Sermons on the Song of Songs

Digitized by Google perhaps set before lhat task, or which might prevent my acquitting myself of the full discharge of it, according to my powers, even though I might seem to be actuated by a motive of charity to do it, yet the reason of the Order would not allow of its being done. Yet if I apply myself wholly to this [my first] work, in preference to all others, as I ought, but do not rejoice still more in greater services to God, which I may perceive to be done, perhaps, by some other person, then it is evident that I observe the order of charity only in part and not wholly. But if I occupy myself chiefly with that which is my particular charge, yet do not omit to show sympathy with other and greater work, then I shall be found to have fulfilled on both sides the order of charity, and there is nothing to hinder my saying : He has set in order charity in me. 7. If you say that it is difficult to rejoice more in the good work done by another, though it be great, than in a smaller good brought about by oneself, you will notice the more from this the excellence of the grace bestowed upon the Bride, and how it is not given to every soul to say : He has set in order charity in me Wherefore have the countenances of some among you fallen at this discourse ? For those deep sighs are a sign of sorrow of soul and depression of conscience.

It is because, when we compare ourselves with ourselves, we feel by our own experience our imperfection, and how rare a virtue it is not to envy the good of another, but, on the contrary, to rejoice in it, and to be the more willing to praise another's goodness in preference to our own the more we feel ourselves surpassed in virtue. There is still some light in us, brethren, when we feel thus about ourselves. Let us walk while we have the light, lest darkness come upon us (John xil 35). To walk is to make progress. The Apostle was making progress when he said : / count not myself to have apprehended ; and adds : This one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and, reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark (Phil. iv. 13, 14). VVhat does he mean by this one thing ? It is to say, There is one thing remaining to me which is at once a remedy, a hope, and a consolation. And what is that ? It is the forgetting the past and pressing forward to fresh endeavours in the future. It is a great ground for confidence that even the great man who was c a chosen vessel ' did not regard

himself as perfect, but earnestly desired to make a farther advance towards perfection. The danger, then, for us is that we should be surprised by the shadows of death when we are not in progress towards good, but are motionless and inert. And who is thus motionless except he who does not make any effort to advance ? Take heed of this, and then, if you shall be surprised by death, you will be in a state of gradual amelioration (re/rigerio). You will say to God : Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being imperfect ; nevertheless, continues the Psalmist, all are written in Thy book (Ps. cxxxix. 16). Wherefore all t Doubtless those who are found in earnest desire for progress in good, for there follows : * The days shall be formed, and none of Digitized by 302 them/ that is to say, shall perish. We must understand by 4 the days ' those who are making spiritual progress, and these, if they are surprised by death, shall be perfected in those merits which are wanting in them. They shall be rendered wholly complete ; not one of them shall be left unformed or imperfect. 8. And how, you ask again, can I make any spiritual progress, seeing that I envy that of my brother ? If

you lament that you envy him, though you feel the envy, you do not consent to it. It is, so to speak, an illness to be cured, not an action to be condemned. Only you must not allow yourself to settle down into an habitual envy, meditating evil designs upon your bed, nursing, as it were, and fostering your disease, satisfying your evil feelings, persecuting the innocent, speaking evil of his good actions, impeding, perverting, and corrupting them. But that jealousy, if it be not yielded to, does not injure a soul which is in motion and stretching forward to better things, because, then, it is not he that does the wrong, but sin that dwelleth in him (Rom. vii. 20). Condemnation, therefore, is not for him who is far from giving his members as instruments unto iniquity ; neither his tongue to detraction, nor any other part of his body to the injury or wrong of his neighbour in any way whatsoever; who, on the contrary, is ashamed to be of an evil disposition, who makes vigorous efforts to expel the deep-seated vice by confessing and bewailing it in prayer ; and if he does not succeed in doing so, is on that account more gentle towards others and more humble in himself. Who is the wise man who

would condemn a soul like this, which has learned from the Lord to be meek and lowly in heart (Matt. xi. 29) ? God forbid that there should be found to come short of salvation anyone who is a follower of the Saviour, the Bridegroom of the Church, our Lord Jesus Christ, who is above all, God blessed for ever. Amen.

OF TWO KINDS OF CHARITY — NAMELY, THAT OF FEELING AND THAT A 70U are perhaps expecting, my brethren, that I should go on to treat of the words next following in the Canticle, as the A words of the preceding verse were completed in the last Sermon. But I have another object ; and there are still some fragments that remain, as it were, of our banquet yesterday, which I had collected that nothing might be lost, and which I mean to set before you now. They will perish if not given to any for food ; while, if I keep them for my own use alone, I shall myself perish. I am most unwilling to deprive you of those spiritual dainties, your hunger for which I know so well, especially as they are out of the basket of

Digitized by Google charity, and the sweeter as they are smaller, and the more savoury as more minutely divided. Otherwise, it would be too much against charity to defraud you of charity itself. Therefore, here is my subject : He has set in order charity, in me (ii. 4). 2. There is charity in action, and there is charity in feeling. As concerning the first, I think that it is a law and explicit command ment given to men ; but, as relates to the other, who can have it in such perfection as is contemplated by the precept ? The one, therefore, is ordered as a command, the other given as a reward. We do not deny, however, that with the grace of God it is possible, even in this life, to attain the commencement, and even some degree of progress in the latter ; but we maintain that the consummation of it is reserved for the happiness to come. How, then, has that been commanded, which can by no means be fulfilled by us? Or if you prefer to think that the command given has reference to charity in feeling, this I would not contest, provided that you agree with me in allowing that it is not possible for any man perfectly to fulfil it, nor has it

ever been possible.1 For who would dare to arrogate to himself a success which St. Paul himself confesses that he had not attained? (Phil, iii. 1 3). Nor did our great Teacher conceal that the weight of this precept exceeded the powers of men ; but He has considered it useful to call man's attention by means of this fact to his own weakness, and that he might thus learn towards what object of righteousness to direct his efforts as far as his powers permitted. In commanding, then, things which are impossible [to the unaided strength of men], He has made men, not offenders, but humble : that every mouth may be stopped and all the world may be made subject to God. Because by the works of the Laiv no flesh shall be justified before Him (Rom. iii. 19, 20, Douay). We, then, receiving the commandment, and feeling ourselves to come short of it, shall raise our cry to Heaven, and our God shall have pity upon us, and we shall learn in that day that not by works of righteousness which zve have done, but according to His mercy He saved us (Titus iii. 5). 3. This is what I would say, provided that we were all of opinion that the charity of the heart and of the

feelings was commanded by a distinct law imposed upon us. But the reason which seems to refer the law rather to charity in act2 is that when the Lord had said: to charity in act, than in feeling. But by charity in feeling he means that lofty and perfect love which is to be found only in the saints and those who are perfect.

Again, by charity in act [actualem) he means that which does not consist simply in feeling, but comes forth and shows itself in action ; but he did not by any means intend to exclude inward charity from it. ' I do not say,' he declares further on (». 4), 4 that we ought to be without feelings of charity'; on the contrary, charity in act should include charity in thought, 4 which, although it does not as yet refresh the soul with the sweetness of inward deKght, yet it powerfully contributes to fire it with the love of that love itself.' Now it is precisely inward love * with which charity in act is content ' («. 6). See on thb subject the Admonition to De Diligendo Deo, Bk. ii. Digitized by Low your enemies, He at once introduces a precept relating to actions, do good to them which hate you (Luke vi. 27). And another Scripture says : If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink (Rom. vi. 20). And these precepts relate to actions, not to affections.

Again, hear what the Lord Himself commands with regard to the affection due to Him : If ye love Me, keep My commandments^ (John xiv. 15). Here, also, we are referred by Him to actions in enjoining the observance of His commands. It would have been superfluous for Him to warn us as to the doing of works if charity had consisted wholly in feelings. It is in this way that we should understand that commandment which orders you to * love thy neighbour as thyself9 (Matt. xxii. 39), although it is not explicitly thus stated.

And do you not consider it perfectly clear that, in order to fulfil that command as to the love of one's neighbour, it suffices to observe perfectly that which the law of nature prescribes : * Do that to no man which thou hatest' (Tobit iv. 15), and which the Lord, in fact, commands : Alt things whatsoever ye would that men slwuld do to yen, do ye even so to them (Matt. vii. 12). 4. I do not say that we ought to be without feelings of charity, that the heart should be barren and unmoved, and that all we should do is to raise our hands to actions [of charity} I have read among the great and grave crimes, which the Apostle writes, that men commit, this enumerated, that they are wit/iout natural affection (Rom. i. 31). But there is an affection which the flesh produces, there is another which reason rules, and a third which is seasoned by wisdom. The first is that of which the Apostle says, that it is not subject to the i~w of God, neither indeed can be (Rom. viii. 7) ; the second, on the contrary, because it is good, shows itself consentient to the Divine law, and there is no doubt, therefore, that these two arc contrary the one to the other, since the one resists, and the other conforms to [the Divine Will]. As for the third, it is wholly different from each of the former, for it tastes and appreciates fully the sweetness of the Lord (Ps. xxxiv. 8) ; it banishes the first, and rewards the second. The first is attractive indeed, but dishonourable ; the second dry, but steady and strong ; but the third full of unction and sweetness.

It is, then, by the second that (good) works are done, and in it charity consists; not, indeed, that charity of heart and feeling, which is seasoned with the salt of wisdom, and made fat with an unction from above, so as to bring to the soul the abundance of sweetness which is in God ; but rather a certain charity of action, which, though it does not as yet refresh the soul with the sweetness of inward delight, yet powerfully contributes to fire it with the love of that love itself. Let us not love, says St John, in word, nor in tongue, but in deed and in truth (1 John iil 18).

Advent, n, 2. No doubt in the heart, as he there explains ; but they ought to be to the heart what food is to the body, and ' pass not only into the affections, bit also into the character and actions of life.* Digitized by Google 5. Do you observe how cautiously he proceeds, between love which is vicious and love which is only in feeling, distinguishing from each of these the real and saving charity ? He does not admit in it the feigned love of a false tongue ; nor, again, does he demand the lofty and consummate enjoyment of active wisdom. Let us love, he says, in deed and in truth ; that is to say, let us be moved to the doing of good works rather by the powerful impulse of truth and fact than by a feeling of emotional charity. He has set in order charity in me.

