The Ascent of Mount Carmel

We have, therefore, to lead these three powers of the • S. Luke xiv. 33. f S. Luke xi. 5. X Is. vi. 2. soul unto these three virtues; informing the understanding by faith, stripping the memory of all that it possesses by hope, and informing the will by charity, detaching them from, and making them blind to, all that is beside these three virtues. 5. This is the spiritual night which I have called the / active night ; because the soul labours, on its own part, to enter into it. When I was treating of the night oi sense, I explained how that the sensual powers of the soul are to be emptied of all sensible objects in the desire, so that the soul may go forth from the beginning of its course to the middle, which is faith ; so now, while speaking of the night of the spirit, I shall also explain, by the help of God, how the spiritual powers of the soul are to be emptied and purified of all that is not God, and remain in the darkness of these three virtues, which are the means and dispositions by which the soul becomes united with God. Herein is found every security against the cunning of the devil and the craftiness of self-love with all its ramifications, which is wont most deeply to deceive and hinder the progress of spiritual persons, because they do not know how to be detached, and to guide their steps by these virtues. For this cause they never perfectly reach the substance and pureness of spiritual good, neither do they journey, as they might do, by the straightest and the shortest road. Keep in mind, however, that I am now speaking specially of those who have begun to enter the state

/ of contemplation. For, as to beginners, this must be discussed at greater length, which I shall do when I shall have to treat of what is peculiar to them.

The straitness of the way of life. The detachment and freedom necessary for those who walk in it The detachment of the understanding. THE pureness and detachment of the three powers of the soul require, for their discussion, greater knowledge and abilities than mine, so as to enable spiritual persons to comprehend how strait the way is that leadeth unto life, and that, convinced of this, they may not wonder at the emptiness and detachment wherein we must abandon, in this night, the three powers of the soul. For this end we must ponder well the words of our Lord, applied here to the dark night, and the way of^peirfectLon^ Our Lord saith, 'How narrow is the gate and SSskfis the way that leadeth to life ; and few there are that find it.' * Consider the great and significant import of the word 'how/ It is as if He had said, € In truth it is very narrow, much narrower than you think/ Consider, also, that He began by saying, ' How narrow is the gate/ By this He teaches us that the soul that will enter in by the gate of Christ, which is the beginning of the road, must first of all constrain itself, and detach the will from the things of time and sense, loving God above them all. This refers to the night of the senses. ^'Jh^^JI > tr^tr****' 2. Our Lord immediately adds, 1 Strait is the way,' that is of perfection. By this He teaches us that He who will walk in the way of perfection must not only enter through the narrow gate, emptying himself of everything that relates to sense, but must also renounce all

* S. Matt, vii. 14. that he possesses, laying a constraint upon himself, and releasing himself entirely from all attachment even to spiritual things. Thus the narrow gate refers to the sensual nature of man, and the tfretit way to his spiritual or rational nature. (W^h^tU/ 3. He says also, 4 Few there are that find it/ Mark here the reason of this, which is that there are but few who understand how, and desire, to enter into this supreme detachment and emptiness of spirit. For this pathway up the lofty mountain of perfection, in that it ascends upwards and is strait, requires that those who climb it should carry nothing with them which shall press them downwards, or embarrass them in their ascent upwards. And as this is a matter in which we should seek and aim after God alone ; so God only ought to be the sole object of our efforts. 4. This clearly shows that the soul must be not only disentangled from all that belongs to the creature, but also detached and annihilated in the things of the spirit. And so our Lord teaching us, and guiding us into this road, gives us this wonderful doctrine, and which is, if I may so say, the less practised by spiritual persons the more it is necessary for them. I shall transcribe it here, oecause it is so necessary and so much to the purpose, and then explain its real and spiritual meaning. any man will follow Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me. For whosoever will save his life, shall lose it, and whosoever shall lose his life for My sake . . . shall save it.'*/0 that some one would teach us how to understand, practise, and feel what is

* S. Mark viii 34, 3$. involved in this profound lesson of self-denial given us by our Lo?d Himself, that spiritual persons may perceive how different, on this road, their conduct ought to be from that wljich many of them think to be right ! Some consider any kind of retirement from the world, and any correction of excesses to be sufficient ; others are content with a certain degree of virtue, persevere in prayer and practise mortification, but they do not rise to this detachment, and poverty, or self-denial, or spiritual pureness — all these are one— which our Saviour here recommends, because they nourish and clothe their natural self with consolations, instead of detaching themselves therefrom, and denying themselves in all things for God. They think it enough to deny themselves in the things of this world, without annihilating themselves, and purging away all self-seeking in spiritual things. Hence it comes to pass, that when any of this solid devotion presents itself to them, which consists in the annihilation of all sweetness in God, in dryness, in distaste, in trouble, which is the real spiritual cross, and £he nakedness of the spiritual poverty of Christ, they run away from it as from death itself. They seek only for delights, for sweet communications, and satisfactions in God, but this is not self-denial, nor detachment of spirit, but rather spiritual gluttony. They render themselves spiritually enemies of the cross of Christ, for true spirituality seeks for bitterness rather than sweetness in God, inclines to suffering more than to consolation, and to be in want of everything for God rather than to possess ; to dryness and afflictions rather than to sweet communications, knowing well that this is to follow

Christ and deny self, while the other course is perhaps nothing hut to seek oneself in God, which is the very opposite of love. For to seek self in God is to seek for comfoft and refreshment from God. But to seek Qod in Himself is not only to be willingly deprived of this thing and of that for God, but to incline ourselves to will and choose for Christ's sake whatever is most disagreeable, whether proceeding from God or from the world ; this is to love God. 5. O who can tell us how far God wills that this selfrenunciation should reach! In truth it should be as I death, a temporal, natural, and spiritual annihilation in all things which the will esteems ; herein is all our gain. This is the meaning of our Saviour when He said, c Whosoever will save his life shall lose it;'* that is, whosoever will possess, or seek anything for himself, he shall lose it. * Whosoever shall lose 4his life for My sake, shall save it ; ' that is, whosoever shall renounce for the sake of Christ whatever is pleasing to his own will, choosing rather the cross — to which our Lord referred when He said, * He that hateth his life ' t— he shall gain it.

6. Our Lord taught this same truth to the two disciples who asked that they might be admitted to sit on His right hand and on His left. He gave no encouragement to them in the matter of their petition, but offered them the chalice which He was about to drink Himself, as something more safe and more precious on earth than the dignity which they sought. This chalice is the death of our natural self by detachment from all that relates to • S. Mark viii. 35. t S. John xil 25. sense, as I have already said, and from all that relates to the spirit, as I shall explain hereafter, so that we may journey onwards on this strait way, that is, detachment from our own understanding, sense, and feelings, and in such a manner that the soul shall renounce itself both in sense and spirit, and more, so that it may not be hindered even by the things of the spirit on the narrow road. For this road admits only of self-denial— as our Lord declares — and the cross, which is our staff to lean on, and which lightens the road and makes it easy. Thus our Lord hath said : ' My yoke is sweet, and My burden light/* This burden is the cross. For if we are determined to submit ourselves, and to carry the cross — this is nothing else but an earnest resolution to seek and endure it in everything for God — we shall find great refreshment and sweetness therein to enable us to travel along this road, thus detached from all things, desiring nothing. But if we cling to anything whatever, whether it come from God or from the world, we are not journeying in detachment and self-denial, and so we shall miss our way, and never be able to ascend by the narrow path.

7. Would that I could persuade spiritual persons that the way of God consisteth not in the multiplicity of meditations, ways of devotion or sweetness, though these may be necessary for beginners, but in one necessary thing only, in knowing how to deny themselves in earnest, inwardly and outwardly, giving themselves up to suffer for Christ's sake, and annihilating themselves utterly. He who shall exercise himself herein, will then find all * S. Matt. xi. 30. [CHAP. Vn.] OF MOUNT CARMEL. 91 this and much more. And if he be deficient at all in this exercise, which is the sum and root of all virtue, all he may do will be but beating the air utterly profitless, notwithstanding great meditations and communications. There is no progress but in the following of Christ, Who is the way, the truth, and the life. ' I am the way,' saith He, 1 and the truth, and the life. No man cometh to the Father but by Me.'* And again, € 1 am the door. By Me if any man enter in he shall be saved.'t That spirituality, therefore, which would travel in sweetness at its ease, shunning the following of Christ, is, in my opinion, nothing worth.

8. And now, having said that Christ is the'way, and that the way is to die to our natural self in all that relates to sense and spirit, I proceed to explain how it is to be done in. imitation of Christ, for He is our light and our example. In the first place, it is certain that He died spiritually while on earth to all things belonging to sense, and naturally at death ; ' The Son of man,' saith He, 'hath not where to lay His head.'J And when He died it was the same. In the second place, it is certain that at the hour of death His soul was desolate and, as it were, brought to nothing, forsaken of His Father, left without comfort in the most distressing dryness, so that He cried out on the cross, s My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken Me?'§ This was the greatest sensible abandonment of His whole life ; and it was then that He wrought the greatest work of His whole life of miracles and of wonders, the reconciliation • S. John xiv. 6. t lb. x. 9. X S. Matt. viii. 20. § S. Matt, xxvii. 46.

and union with God by grace of all mankind. This He accomplished at that very moment when He was most annihilated in all things, brought lowest in the estimation of men, for when they saw Him dying on the ignominious tree, they showed Him no reverence, yea, rather they stood by and derided Him. Then, too, was He brought lowest in His very nature, for that was as it were annihilated when He died ; and as to the protection and consolation of His Father also, for He was then forsaken that He might pay our debt to the utmost, and unite us with God, being Himself annihilated and, as it were, brought to nothing. Therefore it is that the Psalmist saith of Him, ' I am brought to nothing, and I Hnew not.'* This is for the instruction of the truly spiritual man in the mystery of the gate and way ot Christ, that he may become united with God, and also to teach him that the more he annihilates self for God, in sense and spirit, the more will he be united with God, •and the greater the worjc he will accomplish. And when he shall have been brought to nothing, when his humility is perfect, then will take place the union of the soul and God, which is the highest and noblest estate attainable in this life. This consisteth not in spiritual refreshments, sweetness, or sentiments, but in the living death of tjie cross, sensually and spiritually, outwardly and inwardly.

9. I will not proceed further with this subject, though I could pursue it indefinitely ; for I see that Jesus Christ is but little known by those who consider themselves His friends. These, loving themselves very much, seek in Him their own comfort and satisfaction, and not His • Ps. txxii. 22. [CHAP. Vltl.] OF MOUNT CAkMEL. sufferings and death for love of Him. I am now speaking of those who think themselves His friends, not of those who live at a great distance from Him ; men of learning and of dignity, and others who live in the world, slaves of ambition and of honours— of these, we may say, they know not Christ; and their end, however good, Will be full of anguish. I am not speaking of these, but they will be remembered in the day of judgment, for c to them it behoveth us first to speak the word of God,'0 as to persons whom He has set up as guides to others, by reason of their learning and exalted rank. 10. But let me now address myself to the understanding of the spiritual man, and in an especial manner to him whom God in His goodness has raised up to the state of contemplation— for I address myself now particularly to him— and instruct him how he is to direct himself in the way of God by faith, and purify himself from all contrary things, girding up his loins that he may enter on this narrow path of obscure contemplation.

No creature, no knowledge, comprehensible by the understanding, can subserve as proximate means of union with God. Before I discuss the proper and fitting means of union with God, which is faith, it is right that I should show how that no created, or imagined, thing can subserve the understanding as a proper means for its union with God; and how everything which the understanding

• Acts xiii. 46. embraces, if it does but cleave to it, becomes a hindrance instead of a help. In this chapter I shall show this in general, and afterwards I shall do so in particular, going through all sorts of knowledge which the understanding may receive through the senses, both exterior and interior ; and then the inconveniences and losses it may sustain through all such knowledge, because it does not proceed in reliance on the proper means, which is the faith. 2. It is a principle of philosophy that all means must be proportionate to the end, having a certain fitness, and resemblance to it, such as shall be sufficient for the object in view. For instance, a person wishes to reach a certain city : he must necessarily travel along the road, which is the means, leading to it. Likewise, if you wish to combine and unite together wood and fire, in that case, it is requisite that heat, that is the means, should so dispose the wood, and raise it to such a degree of heat that it shall have a great resemblance and proportion to fire. If you attempt this by any other than the proper means, which is heat, as, for instance, by air, water, or earth, it will be impossible to unite wood with fire. So, therefore, if the understanding is to be united with God, so far as that is possible in this life, it must, of necessity, make use of those means which can effect that union, and which are most like unto God.

