diadem wherewith you may be crowned in the day of solemnity, which will be concerning you when you go forth out of the body, or of that espousal, when from the nuptials of the Church militant you shall pass over to the nuptials of the Church triumphant. Therefore, O daughters of Sion, prudent virgins, trim your lamps, prepare for yourselves the oil of good works and the light of charity, and so go out to meet the Bridegroom, and the bride! Then you shall be a crown of glory in the hand of the Lord, and a diadem of the kingdom in the hand of your God.

• 447D

Behold thou art fair, my love, behold thou art fair (Cant. IV) [Vulg. Cant. 4:1 Quam pulchra es, amica mea, quam pulchra es, "How fair art thou, my love, how fair art thou"; the wording printed here is that of Cant. 1:15, whose second clause also closes with es]. Christ commends in the perfect soul a twofold beauty, namely that she is fair both without through holy manner of life, and within through a simple intention and humility of mind. And so this exterior beauty of the soul is when she lives temperately in all things, when she uses slender food and clothing, when she guards against all things superfluous or blameworthy, and practises all things just and honourable. Again, these things adorn her, when she is composed in work and equally in speech, when she shows herself companionable and lovable toward all, hurting none, circumventing none, having compassion 448Aon all and succouring all according to her power. And again, when she is prudent, chaste, and mild, and meek, and adorned in all things with the other good qualities, the soul rightly has beauty outwardly when she has honourableness in habit, and gravity in bearing, cheerfulness in countenance, ears that do not itch, eyes not lofty or curious, a tongue instructed, and tempered from light or useless words, and bringing forth things good and wholesome. It also beautifies her when she is not disturbed by anger, or by impatience or rancour, when she does not contend, does not detract, does not judge, nor lends an ear to those who deal in such things, when she converses with all not only without complaint, but even with grace. She is likewise fair, when she is fervent in good work, in God's service, in the occupation of brotherly charity, strenuous, fervent and discreet in all things 448Bto be done. There is another, interior beauty, when in all things that she does praiseworthily she has a simple eye, that is, intention, neither affecting nor caring to be praised by men, but seeking the praise which is from God alone and desiring only the things above. And so, although she be fair without through works, she is more adorned, and pleases within to the divine gaze, through purity of intention and humility, and through that sense of mind whereby she both does great things and always grows cheap in her own sight. Which cheapness of mind is the more precious, the more it proceeds from the fount of love and the root of fervor. For to one who loves and is devout, what he has never suffices, nor does he reckon great what he has done, because whoever always pants with desire after greater things judges himself needy.

448CThere is therefore a humility that is devout, one that is voluntary, one that is constrained. It is constrained when a man, calling back before his eyes his sins, his infirmity and his imperfection, makes his mind, as it were unwilling and holding its own good things rather before its eyes, to fall dumb and to grow cheap in its own sight. In these things, even if it is constrained, yet it is brought to completion, so that the mind attains it in some measure. If, however, through negligence the mastery of constraining should cease, it will at once slip away from it, and will be led back to its former pride without remission. But in some it cannot even be constrained, the mind always stretching upward to high and accustomed things, nor is there anything that can press down and subject the mind through the lowest things of humility. For to the proud humility is high; and if at some time they attempt to climb up to it, they at once slip back. 448DTo which they therefore do not climb up, because they stretch toward it with a weak desire. For they will and will not, as Solomon says of the slothful man: The slothful man willeth and willeth not (Prov. XIII). Humility is voluntary when from the leading of reason a man sees how infirm he is and how much a sinner. And that, according to Job, there is no help for him in himself; and the will consents to this reason, and loves this judgment, and chooses to be despised, because it knows that so to know oneself to be is so to be profited. And so willingly he humbles himself, because, being enlightened through grace, he now loves humility as also the other good things. But this humility is not constrained; because, time being now shaken off and the passions of the vices weakened, the soul comes to this liberty of spirit, that the good delights her and is savoury to her.

449AThere is likewise another, more sublime humility, which is not constrained, not drawn by the leading of reason, nor only voluntary, but fervent and devout: this the perfect soul has, who is the more humble the more devout she has been, and as much as she grows in spirit or in knowledge, so much does she advance in humility. For true grace does not exalt, but humbles; because it shows a man more fully to himself, and, understanding its sublimity, he sees how scanty is that which he has been able to grasp of it. As much as anyone eats of spiritual banquets, so much also does he hunger: which, because they can never be comprehended to the full, never suffice for one who desires: whence they always humble her, because her delights always abound less than they are desired. And so grace tasted humbles such a soul, and equally the examples of the good 449Bconsidered, the consideration of her pilgrimage and of the manifold misery of humanity, the love of the felicity above and the desire of liberty, namely because she will be delivered from the servitude of corruption into the liberty of the glory of the sons of God. Such a soul, purged of earthly delights, knows how to desire only spiritual things, and passes over wholly into the love of them and into the affection of the virtues; the love of Christ humbles her, who was humbled for her; the love of that virtue itself humbles her, which she therefore embraces because Christ especially loved and had it; whence it is also singularly called the virtue of Christ: all humble things please her, because she understands them to be sublime. For she knows that as soon as she is humbled she is exalted within, because she is made like to Christ, who was the least, that is, the most humble, 449Cin the kingdom of heaven, that is, in the present Church, although he was great and the Son of the Most High. The Spirit of Christ, who kindles in her love of him, instructs her also unto his humility, whereby, as much as she is full, so much does she choose to be abject, and however blessed she is, so poor is she in spirit. For neither can she who has the Spirit of Christ not love what Christ loves and has. And so great is the agreement of the love of Christ and of humility, that whoever has had the one of these is proved necessarily to have the other. And as much as he has had the one, so much may he have the other; so that if thou truly lovest, thou art truly humble; and if thou art less humble, thou art convicted of loving less. The perfect soul therefore, because she loves, is humbled, and on account of this humility, which proceeds from the root of love, she is deservedly called beloved and 449Dfair. Whose twofold beauty is commended, namely of exterior work and of interior humility. And deservedly is he praised who both does great things and thinks humbly of himself; who is not high-minded, but consents to lowly things, and in all things bears a humble mind.

Thine eyes are of doves, besides that which lies hid within (Cant. IV). Such a soul has the eyes of doves, because she looks simply upon these earthly things, nor is she snatched toward them by the desire of covetousness, but rather is content with little, does not court what belongs to others, is not carried away by the desire of ambition or of riches, or of any carnal 450Adelight. The inward sufficiency of the mind makes the outward look pleasing, so that concerning earthly things she has the eyes of doves, just as in those covetous of earthly things the appetite makes the eyes of kites. The care of things does not afflict her, love does not vex her, business does not weary her; she enjoys great stillness and security, while she does not seek these things, does not care for them, does not covet them. For as is read in Job: Man is born to labor, but the bird to flying (Job V) [Vulg. Job 5:7 et avis ad volatum, "and the bird to fly"]. Because those who are men, that is, human, carnal, that is, taken up with the desire of worldly things, have labor; but the good, while they do not love or desire these things, escape and fly away from their affliction. For the evil this labor is born of covetousness, which is the root of all evils; but the good are born to this flight 450Band liberty by the renewing and lifting up of the Holy Spirit. These are they who fly as clouds, and as doves to their windows (Isa. LX), because they are lifted up to eternal desires, and are carried by no covetousness to the lowest things. Which flight and dove-like look the Holy Spirit works in the soul, who is designated by the dove. This Spirit makes the outward eyes simple, and opens the inward; because he illumines the sense of a man and advances it to understand and comprehend spiritual things and the things above. The eyes therefore of the devout soul are of doves, because her senses have been illumined through the Holy Spirit, and taught, savouring spiritual things. Seeking those things, intent upon them, treading down and despising earthly things. For they savor according to the spirit those things which are wisdom, which is life and peace: this wisdom is life, because it quickens 450Cthe soul; it is peace, because it makes her tranquil, composes, moderates, feeds, gladdens, advances her, makes her blessed. This wisdom is not singular, but also set apart [sed et segregata; read nec segregata, "nor set apart"], but common; not seeking her own things, but those of others; not crafty, not malevolent, but pure, sweet, lovable, pleasing; not obstinate, but easy to be persuaded; consenting to the good, agreeing with the well-disposed; she lacks the gall of the disturbances and bitternesses which the love of earthly things has in itself. She savors God, while she knows, she is from God, and in God. Whence her eyes, that is, her senses, are called doves', that is, the Holy Spirit, since through him she sees and understands. These doves' eyes, that is, the spiritual senses, this sublimity, this tranquillity of mind is in thee, O soul, besides those things which lie hid 450Dwithin. For those things which thou turnest over secretly with Christ in the chamber of the heart, who could set forth outwardly? Who outwardly could understand or express in words that mutual talking together, the boldness of speaking to him, the consolation received from him or the revelation, the unity of minds, the concord of pleasures [voluptatum; read voluntatum, "of wills"], the mutual love, the zeal for justice and for souls, the desire of the vision and of the enjoyment of God, the weariness of pilgrimage, the longing to be dissolved? Now the sense of such a soul is opened, that she may understand the Scriptures; now she is instructed concerning hidden, or doubtful things, now she is so united to God that she is made one spirit with him; now she is so absorbed by the spirit that she does not recall that she is dwelling in the flesh; now she knows certain secrets of the divine inbreathing which before she did not recognize; but now 451Ashe is so joined to God, and feels God joined to her, and so transfers her whole will into God, that she either understands God's will or bends it to her own. For out of that purity of heart wherewith she agrees with God's will in all things she also understands it, and is worthy to bend it to her own pleasure. Now she so joins God to herself through love and draws him, that she believes she has him as it were alone; now she is so enlarged into him and passes over into him, that in him she embraces every man through charity, and sees all men in the light wherewith she is enlightened, and toward all (because with one and a like charity) she has compassion and condescends. So she directs her intention upon him, that through him she may see and comprehend many as well as few. Such a soul obtains certain things she has asked for on account of the greatness of her faith, certain ones 451Bon account of her profound humility, certain ones through importunity. Sometimes by devotion, and by the fervor of an immense desire, she constrains God; sometimes she bends him by the composition of words, and by coaxing or careful speech; sometimes, a just cause for mercy having been shown, and by reason, she receives consolation concerning some of her petitions, concerning others a revelation, and now a certain one, now a doubtful one, sometimes she understands that she has been heard, but does not know the manner. So Tobias knew that he had been heard, but concerning the manner it was not revealed to him. For he believed this to be the manner, that he should die, whereas rather it was that he should be enlightened. In certain things she hopes that God will be propitious, in that she feels herself forestalled with consolation in praying, and helped. In certain things to be obtained 451Cshe feels that God must be bent, and beaten upon with long-continued prayers. In certain things she learns by experience that cum he seeks and desires a man who may set the hope of prayer against his vengeance. But in some things she recognizes that his wrath cannot be resisted, even if it should happen that Moses and Samuel stand in his sight. These and suchlike familiar and secret things of prayer, of meditation and of knowledge lie hid within in the perfect soul in the present. But what things concerning things to come lie hid, they are hidden from the eyes of all living. For it does not yet appear what shall then be; because, when in that life God shall have appeared, she will be like to him, because she will see him as he is. Then she will be perfectly made like to God, to whom now she is made like in part; because, when that which is perfect shall have come, that which is in part shall be done away, and 451Dthen she shall know even as she has been known. Then she shall see how the Father is in the Son, and the Son in the Father, and the Holy Spirit in both: then at last she shall see the holy Trinity in its own glory.

Thy hair is as flocks of goats, which have come up from mount Galaad (Cant. III). The hair of the bride is holy meditations, which, as hair grows upon the head, so arise in the mind. And this hair is compared to goats on account of certain likenesses. For goats, in searching out pastures, are wont to seek the heights of mountains and of trees, and they also ruminate. So holy 452Ameditations always stretch toward the heights, and labor to search out and to know spiritual and heavenly things. And so far as they prevail to grasp them, they are eager to ruminate, that is, to go over them again and to think them over afresh, and to call them back up from the belly of the mind to the memory, and to grind and break these small for savor and for edification. Those trees are good men, growing in grace and lofty. While therefore the devout soul attends to these hos a tendit and meditates upon their holiness, and strives to raise herself up to their imitation, she climbs these trees by meditation; and while she loves and considers the vigor of their mind, the vigor of their daily advance and of their spiritual renewal, and passes it over alike into memory and into imitation, she plucks from them, as it were, food whereby she may be nourished. For he who attends to those who do well, and is delighted by their virtues, 452Bby their devotion and their manner of life, is himself through them stirred up and nourished to the good and the perfect. These goats climb mountains also, while the meditations of the soul look upon the lofty life and manners of the perfect, and desire to ascend to these, and join themselves to good men, and seek out their fellowship, their consolation, their converse, their prayer. So these goats climb trees or mountains, so they always seek the heights, and despising the lowest things they seek and search out the things above, and are delighted by the sight of these, are refreshed by feeding upon them, are renewed by desire, make progress, and stretch upward by their example. They always make progress, because they always attend to good men; they are always fresh, always eager. For a man becomes of such a manner of life 452Cas those he looks upon, as those he attends to, and as those to whom he joins himself more familiarly. These goats, namely holy meditations, come up from mount Galaad. Mount Galaad signifies Christ: for Galaad is interpreted a heap of testimony, and the saints are heaped together in Christ, and are gathered, and have the testimony of Jesus, and of faith in him and of his works, living stones indeed, and belonging to the heavenly building. Mount Galaad is read to have had most abundant pastures, and Christ feeds most abundantly, who not only refreshes by example, but also pours in grace. For none of the saints builds up by example as Christ does, because in none was there such humility, patience and obedience, meekness, charity, and perfection of all the virtues. In him also was all the fullness of grace, and that to such a degree that out of this 452Dfullness all receive, as many as have grace; this is the mountain of God, a fat mountain, and not only fat in itself, but also making others fat out of itself, nourishing some with the milk of grace, refreshing some through the more abundant sweetness of wisdom more abundant therefore are the pastures on this mountain.

But it must be seen how these goats, namely devout meditations, come up from God. The soul lies down, and is in the depths, when she thinks of earthly and carnal things. But she rises, and ascends on high, when she meditates on spiritual things and turns them over in mind. In carnal thoughts, therefore, we are pressed down and cast down by our very selves; to spiritual things we are lifted up by God, because good meditations are from God and rise in the soul, while carnal and evil ones are from us. For there is not in us, 453Athat is in our flesh, any good, because the flesh is barren, nor does it bring forth thoughts of this kind, but germinates for us thorns and thistles. Out of the heart also come forth evil thoughts, and suggestions are made besides through evil angels. When therefore the soul is pricked with compunction for past sins, or purposes to correct and to keep herself as to present ones; when she is kindled with delight in some virtue or with zeal for making progress, is moved to compassion for her neighbor, to zeal for justice, to the love or the desire of eternal life; when she is affected with some devotion or spiritual sweetness, when she is illumined, instructed, or roused to some good: such meditations and affections are from Christ, who speaks in the soul a thought of peace, and whose Spirit suggests all these things in secret. When 453Btherefore things of this kind are felt in the mind, then assuredly the goats come up from mount Galaad, that is, holy meditations arise and rise up from Christ. For he who abides in Christ, and Christ in him, this man bears much fruit of these thoughts; and in whom these meditations are gathered and heaped together, he has testimony that Christ abides in him, and from him he has the assent of these meditations. From Christ therefore they are, and from him they come up, who nourishes them in our heart, and makes them rise up together and ascend. Who now suggests them of himself, and now is to be prayed to that he may bestow them: for Christ sleeps at times, so that, his Spirit not speaking but a contrary wind blowing, the little ship of the mind is covered with the waves of temptations 453Cor of evil thoughts. Whence he must be roused, that he may command these winds and the sea of these disturbances, and make a calm in the mind. And so, when the soul prays and rouses Christ by the insistence of her prayers, spiritual and longed-for thoughts are received. For they come up from Christ roused, and made favorable through prayer. And thou mayest see in what manner, while the soul is insistent in prayers, one after another rises and comes up; and as many motions of praying as there are, so many meditations rise and come up; and when the soul is insistent and multiplies her prayers, these thoughts are multiplied; and at length they are so thickened in the soul that now she is walled about by an immense host of them, she who before seemed alone, and as it were forsaken. Because therefore these meditations are from Christ, and come up in the mind, let the soul come up into this mountain, 453Dlet her abide in Christ, let her call upon Christ. Let her take up the sublime office of praying. Let her go up into the mountain to pray alone, all occupations, that is, being shut out and put away; let the words of Christ abide in her, let her hear his law with the ear of the heart, and keep his commandments, that whatever she shall have willed to ask may be done for her. For he who hears the law, his prayer shall be acceptable; and he who fulfills the commandments shall be heard, and from the commandments fulfilled in work he shall be instructed, because to him who keeps justice God will give wisdom and the acquaintance with spiritual things. And, as Solomon says (Prov. VI), and according to the Psalmist, from the commandments of God he understands (Psal. CXVIII). So from this fat and abundant mountain, the devout soul praying, these goats come up, that is, holy meditations; but by the malignant spirit useless thoughts are suggested and rise up, 454Adrying up the fatness of devotion, and extinguishing the meditations of good things.

These are that people of the Amalekites. Amalec is interpreted a people licking: for they lick and destroy the sweetness of the ointment, they consume the unction of the Holy Spirit. Against these one must fight by prayer with Moses, and the hands must be lifted up together with the heart, that we may pray, and likewise keep the commandments in work; if we so lift up both to God, and are not wearied, we shall overcome (Exod. XVII). If we cease, or act more slothfully, Amalec shall overcome, as we read was done there. Sometimes we possess holy meditations in stillness, and without the assault of Amalec; sometimes, when he engages with us, and now prevails, now is overcome, prayer profits, and the hands in praying 454Bshall have been lifted up more slackly, so that the soul experiences these vicissitudes, so that now she sees herself the higher, now is affected with spiritual delight, now is occupied and pressed by evil thoughts: yet if she does not cease in praying, nor grow weary, there is no doubt but that Amalec is overcome and put to flight. When through our own negligence and the dissolution of the heart we slip away from good thoughts to vain and hurtful ones, and sometimes when the adversary tempts and suggests, it happens at times that, dried up for a long while and destitute of grace and of spiritual thoughts, she does not experience that sweet sweetness; for which she must pray so much the more humbly and insistently, inasmuch as we are ignorant whether we are in any way the cause of this failure. For a man is deprived of grace on account of some hidden sin, or 454Con account of ingratitude, namely by working unworthily through it, or by not rendering thanks to the giver, or because he does not seek it as he ought, or because he admits carnal thoughts. When therefore this dryness has come about, and the soul has been made as earth without water, the hands must be spread out to God in prayer; and with Elias, who after the dryness of three years asked for rain (III Reg. XVIII), one must sit down to prayer, and ask for the rain of grace. He sent the boy again and again, to prove whether his prayers had been heard, and it was not done before the seventh time; so, when the mind has been dried up for a long while from the grace of devotion, one must pray and press on many times over, nor cease from prayer, until the stillness of the mind, which 454Dis understood through the seven-fold number, and the grace which is sevenfold, may work. For without great insistence and laborious prayer, a mind dried up from grace does not deserve to receive it. But she is not able to obtain that rest by devout prayer, since she is destitute of devotion and of those sweet affections; but it is necessary that she make recompense by labor and importunity. And so, if not for friendship's sake, yet for importunity's sake she shall receive what she asks. But that her prayers may be heard, it is necessary that she cut off and circumcise what is superfluous of speech, of thought, and also of work, lest she be dissolute in thought, speaking vain, superfluous, or hurtful things. Nor let her be without keeping of the heart, admitting indifferently whatever thoughts, and neither discerning concerning them nor being wary for herself; nor let her even be soft 455Aand dissolute in work, handling and doing not what is expedient, but what delights. For that mount Carmel, upon which Elias poured forth this prayer and received what he asked, notes this keeping and that circumcision. For Carmel is interpreted the knowledge of circumcision. Those who have not known how to circumcise and cut off these things in themselves are not worthy to be heard. They are indeed the mountains of Gelboe, upon which neither dew nor rain of grace descends, because upon it was cast away the shield of the mighty, that is, manly keeping and circumcision. For without keeping neither is any virtue granted, nor is fuller grace acquired. So therefore let the circumspect soul see, and cut off what is superfluous and hurtful; let her press on with prayers again and again, and not cease when at first the little cloud of grace comes up, until at length there break forth and follow 455Bthe immensity of the saving rain, and it fully water and pour into the mind which had long been parched with hurtful dryness and with the failure of grace. Hence therefore let her ask for grace and await it, hence let her prepare herself for it, and consider with what caution she may return to holy meditations: which will come about best in this way, that she run back first of all to those most lately had. For these are received the more easily, the more nearly they have been had; but to the more remote, and to those had further back, the running back is more difficult. In this manner the end of prayer is better than the beginning. So from Christ, who is the beginning and the end, and through Christ, the diligent and solicitous soul will obtain all things, and will make in herself the assent of good meditations.

• 455C

Thy teeth are as flocks of the shorn, which have come up from the washing (Cant. IV). The teeth are the examinations of discretion, by which spiritual meditations and the thoughts of the heart are sifted and broken small, and are discerned, whether they be pure and truly good, whether they be from God, or from an evil spirit, or from the human heart. For the evil spirit knows how to suggest certain thoughts which seem spiritual, and the human spirit at times feigns and lies that it is the Holy Spirit, as is read in Job: Behold, my belly is as new wine (Job XXXII). Which happened also to Elias himself [Eliae; read Eliu, "Elihu"], who brought forth words through the swelling of his own spirit which he believed himself to speak from the Holy Spirit and from zeal for God. For by the belly is understood the bosom of the heart, by the new wine the fervor of the Holy 455DSpirit, by which Eliu in Job supposed himself to be stirred, when yet he was moved by the impulse of his own heart alone. In many such things a man follows the motion of the heart, or even the impulse of a vice, and yet judges himself to be moved by the Holy Spirit. The demons too at times hide evils under the appearance of good, they stir men up to certain good things, and, that they may lead them through to evil, they even announce things to come. For certain things to come they are able to foretell, because at times they know them; certain things they search out through the subtlety of their nature; certain things they learn from the holy angels revealing them; certain things they conjecture from the outcomes of causes, certain from the natural things of man, certain from the disposition of the air. And for a long while they declare some things as they are, that at last they may deceive the credulous 456Amind. They deceive also by false devotion, because they produce in the soul certain prayers and meditations, a sweet affection, even tears, that they may lead either the mind into error, or into elation, or the body into weakness. At times they suggest, by a false interpretation, that something of Scripture is to be understood otherwise, or that from it something is to be done otherwise, than the truth holds; they make some men ill solicitous about the salvation of others, whom they stir up and kindle to the conversion or the edification of others set far off, so far as to cast them down from the stillness of the mind and from their own profit. Which business, painting it in the soul as a kind of day, they insinuate as more healthful and more useful than their former occupation.

When therefore something is suggested to us to be done, we ought to weigh whether any indiscretion, 456Bin some part of itself, mingle itself in, or the guile of the enemy thrust itself forward; and fully to examine it: whether it be done with due fear and caution; whether not so much our own profit as also that of others consist in it; whether human praise or ostentation creep in; whether any vanity or lightness impel; whether it dissent in nothing from Scripture or from the examples of the saints. But whatever is from an evil spirit will be able to be caught out as false in some part, or its peril hangs upon the future and will quickly be laid bare; because the enemy, in uncovering his own fraud, will suggest more openly what he had hidden, whereby he will be known. The Holy Spirit also works in the soul in divers manners, whence his operations must be known and discerned. For at times he converts the mind by fear of punishment, at times he ascends to the love of God, nor yet does he afford much 456Cknowledge. He moves the mind, and stirs it up to the good and to God, nor yet does he at once make the man perfect. For in these there is not full knowledge, but a beginning and an incitement to the good, or a consolation; because these things one who is weak and imperfect sometimes perceives, and one who attains less to knowledge and to spiritual understanding. But when he shall have made progress in knowledge, and thereafter ascends to the degree of contemplation, if he perceives something of God, and then seems to himself perfectly to comprehend it, he does not understand it as it is in God; whence Elias, who saw the Lord pass by, because he understood him to be incomprehensible, says that the Lord is not present in spirit, and in commotion, and in fire, but in the whistling of a light air; because whatever is able to be perfectly comprehended is not there, but rather there something subtle 456Dis perceived of God, and that which could not be fully comprehended. To one still beginning and weak grace is given, that being enlightened by it he may know himself, and being strengthened may be able to correct himself, and so may come more fully to acquaintance. For acquaintance of this kind is not attained unless, the manners being bettered, a greater purity of heart be obtained. The more perfectly each man shall have cleansed the eyes of the heart, the more fully will he be able to see God; and the more fully he sees him, the more does he understand him whom he sees to be incomprehensible. Whence he who has made progress in acquaintance perceives perfectly concerning God, and understands whatever he can grasp of him to be a small thing. For the nearer he approaches to wisdom and to acquaintance, the less does that seem to him to be which he can grasp; because, according to Solomon, the more 457Aa man is made wise, the more does wisdom itself withdraw from him (Eccle. VII), that is, he understands only this much, how incomprehensible it is. Such knowledge does not press upon the soul, but kindles and humbles her, and shows her own blindness to her more fully. In this each man can know that he savors soundly, and that his eye then sees God, if he himself reproves himself out of humility, and hungers the more for the wisdom he has perceived, and understands that what he has grasped of it, or can grasp, is the least thing. Between the Holy Spirit therefore and his own a man ought carefully to distinguish, and to examine himself, and, when he is moved to some good work, whether some human delight, or a vice, or a temptation impel him to the carrying out of it. For there are in the soul certain impulses from the disposition of the man, or from some cause, 457Bor occasion, or curiosity, or ambition, or lightness, or vice, or temptation. Those which are from vice or from temptation must be altogether guarded against. Those which are from our humanity and from the rest before named we can tolerate, and use well, namely that we never follow them, but suffer them at our side, for ministry and not for harm, that is to say, that from them we may have a greater eagerness for carrying out that work which we intend to do. For where natural things work together with us without another cause, our spirit is the readier in these, and more eagerly carries out what it intends.