Which of these two kinds of charity ? Each of them, in fact, but in a reverse order. For charity in act chooses rather (for its sphere) the lower sphere of life, while that of thought and feeling chooses the higher. There is, for example, no doubt that in a right-thinking soul the love of God is preferred to the love of man, heaven to earth, eternity to time, the soul to the body. And yet in well-regulated action the opposite order is frequently, or almost always, found to prevail. For we are both more frequently occupied, and more busily, with cares for the temporal good of our neighbour, and among our brethren we assist with more diligent assiduity those who are more infirm ; we apply ourselves, by the right of humanity and the necessity of the case, more to promote the peace of the earth than the glory of heaven ; in our anxiety about temporal interests we scarcely permit ourselves to think anything about those which are eternal ; in sickness our bodily pains and weakness occupy us almost without ceasing, and the care of our soul is laid aside ; and, lastly, we surround our weaker members, according to the saying of the Apostle, with more abundant honour (1 Cor. xii. 23), and thus we fulfil, after a fashion, that saying of the Lord : The last shall be f. st, and the first last (Matt xx. 16). Who doubts that a man, when he is in prayer, is speaking with God ? and yet how often are we withdrawn, and, so to speak, torn away, from prayer, and that at the very dictate of charity, because of those who are in need of our assistance or our advice !

How often does holy quiet give place, and that from a pious motive, to the tumult' of business affairs! How often do we with a good conscience lay down the manuscript we are reading, to go and perspire over manual labour ! How often, in order to carry out our worldly occupations, do we (and that very justly) temporarily supersede even the Celebration of the solemnities of the Holy Eucharist I1 A preposterous order in which to act ; but necessity has no law.2 intermitted during the harvest. On which account Philip Augustus, having heard that among the monks of Barbeaux, * at the period of harvest, the brethren used to sojourn in their farmhouses, and thus on account of their temporal interests the celebration of mass was omitted,' is said to have given an order that thenceforth mass should be celebrated every day, in the morning, for the soul of his father, who was buried there. There are letters on this subject in De Re DiplomaticAy Bk. vi., p. 603. As to St. Bernard himself, we learn from his * Life/ by Geoffrey (Bk. v., c. 1), that he scarcely ever omitted to offer the holy sacrifice Mown to his last illness ' (Mabillon's note). of Law,' but I have not been able to trace it to any one author. — Ed. 20 Digitized by Google 306 Charity in act follows its own order, and commences by the last things, according to the bidding of the Father of all (Matt. xx. 8).

At least it is a charity kindly and just, not an acceptor of persons ; nor does it consider the relative value of things, but the necessities of men. 6. Not so with charity in feeling ; that commences always with the first things. For wisdom sets upon all things the value which is really theirs ; thus, for example, that which is in its nature the more valuable receives from it the greater measure of attention ; those which have less value receive less, and those which have less still, least of all. It is truth, then, that determines this order of charity ; but it is charity that adopts it. For the true charity consists in this, that those whose needs are greatest receive first ; and, again, charitable truth is manifest, in preserving in our affections that order which is founded in the reason. If, then, you love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy strength (Matt. xxii. 37), rising in the earnestness of that affection above that love of love,1 with which actual charity is content, and receiving in all its fulness the Divine love (to which that other love serves only as a step), are wholly fired and pervaded by it, assuredly you have a knowledge of

God, although you cannot know Him adequately or as He is (which is a thing impossible to any creature), but at least such a knowledge of Him as you are capable of receiving here below. Then you shall have a true knowledge of yourself also, when you attain a perception of the fact that you have nothing whatever in yourself to deserve love, except in so far as you belong to God, and because you have poured out upon Him all the affection you can command. You well know yourself, I repeat, as you really are, when by experience of your own love, and of the affection which you bear to your own self, you find nothing in yourself that merits your love, except it is on account of Him without whom you yourself have no existence at all. 7. Now, as to your neighbour, whom you are bidden to love as yourself, you shall know him also as he is, provided that he does not appear to you as other than you appear to yourself ; for he is that which you are ; he is man, as you. Since, then, you love yourself only because you love God, it follows that you love as yourself all those who love God as you love Him. As for an enemy,

he is, as it were, nothing, since he has no love for God ; you cannot, therefore, love him as you love yourself, who do love God ; but you will love even him that he may learn to love God. For it is not the same thing to love a person so that he may love God, and to love him because be does this. In order, then, that you may know him as he really is, you must consider, not that which he is at the present moment (for he is nothing), but that which he may perhaps some day be, which is next to nothing, as long as the matter is still in doubt. Furtherthe thought of St. Bernard, who, in treating of charity in act (n, 4), says, *it powerfully contributes to fire the soul with the love of that love itself.' Digitized by Google 307 more, if there be one who will clearly never return to the love of God, you must look upon him, not as almost nothing, but as nothing at all, inasmuch as throughout eternity he is nothing. With the exception, then, of such a person as he, who is not merely not to be loved, but who is, besides this, to be held in hatred, according to that saying of the

Psalmist : Do I not hate them, O Lord> that hate Thee f and am not I griejted with them that rise up against Thee ? (Ps. cxxxix. 21) charity, which is jealous in this respect, does not allow that you should refuse to any man, even to your most bitter enemy, some small measure of affection. Whoso is wise will ponder these things. 8. Give me a man who, before all things, loves God with all his being ; who loves both himself and his neighbour in the same degree in which each loves God ; who loves his enemy as one who may perhaps at some time in the future turn to the love of God ; who loves his relatives according to the flesh very tenderly, on account of nature, but his spiritual parents, that is, those who have instructed him, more abundantly on account of grace, and thus his love for all other things whatsoever is regulated by his love for God ; who despises the earth, and looks upward to the heaven ; who uses this world as not abusing it, and knows how to distinguish, by a certain inward faculty of soul, between things which are to be chosen and loved, and those to be merely used, so that things transitory are made use

of as they pass for temporary need, and as long as the need requires, while things eternally enduring are embraced with lasting joy : show me, I say, a man such as this, and I will boldly pronounce him wise, since he takes things for what they truly are, and is able with truth and confidence to boast : He hath set in order charity in me. But where is such an one to be found, and when shall it be thus with him? This I ask weeping : how long shall we perceive this fragrance without tasting it ? how long look forward to our heavenly home, without attaining it, sighing for it while beholding it from afar? O Truth, fatherland of exiled souls, and end of their exile ! I descry thee, but am unable to enter in ; I am detained in the flesh, I am defiled by my sins, I am not worthy to be admitted. O Wisdom, whose powerful guidance extendest from the beginning to the end of all things, establishing and controlling them ; who disposest all with admirable gentleness, ordering, blessing, and gladdening all affections, direct our actions according as our temporal necessities require, and dispose our affections as thy eternal truth demands ; so that each of us may be able securely

to glory in Thee, and say : He has set in order charity in me. For Thou art the Power of God and the Wisdom of God, Jesus Christ our Lord, the Bridegroom of the Church, God above all, Blessed for ever. Amen. Digitized by Google 308

HOW THE BRIDE MAKES PETITION THAT THE FRUITS OF GOOD WORKS AND THE PERFUMES OF FAITH MAY BE MADE TO ABOUND WITH * Stay me up with flowers^ compass me about with apples : because I languish with love,' — Cant. ii. 5 (Douay).

THE love [of the Bride] has grown because the incentives to it have been more and greater than heretofore ; for you see how precious has been the opportunity granted to her, of not only seeing the Bridegroom, but of conversing with Him. It seems, also, that He has appeared to her with a countenance more serene, that His interview with her was more prolonged, and His words kinder. Nor is she only delighted to have had an interview with her Beloved, but is honoured by the praise He has bestowed upon her. Furthermore, through Him she is refreshed with grateful shade, nourished with His fruit, and has drunk of His cup. For it is not to be supposed that she has come forth thirsty from the banqueting-house, into which she gloried so lately that she had been brought ; yet, indeed, she is thirsty still, according to the Scripture : They that drink me shall yet be thirsty (Ecclus. xxiv. 21). After all these things, the Bridegroom retires according to His wont, and it is then that the Bride declares herself to languish for love, that is to say, the love which she has for Him. For the more delightful she had found His presence, the keener is the pang she feels afterwards because of his absence. The taking

away of what you love increases your desire for it ; and the more ardently you desire it, the more you feel the privation arising from its loss. For this reason the Bride entreats that she may be comforted in the meantime with fruits and the odour of flowers, until He shall return to her, whose present delay she endures with impatience. So much as relates to the order and connection of the text. 2. Let us try now, under the guidance of the Spirit of truth, to draw out some fruit of spiritual profit. And if it be taken that the Church, which includes all the saints, is here speaking, we are here referred to by flowers and fruits ; and not only we, but all those also who have been converted from the world in every age. The flowers mean those who are beginning the life of conversion, in whom it is still new and tender ; and the fruits, the strength of those who are farther advanced, and the ripeness of those who are perfect. Surrounded and supported by these in this place of her exile, the Church, our mother, to whom to live is Christ, and to die is gain, endures with less impatience her long trial of deferred hope, since, according to the Scripture, there

is given unto her of the fruit of her Digitized by Google 309 hands, the firstfruits, so to speak, of the Spirit, and Iter own works praise her in the gates (Prov. xxxi. 31). But if you would that I should follow the moral sense, and show you in the soul flowers and fruits, then flowers denote faith, and fruits works. That explanation will, I think, not seem unsuitable to you, if you consider how, just as the flower necessarily precedes the fruit, faith must of necessity go before good action. For St. Paul bears witness that without faith it is impossible to please God (Heb. xi. 6), and he says what is even stronger, that whatsoever is not of faith is sin (Rom. xiv. 23). Therefore, as there is not fruit without flowers, so is there no good action without faith. But, again, as faith without works is dead (James ii. 20), so in the same way it is useless for the flower to appear, if it be not followed by fruit Stay me up with floivcrs, compass me about with apples, because I languish with love. Thus it is that a soul, accustomed to quiet, draws consolation from good works rooted in a faith unfeigned, whenever the light of holy contemplation is withdrawn from it, as is often

the case. For who is able to enjoy the light of holy contemplation — I do not say continually, but even for any considerable time — while he remains in this body ? But as I have said, as often as he falls from the state of contemplation, he resorts to that of action, as to a convenient refuge, from whence he may be able more easily to return into his former state. For these two things are intimately related ; they are chamber companions, and -dwell together.