3. But remember, among all creatures, the highest and the lowest, there is not one that comes near unto God, or that bears ally likeness to His substance. For, though it be true, as theologians tell us, that all creatures bear a certain relation to God, and are tokens of His being, some more, some less, according to the greater or less perfection of their nature, yet there is no essential likeness or communion between them and Him ; yea, rather the distance between His divine nature and their nature is infinite. Hence, then, it is impossible for the understanding to attain perfectly unto God, by means of created things, whether of heaven or of earth, because there is no proportion of similitude between them. Thus David, speaking of the heavenly host, cries out : 1 There is none among the gods like unto Thee, O Lord.'* The ' gods ' are the holy angels and the souls of the saints. And again, * Thy way, O God, is in the holy place ; who is the great God like our God ? ' t That is, the way to Thee, O God, is a holy way, namely, pureness of faith. ' Who is the great God like our God ' f Who is the saint so high in glory, or the angel so exalted by nature, that can be a way proportionate and sufficient for us to attain unto God ? The same prophet speaking oi the things of heaven and earth together, saith, 'the Lord is high and looketh on the low, and the high Heknoweth afar off.' + That is, God high in His own being, seeth that the things of the earth are in themselves most vile and low, in comparison with Himself ; and € the high/ the heavenly host, He knoweth to be far distant from Him. No creature, therefore, can be a proportionate means of perfect union with God.

4. So also nothing that the imagination may conceive or the understanding comprehend, in this life, is or can be a proximate means of union with God. For if we speak of natural knowledge ; the understanding is incapable of • Ps. Ixxxv. 8. t Ibid, lxxvi. 14. t Ibid, cxxxvii. 6. comprehending anything unless it be presented to it under forms and images by the bodily senses ; and these forms of things, as I have already said, cannot serve as means, and no natural acts of the understanding can in any way contribute thereto. 5. Again, if we speak of supernatural acts— as far as possible in this life— the understanding in its bodily prison has neither the disposition nor the capacity requisite for the reception of the clear knowledge of God. This knowledge is not of this life, for we must either die, or remain without it. Thus God said to Moses, ' Man shall not see I Me and live.'0 And S. John saith the same, 'No man hath seen God at any time.' t St Paul, too, repeats the words of Isaias, 'Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man.' i This is the reason why Moses at the bush * durst not behold,' § God being there present. He knew that no contemplation of God by his understanding could be fitting though that sprung from the deep sense he had of God. Elias, our father, covered his face on the mountain, in the presence of God. || By that action he taught us that he made his understanding blind, not venturing to apply an instrument so vile to a matter so high ; and that he perceived clearly, that however much he saw or understood, all would be most unlike unto God, and far distant from Him.

6. No knowledge, therefore, and no conceptions in this mortal life can serve as proximate means of this high union of the love of God. All that the understanding • Exod. xxxiii. 20. t S. John t. i& X I Cor. ii. 9 ; I*, lxiv. 4. I Acts viL 32 ; Ex. iii. 6. || 3 Kings xix. 13. [CHAP, vm.] OF MOUNT CARMEL. 97 may comprehend; all that the will may be satisfied with; and all that the imagination may conceive, is most unlike unto God, and most disproportionate to Him. * This truth is admirably expressed by the prophet : 4 To whom then have you likened God? or what image will you make for Him ? Hath the workman cast a graven statue? or hath the goldsmith formed it with gold, or the silversmith with plates of silver? ' * The workman is the understanding which fashions our knowledge, and cleanses it from the iron of impressions and fancy. The goldsmith is the will, which is capable of receiving the forms and figures of pleasure caused by the gold of love wherewith it loves. The silversmith which cannot represent God with plates of silver, is the memory with the imagination, the notions and conceptions of which are well described as plates of silver. The prophet then says, in other words : The understanding, by speculation, cannot comprehend anything whichjs like untO-GodU. .... no~3elight, no satisfaction of thej^jU resemble that which is (jrod ;

nor can the memory furnish the imagina- • tion with any notions or images to represent Him. It is evident, then, from this that the understanding cannot be immediately directed in the way of God by any knowledge such as this, and that, if it is to draw near unto God, it must do so by not understanding rather than by seeking to understand ; yea, rather it must be by making itself blind, covering itself with darkness, and not by opening its eyes, that it can attain to the divine enlightening. Hence it is that contemplation, by which God enlightens the understanding, is called • It. xl. i8, 19.

mystical theology, that is, the secret wisdom of God, because it is a secret even to the understanding which receives it. St. Dionysius calls it a ray of darkness. And the prophet Baruch thus speaks of it : <The way of wisdom they have not known, neither have they remembered her paths.'* It is therefore clear that the understanding must be blind, as to every path along which it ^as to travel, in order to be united with God. 7. Aristotle says, that as the eyes of the bat are with regard to the sun, which wholly blinds them, so is our understanding with regard to the greater light of God, which is to us perfect darkness. He further says, that the more profound and the clearer the things of God are in themselves, the less intelligible and the more obscure they are to us. The Apostle says the same thing, when he teaches us that the deep things of God are not known unto men. I should never end were I to bring forward here all the authorities and reasons which show that, among all created things of which the understanding takes cognisance, there is nothing which can serve as a ladder whereby it may ascend unto God, Who is so high. Yea, rather we must acknowledge that all and each of these things, if the finderstanding will use them as proximate means of union, will prove not only a hindrance, but the source of many errors and delusions, in the ascent of the mount.

Faith is the proximate and proportionate means of the understanding by which the soul may attain to the divine union of love. Proofs from the Holy Scriptures. It appears then from what I have written that the understanding, if rightly disposed for the divine union, mi^t be pure, and empty of all sensible objects, disengaged from all clear intellectual perceptions, inwardly tranquil and still, resting on faith ; for faith is the sole proximate and proportionate means of the soul's union with God, seeing that there is no other alternative, but that God is either seen, or believed in. For as God is infinite, so faith proposes Him as infinite ; and as He is Three and One, so faith proposes Him to us as Three and One. ^And thus by this means alone, that is faith, God manifests Himself to the soul in the divine light, which surpasses all understanding, and therefore the greater the faith ot the soul the more is that soul united to God. This is the meaning of St. Paul when he said, ' He that cometh to God must believe that He is.'* Such an one must walk by faith, with his understanding in darkness, and in the obscurity of faith only ; for in this darkness God unites Himself to the understanding, being Himself hidden in it, as it is written : * Darkness was under His feet, and He ascended upon the cherubim, and He flew upon the wings of the winds. And He made darkness His covert, His pavilion round about Him, dark waters in the clouds of the air/f The darkness * under His feet,' serving for 'His covert' and 'His pavilion,' and 'the dark waters/

* Hebr. xi. 6. t Ps. xvii. 10— 12. signify the obscurity of faith, which conceals Him. His * ascending on the cherubim/ and His flying 'on the wings of the winds,' signify that He transcends all understanding. The ' cherubim ' mean those who understand or contemplate ; the ' wings of the winds ' are the sublime and lofty notions or conceptions of the mind, above which His divine being is, which no man can ever comprehend. 2. This truth is shadowed forth in the Holy Scriptures, where we read that, when Solomon had finished the temple, God came down in a cloud, which filled it, so that the people could not see. 'Then Solomon said: The Lord said that He would dwell in a cloud.'* Moses also, on the mount, saw a cloud wherein God was hidden.f And at all times, when God communicated with men, He appeared through a cloud. We read in the book of Job, that God spoke out of the darkened air: 'The Lord answered Job out of a whirlwind.'? These clouds signify the obscurity of faith, in which God is hidden when He communicates Himself to the soul. This will be removed at that time to which St. Paul referred when he said, ' When that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be done away ;'§ when 'that which is in part,' the obscurity of faith, shall be done away, and when ' that which is perfect,' the divine light, shall come.

3. This is prefigured in the army of Gedeon: the soldiers had lamps in their hands, which they saw not, because they were ' within the pitchers.' But when they had broken the pitchers the lamps gave light. Gedeon # 3 Kings viii. io— 12. X Job. xxxviii. I ; xL I. t Exod. xix. 9. I t Cor. xiii 10. 'gave them trumpets in their hands, and empty pitchers, and lamps within the pitchers.'* So faith, of which these pitchers were a figure, contains the divine light, that is the truth which God is ; and at the end of this mortal life, when the work of faith is done, and the pitchers broken, the light and glory of God will then shine forth. 4. It is therefore plain that the soul, which would in this life be united with God and commune immediately with Him, must unite itself to Him in the cloud where, according to Solomon, He has promised to dwell ; and in the obscure air, wherein He was pleased to reveal His secrets to Job ; and take up the pitchers of Gedeon, that it may hold in its hands, in the acts of the will, that light which is the union of love — though in the obscurity of faith— so that, as soon as the pitcher of life be broken, it may see God face to face in glor^P

5. It remains for me now to describe particularly those notions and apprehensions which the understanding can admit ; the hindrance and the injury they can do in the way of faith; and how the soul must be disposed with respect to them, so that they may be profitable rather than hurtful, both those which proceed from the senses as well as those which proceed from the spirit The divisions of the apprehensions and acts of the In order to describe specially the gain and the loss which the notions and apprehensions of the understaad-

• Judg. viL 1 6. ing occasion in the soul with respect to faith, the means of the divine union, it is necessary to distinguish here ^between all these apprehensions, natural and supernatural, so that the understanding may be directed with greater accuracy into the night and obscurity of faith. This I shall do with the utmost brevity possible. 2. There are two ways by which these notions and intelligent acts enter into the understanding; one is natural, the other supernatural. The first includes all the means by which the understanding receives knowledge, whether through the channel of the bodily senses, or by reflection. The second comprises all that is beyond the natural powers and capacity of the understanding. Some supernatural knowledge is corporeal, and some spiritual. The former is of two kinds ; one of them enters the understanding through the exterior bodily senses ; and the other through the interior bodily senses, comprehending all that the imagination may grasp, form, and conceive. The spiritual supernatural knowledge is also of two kinds; one distinct and special ; the other confused, obscure, and general. The first kind comprises four particular apprehensions, communicated to the mind without the intervention of any one of the bodily senses. These are visions, revelations, locutions, and spiritual impressions. The second kind, which is obscure and general, has but one form, that of contemplation, which is the work of faith. The soul is to be led into this by directing it thereto, through all the rest, beginning with the first and detaching it from them.

Of the hurt and hindrance resulting from apprehensions of the understanding supernaturally produced through the instrumentality of the outward senses. How the soul is to be guided under such circumstances. The first notions, mentioned in the foregoing chapter, are those which relate to the understanding in the order of nature. I shall not speak of them now, because I have discussed them in the first book, while showing how the soul is to be led into the night of sense, where I have given fitting directions concerning them. And therefore the subject of the present chapter will be those notions and apprehensions which relate to the understanding solely in the supernatural order, in the way of the outward bodily senses of seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling, and touching. With respect to all these, spiritual men are occasionally liable to representations and objects, set before them in a supernatural way. They sometimes see the forms and .figures of those of another life, saints, or angels good and evil, or certain extraordinary lights and brightness. They hear strange words, sometimes seeing those who utter them, and sometimes not. They have a sensible perception at times of most sweet odours, without knowing whence they proceed. Their sense of taste is also deliciously affected ; and that of the touch so sweetly caressed at times that the bones and the marrow exult and rejoice, bathed, as it were, in joy. This delight is like to that which we call the unction of the Spirit, flowing from

Him through all the senses of simple souls. And this sensible sweetness is wont to affect spiritual persons, because of that sensible devotion, more or less, which they have, every one in his own measure. 2. Still, though all these may happen to the bodily senses in the way of God, we must never rely on them, nor encourage them ; yea, rather we must fly from them, without examining whether they be good or evil. For, inasmuch as they are exterior and in the body, there is the less certainty of their being from God. It is more natural that God should communicate Himself through the spirit— wherein there is greater security and profit for the soul— than through the senses, wherein there is usually much danger and delusion, because the bodily sense decides upon, and judges, spiritual things, thinking them to be what itself feels them to be, when in reality they are as different as body and soul, sensuality and reason. The bodily sense is as ignorant of spiritual things as a beast of the field is of the things of reason. He who makes much of them mistakes his way, and exposes himself to the great danger of delusions ; and, at least, places a great obstacle on his road to true spirituality. For all these bodily matters bear no proportion to spiritual things.

