but if it so be (the which God forbid) that thou flatter and
fage[187] thy false fleshly blind heart with leasings[188] and
feigned behightings, that thou shalt longer live.[189] For though it
may be sooth in thee in deed that thou shalt live longer, yet it is
ever in thee a false leasing for to think it before, and for to
behight[190] it to thine heart. For why, the soothfastness of this
thing is only in God, and in thee is but a blind abiding of His
will, without certainty of one moment, the which is as little or
less than a twinkling of an eye. And, therefore, if thou wilt pray
wisely as the prophet biddeth when he saith in the psalm: Psallite
sapienter;191 look that thou get thee in the beginning this very
working of dread. For, as the same prophet saith in another psalm:
Initium sapientiae timor Domini;192 that is: "The beginning of
wisdom is the dread of our Lord God." But for that there is no full
sikerness standing[193] upon dread only, for fear of sinking in to
over much heaviness, therefore shalt thou knit to thy first thought
this other thought that followeth. Thou shalt think steadfastly that
if thou may, through the grace of God, distinctly pronounce the
words of that prayer, and win to the end thereof, or if thou die
before thou come to the end, so that thou do that in thee is, that
then it shall be accepted of thee unto God, as a full aseeth[194] of
all thy recklessness from the beginning of thy life unto that
moment. I mean thus: standing that thou hast before time, after thy
conning and thy conscience, lawfully amended thee after the common
ordinance of holy Church in confession; this short prayer, so little
as it is, shall be accepted of thee unto God for thy full salvation,
if thou then didst die, and to the great increase of thy perfection,
if thou didst live longer. This is the goodness of God, the which,
as the prophet saith, forsaketh none that truly trusteth in Him with
will of amendment;[195] and sith that all amendment standeth in
two--that is, in leaving of evil and doing of good--means to get
these two are none readier than the ghostly working of these two
thoughts touched before. For what reaveth from a soul[196] more
readily the affection of sinning, than doth a true working of dread
of death? And what moveth a soul[197] more fervently to working of
good, than doth a certain hope in the mercy and the goodness of God,
the which is brought in by this second thought? For why, the ghostly
feeling of this second thought, when it is thus truly joined to the
first, shall be to thee a sure staff of hope to hold thee by in all
thy good doings. And by this staff thou mayst sikerly climb in to
the high mount of perfection, that is to say, to the perfect love of
God; though all this beginning be imperfect, as thou shalt hear
after. For, what for the general sight that thou hast of the mercy
and of the goodness of God, and this special experience that thou
feelest of His mercy and His goodness in this acceptation of this
little short service for so long recklessness, as it were in a full
aseeth of so much recklessness (as it is said before), it may not be
but that thou shalt feel a great stirring of love unto Him that is
so good and so merciful unto thee--as the steps of thy staff, hope,
plainly sheweth unto thee in the time of thy prayer, if thou do it
duly as I have told thee before.[198] The ghostly experience of the
proof of this working standeth all in a reverent affection that a
man hath to God in the time of his prayer, caused of this dread in
the ground of this work, and of this stirring of love, the which is
brought in by the ghostly steps of this staff hope, touched before.
For why, reverence is nought else but dread and love medled together
with a staff of certain hope,
Me thinketh that the proof of this working is devotion; for devotion
is nought else, as saint Thomas the doctor saith, but a readiness of
man's will to do those things that longeth to the service of
God.[199] Each man prove in himself, for he that doth God's service
in this manner, he feeleth how ready that his will is thereto. Me
thinketh that saint Bernard accordeth to this working, where he
saith that all things should be done swiftly and gladly. And see
why: swiftly for dread, and gladly for hope, and lovely trust in His
mercy. [And what more? Sikerly, I had lever have his meed that
lasteth in such doing, though all he never did bodily penance in
this life, but only that that is enjoined to him of holy Church,
than of all the penance-doers that have been in this life from the
beginning of the world unto this day without this manner of doing. I
say not that the naked thinking of these two thoughts is so meedful;
but that reverent affection, to the which bringing in these two
thoughts are sovereign means on man's party, that is it that is so
meedful as I say.[200]] And this is only it by itself, without any
other manner of doing (as is fasting, waking, sharp wearing, and all
these other), the which only by itself pleaseth almighty God, and
deserveth to have meed of Him. And it were impossible any soul to
have meed of God without this, and all after the quantity of this
shall stand the quantity of meed; for whoso hath much of this, much
meed shall he have, and whoso hath less of this, less meed shall he
have. And all these other things, as is fasting, waking, sharp
wearing, and all these other, they are needful[201] in as much as
they are helply to get this, so that without this they are nought.