For it must be seen, and altogether guarded against, that no carnal or human delight impel us principally; nor let us follow such an impulse, even if we suffer it, 457Cbut where we know the impulse of the Holy Spirit to be, there let us walk, and let us do what he suggests. Likewise it must be considered that in a soul still weak and imperfect the carnal motions are more prone than the spiritual. Whence when anyone is moved easily to some good, and with a certain lightness of heart, it is to be feared that lightness of this kind comes from carnality, especially if something be annexed there which might be able to delight possis his humanity. Likewise the eagerness of the heart is suspect, when a man is impelled to something with a certain vehemence and impatience of delay; because the Holy Spirit is modest and tranquil, and his motions are tempered. Lightness of heart, natural kindliness benegnitas, prosperity, or some arisen cause of gladness also at times works together with devotion, and mounts it more fully. 457DAnd likewise a sadder disposition, or some adversity, and a cause of sorrow, presses it down and even hinders it. Whence in prayer some simple man is at times falsely consoled, or distrusts, while according as he feels the eagerness of his spirit he conjectures the signs of being heard, prophesying out of his own heart, and judging that what his own heart speaks the Lord speaks. The enemy also knows how to deceive by false consolations, or by false revelations, him whom he catches credulous in such things. Whence the discretion of these spirits must be known; all which things, while the devout soul judges and examines them, she grinds and breaks small as it were with certain teeth of discretion. These are the teeth of the bride, which are likened to flocks of shorn sheep; the shearings are harmless thoughts, cutting away outward things, 458Anamely the love of earthly things, and the desire of having the prudence of the world. For the love of earthly things blinds the eyes of the heart, weighs down and presses down the mind, that it may not be able to rise up to the knowledge and discretion of spiritual things. Worldly wisdom also does not grasp God, nor does the animal man perceive the things that are of the Spirit of God. For God has made foolish the wisdom of this world, so that the more a man savors earthly things, the less he savors God; and the more widely the heart is stretched out, the more is it straitened in the love of divine things. For thus the light of outward things and of carnality so beclouds a man that he apprehends the less the purity of discerning spiritual things; and the more he is scattered abroad to many things, the less does he gather himself to the one thing and most necessary. Inwardly also something at times clings 458Bto the soul whereby the discretion of spiritual things is greatly hindered, namely her own will. The more this seeks its own, the less is it joined to God; and the more it abides in itself, and does not ascend to God, the less does it apprehend the things that are of God. Likewise he who loves his own will is not able to perceive discretion; because, while he follows what delights and not what the truth judges, as he withdraws from the truth, so is he separated from true knowledge, and thus from discretion. This is the fleece which must be cut off, namely at the end of delight, the weight by which, while the soul is warmed and burdened, she is hindered from spiritual things. So the shorn sheep (namely these harmless thoughts) more freely grasp and discern spiritual things, and write wisdom in the emptiness of these. These thoughts come up from the washing, 458Cthat is, from compunction and the tears of penitence. In this washing they are cleansed from the filth alike of sins and of vices, and are unburdened of their weight, that they may be able to come up, and to climb to the acquaintance with spiritual things. For compunction fully consumes sins and vices, and cleanses the soul from all their filth, and at the same time from the dregs of carnality; it opens also the pores of the heart, and pours forth the rains of the virtues, by which she may be able to fly to these things and to be lifted up. The soul, suffused with these, rises as at daybreak to discern her single thoughts, and to see whether any has strayed, or has been impure, or has worked uselessly. So discretion, while after innocence and the casting off of worldly things, and the mortification of her own will, she is cleansed through the grace of compunction, and 458Dis instructed unto the understanding and examination of spiritual things, is deservedly declared to come up from the washing.

They are all with twin offspring, and there is not a barren one among them (Cant. IV). Great is the virtue of discretion, by which a man searches out in what part he is prone to evil, or disposed to good, and how much the goods of nature and the gifts of grace can support him; he discerns virtues and vices, the motions of the heart also, the causes arising from without or from within, works more perfect or imperfect, the consolation of grace and the knowledge of these things; in short, he is eager to know his inward and outward 459Astate. For discretion, applied to the word of God, is more piercing than any two-edged sword, reaching unto the division of the soul and the spirit, of the joints also and of the marrow, and a discerner of the thoughts and intentions of the heart: this shows a man how there is a twofold affection in him, namely a carnal and a spiritual; and that, so long as the carnal is not yet tamed, the soul cannot perfectly be delighted in spiritual things; and although she exult in the Lord, yet the flesh cannot exult, according to what the Prophet says: My heart and my flesh have exulted in the living God (Psal. LXXXIII). So long as a man is so diverse and divided, he does not fully rise up to spiritual joy, nor to the carrying out of any laborious work. For one still imperfect and carnal is without strength for 459Bany laborious work, for the doing of which he has nothing of his own, that is, in which no will of the heart draws him, nor delight of the flesh, nor any human cause or occasion, with which he very greatly prevails to do spiritual things for which, out of grace alone, he would be less ready. All the works and desires of such a soul are imperfect, because partly she is borne by the impulse of the flesh, partly she is moved spiritually. Of such a one it is to be suspected that in every work in which he is found frequent or ready, or in which he perseveres for a long time, grace alone does not help him, but along with it some human delight. But if the motion of venial sins impelled him more frequently than that of reason or of charity, unless he blotted them out through penitence, 459Cit would be to be feared that he would quickly fall into a mortal one, and be buried under the sand of such things. Yet so long as a man is not so blinded that he turns aside from charity, what he does will not be fruitless, because whatever is done out of charity does not lose its merit. If finally the enemy stir up one established in charity to some good work, that he may turn him away from a more useful one, or in some way deceive him, even this will be meritorious to the man who does not know it and who intends it well, because it is done out of charity. For so far do the camps of the devil serve God as a demon, with evil intention, stirs a man up to some good. For the enemy does not always assail openly, but at times under the appearance of good joins himself to a man that he may deceive him. The very nature also of man and his disposition is, in some good work, contrary 459Dand without strength; in another so ready that its eagerness could seem to be devotion: for natural things are exceedingly powerful in man, so that in an imperfect man there proceed from them more frequently the motions of thought, of speech and of work, and likewise of joy or of sadness, of eagerness of heart or of weariness, and of the other affections of the soul. Even in the most devout man, and in one who more perfectly rules all his motions inward and outward, yet the things he does are formed according to his own disposition, and these natural things help or hinder.

For as is commonly said, that which has been in some vessel savors of the vessel; whence it happens that an irascible man, even though he be moved by a good zeal, natural bitterness mingles itself in. If anyone shall have been light or slack more than he ought, the one will pursue rigor strictly, the other 460Aclemency loosely. Likewise a man sad or rigid from natural disposition shows less kindness; one benevolent and pleasant, less of the rigor of discipline. In these things and the like we must keep ourselves from her who sleeps in our bosom, namely human frailty, so that even the most devout man be wary for himself against those motions by which he feels his nature disposed and prone to evil. All these things discretion knows and judges, and in what manner it must deal with them that they may become meritorious. It understands also in what manner the nature of man, or another cause, helps or hinders the works of the virtues, namely of humility, patience, obedience, meekness, charity, and all the rest. And that a man merits not according as he is ready or slow in any of these, but according 460Bas he is rooted in the virtues and has an intense charity. For at times, according to the natural things of a man or another cause, one has a greater charity while having less eagerness in some work of virtue, and one having less charity has greater eagerness. For the virtues, since all, are equal, cannot all be exercised equally, because according to natural disposition one man is more prone to exercise this one than that; which yet are all equal, because they proceed from the same root. If therefore anyone be more prone and more disposed to compassion than to patience, yet patience is as perfect in him as compassion, because both virtues proceed from the same charity. For out of as great a charity as he has compassion, out of 460Cso great is he patient; because from an equal charity, and by both virtues, he merits equally, because an equal charity obtains an equal reward. And although a man exercise this one more laboriously than that, if his motion is as much intended in carrying out this as in that, he merits as much; nay rather, he who strives and labors merits more, because here the battle is greater, and in him charity is the more increased. A like judgment holds concerning devotion; because, if two be in equal charity, and the one have the grace of exercising himself in devotion, while the other labors under temptation, or wages war against some weakness or imperfection, this latter merits as much by the motions and the striving of the battle as the former by devotion and eagerness of mind; nay, he will be able to merit more if he has striven 460Dlawfully. Paul declares, in these words in which he says, that a man is able to merit most in the labor of temptation, and that in it charity is increased: When I am weak, then am I stronger and powerful (II Cor. XVIII) [Vulg. cum infirmor, tunc potens sum, "when I am weak, then am I powerful"]. For vehement weariness and bitterness of heart exercises the virtues, it does not overthrow them. Whether therefore a man labor under sloth, and dryness of heart, and some temptation, or whether he enjoy devotion to the full, he can merit as much in that adverse state as in this prosperous one, if his motion and striving be as much intended in the struggling.

But it happens that a man is moved more in that virtue to which he is better disposed, and so merits more; whence for the weak the state of devotion is for the most part more fruitful, but it belongs to the robust and the constant 461Ato merit more fully in the adverse state. Yet it happens that the weak man is made equal in the spiritual battle to the strong; because the more without strength he is than he, the more he labors in resisting; whence what the one acquires by virtue, this the other acquires by a greater weariness. But if rather, because both the weak and the strong slip more frequently into venial sins, because he labors alike in resisting, it happens the more that to the punishment owed for venial sins there answers the punishment of resisting, and that punishment blots out punishment. Nevertheless in him who commits fewer venial sins charity often grows the more. Discretion understands all these things, and knows how to use well the adverse state as well as the prosperous. In this manner therefore it makes a twin fruit, while it moderates both states, and profits from it. And likewise, while it both guards against the evil of indiscretion and prudently 461Bdoes the good. For if anyone intend well and act less prudently, he offends; because, itself [se; read si, "if"] thou offer rightly, and divide not rightly, thou hast sinned, says the authority; likewise it makes a twin fruit, while it both rules the thoughts within and prudently disposes the work without. Not only does it make this twofold fruit in itself, it makes it also in others, whom it amends as much by the admonition of prudence as by the example of working rightly. Rightly therefore are these goats (namely discreet examinations) said to have a twin fruit, which both in themselves and in others bear fruit and beget spiritual offspring, and there is not a barren one among them. For no labor of examining these things, no motion of pious intention, nothing finally that is done by charity will be able to be barren, but it is fruitful and meritorious.

• 461C

Thy lips are as a scarlet fillet, and thy speech sweet (Cant. IV). The lips of the bride are compared to a fillet, because as a fillet binds together the hair, lest it flow down loosely, so the devout soul binds and restrains her lips, lest they speak evil or useless things, and flow down and be dissolved unto her own ruin or that of others. And this fillet is called scarlet because by scarlet is understood charity, wherewith these lips are bound. For through the love of God and of the neighbor words are contained and repressed, namely that nothing be brought forth which either offends God or harms the neighbor. This dilectio may be called Dei lectio, a reading of God, or Dei electio, a choosing of God. For she reads God in the school 461Dof the heart; there she learns to know God, to savor God. She also chooses God in love, and God has chosen her, and has chosen her beforehand; whence also before others she reads in him, and learns what she thinks, speaks and does. He who is one Spirit with God, as he does not perceive the things that are foreign to him, so neither does he speak them. He who is allied to goodness is not disjoined from it through hurtful things. He who cleaves to truth is turned away from vanity, because truth and vanity do not dwell together in one dwelling; and whoever has been devout does not flow away through useless words. The lips therefore of the bride, because they compress words lest they flow loosely, are compared to life [vitae; read vittae, "a fillet"]. But because they are dyed through the love of God, they are likened to scarlet. Fillets are wont, while they bind the hair, also to adorn the head, and to show that very adornment in minds. 462ASo the keeping and discipline of speaking adorns the mind, which is the head and the chief part of a man, and outwardly shows the soul beautiful. For words loose and ineptly brought forth deform outwardly, and inwardly scatter the rectitude of the mind. For with as many superfluous words as a man uses, in so many ways is he led outside himself, and scattered from his own keeping. But where words shall have been composed and brought forth with discipline, they give testimony of constancy of mind, of prudence and of discretion. The lips therefore of the bride are compared not to any fillet whatever, but to a scarlet one, which is more precious; because so great a discipline of speaking is the more sublime and the more worthy in her, inasmuch as it is not had from human wisdom, or from natural disposition only, but from divine love. But one man is naturally of a good disposition 462Band of modest speech, another moderating his words out of natural prudence, according to what Solomon says: He that moderates his lips is most prudent (Prov. X); but that which is had from grace and charity is more pleasing, and edifies. Whence it is added that the speech of such a soul is sweet. Deservedly is that speech sweet which proceeds from grace and from divine love; whence, because it arises from such a root, it delights outwardly and edifies. What is brought forth out of a dry and empty heart, because it does not pour out of a full one, does not edify or refresh. He who is needy in himself cannot enrich others, nor pour out again that with which he has not been poured in. For he who brings forth words out of a full heart, and fulfills in work what he says, his words have effect, they have savor and are sweet. Deservedly therefore is the speech of a devout soul sweet 462Cand delights, is pleasing and edifies, because it proceeds from charity and flows forth from the fountain of grace. For she tastes that the Lord is sweet: whence she pours out again the sweetness which she experiences, and belches forth the fullness which she enjoys; for because the heart is filled with spiritual delights, it belches forth outwardly a good word of sweetness, of consolation, of instruction, of admonition; the storehouses of the heart are full of these riches, belching forth from this gift of grace into that, from this spiritual meditation into that, from one fullness into another. Out of the abundance therefore of the heart she has refreshment, out of the taste sweetness. Likewise she has sweet words, because her conscience has been cleansed from the bitterness of vices and from the dregs of carnality. Whence they do not savor of rancor, not 462Dof indignation, not of anger, not of envy, not of detraction, nor finally of anything that is hurtful, or dishonorable, or of a vice or an imperfection lying hidden in the soul, whence she might bring forth judgment. The words of such a soul have kindness or charity, meekness, patience, humility. In the bitterness of an injury received they keep sweetness, because the soul retains charity. Nor is she only patient, but also kind, so that she grieves more over him who wounds her than over her own wounding, that she may grieve together with him. She is more prone to pardon than to anger, to compassion than to indignation. For as is read in Ecclesiasticus: In the commandments of God is wasting and death (Eccli. XXVIII) [Vulg. tabitudo enim et mors imminent in mandatis ejus, "for wasting and death threaten in his commandments"], that is, compassion, whereby a man wastes away through compassion over the sins of his neighbors, 463Aand death, that is, the mortification of vices; because he has mortified these in himself, when provoked he knows not only how to pardon, but even how to suffer together with the other. For while he knows his own misery, and himself seeks mercy from God, that he may be pardoned, he has mercy, that God may have mercy on him: Remember the testament of the Most High, says Ecclesiasticus, and despise the ignorance of thy neighbor (ibid.). The testament of the Most High is, that is, the covenant, that if we forgive, it be forgiven us. He who wills that it be forgiven him is mindful of this testament, and forgives that it may be forgiven him; he also despises the ignorance of his neighbor, that is, he contemns and does not care for the folly of the man who reviles or wounds him. For he is foolish who wounds and does not know what he does, because he harms himself, and renders a service to him whom he wounds. For the fool serves the wise man (namely unto salvation) 463Bwhile he afflicts him; and he who does injury holds also the place of a sick man, while he is unable to restrain his own motions; but the patient and long-suffering man bears the manner of one strong and unharmed, while he is not overcome by evil, but overcomes evil in good; he would be overcome if he succumbed through impatience, but he overcomes while he bravely bears; nor does he envy, nor does he answer a banquet [convivium; read convicium, "a reproach"], nor does he in any way harm the man who has reviled him; therefore he is not overcome by evil, lest he be evil together with him; nor does he answer the fool according to his folly, lest he be made like to him; but by a soft answer he breaks the anger of the man stirred up, and soothes the viper. Such a soul knows how to excuse before herself the man stirred up, and to ascribe what he has said rather to weakness or imperfection than to malice, and to reckon this with herself, that after a little while it will repent him of having so gone beyond bounds in words. 463CFor she does not attend to the present state, and to the things which he did when stirred up, but rather to his former tranquillity, or even friendship, and that after a little while the man will return to himself. Not only therefore does she set a keeping to her mouth when the sinner stands against her, but at all times she keeps the ways of her words, that she may not offend in her tongue. Because if the vessel of the mouth have not a lid (of silence and of keeping), it will be unclean. And with as many superfluous words as she shall have contracted stains, so much will she dry up of the sweetness of grace. Through the keeping of the mouth therefore she preserves the cleanness of the heart, and out of the cleanness of the heart she forms her words outwardly. Christ therefore commends this keeping in the bride, and compares it to scarlet, because she is informed by charity, and knows how to speak for God's sake and not for human 463Dpraise or seemliness; therefore he proclaims her sweetness, because it does not proceed from flattery, or from a feigned kindness of words, but from grace and purity of heart.

Thy cheeks are as a piece of a pomegranate, besides that which lies hidden within (Can. IV). In the cheeks, which he says are as a piece of a pomegranate, shame is designated; because, while we blush, we are red in the cheeks. The pomegranate is red without, and white within, and is full of grains, whence also it is called a granate apple; to which are likened the cheeks of the devout soul, which is red without, that is, blushes at the memory 464Aand recollection of past sins, at the daily and shamefaced consideration of shameful thoughts or of temptations, at her weakness also and imperfection: these very things she sees unceasingly, that God may not see them, to whom every heart lies open; and she judges all things also, that God may not judge them. For what she shall have had before herself will not be before God, and what she judges, God will not judge, who does not judge twice for the same thing; if only she shall have judged sufficiently her sins and all her reprehensible things, and shall have had before herself the things which displease God and could be objected against her by him, and paints for herself an image of these, and is red for them, that is, blushes; she is displeasing to herself that she may be pleasing to him, she becomes worthless to herself, and appears base in her own eyes; but as much as she blushes for herself, as much as she seems base to herself, so much is she made beautiful before God. For she sets apart 464Bthe useless from the useful, she winnows the chaff and separates it from the grains, and burns these with the fire of confession and of penitence; the grains she hides within by this humility, by this redness of confession and of confusion, and from her sins she is made clean, and comely before God. This redness therefore both consumes sins and adorns the face. This rind of humility guards and preserves good things. For humility is the keeper of the virtues. This redness of the cheeks adorns the soul, kindles God to love of her, provokes him to look upon her. For the heavenly Bridegroom looks upon the shamefacedness and humility of the devout soul; a lowered countenance pleases him, not an upraised one, eyes not lofty but cast down; and so far does he love and gaze upon this redness, that he does not see the redness of sin wherewith she was red like a little worm, but wholly hands it over to oblivion. 464CPrudently therefore the bride covers and wipes away this redness with the other, and being made judge of herself for God's sake she exchanges redness for redness, and offers to the divine gaze what is pleasing, and hides what is hurtful. For the lover of men gratefully receives this exchange, who wills not the death of sinners, but their conversion.

Well therefore does the soul divide with God, leaving indeed her own good things to the divine judgment, but herself reproving and judging her evil ones, converting the hurtful redness and the healthful one, and blushing through penitence, she who was red through fault, so that thus she who was defiled may also be beautiful, and there may be comeliness in place of baseness, a sweet odor in place of stench. Whence these cheeks, that is the redness, are compared to a granate apple, because it has redness without, and within 464Dthe whiteness of the grains. But it is not said to be like a whole granate apple, but a piece, which partly hides the grains, partly uncovers them: for although good men hide their virtues, that they may be known only to the Lord, yet sometimes they are in part uncovered, and become known to men. For no devout man can so lie hidden but that sometimes, from some work of virtue, it is caught what he is. Likewise where the granate apple is broken, there the grains are seen, which are not seen where it remains whole; if the rind be opened, even there the whiteness and virtue of the others lying hidden is found. So in a perfect soul the virtues lie hidden, but while she is beaten with adversities, it is uncovered. She is known to have patience, while she bears an injury, and does not envy, nor is overcome by anger; humility, while she bears contempt with an even mind, 465Aand is not caught striving after exaltation; obedience, by the fulfilling of it in adversities; charity, by the love of enemies; love of God, by the observance of the commandments; compassion for the neighbor, by succor in his need. So by works is perfection proved. And according to Job the bones which had been covered are laid bare (Job XXXIII), that is, the virtues which had lain hidden are made manifest. The soul has also the redness of the pomegranate in her cheeks, when for Christ's sake she does not flee the blushing of reproach, of poverty, of contumelies, of afflictions and of labors. For in these she is pleased with herself for Christ's sake, and is willingly suffused with this redness for love of him, who in his passion was made red with his own precious blood poured out for her. So after the likeness of the pomegranate good men are red without, but within are white with divers 465Bgifts of graces. But their affliction is compared not to a whole apple, because they have not borne things like to the passion of Christ, nor were they full of grace as he was, but out of his fullness all have received. For Christ in his suffering can be likened to a pomegranate which is full and whole, because he was full of grace, which was not given to him by measure. And he was wholly red in his punishment, because he bore for us not small things, nor a part of sorrows or of labors, but things so great and so grievous that never was there any sorrow like his sorrow. It was more bitter, and exceeded the sorrows of all men which they were to suffer from the beginning of the world unto its end. But it behooved his sorrow to be the more bitter, that he might bear the sorrows of all, 465Cbecause he was a victim sufficient for all, but not efficians. For he did not make all safe, which yet rests upon those very men who are not saved. For from the hour of his birth he labored under want, flight, persecutions, hunger, thirst, many labors and adversities. In his heart also he suffered, because he was incomparably afflicted by this, that he knew the bitterness of his passion before he undergoes it, and knew most certainly that he was to suffer it. In his passion also he was tormented not in a part of the body, but in the whole body. For not only were his limbs transfixed with nails, but the body itself also bore stretchings, punishment and scourges; and the head, besides the blows and the veiling of the eyes, bore also the prickings and wounds of thorns. Because therefore Christ suffered so grievously and in so manifold a way, 465Dtherefore every affliction of the elect, which they have borne for Christ or after Christ's example, can be compared only to a piece; because in respect of those things which he bore, the things which they were able to suffer will be small, and only a slight part of them. Whence while they consider and know these things, they esteem lightly all that they can suffer; and while they think upon his loftiness, and the greatness of the things he bore, and that he suffered this, as blessed Job speaks, without the iniquity of his own hand (Job XVI), and that he was crushed for our wickednesses, and by his bruise we are healed (Isai. LIII), they always make little of what they themselves can do. It delights them to bear adversities for him; they are kindled to greater things out of love of him, and always remain humble in themselves; without they are red with labors and afflictions, 466Awithin they are white with virtues; they suffer evils, they do good, and they become worthless to themselves. To a piece of a pomegranate are the cheeks of the devout soul compared. And besides these she has within divers merits and gifts of the Spirit, the perfection of the love of God, and the desire of dying for him.

Which if it is not granted in the body, she makes for herself a martyrdom in the mind. She mortifies carnal appetites, her own will, the vices of the heart, depraved manners; she wrestles with her own flesh, and with the enemy unceasingly assailing it. The martyrdom of abstinence also she has invisibly in the mind, while she represses the earthly delights of the heart, and the motions of sensuality, while she refuses all consolations which delight carnally. She suffers spiritually, while she is fried in the frying-pan of the mind with zeal for souls, while she is tormented over 466Bthe contempt of justice, over the prevailing iniquity of evil men. The martyrdom of passion also she obtains, while she is afflicted for those who sin, while she suffers together with the sick, while she condescends to those laboring under any necessity whatever. Likewise it lies hidden, nor does it appear without, how all her glory is from within, and that she is the daughter of the heavenly King; in what manner she serves him, not with penal fear, but with filial love; that she does the justifications of God, not only for the sake of retribution, but willingly sacrifices to God and confesses, that is, praises him because he is good, loving the good for the good's sake, and is delighted with the good itself and with the good pleasure of God. Finally she glories in God only, not in the world, nor in any thing, without outward or earthly advantage. Likewise she has the testimony of a good conscience: nothing that gnaws at her conscience, 466Cnothing that she believes, in doing, to be against God, nothing intending otherwise than according to God. In manifold ways also she merits secretly in the heart; because, with God alone as witness, she intends or does many things inwardly. For she merits by the motions of desires, by the contemplation of things above, by compunction of heart, by delight in the love of God, by compassion for the neighbor and by prayer, by the will of accomplishing something which she is not able to do; because before God she nevertheless does as much as she intends; rightly out of as great a charity as she intends, so much does she merit, because she is judged to have done so much. She has also hidden merits in the heart, which although they lie hidden are known by God; because, with him alone as witness and privy to them, many things which are merits are done in secret. 466DHow many are the ways in which she secretly humbles herself for God's sake in heart or in work, or, being humbled by others, willingly bears it; and many times also, being injured, keeps silence, when she could reasonably answer, lest she desert the virtue of patience? At times also, when the injury shall have been greater and the cause of excuse better, she does not defend or excuse herself, knowing that then virtue the more profits in her, and merit grows. Since her friends are wordy, her eye drops toward God. For these who do injury are friends, because out of them she makes gain, and they do not harm but render service: for because they make a din with words, with the eye of her intention she drops toward God, whom she knows to be the witness of conscience and the rewarder of hidden things. She knows, according to place and time, now to be silent, now to speak, now to set herself against certain 467Acauses, now to bear, now to do something, now to leave off; wherein she is not led by negligence, but uses discretion and a pure intention. These are the things which lie hidden within, and commend the bride in the eyes of the inward judge, who sees hidden things.