3. There is always ground for fear that they proceed from the devil rather than from God ; for the devil has ttiore influence in that which is exterior and corporeal, and can more easily deceive us therein than in what is more interior. And these bodily forms and objects, the more exterior they are, the less do they profit the interior spiritual man, by reason of the great distance and disproportion subsisting between the corporeal and the spiritual. For, although these things communicate some spirituality, as is always the case when they proceed from God, yet it is much less than it would have been, had they been more spiritual and interior ; and thus they become more easily and readily occasions of error, presumption, and vanity. As they are so palpable and so material they excite the senses greatly, and the soul is led to consider them the more important, the more they are felt. It runs after them and abandons the secure guidance of faith, thinking that the light they give is a guide and means to that which it desires, union with God. Thus the soul, the more it makes of such things, the more it strays from the perfect way and means, that is, the faith. Besides, when the soul perceives itself subject to these extraordinary visitations, self-esteem very frequently enters in, and it thinks itself to be something in the eyes of God, which is contrary to humility. The devil also knows too well how to insinuate into the soul a secret, and sometimes an open, self-satisfaction. For this end he frequently presents to the eyes the forms of saints, and most beautiful lights ; he causes voices well dissembled to strike the ear, and delicious odours the smell ; he produces sweetness in the mouth, and thrills of pleasure in the sense of touch ; and all to make us long for such things that he may lead us astray into much evil.

4. For this reason, then, we must always reject and disregard these representations and sensations. For even if some of them were from God, no wrong is offered to Him, because the effect and fruit, which He desires to bring forth in the soul, is not the less accomplished when that soul rejects them and seeks them not. The reason is this : all corporeal visions or affection of any of the other senses— the same is true of all other interior communications— if from God, effect their chief object at the moment of their presence, before the soul has time to deliberate whether it shall entertain or reject them. For as God begins them in a supernatural way without effort on the part of the soul, and without respect to any capacity for them ; so the effect, which He desires to produce by means of them, is wrought without reference to any effort or capacity of the soul ; for it is perfected and brought to pass in the spirit passively without its free consent, and therefore does not depend on the will in any way. It is as if a person quite naked came into contact with fire : it matters not whether he wills to be burned or not, the fire necessarily performs its own proper functions.

5. This is the case with good visions and apparitions : even if the soul wills it not, they produce their effects, chiefly and specially in the soul rather than in the body. So also the visions, which are the work of the devil— without the consent of the soul— bring forth trouble or dryness of spirit, vanity, or presumption, although they are not so effectual for evil, as the visions of God are for good. Diabolic visions do not proceed beyond the primary motions, neither can they influence the will, provided it seeks them not ; and the disquiet which they occasion does not last long, unless the soul be negligent and irresolute when they occur. But the visions of God penetrate into the inmost parts of the soul, and produce their effects, a quickened zeal and overpowering joy, which enable and dispose it to assent freely and lovingly to good. Still, even when these outward visions and impressions come from God, if the soul cleaves to them and accepts them readily, six inconveniences follow. i. The perfect guidance » of faith is lessened ; because the experience of sense derogates from faith ; for faith, as I have said, surpasseth all sense, and thus the soul, by not closing its eyes against every object of sense, turns away from the means of union with God.

ii. They are hindrances in the way of the spirit, if they are not rejected ; for the soul rests upon them, and does not regard the invisible. This, too, was one of those reasons, of which our Lord spoke to His disciples, that it was expedient for them that He should go away - that the Spirit might come. Neither did He permit Mary Magdalene to kiss His feet, after His resurrection, in order that she, as well as the disciples in the former case, might be the more grounded in faith. iii. The soul clings selfishly to them, and does not advance to true resignation and detachment of spirit. iv. The soul loses the good effect of them and the interior spirit they produce, because it has regard to the sensible part of them, which is the least important. Thus that spirit, which is the proper fruit, is not so abundantly received; because that is most deeply impressed in the soul when we deny ourselves in all things of sense, as they are most at variance with the pure spirit. v. The soul is wasting the gifts of God, because it assumes them for its own, and does not profit rightly by them. To assume them for our own and not to profit by them, is to seek them and to occupy ourselves with them. God does not send them for this end ; neither should we easily believe that they come from God.

vi. The ready admission of them opens the door to the devil, that he may deceive us by others like them ; he knows well how to dissemble and disguise his own visions so that they shall seem to be good; for satan transformeth himself 'into an angel of light.'* I shall treat this question hereafter, by the grace of God, in the chapter on spiritual gluttony in the third book.t 6. It is therefore expedient that the soul should close its eyes and reject them, come they whence they may. For unless we do so we shall make way for those of the devil, and give him so much power over us, that not only will evil visions come in the place of those which are divine, but, when the latter cease, will also become so numerous, that the devil will have every influence over us, and God none, as it has happened to many incautious and ignorant souls. These so relied on their visions, that many of them had great difficulty in returning to God in pureness of faith, and many never returned at all ; so widely and so deeply had the roots of the devil grown within them. For this reason it is good to shut our eyes against these visions and to be afraid of them all. By withdrawing from the evil visions we escape the delusions of the devil ; by withdrawing from those which are good

• 2 Cor. xl 14. t Cb. ix. ; see also the Dark Night, bk. i., ch. tL we put no obstacles in the way of faith, and the spirit still derives fruit from them. 7. When the soul gives admission readily to these visions God withholds them, because it cleaves to them and does not duly profit by them ; the devil also insinuates himself and multiplies his own visions, because the soul makes room for them. But when the soul is resigned and not attached to such visions the devil retires, seeing that he cannot injure us then ; and, on the other hand, God multiplies His graces in the humble and detached soul, placing it over many things, like the good and faithful servant to whom it is said, ' Because thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will place thee over many things.'* The soul that is faithful amid these visitations God will not leave, till He shall raise it up, step by step, to the divine union and transformation. This is the way our Lord tests and elevates the soul : He visits it first in the senses according to its capacity ; so that, having conducted itself then as it ought to do, receiving ijn all temperance these first morsels for its own strength and nourishment, it may be admitted to the better and more abundant feast. If the soul shall overcome the devil in the first combat it shall then pass on to the second ; and if it shall be victorious there also, it shall then pass on to the third ; and then through the seven mansions, the seven degrees of love, until the Bridegroom shall bring it to 'the cellar of wine't ot perfect charity.

Blessed is that soul which knoweth how to fight against the beast with seven heads,J which he opposes • S. Matt. xxv. 21. t Cant H. 4. X Apoc. xiii. 1. to the seven degrees of love. The beast fighteth against each of these degrees with his seven heads; and with each one of them against the soul in all the seven mansions, wherein the soul is tried and gains each degree of the love of God. And, beyond all doubt, if the soul shall faithfully fight against every one of these heads and obtain the victory, it will deserve to pass on from one degree to another, or from one mansion to the next, until it shall have reached the highest, having destroyed the seven heads by which the beast waged so furious a war against it. So fearful is this war that the Apostle says, € It was given unto him to make war with the saints and to overcome them,'* arraying his weapons and munitions of war over against each of these degrees of love. Many, alas, there are who enter the battle of the spiritual life against the beast, who do not cut off even the first head, by self-denial in the sensual objects of this world. Others, more successful, cut off the first, but not the second— the visions of sense— of \yhich I am speaking. But what is more painful still is, that some

who, having cut off not only the first and second, but the third head also, which relates to the interior senses and the passage from the state of meditation into a higher one, are overcome when they should enter into the purity of the spirit by the beast, who returns to the assault with his heads restored to life, and renders ' their latter state worse than the first/ for he bringeth with him * seven other spirits more wicked than himself.'t The spiritual man must therefore reject all these appre-

t S. Luke xi. 26. [CHAP. XI.] OF MOUNT CARMEL. Ill hensions, together with the bodily satisfactions to which the exterior senses are liable, if he would destroy the first and second head of the beast, by entering into the first and second mansion of love by a living faith, not laying hold of, nor being embarrassed by, the impressions of the exterior senses ; for these present the greatest impediment to the spiritual night of faith. 8. It is now clear that these visions and apprehensions of sense cannot be the means of the divine union, for they bear no proportion to God. And this is one of the reasons why Christ would not suffer Mary Magdalene to touch Him, and yet allowed it, as the better and more perfect course, to St. Thomas. The devil rejoices greatly when a soul seeks after revelations and is ready to accept them; for such conduct furnishes him with many opportunities of insinuating delusions, and derogating from faith as much as he possibly can ; for such a soul becomes rough and rude, and falls frequently into many temptations and unseemly habits. I have dwelt at some length on these exterior communications in order to throw greater light on the others, which I have soon to discuss. But I have so much to say on this matter that it appears impossible to have done with it. I might sum up what I have said in this single sentence ; that these visions should never be admitted, unless in certain rare instances, after examination by a learned, spiritual, and experienced director, and even then there must be no desire for them.

Of natural and imaginary apprehensions. Their nature. They cannot be proportionate means of union. The evil results of not knowing how to detach oneself from them in time. BEFORE discussing the imaginary visions which are wont to be represented supernaturally to the interior sense, the imagination and the fancy, it is expedient that I should now — to proceed orderly — speak of the natural apprehensions incident to the same interior bodily sense. I adopt this course that we may advance from the less to the greater — from that which is more outward to that which is more inward — to that most interior recollection wherein the soul is united with God. This, too, is the course I have hitherto observed. In the first place, I treated of the detachment of the soul from the natural apprehensions of exterior objects, and, consequently, from the natural powers of the desires. This I did in the first book,* while speaking of the night of sense. I then treated in detail of detachment from exterior supernatural apprehensions, to which the exterior senses are liable — as in the preceding chapter — so that I may guide the steps of the soul into the night of the spirit in this second book.

2. Now the first subject of discussion is the interior bodily sense, the imagination and fancy, out of which we must cast all imaginary forms and apprehensions naturally incident thereto, and show how impossible it is for the soul to attain to union with God until their • Bk. I ch. iv. operations shall have ceased, because they can never be the proper and proximate means of union. 3. The senses of which I am now speaking particularly are two, bodily and interior, called imagination and fancy, which in their order subserve each other. In the one there is something of reasoning, though imperfect and in an imperfect way ; the other, the imagination, forms the image. For our purpose the discussion of either is equivalent to that of the other, and therefore when I do not mention them both let it be understood that what is said of the one is applicable to the othet also, and that I am speaking indifferently of both, without distinguishing between them. 4. All, therefore, that the senses perceive and fashion are called imaginations and fancies— that is, forms represented to the senses in bodily shape and likeness. These may take place in two ways — supernaturally when, without the action of the senses, they may and do become present passively before them. These are called imaginary visions wrought supernaturally, of which I shall speak hereafter* The other way is natural, wheii the senses actively effect them by their own operation, through forms, figures, and images. These two powers serve for meditation, which is a discursive act by means of imagery, forms, and figures, wrought and fashioned in the senses. We picture to ourselves Christ on the cross, or bound to the pillar, or God sitting on His throne in great majesty. So also we imagine glory as a most beautiful light, and represent before ourselves

• Ch. xxiv. u ^ny other object, human or divine, of which the faculty of imagination is capable. 5. All these imaginations and apprehensions are to be emptied out of the soul, which must remain in darkness so far as it concerns the senses, in order that we may attain to the divine union, because they bear no proportion to the proximate means of union with God; as neither do bodily things, the objects of the five exterior senses. 6. The reason is, that nothing enters the imagination but through the exterior senses. The eye must have seen, or the ear must have heard, or the other senses must first have become cognisant of all that is in it. Or at the utmost, we can only form pictures of what we have seen, heard, or felt; and these forms are not more excellent than what the imagination has received through the senses. Though we picture in our imagination palaces of pearls and mountains of gold, because we have seen gold and pearls^, yet after all this is nothing more than one piece of gold or a single pearl, even though the imagination ranges them in a certain order. And as created things, as I said before/ cannot have any proportion with the being of God, it follows that all the conceptions of the imagination, which must resemble them, cannot serve as proximate means of union with Him. Those persons, therefore, who represent God to their minds under any sort of figure, or as a great fire or light, or anything else, thinking Him to be like them, are very far from drawing near unto Him. For though such considerations, forms, and methods of meditation may be