Martha is sister to Mary, and although she comes forth from the light of contemplation, she never suffers herself to fall into the darkness of sin, or to subside into ignoble sloth, but remains still in the light of good works. And that you may know that these are also light, remember the Lord's words : Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works (Matt. v. 16) ; for it is quite clear that He spoke of actions which were capable of being beheld by men. 3. Because I languish with love. When the object of affection is present, love grows and strengthens ; but when he is absent, love languishes. This languor is nothing else than the weariness of eager and unsatisfied longing, with which the mind of her who loves is necessarily strongly affected in the absence of her beloved. For as she is always absorbed in watching for his coming, she regards as delay whatever haste he may use. Therefore it is that you see the Bride entreating that she may be surrounded with the fruits of good works and the sweet odours of faith, among which she may rest while her Lord delays His coming. I speak to you of that which I have verified by personal experience. I do

assure you, brethren, that if I ever find that any of you have profited by my teaching and warnings, then I do not regret that I have preferred the preaching to you, to my own quiet and ease. For when, for example, after a sermon, someone who is passionate is found to have become gentle, a proud mind to be humble, a timid one brave and strong; or when one already gentle, humble, or brave, is seen to have made progress in those graces, and to have become better than he was before; or Digitized by Google when those who perhaps were lukewarm and languid, sleepy and uninterested in spiritual exercises, are awakened and warmed by the fiery touch of the word of the Lord ; and when those who, having deserted the fountain of true wisdom, have hewn out to themselves at their own will cisterns which can hold no water, and because their hearts are dry, and they have in themselves no impulse of devotion, have been wont to murmur at every command laid upon them — when, I say, such persons as these, by the dew of the word, and the plentiful rain, which God has reserved to His inheritance, are shown to have, as it were, flourished anew in works of obedience, and to have become

submissive and devoted in all things, I have no ground, I assure you, for feeling sorrow at the interruption of my pursuit of happy contemplation, when I am surrounded with such flowers and fruits of piety. I endure with patience the being torn from the society of an unfruitful Rachel, to obtain from Leah the plentiful fruits of your progress in goodness.

It will not trouble me at all, I repeat, to break in upon my quiet for the purpose of preparing to preach to you, when I shall see the seed which I have sown in your souls grow in them, and bring forth the rich increase of your fruits of righteousness. For charity, which seeketh not her own (i Cor. xiii. 5), has long since easily won me to prefer your advantage to all else that I hold most desirable. To pray, to read/to write, to meditate, and all the other advantages of spiritual studies ; I have counted them all as loss for your sake, and in comparison with any loss to you. 4. Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with apples : because I languish with love. This says the Bride to her maidens in the absence of her Spouse, thus warning them to make progress in faith and good works, until He come, because she believes that this will be both well-pleasing to Him, a consolation to herself, and the means of their salvation. I know that I have explained this passage more fully and in another sense in my book upon the Love of God, and if it shall please any of you to read that, he can decide whether of the two is to be preferred. A prudent person will not, I think, condemn the giving of two senses to the same passage, provided that each appear to be grounded in truth, and that charity, which is the rule in interpreting Scripture, shall edify the more persons, inasmuch as there are a greater number of truthful senses, which each may apply to his own special need. For why should that be found faulty in the interpreting of Scripture, which we see is industriously practised in other things? To how many different bodily uses (only to take one thing for an example) do we put the element of water ?

In the same way a person is not to be blamed who gives divers senses, fitted to the various needs of souls, to a passage of Scripture. 5. Then follow the words : His left hand is under my hecui, and His right hand doth embrace me (ii. 6). I remember that this also was discussed very elaborately in the treatise which I have mentioned ; but let us observe the sequence of the discourse. It appears that Digitized by Google the Bridegroom has at length returned, as I suppose, to encourage by His presence the drooping Bride, and that He is with her. For how could it be otherwise than that she should be revived by His presence, whom His absence had so cast down? He is unable, then, to endure the sadness of His beloved one ; He is present ; nor when recalled by a desire so ardent is He capable of making delay.

And as He had found her during His absence faithful to her labours and earnestly desirous of [spiritual] profit, as was doubtless shown by her direction that flowers and fruits should be gathered together for her, so He returns to her with graces more abundant than heretofore for her reward. Happy the soul which lies on the Breast of Christ, and by the Arms of the Word is enfolded in rest. His left hand is under my head, and his ri^ht hand shall embrace me. She does not say, doth embrace} but shall embrace, to signify that she is so grateful for the former grace, as to anticipate the second by her giving of thanks. 6. Learn not to be slow and slothful in returning thanks to God ; learn to render thanksgiving to Him for each of His gifts. Diligently, says the Scripture, consider what is put before thee (Prov. xxiii. i), so as not to let pass any gift of God, whether great, or mediocre, or even very small, without rendering due thanks for it. Are we not bidden to gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost (John vi. 12) ; that is to say, let not the least benefits be forgotten? For is not that lost which is bestowed upon an ungrateful receiver ?

Ingratitude is the enemy of the soul, the starving of merits, the dissipation of virtues, and the loss of the benefits that God has bestowed upon us. Ingratitude is as a burning wind, which dries up for itself the fountain of goodness, the dew of mercy, the flowing stream of grace. On this account it is that the Bride, when she has felt the grace done to her by the left hand of her Spouse, renders her thanks, and does not delay even to receive the farther grace which awaits her from His right hand before so doing. For, after having said, His left hand is under my head, does she go on to say similarly, ' With His right He has embraced me'; but shall embrace me, she says instead. 7. But in what sense shall we understand that the Word has either right hand or left? Can it be said of the Word, as it is said of ordinary human beings, that there are in Him bodily parts distinct the one from the other, and separate lineaments, so that distinction can be made between the right hand and the left ? Ought we not rather to believe that the Word of God, who is Himself God, does not admit in Himself any such diversity, but is that which He is (Exod. iii. 14), that is to say, in His Nature Uncom pounded, and therefore without parts, as He is One, and therefore without number ?

For He is God the Word, of whom it is written : Of His Wisdom there is no number (Ps. cxlvi. 5, Douay). But if that which is unchangeable is incomprehensible, it is therefore incapable of being Digitized by Google 312 expressed in language ; where, then, I ask, can you find words in which that Majesty so exalted can either worthily be expressed, competently defined, or even suitably spoken of? Yet, in order to expound, according to our capacity, the little that we know and has been revealed to us by the Holy Spirit, and taught us by the usage of the Holy Scriptures and the authority of the Fathers, let it be permitted to us to make use of analogies from things that we know, and not indeed to find out new terms, but to vary the meaning1 of some known to us, so as to clothe those analogies sufficiently and suitably.

For unless this were done, it would be absurd to attempt to teach things unknown by means of words which are equally unknown. 8. Thus, as by the right hand and the left hand it is the custom to denote prosperity and adversity, so it seems to me that by the left hand of the Word may be meant the threatening of punishment, and by His right hand the promise of the kingdom of heaven. Now, there are times when our soul is servilely oppressed by the fear of punishment, and then we cannot say that the right hand of the Bridegroom is under our head, but that it is upon our head ; nor can a soul thus affected say with the Bride : His left hand is under my head. But if it makes progress, so as to pass out of this spirit of servitude into a nobler disposition of free and willing service, insomuch that it is rather invited by the hope of reward than constrained by the fear of punishments, and especially if it is influenced by the pure love of good, then undoubtedly it will be able to say His left hand is under my head. For it has, by a better and more excellent disposition of mind, risen above that slavish fear which is

aroused or indicated by the left hand, and by the very power and worthiness of its aspirations has drawn nearer to that which is signified by the Right Hand. And in it, according to the saying of the Psalmist, addressing the Lord, are all the promises : At Thy Right Hand there are pleasures for evermore (Ps. xvi. 1 1). This is why the Bride, speaking in the certitude of her hope, declares: And His Right Hand shall embrace me. 9. You will now see with me whether a soul thus disposed, and which has attained a position of such sweetness and happiness, may well appropriate to itself what is said in a Psalm : I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, especially as it may go on to give the reason which follows : For Thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety (Ps. iv. 8). That, in truth, is the case. Whereas he who is oppressed with a spirit of servitude, who has but little of hope and much of fear, dwells not in peace, nor is able to rest, because his conscience fluctuates continually between hoping and fearing, and is so much the more tortured by the predominance of the latter, because fear hath torment And therefore it is not his happy lot to

say, 1 1 will lay me down in peace and rest,' because none can say that unless he be firmly established in hope. But if, by a progressive growth in grace, the fear diminishes, and the hope grows stronger — then at Digitized by Google 3'3 length charity comes with all its powers to the assistance of hope, and fear is driven out of the soul — will not hope under those circumstances have made good its ground, and will not that soul be able to rest and sleep in peace ? 10. If you sleep among the midst of lots you shall be as the wings of a dove covered with silver.^ What I think, then, is intended here is that there is a medium between fear and security, as between the right wing and the left — namely, hope — on which soul and conscience sweetly repose ; that is to say, on the soft and pleasant bed of charity.