As the tower of David is thy neck, which is built with bulwarks (Cant. IV). [Vulg. aedificata est, "has been built"] The neck joins the head and the members. Whence by the neck are signified those who by preaching or by admonition convert others, and join them to Christ the head. These are as the tower of David, strong in grace and lofty before God: for nothing so pleases God as zeal and the gain of souls. 467BThis tower is a spiritual building, namely the construction and heaping up of good works, the increase of grace, and perfect love dilectis of God and of neighbor. In these, by the grace of Christ, both preachers and other devout and perfect men are made solid, according to their measure and their capacity, urgently intent upon the conversion of others. This is the tower of David, who is interpreted strong of hand, and signifies Christ, who strengthens us, that in Christ we may be able to do all things, and in whom every building, being framed together, grows and advances. This tower is said to be not so much theirs as Christ's, from the fact that it is completed by the power of Christ rather than by their own. Not I, says Paul, but the grace of God with me (I Cor. XV). And Job: Behold, there is no help for me in myself (Job VI); 467Cwhence elsewhere too he makes plain that he had no confidence in himself, saying: I have despaired (Job VII). Who, by this that he despaired of himself, grew strong the better in divine hope. As much as the faithful distrust themselves, so much do they trust in the help of divine hope; and as much as they are made weak in themselves, so much are they strong and mighty in God. For as that which is sown unless it first die, so he who wishes to make progress is not strengthened unless he be first made weak in himself, and be humbled thereby; nor does he advance in God if he does not first fail in himself, and know his own failing. It is impossible therefore that anyone be able to triumph over himself, until he has learned by experience that he cannot obtain the triumph by his own power. And so to those who know their weakness, and who humble themselves thereby, and who do not trust in themselves, Christ affords 467Dstrength, that they may cease to be strong carnally and may grow strong spiritually so, while they despair of themselves and hope in Christ, they change their strength, and take wings as eagles and fly. For he who had been strong in seeking earthly things, let them become strong in desiring the things above and the heavenly: My soul hath chosen hanging, says blessed Job, and my bones death (Job VII). Because while by his intention he hung himself toward the things above, he mortified carnal strength in himself. But this carnal mortification is not obtained at once, nor without labor. For no one becomes highest suddenly, nor is the top of a ladder climbed by flying, but by ascending step by step. It is necessary therefore that everyone making progress strive to conquer himself, and to break his own wills, and to beware not only of greater sins but also of lesser delights. 468AFor as much as he is conquered by his own will, or by delight, or by carnal consolation, even in the least things, so much does he fall away from strength, and become weak in mind. For by whom a man is overcome, he is made his servant also; and as much as he is overcome, so much is he led into this servitude. Again, as much as he succumbs to the small suggestions of the enemy, so much does he make him strong against himself, as Job says in the person of such a one: He rushed upon me like a giant (Job XVI), so that now he is not able to resist him to whom, by frequently yielding, he was giving strength against himself. He therefore who by living softly and dissolutely has afforded the enemy strength against himself, let him, conversely, that he may be strengthened against him and resist him, begin from the least things, and often try to prevail in such things, so that by the practice of conquering he may be strengthened, and from the victory over lesser things 468Bmay little by little grow strong for conquering greater. He ought also to accustom himself to decline the delights and comforts of the body, and to break the wills of the heart. As much as he shall have prevailed in these, and shall have broken himself, so much will he be unbroken and strong spiritually. As often therefore as he resists either the carnal motions of the heart or the suggestions of the enemy, so often is strength adjudged to him against vices or temptations. He ought also to shun faint-heartedness and womanish softness, and to accustom himself to fitting labors and afflictions of the body. For if he is conquered by faint-heartedness, he will little by little fail, and will be unnerved from the strength of the spirit.

By these aforesaid means the soul which desires to build in herself the tower of the 468Cspiritual building ought to grow strong out of weakness, and to pass over into manly strength. And although this tower is called the strong hand of Christ, because it is completed by his help and power, it is nevertheless needful that all a man's industry and labor be applied as well. The perfect have conquered all these things, because they have both compelled the body to serve the spirit, and have subjected the unlawful motions of the heart to reason. To a tower therefore are compared preachers, or other devout men who are eager to attend to the conversion of others, because they who are eager to raise others to the things above and the heavenly ought themselves to be firm and lofty by merit. Now this tower has bulwarks (namely the diverse teachings of Scripture) whereby it may defend itself against enemies, and from which it may assail and strike them. For in Holy Scripture it sees the snares and cunning devices of the enemies by which they deceive men, now 468Dby open evils, now by hidden ones, now by other and other ways. Whence the Lord in Job declares that the enemy now fights against the soldier of Christ out of a quiver by ambushes, now brandishes a spear before his face (Job XXX), because some vices he covers over under the appearance of virtues, and others, as they are open, he casts before his eyes; and if he does not deceive a man by open battle, he sets a shield against him, so that if by striking he does not pierce the breast of the one resisting, he may at least block the way of the one making progress by certain objections, and hinder him with alien thoughts or occupations. For he suggests something that may delight a man, or may seem to have usefulness, that he may turn him away from the more useful thing that he was intending to do. But the Lord established the sacred word, in which he uncovers the arguments of the demons, and sets against them 469Athe remedies by which he may be met. For as many as can be the arguments of his temptations, so many teachings are found in Scripture against them. The Lord himself also, when tempted, answered the enemy out of Scripture. For when he urged him to change stones into loaves, he confounded him out of Scripture (Matth. IV). And so when he suggests to us the eating of bread (that is, of earthly delight), let us consider that we are more blessed if we eat the labors of our hands, that is, if out of the tribulation of our labors we are refreshed by the consolation of hope and by joys. For he who understands out of Scripture what reward he awaits for his labor, and that for single labors a reckoning of a thousand years in eternal happiness, and more, corresponds, is rightly refreshed better by his labors than by earthly delight, and eats this the more joyfully. 469BLet us therefore call to mind that saying of blessed Job: His bread in the belly shall be turned into the gall of asps within (Job XX). Because earthly delight, bitter at the end of retribution, is known to have been the persuasion of demons, while those who have fed upon it are led to the bitterness of eternal torment. These two testimonies of Scripture are as it were two bulwarks, by which we may be defended from the enemy, and may conquer him. Again, we are taught out of Scripture that the enemy urges us to cast ourselves down, when he suggests the affecting of miracles. For we read that weakness of conscience is better than the vanity of signs. Paul also teaches us to leave the things that are behind, and to be stretched forth to the things before (Philip. III), namely to progress toward virtue, not to the glory of miracles. 469CFor signs are given for the sake of unbelievers, that through them they may be converted to the faith, but the virtues of the soul are required of the faithful (I Cor. XIV): for without these there is no salvation. But signs have sometimes been done by unbelievers, or even by the reprobate, as for instance by Alexander of Macedon and Judas the traitor, and by many others, who did these things unto damnation. By some they were done for the faith or the profit of the bystanders. Sometimes too signs were done through demons, as it is written, that there are certain spirits of demons working signs. And so among the faithful, and especially among spiritual men, the signs of this time are deservedly suspect, especially those which have ostentation but no profit, namely those which are said to happen to these women, and which are shown to be done rather by demons 469Dthan by God. For there are in these days some, according to the Apostle, who, giving heed to certain spirits of error, turn away their hearing indeed from the truth, but are turned to fables and to the rumors of new things, because they wonder at and give heed rather to certain miracles, whether done by demons or feigned by certain persons to whom they seem to happen, than to perfection of manners and to virtues. For blessed Gregory says that perfection is not indeed to work miracles, but for each one to love others as himself, to know true things concerning God, and to think better of others than of ourselves.

Again he says that each one is perfect in so far as he perfectly feels the sorrows of others. And again, that he is truly perfect who is not 470Aimpatient toward the imperfection of his neighbor. Charity therefore, humility, patience and the other virtues, and perfect manners, make a man perfect, not miracles. And so salvation is in the virtues; upon these the soul is strengthened and stands firm in miracles she is not made solid or grounded, but is lifted up and raised to no purpose and in vain. Those therefore cast themselves down who affect miracles without cause of profit, and they are suspended to no purpose, they do not stand in the solid and the safe, so that they go backward, not forward, that they might go from virtue to virtue. But on the contrary Scripture teaches us not to tempt God in the showing of miracles, but rather to be eager for the perfection of virtues, and to give labor to the fulfilling of the commandments. The Lord also teaches us by his answer to meet the third temptation, when 470Bhe says: Thou shalt adore the Lord thy God (Matth. IV). For where God is said to be adored and he despises the kingdoms of the world, he calls forth to the worship of God, and teaches us to seek true riches and to despise the false. For if we worship God and serve him we shall possess unending riches, because for single good works a greater reward will be given us than the kingdom of the world is. Finally, of every single one who shall be saved we shall have a singular joy, and by the abundance of each we shall be more enriched than if we ruled over the whole world. These testimonies and examples of Scripture are bulwarks, by which we may defend ourselves from the enemy, and instruct and kindle others, and cast darts against the enemy; whence the enemy himself strives to hinder us in the understanding 470Cof Scripture, that we may not advance in the learning of it, staining and darkening the purity of spiritual understanding by earthly thoughts or by carnal knowledge. But when our Redeemer defends us from their temptations, then the mind lays hold of this knowledge, as is read in Job: The Almighty shall be against thy enemies, and silver shall be heaped up for thee (Job XXII), that is, the charity and purity of the divine word. God therefore, while he instructs his own with the understanding of Holy Scripture and refreshes them with its food, makes them at once wary and strong against temptations, as is rightly read in Job: In famine he shall deliver thee from death, and in war from the hand of the sword (Job V), so that while they are refreshed by the word of God, they may not be overcome in the war of temptation. As often therefore as we resist the temptations of the enemy, and when 470Dwe confute them, being both taught out of the Scriptures and helped by God, so often indeed do we strike and wound him, and the penalty is turned back upon him which would be inflicted on us if we were conquered by him: these teachings and testimonies of Scripture are the bulwarks with which the soldier of Christ fortifies and protects himself.

A thousand shields hang from it (Cant. IV). The shields are the virtues by which we are defended against vices or temptations. But by the number of a thousand the perfection of these same is signified. For if the virtues have been founded in the soul, she perfectly despises herself, and is truly humble, is less hurt or burdened, the vices or temptations have no strength against her, and he who perfectly 471Adespises himself, and is truly humble, is less hurt or burdened, if contempt be shown him. For he is not pierced by the dart of pride who, being founded in humility, understands the humility of exaltation, and glories in contempt or abjection, as it is written: Let the humble glory in his exaltation (Jac. I). For he who loves his enemies has blocked the entrance of envy; because envy does not penetrate a breast which it has found fortified by the perfection of charity, nor will he be moved in any degree by injury who, founded in the virtue of patience, rejoices even in reproaches. Again, he cannot seek his own who through charity desires his own things to be common to others. In the other virtues the soldier of Christ is fortified, that he may be able to meet the contrary vices, and on whatever side they assail him, on that side they are repelled by the virtues, and 471Bbeing repelled they leap back. And so a thousand shields hang on this tower, when a man shall have obtained all the virtues and perfectly attained them, so that on no side can a place lie open to the vices and to the tempter. For as much as the vices are untamed in anyone, as the carnal appetites, so much the more powerful are they erga cum, and the vices have strength to assail him. But when they have been overcome and mortified, and illumined by the contrary virtues, then if perchance they tempt or assail, they at once leap back, and cannot prevail. But he who is weak in the virtues, and has not yet subdued the vices, carries in himself that whereby he may be tempted and be weak. Hence it is that the apostle said that everyone is tempted by his own concupiscence (Jac. I), namely one still implanted in him, and not fully overcome. For as long as virtue and vice contend in a man, 471Cand virtue does not obtain a quiet place, it is necessary that the man be shaken and wearied by many temptations, and be now the upper, now the lower. But when he shall have possessed the virtues perfectly, then he perfectly presses down carnality, and overcomes and repels its assaults. And so these are the signs of perfection, if he has so subdued the vices that, when tempted whether by the concupiscence of the flesh, or by gluttony, or by his own will, but [sed; read sive, "or"] by affection for kinsfolk, or by some carnal motion, he feels himself strong against these, and easily presses them down beneath him. Again, the perfect man is ruled by reason, the imperfect man is often led by sensuality, and is weighed down by it. For the perfect man ought to be head to the members, that is, of sensuality, and to have it beneath him and press it down by reason. 471DBut that he may rule and press it down, it therefore behooves that it be illumined and strengthened by Christ, that he may be able to know the carnal motions and to bridle them when known. For if Christ be the head of the man, and rule the reason, the man too, that is the reason, will consequently be able to rule his own lower part, namely sensuality, and as much as he shall have received the Spirit of Christ, so much strength will he have for pressing it down. He therefore is perfect who by the strength of the spirit powerfully presses down both the wills of the flesh and the will of the heart. Again, these, namely the signs of perfection, if they proceed from a good conscience, not from a false righteousness or from presumption of faith, make a man have death in desire and life in patience, for the sake of God and of his brother's profit. Because therefore such is the soldier of Christ who has attained the aforesaid virtues 472Aand perfection, he is compared to a tower which is fortified with a thousand shields. In which tower all the armor of the strong is added to be, the armor of the strong is the lofty working of good men, and the examples of their virtues, with this armor the soldier of Christ is eager to fortify himself, who is eager to reform his own life by their example. In these each one sees what labors of heart and afflictions, and what temptations they bore, how manfully they fought it out, and broke their wills, and labored in fulfilling the commandments. How great was in them the cleanness of life, the purity of heart, and every perfection of virtues. How many there were in the deserts or in monasteries who were never filled with bread, never fully refreshed with sleep, never warmed with garments, never delighted with the sweetness of a bed, 472Bbecause, while in these things they were needy and afflicted, they were rich in the perfection of virtues and in the fullness of grace, commanding demons, healing the sick, and dwelling in mind in heaven. The examples of all these and the rest are the arms of the strong, which the soldier of Christ has with him, which he uses, with which he is armed and fortified against the enemies of the soul, against the world, against himself. He who shall have these examples with him, who always gives heed to such men, cannot grow lukewarm in idleness, nor perish unarmed and dissolute before the enemy. The evil too have their own arms, namely their members, which they yield as arms of iniquity inquitatis unto sin. For with their eyes they see to covet evil, they use the tongue for detracting, for reviling, or for speaking vain or useless things; they have itching ears for hearing 472Cnew or hurtful things, their feet run to evil, and their hands work iniquity, whose right hand is a right hand of iniquity. Finally with heart and body alike they war for sin, and through this for the devil; their arms do not fortify, but slay, and the more familiarly one joins himself to such men, the more grievously is he wounded by these arms. For he who associates with the evil and gives heed to them is separated from the good.

For in two ways they do harm, because they corrupt by example, and seduce by false praise. For because they do not know what is good, they proclaim him best who is not, and him good who has been exceedingly evil; and while anyone has been afflicted by their praises, he is little by little deprived of the knowledge of himself, and believes himself to be such as 472Dhe hears himself to be. For he thinks of himself not according to the testimony of his own heart, but according to the judgment of those who suppose this or that of him. Whence very many are moved by a false opinion about themselves. For to the things which are before the eyes the mind is easily inclined, so that it gives heed to them, or thinks according to them. Whence it is necessary that a man rather be eager to look with the eyes of the heart upon the strong and the perfect, and to set their virtues or deeds before himself and give heed to them. If he gives heed to the evil and entrusts himself to their judgment, he will fall and be seduced, and will be rolled down to worse things; if he thinks upon the good, he will be humbled and advanced to good. From the evil therefore, or the dissolute, we ought to be estranged in mind, and to ignore them (although they be placed near us), to turn our gaze away from considering them, but with the eyes of the heart to look upon the good, and to consider their manner of life 473Aand to be eager for their virtues. Among these we ought to dwell in mind, whose manner of life is in heaven, and so, according to that which is written, to walk with the good. If we are assiduous with such good men, and know them as acquaintances, and join ourselves to them in desire and love, we shall assuredly be made like them, so that with the holy we may be holy, with the robust, perfect. In this way therefore we ought to compare ourselves with them, and to transfer their examples to ourselves, and to place them with us as arms with which we may war spiritually. Thus the soldier of Christ dwells with these, and, as is read in Job, he abides among the stones (Job VIII), stones assuredly living and belonging to the heavenly structure, firm and squared, their vices and carnality cut and pruned away. With these he walks in heart, 473Bamong these he abides, not among earthly stones, namely carnal men who are of the earth and speak of the earth, and act and think after an earthly manner. Among these he abides who is delighted by their favors or their manners. But the good man abides among the stones with which he has a covenant, as is said to Job: Thy covenant with the stones of the regions (Job V). Whoever belongs to the building of the city above has a covenant with the stones of the regions, namely that he may imitate the firm and the strong who are or have been throughout the region of the world, and may be made like them. In this tower therefore, namely in the perfect man, is all the armor of the strong, that is, the examples and works of those who manfully contend in God. Their constancy in labors, their patience in adversities, temperance in prosperity, 473Ccharity toward enemies, obedience in hard things, endurance in injuries, devotion of mind, loftiness of contemplation, he places in his memory; these he thinks upon, in these he exercises himself, these he is eager to imitate, and by their example he shows himself devout and strenuous in the spiritual warfare: for the examples of good men build up, instruct and kindle. This strong armor therefore he has with him, and this he uses, that he may be made equal to their merits, and be endowed with their rewards.

Thy two breasts are as two fawns of a roe, twins, which feed among the lilies, until the day breathe, and the 473Dshadows decline (Cant. IV). These are the breasts whom above he had called the neck, teachers and also perfect men, converting others to good by admonition. These breasts are filled with the milk of charity, with which they refresh the younger and more tender, and as mothers they suckle and nourish them. The soul as yet carnal does not have these breasts, until she grow in grace, and turn the blood of carnality into the milk of devotion. But when she shall have grown in grace, and conceived tenderness, then she becomes a mother, she suckles the tender, she consoles the desolate; struck with insults or afflicted with injuries she pours out the milk of patience and of compassion, not the blood of carnal agitation. For because she is filled with the milk of tenderness, she shows forth the sweetness which she received, she has compassion on the miseries of the one hurting her more than she is moved by the injury. In him who does the injury there is wickedness 474Aof heart, and there is misery of soul. He also who endures has in himself that whereby he may be moved either to anger or to clemency. If he is indignant rather than compassionate, he is carnal, and himself also liable to the misery of sin; because as the one sins through wickedness, so does this one through anger and impatience. Blood touches blood, that is, sinner touches sinner. The touch proves what each one is. If the one touched, that is, struck by injury, had breasts, he would pour out milk. But when he suffers injury and does not suffer with it; he grieves and does not grieve with another, because he does not pour forth the milk of tenderness, he proves that he does not have breasts, nor is a mother, but a sister still little and not having breasts. Because therefore the perfect soul receives from above the grace which she pours back upon others, and thus she herself also is suckled, she is deservedly compared to fawns, which run to the milk 474Band seek the heights. For she rises from that whereby she herself may grow and may refresh others. The two fawns are the active and the contemplative, who assuredly do not cease to run to the milk of grace, this they desire, and they always tend toward the perfect, and seek the things above. They always reckon themselves new, always beginners and insufficient, because they stretch themselves to the things before, until they meet in the perfect man, until indeed they arrive at perfection; never do they judge that they have laid hold, but with themselves they say that they have only begun, with themselves they are always little ones, that is, humble, and therefore they seek the milk of grace, to this they tend, this they suck: whence, because they run unceasingly to this milk, they receive it, and by it are refreshed, and are so filled with its sweetness that its abundance suffices to supply the want of others. These are 474Cthe fawns of the roe, that is, of the Church, which is accustomed to seek the heights, and they are twins, because both are refreshed by the same doctrine, as twins are nourished by the same milk. For Holy Scripture instructs the contemplative just as it does the active, and therefore both find that whereby they may be spiritually nourished. But these feed among the lilies. By the lilies, which shine and have fragrance odotem, we understand the cleanness of those who live well and the fragrance of the virtues. Among which these twins feed, because they are delighted in the cleanness of the good and in the good fragrance of those who so live. In their salvation, and equally in the fragrance of good example, they rejoice, and in what they afford to others they are glad, among these things they are delightfully refreshed. For at the destruction of the evil they are tormented, but at the progress and prosperity of the good they rejoice together, as long as they dwell in the 474Dexile and blindness of this world. And this is what follows, until the day breathe, and the shadows decline. Until the ignorance and misery of the present life fail, and the day of eternity and of divine knowledge shine. But these breasts can be transferred to the blessed Virgin. For she has two breasts pouring out the milk of a twofold love, because she obtains pardon for the guilty and grace for the just. Which breasts are as two fawns of a roe; these fawns we can understand to be the angels and the souls of men already translated to the kingdom. Who are well called fawns, because they have climbed the mountain of the heavenly habitation, and are refreshed with the sweetness of divine contemplation, as fawns are accustomed both to seek the heights and to be nourished with milk. These twin fawns are of the roe, that is, of Christ, from whom alike they take and suck the milk of a twofold 475Asweetness, namely of divinity and of humanity. For the roe is Christ, because he leaped upon the mountains and sprang over the hills. And thus he gave a leap into the womb of the blessed Virgin. And from this into the world, and from the world into heaven, where he feeds those fawns with heavenly milk. And so, since both the angels and the holy souls are solicitous for sinners, and come to their help both by merits and by intercession, it is to be believed that the blessed Virgin can do as much in this as both these creatures; nay, she is judged mightier than both, because both are repaired through her, and the ruin of the angels has been restored through her, and human nature reconciled. But what wonder if the blessed Virgin pours out the milk both of reconciliation for sinners and of grace for the pious, she who reconciled the world, and bore grace itself, nay 475Bthe very fountain of grace, which is spread abroad through the world and stretched out even to the world's end? For the blessed Virgin is the paradise out of which that fountain goes forth, which is then divided into four heads, because from the body of Christ which proceeded from her there flowed forth a fountain of blood which sacramentally flowed thence into the four parts of the world, alike to wash away sins and to pour in grace upon his own. Deservedly therefore is her mercy compared to the running of fawns, it runs through the world, it waters the world and pours itself in. It is compared to the swiftness of fawns, because her tenderness runs to meet more swiftly than she is invoked, and anticipates the causes of the wretched; but she is compared to fawns, because the sweetness of goodness which she bestows she herself sucks from above. But these are thy breasts, O blessed one, that is, thy tenderness, with which 475Cthou sucklest the wretched, while thou obtainest mercy for them; thou sucklest the wretched and art thyself suckled by that same mercy, from her thou receivest what thou pourest back. Thou hast merited the prerogative of a singular grace, because thou art privileged above women, so that thou hast nourished, not with the milk of women, but with virginal milk, and not a mere man, but God. Whence how singular is this, because she was seen to have neither a first like her nor one to follow. Deservedly therefore art thou judged able to do as much as the holy angels and the souls of the saints, and art compared to both. To thee therefore, mother of mercy, mother of the wretched, the exiled sons of Eve cry out, the very miseries cry out. For misery has a cry, and this valley has tears: for it is a valley of tears, so much so that, if the wretched themselves cry not out, these things sound not in 475Dthine ears [non insonent; read insonent, "they do sound"]. These things cannot be silent before thee, nor lie hidden from thy hearing, in that thou hast ears for hearing miseries, and for thee to know them is to hear them. For as wherever the body shall be, there the eagles also are gathered, so wherever misery shall be, thy mercy both runs and runs to help. By God thy breasts are filled with tenderness, so that, touched by the knowledge of any misery, they may pour out the milk of mercy, nor canst thou know miseries and not come to their help. And what wonder if thou dost abound in mercy, thou who didst bear mercy itself? Christ sucked carnal breasts in thee, that through thee spiritual ones might flow for us. For when thou didst suckle mercy, from that same mercy thou didst receive breasts. And just as he took our flesh in thee, he also gave us his Holy Spirit. When God sucked material milk 476Afrom thee, spiritual milk likewise began to flow through thee to the sons of God. From that time thou wast made mother of the wretched, and didst begin to nourish the wretched with the milk of mercy. And although the mercy of God is from eternity, it began to be more ample from a point of time. And since its beginning began from thee, its bounty also took increase through thee. In thee therefore the milk of divine mercy grew together, and from thee it flowed forth to us. Thou thyself wast first filled, and from thee this abundance came down to us. Whence, because thou art made drunk with this milk, and pourest out that milk for us, and thy tenderness runs through the world, and runs to meet the wretched and comes to their help, deservedly art thou compared to fawns, and art made like to suckling kids, and to those that run alike. For they suck that milk in the divine fruition, and run to meet us; because they are both satisfied with the contemplation of God they run to meet us in charity, and come to our help 476Bby merits and by intercession. But since both the angels and the holy souls run about with solicitude concerning us, and succor us, thou art compared to both, because thou alone canst do and dost accomplish as much as both, and above both. These fawns too feed among the lilies, because they desire the salvation of those still dwelling in exile, and are refreshed by a clean life and by the fragrance and repute of a good manner of life, which is to feed among the lilies. Which assuredly they do until the day of eternal beatitude dawn, and the shadows be ended, namely the miseries of the present life.