[CHAP. Xli.] OF MOtfNt CABifEL. llfr necessary for beginners, in order to inflame and fill their souls with love, through the instrumentality of sense, as I shal^ explain hereafter* — and though they may serve as remote means of union, through which souls must usually pass to the goal and resting-place of spiritual repose — still they must so make use of them as to pass beyond them, and not dwell upon them for ever. 7. If we dwell upon them we shall never reach the goal, which is not like the remote means, neither has it any proximate gelation with them. The steps of a ladder have no proximate relation with the goal and place to which we ascend by it, towards which they are but means ; so if he who climbs does not leave behind all steps so that none remain, or if he rests upon one of them, he will never ascend to the summit, to the peaceful resting of the goal. The soul, therefore, that will ascend in this life to the supreme good and rest must pass beyond all these steps of considerations, forms, and notions, because they bear no likeness or proportion to the end, which is God, towards which it tends. 'We may not suppose/ saith the Apostle, f the Divinity to be like unto gold, or silver, or stone, the graving of art and device of man.' t

8. Great, therefore, is the mistake of those spiritual persons who, having laboured to draw near unto God by means of imagery, forms, and meditations, such as become beg nners— while God would attract them to the more spiritual, interior, and unseen good, by depriving them of the joy and sweetness of discursive meditationdo not accept the guidance, neither venture nor know how • Ch. xv. f Acts xvii. 29. to detach themselves from these sensible methods to which they have been accustomed. They retain these methods still, seeking to advance by them and by meditation upon exterior forms, as before, thinking that it must be so always. 9. They take great pains in the matter, but find very little sweetness or none ; yea, rather dryness, weariness, and disquiet of soul increase and grow the more they search after the sweetness they had before, because it is now impossible for them to have it as they had it as first. The soul has no more pleasure in the food, as I have said already,* which was of the senses, but requires another of greater delicacy, interior, and less cognisable by the senses, consisting, not in the travail of the imagination, but in the repose of the soul, and in that quietness thereof, which is more spiritual. The more the soul advances in spirituality, the more it ceases from the operations of its faculties on particular objects ; for it then gives itself up to one sole, pure, and general act ; and so its powers cease from the practice ot that method by which they once travelled towards the point to which the soul was tending ; as the feet cease from movement and are at rest when the journey is over ; for if all were movement, there would be no goal to reach, and if all things are means, where or when shall we enjoy the

10. How sad it is to see men who, when the soul would be at peace in the repose of interior quiet, where God fills it with refreshment and peace, disturb it, draw it away to outward things, compel it to travel again along the road • Bk. I, ch. v. it had passed, and to abandon the goal, where it reposes, for the sake of the means and considc atnns which guided it to its rest. This is not effected without loathing and repugnance on the part of the soul, which would repose in this tranquillity as in its proper place — as it happens to him who after toilsome labour has attained repose ; for when he is made to return to his work he feels it painfully. And as they do not understand the secret of their new condition, they imagine themselves to be idle, doing nothing ; and so do not suffer themselves to be at rest, but strive to reproduce their former reflections and discursive acts. They are therefore full of dryness and trouble, because they seek there for sweetness where there is no longer sweetness for them. To them the proverb applies, 'the more it freezes the more it binds ; ' the more obstinately they cling to this way the worse it becomes for them, because they lead their soul further away from spiritual peace. This is to abandon what is greatest for what is least, to traVel backwards along the road they came, and do again what they have done before.

11. To these my counsel is — learn to abide with attention in loving waiting upon God in the state of quiet; give no heed to your imagination, nor to its operations, for now, as I have said, the powers of the soul are at rest, and are not exercised, except in the sweet and pure waiting of love. If at times they are excited, it is not violently, nor with meditation elaborately prepared, but by the sweetness of love, more under the influence of God than of the ability of the soul, as I shall hereafter dearly explain.* •Book iii, ch. xxxvu 12. Let this, for the present, suffice to show how necessary it is for those who would make progress, to abandon these methods and ways of the imagination at the proper time, when their growth, in that state wherein they are, requires it. And that we may know when this time is come, I shall d 3scribe certain signs which the spiritual man is to discern in himself, that he may thereby recognise the time when he may freely avail himself of the goal already mentioned, and leave behind him all intellectual reflections and all acts of the imagination.

The signs to be observed by the spiritual man that he may know when to withdraw the understanding from imaginary forms and discursive meditations. To avoid confusion in my teaching, I find it necessary in this chapter to explain when the spiritual man should abstain from the meditation which rests on imaginary forms and mental representations, in order that he may abstain from it neither sooner nor later than when the Spirit calls him. For as it is necessary to abstain from it at the proper time, in order to draw near unto God, that we may not be hindered by it ; so also must we not cease from it before the time, lest we go backwards : for though all that the powers of the soul may apprehend cannot be proximate means of union for those who have made some spiritual progress, still they serve, as remote means, to dispose and habituate the minds of beginners to that which is spiritual by means of the senses, and to

clear the way of all other low forms and images, temporal, worldly, and natural. With this view I will mention here certain signs and evidences, three in number, by observing which the spiritual man may know whether the time is come for him to cease from meditation ' or not. 1. L When he finds he cannot meditate nor exert his imagination, nor derive any satisfaction from it, as he was wont to do — when he finds dryness there, where ho was accustomed to fix the senses and draw forth sweetness— then the time is come. Butwhile he finds sweetness, and is able to meditate as usual, let him not cease therefrom, except when his soul is in peace, of which I shall speak when describing the third sign. 2. ii. When he sees that he has no inclination to fix the imagination or the senses on particular objects, exterior or interior. I do not mean when the imagination neither comes nor goes — for it is disorderly even in the most complete self-recollection — but only when the soul derives no pleasure from tying it down deliberately to other matters. 3. iii. The third sign is the most certain of the three, namely, when the soul delights to be alone, waiting lovingly on God, without any particular considerations, in interior peace, quiet, and repose, when the acts and exercises of the understanding, memory, and will, at least discursively — which is the going from one subject to another— have ceased; nothing remaining except that knowledge and attention, general and loving, of which I have spoken, without the particular perception of aught else.

4. The spiritual man must have observed these three signs together, at least, before he can venture with safety to abandon the state of meditation for that of the way of spiritual contemplation. It is not enough for him to . observe the first without the second, for it may happen that he cannot meditate on the things of God, as before, because of distractions and the absence of due preparation. He must therefore have regard to the second sign, and see whether he has no inclination or desire to think of other things. For when this inability to fix the imagination and the senses on the things of God proceeds from distraction or lukewarmness, the soul readily inclines to other matters, and these lead it away from 6. Neither is it sufficient to have observed the first and $$cond sign if we do not also discern the third. For though we cannot meditate or think on the things of God, and have no pleasure either in dwelling upon anything else ; yet this may be the effect of melancholy or some other oppression of the brain or the heart, which is wont to produce a certain suspension of our faculties, so that we think upon nothing, nor desire to do so, nor have any inclination thereto, but rather remain in a kind of soothing astonishment. By way of defence against this, we must be sure of the third sign, which is a loving knowledge and attention in peace, as I have said. It is, however, true that in the commencement of this state this loving knowledge is, as it were, imperceptible, because it is then wont to be, in the first place, most subtile and delicate, and as it were, unfelt ; and because, in the second place, the soul, having been accustomed to

[chap, xiv] mount carmel. 121 meditation, which is more cognisable by sense, does not perceive, and, as it were, does not feel this new condition, not subject to sense, and which is purely spiritual. 6. This is the case especially when, through not understanding his condition, the spiritual man will not allow himself to rest therein, but will strive after that which is cognisable by sense. This striving, notwithstanding the abundance of loving interior peace, robs him of the sense and enjoyment of it. But the more the soul is disposed for this tranquillity, the more will it grow therein continually ; and the more conscious it will be of this general loving knowledge of God, which is sweeter to it than all besides, because it brings with it peace and rest, sweetness and delight without trouble. To make this matter more clear, I shall explain in the following chapter why these three signs are necessary for the direction of the soul.

The fitness of these signs. The necessity of observing them for spiritual progress. As to the first sign, it is to be observed that there are two reasons, comprised as it were in one, why the spiritual man—if he is to enter on the life of the spirit, which is that of contemplation — must abandon the way of the imagination and sensible meditation, when he has no pleasure in it and is no longer able to make his wonted reflection. The first is, that all the spiritual good to be found, by way of meditation in the things of God, has Jbeen already in a manner bestowed upon him. This is shown by the fact that he cannot now make his former meditations and reflections, and that he has no pleasure or satisfaction therein as he had before, because he had not then attained to the spiritual life. And, in general, whenever the soul receives a fresh spiritual grace it receives it with pleasure, at least in spirit, in the means whereby it comes, and it profits by it ; otherwise its profiting would be miraculous. This is in accordance with the philosophical saying, What is palatable nourishes; and also with the words of Job, 'Can an unsavoury thing be eaten that is not seasoned with salt ? '* The reason, then, why meditation is no longer possible, is the little pleasure and profit which the mind now derives from it.

2. The second reason is this : the soul has now attained substantially and habitually to the spirit of meditation. For the end of meditation and reflection on the things of God is to have the knowledge and the love of Him as its fruit. Each time this is done, it is an act, and as acts often repeated produce habits, so, many acts of loving knowledge continuously made by the soul, beget the habit thereof in the course of time. God is wont at times to effect this without these acts of meditation— at least without many of them — leading souls at once into the state of contemplation. Thus, what the soul obtained before, at intervals, by dint of meditation, in particular acts of knowledge, is now by practice converted into the habit and substance of knowledge, loving, general, not distinct, or particular, as before. And, therefore, such a soul betaking itself to prayer- like a man with water * lob vi 6# before him— drinks sweetly without effort, without the necessity of drawing it through the channel of previous reflections, forms, and figures. And the moment such a soul places itself in the presence of God, it makes an act of knowledge, confused, loving, peaceful, and tranquil, wherein it drinks in wisdom, love, and sweetness.

3. This is the reason why the soul is troubled and disgusted when compelled, in this state, to make meditations and to labour in particular acts of knowledge. Its condition, then, is like that of an infant at the breast, withdrawn from it while it was sucking it, and bidden to procure its nourishment by efforts of its own ; or of one who, having removed the rind, is, when tasting the fruit it contained, bidden to cease therefrom and to peel away the rind already removed, and then finds no rind and loses the fruit he had in his hand— like one who loses a prize already in his power. This is the case with many who have begun to enter upon this state. They think that the whole matter consists in discursive meditations, in the understanding of particulars by means of forms and images, which are the rind of the spiritual life. When they do not find these in that loving and substantial quiet, where the soul desires to dwell, and where nothing distinct reaches the understanding, they suppose themselves to be going astray, wasting their time, and so go in quest of the rind of images and discursive meditation, not now to be found, because long ago taken away. Thus they do not enjoy the substance, neither can they meditate ; and so they vex themselves, thinking that they are going backwards, and that they are lost. This is certainly true, but not in the way they

mean : they are lost to their own sense, to their first perceptions and understanding, which is nothing else but to gain the spiritual life which is given unto them ; for the less they understand, the further do they enter into the night of the spirit, through which they have to pass in order to be united with God, in a way that surpasses all understanding. 4. There is but little for me to say of the second sign, because it is evident that the soul has necessarily no pleasure at that time in other imaginary representations, those of the world, seeing that it has none, for the reasons already given, in those which are most befitting it, as those of the things of God. Only, as I have said before, the imaginative faculty, in this state of recollection, is wont to come, and go, and vary, but without the consent of the soul and without giving it any pleasure; yea, rather, the soul is then afflicted thereby, because of the interruption of its peace and sweetness. 5. Nor do I think it necessary here to speak at all of the fitness and necessity of the third sign, whereby we may discern when we are to cease from meditation. That sign is a knowledge of, and attention to, God, general and loving. I have explained this in some degree while speaking of the first sign ; and I have to treat of it again directly,* when I speak of that general, confused knowledge, after discussing the particular apprehensions of the understanding. But I propose now to mention one reason only, which will make it clear why this attention, or general loving knowledge of God, is necessary, when

• Bk. xi, ch. xxxil fcHAP. XIV.] OF MOUNT CARMEL. 124 the spiritual man passes from the state of meditation to that of contemplation. 6. That reason is this : if the soul were without this knowledge or sense of God's presence at that time, the result would be that it would have nothing, and do nothing ; for having ceased from meditation, wherein the soul acts discursively, by means of the senses — and contemplation not yet attained to, which is that general knowledge, 'wherein the spiritual powers of the soul, memory, understanding, and will, are exerted, and united in this knowledge, which is as it were effected and received in them — every act of the worship of God must of necessity fail ; for the soul cannot act at all, nor receive impressions, nor persevere in the work it has before it, but in the way of these two powers of sense and spirit. It is by the bodily senses that the soul is able to reflect, search out, and effect the knowledge of things ; and by the spiritual sense to rejoice in the knowledge thus attained without further labour, search, or reflection. The difference between these two conditions of the soul is like the difference between working, and enjoyment of the fruit of our work ; between receiving a gift, and profiting by it ; between the toil of travelling, and the rest at our journey's end ; between the preparation of our food, and the eating or enjoyment of it. If the soul be idle, not occupied, either with its bodily faculties in meditation and reflection, or with its spiritual faculties in contemplation and pure knowledge, it is impossible to say that it is occupied at all. This knowledge is therefore necessary for the abandonment of the way of meditation and reflection.