And perhaps it is this that is referred to in a later passage of this Canticle, where, in a description of the couch of Solomon, among other words you have : The midst thereof being paved with charity for the daughters of Jerusalem (iii. 10). For he who feels himself to be strongly established in hope does not serve in fear, but rests in charity. That is, in fact, the case with the Bride, who rests and even sleeps ; wherefore it is said [by the Bridegroom] : / charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake My love until she2 please (ii. 7). It is a great and surprising condescension that He makes the contemplative soul to repose in His Bosom ; that He guards it also from intrusive cares ; that He protects it from the inquietudes of action and the embarrassments of business, and does not suffer it to be aroused at all, except at its own will. That, however, is not a subject to be entered upon at the close of a discourse ; it will be better to defer it to another occasion, when time will not be wanting for the treatment of a theme so attractive. Not that

even then we can be sufficient of ourselves to think anything as of ourselves, especially with regard to a matter so noble, so excellent, and so altogether sublime ; but our sufficiency is of God, of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. Amen. differing interpretations of it. The Vulgate (inter medios cleros) follows the LXX. {avapkaov rutv K\i)pt»v)t i.e., in the midst of 'such dangers and persecutions, as if your enemies were casting tots for your goods and persons ' (Douay, n. ) ; but St. Jerome turns it otherwise 1 inter medios terminos,' that is, 4 upon the very bounds or borders of the dominions of your enemies.' The English A.V., 'among the pots,' is founded on still another reading, 1 inter medios oltas,' which Francois Vatablus thus explains : * Even if you shall have been lying among vessels covered with blackness, if you shall have been oppressed with great calamity, you shall be rendered glad and, as it were, white and shining by your liberation.' But it is better, with most modern expositors, to follow the Chaldee Targum, and read, * among the sheepfolds.' The meaning will then be : ' Even if ye have been lying between the sheepfolds, far from the battlefield, yet shall

ye be enriched with captured gold and jewels, till ye be as the wings of a dove, silver and gold1 (Littledale, • Psalms,' ii. 381). Ewald renders thus: * If ye rest thus between hurdles, doves' wings are covered with silver, and their pinions with green gold-shimmer ' (♦ Psalms,' ii. 204.)— Ed. Digitized by

OF THAT ECSTASY WHICH IS CALLED CONTEMPLATION, IN WHICH THE k I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem , by the roes% and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor wake my love till she please?— Cant, ii. 7. IT is to the maidens that this prohibition is addressed. By this name, of daughters of Jerusalem, He calls those delicate and weak souls which are, as it were, womanly in affections and actions, but are, nevertheless, attached to the Bride, in the hope of attaining spiritual profit, and making their way to Jerusalem with her.

These, then, He forbids to disturb the sleep of the Bride, or to presume to awaken her against her will. For her most sweet Spouse has, as we have before been told, laid His left hand under her head, and made her to rest and sleep. And now, as the text goes on to say, He, in His abounding kindness and condescension, makes Himself her guard, and watches over her, lest, being disquieted by the small but frequent wants of her maidens, she should be awakened. That is the literal sense of the text. But as for that contestation * by the roes and hinds of the field/ it seems to have no reasonable consequence in the literal sense ; it is, therefore, to be explained entirely according to its spiritual meaning. However that may be, we may say here that it is good for us to behold for a link the goodness, the sweetness, the condescension of the Divine Nature.

Kor that which thou, O man, hast ever experienced in human feelings, which is most tender and sweet, it is that which is here predicated to thee of the Heart of the Most High. And He who speaks of it thus is He who searches the deep things of God, and because He is the Spirit of God, cannot but know whatsoever is in Him ; nor, since He is the Spirit of truth, can He speak any other thing than that which He has seen in Him. 2. [We must believe that] there are those belonging to our race who have been so happy as to merit to taste this joy, and so to ex perience in their own selves the effects of a mystery so sweet ; for otherwise we should be wanting in faith in this Scripture before us, where the heavenly Bridegroom is plainly brought before us, as feeling a most earnest desire for the peace and rest of a certain soul, which was dear to Him, and so anxious as to hold that soul in His own arms, that the sweetness of its sleep might not be troubled by any care or disquiet. I cannot contain my joy to see that the Sovereign Majesty does not disdain to condescend to the weakness of our nature

by entering into a relation to it so familiar and so sweet, and that the Supreme Godhead does not think it below its dignity to Digitized by Google ally itself with the soul, even in its present state of exile, and to show for it the ardent affection of a loving Spouse. Thus, thus, it is in tieaven, I do not doubt, as I see it to be on earth ; and that the soul will assuredly feel that which is described in the text ; except that words are not capable of fully describing that which it will then be able to experience, though it is not now able. What, think you, shall the soul receive on high which even here below is honoured with such near association with God as to feel His Arms around her, to be sheltered in His Bosom, to be watched and guarded by His care, so that when sleeping she shall not be aroused by any until she awaken of her own accord ? 3. Let us now, then, consider, and let me explain if I can, what is the nature of that sleep which the Bridegroom desires for His beloved (Ps. cxxvil 2), and from which He will not have her aroused, except at her own will, lest perhaps someone reading what

an Apostle has written : Now it is high time to awake out of sleep (Rom. xiii. 11), or the prayer that the Psalmist makes to God to lighten his eyes lest he sleep the sleep of death (Ps. xiii. 3), should be* troubled by a misunderstanding of words, and be able to form no worthy idea of the slumber of the Bride which in this passage is referred to. Nor is this sleep at all similar to that other slumber of which the Lord speaks in the Gospel — namely, that of Lazarus : Our friend Lazarus sleepeih ; but J go, that I may awake him out of sleep (John xi. 11). For this He said of the death of the body, though the disciples thought that He referred to an ordinary sleep. But this repose of the Bride is not the unconsciousness of the body which steeps the bodily senses in deep forgetfulness for the time, however peaceful that may be ; nor yet that sleep, deeper and more to be feared, which steals away the life. Much more is it far removed from that other slumber which is the state of him who sleeps in death — that is to say, who perseveres irrevocably in sin which leads to death. This may, on the contrary, be

called a sleep of life, and even a vigil ; for it illuminates the inward sense — it banishes death, and contributes to everlasting life. Yet that is, in truth, a sleep which, though it does not steep the senses in forgetfulness, ravishes and transports them [into a higher sphere]. It is even a death (as I may say without hesitation), since the Apostle speaks thus, in order to praise certain persons while they were still living the life of the body : Ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God (Col. iii. 3). 4. I may, then, without any absurdity, call the ecstasy of the Bride death ; but it is a death which, far from depriving her of life, delivers her from the snares [which are dangerous to] life, so that she is able to say: Our soul is escaped even as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers (Ps. cxxiv. 7). For in this life we proceed in the midst of snares ; and the soul is delivered from the fear of these whenever it is, so to speak, ravished out of itself by intense and holy thought, provided that it is separated from, and elevated above, itself to such a degree as to transcend its usual habit of thinking. For

a net is spread in Digitized by vain before the eyes of them that have wings (Prov. i. 1 7, Douay).

Where there is no consciousness even of life, what fear is there of impurity ? For when the soul is in that state it ceases, not, indeed, to have life, but to have any consciousness of its life, and therefore it does not feel any of the temptations of life. O that I had wings like a dove ; for then would I fly away, and be at rest (Ps. lv. 6). Would that thus I might die often, so as to avoid the snares of death, to escape the deadly blandishments of a life of pleasure, to be insensible to carnal delights, to the passion of avarice, to the incitements of anger and impatience, to the troubles and disquiets of cares and anxieties ! Let my soul die the death of the righteous, that no fraud may ensnare it, nor there be any satisfaction to it in evikloing.

Good, indeed, and to be desired,, is that death which does not take away life, but only changes it into a better form, which does not strike down the body, but elevates the soul. 5. Yet this is but the death which belongs to men. May my soul die the death which, if I may so speak, belongs to angels ; so that, departing from the remembrance of things present, and being divested not only of desire for, but also of the haunting ideas and images of, things corporeal and inferior, it may enter into pure relations with those in which is the image and likeness of purity. Of this nature, as I consider, is the ecstasy in which contemplation wholly or principally consists. For to be, while still living, delivered from the power of desires for things material is a degree of human virtue ; but to be brought out of the sphere of material forms and ideas is a privilege of angelic purity. Yet each of these two is a Divine gift — each of them consists in coming out of yourself, in rising above yourself; but the one carries you only a little way, while the other carries you far indeed. Blessed is he who can say : Lo, I have fled far away, and abode in solitude (Ps. lv. 7). He was not content to go forth unless he could go far away, so as to obtain repose. Have you over-passed the pleasures of the flesh, so that you no longer obey its lusts, nor are subject to its allurements ? Then you have made progress ; you have separated yourself [from the world] ; but you have not yet detached yourself entirely from it as long as you have not the power to banish, by the mere purity of your spirit, and to rise entirely out of the reach of, the inrushing and thronging crowd of material images and ideas.

Do not, at the point which you have thus far attained, promise yourself rest of soul. You mistake if you think that the place of repose, the secret of solitude, the habitation of peace, the stillness of serene light, is to be found on this side of your earthly existence. But show me the soul who has attained that point of freedom of which I speak, who can justly say : Return unto thy rest, O my soul ; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee (Ps. cxvi. 7), and I will at once confess that he has found the rest desired. And this place is truly in a solitude, this dwelling is truly in the light, according to the prophet: a tabernacle for a shadow in the day-time from the heat, and for* place of refuge, and for a covert from storm and from rain (Is. iv. 6) ; Digitized by Google and of it holy David also says : In the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion : in the secret of His tabernacle shall He hide me (Ps. xxvii. 5). 6. Regard this, then, as the solitude into which the Bride has withdrawn, and in which place of delight she sweetly rests in communion with her Spouse, by which we are to understand that she is rapt in ecstasy, from which she is not to be aroused by her maidens until she shall choose. But in what terms is that prohibition stated ?

They are not forbidden in the usual manner, and with simple and unemphatic terms, but with a new and unexampled adjuration : by the roes and by the hinds of the field. And it seems to me that by these two kinds of animals it is intended to designate the holy souls who are delivered from the body, and the Angels who are in the Presence of God, with reference both to the clearness of their sight, and the swiftness of their motions. Now, we know that both the one and the other of these qualities befits these two classes of spirits, for they rise easily to the loftiest truths, and penetrate to the deepest mysteries. The fields or plains, also, over which they are said to roam, evidently denote the lightness and freedom from all restraint with which they expatiate in contemplation. What is the intention, then, of that adjuration by them made by the Spouse ? It is doubtless in order that the maidens, restless as they are, may not venture, for any slight cause, to recall His Beloved from a company so august, with whom she assuredly associates, as often as she is rapt out of herself by contemplation. It is, then, with great fitness that they are adjured by respect for those good and holy beings, from whose society the Bride is being torn away by their importunity. These maidens are to consider who it is that they are offending when they importune their mother, and are not to presume so much on her motherly kindness as to have the boldness to burst in upon that celestial assembly when no pressing necessity exists for so doing. Let them clearly understand that this is what they do, as often as they disturb, without real cause, the deep quiet of a soul fixed in contemplation. Evidently it is laid down by these words, that it is to such a soul that the choice is left, whether to employ its leisure to its own spiritual good, or to devote itself to cares for them, that is to say, by the words in which it is forbidden to arouse the Bride, except at her own will.

