Taking the terms "revelation" and "inspiration" in the unsophisticated
sense which they have borne not only in the Judaeo-Christian tradition,
but in almost all the great ethnic religions as well, we may inquire
into the different sorts and degrees of the control exercised by the
presumably supernatural agents over the recipient of such influence. For
clearness' sake we may first distinguish between the control of the
cognitive, the volitional, and the executive faculties. For our present
inquiry we may leave aside those cases where the control of the
executive faculties, normally subject to the will and directed by the
mind, seem to be wrested from that control by a foreign agent possessed
of intelligence and volition, as, for example, in such a case as is
narrated of the false prophet Balaam, or of those who at the Pentecostal
outpouring spoke correctly in languages unintelligible to themselves, or
of the possessed who were constrained in spite of themselves to confess
Christ. In these and similar cases, not only is the action involuntary
or even counter to the will, but it manifests such intelligent purpose
as seemingly marks it to be the effect of an alien will and
intelligence. Of this kind of control exercised by the agent over the
outer actions of the patient, it may be doubted if it be ever effected
except through the mediation of a suggestion addressed to the mind, in
such sort that though not free, the resulting action is not wholly
involuntary. Be this as it may, our concern at present is simply with
control exercised over the will and the understanding.
With regard to the will, it is a commonplace of mystical theology that
God, who gave it its natural and essential bent towards the good of
reason, i.e., towards righteousness and the Divine will; who created
it not merely as an irresistible tendency towards the happiness and
self-realization of the rational subject, but as a resistible tendency
towards its _true_, happiness and _true_ self-realization--that this
same God can directly modify the will without the natural mediation of
some suggested thought. We ourselves, by the laborious cultivation of
virtue, gradually modify the response of our will to certain
suggestions, making it more sensitive to right impulses, more obtuse to
evil impulses. According to mystic theology, it is the prerogative of
God to dispense with this natural method of education, and, without
violating that liberty of choice (which no inclination can prejudice),
to incline the rational appetite this way or that; not only in reference
to some suggested object, but also without reference to any distinct
object whatsoever, so that the soul should be abruptly filled with joy
or sadness, with fear or hope, with desire or aversion, and yet be at a
loss to determine the object of these spiritual passions. St. Ignatius
Loyola, in his "Rules for Discerning Spirits," borrowed no doubt from
the current mystical theology of his day, makes this absence of any
suggested object a criterion of "consolation" coming from God alone--a
criterion always difficult to apply owing to the lightning subtlety of
thoughts that flash across the soul and are forgotten even while their
emotional reverberation yet remains. Where there was a preceding thought
to account for the emotion, he held that the "consolation" might be the
work of spirits (good or evil) who could not influence the will
directly, but only indirectly through the mind; or else it might be the
work of the mind itself, whose thoughts often seem to us abrupt through
mere failure of self-observation.
Normally what is known as an "actual grace" involves both an
illustration of the mind, and an enkindling of the will; but though
supernatural, such graces are not held to be miraculous or
preternatural, or to break the usual psychological laws of cause and
effect; like the ordinary answers to prayer, they are from God's
ordinary providence in that supernatural order which permeates but does
not of itself interfere with the natural. But over and above what,
relatively to our observation, we call the "ordinary" course, there is
the extraordinary, whose interference with it is apparent, though of
course not absolute or real--since nothing can be out of harmony with
the first and highest law, which is God Himself. And to the category of
the extraordinary must be assigned such inspirations and direct
will-movements as we here speak of. [5]
Yet not altogether; for in the natural order, too, we have the
phenomenon of instinct to consider--both spiritual and animal. Giving
heredity all the credit we can for storing up accumulated experience in
the nervous system of each species, there remains a host of fundamental
animal instincts which that law is quite inadequate to explain; those,
for example, which govern the multiplication of the species and secure
the conditions under which alone heredity can work. Such cannot be at
once the effect and the essential condition of heredity; and yet they
are, of all instincts, the most complex and mysterious. Indeed, it seems
more scientific to ascribe other instincts to the same known and
indubitable, if mysterious, cause, than to seek explanation in causes
less known and more hypothetical. In the case of many instincts, it
would seem that the craving for the object precedes the distinct
cognition of it; that the object is only ascertained when, after various
tentative gropings, it is stumbled upon, almost, it might seem, by
chance. And this seems true, also, of some of our fundamental spiritual
instincts; for example, that craving of the mind for an unified
experience, which is at the root of all mental activity, and whose
object is ever approached yet never attained; or, again, there is the
social and political instinct, which has not yet formed a distinct and
satisfying conception of what it would be at. Or nearer still to our
theme, is the natural religious instinct which seeks interpretations and
explanatory hypotheses in the various man-made religions of the race,
and which finds itself satisfied and transcended by the Christian
revelation.