7. But it is to be remembered that this general knowledge, of which I am speaking, is at times so subtle and delicate— particularly when most pure, simple, perfect, spiritual, and interior— that the soul, though in the practice thereof, is not observant or conscious of it. This is the case when that knowledge is most pure, clear, and simple, which it is when it enters into a soul most pure and detached from all other acts of knowledge and special perceptions, to which the understanding or the sense may cling. Such a soul, because freed from all those things which were actually and habitually objects of the understanding or of the sense, is not aware of them, because the accustomed objects of sense have failed it. This is the reason why this knowledge, when most pure, perfect, and simple, is the less perceived by the understanding, and is the most obscure. On the other hand, when this knowledge is less pure and simple the more clear and the more important it seems to the understanding; because it is mixed up with, clothed in, or involved in, certain intelligible forms, of which the understanding most easily takes cognisance, to its hurt.

8. The following comparison will make this plain enough. When the rays of the sun penetrate through a crevice into a dark room, the air in which is full of atoms and particles of dust, they are then more palpable, and more visible to the eye ; and yet those rays are then less pure, simple, and perfect, because mixed up with so much impurity : also, when they are most pure and most free from dust, the less are they cognisable by the material eye ; and the more pure they are the less are they seen and considered. If, again, these rays were altogether pure, clear of every atom, and of the minutest particle of dust, they would be utterly invisible, by reason of the absence of all objects whereon the eye could rest ; for pure and simple light is not properly the object of vision, but the means whereby we discern visible things ; and so, if there be no visible objects present to reflect the light, nothing can be seen. Hence, then, a ray of light entering in by one crevice and going out by another, unaffected by any material object, cannot be seen ; and yet that ray is more pure and clear than when it is most distinctly seen through being mixed up with visible objects.

9. Such are the conditions of the spiritual light with regard to the eye of the soul, which is the understanding, against which this knowledge and supernatural light strikes so purely and so plainly. So clear is it of all intelligible forms, which are the adequate objects of the understanding, that the understanding is not conscious of its presence. Sometimes, indeed — when it is most pure— it creates darkness, because it withdraws the understanding from its accustomed lights, forms, and fantasies, and then the darkness becomes palpable and visible. 10. At other times, also, the divine light strikes the soul with such force that the darkness is unfelt and the light unheeded ; the soul seems unconscious of all it knows, and is therefore lost, as it were, in forgetfulness, knowing not where it is, nor what has happened to it, unaware of the lapse of time. It may and does occur that many hours pass while it is in this state of forgetfulness ; all seem but a moment when it again returns to itself. The cause of this forgetfulness is the pureness and simplicity of this knowledge, which, being itself pure and clear, cleanses the soul while it fills it, and purifies it of all the apprehensions and forms of sense and memory through which it once acted, and thus brings it to a state ot forgetfulness, and unconsciousness of the flight of time. This prayer of the soul, though in reality long, seems to last but for a moment, because it is an act of pure intelligence ;

for it is that prayer which is said to c pierce the clouds,'* time being unheeded while it lasts : it pierces the clouds because the soul is then in union with the heavenly Intelligence. This knowledge leaves behind it in the soul, when awake, all the effects it then wrought, without any consciousness on the part of the soul that they were wrought. These effects are the lifting up of the soul to the heavenly Intelligence, the withdrawal and estrangement of it from all things, and from the forms and figures of them.

11. Thus it befel David, who, when he returned to himself, said, ' I have watched, and am become as the lonely sparrow on the housetop.' t 'Lonely' expresses his estrangement and detachment from all things ; and the 1 housetop ' the lifting up of the soul on high. The soul is now, as it were, ignorant of all things, because it knows God only, without knowing how. The bride also speaks of this ignorance as one of the effects of this sleep or forgetfulness, saying, * I knew not :'+ that is, I know not how. Though he to whose soul is given this knowledge seems to be doing nothing and to be wholly • Ecclus. xxxv. 21. Oratio humiliantis se nubcs pcnctratit. t Pi. ci. S. ♦ Cant. vi. 1 1. unoccupied, because the imagination has ceased to act, he still believes that the time has not been lost or uselessly spent : for though the harmonious correspondence of the powers of the soul has ceased, the understanding thereof abides as I say. The bride in her wisdom answers herself this question, when she says, 4 1 sleep, and my heart watcheth : ' * though I sleep in my natural state, and cease from all exertion, my heart watcheth supernaturally, lifted up in supernatural knowledge. A sign by which we may discern whether the soul is occupied in this secret intelligence is, that it has no pleasure in the thought of anything high or low.

12. Still we are not to suppose that this knowledge necessarily induces this forgetfulness ; the reality of it does not depend on this. This forgetfulness occurs when God in a special way suspends the faculties of the soul. This does not often occur, for this knowledge does not always fill the whole soul. It is sufficient for the purpose that the understanding should be withdrawn from all particular knowledge, whether temporal or spiritual, and that the will should have no inclination to dwell upon either. This sign serves to show that the soul is in this state of forgetfulness, when this knowledge is furnished and communicated to the understanding only. But when it is communicated to the will also, which is almost always the case in a greater or less degree, the soul cannot but see, if it will reflect thereon, that it is occupied by this knowledge ; because it is then conscious of the sweetness of love therein, without any particular knowledge or perception of what It loves * Cant. t. 3. 13. This is the reason why this knowledge is called loving and general ; for as it communicates itself obscurely to the understanding, so also to the will, infusing therein love and sweetness confusedly, without the soul's knowing distinctly the object of its love. Let this suffice to show how necessary it is for the soul to be occupied by this knowledge, in order that it may leave the way of meditation, and to feel assured, notwithstanding the appearance of doing nothing, that it is well employed, if it discerns the signs of which I am speaking.

It appears, also, from the illustration drawn from the shining of the sun's rays, full of atoms, that the soul is not to imagine this light to be then most pure, subtile, and clear, when it presents itself to the understanding more palpably and more comprehensibly. For it is certain, according to Aristotle and theologians, that the more pure and sublime the divine light is, the more obscure it is to our understanding.

14. I have much to say of this divine knowledge, both as it is in itself, and in its effects upon contemplatives; but I reserve it for its proper place. The present discussion would not have been so long had it not been requisite that the subject should be left in somewhat less confusion than it is at present, which I must admit to be the case. Over and above the fact that this subject is rarely treated in this way, whether in writing or by word of mouth, because it is in itself strange and obscure, comes also my poor method and little knowledge. I am without confidence in my own capacity to explain it, and therefore .gfpjv prolix and wearisome, exceeding the just limits required for the explanation of this division of the subject. I admit that I have done this occasionally on purpose ; for a subject that cannot be explained by one view of it may be by another ; and only because I consider that I have in this way thrown more light on what is to foliow. For this reason, in order to conclude this part of the subject, I think I ought to solve one question concerning the duration of this knowledge, which I propose to do in the following chapter. .

Of the occasional necessity of meditating and exerting the natural faculties on the part of those who begin to enter on the contemplative state. Here it may be asked, whether proficients, those whom God has begun to lead into this supernatural knowledge of contemplation, are, in virtue of this commencement, never again to return to the way of meditation, reflections, and natural forms ? To this I answer, that it is not to be supposed that those who have begun to have this pure and loving knowledge are never to meditate again or attempt it. For in the beginning of their advancement the habit of this is not so perfect as that they should be able at pleasure to perform the acts of it. Neither are they so far advanced beyond the state of meditation as to be unable to meditate and make their reflections as before, and to find therein something new. Yea, rather, at first, when we see, by the help of these signs, that our soul is not occupied in this quiet, or knowledge, it will be necessary to have recourse to reflections, until we attain to the habit of it in some degree of perfection. Such will

be the case when, as often as we apply ourselves to meditation, the soul reposes in this peaceful knowledge, without the power or the inclination to meditate: because, until we arrive at this, sometimes one, sometimes the other, occurs in this time of proficiency in such a way that very often the soul finds itself in this loving 01 peaceful attendance upon God, with all its faculties in repose; and very often also will find it necessary, fox that end, to have recourse to meditation, calmly and with moderation. But when this state is attained to, meditation ceases, and the faculties labour no more ; fox then we may rather say, that intelligence and sweetness are wrought in the soul, and ,that it itself abstains from every effort, except only that it attends lovingly upon (rod, without any desire to feel or see anything further than to be in the hands of God, Who now communicates Himself to the soul, thus passive, as the light of the sun to him whose eyes are open. But we must take care, ii we wish to receive in pureness and abundance this divine light, that no other lights of knowledge, or forms, or figures of meditations, of a more palpable kind, intervene, for nothing ot this kind bears any resemblance to that serene and clear light. And, therefore, if at that time we seek to apprehend and reflect on particular objects, however spiritual they may be, we shall obstruct the pure and limpid light of the Spirit, by interposing these clouds before us, as a man who should place anything before his eyes impedes the vision of things beyond.

2. It appears, then, from all this that the soul, when it shall have purified and emptied itself from all these intelligible forms and images, will then dwell in this pure and simple light, transformed thereto in the state of perfection. This light is ever ready to be communicated to the soul, but does not flow in, because of the forms and veils of the creature which infold and embarrass the soul. Take away these hindrances and coverings, as I shall hereafter explain, and the soul in detachment and poverty of spirit will then, being pure and simple, be transformed in the pure and sincere divine Wisdom who is the Son of God. For then that which is natural having failed, that which is divine flows supernaturally into the enamoured soul ; for God leaves it not empty without filling it 3. When the spiritual man is unable to meditate, let him learn to remain in loving attention to God, in the quiet of his understanding, though he may seem to be doing nothing. For thus by little and little, and most rapidly, will the divine tranquillity and peace, from this marvellous and deep knowledge of God, involved in the divine love, be infused into his soul. Let him not meddle with forms, imagery, meditations, or reflections of any kind, that he may not disquiet his soul, and drag it out of its peace and contentment into that which can only end in bitterness. And if this inactivity should be a cause of scruples, let him remember that it is not a slight matter to possess our soul in peace and rest, without effort or desire. This is what our Lord requires at our hands, saying, ' Be still, and see that I am God.'* Learn to be interiorly empty of all things, and you will see with delight that I am God,

Of imaginary apprehensions supernaturally represented to the fancy. They cannot be proximate means of union with And now having treated of those impressions which the soul receives in the order of nature, and which exercise the imagination and the fancy, it is necessary to discuss those which are supernatural, called imaginary visions, and which also, inasmuch as they are images, forms, and figures, appertain to sense, like those which are in the order of nature. Under the designation of imaginary visions, I include everything which may be supernaturally represented to the imagination by images, forms, figures, or impressions, and these of the most perfect kind, which represent things, and influence us more vividly and more perfectly than it is possible in the natural order of the senses. For all these impressions and images which the five senses represent to the soul, and which establish themselves within it in a natural way, may also have their place there in a way that is supernatural, represented therein without any intervention whatever on the part of the outward senses. The sense of fancy and memory is, as it were, a storehouse of the understanding, where all forms and objects are treasured up ; and thus the understanding considers them and forms judgments about them.