I go to the mountain of myrrh, and the hill of frankincense (Cant. IV). [Vulg. vadam, "I will go"] The mountain of myrrh is the soul which mortifies 476Cher members that are upon the earth, fornication, uncleanness, lust, evil concupiscence, and avarice, etc. She is lofty, and deservedly to be compared to a mountain, because she treads upon and passes over earthly and lowest things, and raises herself to desire and to know the things above, seeking the things that are above, where Christ is, and relishing these, not the things that are upon the earth. She judges earthly things, and condemns all that are in this mortal life, knowing that nothing in this earthly life of dying men subsists or is lasting. She has myrrh while she mortifies in herself carnal affections, and her own will, or whatever lower thing can delight. Mountains are wont to be high and dry, but lower places moist. The devout therefore are mountains, 476Dbecause they are high through the love of the things above, and dry while they extinguish in themselves and dry up the moisture of carnal desires. These mountains the Lord visits, and he does not come to moist places, because God does not remain in damp places, but the devil. Whence every devout man strives in all ways to dry up this moisture, and to be flooded from above with spiritual water. For this he spreads out his hands to God, and his soul as earth without water, namely of carnal moisture, the soul thirsting for this grace as earth which is without moisture is wont to desire water; whence he deserves to be heard swiftly, because his spirit fails, that is, his will and appetite in earthly and carnal things. Dry therefore is the land of the good, and not having the moisture of earthly love. It is not as the land 477Aof Egypt, that is, of the world, where, the seed being cast, waters of irrigation are led in the manner of gardens. The land of Egypt is the heart, human and darksome, where he casts his seed who sows in the flesh, and plants his root in worldly things, where he easily leads the waters of carnal delight through the garden of the mind. This irrigation is ready at hand, but as much as it is at hand, so quickly does it fail and dry up. But the mountain is the devout mind, dry from the lowest delights, nay that mountainous land which the Lord God gives to his own, because it raises the good from earthly things to desire the things above, as often as it ascends to a high heart. This land awaits from above the rain of grace, and God is wont to send it from the beginning of the year even to the end thereof, from the beginning, that is, from the time of birth even to the end of life, and to pour it in with a heavenly 477Birrigation. For which waters the hearts of the good pant, because, as is read in Job, their root is opened beside the waters (Job XXIX) [Vulg. radix mea, "my root"], that is, their hidden thought and the intention of the mind is expended to receive the streams of grace and the gifts of the Spirit. These waters they thirst for, and that they may be made worthy to receive them, they dry up from the water of carnal delight, and are empty. For the obtaining of which they ascend also, by prayer and contemplation, to the waters that are above the heavens, namely to all the heavenly spirits, who praise God and are made drunk with the torrent of his pleasure. But how should the soul not draw this fountain, and receive the waters of grace, she who is opened to all the heavenly spirits, and spreads herself out in desire, and knocks upon them all with prayers? Who if at length she so enlarge and spread herself out, that as she asks grace for herself from all ad omnibus, 477Cso also she desire and demand it for every man. Shall she not deserve to be flooded with it the more largely, the more amply she is enlarged in charity and toward many? Again, when she is stretched out to all those spirits, does she not embrace each one to whom the guardianship of a man has been committed? And so when she spreads out the bosom of her heart to all the spirits that she may take spiritual gifts and draw grace, and is stretched out in turn by desire to each one, and whatever she shall have been able to obtain or to desire is granted to those same and is poured back for the salvation of those committed to them, he is deservedly heard who thus helps his own intercessors and advocates, even as he begs their help and patronage. For they themselves wish mercy for those committed to them, 477Dand rejoice with those who labor together with them concerning their salvation. Deservedly does such a soul have her advocates favorable in prayer, she who desires as much to bestow as to receive. Deservedly is that soul blessed and pleasing to God which so sows upon all waters, and casts the seed of prayer, that she does not withdraw this seed even from the land of her enemies, but intercedes for them also out of charity. Much is her root opened, which is spread out to all these spirits, and is alike enlarged to all men, which ascends to the upper waters of the spirits, and below comprehends the necessities of all men: much is it opened, when an equal intention is directed to all the spirits for all men, and she strives to obtain grace for all men equally as for herself. When therefore the root 478Aof the soul is thus opened, and is so manifoldly spread out, namely to the waters of the Holy Spirit, to the waters of the holy spirits, to the waters of the peoples (for the waters are peoples), deservedly does she please God much, much is she flooded with the water of grace, much is she enlarged in charity. She is a lofty mountain by desiring the things above, having myrrh and frankincense alike, while she mortifies in herself all worldly and vicious affections, and devoutly prays for all. Whence Christ deservedly turns aside to her, to her he comes, as being beautiful in his eyes, and pleasing and worthy of his coming. Whence he commends her, saying! Thou art all beautiful, my love, and there is no spot in thee. A woman is less beautiful if indeed she is graced with beauty of body, but is pale in countenance. But when she shall have both elegance of body 478Band ruddiness of cheeks, then she is judged more perfectly comely. So the soul, when through worthy penance she has been cleansed from sins and has destroyed the body of sin, is beautiful as it were in body. And when also through daily confession she has been cleansed from daily sins, and suffers shame for them, she is at the same time adorned as it were with the ruddiness of cheeks, so that she is deservedly called all beautiful: And there is no spot in thee of mortal sin, nor does venial sin persevere either, because she does not cease daily to wash and cleanse herself by penance and contrition. Nay, she is cleansed from venial sins the more fully, the more she is affected with great charity toward her neighbors, and strives by praying to obtain salvation for them. Again, she is all beautiful who is adorned by good works and virtues, and by humility and by the 478Cconfession of her sins (with which she had been stained) is beautified. For by judging her sins, and humbling herself for them, she is not only cleansed from sins, but also acquires the adornment of humility whereby she may also be beautified. And there is no spot in her, namely of elation. For from this she is free, while through desire she is always kindled to do greater things, and reckons small whatever she has done, while, weighing the benefits and labors of the Savior, she knows that she cannot worthily answer to them. She is therefore all beautiful and without spot, while the memory of her evils even adorns decora her, and no elation over the good things she has done stains her.

• 478D

Come from Lebanon, my bride; come from Lebanon, come (Cant. IV). Lebanon is a mountain, on which myrrh and frankincense grow. Now Lebanon is called whitening or a making white. Christ therefore calls the bride from Lebanon, when he invites her, cleansed and made white through the mortification of sins and of carnality and through the devotion of prayer, to the reward above. But that he exhorts her to come not only with a doubled voice, but even with a tripled one, insinuates the immensity of the desire and love which he has toward her, and that the threefold repetition may be an attestation of immensity and of firmness, for a threefold cord is hardly broken. Again, the multiplied repetition of the call indicates also the rejoicing with which he rejoices together at her deliverance from present misery. 479AHe hints also with how great desire he wishes this to be done the more swiftly. For a call repeated again and again expresses the affection alike of one hastening and of one rejoicing together. Therefore also he calls her so many times, that by the repeated call he may insinuate the greatness of the happiness to which she is called. And that the threefold call may indicate the enjoyment of the Trinity, which she is to receive after labor, which enjoyment is eternal beatitude. And when he calls her, he also foretells to her from what things she is to be rewarded, saying: Thou shalt be crowned from the head of Amana, from the top of Sanir and Hermon. Amana is interpreted restless or turbulent, and signifies the lovers of the world, who are restless and turbulent alike. There is restlessness of labor and weariness in seeking worldly delights, and when a man attains them, he does not find full 479Bsatiety in them. Not had, these things vex; had, they do not satisfy. For while a man desires to satisfy his desire in these things, he kindles it the more. Whence it is said that the remedies of sins are sicknesses. Because whence a man by sinning cures his desire for a time, thence he afterward sickens with a greater desire of sinning. Because therefore it has no satiety, it does not afford stillness, nor does the Spirit of God remain in a mind that seeks earthly things, who rests upon none but the humble and the still. For he is not received by a mind which has been restless through earthly desires, and he does not illumine with spiritual light her who is filled with carnal delight. For where the vessels of the heart have not been empty of carnal things, the oil of the spirit has no place to stand there. For neither does the Holy Spirit come or 479Cremain in a man when he is flesh, that is, carnal. When therefore the soul is made restless by these desires, she likewise also becomes turbulent, that is, dark and confused and estranged from the knowledge of truth. For earthly desires confound and darken the eyes of the heart, so that a man knows neither himself, nor his own blindness and misery. But the mind of the good refuses to be consoled in these delights, and therefore deserves to be delighted, and to be illumined with grace. For blessed Job condemns and curses the day of carnal delight (Job III), and turns it by his own judgment into darkness, or night, while he weighs to how great a blindness and misery it will lead. For through the night considered, which he considers to follow this day, he destroys the day itself, and makes it perish in himself, and so 479Darrives at the day of grace. Thus he turns night into day, and after the darkness of night which he condemns, he deservedly hopes for light, and receives the illumination of grace. Those therefore whom earthly delight overcomes are Amana, that is, the restless and the turbulent, and their head is the devil, who through these things holds princedom in them. While the devout soul resists his persuasions, and does not look back upon them, she triumphs over this head. But not only from the head of Amana, but also from the top of Sanir and Hermon, does Christ promise that she is to be crowned. Sanir and Hermon are mountains of Judea, in which lions and leopards dwell. These mountains signify those who stink through uncleanness, and who are separated by fault from God and from the fellowship of the good. For Sanir is interpreted stench, and Hermon anathematizing. But of those who 480Aare Sanir, some are polluted by act, others by thought, and others, consenting to some temptation or frailty, or resisting less lawfully, do not escape the fault of uncleanness. And the uncleanness of acts indeed is plain enough, nor is it needful that much be said about these. But in thought one sins mortally either by the will of sinning, or by consenting to the delight of the thought, and by delaying in the delight. For if thou consent to the delight of a thought concerning a mortal sin, even though thou be unwilling to commit the act, thou sinnest mortally, especially if thou delay long in such delight after reason has detected it, and it please thee. For if the delight itself has lasted while reason does not consent, or does not notice it, it is not called mortal. Thus sometimes a longer delay is venial, and 480Ba shorter one mortal, when it is noticed, and is not resisted, but is consented to. But if some pollution happen in the body to one awake, and a flux of seed, it is mortal, unless it happen from some natural infirmity. If therefore it happen from delight, it is mortal, even though it be not voluntary when it happens, if a mortal fault has gone before, of familiarity, of thought, of the glance and the like, from which the lingering delight through which it came about had its occasion. For because these were voluntary, and through them the lingering delight was had, the sin itself is not excused, even though it happen against the will. But if anyone, after a lingering delight, has been contrite for it, if afterward pollution happen to him, and the delight returns again, 480Cit is mortal, because in the very hour of its happening he in some degree consents to the delight, so that it happens to him. For if he does not consent, it is a venial sin, because no mortal sin happens unless it be voluntary. Either it happens from infirmity, and then it is venial, or it is no sin at all, if there has been no delight in it. For it can happen from infirmity, and yet there is some delight in it which nevertheless is venial. If also it happen to one sleeping from some fault which is mortal, it will be mortal. But if contrition intervene interveveniat, it is venial, although it has its occasion thence, because it has been abolished by contrition.

It is similar concerning the madman, and the ignorant, and the one who omits. For when a madman, set in his madness, kills or fornicates or does something mortal, although 480Dhe does not then have the sense of discerning what he does, yet he sins mortally, if he fell into that very madness by his own fault, and was in the will of sinning mortally, and thus is made guilty from the preceding fault; so for one sleeping, from preceding causes, pollution is mortal. So it is concerning the ignorant; because, although in the hour of knowing what he ought he is unwilling to be ignorant, yet he is guilty, because he earlier despised to know when he was able to know. And concerning the one who omits, when he omits what he ought, because he could have pot isset shown himself exhibui se solicitous for the doing, and so, at the time of doing, not have omitted it. Sanir therefore are those who stink, whom the devil pollutes, either in work or in thought, who is read to creep upon breast and belly. But Hermon, which is interpreted anathematizing, signifies those who are anathematized, that is, separated from God by their own 481Ainiquity, and others who for manifest sins are excluded from the society of the Church by the sentence of excommunication. And let us speak of the first, who are disjoined from God through mortal sins. Every mortal sin is committed by acting against the precepts, or against conscience. For whatever conscience should dictate to be mortal, even if it were venial, he who should do this against such a conscience would sin mortally, the Apostle saying: All that is not done of faith, that is, against conscience, is sin (Rom. XIV) [Vulg. non est ex fide, "is not of faith"], and what is done against conscience builds unto hell. The other mortal things that are done are done against the precepts.

But there are certain sins which are always mortal, such as hatred, idolatry, poisoning, sorcery, fornication and the like. But anger, impatience, 481Bsadness, avarice, gluttony, pride, vain glory, detraction, and many such things are not always mortal, unless, namely, one sin in these through grave contempt, or do something against a precept, that is, against the love of God and of the neighbor. For anger is not mortal when one is moved concerning his neighbor with the will and consent [voluntate et consensu; read sine voluntate et consensu, "without the will and consent"] of harming him in person, or in property, or in repute, because he incurs only the first motions of wrath. And therefore the sun does not go down upon his wrath (Ephes. IV) [Vulg. sol non occidat super iracundiam vestram, "let not the sun go down upon your wrath"], that is, Christ. It is the same with all the other motions short of the will and the consent to act against the love of God and of the neighbor. Through impatience one sins mortally when one so exceeds through it that the virtue of patience is utterly abandoned. Through sadness, when one is so overcome 481Cthat he in no wise consoles himself in God, but consents altogether. Through avarice, when the tenacity is so great that he does not succor his neighbor in straitened need, and holds back what ought to be given. Through gluttony, when by habit or frequently one slips into surfeit or drunkenness, and, having had experience of his own weakness in this, does not beware for himself, nor moderate himself; or when he is overcome, like Esau, through the ardor of concupiscence for food or drink. And again, sometimes in these ways: over-hastily, sumptuously, too ardently, with studied care. Through pride, or vain glory, when he sets himself before others, and puts human favor before the love of God. By detracting also, or by publishing another's sin out of envy, one then sins mortally; or 481Dwhen other things are said by which he intends to harm the person, or the repute; or when one strives to corrupt another's good standing. A venial sin also becomes mortal through contempt, as Augustine says, no sin is so far a venial sin that it does not become mortal while it pleases, if, namely, it so please that a man would commit it even if he knew it to be mortal; or a venial sin becomes mortal by occasion, because through a multitude of venial sins one comes to the committing of a mortal one. Whenever therefore one sins mortally, then it is done either against conscience, or through contempt, or against something which is commanded or forbidden. Until, therefore, the first motions go so far forward that something is done against one of these, there is no mortal sin. But when one so consents to them 482Athat he offends in one of them, then for the first time he sins mortally. But in whatever aforesaid way the perverse sin, they are anathematized, and separated from God through mortal sin. But those who have been excommunicated by name are excommunicated with the greater excommunication, and are to be shunned in prayer, at table, in greeting. For no one can pray in church while such are present, neither secretly nor openly. Innocent, however, says the contrary. He can, however, outside the church, they being present or hearing. For such also one can pray secretly, not openly, or with anyone hearing. In these things, however, we can communicate with them which pertain to their absolution and salvation. And if they should owe anything to anyone, it can be demanded back from them, and they can be sued, not sue. 482BThe perverse, therefore, are Amana, that is, the restless through love of earthly things; or Sanir, that is, those who stink through unclean life; or Hermon, that is, those anathematized through sin, or through the sentence of excommunication. But their head or top is the devil, who by tempting leads them to this, and through this bears princedom in them; and while each devout man resists his persuasion, lest he be entangled in sins, he is crowned from this head, because he triumphs. The lions also and the leopards are the demons, because now, with open iniquity, raging, they deceive some, now with flattering counsels and various frauds they seduce the upright, just as lions are fierce, and leopards are sprinkled with varied color. The dwelling of these lions or leopards are the wicked, whose perverse manners and sins, while the good 482Cdo not imitate but flee them, and sometimes convert such men to good by example and by teaching. From these mountains and dens of lions and leopards are they crowned, and are endowed with eternal rewards.

Thou art all fair, my love, and there is no spot in thee (Cant. IV). The blessed Virgin Mary was all fair, because she was sanctified in the womb. And once gone forth from the womb she never committed either a mortal or a venial sin. And before the conception of the Son of God, indeed, she was first kept from sins by grace; but after it she was so confirmed by the power of the Most High, overshadowed 482Dand strengthened, that she could not commit sin at all. From the time she was made the temple of God, she was so privileged that she could in no wise be disfigured by any spot. She was likewise all fair, because full of grace, so that there was not in her any venial sin, not even the least, to prevent grace from being able to have place in her. For when one commits some venial sin, then he does not merit, nor is grace increased in him. All fair therefore was she whom grace possessed wholly, because sin had no place in her. She had also the virtues without disturbance or the passions of the vices, and she possessed them, delighted with love of them and helped by grace. Therefore in her the virtues were perfect, and poured over into continual use, so that she savored, willed, or felt nothing other than good. Such 483Awas she in the virtues; so great also was her charity that it was extended not only to her own nation (namely the Jews), but these unknown and known, to all men at last: to all these her charity was widened, for these she was solicitous, for these she prayed unceasingly, for these she was heard in praying, the angel Gabriel saying to her: Thou hast found grace with God (Luc. I), namely, that which thou wast seeking. She desired, sought and obtained the salvation of all; nay, the salvation of all was made through her, whence she is also called the salvation of the world. All fair therefore was she, because cleansed in the womb, and thereafter confirmed in holiness and cleanness, the tinder of sin being first lulled asleep in her, so that she did not sin, and at last extinguished, so that she could not sin thereafter; she attained at last angelic purity on earth, 483Band the likeness of God in the virtues and in holiness and in perfection of manners: just, tender, prudent, modest, merciful, holy in mind and body. Rightly therefore is she proclaimed fair, who attained on earth both the divine and the angelic likeness. And because humility is the place of God's grace, so much so that one is capable of grace in the measure that he has been humble, as she possessed this virtue perfectly and wholly, so grace filled her wholly, and adorned her wholly. This then is the inward beauty of the mind. The outward beauty also was the comeliness of chastity, the whiteness of virginity. She was also wholly bright in work, having nothing dark or sinister, but all bright and perfect, so that she lay open to the gaze of others and shone by example, clothed in the gilded raiment of the virtues and surrounded with the variety of merits. 483CSuch a one did the heavenly King desire; into one so comely, so clothed, the sun of justice poured himself, and clothed himself in flesh in her. Nor is it a wonder if she was bright whom the splendor of glory filled, if she was fair who received into herself the splendor of light. Nor is it to be doubted that the fire of love and the inward whiteness shone in her outwardly also, so that she who had angelic purity had an angelic countenance also. Rightly therefore is she called all fair, because she was fair in face, fair in mind and body. She was terrible even to the princes of darkness themselves, so that they did not presume to approach her, or to tempt her. For the flame of charity frightened them off; her prayers and the fervor of her devotion burned them; they stood amazed at her, free from sins. For no one 483Dis so holy as not to have had a spot and a defect, except her. For the moon, which shines by night, and the stars are not clean in comparison with her; that is, those who shine by holiness of life as the moon or the stars are darkened, in the night of this life, in comparison with her. For the stars, that is the saints, are darkened by the mist of human fault; but the blessed Virgin was all fair, whom the sun of justice wholly enlightened and flooded, so that she had neither spot nor the darkness of fault.

Above these things she was adorned with martyrdom. For a sword pierced through her own soul, not a material one, but one of sorrow. By which martyrdom she suffered more grievously than by iron. For as incomparably as she loved, so much the more vehemently did she grieve. Whence, as there was no love like her love, so neither was there sorrow like her sorrow. In the martyrs 484Athe greatness of love softened the sorrow of the passion; but the blessed Virgin, the more she loved, the more she grieved, and by so much was her martyrdom the more grievous. Whence, because she loved more than all, and the force of her sorrow was according to the greatness of her love, she suffered more grievously in mind than the martyrs in flesh. Fair therefore was the blessed Virgin in the comeliness of virginity, fair in the praise of confession, and fairer than all the rest who have lived holily, fair in the palm of martyrdom, and without any spot. Because therefore she is so fair, and in so manifold a way comely, rightly is she called from Lebanon, that is, from a whitening. She is also said to be about to be crowned from the head of Amana, Sanir and Hermon, that is, from the prince of this world, who bears princedom over the lovers of the world, and over those separated from God through the stench of cleanness [munditiae; read immunditiae, "of uncleanness"], or through other sins. This prince of the world 484Band head of the wicked the blessed Virgin overcame, trod down, and crushed his strength, while she kept perfect cleanness in body and humility in heart, so that he could have no place of creeping either in her breast or in her mind: this strong woman, whose price is far off and from the uttermost ends, bearing him who should overcome the strong armed man that possessed his own court (that is, the world) in peace. Which blessed one, while by her merits and by her intercession she freed from their hearts those whom he had either cast down by openly raging, or, covered over, had deceived by secret and various fraud, is declared to be crowned from the dens or mountains of lions and leopards.

• 484C

Thou hast wounded my heart, my sister, my bride; thou hast wounded my heart with one of thine eyes, and with one hair of thy neck (Cant. IV). There are two sights or eyes: one by which we contemplate the things above, another by which the transitory and earthly things. That one by which the things above are seen the Savior came to open, as he himself says: Into this world I came, that they who see not may see, and they who see may become blind (Joan. IX) [Vulg. In judicium ego in hunc mundum veni, "For judgment I am come into this world"]. For the enlightening of this he came to us; he endured the opening of wounds and death, that he might open this light to us, and quicken us unto the knowledge of salvation. Whence he expresses in these words how much he loves this eye, namely the contemplation and the desire of our salvation, saying: thou hast wounded 484Dmy heart. As if he should say: O soul, thou who hast deserved to be called my sister, from the time when, by taking flesh, I made myself thy brother, and whom I chose as bride when I joined thee to myself in love and in unity of will: in that thou seest and seekest the eternal rather than the earthly with the eyes of the heart, thou dost so gladden me and become pleasing to me, that thy love wounds my heart and pierces it by its own excess. My love toward thee was strong as death. Whence I willed to die for thee, and to take upon me the hard wounds of the body for thee, that I might receive from thee the sweet things of love. That thought therefore, and fixing the eye of the heart upon the opening of them, thou openest this one alike to love and to knowledge. For love opens acquaintance, so that while thou lovest thy Savior, thou mayest understand also the salvation which he purchased with such charity and at the price of his very self, to be immense, and worthily 485Ato be sought after. Loving me therefore because I bore these things for thee, thou beginnest also to love the joy which I purchased emavi for thee and prepared. And thus through the visible things of my humanity and of my labor thou comest to the seeing and comprehending of the invisible things of things eternal; from me thou transferest thy contemplation to the seeing of me; from me having no beauty or comeliness, to my glory and majesty in the heights, where I am such that I am delightful to look upon even to the angels. Thy spiritual sight therefore, and thy salvation, is the contemplation of my love and of the enjoyment of me. For I am thy Savior, and thy salvation; and I who was thy price shall be thy reward, and the twofold vision of me is eternal beatitude. This spiritual sight, and the desire of thy salvation, I love vehemently in thee; with this one eye alone, that is, with the one and single 485Bcontemplation of thy salvation and of my love and enjoyment, thou woundest my heart, and with one hair of thy neck. The neck joins the head and the members. Thou art therefore a neck to me, while thou art zealous to convert souls and to join them to me. One hair of the neck is the single thought and the chief intention with which thou laborest about this. In this twofold solicitude and care, both of thy own salvation and of another's, thou claimest my love specially for thyself, and piercest to the inmost parts of my heart. There pleases me also, and singularly touches me, the simple eye of intention with which thou seekest nothing against me, nothing besides me. For through this thou art bright in thy whole body, that is, by good and sincere work, so that thou art worthily praised, and hast learned to wound my heart with thy love.