The Bridegroom is well aware how ardent is the affection of His Bride, even towards her neighbours, and that, good mother as she is, she is sufficiently prompted by her own charity anxiously to care for the spiritual interests of her daughters, and that she will not, on any account, deny herself to them, or withdraw herself from them, as often and as much as there is need of her ; and therefore He has determined that the question of time can be safely left to her discretion. She is not one such as those whom a prophet subjects to withering reproof, who have taken to themselves that which is fat and strong, but have neglected that which was feeble (Ezek. xxxiv. 3, 4).

Does the physician seek those that are healthy, and not rather those Digitized by that are sick ? If he visits the former, it is as friend, and not as physician. So also, O thou who art a good teacher, if you repel all that are unlearned, whom will you instruct ? To whom, I ask, will you administer with care and zeal the rules of discipline, if you either avoid the unruly, or are avoided by them? In whom, I ask, shall your patience find its work and be approved, if you admit those only who are peaceful and submissive, and exclude all others ? 7. There are some sitting here from whom I should wish to see a more careful heed to this matter. Let them reflect, at least, what respect is due to those set over them, and that, by disturbing them rashly and without good cause, they are drawing upon themselves the displeasure of even the citizens of heaven. And then, perhaps, they will begin to spare us a little more than they have been accustomed to do, and not to break in upon our leisure so inconsiderately and rashly. Rarely, indeed, as they know, is an hour left to me for resting from the incessant coming of visitors, even when [the brethren] bear with me in all patience. But I reproach myself for making that complaint, lest some timid soul should conceal his spiritual needs longer than his strength holds out, in fear of disturbing me. I say no more on this subject, then, lest I should seem myself to afford to those who are weak an example of impatience. The Lord has little children who yet believe in Him, and I could not bear that I should be an occasion of scandal to such (Matt xviii. 6).

Abbot] ; let them rather make use of me as they will, provided only that they attain salvation. They will really spare me in not sparing me at all, and I shall rest the more freely if they have no fear at all of disturbing me when they have need of anything. I shall comply with their wishes as far as I am able, and as long as I have a breath of life shall serve my God in them with real and unfeigned charity. I seek not my own interests, nor those things which are useful to me, but rather court that which is of use to many, of use also to myself. This only I ask and entreat, that my ministry may be accepted and become fruitful, so that at least I may find mercy in the evil day in the eyes of Him who is their Father, and the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Bridegroom of the Church, who is above all, God blessed for ever. Amen. Digitized by Google BY 'MOUNTAINS AND 'HILLS ARE SIGNIFIED HEAVENLY SPIRITS 319

BY 'MOUNTAINS' AND c HILLS ' ARE SIGNIFIED THE HEAVENLY PASSES IN HIS COMING TO EARTH, THAT IS TO SAY, IN THE HE Bride, noticing the increased modesty of her maidens, and their respectful timidity, shown by their no longer venturing to intrude upon her sacred repose, nor presuming, as they had previously done, to trouble the quiet of her contemplation, recognises that this is the effect of the care and labours of the Bridegroom.

Rejoicing, therefore, in spirit, as well because they are advantaged in being restrained from needless and excessive restlessness, as because of the condescension and favour of her Bridegroom, and her own prospect of unbroken quiet in future, she declares that it is the Voice of her Beloved which does this, and His grace that has brought it about, with so much zeal on behalf of her peace, and earnestness in defending the sweetness of her leisure, or, rather, of her fervent religious exercises. For the man who has in charge the rule over others, and discharges it with faithfulness and care, scarcely ever allows himself with a good conscience to enjoy rest, since he is always in fear of not doing sufficient for those under his authority, and of not pleasing God, if he prefers his own quiet, and the sweetness of contemplation, to that which is for the common advantage. But there is sometimes no little joy and security in his mind, while enjoying his interval of peaceful repose, when he perceives, from the degree of awe and reverence for him with which God inspires the hearts of those he governs, that his quiet is pleasing to God, who causes them to endure their wants with a patient mind, rather than venture to disturb the grateful rest of their spiritual father. For the just fear of these his children shows manifestly that they have heard inwardly that complaining and, as it were, threatening voice of Him who speaks by the prophet : / that speak in righteousness (Is. lxiii. 1). It is His voice, it is His inspiration, and it impresses upon them a righteous fear. 2. When His Voice, then, is heard, the Bride is glad and rejoices, saying : The Voice of my Beloved, She is His chosen, and rejoices with great joy on account of the voice of her Spouse. Then she adds : Behold, He cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills. Having recognised by hearing His voice the presence of her chosen, instantly she turns inquiring eyes around in order to see Him whom she had heard. Hearing leads to sight, because faith cometh by hearing (Rom. x. 17); and it is faith that purifies hearts, * The voice of my bclovaU — Cant. ii. 8.

Digitized by 320 and renders them capable of beholding God. For we read thus : Purifying their hearts by faith (Acts xv. 9). Then she sees Him approaching whom she had heard speaking, thus observing the order indicated by the Holy Spirit, who has spoken thus by the mouth of the Psalmist: Hearken, O daughter, and see (Ps. xliv. 11, Douay).

And that you may be the more surely convinced that it is not by accident or chance, but of set design and purpose, because of the reason already alleged, that I have here set hearing before sight, notice whether the same order is not observed by holy Job where he speaks thus to God : / have heard of Thee by the hearing of the tar, but now mine eye seeth Thee (Job xlii. 5). So, also, when the Scripture relates that the Holy Ghost descended upon the Apostles, is not hearing described as having preceded sight ? For it is said : Suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind; and, then, in the next verse : There appeared unto them cloven tonguts like as of fire (Acts ii. 2, 3). Here, then, it is plainly shown that the coming of the Holy Spirit was perceived, first by hearing, and afterwards by sight. But enough has been said upon this subject, for you also, if you will take the trouble to pursue this inquiry further, will perhaps be able to find similar instances in other parts of Scripture. 3. Now let us consider a subject which, because it cannot be approached without difficulty, needs a specially careful examination ; in which I confess that I am altogether dependent on the aid of the Holy Spirit, that I may be able clearly to explain what are those mountains and those hills upon which the Church saw with great gladness her Bridegroom leaping, and over which she saw Him pass with rapid steps, when, as I think, He was hastening to come to accomplish her redemption for whose beauty He was filled with love.

That this is the case I have confidence in believing, inasmuch as a similar passage of Scripture occurs to me in which the Psalmist evidently spoke prophetically under the guidance of the Spirit, and foretold the coming of the Saviour : He hath set His tabernacle in the sun, and He, as a Bridegroom coming out of his bridcchambcr, hath rejoiced as a giant to run the way ; His going out is from the end of heaven, and His circuit even to the end thereof (Ps. xviii. 6, Douay). His going forth, and His return likewise, are here most clear ; whence it was undertaken, whither, and to what end, most clear also. What then ? When we read these words in the Psalms, or in the Canticle before us, ought we to imagine to ourselves a giant of prodigious stature, who is captivated by the love of some fair one dwelling at a distance from him, and whom we behold on his way to her traversing with great steps, with leaps and bounds, those hills and mountains which we see lifting their lofty mass out of the plain, and that so high that some of their most elevated peaks are lost in the clouds?

But it is not becoming to have recourse to material images such as these when treating of a spiritual poem, and to us in particular it is altogether forbidden, for we remember what we have read in the Digitized by Google BY 'MOUNTAINS* AND 'HILLS* ARE SIGNIFIED HEAVENLY SPIRITS $21 Gospel, that God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth (John iv. 24). 4. What, then [let us inquire], are these mountains and these hills, spiritually understood, so that we may be able as a consequence to comprehend in what way the Bridegroom (who, as He is God, is therefore also Spirit), and with what kind of bounds, can leap upon them and over them ? If we suppose that they are those mountains upon which, as the Gospel declares, the ninety and nine sheep were wandering when their kind Shepherd came to the earth to seek His sheep which had gone astray (Matt, xviii. 12); the matter is still obscure, and the understanding baffled, because it is difficult to find out what are those other mountains on which dwell and feed the heavenly and spiritual beatitudes, which are, without doubt, those who are there spoken of as sheep. But if there were no such [mountains] in truth, then the Truth would not have said this. Nor, again, would the Psalmist have said long before of the heavenly Jerusalem, that her foundations were upon the holy mountains (Ps. lxxxvii. 1), if there were, in fact, no such mountains at all. Lastly, to show that the celestial country has mountains and hills, not only spiritual, but also living, and of a reasonable nature, hear the words of Isaiah : The mountains and t/ie hills shall break forth before [God] into singing (Is. Iv. 12). 5. What, then, are they except those very spirits, dwellers in heaven, whom the Lord, as we have said, calls sheep, and who signify at once sheep and mountains? Unless it should perhaps seem to you absurd that mountains should be said to feed upon mountains and sheep upon sheep. Taken in a literal sense, no doubt, this explanation seems harsh ; but to the spiritual understanding it will appear harmonious" if we understand it in a deeper sense — viz., that the Shepherd of each flock, Christ the Wisdom of God, administers one and the same food of truth both in heaven and on earth, but in one way to His heavenly flocks and in another to His earthly ones.

For we mortal men, while we are in the place of our pilgrimage, have indeed necessarily to eat our bread in the sweat of our brow, and to beg it from without in labour and distress— that is, to gain a knowledge of the invisible things of God, which are understood by the things which are made, either from men who are instructed in holy things or from the Scriptures of God. But the Angels receive it in themselves, though not for themselves, and with as much facility as felicity, which is for them the great happiness of their existence.