2. We must, therefore, remember that as the five outward senses propose and represent to the interior senses the images and pictures of their objects; so in a super- natural way, without the intervention of the outward senses, may be represented the same images and pictures, and that much more vividly and perfectly. And thus by means of images God frequently shows many things to the soul, and teaches it wisdom, as we see throughout the Holy Scriptures. He showed His glory in the cloud which covered the tabernacle;* and between the seraphim which covered their faces and their feet with their wings. t To Jeremias He showed 'a rod watching;'? and to Daniel a multitude of visions. 3. The devil, also, with visions of his own, seemingly good, labours to delude the soul. We have an instance of it in the history of the kings of Israel, where we read that he deceived the prophets of Achab, by representing to them the figure of horns, by which the king was to push Syria till he destroyed it.§ Yet, all was a delusion. Such also was the vision of Pilate's wife concerning the condemnation of Christ, and many others. 4. In the case of those who have made some spiritual progress, visions of the imagination are of more frequent occurrence than bodily and exterior visions. There is no difference between them and those of the outward senses, considered as images and representations ; but there is a great difference in the effect they produce, and in their perfectness: they are more pure, and make a deeper impresssion on the soul, inasmuch as they are supernatural and at the same time more interior than the exterior supernatural visions, still, notwithstanding, some bodily exterior visions produce a greater effect, for

♦ Exod. xL 33. t Is. vi. 2. t Jer. L It, $3 King* xx" "* I2* this depends on the will of God ; but I am speaking of them as they are in themselves, as being more interior. 5. The sense of fancy and imagination is ordinarily that to which the devil applies himself with all his cunning, because it is the portal of the soul, and there too the understanding takes up, or leaves, its wares as in a storehouse. For this reason, therefore, God and the devil too come hither with images .and forms to be presented to the understanding; though God does not make use only of this means to teach the soul, seeing that He dwells substantially within it, and is able to do so directly by Himself, and by other methods. I shall not stop here to explain how it may be known whether certain visions are from God or not, for that is not my object now, my sole purpose being to direct the understanding, so that, in the way of union with the divine wisdom, it shall not be embarrassed or hindered by those which are good, nor deluded by those which are evil.

6. I say, therefore, with respect to all these impressions and imaginary visions, and others of whatever kind they may be, which present themselves under forms or images, or any particular intelligible forms, whether false as coming from the devil, or known to be true as coming from God, that the understanding is not to perplex itself about them, nor feed itself upon them ; the soul must not willingly accept them, nor rest upon them, in order that it may be detached, naked, pure, and sincerely simple, which is the condition of the divine union. The reason of this is that all these forms are never represented so as to be laid hold of but undejr certain ways and limitations ; and the divine wisdom to which the understanding is to be united admits of no such limitations or forms, neither can it be comprehended under any particular image, because it is all pureness and simplicity. However, if two extremes are to be united together, such as the soul and the divine wisdom, it is necessary that they should meet under a certain kind of mutual resemblance ; and hence the soul must be also pure and simple, not limited, not adhering to any particular intelligence, and unmodified by any forms, figures, or image. God is not comprehended under any

form, or likeness, or particular conception, so the soul also, if it is to be united to Him, must not be under the power of any particular form or conception. God has no form or likeness, as the Holy Ghost tells us : i You heard the voice of His words, but you saw not any form at all/ * But he also says, i That there was darkness, and a cloud, and obscurity/ 1 which is the dark night in which the soul is united to God. He says further on, ' You saw not any similitude in the day that the Lord God spoke to you in Horeb from the midst of the fire.'J 7. The soul can never attain to the height of the divine union, so far as it is possible in this life, through the medium of any forms or figures. This truth is set before us by the same Spirit of God in the book of Numbers, where we read of the rebuking of Aaron and Mary, because they had murmured against their brother. God then would have them understand the high estate of union and friendship with Himself to which He had raised Moses. ' If there be among you/ said God, ' a prophet

• Peut. iv. 1$. f lb. it. ii, X lb. iv, 15. of the Lord, I will appear to him in a vision, or I will speak to him in a dream ; but it is not so with My servant Moses who is most faithful in all My house, for I speak to him mouth to mouth and plainly, and not by riddles and figures doth he see the Lord.'* It is evident from this, that in the high state of the union of love, God does not communicate Himself to the soul under the disguise of imaginary visions, similitudes, or figures, neither is there place for such, but mouth to mouth ; that is, it is in the pure and naked essence of God, which is as it were the mouth of God in love, that He communicates Himself to the pure and naked essence of the soul, through the will which is the mouth of the soul in the love of God. 8. The soul, therefore, that will ascend to this perfect union with God, must be careful not to lean upon imaginary visions, forms, figures, and particular intelligible objects, for these things can never serve as proportionate or proximate means towards so great an end ; yea, rather they are an obstacle in the way, and therefore to be guarded against and rejected. For if in any case we are to admit these visions and esteem them, that must be for the profit and good effects of true visions in the soul ;

but it is not necessary, to secure these good effects, that we should admit the visions ; yea, rather it is always necessary to reject them that we may profit the more by them. The fruit df these imaginary visions, and also of the exterior bodily visions, is the communication of knowledge, love, or sweetness, but it is not necessary for this result that we should admit them willingly. For as I have already said, when tftese visions

• Nura, xil 6, 7, 8. are present to the imagination they infuse into the soul that knowledge, love, or sweetness, according to the good pleasure of God; and thus the soul passively receives their quickening effects without being able on its own part to hinder them any more than it could acquire them, notwithstanding its previous efforts to dispose itself for that end. 9. The soul in some respects resembles a window which cannot repel the rays of the sun striking against it, but which is disposed for the reception thereof, and is passively illuminated thereby, without care or effort on its own part. Thus the soul cannot but receive the inflowing and communications of these representations, becau§e the will negatively disposed, cannot, in its state of humble and loving resignation, resist the supernatural influence ; though, no doubt, its impureness and imperfections are a hindrance, as stains on the glass obscure the light. 10. It is clear from this, then, that the soul, the more it is detached in will and affections from the stains of impressions, images, and representations, in which the spiritual communications are involved, not only does not deprive itself of these communications, and the blessings of which they are the cause, but is thereby the more disposed for their reception, and that in greater abundance, clearness, liberty of spirit, and singleness of mind; all the impressions, veils, and shadows, which hide the deeper spirituality within, being cast aside. If we feed upon them, sense and spirit are so filled, that spiritual communication cannot freely and in simplicity be made to us ; for while we are occupied with the outer

covering, the understanding is not free to receive the substance within. If the soul will admit, and make much of, these impressions, the result will be embarrassment, and resting satisfied with that which of the least importance in them, namely, with all that it can grasp and and comprehend, the form, the representation, and the particular conception. The chief part of them, the spiritual part infused, eludes its grasp, and is beyond its comprehension; the soul cannot discern or explain it, because it is wholly spiritual. That only can it perceive which is of least value, namely the sensible forms which are within the reach of its own understanding; and for this cause I maintain that the soul, passively, without any intellectual effort, and without knowing how to make any such effort, receives through these visions what it can neither understand nor imagine. 11. Forthese reasons, therefore, the eyes of the soul must be continually turned aside from these visible and distinctly intelligible things, communicated through the senses, which form neither the foundation nor the security of faith, and be fixed on the invisible, not on the things of sense but on those of the Spirit which are not cognisable by sense ; for it is this that lifts up the soul to union in faith which is the proper medium. And thus these visions will subsequently profit the soul in the attainment of faith when it shall have perfectly renounced all that sense and the understanding find in them ; and when it shall have duly applied itself to that end which God had in view when He sent them, by detaching itself from them. Because, as I have said before of bodily

visions, God does not send them that the soul may admit them and set its affections upon them. 12. But here arises this doubt ; if it be true that these supernatural visions are sent from God, not for the purpose of being received, clung to, and prized by the soul, why then are they sent at all, seeing that they are the source of many errors and dangers, and are at least inconveniences, hindering our * further advancement ? God being able to communicate spiritually to the very substance of the soul that which He thus communicates through the senses in visions and sensible forms. 13. I shall reply to this doubt in the following chapter. The doctrine on this subject is most important, and in my opinion exceedingly necessary as well for spiritual persons as for those who have the direction of them. I shall therein explain the way of God in them, and the end He has in view, the ignorance of which renders many unable to control* themselves, or to guide others through these visions along the road of union. They imagine, the moment they have ascertained the visions to be true and from God, that they may lean upon them and cleave to them ; not considering that the soul will find in them that which is natural to itself, that it will set its affections upon them and be embarrassed by them, as by the things of this world, if it does not repel them as it repels these. In this state of mind they will think it right to accept the visions, and to reject worldly things, thereby exposing themselves and the souls they direct to great dangers and vexations in discerning the truth or falsehood of these visions. God does not bid them to undertake this labour or to expose simple and

sincere souls to this hazard ; for He has given them the sound and safe teaching of the faith, whereby to direct their steps, which cannot be followed without shutting our eyes against every object of sense, and of clear and particular perception. St. Peter was perfectly certain of that vision of glory which he saw when our Lord was transfigured, yet after relating it, he bids us walk by faith, saying, ' We hav^the more firm prophetical word : whereunto you do well to attend, as to a light that shineth in a dark place.'* This comparison involves the doctrine which I am teaching. For in saying that we should look to faith of which the prophets spoke, as to a light that shineth in a dark place, he bids us remain in darkness, shutting our eyes to all other light, and tells us that this darkness of faith, which is also obscure, ought to be the only light to which we should trust. For if we rely on other lights, clear and distinct, of the understanding, we have ceased to rely on the obscurity of faith, which has therefore ceased to shine in the dark place, as the Apostle speaks. This place is the understanding, which is the candlestick to hold the light of faith. In this life, the understanding must therefore be in darkness until the day of our transformation and union with Him, towards Whom the soul is travelling ; or until the day of the clear vision of God shall have dawned in the life to come.

Of the ends and way of God in communicating spiritual blessings to the soul through the senses. Answer to the question proposed. I HAVE much to say of the end which God has in view, and of the ways He employs, when He sends visions to raise up the soul from its lukewarmness to the divine union with Himself. This is treated of in all spiritual books, and I shall therefore confine myself here to the solution of the question before us. That question is this : Why does God Who is most wise, and ever ready to remove every snare and every stumbling-block from before us, send us these supernatural visions, seeing that they are so full *f danger, and so perplexing to us in our further progress ? 2. To answer this we have three principles to take for granted. The first is thus expressed by St. Paul: 'Those that are, are ordained of God.'* That is, all that is done is done according to the ordinance of God. The second is expressed by the Holy Ghost saying of wisdom that it ' ordereth all things sweetly.' t The third is an axiom of theology, God moveth all things in harmony with their constitution.* According to these principles, then, it it evident that God, when He raises the soul from the depths of its own vileness to the opposite heights of His own dignity in union with Himself, worketh orderly, sweetly, and in harmony with the constitution of the soul. As the process by which the

• Rom. xiii. I. t Wisd. viii. I. t Dens omnia movet secundum modum eorum. soul acquires knowledge rests on the forms and images or created things, and as the mode of its understanding and perception is that of the senses, it follows that God, in order to raise it up to the highest knowledge, orderly and sweetly, must begin with the lower senses, that He may thus raise it up in harmony with its constitution to the supreme wisdom of the Spirit which is not cognisable by sense. For this reason he' leads the soul first of all through forms, images, and sensible ways, proportionate to its capacity, whether natural or supernatural, and through reflections, upwards to His own supreme Spirit. This is the cause of His sending visions and imaginary forms, and other sensible and intelligible means of knowledge. Not because he could not in an instant communicate the substance of the Spirit, provided that the two extremes, the human and divine, that is, sense and spirit, were ordinarily able to meet together, and to be united in a single act, without the previous intervention of many disposing acts, which orderly and sweetly concur together, one being the foundation and the preparation for the other, as in natural operations where the first subserves the second, that the next, and so onwards. Thus the way in which God leads man to perfection is the way of his natural constitution, raising him up from what is vile and exterior to that which is interior and noble.