• 485C

How fair are thy paps, my sister, my bride; thy breasts are fairer than wine, and the odor of thy ointments above all aromatical spices (Cant. IV). The two paps are the twofold compassion, bodily and spiritual. These the soul has when she has compassion on those laboring under bodily need or under any adversity, or bestows consolation and prayer upon those set in some sin or temptation. These breasts she has when she knows how to rejoice with them that rejoice, and to weep with them that weep, to be weak with the weak, to burn with them that are scandalized. Fair are the paps of that soul which has compassion on all out of affection, and cannot pass by any man's sorrows without sorrow of heart. And well does she see spiritually, through one 485Dof her eyes, that whereby she is also moved spiritually toward her neighbors. For he who loves God embraces his neighbors also out of charity. Because he has drawn near to goodness, he has received the bowels of tenderness, so that he is moved toward others, and in charity, even as he has learned to love God. Likewise, as he has a single regard to his own salvation and to God, so likewise toward his neighbors he has one motion, namely of tenderness, not of commotion or of rancor. Rightly is the soul that has these breasts fair, and pleases the gaze of Christ, having charity which covers her own sins, and bestowing mercy upon the sins of others, that she herself may obtain mercy; of which it is read in Job: Visiting thy beauty, thou shalt not sin. Our beauty is our neighbor, in whom we look upon what we are. 486AWhen we so visit him through compassion, we do not sin, that is, we are free from sin, because through this tenderness we are cleansed from sins. The soul also becomes fully clean from sins which not only draws no sin from her neighbor through some rancor, or rash judgment and suspicion, but moreover, by having compassion, receives pardon for what she has committed. Rightly therefore is she commended who through tenderness is both cleansed from sin and at the same time adorned with merits. Whose breasts are said to be fairer than wine. In the wine we can take the rigor of justice, which pleases God greatly and adorns the soul; yet the bowels of mercy commend and adorn her more. For as oil floats upon the other liquids, and puts forward its own brightness, so mercy exalts itself above judgment, and is 486Bpreferred to it, and is the stronger; so much so that justice ought not to exercise any right, or any judgment, until mercy has more fully fulfilled her own, nor can justice work anything except in what mercy leaves over. Rightly is mercy so far pre-eminent and worthier, that she can exercise her office, if discretion be present, without fault; but justice cannot exercise her own, save with mercy mediating. Rightly therefore are the breasts in the bride proclaimed fair and commended, because by this she advances toward the likeness of God, whose property it is to have mercy and to spare, in the measure that he himself knows how to have compassion perfectly and to succor. And the odor of thy ointments above all aromatical spices. The fragrance of this sweetness, and of the spiritual unction whereby she is so kindly affected toward all, has compassion, groans, prays and 486Cdesires that succor be given, is in the nostrils of the Bridegroom above; sweet with all the virtues, she is fragrant in her works, and is known to please. For charity is the mother of all the virtues; whence not undeservedly does this virtue, which proceeds from her root, deserve to excel judgment, and to set before it the fame of a good odor. Such is the bride in heart as she is also in mouth and in work.

There follows: A honeycomb dropping are thy lips, bride; honey and milk under thy tongue, and the odor of thy garments as the odor of frankincense. A honeycomb dropping are the lips of the devout soul, because they flow with the liquor of spiritual sweetness, and pour it out to others for edification. This honeycomb the soul gathers from the various flowers of Scripture; these she searches out, upon these she sits, out of these she draws and elicits the sweetness 486Dof spiritual delight. The knowledge that puffs up she sets apart and despises; edification she rather seeks out; she chooses sweet-smelling sentences, not pompous eloquence. The examples also and the spiritual sayings of the saints she investigates and surveys with her mind, who were assuredly flowers, and flourished like the palm. As their life was holy, so sweet and pleasant were the things which they brought forth, or taught, to flowers of this kind she flies; from these she gathers spiritual honey, but chiefly from that one singular flower, that is, the flower which came forth from the rod of Jesse, the flower of the field and not of the garden. The odor ordor of this flower is as the odor of a full field, which the Lord hath blessed. Full is this field, in which dwells the fulness of the Godhead, in which are all the treasures of wisdom and of knowledge, in which the just flourish, and 487Ain which they bear fruit both in good life and in sacred knowledge. This is the flowering field, nay, full of flowers, in which there are as many flowers as there are just men bearing fruit in good, and outside which there is no flourishing, but withering. To this flowering and full field the bride flies like a prudent bee; in the odor of this flower she runs, to him she goes forth with desire, to him she clings with love and with faith, from him by the importunity of prayer she sucks the honey of grace, of his fulness she receives grace, through his spirit charity is poured abroad in her heart, and she receives the breasts of tenderness, and this grace is poured abroad in her lips, so that she may breathe out the savor of the sweetness above and give others to drink of it. Honey also and milk she has under her tongue, that is, the refreshment of the strong and the consolation of little ones, the solid food of the perfect and 487Bthe milk of tender teaching for the weak. For she has fore-tasted the sweetness of the life to come, where souls shall be refreshed by the enjoyment of Christ's divinity and by the milk of his humanity. She has tasted the foretaste of that beatitude, because she is refreshed by the streamlets of the river of honey and butter, of which it is read in Job that the hypocrite and the feigned man shall not see them (Job XX), that is, shall not understand or taste them. This twofold sweetness, like the stream of a river, gladdens the city of God above; but it visits with its streamlets the good who are still pilgrims and exiles, and gently pours in and refreshes them. Out of this abundance the soul has breasts by which she may bring forth the sweetness she has received, which savor and edify the more, in the measure that it has been given her to learn these things in experience, and to teach them from her own judgment. And the odor of her garments 487Cas the odor of frankincense. The garments of the soul are the works which are, or are done, in charity, clothed with which, and not naked, the elect are found before God. Which garments are as the odor of frankincense, because good working sends forth from itself a good odor even as devout prayer does. For if anyone break it off for the sake of a useful occupation, that occupation itself will be reckoned in place of prayer, so that, according to the Apostle, he prays without ceasing who always works well.

A garden enclosed, my sister, my bride, a garden enclosed, a fountain sealed; thy sendings-forth are a paradise of pomegranates with the fruits of apples 487D(Cant. IV). The garden is the soul, in which are cultivated the seedlings of the virtues, and the twin seedlings of spiritual studies. This garden is then digged, while in her the vices are rooted utterly out, and manners are converted. And it is then digged the more deeply, when a man is zealous to know the nature and the origins of the vices. For never will a lukewarm worker, ignorant of the nature of the vices, be able to mortify the vices well. It must be digged, therefore, with the memory of the divine passion; and those nails with which the wicked digged the hands and the feet of the Lord pierce it through, while we hold the memory of these things, and grieve together with this sorrow, and thereupon grieve for our own sins, we who recall ourselves ungrateful for so great benefits. Such sorrow therefore drives out and represses the vices, so that they cannot prevail in us or harm us, while, these things 488Abeing considered, we grieve vehemently. Which sorrow, when the love of God accompanies it, from this twofold striking compunction is generated, which, while it softens the heart, also makes the virtues to advance. This garden is enclosed with the bar of silence. For through silence she cultivates in advancement and in justice, because the cultivation of justice requires silence. In which she restrains herself not only from harmful things, but also from idle and superfluous ones, because through the least things one comes to the greater, and through idle things the mind is deceived, and is led outside itself, as Gregory says. By as many superfluous words as the mind is scattered from the strictness of its own silence, by so many streams, as it were, is it led outside itself. That therefore it may remain within itself and see itself, know itself, correct itself, it restrains and tempers itself from idle and superfluous words. Hearing also and sight she encloses, lest they draw inward 488Bwhat may disquiet or stain the mind. And upon these windows she sets bars, because through them death is wont to enter in. For she takes care lest she be overcome by curiosity of seeing or of hearing, because through the delight of these the spirit is unnerved from its strength, and one becomes the servant of sin in the measure that he is overcome by sin. For death does not always rush in through these windows violently or suddenly, but even little by little, and creeps in through a small negligence in the mind. For neglected bilge-water sinks a ship as surely as an inrushing wave. For these things, by use, heap dust upon the mind, whereby it is defiled and darkened, and little by little it is overcome by them, so that it fails from its own vigor, and at last willingly endures what it has negligently endured. So he that neglects small things falls away little by little (Eccli. XIX). The care also of outward things 488Cburns the heart, and chokes the shoots of the virtues so that they do not come forth; and the multitude of earthly thoughts, if it has broken into this garden, tramples it down like a beast.

These things therefore the devout soul shuts out, and against such things she encloses her own garden. But because this garden is called enclosed a second time, we ought to consider another enclosing of it also. For not only does she fortify and shut it from outward perils, but within she hides her own good things, and conceals them from men, knowing that when good works become known and are praised, they loosen and unnerve the mind. For it is difficult for one to be praised and venerated, and not in some measure to be delighted with his own praise, or even to glory within. It is difficult for one to reckon himself an unprofitable servant 488Dwhile by the testimony of good men he is proclaimed good; nay, it is wont to happen that, deceived by praise, he believes report rather than conscience. Who, deprived of knowledge of himself, is sometimes led, blinded, to this pride, that he believes himself to have what he has not. So while a man is called blessed, he is seduced, and the way of his steps is scattered, so that henceforth he does not strive toward what is perfect, but believes himself to have finished. But the devout soul hides her good things and shuts herself against praises, that she may not hear them, deaf to them like the asp that stops her ears lest she hear the voice of the charmers. For the soul is charmed by praises, so that she does not see her own evils, and deceitfully exalts herself for her justice. Thus, strong, she shuts and fortifies herself; but within she makes ready for grace, and opens her heart to it, as it is read in Job: My root is opened above the waters 489A(Job XXIX) [Vulg. secus aquas, "beside the waters"], that is, the intention of the heart lies open, through desire, to receive the grace of the Holy Spirit. Which she draws the more swiftly and the more fully, the more she lies open to nothing else. For her love is directed to God the more freely, the less it is hindered by the delight or the hindrance of praise. One thing she asks, and this she seeks after, that she may dwell in the house of the Lord not made by hand, but eternal; that she may see the will [Vulg. voluptatem, "the delight"] of the Lord, by the fulfilling of which she may come to it, and may visit that temple in which all its citizens declare his glory. This temple she visits by meditation and by desire. Its happiness and joy she contemplates, and by the contemplation of it she easily spurns the joy of praise, and shuts it out from the entrance of the heart. This garden then, thus enclosed, a sealed signarus fountain waters; understand therefore the fountain sealed 489Bto be the spiritual understanding, stamped with the seal of the Holy Spirit, and fortified with the teachings of Holy Scripture and with the examples of the Fathers. For what such a soul savors and feels is neither corrupted by an evil spirit, nor discordant in anything from sound doctrine, nor is it found contrary to the examples of the saints, nor is it vitiated by harmful novelty or by presumption. With this fountain the seedlings of this garden are watered, because by this knowledge the virtues and good pursuits are formed, and advance, and are made discreet. By a sober draught of this fountain a man is quickened in soul, and obtains peace of heart. For to savor according to the spirit is life and peace. Whose sendings-forth are a paradise of pomegranates with the fruits of apples. Red pomegranates signify the martyrdom which takes place in the peace 489Cof the Church, namely, whereby the vices and the sins that are bloody and red as a little worm are mortified. It is martyrdom when we mortify our members which are upon the earth, fornication, uncleanness, evil concupiscence, avarice and the other evils. Now the pomegranate contains within many and white grains. So too the soul has in herself many works of martyrdom which make her clean and white. For they are works of martyrdom, that one afflicts himself through compassion for his neighbor, that he pardons him who hurts him, that he loves his enemy, that he chastises the flesh with abstinence, with watchings or with other labors, that he labors against various temptations, that he struggles against his own will, that he strives against the pleasures of the flesh. In the affliction 489Dand labor of this he drinks the chalice of the passion, and daily takes up his cross. These are the grains of the pomegranate, which assuredly have whiteness, because they not only adorn the soul with merits, but cleanse her from the punishment owed for the sins of which she is penitent. For because they are laborious and penal, therefore they are said to blot out punishment rather than other works that are not penal. In another way also they adorn the soul, because through them charity is believed to be the more kindled, and so merit to be increased. The fruits of apples which this garden puts forth at the same time are the other works, fruitful and meritorious of eternal life, and fragrant with the odor of good example and of good repute. For it sends forth cypress, with spikenard and saffron. The seed of the cypress is said to be white as the seed of coriander, as is read of the manna. Whence rightly, through the whiteness which the manna has, 490Ait signifies the refreshment of heavenly grace. But the spikenard, with which the Lord's body was anointed, signifies the unction of the love of God in the heart, because we are so anointed that we are not overcome by the fire of tribulation. When grace refreshes and fills us, it makes us strong against adversities. Saffron, which brings coolness to the burning limbs of the sick, signifies this virtue of charity, which tempers the mind from the heat of carnal pleasures, and inflames it to desire the joys above. Her sendings-forth also are the sweet cane and cinnamon with all the trees of Lebanon, myrrh and aloes with all the chief ointments: the sweet cane, which is also called cassia, is of a stout bark, and is of a purple color, and is said to avail for curing the troubles of the bowels. And rightly, by reason of its shortness, it signifies humility: 490Bfor the humble, as though clothed in purple color, are always mindful of the Lord's passion, always ready to suffer for the Lord. This virtue is especially wont to repress the inward motions of sin, and wantonness, as it were the pains of the bowels, when, considering again that the Lord suffered for us, we acknowledge that we suffer less than we deserve. Cinnamon holds the figure of the same virtue; whence by this, that he joined cinnamon to the sweet cane, it can be understood that we ought again and again to press on to the advancement of humility, and to search out the ways of this virtue and the modes of humbling ourselves. And because through it grace is chiefly obtained, so through it perfection is chiefly attained. Now this tree is of a blackish 490Cor ashen color, signifying this, that the humble know themselves to be sinners, dust and ashes, and judge that it behooves them to do penance in embers and ashes: The sweet cane, he says, and cinnamon with all the trees of Lebanon. As the sweet cane and cinnamon show the humble gatherings of the just, so the trees of Lebanon show their lofty working; these grow in the garden of the good, while they both do great things and are always humble and little in their own eyes. Myrrh and aloes express the continence of the flesh; and the nature of these aromatical spices is such that the bodies of the dead anointed with them do not putrefy at all. But the chief ointments are those of which Paul says: Be zealous for the better gifts (I Cor. XII). Fairly also are myrrh and aloes joined with all the chief ointments, because quis 490Dwhile we restrain the flesh from wantonness, it follows that we receive the greater gifts of the Spirit. This paradise of trees she brings forth and sends forth from the root of the heart of the devout soul. A garden well tilled, namely the virtues and the shoots of spiritual studies. This is the paradise in which the soul dwells, with whose delights and pleasantness she is delighted. This paradise she possesses on earth, being about to pass from it to the heavenly one. The first parents had an earthly terestrem paradise, being about to have the heavenly one after it if they had kept the commandment. But instead of the food of the trees of paradise they earned thorns and thistles through disobedience. She, the thorns of the vices being plucked out, receives the fruits of the Spirit, and a paradise of virtues: this paradise is justice, peace and joy, delight in the Holy Spirit, a taste of the virtues and an experience 491Aof the divine goodness, a foretaste of the beatitude to come, the hope of eternal life. This paradise the garden of the devout soul sends forth, and out of this garden she is sent forth to the enclosed garden of the heavenly city Jerusalem. Whose bars of the gates have been strengthened, all misery shut out, and all happiness and everlasting beatitude shut in.

Fountain nortorum of gardens, well of living waters, which flow with a rush from Lebanon (Cant. IV). The fountain is the devout soul which wells up and flows, and always rises new, because she is always renewed in God. For she meditates, or works good, or is borne by desire toward the things ahead. This fountain does not cease to boil up, and to break forth into the 491Blove of God, to grow up exerescere toward its own, and to widen out into the love of the neighbor. For she does not grow old through sluggishness, but always grows most perfectly and to the full, and out of the fullness in which she abounds she visits and waters those lower and weaker than herself. These are gardens, and they are enclosed so long as they keep themselves from sins, and cultivate and exercise themselves in virtues and good works. Toward these, set as it were nearby and joined by spiritual kinship, she flows out; and those who go astray, these she pours herself into, these she corrects, these she makes fat, these she consoles. And those who for the most part tremble with faint-heartedness while they perceive less of the advance of grace, while they are less raised up by the help of preaching or of consolation: such the devout and perfect soul visits, because she lifts them now by consolation, now by the help of prayer, now by teaching 491Cor admonition. For she is a well of living waters, having attained, that is, the deep grace and knowledge of the Holy Spirit, because she both abounds in herself so that she can pour out again upon others. Not so that well from which the Samaritan woman drew water, of which he who drinks thirsts again. The water of that well is the delight of sin, which, when a man drinks it, does not so much satisfy him as provoke in him a thirst for sinning. In short, while he desires to settle his thirst, another thirst grows. But this well holds living water, which may quench the thirst of sin and leap up into life everlasting, because this satisfies spiritually and leads through to an eternal satiety. That well is deep, because things desired are obtained with difficulty; but the depth of this one makes no difficulty of drawing, but 491Dease. For the more deeply and the more fully she receives grace, the more she has it at hand. For depth is a founding, and a perfection by which she has the good even in her affection in such a way that she loves it for the sake of the good itself, and takes delight in the good itself, and does good not only for the sake of reward, but confesses to God because he is good. This is Isaac's third well, which he called Breadth, because the Lord had spread him wide upon the earth; for a man is spread wide upon the earth when he has come to the perfection of grace and, servile and initial fear being passed, has climbed up to filial love. A man digs the first well when he casts earth (that is, earthly sins) out of himself through fear of punishment. The second, when not only by fear but also by love of the good he guards against sins. The third, 492Awhen out of love alone he both forsakes evil and does good. And in the digging of the two wells he endures the slanders and the enmities of the shepherds of Gerar, that is, of the demons who see our sojourning. For Gerar is interpreted incolatus visio, the seeing of a sojourning. These shepherds feed and nourish the carnal motions in us, seeing us to be sojourners and newcomers upon the earth, and striving to deprive us of our fatherland. But when we have come to perfect charity and spiritual fervor, and are led to every good out of love, then strife ceases in us, and the assault of the demons, because they have no strength to contend with us, but ipse they are weakened in the fight and unnerved by spiritual fervor and by love of the good. Then the soul is so spread wide in charity and grace, and is so enriched with its fullness, that out of herself 492Bshe pours into others also. And as it is written: Out of his belly shall flow living waters (Joan. VII). This grace of the Holy Spirit is compared to living waters, because, while it fills, it here quickens the soul and leads it through to the life to come. But these waters flow with a rush from Lebanon. Lebanon, which is interpreted whitening, signifies Christ, who is white, because he is without all sin, and who shines in the heavens with such whiteness and comeliness that the contemplation of him is the joy of the angels as much as of the saints. For he is the brightness of eternal light and the unspotted mirror of the majesty of God. He is white also, and is the light that enlightens every man coming into this world. And so copiously is that light poured abroad that it rises even upon the ungrateful, and shines in darknesses which by no means comprehend it. It flows around the evil, however, 492Cbut does not flow into them, because it does not reach through to their hearts. For they have shut themselves up and have condemned their own entrance with the bars of sins, lest the light of the divine gifts penetrate to them; but the good it illumines and flows into, because, fortifying the lodging of the heart against the defilements of sins and being zealous for cleanness, they prepare themselves to receive grace. In these it dwells, these it fills, refreshes and makes drunk; these holy ones, the dwelling-place and city of God, the rush of this river gladdens. Again, there are waters which flow with a rush from Lebanon, that is, from Christ, into the devout and the humble. Lebanon is a mountain from which flow the waters of Jordan, which is interpreted descensus eorum, their descent. That mountain is Christ, from whom grace descends to the hearts of those who are valleys, that 492Dis, the humble, who love abjection and who take and seek grace with a single and simple desire. Such men lie open in no way to carnal or worldly desires, nor do they strain after human favors: therefore they receive these streams of grace as copiously as they zealously shut themselves up against all outward allurements. And so with a rush the waters of grace flow from Christ to cleanness of heart, to burning desire, to the valley of humility. From Lebanon, that is from Christ, living waters flowed down when the Holy Spirit flowed into the disciples like a torrent and made them drunk with the sweet abundance of his gifts. And again, when the same Spirit filled the round world. Whence these waters are deservedly said to flow from Christ, because from him the time of grace began; from Lebanon these waters flowed with a rush 493Awhen, Christ at the supper blessing the bread, the sacrament of the Eucharist began to be celebrated, and, his one passible presence being taken away, he remained with us in many places until the consummation of the age. Offered also once upon the cross, he is offered for us many times upon the altar. And of him who now dies no more, and over whom death shall no further have dominion, the mystery of his death and its effect unto our salvation is daily repeated; for there the death of the Lord is proclaimed. These living waters flow with a great rush. For this grace runs through the borders of Christendom, and waters the faithful and flows into them. For the faithful receive it not only when present, but they take it in remote places also, if they draw near with desire and touch with faith. By faith the woman touched him, she who came up behind, and 493Bdid not press upon him bodily. But to those who touch the form of the sacrament by faith this fruit comes through. This power goes out from him, namely, ampler grace, remission of sins, strength against sins, defense against temptations. So the faithful, in whatever places they may be, are cleansed as much as they draw near by faith, and receive this grace. These are the living waters which are drawn from the fountain of the Savior, so that they are deservedly said to flow with a rush, which fill so many and in so many ways, and are known to flow so far and so widely. Be spread wide, then, my soul, toward this fountain that flows so widely; go about all its places, that thou mayest draw much water of grace from this fountain. Nowhere dost thou approach this fountain idly, never dost thou return from 493Cit without fruit. So much wilt thou draw from this fountain as thy desire and thy faith shall have been. He required a spiritual touch of Mary and forbade the bodily one. For to touch and to see spiritually is more healthful and more meritorious, the Lord saying: Blessed are they that have not seen, and have believed (Joan. XX). Grant me therefore, Lord Jesus, fountain of goodness, who flowest with so great a rush and art spread wide in so many places, that I may run to thee by faith so far and wide, and may touch thee, so that I may fully draw thee and deeply possess thee; and thus may become a well of living waters, and may be able to pour out again upon others thee who flowest into me with a rush.

493DArise, north wind, and come, south wind; blow through my garden, and its spices shall flow (Cant. IV). [Vulg. Cant. 4:16 et fluant aromata illius, "and let its spices flow"; jussive subjunctive, where Migne prints the future indicative fluent] Though the virtues are in a man, they are sometimes pressed down by some temptation or adversity, so that they do not appear outwardly though they are held within. When, therefore, someone labors under the adversity of temptation, in his garden the north wind blows, a wind, namely, icy and dry. This wind binds tight the waters of grace and fetters the exercise of the virtues; whence the north wind is called aquas ligans, the binder of waters. Yet although anyone in such a state, if he bears himself well, merits no less, he is nevertheless less able to exercise himself freely or gladly in grace or in the virtues. For the waters of grace are hindered by the cold of this wind, so that they cannot run freely. For the Lord, lest a man be lifted up if he should continually enjoy this consolation, by dispensation 494Apermits him now to be troubled, now kindly consoles the same man, and works all these things for his profit. He turns this captivity as a torrent is turned in the south wind, and melts the ice of the mind with the clear weather of his grace. He bids the north wind arise, that is, withdraw, and the south wind blow, that is, that the adversity cease and the consolation of his Spirit come. He commands this wind and the sea, that is, he makes the disturbance cease, and makes a tranquillity not middling but great. For he makes the south wind, that is, the Holy Spirit, not only blow in the garden of the soul devoted to him, but also blow through this garden, that is, fully take possession of it. Then, the north wind withdrawing and the ice of the body being scattered and the Holy Spirit blowing, the waters of grace flow through the garden of the soul. The south wind was indeed blowing in this garden, 494Bbecause the soul had charity, which is poured in not otherwise than through the Holy Spirit; and although these spices flowed less, they were not held less. For no one is less in the virtues when he is possessed by temptation. For although the virtues are pressed down, yet they are not extinguished, and as often as anyone resists, so often is he crowned. And it comes about that the soul which has labored more harshly under temptation is more fully rewarded with perfection, and the adversity of the fight becomes the occasion of an ampler grace. In himself Christ permitted the enemy to rage for a time, that he might destroy him; and he likewise allows his own to be tempted, that they may overcome him, and that on that account he may reward them with a greater grace. For when the enemy is conquered, his strength is unnerved, and the victors are spiritually strengthened and endowed 494Cwith grace. Then the south wind, that is, the Holy Spirit, blows through the garden of the soul, because he blows perfectly in it and endows the soul with perfection. Then the spices of the virtues flow with such abundance indeed that a man reckons any adversities to be prosperity, and turns outward losses into the gain of the soul. Then patience becomes glad, charity kind, humility devout, obedience ready. The enemy is loved not so much by the leading of reason as by the affection of the mind. The carnal motions of the heart are weakened, because the spiritual ones are strengthened. The soul has taste according to the spirit and is moved; she is affected with spiritual sweetness, she is kindled with zeal and with love of every good and with charity for the salvation of the brethren. In short, she has the virtues not so much in desire as in effect. Then the spices of the virtues so flow that she embraces all men with the bowels of tenderness, 494Dand both corrects others by example and scatters abroad from herself the odor of a good report. The south wind so blew through the garden of a certain monk that these spices flowed from it, whose manners and manner of life I have thought should be inserted here. For he was truly meek and humble in heart, so reckoning himself within, by his own judgment, vile and nothing, as outwardly he humbled himself for God's sake. For he judged himself a man ever of no usefulness to be fed in the house of God. And although he flourished in the other virtues, he nevertheless obtained the grace of gentleness in a special way. Therefore he showed himself lovable and affable to all. So circumcised was his mouth that scarcely ever was there heard from his mouth the sound of detraction. a word of scurrility, speech of vainglory, the voice of envy; he was not caught judging others, or consenting 495Ato those who judged. Not only would he have guarded against speaking empty things; nay rather, whoever spoke such things feared him. Set among those who laughed, lest he become burdensome, he showed himself cheerful, but he did not admit an entire laugh. If ever he was called to counsel for the sake of some business, he persevered sad and clouded, until he was restored to the fellowship of the brethren. Very rarely was he found to have been absent from the solemn vigils, very rarely from the hours of those chanting in choir. In the refectory using none but the common foods, if anything were by chance set before him beyond the usual he did not take it; scarcely ever, save when obedience compelled, did he enter the infirmary, and scarcely, when he had entered, could he be kept there. If anyone was struck by the multitude or the greatness of temptations, he heard from his mouth both the root of the temptation and the remedy of its healing. 495BFor he so ran through all the corners of the conscience of the one who was sick that he who was confessing could believe that he had seen all things, had been present at all. He was of such charity, and had so put on the bowels of tenderness, that he excused all, interceded for all, they for whom he spoke not knowing of it, and was no accepter of persons but of necessities. In short, the foot which he had set on the paths of the Lord Jesus he did not draw back until he had finished the course of the journey. Whence the south wind, that is, the Holy Spirit, had blown through such a garden and had taken possession of the whole of it, so that no place in it lay open to vice or to carnality, but its spices flowed and ran back to others also.