For they are all (capable of being) taught of God, which blessing it is promised that the elect among men shall assuredly attain at some future time, though this assured felicity it is not granted to them as yet to enjoy. 6. Thus mountains do feed upon mountains, or sheep upon sheep, since those celestial and spiritual beings find abundantly in themselves, by the word of life which they receive, the means to render their blessedness perpetual, and are at the same time (as it were) 21 Digitized by 322 mountains and sheep ; mountains, because of their exaltation and their fulness ; sheep, because of their gentleness and goodness. For they are full of God, raised high by merits, and heaped with virtues, and yet do not fail to bend their heads, however lofty, in complete and humble obedience and submission to the sovereign Majesty of God ; as innocent and gentle sheep conduct themselves in all things according to the will of their shepherd, and follow him whithersoever he goeth. And, according to David the Psalmist, upon these mountains truly holy, as upon wisdom created first of all things, the foundations of the City of God are firmly set and stand fast from the beginning (Ps. lxxxvii. i); and this City is one, both in heaven and on

earth, though in part it is militant on earth, and in part reigning in heaven. And, nevertheless, from these mountains, according to the prophet Isaiah, resounds thanksgiving, and the voice of melody (Is. li. 3), as from living and harmonious cymbals, accomplishing thus, with sweet and never-ceasing sound, that word of the same prophet which I quoted before, that the mountains and the hills shall break forth before [God] into singing, and also this other word which the Psalmist has addressed to the Lord God : Blessed are they that dwell in Thy House, they will be still praising Thee (Ps. lxxxiv. 4). 7. So much, then, upon this subject ; let us now take up again the thread of our discourse, from which we have digressed a little, but necessarily, as I think : those are the mountains and the hills on which the Church has seen her heavenly Spouse leaping with wonderful alacrity, and even overleaping them, in haste to meet and welcome her. Do you desire that I should show you, out of the writings of the Prophets and Apostles, what is to be mystically understood by these ? 1 do not intend to repeat to you all the testimonies with regard to this which may be found in those writings by those who have leisure to

search them (for this would take a long time, and there is no need for it), but only those which appear to confirm clearly and briefly what is said here of the boundings of the Bridegroom.

Now, David says of Him that His going forth is from the end of the heaven (Ps. xix. 6, already quoted). Lo ! what a bound was that, even from the height of heaven down to the earth ! For I find not any other spot, but the earth, which can be intended when it is said that He has placed His tabernacle in the sun — that is, He, who dwells in the inaccessible Light, has deigned to manifest His Presence openly and in the light. Then, again, He was seen upon earth, and conversed with men (Baruch iii. 38). Upon the earth, and before the eyes of men, I say, that is, according to the phrase here used, * in the sun 1 hath He set His tabernacle ; that is, the Body which He has condescended to take to Himself from the body of a Virgin, so that He, who was invisible in Himself, might become visible in It, and thus all flesh might see the salvation of God, which was made manifest in the flesh. 8. He has bounded, then, upon the mountains ; that is, upon the highest spiritual beings, when He descended even to them, and Digitized by Google BY 'MOUNTAINS* AND ' HILLS* ARE SIGNIFIED HEAVENLY SPIRITS 323 deigned to reveal to them the great mystery of His goodness, which was a secret hidden from the beginning of the world. But passing over, or overleaping those loftier mountain heights, namely, Cherubin and Seraphin, Dominations, Principalities, Powers, and Virtues, He deigned to descend, as it were, upon the hills — that is, even unto a lower order of Angels. But has He remained even with them?

Nay, He has overleaped even the hills. For He took not on Him the nature of Angels ; but He took on Him the seed of Abraham (Heb. ii. 16), and this was inferior to that of the Angels, so that thus was accomplished the word of the Psalmist, when he spoke thus to the Father of the Son : Thou hast made Him a little lower than the Angels (Ps. viii. 5). Though, indeed, it is possible to explain this passage as spoken in commendation of human nature, inasmuch as man, who is made in the image and likeness of God, and endowed with reason in like manner as an Angel, is yet a little lower than the Angel, because he has a body of earth. Hear what the Apostle Paul says plainly of Jesus Christ : Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God ; but made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men, being found in fashion as a man (Phil. ii. 6-8) ; and again : When tJie fulness of the time was come, God sent forth His Son, made of a woman, made under the Law, to redeem them that were under the

Law (Gal. iv. 4, 5). It is, then, beyond doubt that being made of a woman, and made under the Law, He has passed in descending to the earth, not only the mountains, that is, the higher orders of blessed spirits, but also the lower orders of these, who, in comparison of their superiors, may rightly be called hills. But he who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than whosoever bears a body of flesh upon the earth, even though it were that great Saint, John the Baptist (Luke vii. 28). For, although we do truly confess that He who is God and man, even as Man is far above, and incomparably superior to, every Principality and Power, yet it is certain that if H surpasses them in majesty, He falls short of them in respect c physical weakness. Thus, then, it is that He leaps upon the mountains, and leaps over the hills, when by a vast condescension He shows Himself as inferior, not only to spirits of a higher rank, but also to those of a lower. For He was manifested as subject, not only to those heavenly spirits, but also to those who dwelt in bodies of clay, overleaping and overcoming by His humility even the humbleness of men. For when He was at

Nazareth, at the age of twelve years, He was subject unto Mary and Joseph (Luke ii. 51, 52); at the river Jordan, being then a young man, He bent Himself under the hands of St. John Baptist (Matt. iii. 13). But now the day is already verging towards evening, nor have we yet been able to descend from these mountains. 9. Yet if we should wish for this once only to satisfy our curiosity by examining what is beautiful, by searching out what is hidden in this mystery, it is to be feared that either the sermon would be weariDigitized by Google 324 somely long, or that in our haste we should treat with too little care a matter very large and important. Let us, then, stop here for to-day, if you wish, upon these mountains, for it is good for us to be here ; and Christ our good Shepherd, having placed us with the holy Angels in a rich pasture, we are able to feed in it at once with pleasure and abundance. And we are indeed the sheep of His pasture. Let us, then, as a pure flock of the good Shepherd, meditate with our best powers (ruminemus) upon the spiritual food we have received in the sermon of to-day. We will complete in the next what

remains to be said upon this subject ; let us try to give our best attention to it, by the grace of Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. Amen.

ANOTHER INTERPRETATION ; IN WHICH BY MOUNTAINS ARE SIGNIFIED ANGELS AND MEN ; AND BY HILLS, DEMONS. ALSO OF THE ANXIETY, LEST HE SHOULD LOSE THE GRACE OF ACTING RIGHTLY, T T PON the same verse which was treated in the sermon of yesterday I will bring before you another interpretation, differing from that which I gave before : you will choose which of the two is to be preferred. There is no need to repeat what was said before, which I think will not in so short a time have escaped you. But if that be the case, that sermon, like the others, has been written down as it was delivered, except perhaps the exact words,1 so that whatever has slipped from the memory may easily be recalled. Having said this, let me go on to speak of other things. Behold, it is said.

He cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills. She speaks of the Bridegroom. He no doubt leapt over the mountains when, having been sent by the Father to preach the Gospel to the poor, He did not disdain to perform the function of Angels, though He was the Lord of Angels, and to become the Angel of the great purpose of God. He who was wont to depute others to come down to earth descended hither in His own Person ; the Lord Himself made known the salvation which He brought, and Himself revealed His Righteousness in the sight of the nations (Ps. xcviii. 2). Since, then, all the angels, according to the Apostle, are ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them ivho shall be heirs of salvation (Heb. i. 14), He who was above them, passing over the injury done by men, and multiplying upon them His grace, was numbered among

Digitized by Google 3*5 the angels, becoming as one of them. But hear what He Himself said : 1 came ', not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give My life a ransom for many (Matt. xx. 28). Which, indeed, no angel was found to have done ; so that by the devotion and fidelity of His services to men, He has surpassed all those who had come to serve them before. No minister has shown such self-devotion as He, who has given (ministravit) His Flesh for their food, His Blood for their cordial, His very life for their ransom. None, surely, is so good as He who, by the fervour of His spirit, by the ardour of His love, and the devotion of His goodness, has not only leaped upon the mountains, but leaped over the hills ; that is to say, He has surpassed and overcome them by the earnest desire which He felt to save men ; wherefore God, His God, has anointed Him with the oil of gladness above His fellows (Ps. xlv. 7). It is in this earnestness of His desire that He proceeds with great and rapid steps t as a giant to run his course.' He overpassed Gabriel, and, according to that Archangers own testimony, was with the Virgin before

him ; for did he not say : Hail, thou that art full of grace, the Lord is with thee f 1 What ? Thou findest Him now in the womb [of the Virgin], whom thou hast just left in heaven. How can that be ? He has flown and foreflown on the wings of the winds. Thou art surpassed, O Archangel ; the Lord has overleaped and anticipated thee. 2. Or, again, He * leaped upon the mountains ' when He appeared formerly to the Fathers in the person of angels ; which seems to agree more closely with the letter of the text. For it is not said t leaping on to the mountains,' but 'in the mountains,'2 so that lie who causes and enables them to leap, leaps also in them ; just as it is He who speaks in the prophets and acts in the righteous, when He enables the one to speak and the other to do good works. Add to this that some of them represented Him, so that whosoever of them spoke, he did so not as angel, but as the Lord. For example, that angel who spoke with Moses did not say « I am the Angel of the Lord,' but ' I am the Lord ' ; and repeated that frequently.

He, therefore, leaped in the mountains — that is, in the angels, in whom He was wont both to speak and to manifest His Presence to men. He did this also upon men, but in the person of angels, not in His own Person ; nor in His own Nature, but in that of one of His subject races. For he who leaps passes from one place to another, and this cannot be ascribed to God. Therefore He leaped in the mountains, that is, in the angels, who would do this in His own Person ; and He leaped to, or upon, the hills, that is, upon the Patriarchs and Prophets, and other spiritual men who were on the earth. But also, He * leaped over* the hills, since He deigned to appear to, and to speak with, not only great men and spiritual men, but also to certain of the people, and even to some women, by the same ministry of angels. Or it may be printed editions. The early edition of Rouald also has pravenit.