And this without them is sometime sufficient at the full by itself,
and it is often times full worthily had and come to of full many
without any of the others. All this I say for that I would by this
knowing that thou charged and commended each thing after that it is:
the more, "the more," and the less, "the less"; for oft times
unknowing is cause of much error. And oft times unknowing maketh men
to charge more and commend more bodily exercise (as is fasting,
waking, sharp wearing, and all these others) than they do ghostly
exercise in virtues or in this reverent affection touched before.
And, therefore, in more declaration of the meed and the worthiness
of this reverent affection, I shall say a little more than I yet
have said, so that, by such declaring, thou mayst be better learned
in this working than thou yet art.
All this manner of working beforesaid of this reverent affection,
when it is brought in by these two thoughts of dread and of hope
coming before, may well be likened to a tree that were full of
fruit; of the which tree, dread is that party that is within in the
earth, that is, the root. And hope is that party that is above the
earth, that is, the body[202] with the boughs. In that that hope is
certain and stable, it is the body; in that it stirreth men to works
of love, it is the boughs; but this reverent affection is evermore
the fruit, and then, evermore as long as the fruit is fastened to
the tree,[203] it hath in party a green smell of the tree; but when
it hath been a certain time departed from the tree and is full ripe,
then it hath lost all the taste of the tree, and is king's meat
[that was before but knave's meat].[204] In this time it is that
this reverent affection is so meedful as I said. And, therefore,
shape thee for to depart this fruit from the tree, and for to offer
it up by itself to the high King of heaven; and then shalt thou be
cleped God's own child, loving Him with a chaste love for Himself,
and not for His goods.[205] I mean thus: though all that the
innumerable good deeds, the which almighty God of His gracious
goodness hath shewed to each soul in this life, be sufficient causes
at the full and more, to each soul to love Him for, with all his
mind, with all his wit, and with all his will; yet if it might be,
that may no wise be, that a soul were as mighty, as worthy, and as
witty as all the saints and angels that are in heaven gathered in
one, and had never taken this worthiness of God,[206] or to whom
that God had never shewed kindness in this life; yet this soul,
seeing the loveliness of God in Himself, and the abundance thereof,
should be ravished over his might for to love God, till the heart
brast; so lovely and so liking, so good and so glorious He is in
Himself.
O how wonderful a thing and how high a thing is the love of God for
to speak of, of the which no man may speak perfectly to the
understanding of the least party thereof, but by impossible
ensamples, and passing the understanding of man! And thus it is that
I mean when I say loving Him with a chaste love for Himself, and not
for His goods;[207] not as if I said (though all I well said) much
for His goods, but without comparison more for Himself. For, if I
shall more highly speak in declaring of my meaning of the perfection
and of the meed of this reverent affection, I say that a soul
touched in affection by the sensible presence of Gods as He is in
Himself, and in a perfect soul illumined in the reason, by the clear
beam of everlasting light, the which is God, for to see and for to
feel the loveliness[208] of God in Himself, hath for that time and
for that moment lost all the mind of any good deed or of any
kindness that ever God did to him in this life--so that cause for to
love God for feeleth he or seeth he none in that time, other than is
God Himself. So that though all it may be said in speaking of the
common perfection, that the great goodness and the great kindness
that God hath shewed to us in this life are high and worthy causes
for to love God for; yet having beholding to the point and the prick
of perfection (to the which I purpose to draw thee in my meaning,
and in the manner of this writing), a perfect lover of God, for
dread of letting[209] of his perfection, seeketh now, that is to
say, in the point of perfection, none other cause for to love God
for, but God Himself; so that by this meaning I say, that chaste
love is to love God for Himself and not for His goods. And
therefore, following the rule of mine ensample, shape thee to depart
the fruit from the tree, and for to offer it up by itself unto the
King of heaven, that thy love be chaste; for evermore as long as
thou offrest Him this fruit green and hanging on the tree, thou
mayst well be likened to a woman that is not chaste, for she loveth
a man more for his goods than for himself. And see why that I liken
thee thus; for it seemeth that dread of thy death and shortness of
time, with hope of forgiveness of all thy recklessness, maketh thee
to be in God's service so reverent as thou art. And if it so be,
soothly then hath thy fruit a green smell of the tree; and though
all it pleaseth God in party, nevertheless, yet it pleaseth Him not
perfectly, and that is for thy love is not yet chaste.