• 495C

Let my beloved come into his garden, that he may eat the fruits of his apples (Cant. V). The bride, advancing in the virtues and her conscience more fully made calm, yet glorying for this not in herself but in the Lord, prays that the Bridegroom come, although he rejoices over the fruit of the virtues acquired acquisitio by her. For she knows that he rejoices together at our advance, and that the fruit of salvation delightfully refreshes him. He remains, however, in the devout soul: for without him she could not be devout, nor bear fruit unless he remained in her; but he is said to come into the soul when he increases grace and rejoices with her at her advance. For daily he comes into the devout, because he renews them and heaps up grace in them. And so she says: Let 495Dthe beloved come, etc. As if she said: Not by the boldness of presumption, but trusting in a good conscience and in faith not feigned, I have applied myself to cleansing my heart and to preparing it more fully for thy coming. Gladden me with thy visitation, refresh me after labor, take delight and be fed with the fruit of my labor. Whence she calls the beloved her own in a singular way, and the more confidently indeed the more perfectly, adorned with virtues, she has prepared for him a more pleasing dwelling. Whom also she asks to come into his own garden, and to receive his own fruit. For the fruit is his, the garden is his; he is the gardener, hedging it about with his keeping and giving it increase; because neither he that plants nor he that waters is anything, but God who gives the increase. Therefore she attributes not to herself but to God the fact that she advances, not to her own strength or industry, but to the divine tenderness: 496Afor she knows that without him she can do nothing, and that unless he keeps this garden, watch would be kept over its keeping in vain. For if the divine keeping ceased, the wall would be destroyed and it would be given over to plundering, nor would the plantings advance. And so she invites him to the eating of his apples. The apples are the works of the virtues, which have refreshment and odor. For they refresh the mind, and send forth from themselves to others the odor of good example. The beloved eats these apples when he is fed with those works, and is delighted as much with their advance as with ours. Drawn therefore by the bride's desire, and delighted by the beauty of her virtues and the cleanness of her heart, the Bridegroom shows forth his presence, saying: Come into my garden, my sister, my bride. And that same cleanness 496Band perfection which he found, nay rather which he himself worked in her, he enumerates, saying: I have reaped my myrrh with my spices. I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey, I have drunk my wine with my milk (Cant. V). O my sister, because thou art the bride and joined to me in love, I have found in thee my garden enclosed and well tilled, that I may eat in thee and refresh thee after thy labor. Thou hast borne the affliction of penance, the fight, temptation, the labor of the correction of manners, and thou hast come to the harvest of the perfection of the virtues, from a laborious life to the more tranquil state of contemplation. And so I have reaped in thee myrrh with spices, because together with the bitterness of labors the spices of the virtues 496Cwere compounded and perfected in thee, and with the commandments kept wisdom advanced. For when carnality and one's own will have been mortified, then the spices of the virtues flow, and through the consummation and the triumph of this labor one comes to the cultivation of perfection. But Christ reaps the myrrh when he perfects in the soul the labors set forth above, by which she reaches through to the virtues and to perfection, and gently strengthens her so that she does with delight what before she shuddered at, as it is read in Job: The things which before my soul would not touch, now, for anguish, are my food (Job VI). So the apostles grew strong out of weakness; so Paul could do all things in him who strengthened him (Philip. IV).

There follows: I have eaten the honeycomb with my honey, I have drunk my wine with my milk. The honeycomb is the sweetness of good 496Dmerits which the devout soul has within; the honey is the work which she shows forth outwardly, which is deservedly compared to honey, because sweet is that which is repaid for it in the time to come. Christ eats the honeycomb when he is fed with the sweetness of good manners, when for him whose place is made in peace a place is prepared by manners amended and made peaceful. He is refreshed with honey when someone does good works, when to him whose delights it is to be with the sons of men, who stands at the door and knocks, it is opened. For it is opened to him when through works charity advances, grace is increased and preserved. Therefore by working more we open to him more, that he may enter to us and sup with us. Happy the banquet, and blessed the soul with which and in which Christ feasts. Christ also drinks wine and milk in the soul when at her twofold 497Acontemplation, namely of his divinity and of his glorified humanity (which are designated by the wine and the milk), he rejoices and takes delight. Hence we can also fit the food and the drink to the soul, and expound these things from her own person. For she herself eats the honeycomb when, adorned with good manners, she is delightfully refreshed by their sweetness. For those who are sweet in manners have great sweetness and tranquillity of mind, as on the contrary there is no peace for the wicked and the insolent. Again, while they so keep themselves from sins that conscience bites them in nothing, they always feast, they always enjoy security, as it is written: A secure mind is like a continual banquet (Prov. XV). Then the soul eats honey when she is delighted with good work, when she eats the labors of her own hands, 497Bwhen from that which she works outwardly she is fed within by the hope of reward, when what she does for the sake of the delight above becomes sweet to her, and the days of labor seem few to her before the greatness of that happiness. For she sighs to see God, whose sweetness, unless she had tasted it in part, she would by no means desire. Whence there follows:

I have drunk my wine with my milk. Then the soul drinks wine when she perceives the savor of his divinity, and is so made drunk with this cup that she gives over all earthly things to forgetfulness and cleaves through love to the things above. She receives milk when she thinks upon the humanity of Christ glorified in heaven. By this contemplation she is refreshed, and in this hope and remembrance she grows cheerful and is consoled. This is the twofold happiness, of angels as much as of men, in that life: the enjoyment, namely, of the divinity and the contemplation 497Cof the humanity. Which happiness the devout soul experiences in part in this life, but will comprehend perfectly in the life to come, when she shall see God as he is, and shall contemplate him face to face. But first the honeycomb and the honey are eaten, and afterward the wine and the milk are drunk, because it is necessary that amended manners and worthy work go before, sooner than the grace of contemplation be granted. Leah is put under first, before one comes to the embraces of Rachel. And so one must labor, and the eyes of the heart must be cleansed that God may be seen. For God is promised to be seen to cleanness of heart, as it is written Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God (Matth. V). That thou mayest therefore see God, cleanse the eye of thy heart; otherwise thou mayest see the world for thyself in place of 497DGod or of an angel of light, and receive an angel of darkness, and mayest not drink the wine of God and sweet honey, but the gall of dragons be thy wine, and the incurable venom of asps. For the sight of one who is going blind is often deceived, so that the worse he sees, the more he seems to himself to see; and when one thing appears to his eyes, he believes rather that he sees two. So certain men, when they see certain vain things and divine, lies, they see deceitful visions, because they believe every spirit, and have less cleansed the eyes of the heart for seeing spiritual things, and for discerning.

Eat, friends, and be made drunk, dearest ones (Cant. V). [Vulg. Cant. 5:1 Comedite, amici, et bibite, et inebriamini, carissimi, "Eat, friends, and drink, and be made drunk"; Migne's setting lacks et bibite, "and drink"] The good eat while they receive spiritual consolation, 498Awhile they are fed with the love of Christ, while they are enlightened in faith, while they are consoled in hope, while they are kindled with charity, while they are delighted with justice, truth, chastity and the other virtues. For every virtue feeds the mind while it refreshes it with its own delight. The food of the good is also Scripture, while it is rubbed, while it is chewed, because there lie hidden in it spiritual senses which instruct the mind and feed it. But in this Scripture the evil receive not food but disease, nor do they take from it edification but inflation. For they weigh out the argument [Vulg. Isai. 55:2 argentum, "silver"] of it not in bread, and their labor not in fullness (Isai. LV). But the good have in it as many fercula, as many refreshments, as they have spiritual meanings. The good hunger for it; through it they escape dangers, as it is written: In famine 498Bhe shall deliver thee from death, and in war from the hand of the sword (Job. V). For while they hunger for the word of God and refresh themselves with it, they are delivered from the death of sin and are fortified in the war of temptation, so that, strengthened and instructed by its food, they are neither cast down nor led astray. But the good are wont now to be cherished with consolations, now to be filled with bitternesses, now to abound in grace, now to labor under listlessness. But they have been taught from Scripture that temptation is a testing, and they are wont to ascribe the very burden of listlessness to temptation, when, namely, the flesh struggles against the spirit and wishes to be made equal to the heart, or even to be preferred. They know too that sadness itself is sometimes of more profit to thee than for thee to be without it: For the Lord is near to those who are troubled in heart, says the Psalmist: And the humble of spirit he will save (Psal. XXXIII). The tribulation 498Cwhich they suffer makes the Lord a neighbor to the good, and the very failing through which they are the more humbled. Sometimes the Lord so forsakes his own that he as it were slays them, and they grieve that all the things they seemed before to have are extinguished; but while they are thus slain they hope, as it is read in Job: Although he should slay me, I will hope in him (Job. XIII). They hope while they are thus slain, and they live, because the little fire of charity preserves them, by which, thus destroyed and laid low, they keep their intention of living rightly for God and of in no way sinning mortally. And so while the good tell tales, the Lord is near to them; while they are slain, they hope. But if he should laugh toward them, they do not believe him, as Job likewise speaks concerning God: If ever I laughed toward them, they did not believe me (Job XX). [Vulg. Job 29:24 non credebant, "they did not believe"; Migne's setting adds the object mihi, "me"] And so 498Dthe good do not quickly or rashly believe God when he laughs, because God knows both how to furnish the consolation of grace, and yet is wont to condemn those who are lifted up over their own good, and are ungrateful, and neglect the commandments. The good know indeed how to be consoled in adversity, they know how to be humbled in prosperity, they know how to be filled and to hunger, to abound and to suffer want. He who has been just will sometimes not lift up his head, filled with affliction and misery. The wicked, to whom in the time to come there shall be woe, are here sometimes refreshed even with inmost gifts: The enemies of the Lord, he says, have lied to him, and he fed them with the fat of wheat, and filled them with honey out of the rock (Psal. L). They are therefore called enemies, and yet they are filled not so much from the wheat, whereby [qua; read quam, "as"] from the fat of the wheat, receiving even mystical and inward things. And indeed God does what belongs to love, what belongs to friendship, 499Aeven to the unworthy. But he who receives grace from him and does not in turn show himself a friend by answering to the grace and by working worthily from it, makes himself an enemy, and turns it to the heaping up of his own damnation. And so grace refreshes the good; it refreshes the reprobate also. A man has food also from nature herself, because a more cheerful man feeds with the food of sweetness. He has it also from accidental causes: for prosperous things refresh while they turn out well. That food is not the spiritual food with which Christ refreshes. And yet for the most part it is the food of the imperfect, and the herb of the weak. And often this herb usefully feeds the weak, as Paul says: He that is weak, let him eat herbs (Rom. XIV). For it lightens and in part cures the disease of listlessness which the mind suffers from the want of grace. O how frequently the imperfect and those ignorant of grace 499Bare moved by carnal joy or by natural briskness, and think themselves moved by spiritual consolation! For often a man feels something from the enemy or from his own heart, and believes this to be from the Holy Spirit. And what wonder if the enemy mingle himself in devotion and speak false things, who spoke even in the prophets themselves. Who also sometimes said from their own spirit what they believed themselves to say from the Holy Spirit. A man ought not therefore to follow the suggestion or the experience of his own heart, since he knows that in matters of this kind certain prophets were sometimes deceived. Nor is it only in the state of sin that these dangers must be guarded against, but also in grace itself it must be prudently attended to what is to be done. Drink wine with wisdom, says Solomon, 499Csignifying grace by the wine (Eccli. IX). And again it is written egitur: That the Holy Spirit will withdraw himself from thoughts that are without understanding (Sap. I). God therefore grants grace, but the use of it lies under man's charge, because one man works through it more usefully and more healthfully than another. He ought therefore to consider the manner of the grace by which he is affected.

For the Holy Spirit is called single and manifold, because, though he is one, he nevertheless visits and affects minds in diverse ways. The soul therefore ought to hear what and how the Lord God speaks in her. And when he speaks, in the midst of the hearing he must be asked to lead her as she hears, and to teach how the meditations are to be directed. For then spiritual meditations offer themselves, so that the mind sits as it were a king, with an army of them standing round about it. And so it must rule these 499Dand discern which it should chiefly admit, in which it should exercise itself more, how long it should cleave to each one, when it should pass over from that one to this. For every meditation is a ferculum, because it feeds the mind; but that devotion itself may be kindled and that thou mayest feast the longer, when thou hast been refreshed with this ferculum and its savor has begun to cease, thou usefully takest another. Turn thyself therefore to another meditation which shall have offered itself more nearly, and which thou shalt know to be like the preceding one and not different from it. For although all spiritual meditations are useful, such nevertheless is their manner that they build up in a diverse, nay sometimes even in a contrary way, and now those, now these suit better and have savor for the mind. A mind affected thus these build up, and a mind affected thus others build up. But the consolation of the heart and spiritual 500Arefreshment is indeed the gift of God, yet thou must cooperate with this gift and be prudently exercised in it. For God is the author and bestower of this refreshment; but man is the servant and the cook, so that he can prepare it for himself either well or badly. But when anyone has fixed his contemplation upon God himself, he will have less need of this alternation of thoughts, but will cleave to the highest good as long as it is given. For then Wisdom herself is the servant and the cook, and makes a rich banquet, since she offers herself for food. For there is no need of human labor or of preparation when the divinity brings in the fercula and herself serves the refreshment. God therefore feeds his friends with food, as has been said. But the dearest ones he more fully refreshes and gives to drink, nay with a more abundant grace he even makes them drunk; concerning which food some things 500Bhave been said. But of that drunkenness I am afraid to speak, because it has not been given me to speak of it out of my own judgment. For the soul which at the marriage of the Lamb is a wife, or a daughter, knows how to be made drunk with spiritual wine, she who at this banquet sits beside the sides of Christ, or about the table, as it is written: Thy wife as a fruitful vine on the sides of thy house, thy children as young olive plants round about thy table (Psal. CXXVII). But I, after the manner of a poor man, am set apart not only from the table but even from the banquet; yet would that before the doors I might receive of that pleasant wine in my little cup. For I know that I am not fully cleansed from the filth of sin, and for this I shall not be admitted to the table of the sons and to their drink, nor draw near. I leave therefore the discoursing about this wine and this drunkenness 500Cto those who have experience of it. But knowing my own folly and weakness, and attending also to the sores of many, I wish to lie (that is, to humble myself) before the door of the rich Christ, and to beg not only drink but food also from the table of my lords, or of my ladies, that is, of devout souls. For although the wife and the sons or the daughters feast splendidly, yet those who are lower and poorer shall eat and be refreshed from the leftovers of the table. I am unwilling therefore to blush to beg the nourishment of life from such, lest after this life I beg in vain with the foolish virgins. There those who beg suffer a repulse; but here, he that asks receives. And because it is given more willingly and more abundantly to acquaintances and to friends, I wish to show myself a friend of the good and to love their good. He who loves in another a good which 500Dhe himself does not have, Scripture says, it is imputed to him as though he had it. Whatever good therefore there shall be in any, I wish to love it, and to pray for the good that they may advance in the good, that they may be kept from evil and come through to life eternal. So do I wish to associate and to place myself with the good, that I may make myself a partner and a sharer in their merits also. I contemplate also that banquet of fat things full of marrow and of wine purified from the lees, that is, of souls carried over to the things above and purged from all the dregs of sin, and feasting at the table of Christ in his kingdom. There the elect are filled with the fat of wheat, that is, with the divinity of Christ; from this table I desire that crumbs be let fall to me by which I may deserve to be refreshed. And I find a reason why I should receive mercy from that table. For I rejoice together at the happiness of the blessed, 501Aand give thanks that from the miseries of the world they have come through to the enjoyment of God. When therefore I intercede for those who fight and exult for those who triumph, I trust to be helped by the prayers of both as much as to be enriched by their merits. In short I think upon, and gather into one, all the good things of my Lord, namely the merits of Christ and of his members, whether of those reigning with him or of those still pilgrims on the earth; then the sacrament of the Eucharist, and also the other sacraments of the Church, various indulgences and many relaxations; and finally the mercies of the Lord bestowed in manifold ways in diverse places. When by thinking and by loving I turn all these things over, and implore them as much for myself as for many, I trust that in so general a comprehension and desire I am for a great part lifted out of my want, nay even enriched. 501BWhence now I desire to impart of the goods acquired to others who are in need. And so I consider the many who sin, and who by sinning die, some passing from the death of the flesh to eternal death. And since the heap of their misery is great, I consider on the contrary the great heap of the aforesaid goods. Then I stretch toward this by desire and by prayer, that I may set these goods against those miseries, and may implore for the miseries. To this manner of praying or of meditating I strive, and I am sweetly still, when I yet reach through to it. And so to the friends who eat, and to the dearest ones who are made drunk, I wish to be a friend, and their daily beggar.

I sleep, and my heart waketh. The natural motions of the heart are various and innumerable. Whence in manifold ways a man is made sad by his own nature, or 501Cmade glad, is troubled, or is tranquil. He ought not therefore to believe these motions or to yield to them, because according to the measure of human mutability, or of outward causes, the heart is varied, so that it be sorrowful or cheerful, and be affected thus or thus. When therefore some faint-hearted man trembles so greatly that he all but despairs, he ought to believe that this dejection is of faint-heartedness and of a troubled heart, not of despair. For he ought to be confident about his own state, provided only that he be contrite, and have the intention of turning aside from evil and of doing good (Psal. XXXVII), and of in no way committing a mortal sin. According to this purpose anyone can hope that he is called holy (that is, that he has charity), by whatever burden or temptation he be pressed down. A man ought therefore, 501Din an adverse state, to be confident even in the prayers which he is then wont to pour out, and to make for himself the assurance of hope. For confidence hinders the sadness of adversity; nay rather, he is then in a better state than he was before, provided only that he has not fallen from charity through mortal sin, because charity advances as much through adversity as through prosperity. In an adverse state, therefore, and in dejection of mind, let him learn to be confident, and in prosperity not to be led astray by a false hope, but to exult in the Lord with trembling; because, even if consolation is at hand, a man does not know whether he is worthy of love or of hatred. Nor let him attend to the motions of his own heart, or to his experience, so as to measure his state by these, lest he be deceived. Let reason hold rule over sensuality, let it pardon the motions, let it govern the thoughts, let it keep watch, nay let it anticipate the watches, because by forestalling useless 502Athoughts it will the more easily repress them. Reason therefore ought to keep watch, and to keep the night watches over the flock of its own thoughts; and when that is neglected, the mind runs into blindness, so that a man knows himself less, sees less what he is, or what he ought to be, how much he is deceived, how much he offends. If therefore it keeps watch anxiously over the flock of good thoughts, so as to nourish these and to repress the bad, the divine grace will flash more largely over him; and while it shines and blazes round about it, he will receive strength against bad thoughts, so as to lull them and make them sleep. When reason thus holds rule and keeps watch, and sleeps, the motions of sensuality and the thoughts, a man can say: I sleep, and my heart waketh. For in that part in which sensuality holds dominion, a man wakes, and he is man, because the things which he then does are of humanity. 502BBut while he practices spiritual things, he wakes in heart unto salvation, because he returns to his heart, and in heart bears care about inward and invisible things. Then sensuality sleeps, but reason wakes; bad thoughts sleep, and good ones wake; carnal desires and temptations are lulled; a spiritual gladness affects the mind, its understanding is opened, and a greater knowledge is bestowed upon it. With the eyes of the heart it contemplates that supernal joy, namely the praises and the song of the blessed spirits. This is the concert of heaven which God reveals to his own, but makes the reprobate to sleep, that is, hides it from them. And so the Bridegroom does not sleep to the concerts of heaven, because, every disturbance being lulled, he perceives it before the eyes of the heart, keeps watch for it, desires to be present at it, implores it. He prays therefore to the citizens of heaven. The citizens of heaven pray 502Cfor her; she prays to God, and she is roused by him to pray; she speaks to God, and hears God speaking, for he speaks in her peace unto his people, because he moves her and admonishes her to salvation and to the care of her neighbors. And this is what follows:

The voice of my beloved knocking: Open to me, my sister, etc. This is the voice of the beloved, that is, the inspiration which he instils in her heart, that, because he is the beloved, for love of him she may love her neighbors also and bear care of them, and study to come to their aid unto salvation. He wills, therefore, that by preaching, or by taking up governance, by admonishing or by consoling, or by praying, she prepare a way for him in others; whence, that he may kindle her the more to this, he calls her sister, that is, coheir; his love, that is, privy to his secrets; 502Dhis dove, that is, illumined by the Holy Spirit; immaculate, that is, cleansed from the filth of sins by herself. As if he said: Because I have bestowed so much upon thee, do thou also answer to my benefits, and about my members exercise the grace with which thou hast been more specially endowed. Because my head is full of dew, and my locks of the drops of the nights. As if he said: From this, that I am God, I abound in mercy and in the dew of grace; and these who cleave to me by faith are filled with the drops of sins and with blindness. For the head of Christ is God, and he himself, according as he is man, is the head of the Church, and received grace not by measure. He bewails therefore our misery, so that, because we are stained in manifold ways with sins, he may show that he mercifully wills to have mercy. For he is Hermon, that is, light exalted, from which descends 503Athe dew of grace upon mount Sion, that is, upon holy Church, so that where the offense abounds, his grace may superabound. And so he admonishes his beloved to open to him, insinuating also that he wills both to have mercy and to illumine that blindness itself, right.