3. In the first place He perfects him in the bodily senses, moving him to make a right use of good things which in themselves are natural, perfect, and exterior ; such as hearing mass and sermons, veneration of holy things, mortification of the appetite at meals, the maceratior of the body by penance, and the chastening of tjie sense of touch by holy austerities. And when die senses are in some measure prepared, God is wont to perfect them still more by granting them certain supernatural favours and consolations that they may be confirmed the more in goodness. He sends to them certain supernatural communications, such as visions of saints or of holy things in bodily form, delicious odours, locutions accompanied by a pure and singular sweetness, whereby the very senses are greatly strengthened in virtue and withdrawn from the desire of evil things. Besides, He perfects also the interior bodily senses, of which I am now speaking, the imagination and the fancy, at the same time, and accustoms them to good, through considerations, meditations, and holy reflections, according to the ipeasure of their capacity, and in all this teaches and informs the mind. And when the interior senses are disposed by this natural exercise, God is wont to enlighten them, and to spiritualise them, more and more, through the instrumentality of certain supernatural visions, which I have called imaginary; from which the mind at the same time derives great profit, and through the interior and exterior visions casts off its natural rudeness and becomes by degrees refined.

4. This is the way God raises the soul step by step to that which is interior. Not that it is necessary for Him to observe this order and succession of progress, for He occasionally effects one degree without the other, as he sees it expedient for a particular soul, and as it pleases Him to dispense His graces ; still His ordinary way is 4s I have said. This is the ordinary method of God ^146 THE ASCENT [BOOK n.] in teaching and spiritualising the soul ; He begins by communicating to it spiritual things through things outward^ palpable, and appropriate to sense, condescending to its weakness and the slight measure of its powers; so that through the veil of exterior objects, in themselves good, the mind, forming particular acts, and receiving such portions of the spiritual communication, may acquire the habit of spirituality and attain to the substance of the Spirit, to which sense is a stranger, and which the soul could never reach but by little and little in its own way, through the senses, on which it has always rested. And thus in proportion as it approaches spirituality in its converse with God, does it detach itself from, and empty itself of, the ways of sense, that is, o£ reflections, meditation, and imagination. And when it shall have attained perfectly to converse in spirit with God, it must of necessity have emptied itself of all that relates to that converse which falls under the cognisance of sense.

6. Thus, when an object is attracted to one extreme, the more it recedes from the other the nearer it approaches ; and when it shall have completely reached the point to which it tends, it will then be completely withdrawn from the other. This is the spiritual maxim so generally known : Gustato Spiritu, desipit omnis caro. When we have tasted the sweetness of the Spirit, all that is flesh becomes insipid ; that is, it profits us no more, and the ways of sense are no longer pleasing. This maxim refers to all the ways in which sense may be employed about spiritual things. This is evident: for if a thing be spiritual it falls not under the cognisance of the senses, and it it be such as is comprehensible by sense, then is it no longer purely spiritual. For the more anything is comprehended by sense and our natural perceptions, the less it has of the Spirit and of the supernatural. 6. The spiritual man, therefore, having attained to perfection, makes no account of sense, receives nothing through it, does not avail himself of it, neither has he any need of it in his converse with God, as before, when he had not received the increase of the Spirit. This is the meaning of St. Paul when he said to the Corinthians: * When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child.

But when I became a man, I put away the things of a child/* I have already said that the objects of sense and the knowledge which results from them are the occupations of 3. child. That soul which ever clings to these, and which never detaches itself from them, will never cease to be a child; as a child will it always speak, understand, and think of God, because relying on the outward veil of the senses which is childish, it will never attain to the substance of the Spirit, which is the perfect man. And so the soul ought not to admit revelations, with a view to its own spiritual growth, even though God should send them; for the infant must abandon the breasts if it is to become accustomed to more solid and substantial food.

7. Is it necessary then, you will ask, that the soul, in its spiritual infancy, should accept these revelations, and abandon them when it has grown ; for the infant must seek its nourishment at the breast to be able to leave it 0 when the time is come ? My answer is, that with regard * I Cor. xiii. 1 1. to meditation and natural reflections, through which the soul begins its search after God, it must not, it is true, abandon the breast of the interior senses, to support itself, until the time has come when it may do so. That time is come when God raises the soul to a more spiritual converse with Himself, which is contemplation, and of that I spoke in the eleventh chapter of this book. Still I maintain that these imaginary visions or other supernatural impressions, to which the senses are subject without the assent of the will, are, upon all occasions and at all times, whether in the perfect or less perfect state, and notwithstanding their coming from God, not to be sought after, nor dwelt upon by the soul ; and this for two reasons :— 8. First, because these visions produce their effects passively in the soul, without its being able on its own part to hinder them, though it may do something towards hindering the manner of the vision; consequently the secondary effects which it is intended to produce are much more substantially wrought, though not in that way. For in renouncing them with humility and fear, there is neither imperfection nor selfishness, but rather disinterestedness and emptiness of self, which is the best disposition for union with God.

9. Secondly, because we are thereby delivered from the risk and labour of discerning between good and bad visions, and of ascertaining whether the angel of light or of darkness is at hand. The attempt to do so is not profitable at all, but rather waste of time, an occasion of many imperfections and delay on the spiritual journey. That is not the way to direct a soul in matters which are of real importance, nor to relieve it of the vexation ot trifles which are involved in particular apprehensions and perceptions, as I have said with respect to bodily visions and to those of the imagination, and as I shall have to say again. Believe me, our Lord would never have communicated the abundance of the Spirit through these channels, so narrow, of forms and figures and particular perceptions, by which, as if by crumbs, He sustains the soul, if He had not to raise up that soul to Himself in the way appropriate to its constitution. This is the meaning of the Psalmist when he said : ' He sendeth His crystal like morsels.'* The wisdom of God is His crystal. How sad it is that the soul, whose capacity is as it were infinite, should be fed by morsels through the senses, because of its want of generosity, and because of its sensual weakness. St. Paul also saw with grief this littleness of mind and absence of good spiritual dispositions, when he said to the Corinthians : € And I, brethren, could not speak to you as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal. As unto little ones in Christ, I gave you milk to drink, not meat : for you were not able as yet. But neither indeed are you now able, for you are yet carnal.'t

10. Let us, then, keep in mind that the soul must not regard these figures and objects, which are but the rind, when supernaturally set before it; whether occurring through the exterior senses, as voices and words in the ear, visible visions of the saints and beautiful lights, odours to the smell, sweetness to the palate, and other delectations of the touch, which are wont to proceed # Pg. cxlvii. 17. t 1 Cor. iii. 1, s. from the Spirit ; or through the interior senses as the interior imaginary visions. These things the soul must hot regard : yea, rather it must renounce them wholly, they effect, labouring to preserve it in good works, and employing itself in that which is purely for the service of God without reference to these visions, and without seeking for sensible sweetness. In this way we shall reap from these visions that fruit only which God intends and wills, a spirit of devotion, for that is the chief end, and none other, for which He sfends them ; and we shall also pass by that which He too would have passed by, if we could without it, namely, the usage and appliance of sense, have received the blessings He intends to confer.

How souls are injured because their spiritual directors do not guide them aright amid these visions. How these visions, though from God, become occasions of error. I CANNOT be so concise with respect to visions as I desire, because of the abundance of the matter. And therefore, though I have said enough, in substance, for the instruction of the spiritual man ; how he is to order himself when visions occur, and also for the spiritual director who guides him, how he is to demean himself with his penitent : I think it not superfluous to enter further into the details of this doctrine, and to bring into clearer light the evils that may happen to the penitent on the one hand, and his director on the other, should they be having its eyes fixed on that spiritual good alone which

too credulous in the matter of visions, even if those visions come from God. What leads me to enlarge upon this subject, is the little discretion which, I think, I have observed among certain spiritual directors, who, having too great a reliance on these supernatural impressions, because they have ascertained them to be good and from God, have fallen, together with their penitents, into great errors, and involved themselves in many difficulties; thereby verifying the words of our Lord, c If the blind lead the blind, both fall into the pit.' * 2. Our Lord does not say they shall fall, but they fall : for it is not necessary for such a fall that it should be one of manifest delusion; the fall is complete in the venturing upon such a mode of direction, and thus, at least, both the director and the penitent fall together. There are some spiritual directors who fall at once into error, because their instructions to those, who are liable • to visions, are such as to lead them astray or perplex them with regard to their visions ; or they do not direct them in the way of humility. They suffer their penitents to make much of their visions, which is the reason why they walk not according to the pure and perfect spirit of faith; neither do they build them up nor strengthen them in faith, while they attach so much importance to these visions.

3. This kind of direction shows that they themselves consider visions matters of importance ; and their penitents, observing this, follow their example, dwelling upon these visions, not building themselves up in faith ; * St. Matt. xv. 14. neither do they withdraw, nor detach themselves ftqth them, so that they may take their flight upwards in the obscurity of faith. All this results from the language and conduct of spiritual directors ; for somehow, a certain sense of satisfaction which is not in our control arises from these things, and withdraws our eyes from the abyss of faith. The reason why this so easily takes place, must be that the soul is so occupied with them, for inasmuch as they are objects of sense, to which we are naturally inclined, and as we have had experience of them, and are disposed for the apprehension of things distinct and sensible ; it is enough to see our confessor or any other person appreciate them, to induce us not only to do the same, but also to indulge our desire for them, to feed upon them unconsciously, to be more and. more inclined to them, and to hold them in greater estimation.

4. This kind of direction is, at least, a source of many Imperfections, for the soul is no longer humble, but thinks itself to be something good, and that God makes much of it ; and so it goes on contented and satisfied with itself, which is contrary to humility. The devil also at once applies himself in secret to foster this feeling, while the seta! is not aware of it, and suggests to it thoughts about other people, whether they have had visions or not, or whether they are or are not such as they seem to be: all this is contrary to holy simplicity and spiritual solitude. These evils they cannot avoid, because they do not grow. in faith. Besides, if souls do not fell into evils as palpable as these, they fall into others of a more subtle nature, and more hateful in the eyes of God, simply because they are not living in detachment. 5. For the present, I shall pursue this subject no further, as I shall have to resume it when I have to treat of spiritual gluttony, and the other six capital vices.* Then, indeed, I shall have much to say of these minute and subtle stains, which defile the mind because of the failure of true direction in detachment. I shall now speak of the method of direction observed by some whose guidance of souls is not good. I wish I could do this well ; for in truth, it is a difficult thing to explain how the mind of the penitent becomes secretly conformed to that of his director. It appears to me that we cannot understand the one without understanding the other. Moreover, as they are spiritual things, the one corresponds with the other.

6 It seems to me — and I believe it to be true — that, if the spiritual director be a man who has a weakness for revelations, who is impressed by them, and feels in them a sort of pleasurable satisfaction, he must communicate, without intending it, the same feelings to the mind of his penitent, unless the latter be more advanced in spirituality than he is himself. But even if that be the case, he must do his penitent grievous harm if he continues to direct him. Out of this weakness of the director for revelations, and his satisfaction in them, arises a certain kind of appreciation of them, which, without the utmost care on his part, he cannot but make manifest to his penitent ; and if the penitent have the same inclina- * Bk. iii., ch. lx., and more fully in Park Night of the Soul, Bk. i. tion, in my opinion this weakness will be increased in both by their mutual intercourse. 7. I will not enter into minute details on this subject, and will therefore speak of a director, who, whether having a weakness for visions or not, is not so cautious in his relations with his penitent as he ought to be, so as to relieve him of his embarrassments, and detach him in desire from these visions; but who on the contrary converses with him on the subject, and makes it the chief matter of his spiritual instructions, teaching him how to distinguish between good visions and evil ones.

Though this knowledge be good, yet is it not right to inflict on the penitent the labour, anxiety, and danger which it involves, unless in a case of pressing necessity ; seeing that by giving no heed to them all this is avoided, and everything done that ought to be done. This is not all ; for some directors, when they see that their penitents have visions from God, bid them pray to Him, to reveal to them such and such things concerning themselves or others, and the simple souls obey them, thinking it lawful to seek information in that way. They suppose it lawful to desire, and even to pray for, a revelation, because it is the good pleasure of God to reveal something to them in a supernatural way, in a particular manner or for a particular end. And if God grants to them their petition, they become more and more confident on other occasions, and imagine God to be pleased with this mode of conversing with Him ; when in truth it is not pleasing to Him, and contrary to His will. And if they are much given to this mode of conversing with God, they attach themselves to it, and the will

acquiesces naturally in it ; for is this naturally pleases them, they also naturally fall down to the level of their own perceptions, and frequently err in what they say : and when they see that events have not answered their expectations they are astonished; and doubts assail them as to whether their visions were from God or not, because the issues correspond not with their impressions. 8. They seem to haye pre-supposed two things— the first, that the visions came from God, because they had made so deep an impression upon them; and this might be simply the effect of their natural tendency to trust in visions. The second, that as the vision came from God, so the event ought to have answered their expectations or impressions. This is a grand delusion, for the revelations and words of God are not always fulfilled as man understands them, or even in their obvious sense. We must, therefore, not rely upon visions, nor accept them at once, even when we know that they are revelations, answers, or words of God. For though they are certain and true in themselves, it is not of necessity that they should be so in our sense, as I shall show in the next chapter. And I shall further show also that God, though at times supernaturally answering petitions presented to Him, is not pleased with this, and that He is sometimes angry, though He answers.