In these and like instances, we find will-movements not caused by the
subjects' own cognitions and perceptions, but contrariwise, giving birth
to cognitions, setting the mind to work to interpret the said movements,
and to seek out their satisfying objects.
This is quite analogous to certain phenomena of the order of grace. St.
Ignatius almost invariably speaks, not, as we should, of thoughts that
give rise to will-states of "consolation" or "desolation," but
conversely, of these will-states giving rise to congruous thoughts.
Indeed, nothing is more familiar to us than the way in which the mind is
magnetized by even our physical states of elation or depression, to
select the more cheerful or the gloomier aspects of life, according as
we are under one influence or the other; and in practice, we recognize
the effect of people's humours on their opinions and decisions, and
would neither sue mercy nor ask a favour of a man in a temper. In short,
it is hardly too much to say, that our thoughts are more dependent on
our feelings than our feelings on our thoughts. This, then, is one
possible method of supernatural guidance which we shall call "blind
inspiration"--for though the feeling or impulse is from God, the
interpretation is from the subject's own mind. It is curious how St.
Ignatius applies this method to the determining of the Divine will in
certain cases--as it were, by the inductive principle of "concomitant
variation." A suggestion that always comes and grows with a state of
"consolation," and whose negative is in like manner associated with
"desolation," is presumably the right interpretation of the blind
impulse. [6] And perhaps this is one of the commonest subjective
assurances of faith, namely, that our faith grows and declines with what
we know intuitively to be our better moods; that when lax we are
sceptical, and believing when conscientious.
Another species of will-guidance recognized by saints, is not so much by
way of a vague feeling seeking interpretation, as by way of a sort of
enforced decision with regard to some naturally suggested course of
conduct. And this, perhaps, is what is more technically understood by an
inspiration; as, for example, when the question of writing or not
writing something publicly useful, say, the records of the Kings of
Israel, rises in the mind, and it is decided for and in the subject, but
not by him. Of course this "inspiration" is a common but not essential
accompaniment of "revelation" or "mind-control,"--in those cases,
namely, where the communicated information is for the good of others;
as, also, where it is for the guidance of the practical conduct of the
recipient. Such "inspiration" at times seems to be no more than a strong
inclination compatible with liberty; at other times it amounts to such a
"fixing" of the practical judgment as would ordinarily result from a
determination of the power of choice--if that were not a contradiction.
Better to say, it is a taking of the matter out of the jurisdiction of
choice, by the creation of an _idée fixe_ [7] in the subject's mind.
Turning now to "revelation" in the stricter sense of a preternatural
enlightenment of the mind, it might conceivably be either by way of a
real accretion of knowledge--an addition to the contents of the mind--or
else by way of manipulating contents already there, as we ourselves do
by reminiscence, by rumination, comparison, analysis, inference. Thus we
can conceive the mind being consciously controlled in these operations,
as it were, by a foreign will; being reminded of this or that; being
shown new consequences, applications, and relations of truths already
possessed.
When, however, there is a preternatural addition to the sum total of the
mind's knowledge, we can conceive the communication to be effected
through the outer senses, as by visions seen (real or symbolic), or
words heard; or through the imagination--pictorial, symbolic, or verbal;
visual or auditory; or, finally, in the very reason and intelligence
itself, whose ideas are embodied in these images and signs, and to whose
apprehension they are all subservient.