Chaste love is that when thou askest of God neither releasing of
pain, nor increasing of meed, nor yet sweetness in His love in this
life; but if it be any certain time that thou covetest sweetness as
for a refreshing of thy ghostly mights, that they fail not in the
way; but thou askest of God nought but Himself, and neither thou
reckest nor lookest after whether thou shalt be in pain or in bliss,
so that thou have Him that thou lovest--this is chaste love, this is
perfect love.[210] And therefore shape thee for to depart the fruit
from the tree; that is to say, this reverent affection from the
thoughts of dread and of hope coming before; so that thou mayst
offer it ripe and chaste unto God by itself, not caused of any thing
beneath Him, or medled with Him[211] (yea, though all it be the
chief),[212] but only of Him, by Himself; and then it is so meedful
as I say that it is. For it is plainly known without any doubt unto
all those that are expert in the science of divinity and of God's
love, that as often as a man's affection is stirred unto God without
mean (that is, without messenger of any thought in special causing
that stirring), as oft it deserveth everlasting life. And for that
that a soul that is thus disposed (that is to say, that offreth the
fruit ripe, and departed from the tree) may innumerable times in one
hour be raised in to God suddenly without mean, therefore more than
I can say it deserveth, through the grace of God, the which is the
chief worker, to be raised in to joy. And therefore shape thee for
to offer the fruit ripe and departed from the tree. Nevertheless,
the fruit upon the tree, continually offered as man's frailty will
suffer, deserveth salvation; but the fruit ripe and departed from
the tree, suddenly offered unto God without mean, that is
perfection. And here mayst thou see that the tree is good, though
all that I bid thee depart the fruit therefrom, for more perfection;
and therefore I set it in thy garden; for I would that thou should
gather the fruit thereof, and keep it to thy Lord. And for that that
I would that thou knew what manner of working it is that knitteth
man's soul to God, and that maketh it one with Him in love and
accordance of will,[213] after the word of saint Paul saying thus:
Qui adhaeret Duo unus spiritus est cum illo;214 that is to say: "Who
so draweth near to God," as it is by such a reverent affection
touched before, "he is one spirit with God." That is, though all
that God and he be two and sere[215] in kind, nevertheless yet in
grace they are so knit together that they are but one in
spirit;[216] and all this is for onehead of love and accordance of
will; and in this onehead is the marriage made between God and the
soul, the which shall never be broken, though all that the heat and
the fervour of this work cease for a time, but by a deadly sin.
In the ghostly feeling of this onehead may a loving soul both say
and sing (if it list) this holy word that is written in the book of
songs in the Bible: Dilectus meus mihi et ego illi;217 that is: "My
loved unto me and I unto Him"; understanden that God shall be
knitted with the ghostly glue of grace on His party, and the lovely
consent in gladness of spirit on thy party.
And therefore climb up by this tree, as I said in the beginning; and
when thou comest to the fruit (that is, to the reverent affection,
the which ever will be in thee if thou think heartily the other two
thoughts before, and fage[218] not thyself with no lie, as I said),
then shalt thou take good keep[219] of that working that is made in
thy soul that time, and shape thee, in as much as thou mayst through
grace, for to meek thee under the height of thy God, so that thou
mayst use thee in that working other times by itself, without any
climbing thereto by any thought. And, sikerly, this is it the which
is so meedful as I said, and ever the longer that it is kept from
the tree (that is to say, from any thought), and ever the ofter that
it is done suddenly, lustily, and likingly, without mean, the
sweeter it smelleth, and the better it pleaseth the high King of
heaven. And ever when thou feelest sweetness and comfort in thy
doing, then He breaketh this fruit and giveth thee part of thine own
present. And that that thou feelest is so hard, and so straitly
stressing thine heart without comfort in the first beginning, that
bemeaneth[220] that the greenness of the fruit hanging on the tree,
or else newly pulled, setteth thy teeth on edge. Nevertheless yet it
is speedful to thee. For it is no reason that thou eat the sweet
kernel, but if thou crack first the hard shell and bite of the
bitter bark.