Digitized by Google 326 that by 4 hills ' the Scripture understands the powers of the air, which are not now numbered among * mountains/ because they have fallen by pride from the height of virtue ; and yet they are not abased by penitence nor humbled to the lowliness of valleys, or to the valleys of the lowly. I suppose that it was of these that those words were spoken in the Psalms : The hills melted like wax at the presence of the Lord (Ps. xcvii. 5). He who leaps in the mountains without doubt leaps over these swollen and sterile hills, which hold, as it were, a middle place between the mountains of the perfect and the valleys of the penitent ; these He passes over with scorn, and descends into the valleys, that the valleys may abound with grain. Those others, on the contrary, are condemned to perpetual dryness and sterility, as in that calling down of evil of the Prophet upon such : Let there be no dew, neither rain upon you. And that you may know that, under the figure of the mountains of Gilboa, this saying applies to the angels who fell, notice the reason that is given : For there many wounded have fallen (2 Sam. i. 21). How many from the

army of Israel have fallen upon those accursed mountains from the beginning, and how many still fall at the present ! It is of those that the same Psalmist speaks when he says to the Lord : Like as the dead, that lie in the grave, whom Thou rememberest no more: and they are cut off from Thy Hand (Ps. lxxxviii. 5). 3. It is not, therefore, wonderful if those spirits, which are not, as it were, mountains of heaven, but hills of the lower air, upon which neither dew nor showers of rain fall, should remain always sterile and unfruitful ; since the Author of grace and the Giver of blessings leaps or passes over these, and descends to the valleys, so as to pour forth rain from heaven upon the humble who are on the earth, and to make them to bring forth fruit with patience, some thirtyfold, some sixtyfold, and some an hundredfold (Matt. xiii. 8 and Luke viii. 15). He visits the earth and blesses it ; He makes it to be very plenteous (Ps. lxv. 9). But it is the earth, not the air, that He has visited, because the earth is full of the goodness of the Lord (Ps. xxxiii. 5). It is declared also that God has worked salvation in the midst of

the earth (Ps. lxxiv. 12) : but does the Psalmist say also * in the midst of the air'? This [may be taken as] against Origen, who, by a false and impudent theory, crucified the Lord of glory once again in the midst of the air for the sake of demons : whereas St. Paul, being conscious of this mystery, affirms that Christ, being raised from the dead, dieth no more : death hath no more dominion over Him (Rom. vi. 9). 4. But He who has passed through the air has visited not only the earth, but also the heaven, as the Scripture declares : Thy mercy, 0 Lord, is in the hcavetis, and Thy faithfulness reacheth unto the clouds (Ps. xxxvi. 5); that is to say, unto the heaven in which dwell the holy angels, whom the Bridegroom does not pass over, but leaps in them, so that He impresses in them, as it were, the prints of His Feet — mercy, that is, and truth — as to which Footprints of the Lord I remember that I have spoken at greater length in another sermon Digitized by Google 327 (Sermon VI.). But the abode of the demons is below the clouds, and removed from them, in the obscure and gloomy air that is lowest of all ;

and in them the Bridegroom does not make His beneficent power operative, but passes them wholly over, without leaving in them any trace of His Divine passage. For how can truth be found in the devil, of whom we find in the Gospels the declaration of the Truth Himself, that he abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him (John viii. 44) ? Again, who can say that he is merciful, when the same Truth has testified of him likewise in the Gospel, that he was a murderer from the beginning ? Now, such as the head of the family is, such are they of his house also. With great fitness and beauty, then, does the Church, singing of the Bridegroom, declare that He dwelleth on high, and humbleth Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and in the earth (Ps. cxiii. 5, 6), but makes no mention of those spirits of pride which are in the air, because God resisteth the proud, and give th grace unto the humble (James iv. 6). 5. The Church sees Him, then, leaping in the mountains, and passing over the hills, according to the imprecation of David : * Let the Lord visit all the mountains which are in their circuit ' — that is, in the

circuit of Gilboa — ' but Gilboa let Him not visit.'1 For there are mountains which the Lord visits, on this side and on that of Gilboa, by which is signified the devil ; above there are angels, below there are men. To him, when he fell from heaven, was assigned as punishment an abode in that region of the air (Eph. ii. 2) midway between heaven and earth, that he might see and be envious, and be tortured with the envy which he feels. And this the Scripture describes when it says: The wicked shall see it, and be grieved: he shall gnash with his teeth, and melt away (Ps. cxii. io). How unhappy must he be when he looks up to heaven and descries its mountains innumerable, all illuminated and shining with the Divine glory, all resounding with the praises of God, full and abounding with His glory and grace ! How still more unhappy when he looks down upon the earth, and beholds there also many mountains of people, chosen and made the sons of God,2 who are established in the faith of lofty hope, of wide-extending charity ; who are accomplished in virtues, rich in the fruits of good works ; upon whom falls day by day the Divine benediction, as it were by the dew

from heaven, or, so to speak, from the mystical touch of the Bridegroom's foot in His leaping ! With how great grief and jealousy, must we suppose, does that spirit so greedily desirous of glory behold those glorious mountains in their perfect ring, while he and his followers are (as it were) regions rough, gloomy, unfruitful in any good thing, and every way to be despised ; so that he who calumniated all that lived is himself become the opprobrium of men and of angels, according to and the same remark applies to the citation of this verse on p. 326. — Ed.

Digitized by Google 328 that saying in the Psalms : That dragon whom Thou hast formed to be a derision (Ps. civ. 26). 1 6. And the cause of this is that the Bridegroom passes them over on account of their pride, leaping upon the mountains which are around, as the fountain which arises from the midst of Paradise, watering the whole earth, and filling with blessing every living thing.

Blessed are those who deserve to drink sometimes, even though it be rarely, of the torrent of this delight, and in whom the water of wisdom and the fountain of life leaps forth from time to time, though it does not flow continuously, so that it becomes in them a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life (John iv. 14). And, indeed, the flowing of this river is perennial and abundant, making glad the city of God (Ps. xlvi. 4). May God vouchsafe, in His condescension, to send upon our mountains on earth some gushings of this stream sometimes, as it were by a kind of inundation, so that they, being sufficiently watered, may be able to distil upon us also, who are valleys, some little rills, though they be few and small, that we may not remain altogether dry and unfruitful. Only misery, and poverty, and biting famine is the lot of that region which is never moistened by plentiful flowings, or even little tricklings, from the fountain of wisdom, but is altogether passed by and passed over. ' They were destroyed/ it is said, * because they had no wisdom, and perished through their own foolishness ' (Baruch iii. 28). 7. Behold^ He cometh leaping upon the mountain sy skipping upon the hills. He leaps so as to overleap {trans Mat), because it is not His will to extend [His presence] to all ; nor is it the good pleasure of God [to do this J in every case. Brethren, if, according to the wise saying of St. Paul, those things are written for our admonition (1 Cor. x. 11), let us observe the discretion and circumspection of the mystical bounds of the Bridegroom ; let us remark how, as among the angels, so among us, He bounds spiritually upon the humble, and passes over the proud. For though the Lord be highest of all, yet hath He respect unto the lowly ; but the proud He knoweth afar off (Ps. cxxxviii. 6).

Of this, I say, let us take notice, so that we may be prepared for the saving bounds of the Bridegroom, lest, as He passes over the mountains of Gilboa, so He may pass over us also, if He shall have perceived that we are unworthy of His visitation. Why dost thou, who art but earth and ashes, indulge in pride? The Lord abhors the pride even of angels [who are proud], and passes them over on that account Therefore let the casting off of angels cause the correction of men ; for it has been recorded for our admonition, l^et the evil even of the devil co-operate for good to me, and may I wash my hands in the blood of the ungodly. In what manner, do you inquire? As thus : A terrible and fearful malediction has been hurled against that proud one, the devil, the Prophet David speaking in the Spirit the rendering of the LXX. : tipdictitv oi>toq ov iirXaoae ipiraiZctv avrtf. See Job xli. 5, and Baruch iii. 17. — En.

Digitized by Google 329 of Him under the type of Mount Gilboa, as was related above : ' Let the Lord visit all the mountains which are in his circuit ; but Gilboa let Him not visit.' 8. When I read these words, and when, turning my eyes upon myself, I consider myself diligently, 1 find that I am infected with that very disease which the Lord regarded in an Angel with displeasure so great as to turn away altogether from him, at the same time that He deigned to honour with His visitation all the mountains which are around him, whether of Angels or of men ; and I say to myself with fear and trembling : 'If it was thus done with an angel, what shall be done with regard to me, who am but earth and ashes ?' It was in heaven that he indulged in pride ; but I have done so upon a mere dunghill. Who does not find pride more bearable in the rich than in the poor? Woe unto me ! if a spirit so powerful was punished with such severity because his heart was lifted up with pride, and if it availed him nothing that pride is recognised to be congenial to the powerful, what penalty must be exacted from me, who am poor and miserable, and yet am proud? But I receive already the chastisement ; I am stricken already with many stripes.

Not undeservedly has for days past that languor of soul, that mental slothfulness, that unaccustomed inertness of spirit stolen over me. I did run well ; but, lo ! a stone of stumbling was in my path ; I have stumbled against it, and fallen. Pride has been found in me, and the Lord has turned away in wrath from His servant. Hence is that barrenness of my soul and that defect in devotion which I experience. How is it that my heart is thus dried up ? soured as it were milk, made like earth in which is no water? Its hardness has become so great that I am not able to shed tears. In the chanting of the Psalms I feel no interest, I do not care to read, I have no delight in prayer, I do not resort to my habitual meditations. Where is my former cheerfulness and delight of soul ? my calm, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost? For the same reason I am slothful in manual labour, drowsy during vigils, hasty in anger, obstinate in hatred, more unguarded in speech, and self-indulgent at the table than 1 was wont, unobservant and slow of heart during preaching.

Alas ! the Lord visits all the mountains which are around me, but to me He draws not near. Am not I that one of all these hills which the Bridegroom passes over ? For of those around me I see one remarkable for abstinence, another for admirable patience, another for consummate humility and gentleness, another for much mercy and kindness ; this man I behold spending long hours in contemplation, and that man knocking hard at the doors of heaven by the earnestness of his prayers ; and there are others whom I see to excel in other virtues. I remark (I say) that all these are fervent, all devoted, all of one mind in Christ, all rich in grace and in heavenly gifts, as being, so to speak, in truth spiritual mountains which are visited by the Lord, and receive often in themselves the mystical bounds of the Bridegroom. But I, who find in myself none of all Digitized by 33° these things, what else can I suppose myself to be than one of the mountains of Gilboa, which the Saviour, who visits in His great goodness all the others, passes over in His wrath and indignation ? 9. My dear children, this reflection takes away the vain glorification of self, attracts to us the gifts of grace,

prepares us for the mystical bounds of the Bridegroom. These things I have, for your sakes, transferred to myself, and spoken as if they had taken place in my own person, that you might learn a lesson from them. Be ye then followers of me : I do not say in the exercise of virtues or the discipline of character, or the glory of holiness (for in all these respects I do not set myself up as worthy of imitation), but I would that you should follow me in not sparing yourselves, but on the contrary, accusing your own selves as often as you detect that grace is lessening in you, that zeal is growing cold, and virtue languishing, as you see that I likewise accuse myself. To do this is to act as a man who watches exactly over himself, who examines with care his ways and his desires, and who in everything holds in suspicion the vice of arrogance, for fear that it should creep secretly into his heart. In truth, I have learned by my own experience that there is nothing so efficacious in deserving grace, in preserving it, or in recovering it if lost, as to be found at all times not high-minded before God, but filled with holy fear. Happy is the man that feareth

a/way (Prov. xxviii. 14). Fear, then, when favouring grace is with thee; fear when it has departed ; fear also when at length it returns ; this it is to fear alway. Let these three kinds of fear succeed each other in your soul, according as you are favoured by the presence of grace, or as it has retired grieved from you, or forgivingly returns.