Now from all this tedious division and sub-division it may perhaps be
clear in how many different senses the words of such a professed
revelation as Mother Juliana has left on record can be regarded as
preternatural utterances; or rather, in how many different ways she
herself may have considered them such, and wished them so to be
considered. Indeed, as we shall see, she has done a good deal more to
determine this, in regard to the various parts of her record, than most
have done, and it is for that reason that we have taken the opportunity
to open up the general question. Such a record might then be, either
wholly or in part:
(a) The work of religious "inspiration" or genius, in the sense
in which rationalists use the word, levelling the idea down to the same
plane as that of artistic inspiration.
(b) Or else it might be "inspired" as mystic philosophy or
ontologism uses the expression, when it ascribes all natural insight to
a more or less directly divine enlightenment.
(c) Or, taking the word more strictly as implying the influence
of a distinct personal agency over the soul of the writer, it might be
that the record simply expresses an attempted interpretation, an
imaginary embodiment, of some blind preternatural stirring of the
writer's affections--analogous to the romances and dreams created in the
imagination at the first awakening of the amatory affections.
(d) Or, the matter being in no way from preternatural sources,
the strong and perhaps irresistible impulse to record and publish it,
might be preternatural.
(e) Or (in addition to or apart from such an impulse), it might
be a record of certain truths already contained implicitly in the
writer's mind, but brought to remembrance or into clear recognition, not
by the ordinary free activity of reason, but, as it were, by an alien
will controlling the mind.
(f) Or, if really new truths or facts are communicated to the mind
from without, this may be effected in various ways: (i) By the way of
verbal "inspiration," as when the very words are received apparently
through the outer senses; or else put together in the imagination.
(ii) Or, the matter is presented pictorially (be it fact or symbol)
to the outer senses or to the imagination; and then described or
"word-painted" according to the writer's own ability. (iii) Or, the
truth is brought home directly to the intelligence; and gets all its
imaginative and verbal clothing from the recipient.
Many other hypotheses are conceivable, but most will be reducible to one
or other of these. We may perhaps add that, when the revelation is given
for the sake of others, this purpose might be frustrated, were not a
substantial fidelity of expression and utterance also secured. This
would involve, at least, that negative kind of guidance of the tongue or
pen, known technically as "assistance."
Mother Juliana gives us some clue in regard to her own revelations where
she says: [8] "All this blessed showing of our Lord God was showed in
three parts; that is to say, by bodily sight; and by words formed in my
understanding; and by ghostly sight. For the bodily sight, I have said
as I saw, as truly as I can" (that is, the appearances were, she
believed, from God, but the description of them was her own). "And for
the words I have said them right as our Lord showed them to me" (for
here nothing was her own, but bare fidelity of utterance). "And for the
ghostly sight I have said some deal, but I may never full tell it" (that
is to say, no language or imagery of her own can ever adequately express
the spiritual truths revealed to her higher reason). As a rule she makes
it quite clear throughout, which of these three kinds of showing is
being described. We have an example of bodily vision when she saw "the
red blood trickling down from under the garland," and in all else that
seemed to happen to the crucifix on which her open eyes were set. And of
all this she says: "I conceived truly and mightily that it was Himself
that showed it me, without any mean between us;" that is, she took it as
a sort of pictorial language uttered directly by Christ, even as if He
had addressed her in speech; she took it not merely as _having_ a
meaning, but as designed and uttered to _convey_ a meaning--for to speak
is more than to let one's mind appear. Or again, it is by bodily vision
she sees a little hasel-nut in her hand, symbolic of the "naughting of
all that is made." Of words formed in her imagination she tells us, for
example, "Then He (i.e., Christ as seen on the crucifix) without voice
and opening of lips formed in my soul these words: _Herewith is the
fiend overcome_." Of "ghostly sight," or spiritual intuition, we have an
instance when she says: "In the same time that I saw (i.e., visually)
this sight of the Head bleeding, our good Lord showed a ghostly sight of
His homely loving. I saw that He is to us everything that is comfortable
to our help; He is our clothing, that for love wrappeth us," &c.--where,
in her own words and imagery, she is describing a divine-given insight
into the relation of God and the soul. Or again, when she is shown our
Blessed Lady, it is no pictorial or bodily presentment, "but the virtues
of her blissful soul, her truth, her wisdom, her charity." "And Jesus
... showed me a _ghostly_ sight of her, right as I had seen her before,
little and simple and pleasing to Him above all creatures."