Nevertheless, if it so be that thy teeth be weak (that is to say,
thy ghostly mights), then it is my counsel that thou seek slights,
for better is list than lither strength.[221]
Another skill there is why that I set this tree in thy garden, for
to climb up thereby. For though all it be so that God may do what He
will, yet, to mine understanding, it is impossible any man to attain
to the perfection of this working without these two means, or else
other two that are according to them coming before. And yet is the
perfection of this work sudden, without any mean. And, therefore, I
rede[222] thee that these be thine, not thine in propriety, for that
is nought but sin,[223] but thine given graciously of God, and sent
by me as a messenger though I be unworthy; for wete thou right well
that every thought that stirreth thee to the good,[224] whether it
come from within by thine angel messenger, or from without by any
man messenger, it is but an instrument of grace given, sent and
chosen of God Himself for to work within in thy soul. And this is
the skill why that I counsel thee to take these two thoughts before
all others. For as man is a mingled thing of two substances, a
bodily and a ghostly, so it needeth for to have two sere[225] means
to come by to perfection;[226] sith it so is that both these
substances shall be oned in undeadliness at the uprising in the last
day; so that either substance be raised to perfection in this life,
by a mean accordant thereto. And that is dread to bodily substance,
and hope to the ghostly. And thus it is full seemly and according to
be, as me thinketh; for as there is nothing that so soon will ravish
the body from all affection of earthly things, as will a sensible
dread of the death; so there is nothing that so soon nor so
fervently will raise the affection of a sinner's soul, unto the love
of God, as will a certain hope of forgiveness of all his
recklessness. And therefore have I ordained thy climbing by these
two thoughts; but if it so be that thy good angel teach thee within
thy ghostly conceit, or any other man, any other two that are more
according to thy disposition than thee thinketh these two be, thou
mayst take them, and leave these safely without any blame.
Nevertheless to my conceit (till I wete more) me thinketh that these
should be full helply unto thee, and not much unaccording to thy
disposition, after that I feel in thee. And therefore, if thou think
that they do thee good, then thank God heartily, and for God's love
pray for me. Do then so, for I am a wretch, and thou wotest not how
it standeth with me.
No more at this time, but God's blessing have thou and mine.
Read often, and forget it not; set thee sharply to the proof; and
flee all letting and occasion of letting, in the name of our Lord
Jesu Christ. AMEN.
FINIS
VI.
HERE FOLLOWETH ALSO A VERY NECESSARY EPISTLE OF DISCRETION IN
STIRRINGS OF THE SOUL
GHOSTLY friend in God, that same grace and joy that I will to
myself, will I to thee at God's will. Thou askest me counsel of
silence and of speaking, of common dieting and of singular fasting,
of dwelling in company and only woning[227] by thyself. And thou
sayest thou art in great were[228] what thou shalt do; for, as thou
sayest, on the one party thou art greatly tarried with speaking,
with common eating, as other folk do, and with common woning in
company. And, on the other party, thou dreadest to be straitly
still,[229] singular in fasting, and only in woning, for deeming of
more holiness in thee than thou hast,[230] and for many other
perils; for oft times now these days they are deemed for most holy,
and fall in to many perils, that most are in silence, in singular
fasting, and in only woning. And sooth it is that they are most
holy, if grace only be the cause of that silence, of that singular
fasting, and of that only woning, the kind[231] but suffering and
only consenting; and if it be otherwise, then that is but peril on
all sides, for it is full perilous to strain the kind to any such
work of devotion, as is silence or speaking, common dieting or
singular fasting, woning in company or in onliness.[232] I mean,
passing the course and the common custom of kind and degree, but if
it be led thereto by grace; and, namely, to such works the which in
themself are indifferent, that is to say, now good, and now evil,
now with thee, now against thee, now helping, and now letting. For
it might befall that, if thou followed thy singular stirring,
straitly straining thee to silence, to singular fasting, or to only
woning, that thou shouldest oft times be still when time were to
speak, oft times fast when time were to eat, oft times be only when
time were to be in company. Or if thou give thee to speaking always
when thee list, to common eating, or to companious woning,[233] then
peradventure thou shouldest sometime speak when time[234] were to be
still, sometime eat when time were to fast, sometime be in company
when time were to be only; and thus mightest thou lightly fall in to
error, in great confusion, not only of thine own soul but also of
others. And, therefore, in eschewing of such errors, thou askest of
me (as I have perceived by thy letters) two things: the first is my
conceit of thee, and thy stirring; and the other is my counsel in
this case, and in all such others when they come.