When it is present, let your fear be that you may not act and walk worthily of it ; for this is the precept of the Apostle St. Paul : See that_y* receive not the grace of God in vain (2 Cor. vi. 1) ; and to one of his disciples, Neglect not the gift that is in thee (1 Tim. iv. 14) ; while of himself he said : The grace (of God) which was bestowed upon me was not in vain (1 Cor. xv. 10). That great man, who knew the counsel of God, was well aware that to neglect the gifts of God, or not to use them to the purpose for which they were given, is to display great disregard, and even contempt, for the giver ; and that he considered to be intolerable pride. Therefore it was that he both avoided this wrong-doing with the greatest care himself, and taught others to avoid it also. But there is still another den or hiding-place in which pride is wont to lurk, which I wish to discover to you ; and this is the more perilous because it is very closely concealed ; as says the Psalmist : He lieth in wait secretly as a lion in his den (Ps. x. 9). For if he is not able to hinder [a good] action, he endeavours to tamper with the intention of it, suggesting and persuading you to attribute to yourself that which is the effect of grace.

And do not be under any mistake about this kind of pride ; it is oven far worse than the former. For what can be more hateful than language of this kind, which has been used by some : Our mighty Digitized by Google 331 hand, and not the Lord, hath done all these things (Deut. xxxii. 27, Douay). 10. If, then, you ought to fear while grace remains with you, what should you do when it has left you? Ought you not, then, much more to fear ? Plainly that is the case, for, where grace fails you, you fail too. Listen to the words of Him who is the sovereign Giver of grace : Without Me, He says, ye can do nothing (John xv. 5). Fear, then, the withdrawal of grace, as the sure prelude of your speedy fall.

Fear and tremble exceedingly because you feel that God's just anger is aroused against you, and that the powerful guardianship which hitherto has kept you safe has abandoned you. Do not hesitate to believe that your pride is the cause of this, even though you are conscious of no pride, and there is none apparent in your actions ; for that which you do not know God knows, and it is He who is your Judge. And it is not he that commendeth himself that is approved, but whom the Lord commendeth (2 Cor. x. 18). Now, if the Lord deprives you of grace, is that a sign of His commendation ? Or will He who giveth grace unto the humble (James iv. 6) take away from one who is humble that which He has already given ? Therefore the taking away of grace is a proof of pride [in him from whom it is taken]. Though it must be added that sometimes grace is taken away or withheld, not on account of pride which is present at the time, but to prevent pride which would follow unless grace were taken away. Of this we have a clear example in the person of the Apostle [St. Paul], who endured reluctantly his thorn in the flesh, not because he was exalted above measure, but in order that he might not be so (2 Cor. xii. 7). But pride, whether existing in the present or to be apprehended in the future, will ever be a cause for the withdrawal of grace. 11. Again, if grace shall have returned with the regaining of God's favour, much more is there reason for fear lest a second fall should happen to us, according to that saying in the Gospel : Behold, thou art made whole ; sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee (John v. 14). You hear, then, that it is worse to fall again into sin than to sin the first time ; let your fear, therefore, be greater in proportion as your danger increases. Happy are you if your heart be filled with this threefold fear, so that you fear when you have received grace, still more when that grace is lost, but most of all when it has been regained.

Do this, and you will be as the waterpot at that marriage at Cana where Christ was a guest, filled to the very brim, containing, not two measures apiece, but three ; and you will deserve the blessing of Christ, which shall turn the water [of your poor nature] into the wine of gladness, until the time when your charity, being perfected, shall cast out all fear (1 John iv. 18). much as it tempers the heat of carnal desires. The fear of the Lord, saith the Scripture, is the beginning of wisdom (Ps. cxi. 10); and again : The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life (Pro v. xiv. 27 ; Digitized by 332 Ecclus. xv. 3; xix. 18-20). Your mind, then, is as one of those waterpots, containing, says the Scripture, two or three measures apiece.

Now, the three measures represent the three kinds of fear. They filled them, continues the Evangelist, up to the brim. So that it is not one kind of fear, nor two, which suffices to fill [your mind] to its utmost extent, but three are needed. Fear God at all times and with all your heart, and then you have filled that measure, which is your mind, up to the brim. God loves that an offering made to Him should be without defect, that love offered to Him should be without reserve ; in short, that the sacrifice laid upon His altar should be in every way perfect. Therefore be careful to bring that measure, your mind, filled [with holy fear] to the heavenly marriage feast, so that it may be said of you also : He shall be filled with the spirit of the fear of the Lord (Is. xi. 3, Douay). He who fears thus neglects nothing; for how can negligence enter into that which is wholly filled ? That which is capable of receiving something more is not absolutely full.

For a similar reason it is not possible to fear and at the same time to indulge in thoughts of pride. And there is no place for pride to enter your mind if it be filled with the fear of the Lord. And it is the same with other faults and vices, they are of necessity excluded by the fulness of this gracious fear. Then, when your fear shall be thus full and perfect, love, bringing the benediction of the Lord, shall impart to your water the rich flavour and fragrance of wine. For fear without love is but pain and suffering, and love is that wine which maketh glad ilie heart of man (Ps. civ. 15). For love, when perfected, casteth out fear, so that where there was but water, there begins to be the glow and the sparkle of wine, to the praise and glory of Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. Amen.

HOW IT IS POSSIBLE, THROUGH A TRUE PENITENCE, TO ESCAPE k HIS depends upon the preceding verse. The Bride now com- ! pares to a roe or a young hart Him whom she had just described as advancing with rapid leaps. The comparison is an apt one, since those animals are swift of foot and agile in leaping. She speaks, then, of the Bridegroom, and the Bridegroom is the Word. And the Psalmist says of God that His Word runneth very swiftly (Ps. cxlvii. 15), which exactly agrees with this passage, in which the Bridegroom, who is the Word of God, is described as

• My Beloved is like a roe or a young hart. ' — Cant. ii. 9.

Digitized by Google 333 leaping and traversing swiftly the mountains in the manner of a roe or young hart. This is the ground of the comparison made. To this add, that not even the smallest ground of similarity may be wanting, that the roebuck is remarkable not only for its headlong swiftness, but also for the keenness of its sight. Which last quality has special reference to this part of the narrative, since the Bridegroom is described as not only leaping on some mountains, but as overleaping others, and unless His sight were keen and piercing He would not be able to distinguish, especially during the rapid speed of His course, those on which He should alight from those which He should pass over. Otherwise, to mark simply His speed, it would have sufficed to compare Him to a young hart, for that animal is noted for its swiftness. But because the Bridegroom, though the ardour of His affection is carrying Him with exceeding swiftness to the meeting with His beloved, yet does not omit to direct His steps, or rather His bounds, with prudence and circumspection, and to take heed where He ought to set His foot, therefore it was expedient to compare Him to a roe as well as to a young hart, as if to express as well by the one His strong desire to save, as by the other His discerning and careful choice. For Christ is just as well as merciful ; He is Judge as well as Saviour. Because He loves men He desires all to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth (i Tim. ii. 4), and because He has the office of judgment He knoweth them that are His (2 Tim. il 19) and whom He hath chosen [from the beginning] (John xiii. 18). 2. Let us, then, in the meantime recognise that these two transcendent attributes of the Bridegroom — namely, mercy and judgment — are commended to us by the Holy Spirit under the types of these two animals, so that for a testimony of the uprightness and perfectness of our faith we may imitate the Psalmist, and sing with him unto the Lord of mercy and judgment (Ps. ci. 1). But I do not doubt that those who are instructed and inquiring in such subjects will be able to point out other points of likeness of a similar kind which may fitly and usefully be applied to the Bridegroom ; but these may, I think, suffice here as giving a reason for the comparison.

Yet there is one more point of beautiful significance in this similitude here instituted by the Holy Spirit between the Bridegroom and (not a stag, but) a. young hart. For in that is recalled at once the memory of the Fathers (of whom, according to the flesh, Christ came) and the Infancy of the Saviour. For the Child who unto us is born (Is. ix. 6) came into the world weak and poor, and, as it were, as a young fawn. But thou who desirest the coming of the Saviour, do thou hold in salutary fear the scrutiny of the Judge ; fear His piercing glance ; fear Him who by the mouth of the prophet declares: // shall come lo pass at that time that I will search Jerusalem with candles1 (Zeph. i. 1 2). Piercing is His sight ; His eye shall leave nothing unexamined. He shall try the hearts and reins (Ps. vii. 9), and the Digitized by 334 very thoughts of men are open and confessed to Him (Heb. iv. 13).

If Jerusalem shall undergo a scrutiny so searching, who shall be safe in Babylon? For I think that in this passage the Prophet refers, under the name of Jerusalem, to those who in this world lead a religious life ; who imitate, as far as they are able, by their regulated and honourable conduct, the condition and mode of existence in that heavenly Jerusalem, and who are not as those who belong to Babylon, and whose life is full of disorders and crimes. For their sins are manifest, going before to judgment (1 Tim. v. 24); and require, not examination, but punishment. But as for me, who appear to be a monk and a citizen of Jerusalem, my sins are covered and, as it were, cloaked under the monastic habit and name ; and on that account there will be need of strict and exact inquiry (of the bringing of lanterns, so to speak), and throwing light upon what is now in the darkness. 3. I may bring forward something more from one of the Psalms to confirm what is said about the judging of Jerusalem. For the Psalmist, speaking in the Name of God, says : When I shall take a time, J will judge righteousnesses (Ps. lxxv. 2). By this He means, if I do not mistake, to say that He will discuss and examine the ways and the actions of the righteous. We have great reason to fear that when subjected to a scrutiny so vigorous, many of our actions which we believe to be praiseworthy will be shown to be veritably sins.