Just as in the setting forth of these spiritual apprehensions, the words
and imagery are usually her own, so in the description of bodily vision
she uses her own language and comparisons. For example, the following
realism: "The great drops of blood fell down from under the garland like
pellets, seeming as it had come out of the veins; and in coming out they
were brown red, for the Blood was full thick, and in spreading abroad
they were bright red.... The plenteousness is like to drops of water
that fall off the eavings after a great shower of rain.... And for
roundness they were like to the scales of herrings in the spreading of
the forehead," &c. These similes, she tells us, "came to my mind in the
time." In other instances, the comparisons and illustrations of what she
saw with her eyes or with her understanding, were suggested to her; so
that she received the expression, as well as the matter expressed, from
without.
But besides the records of the sights, words, and ideas revealed to her,
we have many things already known to her and understood, yet "brought to
her mind," as it were, preternaturally. Also, various paraphrases and
elaborate exegeses of the words spoken to her; a great abundance of
added commentary upon what she saw inwardly or outwardly. Now and then
it is a little difficult to decide whether she is speaking for herself,
or as the exponent of what she has received; but, on the whole, she
gives us abundant indications. Perhaps the following passage will
illustrate fairly the diverse elements of which the record is woven:
With good cheer our Lord looked into His side and beheld with joy
[_bodily vision_]: and with His sweet looking He led forth the
understanding of His creature, by the same wound, into His side within
[_her imagination is led by gesture from one thought to another_]. [9]
And then He showed a fair and delectable place, and large enough for all
mankind that should be saved, and rest in peace and love [_a conception
of the understanding conveyed through the symbol of the open wound in
the Heart_]. And therewith He brought to my mind His dear worthy Blood
and the precious water which He let pour out for love [_a thought
already contained in the mind, but brought to remembrance by Christ_].
And with His sweet rejoicing Pie showed His blessed Heart cloven in two
[_bodily or imaginative vision_], and with His rejoicing He showed to my
understanding, in part, the Blissful Godhead as far forth as He would at
that time strengthen the poor soul for to understand [_an enlightening
of the reason to the partial apprehension of a spiritual mystery_]. And
with this our Good Lord said full blissfully: "Lo! how I love thee!"
[_words formed in the imagination or for the outer hearing_], as if He
had said: "My darling, behold, and see thy Lord," &c. [_her own
paraphrase and interpretation of the said words_].
Rarely, however, are the different modes so entangled as here, and for
the most part we have little difficulty in discerning the precise origin
to which she wishes her utterances to be attributed--a fact that makes
her book an unusually interesting study in the theory of inspiration.
Thus, in provisionally answering the problem proposed at the beginning
of this article, as to how far Mother Juliana supplied from her own mind
the canvas and the colours for this portrayal of Divine love, and as to
how far therefore it may be regarded as a product of and a key to her
inner self, we are inclined to say that, a comparison of her own style
of thought and sentiment and expression as exhibited in her paraphrases
and expositions of the things revealed to her, with the substance and
setting of the said revelations, points to the conclusion that God spoke
to her soul in its own language and habitual forms of thought; and that
if the "content" of the revelation was partly new, yet it was harmonious
with the previous "content" of her mind, being, as it were, a congruous
development of the same--not violently thrust into the soul, but set
down softly in the appointed place already hollowed for it and, so to
say, clamouring for it as for its natural fulfilment. This, of course,
is not a point for detailed and rigorous proof, but represents an
impression that gathers strength the oftener we read and re-read Mother
Juliana's "showings."
_Jan. Mar._ 1900.