As to the first, I answer and I say that I dread full much in this
matter and such others to put forth my rude conceit, such as it is,
for two skills.[235] And one is this: I dare not lean to my conceit,
affirming it for fast and true. The other is thine inward
disposition, and thine ableness that thou hast unto all these things
that thou speakest of in thy letter, which be not yet so fully known
unto me, as it were speedful that they were, if I should give full
counsel in this case. For it is said of the Apostle: Nemo novit quae
sunt hominis, nisi spiritus hominis qui in ipso est; "No man knoweth
which are the privy dispositions of man, but the spirit of the same
man, the which is in himself";[236] and, peradventure, thou knowest
not yet thine own inward disposition thyself, so fully as thou shalt
do hereafter, when God will let thee feel it by the proof, among
many failings and risings. For I knew never yet no sinner that might
come to the perfect knowing of himself and of his inward
disposition, but if he were learned of it before in the school of
God, by experience of many temptations, and by many failings and
risings; for right as among the waves and the floods and the storms
of the sea, on the one party, and the peaceable wind and the calms
and the soft weathers of the air on the other party, the sely[237]
ship at the last attains to the land and the haven; right so, among
the diversity of temptations and tribulations that falleth to a soul
in this ebbing and flowing life (the which are ensampled by the
storms and the floods of the sea) on the one party, and among the
grace and the goodness of the Holy Ghost, the manyfold visitation,
sweetness and comfort of spirit (the which are ensampled by the
peaceable wind and the soft weathers of the air) on the other party,
the sely soul, at the likeness of a ship, attaineth at the last to
the land of stableness, and to the haven of health; the which is the
clear and the soothfast knowing of himself, and of all his inward
dispositions, through the which knowing he sitteth quietly in
himself, as a king crowned in his royalme, mightily, wisely, and
goodly governing himself and all his thoughts and stirrings, both in
body and in soul. Of such a man it is that the wise man saith thus:
Beatus vir qui suffert tentationem, quoniam cum probatus fuerit,
accipiet coronam vitae, quam repromisit Deus diligentibus se: "He is
a blissful man that sufferingly beareth temptation; for, from he
have been proved, he shall take the crown of life, the which God
hath hight to all those that love Him."[238] The crown of life may
be said on two manners. One for ghostly wisdom, for full discretion,
and for perfection of virtue: these three knitted together may be
cleped[239] a crown of life, the which by grace may be come to here
in this life. On another manner the crown of life may be said, that
it is the endless joy that each true soul shall have, after this
life, in the bliss of heaven, and, sikerly, neither of these two
crowns may a man take, but if he before have been well proved in
suffering of noye[240] and of temptation, as this text saith:
Quoniam cum probatus fuerit, accipiet coronam vitae; that is: "From
that he have been proved, then shall he take the crown of
life";[241] as who saith (according to mine understanding touched
before): But if a sinner have been proved before in divers
temptations, now rising, now falling, falling by frailty, rising by
grace, he shall never else take of God in this life ghostly wisdom
in clear knowing of himself and of his inward dispositions, nor full
discretion in counselling and teaching of others, nor yet the third,
the which is the perfection of virtue in loving of his God and of
his brethren. All these three--wisdom, discretion, and perfection of
virtue-are but one, and they may be cleped the crown of life.