The bride, having heard the voice of the beloved knocking and admonishing her to the salvation and care of her neighbors, although she loves, and is ready to obey the will of the Bridegroom, nevertheless fears to forsake the consolation of contemplation, and to be entangled again in the acts of the world. Whence she adds: I have put off my tunic, how shall I be clothed with it? I have washed my feet, how shall I defile them? (Cant. V.) The tunic is an earthly 503Bgarment, whence by the tunic earthly action can be signified. She fears therefore to be wrapped in earthly acts which she recalls that she has cast off, and to be torn away from heavenly contemplation, to descend from the highest and spiritual things and to be taken up with the lowest. Recalling too that she has washed her feet, that is, her affections, she is afraid to stain them again; these feet she had set in the courts of Jerusalem, and had made them to stand there. These she washes with living waters, that is, with compunction of heart, and afterward makes them stand by contemplation in things supernal and heavenly; and she fears not without cause to defile them, if she should draw them away from these things and send them into outward care. Nor is it a wonder if she who had fixed her feet in heavenly things fears to practice earthly ones. While therefore she trembles, while she wavers, the beloved consoles her, and visits her with ampler 503Cgrace, penetrating her heart, and illuminating it with the ampler light of grace. And this is what follows:

My beloved put his hand through the opening, and my belly swelled at his touch. [Vulg. intremuit, "trembled"] Which visitation of grace she calls the sending of the hand through the opening. For he pours in grace as through a chink, when he does not flood the whole soul, but visits with a certain measure of grace; and her whom he thus visits in part, he does not fully illuminate. The hand of the beloved can be taken as this operation and gift of grace. But the belly is the mind itself, in which thoughts are cooked, as food in the belly. The beloved also sends his hand through the opening, when through the Holy Spirit he suggests to the soul the benefits which he has bestowed on her: that he redeemed her by his own death, that he conferred on her the gifts of his grace, that he preserved those same gifts by 503Dkeeping them. For he granted her life and mercy, and his visitation kept her spirit. He granted her life by dying for her, his mercy by pouring it in; his visitation keeps her by preserving her from the fall of sin. By bringing these things back to the memory of his beloved, God makes an opening and an entrance to her heart, whereby she may be touched and kindled to love, and may tremble, and fear, if she does not answer to so great benefits according to her power. So therefore, touched and made to tremble, she pardons the more [ignoscit; read ignescit, "catches fire"] unto the love of God and of neighbor. And this is what follows:

I arose that I might open to my beloved; my hands dripped down myrrh, my fingers are full of the most approved myrrh. He rises to open to the beloved who, grace being received, is the more kindled to lay hold of it, 504Ato love more fervently, to press more studiously upon the care and salvation of his neighbors. For she who had before opened to the beloved is the more kindled toward him, and presses upon the works of charity. She then exercises herself in the love of God or in contemplation, and expends works of mercy for the profit of her neighbors, as their necessity demands and the time requires. For some she prays, others she consoles, to others she gives counsel of salvation, and she prepares to undertake rule or to exercise the office of preaching, if the time should require, while she is thus visited by grace, and strives to answer grace and to conform herself to it. She is kindled also to mortify whatever carnal thing she detects in herself. But although she has mortified sins and vices, yet from the more abundant grace received she pardons the more [ignoscit; read ignescit, "catches fire"] unto this, and finds the more that she repairs. 504BThe more illuminated, the more she knows her own defects, and, being made better, she grows the more cheap in her own eyes. She then condemns the small defects which before she tolerated, and understands that she has committed many sins both in words and in thoughts, which before she reckoned as lesser evils. While she presses upon the labor and work of this mortification, her hands drip down myrrh, because this operation is understood by the hands, and by the myrrh this mortification is signified: And her fingers are full of the most approved myrrh, because she does all things both discreetly and with a pure intention. For by the fingers this discretion is signified, by which she rightly divides what she rightly offers, that is, she makes discrete what she well intends. But by the most approved myrrh is taken the pure intention in mortifying, 504Cby which she so seeks God that she mortifies vain glory, and despises outward praises, and her eye, that is, her intention, looks always to God, namely, and to the future and true love. She is said to be full of this mortification also, because she exercises it both in mind and in body. For she chastises the body with abstinence, with vigils, and with the rest of labors, and cuts off delights and earthly pleasures, knowing that wisdom, or the grace of God, is not found in the land of those who live sweetly. But by as much as one is delighted in this sweetness, by so much the less is he lifted up in God. She restrains also sight and hearing from curiosity, which two Solomon declares insatiable, and by this represses the other senses, and holds them back from pleasure. She is not fed with sweet odors; she guards against unlawful touch. For she guards against familiarity 504Dwith women, and even freedom of speaking, because from such freedom one comes to the servitude of sin. For that common saying sometimes comes to pass, which says that through bad keeping the wolf has carried off the wool. Therefore she bridles the vice of gluttony, withdrawing from herself what delight craves, and granting what necessity requires. In want she keeps patience, in abundance temperance, knowing with the Apostle how to abound and to suffer want. There, therefore, she acquires merit where the evil heap up sin for themselves. Who in Job are said to be squalid with calamity and misery (Job XXX), because in clothing themselves pride is served, and in eating, gluttony and concupiscence. The devout soul therefore, while she takes food temperately, and withdraws from herself something that appetite requires, and pours a libation to God, merits even in eating, and offers myrrh pleasing 505Ato God; thus she shows forth mortification in the body, and fulfills this also in the mind. She resists also carnal delight, so that if she feel it, she never consents to it. She struggles also against the motions of anger and of envy, and of the other vices. When she endures reproaches, she does not answer; she is not overcome by evil, but overcomes evil in good, loving her enemies and interceding for them; she burns with so great a love of Christ that she desires to die for Christ, or for the salvation of her neighbors. And if this is not granted, she fulfills only a certain substitute for martyrdom: namely, that when something delights her more according to human nature, she the more cuts it off from herself, and severs it, and slays the appetite for it. This is deservedly judged the most approved myrrh, because with such great perfection she immolates herself to God. 505BBut the fingers of the Bridegroom are full of the most approved myrrh, when, keeping her heart with all watchfulness, she discusses innumerable thoughts and motions of the heart, and, repelling the harmful, receives the useful. Because therefore she approves the pure and reproves the impure, and with the sword of contrition cuts off and mortifies sins, while she distinguishes and accomplishes these things with perfect discretion, she is declared to have fingers full of the most approved myrrh.

I opened the bolt of my door to my beloved. But he had turned aside, and had passed by (Cant. V). The bride relates again how, that she might enjoy the beloved, she guarded against the least negligences, which could provoke his offense. 505CNamely in useless and superfluous speech, or thought, in bodily comfort, or in wandering freedom, which things can be understood by the bolt, that is, the bar. For the bar, though it be small and narrow, yet closes the breadth of the door, so that unless it be unbarred the door cannot stand open. So these least things, unless they be cut away, the beloved does not deign so to come to the soul as to enter perfectly into her, and to fill her with perfect grace. Small negligences darken the soul, and make an impediment to ampler grace. Knowing this, the bride keeps the eyes of her heart from the dust of these things, that she may be able to see the beloved through contemplation, and to receive him more fully. And so she presses the more upon the cleansing of her heart, that the beloved may enter into her more perfectly, and as through the 505Ddoor, by whom she had known herself before to have been visited less fully, and touched as through an opening. But he turns aside, and passes by, not withdrawing from her, but going apart to one side. For he is at her right hand, lest she be moved from the good begun, but not appearing to her in the face. For he is near to all that call upon him in truth (Psal. CXLIV). She desires indeed to contemplate him, and to speak with him face to face, as a man is wont with his friend. But he hides his face, remaining with her and in her, although he is felt to be less present. In this way, although he turns aside to her, he turns away from her and passes by, lest she be lifted up, and ascribe it to her own merits if she enjoys him according to her wish. When therefore she has shown herself more worthy of receiving him, he does not offer himself to her as she desires, but turns aside from her, that he may preserve her 506Ain humility, and may stir up her desire the more and fulfill it more perfectly. For when from his turning aside she has been humbled, and made more fervent, from this her merit also grows, and she becomes worthy to receive him more fully. But he is said to turn aside then, when he does not grant that his presence be felt, though he is present to her. The soul then does laboriously what before she did delightfully. In which labor she is spiritually strengthened, and while she acts manfully her heart is comforted, that she may bear strongly and patiently wait for the Lord, when he either afflicts by adversities or withdraws consolation. For the exercise of labor strengthens the mind by use, that from it she may take strength; and it shows rather that she does good things by the strength of labor than by the sweetness of consolation. And so in the time of contemplation 506Bfervor toward God is stirred up, and when this is past the work is proved and virtue exercised; or she complains that the beloved turns aside from her, because, comprehended in part, he is understood to be the more incomprehensible, as the Psalmist says: Man shall ascend to a deep heart, and God shall be exalted (Psal. LX). [Vulg. Accedet homo, "man shall come"] And Solomon: I sought wisdom, and it withdrew farther from me (Eccle. VII). [Vulg. Dixi: Sapiens efficiar, "I said, I shall be made wise"] For by as much as a man ascends to God, by so much does he find him lofty and incomprehensible. Whence Job: He shall not be searched out when his voice shall have been heard (Job XXXVII). She pleads too that he has turned aside, because the mind hungers for and desires what it has tasted, and by as much as it perceives his sweetness, by so much the less does what it grasps of him suffice it. The knowledge of his goodness shows that what she received is scanty, stirs up complaint, kindles her 506Cto love more, and humbles her the more after she is kindled. And because she does not have him according to her wish, she pleads that he has turned aside and passed by. For she melts wholly in the love of him whose inspiration she has received. And this is what follows:

My soul melted, when the beloved spoke. When the beloved speaks in the mind, hard things are softened emoliescunt, and the things which before seemed hard because of earthly pleasures, when the soul is melted and so warmed, grow soft and become delightful, according to that which is written: The things which before my soul would not touch, now, for anguish, are my food (Job VI); bitter things then become sweet, because she is so melted by love that she little feels whatever tortures the body. She is dissolved into tears 506Dfor the greatness of love, and her tears become her bread day and night, so long as it is not granted her to contemplate her God. Whence again she complains, saying: I sought, and I found him not; I called, and he did not answer me. She does not find him whom she sought according to her wish, nor does he answer her as to all the things which she asks or desires, so as to hear as he is asked, or to reveal to her that he has heard; but he does not hear him according to his will, yet sometimes he hears better, unto profit. And when he is thought not to have heard, he hears better, because he grants what he knows to be more expedient. Paul, asking that the sting of his flesh be taken from him, God heard better when he did not take it away (I Cor. XII), because if he had taken it away, he would not have been saved. And so, when he is thought not to answer, he answers better; nay rather, 507Ahe himself forms in the soul the words and desires to which he may answer. For he himself asks, that is, he makes her ask, and he answers, while he grants the things that are expedient. Sometimes she desires that it be answered her how many iniquities and sins she has, that her crimes and offenses be shown to her. In which he answers her well, when to her contrite he remits all the things which she neither recalls nor ever specially set forth. For hidden dangers also, or necessities, she passes over into him by faith and love, and asks him who sees all things that he himself may see these things for her, and come to her aid. For she knows that her necessities are many, which she herself does not see nor know, and that many dangers lie hid from her, which she fears the less the less she knows them; and therefore it comes about that she is more specially committed to him, that by coming to her aid he may answer her where he himself 507Bknows her necessities. Which answer she merits, bountiful according to the measure of her faith and love. In this also he answers her, that no voice of her prayer or desire is without merit, because it is made out of charity. If also she should ask something that is not expedient, in this he answers her, that he does not grant it, and that the pious intention itself of the petition will not lack its reward. And so, when she finds that the beloved does not answer her according to her wish, she seeks consolation and instruction in Scripture, and finds it. Whence follows:

The watchmen who went about the city found me. [Vulg. custodes qui circumeunt, "the keepers who go about"] While the bride is thus made anxious by the love of the beloved and by the intent of seeking, the keepers found her, who went about the city, that is, the preachers, who run about preaching to this end, that they may fortify and defend the Church from false doctrine 507Cand from sins. While she seeks their doctrine, and questions them concerning her salvation and advancement, they meet her, and find her, and instruct and kindle her to love God more. And this is what follows:

They struck me, and wounded me. For they strike her who loves with the sharp arrows of the word of God, and wound her with a greater love. For these are the arrows of the Lord, which he wrought for those who burn, that is, made effectual for those who love. For they pierce those who love, but rebound from the sluggish. Which preachers are also called keepers of the walls, because they busy themselves to instruct those also who govern the Church. These also take away the cloak of the bride, because whatever they detect to be still in her from her old manner of life, 507Dthey withdraw through the office of preaching, and by their instruction they uncover the danger or sin which lay hid from her: Ask thy father, says Scripture, and he will declare to thee thy elders, and they will tell thee (Deut. XXXII). Which, because some neglect to do, they wander in the danger of mortal sin, clothed with whose cloak they will not have the nuptial garment of charity.

I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you announce to him that I languish with love (Cant. V). The bride sought the beloved by herself, and received also the instruction of the preachers; now she seeks the prayers of devout souls. For these are the daughters 508Aof Jerusalem, born of God, and belonging to the vision of the future peace. These she adjures, that when they have found the beloved, that is, have had him present through the grace of devotion, they may announce to him her love and desire, and offer prayers for her. The heavenly spirits indeed, and the souls of the saints reigning with Christ, she has often entreated, and through the angels in whose presence she was accustomed to pray and to sing psalms she has announced her prayers to them. For these also are daughters of Jerusalem, who unceasingly contemplate that peace. But now she asks these daughters of Jerusalem (that is, devout souls dwelling on earth). For this is the manner of the good and of those advancing, that first they seek God by themselves, and press upon the cleansing of the heart. Then that concerning their own state and hidden dangers they consult the skilled, and 508Bthat they seek the prayers of the good, and love their familiarity. For when they commit themselves to the prayers of the good, and join themselves familiarly to them in charity and humility, it is wont to come about that from the desire which they detect in them they too are kindled. For those whom they understand to seek God so ardently, they trust to know him already in great part. Whence, seeking out of affection, they say: What manner of one is thy beloved of the beloved, O most beautiful of women, what manner of one is thy beloved of the beloved, that thou hast so adjured us. The beloved of the beloved is the Son of God of the Father, and he who loves the Son loves the Father also, as he who sees the Son sees the Father also. But out of admiration of him and desire, the devout souls, thus inflamed, repeat and name the beloved, desiring also themselves to be taught 508Cby her, and to be refreshed by that sweetness of the beloved received from her. Whom they also call most beautiful, because they most surely judge that she has the beauty of the mind and is adorned with virtues. This humility too is wont to be among the good, that they think better of others than of themselves, and hear more delightfully the things which are said out of knowledge (that is, are brought forth from inward experience). Those who love, too, gladly speak of him whom they desire. For the devout, when they come together to speak of God, are wont both to be the more kindled toward God by mutual conference, and, out of the confidence which they have, to bring forth to one another what they feel or understand concerning God. God too is wont to be in the midst of them, and to heap up grace in those who for his sake are heaped together, are gathered, 508Dand speak of him. Whence the bride, the more inflamed at the question concerning the beloved, begins to express his beauty and to tell the benefits conferred on her by him, saying: My beloved is white and ruddy, chosen out of thousands. He is white, because he is the brightness of eternal light, and Light of light. White, because he is free from all sin, because he did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth. And ruddy, because in his passion he was drenched with his own blood, in which there was neither beauty nor comeliness, that he might make me comely, and that his blood might adorn the cheeks of my soul, and might reform me who was deformed. Therefore is he my beloved to me, because he suffers these things for me, and does these things also for me. Who is also chosen out of thousands, because out of the whole human race none is without 509Asin, except him. For none is like him among the lawgivers, nor among the thousands of thousands, and the ten times a hundred thousand who minister to the Lord of majesty, or stand by him. For gold or glass shall not be made equal to him, that is, the society of the supernal citizens, whose hearts both shine with brightness and are translucent with purity to one another. And this, because he is not only man, but God. Whence follows:

His head is the best gold. His head is his divinity, because the head of Christ is God. Which head is the best gold, because the goodness of the divinity excels all things that were made by it; this is the gold of the land of the living, and the gold of that land is the best. For shining, so that it cannot be seen by human eyes, and by those living in the flesh. For man shall not see God, 509Band live. Therefore then is he my beloved, because this is his head, this his chief part, this, the sublime which cannot be seen. I shall see when that life shall have appeared, because then I shall be like him, and I shall see him as he is. Who will grant me this twin happiness, because he will configure the body of my lowliness to the body of his brightness, and will conform my soul to the likeness of his divinity.

His locks are as the upraised boughs of palms, black as a raven (Cant. V). The upraised boughs of palms are the spatulae, that is, the longer branches, ever tending to lofty things. The bride has expressed what the beloved is in himself; now she begins to set forth what he is in his members. Whose 509Clocks she calls those who cleave to him in faithful service, and these she declares to be like the palm and the ravens alike. The palm below is rough, and wrapped about with tighter bark; above it is beautiful and ample, both in sight and in fruit. So the members of Christ below do hard things, and suffer adversities, and above, in the eyes of God, are beautiful and fruitful. For through the hard things of the body they purge themselves, and advance to the beauty of the soul and to spiritual sublimity. For whence they consider the supernal beauty, thence they gladly labor below. For their eyes are in their head, that is, in Christ, and in his golden head, that is, his divinity; thither they desire to reach, thither to tend, to be refreshed by his comeliness and to be irradiated by his splendor. For they sigh after that vision, after that beginning once seen, and 509Dthe days seem to them few for the greatness of love, and the tribulation light in comparison with the weight of glory. For the sufferings of this time are not worthy of the future glory of that vision. The consideration of glory and of the reward stirs up desire in them, and desire makes labors light, and carries upward. Whence therefore they consider and covet the supernal things, thence they are strengthened below; and whence they are strengthened below, thence they triumph over labors, and grow into the heights of the virtues. For the palm advances greatly by ascending on high, and holds forth victory by its own signification. The locks of the beloved are as the upraised boughs of palms, because the elect, while they ever lift themselves up to the heights of the virtues, at length through God's grace bring themselves through to victory. 510AIn the lowest things their life is wrapped about as with many barks, while it is straitened by innumerable tribulation. But in the highest it is spread out, as with leaves of beautiful greenness, by the amplitude of the reward. Who are also called black as a raven: the blackness of the good is that they reckon themselves sinners, and bear the shame of their sins in their countenance. For they choose to be looked down upon, they bear contempt with an even mind, and mean works and a sordid habit they not only do not shun, but even seek, knowing that in this humility a precious treasure lies hid. This is the blackness of the good, in which they make themselves like to ravens, that they may be made like to Christ also. For humility is the virtue of Christ, and whoever has it will have also the likeness of Christ; and by as much as he is the blacker through it, by so much will he be the more like 510Bto Christ, and the more humble in his own eyes. For the good are black, and despised in their own eyes, but beautiful and precious before God. And so, the locks of the beloved being described, she begins to describe his eyes, saying:

His eyes are as doves upon the streams of waters, which are washed with milk, and sit beside the fullest floods. The eyes of the beloved are the contemplatives, who contemplate supernal and spiritual things with the eyes of the heart. Who are as doves, because they live simply, and have a simple eye, that is, intention, so that their whole body is lightsome, that is, whatever they do or intend, they do for God's sake. They are doves also at the windows of their eyes, because they are borne toward earthly things neither by rapacity nor by love, having a dull sight in these, but in spiritual and salutary things 510Ca sharp and clear one. This is the right eye, which, lest it scandalize us and lead us into error by harmful nox a subtlety, cleaves continually to the documents of Scripture. And this is what is declared, that they are upon the streams of waters. Doves are wont to sit upon the streams of waters, that they may see the shadow of the hawk in the waters, and so, casting themselves upon the water, escape his talons. So the good see the shadows of the demons in Scripture, while they find there their every kind of deception, by which they are wont to deceive not only through open evils, but even through hidden ones. In which they see also that they mock now through the appearance of good, now through a false understanding, things which by the simple and by those less exercised in spiritual matters are believed sound and perfect. And so against every error or impurity 510Dthat the enemy might suggest, or that some erring and seduced man might affirm, the divine words must be looked into, and the things which are suggested or heard must be compared with these, that they may be received or confuted. For these are chaste words, silver tried by fire, proved from earthly things, and purged by the sevenfold Spirit. For whatever is consonant and agrees with the sacred Scripture which the Holy Spirit founded must be believed sound and whole, and whatever disagrees with it must be reckoned harmful. For that cannot be sound which in any way differs from the Holy Spirit. Streams too are wont to render the eyes of those who look into them clearer. So Scripture, looked into, makes the eyes of the heart more perspicacious, because the declaration of the words of God enlightens, and gives understanding 511Ato little ones: for he who elucidates the words of God is enlightened, and is disposed to the understanding of the words of God: for the mystical senses, while they are searched out, instruct the mind, and open the sense to understanding. These doves too are washed with milk, that is, by the sweetness of their mother, grace, they are alike cleansed from sins and kept. For through spiritual consolation delight grows bitter and cheap, and earthly and carnal cleanness too; and through this one is pricked, so that he repents of what he has committed, and commits no others. Again, these washed doves sit beside the fullest floods. These fullest floods are the perfect joys of that life, beside which they sit, because they remove themselves from earthly delight or consolation, and study to conform themselves to the knowledge and contemplation of the supernal things, and to make them 511Bnear. For they lie down between the borders, that they may see that rest, because it is good, and the land, because it is best. They choose the utmost things of this world, because they take the supports of life for sustenance, not for pleasure, so that, dwelling thus in its borders, they may in some measure touch the borders of that life also, and lay hold of something of those joys. They lie down in the borders, because although they are here in body, there they dwell in mind, as the Apostle says: Our conversation is in heaven (Philip. III). But because they use this world as though they used it not, and desire the future rest, and contemplate it in mind, they are declared to sit beside these floods. Which rest they would by no means see through contemplation, if they had not stillness of mind. Whence this sitting beside the floods 511Csignifies their stillness, for to sit belongs to one who is still. And so, set upon the streams of waters and washed with milk, they sit beside the fullest floods, because, enlightened through Scripture, and cleansed from sins and vicious affections by the operation and sweetness of grace, they have attained stillness of mind and purity of heart. Through which two they draw a sweet draught from that living fountain, and thirst for the fountain itself, saying: my soul hath thirsted after God, the living fountain; when shall I come, and appear before the face of God? (Psal. XLI.) [Vulg. fortem, "the strong living God"] But those who are still imperfect and weak are not washed with this milk; because, although they have received the sweetness of consolation from God, yet not so full a cleansing alike from sins and from vices. Whence they sit beside these floods, 511Dbecause they do not yet have this stillness of mind. Their sweet affection or joy is not perfect or pure, because it proceeds from a heart less cleansed. For there works together in them either natural lightness, or some prosperity, or a hidden temptation of sin. Such men through sweet affection are sometimes rolled down to the accustomed joy of carnality. For the fire of carnal concupiscence is still vehement in them through temptation, whence, cheerfulness being received, it is easily kindled, as though wood were applied. When their affection is directed toward God, it sometimes comes about that, from the occasion of places, the state, having been made lighter, is changed into a carnal one, so that, having begun with the spirit, they consummate in the flesh. Whence some in such a state suffer a motion of the flesh, or even a greater frailty. In these the sweet affection 512Ais turned into sin. Whence, when they feel a motion of the flesh, they ought at once to draw themselves back from this sweetness, and turn to some good. For such men bitter things are more expedient than sweet, hard than soft: namely the bitterness and grief of penance, and the labor of the fight against the pleasures of the flesh, or of their own will. For harmful delight is better cured by its contrary; and sweet things, as they delight sensuality, so also make its strength. And so through hard things and labors false delight is extinguished, and stillness of mind is acquired, that there may be a sitting beside these floods, and that the supernal things may in some measure be contemplated.

His cheeks are as garden-beds of spices planted by the perfumers 512B(Cant. V). The cheeks are the martyrs, who, pouring out their blood for the faith of Christ, blush as cheeks in the face of the Bridegroom. Deservedly beautiful, because they adorned the whole body of the Church, whose members they were. A great fire of love burned in them, which so inflamed them unto torments. Great was the sweetness within, which sweetened the most bitter death. This is charity, the love, namely, of God, the love of the highest good, strong as death, nay stronger than death. This had mortified in the martyrs the desires of the body, and therefore they prevailed to expose the body itself to death. Such men lived spiritually, not carnally. Now they themselves lived no longer, but Christ lived in them. Whence they could die for Christ, who lived in them, and whose spirit they had. These are the cheeks of the beloved, which blushed in the face of the militant 512CChurch through the penalty of martyrdom, and in the triumphant Church blush with a special comeliness through the garden-bed. Which are as garden-beds of spices, and filled with virtues, which virtues after the manner of spices have alike a sweet refreshment and an odor. For the mind which they fill they refresh delightfully, and they send forth to others the odor of good repute and of example. These garden-beds are planted by the perfumers. The perfumers are the preachers, spiritual physicians, healing the languors of souls by their instruction. These have compounded a precious pigment for the faithful. a sweet draught, namely spiritual sentences with which they have steeped us. By these perfumers are these garden-beds planted, which virtues have been described by them, and written down in books, concerning which it is added:

512DHis lips are lilies dropping the first myrrh. The lips of the beloved are the preachers, because they speak his words, and announce his will. Which lips are as lilies, because they have the whiteness of innocence, and the odor of good fame. Their doctrine is beautiful, and is fragrant, because a clean life adorns and commends it. For the example of good work strengthens their preaching, and they easily persuade who accomplish in work as they teach in word. Because therefore they do what they teach, they are white and fragrant. These are the skilled physicians, first healing themselves, and taught from the remedy of their own disease to know and to heal the diseases of others. But they drop the first myrrh, when first of all they mortify themselves, and so 513Apreach mortification to others, beginning to do, and so to teach. The first myrrh is also the penalty of martyrdom, which they drop upon the faithful, when they preach that the body is rather to be exposed to death than that one should depart from God, or commit a mortal sin. The death of Christ too is the first myrrh, which they specially preach. For he himself is the head of martyrdom, from whom martyrdom chiefly began, and through whom the faithful were strengthened to endure martyrdom. The first myrrh is the best; whence it signifies the death of Christ, which was best, because it was the redemption of the whole world. This these lips drop, that is, the preachers, and they set it before the faithful to be imitated, and always to be held in memory. This, thought upon, mitigates the goads of the flesh, extinguishes the temptations of the enemy, consoles in desperation, blots out 513Bsins, mortifies vices, strengthens the mind, confers grace. The death of Christ, his griefs and labors, are our merits, not his own. For all the things which he did or endured, he merited not for himself, but for us. Coming also in death to the tribunal of Christ, we ought to place our confidence chiefly in his merits, and, for the evils committed or the goods omitted, to set these against the accusing enemy. And so the death of Christ is the first myrrh, the best myrrh, because it mortifies all our evils, so powerful that there is nothing so unto death, and unto eternal death, which it does not loose and quicken. There follows:

His hands are turned on the lathe, golden, full of hyacinths. The hands of the beloved are the works of the good, which are turned on the lathe, because they are straight and perfect. As a lathe-turning 513Cis rolled straight and smooth, and suffers in itself nothing uneven, no obstacle; so the good work nothing reprehensible, doing nothing in which a neighbor may be offended, or scandalized, or weakened. And so the working of the good is straight and polished, because they seek heavenly things alone, not turning aside to the right or the left, but walking by the royal way. For they rule themselves, and direct themselves to that which is salutary and expedient, not to that which human cupidity seeks. They exercise themselves more where the advancement is greater, and less there where the profit is less. For many are exceedingly anxious about the least things and neglect the greater, performing works of the kind that are good, but not doing them in charity. They fortify indeed the castle of their soul with many works, 513Dbut they leave one opening for the enemy by which he may enter. Of which castle this will be the firm fortification, that a man always have the intention of not committing a mortal sin, and, if he shall have committed one, of repenting at once. And likewise the solicitude of knowing mortal sins, and of being secretly contrite for those which he is not able to know. The working of the good, therefore, is illuminated by divine wisdom. Whence these hands are called golden, because they shine through divine wisdom, and are not darkened through sin or through ignorance. They shine also before men to the glory of the heavenly Father, because they are not darkened by sins or by indiscretion, and all the things which they do are done for God's sake, and with a simple intention. Whence it is added that they are full of hyacinths, because they are done by hope and desire of heavenly things alone: for the hyacinth 514Ais a stone of an airy and green color. These hands are full of hyacinths, because all the working of the good, every intention, seeks the supernal reward, and God's good pleasure. For this cause it grows bright after the likeness of the sapphire, and is fresh in good, that it may please God, and may enjoy God. They are full of hyacinths, therefore, so that no place lies open in them for vain praise; they do not seek it, they do not ever receive it when offered, but always look to this stone, to the heavenly beauty, to that precious pearl, and for its sake reckon all things cheap and despise them. This stone too is changed with the air; so are the good, because they are changed according to the time. For now they exercise rigor, now clemency; now they amend excesses, now they dissemble them. And these things they do not through negligence, but through discretion. For all things 514Bhave their time, and those who do not observe the opportunity of the time deprive themselves of the fruit of profit. For sometimes an evil is better tolerated than reproved. And so according to the time and the manners of men they change themselves, nor by this mutability do they become unstable, but firm and stable. Because, while they are changed that they may better bring their causes through to effect, in the things which they intend to do they always prosper, and suffer no mutability of impediment. For they change the manner, but not the mind, and the same intention remains, although not the same action. There follows:

His belly is of ivory, set with sapphires. The belly of the beloved is the good married, keeping themselves chastely and using this world as though they used it not. Now the elephant is a chaste animal and of a cold nature. Whence it also 514Csignifies those who are joined, or know one another carnally, not in order to satisfy lust, but either for the sake of begetting offspring, or of avoiding incontinence. For the intention of offspring has merit; incontinence to be avoided, pardon: for matrimony excuses it; the cause of lust, damnation, because it is a mortal sin. And so married persons who serve their own pleasure are not truly the beloved's, but the possession of the devil; nor has Christ a dwelling in these, but the devil has power: as the angel taught Tobias, saying that the demon has power over those who so undertake marriage that they are at leisure for their own lust, like the horse and the mule (Tob. VI). But the belly of the Bridegroom is set with sapphires. The sapphire is a stone having the appearance of a serene 514Dsky. Whence it signifies the good married, who are steeped in heavenly disciplines, meditate on the supernal things and have a taste for them. These are set with sapphires, because amid worldly acts they do heavenly works also. For although they are divided, so that they think on the things that are of the world, how they may please their spouse, they nonetheless think on heavenly things, and how they may please their Maker. This is the setting of the sapphire, that walking in the flesh they war not according to the flesh, but their conversation is in heaven

His legs are columns of marble, which are founded upon bases of gold (Cant. V). These are they who support religious men out of their own goods, who impart temporal things to them, that they may receive spiritual things from them. For he who receives a prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive 515Athe reward of a prophet. He who supports a just man for the serving of God shall not only be a sharer of his reward, but shall have his reward together with him. These are the legs of the Bridegroom, because these are they who go about visiting the sick, and coming to those who are joined to them in the flesh; of these, not only does the door lie open to the traveler, as with Job, but they also go with Tobias to the natives, and divide to each one out of their means as they are able. Who, like columns of marble, are upright in knowledge and in work, and unbreakable by vices and sins. They are wise rightly and soundly, supplanted by no false doctrine or religion. For some teach false things under the appearance of religion. 515BDemons also suggest in the heart a false justice, and a false understanding in place of the light of truth. Certain men indeed bend the bow of Scripture, and prepare their arrows in their quiver, that with their arrows they may shoot in the dark at the upright of heart; and the things which the Lord has perfected, that is, has perfectly made, and has set forth above the teachers, they destroy and bend to their own error. Demons also work certain subtle things and certain revelations in some men. And likewise certain new and unwonted things, which the curious and the simple marvel at and venerate. The understanding of the good, therefore, is right and sound; their works are formed as the life proceeds out of the heart. They make straight steps with their feet, because they do all things with counsel, and they lay open in confession 515Cnot only their sins, but also the hidden suggestions of the heart. For he cannot err who lives with counsel, nor be deceived by the enemy who uncovers his suggestions. Again, the good are upright and unbroken, who are not bent that demons may pass over them, as it is written of the evil one: Bow down, that we may pass over (Isa. LI). Nor are they broken by injustice, so as to consent to the temptations of demons and to fall into sin. They are therefore upright and erect, because they both keep justice in themselves, and raise themselves up for the desiring of justice and set themselves against injustice. Whose firmness and constancy is compared not to any stones whatever, but to marble, because it is not cheap and common, but precious and rare. Nor is the strength of stones their strength, because they have not grown hard through insensibility, but through the rightness of zeal. 515DThese columns are founded upon bases of gold, that is, upon the faith of the prophets and of the apostles. For indeed the same faith was in the prophets and in the apostles. What those believed would come, these believed had come; what those hoped for and awaited, these beheld and possessed. Whence one of them speaks, saying: My days have been swifter than a runner; they have fled away, and have not seen good (Job IX). These bases were golden, because they shone through works. For without works faith is idle, but through works it is precious and to be compared to gold, because it is informed by charity. Upon these bases are founded these legs and columns, because the merciful and the upright are built up upon the foundation of the prophets and of the apostles, Christ Jesus himself being the chief corner stone, 516Awho joined two walls in himself, namely the Jews and the gentiles, the just and converted sinners, and has made men fellows of the angels in heaven. There follows:

His beauty is as of Lebanon. These are the virgins, having the comeliness and the likeness of Christ. For the soul which has charity has the likeness of Christ, and, advancing more fully in the correction of manners, more fully receives this likeness. When anyone has repented, straightway in the very contrition of the heart he receives the likeness on God's part, which little by little he will possess more fully, and in the future perfectly. By this likeness all the good are conformed to Christ, but more especially the virgins, who together with this likeness have the whiteness and the cleanness of life; whence it is compared to Lebanon, which signifies Christ, who is interpreted white; therefore cleanness is nearest 516Bto the author of cleanness. Whence, because the virgins obtain this special comeliness, they are well called beauty. And because they are without the stain of pollution, they are more familiarly joined to the Lamb without stain. They also follow the Lamb whithersoever he shall go. They follow specially him to whom they have specially made themselves like. To live in the flesh beyond the flesh is a heavenly life, not an earthly one. Whence, when virgins tame the sin of the flesh, which above all prevails over the human race and clings to nature, in a certain manner they are outside the flesh and are made like to God, who is Spirit. They are therefore the beauty of Christ as the beauty of Lebanon. For Lebanon is Christ, nor is he only white, but also a whitening. For he makes the elect white and comely. Lebanon also is fruitful in noble trees; so Christ brings forth noble ones, 516Cnamely those whom he had regenerated through his Spirit into liberty, that they may be sons of God and truly free, that they may not commit sin, that they may not be servants of sin. Among these trees the loftier and nobler was the blessed Virgin, who was exalted like a cedar in Lebanon, that is, in Christ, because she is not lofty through herself, but through Christ, and was made lofty and chosen by him, so that she might thus grow up and herself give increase to her own Creator. A lofty and noble tree, which brought forth this lofty fruit, namely the Son of God. Finally, she is herself the cedar which grew in Lebanon, that is, in Christ; and while she herself begot Christ, the cedar as it were produced Lebanon, and the mountain came forth out of the tree when God came forth out of man. This is the new and unheard-of thing which 516DGod did upon the earth, that a cedar should bring forth Lebanon, a tree a mountain, that a woman should compass a man, that is, God, and that him whom the world could not contain the Virgin should enclose in her womb. And so the virgins are the beauty of Christ, but the blessed Virgin is his special beauty, who never stained her beauty by any mortal or venial sin. Whence the heavenly King desired her beauty, and, taking flesh in her, adorned this beauty yet more, because he filled her with an ampler grace. And so, when the world was wrapped in darkness and deformed, he brought forth the Sun of justice, beautiful in form above the sons of men, and thus restored light for blindness, and a beautiful beauty for deformity. She therefore, singularly the beauty of Christ, beautiful above all, and most like to Christ, not only 517Ahaving herself the beauty of Christ, but also restoring it in others. And so Mary is above men, in that she never committed sin, as men do, among whom none has been found who does good and does not sin. She is also above the angels, because she surpasses them in purity, while she contemplates the divinity more clearly than they. And she not only did not commit sin, but also blotted out the sins of others; nor was she only bright in herself, but also sent forth rays of light from herself, because through her the world received the light of grace. And so Mary is the middle and the mediatrix between things divine and things human, so that she surpasses human things, while she works things so lofty through her Son. O wonderful dignity, that from a woman there should proceed a sun enlightening the world, that light should shine out from earth, that through a woman the darkness of the world 517Bshould brighten into light! Through her that sun shone out of her upon the world, and gave a brighter light, because it more fully illumined hearts. Thus the eternal light rose new out of the temporal, and spread its rays more widely. Nor was the light of grace given through her on earth only, but also the vision of God to souls in heaven. This blessed one is that great sign in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, because the sun of divinity shines in upon her, and shines round about her, and occupies her wholly, and after her, who is most of all enlightened, gives light to the citizens of heaven. She first, and above all, received the splendor of this sun. She is clothed with this sun, and is perfectly and pre-eminently flooded with the enjoyment of the divinity. And she as it were put it on, when she received so great a fullness of it. But she is clothed with this 517Csun in heaven for this reason, because on earth she had perfectly put on Christ, as the Apostle says: and she was full of grace (Luc. I). But the moon is under her feet, that is, the Church triumphant, because it is lower, and, enlightened by this sun after her, the moon suffers a waning; and therefore, because every man except her has had some waning, he can be enlightened by this sun, but not equally clothed. This blessed one has been exalted like a cedar, has been made lofty like Christ, and if as much as Christ: Christ was the least in the kingdom of heaven, that is, in the present Church; Mary was the humblest of all who have been upon earth. Therefore she was made lofty unto this, that she might conceive the highest of all, and after him become the highest of all. Well had she humbled herself with Christ, who was to be made lofty with Christ. As 517DChrist is at the right hand of the Father, so is she at the right hand of the Son. Christ is above all the works of his hands; Mary is above those same works after Christ, because she has been exalted not only above the souls of the saints, but also above the choirs of the angels. In the most humble Mary, therefore, Christ humbled himself unto the taking of flesh, and thus exalted her humbled with himself. Lofty therefore is Mary, but loftier is Christ. Whence of him there follows:

Chosen as the cedars. To the beauty, the strength, the loftiness and the fragrance of the cedars all the glory of the woods yields; so neither the highest men on earth nor the angels in heaven can be made equal to Christ. I wish therefore to consider how lofty and pre-eminent he is in himself, and how greatly he humbled himself for my sake: whence, when 518AI fear the judge, I wish to consider the brother, and the partner of my nature. For he will judge in the humanity which he mercifully took for us. Let him bear the sentence of humanity and of mercy, of a brother, and not of a judge or of justice. If I shall wish to justify myself, let him be judge, and let him condemn me; if I confess myself wretched, let him bestow mercy. I myself wish to be judge in the judge's place, that he himself may not be judge, but a brother in the judge's place; and I wish to judge myself, lest he himself judge. If I come so to the judgment, and have with me in my cause the mother of mercy, who shall deny that the judge is favorable? Mary was made the Mother of God because of mercy; and this too I believe that she exercises unceasingly for the human race before the Father and the Son, and most of all will exercise this judgment in the judgment for those to be examined. 518BShe is the gate in which Christ, the husband of the Church, will be noble, when he shall sit to judge with the senators of the earth. Then the loftiness of this cedar will appear, and how greatly he stands out above men, and how exalted he was reckoned, whose breath was in his nostrils, that is, breathed in the mouth of men. Let us therefore seek Mary, the mother of mercy and the gate of heaven, and let us hope for mercy in the gate of judgment, that through the gate of judgment we may enter unto eternal life.

His throat is most sweet, and he is wholly desirable (Cant. V). The throat of the Bridegroom is his inward savor, and spiritual consolation, which sweetly affect those who taste and have experience of them. 518CFor if by thinking thou comprehend the goodness of God, and, reaching unto the savor of him, thou wilt proclaim with the bride the sweetness of this throat. The taste also of his love is so sweet that it not only refreshes the mind, but even makes one forget the food of the body. If thou also contemplate spiritual and mystical things, whatever thou hast been able to comprehend of him thou wilt approve as sweet and delightful, so much so that thou wilt reckon all things except him but little sweet, nay none at all, and wilt judge that he alone is good, that he alone is to be embraced and loved. But if thou pass over in mind to the considering of things above, it will be sweet to meditate what it is to see God, and to be satisfied with the vision of him, that he himself is in us, and we in him, and that we are one with him, and to lack all misery, and to rejoice with him without end: the inward savor of these things 518Dis the throat of the Bridegroom. But the heart which shall perceive this sweetness must be cleansed of vicious affections, because unless the vessel of the heart be pure, it less perceives, or retains, this sweetness of the spirit, because it has thus far drawn near out of the dregs of carnality. Let it therefore refuse to be consoled save in God; let it be mindful of God, and be delighted in him, and be exercised in this delight, so that his spirit may fail, that is, his own will, and that he may despise what delights outside God. As much as he shall have despised outward delights, so much will he be able to be delighted in God. Let him cast away the delight of worldly things; let him leave the world, that is, worldly things; let him approach the solitude of the mind; let him sit solitary, and let him lift himself above himself, let him lift the body above the body, that he may transcend bodily things, and comprehend the things above and the spiritual. All that is 519Ain the world is concupiscence of the flesh, or concupiscence of the eyes, or pride of life. He who shall have despised these things, by vanquishing carnal concupiscence, by calling himself back from outward things to inward and invisible things, and by humbling himself with pride trodden underfoot, assuredly leaves the world and comes to solitude, so that he may be able to lay hold of the acquaintance and the savor of spiritual things. This is the Egypt out of which the people of God goes forth, and this is the solitude to which it ought to strive. Out of this solitude messengers are sent, and they bring back of the fruits of the land of promise. These messengers are spiritual meditations and holy desires. These are sent by the devout soul to consider this land. These, by searching out this land, enter it; they bring word of its abundance and sweetness; they carry of the fruit with them. This fruit is 519Bthe taste of that sweetness, the foretaste of that sweetness, a fruit sweet to the throat of the devout soul that tastes this fruit and experiences its sweetness. He who tastes this sees, that is, knows, how sweet is this most sweet throat of the Bridegroom, which not only excels all sweetness, but even expels it. The more the sweetness of this is felt, the more it is desired. It has hunger in this life, not satiety; refreshment, not fullness. For it is so sweet that it is always desired, so immense that it is never comprehended to the full; and he who is so affected as to call himself satisfied, and wholly filled, I know not whether he is refreshed from the throat of the Bridegroom, or from adultery and a false messenger: They that eat me shall yet hunger, says the Wisdom of God; and they that drink me shall yet thirst (Eccli. XXIV). Here the goodness of God is a slender taste, 519Cin the future satiety, wherewith we shall be satisfied when his glory shall be made manifest, and we shall be filled with the good things of the house of the Lord. The true savor is thus discerned from the false, because it is not vehement or impetuous; it does not titillate the flesh, but restrains and mitigates the motions of the flesh. It is modest, tranquil, light, sweet, peaceable; it strengthens the spirit, weakens the flesh, kindles and enlightens the mind; it does not lift up, but humbles. For its sweetness stirs up desire, and while it kindles ampler desires it always renders a man humble concerning his own advance. For since what he has is little, as he always reckons himself needy, so he always thinks humbly of himself. An imperfect or false savor shows a man rich to himself, because it does not penetrate unto the knowing of the riches of the goodness of God. But that savor is 519Dimperfect which the new and the carnal as yet receive, and those who have not yet attained the perfect cleanness of the heart, but have the eyes of the heart bleared, so that they cannot see clearly, and comprehend comprenhendere spiritual things. Thence therefore they think themselves rich, whence they see little, and have not the true knowledge. If such men, being more enlightened, knew more, and laid hold of the immensity of this sweetness, they would rather be humbled than lifted up, because they would understand how scant is what they were able to perceive of it. False is the savor which the enemy works, and which sweetly affects and gladdens the mind; but it lifts up, it does not humble; it counterfeits fullness, but has it not: for how empty of true grace those are who perceive this will be plain if they be tried by adversities. Whence they may be compared to a bridal chamber 520Awhich is shining without, but empty within; such men shine and glitter outwardly, because they have a certain appearance of devotion, but within they are empty of virtues and have no fervor. In the secret place of this bridal chamber the enemy sleeps and has stillness, because holy desires and fiery prayers do not rouse or put him to flight, but the lukewarmness of the mind and the false brightness of religion endures him and cherishes him. Their glory is not from within, nor is it so much in conscience as in outward repute; and because they are poured out outwardly, therefore they do not know or perceive inward things. Their savor, even if it be sweet, yet is not most sweet, because it is not from the Bridegroom, but from the adversary. Most sweet is that which the good perceive, who through cleanness of heart have come to the true acquaintance of his goodness. These can proclaim his most sweet 520Bthroat, because, experience teaching them, they have tasted his sweetness. If we also consider his humanity, most sweet was his throat, through which the words of the divinity came forth, because they were spirit and life, as he himself says. Sweet therefore was the preaching, and those words with which he spoke of the kingdom of God. Most sweet therefore was his throat, and he wholly desirable: desirable was the vision of his humanity on earth, but much more desirable his glorified humanity in heaven, which is desirable even to the angels, who desire to look into it. For he is desirable in countenance, whose countenance the whole company of the citizens above desires; but most desired of all is the contemplation of his divinity, to which all that is desired cannot be compared. He is therefore 520Cwholly desirable, who is also desirable desirabilis in his members, alike in those still sojourning on earth and in those reigning in heaven, because their grace delights as much as their glory considered. For here they have the brightness of holiness, and there of glorification. Their holiness is beloved for imitating, and their joy for rejoicing with them and enjoying together with them. Sweet is the contemplation of their joy, which we hope will be ours also, and which we await. This awaiting has gladness, so that we may be rejoicing in hope of this, and patient in tribulations, or in the labors which we bear for this. Christ is therefore desirable even in his own, because out of his own glory and comeliness he made them comely and desirable, so that he may be desired not only for his own sake, but 520Dfor the sake of the elect, whom we shall have as companions and partners with him in glory, and in whose glory we shall rejoice. He is therefore wholly desirable, because in himself and in his members. And this is my beloved, O daughters of Jerusalem; this is he by whom I am loved and whom I love, not in word, nor with a human tongue, but in work and in truth, because I hear his commandments and keep them. Consider the beauty of him, desire his love, O daughters of Jerusalem, that is, souls desiring to come to the vision of the peace above: for through his love, and the fulfilling of his commandments, one comes through to the vision of his beauty, to the happiness and peace above, to which may Jesus Christ, the Bridegroom of the Church, deign to lead us, who lives and reigns world without end. Amen.

• 521A

Come into my garden, my sister, my bride (Cant. V). Thou hast been made a garden for me, O soul, by working in thee for me the diverse perfumes of the virtues and of good work. Now also it is time that thou come into my garden, to receive the delights of my garden, because thou art a sister, thou art an heir; come to the inheritance, because thou art a bride; come to the embraces, come to sleep that thou mayest receive the inheritance; because, when I shall have given sleep to my beloved, this is their inheritance. Thou hast slept outwardly, but thou hast watched with thy heart and hast thought upon the inheritance; come to the joy for which thou hast labored, rest after labor, contemplate by sight what thou hast contemplated by faith. 521BHope has refreshed thee; let vision now refresh thee. In the left hand thou hast been still; let the right hand embrace thee, and let earthly things not constrain thee and encompass thee; come into my garden. My garden is a garden of delights. In my garden the roses of the martyrs are red with wondrous comeliness; with wondrous whiteness the lilies of the confessors and of the virgins shine and give forth their fragrance. In my garden there are kinds of diverse fruits, and as many delights as there are merits of the blessed who reign in the kingdom. In my garden is every planting of the ancient Fathers, or of the new grace. Whatever was ever planted, whatever of good has been done from the beginning of the world, hither the fruit of all has ascended. Hither it has finally come; all these things have profited thee, they await thee, they will receive thee. This is the fruit of my elect, which always remains, and is not only the fruit of those who do it, but also of those who love it in 521Cothers; by loving it thou hast made it thine, for by loving me thou hast loved all that is mine; by loving thou hast made thine things mine, and the merits of my own are common to my elect. For single things are not only of single men, but all things are of all. Come therefore hither, to receive all things at once, because all things have been prepared for thee: new things with old have I kept for thee, namely the ancient and the recent merits of my own, that thou mayest be delighted with all, mayest possess all, mayest be satisfied out of all. I have reaped my myrrh with my spices: I reaped myrrh in the martyrs, spices in the confessors and in those who lived well. The myrrh of the martyrs has come to the harvest: for their bitterness passes away, and they have come through to the fruit; for they have received the rewards for their labor. The confessors, from the confession of their own 521Dsins and of my praise, have passed over to confessing to my name unto praise without labor, unto the praise of peace and of the vision of me. The confessors were spices: for by the example of a good life they refreshed others and were fragrant with a good odor. My myrrh also have I reaped: for I consummated the bitterness and the punishment of my death, but through this I obtained for my members the sweet joys of salvation. The tastes of whose passion are savory to me through love, but that which is confected out of it, with the sweet spice of the redemption of man, refreshes me; neither the myrrh of the martyrs nor the spices of the confessors would have perceived these joys, if the myrrh of my death had not perceived them. My blood extinguished the flaming sword set before paradise; and this being extinguished, the cherubim also, whom it barred along with itself, does not deny to man 522Athe entrance, since he knows him to have been redeemed by the blood of his own Creator. Nor does he receive him only into his own fellowship, but also unto the likeness of knowledge; for the cherubim is called the fullness of knowledge, and man receives the likeness of knowledge, that he may know perfectly, and even as he has been known, who here knew by experience. I have eaten the honeycomb with my honey, I have drunk my wine with my milk. In the passion I bore my bitter things, but now I perceive the sweet things of the resurrection. Then roasted as a fish, now I eat the honey of glorified humanity. And I who was as one despised and the last of men am now crowned with glory and honor and set above all the things of the Father, and not only above all the things of men, but also of angels; I eat the honeycomb with the honey, because in glorified humanity I enjoy in 522Bmyself the glory of the divinity, and in my members I perceive the same. This is my sweetness, these my delights with the sons of men, these the feasts, this the banquet. This is food and drink to me, that I eat these things more sweetly than honey, and drink them more pleasantly and delightfully than wine and milk. In these delights I take my joy, and with the same I feed and give drink to my members: for the honeycomb of honey were to me those sweet in manners and in works, the wine and the milk the wise and the simple; to which banquet come, O sister and bride, after thy labors.

Who is this that ascends, and crossing the deserts? (Cant. III) [Vulg. Cant. 8:5 de deserto, "out of the desert"; Cant. 3:6, which the note cites, per desertum, "through the desert"]. Whither does she tend, or what does she portend, covered with flowers? Papae, filled with riches, she does not run upon the thief, the singular virgin. O robber, now art thou robbed, made the prey 522Cof a virgin! This is the enemy of Holofernes, the Hebrew woman, why dost thou spurn the Jews, Aman, Esther is a Jewess, thou spreadest a cross for Mardochai, thou shalt be punished with it. The singular wild beast; the king is Assuerus, Esther of great name. This is that rod of Jesse, which Isaias reports to have been born of the root, whose flower is the Messiah, the harvest of whose passion has strewn the ways of the world with fruit a hundredfold, with sixtyfold and thirtyfold. This is that Sunamite who served David. This Jahel, so tiny, crushed Sisara. This is the queen of Saba, who came to the realms of king Solomon, whose wisdom she heard in the sanctuary; she saves her male child out of the hand of Pharaoh; this is the fleece of Gedeon, enriching the little vessel with dew; this is the singular ferculum of the true Solomon, and the ivory tower, 522Dgolden, shining from the whole, wholly delightful; this is she in whom the king reclines himself, the reclining-place of wayfarers while he turns aside; this is the inn, the King of eternal glory inclines his head upon her, having no hut. O of how sweet a memory is a mother so praiseworthy! This is the tree set aflame, but that knows not how to be burned up; the star begotten of Jacob, the herald of the true sun; the gate always barred, passable to the king alone; but also the ark of the covenant, borne upon the shoulders of David, carried over with great jubilation. She, holding the moon beneath her sole, stands compassed with the sun; such does she stand forth, and so holy, having so many charisms, so many figures, signs so great, bearing so many riddles, as there are stars of heaven. Consider how great she is, thou whoever thou art in jubilation: propped up with these little flowers, hedged about with these apples, she stands plucked out of perils, laurelled in the harbor, and, blessed, joined to the Trinity, she now enjoys the longed-for 523Akisses! O let the reborn now applaud! O the jubilation wherewith she jubilates, the mother made one with her son! O how brightly she glows red, clothed in double garments; the translator does not so winnow it, faith so alleges, that she now reigns with God! Hail, Mary, full of grace; may God be with thee. Of our corruption, which the Jew dreams. Let the seducer Sadducee waste away in his deceit: 524Afor thou hast truly risen. O sweet mother of Christ, have mercy on the guilty! Hail, Mary, mother of grace, queen of the world, mother of mercy, save us from ruin, fountain of life, vein of pardon; hasten then to come when we draw near to death, that with thee we may be able to rejoice perpetually. Amen.