Footnotes:
[Footnote 1: Prefatory Essay to Walter Hilton's _Scale of Perfection._]
[Footnote 2: The Protestant editor of the Leicester edition (of 1845),
not understanding that an appreciation of difficulties, far from being
incompatible with faith, is a condition of the higher and more
intelligent faith, would fain credit Mother Juliana with a secret
disaffection towards the Church's authority. How far he is justif may be
gathered from such passages as these: "In this way was I taught by the
grace of God that I should steadfastly hold me fast in the faith, as I
had before understood." "It was not my meaning to take proof of anything
that belongeth to our faith, for I believed truly that Hell and
Purgatory is for the same end that Holy Church teacheth." "And I was
strengthened and learned generally to keep me in the faith in every
point ... that I might continue therein to my life's end." "God showed
full great pleasaunce that He hath in all men and women, that mightily
and wisely take the preaching and teaching of Holy Church; for it is His
Holy Church; He is the ground; He is the substance; He is the teaching;
He is the teacher," &c.]
[Footnote 3: _Ancren Riwle_.]
[Footnote 4: It is clear from many little touches and allusions that
throughout the "showings" Mother Juliana considers herself to be gazing,
not on a vision of Calvary, but on the illuminated crucifix hung before
her by her attendants, in which crucifix these appearances of bleeding,
suffering, movement, and speech take place. All else is shrouded in
darkness. Yet she never loses the consciousness that she is in her bed
and surrounded by others. Notice, for instance: "After this, I saw with
bodily sight in the face _of the crucifix that hung before me_," &c.
"The cross that stood before my face, methought it bled fast." "This
[bleeding] was so plenteous, to my sight, that methought if it had been
so in nature and substance" (i.e., in reality and not merely in
appearance), "it should have made the bed all a-blood, and have passed
over all about." "For this sight I laughed mightily, and made them to
laugh that were about me." Evidently she is quite awake, is well
conscious of her state and surroundings, and distinguishes appearance
from reality, shadow from substance. There is no dream-like illusion in
all this. Appearances presented to the outer senses are commonly spoken
of as "hallucinations;" but it seems to me that this word were better
reserved for those cases where appearance is mistaken for reality; and
where consequently there is illusion and deception. Mother Juliana is
aware that the crucifix is not really bleeding, as it seems to do, and
she explicitly distinguishes such a vision from her later illusory
dream-presentment of the Evil One. This dream while it lasted was, like
all dreams, confounded with reality; whereas the other phenomena, even
if made of "dream-stuff," were rated at their true value. Hence it seems
to me that if such things have any outward independent reality, to see
them is no more an hallucination than to see a rainbow. Even if they are
projected from the beholder's brain, there is no hallucination if they
are known for such; but only when they are confounded with reality, as
it were, in a waking-dream. As we are here using the word, an experience
is "real" which fits in with, and does not contradict the totality of
our experiences; which does not falsify our calculation or betray our
expectancy. If I look at a fly through a magnifying medium of whose
presence I am unconscious, its size is apparent, or illusory, and not
real; for being unaware of the unusual condition of my vision, I shall
be thrown out in my calculations, and the harmony of my experiences will
be upset by seeming contradictions. If, however, I am aware of the
medium and its nature, then I am not deceived, and what I see is
"reality," since it is as natural and real for the fly to look larger
through the optician's lense, as to look smaller through the optic
lense. I cannot call one aspect more "real" than the other, for both are
equally right and true under the given conditions. For these reasons I
should object to consider Mother Juliana's "bodily showings" as
hallucinations, so far as the term seems to imply illusion.]
[Footnote 5: For those therefore who make an act of faith in the
absolute universality and supremacy of the laws of physics and
chemistry, and find in them the last reason of all things, these
phenomena are interesting only as studies in the mechanics of illusion.]
[Footnote 6: It was largely by this method, supplemented no doubt by
that of reasoned discussion, that St. Ignatius guided himself in
determining points connected with the constitution of his Order,
according to the journal he has left us of his "experiences," which is
simply a record of "consolations" and "desolations."]
[Footnote 7: i.e., A kinæsthetic idea, as it is called, an idea of
something to be done in the given conditions.]
[Footnote 8: P. 272 in Richardson's Edit., from which I usually quote as
being the readiest available.]
[Footnote 9: On another occasion, by looking down to the right of His
Cross, He brought to her mind, "where our Lady stood in the time of His
Passion and said: 'Wilt Thou see her?'" leading her by gesture from the
seen to the not seen.]