Visions, revelations, and locutions, though true and from God, may deceive. Proofs from Holy Scriptures. There are two reasons why divine locutions and visions prove untrue to us, though they are in themselves always true and certain. The first is our defective understanding of them, and the second depends on the cause and ground of them: they are frequently threats, arid therefore conditional, depending for their fulfilment on penance done, or abstinence from particular acts ; although at the same time expressed in absolute terms. I proceed to illustrate this by certain proofs from the Holy Writings. 2. In the first place, it is clear that the prophecies do not always mean what we understand by them, and that the issues do not correspond with our expectations. The reason is that God is infinite and most high, and therefore His prophecies, locutions, and revelations, involve other conceptions, other meanings, widely different from those according to which we measure our own perceptions ; and they are the more true and the more certain the less they seem so to our understanding. We have instances of this truth in the Holy Scriptures, where we read that many prophecies and divine locutions disappointed, in their fulfilment, the expectations of many of the ancient people, because they understood them too much according to the letter in their own way. This will become clear if we consider the following examples.

[CHAP. XIX. j Of MOUNT CARMEL. 3. When God had brought Abraham into the land of Chanaan, He said unto him, *I brought thee out from Ur of the Chaldees to give thee this land.'* But now that God had said this to Abraham more than once, and as the patriarch was old, and the land not yet his, he said unto God when the promise was again made, • Whereby may I know that 1 shall possess it ? ' t Then God revealed to Abraham that it was not he, but his children, after the lapse of four hundred years, who were to possess the land. Abraham then understood the promise, which in itself was most true : for God by giving the land to his children, because of the love He bore him, was giving it to him. Thus Abraham deceived himself while he understood the promise in his own sense. And if he had then acted on that understanding, he would have greatly erred, for the time of fulfilment was not come. Those, too, who saw him die before he had entered into possession of the land, knowing the promise which God had made him, would have been put to shame, and would have accounted the prophecy for a talse one.

4. Afterwards, when Jacob his grandson was going to Egypt, whither Joseph had sent for him, because of the famine in the land of Chanaan, God appeared to him on the way, and said, ' Fear not, go down into Egypt. I will bring thee back again from thence.'f This prophecy was not fulfilled as we should understand it, for the hoiy old man died in Egypt, and never came back alive. That prophecy was to be fulfilled in his descendants, whom God brought back, after many years, being Him- # Gen. xv. 7. t lb. 8. t lb. xlvi. 3, 4. self their guide. Now anyone who might have heard of this prophecy would have been certain, that as Jacob went down into Egypt by the grace and command of God, so would he return thence alive without fail ; for the same promise extended to his return and protection. Such an one would have been astonished and deceived when he saw the patriarch die, and the events not answering to his expectation. Thus, while the promise of God was most certain, men might deceive themselves greatly about it. 5. The tribes of Israel, as we read in the book of the Judges, assembled together to fight against that of Benjamin, because of a certain evil deed which that tribe had sanctioned. God, too, appointed them a leader in the war. Upon this they were so confident of success that, when they were defeated with the loss of two and twenty thousand men, they were filled with astonishment, and wept before God, not knowing the cause of their discomfiture, for they understood that victory had been promised them.

They asked whether they should return to the fight ; God answered them, ' Go up against them and join battle.' They went up the second time with great boldness, confident of victory, but were beaten again, and eighteen thousand of them were slain. In consequence of this they were filled with confusion, and knew not what to do. God had conrmanded them to fight, and they were always beaten, though they surpassed their enemies in courage and in numbers — being themselves four hundred thousand strong, while the tribe of Benjamin only mustered five and twenty thousand and seven hundred men. They deceived themselves by their

own interpretation of the word of God, which in itself was true. God had not said to them, go forth and conquer, but go forth and fight. And His purpose was to chastise them in this way for their negligence and presumption, and so to humble them. At last God said unto them, « Go up, for to-morrow I will deliver them into your hands,' and then by toil and stratagem they obtained the victory.* 6. This is one of the many ways in which souk deceive themselves in the matter of revelations and divine locutions. They understand them in the letter according to their apparent meaning. For, as I have said, the chief purpose of God in sending visions is to express and communicate the spirit which is hidden within them, and which is very hard to be understood. This is much more abundant than the letter, more extraordinary, and surpasses the limits thereof. He, therefore, that will rely on the letter of the divine locution, or on the intelligible form of the vision, will of necessity fall into delusion, and be put to shame ; for he directs himself therein by sense, and does not yield to the spirit in detachment from sense, •The letter killeth/ saith the Apostle, 'but the spirit quickeneth/ 1 We must therefore reject the literal sense, and abide in the obscurity of faith, which is the spirit, incomprehensible by sense.

7. This is the reason why many of the people of Israel came to disregard and to disbelieve the words of the prophets. They understood them in a particular sense according to the letter, and were disappointed at their non-fulfilment. To such an extent did this evil grow • Judg. xx. 23—28. t 2 Cor. iii. 6. among them that they had a current proverb in ridicule of the prophecies. Isaias complains of this, saying : « Whom shall he teach knowledge ? and whom shall he make to understand the hearing ? Them that are weaned from the milk, that are drawn away from the breasts. For command, command again ; command, command again ; wait, wait again ; wait, wait again ; a little there, a little there. For with the speech or lips, and with another tongue He will speak to this people/* It is clear from these words, that the people made a jest of the prophecies, and where in the habit ot ridiculing them by saying, 4 wait, wait again.' Their object was to insinuate that the prophecies would never be accomplished : for they understood them according to the letter, which is the milk of babes ; and in their own sense, which is the ' breasts,' which is in contradiction with the grandeur of the science of the Spirit. The prophet therefore asks, Whom shall he teach the knowledge ' of his prophecies, and 'whom shall he make to understand' what they teach ? Is it not they who are 'weaned from the milk' of the letter, and from ' the breasts ' of sense ? That nation understood not the prophecies, for it followed after the milk ot the letter, and the breasts of sense, saying, * command, command again ; wait, wait again.' For God spoke to them the doctrine of His own mouth, and not of theirs, and that in another tongue than theirs.

8. We are therefore not to consider prophecy according to our own understanding and our own speech, knowing that the words of God have a meaning different from ours, and very difficult to ascertain. So much so that * Is. xxviii. 9-1 1. Jeremias, himself a prophet of God, seems to have been deceived when he saw the meaning of the divine words to be so far removed from the understanding of men ; for he thus complains on behalf of the people, saying, « Alas, aUs, alas ! O Lord God, hast Thou then deceived this people and Jerusalem, saying, You shall have peace, and behold the sword reacheth even to the soul ?'* The peace which God had promised was peace between Himself and man in the Messias, Whom He was to send; but the people understood it of temporal peace ; and so, when war and trouble came upon them, they thought God had deceived them, because they were disappointed in their hopes. They then cried out in the words of the prophet, ' We looked for peace, and no good came.'t It was not possible for them not to be deceived, because they relied on the literal, grammatical sense.

9. Is it possible for anyone to escape error and confusion, who should understand in the letter the prophecy of the Psalmist concerning Christ, especially that which says of Him, * He shall rule from sea to sea, and from the river unto the ends of the earth ?'J And again, ' He shall deliver the poor from the mighty, and the needy that hath no helper/ § Now Christ was born in a low estate, lived in poverty, and died in misery ; so far was He from ruling over the earth while He lived upon it, that He subjected Himself to the lowest of the people and died under Pontius Pilate. Not only did He not deliver the poor, His own disciples, trom the mighty, but He suffered the mighty to persecute them for His * Jcr. iv. io. t lb. yiii. 15. X Ps. Uxi. 8. S lb. 12. name, and to put them to death. The prophecy concerning Christ is to be understood spiritually, for in that sense it is most true. He is not only the Lord of the whole earth, but of heaven also, for He is God. And the poor, who are to follow Him, are not only redeemed by Him and delivered from the mighty, that is, out of the hand of satan, but also made heirs of the kingdom ot heaven. The prophecy referred to Christ and His followers in the highest sense, to His eternal kingdom and our everlasting salvation ;

but men understood it in their own way, referring it to that which is of least importance, and of which God makes but little account, a temporal dominion, and a temporal deliverance, which in the sight of God is neither a kingdom nor freedom. The Jews, blinded by the letter of the prophecy, and not understanding the^true^spiritual meaning it involved, put our Lord God to death. ' They that inhabited Jerusalem,' saith the Apostle, 'and the rulers thereof, not knowing Him, nor the voices of the prophets, which are read every sabbath, judging Him, have fulfilled them/* JXO. The words of God are indeed hard to be understood as they ought to be. His own disciples, who had been familiar with Him, were themselves deceived. Two of them after His death were journeying sad and desponding to Emmaus, and saying, ' We hoped that it was He who should have redeemed Israel.'t They, too, understood this redemption and dominion in a temporal sense. Our Lord appeared to them, and rebuked them, saying, *0 foolish, and slow of heart to believe in all things which the prophets have spoken !'+ Even on the day of

• Acts xui 27. t St. Luke xxiv. 21. $ lb. 25. His ascension some of them were alike ignorant, for they asked Him, saying, 4 Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel ¥ * 11. Many things have been spoken by the Holy Ghost, the meaning of which is different from that which men conceive. Such were the words of Caiphas concerning Christ: 'It is expedient for you that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not. And this he spoke not of himself.'t The words of Caiphas had one meaning to himself, and another, a very different one, to the Holy Ghost. 12. This shows us that we cannot rely upon visions and revelations, even though coming from God, because it is so easy for us to be deceived by understanding them in our own sense. They are an abyss and a depth of the Spirit, and therefore to limit them to our own sense and apprehension of them, is to grasp the air and the motes floating in it ; the air disperses, and our hand is empty3 13. The spiritual director must be therefore careful not to make his penitent narrow-minded by attaching any importance to these supernatural visitations; for they are nothing else but the motes of the Spirit, and he who shall give his attention to these alone will in the end have no spirituality at all. Yea, rather let him wean him from all visions and locutions, and guide him into the liberty and darkness of faith, where he shall receive of the abundance of the Spirit, and consequently the knowledge and understanding of the words of God. It is impossible for anyone who is not spiritually-minded to judge, even in a moderate degree, the things of God ;

• Acts i. 6. t St. John xi. 5a and he who judges them according to sense is not spiritual. Though the things of God are presented to men through the senses, they are not to be so understood. 'The sensual man/ saith the. Apostle, 'perceiveth not the things that are of the Spirit of God ; for it is foolishness to him, and he cannot understand; because it is spiritually examined. But the spiritual man judgeth all things.'* By * sensual man ' is here meant one who understands the divine locutions in the literal sense ; and the ' spiritual man ' is he who is neither tied to it, nor directed by it. It is presumption therefore to converse with God in this supernatural way and to allow sense to intermeddle therewith. 14. For the clearer understanding of this I will give some illustrations of it. Let us suppose a holy man in affliction, persecuted by his enemies, to whom God shall say, 'I will deliver thee out of their hands/ This promise may be verified, and yet the enemies of the Saint triumph, and he die by their hands. Should he understand the word of God in a temporal sense, that would be a delusion; for God may have spoken of the true deliverance and victory, which is salvation, by which the soul is delivered, and by which it conquers all its enemies in a higher and truer sense than that of any temporal victory over them. Thus the prophecy is much more true and comprehensive than the understanding of it by anyone who should have limited its meaning to this life. For God, when HG speaks, always intends great and profitable things ; * but man may understand Him in his own way, in the lowest sense,